Aveoth

  “I heard that.” Aveoth’s deep voice came from the darkness. “Hang on—and don’t move.”

  “You told me that. Big fall and screaming involved. Got it.”

  Lights flickered on, literally. They were dim, then blacked out, but came on again.

  She stared into a room. It looked like some kind of library, with couches, a fireplace with a mantel, and tons of wooden bookshelves loaded with books.

  “Yeah. This is so realistic,” she muttered.

  Aveoth stepped into sight and frowned. “What?”

  “It looks like a room from an old mansion but in the middle of a cave. Nope. I’m not drugged. This is just so believable.”

  He walked to her and offered his hand. “I note your wariness. Come inside. I’ll close the door.”

  “Over a cave entrance? I can’t wait to see this.” She let him lead her forward, stepping onto the hardwood flooring inside, over a metal rail at the entrance running from one side of the wide cave opening to the other.

  He released her and waved a hand in the direction they’d just come from. “Watch.” He moved to the wall and grabbed the thickest rope she’d ever seen before, a loop that ran from ceiling to floor. He started to pull the front rope downward. A slight squeaking sound, then the wall to the right moved, closing off the opening.

  “This consists of four inches of solid metal and rock. The exterior matches the cliff, so our enemies can’t spot our homes from the outside when we close these. I don’t recommend you attempt to open them yourself. They’re on rollers, but it’s still a few thousand pounds to shift.”

  “Right.” Jill was reeling inside, trying to take it all in.

  The door appeared to be covered in drywall on the inside, like the remaining walls, and painted to match the rest of the library. A painting of the sea even hung there. The seams were noticeable, since there were long strips of dark wood paneling that ran from floor to ceiling on either side of the portion that had moved.

  “We do enjoy elegance and comfortable homes.”

  She turned her head, gawking at him. He seemed so calm and matter of fact, as if he wasn’t blowing her mind.

  “Are you hungry? Perhaps you’d like a drink?”

  She glanced around the room. “I have fallen into the rabbit hole, big time.”

  He made a soft grumbling noise. “Enough.” He walked right over to her and grabbed her arms, giving her a hard shake. The cape he’d lent her fell to the floor. “You’re not on drugs and this is real. I’m growing tired of your mind trying to find a way to manage the stress of what you’ve learned. You aren’t high, or going crazy, or dreaming. I’m real, and so is all of this. Stop being as conceited as a typical human can be by believing they are the only ones who share your world.”

  His grip on her was firm but not hurtful. The tinges of panic started to rise inside her. “I think I’ll have that drink. Do you have booze? Something strong?”

  “Yes.” He backed up and released her. “That might help you deal with the shock. I’m sorry you learned of our existence this way. Your father should have told you what he was and introduced you to the truth.”

  “The sperm donor is a Gargoyle?”

  “He’s a VampLycan, and you’re half one. You don’t carry the scent of a Lycan, so I can only assume you have more Vampire traits. Do you require blood often?”

  “I don’t drink blood.” A horrifying thought struck. “Do you?”

  He walked over to a bar in the corner, stepping behind it. His muscles flexed as he lifted a large glass bottle filled with dark liquid and twisted off the lid. He placed two glasses on the counter, pouring a generous amount of booze into each. He set the bottle down and approached her with the glasses. He held one out to her.

  She took it and didn’t even bother trying to figure out what it was. She just raised the glass and took a gulp.

  It was a mistake. Tears filled her eyes, blinding her. It felt as if she’d just swallowed fire that burned from her throat all the way down to her belly. She hissed, almost losing her grasp on the glass.

  Aveoth curved his fingers over hers to help her keep hold of it. “Breathe.”

  “Shit.” She rapidly blinked, trying to clear her vision and remember how to fill her lungs. She breathed, all right. It felt as though flames should shoot out of her parted lips as she exhaled.

  “What is that? Gasoline in a glass?”

  He dipped his head, watching her. “Aged Scotch. It’s probably a bit strong for you. I could get you wine.”

  Her insides still burned but it dulled a little. She studied his face. He was really too good looking to be real, but she was starting to believe. She lowered her chin, staring at his tan, long fingers wrapped around hers over the glass. They looked so normal…but he wasn’t really a man. Not like any she’d ever met before.

  “Remain calm.” He had a soothing voice when it came out that low. “You’re safe. I wouldn’t hurt you, Jill. Your father likely avoided being part of your life because your mother was human. Decker Filmore hates that race. His son was probably ashamed of having a daughter with one. Decker wouldn’t have approved of him taking a human as a lover, much less breeding a child. It’s still no excuse for you never having learned the truth of what your father is.”

  She tried to pull out of his hold and he opened his fingers, letting go. She lifted the glass and took a smaller sip, expecting the backlash that time as she swallowed. It still burned but it didn’t make her eyes water.

  Panic and fear fought for dominance inside her. She couldn’t look at Aveoth’s face. He had freakin’ wings and claws. It wasn’t some drug-induced fantasy—it had really happened. Reality was sinking in fast. She backed up and bumped into a couch. She twisted her head, staring at the leather monstrosity. It was a big, heavy piece. Did he fly that here? Up a cliff? Oh shit!

  “I can smell your fear, Jill. There’s no need for that. Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

  She finally found the nerve to meet his gaze. Those amazing eyes, blue with silver in them. No one should have eyes like those, though. They’re too beautiful. “You’re telling me the sperm donor is some kind of half Vampire, half Werewolf?”

  “Yes. We call them Lycans, though.”

  “My mother just said he was a selfish asshole.” She took another drink.

  “He wouldn’t have revealed the truth of what he was to her unless they were bonded for life. It’s forbidden.”

  “Right.” She wanted out of there. She glanced around and spotted an open doorway. “So you’re telling me Scarface was growling because he’s really a dog?”

  “He smelled strongly of his Lycan heritage. He’s also part Vampire.”

  “And the lawyer really is a bloodsucker then?” She took another sip. It helped.

  “He smelled mostly Lycan too. It’s rare for them to actually crave human blood.”

  “I’m not in Kansas anymore.” She bit her lip, the reality of her situation bitch-slapping her hard. She downed the rest of the drink. “Fuck me.”

  She hurled the glass at Aveoth’s broad chest and spun, rushing toward the only exit, an open doorway.

  She had to get out of there.

  It was pitch-black once she left the room. But she needed to escape. She bumped into a wall and put out both hands, blindly trying to feel her way around for another light switch.

  Aveoth cursed loudly from nearby. He was coming after her.

  She shoved away from the wall and just ran blind. Her foot caught on something and she pitched forward. Pain exploded into her ribs where she impacted with a solid and unforgiving object. It moved, and she cried out as it seemed to collapse under her, then her head struck something, hard.

  Aveoth’s strong, warm hands gripped her. “Damn it. You’re bleeding.”

  She couldn’t see a thing. Her fingers touched what seemed like hard wood, whatever she’d landed on. He adjusted her, rolling her gently. She ended up lying on the floor, on her back.

  “I’m going to c
arry you to bed and tend to you,” he rasped.

  “Get away from me!” She tried to wiggle out of his reach but her head hurt. It felt as if she’d been nailed with a hammer on her forehead.

  “Be still, my little rabbit. I’m going to take care of you. You’re safe with me.”

  “Rabbit?”

  “You’re the one who said you fell into a rabbit hole. I understood the reference. You saw the books in my library. It’s one in my collection.”

  “Great. Gargoyles read.”

  “We do a lot of things.” He released her, sliding his arms under her back and behind her knees. “Don’t fight me. There’s no need.”

  He lifted her and nausea made her stomach roll. She reached up and touched her throbbing head. It was wet and warm. “I am bleeding.”

  “I’m aware. You ran right into one of the guards.”

  “We’re not alone?”

  “It’s a large carved wooden statue of a guard. I own a few of them. You knocked him over. I think you hit your head on the shield he holds.”

  “I don’t even want to know.” She was afraid enough. She closed her eyes and didn’t fight when blackness stole in to take her. She’d never fainted in her life, but it seemed like a good time for it to be a first.

  Chapter Four

  Aveoth carried Jill into the bedroom next to his. He didn’t bother with the lights. His night vision was excellent. He gently deposited her on the bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom they’d share. He grabbed a hand towel and turned on the water. It would be cold but she couldn’t object. She’d passed out. He just hoped it was from fear and not a severe injury.

  He returned to her quickly and cleaned away the worst of the blood. Only then did he reach out to the lamp and turn it on. The slight cut near her hairline was small but it bled a lot. He held his breath, focusing on her. He listened to her slow and steady heartbeat. It was normal for someone sleeping. The scent of her blood instantly tormented him.

  That wasn’t all that did. He glanced at her cleavage.

  So much for him taking her to his bed and stripping her naked. Jill was injured and afraid.

  He’d never liked Decker’s youngest son. He’d met him on a few occasions, when Decker had sent him with messages into GarLycan territory. The VampLycan had seemed spineless. His dislike increased for Jill’s sake. He wanted to kill Decker, and now his son as well. Decon had a child with a human and had abandoned her to be raised in the human world.

  It was a miracle a pack of Lycans or a nest of Vampires hadn’t killed Jill. She smelled mostly human but he picked up the faint trace of other on her. They would have too. Then again, he hadn’t smelled it until she’d bled. Decon had to know his daughter would possibly be hunted without a clan to protect her. She also could have been born with traits that revealed she wasn’t fully human. He assumed she didn’t have any special talents, or she wouldn’t be so shocked by what she’d learned.

  He calmed a little when he realized she wasn’t severely injured. The cut wasn’t deep. The Scotch might have been too strong for her. She did seem totally human, and she wasn’t a big one. He leaned in and watched her expression in sleep. Her features were attractive. She had a straight, near perfect nose and full, kissable lips. The urge to brush his mouth over hers became strong, but he resisted.

  The blood on her forehead drew his attention.

  Vamps had the ability to heal small wounds on humans. He wondered if he could do the same. He’d never had the opportunity to test it. He licked his lips and then drew even closer to her, bracing his hands on each side of her shoulders. He opened his mouth and gently ran his tongue over the small cut.

  He closed his eyes and suffered a massive, instant hard-on as the taste of her sweet blood hit him. His fangs shot out of their own accord and it caused him to jerk back. A raw hunger clawed at him to bite that inviting neck of hers. He even glanced at it, looking for the perfect spot. He could almost sense the pulsing vein.

  No!

  He turned his head and fought his instincts. No one had ever affected him that way. He’d had to take some blood from Lane, but it had seemed more of a chore than real pleasure when he’d bitten her. The urge hadn’t risen much in the years she’d been his lover. They’d been strangers, for the most part, who shared intimate moments when she went into heat. He avoided her unless she needed him.

  Thinking of the tall VampLycan who’d shared his home helped him cool his lust. Lane would always be a grim reminder that he seemed fated to lose any woman he allowed to get too close to him. Lane had been unhappy but she’d refused to leave when he’d offered her freedom.

  Then one day he’d gone hunting…and returned to find her gone.

  At first, he believed she’d just decided to visit her family living with one of the clans. He’d asked the sentry when she planned to return. The confused look on the man’s face had alarmed him. There had been no way for Lane to leave without one of his men flying her from the cliffs, and none of them had seen her.

  It had taken him five minutes to locate her body where she’d plunged to her death.

  It might have been an accident, but Aveoth didn’t believe it. And Lane’s scent had been the only one inside his home. It meant that she’d ventured out onto the ledge by herself. She never did that since she feared heights. The only reasonable assumption was that she’d taken her own life. She’d chosen death over remaining with him or returning to her family.

  “I’m not going to let that happen to you,” he softly rasped. “That’s a promise, Jill.” He picked up the cloth and tenderly dabbed her forehead to clean away the rest of the blood. More surfaced. The wound wasn’t healing.

  He frowned, wondering what he’d done wrong or if he hadn’t obtained that gift with his minimal Vampire traits.

  He leaned forward, his fangs still out. He licked at the wound again. The taste of Vampire was weak but there. The Lycan in her was so faint it was just a slight aftertaste. She was mostly human. He paused and leaned back. The wound bled still.

  He remembered something then, and used a fang to pierce his tongue to draw his own blood. He leaned in and licked the wound once more before easing back again.

  It no longer bled. He watched, amazed, as the cut began to heal. Aveoth smiled and bit the same spot on his tongue, running it across the slight cut a few more times. He stopped and watched as it completely sealed. Her skin mended so much that within a minute, he couldn’t even see where she’d been injured. He tended to her injured wrists the same way. The tiny scratches disappeared.

  He rose up and removed her shoes. He studied her clothing, wanted to take those off too but didn’t. Jill might believe he’d done something nefarious to her if she awoke naked in a strange bed. He did cover her with part of the blanket by folding it from the other side. He left the lamp on so she wouldn’t waken in the dark. That might frighten her too.

  He entered the bathroom and closed the door. He had blood on his pants from his earlier fight. He turned on the shower and tried to ignore the state of his body. Arousal wasn’t something he suffered often but Jill was in the next room. He wanted her.

  A list of precautions formed in his head as he quickly stripped. Jill would try to escape again. He would too, in her place. All the exterior entrances needed to be sealed. She wasn’t strong enough to open them on her own. He could barricade the stairwell to the lower floor with a large, heavy piece of furniture. A guard placed at the front door would not only keep her in, but protect her from anyone trying to reach her.

  Some of his clan wouldn’t be thrilled to have Jill at the cliffs. The full-blooded Gargoyles would attempt to turn his people against him. That was a given. They’d question his leadership, his mental stability, and even his loyalty to the clan for taking a human with VampLycan blood as a mate. Vampires had been the enemy of Gargoyles for millennia. That old hatred remained strong in the ancient ones. GarLycans, for the most part, were more tolerant since they’d aligned with the VampLycans. They just didn’t bree
d with them.

  Aveoth finished his shower and dried quickly, entering his room from the bathroom. He put on black sleeping pants and located the secondary cell phone he kept charging on his bedside table. He picked it up and placed a call. Kelzeb answered on the second ring.

  “What’s wrong?”

  That amused him. “Who said anything was?”

  “This isn’t your official line. It’s your private one.”

  “I need to speak to you. Come to my living quarter—and be silent. I have company.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  He hung up and checked on Jill. She still slept. He used the door out of her room to gain access to the rest of his home, and crept down the hall until he reached the living room and open kitchen area. It didn’t take long for his best friend to step out of the darkness. Aveoth grinned at the sight of Kelzeb gripping a sword, a dagger strapped to his bare thigh in a holster while he sported a pair of loose boxer shorts.

  Kelzeb sniffed and instantly frowned.

  “You can lower your blade. There’s no threat here. Decker called me with a deal. You’re scenting a granddaughter we never knew about. Decon had a human lover, got her pregnant, and abandoned them both in the human world. Decker had a few of his enforcers grab the now-adult daughter and bring her to me.”

  “Let me guess. He wants you to give him his clan back and your promise to help him wipe out the other clans?”

  “He would have tried if I hadn’t cut him off. I gave him nothing except the promise he could live as long as he doesn’t return to Alaska or start more shit with the clans. I won’t actively hunt for him until he gives me cause.” Aveoth curled his lip. “He will.”

  “She agreed to be given to you?”

  “No. Her name is Jill, and she didn’t even know anything but humans existed until Decker had her snatched.”

  “Fuck.” Kelzeb placed his sword on the table, then ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair.

  “I apologize if I woke you.”

  “You should have woken me before you went to get the woman. It could have been a trap.”