Renner Morgan (5 page)

McBride was certain that there were clones of him in various stages of development. The McBride line was a stable genetic line that went back for eons. Well, he thought it was stable, but after what he’d learned about his father’s mental illness and his own bouts, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps the whole system had fallen apart. If so, the blame lay clearly with the Genetics Boards and their policies.

Long ago, when women walked the Earth, procreation was a mixed bag of dominant and recessive genes. People met and bred without knowing the strengths or weaknesses their offspring would have. The Genetics Board had taken all that away. He imagined they had tried to make women, but when they failed, they’d moved on to other methods from cloning to combining the genetic material of two men to produce new strains. Gentrymen were exact clones. Slammers, thralls, and grinders weren’t clones, but they were genetically engineered to fit tightly controlled parameters.

But now, all that was lost. Or at least it was on Earth. McBride looked out the open door of the shed then up at the sky. Since it was late afternoon, there were no stars out, but he visualized all the planets mankind had colonized. Were they spared the blood madness? Or had a similar virus erupted everywhere simultaneously?

McBride imagined that since there was no way for him to communicate with any of those worlds, he might never know. Maybe someday, when his world settled down, he might journey into town to the sheriff’s office and see if the equipment still worked. But probably not. As curious as he was, it was still just curiosity. He had far more important things to worry about with just sheer survival hanging over his head. Besides, if there were intact worlds, they’d quickly quarantine Earth so that the disease wouldn’t spread.

“McBride?”

He turned and found Ferris at the door. His molten-copper eyes were bright and his once-dirty-blond hair was now much more sun bleached. He looked healthy and happy. For some reason, that made McBride feel better. “What do you need, Ferris?”

“Jonas sent me over to see if you needed anything.” Ferris looked at the cache of weapons with more fear than curiosity.

“Let him know I’m fine.” McBride had a feeling that Jonas was actually worried about how McBride felt about the truth coming out. “Tell him everything is good.”

Ferris nodded but stayed by the doorway.

Rather than ask, McBride just lifted his brows and waited.

“Will they be back?” Ferris’s voice was tremulous.

“They might.” McBride saw no reason to lie to him, not when that would only exacerbate his fears. “But we’ll do the same thing we did today.”

“Stand behind Caleb?”

A deep chuckle came from the back part of the shed, but McBride ignored it. “We’ll stand strong together.”

“What if we have to fight?”

“Let’s cross that bridge if and when we get to it.”

Ferris nodded but still didn’t go.

“I can’t guarantee Bailey’s safety, Ferris. If I could, I would, but the world doesn’t work that way.”

“I just worry about him.”

“I know.” McBride put the last clean gun into the cabinet then closed the door. “It’s normal to worry about the people we love.”

Ferris nodded. A lone tear hung on the edge of his lower lash then tumbled down to his cheek, making him tragically beautiful.

“Come here.” McBride opened his arms.

Ferris ran, plastering himself against McBride’s chest. When Ferris wrapped his arms around him, McBride realized just how tiny he was. He was also certain that Ferris had sought the same comfort from Bailey but found he needed just a bit more reassurance. McBride didn’t mind. He loved all his men, and he loved their mates, too. Keeping all of them safe was his top priority.

Cuddling him close, McBride whispered nonsensical words, preferring to let his presence reassure Ferris. He thought that was probably what he needed most. Ferris didn’t want words. He wanted to feel safe, and one of the best ways to do that was to feel the inherent strength of his master.

After a long hug and a few sniffles, Ferris let go. He didn’t speak, but he looked shyly up at McBride and then scampered out the shed door.

“That was so sweet I don’t think I’ll be able to eat dessert for a week.”

McBride didn’t have to turn around to know that Caleb was there. His snickering laugh after Ferris’s comment had given him away. Rather than engage him in any way, McBride decided the best course of action was to ignore him. Since he was finished cleaning, organizing, and ensuring all the weapons and ammunition were within easy reach, he left the shed.

“So now you’re not going to talk to me?” Caleb was at his side fast enough that McBride figured he must have run to catch up. He was still wearing his long pants and heavy work boots, but he’d taken off everything else. One look at his powerful chest out the corner of McBride’s eye was enough to make a plethora of images dance in his head. Despite his efforts to stem the tide, he couldn’t help but imagine tossing Caleb in the stocks, ripping his beige pants off, and spending the rest of the day teasing his ass until he begged McBride to fuck him. Only when night fell and the moon rose would McBride indulge him.

“Go away, Caleb.”

“Are you going to make your pretty little crimetech your new mate now that everyone knows Jonas and Ollie are a couple?”

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“No one cared.” Caleb sounded disappointed.

“I cared.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No.” McBride turned sharply on his heel, going off ninety degrees from Caleb. His goal was the big house so he could check and see how Quintus was doing now that he’d fed and Renner had time to bandage his wound. Against his will, McBride pictured himself in the same position that he’d caught Quintus in. The only difference was that it was Caleb offering up his neck, and rather than McBride rubbing his cock, it would be Caleb’s massive fist stroking up and down his length. If he were flexible enough, McBride would love to feed from Caleb while Caleb wrapped his mouth around his cock, but he didn’t think that was humanly possible.

“
No
you’re not going to make him your mate, or
no
you didn’t answer my question?” Caleb bellowed out his question loud enough that the men in the garden perked up their heads.

Ignoring him, McBride entered the big house and took the stairs two at a time. When he got to Quintus’s room, he was surprised to find the door was closed. He pressed his ear against the heavy wood, but he didn’t hear anything.

“He’s sleeping, sir.” The butler had just come out of McBride’s room. When he stepped down the hall and looked in, he realized he’d made his bed and straightened everything up. The lotion bottle he and Caleb had tossed between them had been returned to the vanity. Damn that just
looking
at the thing had the power to put the image of Caleb’s lotion-slicked fist around his prick into the forefront of McBride’s mind.

“Did Renner say how Quintus was doing?”

“He said he should be fine, but after the shock of the encounter he needed some rest.”

“Where is Renner now?”

“I do not know, sir, but I will endeavor to find out.”

“No. I’ll find him.” McBride went down the stairs at a far more sedate pace. At the bottom of the steps, he saw Renner crossing the yard, heading toward his house. Stepping out, McBride realized that Caleb was still in the yard. Rather than reminding him to get to work, McBride decided that he would keep on ignoring him. It was juvenile, but it certainly seemed to be beneficial in keeping himself away from an interlude with Caleb. However, Caleb seemed bound and determined not to let McBride go so easily. Caleb took ground-eating strides until he was next to McBride.

“
No
you’re not going to make him your mate, or
no
you aren’t going to answer my question?”

“Go away, Caleb.”

“I want an answer.”

“Too bad.”

Caleb reached out and grasped McBride’s arm.

When he turned to chastise him, Caleb yanked him close, and kissed him. The kiss was raw with passion and dirty with need. He didn’t seem to care who saw them, or perhaps that was the point. Even though he didn’t want to, McBride pushed Caleb away. Very deliberately, McBride wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Caleb’s eyes went wide. Before he could say or do anything, McBride continued on to Renner’s house.

Normally he knocked before entering, but he was in a hurry to get away from Caleb, so he simply opened the door and stepped in. The last thing he expected was to find was Renner furiously masturbating in the center of the living room.

Renner was just about to climax when McBride stepped in. That, in and of itself, wasn’t what was so embarrassing since Renner had stroked himself plenty of times while McBride fed. It was the fact that Renner was dressed in his tight, leather gear. That was what mortified him. Wrist gauntlets covered his forearms while clinging shorts constricted his lower body, putting his cock and balls on display. A half mask covered the upper part of his face, allowing him to take deep breaths of the rich scent of the leather but leaving his mouth free so he could imagine he was using it to please his master. Always, his master had been nameless, faceless, but now, Renner imagined himself on his knees, sucking Quintus’s cock.

“Zooks!” McBride stumbled backward, exiting the house. He shook his head, grabbed the door handle, and then slammed it shut so hard the window rattled.

Humiliated beyond words, Renner was tearing his gear off as quickly as he could. McBride had never just walked into his home. Never. Why today of all days? Usually, Renner waited for nightfall, and even then he almost always went into his bedroom, but today he could barely control himself long enough to get into his own house.

What had pushed him over the edge was seeing Quintus’s cock. He’d been drinking from Renner’s neck, and then Quintus had shoved his hand into his underwear. By stretching his neck and looking down, Renner had been able to watch him fist his prick and climax. The visual combined with the feel of him drawing strongly of his blood had pushed Renner into a state of arousal unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d wanted to join him and shove his hand down his own trousers, but he didn’t because something about the situation felt different. With McBride, it was a relaxed kind of pull on his neck. It was a leisurely sipping that allowed Renner the time he needed to bring himself off. Not that he didn’t think he could get off with Quintus, because he knew that he could. One tug would splatter his seed all over the bed. But that was what compelled him to keep his hands off his cock. It didn’t feel the same with Quintus at all.

As quickly as it started it was over. Quintus licked the wound closed and hastily covered his hips back up with the blankets. Renner lifted up and their gazes locked.

“McBride was here.” Quintus looked toward the door then back at Renner.

Renner’s heart slammed so hard in his chest he thought he was going to pass out. But then he said, “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No?”

“No. With your injury you should drink, eat, and then sleep.” But in Renner’s heart, it did indeed feel as if they’d done something wrong. He was certain that feeling came from the fact he’d lost his focus on what he was doing and allowed his hand to wander up Quintus’s hairy thigh. Renner looked toward the doorway and found a bottle of whisky tucked inside the room. He retrieved it and set it beside the bed. “If he was angry, I don’t think he would have left this.”

“Is he in the habit of sharing his slammers with guests?”

“I wouldn’t say it was a habit, but he’s a conscientious host. If a guest was in need, like you were, I don’t think he would deny him blood.” Renner knew that McBride was exceedingly generous. “He’s very giving. Even with his slammers. He promised all of us mates.”

Something far deeper than shame washed down Quintus’s face. “Do you have a thrall?”

“No.” Renner looked away. He was embarrassed not because he didn’t have a mate, but because he wanted to claim a gentryman as his mate. Or rather, he wanted Quintus to claim him. But that was madness. Quintus was here for McBride.

“Given the state of the world, do you think he’ll be able to find you a thrall?”

“I—I—” Rather than answer, Renner had shot to his feet. His intention was to go as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t leave without covering up Quintus’s injury. Hastily, he finished cleaning the wound, dressed it with healing unguents, and then placed a bandage over it. “There. You should sleep.”

“Wait.”

Before Renner could run off, Quintus captured his hand.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.” Renner wanted to pull away, but he didn’t because there was something about Quintus’s touch that seemed to glue his feet to the spot.

“I would ask you for one more favor.”

Renner drew a steadying breath. He was desperate to go and deal with the throbbing erection in his trousers, but he didn’t want to be rude to a guest. If Quintus had never fed from a slammer, he might not understand that it was normal for the slammer to become aroused. Renner didn’t want to embarrass him if he didn’t know or embarrass himself by creaming without a single touch to his cock. Jonas and McBride had fed from him dozens of times, but Renner had never had a reaction like this.