His Lion Blood Read online

  She held out a gold card between two long white fingers with nails painted the color of blood. “It’s on Daddy,” she said. “He’s going to love the new body art.”

  “Really?” Ashton asked, skeptical. She sounded like a human trust fund brat. How he loved spoiled human trust fund brats.

  “Oh yes, Don Santiago Cortez Amador, High Lord of the Cascade coven, loves body art. Loves it.” She smiled broadly, showing her pearly white teeth.

  Spoiled trust fund brat. To. A. T. That type loved to upset Daddy. Ashton looked her up and down. Oh how he’d like to oblige. Too bad trust fund girl was a vampire. As fun as the spoiled rich girl might be, vampires were not on his to do list. Nope. Not even sexy little vixen Isabella.

  He slid her card through the reader, and it was instantly approved. “Pleasure doing business with you, Isabella,” he said, handing her the receipt to sign. She signed it with a flourish and looked him deep in the eye as she handed it back.

  “I’m quite interested in the business of pleasure, kitty cat,” she said before turning to go.

  Chapter Four

  Isabella left the tattoo shop, her back stinging slightly from six-hour ordeal. She pulled her leather jacket on and straddled her bike. Gripping the handlebars, she gazed through the shop window and caught Ashton’s eyes. He looked back at her, and their eyes locked for long moments.

  She could hear his heart pounding, smell his arousal mounting, feel his fear and longing at the sight of her. When she’d shown him her breasts, she’d thought he’d come undone, but the coy cat just went back to business as usual.

  She knew she had him cornered. Right where she wanted him. This game of cat and mouse was in effect. Just who was the mouse and who was the cat was still anyone’s guess. Isabella had her own hunger, just like the lion, and the smell of his blood made her tingle with desire.

  Her pussy wept for him the entire time he pressed his sharp needle into her skin. She revved her motor, and their gaze broke. He turned away first. Damn him. This shifter had a stronger constitution than she’d expected. Far more than a human and even some vampires. Most men couldn’t resist her once she set her sights on them.

  The shifter obviously wanted her. That much was clear, but his resistance to her vampiric charms frustrated her. He should have had her bent over the tattoo counter for all the pheromones she was pumping into the air.

  Isabella pouted and peeled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She had a surprise for Daddy. The prodigal daughter had returned, and she intended to make his life as much of a hell as hers had always been. She hadn’t been asked to be born. She hadn’t asked to be a halfling bastard with a human mother.

  She gritted her teeth as she sped up the coast and turned onto the smooth drive that led to her father’s estate. Manicured hedges lined the way, and she passed through the iron gates with her father’s family crest emblazoned above.

  The house came into view. It wasn’t a house so much as a mansion, built in a Gothic style hundreds of years before. One of the oldest buildings in the state, the mansion was a monument. It rose four stories above her, with gilded turrets and parapets.

  She saw a curtain drop closed, high above on the third floor. Her father’s study. She parked her motorcycle. The butler, Jensen, a sniveling vampire who did her father’s bidding, hurried down the stairs, his eyes covered in dark sunglasses.

  “Madam, your father has been waiting for you all afternoon. Please come this way,” he said in a grasping voice.

  She rolled her eyes and followed the little man. Unlike full-blooded vampires, Isabella could go without sun protection. She thought it an advantage. Too bad no one else did.

  Inside the cool shadows of the house, she heard her father’s footsteps echo down the stairs. She looked up and saw him on the second floor balcony above the great front hall. Massive paintings of her ancestors covered the walls. It was all so drab and boring. If her father had his way, he’d keep her locked up here forever.

  “Yes?” she asked, looking up at her father with a beguiling grin.

  “Isabella, there is someone here I want you to meet,” Santiago said, his voice smooth as silk. Her father’s handsome pale face as beautiful and young as it had been for a thousand years. His shoulder-length black curls shimmered around his angular features.

  A second man stepped out from the shadows above her and came into the dim light of the crystal chandelier that hung from the twenty-foot ceiling. He was handsome, beautiful in a way only a vampire could be. His marble skin glowed white with the inner fire of her race.

  His cool black eyes shone down on her, his chiseled, masculine face a mask, his desires hidden. She raised an eyebrow at the new comer and pursed her lips.

  “Hi,” she said with a curt little wave. The men walked down the stairs toward her as she stood by the intricately carved banister. She leaned against it, watching them walk toward her with effortless grace.

  “This is Don Domingo Balcazar,” her father said, introducing his friend. Domingo smiled, showing his gleaming, sharp white teeth.

  “Wazzup,” she said, playing it cool She knew what was coming. She could feel it. Daddy wanted to pawn off his halfling bastard on some vampire aristocrat. She wasn’t game.

  “Come, Isabella, let us sit by the fire. Jensen will bring us a bottle of our finest vintage.” Santiago moved as if on the air. They entered the sitting room, which was draped in gold and red and the finest furnishings in Louis XIV style.

  She took a seat by the fireplace and soaked in the warmth. The bike ride home had been cool and damp. Not that she minded the weather all that much, but a nice blazing fire felt good on her cold flesh.

  Santiago and Domingo sat opposite her, both of them eyeing her like a prized cow. Jensen brought the wine, and they all sipped from gold-plated, crystal goblets. Isabella set her glass beside her on an end table and peeled off her leather jacket. She turned sharply to lay the jacket over the back of her chair, her new ink visible on her back.

  When she faced them, her father’s eyes were wide with anger. Domingo stared at her pert breasts that were unencumbered by a bra. She smirked at both their reactions. With the power firmly back in her court, she leaned back and crossed her legs, taking another sip of wine.

  “I’ve wanted you to meet Domingo for some time, Isabella,” Santiago started, regaining his composure. “He is my second-in-command in the coven. It would be advantageous for you two to bond.”

  “Advantageous for us to bond? What does that mean?” she said, gripping her glass.

  “You are not a child anymore Isabella, and you are my only blood heir. You have responsibilities to the coven. It is time you start living up to your own name.”

  “I never asked for this,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Domingo. Why did these people always do what her father wanted? Vampires could be so sniveling and grasping. She rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine.

  “Regardless if you asked for it or not, darling, you’ve got it. You are the daughter of the High Lord of the Cascade coven. You have to take your position. There are vampires half your age with far greater responsibility than you. Here you are, a hundred years old and acting like you were just turned.”

  “Well, father, as you know, I was never turned. I was born. I’m not one of your creations. I’m your daughter, and I’m half human.”

  “Be that as it may, daughter, you will marry Domingo and have his child. It is your duty to take your place in the coven. Refusal will meet with a swift punishment. Believe me, child, you don’t want to cross me. I’ve been far too lenient with you for too long.”

  “Fine, I’ll think about it,” she said with a sigh, rising. She started toward the door when her father grabbed her arm.

  “This isn’t a game, Isabella. This is about the future of our coven. I don’t take these things lightly. You will fulfill your role, or you will be no more. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. I get it,” she said, pulling away. Anxiety strained her face
as she regarded her father. Turning away, she hurried out of the room.

  Chapter Five

  Ashton closed up shop and headed home. He found his brother and his recently turned wife snuggling on the couch in front of the TV. He wished to God Ronan had stayed in the woods. It was nice to have his bro around again, but he’d insisted on taking over their parents’ house and moving in his new wife. Makayla was all right, but Ashton had grown used to having the big Victorian house to himself.

  Now they were around night and day. Makayla ran her start up magazine from the house and Ronan constantly brought his kills in from the forest and butchered them in the backyard. It was disgusting.

  Ashton went hunting now and again like most shifters in Mystic Harbor, but Ronan took the whole predator thing to a new level. It was like he couldn’t go a day without killing something.

  Ashton shut the front door, a bit too loudly, and stomped to the kitchen. Makayla had hired a maid service, and the place was utterly spotless all the damn time now. He pulled a beer from the immaculate fridge and went to sit in the living room.

  The happy couple looked up at him like he was intruding in his own home. Sure it had been his and Ronan’s family home, sure Ronan technically owned the place, but still. Rude.

  “Just got off work,” he grunted and leaned back in the recliner. He lived here; they could just deal. He looked at the TV screen. Chick flick. Great. He rolled his eyes and took a long drag of beer. “Is this your new taste in movies, Ronan?” he teased.

  His older brother growled at him, showing his sharp teeth. “After a decade in the woods, anything is entertainment. Makayla likes it. Shut up or go away.”

  Makayla giggled and snuggled deeper into Ronan’s shoulder. “Have fun,” Ashton said, standing. He could deal with a chick flick, if he had a chick of his own. But Ronan and Makayla were seriously vomit-inducing sometimes. This was one of those moments.

  He hurried upstairs to his room and drank the rest of his beer. There was no way he would spend an entire Friday night cooped up in his room. He threw on a clean shirt, washed his face and went back downstairs. As he left the house, Ronan and Makayla didn’t even look up from their movie.

  They probably wanted him to move out. He wanted to move out, too. But with rent on the shop and all his expenses, it was hard to afford a decent place of his own. Plus, he’d been living there his whole life. Why should he have to move out just because Ronan decided to come back in from the woods?

  Ashton climbed on his motorcycle and started up the coast. He needed to clear his head. After he’d driven twenty miles or so, he parked at a turn out that over looked the ocean. The big moon was nearly full, and it filled his blood with lust. He grinned in the moonlight, watching the waves crash on the shore below.

  The sound of a motor tore him out of his reverie, and he turned to see a motorcycle coming to a stop beside him in the turn out. She pulled her helmet off, and her black hair whirled around her face in long tendrils.

  “Want to race?” she asked, grinning wildly.

  “Heck yes,” he said. Before he could pull his helmet back on and mount his bike, the woman was off on the highway. He cursed under his breath as he tried to catch her. She slowed down and looked at him with a challenging smile before she opened her throttled and burst forward again. Ashton kicked it into high gear and zoomed after her. They sped along winding, narrow coastal highway. One pulled ahead, and then the other.

  Late as it was, few cars were on the road, but as Isabella was trying to pull ahead of Ashton again, a semi came barreling down the opposite side of the highway. He hit the brakes, but Isabella sped ahead, charging in front of him in one swift motion. His heart leapt into his throat as the truck barreled passed, blaring its horn.

  He caught up with her, and they rode side-by-side in their lane. He could hear her laughing gleefully. She looked over at him, her caramel-colored eyes wild with danger. He balked slightly. This chick was nuts. His cock twitched, and he growled.

  Isabella sped into the parking lot of the local bar and cut her motor. Ashton parked next to her and slid from his bike, his mind still reeling from the near miss with the truck.

  “Were you trying to get yourself killed?” he asked her, holding his helmet tightly in his hand. Ashton liked to push the limit as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t a fan of seeing beautiful women flattened on the highway.

  “I’m half vampire, darling. Nothing as trite as a car accident could kill me.”

  She had a point, but still. It had scared him half to death. The last thing he wanted was for her to be injured or killed. Why? He had no idea, but this inner lion wouldn’t stop roaring to protect the danger-hungry little halfling.

  “Come on,” she said, moving into the bar.

  He entered the bar behind her and saw a pack of his wolf shifter buddies playing pool. Ronan hated wolves, but Ashton thought they were all right. They never bothered him. Shifter intermingling had become a lot more common in Mystic Harbor in the last ten years. Times had changed.

  Isabella disappeared into the shadows so Ashton went to the bar and ordered a pint before going to join his bros at the pool table. He slapped hands and bumped fists with his buddies as they greeted one another. Ashton stood watching and drinking his beer as his friends competed.

  As he was drinking his last swig of beer, he saw Isabella––petite and curvy with a back covered in his ink. His inner lion growled. She looked even more delectable than ever.

  She stared him down as she passed, her lips thick with deep red lipstick. He wanted to lick her face until it was smeared across her pale skin while he drove his cock inside her over and over again.

  Crap. Where did that come from? That woman was trouble. TROUBLE. If shifter inter-relationships had once been strained in Mystic Harbor, interaction with vampires had always been strained. Strained wasn’t even the right word. More like strangled, stabbed, and mutilated.

  He tore his eyes away from her sexy little form and focused on the game. One of the wolves gave a muffled howl, and they all began to laugh.

  “Who is that fine piece of ass?” the wolf said.

  Ashton narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t like him talking about her like that, even though he was thinking the same thing. “She’s a halfling vampire. Her father is Santiago Amador. I’d keep away if you want to keep your dick.”

  The wolf pack burst into laughter. Ashton had gone to school with these dudes, but none of them were the alpha of the pack. They were all troublemakers and would get involved with a vampire just for the thrill of it.

  Ashton hissed below his breath and went back to the bar for a second drink. Isabella was there, nursing a glass of red wine. She looked up at him, her caramel eyes alight with vampiric power.

  “Where did you go?” he asked as the bartender set another pint in front of him.

  “To freshen up in the lady’s room. Come here often?” she said with a smirk.

  “Yeah. This is the only place to get booze after midnight around here, unless you want to drive a hundred miles up the coast for a shot of tequila.”

  “Shots of tequila. What a good idea,” she said. She rapped her knuckles on the bar and yelled at the bartender. “Two shots of tequila, por favor.”

  Chapter Six

  Ten shots later, Isabella was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol swimming around her brain. As a halfling, she didn’t have the constitution of a full blood. She could get drunk. She’d have to drink about two bottles of this stuff to get as drunk as a human would on ten shots, but she still felt pretty loose.

  She could tell Ashton was also feeling it. His pool game all but forgotten, they’d settled into a game of drinking and teasing at the bar. His wolf friends hooted at him and slapped him on the back for his luck, but Ashton shooed them away. Maybe he thought this night was going to go a different direction that she intended it to go.

  She intended to get a good, long, shifter cock inside her wet pussy tonight, and she intended to sink her
teeth deep in his neck and taste his sweet, shifter blood.

  “Come on,” she said, taking his hand. She led him out of the bar as the howls of his friends faded in the background. He growled and turned her around. His physical strength was far greater than hers. He pressed her against a parked pickup truck and stared her down. His blue eyes glowed in the dim light.

  She gazed up at him coyly, pretending to be innocent. He pinned her down and kissed her hard. Isabella gave a satisfied sigh as his lips met hers. He was so warm, so virile, so big and hard against her belly. Oh yum. This was going to be good.

  He purred deep in his throat as his tongue darted between her lips. Big hands roved over her curves, gliding over her hips and cupping her breasts. She still wore no bra under the tank she’d been wearing all day. Ashton groaned when he felt her soft flesh under his hand. He squeezed once and then slipped his warm hand under her shirt.

  He grabbed her breasts, one after the other, his tongue dancing inside her mouth, thrusting deeper each time. Her nipples tightened like iron divots at his insistent touch. Her body gushed and dampened her panties through and through. Ashton’s hands worked over her body, and he gripped her between the legs. Isabella gasped against his mouth and then let out a low moan.

  “Come with me,” he growled, fire in his blue eyes.

  He took her by the hand and led her down the dark parking lot to where the pavement turned to sand. Below, the waves crashed against the shore, and the wind howled softly under the pale moonlight. He began to run, and she followed him, gasping and giggling as they sprinted through the dry sand. They sank behind a pile of driftwood, hidden from the bar. She came down on her ass with a start, but Ashton was on her before she could catch her breath. He pushed her down against the cool, dry sand, his hands on the waist of her pants. He pulled them down around her knees and pushed up her shirt. One hand cupped her pussy while his hot mouth sucked her nipple.

  His teeth nibbled at her breast, making her pussy gush, wetter and wetter on his hand. His hard, dexterous fingers, the fingers of an artist, pushed between her slick folds. He tapped her clit and rubbed. Isabella gripped his shoulders and threw her head back in the sand. This shifter was all man. He overwhelmed her in a way she hadn’t expected.