16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Drak
I knew she wasn’t in the house when the Mate’s Ache woke me up. My heart felt like it was being ripped in two. Similar to how it felt when she went off to the woods with the bear earlier that day. She just kept leaving me.
So I followed her, knowing exactly what her reaction would be when she discovered me. And she didn’t disappoint.
I intended to just stay upstairs in the lounge, expecting the Mate’s Ache to be bearable with her downstairs. But the mage’s capsule was wearing off and my need to be near her grew more intense than I could stand.
I was careful when I entered the speakeasy and skirted behind people so she wouldn’t notice me. She’d never forgive me if my presence affected her game.
I noticed the wolf shifter across from her almost immediately.
He was giving off vibes I didn’t like, but I didn’t want to say anything and give my presence away. We were also surrounded by humans, and the last thing we needed was the mere mortals finding out a wolf shifter, demon, and vampire were in their midst.
So I stayed quiet and stood behind Omaera toward the back, keeping an eye on her and the shifter.
Pride roared through me when she won. But, of course she would. She was spectacular in every way. Tough as nails and incredibly clever. I was also impressed by how she treated the staff working the speakeasy. She knew everyone by name, was polite, and tipped very well. Unlike the majority of the other players and patrons who treated the staff like the help and barked orders at them. A lot didn’t use their manners or tip either.
I planned to stay quiet for as long as I could.
I could feel the effects of the capsule wearing off and my need to devour and consume Omaera was making my decision to remain unnoticed more and more difficult. It wasn’t until the wolf shifter threatened her that I knew I needed to step in.
Her reaction to me being there was less than welcomed. And I expected that.
But it allowed me to be closer to her. It allowed me to smell her. Feeding the hungry growl of my more primitive side.
I wasn’t happy she left the safety of the apartment, but the little demon was quickly demonstrating her fierce independence and resistance to mating any of us. I wished she could see how mating us would help her with her powers and help the Realm. It was the smart and logical thing to do.
But I’d never force her.
None of us would.
The Mating Bond also wouldn’t take if done without consent. Not that I would ever force myself on anyone, let alone my Fated Mate.
Which was why I felt nothing but shame as we walked toward the bus stop.
I was unable to hold back my urges, and I took her in that closet. I took the Queen of the Realm in a bloody broom closet, for god’s sake. I was a stronger man than that. I should have pushed through the desire. I should have risked the Mate’s Ache and left before she noticed me.
Maxar had the pills because he said he didn’t trust me to not toss them. But I should have demanded that he put at least one in my pocket in the event we were separated and I was alone with Omaera.
I knew she consented, but I still felt awful.
She hated me.
She said as much more than once.
I wasn’t an easy man to love; I knew that. But the pain of my mate hating me was a fresh and debilitating kind of agony I wasn’t prepared for. Nobody talked about a mate resisting the Bond or the kind of hell it would create. So either this was a new phenomenon, and I was the first vampire whose mate rejected him, or it was so painful nobody spoke of it because they had repressed those haunting memories.
I remained quiet as we waited at the bus stop, caught up in a deep bout of reflection and self-flagellation. How could I do that?
How could I take her like that?
I wanted the first time I was with my mate to be special for her. To be special for both of us. To be something she consented to—and not because she was under my fucked up vampirical hypnosis because of my own feral blood lust. I wanted her to consent because she wanted me. Because she wanted me forever as much as I wanted her forever.
If I could stay away from her, I would.
If I could let her be, I would.
But I couldn’t.
The Mate’s Ache was too painful. And the longer we went without mating, the harder it would be to be away from her at all. I was grateful for the capsule compounded by the mage. At least I could be civilized while she bled.
I regretted taking her in that closet the way I did. And yet, my body continued to thrum with post-coital bliss. The taste of her lingered on my tongue and lips. I’d never tasted anything—anybody—so sweet. Her blood was like the most decadent nectar, and I couldn’t get enough. I could have easily drunk her dry if I didn’t stop myself. And it wasn’t because I wanted to kill her, it was because she tasted that good. It was because being with my mate, drinking my mate, was as whole as I’d ever felt in my nearly five and a half centuries. I could only imagine that mating with her would feel that much more extraordinary.
But I had to wait.
Until she consented to the Bond. Until she chose me.
The bus ride back to her apartment was quiet.
None of us really said anything .
I’m sure Zandren and Maxar knew exactly what happened between us. The way their noses sniffed and wrinkled as soon as we ran into them said they had an idea of what transpired between Omaera and I. I didn’t care.
I was just as much her mate as they were.
Maybe there was some jealousy there because I got to be with her first. But there was no bond forged in our union. In my fugue state, I mentally pushed for it—slightly—but I could feel her resisting. The Fates would not allow a non-consensual Mate Bond. As disastrous as the whole Fated Mates thing could be, at least the Fates had done one thing right.
I avoided Zandren’s gaze, but I could feel the heat and hate of it burning on my face.
Omaera sat between him and Maxar at the back of the bus. I sat to their left.
Besides a couple of men at the front of the bus heading out on some kind of a night shift in trade uniforms, we were the only passengers. They unloaded before we did, and then it was just us four until we reached our stop a block from Omaera’s home.
“Thank you,” Omaera called out, the first to get off the bus from the door in the middle of the vehicle. “Have a great night.” She waved at the driver, who waved back to her.
I said nothing. Neither did Zandren, nor Maxar.
“Would it kill any of you to be pleasant to other people? To humans?” she asked in frustration. “You know that bus drivers are people too?” She glanced specifically at me. “Or do you just see them as lowly peasants here to serve us?”
I blinked at her. “I . . . no. I don’t see them that way.”
I caught Maxar’s and Zandren’s eyes, and they both looked thoroughly chastised.
“If this whole fucked up, quadruple thing is going to work, you three need to trust me more. Give me space and respect my boundaries. And for Christ’s sake, be humble, gracious, and polite.” Her gaze pivoted back to me. “And I don’t mean pompous WASP polite, where all your manners are actually backassward insults. I mean ‘please and thank you’ said with sincerity.”
I swallowed and nodded .
Zandren stared at his feet and murmured, “Okay.”
“Yes, my Queen,” Maxar whispered.
We followed her to the apartment building, but even I smelled it and I wasn’t a fucking shifter.
Zandren stopped in his tracks and dropped to all fours, snarling.
Thank god it was nearly four in the morning and nobody was around to witness such idiocy, but nevertheless, the potent scent of demons in the air had the hair at the nape of my neck standing straight up.
“They were here,” Zandren growled, clambering still on all fours and in human form toward the front door. He used the code Omaera gave us to get into the door, then bounded into the lobby.
We hustled after him, taking the stairs because, for some reason they just felt safer than the elevator. I could already tell by the scratches on the carpet on the landing of each floor that Zandren had shifted. And if the scratches didn’t give that away, the pile of clothes and shoes on the second floor was proof. I gathered them up and followed Omaera and Maxar.
We reached the fourth floor and the scent of demon was stronger than ever. Normally, I couldn’t smell another species, or even other vampires, but this was intensely strong. Like damp fire logs and . . . death. That was the only way I could describe it, and even that didn’t sound right.
Panic rolled off Omaera in tenuous waves as we reached the fourth floor and she burst out into the hallway.
The door to unit 405 was already open.
Zandren, still in bear form, stood in the living room, his eyes sad as they zeroed in on Omaera.
Her gaze swiveled to Gemma’s bedroom door, which was wide open. She ran into her friend’s room, screaming her name. She flicked on the bedroom light, ruffled up the linens on Gemma’s bed, then went into the bathroom they shared, through it, and into her own room.
We all knew the truth though.
Gemma wasn’t here.
They took her .
With tears streaming down her cheeks, green eyes wide in horror, Omaera returned to us in the living room. “Why?” she asked, shaking her head. “Why’d they take her?”
I shook my head.
“D-Do you think they’re going to k-kill her like they did Delia?”
I had to keep myself from going to her. From comforting her. I’d already messed up once, going against my own moral code and touching her when I swore I wouldn’t. Now, I had penance to deal with, and no matter how much it hurt, I was going to give her the space she needed.
That didn’t stop it from gutting me to the spine when she fell to the ground and wrapped her arms around Zandren’s big fury neck.
He moaned like bears do and nuzzled her.
I’d never been so jealous in all my life. And I’d just had sex with her.
But she hated me.
What we did in that cleaning closet was nothing short of animalistic. Savage. I was in a fugue state of lust and she was under some kind of spell I had inadvertently cast on her. If she was of total sound mind, she never would have agreed.
“We have to find her,” Omaera said, her words muffled as she pressed her face into Zandren’s neck. “What if they hurt her? What if they kill her? She’s human. She won’t be able to withstand half the torture they delivered to Delia.”
“What do you think they want with Gemma?” Maxar asked.
I shook my head and pulled out my phone, dialing the King. “Zandren, you should call your father. Maxar, call Queen Anysa.”
“Yeah, because I have her on speed dial and she picks up,” Maxar said sarcastically. “I’m not like you two aristocrats. I’m just a fire mage. No royal blood line bubbling in these veins.”
I rolled my eyes just as Howar picked up. “New demon advisor should arrive tomorrow. How is our new queen?”
I took the call out on the balcony. “Not good. Her roommate and best friend was just kidnapped. By demons.”
“The same that killed her aunt. ”
“We believe so.”
“And this roommate was human?”
“ Is human,” I corrected. Why did he already refer to Gemma as deceased? How odd. “She’s Omaera’s best friend. We can’t just let them have her. They’re after Omaera, so they’re either using Gemma as bait or—”
“They took her by mistake.”
“Gemma was in the picture with Omaera. The one the demons took from Delia’s house. So they must have tracked Omaera down here, not realizing that the women are roommates and they just assumed Gemma was Omaera.”
Howar hummed a response.
“We don’t even know where to begin.”
“I’ll let Anysa know. She may know of a hunter mage in the area.”
“I’ll ask Maxar too. We’ve also met with a spellcaster mage who runs an apothecary, and he seems to have a bead on many of the goings on in the area.”
“How are you holding up?” Howar asked. “Callie tells me your mate is bleeding.”
“Yes. It’s not been easy. We had the spellcaster mage mix up a compound to help with the fugue. But it wears off quickly, so I need to continuously take the capsule every four to six hours, otherwise I become—”
“Irrationally aroused and unbelievably strong.”
“To put it delicately.”
Howar chuckled. “You just need to mate. Then it will get easier. The Mate’s Ache will go, and she’ll be more apt and willing to join you in the lust.”
I suppressed a groan of regret. “Zandren is calling King Ryden. But please let me know what Anysa says. I have to go.”
Howar and I said our goodbyes, then I returned to the apartment. Zandren had shifted back to human form and was indeed on the phone, as was Maxar.
Omaera was on the couch, tucked tight in the corner, hugging her knees and staring blankly ahead, as though in a trance.
All I wanted to do was comfort her.
But I wouldn’t touch her again. Not until she asked me to. Not until it was clear that she wanted me to .
Maxar was the first off the phone. “That was Fiddleman. He knows of a hunter mage only half an hour from here. He’s going to call him and have him come immediately.”
I nodded.
Zandren got off the phone he borrowed from Omaera a moment later. “My father said the entire shifter community is at our disposal. He’s dispatching a wolf shifter named Bauer to come help us track.”
More nodding from everyone but Omaera. She still stared straight ahead. I wasn’t even sure if she was blinking.
Zandren—totally naked—wandered into the kitchen. He put on the kettle, grabbed a mug from the cupboard and, after a little searching, found where the tea was stored. The electric kettle roared as the water heated up.
I stood there like an imp, useless and unable to help in any way.
Zandren—still without clothes—poured the steaming water from the kettle into the mug over the tea bag, then brought the mug to Omaera. “Here.”
Jealousy ripped through me as their hands touched when she accepted the mug, her gaze flicking up to his face for just a moment. But the tenderness with which they regarded each other was like a stake through my heart.
“Your clothes are on the counter there,” I said, regretting the bitterness in my tone the moment the words came out.
The bear grunted and glanced at the pile of fabric.
What was there to do but wait for reinforcements? Zandren could probably sniff things out to a degree, but he wasn’t a hunter mage, and based on how close he sat with Omaera, my guess was he wouldn’t leave her side for anything.
One of the few things I agreed with him on.
After about forty minutes, there was a buzz on Omaera’s phone. Zandren answered it.
“Bauer Brennan. And Arik Saije,” came two very distinct deep voices.
The bear buzzed them up, and we waited.
I’d never met either of these men, but they came recommended. So we had to trust them enough to let them in on some of our secrets.
Less than two minutes later, there was a hard knock at the door .
I needed to make myself useful, so I went and let them in.
Immediately, the shifter looked me up and down, and his top lip curled into a sneer. “What the fuck is a vampire doing here?”
I exhaled in defeat. “My apologies. I know how hated we are.”
“We’re all her Fated Mates,” Maxar said.
Bauer’s turquoise-blue eyes widened. “Seriously? Has that ever happened before?”
“Not recorded,” I said blandly.
He growled slightly because I spoke again, and stalked into the living room.
The hunter mage—Arik—had alert, brown eyes that scanned the room with quiet assessment. His nose wrinkled a few times. “There were two demons here. Two demons and a human.”
Maxar, Zandren, and I nodded. “Yes. We believe the demons are the same two who killed Delia Refera, a spellcaster mage.” I’d already grabbed a recent photo of Gemma off the fridge, as well as some of her clothes from her bedroom, and brought them to Arik and Bauer. “Her picture and clothing so you can pick up her scent.”
Bauer did no more than grunt. Arik quietly thanked me and accepted the items.
Both men were tall. Nobody was as tall as Zandren, but we all towered over Omaera.
Arik—the hunter mage—was olive skinned with sun-streaked brown hair, pronounced cheekbones and a dimple in his chin. I’d met hunter mages before. In fact, the mage I accidentally beheaded the night the lightning struck was a young, low-power hunter mage. There were all different kinds of mages out there, variations even I’d never encountered.
Did Maxar ever get that list of mages to Omaera like she asked? If so, I would like to take a peek at it sometime. Generally, Realm species kept to themselves for the most part, but one thing I did know about mages was that unlike demons, shifters and vampires who came into full power by the time they reached about twenty-five, mages took longer to gain their full power. The older the mage, the more powerful. So those who were only twenty-five or thirty had weak powers compared to those like Maxar, Monjol Fiddleman and Delia who were centuries old. How old was this hunter mage who came to help? Would he be of any real use? Or was he just the only one available and within driving distance?
“What do we know so far?” Bauer asked, his accent indicative of an East Coast life, probably a long time spent in the Boston area.
“Gemma is human. Twenty-three-years-old—”
“Twenty-two,” Omaera corrected, her voice raspy and broken. “Her birthday is in three weeks.”
I glanced at her and nodded. “My apologies. Twenty-two. Red hair, fair complexion—”
“Yes, we see all of that in the photo,” Bauer snapped. “But why would the demons take her?”
I stowed my initial defensive reaction to his tone. Replying with my own, more educated rhetoric of retaliation would serve nobody. Least of all, Omaera. “My apologies.” I gave a slight head bow. “She and Omaera are roommates. We believe they took her for one of two reasons. Either as leverage or bait to draw Omaera out, or simply in error. They thought she was Omaera.”
Arik nodded.
Bauer shook his head. “Wouldn’t they smell she wasn’t a demon?
“You’d think,” Arik said. “Who knows how these fuckers work?” He sniffed Gemma’s hoodie. “When they realize the human is neither the Queen, nor a demon, what do you think they will do with her?”
“We’re hoping they contact us to attempt an exchange,” I said. “Killing Gemma will only cause Omaera to go deeper into hiding.”
“No, it won’t,” Omaera said with more fire. “I’m already out for blood after what they did to Delia. This will just make me rain down even more. They killed one of the two people in my life who have ever given a damn about me. And now they’ve kidnapped the other one. If they kill her, I will burn this fucking earth to the ground to get to them and make them pay.” Her gaze landed on me. “And I mean everyone involved. And that goes for those who stand in my way.”
Everyone in the room was silent for a moment, processing the gravity of what she just said .
“Well, we need to be proactive,” Bauer said. “We can’t just sit around hoping they get into contact with us and set up a meeting for an exchange. I doubt they went far. Chances are they’ll have taken her somewhere nearby. The longer the transport, the more room for error.”
Arik nodded. “I agree. I’m not picking up her scent at the moment, but once I get outside I probably will. Cross your fingers that it doesn’t rain. That will make things more challenging.”
“The best thing for you to do is stay put,” Bauer said, addressing Omaera. “Even though demons can only be killed by beheading, if you’re out and about, that puts a target on your back.”
“I’d like to know why they’re coming after you,” Arik added. “What exactly is their motive?”
“We speculate it’s Lerris Byrche,” I said. “King Donovar’s brother. Nobody knew Donovar had an heir. So when he died and the power and title were transferred to Omaera and not Lerris, we’re assuming he set out to find her and usurp the throne.”
“All speculation of course,” Bauer said with a harsh glare my way.
“Of course, but it makes sense. Who else would have motive to go after Omaera? And why now?”
“I want to know how they found Delia,” Arik said. “It makes me wonder if they’re using their own hunter mage?”
I hadn’t thought of that. But there were certainly mercenary mages out there. There were mercenary everything. Those whose allegiance wasn’t to the crown, but to the highest bidder.
“Does your mother have a grave, Little One?” Zandren asked, his big arm wrapped tightly around Omaera.
She nodded. “Yes. Delia and I visited it often when I was younger. I still go a few times a year though. I haven’t been in about four months. Why?”
“Start there,” Zandren said.
Bauer and Arik nodded.
“We’ll need an address for the gravesite.” Bauer pulled out his phone and waited for Omaera to rattle off the address .
“All right,” Arik said. “Stay here and wait for further instruction. We won’t take long, but we’re going to go to the gravesite, Delia’s house, and follow any trail we can interpret from here.” He leveled his brown gaze on Omaera. “We’ll find your friend. I promise.”
It wasn’t lost on anybody that he didn’t say alive .
Fresh tears flowed down Omaera’s cheeks, and she swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Arik and Bauer nodded, then headed out, leaving Zandren, Maxar, Omaera, and I alone.
“Drink your tea, Little One,” Zandren said, picking up the mug from the coffee table and handing it to her. “It’ll help.”
She sipped it gingerly, the tears still trickling down her cheeks.
“I’m going to make some calls to other mages, see if they know of any mercenary mages and if they might be working with the demons,” Maxar said, pulling out his phone. “If there is a mage helping them, I’ll burn them to ash myself.” He put the phone to his ear and wandered out to the balcony.
I glanced at Omaera, feeling more helpless by the second.
“I um . . . I’m going to make a call too,” I said, pulling out my phone. Maybe Raver knew something. He seemed to have his ear to the ground on both nefarious and non-nefarious things. He liked to ride that edge between the wrong side and the right side like a tightrope walker.
And even if Raver knew nothing, I was soothing my own self-loathing by appearing to help.
Right now, there probably wasn’t a vampire alive that hated themselves more than I did. And yet, if given the chance to go back and make things right, I’d probably make the same decision all over again. Because my mate was just that sweet and I was already going through withdrawals.
Omaera was a drug. And I was an addict.
An addict who never wanted to quit her, despite how much she hated me.