Two-Faced Fighting

Rideten, Present Time

Aislen was jolted awake when Talen shot out of the bed to the door. She was nicely nuzzled into Heath and Talen had been a warm spot against her back, his sudden moving causing a draught that was quickly filled when Cameron rolled over and snuggled up. She could hear Talen’s voice through the open door, and the reply of other voices on the other side.

Cameron’s hand cupped her breast and his cock nudged against her arse. He rocked his hips suggestively, still mostly asleep.

Heath tensed. “Fuck.”

“- leave in fifteen,” a woman spoke crisply and in a tone that said there would be no compromise. “Victor’s orders.”

“No,” Aislen pressed her face into Heath’s ribs. “Nonononono.”

“It’s retaliation,” he decided. “For last night.”

“It’s mean,” she grumbled. “Cruel.”

“No sex?” Cameron sat up. “That’s not fair.”

“You had sex last night. Good sex too, from the holes you left in the covers,” Heath pointed out.

“It was good sex,” Cameron was smug. He nudged Rhett. “Hey, wake up sleepy head.”

“I’m awake,” Rhett complained. “I’m just in denial.”

Talen leaned in the door. “We have ten minutes to move out,” he announced calmly. “We had best comply.”

“Shit,” Aislen rolled out of the bed, and then stopped and pressed her hand to her mouth.

“Fuck,” Cameron was on the move, grabbing her and hauling arse to the bathroom. He held back her hair whilst she vomited red into the toilet. “I thought we had gotten past this,” he apologized. “You haven’t vomited since being changed to hybrid.”

“Fuck,” Aislen gripped the toilet seat. “I thought I was done with that, too.”

“At least vomited blood smells better,” Rhett commented as he passed the bathroom door.

“Not helping.”

“Crackers aren’t a good idea,” Cameron said to Heath when their blood mate leaned against the doorframe. “Nor is ginger tea or anything like that. I don’t know what to do for her.”

“I do,” Talen, already fully dressed, eased Heath aside and placed Aislen’s clothes in his hands. “Get her dressed while she has some blood. It works with pregnant vampires if I remember correctly. Vampire blood, specifically. Hybrid ought to work.” He perched on the edge of the bathtub and drew Aislen back until she was between his thighs. “Cameron?”

“Sure,” Cameron held out his wrist, and Aislen cupped it in both hands as she bit into him. The taste of Cameron’s blood was better than the blood laced with bile that she had vomited and eased the burn of her throat left behind.

She could feel Talen’s hands in her hair, weaving and twisting it back with swift efficiency.

As soon as she released Cameron, Heath stepped in with her clothes, and crouched, naked, in order to pull on her underwear and jeans. “These are getting…” Snug was in his head as he did up the fly, but he caught himself shooting her a sheepish look through his eyelashes. “Worn out.”

“It’s unfair,” she grumbled as she lifted her arms so that he could pull on her top. “You’d think a blood-based diet would be all protein, no fat.”

“It is,” Talen was amused as he tied off her hair. “This is not weight gain, Morgana, but the life that grows within you.”

“I like you soft,” Heath added and then blanched, his face screwing up in a grimace. “I mean… You wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t curvy, Aislen. You have always been perfect in my eyes.”

“Oh stop,” she felt her cheeks heat because he meant it. He’d always enjoyed the way she looked, the way she felt when he embraced her, the contrast of her softness to the leaner, harder forms of his mates.

“But you are beginning to show,” he added, emboldened. “Which is reassuring.”

“Reassuring,” she repeated.

“I find it reassuring,” he expanded. “I worry.”

“Aww, Heath,” she melted because he spoke the truth. So much of his domineering behaviour stemmed from a deep sense of worry and responsibility. Fear, in fact, though she would never say so to his face… Or maybe she would if he pissed her off enough. But she wouldn’t say it whilst she was feeling nice.

Talen rose. “Heath, you should get dressed. If Aislen has recovered, we are on a deadline.”

“Shit,” Heath turned and blurred as he bolted for the bedroom.

“Luckily vampire speed compensates for chatty mates,” Talen paused by the mirror to run the c of his fingers and thumb over his beard. “I am looking less than I would like,” he announced. “Perhaps in Trayrock I will find a beard grooming kit.”

“Poor daddy,” Aislen wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him. “I think we’re all looking less than we like. I know I’ve never had as much underarm hair before as I do now, and Rhett hates that his chest hair is starting to obscure his art. We all need a spa day,” she giggled. “To get plucked and polished.”

“Hmm,” he laughed through his nose. “War is not kind to vanity, is it?”

There was a sharp knock on the door, and their conversation broke off as Rhett, his top bunching on his biceps as he scraped his hair back into a ponytail, strolled unhurriedly over to answer it. The person on the other side knocked against it impatiently.

“Alright, alright,” Rhett rolled his eyes and pulled open the door. “We’re coming,” he told the man on the other side as he opened his mouth. “Aren’t we?” Rhett glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m done,” Cameron was still doing up his belt. “Heath?”

“Mmm,” Heath smoothed his hands down his top. “Could do with an iron.”

“Is it worth taking the bags?” Cameron paused by them. “They’re pretty empty. We’re wearing what was in them.”

“Shit,” Aislen realized that he was telling the truth. “I am not wearing khaki,” she said firmly.

“We will have to find somewhere in Trayrock,” Rhett agreed. “Because fuck khaki.”

“It would be best to have this conversation en route,” Talen placed a hand on the small of Cameron and Aislen’s backs and encouraged them forward. “Our guide is about to implode with impatience.”

There was not much chance to talk. The hallways of the bunker were silent and still in the very early morning, and although Aislen knew that the walls were thick, everyone stayed quiet with the sort of uneasy hush of wandering hotel halls knowing that other guests slept.

They were brought up to a house further down the block from their entry point, making Aislen wonder just how many houses in the area the pack owned. They were separated into five vehicles, each of different makes, colors, and carrying capacity. The dragons and Heath insisted on travelling with Aislen, which meant that they were placed in the back of a soldier-driven mini-van that had been stolen from a family with young kids, as Heath had to impatiently tear free two child seats and throw them out to make room, and Aislen found someone’s much-loved teddy squashed between the seats.

“We’ll have to do things like this,” she realized as she took her seat.

“Like what?” He was distracted, leaning out the still-open door to note which vehicles their other mates got into.

“Car seats and mini-vans.”

“Yeah,” he slid the door shut and eased into the seat next to her, his long legs hanging into the little walkway, and his hand casually braced against the back of the seat before them. The dragons were positioned directly behind them, and Aislen heard Samuel murmur something under his breath and Ember laughed, her voice low.

The scent of apple sauce rose, and Aislen grimaced. “Apple sauce. Why does it smell so disgusting now? I liked apple sauce.”

“Here,” Heath pulled a crunched-up packet of nappy wipes out of a bag pushed under the seat before them and passed it back. “Oh, and…” His rummage in the bag had turned up a neat packet of plastic nappy-bags.

“Thanks,” Samuel reached forward. “Some sort of tube of mush was between the chair and the wall.”

“Baby food,” Heath supplied. “Probably rotten.”

“Smells rotten,” Aislen agreed.

“And yes,” Heath reached out and gave Aislen’s knee a squeeze. “We will have to do things like this. I look forward to doing things like this. For starters, can you imagine Rhett’s face when he needs to drive the mini-van?”

Aislen burst into laughter, smothering it against Heath’s shoulder as the werewolf soldiers entered the front seats and started the engine.

Their route took them past the church – something which slowed progress considerably, as vehicles were obstructing their path, and pedestrians gathered in between staring aghast at the bodies decorating the rooves and trees.

“Shish kabob,” Heath murmured, his eyes glued to the window. “Well,” he pulled his gaze free. “I think our night’s efforts were a success.”

“Yes,” Aislen reached out and took his hand. “It was a good thing, Heath,” she said firmly. “Despite Victor’s reservations. Just look at how shaken those Van Helsings look,” she gestured with her chin at a small group who were trying to control the crowd. “They need to realize that the supernatural world won’t just roll over and show our belly. And when we fight, it’s with tooth and claw.”

“Damned right,” one of the soldiers from the front agreed wholeheartedly. “They picked a fight, now they’ll have to damn well fight it.”

“We will fight it,” Heath vowed quietly. “But in the shadows, Aislen,” he glanced at her. “And out of the view of cameras. Let’s show the reporters one face, and our enemy the other.”