The Devil's Wolf

"Yes?" She called out, surprised. Elior would not knock before entering, and Jacinta had already proved that she had no regard for Ashlynn's privacy, which meant it had to be one of the other two vampires, both of whom had shown next to no interest in her whatsoever.

Nate opened the door and stepped into the room. He carried a small black case in one hand. "Elior sent me to draw blood."

"He did, did he?" She raised her eyebrows. "Whatever for?"

Elior had told his children that her blood held the same properties as her mother's. She tried to decide if she felt that a betrayal, or not.

"We have found that refrigerating the font's blood reduces the side effects significantly," Nate knelt on the carpet next to where she sat and opened the black case. There was a syringe, tubing, tourniquet, and hygienically sealed needles within. "It is not as pleasant to consume, and the longevity is somewhat affected when we do so, however sometimes it is desirable to avoid becoming intoxicated."

She wondered if refrigeration would prevent them experiencing the arousal that Elior had felt, and hoped so. She had no desire to become the focus of three more horny vampires. She drew the line at threesomes, over three bodies in the bed and there was simply too many limbs, in her opinion.

There was a pocket within the case, from which Nate withdrew a dozen small bags.

"I hope you are not planning on filling all those," she complained. "I am not an all you can eat buffet, I need some blood left behind."

"Just three bags." One for each child went without saying. Elior would drink from her, then, she thought, and liked that idea. A horny, intoxicated Elior was very enjoyable in bed.

Nate assembled the equipment and held out the tourniquet, raising his eyes to her face, waiting. She sighed and held out her arm to him. He slid the tourniquet into position and used his finger to locate a vein.

"Do you do this with my mother?" She wondered watching in fascination as he inserted the needle with expertise and released the tourniquet so that the blood curled through the tubing, filling one of the bags.

"Your mother has someone in the pack who collects her donations to us," Nate replied. "I have not seen the font since Armageddon."

"How did you learn to do this?" She asked him, intrigued.

"I was a medic with the army," he seemed surprised when he answered, flicking a look at her and then frowning. "Many years ago, before Elior turned me. More years ago than you have been alive."

She wondered what war he had been in. He had the look in his eyes of a man who had seen too much of the brutality of battle and was still haunted by what he had encountered there, which, considering the violence of vampires in general, she thought, said everything there was to be said about human wars.

"What is happening?" She indicated with her head towards the living area, changing the subject for him. "Elior seemed unhappy."

"There seems to be three positions forming," Nate switched the bags smoothly, without losing a drop of blood. "Those against us, those with us, and those that want to sit back and watch what unfolds. Elior is attempting to push those that would watch into taking sides."

"How is that going?"

"Cowards will always be cowardly. Even when he manages to persuade them, they often change their minds once off the call. It is a wasted endeavor. Elior perseveres because he feels the alternative to be more damaging long term than taking the time now."

"What is the alternative?"

Nate watched the second bag fill. "It is a vampire secret."

"Elior is my mate, surely that makes me an honorary vampire?" She suggested hopefully.

He smiled, amused. "Honorary is not vampire. If Elior chooses to tell you, that is his prerogative, but I would be out of line to do so." He switched to the third bag.

"So, what happens next?" She decided to pursue another line of inquiry. "How are we leaving here?"

"Submarine."He flicked her another look as if wondering why he had answered her question and regretting it.

"Submarine," her eyebrows lifted. "Whose submarine?"

"Ours," Elior leaned against the door frame.

"Ours, as in...? Our country?"

"No. As in, vampires." Elior watched the bag slowly fill. "I have spent the last twenty years building vampire military resources in anticipation of a human uprising. We have the ability to strike back at those who attack us. We have the armies, and the weaponry.

"But to do so would justify their actions, make it more difficult to negotiate peace, and sway many of those that would prefer to sit on the fence into taking arms against us.

"Winning a war is only half the battle," he concluded. "And if we are forced to win it the wrong way, the future that will result in is not one I want to live in." "What future is that?"

Nate held a piece of gauze in place as he removed the needle. "Hold," he instructed replacing his finger with hers.

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"If we use our military against the humans, they will believe that their fears are correct, and that vampires mean to oppress them. They will combine forces in an effort to eradicate us completely before we can do so. "And," Elior moved to the side to let Nate pass by. "In order to avoid perpetual war, and potential defeat, vampires would have to become exactly what the humans fear."

She realized what he was saying. "You will need to make them slaves."

"Basically, yes. It will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I want to avoid that," a muscle worked in the corner of his jaw and the set of his mouth was grim. "If I can."

As evening fell, the vampires gathered, both Elior's children from within and around the house, and the carload that had accompanied them.

These other vampires seemed to appear from multiple directions and Ashlynn wondered if they had been guarding the perimeter of the safe house. They slid glances at her when they thought she was not looking, intrigued by her presence. Ashlynn did not have the opportunity to quiz Elior on their reappearance. His phone calls seemed without end. There was a tone to his voice that alerted her to the fact that whilst the calls may be unending, Elior's patience and energy were not.

Her vampire was weary and disheartened, and beginning to feel the sharp edges of his position.

The 4WD's were pulled out of the garage, and Ashlynn watched the sky for some sign of Cael as she got into one of the cars, sandwiched again between Elior and Nate.

They drove to the coast, where a tiny town crouched around a jetty that projected into the ocean, a bridge between land and sea. They walked down this wooden pier, to two row boats.

Rebecca, the designated driver, manipulated their boat through the water, but as they coasted into the darkness, Ashlynn saw hands reach out of the midnight waves and catch onto the edge of the boats, hair streaming out behind.

Mer.

She leaned over the edge of the boat, fascinated, and met the eyes of man beneath the ripples of the water. His eyes were entirely dominated by his Other, vividly green and gold, and fins fanned out from his arms. The flick of his tail sprayed water over her. His hand reached up and closed on hers, over the lip of the boat.

"No," Elior freed her hand, and took it in his. He pulled her away from the edge of the boat. "No Ashlynn. We already have one more body than is usual in this relationship, let's not complicate it further."

She stared at him in bewilderment. "You make it sound as if I chose to have two mates."

He met her eyes, his gaze measured. "I don't believe it was a choice," he said.

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"What did you mean, then?" Her eyes narrowed. "Because it sounded like... I don't know what it sounded like, but it didn't sound good."

"I think," he drew in a breath, bracing himself. "I think that you might be more receptive to potential mates than your average Other," he said tightly. "You were exposed to a... whatever he is," he flicked his eyes heavenward. "And then to me and bonded to both. I simply meant that I don't want to test the limits of your receptiveness."

"You think..." Oh god, she swallowed as she considered his words. "I'm an Other slut."

"No," he laughed a little ruefully. "Not exactly. But let's not add a Mer connection, hm? Beds only come in certain sizes, and there will be a point where there are just too many limbs for either of us to contend with."

"Oh, god," she was appalled. There was a dreadful truth to his words. "How do I stop?"

"Your mother seemed to fixate on your father, and stop thereafter," he shrugged. "I am hoping that between the winged man and I, we can satisfy you."

"I am an insatiable sex queen," she muttered.

"Not insatiable," Elior was amused. "I'm quite sure I've quenched your appetites at least twice."

"F-k," she flushed and leaned her forehead against his chest. "I am so embarrassed."

"We are programmed for survival," he said very reasonably. "Whatever you are, the survival techniques are highly developed. That is all. You quickly identify compatible, fertile males, and connect with them. I don't mind sharing you with one other, but I am not a fan of harems," he stroked his fingers through her hair. "And I am too selfish to be in one. Three people in the relationship is my personal tolerance."

"Three is... plenty." She said firmly. If only she could communicate that to her biology. "How do I stop further connections?"

"I am not an expert, but I would suggest staying away from the mer, full stop. They have a reputation for seduction." His suggestion was phrased mildly, but his grip on her disputed the casualness of his suggestion.

"I didn't connect with any werewolves," she murmured thinking of Archer. "Or, at least, he didn't connect with me."

"Or humans either," he pointed out. "So, it is not random."

"It has to be my fated mates," she decided. "And the others were not."

"Whatever inexplicable thing it is that causes a person to be a mate, and another not, perhaps."

The submarine rose out of the water ahead of them like a sea monster, ending the conversation. There were vampires standing on the surface of the boat, and they reached out to help Elior's party up.