Page 9 of His Mate By Vengeance

Maybe that concussion was worse than he thought, because Vin literally swooned. He could kill these fuckershimself, of course. But who didn’t want their man to threaten murder for them? No one had ever done that for him. There had been a weird connection between him and Angel from the moment they’d met, but it was as he lay on the dirt there he decided he wouldn’t give up until he’d had a taste of him. He’d always been impulsive. He’d have died long ago if he didn’t follow his instincts—hard and immediately. Those instincts were currently screaming at him to reach out to a certain shifter when they should’ve been a bit more concerned with the two men still trying to kill him.

“Awww… puppy. I knew you cared,” he said, voice slurring.

The snick of a finger on a trigger had him jerking to the side. A shower of dirt hit his face when the bullet slammed into the ground close enough to graze his ear. He kept moving in a jerking stop-motion that was nothing like his usual fluidity as two more shots fired against the backing track of Angel’s snarl.

Then there was silence.

He must’ve lost consciousness for a second because the next thing he felt was a damp snout nuzzling against his face as concerned golden eyes looked down on him. Angel had fully shifted to take the men out, and the wolf was whining as he pushed against Vin.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, groaning again at his throbbing headache before forcing himself to sit up.

The smell of blood was everywhere, and he realised the wolf’s face filling his vision was covered in it. The scent had his fangs descending as he craved the life-giving liquid that would help him heal. Nearby, both his attackers lay dead. Their throats had been so viciously ripped from their bodies that their heads were barely attached by the scraps of skin and shattered bones that were left.

So much for questioning them.

“I’m going to grab a blood bag. Can you find someone not quite dead and bring them back to question?” Vin asked.

His vision was slowly coming right, and he watched as the wolf transformed in front of him. Limbs and muscles shifted until Angel’s very beautiful, very naked body stood before him.

So hot, he thought. Or at least he meant to think it. Angel’s frown suggested he might’ve accidentally said it out loud.Oh well.

“Your head was catapulted into a rock when you fell. The back of your skull’s all caved in. Shut up and let me take you inside,” Angel said, scooping up his body like he weighed nothing.

“You’re really pretty. I might keep you,” Vin said, fighting dizziness and nausea as he stared up at Angel’s face, which was wreathed in shadow and streaked with blood and gore.

“Hush,” Angel said, placing him down gently on something soft. The bed. How were they inside already? Time was acting a little jumpy.

“I really do need to question one of them,” Vin said, as his eyes blinked too slowly.

“I’ll take care of it. Just drink this and get some rest,” Angel said, pressing a blood bag into his hand.

Vin woke with a pitiful moan the next afternoon as he winced against the UV coming through the window. Usually, it didn’t bother him at his age, but it still sucked when he was already feeling weak.

“Good. You’re awake,” a voice said, and Vin was out of bed with a knife drawn before the guy had reached the end ofthe first word. How had he not noticed Marco in the room with him?

“Easy, Vin,” Angel murmured from nearby.

Angel’s voice settled him, and that fact terrified him into finally waking up enough to take in the room. There was a vampire tied to one of the kitchen chairs. The pool of blood underneath their captive suggested he’d either been near death when they found him, or Vin had slept through his torture. Probably both. Head wounds were a bitch.

Marco and Angel were the only shifters inside, but now that he was paying attention, he could feel the presence of more of their pack on the roof and in the surrounding forest.

“Care to explain why Kyan thought he could invade my territory and get away with it?” Marco asked.

Vin eyed him warily. The Alpha had more control than most, but he was still the head of a criminal empire. This kind of incursion by vampires into shifter territory was begging for war. If lines were drawn by species, there was no guarantee Marco’s soft spot for him would mean shit, even though they both knew he had no official ties to the Cruor Coven. He was just a contractor. Still, he wouldn’t show any weakness. That was a sure-fire way to end up dead.

“I need a shower. We can ask our guest once I’m clean,” Vin said, waving his hand airily toward the vamp tied to the chair as he tried to saunter rather than stagger to the bathroom.

How big was the fucking stone that had brained him? It had been a long time since it’d taken this long to recover from an injury. He took his time in the hot water, rinsing away blood and gravel and trying not to wince at the dent he could still feel in his skull. He needed another blood bag and to sleep at least another day. But first, he needed to avoid a war between the city’s criminal families. And lure Angel into bed with him.

Someone had left him a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to change into. He rolled his eyes at the thought of wearing anything so ill-fitting before he inhaled and realised they were Angel’s. They’d be way too big for him, but he could make it work if it meant the shifters here would smell Angel’s clothes on him and know Angel washis.

Vin froze as he processed the possessive thought. Where had it come from? He’d certainly never thought anything like it before. But life was too long not to embrace every novel sensation, and he wasn’t one to hesitate once he made his mind up. Angel would come round. They could fuck and get this out of their system and then he’d go on his way like always.

A quick knot and tear in the too-large t-shirt had it baring his midriff and riding down one shoulder instead of swamping him. The sweatpants were a little more challenging to style. He settled on ripping off the bottoms so he didn’t trip over them, and letting them ride dangerously low on his hips, ignoring the boxer briefs in favour of going commando.

When he emerged back into the cabin, Angel’s searing gaze and flared nostrils as he took in their combined scent made the terrible fashion choice worth it. Bouncing over to the shifter, he kissed him on the cheek before he could pull away.

“Thanks for the clothes, Angel.”

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