Kyn Series (6 page)

The ceremony started and he was forced to pay attention. He was on ‘pain of death’ from both Marak and Maria, to make sure he didn’t lose the rings or screw up in any way, shape, or form. Marak had a well-earned reputation as a vicious warrior, but Kalen was more scared of what Maria would do to him if he mucked this up. He had a feeling disembowelment was one of the nicer things she had in mind.

Still curious, he tried to sneak glances at the mystery blonde as the ceremony progressed. All he wanted was a look at her face. Perhaps even the chance to catch her eye and smile. A good one went a long way in this kind of thing. Kalen hadn’t earned his reputation as a Casanova without knowing all the tricks.

His efforts came to nothing, though. His view was blocked by three other bridesmaids and the tall figure of Garen Ravensford. Garen, however, had noticed his attention. The small grin that spread across the older knight’s face told him that Garen knew what he, the warrior, was doing. Instead of helping him, by and leaning back in his chair so Kalen could see her better, Garen folded his arms and made ‘kissy faces’ every time he looked over.

Ravensford was a dead man.

He rocked back on his heels, seething with frustration. All he could see was the long length of a slender leg. Although it was a nice leg, one that threatened to sidetrack him with all sorts of intriguing thoughts, he wanted to see her face.

Maria and Marak exchanged vows, a curious blend of the Kyn and human ceremony all rolled into one, but he wasn’t paying attention. How had he missed a woman like that in the court? His mind ran over all the families, trying to recall every distant cousin or minor branch of the nobility.

The ceremony concluded. The congregation stood as the bride and groom made their way back down the aisle. The wedding party took their prearranged places in line to follow them. The only woman he’d ever seen approaching
that
sort of look was Vixen…his heart stilled in his chest. In fact, his mystery woman was
exactly
the same height as Vixen, and both were blonde. He turned to look into a familiar pair of green eyes.

His mystery blonde
was
Vixen.

The western terrace ballroom had been transformed so magically Vixen’s jaw hit the floor when she walked through the doors. The formal room now looked like something straight out of a fairytale. Swags of white and silver chiffon descended from the high ceilings in loops to wind around the imposing columns. The suits of armor along the walls had been replaced by guards in the shape of cascading floral displays.

As this was a vampire wedding, there was no wedding lunch. Instead, waiters circulated with trays of champagne for the first toast. Another human custom Maria had insisted on. They’d soon switch to serving blood, though. It was the way of things; and the Kyn court, in fact, the race as a whole, took a while to adapt to any change.

A small buffet was tucked away in the corner for the human guests, discreetly out of the way. Some of the older guests, the ones who had been born Kyn, found the sight of people eating distasteful. Vixen took refuge near it. If she’d thought walking into the main hall behind Maria had been bad, with all those eyes boring into her, then the reception was a thousand times worse.

At least in the ceremony
no one
had been talking. To her—or anyone. Here at the reception it was a different matter. Despite the mingling, only her fellow bridesmaids and the other warriors had bothered to say more than two words to her.

The other bridesmaids were all human. Maria’s mother had been from a seneschal family, so they all knew exactly what Vixen was. She was surprised to discover they were overawed, being in the presence of the infamous Vixen. She appeared to have become a girl power icon amongst the seneschal women, and at least two of them had asked if she’d ever thought of teaching self-defense.

Still absorbing that one, Vixen sat by herself sipping champagne and studying the wall opposite to avoid ‘circulating.’ She also ignored the small group of Kyn women nearby. They were all exquisitely dressed in the manner of the wealthy, and besides, they all eyed her with a mixture of pity and amusement. She recognized them, daughters of the wealthy noble houses, and no doubt all madder than wet hens that Marak hadn’t chosen amongst them for his bride.

Their whispered comments reached her easily. Her knuckles whitened a fraction on the stem of her glass before she relaxed. The last thing she needed was to crush it and spill champagne and blood all over her dress. She ignored the whispers as she had done for years.

“What
does
she think she looks like?” they began, “Heels with her height? Complexion’s far too pale for that color. Not talked to anyone but the cattle, you can tell she has no breeding.” Adding insult to injury, they finished with, “Don’t know why they invited her, or the rest of those Neanderthals.”

She knocked back the rest of her champagne in one go, not caring if that showcased her lack of breeding. Who cared anyway? All it meant was Mommy and Daddy had been lucky enough to be born with a silver spoon in their mouths. She stood in a lithe movement and stalked past the small group of women. Her nerves disappeared as she drew the mask of a warrior over herself. She met their eyes challengingly—the lethal grace of a born predator in every line of her body—then hid a satisfied smile as they nearly fell over themselves to get out of her way.

They might look down on her for what she was, but at the end of the day, she’d rather spend her time doing something useful like protecting people by fighting the rogue, than live a pampered and useless existence. Wrapped in cotton wool, these women wanted for nothing. The only thing required of them was to look pretty, offer their throats to the guys their daddies picked out for them, and pray like hell they were fertile enough to conceive.

She curled her lip. Although they were born Kyn, the descendants of demon warriors transported from their own dimension to this one a millennia ago, they’d forgotten the meaning of the word ‘predator.’ Half were probably afraid of their own shadows, and the rest preferred to fight with words. The nobles might consider the warrior caste dinosaurs, but it was the noble class who were slowly killing their race.

Needing to get away, she headed out onto the terrace. Stepping into the cool darkness, she closed her eyes in relief and turned her face up to bask in the silvery light of the moon.

Within seconds her peace was shattered by a voice from the darkness. “I wondered how long it would take you to come out here.”

She turned, startled. It was a familiar voice. One she’d been waiting all night to hear since taking that silent walk down the aisle, his eyes unreadable.

Kalen’s voice.

Her heart leapt, did that frantic little dance behind her ribcage as everything female in her screamed,
Me. Me. Notice me
. It was an instinctive reaction, one she’d tried for years to smother, but it just wouldn’t go away.

Reality returned as she remembered where they were, and more importantly, how she was dressed. “Yeah, no prizes for that one. Anyone with half a brain can see I don’t fit in with polite society.”

Her reply was without its usual bite. Surrounded by Kyn warriors, the meanest sons of bitches out, she was expected to be mean and tough…so she was. A ‘Grade A Bitch.’ She hid her true self, one of a gentler and more sensitive nature, so no one, especially Kalen, would see it. She just couldn’t muster the mask at the moment. She was too far out of her comfort zone, dressed up in unfamiliar finery and feeling as though she’d had the stuffing knocked out of her.

She walked over to the stone railings that bordered the terrace, next to a set of steps that led down into the gardens. Her hands rested on the cool stone as she took in a breath of night air. Planted with the Kyn in mind, the gardens were filled with night blooming flowers, the gentle scent soothing her agitation for a moment. A tranquility that only lasted a few seconds as his voice sounded right beside her ear. She jumped a little. She hadn’t heard him move. The last time anyone had been able to sneak up on her like that was…years ago.

“You look different dressed up.”

His voice was a whisper of sound in the darkness that sent a warm shiver down her spine, as if he’d reached out and run a large hand over her sensitive skin. She ignored it and snorted.

“No shit, Sherlock. You’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

There was silence behind her instead of the derisive chuckle she expected. Instead, she felt him lean closer. So close, she felt his warm breath on the back of her neck, whispering across the tiny hairs on her skin.

“No, but I like it.” His deep voice dripped with temptation. Whirling around, she expected to see a grin on his face as he made fun of her again.

But he didn’t, his dark eyes unreadable.

“You look stunning.”

He lifted a hand to tuck a stray curl of hair behind her ear. She shivered at the touch, unable to take her gaze off him as his fingertips trailed over her cheek.

“Yeah right.” Her voice was a croak, her mouth suddenly dry. He’d only touched her cheek, yet her body was going haywire. “To hear them talk in there, you’d think…”

She clamped her mouth shut midsentence, appalled at what she was about to say, ready to admit her innermost fears to him. She’d learnt early on never to let anyone see the chinks in her armor. Childhood bullies driven to their ways by the marks on her face and body had taught her to keep everything safely inside.

It was too late, she’d said enough. She watched as realization flooded Kalen’s eyes. Even at Vixen’s height, she had to look up to meet them.

“Ignore them, they’re just jealous.” His voice wove magic out of the moonlight and darkness, sending a shiver up her spine. She wanted to believe him, his words like a balm to her injured feminine pride. Then he surprised her.

“Dance with me?” he asked, holding a hand out to her.

She couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her as she cast a hunted glance at the tall windows, the light from the festivities inside spilling out into the night. She couldn’t bear to go back in, have them all watching her again, dissecting her every move, probably hoping she’d trip and fall over her own feet.

“I don’t think I’m ready to go back in yet,” she admitted, although she desperately wanted that dance. Just one, then tomorrow they’d go back to sniping at one another.

“Neither am I… I came out to escape as well. Out here, just you and me.” His voice was low and persuasive, and his gaze never left hers.

It was her fantasy come true. Vixen reached out and placed her hand in his without speaking.

Of course, in her fantasies—the ones she woke hot and flustered from—he’d pull her hard against him. Then, his hands would mold her softer body to his as he would plunder her lips, then draw her deeper into the shadows where…she would pull herself together, her heart racing, before the betraying blush on her cheekbones had the chance to warm half the city.

She met his gaze as he pulled her into his arms, their bodies moving slowly to the music that filtered out onto the terrace. Slow and seductive, under any other circumstances, she’d never have agreed to dance to it with anyone, much less Kalen. Rock and heavy metal were more her style. But, the romance of the occasion mellowed her and she relaxed in his arms.

They fit together well, moving so naturally it was as if they were made for each other. She sighed softly, the unaccustomed champagne flowing through her veins. It wasn’t enough to make her tipsy, she was too experienced to make that sort of mistake, but it was enough to relax her guard several notches.

When the music changed to something slower, more romantic and Kalen pulled her closer, she didn’t argue. Instead, she sighed in pleasure and gave into the temptation to lay her head on his shoulder and close her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of his hard male body against hers.

She had no idea of time as they danced, moving slowly to the music with his arms around her, hers around him. She felt safe and protected, a feeling Vixen had never experienced before. It was a feeling she found she liked. Eventually, Kalen stopped moving and murmured her name.

She looked up, blinking as her eyes as they readjusted to the darkness, only to find he’d moved them farther into the shadows at the edges of the terrace, well away from the ballroom doors.

“I’ve wanted to do this all night,” he whispered, tilting her chin up to claim her lips.

Hot. That was the only way to describe the way Kalen had kissed her the night of the reception. Hot and wildly erotic. Days later, Vixen still felt the imprint of his lips on hers, the way he’d tasted and the electric heat that had swirled through her body in response. Flushing at the memory, she hooked her towels over the rail and stepped under the shower. A groan left her lips as the hot water eased her sore muscles. Muscles she’d abused in her workout trying to escape that memory, especially the part where they’d been interrupted, and she’d panicked and fled like a startled teenager.

Neither a heavy duty workout, nor trying to avoid Kalen, seemed to be working, though. Since the reception, Vixen had been switching patrols at the last minute. Taking the late patrol if Kalen was on early and the early one if he was on the late roster. That way, she only saw him for a few seconds in the main area of the compound. Even then, she kept her head down and avoided his gaze.

Like tonight for example. They’d both been on the early patrol, but with Marak off after the wedding, their patrol had been broken down to cover gaps in the other teams until he returned. At the last minute, Vixen had managed to swap patrols with a guy from Mikal’s team who had wanted to get back early to spend time with his mate.

She rinsed the last of the shampoo out of her hair and smoothed it back in a slick pelt down her back. She turned her head as her sensitive ears picked up a sound from the other room. A frown creased her brow as she snapped the shower off and listened.

Nothing.

“Hello?” she called out just in case, wondering if one of the guys had wandered in by mistake. Although there was only one of her, Marak had made sure she had her own shower and changing room. Didn’t need the rookies falling over their own tongues the first time they had to take a shower he’d said. Early on, with each batch of rookies, the older warriors had dared them to try and sneak a look at Vixen in the showers. A bizarre initiation ritual, it tended to die down after she bounced the first few off the walls.

She stood for a few seconds, ears still perked for any sound from the changing room, until the air on her wet skin made her shiver.

“You’re going nuts, Vixen.”

She stepped out from the stall and reached for the towels. Wrapping the larger one around her body, she blotted the water from her hair with the smaller one and headed back out into the changing room.

She got less than three steps. Hard hands closed on her even as she started to turn. In the next instant, she found herself pinned against the wall by a hard male body. The impact drove the breath from her lungs as a familiar scent filled her nostrils and sent her senses haywire.

“You seem to be going to some lengths to avoid me blondie,” Kalen’s voice close to her ear kicked her body into high awareness, “Any particular reason for that?”

“Kalen, let go of me you bloody idiot. I thought you were an intruder.” She struggled against his hold. The way he had her pinned, one arm twisted up behind her back, and a booted foot kicking her bare feet farther apart, meant she couldn’t get any leverage to fight back. She recognized the hold. It was one they used on patrol if they found any Kyn youngsters out and about and up to no good.

She was a strong woman, but even she couldn’t break this one. It was designed to hold a much larger opponent immobile. Not that she was bigger than Kalen, but she could hold her own in a fight and he knew it. Vixen fought hard and dirty.

Being held down wasn’t the worst of it, though. Her body tightened at his touch and a moist heat slipped from between her thighs. Hot color flooded her cheeks. She couldn’t be turned on by this, could she? It was embarrassing. She closed her eyes as she bit her lip…very hot.

“Not until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, and why you ran out on me the other night.” He pressed harder to quell her struggles. Hard enough she felt every solid plane of muscle in his body. And a growing hardness pressing into her ass that proved, like her, he wasn’t immune to the situation.

“Other night?” Her voice was innocent as she wriggled to test his hold on her. It gained her a growl, an unusual feral sound that should have warned her.

“Don’t play games with me, blondie. I might take you up on it and I don’t think you’d like the games I want to play.” His warm breath fanned over her neck and cheek with the threat, making her body clench with need. “Now,” he added, his voice ominously low, “That kiss…”

Despite the warning, Vixen couldn’t resist playing with fire. “What kiss?”

“Dammit, Vixen, don’t do this.” Kalen’s voice sounded thick with fury as he released her long enough to spin her around to face him, then pinned her back against the wall. His dark-eyed gaze blazed into hers. “If you don’t remember, maybe I should remind you…”

Fear struck her. She couldn’t let him do that. She was fighting a losing battle. Not to get free of his hold, but not to throw herself at him either. Only his hold stopped her. If he kissed her, the slight resistance she’d mustered would crumble into dust.

“Don’t bother.” She flashed her fangs warningly.

“Unless you plan on using them, blondie, put them away. No one likes a tease. ” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. His hand shot out, wound into the hair at her nape and held her still as his lips descended, covering hers in a kiss that was all about punishment and anger.

Tears prickled in the backs of her eyes as she struggled, struggles that only served to increase his determination. In desperation, she did the only thing she could and nipped his lip. The rich, sweet taste of his blood—the blood of an ancient vampire—exploded on her tongue. She moaned, another need swirling darkly within her as his groan joined hers. The kiss changed, his tongue sweeping into her mouth in a sensual exploration that filled every cell in her body with pleasure.

Lost in the myriad of other sensations, she barely felt the towel fall away. The cool air hit her skin, her nipples tightening in response, a shiver chasing down her spine as he stretched her arms above her head. One large hand held her slender wrists with ease as the other explored the curve of her waist.

He broke away from her lips, ignoring the small sound of disappointment she made, to trail white-hot kisses along her jaw and down her throat. Her back arched in response, thrusting her naked breasts against the solid wall of muscle that was his chest.

She moaned, biting her lip to try to stifle the sound as his large hand closed over her. His clever fingers rolled her sensitive nipple between them. Pinching and pulling gently until a small whimper escaped her throat, and her hips bucked against him.

All her protests, the reasons why this wasn’t a good idea, were forgotten as he released her wrists. His warm mouth swept down to lave his tongue over the nipple he’d just tortured. Her head dropped back against the wall at the sensual torment, the noise from his zipper a harsh sound of promise. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed with arousal. Oh god, she needed this, needed to feel him filling her, stretching her and driving into her.

Then, the wait was over and he was there. The hardness she’d felt earlier pressed against her sex as he lifted her thigh, his hand smoothed against her skin as he held it over his hip.

His expression was tight, harsh, and his dark eyes unreadable as he dipped down to push against her. She caught her breath as the thick head of his erection slid just inside the silken entrance to her body, already slick with excitement.

Her eyes widened as her body stretched to accept him, but he was already pulling back. She moaned in protest; a sound that became one of pleasure as he slid the hard head of his cock up, then rubbed it against her sensitive clit. She closed her eyes as shivers chased over her skin. This was torture, pure torture.

“You want it, don’t you? I can smell your need. So sweet, enticing.”

He nibbled along her neck, leaving a trail of tiny nips that left fire on her skin and her heart racing. She nodded, unable to phrase a coherent sentence at the moment. He stopped teasing her, raised her thigh higher and opened her body completely to him, then drove into her in one strong movement.

His gaze met hers, holding it as if reading everything all the way down to her soul. He thrust into her slowly, time after time, pressing her hard against the cool tile wall. The room around them filled with the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, soft moans…even the smell of sex hanging in the air, a combination of warm skin, sweat and pheromones. His hunger for her was now evident in the look in his eyes and so too was the fierceness of his possession.

This was no sweet exploratory lovemaking—two new lovers coming together gently. It was like he was staking a claim. And she was too far gone to complain, loving every minute of it, her arms around his shoulder and legs wrapped around his lean hips as he pumped into her. Quick, rough sex against a wall and she’d never found anything so erotic in her life.

She moaned as her body tensed on his where it was buried deep inside her, deeper than she’d thought possible. A familiar tension started within her, driving the need to move faster, deeper…clench harder. Anything to realize the tension coiled low in her belly.

“That’s it, baby, just let go.”

Her movements slowed, became more uncoordinated. Then, everything stilled, one perfect moment of pure clarity as she hovered on the edge. Waiting for his next movement, just needing his next thrust to tip her over the edge. He moved, hips driving hard against hers as he struck, his sharp fangs driving deep and piercing the soft skin of her throat.

“Shit,” she gasped, as ecstasy hit her at light speed and breathy moans of pleasure filled the room. The combination of her climax and the ecstasy of Kalen’s bite rendered her unable to think, mindless with pleasure. His powerful body drove into her once, twice more…a guttural groan leaving his throat as he pushed deep inside her one last time. His cock pulsed and jerked as his climax hit.

Long seconds passed, the only sounds in the room were of their ragged breathing. Unwelcome reality crowded back into her pleasure-numbed brain with a vengeance. Still held tight in Kalen’s arms, she struggled, raining blows on his shoulders until he let her go.

“You…bastard.” She staggered away as he stumbled backward. His expression showing he was as stunned, as much as she was horrified, as she swiped at the warm wetness on her neck. Her hand came away red with blood.

“You fucking bit me.”

It wasn’t a serious bite, but that wasn’t the point. Biting was reserved for people in love, people like Maria and Marak. Bond mates, married couples. Not people you just screwed up against a wall in anger and definitely not without asking permission.

“Vixen…let me explain.”

He held out a pleading hand, but she just grabbed the towel from the floor and wrapped it around her as if it were a shield.

“I don’t wanna hear it, K,” she snarled, fury in every line of her body. “I have a patrol to get ready for.”

“Vixen…”

“Get. Out,” she shouted.

* * *

To say Vixen was distracted the rest of the night on patrol would have been an understatement. Hands stuffed in her pockets, her shoulders were rounded as she walked, her body language screaming, ‘don’t talk to me.’

She’d been partnered with Feral, her last minute switch, putting them both covering Mikal’s patrol. Having been patrol partners on previous occasions, it wasn’t at all unusual they’d been assigned together. A good thing, since Vixen didn’t feel like talking. If she’d ended up with Lucan, who’d looked her way with hope in his eyes when Mikal had called the pairs, she would’ve had to kill him, and leave his body down an empty alley. A younger warrior, he was far too enthusiastic and chatty for Vixen on a good day, let alone the foul mood she was in today.

Scowling, she wrapped her arms closer around herself as she and Feral walked down the main club strip on Southside. It wasn’t part of their usual route, but with Marak off on honeymoon, everyone had to pull extra duty. So, she and Feral had elected to cover Southside, then head over to their usual patrol route.

Nearing club ‘kick-out time,’ the street was busy, and the reason why they’d decided to check out this particular area first. This time of night was always a favorite for predators, paranormal or not. The people pouring out were usually high with alcohol and other substances surging through their veins, which lowered their reactions and numbed their survival instincts.

Some predators were already here. As they walked, she spotted at least three Kyn feeding in the shadows. She nodded as they passed, a silent warning not to take more than the women they’d lured into the shadows could afford, and to wipe the women’s memories when they were done.

“Fucking hate this time of night,” Feral grumbled as they reached the end of the road, stopping on the corner, like two clubbers waiting for a cab. Although several cabs passed the tall couple on the corner, none of them stopped—as if they didn’t see them.

Because they probably didn’t. An observer would need paranormal blood to see the two Kyn in the first place, to be able to pierce the veil of obscurity that shrouded them whenever they preferred not to be seen. And if they were able to do that, then they would be able to recognize the two Kyn warriors for what they were, anyway.

Vixen grunted in reply. It was well known Feral hated clubs, claiming the lights gave him a headache. Given he was one of the most photosensitive Kyn she’d ever met, she wasn’t surprised.

It didn’t take long for things to quiet down, the last of the humans finding cabs or making their way off to the subway, eventually leaving just the two Kyn on the corner to be alone. Feral pushed off from the wall as soon as the street was clear, and the club lights snapped off one by one.

“So, you gonna to tell me what’s bugging you?” he asked as she dropped into step with him, automatically shortening his stride to match hers.

“Don’t know what you’re going on about.” Not in any mood to talk about it, her reply was short.
Kalen snuck up on me in the shower and we screwed each other’s brains out against the wall.
Not the sort of thing she wanted to admit to her patrol partner, not when she couldn’t be sure how she felt about it, herself. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Actually, she knew exactly how she felt about what’d happened.