Scarlet Heat (Born to Darkness) (21 page)

“LeeAnn said he was fucking a vamp,” said a
second voice, sounding disgusted. “Looks like he’s letting her feed on him
too—fucking degenerate.”

In a flash, the heat I was feeling turned to cold
fear. My fangs retracted and I stiffened against Victor, my heart going triple
time.

Before I had time to react more than that, Victor
was in action. He sprang off the bar stool, knocked the hand off my shoulder
and pushed me behind him, all in what seemed like one smooth motion.

From behind his broad shoulder, I could see three
large, angry men surrounding us. The smell of wet dog was coming from all of
them. I wrinkled my nose—was this what other werewolves smelled like? Ugh, no
wonder my kind didn’t like them.

“The fuck do you want?” Victor growled. “How dare
you bother me when I’m out with my wife?”

“His
wife?
You
hear that?” The lead guy—the one I assumed had grabbed my shoulder, made a
disgusted face. He was wearing a t-shirt with three wolves howling at the moon
on it. “He bonded himself to a
fanger.”

“That’s forbidden—not to mention fucking sick,”
the second one, who had a black tribal tattoo inked on one side of his face, said.

The third one simply growled and popped his
knuckles, which seemed to gleam strangely in the dim light. Was he wearing
something on them? A weapon? I narrowed my eyes—yes, he was wearing brass
knuckles except they appeared to be made of silver, not brass. Great.

“I got no quarrel with you,” Victor said to them.
“I’m not in your pack and I’m not planning to join.”

“Pack law still applies,” Tribal Tattoo said.

“No, it doesn’t—not off pack land.” Victor took a
step forward and rubbed his lower back as though he had a pain there. “Just
leave us alone and we’ll go our separate ways. Trust me, boys, you do
not
want to fuck with me tonight.”

“Oh yes, we fucking do,” Three Wolf Moon Shirt
growled. “You’re fucking around with the natural order of things—we can’t let
that stand. It’s an offense.”

“To who—LeeAnn?” Victor demanded. “I don’t want
anything to do with her.”

“Then you can deal with us instead.” Brass
Knuckles stepped forward and took a swing.

He must have caught Victor by surprise because
his fist connected with Victor’s cheek, whipping his head back and to the side.
For a split second, I saw his face—the eyes glowing gold in the dim club, his
lips curled back in a snarl that showed he had fangs of his own—short but very
sharp. And then he turned to face the men again, a low growl emanating from his
big body.

“You fuckers,” he snarled and sprang into action.

It was three against one but none of the other
men stood a chance once Victor took after them. The Latin beat still pumped in
the background, the lights strobing on the dance floor as they fought. We were
in a dark corner but I couldn’t help wondering how long it would be before
someone saw us and called the cops.

The other weres didn’t even try to fight
fair—they all came at Victor at once but it didn’t seem to matter—he was like a
machine. The back of his jacket split with a low purring sound as he punched
one man and elbowed another in the face. Then the third, Brass Knuckles, came
at him from behind and punched him in the kidneys. Victor groaned and put a
hand to his lower back, his eyes glowing even brighter.

I had been frozen before, standing just outside
the sphere of the action. But seeing the way they were ganging up on the man I
cared about turned the ice that surrounded me into pure, hot hate.

“You bastard!” I yelled. I’ve never been much of
a fighter before—okay, I’ve always been a big wimp, I admit it—but I jumped on
the guy’s back and sank my fangs into his neck from behind.

He let loose with a high-pitched wail and forgot
all about Victor as he tried to dislodge me.

“It bit me! It bit me!” he screamed, sounding
more like a little girl than a big tough werewolf. He spun in circles until I
was dizzy, trying to get me off him.

I bit him again even though his blood tasted oily
and disgusting on my tongue. I sank my fangs in deep and snarled in his ear.
Honestly, I hardly knew myself. Where was Taylor, the shy little girl who never
stood up to bullies? Where was the doormat Celeste had stepped on for so many
years?

She was gone. In her place was a wild woman—a
woman who cared enough to fight for her man.
I’m a vampire,
I reminded myself as I clawed Brass Knuckles in the
face, taking grim satisfaction at the feeling of my nails sinking into his
flesh.
I can take these bastards!

“Hey! Hey, break it up!” The voice seemed to be coming
from far away. I was so into my attack I could barely hear. From somewhere near
the front of the club, voices were shouting and someone was yelling, “It’s a
fight—they’re fighting!”

Then someone was prying me off the screaming were
and pulling me toward the dusty exit door. I tried to go back—I wasn’t through
with him yet. Wasn’t done taking revenge for his attack on my man.

“Come on,” Victor said in my ear, pulling harder
on my arm. “We have to go—they’re sending the police!”

That finally got through to me. I didn’t want to
spend the rest of the night in a holding cell and be stuck in the police
station during the day when the sun was up. I went with Victor, my heels
clattering on the floor as he hit the push bar of the exit door.

The door slapped open, revealing a dark alley lit
only by a single anemic streetlight. It shed a sickly yellow glow over the
stained pavement and crumbling brick walls. Behind us, I could hear shouting
and angry voices but Victor didn’t slow down.

I risked a quick glance over my shoulder as we
raced through the door and saw some men in uniforms converging on the spot we
had been fighting. The three weres were lying on the floor, all obviously
injured. Three Wolf Moon’s leg was bent at a wrong angle and Tribal Tattoos was
holding his arm and howling. Brass Knuckles was still scrabbling at his bleeding
neck, sobbing like a little girl that he had been bitten.

Then the door slammed shut and Victor and I were
running blindly down the alley, just trying to get away.

Chapter Sixteen—Victor

After about three blocks, we stopped, panting,
and I was able to take stock of the situation. The burning of the brand at my
lower back had subsided somewhat and I was feeling more in control, which was
good.

I looked at Taylor, wanting to make sure she was
all right. Her hair was wild and there was blood smeared like lipstick in the
corners of her mouth. Her eyes were shining in the dim light.

“You okay?” I asked her warily. I was still a
little in awe of her performance back at the club. I hadn’t thought she had it
in her to get so wild but I’d had to literally
peel
her off the were with the silver knuckles and she’d made
fucking hamburger out of his neck.

“I think so.” She spat on the ground and then
looked at me. “Oh, sorry—I guess that wasn’t very ladylike. I just, uh…that
guy’s blood tastes
awful.”

“Baby, nothing you just did was ladylike. It was
still fucking amazing, though.” I grinned at her. “Didn’t know you could get so
crazy—you messed that guy up bad.”

“He was hurting you. I saw him punch you here.”
Her hand went to the small of my back where the brand was still throbbing.

I jumped away from her touch reflexively. I
couldn’t have her hands on me there—not when the curse was weighing so heavily
on me. Strong emotions—excitement, anger, lust, fear—always brought the monster
inside me closer to the surface. I’d had enough of all those feelings to take me
right to the edge tonight—it wouldn’t take much to push me over.

“Sorry,” Taylor exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to make
it worse—are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I assured her, taking her hand,
mostly to keep it from wandering to my back again. “Still just a little jumpy,
I guess.”

She frowned. “I don’t believe you. Let’s go home
so I can get a good look at you and heal you.”

The thought of her small, pink tongue caressing
my skin to heal me as she did when she healed her bite marks on my neck made me
instantly hard. Inside me, the beast roared and far above my head I could hear
the call of the moon. She was still three days from being full but her call was
strong all the same.

“Uh…” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know if
that’s such a good idea, baby.”

“Of course, it’s a good idea.” Taylor started
walking, pulling me along as we made our way through the streets of Ybor to the
parking garage. “But I want to take a shower first. I have to get this stink
off me.”

“What stink?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“Couldn’t you smell it? Those other guys—they
smelled like wet dog. Gross.” Her nose wrinkled and she looked at me. “Is that
what other weres smell like to vampires?”

I frowned. “I guess. They smelled like normal
weres to me.”

“But not like you,” Taylor said. “Your smell…you
smell so
good.”

“You smell good to me too, baby,” I murmured,
squeezing her hand lightly. I wanted to add that she smelled hot—like she was
in need. All evening her scent had been driving me crazy—that warm feminine
spice that let me know her pussy was wet and ready to be fucked—to be bred. But
I held back—I wanted her to come to me, not the other way around.

She blushed, her pale cheeks going pink.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…I wonder
why you smell and taste so different from other weres.”

I shrugged. “Who knows? So you didn’t like that
guy’s blood?”

She made a face. “It was
awful.
Like tasting dirty motor oil and sweat mixed together.”

“What’s mine like?” I asked curiously. She’d been
drinking from me for almost a month but this was the first time we’d really had
this conversation.

Her face lit up. “It’s
amazing.
Like some kind of really rare, delicious liquor—it warms
me up from the inside out. It’s kind of like drinking liquid sunshine.”

I barked a laugh. “You’re making me think I
should sell the stuff. If everybody liked it as much as you I’d be a
millionaire inside a month.”

“Don’t you dare,” she said with mock severity.
“You’re
mine
—I don’t want anyone else
drinking from you. Ever.”

The possessiveness in her voice sent a thrill
through me and made my cock even harder. God, I loved to hear her talk like
that—like we belonged to each other. Like we would be together forever.

“I’m all yours,” I promised her, squeezing her
hand again. “As long as you remember you’re mine too.”

She murmured something too soft to hear.

“What?” I asked, glancing at her.

“The Laws of Ownership,” she said and this time
her face went positively red. “I never understood before but maybe…maybe that’s
what this…this feeling is all about.”

I nodded slowly. “Corbin said you would belong to
me and I would belong to you. I guess I never really got it, either.” I got it
now, though. Got the fact that I wanted her with me always.

I wondered if she felt the same way. Or if she
ever would.

We walked in thoughtful silence back to my truck.

* * * * *

Taylor

Victor was quiet on the way home and I wasn’t
exactly a chatterbox myself. I kept thinking about what I felt—the
possessiveness, the protectiveness. The willingness to throw myself into danger
when I saw him being hurt. Was this what it felt like to be in love? It had
been so long since I had any kind of romantic relationship that it was hard to
tell. But even comparing with the few flings I’d had in college, the feelings I
had for Victor seemed so much stronger, so much more
intense
.

The question was, did he feel the same for me?

When we got home I got straight into the shower,
wanting to wash the stink of the other were off my skin. I washed with the
hottest water I could stand and shampooed my hair too. When I got out, I
brushed my teeth, paying special attention to my fangs. I wanted to get rid of the
taste completely.

When I finally felt clean, I put on my usual
nighttime sleepwear—one of Victor’s white t-shirts, which fell to mid thigh. I
rubbed my long hair with a towel until it was just barely damp and brushed it
out. It fell in long waves down to the small of my back.

When I got back to the bedroom, Victor was lying
on the bed, wearing just a pair of black sleep pants. He looked me up and down
and gave a long, low whistle.

“What?” I looked down at myself nervously. “I’m
just wearing what I always wear to bed.”

“Yeah, but I’m usually in my wolf form by then,” he
pointed out. “As a wolf, I mainly like the way you smell. When I’m human, I can
appreciate the way you look. And baby, you look
beautiful.”

“I just got out of the shower,” I protested,
putting a hand to my hair. “I don’t even have any makeup on.”