Sanibel Surrender Vampire Werewolf Menage (Fanged Romance Series Book Five) (28 page)

She must have blacked out, for when she came to; she was against Ail’s chest. He looked down at her, his face pale, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “My mate, you will rest now.” The words pierced her skull, his compulsion overriding her mind, but she had to know if Heath was okay. When she opened her mouth to ask him, he stopped her by answering her unspoken question. “He’s going to be fine, though I think both of us had heart attacks.” When she drifted back, she looked to the side, taking in the carnage, her vision going in and out. Ail demanded, “Stop fighting me. I don’t want to pressure you more than I have to.”

She looked for bodies. And sadly, she spied a few. But what she found shocking was a mound of dying, wingless Gryphs topped by the most horrifying creature possible, his claws filled with blood and broken feathers. “W-what is that,” she whispered, touching her painful throat with her fingertips.

Ail looked down at her, his piercing navy blues now glinting with his Beast. “Someone no one should fuck with, the Alpha of North America.”

“How can I not fidget with this?” Molly looked down at her engagement ring slash rock. White diamonds flanked the largest emerald she’d ever seen, and she would be afraid to wear it in public without one of them with her. It had belonged to Heath’s Scottish grandmother, and to Molly’s surprise, the woman was still alive. Heath and Ail had presented the ring to her this morning, both going down on one knee and asking her to marry them in the human tradition. However, Molly no longer cared about human tradition. She’d never fit in anywhere until she came to know them. Now, she was comfortable. Now, she was home. No matter what continent they lived on, which was still up in the air. But she refused to bring that up right now, not on a night such as this, when they could finally go out as a family.

Heath growled low, “You’re not thinkin’ about that ring anymore and you know it.”

“I’ll never tell,” she said with a mischievous smile. Ail looked down at her, and she brushed the dark bangs from his eyes. “There you are.”

“And here
we
are,” he said reluctantly, opening the door when the SUV came to the stop. When Terje jumped out of the driver’s side to help them, Ail waved him off and reached in for her. Molly’s strength was back to normal, and she could stand on her own two feet quite well, but she’d grown to love his pampering. Next, he helped Heath from the car. To save Heath’s male pride, Molly made a pointed effort to study the roof on Renee’s house. “Is that a Blue Heron up there?”

Terje stopped next to her, looking up, “Yep, your eyes are getting better every day.”

And Molly would never take her eyesight for granted again. She looked at Renee’s side deck and made for the stairs. When walking up them, she realized for the umpteenth time that she would never take her family for granted again, either. She hadn’t been able to go to see Tatum as she had planned and Dru feared her delivery date was coming up sooner than he would like for it to. And after the Gryphs revolt, things were on the shaky side between the factions. Jayce and Bren had hidden Tatum from everyone, including her family. She had a feeling Bane knew where they were, but no one was getting it out of him. And Molly had to remind herself that if anyone knew what he was doing, it was Jayce Jordan. So everyone would just have to deal with his decisions, which was the way of honoring the Alpha.

Heath and Ail had misted beside her, especially since Heath couldn’t take the stairs. Molly stood on her tiptoes and pulled him to her lips. “I love you, Heath Faden.”

“And I love you, lass.” Every day he improved, and Dru felt that he would make a full recovery. His skin was back, and physically, he looked the same. But inside, his muscles were still weak from such severe silver poisoning. So she and Ail had to coddle Heath, without him knowing it.

“And you, Ail Ruyter,” she growled the way he liked. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes, savoring her words. “I love you, Molly Ballbuster.” With Ail’s mouth slanting over hers, taking possession of her tongue, Heath reached around them and knocked on the side French door. Captiva’s moonlit surf was amazing. Indigo blue as far as her eyes could see mingled in with dark ocean greens. It was peaceful here. Yeah, an evening of tranquility would fit the bill. However, when Bane opened the side door, her tranquility floated away.

“Hospital corners?” Renee shrieked from somewhere behind her husband. “Why would I want hospital corners on my bed?”

“It looks neater,” Granny growled.

Bane said nothing and simply gestured for Molly and the crew to enter his home. Fortunate for him, he stepped outside on the side deck with Mason in tow for a private chat. Molly wouldn’t mind stepping back out herself. In front of her, Granny was strolling through the kitchen with her rolling walker, shaking her disgruntled head in perpetual dismay. Molly couldn’t help but notice that her grey-blue dome hadn’t budged a fraction. As though she’d shellacked it with no less than two cans of spray just this evening.

“No one’s going to see the bed, Granny. Why does it matter?” Renee groaned, biting the inside of her lip so she wouldn’t shoot off her mouth and say what she really thought.

“
I’m
seeing it. And tighten those sheets the way I taught you! Check the guestroom, you can bounce a quarter off my bed and I’m ninety-three!” Granny strolled right over a hissing Scoopy’s tail. But in Granny’s defense, the cat had gained far too much weight to get out of his own way.

Renee’s eyes narrowed. “If you can make it up to my
third
floor bedroom and check out my unmade bed, I’m wondering why you need a cane or that wheeled walker-thingy you stroll around behind.”

Molly made her presence known, pulling Renee in for a hug. “Granny has to knock us around with something.” She then reached over and hugged Granny, whispering, “Anyone who can move that quickly doesn’t have rheumatoid arthritis.”

“Doctor says I do.”

“Well, of course.” As long as the doctor said so, it was sealed in concrete. “What can I help with?” Molly spun, surveying the kitchen. In typical Renee style, the counters were a disaster, no rhyme or reason, just health food galore scattered everywhere.”

“First things first,” Renee said, her raven brows drawing, her hands gripping Molly’s arms, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Not at all, I told you a week ago that I was fine,” Molly answered, eyeing yet another new Pit Bull trudging through the kitchen. “What’s that one’s name?” She stepped back warily. “And how’s his temperament?”

“This is Thor. Temperament’s fine.” Renee placed her hands on either side of his head and gave him a kiss. “He has a sensitive stomach, so don’t feed him anything off your plate.”

“It must be pretty bad if you named him after the god of thunder.” Molly veered around the kitchen island. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to dangle any food in front of
those
teeth.” She stepped to the sink, washed her hands, and tied on one of Renee’s aprons. Reaching for a bowl of salad fixings, she watched Heath settle onto the sofa with Rune, becoming quickly captivated with a ball game. “Hand me a cutting board and your sharpest cleaver for a little chopping therapy.”

“Yeah, knives are the epitome of physical therapy,” Renee said with a laugh.

“Need some help, sweetheart?” Ail came behind her, discretely pressing his erection against her lower back. She fought not to be embarrassed, understanding the full moon was driving him bat-shit and he and Heath planned to mate her this night.

“Maybe,” she said, leaning back against him. Molly didn’t look up when Renee handed her the knife and cutting board, instead, going right to work on the nearest cucumber. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh, I’m hungry alright,” he whispered against the side of her throat. “I can think of many interesting ways to use that cucumber. Shall I demonstrate inside the confidential confines of the pantry?”

She smacked his hand away when he reached for the long cucumber. Then she glanced at Granny, who had settled in the kitchen chair, quietly snapping a bowl of green beans, ignoring them. Molly cleared her throat. “I hope you like tofu burgers without cheese, Ail. Renee is a full-fledged vegan now. She won’t even look at an egg.”

Ail wadded up paper towels and wiped off something that resembled pureed squash from the counter. His arm kept brushing up against hers, and although Molly was fully dressed in a skirt and blouse, topped by a full apron, her nipples puckered for him.

“Maybe I’ll dig up something tasty in the marsh,” he said under his breath for Molly’s ears only. With a tray of food in hand, Renee pecked Ail on the cheek and walked to the table. “How are you holding up, after last night?” he whispered, his breath ruffling strands of hair that had escaped her conservative twist.

After waiting for her to get well, they had both finally taken her together. “Beautifully and I’m waiting for a repeat later.”

He tugged on a piece of her hair. “You remember everything I told you about mating?”

“Yes,” she said. Ail explained the aspects of mating, that he and Heath would take her together under the full moon. She would have to drink their blood and they would have to drink hers. Afterwards, she would become immortal like her sisters.

“Good, just remember not to run. It’s a night of complete surrender.”

“Don’t run and surrender. I think I’ve got it.” When he reached over her, snagging a slice of cucumber, she inhaled his scent. Ail didn’t wear cologne, but there was something so masculine about the way he smelled. Even though they weren’t necessarily touching, the heat of his body seemed to slide into hers.

He tossed the cucumber slice in his mouth, crunching deliberately. “You sure you won’t change your mind about going into the pantry. You may have sliced up this cucumber, but I have a non-vegetable alternative,” he whispered, his navy blue eyes peeking beneath that sexy length of midnight hair.

“Someone’s going to hear you,” she said in exasperation. He picked up a carrot, scrunched his nose and then tossed it back.

His eyes dropped to her chest and hers followed. With an inward groan, she realized her borrowed apron had a graphic of two friend eggs strategically positioned over each breast, taking sunny-side-up to a naughty level.
Thanks, Renee.
When she jutted her chin at him, Ail asked in a conspiratorial whisper, “What does Renee have against eggs?”

“Ail?” Heath called for him.

“Coming,” he yelled back. To Molly, he said, “Seriously, I’ll meet you out back in a minute. Snag some of those carrots.”

Her lips parted as Ail sauntered away and joined the rest of the men. Out of nowhere, Arian plopped down five over-browned hotdogs on the counter in front of her, followed by a two-liter of warm, greenish soda. “Molly Girl, don’t expect anything decent to eat around here. Renee won’t allow it.” He spun his white-blond head around, searching for his wife while acting as though he’d just robbed a bank. “This is the best I can do, for now. Hurry up and eat. I think she’s on the phone.”

“Uh.” Molly raised a brow when he singlehandedly smothered all five hotdogs with a bottle of red sauce entitled Satan’s Balwz. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with the salad.”

“Cause you don’t know what’s good,” he argued, licking a dab of sauce from his fingers before offering one to Granny. “Mrs. Shirley,” he raised his voice, “how about you?”

Granny looked startled, her brows lifting above her glasses like angry, blue lightning bolts. “Sure, brute, I’ll down one if I want to spend what’s left of my life inside the can.”

“Jeez, Granny.” Molly could feel her cheeks instantly burning.

“Have at it, Thor.” Arian kept three and tossed two hotdogs at the Pit Bull. With a low snarl, Thor snapped them up before they even hit the floor.

“Ah, Arian, I know you needed to destroy the evidence.” Molly said, recalling her sister’s words. “However, Renee warned me that Thor has a
sensitive
stomach.”

“What?” Arian’s lips thinned before he raced to side French door and attempted to shoo out Thor. The dog wouldn’t budge an inch. “Are you sure she wasn’t complaining about that sick, little feline who keeps taking a dump inside my favorite golf bag?”
“Oh, I’m sure she was referring to this dog right here.” Molly sidestepped Thor. “Don’t you listen to anything your wife says?”

“It depends on how she’s dressed,” he retorted after taking a swig from the greenish soda. “When it comes to my wife, I get distracted. Easily.”

“Eww. Getting off topic.” She noticed Heath and Ail were in a serious discussion, huddled at the end of Renee’s long sofa. “I don’t want to hear about any of …
that
.”

“Oh, yeah?” He laughed. “Last time you were over, I didn’t want to
hear
you and Renee belting out song after song while in your drunken stupors. Since Bane and Dru had to work the next morning, they were forced to sleep out on the pool deck because the law frowns upon men tying up women and duck taping their mouths shut. Goodie for me, I was stuck babysitting the two of you. All night.” He glanced outside, muttering something under his breath about holding Molly’s head out of the toilet. “By the way, how many renditions of
Dancing Queen
can a person take? I officially hate that song.”
Reminding her that tequila shooters and
Mamma Mia
was a bad mix. Still, she argued, “How can you hate
Abba
? No one hates
Abba,
especially a Norwegian.”

“They’re from Stockholm,” he said patiently, “not
exactly
from my old stomping ground. Anyway, they were before my time. And yours, you’re still in your twenties, Molly Girl.” He tilted his head toward Granny, who was now softly snoring. “If it’s any consolation to you, I didn’t hate them until
that night
.”

“Whatever, Arian.”

Without missing a beat, he offered, “You want to talk about it.”

Molly sighed. “No, I’m fine.” Arian glanced around again, still looking for Renee. “What are you up to, Viking?” she asked.