Syndelle's Possession
Chapter Eight

Come, Brann said, leading Syndelle from the dance floor as the slow song ended and a fast one took its place. Your sister will be here in a moment and Gian has graciously volunteered his office in order to afford you privacy.
Syndelle frowned, remembering Gian's comment about not knowing Skye's origins. "You knew she belonged to the Coronados. Yet you did not send her to us," she said as Brann ushered her into the office, anger smothering her earlier contentment with her soon-to-be mate.
Brann's eyebrows lifted. "Your family has made it known that an Angelini daughter was missing?"
Syndelle's anger softened to confusion. Brann stroked her cheek. "There have been whispers over the years that Sabin's daughter was taken, but none knew the details, and most thought it more likely that some accident had befallen her and your parents' grief prevented them from speaking openly about their loss. When I saw Gian's mate for the first time, I knew otherwise. She is your father all over again, in looks and disposition." He shrugged and a soft smile played over his features. "But there has been little time to attend to the matter. And now you have come along..."
Brann leaned over pressing his lips against the spot where his fangs had pierced her flesh. I can grant you some time alone with her because I know it is important to you, but we need to finish what we started, Syndelle. We need to close the bond-for your sake as well as mine and Rafael's. I would prefer to do so without racing the sun.
Thank you, she whispered in his mind, unable to stop herself from wrapping her arms around his waist and taking comfort when he pulled her into a hug.
Skye Delano studied the blond vampire and his collection of women and frowned. "I haven't seen him here before."
Gian laughed. "He has been in the area for a while, but usually seeks a higher class of prey."
"So why is Rafael with him?" The frown on Skye's face deepened as a new blonde strolled over to the table, leaning down so that her breasts threatened to escape the tight, thin top and press against Rafe's face. "Why isn't he with Brann and this woman that your sire says is my sister?"
Gian shrugged. "Brann is a power to himself. I gave up trying to understand his motives long ago." His look was speculative as he studied Rafael. Though perhaps Rafael has been the lure and that is why Brann has allowed him free rein to fuck as many women as he wanted.
A surprising rage slid through Skye, leaving her feeling uncertain and confused. She did not like the idea of this unknown woman being trapped by Brann, and yet she had no reason to feel anything toward her except curiosity.
Gian smiled slightly and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. I can feel your emotions. Relax. Even for one such as you, it is normal to be anxious and uncertain about this meeting and what it will reveal about who and what you are.
She nodded, acknowledging his comment. For so many years she'd had only vague, emotional memories of her life before she'd been found in a ghetto of Los Angeles, a silent child with no history, no name. There'd been hazy thoughts of a happy time spent with a mother and two fathers, followed by the wrenching agony of separation, and superimposed over all of it, the driving need to survive.
She'd even gone so far as to have a computer hacker retrieve her records from the social services department. But there was nothing that she didn't already remember.
She'd been trapped in silence until she'd discovered the ability to hypnotize and sink into a self-induced state of being other. Until then, any attempt at speech had caused a sharp skull-piercing pain to rip through her mind. Any attempt at remembering her origins had also been met with excruciating agony.
Only later, after she discovered the reality of vampires, had the veil between her memory and conscious knowledge partially lifted. In her mind's eye, she could now see the face of her mother's vampire mate, a face like her own-her blood father-and she could now remember being trapped in his gaze as he commanded her to silence, to forget her origins if she was ever lost to them.
Even now, it sickened her to think of all that she'd endured because of his command. She'd been too young to understand what he meant by silence, and so the compulsion had lodged in her mind in its broadest context-causing her to suffer needlessly. And now the past had arrived in the form of a sister.
They paused at the door and Gian knocked as a courtesy before saying, "Brann and I will return to the bar while you speak with Syndelle. You have nothing to fear from her, and perhaps nothing in common, but I think you will like her in the same way you like your human mate's family."
Brann pulled away just as a knock sounded and the office door swung open. For a moment Syndelle's heart stilled as she took in the woman who moved into the room with predatory grace and all the confidence of an Angelini hunter.
She is your father all over again, in looks and disposition, Brann had said, and he hadn't lied.
The door closed, leaving the two women to study each other cautiously, like wolves meeting for the first time.
The blood hummed through Syndelle's veins in recognition of their kinship. Skye's eyes narrowed, as if she too felt the connection but wasn't sure what it meant. Finally Syndelle broke the silence, saying, "Do you remember anything about the Coronados?"
Her sister's face tightened almost into a snarl. "Only bits and pieces of it. Sabin, the vampire. Riesen, the werewolf. Pictures of them, along with a woman. I don't even know her name."
"Richelle Coronado." Syndelle hesitated, not wanting to insult Skye, but unsure of how much she knew of their ways. "Among us, the children are always given the last name of the Angelini. The Coronado line goes back to the very beginning." She paused again, finding this meeting more difficult than she imagined-seeing in Skye the same thing she saw in their brothers and in their parents. The confidence. The sureness in themselves.
Syndelle was not surprised that Skye didn't remember much of their parents. It was ancient custom to try and protect Angelini children by making them forget their origins so that they would blend in among humans should they go missing for any length of time. After the loss of their daughter, and after enduring the agony of not knowing what had happened to her, their parents had broken with tradition and added the extra safety measure of reinforcing the blood-link with Sabin so that he could call their children home or touch their minds in order to find them.
Curious, Syndelle asked, "How did you come to be called Skye?"
"I picked it, then I refused to answer to anything else." She shrugged. "Eventually the social workers decided I must have finally remembered my name, so they changed the paperwork to agree."
"Our parents called you Jovina. It means 'daughter of the sky'."
Jovina. The name resonated in Skye, touching a deep chord and vibrating through her. "How was I separated from them?"
"You were taken from their compound by a young female from Riesen's pack. She was there with four others, watching you while our parents were away. When they got home, they found the others drugged and you missing. But by the time they tracked the female, she'd been killed and there was no sign of you."
"I ended up in Los Angeles."
"They found the body of Riesen's pack member in New York."
Skye sighed, frustrated and saddened by the loss of her memories. It had never bothered her before-at least not in the same way. But it was different now that she had mates-especially a human mate with a large extended family-a family that loved fiercely, and still treated her with wary courtesy.
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Syndelle moved closer, taking Skye's hand in hers. The low humming in Skye's blood turning into a roar between one heartbeat and the next.
"Blood to blood," Syndelle said. "I can give you my memories of our parents and our brothers." Her smile twisted somewhat ruefully. "Though you will see them through my eyes, and me through theirs. How they react to you when you know them will be much different than how they react to me. You are like all of them, while I am like none of them."
Skye studied the dark-haired woman in front of her. Soft. Almost human. Those had been her first disappointed thoughts when she saw Syndelle. But now Skye saw something else. There was a quiet strength in her sister. A quiet courage. A patient, ancient quality that spoke of old magic.
Before taking mates and learning that supernatural beings existed-and that she was one of them-Skye had lived her life alone, relying on herself, trusting no one completely other than herself.
And now this woman stood in front of her, offering a priceless gift-but to receive it would require Skye to trust her. And surprisingly enough, she realized that she did. "I'd like to know them, through your memories until I form my own."
Syndelle's smile was a mixture of relief and pleasure and mirth. "I'm told you always carry at least one knife. I'll need it to make a small cut on your palm."
Skye pulled her hand from Syndelle's and reached for the switchblade in her back pocket, opening it before handing it to her sister. Syndelle set the knife down on one of Gian's office chairs and said, "I need your left hand."
When Skye gave it to her, Syndelle began tracing something on her palm and Skye's heart jerked in reaction. She could almost see the strange, unfamiliar symbols that Syndelle was drawing.
Gian's presence stirred in her mind and she allowed him to see what she was seeing. His alarmed puzzlement moved through her as he said, She protects the two of you from harm using wards that she is not old enough to have mastered. His attention shifted to the knife on his chair and his voice went to a demand. What do you plan?
I'll tell you later, Skye said, closing the link and grimacing when his displeasure, if not his exact thoughts, washed down their link.
"Keep your hand here," Syndelle said, releasing it to write a ward in the air before moving to trace symbols on her own palm. When she was finished, she reached for the knife and with a steady, smooth movement sliced across Skye's palm and then her own before joining their hands so that the blood of one met the blood of the other.
Almost instantly Skye plunged into a dark abyss, terrifying in its very emptiness. She struggled instinctively to escape, knowing that her heart was thundering in her chest, though its beats were absorbed in a silence so complete that nothing could ever penetrate it, a silence so deep that it was everything and nothing, a beginning and an ending. Rage threatened to claim her, a reaction to the terror that would take its place and make her helpless if she allowed it. But before she began to fight in earnest, the void changed, becoming more like a dark wineglass being filled with deep, rich, ancient blood-and suddenly Skye was drunk with memories. Syndelle's at first, and then Sabin's, moving through the time before Syndelle existed and going backward until the moment of Skye's birth.
A blink and Skye found herself standing in front of her sister, crying-overwhelmed by memory and emotion-by her parents' pain at losing her, the joy of knowing their love-for the past that had been lost and found, for the future. She didn't resist when Syndelle hugged her, holding her until she could gather her control.
When Skye finally pulled out of the embrace, she could feel Gian at the edges of her mind, frantically demanding entry, she could hear him pounding on the door as though he couldn't enter his own office.
He can't, Syndelle said, surprising Skye with the sound of her unspoken voice. Instantly Skye searched for the mental link and found that she couldn't block her sister's access to her thoughts nor could she touch her sister's mind at will. But before panic or anger could set in, Syndelle said, "Look deeper and you will find the connection we share through Sabin's blood. This new, other pathway between us already begins to fade, just as the wound on our palms does. In a few minutes your thoughts won't be even a whisper in my mind." She wrinkled her nose and gave Skye a mischievous smile. "Though in truth, I can hardly hear anything beyond the yelling of your mate and the demands of my own future mate."
I'm okay! Stop banging on the door! Skye sent to Gian and felt his instant relief. This time she didn't close the link between them. "You were able to lock him out of his own office?" Skye asked, returning to her earlier thoughts, seeing again the quiet strength in her sister, the quiet courage, and the patient, ancient quality of old, old magic.
"I will release the wards in a second and then I must leave. But before I do, I wanted to speak with you about Big Daddy's girls. I'd like to help you search for their attacker."
Denial sprang instantly to Skye's mind, but almost immediately she recognized its source in the memories that weren't her own. She had no reason to turn away Syndelle's help-other than the fact that Brann's displeasure at the idea flowed to her through Gian in a cold wave. A smile widened her lips. "I'd like your help. It'll give us some time together."
"I'll find you tomorrow, then." Syndelle paused before adding, "I visited Big Daddy's house today. What I learned is with you now, though I did not draw your attention to it earlier."
Her words jolted Skye. She hadn't felt her sister's presence at all.
Syndelle's hand raised, her fingers moving again, this time tracing symbols in the air, dropping to her side a second before the office door flew open and Gian stormed in, followed by Brann.
Skye picked up the knife, her movement slowing her mate and diverting his attention. She grinned at his vampire reaction to the presence of an Angelini with a sharp blade and he scowled, coming to a halt next to her and reaching for a tissue on his desk, handing it to her so she could clean the knife before putting it away.
Brann tilted Syndelle's face, forcing her to stare into his eyes and Skye felt a stab of fear that wasn't wholly hers. Gian's hand went to her wrist halting her as she took an unconscious step forward. Do not interfere. It is against our laws and the laws of the Angelini.
Skye tensed, not caring about rules she knew nothing about, but then Brann gently brushed his thumb across Syndelle's lip, and she saw her sister's soft smile. Skye's alarm at seeing Brann with Syndelle lessened somewhat, but didn't completely fade even as she accepted that this wasn't her fight.
Wise decision, Gian said, his voice laced with sardonic amusement.
Brann released Syndelle and she moved to Skye, giving her a hug, touching Skye with her thoughts again. You know the way home now. Look deep inside yourself and you will find it hidden behind safeguards that only you can pass through. Our parents and brothers are away from the compound. But it doesn't matter. Before they return, they will come here to reclaim you. You will never be lost to us again.
Anticipation and excitement rippled through Skye, along with a heady mix of other, much less-familiar emotions. She hugged her sister back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
The wolf rose then, restless, and Syndelle reluctantly slipped from her sister's grasp, knowing that it was time to move into another, more carnal embrace. The wolf had been patient, granting her time, adding its strength of will to her own as she'd guided Skye through the ancient, powerful magic of blood memories, but now the wolf was hungry for its mate.
Syndelle placed her hand in Brann's and allowed him to lead her from the office, down the short private hallway and out into the loud, throbbing, human-filled club. She looked and found Rafael still at Roman's table. The wolf looked, too, and didn't like seeing him surrounded by other females.
A low growl rumbled through Syndelle's mind. A sound she'd rarely heard. With it came a command to go over and stake her claim, to make it known that she would rip the skin from any who tried to take her mate. The hair rose along Syndelle's spine as the wolf's hackles rose and its body stiffened, prepared to fight, prepared to stalk over and herd its wayward mate home, then show him that he didn't need to look elsewhere for his pleasure.
Next to her, Brann laughed, and Syndelle knew that he was in agreement with the wolf. But when he would have sent the command for Rafael to join them, Syndelle stilled him with a squeeze of her hand and a plea. Allow me my pride, too, Brann. I don't want to have to force him to my bed any more than you wish to force him to yours.
Surprise rippled through Brann, and pleasure. Surprise that she had touched so accurately on why he hadn't yet claimed Rafael completely, though he had lusted after him from the moment he'd first seen him. Pleasure that she seemed at ease with his desire for another man.
As you wish, he told her. To Rafe he said, The choice is yours whether you join us or not.
The wolf stalked around in Syndelle's consciousness, growling, unhappy about leaving one of its mates behind.
Perhaps he will join us, Syndelle told it, her own heart heavy that the Boxster was not behind them as they pulled into Brann's driveway.
The wolf snarled, almost making Syndelle dizzy as it continued its restless pacing.
In an effort to calm the spirit inside her, Syndelle shifted so she could view Brann's profile. And what of this mate? You were anxious to claim him earlier. Is he not good enough by himself? Have you decided that he is unworthy of your attention?
Immediately the wolf stopped pacing and sat down, cocking its head and breathing deeply of Brann's scent before its eyes dropped to half-mast and its tongue moved over its lips. Syndelle laughed, a sound that drew Brann's eyes to hers as he stopped the car.
"You're at peace now with leaving Rafael behind?" His voice was a purr that had both Syndelle and the wolf shivering.
"Yes," Syndelle said, waiting from him to go around and open her door, to draw her out of the car. Another laugh escaped when he swung her into his arms and carried her into his house, not setting her down again until they reached his bedroom.
Though she hadn't seen it before, it looked exactly how she would have envisioned it. A huge, elaborately carved antique bed stood in the center, surrounded by a room full of richly colored tapestries and priceless artifacts-all guarded by strong wards and charms.
His hands went to her tank top and she obediently raised her arms so he could slip it off her. The bra was peeled away next, followed by the rest of her clothing and her shoes. For a long moment he did nothing, said nothing, as his eyes roamed over her body, and then he took his own clothing off and stood, allowing her to look at him.
There hadn't been time to truly appreciate his body before, but now Syndelle became lost in the sight. He was like a heavily muscled big cat, a tiger, predatory grace married to incredible strength.
She couldn't stop herself from stroking him, from exploring his shoulders, his chest, the hard male nipples.
His cock jutted between them, fully aroused, leaking, huge and thick with heavy balls hanging beneath it. When her hands stalled at his chest, he growled, his hips moving slightly as though demanding that her explorations continue downward, and a small thrill of feminine victory tightened Syndelle's body.
An unfamiliar tenderness assailed Brann. He'd thought to claim her the moment he had her back in his home, but somehow she'd once again turned the tables on him. She was a surprise that he found himself enjoying. A treasure he could savor in so many different ways.
Even her escape from his compound hadn't truly angered him. Nor had her show of independence when she so easily kept both him and Gian from knowing what transpired with Skye.
And now that he could mount her, riding her body until she locked him to her and closed the bond, he found himself willing to wait, willing to let her take the lead in this mating dance-at least for a little while.
His hands speared through her hair, tilting her face upward for his kiss. She moved in and the feel of her soft, hot skin against his almost undid his intention to allow her time. His tongue thrust into her mouth, stroking in and out like his cock would soon do in her channel. She whimpered and pressed against him, trapping his penis between them, unconsciously rubbing against it, making the fire in his blood roar hungrily. When he pulled his lips from hers, satisfaction joined the raging need. Her mouth was swollen, her breathing fast, her eyes filled with desire-the honest desire of a woman for a man-not the magic-induced mating lust of the Angelini or the thrall of vampire fascination.
He eased her onto the bed, settling himself on her, kissing and stroking her, praising her with his thoughts as her hands explored his body, rubbing and petting, making him shake with need as he had not done in centuries-not since he was a human male. When she guided him to her entrance he thought his heart would burst with happiness, with excitement, with anticipation-with the sheer need to couple.
And then he was inside her, held in a warm fist of female flesh as she whimpered softly underneath him, her hands raking across his buttocks and driving him deeper, compelling him to thrust, to savor, to claim. She cried out, kissing his chest, nuzzling his tight nipple and a different hunger roared to the surface.
His fingernail extended, sharp and deadly, a weapon-but this time he turned it on himself-opening a gash so that blood flowed over his nipple. And then it was Brann who was crying out, desperately thrusting as she took his blood, her pulls on his nipple as he fucked her more erotic than anything he'd ever experienced-either as a man or a vampire.
He pounded in and out of her, fighting off the need to orgasm for as long as he could, but finally the demands of his cock, the tight ache of his balls, couldn't be ignored any longer.
He pressed his need to come onto her, sharing with her the exquisite ache that rode him, that was almost painful in its intensity, and she cried out, accepting his will, clamping down on him, her release causing his penis to jerk inside her, spewing his seed in a hot blast of pleasure.
It was like opening the gates and allowing a wild, howling, magic-filled wind to rush in.
He felt the change in her immediately, the demands of her Angelini heritage, and he rolled to his back, taking her with him, her body still joined to his, his blood answering the call of hers, his heart thundering in his chest as her mouth went to his neck, biting down so hard that she broke the skin, sending fire racing through his bloodstream, a scorching wave of exquisite agony that had him growling, only barely able to keep from rising and putting her on her hands and knees.
Her lips and tongue tortured him as she licked and kissed her way down to the spot over his heart before marking him. Then she levered herself off his body and returned to the place on his inner thigh where she'd claimed him the night before.
Nothing in his existence had prepared him for the mating lust of the Angelini. His blood roared, rushing through his mind and heart and cock in an incessant chant to claim her, to mount her and drive himself deep into her channel, to pound into her until there was no barrier between them, until they were one body.
There was no fighting it.
When she lifted her head from his groin he pounced. A giant predator intent on only one thing, taking its mate.
He bit her, marking her in the same way that she'd marked him, and then she went willingly to her hands and knees, her legs spread, displaying the swollen, glistening folds of her labia, her channel dripping with arousal and the seed he'd spent earlier. The sight of it inflamed him, and he covered her body with his, driving hard and deep in a single thrust as his fangs sank onto the spot where her delicate neck met an equally feminine shoulder.
Wild lust raged through him, a primordial call that sprang from the oldest magic, from the very forces that had created all life, mortal and supernatural, prey and predator. It commanded his body as if he had no will of his own and he had no defenses against it, could do nothing other than ram his penis into her, desperately plunging in and out until finally a deep hidden place inside her opened, trapping the head of his cock, milking him of his seed repeatedly, claiming him completely and making him an Angelini mate.
* * * * *
Rafael dragged in at sunrise, his cock hard, his heart twisting painfully in his chest, a ball of confused emotions rolling in his gut. He'd stayed away, but it had cost him.
He found Syndelle in Brann's bedroom, asleep in Brann's bed. The one room, the one place in the house that he'd never dared to enter, until now.
Rafael moved to the side of the bed and undressed, studying Syndelle as she slept. She looked like an angel. One that might bring him salvation. Or damnation.
He couldn't bear the thought of climbing into his own bed and sleeping alone now that she was here. And so he did something he'd fought since the night Brann was forced into making him his companion-he slipped into the vampire's bed, knowing that after the sun set, they would all three be in it together, knowing that he was one step closer to becoming Brann's lover.
Rafael closed his eyes against images of being taken by Brann while Syndelle watched, of being taken while he devoured her pussy with his mouth, while she writhed underneath him as his cock filled her at the same time Brann tunneled in and out of his ass.
Unable to stop himself, Rafael wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping, squeezing, knowing that a man's touch was so much different than a woman's, but no less pleasurable.
His buttocks clenched and he groaned, arching into his own hand and rousing Syndelle with his thrusting. She moved over him, covering him with her body, opening herself, offering him a safe place, and Rafael cried out, accepting the sweet haven that she freely gave, the bond between them wide open-the shining willingness of her heart to love him almost more than he could bear.
They hadn't forced their pleasure on him last night, but he hadn't been able to keep from opening the link between them and knowing what they were doing, what they were feeling. And now he needed the touch of Syndelle's body against his, not just for sexual release, but for comfort.
He let her ride him, his hands rubbing over her breasts, her back, wanting to cry out at the intimacy of having her above him, her dark curtain of hair falling on either side of his face, trapping them in a world of their own.
She leaned down, brushing his lips with hers, licking lightly at the seam of his mouth, a gentle offering, a wolf greeting its mate, and he groaned, pulling her down and rolling with her so that he was on top. "Oh god, Syndelle," he whispered, his thrusts becoming rough, desperate, as he took her mouth with his, as her hands stroked his buttocks before her fingers trailed along the crevice between them, brushing over the pucker of his anus and sending him careening out of control.