“Swear it,” he purrs.
“I swear, I swear,” I say, looking over my shoulder where the mass of pigeons begins to descend on top of us. “Now open the damn door!”
The pigeons dive and we all press against the door. “Stryker!” I scream.
The door opens just before the pigeons can hit us and we all go tumbling inside. Stevie floats in after, lighting the dark stairwell as Stryker slams the door shut behind us. The sound of the pigeons slamming against the steel door echoes loudly as they shriek in fury. They don’t go away. They just keep hitting the door over and over again.
I’m panting, my heartbeat loud in my ears as I lay sprawled on the floor tangled with Locke and Havoc. “You fucking asshole,” I snarl up at Stryker where he stands over us.
He grins. “You wouldn’t have fed me otherwise.”
“You could have told someone,” I spit. “We could have figured something out.”
He shrugs. “This was much more fun.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “I hate you.”
His slow grin reveals the sharp canines in his mouth. “Good. Hate sex is the best sex.”
“I’m not fucking you,” I deny.
“No,” he purrs. “But you will be kissing me. You swore, remember?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re insufferable.” I reach my hand out. “Help me up and I’ll get it over with.”
He shakes his head. “I need to feed first.”
“Why?”
“Call it my nature,” he says, grinning. “If I kiss you while I’m hungry, I might do something your boy toys will kill me for. And I’m not ready to die yet.”
Locke sits up and pulls out his knife. “Here?—”
“Don’t,” Stryker hisses. “There’s no need to cut yourself, Boney Boy. I’m not some feral beast. Have some class.” He grabs Locke’s wrist and brings it up to his mouth. “Steel yourself.”
Locke rolls his eyes. “Just get it over with.”
Stryker grins and his eyes slam into mine as he holds Locke’s wrist close to his mouth. “As you wish,” he purrs and then flashes his fangs.
His eyes never leave mine as he sinks those teeth into Locke’s skin, as blood wells and he seals his lips around the wound.
Locke throws his head back and groans. “Fuck,” he moans, his other hand clenching in the material of his trousers.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, worried.
“No,” he starts to pant, his eyes flickering with hunger. “No.”
He reaches over and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, dragging me to him. His lips slam into mine, the kiss aggressive as his tongue dances with mine. His hand is tight on the back of my neck as he holds me to him, and then he starts to drag me onto his lap. I straddle his waist, his hard cock pressing against my core through our clothing as he starts to grind me down on him.
He breaks the kiss to tilt his head back again, his eyes closed. “Harrow, take me,” he pants, his fingers tight on me as he holds me to him.
“My turn,” Stryker coos as he moves around us.
I go to move off of Locke and he stops me, his hand on my shoulder.
“No, Beastie,” he purrs. “Stay right there.”
He strokes his fingers up my neck to my jaw, cupping it as he tilts my head backward while he kneels down beside Locke.
