Chapter 24

PORTER

It's hard to focus with Cassius circling Anita like she's his next meal. His unblinking stare would unnerve even the strongest man, but not her. Despite spending all night with Stryker and Soren, her pupils flare in interest when he nears. She subconsciously leans toward him every time he passes, as if seeking his attention.

I tighten my grip around the cup to keep myself from yanking her away, wanting to protect her, but that wouldn't be fair to either of them.

His fascination borders on obsession. For the first time since we met at MID, he's finally opening up to someone. If she's taken away now, he will never allow it to happen again.

I want us to have a future, something to look forward to after all the darkness we face hunting the worst of the worst. We need something to work toward.

None of us agreed upon anything…until now.

Until her.

A mate.

I bite my tongue, leaving his courtship to them, and focus on the best way to protect Anita. Because if we can't save her, we'll lose ourselves to the darkness and become the monsters everyone fears.

Anita grimaces at my comment about demons, then she nods and flashes me a wry grin. "That sounds like my family."

"The closer we get to your birthday, the stronger your powers will grow. Your fangs are proof of that." I subtly shift in my seat, recalling her dainty fangs, and I mentally sigh when my cock hardens predictably.

After their late-night marathon, I just got it to deflate.

It's painful to be so hard for so long without any relief but my own hand. I've never touched myself so much, not even when I was a teenager. My poor dick is so tender, the press of my zipper into my abused flesh is agony.

Anita swallows the food in her mouth, then nervously clears her throat before meeting my gaze. "Do all beastlings have fangs?"

She sweeps her tongue over her teeth, then freezes as if she did something wrong. I can only imagine how confused she must feel about being raised as a mage, only to discover everything was a lie.

"Demons might be a little different, but all beastlings have fangs." I keep my voice soft so as not to spook her. "Some of us are able to hide them until we need them, while others have a more permanent set. It often depends on the species and how aggressive our animal side is."

I smile at her, then allow my fangs to lengthen.

She jolts, her eyes widening, and I brace myself for her fear.

"Some beastlings are bred to be pets, their fangs and claws blunted, while others are bred to kill." I swallow hard, then force myself to continue. It's best that she learns what I am now. I don't want to get any more invested if she's going to run.

Unfortunately, I fear it might already be too late.

If she flees, I'm not sure I'll be able to let her go.

Heart thumping against my ribs, I force myself to say the words that could irrevocably change my future. "My fangs are long and thick, created to tear out throats. My claws are diamond edged and can slice through anything. I was born and raised in the shadows, a boogeyman to mages and beastlings alike."

As I wait for her reaction, I realize I'm not breathing, terrified I would taste her fear. If she's smart, she should fear me, yet a tiny part of me wants just one person on this planet not to be afraid of what I am.

My shadows race across the room and sink into my skin, as if trying to make me appear as human as possible. When my lungs scream for air, and I can't hold my breath any longer, I inhale lightly through my mouth and brace myself for the worse.

Instead of the bitter taste of her terror, my mouth fills with a light citrus tang of curiosity and what could almost be mistaken for…lust?

"And where do you think I fall on that list?" Anita peers down at her fingers, as if searching for claws.

My eyebrows shoot up at her complete lack of fear, and it takes a moment for my brain to process her question. "You…uh…demons come in many forms. While all beastlings have some demonic blood, not all demons are actual beastlings. Their demonic form is considered the ultimate predator."

A grimace twists her features, and she looks away, swallowing hard. "I'm a half-breed. All other mages that have even a drop of demon blood eventually becomes a vampire. Will that be my fate?"

Her voice is so soft that I barely catch it. Unable to resist touching her, I reach across the table and grab her hand. "A vampire is no more a monster than a beastling. It's all about controlling your baser instincts."

"And if I can't?" She doesn't lift her gaze from where my hand covers hers. "While walking in the forest yesterday, Darby was kind enough to loan me his tablet so I could read about vampires. They're considered a scourge, feeding off the living to survive. I don't want to live like that."

"You won't." I squeeze her hand, not saying anything else, waiting for her to look up at me. "We won't let that happen. Since you were born with your demon heritage, chances are you will emerge as a beastling or pure demon."

She releases a shuddering breath, not looking any more at ease with my answer, then nods. "I'll hold you to your word. You'll kill me before I turn into a monster."

My heart constricts at the thought of anything happening to her, and my muscles lock up tight.

Kill her?

Fuck no!

I'd rather see the world crumble first. Ignoring the way Cassius is doing his best to murder me with his glare, I give Anita the only promise I can. "No matter what happens, we'll never leave your side. If you need blood, you'll feed from us. You won't ever turn into a monster. You have my word."

The point is moot anyway.

She can drain the world for all the fucks I give.

She will never be a monster in my eyes, so killing her will never be an option.

ANITA

Isag in relief, the swirling, sick feeling in my stomach fading a little at the thought of becoming a vampire. I'm not afraid of ending a person's life if they need to be killed. The world we live in is full of predators of the worst kind, and my family is a prime example.

Sometimes, we need monsters to kill monsters.

If that's what it takes to stop my family, then it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

I fought my whole life not to be like them, and I won't start now.

The guys will make sure I don't cross any lines.

If I turn evil, they will stop me.

To my surprise, the thought of drinking blood isn't as repulsive as I expected. In fact, my gums ache at the thought of feeding from the men, my body heating at the temptation of sinking my fangs into them.

Vampires are supposed to be blood crazy, but thinking of taking blood from anyone else has my stomach curdling and bile rising in my throat.

Nope, not happening.

I'd rather starve than feed from anyone else.

Vampires can become addicted to the high of consuming too much blood. Most vampires are fine until they take a life. When that happens, vampires go feral, something about taking the last drop from a person's beating heart being toxic. The high they get turns into a craving for more, but no blood is ever enough.

Thankfully, Porter is one of the top predators in the world. If the worst happened, and I turned feral, he would stop me from hurting the guys or anyone else. Reassured by his promise, I roll my shoulders and allow the tension creeping up my spine since I learned of my hybrid status to drop away. It's like a weight has been lifted from my soul.

Soren's comment about demons drinking blood during sex as an aphrodisiac makes more and more sense. Feeling lighter, I shove a couple of bites of food in my mouth before getting down to business. "Any ideas on how you want to proceed with my family?"

Porter's eyebrows shoot up, humor warming his burnt orange irises. "You trust me to organize the plan?"

My fork pauses halfway to my mouth, and I gaze up at him from under my brows. "You know the men and their skills better than me. I won't risk their lives on something as stupid as pride."

The twinkle in his eyes dim, his expression turning serious. Shadows slowly peel off the dark skin of his neck and arms, giving the impression that his form wouldn't actually have a shape if he didn't command it.

He bows slightly, a nod of respect, the big beast of a man looking almost humble. "Thank you for your trust. I won't abuse it."

I purse my lips to keep myself from panting at his unintended smolder, glad I have nothing in my mouth, or I would have choked.

Holy sexy beasts, Batman!

It takes me a moment to gather my wits, then my lips quirk at his seriousness, and I shrug. "Oh, don't worry. If you betray me, I'll wear your balls as earings."

He smirks, then his body shifts in a subtle way that goes from serious to sexy, and I'm not sure I'm even breathing as I squirm in my seat. "If you want to play with my balls, all you have to do is ask."

I blink once, then twice, unsure that I heard him correctly. Heat burns my cheeks, and I wish I could say it was out of embarrassment, but that would be a lie. I'm tempted to call his bluff, but a touch of doubt lingers at the back of my mind.

I don't think he's joking.

Dirty flirting is the last thing I expected from their staid leader. He's always so serious that I don't remember if he's ever cracked a smile.

For someone who spent the night in bed with two other men, I shouldn't like his attention so much. When he relaxes, he's almost a different person. His eyes flick over my clothing, and a cute little smirk brightens his expression. "I'm glad they fit."

"You've been picking out my clothes," I murmur, absently reaching down to touch my jeans. There is something intimate about wearing clothes a man chose for you.

That he was able to guess my exact size without knowing my measurements is pure witchcraft. Either he is a lucky guesser, or he spent more time watching me than I realized. It should be a big turnoff, almost an invasion of privacy, but something about the care he took in picking out the clothes makes me feel special instead.

"Thank you." I push away my plate, then rest my arms on the table, curiosity getting the best of me. "How were you able to find anything out in the middle of nowhere? Much less something that would fit?"

He removes one of his hands from his cup and lifts it into the air.

One second, he is solid, the next, his hand dissolves into inky smoke. "My shadows are more than a way to disappear into the darkness."

My eyes widen in awe at his abilities, then I frown and tilt my head to the side. "If you can appear and disappear through the shadows, why did we stay here last night?"

Wiggling his fingers, his shadows take solid form again, and he shrugs. "Though my abilities are stronger at night, they are still limited. I've trained myself to bring people with me when I jump, but I'm only able to travel short distances. We were safer here, where we had shelter, than me jumping us short distances all night long."

"So you didn't get any rest last night?" I frown in concern, only now noticing how tired he appears. Bruises of different shades dot his body, ranging between deep black, dark purple, and vivid reds—injuries that he got from defending me—and I scowl at him. "I don't like that you went off alone without anyone to watch your back."

Stryker and Soren stroll out of the bedroom behind me.

"She's right." Soren kisses the top of my head, then walks toward the sideboard and loads up a plate, not stopping until things begin to slide off it.

Stryker kisses my temple. When he straightens, his eyes drop to my plate, and he scowls. Without a word, he grabs the dish and puts even more food on it before placing it prominently in front of me once again.

When I don't immediately grab it, he nudges it toward me. To appease him, I take a piece of bacon and nibble on it. Soren sits beside me, notices the bacon, then promptly shoves all the bacon off his plate onto mine.

I blink at the full plate in front of me and the two dozen pieces of bacon piled on top, and my heart turns gooey in my chest at their thoughtfulness. After a childhood where I wasn't guaranteed a meal every day, being offered food means more to me than they could know.

With a smile, I pick up another piece of bacon and take a big bite.

For some reason, it's even tastier than before.

Porter shrugs, drawing my attention. "It needed to be done. I was the only one who could make it to town to get us a truck and supplies."

He loops his fingers into the handle of his mug, taking a sip as he peers at me over the rim. Only after he sets it back down does he speak again. "Gwen is out patrolling now. Darby stayed up late digging up building schematics, creating aliases, gathering weapons and supplies, and setting up a meeting with your family. Cassius kept watch last night, while the three of you…rested."

The silence in the room is deafening, and I cringe, torn between embarrassment and annoyance for being publicly called out. It's all I can do not to duck away, my face burning. While everyone was doing something important, I was off fucking.

But I can do something now.

I scowl at his coffee, click my tongue, then reach over and take it away. "No more coffee. You need food."

I stand and prepare him a plate. When I can't fit any more food on it, I realize that I've just been delaying the inevitable. With a sigh, I turn and set it down in front of him. Before I can scurry away, he grabs my wrist, and my attention snaps to his face.

"Don't run," he speaks softly, his voice for my ears alone. "You did nothing wrong. They are your mates, and you shouldn't be ashamed of being with them. Finding a mate is rare. It can often take a lifetime." He slowly releases my wrist, his thumb brushing the delicate underside before pulling away. "They are lucky sons of bitches."

Before I can formulate a response, Darby tromps down the stairs, running his hand through his normally smooth hair. It's messy and unkempt, giving him a freshly rolled out of bed after a night of rough sex look.

Yummy!

"Um," I say like an idiot, my brain stuttering as I struggle to get my libido under control, and I quickly turn away. "I'll get you a plate."

Now that I'm not looking at him, I'm able to breathe normally again.

"Tell us what you discovered," Porter demands between bites.

Darby shuffles to a stop near the island, then grunts when Cassius offers him a cup of coffee. Without speaking, he guzzles the steaming mug without flinching. When it's gone, he lifts his head and blinks in surprise at finding the entire room staring at him.

He looks exhausted, and my heart pangs at everything he's doing to keep me safe.

When I slide a plate toward him, he gives me an owlish blink, then throws me a grateful smile. Without bothering to take a seat, he digs into his meal like he hasn't eaten in days. It's only after he's taken a few bites that he lifts his head and speaks. "The meeting is set up for tonight at nine."

He flicks a concerned glance my way, and I do my best not to freak the fuck out at the thought of being sent back to my family.

Determined that this will be the last time, I lift my chin.

After tonight, either they will be dead…or I will be.