Mystic's Run
Chapter Fourteen

Hawk paced the floor, unable to meet anyone else's eyes. The hot rage burning through him was the exact opposite of Roman's cold fury. Each time the vampire looked up from where Mystic lay across his lap, the icy flame of his anger licked over Hawk's flesh.
Guilt and horror chewed at Hawk's gut. The sight of the female Were being prostituted had gone against rules and customs so deeply ingrained in him, it had led him to make a foolish decision, one that could have ended in the death of his mate-in his own death. The promise of it was there in Roman's eyes and Hawk didn't blame him.
Mystic sighed and the sound brought a tiny bit of relief to Hawk. He blinked away the sudden moisture at the corner of his eyes before turning toward the couch.
Roman's wrist was pressed against her mouth. But instead of being unresponsive, her lips were sealed to his skin as he stroked her neck and encouraged her to swallow.
The bloody shirts had been discarded. The knife wounds dealt with so her skin was once again smooth and unblemished.
Hawk closed the distance and knelt next to the couch. He took her limp hand in his, twined his fingers through hers.
He wanted to bury his face in her stomach and cry in relief. He wanted to beg her forgiveness though he knew she'd insist he wasn't at fault.
You're not, she whispered in his mind and he could feel her weeping over the rawness of his emotion.
He glanced at her face. Her eyelids were closed, her forehead slightly wrinkled, as if she was fighting to return from the place where pain and loss of blood had forced her to retreat.
Never again, he said.
For long moments there was no response. There was only the sound of her drinking at Roman's wrist.
Hawk buried his face against her side. Her fingers tightened on his. The bond between them filled with erotic fire as her awareness returned on a blood-induced heat wave.
With a gasp Mystic licked across Roman's wrist then turned her face away. Her pussy throbbed with need and her nipples were hard tight points in a bra that did nothing to hide the state of her arousal.
When she would have struggled to a sitting position, Roman and Hawk held her down. Roman's eyes captured hers mercilessly and she could feel him moving through her mind, her body, ensuring himself she was fully healed. Only when he was satisfied did he allow her to sit up and escape from his lap, though he didn't allow her to go further than the cushion next to him. Hawk joined them on the couch.
Without a word Roman removed his shirt and handed it to her. As she put it on she took in the presence of the others sprawled and seated in the room. Skye, she'd already met. Lying near her, on another beanbag chair, was a gorgeous long-haired blond man wearing a muscle shirt. Syndelle Coronado was on a second couch and Mystic didn't need the hum of blood calling to blood to know the identity of the man next to her-Brann, the council's executioner, the sire of her father's sire.
She'd only met him once, when she was barely old enough to speak, and yet his image was burned into her mind. His power was unmistakable. He was one of the truly ancient. Mystic ducked her head in a quick acknowledgement of him.
Brann's mouth curved upward in a smile. His eyes slanted toward Syndelle. "Finally a female who gives me the respect I deserve," he purred.
Syndelle's hand curled around Brann's inner thigh, her knuckles brushed against the heavy, clothed outline of his erection. "If you want us to put you up on a pedestal, we can do that. But I've heard pedestals are cold lonely places."
Brann grabbed Syndelle's hand when she would have pulled it away and Mystic found herself a helpless voyeur when the blond on the beanbag chair took Syndelle's other hand and placed it against his lips. Heat flowed between them and scorched the air around them. They were a picture of love and lust solidified by an Angelini bond.
Mystic's eyes widened when she saw the vampire companion necklaces on both Mystic and-Rafael, Roman provided. It was rare for a vampire to take more than one companion, just as it was rare for an Angelini to claim more than two mates or to claim them without first wearing the tattoo of a proven hunter.
Her attention shifted to Syndelle's bare neck, to Skye's, to thoughts of her own and the knowledge Roman had locked deep in her mind about Syndelle. Uneasiness shivered through Mystic. She felt as if forces were at work, as if the old vampire magic was impacting all of their lives, paving the way for...what?
Perhaps to combat the dark mage magic Brallin once possessed and channeled, Roman said. That is what Brann and I were discussing before you were hurt.
Mystic realized Gabe and Gabby weren't there. She remembered the slickness of Gabe's blood on the alpha bitch. She knew Gabby had been in the backseat with her on the way to Brann's estate. "Is Gabe okay?"
"He followed us here in my car," Hawk said. "His wounds weren't bad enough to prevent him from shifting in order to heal. Rafe gave him some clothes to replace his bloody ones. I sent Gabe and Gabby back to their hotel with orders to rest."
A fresh wave of anger and recrimination buffed Mystic along the bond with Hawk. She rubbed her hand along his inner thigh and tried to lighten his spirits by saying, "Maybe we should spend an hour each day doing hand-to-hand combat drills. I think I could do better next time."
"There won't be a next time," Roman said.
Mystic turned her head. "You don't know that. This hunt isn't finished."
"Good point," Skye said. "And as terrible as your injury was, I suspect you'll say it was worth it. Now that you're fully recovered Syndelle can look at the knife left behind by the rogue Were. If the vampire fledgling's blood is on it, if any vampire blood is on it, Syndelle will be able to tell what line they came from."
Mystic leaned forward, glad for Skye's moral support. "You're right. Not that I want to get beat up or stabbed the next time out, but if we can learn something from the knife, then what happened at Bangers was worth suffering for. Did Hawk or one of the others tell you we think the Weres were hunting Todd Moore? They've also been asking around about two other people, Hugh and Marta."
"Hawk told us," Skye said. "And Roman told us it's possible the rogue Weres were made instead of being born as shifters. In exchange we told him what we'd found out. The fledgling was born in Vegas, died in Vegas the first time, and should have been nowhere near Vegas once he'd turned. That makes finding something with Todd Moore's blood on it critical."
Mystic squeezed Roman's hand. The ancient vampire magic and the dark mage's magic had been banished long before she was born. It was ancient history though she knew her fathers hoped the myth of the Masada was true and one day they would be able to walk in the sunlight again. Even the tales of Brallin, the dark mage who'd grown greedy for more and more power once the strongest of the vampires were destroyed and the rest had been banished to the night, had been relegated to a scary tale for campfires.
She shivered. She found it easy to believe both the ancient vampire magic and the dark mage magic had found vessels to contain them so they could pour out into the world again.
Hawk rose from the couch. "I'll get the knife."
No one spoke until he returned. But as soon as he entered the room Roman stiffened and Brann rose to his feet with the fluid ease of a vampire.
"It's tainted," Brann said. "I can feel the traces of dark magic from here."
"I can as well," Roman said.
Rafe rolled from his sprawl across the beanbag chair and stood. "Well, I can't feel anything despite the fact I'm supposed to one day grow up to be a warlock."
Skye laughed. "The operative words are one day grow up-as in, the distant future."
"Very funny," Rafe said as he offered Skye his hand and pulled her to her feet.
Mystic left the couch and joined the others as they gathered around Hawk. Like Rafe, she sensed nothing odd about the blade though the sight of the dried blood made her thoughts flash back to the fight and the pain.
Roman's arm went around her waist. He pulled her against him so her back pressed to his front then glanced at Brann. "It's not so much the blood as the remnants of a spell."
Brann nodded. "Dark magic mixed with vampire blood."
"Let me hold the knife," Syndelle said, reaching out only to have her wrist grabbed by Brann.
Rafe sighed. "You're only delaying the inevitable."
Brann sent him a look that would have made a vampire cower. Rafe rolled his eyes in response to the flash of fangs and the silent promise of retaliation Brann's glare promised.
"You know this is necessary," Syndelle said in a soft voice though she made no attempt to pull her wrist from Brann's grasp.
He hissed. Skye shook her head and lifted her eyebrows when her gaze met Mystic's. "Mates. You've got to love them otherwise it fucks with your mind. But they do cramp a girl's style."
Mystic couldn't contain her laughter. She'd been mated almost no time at all and she already agreed wholeheartedly with Skye's assessment.
The tension in the room eased with Skye's comment. Brann held out his hand for the knife.
Hawk laid it across his palm and Brann's lips moved in a silent chant. This time Mystic could feel the magic gathering, condensing, dissolving.
"Do not touch the edge of the blade," Brann growled as he released Syndelle's wrist.
Syndelle ducked her head quickly, but not before Mystic saw the smile she was attempting to hide over her mate's command.
Neither Rafe nor Skye made any attempt at subtlety. They both snickered and Mystic found herself grinning. For the first time since leaving the Zevanti compound she wondered about making a home in Las Vegas. She could see herself spending time with Syndelle and Skye, doing things with them that had nothing to do with the Angelini but everything to do with friendship. She could see them welcoming Gabby and being happy to include her as well.
The amusement faded as Syndelle's fingers settled on the blade's handle. Her face was a study of concentration, her pupils dilated into bottomless pits that should have held the cold flame of her vampire heritage but instead held something more frightening.
Syndelle followed the black of the handle to where the steel of the blade kissed it before disappearing inside. She ran her fingers back and forth at the tiny crevice there.
With sharp clarity Mystic imagined the alpha bitch driving the knife all the way in to the hilt as she pierced Todd Moore's heart and interrupted the flow of vampire magic animating him.
Syndelle turned the blade over. She stiffened and glanced up to meet Brann's eyes. Concentration gave way to puzzlement and worry.
"The fledgling was captured with this knife?" Roman asked.
Syndelle stopped touching the knife. Rafe moved in and pulled her against him.
"Yes," she said. "It seems likely." Her face remained troubled. "I can't tell who Todd Moore's sire was, but I can tell he is part of Dusan Juric's line."
Roman tensed. "That's a very old and powerful line. If Juric has been seduced by the dark magic..."
"Then he will die," Brann said, "as will any in his line who are also tainted."
Mystic shivered at the lethal resolve in Brann's voice. When he was interacting with Syndelle and Rafe it was easy to forget he was the vampire council's executioner.
"You'll seek out Juric tonight?" Roman asked.
Brann speared Rafe, then Skye with a glance. "Yes, otherwise I'll be reduced to serving as jailor in order to ensure neither Gian's companion nor my own get into trouble."
Syndelle laughed. She wound her arms around Brann's waist and pulled him into the embrace she shared with Rafael. "Please don't go alone."
Tenderness filled Brann's face. The intensity of it made Mystic slip her hand in Hawk's waistband so she could be touching both of her mates at the same time.
"This isn't a matter for humans or wolves or the Angelini," Brann murmured. "At the moment it's a matter for vampires only."
"Then take Roman," Syndelle pleaded.
Brann cupped her face with his hand. His thumb brushed across her bottom lip. "I have served as an executioner for centuries, Syndelle. If Juric is tainted I will know it as soon as I'm in his presence. Unless he attacks me first or I have reason to think he poses an immediate threat to the supernatural world then I won't act until I've spoken to the council. If he hasn't been touched by the dark powers then surely I can be trusted to conduct a simple interview in order to determine how the fledgling came to be of his line."
Syndelle turned her head to press a kiss in the middle of his palm. "I'll feel better if you don't go alone. Please."
Brann sighed heavily. "I have your promise you'll remain here?"
"Yes."
"Rafe?"
"Your wish is my command."
"If only that were the truth," Brann growled, but through the blood-link Mystic shared with him and the link Roman had with Syndelle, she could feel Brann's amusement.
Brann turned his head slightly so he could direct his question at Roman. "You'll accompany me?"
"Of course. It'll be interesting to find out what entertains Juric these days."
Mystic frowned as she glimpsed a scene of naked, writhing bodies before Roman cut her off from his memories. She turned in his arms so she could see his face. "Are you going to Wyldfyres?" she asked, finding the thought of him going there without her intolerable. She knew no one was admitted unless they were part of the entertainment. She had little doubt that human and vampire females alike would rush to serve Roman.
His eyebrows lifted. Amusement danced in his eyes. Your assessment of my charms is gratifying.
Before Mystic could prevent it, Christian's memory of Roman surrounded by blonde human sheep flashed into her thoughts. All traces of humor left Roman. I am bound to you now. If you visit this meaningless scene from my past again I will punish you for it. I will strip it from your mind and replace it with memories that will make your cunt spasm with a hunger only I can appease.
His hand cupped her neck. His mouth lowered to take possession of hers. I have been gentle with you because we both find pleasure in it, but that doesn't mean I am incapable of being ruthless where you're concerned.
Roman's tongue plunged into mouth, a testament to his words. There was nothing playful in the slide of his tongue against hers or in the way he held her tightly against him.
He was hard male and infinite power. He was beast and vampire, brute strength and ancient cunning.
Mystic didn't resist his onslaught. She melted against him and welcomed his dominating, possessive kiss.
Her pulse beat wildly against his palm. Her clit stiffened in reaction to his primal display as heat pooled in her cunt lips.
They were both breathing hard when he lifted his mouth and set her away from him. "Christian will be home soon?" he asked.
Mystic concentrated on her link with Christian. His anger over what happened at Bangers scorched her while his love and relief she was okay acted as a balm.
"He's going to stop by the apartment complex where the fledgling lived then he'll be home."
"Good. The dawn isn't too far away now. Unless there's trouble I won't see you again until after sunset since I don't want to be seen out in the sunlight. In the meantime, Christian and Hawk can keep you safe."
Relief settled in Mystic's chest when she touched Roman's thoughts and found he'd made his peace with Hawk's decisions when it came to hunting the rogue Weres.
They parted company a few minutes later. Roman and Brann left first, then Skye. Hawk and Mystic lingered so Rafe could show them his collection of files on Todd Moore.
"Maybe Christian will get lucky and find someone at the apartment who knows something," Mystic said, impressed by how much information Syndelle's mate had gathered.
Rafe grinned and wriggled his fingers over the keyboard. "Call if he does. It'll save me the trouble of hacking into the police files to see what he's up to."
Mystic laughed though she decided she'd better shield this particular conversation from Christian. He would not like hearing Rafe could access the police computer system.
Christian was the first Were she'd spent time around who wasn't affiliated with a pack. As a result she didn't know whether all lone wolves were like him, or if it was just Christian. But for him, what he did for a living, his being a cop was a large part of his identity where those born in a pack rarely defined themselves by their work. They defined themselves as Were first, pack second, their rank in the pack third, and beyond that, by bloodlines and mate-lines.
"I'll call you," Mystic said, feeling a connection with Rafe. In a lot of ways his irreverence reminded her of her fathers, especially Falcone.
The drive back to Christian's house was made in silence. Hawk's earlier anger at taking her to Bangers and allowing her to get hurt returned. It hovered like a dark cloud over their relationship as they stepped into the bedroom.
She opened her mouth to tell him to stop torturing himself, then thought of a better way to disrupt his brooding and hopefully derail Christian's anger. Without a word she went into the bathroom. She stripped out of Roman's shirt and dropped it in the clothes hamper. Her bloody jeans were probably a lost cause but they followed the shirt.
She could feel Hawk's torment. His desire to join her as she stepped into the shower was juxtaposed against the guilty belief he needed to do some type of penance.
Tenderness flooded her. She should have guessed there was a softer side to him when he pursued her so relentlessly at the Zevanti compound yet always allowed her to escape his attention.
Because she could touch his feelings and thoughts, she knew that beyond his horror at having her get hurt, his masculine pride had suffered a blow. He hated thinking her other mates would no longer trust him to keep her safe.
Mystic sighed and lifted her face to the welcoming spray of water. She longed to have this hunt behind them so they could settle into a comfortable relationship. She longed to kiss Hawk and make all his needless suffering go away.
Yes, what happened at Bangers had been scary and painful and dangerous. But she was alive and wiser for it. And they had learned more than they could have hoped for tonight.
She turned her attention to the liquid soap Christian kept in his shower. She blocked her thoughts as she concentrated on her plan to not only lure Hawk away from his dark mood but to greet Christian with a sight that would have him thinking with his cock.
Mystic filled her palms with soap. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hawk stop prowling around the bedroom in order to watch her through the open door.
She bent over, subtly positioning herself so Hawk could see her slick woman's folds through the clear glass of the shower stall as she ran her hands over first one leg and then the other. She knew the exact instant his attention became riveted on her vulva.
The wolf rose in him and urged him to mate. She widened her stance and let him watch as her soapy fingers slipped between her thighs and lingered there, rubbing back and forth across her cunt lips and clit. A moan escaped despite her efforts to pretend she was doing nothing other than cleaning the fight with the Weres off her skin.
Hawk's lust closed the distance between them. It stroked her like a wolf's tongue but he continued to fight his beast and deny them both what they needed in order to put the violent part of the night behind them.
Mystic's hands went to her belly. She stretched, arched her back. Her hands moved higher, stopping when they reached her breasts.
Another moan escaped as she smoothed her palms over her nipples before taking the hard tips between her fingers. Hawk's growl told her he'd moved closer but she didn't need the sound. The heavy musk of an aroused male mixed with the steam of her shower.
He wrenched the door open and crowded her against the wall. The slash of his mouth told her he guessed what she was doing but he didn't have the strength to resist her.
His hands took possession of her breasts. His fingers gripped her nipples and tightened until she arched, offered her throat in a show of submission as her belly pressed to the rigid, hot flesh of his cock.
He leaned in. His mouth found the pulse racing in her neck. His teeth closed around it. Along their bond she could feel him fighting his wolf's demand to bend her over and mount her.
With the confidence of a female who'd finally discovered her sexuality and the power that came with it, Mystic knew she could tip the scales in the wolf's favor-and she wanted to. But Christian was drawing near and finding her being fucked in the shower wouldn't result in the harmony they all needed.
She let Hawk resist the temptation she offered him. When he finally released her and stepped back she soaped her hands and ran them over the hard muscles of his chest and arms and legs.
She avoided his tiny nipples and engorged shaft until finally he gripped her hand and carried it to his cock. He forced her to stoke him. She voluntarily cupped and fondled his heavy testicles, satisfaction rushing through her when he groaned and threw his head back in surrender.
"Let's go to bed, Hawk," she said and brushed her thumb over the exposed head of his penis in order to further entice him.
They stepped from the shower and hastily dried off. His eyes darkened with lust when they reached the bed and she took his cock in her hand again.
"I want to put my mouth on you," Mystic whispered.
His penis pulsed in response and there was an echoing throb in the swollen lips of her cunt. She ached with the need to have one of her mates sheathe himself in her channel.
As if he guessed the exact position and place she wanted him, Hawk knelt on the bed, close to the edge but far enough away so she could position herself above his cock on her hands and knees. Her hair brushed his thighs and penis as she hovered over him, exploring the smooth foreskin and exposed head with her fingers.
Moisture escaped through the slit in his cock head. He growled when she massaged it into his hot flesh.
His fingers burrowed into her hair. His desire pressed down on her in a command every bit as compelling as a vampire's.
On the periphery of her senses she knew Christian was home. Slowly she lowered her head and took Hawk into her mouth.