Authors: Lynn Hagen
Rick walked down the hallway of a home that was given to him and his group to use while they were in Kentucky. It was the dead of night, and it was times like these that he really missed the familiarity of his own home.
Being a homebody, Rick missed lying in his own bed, using his own kitchen, and sitting back and relaxing in his own living room. He knew it would be a very long time before he could indulge in those simple little things. The opulent home he walked through now made Rick feel as if he were going to become accident-prone and break something. He wasn’t sure why someone of this great wealth would even be willing to get involved in a war that probably didn’t even touch them, but he was grateful.
The lavish home was perched on a hill, surrounded by a ten-foot wall with iron gates at the entrance. The land around them was wooded, which Rick wasn’t too pleased about. Anyone could be hiding in it.
He, Sasha, and Freedman were going to have coffee in the morning and discuss their next move.
But tonight, all Rick wanted was Dorian.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think this was over. Just because the Death Squad was no more didn’t mean they could rest easy. If anything, the government would come at them harder.
Rick knew this.
Martial law had been declared. Riots were everywhere. Protestors were taking to the street with their signs to stop the war. Other protestors were marching in various cities with signs that stated they wanted the
animals
dead.
It was a nation torn.
Even if he proved that changelings had been set up and were wrongly accused, the proof wouldn’t stop the hate groups. They were alive and plenteously thriving.
If the war ended tonight, this second, the hateful people who wanted his species dead would not disappear. They were here to stay.
Rick closed the bedroom door behind him, smiling when he saw Dorian sprawled out on the large four-poster bed, naked, and waiting.
“Although I like this place,” Dorian said as he turned over and lay on his stomach, showing Rick the butt plug firmly in place, “it’s too extravagant, too large. I miss being in a small, cozy home.”
His mate had been thinking along the same lines as Rick.
Rick gave Dorian a grin that included the tips of his canines. He loved seeing his mate like this. It was the quiet moments he shared with Dorian that kept Rick sane. It was the intimacy of being with his mate that reminded him what he was fighting for. Changelings weren’t a savage species. They were comprised of families, devoted mates, and people who just wanted to live a happy life like everyone else.
That wasn’t to say that they didn’t have their bad people, but so did every race, every species. But for the most part, Rick felt that being changeling was a gift he would always treasure. He was born changeling, and would never regret his life—even if he had a few weak moments in his past when he felt that maybe being human would take a large burden off of his shoulders.
“You’re thinking too hard, Rick,” Dorian said. “You are supposed to leave the heavy stuff for the morning. Tonight, in this house, in this room, it’s just us, you and me.”
Rick shed his clothes and climbed up next to his mate, running his hands over Dorian’s smooth back, and then let his fingers trail down to his nicely rounded ass.
“
Solo tú y yo, gatito
.”
“Just you and me,” Dorian repeated with a sigh.
Rick bent down and laid a kiss on each butt cheek, inhaling the musky scent of his mate. His fingers played with the plug, shifting it around as he heard Dorian moan.
Rick leaned forward and slanted his lips over Dorian’s, tasting the liquid fire of his mate’s mouth. “The way you are lying here is tempting my beast.”
A slow grin formed as Dorian opened his eyes. “Sounds like we are going to have great sex then.”
“That we are,
gatito
.” Rick grabbed the lube that was resting by Dorian’s head and lathered his full erection. He twisted his hand up and down the shaft, allowing himself a moment to enjoy the pleasure he was giving himself. His cock was throbbing in his hand, and Rick knew his orgasm wasn’t going to be too far off.
He tossed the bottle aside and grabbed Dorian’s hips, pulling his mate to his knees. Grabbing the plug, he wiggled it around, teasing, torturing his mate before he pulled it free.
“Oh, hell,” Dorian moaned.
Rick lined his cock up with Dorian’s stretched hole and plunged deep. Dorian’s shoulders dropped to the mattress as his ass jutted higher, a small mewling sound escaping his lips.
As the desire racing through his veins like fire began to build, Rick grabbed Dorian’s hips tighter and began an assault that had his mate shouting, begging, crying out, and thrashing around beneath him. Rick became lost in his mate’s sounds, drowning in the feel of his mate’s body wrapped around his cock.
He thrust harder, his shaft burying itself deep every time Rick moved forward. Tonight it was just him and Dorian, and Rick shut out the world as he took his mate, claimed him, relished in the feel of his one sanctuary where no one or nothing could intrude.
“I’m close,” Dorian cried. “Close…so close…yes…don’t stop.”
Rick sped up, his groin crashing into Dorian’s ass as he fucked his mate quickly, letting the bond between them twine them deeper together and take them under at the very same time.
Dorian’s hole pulsed with his release as Rick shouted out his climax, snapping his hips with ferocity. His movements became jerky, and Dorian collapsed beneath him. Rick took a second to gather his senses before falling down next to his mate and pulling Dorian into his side.
As he held his mate, and felt sleep edging toward him, Rick wondered what tomorrow would bring. He still had to find out why everyone seemed to think his father was not the one who gave him life.
The stakes were growing higher, the deceptions deeper, and Edward had informed him that the hate groups were now calling themselves Breed Hunters.
The genesis of the war still hadn’t been found. The werelion who had come out and announced the nonhumans’ existence hadn’t been seen since his traitorous speech.
The lion had become the most wanted changeling in the nonhuman world.
But in the human world, the most wanted man was Enrique Marcelo.
The leader of the Rebellions.
* * * *
Ian Campbell brushed the waves of brown hair from his eyes as he rolled over on the chaise lounge to face the door. He closed his eyes and rode the wave of pain until it subsided and he could sit up. He knew what his back, buttocks, and legs must look like. Newman wasn’t like Calico had been, and Ian wondered where Calico was, but no one would tell him.
Calico may have been heavy-handed when it came to flogging him, but Ian had learned to deal with the pain. He was searching for something more in life, someone who knew what he wanted, needed. So far, he hadn’t found it, but to him, something was better than nothing. Newman seemed to enjoy repeatedly biting Ian, something Ian wasn’t the least bit fond of, but addicted to.
His life was a fucking mess, but Ian didn’t know how to fix it. He wasn’t going to bullshit himself and try to blame his addiction on some sappy story. He was a damn fool. Plain and simple. A friend talked him into going to a fang party. It was something he knew better than to agree to. But that night, stupidity trumped intelligence. He had heard that there were fang addicts, but Ian had convinced himself that one bite wouldn’t turn his life into a living hell.
Fuck if he hadn’t been wrong. So wrong that he lay here craving the powerful aphrodisiac vampires carried in their saliva. His stomach was cramping and his head was killing him. Ian just wanted the pain to go away. He just wanted to feel something other than pain or numbness. Since he was a teenager Ian knew he was different, that he craved things most would consider depraved. He had been lost, alone, and searching for…he wasn’t sure.
Right now, lying on the lounge a raw mess, Ian questioned his own sanity.
Who in the hell yearned for someone to dominate them? He was a man. He shouldn’t dream of having someone who not only ran his life for him, but made him feel safe and secure. Shouldn’t he already feel that way now that he was an adult?
His upbringing had been a happy one with a good family. So why was he so damn twisted? Why did he crave things he shouldn’t even desire?
“You’re awake,” Newman said as he glided into the room. Yeah, he glided. Vampires had a way of doing that. It was an eerie sight. One Ian didn’t think he would ever get used to. “Are you ready for another round?”
Ian could feel his insides knotting, knowing exactly what Newman wanted. He was terrified and craving the offer at the very same time. His entire body was humming with anticipation of the high, but his mind was screaming, fighting against what he knew Newman would do to him in order to obtain the one thing that was going to end up killing him.
But Ian knew he wouldn’t say no.
He was a worthless junkie.
Nothing more.
Nothing spectacular.
He had come to terms with his sick depravities a long time ago. Once, he had tried to play the normal role. He had hung out at home, trying to fit in. He knew his family loved him, but that wasn’t enough. It should have been. But it still left a gaping hole inside of him. A hole he wasn’t sure how to fill.
It should have been enough for his family to love him.
But it wasn’t.
He needed…
something
.
Ian got to his feet, stripping his small underwear off, and stood in the middle of the room. This was one of Newman’s sick games. If Ian wanted his fix, then he had to play along. As fucked up as it sounded, Ian missed Calico. The man was vile and uncaring, but in a weird way, he hadn’t been as terrible as Newman was.
“Hands above your head, human.”
Ian raised his arms, his body shaking as his mind geared up for the moment when Newman bit him, sending him over the edge to not caring anymore and leaving reality to ascend to a place that seemed like heaven, but in all actuality was hell.
Newman wrapped his hand around Ian’s throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp for air, but not enough to make him pass out.
“How badly do you want to be bitten?” Newman kept his hand on Ian’s throat as he circled around to stand behind him. His fingers flexed, and Ian cried out in pain.
“B–Badly, Master Newman.”
Newman’s other hand slid over Ian’s buttocks and Ian cringed. He hated that sex was a part of this. Ian hated sex period. When he first started coming around here, Ian was just seventeen. He didn’t know anything about the BDSM world. Calico had been his first, and the man hadn’t been gentle. He had shown Ian that sex was just a tool when playing a scene. Having anyone touch him now made Ian want to throw up.
He prayed Newman just wanted to play his games and didn’t take it as far as sex. If he did, Ian hoped the man bit him first so he could sink deep into his mind and wouldn’t have to deal with the man’s sadistic pleasures.
“I have plans for you tonight, human. Big plans. You should be honored.” Newman released his throat and ran his hands down Ian’s chest. He gave an unpleasant grunt when his hands touched Ian’s flaccid cock. “You will be hard when I take you to the viewing room and let the others play with you. Do you understand me, human?”
Ian’s breath froze in his lungs. His mind began to race at what Newman was telling him. Never before had he gone to the viewing room, and never before had anyone else played with him except Calico and then Newman. His depravities were committed in private. Ian knew any protest he had would fall on deaf ears. No one went against what a vampire wanted. If he told Newman he wasn’t going to be a part of the
big plans
, then Newman would simply kill him and find someone else to play with.
“Yes, Master Newman.” He had to get out of here. Ian was practically shaking apart for Newman to bite him, but Ian had seen what happened in the viewing room. He had nightmares about what he had witnessed.
“Good,” Newman said. “I will be back later to fetch you. But until then—” Newman sank his fangs into Ian’s neck, biting down hard as Ian cried out. His arms fell to his sides as he was thrown into a world where nothing existed but pleasure. His mind became murky, his thoughts fuddled, his body limp as he rode the waves of ultimate euphoria.
He felt Newman carry him to the couch and lay him down, but Ian didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything. He didn’t care if he had fallen to the floor. He didn’t care that his family probably hated him. He didn’t even care if Newman wanted to use him for sex.
He just did not care.
“Hey.”
Ian blinked his eyes when someone tapped him on the face. He tried to focus, but his head wouldn’t clear and his thoughts stayed scattered.
“You need to wake up.”
Ian tried to lick his dry lips, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He tried again, but only managed to let his tongue hang out of his mouth.
“If you don’t wake up, you’re going to die.”
Ian’s head flopped to the side as he tried to focus on who was talking to him. Oh, yeah, he knew this guy. He was the little vampire everyone picked on. Why was he here?
“Newman isn’t going to just share you tonight, human. It’s going to be a feeding frenzy. He plans on letting everyone drain you, and then he’s going to kill you. You need to get up.”
Ian grunted when the small guy tried to pull him up into a sitting position. His body wouldn’t stay up. He slumped back down onto the couch. “Leave me be,” he moaned.
“Then we do this the hard way.” The vampire lifted Ian off of the couch. For a little dude, the guy was strong. He wondered if the man could lift the entire couch with him on it. That would be something to see.
Ian groaned when he was carried over the man’s shoulder and down the hall. He could tell the small vampire was sneaking because he kept ducking into various rooms every few steps.
“Am I going to the viewing room?” Ian asked as his head began to throb.
“Believe me, you don’t want that.”
Ian heard a door opening and knew they were heading to the back of the club, outside to the alley.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked as his mind began to clear a little. The chill in the air was like a slap to his face. His mind wasn’t totally focused, but he was aware enough to know he was outside, naked.
“I’m saving your life,” the vampire said as he lowered Ian to the ground. “You need to get out of here and never come back. If you show your face here again, Newman will kill you.”
Ian was slumped against the brick building. He hissed when hard surface met raw back, buttocks, and legs. He began to shiver, feeling the cold air stealing the heat of the club from his skin. “Why?”
“Because you have outgrown your use. Newman is tired of you.”
Ian glanced up at the vampire as the guy headed back for the door. “Why are you helping me?”
The vampire turned, glaring down at Ian. “Trust me. It isn’t because I like you. Your presence has caused nothing but trouble since your brother found you here. I’m doing this for purely selfish reasons. If Newman kills you, the changelings will descend on this place and burn it to the ground. Newman is too arrogant to see that. Now get the fuck out of here.” The door closed, and Ian was left in the dark alley.
Cold.
Alone.
And naked.