Three’s a Clan

Sometimes the only way to hold on is to let it all go.

Hart Clan Hybrids
, Book 3

Finding out she’s a byproduct of her maker’s plan for world domination is a letdown for Shelly Meyers. Now she must figure out where to pin her loyalties. Tradition tells her to follow her leader, but something tells her tradition is overrated. Is it her conscience? Nah. Not that. Not anymore.

Richard Paulson never planned on turning furry, yet here he is, an Alpha in charge of a pack. Even with Doc, his beta, at his back, he seems to keep winding up in another frying pan.

Long ago, Trevor “Doc” Paulson gave the woman he loved to someone who could give her the life she deserved. Now, as he and Richard fight to prevent history repeating, he’s struggling not to act on pure attraction—again. He knows he should be Rick’s voice of reason, but what happens when the three of them get close makes no sense at all.

Together they must decide to let go of the past to forge a new future—and fast. Before a power-hungry vampire takes it all away.

Warning: This book contains a sexually volatile vampire who is about to grab the world and a couple of werewolves by the balls. Not for the faint of heart, or those who are opposed to sex, blood, bites, multiple partners and multiple orgasms.

Three’s a Clan

Roxy Mews

Dedication

For Angela. You helped me realize I wasn’t alone when I really needed it, and this book wouldn’t have happened with such joy if it weren’t for you. Thank you.

To my crew at Lust With a Laugh—you all remind me daily to keep smiling. Thank you to Mary, Jodi and Scott for letting me into your lives. Here’s to many more years of flounder paddles.

Prologue

Trevor

Her scent. I was following her scent. We had agreed it needed to be a one-time thing. We had agreed there was too much going on. It wasn’t about us. It couldn’t be.

I was the Beta of the Paulson Pack. Everyone called me Doc because I took care of people. I didn’t want to be Doc right then. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to pound against her. I wanted to bend her over. I wanted to make her scream.

But we’d had to be quiet. I’d had to keep my howls reined in as she clawed through my shirt and dug her nails into my skin. I rolled my shoulders. They were still tight from healing and the fabric rubbed rough against my flesh.

We’d separated, knowing we had to keep some space. It wasn’t the time, but I wanted her to tear into me again. My canines lengthened. I wanted to tear into her too. I felt the mating pheromones. She was supposed to be mine.

Her scent filtered through the desire clouding my brain. She was over there, just a few more steps and I could take what I wanted.

She moaned. I knew that sound. I had heard it not ten minutes earlier when I’d plunged my cock into her. Then it wasn’t just her scent. The powerful force of my Alpha was with her.

“Shelly, keep quiet. We’re too close to the bed and breakfast.” More moans. “Fuck. I don’t care. Don’t stop.”

“I need this. I won’t stop if you won’t.” Shelly’s voice. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

The wet slap of flesh filled the forest. Everything went brighter. I felt her passion feed his through our Pack connection. Richard Paulson was a strong Alpha for our Pack, but he used that strength to keep himself separated from us. No one in the Pack could feel his emotions.

Fuck, I could feel them now. Sex broke down his walls. Sure, he was breaking them down by sinking his cock into the very same sweet pussy I was hunting, but I wasn’t angry. I looked around the tree blocking my view, and saw them.

Nope, that was not anger that had my cock hard. I wanted in there. They were amazing together. Shelly’s head came forward and she bit Rick’s shoulder. He thrust into her harder and the sounds they made together had my hand closing around my own cock.

Public fornication wasn’t all that uncommon in Pack life, but my Alpha held onto so much of his humanity that being with a woman was a private thing for him. So I stayed back.

“Yes. Harder. Yes. Fuck. Right there.” Shelly’s demands increased in tempo. The heat between them bled through the clearing and my hand rocketed against my dick, trying in vain to relive how it felt sinking inside Shelly’s sweet pussy.

The sounds, the lust heavy in the air, and my hand squeezing harder and harder rode me so high that when the chorale of orgasms overrode the blood rushing through my ears, I came with them.

I wiped my hand on the ferns behind me and put myself back in my pants. Shelly and Rick were awfully quiet. I wondered why, until I looked up.

They were watching me.

Walking back toward the bed and breakfast wasn’t what I wanted to do, but both Richard and Shelly were leaving the woods. If I wanted to continue the conversation, I was forced to follow.

“This can’t happen again.” Rick reminded us of the promise he’d insisted we agree upon.

I rolled my eyes. “I get it, Alpha. Until our Pack and Family aren’t trying to kill each other, it needs to be hands off. I’m not a slave to my wolf’s desires.”

“He means this can’t happen again
ever
, Doc.” Shelly had called me
Trevor
when she was moaning my name. Hearing my nickname pushed what happened between us even further away.

“What I mean is that sex isn’t worth destroying what we worked for, and when we head back home after we deal with the situation here, we shouldn’t go near each other.”

I whipped my head toward my Pack leader. I was hoping to see his eyebrows bouncing up and down, meaning he was struggling with what he was saying. But his face was a canvas of stoic steady lines, and showed me he meant every word.

My wolf pushed against me and fought. We needed to go after Shelly. My teeth lengthened and the world’s color palate muted, letting me know my eyes had gone gold too.

“Stand down.” Power rang in Rick’s voice, and he did something he rarely attempted with me. He used his status as Alpha to push my wolf back.

For a moment, my wolf wanted to challenge him and take over the Pack. Then I could claim Shelly as my own. My wolf wanted her again. He wanted her now. A split second more and I might have gone along with it.

But then I saw a small twig tangled in Shelly’s hair. I remembered how beautiful she looked in the arms of my leader, of the strong wolf I sired, of my friend. I couldn’t live without Rick, and I damn sure couldn’t kill him.

So I helped Rick tame my wolf rather than let the beast loose. I pulled the twig out of Shelly’s hair. Rick smoothed down the strands.

It would have to wait. But unlike Alpha and Shelly, I knew this wasn’t over.

Chapter One

Eight months later

Shelly

Bitch is the new black. Damn, I wear it well.

I wasn’t always a bitch. It’s something I’ve grown into. After you’ve seen the disgusting treatment of your gender during the better part of the last millennium, you get a bit of a chip on your shoulder. I’ve learned to rock it.

I’ve gone by many names during my existence, but I am finally back at where I started. I was born into this world as Michelle Meyers and if things continued their grand descent into the shitter, there was a good chance I’d leave it with the same name.

“Shelly!” My nickname was belted from a good dozen feet or more behind me.

Walking around a college campus alone as a woman wasn’t always safe. As a vampire, I had no reason to fear. Even though technically adults, these people were children to me on so many levels.

Why did I pretend to be a teacher’s assistant? Why? These idiot humans could open a book on occasion instead of coming to me with asinine questions. While I normally put up with it the best I could, this child wasn’t looking for interaction of the studious kind.

I heard the blood rushing to his groin as he approached. Men of this century couldn’t control their lust any better than their predecessors.

I turned before he could reach me and smiled. He flailed to stop in time to avoid knocking us both down.

I had to talk to these infants, but I didn’t have to be nice. “I am on my way to…well…not here. Send me an email.”

“Shelly, I just need to know when your office hours are.”

Persistent little flea. “I have office hours listed on the syllabus, on my school web page, and on my voicemail. I bet you can figure them out.”

There were times when being a vampire had its advantages. Then there were times like these, when I had to fight the instinct to take a bite out of someone and drain them dry, just to shut them up. I kept walking. He kept following.

The seasons were changing. Summer was over. The leaves had turned and dropped. Indiana was heading into the ugly part of fall, just before winter snuck up and smacked us in the face with a foot of snow. Naked trees lined the roads. Huddled smokers crouched around their cancer sticks in front of the classroom buildings, and the campus cops didn’t even bother getting out of their cars to scope the hot chicks.

“Okay. I am doing this all wrong.” The nimble little bugger ran in front of me and stood there. I could have knocked him out of the way with a simple flick of my finger. I was about to compel him to leave, but I was too busy staring at the grubby human hand that was placed on my crisp white tee. This was Dolche and Gabana. He noticed me staring at his hand and removed it.
Good call, buddy.

“Shelly, I was wondering if I could buy you dinner. There’s a great place just off campus. Fantastic lasagna. On me. I know TAs get worked really hard right before semester end.” He flashed a smile that I was sure got him plenty of action. A dimple pierced each cheek and he tilted his head to look down at me, making sure I got full view.

Did you know dimples are actually a skin defect? There is a lack of muscle under the surface of the skin and it causes an indentation. Mutant Cheek Man kept talking. I had zoned out a bit. Humans talk a lot. Sometimes I forget to pay attention and the words echo past me like a faint buzz. When you are growing up and aren’t able to tune it out, it’s hard. I heard a lot of horrible things men said about women.

I wasn’t tall or imposing. I was born a vampire, but my height genes never kicked in. I was all of five-five, but only when wearing three inch heels. Add in the thin frame and blonde hair, and it was a recipe for men to think they were bigger, badder and smarter than me. When women’s lib became en vogue I rejoiced, and I’ve been telling the male members of society what I think of them ever since. I had a lot of time to make up for.

I had no problem turning down his invitation. “I don’t eat. So no, I am not interested in going to a restaurant.”

He just smiled. Poor sap thought I was joking. “That’s funny. But if a dinner date is too much to start with, I completely understand. Come have a drink with me then? Come on. My treat.”

The Matheo’s words—the ones I had heard since moving back to this town—echoed through my brain.
“You need to remember your role. You must blend. If you accept no male companionship, you must take on a female. Your presence in the school society is necessary.”

The Matheo was the patriarch of our vampire Family. He was my maker, the one who laid the seed in my birth mother, wherever the hell she was. He was my father, if we were looking for a human analog. I had learned my place in the Family, and it had always been to fight the authority. I took an intense pleasure causing trouble for others. Much to the displeasure of the group. That’s simply what happens when a strong intelligent female is told to keep quiet and blend. I was bored.

Then my brother was born. Jake sparked something in me. Something I hadn’t felt before. Hundreds of years walking this planet, and I never felt attached. Jake was warm, he was small and he needed me. For the first time, I wanted to give something other than a beating or a harsh word. He was my brother by my father’s seed, but it was more than that. There was something compelling about him. I felt protective. I helped him blend, but I also encouraged that streak in him that was different. There was something in him that could create change.

I’d spent so long blending, being safe, and I nurtured that part of him that would help destroy it all. Jake was a hybrid. He was a mix of vampire and werewolf. He was something I was always taught shouldn’t exist. Despite his wolf not having a hold on his body, he changed everything.

If this little baby could be welcomed into my father’s Family, if he could make the rules bend, then maybe I was wrong not to question those same rules. That tiny bundle of cells made me realize my strength and power was not something I had to defer to someone else. I might not change the world I lived in without consequences, but for the first time, I’d realized things could change.

After his mother was killed, and I took over primary care of my brother, I grew just as much as he did, and I came to understand I had more power than I thought I was allowed.

Funny how the man who was responsible for my creation didn’t inspire the same feelings.

Speaking of feelings, this human was still talking to me. I nodded and took a swig from my little black water bottle. As you can imagine, it wasn’t filled with water. I have an exceptionally high need for blood. I must have a high metabolism. When irritated, I tended to burn through my reserves faster. As the human attempted to grab my arm and walk with me, I took another sip from my bottle to keep from focusing on the blood pulsing through his body.

I wasn’t interested in him. The maturity of men seemed to be on a heavy downfall. I mostly took the company of women before we’d settled here, but I wasn’t in the mood to please a woman today. Women took significantly more effort.

At least by taking this boy’s company, I could include myself in the social scene, and worry only about his sexual appetite and not the emotional baggage. I had enough of my own. I just kept mine buried beneath heavy walls. It would take more than a stake to penetrate that.

My arm slid free from his easily. I cocked my head at him. “You will pick me up at ten tonight. We can go for a drink. You buy, I’ll drive.”

“Don’t be silly. If I’m taking you out, I am more than happy to spring for a cab. That way we can both have fun.”

Frat boy speak for, “I hope you get drunk enough to let me penetrate you.”

“Sounds fine.” I relented, but didn’t bother altering my tone. This guy obviously got off on the chase. “Don’t expect this to affect your grade. You’re still failing.”

“I dropped the class this morning, Shelly. You were the reason I couldn’t concentrate.” His eyes roamed up and down my body. A white tee was obviously the latest in look-at-me fashion. “I’d love to take a bite out of you.”

For the first time in nearly a week, my smile wasn’t forced when I replied, “Ironic. I was just thinking the same thing.”

I left the horny young man with my address and declined his offer of a ride home. I needed time to build up my walls before I stepped foot inside the building currently housing my Family. It was one of the premier mansions in the state, but not even twenty thousand square feet was too grandiose for the Meyers Family. We had an image to keep. In the past year I’d learned what that outward appearance hid.

My father wasn’t just the Matheo, he was also the leader of a black market for witch blood. He harvested young women under my nose and I was one of the main reasons he’d lost his best supplier. You would think that would have my head rolling down the street as he danced and pulled apart my body limb by limb. So far all he’d done was put me in charge of blood supply. He knew I’d killed people important to him. He had a source.

I had one too. One of the witches I helped save told me the Matheo had been informed of my actions. She saw that he had a wolf around him. She saw that he was still draining witches for their blood.

Damned if I could see where. That bugged me more than anything. It had to be close, because the Matheo rarely left the house anymore, and when he went on his walks, he was never gone for more than an hour. He was on top of my every move now.

I answered three text messages and one phone call from him on my lunch break today. I am an excellent liar, especially with my role. Being a Protector for a Vampire Family has nothing to do with physical strength—although because of my age, I am exceptionally strong. The Protector’s power is all about your brain and the miasma that takes root there.

The miasma is a magical essence that carries the entire history known to the vampire it possessed before.
Every
vampire it possessed before. There had been a lot of vampires, and this goo was chock full of everything you never wanted to know. Because it gave the Protector photographic memory, not all of that information is worth knowing.

I knew far too much about everything. This thing was like an infinite memory card attached to the inside of my skull. With all I had seen, sometimes I wished my memories could fade like everyone else’s.

Then a flash of stolen kisses and hands grabbing desperately in the dark jumped to the forefront of my brain.
Dammit.
This was not the time, although that specific memory might help my libido and make my date tolerable.

I felt the miasma release a bit of its hold on my immediate thoughts. My walls snapped into place and my body relaxed just as I reached the mansion and stepped over the threshold. I let the door slam. Everyone in this building had heightened senses. Not to the extent of the werewolves, who lived just a two minute run away from my home, but my presence would not go unnoticed.

I made sure my feet fell heavy. I wasn’t a big girl, and making excessive noise wasn’t always easy. I was wearing black sandals and let the soles slap the bottoms of my feet as I made my way to the mudroom and our refrigeration unit.

We needed another donor. Our supply was getting low. I checked my mental inventory and the numbers didn’t match up with the sign-out log. Someone was taking more than their share. I wasn’t sure who. They were taking the very blood I would never touch again. Witch blood. We kept a virtual blood bank in our Family home. There was every blood type known to man, and a few special vintages as well.

The Matheo had access to a large amount of witch blood, and even though I know I shouldn’t feel pleasure at disobeying my superior, the witch supply wasn’t as plentiful as it had been because of me. I’d rescued over a dozen women from the fate of being walking blood bags for my father. Girl power won over vampire instinct for me when I’d killed their captors.

I sobered as I remembered there was still at least one more I had to save. I quieted my body functions. I stopped my heart, didn’t bother breathing, and paused every molecule inside myself. Nothing. Yet another day I had to go about my business and hope the guards the Matheo had over his slaves would slip up later.

Going back to the blood, I shook a few bags as I checked rotation and freshness dates. Refrigeration seems to dampen the blood’s natural rhythm, but even through a plastic bag, it had a hell of a kick. Vampires like myself can never imbibe enough alcohol to become drunk, but give a vamp enough blood from a donor who is high as a kite and you might have a valid comparison.

I would have gone and checked my computer for more detailed information, but I didn’t really need the manmade technology anymore. Once again, my miasma had me covered.

When my dear brother Jake decided to embrace his hybrid heritage and defect to begin his own Pack, the joy of this brain goo became mine. On one hand, I was glad it saved our Family from having to remove the miasma from his head with something sharp and fatal. On the other hand, his defecting left the miasma free to find a new host. Me.

My head was way too crowded now. I pulled the one piece of technology I
did
need from my pocket. The cell phone clicked on with a swipe across the screen.

Despite popular fantasy, there is no telepathy between vampires. We could sense our kind and had a stronger pull to those we’d made or been born of, but that’s it. Conveying specific information about red blood cell inventory was not an option without my phone.

Missing blood is starting to be a problem.

I got an almost immediate response. Vampires had enhanced speed. It made us wicked fast texters.

I am sure it was a simple sign out error on the part of someone in the Family. Just procure another donor.

I thought of suggesting the fingerprint scanner and tally machine for withdrawals again, but my father had seemed truly against it when I’d mentioned it before. My miasma helpfully played back the scene in vivid color. This stuff was helpful at times, but ungodly redundant at others. Whenever new information of
any
kind presented itself, I felt a jolt to the head. Thankfully, I was working with a very old knowledge. I didn’t get jolted very often anymore.