Captiva Capitulation (20 page)

Still.

Rock tossed his helmet, his neck immediately arcing. From his back, she could feel his chest rumble with a warning growl. Then Blythe saw it, a deep shadow ahead on broken palms. Not
on
broken palms, she soon realized. It wasn’t stationary, but moving fast, headed straight for them. Another gargantuan shape glided above them, blocking the moonlight, casting the swamp into deeper shadows, rendering it impossible for her to distinguish one thing from the other.

“Lovci?” She asked, “Are they Lovci?” But Rock’s helmet was off, and even if he could still hear her, he wasn’t answering. She threw hers to the ground, as well. A keening call whistled through the trees, four wings turning toward them as they ventured on a path deeper into the swamp.

Blythe couldn’t believe how big they were, how imposing. If hunters were the reason myths circulated regarding vampires turning into bats, considering a hunter’s size, something was lost in the translation. Their wingspans had to reach twelve feet or more. How could anyone mistake them with a small, flying mammal? Though their wings were dark, black against the night sky, they weren’t pointy tipped, but graceful as she imagined an angel’s would be.

Beautiful.

Safe.

Yes, I will fly with you.

When one swooped down, diving determinedly above her head, Blythe smiled up at it, releasing her arms from Rock’s waist. “No!” She heard Rock cry out, as its counterpart spiraled down, whooshing next to the first one, closing in on them. Its hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her up. “I know you,” Blythe said, curling her body around him, relaxing against his strength. Below, something vaguely familiar touched her ears, calling to her: three breaths in, one breath out.

A ripple formed around Blythe, blue lightning edging her vision, snapping her to the present. Glancing down, she found herself off the bike and high in the air. Rock was also off the bike and had one hand on her ankle plus one on the tip of the hunter’s wing, his werewolf in full mojo, pulling them down with the second Lovec tearing at his back. Rock’s hold was slipping by the second and when this bastard took off with her, it would be too late. Why was she holding this monster like a lover, trusting him and not her mate? Then the obvious hit her. The Lovec had lulled her, coercing Blythe to do his will, to go away with him. And Rock had snapped her out of it with his magic while fighting off
two
hunters.

This wasn’t happening.

Fat fucking chance I’m going with you!
Then she thrust her full breasts high on his chest, licking her lips with a dreamy-eyed smile, visually melting for him. For a split-second, he glanced at her, and that’s all she needed.

“Ow!” he screeched, burning her ears with his rage.

He nearly dropped her, pressing his newly bleeding eye with the heel of his hand, his other still gripping her torso. Blythe hoped that she punched it all the way inside his skull. “Have fun recovering from that, vampire!” With his attention diverted, she managed to slam her thumb through the second one, ignoring the goopy, popping sensation as she burrowed through the cavity. In the process, she heard her thumb snap, felt it fracture, but it was the sweetest pain she’d ever known. And although he didn’t release her, his weakening hold loosened even more, so she smashed her elbow into the front of his throat, stunning his windpipe. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she was formidable against any vampire, and Blythe didn’t expect to close off his air with the blow. But she’d be damned if she was going with him.

“Bitch!” he cried out.

“Maybe I am,” she snarled, tearing herself from his flagging arms. She’d rather fall to her death than leave with him. “But I’m not
your
bitch, and you can’t have me!”

Up in the sky, another winged creature took shape. This one was
not
a hunter. This one was beyond frightening, beyond her imaginings. It plummeted toward them, screaming as it hurtled in astonishing speed. The Lovec flung her to the ground, her arms reaching out and finding nothing to grip. In fluid haste, an imposing Vojak raced beneath her, catching Blythe before she slammed to the earth. “Kash?” she gasped, immediately scrambling to get away from his unrelenting arms. “Please, I need to help Rock!”

“You helped him when you broke free of the Lovec,” he countered, barely struggling with her though she was fighting with all her might to reach her male. Kash gripped her wrists together in a gentle, yet impregnable hold. “I can’t believe you have that dick’s flesh and blood on your hands.” He pulled her in tight, running his tongue up the side of her throat. “You’re too precious to touch a hunter’s blood,” he spoke against her skin.

She knew this game. “And you’re not misting me away from Rock!” Blythe dropped down low in a protestor’s stance, but Kash held her wrists. She swung stupidly as though she was a temperamental child and he was an unfortunate parent stuck hauling her from the toy store.

“Blythe, Sixten’s on one,” he explained tolerantly.

“No way! Sixten is that other winged…
thing
?” she asked in astonishment.

“Yeah, that’s Six. Rock’s on the other, and they have this, Blythe. If they needed help, I would know. They’re playing, wanting to terrorize the ones who were stupid enough to terrorize their beloved mate. Then they’ll haul them in.”

Blythe couldn’t take her eyes off the
thing
that was her Sixten, her husband. Times like these, she feared him more than she feared her adversaries. But that fear didn’t stand a chance against her unconditional love. Blythe’s eyes next slid to Rock. “If anything happens to them….” There weren’t any words that came to mind apart from one. Broken. Somehow she would go on, but she would be broken.

Right then, Rock lost hold of his Lovec. And the winged-one jumped off the ground in an inky blur. He started to fly, twisting to the side, before landing right back behind Rock. He slammed his elbow in the back of her werewolf’s head, and as he did, the dagger Rock had been holding flew out of his grasp.

Above, Sixten swooped down and caught it in midair, his teeth white against his transformed, reptilian face. He laughed evilly, slashing out with the blade, slicing it across the Lovec’s throat. Blood welled across the wound, but not enough to suggest Sixten had done any really damage.

“He
is
playing,” groaned Blythe, her stomach nauseated over the risks Sixten took.

Sixten dropped the dagger back down. As if they were in accord, Rock caught it in his hand, burying it under his Lovec’s ribcage. The winged creature still managed to gain momentum, becoming airborne. However, Rock swung himself up on a high branch and gripped the Lovec’s retreating wing with both sets of claws. “You attacked my mate on Pack turf,” he said with death’s growl. His Beast bared its thick canines. “It’s over for you.” Rock spun out, kneeing the hunter in the chest, knocking him backwards, both then falling a good twenty feet or more. They dropped on the ground hard, hard enough that Blythe would have lost her footing from the resulting vibration if Kash hadn’t kept ahold of her.

Sixten landed next to them, he had already reformed into his handsome self, leaving his former scaly winged formation behind. He straddled his Lovec. One hand encircled the hunter’s throat, the other pushing though his shirt, reaching inside his chest cavity to squeeze his heart.

“I love collecting hearts,” Sixten breathed silkily. On his face, he wore the perfect picture of insanity. The Lovec stopped thrashing, instead gasping as Sixten wrapped his unrelenting fingers around the still beating heart. “Who authorized this evening’s hunt, gentlemen? No requests for clearance were filed with the Vojaks.  
I would know
.” He was using an everyday tone, and Blythe found the ease of his voice gruesomely terrifying when combined with his lethal stance.

“Someone better talk,” roared Rock, his patience was lost, but his sanity was clearly with him. He backhanded the Lovec across the face and it spewed out  blood. Rock’s head whipped to the side, his werewolf’s glowing eyes instantly fixed on Blythe. “Get her out of here! This is going to get nasty, fast.”

A sharp pain needled Blythe’s throat before she disintegrated into the salty, island air.

His eyes followed every line of vision she took. For her benefit, since her husband could see better in darkness, Kash noticed that Sixten had placed nightlights just about everywhere. Many plugged in at ten-foot intervals, illuminating the home in a glow resembling warm candlelight. He found the ambience gifted by the tiny lights welcoming. In fact, he found this particular ambience
past
welcoming. Erotically distracting was more like it, when coupled with the company he currently kept. However, by the scent of her adrenalin, Blythe didn’t feel the same way.

At all.

“How would they keep out an immortal anyway?” She asked, glowering at the secured shutters. To his dismay, she put the room’s length between them. “Tell me, Kash.” Waving a bloody hand towards a set of French doors, she walked on, moving into the main hallway, which led to the front foyer. “What difference would those make to an immortal?”

None, if they were normal, everyday hurricane shutters. But obviously, Sixten had had them constructed from alien ore, probably consigned their design when he first arrived back in America, since the undertaking of a such a project would be lengthy at best. No doubt, Sixten had dropped millions. Kash would have done the same, and he certainly could afford to do so. “Immortals aren’t the only baddies out there, Blythe.” Slowly, he followed her. Along the way, Kash tossed his coat on a squat bench, though he was still armed by blades stashed carefully inside his boots. “Humans steal, kill, torture, capture…you want me to go on?”

“No.”

“Well, then,” he continued, moving through the corridor behind her. “We can change the subject, unless you want to talk about what just happened.”

“You’re sure they’re going to be all right?”

“Yeah, I am,” he answered simply, leading her into a small powder room beneath the stairs and turning on the dainty faucet by his will. Inside, it was a tight squeeze, but he didn’t mind the feel of her body against his
at all
. “Let’s wash off this blood.”

“Does it make you hungry?” she asked distractedly.

No, but she did. “Hungry in a way you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try to explain,” she requested, and he noticed that she wouldn’t look into the mirror.

“Hungry to sate my body, no, but the blood makes me hungry for the kill.” To her credit, she didn’t haul ass. “Blythe, I would kill
anything
that touched you the wrong way, looked at you the wrong way.” Gently, thoroughly, he washed her hands, sliding his fingers between hers. “However, Sixten and Rock had points to make, points
mated males
make.” Bringing her hands to the light, he inspected them with his Species vision. Kash didn’t want a speck of the Lovec’s blood marring her delicate skin. “All clean, sweetheart, but that thumb’s broken.”

“This time, I don’t mind the pain,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Ah, maybe all that blood made
you
hungry.” His dick was rock hard now, throbbing balls jerking underneath.

She inched around him, leaving their tight confines, and he fought not to crush her to his chest. “Kash, I’d rather die than to be a victim again.”

“I get that, but I cannot have you going around with broken bones. It’s unnecessary and ridiculous when I have an instantaneous cure.” He wondered when they’d get beyond this barrier, the one insisting they were merely friends. “It’ll only take a swallow, if that’s what your concern is.” Slicing his index finger open with a fang, he brought the offering to her lips.

“I wasn’t con -”

“Take.” Thrusting it into her open mouth, his hips moved when her tongue swirled around the tip, her pressure perfection, and her suckling incredible. “That’ll do it,” he said hoarsely, fighting with himself to pull away, although she stopped immediately. Though she could drink of him the entire night, he refused to bond until he mated her. Kash loved her, and he would never allow Blythe to mistake that love for a simple bond, such as what she had with the Marchii. Blythe muttered her thanks, flushed beautifully, and slipped through the hallway. He gave her no more than three minutes before he followed.

Standing in the grand foyer with her back turned to him, he found Blythe staring at the front door as if Rock and Sixten were going to bolt through at any second. From a small gap between the window and its corresponding shutter, a single thread of moonlight brushed her high cheekbones while she chewed her bottom lip. An endearing habit that he also found maddening, since it made him think of nothing else besides sliding his cock in and out of her warm mouth. His hand lifted on its own accord, though she couldn’t see it. Kash longed to fist her inky strands, bringing her body flush against his.

“Listen, sweetheart, Rock and Six wouldn’t kill Lovci, call it a day, and then come home to you. No. Werewolves and shifters don’t play it that way.” Neither did vampires, but she wasn’t asking. “And since they know I would never leave you unprotected” -
Because I’ve always been here, protecting you while staying in the shadows of your life -
“they’ll square everything away first. It’s complicated. We have to assume they were rogues. The Dynasty didn’t file reports with us, the Vojaks, requesting Lovci clearance. On top of that, legitimate hunters don’t take a female that way, in the open, fighting her
werewolf
mate on Pack turf. It’s not done.”

Her arms came up, wrapping herself in a one-way hug. “They don’t?”

“Not those with honor.”