Page 65 of Vengeful Mates

All this talk of fucking sweet cookies was making me hungry. For blood. For vengeance. For death.

“Four Twinkies sold.” Fuck. Another four cop vehicles were on our tail.

“I’ll deal with it.” I would have crushed the phone and disposed of the evidence in the field nearby if I didn’t need it for communication purposes.

“Anything else?” I growled, heating up all over, my body ready for war.

“That’s it for now.”

“Don’t double dip the cunts. Let ‘em sweat that we’re not coming for them.” Translation: don’t bail the cunts out. Make them sweat and think we left them to rot.

The lion was coming for the lamb. My men would sort out the traitor, and I’d be there to eat him.

CHAPTER22

Aaliyah

I blinkedand did a double take, worried I imagined things. Nope. Right the first time. Four bikers, cleaned up, crisp, and dashing in their fitted dark suits. Twice in a matter of months. Just call me the world’s luckiest girl.

I hummed my appreciation at my men for going to such an effort to dress up for tonight’s activity. Honestly, I thought Slade would insist on jeans, leather, and boots for dinner, earning a glare from our grumpy host. The contrast from rough bikers to groomed sex gods shocked me and sent a pleasantly surprised shiver through me, ending between my legs.

“You look so…” Words left me for a moment as a hot ball took space in my chest.

“Hot?” Slade tugged at his tie-less collar, which pinched his thick, inked neck. “Devilish? Fuckable? Deadly? Pick an adjective, Nurse A, preferably starting with D.”

I laughed, plucking his collar button open to let him breathe and feel comfortable. I tucked a curled lock behind my ear that Alaric helped me style since I was hopeless at using curling irons. This girl barely had time to learn when she buried herself in textbooks to study nursing and avoid all things parties, bikers, and bad boys. Working long shifts in the ER didn’t give me much time to learn either, and I came home exhausted.

Words to describe my men popped into my head. “Handsome. Surprising. Strippable.”Oops.No D words there.

“Exactly. Fuckable.” Slade cocked his finger and shot me with a Love god bullet that hit me in the heart and made me swoon.

My chest tightened with guilt, knowing five Jackals were trapped in the Bathurst Police’s cells since yesterday, after they were arrested under suspicion of drug trafficking. Slade was elated, despite the hit to the club, confident they found their leak. His strategy: leave them in jail to rot for a few days and one was bound to crack and rat out the mole.

Meanwhile, the Pharaoh was safely offloaded to the Jackals’ distributor and currently for sale. Afterwards, we celebrated the Lithgow chapter’s first run with a few beers. Sarah perked up in a better mood when let out of her dark and cold accommodations in the basement. Dash explained his reasoning for keeping her locked up and Slade accepted it, moving on but warning Alaric to keep an eye on them. The Lithgow president and his mate retired to their bedroom early and I suspected they might have consummated their matching after a few too many beers.

Go, them!

Alaric didn’t want to stay too long and party, eager to get back to Mia, and comfort me after my illness. I was a hot, sweaty mess, and my sweet mate held me all night, wiping hair from my forehead, dabbing my skin, and making me drink water.

Before getting ready for tonight, I gave myself a quick scan and healing, finding something different about my body. No amount of healing would fix this, and I didn’t want to apply magick to mess things up.

Alaric tugged at his grey lapel, did the Zoolander lips, strutting his stuff along the line of us, making Slade hoot and me cheer.

Damn. My four men. Tonight, it was just us. Mia stayed at Rusty’s and played with his kids. I drank my mates in, my gaze panning up and down their suited forms. They looked so different with their torso and arms hidden underneath fine wool jackets, a hint of ink on display at their collar lines, fingers, and wrists. Hair and beards brushed and slicked back. Decent and angelic came to mind. Maybe not for Slade, my devil in disguise as an angel.

I moved among them to better take them in, running my hand along Slade’s almond complexion, his chest and shoulders, practically bursting out of his clothes like damn Superman. Devilish indigo eyes practically undressed me. I tickled his sandy, trimmed beard and played with his neat, slicked-back hair. His dizzying scent made me swoon. Hot coals, molten steel, and whisky blended with spicy aftershave.

Castor wore his classic dark smirk, amber eyes eating me up, hair tied back for the first time ever, looking delectable in his tailored charcoal jacket, sporting a new, expensive watch and new kohl-stoned ring on his finger.

Alaric, dapper as always in his grey outfit, crisp lines and collar of his shirt and tie, shoes polished and shined. Sharp jaw and features, tanned skin, dark hair, and those mismatched gold and gray eyes. God, he reminded me of one of those inked, haunted Instagram models that some of my nurse colleagues followed and went on about at the water cooler.

Zethan, the most surprising in his black three-piece, light hair brushed, clutching a rose, offering it to me. My brutal man twisted his Jackals ring, clearly uncomfortable in the clothing, but wearing it for me. Piercing green eyes surveyed me, questioning if I was feeling up to tonight, given my troubled stomach.

Slade pulled me to his body, wormed a finger under the strap of my dress, and growled in my ear. “You smell good. What perfume are you wearing?”

I crushed my legs together, worried they might scent the growing change in me. My natural fragrance changed after Castor mated me. At first, I thought it modified because all four mates claimed me. Tonight’s surprise scan threw that theory out the window.

News I wasn’t ready to share with my mates yet. They needed to focus on catching Colton Raine. Telling them would add more stress to the mix and they couldn’t afford more distractions.

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