Rogue (Sons of Sangue Book 4) Read online

  “There’s this guy I met. He’s hot as hell.”

  “That’s awesome, Tena.” Kimber chuckled. Her younger colleague seemed to find a “hot as hell” guy monthly, though this was the first time she had called Kimber about it. “So what does this have to do with me?”

  She heard the hesitation in Tena’s voice and couldn’t help thinking she wasn’t going to like what the younger girl was about to ask. “The Blood ‘n’ Rave is the place to be on the weekends. And … everyone’s busy tonight…”

  “Except for me,” Kimber finished for her. Was she truly that much of an introvert?

  “You have to admit, Kimber, you rarely go out in the evenings. It’s not like us girls and Chad haven’t invited you before, but you say no more than you say yes.”

  Yep, she had definitely become an introvert.

  Kimber had gone only on a rare occasion to the nightclubs with her coworkers, and Chad, being in favor of the same sex, loved to hang with the girls from work. The Blood ‘n’ Rave, though, pushed the boundaries of where she was willing to go for a drink. Murphy’s Tavern was more her style. From her knowledge, most of those hanging at the Blood ‘n’ Rave were either ravers or the local outlaws, Sons of Sangue. Which brought Anton back to the forefront of her thoughts. The Sons of Sangue were a rival gang of the Devils. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into her sexy-as-sin neighbor while at the nightclub.

  “Kimber?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Tena. I don’t know.”

  “Please? I don’t want to go alone and I know he’ll be there.” Her sympathetic tone had Kimber already caving to the request.

  Damn.

  Kimber needed to learn the word no. Even when it came to work, everyone knew to ask her if they wanted to call off. Her coworkers took advantage of her regularly, not that she really minded. Kimber loved her job. There was nothing better than the smell and feel of books. They had kept her company many lonely nights. Took her places she couldn’t otherwise afford to travel.

  “Pretty please?” Tena broke into her reverie. “This might be the future mister to my missus. You wouldn’t want to be the reason I missed meeting Mister Forever-and-Always, would you?”

  Kimber took a deep breath before slowly releasing it, knowing she would no doubt regret — damn them regrets — her decision. Not wanting to stand in the way of what could be true love, unlikely as it was, she sighed. “What time?”

  “Oh, Kimber, I could kiss you.” Tena giggled. Kimber could easily imagine her dancing about the library’s break room. “After work. I can meet you in the parking lot at nine.”

  “You best not leave me standing.”

  “I’ll be there. Promise.”

  Kimber smiled in spite of her reluctance to go within a hundred yards of the place. “Now if I can figure out what to wear.”

  “Just don’t wear white. You’ll glow like a beacon under the black lights. Okay, got to get to work. See you at nine,” Tena said and the cell went dead.

  She laid the phone on the table and stared at it for long moments. Kimber stifled a groan. Those regrets were already settling in.

  Chapter 2

  The setting sun cast an orange glow over the horizon as Anton pulled his bike to a stop on the gravel lot located behind the Blood ‘n’ Rave and killed the engine. Being shortly after nine, ravers were starting to pour into the nightclub. The muffled sounds of industrial music spilled into the parking lot, the loud bass thumping against his chest. He used his boot heel to kick down the kickstand before disembarking.

  A sense of nostalgia washed over him.

  He missed coming here, hanging with his brothers and the camaraderie they shared. His heart weighed heavy. Pulling off his skull cap, he hung the helmet from one of the handle grips and finger-combed his still-damp hair. Anton looked across the lot and the many cars illuminated by the streetlights, wishing like hell he could turn back time. He couldn’t help wonder if this job hadn’t cost him far too much. He still would’ve agreed to help Cara, for that he held no contrition, but not to keep the secret from his brothers.

  Had he been able to turn back the clock, he wouldn’t agree to keep the MC in the dark. Their hate of him was almost too much to bear. Not to mention they actually thought him capable of such a betrayal.

  Upon arrival to his home turf, Anton had headed straight for his farmhouse in much need of a shower, removing the grime and dust from his long ride up the coast, and for a fresh set of clothes. He had felt her presence the moment he hit his driveway as surely as if her fingers had tickled up his spine, raising the goose flesh on his arms. Kimber James had stood at the corner of her house, her gaze locking with his. Instead of acknowledging his return, she had simply given him her back and walked out of sight around the corner of her quaint little farmhouse. Not even so much as a wave.

  Anton grimaced.

  Good.

  No matter what his libido might have to say about the little librarian, she was off-limits. He had a job to do and he’d see it through to the end. Anton wasn’t about to put Kimber in danger with the cartel or the Devils because he desired to have her long legs wrapping his waist. If the men he now associated with even so much as got wind he was working with the cops, they wouldn’t hesitate to go after someone he cared about.

  Like it or not, Kimber definitely fell into that category.

  Which was reason enough to keep his distance.

  No way in hell could he travel down that road with someone who didn’t know of vampires’ existence, not to mention that according to Sons of Sangue law she was not mate material. Only donors could become mates. Using his key to unlock the back door of the Rave, Anton stepped into the dim interior of the storeroom, his eyes easily adjusting. Draven had thought it best if Anton used the rear entrance to steer clear of the Sons — the barkeep no more privy to his undercover work than the rest of his brethren. Cara had made it clear, for all those involved, the less who knew about his involvement, the safer everyone would be. Draven was the highest risk, since the Devils wouldn’t think twice about taking him out. Being mortal, he wouldn’t stand a chance should they decide he had outlived his usefulness.

  Anton’s keen senses kicked in the minute he cleared the door. He scented Alexander and Grigore just beyond the door leading to the bar. They no doubt lounged there, knocking back whiskeys, which meant they were well aware Anton had arrived. He needn’t have to worry. They had been in the building at the same moment many times before. The Sons may not like him much at the moment, but they wouldn’t be cruel enough to deny him communion.

  Over the past year, Anton had to rely on Draven either bringing donors down the coast, or making the long trek back, which wasn’t always the ideal situation. On occasion, he had used an outsider for nourishment, having to resort to hypnotism to wipe their memories clean of the intimate act. He much preferred using donors. Taking someone’s blood without their permission didn’t sit right with him. Though color it any way he like, survival was animalistic. One needed food to remain among the living and at times he had to resort to whatever means necessary. Anton had to make do with the situation presented to him, and traveling home to Oregon every three to four days would have raised suspicion with the Devils.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine thirty five. He had told Draven he would arrive on the half hour, and the barkeep had yet to bring him a donor, putting a damper on his already sour mood. The sooner he fed, the quicker he was on his way and back off the Sons’ radar. Anton was pretty sure the two brothers on the other side of the door probably felt much the same. He detested the fact his comrades despised him for defecting. He might as well suck it up. In the end, it wasn’t Cara or Kane’s fault for the situation he found himself in. He had been the one to agree to it. Plain and simple. Anton couldn’t leave Draven hanging out to dry on his own. Someone needed to be on the inside to protect him. In the end, if Kane got his justice against the man who had caused the death of his son, Ion, then Anton would consider it time we
ll spent, no matter the repercussions.

  The door to the bar opened, spilling the loud club music into the room. India, a dark-skinned donor, closed the door behind her. The woman was gorgeous, with a pair of legs that seemed to go on forever. Any man would feel lucky to have them wrapping his waist.

  If he was only looking to get laid…

  He had fed from India before, but never once mixing his food with pleasure where she was concerned. He preferred to keep things platonic with most donors. Not saying he was a saint. Just less drama in the end. India’s blood had a smooth smoky flavor. Each blood donor had their own unique taste, which is why some of the Sons preferred one donor over the other.

  He found India’s blood definitely pleasing to his palate, but he wasn’t about to feed exclusively. The less they expected, the fewer feelings that got hurt along the way. For now, his life was in Santa Barbara. Coming to Oregon was purely about nourishment.

  Anton stifled a chuckle.

  Who the hell was he trying to fool? Oregon was his home … always would be. No matter how many days and weeks he spent south of the border, his heart remained north of it. Spending much time on his home turf in the last year hadn’t been an option.

  Until now.

  Anton needed a little R&R, and he didn’t give two shits what Tank had to say about the matter. He’d lay low for a week or two before heading back to his life with the Devils. Fuck Tank, or anyone else for that matter, if they didn’t like it. He needed to get the hell away from the men who occupied his days. He feared losing his shit and taking a few of them out. Some of them were simply a waste of good oxygen.

  “Hey there, handsome.” India smiled, taking Anton’s mind off the unpleasantness of his life.

  His gums ached as his fangs filled his mouth and his eyes heated, telling him they had transformed to twin obsidian coals. Anton worked the tightness from his jaw as he watched India approach with a slight sway to her hips. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, divulging her nerves. India never hid the fact she preferred being just a donor, not really wanting more from the Sons. She needn’t worry. Anton wasn’t looking for a piece of ass.

  Out of all the Sons, Anton probably abstained the most. Truth of it, in the past couple of years, he had been preoccupied with a fucked up love triangle. One he had been destined to lose from the beginning, but was too damn enamored to see it. Tamera Cantrell had been an infatuation for him long before Grayson stepped up to the plate and finally took back what was rightfully his in the first place. Disappointment and heartache had followed for Anton. He’d never stood a chance. The knowledge hadn’t made the sting of rejection any less.

  His feisty neighbor came to mind.

  She too had a way with twisting his guts with longing. Kimber had no idea vampires existed, making her more off-limits than Tamera had been. Vampires and humans didn’t mix for risk of exposure. Rules were put into place to keep them safe from exposure. Draven kept a good supply of donors around for feeding and sexual release. Each donor brought in knew the consequences of telling their secret. Their lives depended on the ability to keep their mouths shut. Mates were to be found among them.

  Anton could only imagine what Kimber might think should she look upon him as he stood before India, ready to feed. The one time he had seduced the librarian into his bed, he had hypnotized her into forgetting his vampiric features. Foolhardy? Most certainly, but he couldn’t say he regretted a second of it.

  Repeat performance slammed into his thoughts, causing an arrow of extreme hunger of another kind to shoot straight for his cock. Maybe he ought to quit being the good guy — look where that had gotten him. He certainly could use the release.

  Every muscle in his body ached with the thought of getting Kimber back into his bed. Christ, he wanted to sink his cock deep into her, feel her surround him and make him forget the shitty hand he had been dealt. Anton hadn’t been exactly celibate over the past year. He had slept with a few of the Devils’ club bitches, but they held nothing on Kimber. Strip away the outer appearances and the little librarian turned into quite the fiery little nymph.

  His biggest regret in this whole mess was letting her walk away when all he wanted to do was bed her again. Hell, he needed to fuck her from his thoughts. No good would come from his obsession. But even so, that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

  India held out her hand and led Anton to the sofa in the corner of the room. He skirted the ottoman and sat, pulling the black-haired woman between his spread knees. Her gaze dropped to the bulge in his jeans. Blood lust easily caused the effect, but this hard-on had nothing to do with his hunger, and everything to do with his thoughts of the librarian.

  Kimber was taboo.

  He needed to get that through his thick skull.

  This trip to Oregon had been a bad idea from the start. All it had accomplished thus far was his desire for Kimber returning with the force of a locomotive. And just like that locomotive, even if the brakes were applied, there was no stopping it on a dime. He’d need to find a way to exorcise her from his mind, no matter how long it took.

  India’s gaze quickly darted away, no doubt misunderstanding the cause of his erection. He needed to ease her apprehension and get on with the communion. Not that India wasn’t beautiful, and maybe under different circumstances he wouldn’t have minded taking the feeding a step further.

  But not today.

  Only one woman would do.

  With a growl of frustration, Anton cupped the back of India’s skull and titled her head to the side. The smell of her blood teased his nostrils. Anton opened his mouth wide and sank his fangs into her artery. The soft pop of her flesh carried to his ears. Warm blood ran over his tongue and coated his throat, filling him with heat and soothing the ache of hunger in his stomach.

  India groaned, her body going languid in his grip. His hands smoothed down her spine, anchoring her to him. Her blood had a slightly different tinge than he remembered; he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. As he continued to take his fill, Anton missed India’s rising apprehension until she fisted the front of his tee shirt. He released his fangs with a hiss. Anton quickly sealed the twin holes with his tongue, the saliva having healing properties, and set her away from him.

  His gaze took in India’s. Moisture gathered in her eyes. Damn, he was an ass. Gripping her chin between his forefinger and thumb, Anton tilted her face to his.

  “I’m sorry, India. I never meant to make you uneasy.”

  Her gaze dropped. “It’s me.”

  “Has someone hurt you?”

  “You don’t need me to unload my troubles on you, Blondy.” She took in a shaky breath before looking him in the eyes again. “You’re a good man. All the donors know you’re the Son with the biggest heart. Look at what you did for Tamera, holding her through her change when Gypsy had all but abandoned her.”

  Her reminder soured his gut. “That may have been, India, but I’m not the same man I was a year ago.”

  She snorted as if she didn’t believe it were possible.

  “You really should stop referring to me as Blondy.” Even though she had fed him over the past year, knew he had deflected, she continued to treat him as if her were still a Son. “He’s dead.”

  “Because of Gypsy and Tamera?”

  “It would be easy enough to continue to blame them, but no. I’ve changed.”

  Her gaze held his for a long moment, then she said, “You can fool the rest of them, but you don’t fool me. If you were the changed man you say you are — you would’ve tried to take advantage of the blood lust. You didn’t.”

  She was astute. He’d give her that. To tell her he hungered for another woman and wouldn’t be crass enough to fuck her while he continued to do so would only solidify her argument the old Blondy was still somewhere in there.

  He turned his lips down. “I needed to feed. That’s your reason for standing here. Fucking’s not part of the deal, unless the donor says it is. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.”
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  India smiled, despite the moisture still filling her gaze. “You can change your hair, hang with assholes, and try to fool everyone, Blondy—”

  “It’s Rogue.”

  “Rogue, whatever. You don’t fool me.” She placed a palm over his sternum. “I know inside here, there’s a man with a big heart. He’s still in there. What you did for Tamera, helping her through her change when Gypsy was being an ass, proved you’re a good man. Whatever’s going on with you, I hope you get it figured out. No matter what leaves your lips, I think there’s still a Son somewhere in here.” She tapped his chest.

  His face heated. Anton couldn’t afford for her to trip up his game. He gripped her wrists and leaned down, his nose just inches from hers. “No one gives a fuck what you think, India, least of all me. You did your job, now take your nosy ass back into the bar and away from me.”

  Tears slipped from her lashes. “Whatever, Rogue. Go back down the coast, if that’s what makes you feel better. Until you decide to be true to yourself, next time you need to feed? Request someone else.”

  She yanked her wrists from his grip and headed for the door. Anton’s breath damn near stopped him dead. It wasn’t from India’s parting words, but the scent wafting through the opened door.

  What the hell was Kimber James doing at the Rave?

  Anton strode to the door and all but pulled it from its hinges. Fire slid through his veins as he caught sight of Grigore “Wolf” Lupei with his big ass paw on the small of her back, offering to buy her drink. Her gaze landed on his, pulling at his groin. Anton gritted his teeth just as Grigore’s angry glare found his.

  “What the fuck, Rogue?” Alexander, the normally quiet Son, drew his attention briefly. Anton couldn’t help but wonder just what the hell his problem was.

  Grigore frowned and his face turned ugly. “What the fuck are you looking at, boy?”

  Chapter 3

  Kimber felt Anton’s eyes the moment they landed on her, heating her from the inside and making an already warm night damn near unbearable. He was the last person she expected to encounter at the Blood ‘n’ Rave. Yet, he filled the doorway on the other side of the polished bar, looking like a wet dream.