Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Marcus glared at the collar shining around Ethan’s neck.
It wasn’t as visible as it had been at Winslow’s house.
Tonight, he’d asked Ethan to wear a new suit he’d had made for him.
It had arrived that morning and fit him perfectly.
The dark-navy jacket and slacks against the white button-down shirt only seemed to set off the damn collar rather than make it less noticeable.
Or maybe it was just him. He would have preferred Ethan wear a nice tie with an interesting design.
Yet, the moment he walked into the Montgomery clan house, they would know he wasn’t a vampire. It wasn’t something that Marcus could clearly explain. When out in the world surrounded by humans, he didn’t sense anything at all.
When he was in a house of vampires and one lone human walked in, it was like those predatory instincts slammed into overdrive. Fangs ached and his pulsed kicked up a tiny bit, beckoning him to hunt. To feed.
The collar put common sense back in the driver’s seat. Usually. It was a sign that the human belonged to someone. No biting unless invited. And Marcus would be damned if another set of fangs were getting anywhere close to Ethan.
“Don’t glare at me like that,” Ethan said in a huffy tone. “You’re the one that declared we were wearing straitjackets. I do have a pair of jeans without holes and a nice sweater.”
Marcus wiped away his dark look. “You look incredibly handsome.”
“But…?”
Reaching up, Marcus ran his finger along the collar, the tip bumping along the priceless gems.
“I’m not a pet,” Ethan reminded him. There was a sweet patience to his voice that made Marcus wonder how many more times they’d have this conversation in their lives together.
“But others will think—”
Ethan stepped into Marcus, lightly gripping the lapels of his jacket.
“I don’t care what others think. Let them think I’m a pet.
Let them imagine me naked on my hands and knees, eager to fulfill your every wish.
Let them be jealous.” Ethan paused, his smile so wonderfully dirty.
“They don’t need to know I’m the center of your universe or that my idea of a perfect night is leaning my head on your shoulder while you play the piano.
Even if my butt does go numb on the hard bench. ”
Marcus brushed a kiss against Ethan’s temple, starting to feel a little lighter. “I’ll order a padded bench for your poor rear end.”
“Good. You need to take care of my rear end.”
Before Marcus could reply about how he planned to take very good care of Ethan’s sweet ass, a loud crash echoed up from the first floor. Whatever made the noise was powerful enough to rock the house slightly, causing Ethan to reach for the closet doorframe.
“Stay here,” Marcus commanded, pointing at Ethan before he ran from the room. He hurried into the hall, which was filling with smoke. Through the gray cloud of smoke, he could make out shapes. People were pouring into his house. Again.
Bastards were attacking his house again!
How could they have found him already?
A soft coughing drew his attention from the hallway to Ethan leaning over the railing next to him, waving the smoke from his face.
Oh God, he had to get Ethan out of the house! Just standing there, he’d counted at least six people. They were horribly outnumbered, and he had no way of getting any of his brothers to his house in time to help. They were completely alone.
Roughly grabbing Ethan’s arm, Marcus’s pulled him down the hallway toward the back staircase. “You have to get out of here now.”
“What? I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to. We’re outnumbered. You have to head directly to Bel’s house. Do you have your phone on you?”
Ethan tried to dig his heels into the carpet to stop their progress, but Marcus was stronger and far more determined. “Yes, but I’m not leaving you alone.”
“I can’t win against them. We can’t.” Marcus stopped at the staircase and gripped both of Ethan’s shoulders tightly in his hands. “I am going to die tonight trying to keep them from getting their hands on you.”
“Marcus, no!”
“If you escape, I’ll simply act as a diversion. Stall them. If you get to Bel, you can come up with a plan to rescue me.”
Marcus watched Ethan’s face for the first sign of him wavering and took it. They couldn’t hesitate any longer. Marcus released Ethan and started silently down the stairs.
“Go directly for the Porsche. The keys are in the glove compartment,” Marcus instructed in a whisper before reaching the last stair. “If I escape, I’ll go to Bel’s.”
But Marcus didn’t plan to escape. The only way to escape was killing every last bastard in his home and he knew his odds were too slim for that.
Besides, capture was the only way to discover who was behind these attempts on his life and the lives of his brothers. He wanted to get to the truth at last.
The kitchen was lit by only a work light over the stove, but it was enough to see that the attackers hadn’t reached that room yet. Thank God the house was so damn big. They were likely checking the front rooms and the second floor still.
He looked over his shoulder to see Ethan hesitating, worry filling his eyes. Marcus gave him a confident nod and pointed for the door that led to the garage. Ethan nodded sharply in return and started for the garage.
Clinging to the idea that Ethan would be able to escape in one piece, Marcus paused at the butcher block long enough to pull out a chef’s knife.
He prayed the damn thing was sharp. Heaven knew he didn’t cook much and couldn’t remember if he’d ever held the thing before—let alone used it on a side of meat.
Marcus took one step toward the kitchen doorway and stopped when a large vampire stepped into the opening, a broad smile spreading across his face.
“Zale,” Marcus growled. That answered his main question far faster than he’d expected. Zale was a loyal foot soldier of the Black Wolf clan. He worshiped its clan head, Minerva, and followed her without question.
Marcus’s only question was why the Black Wolf clan had decided to strike against his family. They might not have seen eye to eye over the centuries, but they’d managed to steer clear of each other.
“Marcus,” Zale said in an almost taunting tone. “Trying to make a run for it?”
“No, just arming myself. You have no business in my lair. Get out now while you still have your life.”
Zale ignored him, looking around the kitchen as he took a step inside. “Where’s that new pet of yours? We were hoping to play with him for a bit before we kill him.” His smile widened when his eyes caught on the open door to the garage.
Marcus lunged at him, swinging the knife at his throat. He would not let Zale or any of the others from his clan anywhere near Ethan.
Zale caught his wrist before the blade could kiss his flesh and he laughed. “You’re gonna have to be faster than that.”
Marcus opened his hand and dropped the knife into the hand waiting at Zale’s stomach.
Zale couldn’t release Marcus’s wrist fast enough to back away.
Marcus jammed the blade deep into Zale’s gut and then ripped it upward, slicing through sinew and organs.
He stopped only when he met the breastplate.
Zale gasped and choked on blood, his body frozen in what was likely shock and pain.
Jerking the blade free, Marcus finished the job by slicing across his throat, severing critical arteries and the windpipe.
Zale would not be healing from those wounds tonight or any night.
With a hard shove, Marcus pushed Zale to the floor where he landed in a blood-spewing, twitching heap.
One down, so fucking many to go.
At least he knew his knife was sharp.
Marcus started to bend down and check Zale for other weapons, but the sound of approaching footsteps had him turning away. He needed to get out of the kitchen and help put some more distance between him and Ethan if his lover was to have a shot at escaping.
In the hall, he was met with another vampire. Bullets peppered his wall, throwing up a bit of drywall as they hit. He dove at the shooter, taking two in the shoulder before reaching him. He hissed in pain but focused on driving the knife into the creature’s heart.
The damn handle was growing slick with blood and his hand was threatening to slip down to the blade. The kitchen knife wasn’t made for this kind of work, but it had saved him twice now, so he couldn’t complain.
As the vampire lay bleeding out from the chest and neck, Marcus grabbed up the gun the vampire had been using. There wasn’t time to check the magazine. The damn thing could have five bullets, or it could have none. He hadn’t been counting when the idiot starting shooting at him.
Pain throbbed in his shoulder, but he was only vaguely aware of it while he tried to figure out how much time had passed since Ethan had disappeared into the garage.
Two minutes? Four? He had to be on the road.
Bel’s house was less than fifteen minutes away in light traffic.
He just needed to keep them busy that long.
It would be enough to give Ethan and Bel a head start.
Attackers were swarming on him faster now that he’d reached the main foyer.
Two vampires were on him in the blink of an eye.
He fired the gun, hitting one in the head, throwing him against the wall, while the other jumped on his back, fangs digging deep into his neck.
He screamed and threw the woman off him, but she took a chunk of flesh with her as she flew across the room.
He could feel the blood pouring down his throat and soaking into his dress shirt.
Pain exploded across the back of his head, and Marcus found himself on his knees.
There was a clatter of noise and he looked down.
Both the knife and gun had fallen from his hands, but he couldn’t remember releasing them.
Someone had hit him with something. Maybe a hammer.
Fuck. His brain felt like it was trying to ooze out of his skull.
He blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. Another vampire he didn’t recognize walked up and kicked him in the stomach. The new pain had Marcus falling forward, barely catching himself as his hand sunk into the blood-soaked Persian rug. Damn. He’d always liked that rug and now it was ruined.
“Get the fucking manacles on him!” someone bellowed.
Marcus tried to sit up, but his head was spinning and his stomach ached so badly he was sure he was going to retch, but it would be blood and he couldn’t afford to lose more of it than he already had.
Metal chains clinked together, the sounds growing closer and closer. The person behind him grabbed one wrist and jerked it behind his back. Marcus tried to fight, but there was too much pain and his body was starting to feel listless and heavy.
A knife was pressed to his throat as a metal bracelet clamped down around his wrist.
“Behave yourself. We’ve got to get you home alive for the party.” The vampire holding the knife had green hair and was smiling at him like he was the best present she’d ever received.
“Fuck off,” Marcus grumbled.
His other arm was pulled behind him, forcing Marcus upright as it was secured as well.
His vision swam, but he forced his eyes to focus on the man walking through the remains of his front door. He had to blink a few times, but his first instinct was right. It was a man. Not a vampire. There was no collar around his neck, but he was working with the Black Wolf clan.
That didn’t make sense.
That clan hated humans. They viewed humans as food only. Not pets. Not comrades. Not friends.
The man was older with graying hair sprinkled in his brown buzz cut.
Lines crisscrossed his face from what Marcus would guess was a life lived hard.
Walking over to Marcus, he stopped a few feet away and leaned down with his hands behind his back.
He was at eye level and all Marcus saw was raw hatred.
“I can see what that faggoty bitch saw in you. Guess he never really stood a chance,” the intruder muttered before he straightened.
“What? Who?” Marcus barely managed.
He didn’t pay him any attention as he looked over at Marcus’s captors. “Did you get the boy too?”
“We’re still searching the rooms, but it looks like one of the cars is missing. He might have gotten out. Run to one of the other brothers.”
The newcomer scowled for a moment and then looked at Marcus, a malicious grin spreading across his face. “That’s fine. Let him run. There’s only one brother left to capture, and he’s going to be the easiest of the four. And I just can’t wait to see Ethan again.”
Marcus’s brain was sluggish, but there were still enough brain cells firing to finally place the man’s words with his face. “Carl?” It was the bastard Ethan had told him about. The one who’d hit him.
Carl laughed, the sound harsh and ugly as it grated over Marcus’s ears. “Quite the mindfuck, isn’t it? I hope Ethan appreciates the surprise. It certainly won’t be the last one tonight.”
Marcus wanted to threaten this fucker. To threaten all of them to keep their hands off Ethan, but something heavy hit him in the head again.
This time unconsciousness swallowed him whole, carrying him at least briefly away from the pain and his worries of whether Ethan made it safely to Bel’s house.
Before he drifted completely away, he had at least one secret to cling to. Beltran Varik was far from the easiest of the brothers to capture. These assholes were in for a very serious surprise as well.