Page 4 of His Mate By Vengeance

The flash of wild gold in the wolf’s eyes in response was gratifying, but the flirtatious move had been as much habit as anything. He was smaller and weaker than most of the supernaturals he came across and it was only a combination of sex, smarts, and his relentless dedication to his martial arts training that let him come out on top every time. Well, except when he didn’twantto be on top.

As his gaze traced down the beautiful specimen before him, he suppressed an uncharacteristic shiver at the image that thought evoked. Angel wasn’t the biggest shifter he’d met by any stretch, but his muscles looked like they’d been sculpted by an artist. He’d bet that broad chest had just the right amount of hair to remind him Angel was an animal and probably fucked like one, too.

Most of the pack’s inner circle was related—all coal-blackhair and the deep tan of Mediterranean skin. If he hadn’t already known Angel had been more-or-less adopted by Marco, he would’ve realised by the distinctive soft russet colour of his short hair. Would his wolf have that same colouring?

Giving himself a mental shake, Vin rolled out of bed to find something to distract himself in this too-cramped space. People were tools just like his body was. He used them and moved on. He was more ruthless, more deadly, than any other vampire out there, so that he would never be in a position of powerlessness again. Desire and pointless wonderings were weaknesses he didn’t have time for.

Still, there was something appealing about his Angel’s venom. He’d always loved a challenge and the past decades had been dull. One of the gifts of his age was an aura that endeared him to people. It had been a while since someone had resisted his charms quite so implacably. He’d been with shifters before, so he knew his scent was like catnip for wolves. Angel’s visceral negative reaction to him was like a flash of warm velvet across a world of cold marble. Why did he hate him so much? And why did that intrigue him? Angel was hardly the first man to despise him on sight for his occupation.

Sauntering to the kitchen, he pretended to ignore the too-tempting shifter while he inspected the cooler Angel had thrown onto the floor with far more force than necessary.

“We can take turns patrolling tonight. We have surveillance tech throughout this clearing, but it won’t help if someone like you comes knocking. Are you armed?” Angel asked him, the angry growl of his voice sending another shiver through him.

Vin bent over to check the cooler’s contents, relieved to see enough blood to get him through several weeks if needed. He doubted he could’ve convinced Angel to let him feed onhim and things would’ve become awkward when he pressed the issue. Looking back over his shoulder at the big shifter, he flashed another predatory smile as he noticed the man’s beautiful green eyes darting away from where they’d been locked on his ass.

“Only with close-quarter weapons. Do you have guns here if we’re ambushed?” Vin asked, stroking the leather bracelets twined around his wrists that each hid a garotte.

He wasn’t usually one for projectiles, but he wasn’t one for dying over something he hadn’t even done either. Figuring out why Kyan was so convinced it was him who’d set the bomb and who had set him up was high on his list of priorities. A firearm would be a useful substitute for the dagger he always had strapped to one thigh, and he’d still have two more blades concealed in his combat boots.

“My pack sells weapons for a living. Of course, there are guns here,” Angel growled, manoeuvring his way around Vin to a cupboard he hadn’t explored yet and somehow managing not to touch any part of him, which was impressive given how tight this space was and how large the shifter was.

Vin couldn’t see around his broad shoulders as he opened the wooden door, but the move was followed by the beeping sound of Angel entering a pin. When the shifter stepped aside, he revealed a compact but well-stocked armoury.

“Mmmm… I love a good weapon,” Vin said, letting his voice turn husky and stepping forward to trail his fingers over the options available to him.

“Could you stop with the sexual innuendo already?” Angel snapped, sounding pained.

Vin threw his head back and laughed, spinning back to face him and cocking an eyebrow as he stepped right into the wolf’s personal space. Before he could restrain himself, he was drawing in a deep breath of Angel’s scent that was all man with a hint of the forest that surrounded them like thewild terrain had seeped into his essence. He shouldn’t have stepped so close. He wouldn’t be able to catch him by surprise like he’d done last time if Angel attacked again. If it came down to raw strength, he’d be outmatched. But it wouldn’t come down to that because Vin never played fair.

Reaching up, he placed a hand on Angel’s chest, revelling in the soft pressure of his pulse beneath his fingers, the lure of his blood, as the firm muscles beneath Angel’s shirt tensed at his touch.

“You gonna make me?” he asked, biting his lip as he looked up at the taller shifter like the coquettish, vulnerable man he definitely wasn’t.

He needed Angel to let his guard down. The shifter wasn’t going to let Vin come and go the way he needed to investigate this fucking mess and clear his name otherwise. He’d be lucky if Angel didn’t try to handcuff him to something before morning came. Vin needed to get control of the situation. Get control of Angel.

Fuck.He didn’t need the images that flashed through his mind at that thought. He needed to get control of himself as well, which was a first. Despite the fact he wasn’t hungry, his fangsachedto sink into the shifter’s veins, and he could feel them lengthening and releasing the sweet venom that would make his bite feel like ecstasy.

Angel must’ve noticed because he wrenched himself away from him with a groan and stormed out the door again, muttering about patrols and mouthy vampires. Vin grinned and turned back to the armoury to stock up.

Swapping out his knife holster for one that would hold a gun, he frowned at the unfamiliar annoyance of the loaded weapon between his thighs. He’d have much preferred a different kind of barrel there. Although maybe it would be fun to play with later… No. He sighed. He needed to focus. Feeling naked without a dagger on him, he pushed his feet back into his combat boots and double-checked the blades they concealed.

With enough weapons on his person to take out at least a dozen attackers, he turned his attention to placing more strategically around the cabin—a sniper rifle and case of grenades by the window next to the front door, a shotgun and more grenades by the reinforced back door. The only other obvious opening to the outside world was the long, narrow window above the kitchen bench. The cabin was small and designed to have minimal points of exposure to ambush while giving them plenty of exits if needed.

Glancing up, he noticed a locked ceiling hatch. He could’ve broken through the lock, but that would’ve been counterproductive to their safety. Grabbing a blood bag in an attempt to get his errant hunger under control, he settled at the dining table with his phone while he waited for Angel to return. It was a burner, of course. Ditching his phone was the first thing he’d done when he realised Kyan was putting his considerable resources as leader of the Cruor Coven into finding him. His burner only had one number in it—Dar’s—and the reception was too patchy here for him to get online. With nothing better to do, he called his old friend.

“Vin, is everything okay?” Dar answered.

“You do like to test me, don’t you? A bodyguard? Really? And a shifter at that,” Vin said, drawing cool blood into his mouth from the bag he’d grabbed and screwing his nose up in distaste. Cold blood was the worst.

Dar’s laugh had him scowling just like the too-beautiful shifter he’d chased out of the cabin. “It was fifty/fifty as to whether Marco would even help. You can play nice for a week.”

“Did you find out anything from your brother?” Vin asked.

“He paid me a visit earlier, along with a half dozen of hispeople. We made polite conversation while we pretended they weren’t searching my home for you.”

Vin winced. Dar hated people in his space. Always had. “Fuck. Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I know where each of them lives. Revenge is best served cold and all that,” Dar said.

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