14. The Warrior

Aweek has passed since our declarations in the woods, and things are going well. Wren is thriving with my family, working on her art and reading our history. She continues working with Chandra on some fighting techniques, which she tells me she enjoys because it helps get out the aggression she still feels inside her. They have moved on to wooden weapons, and she is a magnificent sight to behold.

Being a new vampire is difficult until you get a feel for it. You can forget your strength, lose your senses around blood, and cause a lot of chaos around humans. Having this level of focus is good and gives me hope that the next human Wren sinks her teeth into will walk away.

News of the B.O.L.O. for Spencer reached us the night after she got her memory back. Charlee had called some of our local coven who cleaned the scene at Spencer’s place. No body, no blood, no crime. Now with him missing and Wren’s body not surfacing in the lake, they are operating under the possibility that he has done something to her. They’ll never suspect it is quite the opposite.

The local news stations have all picked up the story, and neighbors report hearing the yelling, crying, and sounds of the abuse. Yet none of them could ever be bothered to check on her? To call the police? Pathetic. She insists it was a rare occurrence, though part of me wonders if she hides the worst of it. If that is the case, I’ll let her keep her secret, she never needs to worry about that happening again. One less waste of space on this Earth, as far as I am concerned.

Leland has sent word that he will be returning home soon, and I am anxious for him to meet my beloved. We might as well be married. Now that we have found each other, there isn’t a force strong enough on this planet other than an unlikely death to keep us apart.

There is just one thing we need to do to get our happily-ever-after.

Tame Wren’s blood lust.

Charlee felt personally responsible for what happened the other night, noting that she should have kept a closer eye on Wren.

Wren, on the other hand, would hear none of Charlee’s apology.

“I told you I was good. I thought I could handle it, and I think if I hadn’t caught his scent, everything would have been fine.” She’s doing better now. She can at least talk about it without sending a knee-buckling wave of shame pouring through our bond.

I agree with Charlee.

She took responsibility for Wren and let her down.

If something worse had happened– if I had somehow lost Wren, I don’t think I would ever be able to forgive her.

Fortunately, everything has turned out fine, and I’ve made my peace.

We haven’t felt comfortable trying with another human so quickly after Spencer. Now that a week has passed, Wren has her memory, and she drinks from blood bags every day; I want to take her out. We will go to a club in Callery to show her how we hunt humans, and there will be a more prominent vampire presence to help offset everything.

Charlee has ever so kindly volunteered to do Wren’s hair and makeup and select her outfit for this evening. Rolando will come with us, and with the two of them, we should be able to clean up any messes if Wren makes one.

“I still don’t like it,” she says, sitting in a chair as Charlee works on her face. “What if I freak out in front of a bunch of people and eat someone?”

“Then Oz and Rolando will lock down the room, and we will compel everyone to forget.” Charlee sounds aloof, like this was your average night-out contingency plan. She is definitely my favorite sister. I am leaning against the door frame, watching the magic happen.

Of course, I always think Wren looks beautiful just as she is. Though even I have to admit Charlee is an artist when it comes to makeup—using light and shadows to enhance the sharpness of her cheekbones and jawline, adding shimmer in strategic places so it catches the light and the eye. It makes me think of how I can always do a formal wedding with Wren and invite the rest of the coven. A long time has passed since we were all in one place. It could be a family reunion of sorts.

Wren is in my thoughts. “I think that could be an interesting idea,” she said aloud. My eyes widen, and I cringe away from Charlee. “A fancy wedding and your whole family?”

Charlee rounds on me. “You’re thinking of a huge wedding, and you didn’t want me to know!” Fuck, here we go.

“I am the best party planner, and I am making Wren look like a goddess as it is. Can you just imagine what I could do with her in a white wedding gown?” I can very well imagine it, which is what got me into this mess. I see Wren smirk at me as Charlee removes curlers from her hair. She got me in trouble on purpose. Fire fuels me as my eyes meet hers. She will pay for this later.

Promise?She whispers across my mind.

Suggestion weighs heavily on the word, and I don’t block all the ways she wants me to punish her as she imagines them.

“Charlee, of course, you can plan it. We just hadn’t discussed it yet, that”s all.” She huffs and puffs a bit longer, feigning how hurt she is about this whole thing.

Wren reaches over to Charlee, “Oh please, won’t you plan the whole thing with me? Maid of honor, all that good stuff?” She’s good. She’s getting herself out of trouble and giving Charlee her wish all in one go.

Sticking her tongue out at me, she tells Wren, “Absolutely I will. It’s been at least a century since we’ve had a wedding in this coven, and I planned the last one. Everyone had a marvelous time.” This is true, but it was also the twenties, and the bride wasn’t a missing person who is presumed dead.

“Finished,” bursts my sister, wearing a satisfied smile. “Just the dress left, and you’re all set, my dear.” Charlee helps Wren step into a red satin dress that is definitely made to draw attention to the wearer. Clinging to the curves of her body, the hem stops well above the knee, flaring outward, hinting at a peek of what is underneath. The neckline provides an excellent view of her now amplified cleavage. It cut straight across, the built-in bra pulling her breasts close and keeping them there.

Wren looks good enough to eat.

Later.She purrs across my mind.

Charlee excuses herself to finish changing into her outfit for the evening. I hear Rolando go out the front to get the car ready, and I watch Wren study herself in the mirror. I can tell this isn’t exactly her style when wearing a dress, but she does look amazing. I slip my hands onto her hips, sliding them around to rest on her stomach. I lower my mouth to her neck and kiss it gently, just once. “You look fantastic, little bird,” I tell her. “You will have no trouble at all luring a tasty morsel.”

“I’m nervous.” Rightfully so. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t suggest a public feeding, but this particular establishment would have many other vampires if things get out of hand. While humans may be in danger, they won’t be the largest population. If something does go wrong, it is the best place for it to happen.

“I truly think a lot of what happened was a combination of events—not having your memories and not merging with your new consciousness. Having your first human feeding go wrong, then the following human being, someone who abused you, followed by the return of your memories,” In my opinion, all of these events absolve her of any guilt. “I’m sure most vampires in that situation would likely have lost control.”

“I just don’t like that there’s a part of me that’s like a separate entity. She can fight me for control and doesn’t seem to have any moral compass.” I know what she means. Each of us came face to face with a more primal version of ourselves during the change. Theoretically, it’s supposed to be what gives us all of our vampiric instincts and ensures that we survive after we’ve turned. But Wren is right. They don’t feel remorse, and they don’t care about what they do at all as long as it gets done.

Our ultimate selfishness.

Which is why the merge is so essential. We are meant to embrace it during the change. During my transformation it didn’t feel like a choice to me. Speaking with Charlee, Rolando, and everyone in our household, they all say the same thing. We met our worst selves and embraced them with love and light.

Wren hadn’t been herself during the change. It’s the only explanation for it.

“You also know about the bond now. I can help you, bring you back if you slip.” I pull back, slipping my hand into hers. “I will keep you safe, even from yourself,” I vow to her. If I could have her live just on blood bags for the rest of time, I would. Wren nods, takes one last look at herself, and sighs.

“Let’s do this.”

Seeing the surprise on Wren’s face as we pull up to Obsidian is amusing. Of all the places we could be going to tonight, I don’t think a dance club is exactly what she pictured. Our coven owns it, managed and run by vampires for vampires. Humans get in, drink, have a good time, and if one of us wants their blood, we compel them off to the side and take it. The other humans will either be too drunk or enthralled with another vampire looking to do the same thing to them, to take notice of what is happening.

One particularly observant human picked up on it once.

That was an exciting night.

Fortunately, that many vampires meant they were compelled within seconds to remain calm and forget they ever noticed anything.

Wren places her hand in mine as I help her from the car. Vampires are always VIPs, so we bypass the velvet rope that holds off the humans. Now that four more vampires had arrived, they’ll let a few more in. Having a bouncer isn’t to keep the Fire Marshall happy. It is to keep us from being overwhelmed with options. He opens the door, and I lead Wren to her hunting ground.

All vampires can compel humans. According to Charlee, Wren has that under control already. I can still sense her unease about the whole thing, and I find myself deeply wishing I could allow her to feed from me for the rest of eternity. Vampire blood will keep her strong, but it will never fully satisfy the thirst.

The hall inside the door is dark, the sound of music up ahead the only directional indication. Humans will have difficulty seeing, but Wren and I can see the pocket doors tucked into the walls. There is more to this building than we let humans know, other supernatural species need a safe place, and we provide them with it.

When the hallway ends, all I can smell is sweat and blood.

The music is loud and thumping, bodies move in time with the beat, and the bartender keeps the liquor coming. But I’m not looking at any of it. I am watching Wren. She takes it all in. The shock and awe from leaving our quiet little mountain getaway and coming here has rendered her speechless.

“Come dance with me,” I pull her onto the dance floor amid the humans and vampires and press her body to mine. I am behind her, my hands snaking around her waist as we move in rhythm. The lights flash around us, a strobing effect making it look like the crowd is moving in slow motion. All I can smell is her shampoo.

Fucking honeysuckle.

Good gods, she smells like sunshine in the spring. And she is all mine.

Mine.

I can hardly believe the way things have turned out in just three weeks. From a random meeting in the store, a whisper across my mind, her cry for help, to finally finding my mate.

The idea that she wouldn’t feel the same draw to me as I did her ate at me while I watched her change. Usually, one of us would form a bond with our human before turning them. They would want to become like us, if only so they could remain at our sides for eternity.

But she does feel it.

She felt it all along and hadn’t known what to call it or what to do with it.

My fault.

I may have been foolish to miss time with my little bird, but I held to my principles, and she has understood them. She understands me. Some things were carved deep in my soul centuries ago that will never change. Family, chivalry, and honor mean more to me than anything else, and have for so long. I won’t and can’t just give that up for selfish reasons.

So many what-ifs had raced through my mind at the time. Yet, Wren has willingly given herself to me, has she not? She craves me the way I desire her. It is like we have always known each other. Our souls dance when we take each other’s blood and form our minds into one. I worship her entirely. Her soul, her essence, her mind, her body… Oh, her body.

This last week I took it upon myself to explore every inch of Wren’s skin and then some. I knew exactly where to touch to make her squirm or squeal. I’ve tasted her from head to toe, and she bares it all for me. Good God, I could spend the rest of time between her thighs, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

After a few songs have played, Wren finally seems to relax in my arms.

There are a fair amount of vampires here tonight, all seeking the same thing. Each staking a claim when they find a soul they deem particularly delectable. Speaking of delectable, I turn and pull Wren to my chest, crushing my lips to hers. Her nearness is enough to stir my arousal. I grumble and pull away.

There would be enough time for me later. Right now, I need them to see her.

I need them to look.

A goddess graces their presence, and she hungers for their attention. She longs for their blood.

I press my lips to her temple. “I’m going to fade into the crowd. Just keep dancing, my love. Someone will approach before long. If biting them would please you, whisper to me, and I will help you from there.”

Her arms wrap around my neck. “How do I know if I can control her?”

The inner vampire, the primal force that sometimes takes Wren over and, in all her wild nature, has taken two lives now. “She is a part of you, my love. Do not fear her. You are meant to be one, but you were here first. She is an extension, and you have the power.”

With that, I part from her, shrinking into the shadows to watch.

Teaching new vampires to hunt isn’t difficult, but watching Wren try to coerce a human close enough to her is hard for me. I know it won’t take too long, and if it does, we will have a lesson in fast food.

A man approaches her, his eyes coveting what is not his.

I watch as she breathes him in deeply. I can tell this isn’t the human she seeks. She turns her back on him, dancing away.

Surprised at being refused, the man seethes. I reach a thought out, willing him to look my way. Proximity is essential to compulsion when you are new. My seven centuries and then some are enough to get this mortal to look at me from across the room.

His eyes flash to mine, and I can pinpoint the moment fear creeps down his backbone. Instead of pursuing Wren as he wants to, he turns away and retreats to his friends again.

I seek her out in the crowd once more. Unable to stop a sharp intake of breath when, to my surprise, I find her dancing with another man. Red colors the room as I am filled with the strong urge to rip him limb from limb.

Please don’t kill him. He smells tasty…

Rage simmers with annoyance and jealousy as my mate’s words cross my mind. This is the one she thirsts for. I examine him, trying to discern her type. His eyes are kinder than the last one. He seems unsure of himself, like he only worked up the courage because he had encouragement.

I smiled at him.

I begin crossing the room to them. Of course she did.

She could sense his goodness and gave him a welcoming smile.

No doubt it dazzled him until he had to ask her to dance with him—poor fool. I drink in her form with my eyes. He isn’t wrong, though. She is stunning. The flashing lights of the club change her color with them. Each shift seems to reveal a different piece of her beauty.

A thought reaches out to her, ready to guide her through the next part. Compel him to follow you and bring him into the shadows with me.

Determination settles on her features, giving her a fierce look, like a warrior. I watch as she licks her lips and stares into the soul of the man before her. He stops moving to the music, enraptured by her beguilement. He is lost in her stare. I see her lips form the words, “Come with me.”

Her hand clasps his arm, guiding him, his bewitched feet willingly obeying her commands.

First try? Charlee was right. Impressive.

Rolando had done just as well three hundred and some odd years ago. I want to take credit as a fantastic teacher, but I only guided him in compulsion, and he was a natural. Some vampires are just gifted in the art of beguiling humans. I think it has something to do with how charismatic they are in life.

Finally reaching me, I grin at the prideful look on her face. Smug. We are hidden at the edge of the room.

“Now, when you find where you’d like to feed from, listen closely to his heart. Keep your concentration and pull until his heartbeat starts to slow, and then stop.” I lend her my expertise, hoping it would give her a much-needed anchor to focus on.

Worry pinches her perfect face. “What if I can’t stop again?”

I brush her hair behind her ear, allowing my hand to graze her cheek as I do so. “You’ll be able to stop. And if you struggle this time, I’m here to help you.”

I watch as she searches for her mark. As she breathes him in, I am reminded of a dog circling on a bed. She passes the same spots once, twice, three times. She is finding it difficult to pick. Nostrils flaring, her eyes snap open as she settles on the right place. I am not surprised in the least when she locks eyes on his neck.

Necks are juicy, and the blood flows nicely.

I watch as she poises her mouth against this man’s skin. How I long to rip him from her and string him up as a warning to others that Wren is mine. Forcing myself to accept that she is feeding and this is just sustenance, I bury the impulse to kill this man. Her beautiful fangs penetrate him, a small amount of blood dribbling from the punctures, escaping before her lips can close the seal against his flesh.

Her eyes roll back into her head as she drinks deeply. I can feel the joy he brings her. I take the man’s hand and raise his wrist to my lips, sinking my fangs in, allowing the tiniest trickle to flow into my mouth. I don’t need to feed from him, but I will monitor his pulse for my lovely mate.

A moan escapes her mouth as she pulls deeper still. The man’s eyes flutter with pleasure. He is tall and houses enough blood for her to fill herself nicely. This makes me glad, if only so I don’t have to watch this happen again tonight.

After a few minutes, I feel his pulse slow, and his heart skips a beat. I pull his wrist from my mouth and watch to see if she realizes the time has come. “Wren,” I say softly, touching her shoulder when she doesn’t stop.

Slapping it away, she growls at me.

I force my thoughts into her head. She will hear my words, whether her blood lust wants her to or not.

Wren, that’s enough.

She ignores me, clasping her arms more tightly around her human. Ice fills me as I realize this man is in danger.

I can see Charlee and Rolando against the far wall, alert, ready to help if needed.

He’s finished, his pulse is slowing, he’s dying.

A moan escapes her lips, and she grips him tighter still. I have to put some depth behind my words.

STOP!

I shout in her mind this time.

Her fangs release the man, who crumples to the floor as her eyes flare to mine in anger. I kneel over the man, listening to his heart. He has been drained far too much, but he will live. I use my blood to seal his wounds. Before I can leave him, I need to have him drink some of my blood. He won’t turn if he doesn’t die, and this will help him replenish himself, plus ease any suspicion about the events of the evening.

Biting my wrist, I allow my blood to pour into his mouth. He drinks gleefully. I doubt this is the first time someone drank too deeply from him. He craves my blood like he’s had it before. It certainly hasn’t been my blood he consumed. I pull my wrist from his lips when he’s had enough. Turning to see my beautiful lover, I can only see the predator within her. Shuddering, I take in how she still stares at the man with hunger.

So ferocious is my bride.

Prying the man’s eyelids open, I force him to look me in the eye. It is no easy feat, as he still suffers from the effects of blood loss. I pull his humanity into me and take control of it. “You drank something that you think was laced with drugs. You will spend tomorrow in bed, sleeping it off. You will not remember me or my companion.” I allow his soul’s focus to retreat into the safety of his mind.

I rise from Wren’s would-be victim and face her again. Apprehension flies through me.

Her glare has moved from the man to me.

Companion?

The question comes across my mind and is filled with her ire. Oh, she doesn’t like that particular term of endearment at all.

“You may call me your little bird, your dear, your love, your mate…” each term is drenched with acid as she tries to intimidate me. I am brave enough to admit it’s working. “But you will never reduce me to a companion again.” Unsure how strong the clutches of the other Wren are, I nod, an easy thing to give. I probe into her mind and sense it is still her raw form driving right now.

That human is lucky to be alive.

My compliance seems satisfactory as she pushes me into the wall, pressing herself into me, her hands roving over my body. Indeed, I am somewhat frightened by the love of my life, but that does nothing to deter my arousal of having her body so near mine. The feeling of my cock swelling with want and need feels good as she explores me, grinding her body against mine.

Here?

Now?

One thing is certain when Wren’s other self is in control, she usually gets what she wants. I’ve already deprived her of a death, and I don’t think I’ll get so lucky with another refusal. I am still surprised that she listened and stopped. Something I am grateful for because Wren would probably refuse to eat from a human again for a month, at least, if she had killed him.

As you wish. I let my words gently embrace her this time.

My new mate wants a good fucking after her dinner? Then who am I to deny her? We are perfectly concealed in these shadows, save for the pathetic, beguiled human on the floor beside us. I can sense at least five other couples around the room doing the same thing.

My hands grasp the cheeks of her ass and turn around, pinning her to the wall instead. She moans and wriggles as I free myself from the cloth prison of my slacks. I grasp at her mound next, shoving her panties to the side. I can feel her wetness for me, her desire to be controlled. She needs her mate to fill her up and keep her in check.

Positioning myself at the hot entrance of her slick cunt I look deeply into her eyes. She is still wild, not quite in control of herself. “Forgive me,” I whisper, hoping my Wren will return soon. Nails dig into my shoulders, enough to draw blood. The pain is electrifying, and I slam myself into her warm wet sex. This won’t be gentle, and this isn’t meant to be romantic. This isn’t lovemaking, it”s rutting.

I am able to glide in and out of her sweet hole with ease. I groan as I fill her, pounding myself deep within her, giving her my entire length. I plow into her, crushing her to the stone wall behind her. She whimpers and moans in my ear, biting down on my shoulder, and muffling her cries.

No one can hear us over the music except maybe a few vampires. And if they do, they certainly won’t care what my mate and I are doing. I pump myself in and out of her juicy cunt, relishing how her muscles clench against me, desperately hoping to keep me within her for eternity. My hips buck and roll, and I began grinding myself into her with each thrust, stimulating her clit.

Her cries grow louder as her body breaks around me. I feel her hips moving back against me as Wren desperately reaches her peak. She throws her head back as she cries in pleasure, getting the release she craves, letting it sweep over her as my cock slams into her with reckless abandon. Using only one hand to support her, trusting that the wall I have her pressed into will do the rest, I pin her neck against it. A fire burns in her eyes, but this time it is the fire of passion, not rage.

I fuck her through her orgasm, driving myself to the edge of madness as I do. But I want to look my love in her eyes. She may have decided to use me to satisfy her other hunger after feeding, but that doesn’t mean I will let her get away with using me like a sex toy.

I cut off her air supply. Her delicate neck feels so breakable in my hand. Of course, she doesn’t need air, but it startles her at first. I can see fear flash in her eyes briefly before realizing I am her mate and there is no way I will hurt her. No, this is about dominating that force in her. I made her a vampire and I will not let this version of Wren take over. I stretch and fill her so completely that she will bend to my will.

Mine, forever.

Another wave of ecstasy takes hold of her body as I feel her tight little cunt ripple around me. She screams soundlessly, and her wetness drenches me as I fuck her. Seeing her like this is too much and my thrusts are too fast. If she had been human still, I would have broken her frail body with the sheer force of me.

With a last buck of my hips, I feel the release I’ve been seeking. My cock pulses and twitches inside her, filling her with my seed. The final moments of her climax tugging and pulling at me, walls pulsing in pleasure. I kiss her mouth hard and release her throat.

I don’t want to leave her. No, I want to harden while still inside of her and fuck her raw.

Glancing around, I know this isn’t the time. I only gave her this because of the dark version of herself that has yet to merge with her mind. She is still trying to keep her control, and if I don’t give her what she wants, she will take it, likely in the middle of the dance floor. Pulling from her, I stuff myself back into my pants and lower Wren gently so her feet can touch the floor again. She fixes herself, and I notice her eyes look back to normal. My Wren is in control again.

I kiss her temple and whisper, “Let’s go home, my love.” She nods, still trapped in the afterglow. I help guide her out of the club, down the street, and back to where the car is parked. Rolando and Charlee are already waiting for us so we can go to the safe house. None of us fed. The only purpose of tonight, is for Wren to learn how to feed and for the human to walk away.

Our goal is an apartment building a few doors down from Charlee’s shop. The tiny five-story building is a property we maintain for sporadic use. I lead Wren to the top floor, but she grows heavy against me when we get there. Opening the door, I gather her into my arms. The sun is still an hour from rising, but she’s had quite the evening.

Laying her gently on the bed, I remove her shoes and clothing as well as my own. Nestling in beside her, entwining my body with hers, I watch the rise and fall of her breasts as she takes deep breaths in her sleep.

I fall asleep thinking that one day I will lose myself in her body and never surface. This brings about the most beautiful dreams I’ve ever had.