Hagen, Lynn - Montana's Vamp [Brac Pack 16] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

Brac Pack 16

LYNN HAGEN

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Gabriel Sloane pulled himself tighter into a ball under the brush as the cars on the bypass zoomed by, the sun irritating his pale flesh. He pulled his arms into his shirt, trying to protect them the best he could. But even in the shade, they tingled with pain.

Although he wouldn’t burst into flames as the Hollywood movies portrayed, he would blister badly. He had sought out shelter when he could no longer walk along the long stretch of road as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

His stomach grumbled from being so empty, and he felt light-headed. He was only half vampire. His mother had been fully human, so he didn’t live solely off of blood. He needed it, as did any vampire, but his thirst only struck him once every two weeks whereas a full vampire had to feed once a week.

He slammed his eyes shut as the sun rose higher, burning his pupils and drying his eyes out. Gabby rolled over, extracting the eyedrops from his front pocket. His fingers stretched the skin apart as he added a few drops to each, blinking as the liquid soothed them then ran down the sides of his face.

Part of the liquid escaping was the drops, but part of it was his tears. Being half vampire had caused him nothing but pain in his coven. The other vampires taunted him, literally pushed him around as they sneered at him. He couldn’t help it that he had to eat human food to survive. He also couldn’t help it that he was a diabetic.

He nearly died twice when the vampires who taunted him hid his insulin. He wasn’t tall or lean, and didn’t have the trademark of flowing black hair. He wasn’t even strong like them.

Gabby was short, a little pudgy, and had spiky hair that was reddish orange. They poked fun at him for having a child’s voice, for being too inquisitive, and for talking too damn much, as they put it.

Gabby was raised in the coven, his mother dying giving birth to him. He had drained her in the womb when he was being carried. Not something he intentionally did, but a vampire baby needed blood. With his mother being human, she couldn’t withstand the pregnancy.

The vampire doctor had cut her open to retrieve Gabby. That’s what his father had told him. The guilt of what he had done ate at him for over one hundred years now. He was considered a young one, but he was an adult now.

His father being his cruel and usual self had told him this, wanted to watch the pain he suffered at the knowledge that he had killed his own mother. At the age of three, he had cried every night, wishing he had his mom to hold him. The mother he had killed. A fact his father never let him forget.

Maybe that’s why they had done the unthinkable.

They had finally done it, kicked him out of his coven in broad daylight and threatened to kill him if he ever came back. Gabby had been traveling for two weeks now. The city he just passed through had a coven, but he wasn’t going to go to the prince and ask for shelter.

He had had enough of coven life.

Gabby lay under the foliage, tired and hungry, lost and lonely. All he ever wanted was for someone to love him. Hug him and show him that they cared.

Wrapping his arms around his hungry belly, Gabby closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * * *

Montana lay on the hood of his truck, which was parked in the gravel drive along with all the other shifters’ vehicles. He tossed a small, blue stress ball into the air, catching it, and then tossing it back up, bored out of his damn mind.

Every warrior in that house was mated except Montana and the Santiago brothers—they didn’t count because they never acted as though they were a part of the pack.

He hadn’t found his mate yet and most likely wouldn’t. Being in there only reminded him of what he didn’t have. As badass as he was, he was still a shifter who longed to find his mate just like any other.

Rolling from the hood of his truck, Montana climbed in. The sun had set, and the air held a warm breeze as he made his way into town. He didn’t have patrol duty for a while. Maybe he would stop in at the diner the warrior Cody owned along with a human business partner. Humans had no knowledge of them.

At least that used to be true.

He parked his truck in front of the diner and killed the motor. Grabbing a booth in the diner, Montana took the offered menu from the half-wolf and mate, Tangee, who worked there.

“What can I get you to drink, Montana?” Tangee asked as he handed the warrior the rolled up silverware.

“Since you don’t serve beer, I’ll take a coke.” Montana chuckled as he opened his menu. He knew it like the back of his hand, but reading it gave him something to do.

His eyes slowly rose up from the dinner selections when a small patch of reddish-orange caught his eye. Two small jade-green eyes peeked over the back seat of the booth in front of him. The rest of this person’s face was hidden by the seat, but they were the most stunning color Montana had ever seen.

The eyes slowly lowered as the person ducked down. Montana could tell the half face was adult. This was no kid peeking over his seat at him. He went back to his menu amused. If the little twink was interested, Montana would show him a good time in the back of his truck. It had been a while since he had had sex, and part of his irritated state he was constantly in stemmed from that.

Montana bit back a smile when the little puff of orange surfaced again, green eyes slowly coming up past the booth, the ascending face stopping just below the eyes. They blinked, widened, and then descended back down.

Montana held onto his menu as he pushed out of the booth he was in, walked over to the next one, and then slid in. The guy was curled up on the seat, blinking up at him in surprise.

A smile tipped the corners of the warrior’s mouth at how cute the little man was. “Hi.”

The little guy squeaked, covering his face with his hands. His fingers split apart as he peeked through them at Montana.

Montana grinned wider. This little fireball was very fuckable. “What’s your name, pumpkin?” The color of the fireball’s hair reminded Montana of a pumpkin sitting out on a front porch at Halloween.

The fingers closed back together as the man tried to scoot under the table. Montana stuck his leg out, stopping the pumpkin from escaping.
Oh no
, he was getting some of that.

The man slid back onto the seat, upright this time as his green eyes lighted a little at Montanan. “G–Gabby.”

Montana draped an arm over the back of the booth, thoroughly enjoying the view from his side of the table. “Are you hungry, pumpkin?”

The sexy twink’s cheek’s flamed. He lowered his head, looking totally embarrassed. Montana noticed he only had a small plate of toast in front of him and a glass of water. From the look of the man’s body, he was used to eating more.

Montana didn’t like skinny men. He was a very large wolf, stood six foot four and was two hundred and forty-five pounds of raw muscle. He liked to eat and wanted a guy he could grab hold of in or out of bed.

He never did like feeling bones when he smoothed his hands down a body. No, he wanted flesh to grab, and this man fit his bill perfectly.

Montana’s smile slowly faded when the most heavenly scent wafted past his nose. The scent of fire and cinnamon was intoxicating. A muscle quivered in his jaw as he realized the little pumpkin that he wanted to roll around in the bed of his truck was his mate.

* * * *

Gabby was terrified and mystified all at the same time.

A sweet aroma had surrounded his head while he nibbled his toast, the only thing he could afford with the few dollars he had in his pocket.

He wasn’t eating properly, and his blood sugar level was rising. He had two bottles of insulin left and no vampire doctor to replenish his supply. With the lack of food lately, Gabby had been skimping on his dosage, trying to make it last. He was starting to feel anxious, so he attributed the aroma to his empty stomach.

He swallowed the full glass of water and held his hand up for another glass. The waiter with flames licking his neck walked back over to his table and refilled his glass. “Dude, that’s like your fifth glass. Are you okay?”

Gabby’s mouth felt like he had it stuffed with cotton balls. He couldn’t quench the thirst, and what made it even worse was that he was coming up on his two weeks.

Another thirst was invading him.

Well, at least he could take care of one of his problems right now. “Excuse me.” He slid from the booth, walking quickly to the bathroom.

Gabby ripped open his fanny pack as soon as he cleared the bathroom door. He sat the only syringe he had on the counter as he extracted the bottle of insulin and pushed thirty units of air into the glass bottle, pulling back thirty units of the medicine.

He pulled paper towels from the dispenser, laying the syringe on them as he placed the bottle back into his fanny pack. He couldn’t take chances. With his luck, he would knock it off the counter and break the dang bottle, leaving him with only one.

Gabby moistened a towel with soap and water. He was low on alcohol pads as well, saving them to clean his needle for future use. He was taking big risks with the continued use of the same needle and the poor way he cleaned it, but he had no choice. He pinched a chunk of his love handle and cleaned the area. Once done, he tossed the towel aside as he picked the syringe up.

“What the fuck!”

Gabby’s head shot sideways as he cried out. The big man from his booth grabbed his syringe and threw it across the bathroom. He raced to it, knowing he would have to use another preciously low supply of alcohol pads to clean the needle again since it landed on the floor.

“You’re a drug user!” the man’s angry voice thundered in the small restroom. With lightning-fast motion, he grabbed Gabby around the waist as he hauled him from the bathroom.

“No! I need it. Please, let me go. I have to get to it.” Gabby wiggled in the man’s arm, struggling to break free. He became slightly confused and a little dazed from his high sugar. He felt nauseous as he pulled at the large stranger’s arms.

“You don’t need it, pumpkin.” The man caressed his cheek, smiling sadly at him as Gabby cried.

“I–I do. I’m gonna die if I don’t get it,” Gabby’s voice was filled with frustrated tears.

* * * *

Montana felt a painful knot in his chest. His mate was a drug user. The mate, Drew, who was mated to the warrior Remi, had been one years ago before his warrior found him. Remi had helped Drew through it. Maybe Drew could help his pumpkin.

“What’s going on?” Cody asked as he approached their table slowly, his brows drawing down in a questioning frown.

Montana’s head shook in dismay as he answered the wolf. “He’s my mate, Cody. I caught him trying to use drugs in the bathroom.”

“Shit, get him home. Drew can help him.” Cody stepped back as Montana heaved Gabby up into his arms and stood in one fluid motion.

“No, no, no. I’m a diabetic. I need that syringe,” Gabby shouted as he began to squirm around again. “Check my fanny pack, you’ll see.”

Montana lowered his large frame onto the booth seat, and sat sideways as he brushed Gabby’s hand away. He unzipped the pack, extracting a glass bottle. The warrior Cody snatched it from him, reading the label.

“Shit,” he cursed as he raced into the men’s room, coming back a second later with the syringe between his fingers. “He’s telling the truth.” Cody handed the needle to Montana.

“Let me do this.” Montana pulled it away from him.

“Y-You have to clean the needle.” His mate’s unsteady fingers dug into his pack, handing Montana an alcohol pad. Montana tore it open, bathing the silver prong with the moist gauze.