Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50954 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50954 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Fortunately for the state of Will’s welted ass, Maddox dropped the belt after another round of three strokes like gunshots. By this stage, Will was gripping the bed and using his hands to pull the rucked sheets against his eyes. Mad knew how to make him sob.
A kinder, gentler monster might have taken mercy on him, but not Maddox. The vampire dropped a kiss on the back of Will’s head as he straddled his whipped rear and thrust himself against the hot little bud of Will’s ass.
“How about now? Can you protect yourself now?” Maddox growled the question in Will’s ear as he surged inside him, the rock-hard girth of his cock making Will’s flesh submit.
Will could moan. Will could come.
Will could not protect himself.
3
“Where’s all the…” Lorien made a vague gesture. “Infrastructure?”
He'd been dragged out of the house by Henry almost as soon as they hung up the phone. There hadn’t been time to take any possessions or make any arrangements. One moment he’d been an acting vampire king along with all the comfort and honor that entailed, and the next he was being driven in what Henry called a pickup truck, because wolves had an unerring instinct toward vehicles with a bed in the back.
Now they were a day or so out of New York, in a forest of all places. Absolute madness. Henry had been occupying himself constructing a very flimsy looking contraption made out of what was perhaps the world’s thinnest fabric. It flapped about in the cold breeze that seemed to blow nonstop in this wet place that smelled of decay.
“What is that?” Lorien finally asked the question while internally cringing at whatever the answer was going to be.
“It's called a tent,” Henry said, having the audacity to sound somewhat proud. “We’ll sleep in here tonight.”
“A vampire in a tent is a ridiculous notion. Even worse than a vampire in crocs. Or a vampire wearing a temporary tattoo. Or a vampire appearing on daytime television.”
Henry gave Lorien a raised brow. “You're not too good for a tent,” he said. “Besides, this is where I’ll be taking shelter. You’re welcome to sit in the truck if that’s more suited to your highness.”
Lorien narrowed his eyes, knowing he probably deserved the ribbing, but not particularly wanting it.
“I didn’t hear you tell Maddox you were the one who caused the monster to wake up,” Henry added, with a significant look at Lorien.
“We don’t conclusively know it was me. Besides. He didn’t actually ask.”
Henry shook his head. “Sometimes you’re an elegant vampire. Other times you have the morality of a teenager trying to talk his way out of trouble.”
“I am a mixture of contradictions,” Lorien agreed. “As are we all. You sleep in your little tent. I’ll keep watch for anybody looking to hurt you.”
“Such a sweet boy.”
Henry almost sounded like Maddox.
Lorien watched while Henry slept. Watched and worried. He was not accustomed to having to worry about what was going to happen to someone. Henry was mortal, and that meant Henry was at risk of harm. He could not rid himself of the memory of Gideon, of the ferocity of his teeth, of the darkness of his soul, and of the intensity of his fury. In all his time as a vampire he’d never met anybody more terrifying than Maddox, but Gideon was quite literally something else. He had never been that close to such power before, and he was quite glad to be away from it now.
4
New York always looked larger from the air. Maddox had seen this city expand from a mere settlement to a grand metropolis over the years. He remembered it as clear as yesterday when Gideon was interred at the end of the second world war, heralding an age of peace and prosperity. It had been a bittersweet moment when the concrete was poured. He was fond of his maker, built of his blood, but the world was always safer without Gideon.
Will was snoring beside him in the first-class seat, oblivious to the danger they were hurtling toward. Maddox’s plan was to hand him off to Henry and Lorien as quickly as possible. Leaving Will to his own devices was out of the question. There had to be a chain of custody.
As the plane circled the runway, Maddox steeled himself for a reunion he had not anticipated happening for a very long time. Gideon’s awakenings were usually more predictable than this. Usually the drums of war had been resonating for some time, and death stalked the streets before Gideon rose.
Somewhere in the back of Maddox’s mind lurked the possibility that this was his fault somehow, that the ancient had sensed his absence, and that was what had woken him. That was a silly, sentimental thought. Gideon did not care if Maddox was near or far. He only woke for one thing: blood.