Eternal Sin

6

“You drank from him, didn’t you?” Dani called over her thickly feathered shoulder to Petra as they flew past a stand of teak that housed three of the Avian’s twenty-two nesting grounds.

Avoiding her best friend’s massive wings, Petra leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the hawk’s neck. “Of course I did.”

“Well, I hope you drained him dry. I hope he could barely breathe. I hope he was coughing and sputtering and losing consciousness—”

“I get it, Dani,” she shouted over the wind. “You want him to suffer.”

Dani glanced back, her hawk eyes flashing with ire. “Did he tell you how close he came to having sex with me?”

“No, you told me, remember?” Petra returned.

“Of course, for me,” Dani went on, “it was all part of the act. We needed to get him alone, get him as vulnerable as possible. He’s a total manwhore, and last night I made sure he chose me.”

This wasn’t a subject Petra felt all that comfortable with. Especially a second time. And yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking, “So, if Sasha and Val were late or hadn’t shown up, were you actually going to—”

“Fuck him?” Dani called back, sounding appalled before she actually snorted. “Hell to the no.”

“You make it sound like a fate worse than death, Dani. The guy’s incredibly hot. And the things he can do . . .” What the hell am I saying? She shook her head. It felt like someone else was running her mouth.

“I don’t want to hear about his magic tongue,” Dani shouted.

Heat flared in Petra’s cheeks. “You can stop now.”

Dani laughed. “Fine, then. His magic penis.”

“Okay,” Petra said, completely mortified now. “I think we should play the quiet game. Don’t you?”

“No. I don’t.” And just to send that message home, Dani dive-bombed into the forest, pulled up right before they would have hit the ground, and then started serpentining through the trees.

Petra gripped the hawk’s feathers, her mouth dry as she panted with fear. “That was unnecessary,” she called through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think so,” Dani called back. “You need your brain shaken up, reworked. You’re talking about this guy being all hot and everything, and all I can think is he screwed my best friend, got her preggers, and couldn’t care less.”

Petra winced. Her best friend’s words cut deep. As they were meant to. “You know my father took away his emotions. He couldn’t feel a thing now even if he wanted to.”

The hawk made an irritated sound. “Are you seriously defending him?”

“No.” And she wasn’t. That would be insane. That would make her foolish and optimistic, and worse yet, a glutton for punishment.

“You totally are,” Dani returned. “Please tell me that blood you took from him didn’t shatter the reality of the here and now, and his major dickhood.”

Jeez. Sometimes Dani could be a major pain in the ass. “Rest assured I haven’t suddenly become blind to reality. But his blood did calm me down. Made me able to think and feel, without pain and depression along for the ride.”

“Well . . . I suppose I am glad of that.” Dani was quiet for a moment. Then, “You think he’ll try to escape?”

Absofreakinglutely. “He tried once already.”

“What?” Dani cried, dropping about eight feet, making Petra’s gut fly up into her throat.

“Christ, Dani! Pregnant back here.”

“Sorry.” She quickly leveled out.

“He got burned, okay? Stepped right into the sun, trying to get past me. Didn’t work out very well. Skin started smoking and all that.”

Dani snorted. “Nice. Wish I could’ve seen that.”

“He’s not going anywhere. Val and Sasha are standing guard inside the cabin.”

“That should be interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“You hope he doesn’t go, don’t you?”

“What?” Then she sighed. “Oh, Dani, my love, he has the blood.”

Dani’s hawk made a screeching sound at that, then started circling the waterfall below and the gathering stones beside it. The stones that marked their borders, and that welcomed all outsiders to their world. “All right, vamp girl,” she called back. “Before we land, I really need you to repeat after me.”

Petra rolled her eyes. “What is it?”

“I. Hate. Synjon. Wise.”

Petra laughed. “Fine. Simple enough.” She raised her voice to the wind. “I hate Synjon Wise.”

“Barely convincing,” Dani drawled. “And this too: I will never let him touch me again.”

Petra’s laughter petered out. Now that one wasn’t so simple, and Petra didn’t want to even look into why that might be. She’d had enough worrisome admissions today.

Dani squawked at her. “You’re hesitating. You shouldn’t be hesitating. Hesitating will get you into trouble.”

“Shit, Dani. Look at me. I’m already in trouble. Seven months’ worth.” She laughed. “And I kinda have to touch him if I’m taking his blood.”

Dani glanced over one feathered shoulder. “Yeah, but he doesn’t have to touch you.”

“Look out! The tree!” Petra called, pointing ahead. “Jeez. Come on, Dani, focus. Mom and baby don’t have the ironclad shifter belly.”

Smooth and easy, Dani banked around the massive tree, then came in for a landing just outside the rock wall of the gathering stones. Petra slid off her back, spotting her mother already seated beside Sara on several small, flat boulders in the center of the stones. Petra’s blood sister. She still couldn’t get used to that concept. Neither of them had noticed her yet. They were deep in conversation, and for one second Petra felt a splash of jealousy move through her. Sara already had one mother. She didn’t need Petra’s too.

“Hey, Bestie,” Dani called out to her.

Petra stopped, realized she’d been walking toward her mother and Sara, and glanced over her shoulder.

Dani’s hawk eyes narrowed. “You never repeated that last bit.”

No, she hadn’t.

“I will never let him touch me again,” Dani urged.

Petra gave the hawk a quick grin. “Thanks for the ride, Bestie. I owe you.” Then she made her way toward the gathering stones and the family she barely knew.

Phane couldn’t take his eyes off the female hawk. He stood on the very top of the highest rock within the gathering stones and stared. Every member of his family that could handle sunlight—except Ly, of course, who had once again refused to come—was seated and waiting a few feet below him. Like Helo, Phane had also been curious about the Rain Forest and its creatures. After living all of his life among vampires, Phane had wanted to know about that other part of himself. The one that had never been discussed or revealed. But in all that time—hell, even back at the house in SoHo—he’d never contemplated another being like himself.

He felt his hawk scratch inside his skin as he watched the female shift from avian form to human. In the air, gliding, swooping, touching down, she’d been fucking magnificent. But on land, in her female form . . . Shit, he’d never seen anything or anyone so hot. She was the perfect height, not too tall, not too short. Her body was a mix of athletic strength and dangerous, supple curves. Her blond hair was cut in a short and sexy style that accentuated her beautiful, sharp-as-shit face, and mysterious black eyes and a ripe mouth that she seemed to work well and often. But it was the piercing—the small ring through her nose—that made Phane’s entire body erupt in possessive desire.

He wanted to lick it, run his fangs over it.

Maybe while she bit his neck.

His cock strained against the zipper of his jeans. Then went steel hard as before his very eyes the last shreds of hawk feathers disappeared and she was completely and totally nude. His obvious, lecherous gaze raked over her spectacular body just seconds before she slipped on a thin electric blue dress.

She’d been naked. In front of anyone who cared to look—and Phane was pretty damn sure there were many who wanted to look—and she didn’t give a shit.

That was his kind of female.

Fuck, he might be in love with her already.

He thought about shifting into his hawk and gliding down to stand beside her. He needed to stake his claim, let her know he planned on mating with her. Not today. Not unless she agreed to it, of course. But soon.

Unfortunately, the dark-haired veana who looked so similar to Alexander’s Sara stepped into the center of the stones at precisely that moment, drawing everyone’s attention. Phane knew the female was in swell, but he hadn’t realized how far along she was. Five, maybe six months. She looked good though, healthy, her face and eyes bright—far better than when he had seen her last.

“Why have you all come?” she asked the small crowd of Petra’s mother, the Roman females, Helo, Phane, and Dillon.

The last was the first to speak. “This land, Petra, your existence—it has all been a closely guarded secret for some time.”

“Try forever,” said the hawk shifter female, who stood in the shadows of a massive boulder, just a few feet behind Petra.

Damn, she was tough. Phane liked tough.

“Right,” Dillon amended. “Well, it’s a secret no longer.”

“Do you speak of more than yourselves?” asked Petra’s mother, Wen, who sat beside Sara.

“I do.”

“Humans?” Wen asked.

“No,” Dillon said. “Our kind. Vampires.”

Wen looked momentarily relieved. “Didn’t they already know? With Cruen as their leader . . .”

“He held this secret pretty damn close to the vest,” Dillon explained. “He didn’t share anything about you with the vampire community, and he told you nothing about us.”

“So is that the only reason you’re here?” Petra asked. “To let us know about this development?”

“We wish,” Sara said tightly, her eyes locking with her half sister’s. “They know Pureblood vampires are here. They think they’re being held against their will.”

“That’s right.” Dillon ran her hand over the smooth surface of the rock. “And by this new species they’ve just heard about. The head of the Order, Feeyan, is running on paranoia and nerves, if you get my meaning.”

“I’m not here against my will,” Petra informed her, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ll be happy to tell them that. Anytime they want to come here to the gathering rocks—”

“You’ll have to go to them, Petra.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not leaving the Rain Forest. Not until the balas is born.”

Dillon sighed. “You don’t want them to come here. You don’t want us—the Order—involved in your world. Trust me.”

As the forest winds blew around them, Petra seemed to consider this. “If I go to them, tell them the truth, that I’m a free and independent being and I wish to remain here, can you guarantee that they’ll not only accept what I say but allow me to return?”

The wind died, and everything, everyone, within the gathering rocks grew still, eerily quiet as Dillon pondered this. The mutore female looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, and dealing with something far less problematic.

“I can’t guarantee anything,” she said finally, her tone unabashedly melancholy. “Not when it comes to the Order.”

Petra put her hands up in a defensive posture. “Then I’m not going.”

As the female hawk shifter broke from the shadows and came up alongside Petra in a blatant show of support, Phane dropped down from one rock to the next until he stood just inside the flat, grassy oval where the pair was.

“Here’s the problem.” It was Kate who spoke this time. Nicholas’s mate had been pretty quiet lately, keeping to herself since her nephew, Ladd, had gone to the Underworld to live with his father, Erion, and his father’s mate, Hellen. Everyone knew how hard the move had been on the veana, and it was good to hear her sharp, steady voice again. “If the Order comes here to see you, they’re going to want to see and question the other vampire who’s here.”

Petra’s lips formed a thin line and her face paled.

“What other vampire?” said the female hawk shifter with a sneer.

“We can’t skirt around this anymore,” Kate continued. “Is Synjon here, Petra?”

Petra was silent, but Phane noticed her hands had gone to her belly. The hawk female’s eyes narrowed on Kate. Damn, she was fierce. He wanted her eyes on him like that.

“Is he here against his will?” Kate asked, her gaze unmoving as she sought Petra’s attention.

“You don’t have to answer them, Pets,” said the hawk shifter. “You don’t have to answer to anyone—”

But Petra couldn’t be quelled. “The baby needs him.”

“Pets!”

She shook her head. “No. It’s okay, Dani.” With a slow exhale, she walked forward, toward Dillon and the small crowd seated on the rocks behind her.

Dani. So that was the female shifter’s name. Hot damn, Phane mused, wanting to try it out on his tongue but knowing he had to use only his mind for now.

Dani.

He liked it. He liked it a lot. And so did his hawk.

“I sympathize with what you’re saying, Petra,” Dillon said. “I know what Synjon’s put you through, what a complete and total shithead he’s been over the past week. I was the one who told Alex, Nicky, and Luca to get into that penthouse of his and talk some sense into him. But right now, I speak for the motherfucking Order—not my favorite thing to do, mind you—but there it is. They won’t rest on this until they have the truth.”

“Look, veana.” It was Helo who spoke, his gaze on Petra, his voice calm. “Let us speak to Synjon. If he’s cool with being here, all he has to do is tell the Order that and we’re done.”

Petra turned her attention to the water beast and sighed. “He’s not cool with it.”

“Oh, shit,” Dillon muttered.

“You need to let him go, Petra,” Kate said.

“No.”

“Then at least let Helo or Phane speak with him.”

“No.”

Kate turned to Sara. “Please talk to her. You’re her family. Her blood.”

“And say what?” Sara asked, her tone very different from that of the rest of them. It was coarse and strained. “‘Let your baby suffer, die because his emotionless father wants to go back to his fuckpad and party’?” Sara looked around at her family, who were all staring wide-eyed at her. “If Alexander was acting like this, if I needed his blood, and my baby was at risk, would any of you ask me to hand him over?”

Kate fell silent. Dillon and Helo too.

“So, it’s settled,” said the hawk shifter. “The asshole isn’t going anywhere.”

Phane turned to regard her. Tough, tantalizing, she completely fascinated him, and he didn’t want to leave. Syn was one lucky male. How could he get Dani the hawk shifter to take him “against his will,” show him the nest she was going to keep him in? Feed from him anytime she chose?

“You understand,” Dillon said over Phane’s pornographic daydream. “If he’s not either released or telling the Order that he stays here of his own free will, the entire ruling vampire force might descend on your private world.”

Petra’s jaw was tight and her eyes were strained. She glanced at her mother. The one who’d raised her. Wanted her.

Wen gave her a broad smile. “Let them come!”

“Double shit,” Dillon muttered.

“That’s right,” Dani called out. “We’ll protect Petra and this child.”

“You would protect a vampire?” Phane said, addressing her outright for the first time.

The female hawk shifter, the hot little blond bird with metal in her nose, turned to look at him.

“Incurring the wrath of the Eternal Order?” he continued.

Her eyes narrowed as she moved her gaze up and down his body, pausing for only a second when she spied the bulge between his legs that he couldn’t conceal, or refused to conceal—he wasn’t sure which. “We always protect our own, bloodsucker. And Petra’s our family.”

The bulge quickly upgraded to steel. “You may have to fight.”

She grinned, and the megawatt heat that smile put out nearly sent Phane to his knees. “Nothing I enjoy more than a good dirty fight.”

“You mean a good clean fight,” Phane corrected.

“No. That’s not what I mean.” With one last look in his direction, she turned back to the crowd.

“We appreciate the warning,” Wen said to them all. “If they come we’ll deal with them.”

“You’re sure?” Petra asked the older female. “I don’t want to bring a problem here—”

“They’re bringing the problem, my Pets,” said the older female.

Petra turned then, her gaze resting on Dillon. “If you must tell them something, tell them the truth. A vampire balas needs his father’s blood to survive. Let’s see if they truly value the Eternal Breed or not.”

Just two hours until sundown.

Two hours until he was back in New York. Where he belonged. Where Cruen’s body would soon find shelter, pain, suffering, misery . . . then death, if he was a model prisoner.

Synjon continued to wear out the floorboards in the large, lightless cabin bedroom. The pussy brothers sat in the direct sunlight at a table in the living area just ten feet away, playing cards. Every so often, they’d glance his way and remind him they didn’t appreciate having to babysit his deadbeat vampire ass.

They were really getting on his nerves.

Before he flashed to the penthouse, he was going to flash directly in front of the pussy brothers and do some facial rearranging.

“Huffing and puffing in there, bloodsucker?” Sasha called, amusement lacing his tone. “I thought you didn’t have emotions.”

“I think he’s been faking it,” Valentin said.

“Bet he’s learned how to do that from all the women he’s conned into his bed.”

Synjon nearly rolled his eyes. These two were truly the feline equivalent of human teenage boys. And clearly Sasha was the instigator. The male would be first in line for the fangdown at sunset tonight.

“When is Petra returning?” Syn asked as he passed the open bedroom door. “She’s been gone a bloody long time.”

“Miss her, do you?” Sasha said with a chuckle.

“Sure,” Syn returned evenly. “Or it could be that I grow weary in the company of grown children.”

“I think he just insulted us,” Valentin said with mock injury.

“Hard to tell with that accent,” replied Sasha. “Listen, bloodsucker, Petra’ll be back when she’s hungry.” He laughed. “I like that.”

“Still can’t believe our little sister’s a vampire,” Val said, his tone now slightly melancholy.

“Makes sense, though, doesn’t it? Those games we used to play. She never attacked like an animal. And during snack time she always wrinkled her nose at our raw meat cakes and criticized us for our less than perfect table manners.”

“She still does that,” Val said. “But, shit, brother, I refuse to use a knife and fork. I was given canines for a reason.”

“I hear that.”

Synjon stopped pacing. “Perhaps you blokes can reminisce outside.”

Sasha tipped his chair back so he could see Syn. “Not sure we’re ready to risk that.”

“Sun still shining, eh?”

“Hard and hot.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere, am I?” Syn said before continuing his pacing.

Val pressed his chair back too. “Doesn’t matter, bloodsucker. Sun, moon, dusk. We’re going to make sure you stay here until our sister is done with you.”

“That’s right,” Sasha piped up. “Don’t wanna have to make the trip back into frozen New York City to pick up your pale ass again.”

It was truly his grand shame. The pussy brothers catching him off guard, knocking him out, dragging him here. He’d have to make sure that didn’t get out, in the spy community, the military, or his home credenti. “How did you manage it?” Syn asked. “I’m curious.”

“What? Breaking in your place and stealing you?” Val grinned. “Dani’s such a pisser.”

“Forget Dani,” Sasha remarked. “It was our skill and incredible brute strength.”

Synjon’s nostrils flared at their idiocy. “What drug did you use to get me to this hovel? That’s all I want to know.”

Both chairs dropped back into place with a crash, and Synjon couldn’t see them anymore. “Did he just call the playhouse that you and me and Dad built with our bare paws a hovel, Val?”

“I believe he did.”

Sasha growled softly. “If his blood wasn’t needed inside our sister, I might have to spread it around the hovel right now.”

“Please don’t make any messes, boys,” Petra said, walking through the front door. “I spent way too many years picking up after the two of you.”

“Thank Christ you’re back,” Synjon said, coming to stand in the bedroom doorway. “The pussy brothers here are trying out material for their comedy act. So far I’d say it’s a glorious fail.”

For one brief moment, Syn was sure her lips twitched with amusement. It reminded him of her smile. The happy one, the well-pleasured one. He saw it on the lids of his eyes when they were closed. That particular smile made her eyes light up, and glow with blue fire.

She eyed her brothers. “You can go.”

Sasha raised a blond brow. “You sure?”

“He’s not going anywhere. Sun’s still high.”

“All righty.” Sasha kicked the chair back and stood.

Val too. “So, what happened? With the meeting?”

“Mom will tell you,” she said, her voice softer than before. “She’s back at the house.” She tilted her chin in the direction of the door. “Go.”

“Fine.” Val walked past her.

But Sasha hesitated in the hall, his eyes on Syn. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

“Lovely,” Synjon said overpolitely. “Can’t wait.”

There were grumblings of irritated comebacks, but Petra managed to shuffle her brothers out the front door. When she returned, Synjon was leaning against the doorframe, his back to the dark bedroom.

“You were gone a long time.”

She shrugged. “There was a lot to discuss.”

“Like . . .”

“Dillon was there.”

“The Order.” Interesting. And quite possibly problematic.

Her eyes turned a crystal blue as she walked toward him. She licked her lips. “She and Gray and the Roman brothers’ mates and even a few of the mutore wanted to make sure you were being well treated.”

Even in jeans and a tank, she was unbelievably sexy. Or maybe it was because of the jeans and the tank. He tried to keep his gaze off her belly. It bothered him that her swell intensified his desire for her.

“And what did you tell them?” he asked.

She stopped just a few inches from the doorway and inhaled rather obviously. “That I was doing my level best to locate and drain every bit of shitty attitude from your person.”

He grinned. Couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t just her swell that was making his cock twitch. It was her voice too, her attitude, the hunger in her expression. Bloody hell, he might not have emotions, but his body was on fire and ready to go.

All she had to do was say the word.

“I’m surprised they didn’t want to see me,” he said.

“They did.”

“And you . . .”

“Told them no.” She leaned in then, breathed in, and ran her nose along the ridge of his collarbone.

What the hell? Synjon’s hands fisted around the doorframe. Do that again, little veana, and the next time you take my blood I’ll be taking your cunt.

She spoke against the skin of his neck. “I told them you were mine until the balas is born.”

“And they didn’t insist?” he said in a hoarse voice.

She laughed softly. “No one’s going to fight a pregnant girl over her food.”

“Is that why you stand so close, veana? You want my blood—”

She jerked back then, and speared him with her gaze. “Not want, Mr. Wise. Need. Don’t ever mistake the difference. I don’t.”

He stared at her, his skin twitching with desire. He’d never seen a female so famished before. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and lapped at her upper lip with his tongue.

Again she jerked back. “What the hell was that?”

“You had a little of my blood on your lip.” His brow lifted. “I wanted it back.”

She brought her hand up and swiped at her mouth. “Don’t do that again. You don’t get to touch me.”

“Why? Because it excites you?”

“It disgusts me,” she said far too vehemently.

“I very much doubt that.”

“Do you?” Her eyes narrowed.

He couldn’t keep standing there, scenting her, his dick a pulsing stone behind his zipper. He turned and headed into the dimly lit bedroom.

To his surprise, she followed him. “Why? Because the rich, sexy, emotionless Synjon Wise has only to lay a finger on a female and she’s panting and parting her thighs for him?”

He turned around, shrugged. “Well, it might require more than a finger.”

“Pig.”

“I never claimed to be anything but, love.”

She clamped down on his chest and shoved him hard. He fell back on the bed, taking her with him in such a controlled way it was clear he hadn’t been caught off guard.

Shocked by where she found herself, poised above him, straddling his waist, Petra glared down at him. “How many females have you taken to your bed since we were together?”

“I never take anyone to my bed.” When her eyes lit with something far too soft, he amended the statement quickly. “Now, if you’re talking about a casual shag over the back of the couch, well, then . . .”

“That’s disgusting.” She tried to get up, get off him.

But he held her ass tightly. “No, veana. That’s normal, healthy fucking.”

“No, Syn, that’s just you. Screw ’em and leave ’em.”

His fingers dug into her ass and his voice dropped without his permission. “You walked out on me. Let’s not forget that.”

Her jaw worked and she stumbled slightly over her words. “I haven’t. I don’t.”

“Good.”

“Just like I won’t forget that you wanted to kill my father.”

“Wanted to?” He started to laugh. “It may not have happened in that dungeon as I’d planned. But it will happen.”

“I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t be able to stop it.”

Her fangs dropped. “I could kill you right now.”

“Shhhh . . .” He grinned. “No empty threats in front of the balas.”

Practically growling, she swatted his hands away and climbed off him. “It’s a promise. One I make to the balas. Protection from the evils of the world.”

“Then we are both saying the same thing, Petra.” He watched her turn and walk out of the room, his body screaming for her to come back, make him warm again. Maybe even make him feel again. “Because like it or not, love,” he called after her, “accept it or not—grandfather Cruen is the evil of this world.”