Starr, Ellen - Wolf's Passion [The Joined] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (19 page)

“Oh yes, you want this. Shall I tame the beast?” Jean-Paul ran his fingernails down Dale’s chest to his belly.

“Yes,” Dale moaned.

“Ask me.” Jean-Paul’s fingers teased Dale’s cock.

Dale’s legs trembled. He fought to catch his breath. “Tame me. Please.”

“To tame the beast,” Jean-Paul gasped, “first we must free it.” Jean-Paul took him then, impaling himself on Dale’s erection. Dale thrust his hips, burying himself deeper.

“Yes,
cher
, let go.”

Dale growled. He strained against the bandana restraining him. The branch broke, and they tumbled to the ground locked together. Dale clawed and bit, reveled in the sharp pain of Jean-Paul’s nails digging into his ass. He snarled, pumping his hips hard, pounding into this man that dared to let him free.

He tried to bite, to hold this lover to him. A fist in his hair held him back. Dale grazed the skin and tasted blood. Jean-Paul cried out his orgasm, spilling between them. Dale threw back his head and howled.

Jean-Paul tightened his arms around Dale when he struggled to rise. “Rest. Breathe. You have not hurt me. I will not let you go.” Dale relaxed. He lay limp against Cora’s fiancé. Jean-Paul stroked Dale’s back, a soothing hypnotic movement that comforted, lulling Dale into a blissful trance. Something wonderful happened. Jean-Paul allowed the young Werewolf to see into his thoughts.

“I was going to ask the Vampires in Old Town to kill you. Wouldn’t have worked very well, would it?” Dale gave Jean-Paul one of his rare smiles.

Jean-Paul laughed. “No,
cher
, it would not.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Secrets Discovered

Cora pulled. A faint tearing sound broke the stillness. She pulled again. This time the sound was louder. She felt the tape give. Deep inside she knew her Pack was coming. Jean-Paul said he would join her in Dead Man. He would come. Wolf, Rafe, and Dale would come. She wasn’t about to let any of them find her meekly waiting to be rescued. Jean-Paul would never let her hear the end of it.

Her hands were free. Quickly, she ripped the heavy duct tape from her ankles then yanked the blindfold and gag off. She stood, willing her tingling feet to move.

The door was unlocked. Careful to make no noise, Cora peeked out into the hall. With no idea which way the exit was, she had a fifty-fifty chance of finding the way out. She wished Micah would show up. Maybe she could convince him she was no threat to whatever operation he had going.

Cora rounded yet another corner in the maze of hallways. She came face to face with one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. She spun around, running for her life.

“Hey,” he yelled. She heard him running down the hall after her. Then huge hands grabbed her. She was slung over the big man’s shoulder like a sack of flour. She struggled. He simply tightened his grip. She gave a frustrated little sob.

The giant carried her through the maze of hallways, finally heaving her off his shoulder onto the floor in front of Dolores. The room spun for a few seconds, and Cora struggled to sit up. Dolores smirked at her. The woman stood. She walked around Cora, examining her like she was some sort of curiosity the cat dragged in. “So tell me, has Wolf managed to get it up for you yet? Or is Rafe doing all his fucking for him?”

“What we do is none of your business.” Cora managed to climb to her feet. Dolores was a bit taller and chunkier, but Cora didn’t think it was muscle. Cora kept her eye on Dolores, turning to follow her as she circled.

“You show up in my domain and take what belongs to me and it’s not my business?” Her voice rose with each word.

“He wasn’t yours.” Cora saw the fist rise. She braced herself. She turned with the blow the way Jean-Paul had shown her. He’d be pleased she remembered that, she thought. Then Cora struck back with everything she had.
Fight to win, mon amour, fight dirty
. Jean-Paul’s words echoed in her head. He’d be pleased she remembered that, too. She grabbed a fistful of Dolores’s hair and tried to slam the woman’s head into the floor.

Cora managed a few solid blows before several sets of hands pulled her off the screaming woman. They pulled her away. Two of Dolores’s men helped her up. She shook them off, advancing on Cora. With an enraged scream, she swung. Cora felt blood trickle down her forehead.

“Take her back. And this time make sure she can’t get loose.” Dolores glared at her. She thought for a moment about calling Wolf, but some instinct stopped her. Dolores’s Pack had her lovers far outnumbered. It would be a slaughter. The men holding her started to drag her away.

“Wait.” Dolores stepped closer. She held a knife. Dolores caught hold of Cora’s hair and cut some off. “A little gift for Wolf. Be good and I’ll let you watch me mate him before I kill you.” Dolores’s laugh rang in Cora’s ears as they took her back to the room that was her prison.

* * * *

Jean-Paul put his arm around Dale’s waist as they walked back to the house together. His hair was still damp from their dip in the creek, and his body ached pleasantly. Dale gave him that shy smile again, slipping his arm around Jean-Paul’s waist.

“I need to check the horses.”

“Of course,
cher
.” Jean-Paul gave his new lover a gentle squeeze before he let Dale go. He watched Dale walk toward the barn, enjoying the sexy way the young Werewolf moved.
I want to use those spurs next time
. That thought made Jean-Paul shiver. His stomach growled at him, reminding him he needed to eat. He headed inside.

In the kitchen he found the bag with his things. He took out one of the plastic bags. He heard a noise in the doorway. Jean-Paul looked up from the bag of red liquid he held. Wolf stood in the doorway, eyes wide, face pale.
Damn
. He sighed. This would be awkward. Jean-Paul tilted his head to one side, waiting for the uproar he knew was coming.

“Oh gods, this can’t be happening.” Wolf ran a hand through his hair. The Werewolf looked away for a heartbeat then back at Jean-Paul.

A noise from the living room made Wolf turn. “Shit.”

Jean-Paul saw Rafe behind Wolf, concern on his face and something in his hand. “What’s wrong?” He looked from Wolf to Jean-Paul, his original mission to the kitchen put aside by his obvious concern for his Alpha.

“He’s a fucking
Vampire,
Rafe. Jean-Paul is one of those dead, bloodsucking
creatures of the night
from Old Town.”

“I am not dead, thank you.” Jean-Paul felt his irritation growing.

Rafe’s mouth fell open in shock. It was the first time Jean-Paul had seen the older Werewolf anything but self-possessed and calm. Jean-Paul noted with approval the expression didn’t last long.

“The council is going to hit the moon over this if they find out.” Wolf hit the doorjamb with his fist.

“Why should they find out? I am not proposing to become one of your Pack, much as Cora would wish that.” Jean-Paul did not see the problem. Their two species agreed to an Accord several centuries ago. It worked. They co-existed in many places in the world, including Dead Man, Texas. Jean-Paul bit into the packet he’d gotten from Doc and drank. The Werewolves stared at him for several seconds.

“Is Cora?” Wolf asked, fear coloring his voice.

“Cora has been with me since 1917. But to answer your indelicate question, no, she is not.” Jean-Paul let his words hang in the air for a long tense moment. “Yet.”

“Oh gods. She never mentioned anything, never even hinted...Wait, 1917?”

“Yes.” Jean-Paul gave Wolf an amused once over. “Is there a problem? You do not perhaps fancy older women?”

“Wolf, kid, calm down.” Rafe stared at Jean-Paul, unblinking. “There’s something we aren’t seeing here.”

“Calm down? He just said Cora is older than my grandmother.”

“Do we know everything about Vampires? Hell, we don’t even know everything about ourselves.”

Jean-Paul smiled. He gave Rafe a nod. He liked Rafe. The Beta was quick and smart. He’d get it eventually if Jean-Paul left him to think. But they didn’t have time for that. “Exactly,
cher
. You have hit on it. We share a special bond, Cora and I. She has taken blood from me. Although, Cora is not a Vampire. Obviously you have not been taught the history of our races. A sad failure on the part of your elders.”

“History? Cora never said anything about a history.”

“Because she does not know this. She only knows that I am a Vampire. She has not asked to be turned. I will not give her the gift unasked for. She has no need to know of these things.” Jean-Paul glared at the Werewolves. “But you do. I have little respect for the elders in this town.”

“I don’t understand.” Wolf shivered. Suddenly he looked stricken. “Oh shit, I fucked a dead—”

“I am not dead!” Jean-Paul roared. He visibly regained control of himself. “I am just as alive as you are. And just as alien to this world.” He smiled at their shocked looks. “Yes, the evil Vampire knows your history. Apparently better than you do yourselves.”

With fewer and fewer Werewolves reaching the age of transition, they had drifted apart. The Vampires vowed to leave Werewolves alone as much as possible and set up a small council of First Ones to help those who managed to reach change. Jean-Paul gave a mental sigh and began to explain. “Yes, history. We came to this world together aboard a colony ship. We did not mean to land here. Something went wrong and the ship crashed in what is now called France. Have you never wondered why the words you use for yourselves are French?” If it hadn't been so deplorable, Jean-Paul would have laughed.

He looked at the small Pack. They were obviously confused. He’d wager their precious council probably didn’t know all their common history either. He began to think a trip to Old Town and Doc’s colony might be in order. These pups needed education fast. A bright thought occurred to him. If they had no idea how closely related they were to Vampires, then there was an excellent chance Dolores and her Pack did not know either. The Mexican Pack was a wildcard. He couldn’t be sure what the Mexicans knew, but he would deal with that as it came. Jean-Paul looked forward to educating these three on the order of things. Especially with the attitude Wolf had shown concerning Vampires. He chuckled. Telling them they were a larval stage of their species that would become Vampires if they lived long enough was going to be fun in an evil sort of way.

“I believe we need to speak to some friends of mine about your woeful lack of knowledge before we go take care of these upstarts of Dolores’s. Shall we?” Jean-Paul tossed the empty blood pack into the trash. He motioned to the door.

They stared at him without moving. Jean-Paul clapped his hands. They jumped. “
Now
, my friends. We do not have time to waste.”

The kitchen door opened. They all turned to see a puzzled Dale staring at them. Jean-Paul rolled his eyes. “And you told me not to fuck him stupid. He is the only one of you not freaked out.”

“What am I not freaked out about?” Dale asked warily.

“Me,
cher
. What I am.” Jean-Paul shook his head and stepped past Wolf and Rafe.

“Why would I—”

“Because he’s one of the walking dead.” Wolf waved at Jean-Paul as he passed by.

“
Merde
. You are thick-headed. Trust me,
cher
, you do not want to meet one of the real walking dead.” Jean-Paul thumped Wolf on the back of the head. “We do not have time for this.”

“No, we don’t. Dolores just sent us another warning.” Rafe held out a note. They all recognized the bloodstained lock of pale blond hair taped to it.