Free Sanibel Seduction - Vampire Werewolf Menage (Fanged Romance Series Book Four) by Talyn Scott Page B

here locked away by you.” He ran a fingertip down some loosening mortar anchoring less than solid stones. Apparently, the Captiva Coven didn’t run this operation. Maestru wouldn’t have such shoddy prisons erected. He did it right, or he didn’t do it, at least structurally – not so much ethically. “Talking about crossing lines you shouldn’t. Really shouldn’t.”
    “Monstrosities like you shouldn’t walk the streets.”
    “Said one species to another,” Sayer said carefully, weighing his words. “When in glass houses, how can one monster throw a stone without hitting the other?” Even humans could be monsters, especially against their own young. Where was his captor going with this? Unless. “Ah, monsters that you call aliens.”
    “Aren’t you?” He said turning slightly as the one called Collin entered. “An alien, I mean.”
    “Oh, now I’m feeling stupid,” he laughed mechanically, pressing his forehead against his palm. “I thought I was dealing with some dark vendetta between our factions when all my imprisonment amounts to is a simple case of bigotry.” Therefore, he would die painfully unless he escaped.
    “Bigotry doesn’t count when dealing with aliens,” Tare sneered while Collin remained deathly quiet. “You are an abomination, not a race. Your kind will be stamped out and soon.”
    Apparently, Tare didn’t read his history tomes. Toppling a race never worked out for those doing the toppling. “You’re keeping me here to find out if there are other Habalines wandering before you kill me, then?” Nothing made sense. Habalines were everywhere.
    “Not pure Habalines. That’s a wasted effort. But Habalines bred with Species Vampires. You,” he said while wagging his finger. “You’re even worse. Throwing in werewolves with your genetics makes you the most dangerous: part Species Vampire, part Habaline Shapeshifter and part werewolf. You were cultivated by a modern-day mad scientist.”
    Sayer couldn’t argue with that. Growing up in a breeding camp wasn’t something he wished on his worst enemy, until now. “I’m told the mad scientist is now dead,” he muttered absently, “killed in Fort Myers.”
    “You’re a freak of nature,” Tare continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Volatile and easily enraged, this world doesn’t need your kind prowling the streets and reproducing.”
    Still wasn’t making sense. But he refused to ask what made this vampire the judge, jury, and executioner of Habaline mixed-bloods everywhere. Tare’s adrenalin was spiking and now wasn’t the time to push. “So long as you’ve got it all worked out,” Sayer said, settling on the bare mattress making up his bed. Imprisoned by a lunatic with a hard-on for killing those of his kind, what more could he ask for? He hadn’t scented his Azure anywhere close by, so he didn’t think she was a captive here, and he refused to ask Tare about her. Why give him any more ideas where she was concerned?
    “Habalines pack hunt. More of your kind – those mixed that shouldn’t be – will come out looking for you. You are bait .”
    Creatures had called Sayer worse. “I belong to the North American Werewolf Pack. All members voted me in, accepted me with open arms when I was freed from a breeding camp in Scotland.” He’d spent the first twenty-one years of his life fighting an isolated, lonely existence. When he finally found his female, vampires knocked Sayer off course before he could sink into her, claiming her for all time. I will get back to you, my blessed Azure with the golden eyes.
    “I always say werewolves are fools. Think with their dicks and brawn on most occasions.” Tare tacked on, “Scarcely with their brains. You stand before me proving that. They should have put you down.”
    Sayer wouldn’t continue this conversation unless his life truly depended on it. He had to maintain what was left of his health for Azure’s sake. Get to her when the moment presented itself. And arguing