Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)(4)

One taste and I’d be breaking the Scars’ law—thou shall not willingly allow a vampire to drink thy blood. Vice versa was a bigger no-no. Balen knew that first-hand.

Actually, sleeping with the enemy was not much better, but it wasn’t breaking any laws.

“Mmmm, I like beef jerky,” Liam said as he slid his hand down my inner thigh and back up again. “And I like you.”

He liked that I was a Scar and against the rules. Blood—my nickname for Liam—might have a truce with the Scars, but he was a vampire and could never be trusted. I was here because he couldn’t be trusted and it was a good way to keep a close eye on him.

“A lot,” he continued, while his fingers trailed to where just minutes ago he’d thrust with furious passion.

Shit, I needed to get out of here before he coerced me into staying another five hours in bed.

“Stay the night,” he said, lowering his lips to my neck, his velvet tongue sweeping across my heated skin.

So not happening. Staying the night spelled ‘Relationship’ in big, bold letters. And this was far from any sort of relationship.

I caught his wrist and pulled it away from between my legs. “Can’t. Have CWOs to hunt. Short-staffed tonight and it’ll be noticed if I don’t report in.”

The Center World Others were being *s lately, and the news reported numerous gravesites that were missing bodies. Bodies CWOs used when whichever bug they descended from crawled up from the core of the Earth and stole it in order to walk among us like humans.

But they weren’t humans; they were bugs. Parasites that enjoyed killing people.

“To Waleron?” He raised his thin, dark brows as he leaned over me.

He had magnetic eyes—brilliant charcoal gray that curved downward in the outer corners, like a sad puppy dog in a window. Deceptive as hell. And irresistible when accompanied with his charm and experienced hands.

I’d been hanging out at his club, a place no Scar was welcome until Liam and I hooked up, so it gave us an in. There’d also been a young witch there recently and Liam had taken an interest in her. Witches were on our side, so that wasn’t a good thing.

“The man you can’t let go of,” Liam drawled.

Maybe true, but coming from a vampire’s mouth, it pissed me off. “Fuck off, Blood.” I threw back the sheet and coldness sank into my bones. “And turn up the heat next time I come over.”

He grabbed my hand before I managed to climb out of bed.

He was strong, a benefit of the vampires, but as a Scar, I was a match for him, although I pretended not to be. Liam was an arrogant bastard and he wouldn’t like a woman being able to beat him at anything.

“Hands off. I need to go.”

The corner of his lips curved upward and the flash of battle flared in his eyes. Crap, he was eager for a fight, and I didn’t have time for his bull.

“He has you wrapped around his little finger. A whisper of a word from him and you come running. I beg you to come to me more often, and you wave me off like a pesky fly.”

“He’s my Taldeburu.” And Waleron was an Ancient and one of the most powerful Scars in the world. You tried not to f*ck with him, although I failed because I naturally pissed him off. “And don’t put pressure on what’s between us. Sex. No strings. That’s all I will ever give. You knew this from the beginning.”

“But I didn’t know how much I’d like you,” he said, and with a sharp tug, he pulled me beneath him and pinned my arms to the mattress with his hands on either side of my head, his weight on my midsection.

I sighed. Liam had that charisma thing going—sexy, alluring, and charming all rolled into one hot package. We didn’t need condoms, as vampires didn’t carry diseases or impregnate, something I didn’t need happening ever again.

And he was against the rules. I was good at breaking the rules. Problem was I always hated myself after I left his place, hated that I did this to ease another kind of pain.

“Jedrik will be wondering why I never checked in,” I said.

“Since when do you check in with anyone? And Jedrik’s a pansy.”

“Sharpshooter with an arrow and has a hate-on for vampires."

“He also went out of the city tonight,” Liam said with a smile.

Shit, he knew everything that went on in this city, and I had yet to figure out how. His contacts stretched further than the Scars. “Got me,” I said.

“Not yet, sweetness. But one day I will.”

Yeah, right. He can have me the day Waleron quits being a Taldeburu—which means never.

Time to get him off and me out the door. “God, you’re relentless,” I muttered.

“Am I?” he drawled, lips inches from mine.

I freed my arm and reached between us and found the hard, heated length, curling my fingers around the thickness. “Are we going to do this or what?”

He chuckled. “Anything for you, sweetness.” Then his mouth slammed down on mine.





The baldheaded dickhead wouldn’t kill her. From what I’d seen on the rooftop three weeks ago, this chick was too important to her husband. The question was why. She was obviously abused, and I’d seen the bastard hit her.

That f*ckin’ shit didn’t go down well with me. Not one f*ckin’ bit. Didn’t care who the woman was or what she’d done, no man took a fist to a woman.