Beast Coast (A Carus Novel Book 2) Read online

  “Wick.” Lucien’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Bring Andy before me and hold her still.”

  I watched in horror as Wick, the man I wanted to open my heart to, staggered toward me. A whole new slew of raw emotions erupted, but none of them pleasant. Wick’s yellow irises bore into mine. His face strained with effort, fighting Lucien’s control and failing with each step. “Don’t make me do this, Lucien,” Wick choked out.

  The Vampire smiled and leaned forward. “The sooner you accept my complete dominion over you, my little pup, the easier your life will become. Now, bring her to me.”

  Wick lurched to where I stood. When his big calloused hands closed around my arms—his touch warm, but firm—Allan and Clint let go. Wick gave a gentle tug for me to step forward. My legs stiffened. His brow creased when I resisted.

  My wolf paced in my head, confused. Mate, she repeated over and over again, sounding less sure with each frantic breath. My mountain lion yowled, yearning to break free and my falcon flapped her wings.

  Wick led me to face Lucien, leaving Allan and Clint somewhere behind us—their presence, a discomforting pressure at my back. Clint’s arousal plugged my nose.

  “Make her kneel before me.” Lucien’s half-hooded eyes watched me.

  Wick tugged down on my arms, but my knees locked.

  “Please,” Wick whispered. He switched to mind speech. Don’t fight me. I don’t want to hurt you.

  Screw you, Wick, I flung back.

  “Now,” Lucien demanded.

  Wick forced me down. Pain lanced through my muscles as my knees buckled under the pressure and slammed against the hard stone.

  I’m so sorry, Andy, Wick said.

  Lucien’s smile widened as he stepped forward. “Hold her still,” he said to the Alpha. “We don’t want her to flinch and scar badly. I like my marks clean.”

  For a moment I remained frozen, trying to figure out another way to interpret Lucien’s words.

  No, he couldn’t mean—

  My arms shook, the skin where Wick held me felt encased in molten-hot shackles. The beast stirred, flowing fast to rise up to take control. She would teach them all.

  Wick’s eyes met mine and cold numbness swept through my body as a stronger fear replaced the old. I couldn’t let the beast out. The one and only time I had…I destroyed a whole pack. I couldn’t risk hurting Wick.

  The beast surged within my skin, and I pushed her down. The only thing that scared me more than Lucien was a world without Wick.

  “How is this even possible?” I asked, hating the quiver in my voice. “You already have a human servant.”

  Lucien smiled. “Master Vampires develop unique skills as the centuries roll by and they amass power.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Just as some Vampires acquire the skill to call and control one specific type of animal, like wolves or leopards, some, like myself, are able to blood bond more than one servant.”

  “Don’t do this, Lucien,” I said.

  Lucien shook his head before bending to the soft tissue of my neck.

  I’m so sorry, Andy, Wick said with a raw voice that scratched my heart. His fingers gently brushed back my hair, while his palms squished my cheeks and jaw. Tears streaked down his cheeks and splattered against my face, hot against my skin.

  “Don’t!” I lurched my body forward in an attempt to twist away, but my head, clamped between Wick’s hands stayed immobile as my lower half flailed around. “Fuck you, Lucien. Don’t you da—”

  The sharp pain of Lucien’s fangs piercing my neck cut me off. His embedded teeth, foreign and wrong, violated my body. A cold numbing wave started at my toes and flowed up my body. My skin tingled as if I’d opened the door to a walk-in freezer.

  The acrid scent of blood sprung from my neck and flooded the air, tinged with pine and fear. Lucien patted my hair and despite his sophisticated air, ate like a messy two-year-old. The sounds of him slurping filled the room. His wet tongue licked my skin. Blood trailed down my neck and seeped into the neckline of my shirt.

  I dropped my head back, using the only control I had left to keep the beast locked down.

  Wick no longer had to hold me, but he didn’t let go. My face looked serene, as if I slept.

  What the fuck? How can I see my own face?

  I looked down at my body, floating while observing the scene through fuzzy glasses, like I had many times with Dylan to escape the pain and humiliation he inflicted on my body all those years ago. But something made this time different, something worse.

  Where are my feras?

  For the first time since pubescence, I couldn’t feel or hear them.

  Guys? Wolf? You there?

  No one answered. My security blanket had been ripped away.

  Lucien’s head snapped up—his mouth ringed with my blood, a dazed but pleased expression on his face. He licked his lips.

  I slammed back into my body and forced my eyes open, the small movement difficult, as though I’d been woken up at three in the morning and hadn’t gained control of all my limbs yet. Everything felt heavy, as if drugged.

  My eyes fixated on Lucien’s fangs and smiling lips. That’s my blood. He drank way more than he had to for a blood bond. Disturbing that I knew that.

  “I like the taste of you, Shifter.” He licked his lips again, and stroked my cheek. The skin around his mouth stained pink. “You taste like a cold mountain spring. And remind me of running through the forest during the summertime of my youth.” He leaned down and took a deep breath in, smelling me, scenting my blood. “Ahh…” He smiled and rubbed his thumb on my bottom lip. “So fresh.”

  Icy fingers curled around my fast-beating heart and squeezed. Breathe woman!

  Lucien looked over my head. Wick still stood there holding me. I’d forgotten about him.

  “Hold her mouth open,” Lucien ordered.

  No!

  My silent protest did nothing to prevent Wick’s strong hands from clamping on my jaw and head, and prying my mouth open. The same hands that had caressed and embraced me in a lover’s hold. They would never be the same again.

  Lucien withdrew a knife and slashed his wrist open in one stroke. The sight of his ceremonial blade blurred with speckles of black dots and my breath came in and out in short huffs of air. My heartbeat pumped hard in my eardrums, drowning out all other sound. This is happening. I can’t stop this. He held his wrist over my mouth and let his blood spill into it. Then, he pressed his arm forcibly against my mouth.

  The lukewarm blood hit the back of my mouth, gagging me. I tried to cough and spit it out, but Wick’s unrelenting grasp prevented it. Squirming and writhing around in Wick’s embrace did little to deter anyone.

  I’m so sorry, Wick said. Forgive me. I’d kill him for this if I could.

  My mouth filled up with the viscous slew of filth; warm, from my own blood’s heat.

  Lucien withdrew and nodded at Wick. He held my mouth shut. I tried to spit it out, but his hand covered my lips. I choked on the backlash of blood and swallowed involuntarily. The liquid heated as it travelled down my throat, and slithered into my stomach. It hit my core and pain radiated out. My muscles spasmed and shook as my body fought the link.

  Lucien touched his forehead to mine. He mumbled something in a foreign language, maybe Latin. Intense fire flared up inside and flashed to my fingers and toes. When it faded, it left me cold and shivering.

  I sank to the floor, pulling Wick down with me. “You said no harm,” I gasped.

  “And no lasting physical harm has befallen you. In fact, some would argue, you’re better off now than you were before. I’ve kept my word.”

  “We have a different definition of harm.” I curled my body into a small ball. “You promised answers about being the Carus.”

  “I never promised answers. I wished to discuss your future, and now it’s been determined.” Lucien’s voice reflected the smug look on his face. “You’re mine.”

  Chapter Two

&nbs
p; “…men [don’t] care about the number on the tag of a woman’s pants, they just [want] to get in them.”

  ~Andrea McNeilly

  I should never be woken up at three in the morning by a troop of drunken lunatics belting out off-key versions of 80s remix songs. Normally, I’d correct my neighbours with a fist in the face, but in this case, I made an exception—I didn’t like the dream they interrupted anyway. Instead of my usual nightmares filled with memories of the sadistic man who ruined eleven years of my life and all the horrible things he did to me, I dreamt of Wick.

  The bonding happened over a week ago, but time did little to dull the pain. As the memory of the Werewolf Alpha flickered through my mind, my gut clenched, and a sharp jab punched my chest as if a pissed off Harry Potter stabbed my heart instead of Tom Riddle’s diary.

  Andrea McNeilly, get a hold of yourself! You’re hella pissed at Wick. Stop acting like an angsty teenager.

  The neighbours rattled off a few more songs while I lay in bed and tried to ignore the images of Wick’s anguished expression when he held me down for Lucien to blood bond me, but then the opening music to another 80s hit drifted through my condo.

  Enough.

  I stumbled out of bed and into my office. The sight of my empty living room sent another series of stabbing pains to my heart, but this time, ones of loneliness. If I’d been born a normal Shifter, I’d have an animal familiar to keep me company. But instead of a warm and fuzzy fera, I had voices in my head.

  My neighbours reached the chorus, chanting about the final countdown.

  Gah! At least three inept males threw me a pity party and didn’t even know it.

  Storming to my desk I grabbed a black marker and a sheet of paper from the feed of my printer. Like a mad scientist, I scribbled down a message:

  Dear Morons,

  Thank you for keeping me up all night. Had I been able to sleep through a stampede of screaming elephants, I would’ve missed your mediocre rendition of songs from over three decades ago. Your singing is the worst thing I’ve heard since the latest reality show’s blooper reel.

  Shouting along with the music does nothing to hide your lack of rhythm, pitch or how badly you’re messing up the lyrics.

  I despise you. Please stop or I’ll silence you myself.

  Your sleep deprived and deeply pissed-off neighbour

  I sat back to take a look at my handiwork before flinging myself out of the desk chair, and marching into the hallway. I glared at the neighbours’ door. I hadn’t met them yet. They moved in while I was busy running around like a headless chicken trying to pay my debt to Lucien.

  And look where that got me. Blood bonded. Now the Master Vampire haunted my head like another animal, influencing my thoughts and pulling my attention in yet another direction. Theoretically, at least. He’d been pretty quiet so far, which made me wonder what he was up to. I didn’t know what he wanted with me, aside from my value as a collector’s item, and I didn’t really want to find out. Ignorance was bliss, or at least it had been for the last week.

  I should’ve used the time to find out more about my neighbours, but instead, I’d moped around my place and spent hours feeling sorry for myself. It was an occupational hazard not to be aware of everything in my vicinity. Know all and be known by none. Ever since I got involved with Lucien, things went to hell, including my professional integrity. If the Supernatural Regulatory Division found out about the blood bond, I’d be out of a job. Badass SRD assassin, my ass.

  Sniffing the air immediately made me recoil. Pine-scented cleaner—so strong it stung my eyes. I backed away from the door in a sneezing fit.

  Whatever.

  With my shirt pulled up over my nose, I folded my ranting letter and slipped it under their door. They were so drunk, they probably wouldn’t see it until the morning, but at least the letter might put a stop to future karaoke sessions.

  Loud and proud, I marched back to my apartment and slammed the door behind me.

  Their song ended, and I held my breath in the silence that followed. Maybe they wanted applause? They wouldn’t get any. If the other owners in the building were anything like me, they’d more likely band together to tar and feather my neighbours than support their inept nocturnal habits.

  The silence stretched. Please, let it be over.

  The crickets, stupefied by the earlier noise competition, gained confidence and started to pick up their usual tune. No singing. Finally!

  Flopping onto my bed, I shut my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of sinking into the mattress.

  The beeping of my phone fractured the stillness—cutting my relaxation to shreds.

  Text message.

  Groaning, I rolled over and grabbed the phone.

  A text from Clint: Your presence is required.

  When? I texted back.

  Now.

  I glanced at my clock. It’s four in the morning.

  Then you better hurry.

  Cursing, I flung back the blankets and marched to the living room, tearing off my clothes with each step. I threw open the window and willed the change. Sharp flash of pain, muscles condensed, skin folded inward and feathers sprouted. The fastest way to Lucien’s was to fly.

  ****

  There was nothing worse than staring down a Master Vampire in the buff. The cool air made goose bumps prickle up on my naked skin, dashing my hopes they’d provide warmth and modest coverage. Lucien glowered at me, sprawled like an errant prince on a throne-like chair in the middle of his otherwise empty grand ballroom.

  He wore a solid gray suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, collar popped. It seemed like the house uniform, and being naked, I was definitely underdressed.

  “Could you get me a robe or something?” I hissed out of the side of my mouth at Clint, who stood beside me. Tall and built like a dense forest, Clint’s broad shoulders made a girl want to learn how to scale trees. Except me. I wanted to start a forest fire.

  A few weeks ago, I’d tried to kill him under what I thought were government orders. Turned out my handler was on the payroll of another master who wanted the Lower Mainland territory, and I’d unwittingly attempted an unsanctioned hit. A mistake I still paid for, despite having my debt expunged.

  Clint leaned in, his gelled black hair unmoving. “Where would the fun be in that?” The human servant knew how to hold a grudge. I successfully tore his throat out, which he miraculously survived, but having him request me as a play toy for all eternity from Lucien—a fate I narrowly escaped—made us even in my books.

  “I don’t think clothing is your biggest concern.” Lucien’s smooth voice interrupted whatever insult I would’ve come up with to fling at his human servant.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What should I be concerned with?”

  Lucien’s lips twitched into a slow smile. He laced his fingers together. “You’re not the least bit curious about my plans for you?”

  Part of me didn’t want to know. Part of me did. And part of me wanted to rip his guts out. The idea he had any control over me made my blood boil. I forced my fingers to unclench and examined my cuticles in an attempt to look nonchalant—attempt being the key word. The smirks around the room told me I didn’t fool anyone. “You can plot and scheme to use me all you want, but the blood bond gives your power to me. Extended life, faster healing, et cetera.” I left out our bond also gave him the ability to sense my location, and read my emotions. He didn’t need to be reminded.

  “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, Carus.” Lucien smirked. Kneel before me.

  Oh, and he had the ability of mind speech that made me do his bidding like a good little girl. I’d avoided thinking about that one, since I already had enough nightmares to fill up my sleeping dance card. I hoped to evade this hard truth altogether, but the tug of Lucien’s command made me stagger. Beads of sweat pebbled on my nose as my legs started to bend. I fought the compulsion. No.

  Lucien’s head dropped back as he bellowed a laugh. “Fight me all you want, Shifter. I
can make your life miserable and you know it.”

  The weight of his order lifted and I straightened up. If Lucien wished to force the issue, I would’ve been kneeling and licking his boots. I glanced down at the snakeskin ones he wore tonight and shivered.

  “I suggest you make it easy on the both of us and comply. You’ll find I’m very reasonable.”

  For a Vampire. The words didn’t need to be spoken. Fine. I’d play his game. At least he didn’t seem inclined to suck on my neck like a juice box. “What do you want?”

  Lucien’s eyes gleamed. If Vampires weren’t impervious to diseases, I would’ve said feverish. He moved forward on his seat as if preparing to open birthday presents. I didn’t like his expression at all. Anticipation.

  “There’s an important Vampire Summit in Portland this weekend. I am not attending, but Clint will go as my representative.”

  In his pause, dread flittered through my body. This led nowhere good and I didn’t like it one bit.

  “I want you to accompany him.”

  Fuck that. “Why?”

  Lucien’s eyebrow arched. Not many would dare to openly question a Vampire of his power. I tested his tolerance, a little, maybe a lot, but rolling over had never been my thing. A deafening silence stretched as I forced myself not to fidget or drop my gaze.

  Not submissive, my mountain lion hissed in my head.

  I cleared my throat. “I mean, why me? Surely Allan would be a better option. A loyal subject with your best interests at heart.”

  Lucien’s forehead relaxed, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You better have my ‘best interests’ at heart. Need I remind you? If I die, so do you.”

  I looked away. My life force bound to Lucien’s was the only thing stopping me from trying to rip off his head with my teeth. My good health depended on keeping this Vampire alive. Shouldn’t be too hard—he’d managed to do a fine job without me for the last, what, three, four hundred years, give or take a few centuries? I sucked at guessing vamp ages, but I knew Lucien was old. He had enough power to call wolves and bond two servants.