Thirst (The Vampire Syndicate #6)

Chapter 1

Cain

Talon looked wrecked. Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, his curly hair a wild mess, his olive skin washed out.

He needed to feed, but nothing, not even the blood thirst, was prying him from his mate Eden and their newborn spawn.

Something twisted in my chest, jagged and raw.

My best friend—hell, my brother in everything but DNA—had a son now, and I was standing there like some idiot kid with his nose pressed to the glass.

I knuckled my sternum, trying to rub the ache away.

Pathetic. I should be happy for him.

I’d been wearing a track in the stone floor outside Castle Leclerc’s birthing suite since midnight, wishing I could do something to help.

Around three in the morning, Brien, our syndicate primus and the third man in our band of brothers, had joined me.

We were seated against the wall, passing a bottle of blood-whiskey back and forth, when a loud cry sounded on the other side of the thick door.

We exchanged a look and scrambled to our feet just as Eden’s parents, who’d been waiting in the castle above, hurried up.

“Talon told them to get us,” Gigi told Brien. “What’s going on?”

Before he could reply, Talon yanked open the door, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a boy.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I—we have a son.”

With a happy cry, Gigi brushed past us to hug him.

Eden’s father, a weathered lobsterman named Wes, eyed Talon over his wife’s blond head. “They’re okay?”

“Yeah. He’s pissed off at the world and Eden…she was fucking awesome. Olivia says they’re both doing great.”

“Thank the Dark Goddess,” Brien murmured, as Gigi and Wes released Talon to go to their daughter.

I nodded, unable to speak. All I could do was pound Talon on the back.

Then we were all in the suite. Talon returned to Eden’s side, but I hung back while the others crowded around the bed, oohing and aahing over the kid. The midwife tidied up, her rubber-soled shoes soundless on the tile floor.

Eventually, things settled down and I got a closer look at Jude Talon Montgomery Esposito.

Talon grinned up at me, one hand on the tiny dhampir’s head.

I gave him a thumbs-up and mouthed, “You did good.”

He ran a fingertip over the kid’s dark tuft of hair. The tang of disinfectant mingled with the musk of sweat and blood. Underneath was the smell of baby Jude, all soft, sweet innocence.

The jagged thing in me screwed deeper.

Talon’s gaze locked on Eden, cradling their spawn to her breast. Like Talon, she looked like she’d been through a war. Her golden hair clung to her damp skin, and smudges shadowed her blue eyes. But at Talon’s smile, she bit her lip, then smiled back—bright, unguarded.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and together, they looked down at the kid. He was red-faced and crumpled but you could tell they thought he was the most beautiful baby in the world.

Envy burned low in my chest, and I hated myself for it.

I could count my friends on one hand and still have fingers left over. And Talon? He was at the top of the list, above everyone, even Brien.

The man had my back. Always. We’d been turned to vampire the same night, had sworn the same oath of loyalty to Brien, shared the title of Maritime Syndicate lieutenants.

Talon and Brien were my brothers, but Talon had been the first, the guy who’d saved me from the hell that had been my homelife even though he’d only been a kid himself.

But now, Talon had Eden, too. A mate.

I slipped my lucky metal from beneath my sweater, thumb tracing the worn engraving. I only wore it when I needed the odds bent in my favor. Tonight, I’d worn it for Talon.

The jagged ache increased. My fingers clenched on the cold steel disc.

He’s still your friend, you idiot.

Eden wasn’t good enough for him, but hell, what woman would be? She was head-over-ass in love with him, and that was what mattered. And now they’d mated, losing her would gut him. That made her my people, too.

Twilight, Brien’s mate, slid between me and Brien and jabbed me in the ribcage. When I scowled at her, she angled her head at Brien.

“Wake up, dude,” she said in an undertone. “He’s making a toast.”

Resisting the urge to rub my side—the woman had bony elbows—I took a glass of the blood-champagne that someone had passed me and joined Brien and the others in congratulating the new parents.

Jude gave a tiny, very Talon-like growl. A chuckle ran around the room.

Then it was my turn. I saluted the new family with my glass.

“To my oldest friend and his beautiful mate. May Lilith bless you both.” I met Eden’s eyes. “I hope you’ll allow me the honor of sponsoring Jude at his naming ceremony.”

Talon was already nodding, but she was the kid’s mom. We exchanged a long look—she knew damn well I’d urged Talon to cut her loose, but she also knew I’d had a good reason—then raised her orange juice to me. “Of course.”

I swallowed. That was okay, then. I’d been forgiven—or at least, she was willing to give me another chance.

The impromptu party continued—Talon even gave Eden a ring—but I’d had my fill of sparkles and happiness. When they called for another round of champagne, I made my excuses, then raised my fist to Talon, a ritual that went back to when we were both kids.

Always our left fists, the hand that had once born the mark of our blood brother pact. The scar had disappeared after we were turned, but I still felt its phantom burn. I knew he did, too.

He solemnly bumped my knuckles with his own. “When will you be back?”

When I have Nazaire by the balls.

I shrugged. “Can’t say.”

Brien and I were keeping the details of this operation from Talon. He might insist on coming, and right now, he belonged here with Jude and Eden.

Talon’s eyes narrowed. Then Eden yawned and shifted uncomfortably on the bed, and whatever he’d been about to say died. He rushed back to her side. “You’re tired, sweetheart.” He glanced around the room, voice commanding. “Okay, everyone. She needs to rest.”

That was my cue. I nodded at Brien and headed for the door.

He followed, catching me in the hall. “You sure you don’t need backup?”

“Too risky.” I jiggled my leg, eager to get going. “I don’t wanna spook my contact.”

“About this contact—”

“Don’t ask.”

His pale green eyes frosted. “I could order you to tell me.”

My hackles raised. Brien didn’t usually play the primus card with me. “Or you could trust me.”

“At least take someone with you—Adrian, for example.”

I pretended to consider his suggestion. The young dhampir was smart, tech-savvy, hungry to prove himself. But I couldn’t risk him finding out who my contact was.

“No,” I said. “I go alone. It’s the only way I can get what I need.”

“Damn it, Cain.”

I met his eyes. Brien wasn’t just my alpha, he was my friend, and he was in danger, too. But I knew he didn’t give a rat’s ass about that, so I went for his weak spot. “You want them to come for Twilight again? Or Eden and the baby?”

“You know I don’t. It’s the only reason I’m allowing this.” Brien dragged a hand over his wheat-colored hair. “Check in every few days, understand? Or I’m coming after you myself. I won’t lose you over this.”

“Chill, would you? I can handle myself. I’ve saved your skin a time or two, haven’t I?”

Didn’t he know my life didn’t matter? The only people I cared about were in this room, and I’d gladly take a stake to the heart for any one of them.

Brien just shook his head and stepped back into the birthing suite. I took a last look at Talon. The guy’s happiness was almost indecent, the kind of joy that didn’t leave room for anything else.

He’s still your best friend. Your blood brother.

Nothing could erase that. But things had changed, and we both knew it. Eden and the baby were his whole world now. They came first. They should.

And I was okay with that.

Or I would be. Eventually.

What I couldn’t stomach—what had me wanting to chew nails, in fact—was a rival enforcer kidnapping a pregnant Eden to strike at the syndicate. She’d nearly died, Talon’s spawn along with her. As it was, we’d almost lost them both to blood slavery.

I headed for my quarters, jaw tight. Time to end this. Nazaire had been behind Eden’s kidnapping, and we all knew it. The same Nazaire who’d tried to buy Twilight at an illegal blood-slave auction.

The man was a fucking thorn in our side. Every time trouble crawled out of the shadows in the past few years, the Quebec City Syndicate enforcer was either lurking nearby or pulling strings from a distance.

But going after another syndicate’s women? That was gutter-level even for him.

Still, without proof, we couldn’t take him out. Not unless we wanted a blood feud with the QCS.

So I intended to get that proof.