The Warrior Vampire(55)

“Thank you, Jenner.” He had no idea if Siobhan assumed he was speaking in regard to Ronan or the werewolf, but Jenner didn’t much care. And humbling herself by showing appreciation was about as transparent as a Ziploc bag. Over Siobhan’s head, he watched as the blonde took off toward the back of the club. Time for him to make an exit.

“You have an escort tonight?” Siobhan rarely went out alone, and though Jenner knew she could take care of herself, he didn’t want her alone in case the werewolf’s intentions weren’t so innocent.

“Carrig is with me.” Her narrowed gaze followed Jenner’s and a sly smile stretched her lips. “Have a good night.”

“Go home, Siobhan.” Jenner brushed past her, anxious to relieve the ache that had settled in his throat as well as between his legs. “There’s no need for you to stir up any trouble tonight.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he let his dick lead the way as he plowed through the crowded club to get to the blonde. The door to the women’s bathroom swung open and she slid inside, and Jenner picked up his pace. Gods, his throat was on fucking fire. His sac felt like someone had secured it with a drawstring and pulled it tight. The unending feeling of emptiness stole over him, filling him with a desperation that caused his heart to pound in his chest and his stomach to knot up.

Unconcerned with the crowd of females loitering in the space, he shoved past the door. He beelined for the blonde and hoisted her up on the counter, his mouth ravaging hers with a fierceness that left the tang of blood in his mouth.

The tiny skirt hiked up around her waist as she wrapped her legs around his torso and Jenner reached between them, a groan of pure relief rumbling in his chest as his palm found her slick and heated sex. He twined his fingers in the short strands of her hair, jerking her head back as he buried his fangs in her throat.

She came in an instant, her cries echoing off the tiled walls as he drank from her. Gods damn it. She’d be through with him before he even got started. And despite the blood that flowed over his tongue, quenching the fire in his throat, Jenner knew that it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him. It was going to be another long fucking night.





CHAPTER

17

Cold unlike anything he’d ever felt before chased through Ronan’s body. Like an intricate web, the tendrils spread through his brain, his heart, even his lungs. It raced through his veins, making the burn from his blood troth seem like a dip into tropical waters by comparison. A ragged shout of unmitigated pain erupted from his throat as he fell to the ground, his back bowing to the point that he thought his spine might snap.

“If you think I’m kidding, Joaquin, make a move.”

Naya’s voice was a beacon in his pain-hazed mind. Her tone promised death and Ronan almost felt sorry for the poor bastard on the receiving end of her words. A force of pure energy swelled inside of Ronan and he gnashed his teeth until he felt his fangs puncture his bottom lip. Blood welled in the seam of his lips and he swore it froze in a crystalline ribbon. Gods, if whatever the hell was trapped in his body didn’t release soon he was going to fucking explode.

“Ronan? Can you hear me?” She was the only thing he could hear. The center of his entire gods-damned universe. “Stay calm and try to focus.”

Oh, he was focusing all right. On the icy shards that were currently spearing his liver. The Collective intruded on his stream of consciousness, pulling him away from the present. A tidal wave of memories crashed over him, images flashing in super fast-forward as though he sped through time. Ronan clutched at his chest as he relived the memory of a slayer driving his silver-tipped stake through some poor vampire’s heart. Bloodlust flared in Ronan’s throat as he relived another’s first feeding, post-transition.

“Ronan?”

Naya’s voice grew quieter, more distant, and panic seized him. He thrashed his head from side to side as though it would somehow dislodge the hold of the Collective on his mind. There was no refuge for him there with the dead. His salvation was right here in the present.

With her.

“Siobhan.” He wasn’t sure if he spoke the word aloud or not. His mind spun in a dizzying haze, the voices of the Collective scratching at his psyche. “Belong. To her. I’ll break the troth, Naya. Only you. Want … only you.”

His world spiraled into darkness and he fought its seductive pull. Visions of Jenner prowling nightclubs for a fresh vein caused a pang of concern to stab through Ronan’s chest, and another of Claire voicing her concerns to Mikhail. His king worried for Jenner; a vampire who couldn’t master control would be a vampire with a very short life span. Mikhail worried that he would be the male to put Jenner down if he couldn’t get a grip on his lusts. The world Ronan had left behind was unraveling, and the world that lay before him was a dark void that sent a jolt of unease through him.