Her Vampire Husband (24 page)

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Authors: Michele Hauf

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The torn silver abraded her flesh, but did not draw blood thanks to the leather lining. What silver could do
to a werewolf—Oh, Ryan. She’d watched her lover die tonight, unfeeling and almost relieved.

Creed kissed her free wrist, imprinting his warmth on her skin as if a brand. Clasping it to his cheek, he held her there, safe and loved. She shuddered at the tender touch.

A kiss to her mouth stole her breath.
Take it all,
she wanted to say.
Take me into you and protect me.

He bent and broke the other shackle, and again he kissed her wrist, tendering the bruise carefully. Blu slid her fingers through his hair, madly relieved to have him here.

“How did you find me?”

“Your blood was outside and on the steps. I’m going to kill any wolf who has caused you to bleed, I vow that.”

A thank-you was all she could manage. She was too weak, and getting weaker. Her father’s men would not think twice about killing Creed. They were likely looking for him right now.

“Can you walk?”

“If I can shift, I can lead us out of here. I’ll have more energy in wolf shape.”

“Shh.”

With a staying touch to her shoulder, Creed stood and pressed his back to the wall. He loomed over her, Wolfsbane held before him with two hands.

Then she heard it. Footsteps clattered down the hallway,
followed by a menacing voice. “Your loverboy is coming for a kiss, Princess!”

Diaz. Let the vampire take care of his nasty ass. She had more important things to manage.

Blu groaned and pushed herself onto all fours. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the shift, safe in knowing Creed would take care of the wolf. As her body began to change, her fur was spattered with Diaz’s blood.
A
head rolled to the edge of the straw.

Blu yipped as the shift ended. Gossamer fabric puddled beneath her four paws and a blob of blue wig lay nearby. Now in wolf shape, she was only half-sure of the tall man standing over her.

Friend or enemy?

W
HEN A WERE SHIFTED
to animal shape, Creed knew they only partially possessed their human mind. It was similar to when she’d shifted to werewolf shape the other night.

A long-legged wolf with fur so black it gleamed blue stood before him. Was that the reason for her name? he wondered. She was gorgeous. The darkest fur outlined her eyes and muzzle. Her canines were brilliant against the darkness.

He remained still so as not to scare her. They must both be sure of the other.

She sniffed at the were’s decapitated head, licked the
blood, then snarled and backed from the thing. Whining, the wolf bowed her head and stepped aside. She wiped a forepaw over her muzzle, as if to clean away the nasty blood.

Creed couldn’t know if she would see him holding the bloody sword and immediately place him as an enemy. Did the animal form of Blu know what swords were? Or did she merely mark the world by scent, and the form standing there was taller and towered over her, so he must be feared?

He glanced down the hallway toward the stairs. They had little time before the rest of the wolves realized what was happening and came down to investigate.

“Hey, lover,” he called to her as he carefully put out a hand and squatted before her.

If he could put himself at eye level with her, she may not deem him a threat. He set the sword behind him. He’d once faced her werewolf. This could prove more harrowing though because she was completely animal now. Her instincts about him could be different than when she was half woman.

“Blu, do you know me?”

The wolf growled lowly, baring her teeth. Obsidiandark ears flicked back against her head. Lowering her head and sniffing, she then snapped her head up, sniffing the air curiously.

“I’m your husband,” he offered. “I love you.”

He extended his arm, tilting his palm up and opening his fingers.

Please, Blu, know me.

Cautious, the wolf stepped forward. She growled and barked. Creed wanted to shush her, but dared not.

Surely her bark had alerted the others. It took remarkable control not to grab her and dash out of here. The wolf could rip him to shreds with her teeth.

Sniffing, she dragged her nose to the tips of his fingers. Wary gray eyes dashed to his, then down. Her wet nose moved across his palm and wrist.

Creed held his breath. Perhaps his heart stopped. The world grew still. Nothing mattered but the two of them.

He had to get her out of here. They would treat her as an animal. No one would put his wife in chains ever again.

Face-to-face, she sniffed at his jaw. She had to scent the wolf and vampire blood on his bare chest. But then, the wolf’s tongue lashed out and licked him on the face. She pounced on him, paws to his shoulders and licked him on the cheeks, nose and forehead.

“Okay, okay, I think I passed muster.” He ruffled his fingers through her silken fur. “My gorgeous werewolf princess. Did I mention how much I love your natural hair color? Or rather fur?”

She licked his nose, then bounded playfully and yipped.

“Quiet, lover.” He gestured down the hallway. “Can you lead us out of here?”

She scampered into the hall and looked back to him. A wag of her tail spoke volumes.

Creed grabbed Wolfsbane. “Right behind you.”

He kept her pace as she loped the dark twisting halls. The entire compound was constructed from cement, a windowless and seemingly endless labyrinth. It reeked of mildew, which made it difficult for Creed to scent anything beyond that. He would rely on the wolf’s keen nose.

Blu paused and growled. Stepping nervously, she looked to him. She must sense danger, or smell others of her kind. She signaled him with a high-pitched whine.

“I got it. Stay right here.”

Just ahead, the hall turned a corner. Ruffling his palm over her head as he passed, Creed took the darkness carefully, knowing he would not see the threat until it was too late.

Ahead he sensed one frantic heartbeat. The were had to smell him. Would it be in four-legged wolf shape when Creed turned the corner or as the ferocious werewolf?

A werewolf would not be so quiet and stealth. It would have charged him by now.

Lunging forward, Creed swung Wolfsbane and it found a solid target. The man had no time to howl. Still in human form, the body split from shoulder to hip, it collapsed.

Creed stepped over the carnage. Blu sniffed at the body, stepping wide to avoid the rapidly pooling blood. A growl revealed her fangs. She snapped at the fallen wolf, then passed him by and loped ahead.

She pawed at the steel door, her claws scraping the old paint job, whining to get out.

“You and me both,” he said. “This leads outside?”

Blu yipped.

Creed kicked the door down.

A werewolf lunged inside, fixing its talons into his chest, and slicing his ribs neatly.

Creed choked on the blood rising in his throat. He slammed the beast against the wall. Blu latched on to its leg, tearing at the sinuous muscle. It provided a distraction Creed needed. A slash of Wolfsbane opened the creature’s chest.

Creed patted Blu on the head. “One point for you, wolf.”

She shook her head, flicking off blood. A yip accepted the battle point.

Outside, the grounds were clear. Deceptively so. Blu did not pause, only took off across the midnight-dark field, but angled toward the edge of a forest that backed the property.

“I’m right behind you,” he muttered, clutching his bleeding chest. His ribs had taken a beating lately.

Gasping for breath, Creed took off at a run. Half a
mile later, he charged to a halting stop at the top of the roadside ditch.

Blu waited, stepping anxiously at his arrival, and yipping a greeting.

He nodded down the gravel road. “There’s my car.”

The rangy howls of an angry pack quickened his steps. He reached the car, opening the passenger door to let in Blu. She leaped inside and he slammed the door shut. Sliding across the hood to his side, Creed shoved the sword inside and fired up the engine.

Something landed on the roof, denting it above the passenger seat. Blu yipped and pawed at the cloth ceiling.

The pack circled the car, in four-legged wolf shape, all of them.

Whatever crouched on top was much bigger.

Creed slammed a foot on the accelerator, clearing wolves as the car charged ahead, and spewing gravel from the spinning tires. Above them metal creaked. Blu barked louder and more frantically.

He wanted to put some distance between them and the pack but before he could the windshield shattered as the roof was peeled from the car like the top of a tuna can. Accelerating to sixty, Creed shouted for Blu to get down on the floor.

Somehow she understood, tucking herself under the dashboard and curling her head against her body.

The roof flew away.

Creed slammed on the brakes, and the werewolf that had taken off the roof soared onto the gravel road in front of the car, rolling over and over.

He grabbed Wolfsbane. “Stay inside.”

Stepping on the seat, he was halfway through the roof when the werewolf landed in a crouched position on the hood.
A
fearsome growl preceded a slash of talon. It cut open Creed’s cheek. He swallowed blood.

A
swing of the battle sword stretched the muscles at his shoulder and biceps. Hot blood spattered his face and neck. Blu barked madly, pouncing on the seat and whining.

He hated that she had to see the carnage, but he could do nothing about it.

After returning to the driver’s seat, he rocked the car to remove the halved werewolf from the hood. It was remarkable the engine still turned over for the healthy dent in the hood.

“I’m sorry.” He peeled from the gravel road and onto a main highway. “
I
didn’t mean to kill your lover outside the ballroom. It was an accident.”

She barked, yet wagged her tail.

“We’re home free. For now.”

C
REED SLOWED AS THEY
passed his estate. Flames lit up the sky. Three fire trucks parked along the outer gates,
and another had parked inside on the cobbled driveway. Heavy streams of water sprayed onto the property but did little against the flames.

He couldn’t feel much sadness for the loss. The only thing that mattered to him sat on the passenger seat, transformed to human were shape, huddled under a suit jacket he’d scavenged from the backseat.

Cruising slowly by, he took an abrupt turn to avoid the police car ahead. He wore no shirt, was covered in blood, and a naked woman sat beside him. To top it off, there was no roof on the car.

The officer gave his tattered wreck of a car a double take, but then turned to the more important job.

It had begun. And if the werewolves wanted a war, he would give them one.

S
HE STIRRED AS HE LIFTED
her into his arms and carried her to the parking garage elevator. After washing off the blood using a chamois from the trunk, Creed had gone inside the hotel to rent a suite, and now he returned for Blu with his suit coat.

Clutching him fiercely, she shuddered, naked beneath the coat. “Has it begun?”

“Yes,” he answered staunchly.

“Don’t let it happen,” she whispered weakly. “Please, Creed. For us.”

He swallowed the need to shout to the heavens, to demand explanation for this insane battle. To beg to turn back the clock and leave that damned silver-loaded ring at home.

And to never have to find his wife in chains.

Now all she asked was that he stop what he wanted to rush head-on into. He wanted to take werewolf heads from their necks with a slash of Wolfsbane until their blood flowed like a river.

Blu shuddered again. “I love you. I know you’ll make things right.”

And there it was.

He could no more draw Wolfsbane against the enemy than he could set down this gorgeous princess and walk away from her right now.

“I will make this right,” he vowed.

And this vow he would honor.

Chapter Twenty

C
REED MADE CALLS ALL
through the early-morning hours while Blu slept. He connected with every Council member he could think of who would have the vampires on their side.

He didn’t want to exclude a werewolf representative; there were simply none currently standing on the Council who made themselves available.

He was learning. He had to control his anger toward the werewolves and find less violent means to handle that aggression. Whatever the Council asked of him, he would now do without ulterior motives. It was what had been originally expected of him.

But more so, he just wanted to prove himself to Blu. How could she love him when he relished killing her kind? Blu had seeped into his pores and under his skin.
Just being in her presence changed the air around him and made him want to be better. And he would do so.

Alexandre had successfully gathered the remaining Nava members—two had been murdered at last night’s banquet—and they convened right now across the city.

The order was rapidly spreading for the vampires to stand down. They were not to make a move until the Council could be brought in. Yet Creed tensed with the need to avenge his fallen tribe members.

Now he stalked the penthouse suite, shades drawn against the noon sun. His fists coiled in a permanent clench. Those bastard wolves!

With a glance to the sofa, where a swath of sheer violet fabric had been abandoned, he was reminded of the wolf lying in the bedroom, and his anger ebbed.

Do it for her. Change. You can be better.

He wondered if he should wake Blu up. She normally didn’t sleep so long. Yet she had been put through a lot. He hoped the silver shackles he’d torn away from her wrists would not have a lasting effect on her body.

He would take the invisible magical shackles over and over again to save Blu from any discomfort.

The penthouse elevator rang, and he buzzed in the guests from a control box on the kitchen counter.

“Lord Saint-Pierre, long time, no see,” Nikolaus Drake said as he strode without grandeur into the room.

Behind him a short, slender woman in motorcycle leathers and dark sunglasses nodded acknowledgment and sauntered in.

“My wife, Ravin,” Drake said.

“We’ve met,” Ravin said with a sneer. She tucked her shades in the front pocket of her leather jacket. “Sixteenth century, wasn’t it?”

“About then,” Creed replied. “Long time, no see.”
Witch.
But he’d moved beyond prejudices. Though he sensed she might still hold a grudge.

“Still wielding magic?” she asked.

“I was just shackled last night.”

“Serves you right,” the witch said on a sneer.

“It is difficult to resist the urge to use magic at times,” Nikolaus added, much surprising Creed.

He and Nikolaus both possessed magic. Creed had stolen it; Nick had drunk his wife’s blood—accidentally, of course. And then after he died from her blood, he rose like a phoenix. He was now one of the strongest vampires alive, if you didn’t count his son, Ivan.

Creed still held the record for oldest.

“But you always resist,” Ravin said to her husband.

“I’m pleased you’ve come on such short notice,” Creed said. “No doubt, you are aware of what’s gone down.”

“Reports say the fight began when you killed a
werewolf.” Drake eyed him fiercely. “I thought we’d come to terms about this, Saint-Pierre.”

“We have. You can trust me, Drake. What happened last night was self-defense and pure accident,” Creed offered. “I was wearing a ring with liquid silver in it. I hadn’t expected it to break.”

“Yeah?” Ravin looked him up and down. “Then why wear such a thing?”

“It was my wedding ring, given to me by my werewolf bride as a show of trust. She, in turn, wears a ring with witch’s blood inside. From before the Protection.”

“Don’t the wolves realize that blood has no effect on you?”

Creed shrugged. “It could cripple my magic, or maybe increase it. Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? Listen, here are the facts. The Northern pack is on a rampage against the vampires. My man in charge has secured the Nava tribe, but there are others out there still unaware. We’re trying to contain the outbreak but I feel it’ll quickly widen through the city. The wolves are relentless.”

“News of the attack has spread like wildfire,” Drake added. “Wolves in California and New York have already begun attacking vampires.”

The witch said snidely, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it hops the continent before evening.”

“Christ.” Creed swiped a hand across his jaw. “This marriage was supposed to be a means to bring the nations together.”

The witch slapped her arms across her chest. “Good going, longtooth.”

“Ravin,” her husband admonished.

“What? Just because I married a vampire and gave birth to one doesn’t mean I have to like all of them.”

“I’ve given you no means to favor me,” Creed assured her.

He faulted no witch the right to hate him. After all, he was responsible for their suffering so many centuries ago.

“Truth is,” Creed said to Ravin, “tribe Nava went into this alliance with ulterior motives. I was to play the loving husband, convince the wolves we could get along with their kind, and see them lay down arms first. Then we intended to attack.”

Ravin whistled lowly and looked to her husband. “How come I didn’t hear about this?”

“We just found out about it,” her husband said. “Creed has agreed not to go through with the attack.”

“Sorry.” Creed offered a head bow to Ravin. “We purposely made sure no Council members were aware, or your husband’s tribe. Kila has set a peaceable example. It seemed a wise plan at the time. But then I learned the werewolves had the same hidden motives.”

“Where’d you learn that?” Ravin asked.

“From me.” Blu appeared from around the corner. Her sleep-tousled dark hair hung over one shoulder. The terry-cloth hotel dressing gown wrapped about her figure made her look so frail.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” Drake offered with a half bow.

“This is the werewolf princess?” Ravin said. No respect in that tone. “What did you do, Saint-Pierre, kidnap her? Are you holding her hostage?”

“Hostage?” Creed kissed Blu’s brow, tucking aside the long strands that had slipped into her lashes. “I love Blu. She is my wife. And nothing is going to change that.”

Drake and his wife exchanged looks. It was Ravin who finally shrugged and offered, “Sounds like we’ve work to do. Who else is on their way?”

At that moment the elevator rang. Creed buzzed in the occupants. Ravin hugged the man who stepped into her arms. He lifted her feet from the floor and swung her about.

“Mom, it’s been a few months. Are you getting shorter?”

“You’re getting taller, Ivan. Will you ever stop growing? And, Dez, so good to see you.”

“Ivan Drake,” Creed said to Blu, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Nikolaus and Ravin’s son. And his
wife, Dez. I called as many members of the Council as I could manage.”

“Good plan.” She nestled her head against his chest.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“In need of a shower, but otherwise fine. You’re all healed?”

He kissed the crown of her head. “Well enough.”

Truth was, his heart ached far more than any talon slash or broken bone could.

“I wish we had a few minutes to ourselves,” she whispered. “I need to wrap myself about you. Just…feel you.”

“When they leave I’m all yours.”

Ivan approached and shook Creed’s hand, and he made introductions to Blu.

An hour later, the penthouse was filled with a dozen vampires and witches, and the one token werewolf, Blu. She had excused herself to take a shower. Ravin and Dez, along with Lucy Stone, the paranormal debunker from Venice, mixed drinks in the kitchen.

Truvin Stone was absent, which Nikolaus had intimated was a good thing. Some differences died hard.

“I’m not sure what we can do. This is huge,” Ivan announced as he accepted a whisky Coke from his wife. “But I made some calls to the European tribe leaders on the way here. It’s not gone that far, nor will it. They will
not tolerate anarchy. The
loup-garou
across seas are much more refined.”

“I thought you came from France,” Ravin said to Creed. “Guess European
savoir-faire
doesn’t apply in your case, eh?”

Her husband silenced her. “Ravin, leave the man alone. It was an accident that started this.”

“I cannot deny Nava’s intent to dupe the wolves. My apologies to the Council.” Creed faced the tribe leaders. “Tribe Nava has always stood at the edge, apart from the others.”

“Putting on airs and following their own law,” Ravin muttered.

Ignoring the spiteful witch, Creed asked, “Have we sent out spin?”

“We’ve a team rallying in the city,” Dez reported. “Lucy and I are heading out soon. Already there’s been a news report about a savaged body found in downtown Minneapolis. It’s one of our own. Our insider at the Associated Press is prepared to suppress anything that comes over the wire. We’ll take care of this.”

“Will your wife communicate with the wolves for us?” Ivan asked Creed. “She may be our only hope.”

“No, I will not ask it of her. Her father abuses her, and the pack hierarchy does not allow for a woman’s voice to be heard. She would be in great danger were she to
have contact with the pack now. Besides,
I
may have seriously injured Amandus, the pack principal. Have we no wolves on the Council?”

“Just the one. He’ll never show.”

B
LU LISTENED BEFORE QUIETLY
entering the room again. Creed had injured Amandus? She clutched her throat and waited for the tears to come. But they did not. The title
father
did not demand respect. She knew now respect must be earned.

The only man who had earned her respect was Creed.

Now dressed in a simple black T-shirt and skirt, and her natural hair, she remained by the wall, at a distance. The men converged on the other side of the room near the grand piano, while the women chatted over drinks in the kitchen of the huge open floor plan penthouse.

She approached the women tentatively. She’d never had girlfriends, beyond Bree, and so wasn’t sure how to engage with a group of them. There wasn’t a wolf in the house, and that made Blu uncertain about interaction.

Sliding onto a stool next to the woman with long red hair, she offered a smile. “Lucy?”

“Yes, Lucy Stone.
I
do damage control and
PR
for the Light and Dark nations. How are you feeling? Sounds like you and Lord Saint-Pierre had a time of it last night.”

Ravin Drake eyed her with an intent gaze as she leaned
onto the counter, waiting for her reply as if Blu needed to prove herself.

“I’m fine. It was a shock that everything happened as it did. We had thought everyone would see we were truly in love…I guess that was foolish.”

“But Creed said the wolves had been planning to attack, too,” Ravin shot out. “So you must have known something would go down.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen last night. Creed and I were merely there to put on a show that we could live together peacefully. Except we are in love, so it wasn’t a show. I hate what’s happening now.”

“Yeah, well, the webs we weave.”

“Ravin,” Dez admonished.

Ravin touched her black spiky hair, unaffected. “I don’t like Creed Saint-Pierre. Never have, never will. I would have left him to burn last night if it had been my choice.”

“Burn?” Blu asked.

“We had to burn the banquet hall to cover evidence,” Lucy provided. “The wolves went after Creed’s home. We weren’t a part of that.”

“Creed rescued me from my pack,” Blu offered quietly. “I love him for that. Aren’t you a witch?” she asked Ravin. “I thought the witches and vampires had gotten over their tiff?”

“Tiff?” Ravin snorted. “Pass me the vodka, will you, Dez? Tiff.” She shook her head.

“Ravin holds grudges,” Dez supplied as she poured her mother-in-law a few fingers of the clear alcohol. “But we’re all here to work together now. Is there anything you can tell us that may provide a means to stopping this war before it begins?”

Blu sighed. “I don’t know much. My father was determined to take back the land the vampires have stolen from the wolves over the years. But our nations have been battling since the beginning of the twentieth century. Longer even, I’m sure. So many little things got out of hand.”

“Yes, the vamps used to hunt wolves back in the fifties,” Lucy said. When Dez shot her an impressed glance, she provided the details. “I’ve done my research. I may be new to the vampire thing, but I’m up on the history.” Lucy said to Blu, “I used to be a reporter, now I debunk paranormal occurrences that are real. Someone’s got to do spin work.”

“So you’re a vampire?”

“Yes, thanks to my husband, Truvin. I’m pretty new. Only a few years.”

“And the rest of you are witches?”

Dez nodded. “Which goes to show—” she shot her mother-in-law the evil eye “—that opposites of any kind
can attract, become friendly and even learn to love. Isn’t that right, Mrs. I Married The Vampire I Once Killed?”

“Damn straight.” Ravin tilted her shot glass at the women, then tipped it back.

“There’s something else,” Blu said slowly. “I think it’s the core reason my father is so against the vampires. I recently found out my mother had an affair with a vampire. And…that my father killed her because of it.”

Lucy rubbed a hand over Blu’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s always over passion,” Ravin said, shaking her head sadly. “All right, I’m over dissing Creed. Let’s figure a way to make things right, shall we? Because heaven knows the menfolk can’t survive without their women standing behind to back them up.”

The elevator rang. The doors opened, and out stepped a man Blu had never expected to show here. Especially not in a room full of vampires. “Severo.”

A
FEW WEEKS AGO
, Blu had wanted to punch the former pack leader if she ever saw him. Now, the world, as viewed through both her and her husband’s eyes, had changed.

When the vampires merely stood back, leering at the werewolf who had entered, Blu made a point of walking over and shaking his hand.

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