Hagen, Lynn - Montana's Vamp [Brac Pack 16] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (4 page)

“No, it’s the big bad wolf that is going to spank his mate for leaving the house and putting himself in danger.” He smiled as a head popped around the side of the grill, jade-green eyes once again peeking at him.

“I don’t understand. You didn’t want me.” Gabby sniffled.

He placed his hands on his hips as he looked down at his mate. “And who told you this, pumpkin?” He watched as Gabby’s full body emerged from the front of his truck. He slowly walked over to Montana, his head falling back so he could look up into Montana’s face.

Gabby took a step closer, his eyes wet with tears. “Nobody, but you left. Ran away.” His mate wiped at his eyes. Montana could see hope in them and a little fear, correction, a lot of it.

“Get into the truck, pumpkin. Dawn’s coming.” Relief flooded Montana. He had gone nuts when he wasn’t able to find his mate. He wanted to rip everyone’s throat out for letting the little guy just walk out of the front door. What kind of crackpot operation were they running to allow a mate to walk out in the middle of the night?

Vampire be damned, it wasn’t safe.

He hadn’t wanted to hear Maverick’s excuse of not keeping Gabby there against his will. The Alpha should have known better.

Montana had been searching every damn back road for half the night. If he had been in his wolf form, he would have been able to find him hours ago. But he feared Gabby might need the truck for quicker transportation if he was hurt.

If he hadn’t found him soon, he was going to shift to locate him. Time wasn’t on his side, and he was beginning to panic until he saw that little tuft of orange in the distance.

Thank goodness it wasn’t necessary. His fireball was sitting in the front seat safe and sound. “Put your seat belt on, pumpkin.” As Montana started to pull off of the soft shoulder, Gabby yelled out, his hands flying in front of him.

“Wait, my black pouch.”

“You’re what?”

“My pouch, the one Nicholas gave to me with my supplies in it. It’s still in the grass.” Gabby pointed desperately out the side window, his fingertips hitting the glass.

Montana looked toward the sky that was just showing signs of pink as he put the truck in park. They needed to hurry. Black pouch be damned if they ran out of time.

He sighed as he got out with his mate, helping him search for it. Damn thing would have to be black.

He heard a delighted squeal as Gabby dipped down. “Got it.” Gabby beamed as he held it up for show.

“Let’s go, we’re cutting it close.” Montana helped his mate in then climbed in on his side. If he put the pedal to the metal, they just might make it in time. He had no choice. It was his only option as the sky turned a shade lighter.

Gabby shook his head as he set the black case on his lap. “I won’t go poof. I can handle some sun. My skin will blister if I’m out in it too long, but I wouldn’t be crispy fried. Besides, it’s only dawn, so we have no need to be alarmed yet. But if you feel the need to hurry, I won’t stop you, but just so you know I can be out in it. Unless it’s noon. Then my skin starts to burn and peel and my eyes dry out, but I carry eye drops for that, so I’m prepared just in case.”

Montana blinked at him.

His mate didn’t even stop to take a breath. It sounded like one long run-on sentence, and Montana didn’t even catch half of what the fireball said. All he could do was nod, put the truck in drive, and pull away from the soft shoulder.

Was
that
why he was called Gabby?

Montana groaned. This was going to be a long day. They made it to the house just as the sky became brighter, the sun slowly rising over the rooftop. Montana grabbed his mate and ran for the door, holding him close as he ran up the front steps. He swiped his fob to get in, and then slammed the front door closed. He hated that Nero had installed that damn lock.

“I told you I’m okay,” Gabby said as he clung to Montana.

“Not taking chances, pumpkin.” Montana ran up the steps, carrying Gabby into their room. “Let me put something heavy over the windows,” he said as he dropped his mate onto the bed.

Gabby crawled across the bed, watching as Montana raced around looking for something to block the sun out.

“I’ll order heavy drapes,” Montana said as he looked around frantically. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.” Montana shot from the room in search of something to block the windows.

“Where’s the fire?” the warrior Storm asked as he came out of his room, closing the door.

Montana skidded to a halt and spun around. “I need something to block the windows. What do you have?” He glanced at his watch and then back up at the warrior.

Storm walked into his room then came back out holding a comforter. “Best I have.”

Montana grabbed it, running back down the hall to his bedroom. He jumped up onto the window seat, damn near falling back as he tucked the blanket into the corners. He jumped down, grabbing the blanket from the bed as he covered the other one. “Let me know if it’s not enough.”

“Okay.” Gabby pulled his legs to his chest as he lay on the bed.

“Get some rest. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get too bright in here.” Montana frowned at the way his mate was scratching at his throat. Had he lain in poison ivy while trying to hide? Montana stepped closer, reaching down to stop his fireball from scratching his skin off. “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry,” Gabby whimpered.

Montana caressed his fingers, looking at his mate’s reddened skin. “What do you want to eat? I’ll go get it.”

Gabby whimpered again. The light went on over Montana’s bald head. “Blood?” he asked in revulsion. He cursed himself at the way he had said it, his mate snatching his hands away and covering his face as his shoulders shook. What should he do? “Do you need to…drink from me?”

“No!” Gabby’s hands shot out as if to stop Montana from coming any closer. “I’ve never drank from a person. The doctor always brought it in a bag and heated it. I think the idea of biting into someone is gross, so don’t go offering me your neck because I won’t take it. As thirsty as I am, I would rather drink toilet water than blood from a vein. The other full-blooded vampires do it, but it makes me nauseous just thinking about it.”

There he went again. Montana was waiting for his pumpkin to pass out from lack of oxygen. How the hell did he speed talk like that? “So how are you supposed to eat?” The thought worried him. If Gabby was used to having blood brought to him in a bag, what the hell was Montana supposed to do?

Gabby shrugged.

“I’ll talk with Doc, see what he thinks, okay?” His mate nodded as he balled into himself and closed his eyes. Montana closed the door quietly as he went in search of Nicholas. It was too early for him to leave for the clinic. He had to be somewhere around here.

He found him in the kitchen, eating a grapefruit half and reading the paper. Didn’t he know he couldn’t get fat? Something in the wolves’ saliva prevented their mates from gaining extra poundage.

“Gabby’s hungry.” Might as well get to the point.

“I know. I have to get his medical records, find out what blood type he has been taking. With his diabetes, I don’t want to chance harming him.” Nicholas sat his spoon down. “Maverick is calling Prince Christian now to see if he knows the vampire doctor who took care of Gabby.”

Montana growled, “So he’s supposed to go hungry until then?”

Nicholas turned in his seat and look up at him, a twinkle in his eye. “You could always try and feed him yourself. You are his mate after all.”

Montana ran a hand over his head as he sighed. “I offered, but he refuses to drink from me. Says it makes him nauseous just thinking about it, I think. He talked so damn fast I barely understood a word he said.” Montana chuckled. He was going to have to take a speed-listening course just to communicate.

Nicholas picked up his cup, sipping at his coffee. “I’m sorry, Montana. Until I know, I won’t risk harming him.”

An idea formed in Montana’s brain as he watched the doctor drink his coffee. Taking a glass tumbler from the cupboard, he walked back to his room.

His mate was still asleep, still rolled into a ball. Setting the glass down, Montana pulled the knife from the sheath strapped to his ankle. Hey, fighting rogues, one could never be over-prepared.

Taking a deep breath, he cut his wrist, watching as the crimson flowed down his skin and into the cup. When it was half full, he licked his wrist. A cut like that could be healed by his saliva. Anything bigger and he would have to shift to heal.

“Pumpkin, wake up.” Montana bent at the waist and lightly shook his shoulder.

* * * *

“What’s wrong?” Gabby blinked, wondering why Montana was waking him up when he could see brightness behind the blankets.

His head began to buzz as the smell slammed into him hard. His mouth started salivating as his skin felt like it was crawling with ants.

Blood.

His mate reached out and snagged Gabby around his waist, pulling him close to the edge of the bed. “Drink this, baby.”

Montana handed him a glass with blood in it. “How? Whose?”

“Mine, drink it before it gets cold.”

Gabby wanted to protest, but the smell was making his stomach claw away at him. With trembling hands he took the glass, turning his back on Montana as he balled up around the tumbler and drank it.

He drank it greedily as the taste hit his tongue and splashed down the back of his throat. His tongue skated around the inside looking for more. It wasn’t enough, but he wasn’t going to tell the wolf that. He appreciated the gesture even if it embarrassed him. He handed the glass back, not turning around.

He heard some movement, and then a moment later Montana spoke. “Here, pumpkin.”

Gabby stretched his arm back and swiped it around, not looking to see where Montana’s hand was. “Turn around, pumpkin.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No, please don’t make me.”

“If we’re going to spend the next seven centuries together, I have to see it sooner or later, so turn around.” He said it with a little more authority in his voice, which made Gabby slowly turn, his head hung down as he reached for the full glass. His hands shook as he sipped at it, trying to hunch over so Montana wouldn’t see him.

Montana sat down and pulled Gabby onto his lap, taking the glass from his hands. He put it to Gabby’s lips. “Drink.”

Gabby opened, swallowing quickly as possible so Montana wouldn’t have to watch him. Why was he making him do this in front of him? He was humiliated enough that he needed it in the first place. A hand caressed down his back as he emptied the last of it, his tongue once again licking inside the tumbler.

“Need more?”

Gabby twisted his hands in his lap, not wanting to answer the question as he licked the remnants from his lips. Montana reached onto the nightstand and grabbed a knife that Gabby hadn’t even seen sitting there. “You’ll have to hold this.” Montana handed him the glass.

“I–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, pumpkin. We’re both going to have to get comfortable with this.” Montana sliced the thin line across his wrist again, holding it over the glass. Before Gabby could stop him, his wolf laid his wrist to Gabby’s mouth.

Gabby cried out as the blood hit his tongue. What was Montana doing? “No,” he sobbed, but his lips formed a tight suction around the wound, drawing deep.

This was the first time he had drunk from the source and hell if he could stop.

* * * *

“Fuck!” Montana growled as pleasure he had never before experienced rocketed through him. His cock hardened in a millisecond. The need to fuck his mate overrode all other thought as he tossed to glass onto the nightstand and threw Gabby down onto the bed. His mate drank greedily from him as Montana yanked his jeans down with one hand. “I need to fuck you.”