Shadow Guardians: The Beast

“Yeah, sure, no prob. But you better haul your asses back here because I’m making a roast. Yeah. Uh-huh. Oh really? Showed off again, did he?” Ophie laughed softly as she browned onions and mushrooms for gravy. “Alright. She’s restless, been kicking up a storm in here today. I will. I love you too, babe. Bye.”

Katherine smiled at the tenderness with which Ophie crooned over the phone as she peeled potatoes. A whole sack of the stuff. The kitchen smelled like roast lamb and garlic. Lots of garlic. And she wouldn’t be able to eat any of it. But she was enjoying the company with Ophie, and wow, the female was an awesome cook. Even in her hay days of eating real food that didn’t come in a blue and white container and didn’t just have to be mixed with water, Katherine couldn’t muster much except boiling eggs.

But she was probably going to have to learn from Ophielia, because apparently vampire males had big appetites. Or, one of them did. Hers. Apart from the roast, there was already a pasta dish and a meatball casserole going.

It was a lovely feeling to be in the kitchen with another female cooking up a storm. And while the servants could very well make the meals, Ophie liked cooking because it kept her busy. Zachiel won’t let her fight alongside him because she’s pregnant, even if she were wholly able.

There was love and warmth in the way they were preparing the meal—a peacefulness that Katherine hadn’t had a whole lot of in her life. She marveled at the fact that, in contrast to the turmoil of her previous life, peeling potatoes was such a humble and gratifying task.

“They’re going out for drinks first. But they’ll be home for dinner.” Ophie said, bending to check on the roast in the oven.

“It’s such a normal guy-thing. I mean, they’re just going out for drinks. You’d never know they were ass-kicking demon slayers.”

“They are guys. In every sense of the word. This is just a different kind of normal, isn’t it? They’re just brothers, having a fun night out.”

“Don’t you,” Katherine cleared her throat, “Don’t you worry about...other women?”

Ophie laughed. “Bonded males only take one woman at a time. The connection is soul-deep and unyielding.” She paused while she cut bell peppers. “You’re lucky, actually, or Magnus is. I’m not sure which one it is. He lost his female, and it’s a miracle he bonded with another.”

Katherine slowed her pace of peeling. “He was mated before?” He didn’t tell her this.

“It was centuries ago. Her name was Ramona. They used to fight side by side, then she was slain by a demon. She went out on her own without even telling him. It broke him. And usually, when males lose their mates like that, they never bond again because they can’t get over them.”

Katherine suddenly felt very second-hand, like she might not be able to live up to his expectations.

Gods, get over yourself. It was centuries ago. The woman’s dead, for goodness sake.

She snorted at her own ridiculousness.

“What’s funny?” Ophie asked.

Katherine shook her head. No way was she going to tell her she had just become jealous of a woman who had been dead for centuries. “Nothing.” How despicable of her. “He must’ve been a wreck.”

Jealousy gave way to anger. Why would she just leave him like that? If his possessiveness over her was anything to go by, the guy didn’t handle being away from his woman too well. He would’ve been worried sick about Ramona.

“He nearly killed himself.” The knife dropped behind Ophie, but she knew Katherine didn’t hurt herself. The smell of her blood wasn’t open and strong.

She continued. Maybe it was a warning as much as a prayer. Katherine was still new, and she, Ophie, cared very much about Magnus, just like his brothers. “So you’d better take care, Kathy. Because he won’t survive it a second time. Gods, most bonded males don’t survive it the first time.”

There was a few minutes of silence, then the knife started slicing behind her again.

“Could it,” Katherine cleared her throat. “Could it just have been Ramona?”

Ophie turned so she could look her dead in the eyes. “Males mate with one female for life. It’s been that way since the very beginning. Since our creation. When something upsets that natural balance, it’s like they lose their purpose in life. You understand what I’m saying?”

Katherine nodded. Gosh, she was such a fool for even that little prick of jealousy. Now she was even more fearful of the transition. Because she might die, and Magnus would be alone again. And…he might not make it alone. She struggled to swallow past a painful lump. But then, maybe that was good motivation for her to fight death. It all depended on perspective, didn’t it?

A little later, once all the food was finished, she and Ophie sat at the long, light wood dining table with its high-backed velvet purple chairs. The dining room had high ceilings, the paneled walls were black and boasted a Victorian-era style with some abstract paintings adding a modern twist, and the trimmings were gold. The focal point was really the spiraling chandelier above the table, from which delicate crystal teardrops hung.

And then the doors burst open, and a flood of laughter came in through them.

“Get the hell away from me with that stuff!”

Katherine leaned back in her chair to look through the passage that led into the vestibule of the upper floor.

Draven was running away from Magnus and Zachiel. His face was smeared with something that looked like mud. He spit like he had some of the stuff in his mouth, and the other two brothers were cracking up as they chased him through the hallways.

“Hey! Come back here, Cassanova! We’re gonna make a man out of you!” Magnus shouted after him, and Katherine felt a little warm tingle at the power of his voice.

They ran after him and disappeared around the corner.

Katherine giggled. “I don’t think they saw us, or they’re even interested in food right now.”

“They’ll show once the game’s over, don’t you worry. They have to make time to eat around 5000 calories a day.”

It was so heartwarming, Katherine thought, the family vibe that went on between the three brothers. And even though they didn’t mix much with the nosferi, she knew it was the same between them on the lower levels. Family is something she hadn’t ever known but wished for. She’d always been something of an outsider, even among people who were very close to her. They only remained close for a few years at a time. But she felt a truer bond with Ophelia; perhaps it was because she was the only other female around who understood what it was to be mated to a male vampire. And hell, they were just a trio of really big, scary-ass-looking boys right now. Playing with mud, of all things, or something. And all full of ash and smelling of the demons they killed.

Eventually, the men made it to the dining room after having properly cleaned themselves up. Ophie rose from her seat, and Zachiel took her into his arms. Katherine didn’t quite see what exactly they were doing because, before she knew it, she was in the same position. Magnus’ embrace was like a cocoon of warmth and safety, and his kiss was dark velvet. His own bonding scent, mixed with his shower gel, went into her nose and rushed through her in a delightful warmth. And it was over way too soon for her liking, only because of Draven, who’d sat himself down across the table and cleared his throat when Zachiel and Ophelia broke their kiss.

“Ah man, don’t stop because of me, guys. I’m enjoying the show,” he smirked cockily, fangs flashing. “Man, this is even better than Stephan’s DVDs.”

“Manners, Draven.” Ophelia scolded teasingly, then rang the bell so the servants would bring in dinner.

Katherine stared at the food, not knowing what she could and couldn’t eat. She considered just skipping the food. She wasn’t that hungry anyway. Magnus piled his plate high with enough food to feed five men. But props to him; he ate with genteel grace. Katherine had noticed it about him before. He had a specific order in which he ate his food, starting with the vegetable-like dishes, then going to protein, then carbohydrates. Sometimes he would stop after one bite and add extra salt or pepper.

And before she knew what was happening, he’d taken her empty plate and started serving her rice and mashed potatoes. He placed the plate in front of her, like it was a perfectly normal thing for a man, er, male, to dish up for his female. It was a strange thing to have someone care so much about her.

And she was much too focused on him to remember to eat properly. He was wearing a black t-shirt and loose-fitting black linen pants, super casual. She observed how the strong bones and protruding veins in his forearms moved when he sliced into meat, even watched how his jaw moved as he chewed and how his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in that thickly muscled neck when he swallowed. He took a sip of red wine, and she imagined for a moment that it was blood he was drinking and how it would be to taste it on his tongue when he kissed her—a sweet, invigorating taste. She frowned at herself. Like she knew what the heck blood tasted like. Hell, she was turning his eating into an sexual act in her mind.

His teal eyes found her, and the corners of that beautifully sculpted mouth drew up. “Eat, meeran. We’ll go to the bedroom after dinner.” He said softly, only loud enough for her to hear it over the drone of the conversation between the other three.

She flushed and abruptly snapped her eyes down at her neatly piled and as yet untouched mashed potatoes. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair, feeling the lushness that had grown down low. Suddenly, it was hard to stop the train of thought. She imagined those big rough hands stroking over her breasts, her ribs, fanned over her stomach, strong arms holding her thighs in place as he... oh god, as he put his mouth to her, the whiskers of his stubble scratching tender flesh.

Suddenly his hand was on hers, and it shocked her out of the fantasy. Her gaze shot to him. His face was ravenous, with a need that no amount of food could fill. Oh heck, I’d forgotten he could read my mind. And clearly he’d read that thought too, because he smiled mischievously. He took her hand and guided it down below the table. He placed it neatly on the top of his muscular thigh. Katherine couldn’t resist the temptation. As the other three were engaged deep in conversation about the kind of fighting that went on that night, her hand glided up Magnus’ muscular thigh. She swallowed, then headed home. And bit her lower lip.

They suffered in silence through dinner and then abruptly excused themselves from social activities to go to the bedroom.

Once the door shut behind them, clothes flew in a craze of tangled hands while mouths were locked. His tongue wove with her own in velvet warmth. He pressed her against the wall while his hands roamed over her breasts and her ribs. “I want to taste you,” he said gruffly, wondering if he would ever be able to breathe again without her.

“Yes,” she exhaled, her head arching back against the wall.

He cupped her, a warm, rough hand against tender flesh, the touch sending a hot wave of pleasure through them.

His mouth left a trail down her torso, over her ribs, gliding towards her bellybutton, then to her hipbone. On his knees before her, he lifted her leg over his shoulder and held onto her hips. He looked up to her, and she swore the expression he wore was akin to worship, even begging.

And then he dove into her, his warm mouth closing around her. Her knees nearly buckled. Already her lower body began to tremble, but he held her tightly in place while her fingers dug into his scalp.

He worked her up to near peak over and over again. She saw nothing but stars, while her lower belly tightened from the onslaught of euphoria on her senses. Her nostrils were filled with that dark, bonding scent. It was so thick in the room that she might’ve been able to pull her fingers through it and leave trails.

And then his tongue found a tender spot that promised release. A silent scream flew from her lips as the tightly coiled control in her core released. Lightning shattered her while he held her up. He came back up, grinning satisfactorily, and held her steady because she was liquid and swept away. And in that languid state, she had an idea that simmered the heat all over again.

He picked her up like she weighed nothing, then took her over to the bed. She moved onto her hands and knees, drove her hips back, wanting.

He placed his hands on her hips, then plunged. Breath left them. He leaned forward, his chest on her back, strong arms with bulging veins supporting himself with fisted hands by her sides. She was so small compared to him that he almost thought if he could curl into a ball around her, no one would even know she was there.

She cried out when she convulsed around him, his irises flashed red before his eyes squeezed shut. His frame trembled and he allowed himself to be pulled over the edge with her.

The hung out like that, too limp to move.

"I think we both need a bath, how ’bout that?”

“That sounds lovely,” she agreed.

They bathed in lavender-scented water, lovingly washed one another, and then slipped in beneath the sheets just as the shutters closed for daylight, a tangle of limbs and skin and profound love that she never thought was possible in her old life.