"Dimitri! I would prefer that you notify me before you leap from a two-story mansion," she growled.
"Such a baby, I can leap from the 20th floor without a problem." He snickered, his body tingling with delight. Goodness, it felt so good. It had been so long since he had felt excitement. So long since he hadn't been trapped in his frigid life.
"Are you serious? Are you trying to kill yourself?" She spat back with a deadly glare, "...put me down now!"
"Sweetheart, are you mothering me now?" He laughed again. How he loved to tease this woman.
"Of course not… I-Im just…"
"Bullocks! Next time, I promise to warn you though," he husked, trailing his lips down her warm cheek.
She arched away from his touch. Her mute protest, however, couldn't disguise the passion that perfumed her skin. Ah, hormones. They were wonderful things.
"There won't be a next time." She strengthened her assertion with yet another punch to his chest. "I don't need you or anyone else to save me."
He touched his tongue to the frantic pulse that beat at the base of her throat. "You've changed, my little human."
"I didn't have much choice... You turned me into a vampire."
"Oh come on, at least I'm not the only one now. Even if you are not pureblood, at least I have someone to call a family now." He added thoughtfully.
She gaped at him, "You mean there is no one out there?"
"Yes, I'm the last living vampire. Ironic huh? But don't worry, I have you now."
Damn if this man wasn't sweet as hell, how could someone like her say no to that?
His arms instinctively tightened. Damn the Fates. They had not told him much more about this human, and now here she was targeted by some powerful witch, thankful he had her on time just when this vulnerable woman needed him the most.
"I suppose, that's ironic?." His touch became soothing as he stroked his lips along her collarbone, silently absorbing her intoxicating scent. It was, at last, the distant sound of a police car that forced Dimitri to lift his head. "We need to leave here before it is discovered that you are no longer in my mansion.
Someone wanted you dead and I'm hell sure to let that someone suffer."
Someone was going to pay dearly.
"Wait…"
He ignored her protest as he bolted down the nearly empty street. It wouldn't be empty for long. The Council minions had a weird obsession with disasters. And a magical fire burning in a historic vampire mansion filled with the elite Council hunters of Irish society would certainly qualify as a disaster.
Well, at least to some.
"Sorry, Blanca, but I don't have time to argue."
She struggled in his grasp. "Put me down."
"Not until we're away from here. Someone wants you dead, and I don't intend to give them satisfaction. "
She stilled as if astonished by his blunt words. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you care if I'm alive or dead?"
He glanced down at her cautious dark raven eyes, a jolt of genuine male possession sprinting through him. "I told you, five years ago, that you belong to me, you are mine, Blanca Vergil," he growled. "No one is authorized to hurt you. I will go through the pits of hell to save you, and you have to know that." He grumbled under his breath as they disappeared into the night.
*****
Two days ago.
In terms of Alpha Liam's safe haven, the Lone One pub was by far the most costly, elegant, and exclusive establishment in the entire city of Dublin. Surprisingly, it was also the most mysterious, and he owned it, but nobody knew it was his aside from his friend who happened to oversee it for ten years now. However, no listing could be found in the phone book. There will be no flashing neon lights or flashy billboard ads to reveal its location. In reality, the entire structure was hidden behind a veil of glitz. Anyone who knew anyone knew where it was. Humans were not among those who could be anyone. It was exclusive for supernatural folks, and if humans were allowed, they would probably forget the location the next day.
Among the marble pillars and sparkling fountains were different supernatural folk engaged in a variety of malicious acts. Gambling, drinking, exotic dancing, and discreet (and not-so-discreet) orgies are all popular pastimes.
All of this comes at a high price. No doubt, delectable treats for the supernatural, but on this cold February night, his long-time pal, the most powerful werewolf in Ireland, known as Alpha Liam Samuel of the Dublin pack, was not interested in the activities available underneath the private deck. Or in the many hunters, witches, and werewolves who paused to bow deeply to him. Instead, he looked down at his companion with despair. After all, it was the death anniversary of his cousin, Luna Barbara, and her mate, Alpha Benjamin. Those wars twenty years ago had done nothing but kill almost all of their bloodline. Not to mention that his sister's own pack was now under Alpha Alexander Jaguar's lethal claw.
At first glance, looking at his companion, they couldn't be more similar. That was not totally accurate. After all, they were both tall and endowed with the powerful bodies that werewolves are known for. They both had black eyes and the obligatory fangs. But that's where the parallels end. Killian, the younger werewolf, had come from the northern Irish territories and inherited his ancestors' pale silver hair and even whiter complexion. Alpha Liam, on the other hand, had come from the scorching lands of South Africa and retained the bronzed skin and haughty angular features of the dark natives even after many centuries.
Tonight, he had put aside his traditional robe and chosen black leather pants, thigh-high boots, and a black silk shirt. He had assumed the garb would make him less noticeable as he traveled the streets on the outskirts of Dublin.
Unfortunately, there was no means for a six-foot-seven werewolf with raven hair braided to his knees to go unnoticed. Especially from mortal ladies who had little defense against werewolves' allure. Earlier, as he traveled through the dark alleys, he had attracted the attention of nearly three admiring females. Finally, he took to the roofs to avoid their constant attention.
With a sigh, he wished he could have stayed buried in his bunkers.
For years, he had lived the life of a hermit, guarding the Dark Book, the sole remaining book of dark spells, which had been given to him on the day Barbara died. He'd been an authority and a protector, never leaving the ancient Dark Book's side. It was claimed to contain a magical spell as well as the name of the next chosen one. It was the last copy of the book of the first Luna, the mother of all werewolves, Goddess Tenebris, the ancient goddess of wolves. And Liam understood that many alphas wanted it, not only those of the werewolf lineage but also those who sought to govern the werewolf population in general. Luna Babara and Benjamin were the only people who knew where the book was, and now it was in Benjamin's hands. He thought it was a secret, but it was missing now.
But with the book missing, he was forced to go in search of it, and he discovered that he could no longer hide. Not with one problem after another bothering him.
It was enough to irritate the most formidable members of the council. Lady Morgana, the leader of London's witch coven, nonetheless his friend.
"I am always delighted to be here Alpha Liam, but I must warn you that my coven is uncomfortable enough about having me among your pack," Lady Morgana drawled. "If you don't stop frowning at me, they will be bound to worry that they will soon be without a leader." Realizing he had allowed his attention to roam, Liam suddenly straightened in the elegant leather chair. By impulse, his hand lifted to touch the wolf's dark tattoo around his neck.
It was a symbol of his species. More than that, it was believed to be a means of passing spirits from one generation to another. That didn't, nevertheless, keep him from holding on to at least a few of his more spiritual beliefs.
"Come on. I am not frowning."
Lady Morgana grinned wryly. Her golden hair flowed like rivers while her chiffon white lace dress accentuated her beautiful curves. "You forget, Liam, I have a husband, which means that I am confidentially taught with every variety of scowls. And you, my pal, are most certainly scowling." The smile receded as the Alpha regarded her with a manner of cautious understanding.
"Why do you not tell me what is bothering you?"
Liam halted before having a vague sigh. He had to do this. Even if he would rather be beaten, flayed, and de-clawed than concede he needed assistance.
As a witch coven for the territory, Lady Morgana was more familiar with Ireland than any other supernatural of his acquaintance. It would be beyond foolish not to accept her aid.
"It's the," he said abruptly. "London pack."
"Alpha Alexander?"
"Yes, the one and only."
Lady Morgana gave a low hiss. As mortal enemies, there was little affection lost between London Pack and her coven. "What commotion is the bastard brewing now?"
"It has gone beyond mere crisis. They have left their perceived hunting grounds and been trading magical plans with the elven folks again and I have tracked at least a part of the pack to Ireland via train that makes my pack uncomfortable." Liam clenched his fists in his lap. "And they have already killed numerous humans for their banquets and parties, and left them to be found out by the human authorities."
Lady Morgana didn't so much as flinch. Of course, it would take more than a pack of Alexander to rattle the powerful Liam. Something else was bothering him too.
She listened as he continued, "plus there have been rumors of feral giant canines roaming the mountains of Dublin. I did wonder if it might be the feral from Alexander's pack, you know well enough that the elven magical plan is often used as a drug, it could ruin any wolf's mind."
"Why am I not surprised?! Alexander is a bastard to the maximum level, God I hated the man as I hated a bloodsucking vampire," she grumbled under her breath.
"Alpha Alexander is far too ambitious for his own good." He added.
"Have you tried to reason with him? And did he stay away from your territory?" The beautiful witch smirked and sipped her wine. Knew full well what his answer was.
Alpha Liam narrowed his gaze. Whether he wanted the position or not, he was the alpha of the Dublin pack. Which meant that the world of werewolves in entire Ireland stooped to his powers. Including the ferals but Alexander's feral rogues were untamable and far beyond saving.
So far, yet, the recent feral attack had treated his leadership with nothing more than disdain from the supernatural folks.
An error Alpha Alexander would soon learn to lament, not that he already forgot about what happened twenty years ago.
"The bastard refuses to meet with me." Liam's tone was as raw as his attitude. "He alleges that the ferals from his territory will no longer be subservient to other wolves and that any agreements that were made in the past are now void."
Lady Morgana lifted her brows, no doubt marveling why Liam hadn't already executed the bastard. "He's either very noble or very foolish."
"Very foolish. I have called for a conference of the Council, but it could take days if not weeks before they can be gathered in one place." Liam pertained to the council that resolved conflicts between the several supernatural classes. It was made by ancient leaders that barely left their hidden dens. Unfortunately, they were the only legitimate means of passing a verdict upon the alpha or leader of another class without retribution. "In the meantime, the reckless actions of London feral threaten us all. The human paranormal authorities are on the move again."