Eternal Beast: Mark of the Vampire (26 page)

Sara wondered what went on in his mind regarding Ladd. Did he want to be the boy’s father? Or, like the rest of the sons of the Breeding Male, did fear keep him at arm’s length and his mouth shut tight to the truth?

With a burst of sound, the doors to the library opened and the wolf
mutore
entered. Sara would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that this
paven
had something special. Thing was, she wasn’t sure exactly what it was. Lycos was tall and broad like all the Breeding
Male
paven
s, but he had an unpredictable wildness about him, from his hair to his eyes to the way he seemed to always be in predator mode.

“About time,” Erion said flatly. “Where the hell have you been?”

“And more important,” Helo added, “what did you gain from this contact of yours? What did the male say?”

“Wasn’t a male,” Lycos growled, heading over to the couch, yanking Phane’s booted feet off the end and plunking down beside him.

“You truly are a dog,” Phane muttered. “In every damn sense of the word.”

Lycos chuckled. “Every sense? You don’t see me humping your leg, do you?”

“Not yet,” Phane returned with a grunt. “But give it a minute or two.”

Lycos released a wild, feral howl, and Kate put her hands over Ladd’s ears. “
Gentlepaven
, watch your language and your audio levels please.” She eyed every
paven
in the room, and they all seemed to shrink a little beneath her fierce gaze.

Shifting to his knees, Ladd pushed Kate’s hands away and did a howl of his own.

The room broke with laughter, the tension from a moment ago eased somewhat.

Kate lifted her chin. “The least you could all do is set a good example for him.”

Trying to suppress his laughter, Nicholas addressed them all. “I’d do as she says, brothers. You don’t want my mate whipping out that blade she carries at her ankle. It only feels good when she’s trying to get herself a meal.”

“Nicholas Roman,” Kate scolded, then looked up at Sara and shook her head. “Why do we even try?”

“Because these
paven
s need us,” Sara said with a bright-eyed smile. “Whether they deserve our care is up for debate.”

“I know I deserve it,” Alexander stated roguishly. “Twenty-four-seven, if she’ll have me.”

Sara rolled her eyes at her mate. “Boys.”

“We apologize,
veana
s,” Phane said with more affected manners than Sara had ever seen from him. “We’ll try and keep it down.”

“Keep it appropriate,” Helo added. “You know, we’re not used to—well, all of this.”

“He means a family atmosphere,” Erion finished, his gaze shifting to Ladd.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll all be very good little boys, Mummy,” Lucian drawled, his gaze completely focused on Lycos. “Now, come on, wolfie, give us the story. Just keep it G-rated so the females here don’t have a reason to knock us about.”

As Lycos told of the female he had encountered, attempting to keep it as G-rated as he could manage, Sara looked over at Alexander again. This time his gaze was trained on her. In it, she saw the great love he had for her and the deep sorrow of a
paven
who would be returning to the one place on earth he never wanted to go to again. And her heart lurched. She wished she could be by his side as she’d been the last time he’d gone home.

For Gray, entering the city was like auditory overload on steroids. In the woods, in the cave, he’d been exposed
only to the sounds of nature and animals—nothing with words and nothing that had entered his mind.

Except for his own thoughts, which at times were nearly as tough to take.

With Dillon in her jaguar state walking beside him, Gray moved through the parts of the Bronx he knew were less populated. According to a digital display on one of the banks they passed, it was nearly four a.m. There was no perfect time to traverse the city with a jaguar by your side, but this was about the best, and least conspicuous, it was going to get.

Turning down an alleyway, Gray sought out the shadows, trying to keep Dillon as hidden as possible. Granted, she could shift back and be the naked chick running up the city street, which might actually be better than an uncontained feral wild animal, but they’d cross that bridge when they were forced to.

As if she’d read his mind, she grumbled, “I need clothes.”

“Or a leash and collar,” he said, crossing into another alleyway.

Her eyes darted around; then she stalked past him. “Let’s not start that again.”

“Just trying to get you to blend in, D.”

“Never have, never will.”

“Besides,” he said, stopping near the edge of the alleyway to wait for a garbage truck to pass. “Your jag likes the idea of a collar. She wants to be contained by me.”

Dillon’s large head shifted to face him. “What?”

His back against the brick wall, Gray kept his eyes
on the world around him. “I can feel it. Every time I mention it, the cat purrs.”

“You’re cracked.” Though the words exited her jaguar’s mouth, the fierce outrage was all Dillon.

Gray turned and looked directly into her eyes. “I will put a black collar around your neck and a leash to keep you close to me.”

On cue, Dillon’s jaguar purred. She gasped, trying to stop it—the sound, the deep rumble within her. She backed up a few steps.

The heat in his eyes pounded through her. “You may not be mine, D, but she is.”

He saw her start, her fur bristle, but he gave her no time to respond. “Let’s go. Just a few blocks away now.”

As the scent of smoke pushed into his nostrils, Gray moved in silence, staying deep in the shadows, under fire escapes, away from entrances and exits, until they came out on the street lined with warehouses. Immediately he sensed that something wasn’t right. Dread moved through him as the scent of smoke grew stronger, more intense, and he quickened his pace. A moment ago, he’d been thinking about taming her Beast—his Beast—and now, as he placed his arm over his mouth to keep from coughing, he heard only panic in his mind.

Shock, horror, and disbelief gripped him by the balls as he came to a halt a few yards from the Impure Resistance headquarters.

Or what was left of it.

“Oh God,” Dillon breathed as they both stayed back. “What the hell happened here?”

Gray felt as though he’d been emptied of all air. As he stood there and witnessed the smoking pile of rubble that used to be the Impure Resistance—that was now being treated by several firefighters with some kind of chemical retardant—his mind churned with images of the warriors, of Samuel and Uma, and of another fire so long ago.

His hands twitched. His true mate mark throbbed.

“The Order did this,” he uttered, his voice sounding destroyed even to his own ears. It had to be them. The Impure warriors’ message was still playing in his head. The Order was coming after them. Gray sniffed. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

“We need to go,” he said flatly.

“Go,” Dillon repeated. “Go where?”

“They could be watching us, waiting for us—for you.” He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck. “Move. Into the shadows and down the street.”

She didn’t argue with him. Not then. They ran, side by side in silence. Back into alleyways, heading out of the Bronx. Overhead, the sky was beginning to change, lighten. When they were far enough away, when the scent of smoke dissipated, she came at him.

“Where are we going?” she called out to him. “We can’t just run around the city.”

Gray kept his eyes forward and his speed even—and his direction spot-on. “We’re going to a secret location.”

“It’s getting light out,” she said. “Let me flash us there.”

“No,” he said harshly. He couldn’t seem to stop the heat in his tone or the grip of hatred that was rolling
through him with every step he took. The Order would pay dearly for this, he mused. “It’s too dangerous to flash.”

“Maybe it’s more dangerous not to.”

Gray darted into an alley between two buildings and came to an abrupt halt in the shadows of a massive trash can. Breathing hard, gaze flaring with intensity, he dropped down on his haunches and stared straight into those green cat eyes. “You need to make a decision. Right here, right now.” His nostrils flared. “This isn’t playtime anymore—shit, it never was—but this is the end of the road for pulling you along, pulling you into something that has nothing to do with you. You were right about that. This isn’t your fight. But, true mates or not, I have the Resistance to lead, warriors to find, Impures to rescue and protect. And right now, that’s more important than us, than you.”

“Why?”

Her overtly simple reaction stunned him. “What do you mean why?”

She made a grunting sound and her expression turned hostile. “I don’t understand your utterly blind passion for this. Forget the danger you’re always in or the constant battles you seem to get into with that jerk-off Rio—what have any of these Impures ever done for you, Gray? And the warriors. They bleed you dry, accept your role as leader, then constantly question it.” She inched closer to him. “Let’s go. Let’s get out of here, forget the war and the bad blood and the Order’s bullshit rules and go make our own.”

There was a moment, a flicker inside Gray that responded to her words, her passion. There was a moment
when he wanted to leap and run just as she’d suggested. That was the part of him that loved this
veana
, craved this
veana
, had always hoped there could really be something between them. But a true mate’s bond wasn’t enough for him to turn his back on an entire group of suffering Impures and a dictatorial rule that needed to be taken apart and left like the Resistance Headquarters—in ashes.

His guts clenched. Just the fact that she’d suggested running made it all the more clear how important this uprising was to him—and how they could never be a true part of each other’s lives.

She was watching him, her lip curling. “You blame me for this, don’t you? The fire, the misplaced Impure warriors?”

Gray’s eyes searched hers for something close to humanity. The Order may have come looking for her, may have put a match to that building to send a message. But this was so much bigger than her, than him. Looking into her gaze, he knew she didn’t see it, couldn’t see it. Her eyes were devoid of concern for anyone but herself, her future, including having him in it.

He shook his head. “Shit. You’re right. You don’t get this.”

Dillon pulled back from him, shook her massive head. “It goes against every survival instinct I have. And those instincts have kept me alive and breathing and sane.”

A few seconds passed between them, a few emotions and several heavy regrets. It seemed as though she were waiting for him to grab her and pull her close,
tell her she was coming with him whether she wanted to or not.

But Gray stood his ground and kept his damaged hands at his sides.

As the sun rose further, the bond between them started to sink like a stone in the water. Dillon released a breath, gave him one last look and turned around, ran away down the alley.

Pain like he’d never felt before coursed through his veins, and the mark on his hand burned with a fire that would never die.

She was his love, his true mate, and as he watched the last flick of her tail before it disappeared behind the building, he felt the deep pull of grief within him.

Grief, but not surprise.

S
he’d run all the way to the ocean. She’d stood before the dark, churning sea. She’d shifted into her
veana
form, then raced into the frigid water and dived beneath the waves. As her skin turned to ice, she’d wondered what it felt like to drown—and what it felt like to live.

With him.

Without him.

She’d be wondering that every day of her life from now on because she’d walked away from him. Not only him, but all that he believed in.

The icy water hardened her blood, but it couldn’t reach the cat inside her, who burned to be with its master—would perhaps even try to return to its master without her consent. Dillon knew the control over her shift wasn’t guaranteed anymore. Shit, Gray had more control of it than she did…That male soothed her savage Beast something fierce and cleared the way for her
veana
to come through.

He gave her body peace, her mind too. So why couldn’t she give him what he needed? Why was it so hard for her to watch him fight for his Impures? Support him in that fight? Because, goddamn it! She slapped the water with her fists.
He
was one of them—an Impure. Why couldn’t she understand that fighting for them was fighting for him too?

She swam close to shore, then walked out of the sea and shifted back into her jaguar once more.

Without another thought, she bolted from the sand and ran. She ran for miles in full daylight, praying she wouldn’t be seen. But it was impossible. Back in the city, though careful to remain in the shadows, she ran into several shocked and terrified souls on their way to work. It was only when she hit a familiar street and stole around the side of the massive house and through the back door that she felt as if she could breathe again.

Luckily, the first person she ran into was the very one she sought, and she whimpered and rubbed up against the female’s side.

“Dillon,” Sara exclaimed, surprise unmasked in her tone as she left her nearly unpeeled orange on the counter and came to stand before the massive cat.

“I need help,” Dillon said, hating the desperation in her voice. Knowing she probably reeked with it, there was no point in pretending. “I need clothes, somewhere to stay until it gets dark.”

Sara glanced around, no doubt looking for the many
paven
s in the house, and whispered, “Follow me.”

Dillon moved silently behind her, up the stairs and down the hall to the room she knew by scent was Sara and Alexander’s. As soon as Sara opened the door, Dillon
raced inside and immediately shifted into her
veana
form.

Sara’s eyes widened as she took in Dillon’s naked form. It was funny. Just a few months ago, Dillon had thought herself attracted to this female. But now she knew what that minor obsession had been about. Going after a person who was already taken—whose heart belonged to someone else. She’d thought it had made life uncomplicated, free of vulnerability and the pain of losing control.