Blood Legacy: Adult Urban Fantasy (The V V Inn Book 5) (7 page)

We rest for a few minutes, lost in the glow of the moment. I pull away and lean down, planting a kiss on her red ass. “God, woman. What you do to me.”

A sultry chuckle sounds against the table. “I could have sworn that was my line.”

Images of Candy and our recent sexual escapades seep through my conscious, teasing me and making sleep on the plane impossible. A sigh of contentment escapes as a grin curls the corner of my mouth. Damn, that woman is fine. So passionate in her desires, and unselfconscious in getting
exactly
what she wants. If I close my eyes, I can still see her wiggling in discomfort with every smack of my palm.
 

I’ve had women who liked to play a little rough, but never a woman who knew what she needed and had no qualms about taking it. It’s sexy, and freeing.

All I know for sure is I want more of her. I want her every day of the week, every morning when I rise, and the seconds before I close my eyes to sleep. And all the time in between.

Holy shit. Could this be love?
 

One part of my mind immediately scoffs at the idea. Another deeper part of me realizes she’s exactly what I need and want in life. I just have to be man enough to realize it and act on it.

What about Vivian? What will she say?

Now there’s a question I can’t seem to escape. What will she say, how will she react? I have a feeling the feisty redhead is prepared for anything in life. If I’m able to remain loyal to her and still fall in love, she’ll know it from reading my mind. If I’m not…

What then? Would she kill Candy? Would her possession and jealousy push her to drastic measures?

Come on, it’s not like Vivian is a stalker with an unnatural attraction. She owns a part of you. She will always
see
the truth.

And what exactly is that truth?

Ahh… now that’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

Unwilling to examine my inner thoughts, especially when I have no idea where I stand, I decide to focus on meditating to strengthen my mental shields. I relax into the chair, reclining the seat to a sleeping position. The mental walls I’ve pictured—tall, thick, made of stone and reinforced with steel—rise around the “inner” me. Shielding my closest dreams, fears, and desires, shutting away my intimate moments with Candy… everything I value that I can’t share with the woman who is my master.

The only way I can be certain my waking thoughts don’t betray me is to control the barrier between them and the outside world. Slowly, I draw the recent memories inside the wall with me. My hope is with practice I will be able to block a casual reading of my random thoughts.

Fear of messing it up and unleashing a whole world of hurt on myself and Candy doesn’t act as the incentive you might think it would, so much as it acts as a painful reminder of what I have to lose if I don’t perfect this skill quickly.

After an hour I take a break, pulling out the folder with all the research I’ve done on witches and warlocks, wizards, and the “never turn a witch” vampire saying I discovered earlier. I didn’t find out anything new on the phrase, but I did learn more about South American magic. What the locals practice is called
Brujería
, the Spanish name for
witchcraft or witch healers, but from what I read, it seems similar to what Diane practices.
 

None of what I found could explain how Justin became such an accomplished wizard so far from where the majority of them live, which is in North America and Europe.
 

Who could have taught him? Wizards normally learn from someone else, especially as the knowledge is written and passed down. It’s not a practice one could easily pick up on their own.

Okay, maybe I’m missing something. What do I know about him so far? We’ve got a youngish guy who knows enough magic and packs enough mojo to get hired by the Tribunal. How did such a man make the initial connection? Who did he know who helped land him the job? Did he do similar work for someone else, possibly a human, and the word spread to the supernatural community?

I shake my head at the unlikelihood of such a scenario. It would make more sense that he was referred by another supernatural. What mystical creatures are native to the area? Werewolves wouldn’t have evolved there, but a pack resides there nonetheless.
 

Which reminds me, I have to stop by and pay my respects to the local pack to keep the peace. If they discover I’m there first, things could get nasty. I met the alpha, Hector, years ago on one of my visits with Vivian and Rafe to the city. He’s an amiable sort and didn’t give me too much trouble once he realized I was passing through.

I grab my tablet and open the browser, wanting to pull up a map of the city and try to recall the exact location I previously met the Buenos Aires alpha. I think it was a bar on the edge of Centro. As I scroll through the windows I opened earlier, searching for the map image, a news alert from the Argentine city pops up. Once again, I’m grateful for the convenience of traveling in a luxury jet—unlimited Internet connectivity on the long journey.

A murder was discovered late last night in a small barrio, or neighborhood, in the city. The young woman was beaten to death behind an herbal shop, no leads yet on her killer.
 

I read over the minimal details and then skim the rest of what’s happening in the city. It’s winter now in the southern hemisphere, but thankfully the weather never gets too cold in the subtropical climate. I never would have expected such a moderate fluctuation of temperatures in South America. The average for the entire year is low fifties to the mid-eighties.

Vivian and Rafe sure can pick locations for second homes. Supposedly, the couple owns residences in over a dozen countries around the world, but this is the only one I’ve visited with them since joining their two-person seethe almost eight years ago.

Closing the news site, I get back on track, examining the map carefully. I believe I first ran into the scent of the local pack in Monserrat, near the San Telmo barrio. They never took me to their “den,” for lack of a better term, or pack home, but met me in a neighborhood bar the pack frequents.
 

From what I recall, the city has around three dozen werewolves registered in their group, with maybe a few rogues who live further out, but they’d be loner wolves, rarely causing trouble with an established pack. As long as they kept to themselves and maintained a low profile, the established pack should leave them alone.

I blow up the image of the city until I find the neighborhood I’m looking for. There. Lupine Luna. That’s the place the pack hung out. I’ll have to stop by within twenty-four hours of my arrival. It’s never good to make a pack of Weres wait if you don’t have to.

Comfortable with where I need to go and what needs to be done after arrival, I turn off the device and sink into the comfortable recliner. I practice making my mental walls stronger for a few more minutes then allow my mind to drift and relax, hoping sleep will overcome me soon. I know when I arrive, Viv and Rafe will be adjusted to night hours, and I’ll need to keep up.
 

It’ll be good to see them both again. I stifle the old urges threatening to burst through my carefully constructed mental walls, content for once with the platonic, but loving relationship, the three of us now have. And then there’s Candy. My pants get tight as my mind drifts to smacking the shifter’s tight butt.

My hands itch to yank my zipper down and pleasure myself on our memories. What the hell? Why not? The sound of the zipper rasping down in the dark cabin forces more blood to my heated flesh. Might as well enjoy the rest of the flight.

CHAPTER TEN

Vivian

Even though I missed my husband while I was on the island and he was here in the city, today proved that some days we need a mental break from each other. He knew I was annoyed and frustrated last night, and he gave me the space I needed. Today he worked on the new house while I slept, not revealing any details to me when he returned. The sneaky bugger.
 

He woke me before sunset and we made love again. The tension between us earlier has vanished. I’m not sure if its removal was due to pent up testosterone, but it could be. Rafe is smiling like a Cheshire cat. Could be the small sips of blood he took from me at the end, but I rather think he’s just in a more mellow mood after an explosive orgasm.

After a short drive, we’re lounging in the hangar, waiting for Jon’s plane to arrive.

“I miss him,” Rafe says, a tinge of shock in his voice.

“And why is that surprising? He’s been with us a long time and before this trip, we’d rarely go two days without seeing him. This month-long separation has been hard for all of us.”

“I bet he won’t feel the same. I think he’s been having his own private ‘Vivian-free Vacation’ without you.”
 

The grin on my lover’s face doesn’t amuse me. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean? I
wanted
him to have time without me. He deserved it. He needed time that was his own. To find someone he can share his heart with.”

“Ahh... but will you let him find love?”

“I wish both of you would give me more credit. I’m not some sniveling teenager filled with angst, living in some misdirected love triangle.” The immature tone in my voice sounds like I should be stomping my foot in emphasis. Yeah, that’s sad. “I want him happy.”

“Yeah, just not as happy as he is with you, right?”

“I resent that. He’s with me because he has to be. Because he pledged himself to me. He’s happy because I work hard to
make
him happy. That’s not the same as being happy on your own.” I slump in my chair, annoyed Rafe is badgering me about this right now. “Do you doubt my sincerity? Do you think I want him pining after me forever?”

“No,” he says softly, drawing me into his arms. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. And I’m sorry I’ve brought this topic up so poorly. I’m concerned with how you will react when he chooses a mate.”

“Hmph.” I glare at him, the desired effect lost because I can’t stay mad at him when I’ve missed him and every other thought in my head turns to tearing his clothes off for more sex. “I think I’ll surprise you both when he finds a mate.”

“We’ll see.”

The topic is thankfully dropped and I quiz him about the properties he’s purchased. They all sound like suitable choices and I’m excited to finally see one tonight.

“I spent all day preparing the first place. It’s the one nearest to Justin’s house, too.”

I nod to indicate I’m listening, but I’m more interested in the arrival of Jon’s plane. The attendant knocks on the door, alerting us the time is now.

I bounce out of my seat and stride toward the door, glancing back over my shoulder at my husband. He shakes his head at my exuberance and joins me. The hangar is windy, the engines stirring up the air, sending my long hair flying around me.

In a few minutes, Jon leaves the sleek jet. His shorter, stockier body a sight for sore eyes.
 

“Jon!” I quickly close the distance between us, and wrap my arms around him in a big hug. His arms come around my waist and a deep sigh releases from his chest. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same here,” he mumbles. He pulls back from my embrace, a crooked grin on his face. “‘Bout time you two came to your senses and sent for me.” He winks at Rafe rather than his regular glare, which is what I thought he was going to do after the mild rebuke.
 

Rafe pats him on the back. “Yeah, well, we can’t get what we want all the time. How is everyone back home?”

Jon looks away and then back to my husband. “Good, good. You know what’s going on from talking to Asa and me earlier.”

I sense there’s much he’s not telling us, right below his surface thoughts, and do my best to not rifle through his private musings to find out what he’s not sharing. I set up the big game hunt with available women last month for a reason. I’ll be damned if I muck it up by pumping him for details when he obviously wants to keep what occurred private.

“Nothing new to share?” Rafe presses, much to my dismay. If he was standing closer I’d kick him. Guys are shitty with subtlety.

“If there was, wouldn’t I tell you?” There’s a glint of challenge in Jon’s eye. Not of one man challenging another for top-dog spot, like these two normally do, but more of a goad to see if Rafe or I can discover news on our own.

“Enough, you two.” I let go of my right hand man with reluctance, wanting nothing more than to snuggle up to his neck and take a deep breath. His scent and Rafe’s have a calming effect on me, rooting me to the here and now despite whatever worry may be weighing on me. “You must be hungry after the long flight. I know Rafe is. How about we get a meal and catch up on what’s going on?”

“Sounds fine with me.” Jon grabs his large duffle from the attendant and follows Rafe to the rear door leading outside.

We climb into Rafe’s new car, a low whistle from Jon indicating his approval. “Sweet. This is one ride you could never have back home.”

Rafe grins, pure male satisfaction showing on his face. “Don’t I know it. I’m sure it will stay here when we leave. The house I’ll take us to later has a small garage in the back.”

We cruise through the dark streets of the city, making our way to a favorite tapas house. Before long, we’re seated at a secluded table, placing our orders for mountains of tiny plates of food.
 

Rafe orders an expensive red wine, an air of celebration wafting from the larger man. When we all hold a filled glass and the waiter has left, he lifts his in a toast. “To Jon. I know I don’t always act the best, and often goad you on purpose, but there’s no man I’d rather have by our side than you.”

Jon blushes, unused to praise from my husband. “Thanks, man.” A touch of the mischievous Were leaks through. “Too bad you had to fight to the death—not once, but several times—to realize it.”
 

Rafe doesn’t rise to the jab, but nods solemnly. “I’m no stranger to killing when I have to, but you’re exactly right. I swear to refrain from wanting to beat you to a pulp if you can refrain from lusting after my wife.”