Lover Mine(115)

The moans of the inducted started up soon after, and the crop of misery that had been reaped was going to get louder and messier as the transition was bridged and the last of their humanity was vomited out of them.

In the midst of the chorus of agony and confusion, The Omega twirled around, stepping over the writhing masses, dancing to and fro, his white robes trailing through the congealing crap on the floor and remaining unstained.

In the corner, the Shit lit up a joint and toked away like he was taking a breather after a good job done well.

Lash stepped back from the window and then retreated toward the trees, all the while keeping his eyes on that house.

Damn it, he should have done something like this. But he hadn't had the contacts in the human world to pull it off. Unlike the Shit.

Man, this was going to change everything for the vampires. Those fuckers were going to actually face a legion of the enemy again.

Back at the Mercedes, Lash started the engine and eased out of farm-landia the long way so he didn't go anywhere near that house. Behind the wheel, with the cold air hitting his face thanks to the shot-out window glass, he was grim. Fuck females and all that bullshit, for real. His sole goal in life was to knock out the Shit. Take the Omega's little prize. Destroy the Lessening Society.

Well . . . females were mostly out of it. He felt absolutely drained because he needed to feed--whatever was happening to his outer layer, his inside was still craving blood and he had to solve this problem before he could face his daddy-o.

Or he was going to get popped.

As he drove toward downtown, he took out his phone and marveled at what he was about to do. But then, a common enemy had a way of making strange alliances.



Back at the Brotherhood compound, Blay got undressed in his bathroom and stepped under the shower. As he took the soap and frothed up some suds, he thought about the kiss in that alley.

About that male.

About . . . that kiss.

Moving his palms over his pecs, he tilted his head back and let the warm water run down his hair and his back to his ass. His body felt like it wanted to arch harder and he let it do its thing, stretching, luxuriating in the warm rush. He took his time shampooing his hair and running that slippery, soapy hand of his around.

While he thought of that kiss some more.

God, it was as if the memory of their lips together was a magnet that dragged him back to home again and again; the pull too strong to fight, the connection too enticing for him to want to avoid it.

Sweeping his palms down his torso, he wondered when he was going to see Saxton again.

When they were going to be alone again.

Moving lower with his hand, he--

"Sire?"

Blay spun around, his heel squeaking on the marble. Covering his hard, heavy cock with both hands, he ducked around the glass door. "Layla?"

The Chosen smiled at him shyly and ran her eyes down his body. "I was called forth? To serve?"

"I didn't call." Maybe she was confused? Unless--

"Qhuinn summoned me forth. I assumed it was to this room?"

Blay briefly shut his eyes as his erection faded. And then he gave himself a boot in his Key West and canned the hot water. Reaching around, he snapped a towel free and wrapped it around his hips.

"No, Chosen," he said quietly. "Not here. His room."

"Oh! Forgive me, sire." She began to back out of the room, her cheeks flaming.

"It's all right--watch out!" Blay lunged forward and caught her just as she bumped into the tub and lost her balance. "You okay?"

"Verily, I should look where I goeth." She glanced up into his eyes, her hands coming to rest on his bare arms. "Thank you."

Staring down at her perfectly beautiful face, it was obvious why Qhuinn was interested. She was ethereal for sure, but there was more to it--especially as her lids lowered and her green eyes flashed.

Innocent, but erotic. That was it. She was that captivating combination of purity and raw sex which to normal males was undeniable--and Qhuinn was not even close to normal. He'd bang anything.

Wonder if the Chosen knew that? Or whether it would matter to her if she did?

With a frown, Blay set her back from him. "Layla . . ."

"Yes, sire?"

Well, hell . . . what was he going to say to her? It was damn clear she hadn't been called back to feed Qhuinn, because they'd just done that the night before--

Christ, maybe that was the point. They'd already had sex once and she was returning for more.

"Sire?"

"Nothing. You'd better go. I'm sure he's waiting."

"Indeed." Layla's fragrance surged, the cinnamon spice flaring in Blay's nose. "And for that I am so grateful."

As she turned and left, Blay watched her hips sway and felt like screaming. He did not want to think of Qhuinn having sex next door--for fuck's sake, the mansion had been the one place uncontaminated by all the extracurricular grind.