Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) (36 page)

Vlad didn’t give Mircea a chance to right himself. He ran across the distance as if his feet had wings, gripping his brother by the throat and pulling him up. Mircea’s feet dangled inches off the ground.

He bared his fangs and shook the primordial like a rag doll. “You son of a bitch, you did not heed my warning. I told you to go back to Italy and yet you defied me. I should crush you like a bug, you fool. I will personally see you get back to Italy. When we arrive, I will leave a couple of my men to guard you. If you slip by them, and so much as step foot outside of the country without my knowledge, I will impale your sorry ass outside my home near Belize. You’ll serve as a reminder the next time I get soft. Do. Not. Test. Me. Dear brother. You won’t get another chance.”

Releasing his hold on Mircea, he dropped to the ground, barely standing on his own, his hands going to his neck and chest. He couldn’t so much as croak and answer, so he nodded instead. Kane bet Vlad crushed his windpipe with his grip.

Vlad turned back to Kane. “You take care of your own, Kane, and I’ll take care of mine. I’ll personally escort Mircea to his home. Should he give you trouble again, you have my permission to kill him.”

Not waiting for a response, Vlad grabbed his brother by the shirt and headed into the forest. In the blink of an eye, they were gone. Shaking his head at the injustice of not being able to take Mircea’s life, he headed for the house. The rain pelted his back and cooled his ire. The bright side? Should Mircea ever show his face again, he had permission to take his head.

Kane smiled.

He looked forward to the day.

* * *

Anton straddled his bike just around the bend. Close enough he could see the metal and glass double doors to the diner, not close enough for the men to detect they were being watched. The sun had long since set and he doubted anyone else, other than those he targeted, was in the diner at this hour. Only four motorcycles, Kimber’s car, and one other vehicle were present in the parking lot. Probably one worker who had no doubt been terrorized and dealt the hand of death by the Devils.

The two men playing guard dogs outside had no clue their life was about to be cut short.

Anton’s clothes were damp. He had driven through some pretty heavy rains on his way south. Thankfully, the storm had passed through and the only remnant was the strong winds coming off the ocean. Waves crashed to the shore. Normally, the sound soothed him. Today, however, it did nothing to calm the storm brewing within.

Anton wasn’t walking away until all four Devils met the Grim Reaper. Bobby would be free to go, and only because Anton respected him. He had protected Kimber. Stepping over his bike, he took off his helmet and laid it on the seat. His fangs punched past his gums and his gaze heated. He rolled his neck as the rest of his vampire genes took over.

There was no saving the motherfuckers who dared to take his Kimber.

He walked down the highway with one purpose in mind.
Death.
The two by the door caught sight of him, heading in their direction. Anton recognized one of them as Boston. He’d take great pleasure in stomping his sorry ass into the ground.

So damn much had transpired in the past two weeks, since his returning to Oregon. He certainly hadn’t planned on hooking back up with Kimber, let alone falling in love with her.

The knowledge of his true feelings for her hit him like a blow to his chest. Right now, though, he had no time to analyze just when the hell that happened. It simply was.

“Boys,” Anton greeted.

Boston grinned, his teeth smeared with chew. “Boss is looking for your sorry ass inside, Rogue.” His chuckle rankled Anton. “Someone’s about to meet his maker.”

Before the son of a bitch could issue another taunt, he was gurgling on his own blood. Anton used the knife he carried in his boot to slice cleanly through his throat. As fast as Anton moved, the son of a bitch hadn’t seen it coming. The second man didn’t stand a chance either. Anton palmed the sides of his head and twisted hard, snapping his neck and dropping him to the cement.

Neither had a chance to warn those inside.

Anton picked up his knife lying beside Boston, wiped the blood on his jeans, and ignored the pooling blood calling to him like a drug to a junkie.

Two down, two to go.

Anton yanked open one of the heavy doors, damn near pulling them off its hinges. Four sets of eyes looked at him. One set widened in fright, and the only damn one that meant anything at all to him. One body already lay dead on the floor. Anton had been correct, the Devils had taken out the worker so he wouldn’t be able to give an account on what horrific deeds happened after the sun went down.

“Jesus,” Tank mustered. “What the fuck are you?”

Spike, the scrawny ass biker by Tank’s side, stood, gun pointed at Anton’s chest. “Stay the fuck where you are, Rogue.”

His gun hand trembled. Anton doubted at the moment he’d hit the broad side of the barn. Bobby gathered Kimber and pulled her away from the booth. He kept her behind him near the lunch counter. More brownie points for the ex-preacher. Anton moved quicker than Spike’s trigger finger. The gun went off, striking the far wall. His aim had been kicked out of position by Anton’s foot. One fist to the man’s throat collapsed his windpipe. He wouldn’t live to see the sun rise. He’d suffocate long before.

His attention landed on the Devils’ P. For the first time, Anton saw fear in Tank’s eyes. With everything Tank had done in his life, the horrible things he was guilty of, Anton was only too happy to be the one ending the miserable fuck’s life. Intent on administering death, Anton missed the gun aimed at him beneath the diner table until the bullet hit his gut. Pain seared his abdomen. Anton grunted. His hands covered the wound. Blood spilled through his fingers.

Kimber cried out and Bobby rushed Tank as he stood. The two went down and the gun fired a second time. Anton wasn’t sure who got hit. That was until Tank rolled Bobby from him. A large gaping hole, just beneath his neck and likely hitting the aorta, spurted blood. Kimber grabbed a stack of towels from the counter and fell to her knees, putting pressure on the wound. Even so, Anton bet Bobby had minutes to live.

Thanks to Anton’s vampire genes, his own wound had nearly healed already.

Grabbing Tank by the back of his collar, he hauled the man to his feet. Anton knocked the gun from his hand. The Ruger hit the tile and slid across the floor out of reach. Tank kicked at Anton’s knees, doing no real damage. Anton, tired of Tank’s wasted efforts as one might a gnat’s, dropped his hold on his shirt, and punched him in the face.

Blood splattered from his broken nose. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch.”

“Not today, Tank.” Anton advanced on him slowly. “Today, I watch you die.”

He gripped his shoulders, hauled him upright, sank his fangs deep into his neck, and drank the man dry. Anton discarded his empty shell to the floor like yesterday’s garbage. His black gaze sought out Kimber and the blood soaked towels. Bobby gurgled on his blood, unable to say a word.

Fuck!

No time to call the P.

Knowing they had already discussed bringing the biker onboard, Anton took it as his okay to turn the man. He dropped to his knees beside Bobby. Kimber’s wide-eyed gaze landed on him. He must look like a circus freak show.

No time to explain, Anton bit his wrist and tore open a vein, he held the dripping wound to Bobby’s mouth and said, “Drink.”

Without question, Bobby followed the directive, clamping onto Anton’s wrist like the lifeline it was. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was delirium. Either way, Anton was glad he hadn’t gotten an argument out of him. Several seconds later, his wound began to heal and he released his hold on Anton. His eyelids flickered a time or two, then closed.

“What the hell did you just do?” Kimber squealed. When Anton reached out to her, she batted his bloodied hand away. “You killed him.”

The fight fizzled out of Anton. Sitting back on the floor, his gaze took in the carnage. His vampire self receded. “I may be responsible for the rest of these miserable fucks, but Bobby will live to see another day. He’s healing.”

“What the hell are you?” she whispered, her gaze wide as she glanced about the bloody scene. “My God!”

“Kimber—”

She held out her hand, cutting him off.

“Oh my…” Kimber sucked in her breath. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I’m not following.”

“Why the hell did I think your fangs were part of a nightmare? They weren’t, were they?”

Anton rubbed a hand down his cheek.
Shit!
The trauma of today must have triggered her recollections. She no doubt recalled his vampire form every time they had been together. This wasn’t going to end well.

He reached for her again, but she scooted away. “Get the hell away from me. I don’t even know what you are. You … you…”

Her eyes took in the dead men, then back to Bobby, who still wasn’t moving, other than the rise and fall of his chest. The wound had damn near healed.

“How?”

Anton drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his forearms around them. “When he drank from me, he ingested some of my vampire DNA.”

“Vampire?” The very word shook from her.

“My blood is healing him.”

Kimber gasped. “He was dying. Now you’re telling me he will be fine?”

Anton nodded. “Like me.”

“You mean a vampire?”

Again he nodded.

“I have to be in some sort of alternate reality. Vampires don’t exist. Wait…” Her brow creased. “Vampires rise from the dead.”

“Fictional vampires, yes. I assure you I’m very much alive.”

She grabbed a towel and tried to wipe her fingers free of Bobby’s blood. “I need to get out of here.”

Anton stood, holding out his hand to help her off the floor. Kimber rose on her own, as though she were afraid to touch him. She took another look around, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her breath hitched. Before he could stop her, Kimber grabbed her purse and keys from the diner counter and ran for the door. She let out a startled scream when she came across the other two men lying on the cement just beyond the entrance.

She turned and looked back at Anton, swiping a hand beneath her nose. “I need to wake up. This can’t be real.”

“Kimber, you shouldn’t drive. I’ll take you—”

“No.” The scent of her fear drifted to him. “You need to stay away.”

“I can’t.” And he knew it to be true, sure as his heart was breaking. He needed to convince her he wasn’t the monster she witnessed moments ago. Now wasn’t the time. “When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk.”

She placed the back of her blood smeared hand over her lips. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Seriously?” He raised a brow. His hand swept the diner. “This. You need to hear me out. Jesus, Kimber. What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m in love with you.”

A sob escaped her. She turned, opened the door, and ran the short way to her car. Anton watched the car back from the parking lot and head up the highway. He hung his head. Hell, he should go after her, hypnotize her into forgetting the entire night, into forgetting everything that happened between them. But he couldn’t. He wanted her to come to terms with everything, and part of him was the monster she saw moments ago wreaking havoc on the place.

He shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Alexander answered quickly. “We got a situation, man. Bring the box truck.” He rattled off the address. “We need a quick clean up, and I need to get Bobby Bourassa back to the clubhouse before his change begins.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“Too damn much to explain over the phone. Just round up the troops and get here STAT.”

Anton ended the call. Another glance around told him it would take a miracle for Kimber to get beyond the horrific scene. This certainly wasn’t how he envisioned telling her all his secrets.

The talk would have to wait. First, he needed to wipe the place clean. No one could know he or Bobby were here. He’d leave the others for the cops to find. A robbery gone wrong. No one would care about the bikers’ deaths. Life was better without them in it.

Two weeks had passed since Kimber had last seen Anton. Not so much as a glimpse. She wasn’t any closer to accepting the fact he was something other than human, let alone what he could be capable of. Softening, maybe. Definitely not ready to fully embrace it. He hadn’t stopped by or tried to contact her, other than one phone call to assure she hadn’t gone off the deep end. The call had been awkward at best. She had politely told him she was fine, thanked him for saving her life, then they both fell into awkward silence.

What exactly was she to say?

A few weeks ago, she hadn’t even known vampires existed outside of paranormal fiction novels and movies. What she had learned from them was nothing compared to reality. Anton wasn’t the undead, he didn’t sleep in coffins, and he didn’t turn to ash in sunlight. No, he was definitely a hot-blooded, living and breathing, sexy as hell man. One she found herself still hopelessly attracted to, if not out and out in love with.