The bulge quickly upgraded to steel. “You may have to fight.”
She grinned, and the megawatt heat that smile put out nearly sent Phane to his knees. “Nothing I enjoy more than a good dirty fight.”
“You mean a good clean fight,” Phane corrected.
“No. That’s not what I mean.” With one last look in his direction, she turned back to the crowd.
“We appreciate the warning,” Wen said to them all. “If they come we’ll deal with them.”
“You’re sure?” Petra asked the older female. “I don’t want to bring a problem here—”
“They’re bringing the problem, my Pets,” said the older female.
Petra turned then, her gaze resting on Dillon. “If you must tell them something, tell them the truth. A vampire balas needs his father’s blood to survive. Let’s see if they truly value the Eternal Breed or not.”
Just two hours until sundown.
Two hours until he was back in New York. Where he belonged. Where Cruen’s body would soon find shelter, pain, suffering, misery . . . then death, if he was a model prisoner.
Synjon continued to wear out the floorboards in the large, lightless cabin bedroom. The pussy brothers sat in the direct sunlight at a table in the living area just ten feet away, playing cards. Every so often, they’d glance his way and remind him they didn’t appreciate having to babysit his deadbeat vampire ass.
They were really getting on his nerves.
Before he flashed to the penthouse, he was going to flash directly in front of the pussy brothers and do some facial rearranging.
“Huffing and puffing in there, bloodsucker?” Sasha called, amusement lacing his tone. “I thought you didn’t have emotions.”
“I think he’s been faking it,” Valentin said.
“Bet he’s learned how to do that from all the women he’s conned into his bed.”
Synjon nearly rolled his eyes. These two were truly the feline equivalent of human teenage boys. And clearly Sasha was the instigator. The male would be first in line for the fangdown at sunset tonight.
“When is Petra returning?” Syn asked as he passed the open bedroom door. “She’s been gone a bloody long time.”
“Miss her, do you?” Sasha said with a chuckle.
“Sure,” Syn returned evenly. “Or it could be that I grow weary in the company of grown children.”
“I think he just insulted us,” Valentin said with mock injury.
“Hard to tell with that accent,” replied Sasha. “Listen, bloodsucker, Petra’ll be back when she’s hungry.” He laughed. “I like that.”
“Still can’t believe our little sister’s a vampire,” Val said, his tone now slightly melancholy.
“Makes sense, though, doesn’t it? Those games we used to play. She never attacked like an animal. And during snack time she always wrinkled her nose at our raw meat cakes and criticized us for our less than perfect table manners.”
“She still does that,” Val said. “But, shit, brother, I refuse to use a knife and fork. I was given canines for a reason.”
“I hear that.”
Synjon stopped pacing. “Perhaps you blokes can reminisce outside.”
Sasha tipped his chair back so he could see Syn. “Not sure we’re ready to risk that.”
“Sun still shining, eh?”
“Hard and hot.”
“Then I’m not going anywhere, am I?” Syn said before continuing his pacing.
Val pressed his chair back too. “Doesn’t matter, bloodsucker. Sun, moon, dusk. We’re going to make sure you stay here until our sister is done with you.”
“That’s right,” Sasha piped up. “Don’t wanna have to make the trip back into frozen New York City to pick up your pale ass again.”
It was truly his grand shame. The pussy brothers catching him off guard, knocking him out, dragging him here. He’d have to make sure that didn’t get out, in the spy community, the military, or his home credenti. “How did you manage it?” Syn asked. “I’m curious.”
“What? Breaking in your place and stealing you?” Val grinned. “Dani’s such a pisser.”
“Forget Dani,” Sasha remarked. “It was our skill and incredible brute strength.”
Synjon’s nostrils flared at their idiocy. “What drug did you use to get me to this hovel? That’s all I want to know.”
Both chairs dropped back into place with a crash, and Synjon couldn’t see them anymore. “Did he just call the playhouse that you and me and Dad built with our bare paws a hovel, Val?”
“I believe he did.”
Sasha growled softly. “If his blood wasn’t needed inside our sister, I might have to spread it around the hovel right now.”
“Please don’t make any messes, boys,” Petra said, walking through the front door. “I spent way too many years picking up after the two of you.”
“Thank Christ you’re back,” Synjon said, coming to stand in the bedroom doorway. “The pussy brothers here are trying out material for their comedy act. So far I’d say it’s a glorious fail.”
For one brief moment, Syn was sure her lips twitched with amusement. It reminded him of her smile. The happy one, the well-pleasured one. He saw it on the lids of his eyes when they were closed. That particular smile made her eyes light up, and glow with blue fire.
She eyed her brothers. “You can go.”
Sasha raised a blond brow. “You sure?”
“He’s not going anywhere. Sun’s still high.”
“All righty.” Sasha kicked the chair back and stood.
Val too. “So, what happened? With the meeting?”
“Mom will tell you,” she said, her voice softer than before. “She’s back at the house.” She tilted her chin in the direction of the door. “Go.”
“Fine.” Val walked past her.
But Sasha hesitated in the hall, his eyes on Syn. “We’ll be back in two hours.”
“Lovely,” Synjon said overpolitely. “Can’t wait.”
There were grumblings of irritated comebacks, but Petra managed to shuffle her brothers out the front door. When she returned, Synjon was leaning against the doorframe, his back to the dark bedroom.
“You were gone a long time.”
She shrugged. “There was a lot to discuss.”
“Like . . .”
“Dillon was there.”
“The Order.” Interesting. And quite possibly problematic.
Her eyes turned a crystal blue as she walked toward him. She licked her lips. “She and Gray and the Roman brothers’ mates and even a few of the mutore wanted to make sure you were being well treated.”
Even in jeans and a tank, she was unbelievably sexy. Or maybe it was because of the jeans and the tank. He tried to keep his gaze off her belly. It bothered him that her swell intensified his desire for her.
“And what did you tell them?” he asked.
She stopped just a few inches from the doorway and inhaled rather obviously. “That I was doing my level best to locate and drain every bit of shitty attitude from your person.”
He grinned. Couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t just her swell that was making his cock twitch. It was her voice too, her attitude, the hunger in her expression. Bloody hell, he might not have emotions, but his body was on fire and ready to go.
All she had to do was say the word.
“I’m surprised they didn’t want to see me,” he said.
“They did.”
“And you . . .”
“Told them no.” She leaned in then, breathed in, and ran her nose along the ridge of his collarbone.
What the hell? Synjon’s hands fisted around the doorframe. Do that again, little veana, and the next time you take my blood I’ll be taking your cunt.