Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) (22 page)

Rolling his neck, a series of cracks traveled down his vertebrae as he worked the kinks out. Alexander hadn’t arrived home until damn near dawn, partying well into the night with Ryder and Grigore, neither of whom came home. His skin had a rosy glow, having had fed the night before from Cathy. Ivy had offered, but something about the friendly, dark-blonde had drawn him. Cathy put him at ease. She was straight forward with no ulterior motives, such as trying to get into his pants or looking to land herself one of the Sons. She seemed more interested in the barkeep.

Alexander preferred his communion straight up, with no strings.

He didn’t want to feel as if he had to fuck every donor or appease their egos. He wanted his nourishment without the addition of drama. No small talk, and no way in hell was he going to go down the same road as the twins, or Grayson. His brothers were family. Children were
not
a part of his vocabulary. Oh, he loved Stefan all right, even delivered the little bugger’s ass, but he liked him best when he could spoil him, then send him home.

Dark hair and skin the color of melted chocolate came to mind, causing him to blaspheme. Not that he didn’t like the exotic donor, India. Quite the opposite, in fact. The thought of her caused an ache in his groin, one he had no intention of appeasing. He had used her as a regular donor in the past, until his fucking emotions got caught up.

Alexander easily recalled the night Grigore had shown up at the Rave, looking for nourishment like it was yesterday. Fuck it had happened well over a year ago. India stood down the bar from Alexander, while he was busy chatting with a little redhead on X. He was trying his damnedest to disentangle himself when Grigore walked up and palmed India’s delicious backside. Of course, he couldn’t fault Grigore. His brother had no idea Alexander had any interest in the dark-skinned beauty, because he had never treated her as anything other than a donor, keeping his attraction to himself. Grigore leaned down and whispered something close to her ear, causing her to giggle and blush. Women naturally flocked to the big guy, and India hadn’t seemed to be any different.

Christ, he had hoped for better from her.

Just thinking about Grigore’s hand on her ass, even over a year later, brought his blood to a slow slimmer. Alexander had never made a claim on India, but he had thought his interest had been quite obvious. When Grigore took a handful of one side of her ass cheeks, he had wanted to deck his brother.

Alexander had seen red, his vampire self close to the surface.

India hadn’t bothered to remove his brother’s hand, which only added to the fire burning in his gut. When Alexander had finally managed to extricate himself from the pain in the ass, drugged out redhead, he left the Rave, and never once asked what had transpired between his MC brother and India.

No matter, Alexander had avoided India ever since.

Like the plague
.

Alexander’s father had doted on his mother for years, telling everyone who would listen to the drunken fool, she was the love of his life. The man had been fucking blind. While she was slipping out with the guys from the neighborhood pub, bringing home baubles his father could never afford, he sat home drinking himself into a stupor. And when his father was too drunk to take care of his only son, his mom would drag Alexander to the bar. He’d sit on a stool in the corner, watching the television, while the flavor of the month had his hand up his mother’s skirt.

Which pretty much summed up his young life, until the night his mother and he had come home and found his father in a pool of his own vomit. The man had drowned in his own puke, leaving him with a woman who didn’t deserve that kind of devotion, or the kid she had been saddled with.

Alexander walked around the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack, noting they’d soon need to restock, especially with Grigore moving in. He peeled off the plastic wrap, then screwed off the plastic cap and took the bottle to his lips. After a long pull, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. The one thing he missed after his turning was the ability to get good and drunk. The warmth and momentary buzz was too damn short lived for his liking.

His recent thoughts of India had him wishing for the drunken stupor.

Maybe his father’s thinking hadn’t been so fucked up after all. Drowning himself in alcohol helped deaden the reality of a faithless wife. Alexander took another long pull, then slammed the bottle back on the counter, leaving it uncapped. As long as he kept women at bay, then there was no chance he’d wind up a fool like his father.

Walking to the clubhouse restroom, he stood in front of the commode and unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and began to relieve himself.

“Oh…”

Alexander turned his head, just in time to see India’s blush before she disappeared around the corner. He quickly finished, shoved his cock back into his pants, and zipped the jeans, not bothering with the button before turning to chase her down.

What the hell was she doing here?

Better yet, how had he missed the arrival of her scent?

Apparently, he had been too wrapped in his own thoughts and the bottle of Jack to detect he was no longer alone. He quickly washed his hands and grabbed the hand towel upon his exit. India had reached the front door when he called out to her. She stopped and turned her head, her hand still on the door handle, ready to bolt.

Her beauty was like a fucking wrecking ball, damn near knocking him from his feet.

“Looking for Wolf?” He raised one of his brows. “He doesn’t live here … yet anyway. You’re early. He’ll be moving in sometime next week if you want to come back.”

“Wolf?” The warm vibrato of her voice smoothed over him and grabbed hold of his cock. She let go of the door handle and walked in his direction. “Why do you hate me so much, Xander?”

Down boy
. “You give yourself too much credit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hating you is an emotion which requires me to first care.”

“Wow.” India crossed her arms beneath her breasts, looking extremely annoyed with him. “Was that supposed to hurt?”

“Cut the bullshit, India. I detest small talk. Why are you here?”

“I was looking for Suzi.”

“Why?”

“Christ, Xander, you want my fucking itinerary while you’re at it? I said I would babysit while they moved their shit. I was running late.”

Alexander rubbed a hand over his chest, noting her gaze followed the trail, stopping on the unbuttoned area of his jeans. He had the insane urge to pull out his cock, to see if she’d continued to watch. Instead, he walked over to the bar, not inviting her to have a drink with him, or to tell her to get the fuck out, though the latter at the moment was the bigger temptation.

“Apparently, you’re
very
late. They’ve already left and I doubt they’ll be back today.”

“Damn it.” India placed her hands on her hips and looked to the floor.

“What’s the big deal? So, they moved their shit without your help. Trust me, they won’t hold it against you. What kept you anyway?’

India sniffed. “None of your business.”

Alexander studied her. Had she been crying? Damn it, he hated to see a woman cry, even one he disliked. Already feeling his resolve softening, he asked, “Everything okay?”

Her lower lip trembled. Against his better judgment, Alexander skirted the bar and pulled the dark beauty into his embrace. He had always been a sucker for women’s tears. Her sobs wet his bare shoulder. Smoothing a hand down her back, the sweet scent of her blood wafted to his nose and elongated his fangs. He ignored the hunger burning his gut. Even though he had recently fed, her blood had a way of calling to him like the finest of whiskeys.

Alexander would have to be a callous vampire to feed from her while she suffered from whatever had reduced her to tears. It would be a mistake to inquire further what had upset her. Alexander didn’t want to know, didn’t want to care … and yet, he was ready to put a hurt on who was the cause.

India stepped back from his hold and swiped her hands beneath her eyes, spreading the salty wetness across her flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

“You want to talk about it?”

A sob bubbled up. India covered her mouth with trembling fingers and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have come.”

Alexander grabbed the whiskey bottle from the bar and handed it to her. “Here. It will make you feel better.”

She took the open bottle to her lips and took a small swig. Her answering grimace told him she wasn’t a fan of the warm amber liquid. India opened her mouth and gasped. “No wonder I never drink that shit.”

He chuckled and took the bottle back from her. “A few healthy swigs and you won’t even notice the burn or the taste.”

She grabbed the bottle back from him before he had a chance to set it back on the bar and took another tiny swig. Her shoulders shook in revulsion. “Yep. I’m pretty sure I don’t like the stuff.”

Alexander took the bottle and set it on the bar between him. “So what are you trying to drown away with the whiskey?”

India glanced back at the door, no doubt weighing her options of staying or getting the hell away from him. Decision made, she walked over to the bar and pulled out a stool and sat. Her forefinger indicated the Jack bottle. “You have anything else besides that to drink?”

Alexander opened the wine cooler door. “Looks like there’s a couple bottles of red in here. Otherwise it’s water or whiskey.”

“Is it sweet?”

“How the hell would I know? I don’t drink the stuff.”

His response earned him a chuckle. “Whatever. It has to be better than the whiskey.”

Alexander used a knife to cut the seal, then looked at the cork. He started rummaging through the drawers and finally came up with a corkscrew. Making short work of it, he pulled the cork with a pop, and set the dark bottle in front of her.

She gave him a crooked smile. “Do I have to drink it from the bottle?”

“No, smart ass. I suppose I could offer you a glass.” Alexander reached overhead and pulled down a wineglass. “You want to talk about it?”

“Actually, I’d prefer to get good and drunk. I’d ask you to join me, but it’s not possible for you.”

“It’s times like this I wish it were,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

“What was that?”

He rubbed his nape. “I was just agreeing with you.”

India picked up the bottle and half-filled the glass. She brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. If she was looking to get soused, she wasn’t going to get there anytime soon with her tiny ass little sips. Swirling the liquid in the glass, she watched the red wine as if it held the answers to whatever had upset her.

He covered her hand laying on the bar with his, not being able to stop himself from touching her. Hell, he wanted to touch her all over. It had been far too long since he had last gotten laid. The brief touch sent a bolt of desire sizzling up his skin and had him pulling his hand back. By the look on her face, she felt it as well. She toyed with the stem of the glass, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“Maybe I should go.”

Maybe she should.
“Something kept you from getting here on time, something that’s upset you. If you want to talk about it, talk while I’m still willing to listen.”

Yeah, he was pretty sure he needed his fucking head examined.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What the hell?”
Fuck!
Whatever he expected, it wasn’t that. “Then you definitely shouldn’t be drinking.”

He took away the wineglass and sat it on the counter behind him. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed it to her. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Seriously, Xander? I don’t think I was thinking about babies when it happened.”

“I meant the drinking.”

Her beautiful brown gaze filled with tears again.

“Who is he?”

“No one.”

Alexander leaned in, bracing his forearms on the bar and clasping his hands, when what he really felt like doing was wrapping his long fingers around the throat of baby daddy.

“You don’t know?”

“I didn’t say that.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You know birth control usually prevents that.”

Her jaw tightened, knowing he stepped over the line. He deserved the dressing down she’d no doubt give him. Something about knowing she carried another man’s baby rubbed his ass raw.

“More like I should’ve been fucking a vampire, since vampires can’t impregnate humans. At least then I wouldn’t be in this predicament. And for your information,” she looked back at him, holding his gaze, “he used a condom. It broke.”

“What are you going to do?”

India’s shoulders drooped, her gaze fell to her lap. “He wants me to abort it.”

“And what do you want?”

His heart panged, not sure how he wanted her to answer. It was her body, her decision, no matter what he thought on the matter.

More tears fell and she swatted them away. Uncapping the water, India took a long pull. Putting the cap back on the bottle, she glanced back him. “I want to keep the baby.”