Crimson Moon Page 2

  Instead of getting pissed off, Ramiro’s expression softened. “Few of us had a choice in what we’ve become. I spent many years hating myself for desiring the one thing my body needed to survive. I’m only trying to save you from that, because your hatred won’t change anything.”

  Gunnar swallowed around the lump in his throat at the raw emotion evident in Ramiro’s voice.

  Ramiro reached out and grasped Gunnar’s neck, moving his thumb to brush over Gunnar’s bottom lip. “I’m not a monster. The reason I give my donors what they want is to make me feel better about taking from them. I could tease them like Audric and many of the others do, but I find that…selfish.”

  Lost in the gentle touch, Gunnar licked the pad of Ramiro’s thumb as it passed once more over his lips.

  Ramiro gasped, moments before pressing his lips against Gunnar’s. For several long moments, Gunnar allowed Ramiro’s thrusting tongue to explore the inside of his mouth. Gods! For weeks he’d wondered what it would feel like to have Ramiro hold him, kiss him, fuck him. The last thought pulled Gunnar out of the haze he’d found himself in. I’m an Alpha, damn it.

  Breaking the kiss, Gunnar pushed against Ramiro’s chest. He shook his head and backed away from the tempting vampire. “I can’t,” he said as he turned and ran.

  * * * *

  Several moments later, Ramiro stood inside The Frenzy still dazed by the kiss. Damn that kiss. Why the fuck had he done something so stupid? Now that he knew Gunnar’s body would respond to him, Ramiro wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. He’d tried to pass his preoccupation with Gunnar off for weeks as nothing but desire, but after one kiss he knew the truth. Ian had been right, somewhere along the way he’d fallen in love with Gunnar.

  “Back so soon?” the little blond fae from earlier asked.

  Ramiro shook his head. “I’m looking for someone.”

  “I could help you,” the fae offered.

  Ramiro spotted Audric across the room. Although Audric was with a donor, Kern was only a few feet away. “Thanks, but I see him.” He wove his way through the crowd, the taste of Gunnar still clinging to his tongue. Fuck! How was he supposed to concentrate on anything if he couldn’t get control of his emotions?

  “I need to speak with Audric,” Ramiro told Kern.

  Kern’s gaze went to the tented pants Ramiro wore. “No.”

  Ramiro rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his obvious erection. “This isn’t about Audric. I just need to ask him a few questions.”

  Kern gestured with his chin. “He’s almost finished with his dinner.”

  Although Ramiro got along with Kern, the man was extremely protective of Audric. Ramiro knew he’d have to include Kern in the discussion if he hoped to have more than a few seconds to converse with the werewolf-turned-vampire. “Where’s Haig?” Rarely did you see the three of them not together.

  “With his sister,” Kern answered without taking his eyes off his mate.

  “Galena’s here?”

  “Even though she was hidden away in that fucking cage most of the time, Neo thinks she can be of some use to us. He brought her and Flick to The Realm this morning.” Kern glanced up at Ramiro. “Whether or not Galena can be of help, I’m glad she’s here. Haig was about to drive me crazy worrying about her.”

  Not having had a family for centuries, Ramiro did his best to look sympathetic. “I understand.”

  His poor acting job was saved by Audric’s appearance. “Ready?” Audric asked Kern, cock in hand.

  Kern encircled Audric’s erection with his hand but shook his head. “Ramiro needs to talk to you first.”

  Audric’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

  Ramiro glanced around. Several sets of eyes were on them. There was no doubt the crowd waited for the nightly sex show Audric put on after feeding. “Not here.”

  “You’re joking, right?” Audric asked, thrusting into Kern’s hand.

  Ramiro knew what he was asking. The sexual buzz that accompanied feeding was incredibly powerful. He decided to give Audric a break. “Meet me outside in ten minutes.”

  Audric nodded before climbing onto Kern’s lap.

  Ramiro turned away and studied the crowd. Should he indulge in a quick blow job while he waited? Gunnar’s earlier statement came to mind. Although Ramiro still wasn’t sure what Gunnar’s problem was, he decided against finding a quick hook-up. Instead he went outside to wait.

  He strolled back and forth in front of the club as vampires and fae went in and out of the building. Humans had always volunteered to donate their blood for the sexual aspect and thrill of it, but Ramiro had never taken the time to figure out why the fae did it. Was it purely sexual on their part? Ramiro couldn’t imagine a fae needing the thrill.

  “Okay, what’s so important?” Audric asked, stepping out of the bar.

  “I was wondering if you’d remembered any more about your wolf, and what you went through after being turned by LaMont?” Ramiro asked.

  “Why do you ask?” Audric’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “No good can come of it.”

  “I think I may have found a way for Gunnar to hang on to that part of himself. So tell me why you don’t think it’s a good idea?” It seemed Audric agreed with Ian. Perhaps it had been wrong of him to talk to Gunnar about the possibilities.

  “Because not being able to shift is equal to you starving for blood. It’s a hunger that won’t go away. To wish that on someone is to hate them, in my opinion.” Audric’s voice had gone down several octaves. It was more than obvious the man was pissed off at the very idea. “I had to bury that part of myself or risk insanity. Gunnar was a born Alpha. For him, the risk is even greater.”

  What had he done? “Thank you for your honesty.” Ramiro needed to find Gunnar and drive all thoughts of holding on to his wolf from his head. “Excuse me, I have to go.”

  Before Ramiro could make a move, Audric’s hand was wrapped around his forearm. “I know you’re only trying to help him, but both of you need to accept what he’s become.”

  “You’re right. I understand that now.” Ramiro took off, hoping it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Two

  Gunnar stared at the walls of his bedroom. Living in the palace with Spiro and Neo had proved to be important, but he missed the open space of the vineyard. He thought of the rest of the wolves and cats who’d been relocated to The Realm for their safety.

  The sooner they put an end to Morwyn and the Galway Alpha, Juniper Cavanaugh, the faster he could get his people home. Gunnar fisted his hands. He could no longer claim the weres as his people. It had been the hardest thing to come to terms with. Belonging to and leading a pack had meant everything to him. His position as head of security for Neo had also been a question on his mind lately. Would the weres still respect and follow him?

  Regardless of his future position, he still owed it to the weres to fight the upcoming war as if he were still their Alpha. Jumping up from the large bed he’d been given, Gunnar parted the heavy canopy drapes. There was research to be done if they were to have any hope of defeating Morwyn. His personal issues could wait.

  He was on his way down to the palace vault when he spotted Ramiro. Gunnar did his best to duck around a corner before the vampire saw him. After their earlier kiss, the last thing he wanted was to tempt his body again so soon. He had no doubt it was the changes in his genetic makeup that wanted Ramiro and nothing more.

  “We need to talk,” Ramiro said, still hidden from view.

  “I’m on my way to the vault. There are things more important than whether or not I can retain my wolf.” Gunnar refused to cling to a dream he knew was unattainable. He’d had numerous discussions with Audric over the possibility that his wolf could survive the change. When Ramiro had mentioned the book, it had given Gunnar a spark of hope, but the kiss had quickly put things into perspective. He was a vampire.

  Ramiro turned the corner and stared at Gunnar. “I’ll go with you.”

  Gunnar took a step back be
fore he realised what he was doing. He stopped and squared his shoulders. Had his Alpha been driven so deeply inside himself that a vampire intimidated him? No. Gunnar knew exactly why he’d retreated. How long would the battle rage between his body and his mind?

  “Whatever,” Gunnar finally said, continuing down the hall. He wove his way through the maze-like corridors with Ramiro right on his heels. Reaching the library, Gunnar nodded at the two guards and waited for them to open the massive doors.

  Once the doors were shut behind him, he walked over to the statue of Zeus and pressed the small button on the underside of its beard. The floor opened to a spiral staircase that would take them to the vault.

  As they descended the steps, Gunnar heard a noise from below. He stopped and glanced up at Ramiro. “There’s someone already down here.”

  Ramiro nodded. “Probably Neo. He wants to get back to the vineyard as much as you do.”

  Mention of his home caused an ache in Gunnar’s chest. He needed to speak to Neo about his job, but the upcoming war was more important. Continuing down the steps, he walked into the dimly lit vault. He’d been told the massive room was kept at a constant sixteen degrees celsius, eliciting a momentary body-shiver from Gunnar.

  Neo glanced up from the book on the table in front of him. The expression on his face was grave. “Morwyn’s drawing the underworld powers of the Titans.”

  “What?” Ramiro stopped beside Gunnar. “That’s not possible.”

  Neo pointed to the book. “It is if he has this.”

  Gunnar exchanged glances with Ramiro before continuing to the table. He peered over Neo’s shoulder at an ancient illustration. “Cronus’s sickle? But I thought that was destroyed in the war against the Titans and Olympians.”

  “Not destroyed. Lost.” Neo carefully turned the brittle pages of the book to another picture. This one depicted a scene from the Titanomachy, the great war of the Gods, Zeus charging Cronus and the sickle falling from Cronus’s hand towards Earth below. “I think Juniper Cavanaugh somehow found it, whether he was already communicating with Morwyn or what, I don’t know.” Neo tapped the picture. “This has to be what rescued Morwyn from the bowels of Tartarus.”

  Gunnar started to ask how Neo had figured it out, but Neo stopped him.

  “This is the only thing in existence other than my father’s lightning bolts that have the power to unlock the door to Tartarus.” Neo rose out of his chair. “There’s something else.”

  Gunnar glanced at Ramiro before following Neo. “Are you telling us we have to get the sickle back if we want to banish Morwyn?”

  “That’s one way,” Neo said absently. He continued to walk through the rows and rows of ancient texts until he reached the art area. “I can’t find anything that confirms my suspicions, but there’s a picture in here that’s given me an idea.”

  Neo turned on a small lamp before opening one of the large, flat drawers used to house the original paintings. He turned and shifted his gaze between Gunnar and Ramiro. “You are two of the few who have ever been allowed in this area. What you see is for your eyes only. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Gunnar answered immediately. He’d sworn allegiance to Neo long ago and, although he may lose his position once the war was over, his loyalties would always stand true.

  After Ramiro had also agreed, Neo stepped back. “This is a depiction of the battle between Uranus and Cronus.”

  Gunnar wasn’t sure what he was supposed to see. It was Ramiro who commented. “Just before his balls were lopped off, I gather.”

  Neo chuckled. “Yes.” Neo moved over several rows before opening another drawer. “Now this one is of Morwyn’s war with Nialo and the dragons. Notice anything?”

  Gunnar reached out to touch the ancient canvas but quickly pulled his hand back. “The sword. It’s the same.”

  “Yes. And according to history, the sword was never far from Morwyn’s side. It’s the same weapon he used to separate himself from Nialo.” Neo pointed towards the canvas. “I believe Morwyn’s looking for that sword. I think it’s the reason he’s assembling an army.”

  There was something in the way Neo said it that prompted a shiver to race up Gunnar’s spine. A warm hand on his lower back told Gunnar that Ramiro sensed his unease. “Do you know where the sword is?”

  “Hanging in a heavily-warded case over the fireplace in King Kildare’s bedroom,” Ramiro supplied.

  Gunnar span around and stared into Ramiro’s dark eyes, a spark of jealousy rising within him. Gods, he could easily get lost in those dark chocolate depths. He managed to find his voice, despite his body’s reaction to the nearness of the vampire. “Why does he have it?”

  “I don’t know,” Ramiro said, his focus on Gunnar’s lips.

  Dammit! Gunnar’s cock hardened before he could turn away.

  “Would you ask him?” Neo asked.

  Ramiro glanced over Gunnar’s shoulder at Neo. “Would you like me to set up a meeting?”

  “Tomorrow evening, seven o’ clock. I’ll make sure Spiro’s there as well.” Neo shut the drawers before turning off the lamp. “We’re running out of time. With each day, Juniper’s army grows in size and strength.”

  * * * *

  Just before dawn, Ramiro knocked on Ian’s bedchamber door from his adjoining room. He was taking a risk by seeking audience with Ian at this time of the morning. Not only did Ian have a tendency to become crabby when he was forced to leave his playmates for a day of sleep, but he more than likely had a donor in his room for an early morning snack before bed.

  When the door opened almost immediately, it was a surprise. “Come in,” Ian beckoned.

  Ramiro followed the totally nude King into his extravagant quarters. The sight of his firm ass didn’t hold the appeal it once had for Ramiro, but it was still quite a work of art. He glanced towards the large fireplace, making sure it was, in fact, the same sword seen in the portraits.

  Ian sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. He lifted his splayed legs and rested his heels on the sofa cushions, proudly exposing his hole to Ramiro’s eyes. “What can I do for you?” he asked, his fingers circling the seldom-fucked pucker.

  The erotic scene in front of him was almost more than Ramiro could ignore. For centuries Ian had played with Ramiro’s affections, pulling him into bed before unceremoniously kicking him out again. It seemed Ian was in the mood to be taken, something he didn’t allow anyone but Ramiro to do.

  Before falling for Gunnar, Ramiro would’ve jumped at the chance to bury his cock in the King’s ass again, but it no longer felt right. However, because of Ian’s position, declining the apparent offer would mean the end of his career. Perhaps if he riled the King, Ian’s attention would focus elsewhere. “Neo would like a meeting with you. He wants to discuss how you came about acquiring Morwyn’s sword.”

  Ian jumped off the sofa and went to stand between Ramiro and the fireplace. “It’s not Morwyn’s sword! It belonged to Faelan. Morwyn stole it from him, and Faelan got it back when Morwyn was sentenced for his crimes.”

  Ramiro rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, trying to smooth the hairs that had begun to prickle. The vehement way Ian defended Faelan was unsettling. As far as Ramiro knew, Faelan had deserted Ian and the rest of the fae and vampires at around the same time Morwyn was exiled to Tartarus. “If Faelan feels so strongly for the sword, why do you have it?”

  “It was a gift,” Ian said defensively. “Not that I need to explain myself to you.” Ian sniffed indignantly. “Tell Neo to forget the sword. It has nothing to do with this mess.”

  Ramiro’s eyes narrowed. Was he being given an order? He’d sworn allegiance to Ian long ago, but how could he try and convince Neo of something he didn’t believe himself? Better to think about it, he told himself. He bowed in respect for his king. “What shall I tell Neo about the meeting he’s requested?”

  “If you assure him about the sword, there will be no need for a meeting. Am I right?”

  “Very well.
I’ll do my best.” Ramiro turned and left the room before Ian’s ardour returned. Fuck! He shut the door between rooms, unsure of what to do. Faelan. What part did the Creator’s sword play in the upcoming war, or did it?

  * * * *

  Gunnar was in bed, asleep, when a touch to his chest woke him. His fangs slid from their sheaths as he lunged towards the threat.

  “Control yourself!” Ramiro yelled as Gunnar knocked him to the floor, landing on top of him.

  Blinking, Gunnar stared down at Ramiro. He released the hold he had on Ramiro’s neck. “What’re you doing sneaking up on me?”

  “I needed to talk to you,” Ramiro whispered.

  The confused expression on Ramiro’s face said it all. Gunnar swallowed around the lump in his throat. “What happened?” He slid off Ramiro to sit on the floor next to him.

  “I’m worried.”

  Although Gunnar hadn’t known Ramiro for long, he’d never seen the vampire so unsettled. “What about?”

  Ramiro sat up and rested his forearms on his bent knees. “I’m being put in the middle of two leaders. One I’ve sworn allegiance to, and another I have the utmost respect for.”

  “Neo and Ian?” Gunnar knew Ramiro was supposed to set up a meeting between the two.

  “Ian won’t discuss the sword. He said it was a gift from Faelan and had nothing to do with Morwyn.”

  “But you don’t believe him?” Gunnar ducked his head, trying to make eye contact with Ramiro. He wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but knew it would only lead to trouble.

  “I don’t know what to believe. Faelen’s like this God of mystery. He hasn’t even been seen or heard from since vampires came into existence. So it begs the question, is Ian telling the truth or is he lying to me because he knows I can’t verify his answer?”

  Out of nowhere, Ramiro growled and reached for the bed. He pulled a blanket to the floor before throwing it over Gunnar’s lap.

  Gunnar settled the blanket around his waist. His state of undress had been the least of his worries since Ramiro woke him. Although he refused to apologise, it was nice to know his nudity affected Ramiro even at a time of obvious distress. “Well, you’ll have to tell Neo Ian refuses to meet with him.”