Killer Secrets (10 page)

When you were stuck between death and hell, sometimes, you had to turn to big, bad wolf for help.

The door to the small storeroom closed with a soft click behind Morgan LaBeaux, and she tried real hard not to tense her shoulders.

Alone. With him.  The werewolf’s footsteps padded around the room, and she knew he was circling her, looking her over.

She kept her chin up and knew that he’d smell her fear.  Dammit, she hated being afraid.  But the idea of bonding with this male and staying with him for the rest of her very long life—
hello, fear.

Morgan didn’t fear many things, but every vamp in lower Florida knew it was smart to step cautiously around Jace Vaughn. He hadn’t earned the alpha title by playing nicely.

No, he’d earned it by cutting a bloody path through his rivals and leaving their savaged bodies in his wake.

And I get to marry him?

Some days, a bride was just lucky.

“I didn’t think the vamps were going to accept my deal.”

His voice sounded more like a beast’s than a man’s. Deep. Rumbling.  He propped against the wall in front of her and crossed his powerful arms over his chest. His eyes, so dark they almost looked black, swept over her once more.  “A real fucking princess,” he muttered as he shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

Probably.  They all would be. That’s why they were
monsters.
 
Though she really hadn’t been given much choice since she’d been one of the few vamps actually born to the blood’s call. 

She cleared her throat. “At first, the council didn’t plan to accept your…ah…offer.”  The vampire council—the strongest vamps in the area—hadn’t exactly been keen on Jace’s plan. But then the game had changed when their guards started showing up dead, courtesy of the demon bastards who’d come to town.

Once upon a time, the supernaturals had all lurked in the shadows, content to exist only in the nightmares of humans.  Why take the spotlight?  Death and persecution would only follow. The witch trials had taught them all that. 

Vampires had never sought attention, still didn’t.

Wolves, yes, they got a little wild and some rumors had been known to circulate about them, but they’d kept fairly quiet over the centuries, too.

But the demons—those assholes who were escaping hell in increasing numbers—they weren’t in the mood for quiet. They’d amassed in Miami and were planning one deadly coming out party. But first, they wanted to prove they were the biggest, toughest prey in the night.

So they were eliminating their supernatural competition. 

A war was coming. No, it had already started. Vampires versus demons. Demons versus wolves.

The enemy of my enemy…

Is my husband. 

Or her prey. The council hadn’t decided which yet.  Neither had she.

“The demons want to wipe us out,” she said.  “You want them stopped as much as we do.” He still hadn’t moved. Just stood there with his arms crossed. But at least there was no sign of his claws, not anymore. “You were right. The best way for us to end this battle is to team up.”

He smiled, a half-smile that didn’t lighten his face. It just made him look all the more dangerous.

The guy exuded danger like no one she’d ever seen.  Darkly tan, golden skin covered a body hard with muscles. Jace Vaughn towered over her, easily passing six-foot-three or six-foot- four. He wasn’t handsome, no, he was too savage for that.  His long, dark mane of hair brushed his shoulders. He had hard, tense features.

Not handsome. But…sexy.  Dammit,
sexy.

Wolves and their animal appeal. She hadn’t thought that appeal would work on her. She’d been wrong.  

“Wolves are holding their own…” Now his arms dropped as he stepped toward her.

“So far,” she whispered.  That would change soon enough. Once the demons started concentrating their full strength on them. “You know we have to find the doorway that’s letting these demons out of hell and close it. If we don’t, they’ll take over.”

And their coming out party to the humans would be a nightmare.

His eyes held hers.  When he took another step toward her, Morgan held her ground. She had an image to maintain.
A vampire can’t tremble before a werewolf.
But the slight flare of his nostrils told her that the wolf was drinking in her scent, and no doubt picking up on her fear.

Great.

When his hand lifted toward her, she stilled. 

“Easy, princess,” he murmured, “it’s just a touch.”

Right.  And if they were going through with this bargain, he’d be doing a whole lot more touching.

What’s one life versus the fate of your people?
That had been the council’s big selling speech to her. Sacrifice yourself. Save everyone else.

Go be food for the big, bad wolf…because he can save our asses.

“My name’s Morgan,” her voice came out huskier than she’d intended, but his hand was on her cheek, smoothing over the flesh, and she wanted to shiver.
Don’t.
She couldn’t show that weakness. His hands were hard, but his touch felt whisper-soft.  “Morgan LaBeaux.” There was pride in the words because she was named after the first pureblood vampire ever to be born, Morganna La Fey. 

The first, but not the last. 

Morgan caught the faint widening of his eyes as his gaze swept her face. “I can’t believe…they’d really trade…you?”

She swallowed. In the end, it wasn’t about the council. It wasn’t their lives that would be offered. “It’s my call.”  His hand slipped down her throat and his fingers pressed lightly over the pulse that raced beneath his touch.

Yes, her heart still beat.  She breathed. She wasn’t dead, despite what humans thought. Purebloods were
born
as vampires. They simply stopped aging around their twenty-fifth year. Stopped aging—and developed a lust for blood.

The others…those who’d been brought over by the bite, well, they
did
die, but only for a few moments. They came back, stronger than before, and their hearts beat again when they took their first breath of air as a vampire.

“So you’re willingly offering yourself to me?” The wolf asked, voice darker than before.  

The weight of his hand felt too heavy against her throat. Wolves were always so big,
too
big. In a second’s time, their claws could emerge, and they could rip apart their enemies.

And when they went into a full shift…

We need their strength.
“Once you help us to defeat the demons, I’ll marry you.”  The wolves and vampires would be irrevocably bound.

Forever.

Any supernatural that wanted a piece of them would find an alliance that was unbreakable. Unbeatable.

But Jace laughed. The sound was sinister and strangely sexy.  This time, Morgan couldn’t stop her shiver, and she knew he felt it. 

“Doesn’t work that way.”  His head leaned toward her and his lips hovered over hers.  “You want the demons taken out, then you give me what I want first.”

What he wanted…

“Marry me, bond with me, and you’ll have your own personal guard who’ll tear apart anyone who comes near you.”

She licked her lips and saw his body tense. “It’s…ah, not just about me.” She wasn’t doing this to save her own skin. “It’s about all the vampires in my nest.  They all need protection. Your pack has to give to all—”

“
You
are my concern.” He shrugged. “But if they matter to you, then they can have pack protection.  We’ll take out the demons and leave a bloody trail to warn all others never to fuck with us again.”

Yes, he was good at that kind of trail.

Over the years, the vampires had become, well, some said
too
civilized. They’d taken to drinking blood from handy little plastic bags. They married humans. They blended almost perfectly with society.

Because so many of them
wanted
to be human. 

Morgan had wanted that, too. Then she saw how easily the humans died.

Now she wanted to be strong. A fighter. 

But first she had to be a pawn.

The vampires were falling too quickly to the demon horde. The wolves—they were lasting longer. 
Because they’re stronger now.
 
If they were going to stop hell, then the vampires needed the wolves at their sides.

“Marry me…” Jace’s whisper. 

She knew she’d do anything, but before she could speak, a  hard
thud
shook the wall.  Morgan jerked.  “What is—”

He wrapped his hands around her shoulders and lifted her up so that she had to stare straight into her eyes. “Demons followed you here tonight.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, that’s not possible, I was careful, I—”

“Now my pack is tearing them apart.”

If only. But, sadly, she’d discovered that it wasn’t simple to kill a demon. You had to sever its head, and cleaving through demon flesh wasn’t exactly an easy task. While a demon’s flesh
looked
like a human’s, it was harder to penetrate than any armor she’d ever seen.

“Do I have your agreement? You will marry me right away?”

Why did she like the rumble of his voice so much?  Morgan nodded.

Another thud shook the wall, and she was pretty sure she heard a scream.

Or two.

“Good.” A growl. Then the wolf did something she hadn’t expected. His mouth took hers.

Her lips had parted in surprise, and his tongue thrust inside her mouth.

He didn’t taste like a vampire or a like a human. She had experience with those types of men. But Jace…

He tasted wild. Hot. 

And she liked it.

Her arms curled around his neck as she pulled him closer.

A growl worked in his throat when she sucked his tongue. Oh, yes, she liked that.

Vampires had the wrong image. Cold, stiff. Unfeeling. She’d never been like that. She’d always wanted. Needed.

Maybe he can give me what I want.

Her nipples were hard, stabbing against his chest, and her sex began to moisten.  Wolves weren’t easy lovers, or so the stories said. No quick tumble in the darkness for them.

Instead, sex that lasted for hours. 

Hours.

The councilman’s face had been sad when he’d said, “
We hate for you to make this sacrifice…”

It didn’t feel like much of a sacrifice to her.

Just felt like white-hot lust. 

Her fangs started to lengthen. 
What will his blood taste like?

She couldn’t wait to find out.

His hands were on her ass now, holding her up and against the hard bulge of his arousal. No missing that fierce length of flesh.  The wolf was big all over.

Yes.

Very slowly, and only after he tasted her once more, Jace lifted his head and lowered her to the ground. “Didn’t expect that.”

She could still taste him.

“Guess vampires can feel more than hate for the wolves.”

Morgan pulled in a deep breath. “And I guess wolves can lust for the bloodsuckers they claim to despise.”

He stared down at her, and she realized she didn’t hear any muffled voices from the bar any longer. No more thuds. No screams.

His hand took hers and his palm felt red-hot against the mark on her flesh.

Wolves were so hot, when she’d known only the cold for so long.

“Come.”

Do it. Go. Don’t back down now.
Just because she’d tasted the wolf and realized that controlling him might not be as easy as she’d planned, well, that didn’t mean she could run away.

Not yet. Not if the wolves could really kill the demons for them.

He opened the door. The smell of blood hit her.  But it wasn’t the normally sweet, tempting scent that called to her kind.

Rancid. Brimstone. Hell.

Demons.
 

Their bodies lay on the floor. Their heads had been severed, and their eyes—as red as the hell they’d escaped—stared straight up at her.   Two demons down…

“How?” She breathed the word in surprise. This was so fast. The vamps had taken hours to kill demons, while the wolves had decapitated these two in mere minutes.

The wolf shifter that Jace had called Mike lifted his hand. His claws glinted. “We can slice through anything.” His gaze seemed to bore into her. “
Anything.
” The unmistakable threat was in his eyes.

That wolf would be a problem. 

She might just have to kill him soon. 

Jace caught her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

But the killing would have to wait. Because, ah, first, she’d have to marry her alpha wolf.