OmegaMine (25 page)

“You wonder how it would feel to be watched when I fuck you,
so that everyone could see how good I make you feel. They’d be jealous as hell,
watching us, smelling your cream, unable to do anything more than watch and
wish that they were in my place.” He brought his head down and licked a line
from her shoulder to her ear. “I want that too. I want everyone to know that
you’re mine. When all this madness is said and done I’m going to make it
happen, and you’re going to let me.”

She gasped, struggling to breathe. The need for him had only
gotten worse, and after their discussion this morning she knew it wouldn’t
relent until he gave her the final bloodbonding mark. For once, her ability was
a huge attribute because it allowed her to fully comprehend and understand
exactly what Diskant was offering as he explained the process.

The first two marks were physical—when she accepted his seed
and his blood—but the third went much deeper. It was that final, mystical mark
that would bring all of his shifter beasts into her keeping, rending them in
half only to bring them back together so that a portion resided in her just as
it did in him. She should have been terrified by the notion but yearned for it
in a way that made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

After squeezing her sex, he slid his hand to her stomach and
pressed against her back, allowing her to feel the hard outline of his cock.
“I’m as eager as you are, Pinkie.”

“I hate to break this up but we’ve got to get moving.”
Kinsley’s deep voice was teasing but the underlying seriousness was apparent.

Diskant exhaled against her neck before spinning her stool
around. She peered up at him—dizzy, lightheaded and aroused. The shadow on his
face was thick now, nearly obscuring the skin beneath. He’d pulled his hair
back at the nape with a leather tie, so she could fully appreciate his facial
features—strong jaw, smooth nose, full lips.

Cupping her face in gentle hands, he instructed, “Stay
upstairs until I get back. I want you to lock yourself inside and wait for me.
I’ve told Nathan to remain outside your door until we return.”

His kiss was as combustive as his touch. He didn’t brush his
lips against hers, he demanded entry. His tongue delved, explored, ravished and
tasted. Drawing her in until she was clinging to his tight black T-shirt, her
hands forming fists in the thin cotton. When he lifted his head they were both
breathing heavy, a mixture of desire, worry and uncertainty flowing between
them.

The increasingly strong mental connection allowed them to
experience what the other was feeling, so she was aware that as scared as she
was for him, he was equally torn about leaving her. She could feel it in him,
could sense how it tested his control.

He wanted to be nearby in case she needed him and resented
the responsibility that took him from her side since her emotions were
unstable. Without his nearness, he worried she would be on edge, unable to
think of anything but what was taking place in his absence. The thought made it
impossible for him to break away from her, and he wasn’t sure if he’d have the
power to leave her behind and see to the safety of the pack.

Although she hated to do it, she brought up the mental
barrier between them and shut him out. The moment he felt the severed
connection he frowned.

“Ava—”

“Shh.” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his
chest. “If I don’t, you won’t be able to leave.”

His arms came around her and squeezed until, slowly, he
pulled away. “Stay in the apartment. Wait for me.”

She nodded, fighting back tears, and whispered, “Hurry
back.”

Diskant turned from Ava before he pussied out and told Trey
he couldn’t go. It was too difficult to look into her face and tell her goodbye
when his instincts demanded he stay, especially when those pools of reflective
blue revealed the anguish the separation caused. Thank god she’d severed the
connection that allowed him to experience her emotions, leaving him with
nothing more than his own doubts and fears. Otherwise he’d never have been able
to leave her side.

Her tears fucking killed him.

“Let’s go,” he told Kinsley and stepped past the pack
standing at each side of the door.

Emory and Trey were just outside, waiting in front of the
black, unmarked, older-model vehicle. The strain was evident on their faces,
although Trey appeared to be more shaken.

“Don’t start any trouble. Keep your mouth shut and wait for
us,” Trey instructed Emory as he stepped away and Nathan appeared with a pair
of silver cuffs in his gloved hands. “Don’t fight them and don’t argue.”

Emory didn’t respond, the only indication he’d heard coming
in the form of a slight nod. He didn’t flinch when Nathan placed the cuffs on
him, remaining quiet and still as they were fastened to his wrists.

“Aldon has been advised of where you’re going to drop him,”
Trey told Kinsley quietly. “As soon as he knows which way they’re traveling
he’s going to contact us and plan the diversion. Keep your cell handy.”

Kinsley nodded, opened the driver’s side door and slid
inside. As soon as the motor started Nathan opened the back door for Emory, who
promptly did the same.

The moment the doors closed Diskant placed a comforting hand
on Trey’s shoulder. Even though Diskant wasn’t close to his own brother, as
their ages prevented them from forming a bond, he couldn’t imagine how
difficult it must be to place a sibling in harm’s way.

The car shifted as Kinsley put it in gear and slowly pulled
away from the curb. The pack watched silently, all of them experiencing the
turmoil, fear and anger that assailed their Alpha.

“I hope we know what we’re doing,” Trey said.

“He’ll be fine.” Diskant let go of his shoulder and stepped
back.

No one spoke as Trey walked to his motorcycle and climbed
on. He brought his hands to the handlebars but stopped short of touching them.
Lowering his arms, he rested one palm on the fuel tank and brought the other to
his chest and rubbed the surface as if something had touched him. When Diskant
stepped over Trey looked up and a strange, ominous expression shrouded his
face. He continued rubbing his chest, shaking his head.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Neither did Diskant, though he didn’t say it. “With Nathan
in charge we don’t have to worry about the bar.”

“I know that, it’s just…” Trey hesitated before he sighed
and lowered his hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

Half of the pack returned to the bar while the rest went to
their bikes. Diskant climbed on his Harley and waited until Trey had vanished
down the street before he started his own engine.

Glancing through the window to the bar, he saw Ava standing
near the hallway. Her arms were folded over her chest and her short hair was in
disarray. For a second he considered killing the engine, returning inside and
staying with her until the danger passed.

Trey was right.

All shifters were born with a sixth sense about things, and
something was definitely off.

His gaze rested on the shifters seated near the windows and
the bar. Some of them he knew personally, others he knew by association. Each
was on full alert, armed to the gills with weapons, ready to do whatever was
necessary to protect the pack.

There was no way they’d allow any harm to come to Ava.
They’d kill anyone or anything that came through the door.

Shaking off the prickly sensation at the back of his neck,
Diskant’s focus returned to his mate. She hadn’t moved. He wasn’t sure if she
picked up on his indecision with her telepathy or if she instinctively
understood that she had to turn away first but that’s what she did.

When she finally vanished from sight he took a deep breath,
pulled the kickstand up with his heel and revved the motor.

Chapter Seventeen

Two vans approached in the darkness, headlights flashing and
motors humming. Trey shifted his weight, balancing on the balls of his feet,
and remained in a crouch in the cover of the trees and foliage. Adrenaline and
the impending thrill of combat made his skin tingle and his heart accelerate.
The rest of the pack was equally agitated, struggling to remain still under the
green span of shrubbery.

Watching as Emory had been taken by Shepherds had nearly
driven him to the point of madness, so much so that he’d actually started to
shift until Diskant pulled out his Omega deck of cards. Even now, he felt that
calming portion of his pack mate easing his beast, forcing it to recede so the
man could remain in control.

“Easy,” Diskant whispered and placed steady hand on his
shoulder, the weight heavy and grounding. “It’s almost time.”

Trey nodded, unable to speak, wanting to rage against what
he couldn’t control.

Right before the vans reached the trees, Aldon would stop
the progression, giving them time to dispose of the Shepherds one by one. That
moment couldn’t arrive soon enough. He needed to see Emory, to know he was safe
and that no harm had come to him. While less than an hour had passed since
Kinsley had handed him over, a shifter could be killed in under a minute with
the proper injury.

The pack moved restlessly, as eager for blood as he was.

Stop thinking about it. Take fucking control
.

Trey took a deep breath and released it slowly. The desire
to change forms and attack was nearly impossible to deny. For the first time he
missed the mysterious caress of what he’d started referring to as his phantom,
a spirit that seemed to arrive when he needed to be comforted most. The ghostly
fingers that brushed his skin were a balm on his soul, atonement for his sins.
Real or imagined, the sensation never failed to bring a level of peace and
calm.

Where are you
? he thought and braced himself for what
had always been an answering contact, the whisper-soft brush against his skin.
Yet there was no light weight against the back of his neck, no tender pressure
against his chest over the steady thrum of his heart. His wolf seemed to mourn
the absence, as if it were a kind of loss, and the unfamiliar and unexplainable
emotions caught him off guard. Emory was in danger and his focus should have
been entirely on his brother, not the maddening touches of an entity that he
had created in his mind as a way to steel his soul against a lifetime alone.

His cell phone vibrated and he pulled it from his back
pocket. Glancing down at the screen, he read the simple text.

It’s time.

He cleared the screen with the flick of a button, slid the
phone back into his pocket and ordered, “Get ready.”

The pack shuffled around him, crouched at his sides. Their
growls, while low, carried on the wind that suddenly rose and surrounded them,
causing the branches above to stir.

“Don’t kill them all,” Diskant growled in a voice as rough
as asphalt. “We need one alive.”

Murmurs of assent were garbled by the change. Several of the
pack allowed the wolf to rise. Their claws escaped their fingers and their
teeth no longer resembled anything human.

When the vehicles were within yards of their hiding spot,
Aldon appeared in the center of the road, creating a roadblock. Diskant moved
and the pack spread outward to form an inescapable barrier, over a dozen of
them ready to show their enemy why it was wise to steer clear of their city,
their domain and one of their own. Despite Emory’s failings, the pack was his
family, his blood, and they would kill anyone who threatened him.

“No matter what happens, keep one of them breathing.” Trey
reiterated Diskant’s order, pumped for the thrill of battle but eager to secure
Emory’s safety. “Have your fun but take one alive.”

Aldon stood unmoving in his black, long, flowing trench
coat, his white-blond hair stark against the collar as the rising moon shone
down. The vans didn’t slow, coming at the lone figure in the middle of the road
at a hard seventy miles an hour or more. Unfazed, he lifted a pale hand and
brought his palm upright. The coat flared around him as his hair lifted into
the air, the blond strands and flaps of leather rippling as if electrically
charged. The heady oppressiveness of magic crossed the distance, coating the
air from his position in the middle of the isolated stretch of highway until
steady growls and snarls from of the pack breached the stillness of the night.

Trey’s fingers raked into dirt as his claws extended. As an
Alpha he had natural protection from magic. However he wasn’t entirely
unaffected by the darkness which called to his beast. Diskant’s influence
overrode the compulsion to change that came from the essence of mystical energy
lingering in the air, nullifying the madness that arose as a direct result,
creating a wave of serenity in a chaotic maelstrom.

Tires squealed as rubber skidded against concrete, creating
clouds of smoke. The vans veered from side to side—left first and then
right—until they jerked onto the shoulder of the road. Aldon brought his hand
to the side, rotating his wrist. The vehicles jerked left, returned to the
proper lane and began coasting.

“Now,” Diskant snarled.

The wolves revealed themselves as they barreled from the
dense shelter of trees, moving faster than a man but slower than a wolf. Two
Shepherds leapt from the front of the first van, covered from chest to thigh
with holstered weapons, guns in hand. The pack made it to the open road and
Aldon vanished. The message from the vampire was clear—his obligation was done
and he wasn’t sticking around for the show.

Bullets soared across the distance before hitting or missing
intended targets as the Shepherds moved to the front of the vehicles. The scent
of blood didn’t stop the pack, it enraged them, driving them forward as the
Shepherds threw away the empty weapons and replaced them with ones strapped to
their bodies.