Summary:
A vampire guilty of murder on the run from justice to prove his innocence. A werewolf sent to retrieve him with one thought – that only the guilty run.
Vampire Micah Jamieson is found guilty of killing his human husband. He runs from the execution he is facing to get home. He just has to pray he’ll reach home before supernatural law enforcement, in the shape of a Glitnir Court Retriever close in on him.
Wolf shifter and Retriever, Connor Strand easily captures Micah and he’s fully prepared to take the runaway in. But his wolf has other ideas.
Something about Micah challenges Connor and his long held beliefs. What if Micah is actually innocent? Will Connor put to one side his own prejudices, and then risk both his life and career to keep Micah safe?
Summary:
Declan Finlay is hunting the guilty werewolf, his friend Connor. The incubus, Levi Tiernan, is his companion on the hunt. If Declan doesn't track and kill Connor, then Levi will.
oOo
Declan Finlay is the best Retriever that Glitnir has.
Well, he is now that Connor Strand has gone rogue.
He is sent to hunt Connor - the guilty werewolf. But he doubts that his best friend could ever be guilty and he resolves to track him down and find out why he ran with the renegade vampire.
When the Fae Alliance, reporting to Glitnir, demand that he not go alone he is forced to accept the incubus, Levi Tiernan, an assassin, as his companion on the journey. If Declan doesn't kill Connor, then Levi will.
What happens when old lust and love dictate action and suddenly Declan is questioning everything he knows.
Summary:
In a world where magic is rare, Joseph Jamieson is a holder of power. Orophin Tiwele, or Phin to his friends, is the son of the Elf King and has magic of his own. The rules say two supernatural beings with magic cannot be together and Joseph and Phin have lived by that rule despite their attraction to each other.
The resistance is growing larger each day, but traitors threaten everything Joseph has built. He wants peace, but soon comes to realize the way to peace, is through war.
When the only thing that will save lives is Joseph and Phin working together, it becomes impossible to see where magic and passion end and where love could begin.
Summary:
When Simeon, a mountain lion shifter meets Asher, a blood demon, there is instant attraction. But, how can they act on the way they feel when there is an entire kingdom at stake.
Asherkan Iblis is a blood demon, a slave to elves and a soldier. He keeps the fact he has royal elvish blood a secret. His half brother returns to broker peace but reveals he is actually there for much more and Asher faces a decision that could lead to his death.
Simeon Blue, brother of the leader of the Feline Guild, mountain lion shifter, is tasked to accompany Phin on a mission over the Red Mountains and into the Second Kingdom. He has to talk to the Guild but all they want to do is stay in isolation and his mission is fraught with danger.
When Simeon is wounded Asher hides him and suddenly, next to a kings death, a cousin's hate, and Ludvik's black magic, love falls on the agenda.
Summary:
Nicholas Tarrant has worked hard for his position on the Werewolf Coalition. Having access to whatever is happening inside the Coalition is important to the Underground and he's good at blending in.
Brody Lennox is sent to Glitnir to broker talks of peace but is dragged broken and bloody into the Council chambers. Ludvik wants him killed as a traitor.
Can Nicholas save Brody? Or is Brody too broken to be saved?
Summary:
The story that began as a simple Retriever case, has become the tale of the fight against a thousand years of evil.
The wolf shifters have Niceros to take down. The Vampire Twins have to deal with Cassius. The Second Kingdom is in disarray and Simeon, Asher and Phin are desperate to calm the unrest.
An alpha needs to accept his role, a blood demon has to become the King he was meant to be, and the Vampire twins have to end the war.
Against all this, Reuben and Ethan, lovers separated for a millennium, are thrown back in to a war to end the poison that is Ludvik Peitrol.
In a battle on the barren fields of Arberfan is where this story will end.
This is an overall series review as you really can't read just one. Each book may center on a different couple but each is just another piece of the puzzle that is Supernatural Bounty Hunters. The mystery behind the vampire twins, Joseph and Micah, quest for peace leads us on a journey of blood, deceit, death, and love. Another great world created by RJ Scott that brings you a little bit of everything and makes for a great Halloween read. Who am I kidding? It makes for a great read anytime of the year,
RATING:
The Vampire Contract #1
“How’s your arm?” Micah finally asked.
Connor glanced down at his arm. He remembered bones snapping and stabbing through his skin, but there was nothing there except faint marks and an ache in his muscles. He stalked towards the vampire and Micah scrambled to stand.
“I’m taking you back,” Connor growled. His claws curved viciously from the tips of his fingers and he flexed his hand. He stepped over the dying fire and then suddenly he stopped. He didn’t mean to. He attempted to force his legs to move in some semblance of walking, but there was nothing. His wolf snarled inside him, forcing its way up and in control and stopping him from moving an inch. His wolf stopped the angry push, forcing him to step back from Micah. Startled, Connor stopped exactly where he was.
“What did you do?” he snarled.
“Nothing.” Micah held out his hands palm up and he looked so damn innocent. “I promise you I didn’t do a thing.”
Connor attempted to move forward again, but the muscles in his legs locked into place like he had walked into a brick wall as his wolf yanked him to a standstill.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Pretty sure your wolf scented me and loved me last night,” Micah teased.
“What?”
“You don’t remember?” Micah asked. “I’m losing my touch.”
Connor lifted a hand and ran it through his unruly shaggy hair and then tugged on it sharply to check he wasn’t dreaming. The prick of pain was enough to convince that instead of working with him, his wolf side was somehow making decisions his conscious human form couldn’t cash.
“I remember…” What did he recall? The fight, the tree, his arm snapping like a twig. That wasn’t right. He peered at his arm, which was break free. Fuck, he must have hit his head damn hard to have blocked out shifting in his sleep. “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t remember anything after the tree.”
Micah nodded. “You hit it pretty hard.” He looked guilty and suddenly couldn’t look Connor in the eye. Tapping his own head, he added, “Head first.”
The tension in Connor’s muscles as he leaned into the press-back from the wolf was getting tiring, and with a curse of exasperation he returned to the place he had woken up with the stones and ash of a fire between them and Micah still unable to look him in the eye.
This was the first time he’d really seen what Micah looked like close-up. Shorter than Connor by a small amount with jet-black hair, he looked young.
“I’m sorry I did that,” Micah offered softly. He lifted his chin and looked at Connor directly.
“How did you do it?” Connor asked. He needed to know how for the first time in ten years of retrieval he had been bested. And by a vampire no less.
“Luck,” Micah said quickly.
“You’re lying,” Connor snapped. His wolf agreed. At least this was one thing that could be settled in this unwelcome war of control inside him.
Micah moved quickly into a couple of practiced smooth moves. “There. You see. I know moves.”
Connor watched with amazement at the vampire throwing some kind of half-hearted chop through the air followed up by a stumble and kick.
“Clearly you do,” he said dryly. “But what part of that includes being able to throw me against a tree?”
Micah looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. Evidently he had to decide on what to tell Connor.
“You were hurt. You wouldn’t have known what happened to you,” he finally offered. He shrugged and then looked at Connor directly. “You shifted, you healed.”
Connor sighed. He attempted to move again, but there was no way his wolf was letting him move anything but backwards. Frustrated, he threw his hands up and summarized exactly what he wanted. “Make this easy and come back to Glitnir with me?”
“Yeah, because every vampire wants his head removed from his body with a sharp axe. Forgive me if I’m not seeing the benefits of giving in and going back.”
“You’re a murderer,” Connor spat. “I read you the rules. We’ll never stop hunting you until you’re dead by Court hands or ours.”
“Then you’ll have to kill me,” Micah snapped back. “I didn’t kill Ethan. I wouldn’t kill Ethan.”
The Guilty Werewolf #2
Declan wanted to be out front and ready to track Phin and it sounded like they were saying their goodbyes. He scented the air and made sure he could get enough of Phin’s smell to mean he could halfway track the little guy. Then he shuffled back as quietly as he could, but stopped when he came up against a warm body. Glancing behind him, Levi was right there and Declan glared at him. Without words he declared his irritability with the Fae. Levi merely stared back with stony focus. Declan leaned in to encourage the damn man to move just as a blade passed through the space his head had been. That slight move forward had been enough to save his life.
The knife, small but deadly, embedded itself in the oven unit opposite that he had been using as a mirror. Immediately in defence mode Declan ducked lower and used the mirrored metal to ascertain what the hell was happening. The barman, Abb, stared at the space they were hidden in. No sign of Phin. This was not the optimum place to be holed up in and he glanced behind him to communicate that to his shadow, but there was no sign of Levi.
Great. Declan was pretty exposed here and the freaking incubus had abandoned him. He should have known. All that talk about fighting for tradition and Levi was the first to run when things went south.
Another knife flew too close for comfort, parting his hair and, by the feel of it, drawing blood. Looking at the beautiful, intricate knives told him one thing; the barman was no mild mannered bear shifter who plied you with alcohol, then took your money. He evidently had mad knife throwing skills. Not a good start for Declan in this whole escaping-with-his-life-intact situation.
He heard a thud and cautiously leaned so he could look in the mirrored surface. What he saw had him scrambling to stand. The barman was felled like a tree, dead straight on the floor with his eyes shut and his breathing shallow. Levi loomed over him like some kind of ghostly apparition with wisps of scarlet lingering around him.
“What did you do?” Declan asked.
“Took him out.”
“He’s dead? Did you suck him?”
“I wish you’d stop calling it that.”
“Well, did you?”
“No. Okay? I didn’t take any of his emotions, although I couldn’t help some of the anger that trickled into me.”
Declan blinked at what Levi was saying. Like it didn’t matter the incubus had accidentally taken something from someone.
“Will he get it back?” Declan snapped.
“What?”
“His anger.”
“His anger?” Levi looked confused, then realisation cross his features. “You think when I… That I… It’s not permanent, Declan. Don’t they teach you anything in Fae 101?”
Declan crouched and felt for a pulse, then looked up at Levi. “No killing,” he said. “Not on my watch.”
“Says the animal with teeth and claws,” Levi said dryly.
The Warlock's Secret #3
Phin watched Micah and Connor from the cover of the trees for some time. That was, until Connor sniffed the air and turned his way, then he knew he had to step out.
“What do you want?” he snapped irritably. “I’ve had Declan and Levi tracking me to the west and you two here. I’m not going back to listen to Joseph’s crap anymore.” He exhaled heavily. Why he was being so careful not to use his magic to evade this childish hunting game escaped him. He should just port out of here and find a place where the resistance, the hunters, and most of all Joseph, didn’t get up in his face. It was bad enough he’d had to explain himself to his father after he’d sent Asher home near death.
“It’s Joseph,” Micah said. “He’s missing.”
“He’s probably up a mountain communing with nature,” Phin dismissed. Despite hearing something off in Micah’s voice, he wasn’t getting involved. Joseph had this way of finding trouble, then evading it at the last minute. He’d be fine.
“Tell him,” Connor said firmly.
Phin crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t like Connor’s tone. It suggested Micah was reluctant to tell him something.
“Tell me what?” he asked suspiciously.
Micah sighed. “We need your help. Joseph used magic to create a portal to get inside Glitnir.”
Phin dropped his stance of stubbornness and allowed his shock to come to the forefront. He stepped closer to Micah who, to his credit, didn’t move. “What the hell?” Phin shouted. “You know he shouldn’t…we shouldn’t…” He was lost for words. There was a reason they didn’t use their powers near anything to do with Glitnir. Supernaturals with magic were sought after and placed in hiding for their own protection. No one with the kind of skills inside them that he and Joseph had, would be allowed to be free of Glitnir interference.
“We were in the old library,” Micah said, “and he stayed behind and closed the portal.”
“Why would he do that?” Phin demanded. “Did he want to be trapped? Is he suicidal? Hell Micah. Why didn’t you stop him?” Very real fear built inside him. Joseph was inside Glitnir—and he’d used magic? He wouldn’t wish that combination on anyone if anyone had found out. Why hadn’t Joseph just got out? Where was he? None of this could be good.
“I couldn’t stop him,” Micah snapped. “We were discovered. We barricaded the door, he opened the portal, I went through with Levi, and he shut the connection down so no one could follow us.”
“Why did you even let him go there in the first place?” Phin stood right up in front of Micah and, despite having to look up at the vampire, he had Micah backing a step away.
“No one lets Joseph do anything,” Connor defended. He moved to stand between Phin and Micah and his tone and body language stopped Phin’s growing anger in its tracks.
Micah shook his head. “What’s done is done,” he said. “We need to get him out.”
Phin shook his head. “We can’t. He’s on his own.” Phin watched as Micah and Connor exchanged glances. What now? He knew he should have spent more time wandering the forest and less time leaving trails for Connor and Declan to follow. He’d been having fun playing with the two wolf shifters, but evidently Micah wanted him to get serious.
“We found something,” Micah started.
“A journal,” Connor interrupted.
Micah nodded. “A vampire journal. The one mentioned in the prophesies that say it will come to the twins from the royal line of the Sinclairs—”
Connor interrupted. “The prophesy about how one of them will have magic and that twin will lead an army for change.”
Phin felt like he was watching Micah and Joseph when they were together. Connor and Micah were evidently in synch given they kept finishing each other’s sentences. He held up a hand to stop them doing that back and forth in the explanation.
“Connor, you’d best go and find Declan. I left him circling a chalk pit last I saw him. Bring him and Levi here.”
Connor opened his mouth to protest, but a gentle touch from Micah’s hand on his arm had him stripping, shifting, and running the direction Phin indicated. Suddenly tired and needing to sit, Phin walked to the nearest fallen tree and perched himself on one end. He crossed his legs, then with a wave of his hand, indicated Micah should sit opposite.
Micah didn’t argue and the vampire began to talk as soon as he sat down. “The Journal Of Days was what Joseph was looking for at the Vampire Clan’s Council house. It wasn’t there, but he tracked it to Glitnir.”
“Why do you think this journal is so important?” Phin knew a little about vampire society, and he’d heard the prophesies, otherwise he wouldn’t be here alongside Joseph and Micah in this Underground they’d set up. He just hadn’t thought the journal mentioned in the prophesy would ever be found. Just the mention of Joseph again had fear curling inside him. What the hell made the idiot think going into Glitnir was a good thing.
Micah sighed heavily. “When Glitnir was first created and the vamps, werewolves, and the fae all held council, no one wanted the vampires to be part of it.”
“I recall reading that somewhere.”
“What most supernaturals don’t know is that this journal was a way of the vampires placating the others. The wolves and fae were concerned about the vampires creating a whole race of blood demons tied to them as donors, and about the fact they killed indiscriminately. The Vampire Clans Council agreed to have a book that contained, in detail, the workings of the council. It would automatically mark every action by a vampire and be proof in case the fae and the wolves suspected the vamps were planning to overthrow them and take Glitnir as theirs.”
“Every vampire action?”
Micah sighed. “Anything deemed important. The journal was spelled and locked and it was never to be removed from the vault. In fact it could only be opened by these mythical twins from the prophesies and only at the time of real need. Together.”
The Demon's Blood #4
“I didn’t offer you a role because what I want you to do means I need to share something with you that I have to be certain you won’t reveal to another soul, and only you alone can know.” Joseph looked deadly serious.
Simeon felt himself frown. Where was the openness now? A team, any kind of team with secrets, was destined to implode. Especially a team who didn’t all sleep together.
“I don’t like secrets,” he said firmly. Declan had said the same thing this morning. Declan, whose scent wasn’t as irritating as Connor’s, and his incubus lover, Levi, along with Brody, were off making contact with the bears at the foot of the Trent Forest. Why it took two incubi to deal with bears, Simeon didn’t understand, but he didn’t question Joseph’s intentions. The vamp had magic running through his veins and Simeon at least respected the ancient power that resided inside Joseph, even though he didn’t understand it.
The door opened and Reuben came back in the room with a whoop and a clash of knives and body armour. He looked faintly ridiculous when you saw him sitting at ease, but Simeon had watched the ancient warrior at practice with his sword and even he had to admit Reuben was pretty good with the sharp stuff.
Simeon had even attempted to ascertain whether Reuben liked males, but for some reason his normal instincts evaded him whenever Reuben joined him in the room. Probably something to do with the fact Reuben was eight hundred or so years old, and that he had been imprisoned by magic. Reuben sat in the seat opposite Simeon and next to Joseph. Simeon instantly felt like he was under interrogation. What was Reuben doing being part of this whole secret sharing thing? Simeon straightened in his seat, but not before he saw Joseph cast an irritated look at the manner of Reuben’s entrance.
“Why is Reuben here then?” Simeon asked. “If this secret is so damn special?”
“Because I have to know everything,” Reuben announced grandly.
Joseph frowned and glanced at Reuben. “That isn’t exactly accurate, but he has a point,” he began. “Reuben is here to record the details I’m giving you into the Vampire Book of Days.”
Simeon looked for paper or a pen, or anything that indicated this information would be put to record, but all he could see was a smirking Reuben tapping his forehead. Simeon remained uneasy at the thought Reuben could trap information with his freaky, enchanted book-brain.
Simeon was also suspicious. “Why does what I do, a member of the Feline Guild, need to be recorded in some ancient book of blood suckers?”
Reuben scowled and made a move towards Simeon. Joseph stopped him with a hand across his chest.
“Bring it,” Simeon snarled in response.
“Not worth it,” Reuben replied disinterestedly.
Joseph sighed and suddenly appeared very tired. “Firstly, so we can track if you break the agreement to secrecy. Although what Reuben wants to do with that information if you do break the agreement, I dread to think.”
“I’ll kill him,” Reuben said with a sniff before snarling with his fangs drawn. He stabbed a knife into the wooden desktop.
Simeon merely raised an eyebrow in dismissal. “You don’t scare me, vampire.” He laughed.
Reuben stood and leaned over the table and, in a movement so quick it blurred, he had Simeon pressed against the stone wall, Simeon’s legs dangling and Reuben’s hands around Simeon’s neck.
“Stop!” Joseph ordered. “For pity's sake, Reuben, sit down.”
Reuben tightened his hold momentarily and Simeon simply stared at him. His breathing was compromised, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to show it. Finally, Reuben released Simeon, then sat back down.
“You break your word, cat, I will find you in that instant, connected to the magic in this promise, and I will use my sword to split you in half.” He flicked a fang with his nail as if to emphasise the point.
Joseph continued immediately, as if Reuben hadn’t just threatened death and mayhem.
The Incubus Agenda #5
Nick Tarrant took a careful step back and leaned against the large oak chairs around the outside of the room. He had to be more in shadow and less in the middle of the heated discussion that already had one council member threatening to kill another. Newly elected, he finally had his place of the Werewolf Coalition but he wasn’t willing to put his neck out just yet to say what he thought. He had his own ideas that would remain hidden inside him until they needed to be turned into proper plans.
“This rebellion has to be stopped,” Cassius shouted over the noise of the arguing, which grew more violent and exponentially louder by the second. Cassius was the Head of the Vampire Clans Council and he was here, it seemed, to do nothing more than rile up the Wolf shifters and incite them to war. Given wolf shifters never did anything by halves and with the council split over the matter of Glitnir, Nick was waiting for his fellow wolves to shift and tear off into the forest looking for the rebellious Underground.
Only Niceros sat quietly to one side much as Nick did. His expression was guarded but Nick could swear there was the faint hint of a smile on his face. He was the big wolf in the Coalition now. Not only did he have twenty Retrievers under his control but he was cozied up to Cassius. Seeing the vampire and the werewolf together never failed to send shivers of apprehension down Nick’s spine.
“Glitnir has done nothing for us,” a new addition to the rank of Retrievers snarled. Nick couldn’t recall the shifter’s name, such was the turnover of Retrievers at the moment. Two other wolves pulled him to one side and proceeded to pummel him into the ground. Snarls and growls and sudden silence made Nick think that the Retrievers were going to be one short now. What the fuck was happening here? Everything was out of control.
“Does anyone else have anything to say?” Cassius shouted over the noise to make himself heard. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down from his height to the shorter wolves. Nick could see how this was going. Over half of the Coalition was behind this vampire, which put the vamps and the wolves squarely on the side of Glitnir in this crap. Not exactly the outcome that Nick was hoping for but he wasn’t saying a thing to the contrary of general opinion. His job was to stay quiet and get the intelligence he gathered to Joseph without getting caught, nothing more, nothing less. Silence fell over the room.
This closed Coalition meeting was anything but. Not only was Cassius here in his flowing black floor-length cloak that screamed pretentious, but Ludvik freaking Peitrol was outside in the ante room after asking for audience to talk. Nick couldn’t recall the last time that a vampire was allowed to address a full meeting of a werewolf council, but add in the fact Ludvik was fae and suddenly anything like tradition was being shot to pieces.
Not one wolf spoke up against Glitnir but a few looked at the prone body of the dead Retriever and the blood that pooled under his torn throat. It was so easy to kill these days, no one stopped a murder in the name of pushing down the rebellion.
“Then we’re agreed?” Niceros finally spoke up. Everyone in the room turned to him with expectation on their faces. He stood and Nick had to admit he looked every bit a big bad wolf. “Do we need to put this to a vote?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I put forward the motion that the Werewolf Coalition forms an alliance with the Vampire Clans Council and puts our support solidly behind the Fae and Glitnir.”
Silence.
Then each of the Retrievers that were left lifted their hands and as one each shifter in the room, even Nick, copied the gesture.
The Third Kingdom #6
Reuben stumbled over loose stones and wet grass in his hurry to get down into the space at the bottom of the incline. Methulan was here, standing in the centre of the destroyed space and waiting for him. Sudden doubts forced him to an abrupt halt when he reached level ground. Was this a trick? Some old magic that gave the illusion of the other half of his heart standing so lost and lonely in the very place of the last battle—the spot where Methulan died and Reuben lost his will to live?
“Methulan?” he called uncertainly. He hoped to hell Brody and Nick weren’t watching this epic uncertainty. They would surely think him one hell of a coward for not striding forward and damning the consequences.
The figure held out his hands. “Reuben,” he said.
That was Methulan’s voice, his beautiful face. The only thing that was different was his hair: long and white-blond, it framed his features. Reuben pushed aside his fear that this was all some kind of cruel revenge from a past foe. Someone like Lekland the Kappa—or Ludvik as he was known now—a creature bent on becoming a god in his own lifetime and not letting anyone stand in his way.
Reuben took a step forward, then another, faltering over discarded rocks, evidence of the battle that had once been fought on this sacred earth. Soon his walk grew into a steady run. Methulan moved towards him and suddenly he was right up to Methulan before he could think of any more reasons why this was a bad thing. He fell into Methulan’s arms, a cry of wonder passing his lips as Methulan embraced him and held him steady. For long minutes they held each other, and Reuben fought back the emotion that threatened to push him to his knees.
“Reuben,” Methulan was saying over and over. “Reuben. My love. I thought you were dead.” Methulan tightened his grip and Reuben grabbed at his jacket and held tight, the supple leather wrapping around his fingers. The feel of him, the scent of him, every part of Methulan was here. This was no apparition.
Methulan pulled away and Reuben could see the agony carved into the other man’s face. “Too long,” he murmured.
Reuben shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You died. I saw you kill yourself because of me. I don’t…” He couldn’t think of the right words, let alone utter them in a coherent fashion. Instead he released his hold on the leather and cradled Methulan’s face. He stared directly into silver eyes, one flecked with blue, the other green. Then, before he could question anything, he kissed Methulan, at first a soft reconnection, then forcefully enough to have them both gasping for air. It was always like this, incendiary, instant, a passion so quick to ignite it burned them both. They kissed again, but this time Methulan gentled the taste and twisted his hands into Reuben’s long, unruly curls. Anchored this way they kissed for the longest time, with Reuben desperate for more.
They pulled apart at some unspoken agreement, and Reuben glanced at Methulan’s plump lips, swollen from their kisses. His lover hadn’t changed much apart from his hair, which used to be dark and thick and short. Other than that he hadn’t aged and there were no scars, so he looked as perfect as the very last minute before he died. His white-blond hair made a veil around his face and his beautiful eyes focused only on Reuben.
“Where are your friends?” Methulan asked softly.
Reuben cast a look up the side of the incline. “You knew I came with someone?”
Methulan nodded. “The incubus I sent to Joseph and the wolf I showed the name of this place to. I knew their curiosity would mean they’d accompany you, and I could see you.”
Reuben felt an irrational burst of temper. “You’ve been watching me,” he stated with heat. “How long? Where have you been? Why couldn’t I see you?”
Methulan gripped his hands tight—he looked broken, devastated, and so sad. “Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleaded.
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“I can’t help the connection we have, but it’s the only thing that kept me here for a thousand years.”
Methulan wasn’t answering the question at all. In fact he was being deliberately vague about everything.
“I saw you die,” Reuben repeated.
“How’s your arm?” Micah finally asked.
Connor glanced down at his arm. He remembered bones snapping and stabbing through his skin, but there was nothing there except faint marks and an ache in his muscles. He stalked towards the vampire and Micah scrambled to stand.
“I’m taking you back,” Connor growled. His claws curved viciously from the tips of his fingers and he flexed his hand. He stepped over the dying fire and then suddenly he stopped. He didn’t mean to. He attempted to force his legs to move in some semblance of walking, but there was nothing. His wolf snarled inside him, forcing its way up and in control and stopping him from moving an inch. His wolf stopped the angry push, forcing him to step back from Micah. Startled, Connor stopped exactly where he was.
“What did you do?” he snarled.
“Nothing.” Micah held out his hands palm up and he looked so damn innocent. “I promise you I didn’t do a thing.”
Connor attempted to move forward again, but the muscles in his legs locked into place like he had walked into a brick wall as his wolf yanked him to a standstill.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Pretty sure your wolf scented me and loved me last night,” Micah teased.
“What?”
“You don’t remember?” Micah asked. “I’m losing my touch.”
Connor lifted a hand and ran it through his unruly shaggy hair and then tugged on it sharply to check he wasn’t dreaming. The prick of pain was enough to convince that instead of working with him, his wolf side was somehow making decisions his conscious human form couldn’t cash.
“I remember…” What did he recall? The fight, the tree, his arm snapping like a twig. That wasn’t right. He peered at his arm, which was break free. Fuck, he must have hit his head damn hard to have blocked out shifting in his sleep. “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t remember anything after the tree.”
Micah nodded. “You hit it pretty hard.” He looked guilty and suddenly couldn’t look Connor in the eye. Tapping his own head, he added, “Head first.”
The tension in Connor’s muscles as he leaned into the press-back from the wolf was getting tiring, and with a curse of exasperation he returned to the place he had woken up with the stones and ash of a fire between them and Micah still unable to look him in the eye.
This was the first time he’d really seen what Micah looked like close-up. Shorter than Connor by a small amount with jet-black hair, he looked young.
“I’m sorry I did that,” Micah offered softly. He lifted his chin and looked at Connor directly.
“How did you do it?” Connor asked. He needed to know how for the first time in ten years of retrieval he had been bested. And by a vampire no less.
“Luck,” Micah said quickly.
“You’re lying,” Connor snapped. His wolf agreed. At least this was one thing that could be settled in this unwelcome war of control inside him.
Micah moved quickly into a couple of practiced smooth moves. “There. You see. I know moves.”
Connor watched with amazement at the vampire throwing some kind of half-hearted chop through the air followed up by a stumble and kick.
“Clearly you do,” he said dryly. “But what part of that includes being able to throw me against a tree?”
Micah looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. Evidently he had to decide on what to tell Connor.
“You were hurt. You wouldn’t have known what happened to you,” he finally offered. He shrugged and then looked at Connor directly. “You shifted, you healed.”
Connor sighed. He attempted to move again, but there was no way his wolf was letting him move anything but backwards. Frustrated, he threw his hands up and summarized exactly what he wanted. “Make this easy and come back to Glitnir with me?”
“Yeah, because every vampire wants his head removed from his body with a sharp axe. Forgive me if I’m not seeing the benefits of giving in and going back.”
“You’re a murderer,” Connor spat. “I read you the rules. We’ll never stop hunting you until you’re dead by Court hands or ours.”
“Then you’ll have to kill me,” Micah snapped back. “I didn’t kill Ethan. I wouldn’t kill Ethan.”
The Guilty Werewolf #2
Declan wanted to be out front and ready to track Phin and it sounded like they were saying their goodbyes. He scented the air and made sure he could get enough of Phin’s smell to mean he could halfway track the little guy. Then he shuffled back as quietly as he could, but stopped when he came up against a warm body. Glancing behind him, Levi was right there and Declan glared at him. Without words he declared his irritability with the Fae. Levi merely stared back with stony focus. Declan leaned in to encourage the damn man to move just as a blade passed through the space his head had been. That slight move forward had been enough to save his life.
The knife, small but deadly, embedded itself in the oven unit opposite that he had been using as a mirror. Immediately in defence mode Declan ducked lower and used the mirrored metal to ascertain what the hell was happening. The barman, Abb, stared at the space they were hidden in. No sign of Phin. This was not the optimum place to be holed up in and he glanced behind him to communicate that to his shadow, but there was no sign of Levi.
Great. Declan was pretty exposed here and the freaking incubus had abandoned him. He should have known. All that talk about fighting for tradition and Levi was the first to run when things went south.
Another knife flew too close for comfort, parting his hair and, by the feel of it, drawing blood. Looking at the beautiful, intricate knives told him one thing; the barman was no mild mannered bear shifter who plied you with alcohol, then took your money. He evidently had mad knife throwing skills. Not a good start for Declan in this whole escaping-with-his-life-intact situation.
He heard a thud and cautiously leaned so he could look in the mirrored surface. What he saw had him scrambling to stand. The barman was felled like a tree, dead straight on the floor with his eyes shut and his breathing shallow. Levi loomed over him like some kind of ghostly apparition with wisps of scarlet lingering around him.
“What did you do?” Declan asked.
“Took him out.”
“He’s dead? Did you suck him?”
“I wish you’d stop calling it that.”
“Well, did you?”
“No. Okay? I didn’t take any of his emotions, although I couldn’t help some of the anger that trickled into me.”
Declan blinked at what Levi was saying. Like it didn’t matter the incubus had accidentally taken something from someone.
“Will he get it back?” Declan snapped.
“What?”
“His anger.”
“His anger?” Levi looked confused, then realisation cross his features. “You think when I… That I… It’s not permanent, Declan. Don’t they teach you anything in Fae 101?”
Declan crouched and felt for a pulse, then looked up at Levi. “No killing,” he said. “Not on my watch.”
“Says the animal with teeth and claws,” Levi said dryly.
The Warlock's Secret #3
Phin watched Micah and Connor from the cover of the trees for some time. That was, until Connor sniffed the air and turned his way, then he knew he had to step out.
“What do you want?” he snapped irritably. “I’ve had Declan and Levi tracking me to the west and you two here. I’m not going back to listen to Joseph’s crap anymore.” He exhaled heavily. Why he was being so careful not to use his magic to evade this childish hunting game escaped him. He should just port out of here and find a place where the resistance, the hunters, and most of all Joseph, didn’t get up in his face. It was bad enough he’d had to explain himself to his father after he’d sent Asher home near death.
“It’s Joseph,” Micah said. “He’s missing.”
“He’s probably up a mountain communing with nature,” Phin dismissed. Despite hearing something off in Micah’s voice, he wasn’t getting involved. Joseph had this way of finding trouble, then evading it at the last minute. He’d be fine.
“Tell him,” Connor said firmly.
Phin crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t like Connor’s tone. It suggested Micah was reluctant to tell him something.
“Tell me what?” he asked suspiciously.
Micah sighed. “We need your help. Joseph used magic to create a portal to get inside Glitnir.”
Phin dropped his stance of stubbornness and allowed his shock to come to the forefront. He stepped closer to Micah who, to his credit, didn’t move. “What the hell?” Phin shouted. “You know he shouldn’t…we shouldn’t…” He was lost for words. There was a reason they didn’t use their powers near anything to do with Glitnir. Supernaturals with magic were sought after and placed in hiding for their own protection. No one with the kind of skills inside them that he and Joseph had, would be allowed to be free of Glitnir interference.
“We were in the old library,” Micah said, “and he stayed behind and closed the portal.”
“Why would he do that?” Phin demanded. “Did he want to be trapped? Is he suicidal? Hell Micah. Why didn’t you stop him?” Very real fear built inside him. Joseph was inside Glitnir—and he’d used magic? He wouldn’t wish that combination on anyone if anyone had found out. Why hadn’t Joseph just got out? Where was he? None of this could be good.
“I couldn’t stop him,” Micah snapped. “We were discovered. We barricaded the door, he opened the portal, I went through with Levi, and he shut the connection down so no one could follow us.”
“Why did you even let him go there in the first place?” Phin stood right up in front of Micah and, despite having to look up at the vampire, he had Micah backing a step away.
“No one lets Joseph do anything,” Connor defended. He moved to stand between Phin and Micah and his tone and body language stopped Phin’s growing anger in its tracks.
Micah shook his head. “What’s done is done,” he said. “We need to get him out.”
Phin shook his head. “We can’t. He’s on his own.” Phin watched as Micah and Connor exchanged glances. What now? He knew he should have spent more time wandering the forest and less time leaving trails for Connor and Declan to follow. He’d been having fun playing with the two wolf shifters, but evidently Micah wanted him to get serious.
“We found something,” Micah started.
“A journal,” Connor interrupted.
Micah nodded. “A vampire journal. The one mentioned in the prophesies that say it will come to the twins from the royal line of the Sinclairs—”
Connor interrupted. “The prophesy about how one of them will have magic and that twin will lead an army for change.”
Phin felt like he was watching Micah and Joseph when they were together. Connor and Micah were evidently in synch given they kept finishing each other’s sentences. He held up a hand to stop them doing that back and forth in the explanation.
“Connor, you’d best go and find Declan. I left him circling a chalk pit last I saw him. Bring him and Levi here.”
Connor opened his mouth to protest, but a gentle touch from Micah’s hand on his arm had him stripping, shifting, and running the direction Phin indicated. Suddenly tired and needing to sit, Phin walked to the nearest fallen tree and perched himself on one end. He crossed his legs, then with a wave of his hand, indicated Micah should sit opposite.
Micah didn’t argue and the vampire began to talk as soon as he sat down. “The Journal Of Days was what Joseph was looking for at the Vampire Clan’s Council house. It wasn’t there, but he tracked it to Glitnir.”
“Why do you think this journal is so important?” Phin knew a little about vampire society, and he’d heard the prophesies, otherwise he wouldn’t be here alongside Joseph and Micah in this Underground they’d set up. He just hadn’t thought the journal mentioned in the prophesy would ever be found. Just the mention of Joseph again had fear curling inside him. What the hell made the idiot think going into Glitnir was a good thing.
Micah sighed heavily. “When Glitnir was first created and the vamps, werewolves, and the fae all held council, no one wanted the vampires to be part of it.”
“I recall reading that somewhere.”
“What most supernaturals don’t know is that this journal was a way of the vampires placating the others. The wolves and fae were concerned about the vampires creating a whole race of blood demons tied to them as donors, and about the fact they killed indiscriminately. The Vampire Clans Council agreed to have a book that contained, in detail, the workings of the council. It would automatically mark every action by a vampire and be proof in case the fae and the wolves suspected the vamps were planning to overthrow them and take Glitnir as theirs.”
“Every vampire action?”
Micah sighed. “Anything deemed important. The journal was spelled and locked and it was never to be removed from the vault. In fact it could only be opened by these mythical twins from the prophesies and only at the time of real need. Together.”
The Demon's Blood #4
“I didn’t offer you a role because what I want you to do means I need to share something with you that I have to be certain you won’t reveal to another soul, and only you alone can know.” Joseph looked deadly serious.
Simeon felt himself frown. Where was the openness now? A team, any kind of team with secrets, was destined to implode. Especially a team who didn’t all sleep together.
“I don’t like secrets,” he said firmly. Declan had said the same thing this morning. Declan, whose scent wasn’t as irritating as Connor’s, and his incubus lover, Levi, along with Brody, were off making contact with the bears at the foot of the Trent Forest. Why it took two incubi to deal with bears, Simeon didn’t understand, but he didn’t question Joseph’s intentions. The vamp had magic running through his veins and Simeon at least respected the ancient power that resided inside Joseph, even though he didn’t understand it.
The door opened and Reuben came back in the room with a whoop and a clash of knives and body armour. He looked faintly ridiculous when you saw him sitting at ease, but Simeon had watched the ancient warrior at practice with his sword and even he had to admit Reuben was pretty good with the sharp stuff.
Simeon had even attempted to ascertain whether Reuben liked males, but for some reason his normal instincts evaded him whenever Reuben joined him in the room. Probably something to do with the fact Reuben was eight hundred or so years old, and that he had been imprisoned by magic. Reuben sat in the seat opposite Simeon and next to Joseph. Simeon instantly felt like he was under interrogation. What was Reuben doing being part of this whole secret sharing thing? Simeon straightened in his seat, but not before he saw Joseph cast an irritated look at the manner of Reuben’s entrance.
“Why is Reuben here then?” Simeon asked. “If this secret is so damn special?”
“Because I have to know everything,” Reuben announced grandly.
Joseph frowned and glanced at Reuben. “That isn’t exactly accurate, but he has a point,” he began. “Reuben is here to record the details I’m giving you into the Vampire Book of Days.”
Simeon looked for paper or a pen, or anything that indicated this information would be put to record, but all he could see was a smirking Reuben tapping his forehead. Simeon remained uneasy at the thought Reuben could trap information with his freaky, enchanted book-brain.
Simeon was also suspicious. “Why does what I do, a member of the Feline Guild, need to be recorded in some ancient book of blood suckers?”
Reuben scowled and made a move towards Simeon. Joseph stopped him with a hand across his chest.
“Bring it,” Simeon snarled in response.
“Not worth it,” Reuben replied disinterestedly.
Joseph sighed and suddenly appeared very tired. “Firstly, so we can track if you break the agreement to secrecy. Although what Reuben wants to do with that information if you do break the agreement, I dread to think.”
“I’ll kill him,” Reuben said with a sniff before snarling with his fangs drawn. He stabbed a knife into the wooden desktop.
Simeon merely raised an eyebrow in dismissal. “You don’t scare me, vampire.” He laughed.
Reuben stood and leaned over the table and, in a movement so quick it blurred, he had Simeon pressed against the stone wall, Simeon’s legs dangling and Reuben’s hands around Simeon’s neck.
“Stop!” Joseph ordered. “For pity's sake, Reuben, sit down.”
Reuben tightened his hold momentarily and Simeon simply stared at him. His breathing was compromised, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to show it. Finally, Reuben released Simeon, then sat back down.
“You break your word, cat, I will find you in that instant, connected to the magic in this promise, and I will use my sword to split you in half.” He flicked a fang with his nail as if to emphasise the point.
Joseph continued immediately, as if Reuben hadn’t just threatened death and mayhem.
The Incubus Agenda #5
Nick Tarrant took a careful step back and leaned against the large oak chairs around the outside of the room. He had to be more in shadow and less in the middle of the heated discussion that already had one council member threatening to kill another. Newly elected, he finally had his place of the Werewolf Coalition but he wasn’t willing to put his neck out just yet to say what he thought. He had his own ideas that would remain hidden inside him until they needed to be turned into proper plans.
“This rebellion has to be stopped,” Cassius shouted over the noise of the arguing, which grew more violent and exponentially louder by the second. Cassius was the Head of the Vampire Clans Council and he was here, it seemed, to do nothing more than rile up the Wolf shifters and incite them to war. Given wolf shifters never did anything by halves and with the council split over the matter of Glitnir, Nick was waiting for his fellow wolves to shift and tear off into the forest looking for the rebellious Underground.
Only Niceros sat quietly to one side much as Nick did. His expression was guarded but Nick could swear there was the faint hint of a smile on his face. He was the big wolf in the Coalition now. Not only did he have twenty Retrievers under his control but he was cozied up to Cassius. Seeing the vampire and the werewolf together never failed to send shivers of apprehension down Nick’s spine.
“Glitnir has done nothing for us,” a new addition to the rank of Retrievers snarled. Nick couldn’t recall the shifter’s name, such was the turnover of Retrievers at the moment. Two other wolves pulled him to one side and proceeded to pummel him into the ground. Snarls and growls and sudden silence made Nick think that the Retrievers were going to be one short now. What the fuck was happening here? Everything was out of control.
“Does anyone else have anything to say?” Cassius shouted over the noise to make himself heard. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down from his height to the shorter wolves. Nick could see how this was going. Over half of the Coalition was behind this vampire, which put the vamps and the wolves squarely on the side of Glitnir in this crap. Not exactly the outcome that Nick was hoping for but he wasn’t saying a thing to the contrary of general opinion. His job was to stay quiet and get the intelligence he gathered to Joseph without getting caught, nothing more, nothing less. Silence fell over the room.
This closed Coalition meeting was anything but. Not only was Cassius here in his flowing black floor-length cloak that screamed pretentious, but Ludvik freaking Peitrol was outside in the ante room after asking for audience to talk. Nick couldn’t recall the last time that a vampire was allowed to address a full meeting of a werewolf council, but add in the fact Ludvik was fae and suddenly anything like tradition was being shot to pieces.
Not one wolf spoke up against Glitnir but a few looked at the prone body of the dead Retriever and the blood that pooled under his torn throat. It was so easy to kill these days, no one stopped a murder in the name of pushing down the rebellion.
“Then we’re agreed?” Niceros finally spoke up. Everyone in the room turned to him with expectation on their faces. He stood and Nick had to admit he looked every bit a big bad wolf. “Do we need to put this to a vote?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I put forward the motion that the Werewolf Coalition forms an alliance with the Vampire Clans Council and puts our support solidly behind the Fae and Glitnir.”
Silence.
Then each of the Retrievers that were left lifted their hands and as one each shifter in the room, even Nick, copied the gesture.
The Third Kingdom #6
Reuben stumbled over loose stones and wet grass in his hurry to get down into the space at the bottom of the incline. Methulan was here, standing in the centre of the destroyed space and waiting for him. Sudden doubts forced him to an abrupt halt when he reached level ground. Was this a trick? Some old magic that gave the illusion of the other half of his heart standing so lost and lonely in the very place of the last battle—the spot where Methulan died and Reuben lost his will to live?
“Methulan?” he called uncertainly. He hoped to hell Brody and Nick weren’t watching this epic uncertainty. They would surely think him one hell of a coward for not striding forward and damning the consequences.
The figure held out his hands. “Reuben,” he said.
That was Methulan’s voice, his beautiful face. The only thing that was different was his hair: long and white-blond, it framed his features. Reuben pushed aside his fear that this was all some kind of cruel revenge from a past foe. Someone like Lekland the Kappa—or Ludvik as he was known now—a creature bent on becoming a god in his own lifetime and not letting anyone stand in his way.
Reuben took a step forward, then another, faltering over discarded rocks, evidence of the battle that had once been fought on this sacred earth. Soon his walk grew into a steady run. Methulan moved towards him and suddenly he was right up to Methulan before he could think of any more reasons why this was a bad thing. He fell into Methulan’s arms, a cry of wonder passing his lips as Methulan embraced him and held him steady. For long minutes they held each other, and Reuben fought back the emotion that threatened to push him to his knees.
“Reuben,” Methulan was saying over and over. “Reuben. My love. I thought you were dead.” Methulan tightened his grip and Reuben grabbed at his jacket and held tight, the supple leather wrapping around his fingers. The feel of him, the scent of him, every part of Methulan was here. This was no apparition.
Methulan pulled away and Reuben could see the agony carved into the other man’s face. “Too long,” he murmured.
Reuben shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said. “You died. I saw you kill yourself because of me. I don’t…” He couldn’t think of the right words, let alone utter them in a coherent fashion. Instead he released his hold on the leather and cradled Methulan’s face. He stared directly into silver eyes, one flecked with blue, the other green. Then, before he could question anything, he kissed Methulan, at first a soft reconnection, then forcefully enough to have them both gasping for air. It was always like this, incendiary, instant, a passion so quick to ignite it burned them both. They kissed again, but this time Methulan gentled the taste and twisted his hands into Reuben’s long, unruly curls. Anchored this way they kissed for the longest time, with Reuben desperate for more.
They pulled apart at some unspoken agreement, and Reuben glanced at Methulan’s plump lips, swollen from their kisses. His lover hadn’t changed much apart from his hair, which used to be dark and thick and short. Other than that he hadn’t aged and there were no scars, so he looked as perfect as the very last minute before he died. His white-blond hair made a veil around his face and his beautiful eyes focused only on Reuben.
“Where are your friends?” Methulan asked softly.
Reuben cast a look up the side of the incline. “You knew I came with someone?”
Methulan nodded. “The incubus I sent to Joseph and the wolf I showed the name of this place to. I knew their curiosity would mean they’d accompany you, and I could see you.”
Reuben felt an irrational burst of temper. “You’ve been watching me,” he stated with heat. “How long? Where have you been? Why couldn’t I see you?”
Methulan gripped his hands tight—he looked broken, devastated, and so sad. “Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleaded.
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“I can’t help the connection we have, but it’s the only thing that kept me here for a thousand years.”
Methulan wasn’t answering the question at all. In fact he was being deliberately vague about everything.
“I saw you die,” Reuben repeated.
Writing MM Romance with a Happy Ever After...
I am in awe that people read my writing and thank you all for taking the time to read, rate and review. Rj xxxxx
About me...I live in the UK just outside London. I love reading anything from thrillers to sci-fi to horror; however, my first real love will always be the world of romance. My goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and more than a hint of happily ever after.
SMASHWORDS / EXTASY / ARe / AMAZON
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk
The Vampire Contract #1
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The Guilty Werewolf #2
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The Warlock's Secret #3
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The Demon's Blood #4
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The Incubus Agenda #5
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The Third Kingdom #6
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