Dark Reign 4: Fight or Flight
by Mychael Black
Being a pariah is a burden no man should have to bear, but for Eric Salvatore, it’s brutal reality.
My name is Daniel Hughes. I’ve been living under the protection of Marcus Deleon and his pack for several years, and let me tell you, it’s a lonely life. Then Marcus’ vampiric lover, Jordan Silva, introduces me to his best friend, a vampire named Eric Salvatore. Keeping our hands off of one another proves impossible, but there are secrets that Eric carries which could destroy him. I’m not about to let that happen.
Meting out justice on the vampires who attacked him years ago is the easy part. Dealing with the fallout when the pack discovers the truth about Eric? That’s another problem altogether. But I refuse to give up on him… even when he should never have existed.
“Have you seen him?”
“The new one? I heard someone say he’s dangerous.”
I ignored the gossipers and continued down the street, eager
to get home. I loved my bartending job, but after ten hours of being on my feet
and filling drink orders for only God knew how many drunk men and women, I was
done. Things were safer now, though. We no longer had to worry about Dalton
Gray trying to steal the young ones or hunt the older ones. Hell, Marcus Deleon
— the leader of our little family — had even taken a vampire lover.
Not for me, thanks. I kinda liked my blood where it was: in
my body. Not that Jordan Silva wasn’t cute, because he was. I just didn’t go
for the whole bloodsucking thing. Then again, here lately, I didn’t go for any
sucking thing.
With Dalton dead and others of his ilk keeping a safe
distance after the fact, weres like myself could move around freely without
worrying about kidnapping — or worse. Of course, that also meant that normal
humans now tried to pick a few of us up for a fling here and there, but even
that slowed when humans realized most of us mated for life. Me, I avoided
anything resembling casual sex. I had no desire whatsoever to risk becoming
attached to someone who may or may not stick around. My hand and a trunk full
of toys were more than enough to keep my heart intact.
As I reached the front gate of the mansion, it swung open. I
nodded to the night guard and headed up the driveway. A few lights shone in the
windows, which wasn’t such a big deal, but the front door stood ajar, too.
Curious and a touch wary, I slowed down, approaching the house with a bit more
caution.
A figure stepped into the door frame and relief washed
through me when I recognized Jordan Silva. Before I got to the door, however,
another form took shape right in front of Jordan — out of thin air.
Long, straight black hair fell over broad shoulders, and an
ankle-length black trench coat just barely hid the man’s muscular frame. When
he moved, light glinted off something slender and steel. Jordan laughed and
hugged the man. Then they went into the house.
I followed, intrigued. The two of them had disappeared, but
I heard laughter and Marcus’ deep voice welcoming the newcomer. I wondered if
the women I’d overheard on the walk home had been talking about our mysterious
guest. He certainly fit the “dangerous” bill, if what I’d seen was
indeed a sword. Who the hell walked around with swords anymore?
Spying Geoff down the hall, I headed for the man before he
could disappear into the room he shared with his lover, AJ. Although the human
was blind, Geoff’s wolf was not. The man was also incredibly intuitive.
“Hey,” I said, hurrying to catch him. “Who
was that?”
Geoff glanced in the direction of Marcus’ office, which
meant he used a bit of the wolf’s energy to see. “Oh, him? Friend of
Jordan’s, I think. Eric something.” He grinned and leaned against the
door. “Why? Interested?”
“No! I just…” I scowled at him, though whether he
could still see me was up for debate. Letting the wolf’s vision through took a
good bit of his energy. “Besides, I only saw his back, which, I might add,
was covered in a trench coat.”
Geoff leaned in and whispered, “Wait until you see his
face.”
“This coming from a blind wolf who, funny enough, only
has eyes for one guy.”
Geoff laughed. “Yes, well, even AJ thinks the guy’s hot
as sin. Unfortunately, he’s straight, as far as I know.”
“Probably for the best,” I muttered as I headed
for my room.
My bedroom acted as a sort of refuge, and I took great
delight in shutting out Geoff’s chuckles. We’d been friends for years —
twelve, to be exact — and he found it incredibly amusing that I refused the
notion of casual sex. While many of our kind mated for life, several within
Marcus Deleon’s house enjoyed fucking for the hell of it — no relationships
needed. Geoff had been like that once, until he’d caught wind of AJ. Hell, he’d
been the one to save AJ from certain death after Dalton Gray nearly beat the life
out of the poor man.
I, however, wanted something different. I just didn’t have a
clue what, beyond someone I could come home to every night. Stripping off my
clothes and heading for the bathroom, I wondered if I’d ever find that
particular someone. I was pushing thirty, and for a shapeshifter, that was a
bit old to be mateless.
I got the water started and stepped into the shower, tugging
the curtain closed. The hot water felt amazing as it rained down onto my back,
loosening muscles and draining tension away. I loved my job, but it was
exhausting.
Images of random men I’d met throughout the night filtered
through my mind. Hot, muscled, sexy. While my head and heart had no intention
of going for casual sex, my dick certainly didn’t mind it. Bracing myself with
one hand on the tiled wall, I stroked myself with the other. I thought about
the hot bear of a guy who’d ordered a round of shots for himself and his cub. I
imagined the two of them, sweaty and panting, the cub on his knees, his bear’s
thick cock pistoning in and out of his lips.
“Fuck…” I pumped my cock faster.
The picture in my head morphed into another, this one dark,
dangerous, a flash of steel, the metallic sound of metal on metal. Long,
straight black hair hid the man’s face, but those biceps flexed with every
swing of the sword. Strong legs, hard torso…
“Oh, God…” I moaned and shot my load onto the
shower wall. Christ! Vampire or not, the man had burrowed his way into my
imagination, and I hadn’t even seen his face.
What do online gaming, Spongebob, cooking, writing, and an unnatural addiction to Mountain Dew all have in common?
Not a damn thing, which is what makes Mychael Black an interesting bird indeed.
Born in north Alabama, Mychael now resides on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. Having run the gamut of labels in regard to gender and sexuality, Mychael now shuns society’s views on normality and embraces a poly-everything attitude. Call Mychael her or him—it doesn’t matter. Just keep reading the books.
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