She shook her head drowsily. “No, Mr. Wise. The only mistake I made was pulling you into that cave, saving your life.”
“On that we can agree,” he replied.
Like the cat she’d always wished she could be, Petra slid away from the doorway and stalked into the room. Her insides completely relaxed, she moved toward Syn until she could see him clearly, until her eyes adjusted to the dim light. He stood beside the bed, feet apart, arms at his sides, ready to spring, his eyes narrowed. She couldn’t help herself. Her gaze followed the ridges of muscle in his abdomen up to both the hard planes of his chest and the well-sculpted breadth of his shoulders until she reached what truly interested her. What made her mouth water. What made a guttural moan of need escape her lips.
His neck.
And the long, thick line of pulsing vein beneath.
“You owe me, Synjon,” she said softly. “You owe us.”
“I gave you the blood you require.”
She nodded. “True. You gave me blood.”
“But it’s not enough.”
She shook her head, her lips twitching into another satisfied smile.
“You will break our bargain, then?” he asked, every muscle in his extraordinary body tensing.
“My loyalty is here.” She stopped before him and placed her hand on her belly. “Will always be here.”
His gaze dropped and his nostrils flared. “I suppose I cannot fault you for that.”
His vein called to her. A siren song she could never refuse. Didn’t want to refuse. Saliva filled her mouth in anticipation. She would feed again. Soon. “Until the balas is born, you will remain here.”
“As your prisoner?”
Her eyes lifted to meet his. “No. As our food source.”
Though his expression was as calm as the river outside, something flashed in his gaze. But it was gone in an instant. He shook his head slowly. “I won’t allow it, love. I cannot.”
“We’ll see.” Breaking into a broad grin, she turned and walked away, out of the room, down the hall, and into the sunlight, feeling—for the first time in months—fucking fantastic.
• • •
The moon was obstructed by heavy clouds as Phane landed on his perch on the roof of the warehouse in SoHo. It had taken several months, but he’d built the thing himself. Not your ordinary two-by-two redwood block, the massive perch was erected out of steel and sported a feeding station, an all-weather leather nest, and a high-tech sound system. Nearly fifteen feet in the air, it overlooked the city, and the long, heated swimming pool that was Helo’s sanctuary.
Still in his hawk form, Phane blinked, his beak twitching as he watched the water beast move back and forth along the brightly lit bottom. They had created a world for themselves here. He and Helo and Ly. An existence. Granted, it wasn’t perfect, but at least it was on their terms, and that was all that mattered in the end.
As if his thoughts had summoned the lone wolf, the roof door burst open, and the large, shaggy gray male stalked out. His eyes trained on the water, he went directly for the pool, then when he reached the edge, tilted his head back and howled.
The sound was purposeful, and caused Phane to screech in return, his feathers rustling. In seconds, he broke from his perch, and took off. He didn’t bother circling, trying for a gentle landing. He dove low and quick, touching down a little too roughly near an unlit torch just as Helo emerged from the steaming water. They all shifted at once in the cold night air.
“Button up, Beasts,” Lycos said, grabbing a pair of jeans off one of the deck chairs and yanking them on. “We’ve got company.”
Helo followed suit, pulling on his own dark blue denim. “Is that what your howl was about, Ly? Are we having a party tonight? I could use some female company, but that call of the wild you just released is supposed to be reserved for dire circumstances.”
“This is dire,” Lycos said. “In my opinion anyway.”
Helo snorted.
“And there will be females, yes,” Lycos added with a smirk. “But they’ll all be mated.”
“Well, what’s the point of that?” Helo said, turning to Phane as the door to the roof opened once again.
“Gotta love family,” Dillon said, walking out onto the deck. The jaguar shifter and new Order member was followed by her mate, Gray, and most of the Roman clan. “They really know how to make a person feel loved,” she added.
“Oh, it’s you,” Helo said with a disappointed chuckle.
Snarling halfheartedly at the water beast, Gray pulled out a chair for Dillon to sit in. “Don’t worry, baby. Later on tonight I’ll make you feel real loved.”“Okay,” said Lucian, who was the last to enter the rooftop oasis. “Let’s not start down that road. I might lose my dinner.”
His mate, Bronwyn, welcomed him on the chaise where she was already seated, then cuddled up next to him. “You used to be such a romantic, Luca.”
“That’s right,” Nicholas agreed with a wide grin as he stood behind his mate, Kate. “Sweet, romantic, lovable Luca.”
While Kate bit her lip to keep from laughing, Lucian flashed his fangs at his older brother. “You. Shut it.” Then he turned back to Bronwyn. “And you, my beautiful raven-haired vixen,” he said in a far gentler tone, nuzzling her neck. “Don’t pretend you like all that sappy shit. When I know the truth. When I know exactly what you prefer.”
He leaned in then and whispered something in Bron’s ear. Instantly she gasped, her cheeks turning bright red. Bringing a hand to his mouth, she tried to silence him, but Lucian only growled playfully and nibbled at her fingers. Pulling her hand free, Bronwyn broke out into a fit of laughter.
Phane watched the entire display, his gut aching. He turned away from them and focused on Helo and Lycos. This was becoming too familiar. This jealousy, this growing need for a mate of his own. He wanted what his Roman brothers had. What his Beast brother, Erion, had. Shit, he would even go into Hell and remain if it meant he had a chance of finding someone like Hellen or Bron or Sara or Kate.
His gaze moved back to the family, to Dillon in particular. His half sister, the one who had also been headed for the Dumpster when Cruen had decided to rescue them, adopt them. Use them. She was eyeing her own mate, the Impure male Gray, but not with flirtatious abandon. Instead, the female mutore looked thoughtful, concerned even. Phane crossed his arms over his naked chest and waited for whatever was to come. Because clearly this wasn’t a social call, no matter how much the couples were using it as one.
“Dillon?” He said her name softly, but firmly.
She looked up, found his gaze.
“What’s going on?” he asked her, his voice carrying above the small crowd, snagging their attention.
When all conversation had ceased and all eyes were on D, she puffed out her cheeks and blew a weighty breath that caught in the cool night air.
“We have a slight problem,” she began. “Unfortunately or fortunately because of my illustrious and very unwanted position on the Order—”
“We get it, baby,” Gray said, giving her a smile and a squeeze on her shoulders, trying to ease her tension. “You have a love/hate thing going on with those Pureblood bastards.”
She turned and glared at him. “Yeah, laugh it up. It should’ve been you.”
“True that,” Gray said. “Mouth closed over here.”
She shook her head and turned back to the group. “Anyway. The Order has learned about the shifter community where Sara’s sister and her adopted family live.”
“Shit . . . ,” Helo muttered. The Order had only recently found out about the trip into Hell, and the origin of Erion’s mutore side. What would their reaction be to another group who’d had influence over their vampire blood?
“How?” Phane asked, drawing closer.
“Feeyan informed us,” Dillon said. “I don’t know how she found out. But that’s not the problem. Well, not the biggest part of the problem.”
“What do you mean?” Helo asked.
Lycos sneered. “Are the big, blustering vampires scared of the wee animals?”
“The Order can’t see the shifters as a threat to the Eternal Breed,” Phane said, wondering where this was all going. “Not like the mutore were.”
“Are,” Lycos corrected, his tone dripping with ire. “Mutore will never be accepted by the Purebloods even if one happens to be on the Order.”
Dillon turned her gaze on him, but said nothing.
“The shifters have kept to themselves forever,” Helo said, remaining close to the water. “They’re peaceful beings. It was Cruen’s interference that started this, taking their DNA, using it to make a more perfect specimen of vampire.”
“Now she knows where the mutore came from,” Lycos said. “If that isn’t a threat to their perfectly pure blood I don’t know what is.”
“It’s not about the blood,” Dillon said at last. “At least not yet. Feeyan believes the shifters aren’t so peaceful after all. In fact, she believes they’re holding Pureblood vampires against their will.”
“You mean Petra?” Phane said. “That’s bullshit.”
Seated beside Alexander, a very pregnant Sara nodded. “Of course it is. Petra wants to be there. Her family”—she paused for a few seconds—“the family she grew up with, at any rate, is there.”
“Do they know this?” Helo asked Dillon. “Do they know the truth of the situation?”
“No.” Dillon took a deep breath, shook her head. “I didn’t want them to know the connection between Petra and our family.”
“Why not?” Lycos asked coldly. “What is there to hide besides her asshole of a father, and how he conned Celestine, a desperate veana, into screwing over her mate and fucking him instead?”
A low growl rumbled in Alexander’s throat, but Sara put her hand on his arm to quiet him. She looked at Lycos, her eyes steady, her voice clear. “My mother made a mistake, a grave mistake, going to Cruen for help. She’s paying for it. We’re all paying for it. But the Order isn’t going to profit from it. Do you understand?”