3. CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
Lord Drak Ferrin
The scent of blood in the air always soothed me. My nanny used to put a pan of it over the fire in my nursery to help me sleep.
I didn’t want the man in front of me to bleed. I never liked hurting people.
But it was what needed to be done.
It was my job.
My cousin, King Howar Volmark, assigned me as head of his royal guard and made me his primary enforcer.
And interrogation was part of it.
I circled behind the man sitting bound to the chair in front of me. His head hung low, chin to chest, and blood seeped out of his nose and left ear. “At this point, unfortunately, it has come down to a swift and merciful death, or a long and painful one. You will die. But it is up to you how that happens. Tell us what we want to know, and I will put two fangs into your carotid and make sure you feel nothing but happy memories as you drift off to sleep. Ignore my request and we can keep you here for weeks.”
The man groaned.
“Have you ever been bitten by a vampire before?”
The man groaned again .
“Although we are not mind manipulators like demons, when we plunge our fangs into your skin, anywhere, not just the neck, we can unleash an indescribable amount of pain. Or an unearthly amount of pleasure. It is our choice. We can drain you immediately, killing you. Or we can take small sips, for a very long time. Making you weak. So weak you hallucinate and can barely lift your head. You sleep, but we have ways of preventing that too.”
I glanced toward the shadows of the mansion dungeon. Voltan, my second in command and also a vampire, smiled, but all I could see was the glowing white of his fangs.
“Why is there a faction of mages hunting vampires?” I demanded. “Our species have lived at peace with one another for over a century now.”
“I don’t know,” the man murmured.
I nodded at Voltan. He came out from the shadows and delivered another painful beating with the baton.
Our bound mage screamed and whimpered.
I nodded again at Voltan and he stepped back into the shadows.
“You’re nothing but glorified zombies,” my prisoner muffled before coughing up blood. “You’re not like us. Not like shifters or demons. You require others to suffer for your survival. And threatening to drain me of my blood is proof.” He lifted his head and glared at me. “You’re fucking monsters.” He spat a big glob of blood and spit at my feet, narrowly missing my loafers.
“Who is at the helm of this?”
He sneered at me. “I don’t know.”
“You’re just a lackey then? Doing the bidding of some unknown leader? While he sits in safety, you’re out doing his dirty work, chopping off vampire heads?”
“Not a lackey if I believe in the cause. I’m a soldier, fighting for what I think is right.” He coughed up more blood. “Just kill me. You know you want to.”
I didn’t, actually.
Death was necessary sometimes, but it was never something I enjoyed.
This man would have to die though. Because he couldn’t be trusted not to run back to his keeper if we let him go .
With a weary sigh, I circled back behind him, grabbed him by the hair hard enough to make him squawk as I tilted his face to the concrete ceiling, exposing his neck. His pulse thudded hard in his throat. I zeroed in on his throbbing carotid. “You do know that there are two species of vampires, right?”
His eyes went wide, and he whimpered again from how tightly I held his greasy brown hair.
“So your simple mind can understand, I will use the more . . . derogatory terms. There are Daywalkers, like Voltan and myself. The King is also one, as are his subjects. Then there are the Nightwalkers, or the Phaceanesh. They are the ones who need to feed to survive. The zombies , if you will. A sub-species of our more . . . sophisticated kind. I do not need to feed to survive. Do I like blood? Of course, but it is not what I require to survive. Perhaps you have been mistaken, hmm?”
His dark eyes darted wildly across my face. “I was told to take out the vile subjects of the King. The zombies. Those that feast on others to live.”
“By whom?” I brought my mouth down to his throat and allowed just one of my fangs to drop. It pricked his grimy skin, causing blood to bloom and trickle down the filthy creases of his neck and into the top of his stained, no-longer-white polo shirt.
He cried out in pain.
I dropped the other fang and leaned in to apply pressure to his neck once more, this time leaving a second puncture mark that slowly overflowed with his lifeblood. “I will repeat myself only once, by whom ?”
He trembled now, utterly afraid that I would be true to my word. This man didn’t want to die, despite his cavalier opinion of death a moment ago. His eyes held true fear and the most minute part of me held sympathy for him. He was told to kill the wrong species of vampire—on purpose—but why?
I leaned in, my eyes on his as I opened my mouth, preparing to give him exactly what I said I would: indescribable pain and a slow, excruciating death.
“N-no . . . no. Please! I’ll tell you what I know. I promise!” The scent of urine filled the air, and I glanced down at the front of his pants, which he’d noticeably soiled .
Voltan snorted from the shadows.
My grip on the prisoner’s hair loosened just a fraction. “Speak.”
“I . . . I don’t know who is in charge!” His eyes darted wildly across my face and his bottom lip wobbled. “But . . . t-the man who came to me was a demon.”
“A demon.”
“Y-yes.” He nodded emphatically, spit flying as he spoke. “He said his . . . his boss would make me high in his court if I helped them rid the Realm of . . . of your kind.”
“And did he say who his boss was?
“No.”
“And what was his name?”
“Um . . .”
I tightened my grip on his hair again and brought my mouth closer to his neck.
“His name was—”
Crack!
The dark dungeon filled with a blinding white light as lightning crashed down from the ceiling above and straight into my chest, throwing me backward. The prisoner screamed out in pain from where I’d yanked on his hair, but the screaming disappeared, replaced by the ringing in my ears.
I was slumped against the wall, having cracked my head hard on the brick behind me.
Voltan was already crouched in front of me. “Milord, what happened?”
Lilac, honeysuckle, and cayenne filled my nostrils. It was faint, but it was distinct.
Voltan’s eyes met mine, and a warmth filled my chest. Like a fool, I smiled.
He smiled too, when he realized what the lightning was about. “She’s come of age, Milord. Your mate, she’s come of age.”
He helped me to my feet. I brushed my tailored suit clean of any dust and nodded. “I must find the King.”
“I’ll finish up here with the prisoner.”
We both turned to face the bound man .
“Oh fuck,” Voltan murmured. “You ripped his head clean off.”
Unlike a shifter, a vampire’s sense of smell isn’t much better than a human’s—until it comes to his mate. He can smell his mate from across the country. And she was across the country.
Voltan sent me on my way to find the King, saying he’d clean up the bloody mess in the dungeon. I felt a little bad that I’d decapitated the man. I didn’t intend to.
I found my cousin speaking softly to his five-year-old daughter, Fiorella, in her bedroom. So, not wanting to interrupt father-daughter bonding, or rile up the young princess, I waited until he kissed her goodnight and left her door open just a crack.
“What news do you have from the mage?” King Howar asked me as we walked down the dimly lit hallway of his Upstate New York mansion. He could have lived in a castle in Europe, but he didn’t like how drafty they were. He preferred modern and cozy.
I told him what the mage told us. We entered his study, and he poured us each two ounces of scotch, which we took to the big, green velvet chairs in front of the roaring fire.
“And where is he now?”
I glanced down into my glass, swirling the amber liquid around. “He’s dead.”
“You killed him before he told you who he’s working for?”
I couldn’t look at my cousin.
“Drak?” Howar pulled out his best kingly voice.
“Lightning hit me when I had him by the hair. It threw me against the wall and I took his head off . . . by accident.” I glanced up at my cousin and frowned. “I’ve never had an accident like this before. ”
But Howar was already on his feet, yanking me to my feet as well so he could wrap me up in an enormous hug. I stood stiffly, arms at my side, in his jovial embrace. I wasn’t used to affection from anyone, not even family. Howar had softened since finding a mate and having a daughter though. He’d turned into a hugger since Fiorella was born. “At long last, you finally have a mate! Dear god, we were starting to wonder if she’d ever come of age. If you’d ever get struck. Where is she? What is her scent?”
He released me and I cleared my throat, dropping back into my seat and taking a sip of the scotch. “I don’t know where she is, but it’s far. Her scent is not strong.”
“What is it though?”
“Lilac, honeysuckle, and cayenne.”
He smiled, went over to a small box on his desk, and pulled out two cigars. He cut them and put one in his mouth, bringing the other over to me. As happy as I should be right now, I didn’t feel quite right celebrating. I’d just killed an informant. Our species was being targeted, and now I had a mate—a vampire—which meant she would have a target on her back too.
Howar lit his cigar, then passed the metal box of matches to me. I waved him off. “Not right now.”
Shrugging, he puffed away, all smiles. “Why are you not happier? You’re over five hundred years old. It’s about time you settled down and started a family. Aren’t you dying to know what she’s like?”
I was. A hollow ache sat in my chest the longer I was apart from her. I needed to get on a plane ASAP and find her for the pain to stop.
“I’m worried,” I finally said. “Someone is after us. After our species. And they’re rallying troops of rogue mages to kill us. Why?”
“Not just someone though. A demon.” He sipped his scotch. “I’ll reach out to King Donovar in the morning and see what he knows. I doubt it’s him. He’s held peace in this realm longer than any other ruler.”
“But the informant said that if he helped him, he’d give him a place in his court.”
Howar’s mouth turned down. “Are you telling me you think Donovar is behind this?”
I shook my head. “He’s always rallied for peace. I can’t see it being him. Lerris, maybe?”
Howar tilted his head to the side. “I’ve always been suspicious of the King’s brother.”
“You’re not alone there.”
The ache in my sternum intensified until it felt like someone was driving a stake through my heart. I clutched at my chest, wincing.
“That is the Mate’s Ache,” Howar said, once again on his feet. “Take the jet. Go to her. It will only get worse the longer you are apart. It will weaken you. Being around her is what you need. You gain strength from your bond.”
Nodding, I grunted from the now-dull throb of pain between my ribs. Howar was already on his phone, making a call to fire up the jet. “Do you have any idea where she is?”
“West,” I said weakly. “Somewhere west.”
“Well, sit with the pilots and tell them when she feels close. They’ll get you to her.” He wrapped an arm around me and helped me outside, where his driver, Alvo, waited with the limo. “Drak has been struck with lightning,” he told Alvo. Alvo’s pale face lit up. Everyone in the Realm knew what that meant. “Take him to the airstrip. The jet is being fueled. He needs to get to his mate ASAP.”
Alvo nodded. “Right away, Your Majesty.”
I slid into the back of the limo, but rolled over onto my side, clutching at my chest. Nobody ever told me about the Mate’s Ache. I felt like I was having a heart attack. I closed my eyes, envisioning what she might look like. Was her lightning strike as intense? Did she feel the Mate’s Ache too?
It was tradition that the female mate waited, and the male came to her. Otherwise, if they both set off in search of each other, it could be a disaster.
Pain scrunched my face. But it wasn’t just the pain in my chest, it was the pain of wondering if she was going through the ache too. If she was in as much agony as I was.
I’m coming, my mate. I’m coming.
I arrived in Chase City in the morning, but I was weak.
The pilot had to help me climb down the stairs of the plane to the limo Howar arranged for me.
I was barely able to tell the limo driver where to go, but I rallied, holding onto my mate’s scent and giving him directions as best I could.
It was still early—most shops weren’t even open yet— when we pulled up in front of a hospital.
This couldn’t be right. Why was my mate at a human hospital?
If she was injured during the lightning strike, wouldn’t she go to a realm hospital? Our physicians were far better and knew how to treat the maladies of all species.
But this was where her scent was strongest. She was here.
Panic ran rampant through me as the limo driver helped me out. Hospital staff saw how frail I was and someone ran out with a wheelchair. “Sir. Sir, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I grunted, batting them off. “I need to find her.”
“Who?”
These were humans. If I said, “my mate,” they’d call for a psych consult.
But I didn’t know my mate’s name.
“I’ll know her when I see her.” I also couldn’t tell them that I’d know her when I smelled her.
“Sir, let us check you out. You’re very pale and seem dehydrated.” A firm hand landed on my shoulder, pushing me into the wheelchair,
I’m pale and dehydrated because I’m a vampire.
But I was too weak to argue. The hollow ache in my chest made it difficult to speak, let alone fight. They wheeled me into the hospital, and as soon as I was in the same space as my mate, I grew stronger. She was here. There was no doubt about it now.
They wheeled me to the E.R. and helped me climb up onto a bed, pulling the curtains around me. “A doctor will be by to see you shortly,” said the green-scrub clad orderly.
My nostrils flared, but I waited for him to pull the curtains and leave before I slid off the bed, allowing my nose to do the work for me.
She was here. Somewhere in this hospital.
Was her strength returning too? Did she know I was close?
I poked my head into various rooms, sniffing.
“You are a lucky woman, Ms. Playfair. A lightning strike like that and zero burns, no burst eardrums, respiratory complications.” Disbelief colored his tone. “Frankly, it’s a miracle. You’re very fortunate.” I paused at the corner beside a nurse’s station in the E.R. My mate was behind curtains, just like I’d been. I still couldn’t understand why she was in a human hospital. But at least she was okay. That was what mattered.
“Can I go home then, please? This has been the weirdest day. I just want pizza and my own bed.” My mate’s voice was beautiful. Strong and assertive.
“I’d like to wait for the psych consult. You hearing voices does raise some concerns.”
My mate growled. I smirked. “I’m fine. I was probably just still unconscious. I did pass out, you know.”
A man with a clipboard, glasses, and big ears approached her curtains, ducking in behind them. “Hello, I’m Dr. Shapiro. I believe a psych consult was requested.”
“I’m not a danger to myself or others. Can you legally hold me?” my mate asked, her ire increasing.
“W-well . . . no,” Dr. Big Ears stammered. “I just want to ask you a few questions though.”
“Well, I don’t want to answer them. Discharge me or I’ll do it myself. I’m not crazy. You’re treating me like I’m crazy. I was struck by motherfucking lightning. ”
“Ms. Playfair—” started Dr. Big Ears.
“She’s not crazy,” another female voice said. “Shocked and scared, maybe. But not crazy. I don’t think you need to do a psych consult.”
“Exactly,” my mate said. “So either discharge me, or I’ll get up off this bed and do it myself. But I’m not answering any of your stupid-ass psych eval questions. You can shove those up your ass for all I care.”
The curtain flew open and the ER doctor, as well as Dr. Big Ears, left with disgruntled looks on their faces.
I zeroed in on the woman sitting up in the bed, animatedly chatting with another woman with a head of wild red curls. But my mate was the one I focused on.
She was stunning.
A head of wild curls herself—only dark brown with streaks of blonde—a hoop piercing in her nose, high cheekbones, and alert moss-green eyes. But it was her smile that had my chest heating up, and that hollow feeling disappearing even more.
Her gaze flicked across to me and she narrowed her eyes.
Did she feel the pull too? Could she smell me?
I took a step forward, drawn by our intense connection. This wasn’t where or how I wanted to meet her, but the Fates had plans all on their own. They made me wait over five hundred years for a mate, and now they had me meeting her for the first time in an overcrowded human hospital. It all had to mean something divine.
“There you are, sir. We need to get you back to the exam bed.” An arm looped through mine. “I have an IV for you and we’d like to do a blood draw.”
I jerked my arm away and growled at the same orderly as before. “Don’t touch me.”
Several people in the busy ER turned to watch us, including my mate. But she was distracted quickly by her doctor returning, probably with the discharge papers.
“Sir, if you’ll just come with me.” Now it was a security guard. He was big, and his voice was far deeper than the wimpy orderly .
“I’m fine,” I growled again. “I need to see her.” I pointed at my mate, but she was already gone from the bed.
Fresh panic swamped me as I scanned the crowded space in search of her or her friend. But they were nowhere to be seen. Her scent was already growing fainter again. The hollow ache was back.
The security guard easily overpowered me now and led me back to the exam bed where they hooked me up to an IV. “No blood draw,” I said.
“Sir, we need to determine if you’re anemic,” said a phlebotomist, there with a kit to perform bloodwork.
I shook my head. “No. Blood. Draw.”
If they took my blood, they’d be shocked to find out I didn’t have any of the human blood types. My blood was cold, and didn’t have any of the similar human properties. What happened after that, I didn’t even want to find out.
What I needed to understand was why my mate left. Didn’t she know it was me? Didn’t she feel the pull? None of this made any sense.
I needed to get out of there. I needed to follow her. I needed to find her.
But she had already gone too far, and just like I had in the limo and on the plane, I blacked out from the agony. My last thought was an image of her and wondering why she left me here alone, without her.
“He needs blood,” came a stern, authoritative voice somewhere off in the distance. “Any will do.”
“We can’t just give him any blood if we don’t know his type,” said another voice.
“Not to transfuse. He needs to drink it.”
Oh no.
I blinked open my eyes to find a familiar face, Raver. “Hey there,” he said, all grins. “Heard you finally got struck by lightning.”
I groaned. “Where am I?”
“Still in the same stupid human hospital. But they found your wallet, called Howar, who called me. I’m just over in Seattle, so I drove down to check on you. Where’s your mate?” He glanced around as if she were just hiding under the bed or something .
“She left.”
His dark blue eyes went wide. “She left? Without you.”
I groaned again. “We didn’t have a chance to meet.”
“Ah, and you’re experiencing the Mate’s Ache. My brother went through something similar when he was struck by lightning. I hear it’s just a curse us vampires bear. No other species has to deal with this.”
“I need to find her.” I made to sit up.
Raver rested a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. “I’ve ordered some blood. It should help you get enough strength that we can find her together.”
The curtain pulled back and several doctors stood at the foot of my bed. A few of them looked terrified, others looked disgusted. The one with the most authority spoke up. “I’m afraid we don’t give blood to patients to drink ,” she said, trying for calm, but coming across as patronizing. “We’d like to do a blood panel and tox screen to determine how best we can help Mr. Ferrin.”
“Lord,” Raver said.
“Excuse me?”
“Lord Ferrin. He is nobility.”
“My apologies. How best we can help Lord Ferrin.”
I shook my head. “No blood work.”
“We’ve hooked him up to an IV because he seemed really dehydrated when he came in, but unless we know what substances he’s taken or how severe his anemia is, we can’t accurately treat him,” the head doctor said, addressing Raver.
“He’s not anemic,” Raver said. “And he’s not on drugs.”
A few of the baby doctors snorted.
Whatever.
“Get his discharge papers, please. I’ll take him to see our private family physician where he will be treated for his underlying condition,” Raver said, scratching at his perfectly trimmed, dark blond beard.
“Uh—”
“I said please ,” Raver barked, which caused all of them to snap into action.
I snorted .
He grinned at me, flashing his fangs and letting them drop just a smidge. “I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna go see if I can find you a snack.” He took off down the hallway, leaving me in the bed behind all the closed curtains. Even though my species of vampires didn’t require blood to survive, when we were in pain or injured, there was no better medicine. A few ounces would help me enough to get to my mate without passing out, and Raver knew that.
A moment later, before any doctors returned with my discharge papers, Raver was back. He was all mischievous smiles as he pulled a bag of blood slightly out from under his jacket to show me. “You can have it in the car.”
“Theft is a sin,” I said blandly.
“I hear the demons throw killer parties in hell, anyway.”
The curtain was pulled back to reveal the head doctor again. “All right, Lord Ferrin, this is to indicate that you are leaving of your own accord, against medical advice. Please sign here.” I signed, glared at all the hospital staff and allowed Raver to help me walk out to the front exit. He wanted to wheel me in a wheelchair, but I adamantly refused.
I did let him run to the parking lot and bring his car around so I didn’t have to walk any further than I had to though.
Once we were on the road, he pulled out the blood bag and handed it to me, along with a paper straw. “I even snagged you a straw from the cafeteria.”
“My hero,” I said dryly, opening the bag, poking in the straw, and taking a long sip.
Instantly, I felt stronger. The ache in my chest was still there, but my head was clearer and so were my senses. I could smell her again and I gave Raver directions, forcing him to weave through traffic like a racecar driver.
“So what does she look like?” he asked me, his eyes focused forward on the dark, wet road. It was nighttime again. How long was I at the hospital?
A small, faint smile pulled at one corner of my mouth. “Perfect,” I said softly.
He smirked. “Is it true you can’t get hard for anybody but your mate once she’s come of age?”
“From everything I’ve heard, yes. Across all species, I believe. Donovar said that was the case when he met and mated with Callie. ”
Raver shook his head. “No fucking thanks. I hope it’s another couple hundred years before my mate comes of age.”
“Left,” I grunted.
He took a left. “Is it the same for the females? Do their legs just like not open for anyone but their mate?”
I shook my head and sipped my blood bag. “No idea. Another left.”
My mate’s scent was strong and heady now. We were close. I sat up in my seat, finishing the bag of blood and tossing it onto the floor of Raver’s rental car.
We were in an industrial area now, but it was also where I would say those classified as “hipsters” lived. A lot of the warehouses had been renovated and gentrified into quirky apartments. “Here!” I said, pointing to one of the apartments.
Raver threw on the brakes hard enough that I was thrown forward in my seat against the belt. A car behind us honked.
“A little more warning next time,” Raver grumbled, pulling over to the curb.
I closed my eyes and pulled in that floral, spicy scent. She was here. My mate.
“You want me to come in?” Raver asked.
I shook my head. “No. I will be fine.”
Raver merely nodded at me. We were childhood friends, growing up in the Middle Ages after the collapse of the Roman Empire. He knew me better than anybody and knew that I would want to do this on my own. I could see the glimmer of concern in his eyes though. We’d been through countless wars together, battered, bloodied, bruised, and nearly beheaded. But he’d never seen me with the Mate’s Ache.
“I’m gonna grab a hotel and stick around for the night in case you need anything. Just send out the bat signal.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes, opening up the car door.
“Go get ‘er, tiger.”
Shaking my head, I shut the door, adjusted the coat of my black suit and double-checked that my loafers were scuff-free.
I knew her last name. Playfair. I scanned the resident list on the buzzer at the front of the building near the door. There wasn’t a Playfair listed .
She was with a friend at the hospital, but I was too focused on my mate. I never bothered to listen for another name.
I glanced out at the road where Raver sat in his car watching me. Shaking his head, he got out. “Did you forget your lock picking kit back at the mansion?” His tone was ninety-nine percent sarcasm and one-percent humor.
“I did, in fact.”
Pulling out a lock pick kit I recognized from many of our off-the-record jobs, he made quick work of the front door lock. “Easy peasy, bro.” His grin was all cheese.
“Go sleep, Raver.”
“Go get your mate.”
I was going to do just that.
I stepped into the lobby as Raver headed back to his car.
Lilacs, honeysuckle, and cayenne.
Taking the stairs, I poked my head on every floor, giving a big sniff down every hallway. It wasn’t until I reached the top floor that my heart pounded hard against my ribcage.
She was here.
Unit 405.
I buttoned my suit jacket, hoped that my hair was straight, and gently knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” came a curious female voice.
“It is I, Lord Drak Ferrin, your mate,” I declared, something akin to butterflies taking flight in my belly.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” muttered another female voice.
Footsteps that absolutely could not belong to a woman thundered on the other side of the door. Then the door was yanked open by a man nearly seven feet tall, and almost three hundred pounds, who glared at me with brown eyes.
A bear shifter.
And not just any bear shifter. The Prince.
“What the fuck are you going on about?” he growled.
“Zandren,” I said cooly, giving His Majesty a slight bow .
He lifted a light brown brow. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Lord Drak Ferrin, cousin of King Howar Volmark.”
Zandren’s eyes formed thin slits. “What the fuck are you saying? You’re her mate ?”
“My mate is in there. I can smell her. Lightning struck me late last night, and I have spent every moment since then making my way to her.”
“The fuck it did,” he barked. “ I’m her mate. Lightning struck me, and I smelled her from over a hundred miles away. Could smell your minty ass before you even entered the building. I told them there was a filthy vampire nearby and they should shut their windows.”
The two women from the hospital—one of whom was my mate—crept up behind Zandren. Those curious butterflies in my abdomen were back. I was almost at full strength again.
“What are you talking about?” my mate asked, then her eyes went wide. “I recognize you from the hospital earlier today.”
I nodded. “I followed your scent there. But they mistook me for someone ill and tried to admit me. I hope you are all right?”
She glanced at her red-haired friend, then up at Zandren. “Been a weird twenty-four hours. So you’re like . . . a vampire?” Her hand went to her throat.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I am, yes. But you need not fear me. I just ate.”
Her friend’s eyes nearly popped from her skull. “How long until you’re hungry again?”
“I should be fine for a while.” I glanced down the hallway in each direction. “Might I come in so we can sort things out, please?”
“Fuck that. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but she’s my mate,” Zandren said, barring the door with his thick, corded arm. “Get lost, vampire. Go run away to your dark, dank castle.” He growled like a grizzly, but it came across amusing considering his choice of attire. He was dressed ridiculously. His clothes, gray sweatpants and a red T-shirt, were far too tight and too small for him. Certainly not befitting for royalty. Then again, shifters weren’t known for their fashion sense or decorum .
My mate rested her small hand on his. “I feel like we need to hear him out.” She glanced up at him. “Much like I did with you. Hmm?”
Zandren growled again, but dropped his hand and stomped back into the apartment. “Fucking hate vampires,” he muttered. “Can’t be trusted. Not one of them.”
I sighed. It was known throughout the Realm that vampires and shifters had a very tedious relationship. We were civil with each other, but neither liked the other. Their disdain for us ran deeper than ours for them though, and it dated back to a very bloody war some hundred and twenty years ago.
“You stand over with Zandren,” my mate said as I stepped into the apartment, the smell of Thai food wafting up my nostrils. “I don’t know what kind of game this is, but we have mace and a taser, and Gemma’s ready to call 911. She also knows Krav Maga.”
“I’ve got the nine already punched in,” Gemma said. “And don’t think I won’t throat punch you.”
I joined Zandren on the far side of the room, near the sliding glass door to the patio. He stepped to the side, putting more space between us, while also shooting me a look that said he’d rather be gnawing on my dead corpse right now.
Ignoring the bear, I focused on my mate. “Might I know your name, please?” I asked, my body rebelling against any real distance between us now that we were finally together.
“Omaera Playfair,” she said. “Who are you?”
“Lord Drak Ferrin.” I bowed. “I do not know of the Playfair family. May I inquire about your parents, please?”
“I never met them,” she replied with a shrug. “My mother died shortly after I was born and nobody told me who my father was. But let’s figure out why you both think you’re my mate.” She dug her fingers into her hair and pinched her eyes closed tight for a moment. “I mean, I’m still freaking the fuck out about all of this. Vampires and shifters? What next? A witch? A werewolf? A freaking mermaid?”
“Werewolves and mermaids do not exist,” I said simply. “And we call witches ‘mages’ in our realm.”
Her eyes flashed open. “You’re not helping.”
“My apologies.”
Exhaling, she began to pace. “This . . . this doesn’t make sense.” Her gaze landed on Zandren and I. “And yet, deep down, it feels like it does.”
My heart fluttered.
“I feel this weird, fucked up, unexplainable pull to both of you.” She glanced at her friend. “Maybe I should have had that psych consult.”
Gemma merely lifted a coppery brow. “This is super fucked up, but . . . you’ve always been . . .”
Omaera stopped in her tracks, rounding on her friend, hands on her hips. “Been what?”
“Special,” Gemma said softly, her gaze full of love. “Like crazy empathetic. Like you don’t only put yourself in other people’s shoes, but you actually viscerally feel what they’re feeling.” Her smile was small, but encouraging. “It’s one of the things I love most about you. You have this hard shell, but deep down, you’re gooier than a perfectly golden marshmallow for a s’more.”
“I love s’mores,” Zandren murmured.
I rolled my eyes.
Omaera’s focus returned to us. “I saw you watching me at the hospital and I did feel this strange pull. Like I was supposed to go and talk to you. But I also wanted to get the hell out of there. They thought I was crazy because I was hearing voices.”
Voices? What kind of voices? Vampires didn’t hear voices.
“I’m still seriously weirded out by all of this,” she went on. “But my aunt taught me to always trust my gut, and right now, my gut is telling me you’re not here to kill us. And that you’re telling the truth and that I’m supposed to . . . I don’t know . . . trust you?”
Zandren nodded, as did I.
“I’d never hurt you,” he said.
“Nor would I,” I echoed.
Zandren growled beside me. I pulled in a deep breath.
There was a knock at the door. “’Ello, ‘ello! It’s your Fated Mate, my lovely. Here to claim you and burn up the sheets.”
My fangs dropped.
Zandren fell to all fours, and thick, light brown fur rippled in and out of his arms and legs as he sniffed the air. “Fire mage,” he growled.
I glanced at Omaera. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates and her mouth hung open.
“Another one?” Gemma said. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”