Gypsy: Sons of Sangue Read online

  Ryder groaned, wobbled on the stool a moment, then thumped his head a few times on the bar. “Making it fucking stop.”

  Grayson patted his friend on the shoulder. “You aren’t quite ready, bro. A few more hours and the pain will all be history.”

  He looked up. Grayson saw his reflection in Ryder’s glassy black eyes. “Ready for what?”

  “To feed.”

  Ryder looked ready to hurl. “I’m not drinking fucking blood, man.”

  Grayson chuckled. “I think your fangs say otherwise, dude.”

  Ryder ran his tongue across the razor sharp points, bringing a little blood pooling to the surface. “Damn it.”

  He gave Ryder a wink. “You’ll get used to it. Trust me, one taste of human blood and it’s like sex, you’ll be wanting more. In fact, you may desire it more than sex at times.”

  “Doubtful.” Ryder ran a hand through his unruly hair, looking half crazed. He briefly glanced at Anton and Tamera, who couldn’t seem to keep their fucking hands off one another. “What’s up with those two anyway? I thought just this morning you were getting a piece of her. Or is she like the club pass around?”

  “She’s not a pass around.” Grayson tipped back the bottle of Jack and finished it off to keep from taking Ryder’s head for even proposing as much. He tossed the empty, with a thud, into the basket at the edge of the bar. “She’s now Blondy’s mate. Things can change rather quickly around here.”

  The door opened, keeping Grayson’s rising ire under control. After all, Ryder’s assumption wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have thought himself had he been a witness to the debacle. He had, just that morning, tried to slide between Tamera’s legs, only to be turned down. Now she was with Anton. Talk about a quick turnabout.

  Kane followed his mate through the door. “Where’s my nephew?” he all but bellowed.

  Cara didn’t bother stopping to ask where the happy couple was. Rather she bypassed the rest of them and headed straight for Kaleb’s room.

  Knocking on the door, she said, “You two better be decent because I’m coming in.”

  True to word, not waiting for the invite, she turned the knob, and waltzed right into the bedroom as if she owned the place, leaving Kane chuckling. The large vamp shook his head and approached the bar.

  “Try stopping a woman on a mission. Any problems with the birth?”

  Grayson shook his head.

  “Good.” He looked briefly at Ryder. “How’s he doing?”

  “How the fuck do I look, man?” Ryder rolled his neck, the sound of the cracking vertebrae reverberating through the room. “My head feels like it’s been split with a sledge hammer.”

  “Unfortunately, you’ll live. Lucky for you, Grayson took pity or you would’ve died out there.” Kane glared at Ryder, obviously unhappy with the disregard of respect. He glanced back at Grayson, a jerk of his head indicating the new prospect. “You take care of that.”

  “He’s in pain, Viper.”

  Kane nodded. “The only reason I’ll excuse it.”

  Regardless as to whether Kane was no longer club P, the club still revered him. If Kane spoke with Kaleb about Ryder’s lack of respect, disciplinary action would be handed down. And if they decided to end his life before the change completed, then there wouldn’t be a damn thing Grayson could do about it. He’d need to speak to Ryder and make sure the man understood his role. He was no longer a full-fledged member of an MC. He was a prospect. If the club said jump, then he jumped.

  “Seems his change has progressed rapidly,” Kane noted. “Most times it takes up to three days.”

  “Only a day and a half so far.” Grayson glanced at Ryder. His skin was already taking on the translucent death chill. Yeah, he’d need to get him human blood and soon. “Maybe because he was damn near drained of his own blood. He ingested a good deal of mine.”

  Ryder looked ready to hurl at the mention.

  “Could be. Hawk?” Kane pulled another bottle of Jack from the cabinet behind the bar, along with a couple of glasses. “Get your ass out here and have a drink with your brothers. We have a cause for celebration.”

  “Lord, can’t anyone get any rest around here.” Kaleb exited his room and joined them at the bar. “Too damn many women in my room anyway.”

  “There are only two of them,” Kane pointed out.

  “And that’s one too many.”

  “You can rest when you’re dead.” Kane poured them each a glass. Looking at the empty glass, Grayson thought Kane meant one for Ryder. As he began filling the remaining glass, he said, “What the fuck is Blondy doing with your mate?”

  Grayson looked at his ex-friend and mate. “I made my decision.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s not up for discussion. Let’s toast to the new baby so I can get the fuck out of here. Ryder’s going to need to feed.”

  Kane stared at him. Grayson had no idea what was going through the big guy’s mind. Using his head to indicate Anton, Kane asked. “You okay with him joining the toast?”

  Grayson had thrown Tamera out. Anton was not the one at fault. Denying him a place around the bar and celebrating in Kaleb’s good fortune with the rest of the Sons would have been bad form. Grayson swallowed the jealousy sluicing through him and nodded, though it pained him to do so.

  Kane set the bottle on the bar. “Blondy, get your sorry ass over here. You’ll have time for your woman later. She can join Cara and Suzi.”

  Grayson tried not to let the “your woman” burn his ass, but it did.

  Blondy stood, kissed Tamera lightly on the lips, then patted her on the backside just before she headed for Kaleb’s room. Reaching the bedroom, she turned, her gaze landing on Grayson. He grit his teeth, tamped down the green-eyed monster taking up residence since spotting the two, and raised his tumbler of whiskey in the air.

  “Salute.”

  All but Ryder held up their glasses and repeated Grayson’s toast, then tossed back the contents of the glass. Running a hand down his bearded jaw, he thought about Tamera’s parting glance. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear her green gaze was filled with regret. Grayson needed to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid like going after her.

  He slapped Kaleb on the shoulder. “Good going, P. You have a beautiful baby. But if you don’t mind, I have a vamp in serious need of communion. That”—he leveled his gaze on Anton—“and I think I’ve gone long enough without a piece of ass. Time to break my dry spell.”

  “You think it’s wise to allow him on a bike in his condition?” Anton asked. “We can call Draven—”

  Oh, hell no. Grayson needed to put much needed space between Tamera, Anton and him. “I’ll take the crash truck.”

  “When’s the last time you drove the truck?”

  “Why the hell do you care, Blondy?” Grayson’s agitation surfaced. “You worry about your little mate and your own damn business. You got what the fuck you wanted. I’ll take care of my own life.”

  Grayson grabbed the sunglasses from the top of his head and shoved them on his face. He took one last look at Anton, then headed for the door and grabbed the truck keys. Without looking back, he asked, “You coming, Ryder?” then stormed from the clubhouse.

  It was high time he got laid.

  * * *

  Ryder leaned against the bar at the Rave, his forearm bracing him from hitting the floor. His change had finalized, his vampire features discernible. No hiding his animalistic nature from the ravers. Grayson would have to get the prospect upstairs and away from those who weren’t in the know. He motioned for the club’s regular bartender. The man put down his rag and approached Grayson.

  “What can I do for you, Gypsy?”

  “Draven here?”

  He shook his bald head. “Left about an hour ago. Said he’d be back but didn’t know when. Anything I can get you?”

  “He’s going to need a donor.” Grayson used his thumb to indicate Ryder, then walked around the bar and grabbed a full bottle Single
Barrel Jack Daniels from the top shelf. “I’ll take him upstairs. Send a donor up. While you’re at it, find me a cute little blonde one as well.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Grayson reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of bills. Peeling off a fifty, he laid it on the counter for payment of the booze. Gripping Ryder by the biceps, he led his friend to the curtained doorway and up the stairs. Ryder stumbled a couple of times, and had it not been for Grayson’s hold, he probably would have tumbled down them. They reached the small landing just before the closed door. The stairwell was encased in total darkness, though Ryder would have no trouble seeing. Grayson turned the knob, opened the door, and ushered Ryder into the elaborately decorated room. The door had been left ajar for the donors. He set the bottle on the glass and chrome bar cart beside the rocks glasses, then uncorked the whiskey.

  “You want a drink?”

  Ryder shook his head, looking as if he was about to hurl.

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  “Don’t make me do this, Gypsy.” Ryder sat heavily onto the Italian leather sofa, leaning his head against the supple material. “I’ve seen some awful shit in my life. But drinking blood? No way. I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Trust me, Ryder. One scent and you won’t be able to help yourself.” He poured himself two fingers of Jack, then tipped back the amber liquid, feeling the warmth clear to his gut. He wiped the back of his hand across the whiskers surrounding his lips. “I’ll teach you how. You’ll be a pro in no time.”

  “I don’t want to be a pro.” He scrubbed his face with his hands before leveling his gaze on Grayson. “Any way you slice it, it’s wrong.”

  Grayson chuckled. “You aren’t killing them, bro. And the women are more than willing. Trust me on this. They’ll line up to get a chance to offer one of the Sons their neck.”

  “What the fuck?” Ryder shook his head, disgust evident in his black gaze. “Why the hell would they do that?”

  “Because for one, the donors all consider it an honor to feed us.” Grayson’s smile widened as he poured another glass of whiskey. “For another, they hope to get laid.”

  “By a vampire?”

  He held up the glass in a salute. “Trust me, dude, one taste of your magic penis and they’ll be knocking on your door.”

  “Are you for fucking real? Magic penis?”

  Grayson laughed. “Okay, maybe I won’t go that far. But, drinking blood—we call it communion—is a very sexual experience for both parties. The donors can’t help but get a female boner.”

  A soft knock sounded on the open door, just before two women entered the room. Both wore the vial of blood dangling from the leather cord, signifying them as donors. The tiny blonde wasted little time as she sauntered over to Grayson. She couldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet and barely stood over five foot. The exact opposite of his… Lord, he’d need to quit thinking of her in those terms. The small blonde was the antithesis of Tamera. She placed her hand in the center of Grayson’s T-shirt, running her hand south before he caught her wrist.

  Grayson looked at Ryder and grinned. “I rest my case.”

  Ryder groaned. The dark skinned woman called India, whom Grayson had seen at the clubhouse the day before, walked over to sofa and knelt between Ryder’s spread knees. She tilted her head to the side, tucking her straight black hair behind one ear. Grayson didn’t think she had fed anyone at the clubhouse, so she’d have no problem feeding Ryder. Vampires only fed off donors every third day, to keep them from becoming anemic. Just like having safe sex in the human world, the vampires made sure to practice safe feeding. They wouldn’t want to endanger their source of food.

  India was stunning compared to the cute blonde now wrapping herself around his waist. The woman had exotic eyes with an upward slant. A petite nose curved slightly upward, centered above perfectly shaped bow lips, colored a rich brown. Red streaks accented her straight, shiny, black mane. Damn, she was a stunner. Grayson couldn’t help wonder why he had never seen her before yesterday. He wouldn’t have minded sampling a bit of that. Ryder’s lips pealed back from his razor sharp fangs as the alluring woman settled between his legs, hands upon his knees.

  Grayson wrapped an arm around the blonde, if for nothing else than to distract her from groping him. Since when had that become a problem? He shook off the notion. Picking up his newly filled glass, he waltzed over to the sofa where he seated the tiny little blonde donor on the edge. After disentangling himself, he approached Ryder, who looked ready to bolt.

  “You can do this, Ryder.” He sifted his fingers through India’s black silky hair, fisting a handful to better angle her head for Ryder. “Let those fangs do the work, bro. Lean forward and sink them about an inch beneath her ear. Once you do, instinct will take over and you’ll automatically know what to do.”

  For a minute, he thought Ryder meant to deny his thirst, and who he’d become. Grayson couldn’t force him to feed, even if it meant Ryder would eventually waste away from starvation. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Instead of bolting, though, Ryder leaned forward and did as Grayson instructed. The soft pop of the breaking skin filled the air followed by India’s moan, her hands tightening on his knees. Credit to the beautiful woman, she stayed put and didn’t try to take advantage of the rising desire Grayson scented on her.

  She allowed Ryder to drink his fill, asking for nothing in return. Grayson glanced at the donor sent for him. Her smile brightened, just before she winked at him. Damn. He’d picked the wrong fucking donor. His seemed more than willing to get down and dirty.

  Hadn’t he come to the Rave with the desire to get laid?

  He cursed beneath his breath. He needed to get his head checked. Placing a hand on Ryder’s shoulder, he said, “That’s enough. We only take what we need. Nothing more.”

  Ryder withdrew his fangs and released India, a trickle of blood running down his pale chin. Grayson leaned forward, trailing his tongue over the twin holes on the donor’s neck. “Make sure you seal the wounds. Your saliva will heal them.”

  Ryder’s translucent appearance was slowly replaced with a more ruddy glow. His fangs retreated and his eyes returned their normal whiskey color. The prospect wiped the blood from his chin, but rather than lick the remnants, he wiped the fluid on his jeans as though it were still offensive. He’d sooner or later get used to feeding and what he had become.

  India stood and straightened the sequined black mini she wore. “Would there be anything else?” She looked at Grayson as she asked the question.

  Her warm, dark complexion reminded him of liquid milk chocolate. Damn, if it weren’t for his obsession with Tamera he tried so hard to deny, he wouldn’t mind getting a piece of her. Maybe in time. “Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

  She glanced at her feet. “I usually feed Alexander,” she said before glancing back up. “He hasn’t been around lately.”

  “You two have a thing?” Grayson’s interest peaked. He knew so little about Alexander’s life outside the club. “I didn’t know he had a bitch.”

  Her lips turned down. “I’m sorry if you misunderstood. I feed Alexander. I am no one’s … bitch.”

  “Huh,” was all he could think to reply.

  “If you’ll excuse me.”

  “Sure.” Grayson scratched his bearded cheek. “You want me to tell Xander anything if I see him?”

  For a moment he thought she might take him up on the offer. Instead, she simply said, “No.”

  She turned and Grayson couldn’t help watch her tight little ass sway as she left the room on a pair of five-inch spiked heels most women would have trouble standing in, let alone walking in. India had handled her exit like a true lady. She intrigued him. There was no way he was keeping quiet about this one. He’d ask Alexander about her, test the water and see if there was something between the two of them. Alexander might not be forthcoming with details about the knockout donor, but Grayson wanted to see the look on his face when he
asked.

  Ryder held out his trembling hands, flipping them over. “You can no longer see the veins beneath the skin … and all because I drank her blood?”

  “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “The idea of drinking her blood is downright disgusting.”

  “But?”

  He looked down at the thick ridge in his jeans. “Fuck, you were right, man. It was all I could do not to molest that poor girl.”

  Grayson nodded toward the blonde still sitting behind them. “She might be willing.”

  “I came here for you, Gypsy,” she said. He had no doubt pissed her off, by so casually offering her to another. “Not some virgin vampire.”

  Grayson walked over to her and tipped her chin. “Guess you’re out of luck then, doll. I’m not looking for a piece of ass tonight. Thought I was, but I’m suddenly no longer in the mood.”

  Her lower lip protruded. He placed his arm about her shoulders again. “How about the three of us go party instead? Maybe you’ll change your mind and find Ryder more to your liking.”

  “I have a couple of friends—”

  Grayson laughed. “I like your thinking.”

  He pulled her to her feet, patted her on the backside, and gently pushed her in the direction of the door. “You go round up your girls and we’ll meet you down by the bar. The Jack’s on me.”

  She raised one of her brows. “On you?”

  “Darlin’, if you want to drink Jack off me, then you’re more than welcome. Now head out before I change my mind.”

  The blonde all but tripped over herself as she skipped from the room. Grayson shook his head. Maybe the cute little blonde could change his mind after all. A little ménage might be exactly what he needed. The more the merrier. He turned to Ryder, who looked a whole lot healthier already. His smile split his face damn near ear to ear.

  Ryder stood and rubbed his hands together. “Maybe this vampire thing isn’t so bad after all.”

  Grayson’s humor returned. “Not at all, dude. You would have to be the unluckiest bastard alive not to get a piece of ass tonight.”