Free Eternal Blood: The Mark of the Vampire by Laura Wright Page B

effort.”
    Realizing he hadn’t killed Gray’s pluck as he’d hoped, Riordon snorted with disgust and turned away. “This is bullshit. He’s bullshit.”
    “How about a break?” Piper asked, her pale lavender eyes bright with concern.
    “We don’t have time for breaks,” said the male to her right—and to Gray’s left. “This needs to get done, get settled so we can continue our fight.”
    The third member of the small but powerful vampiric coven was nearly as intense as the first, but where Riordon was powerful and solid, milk-white skin over icy hard muscle, Vincent Seal sported long, lean athleticism wrapped up in dark caramel skin, eyes and hair.
    “I think we all need to chill out,” Piper said, her eyes still connecting with Gray as though she were trying to read his mind, though her gifts were more akin to changing the thoughts of others. “He’s just getting his feet wet here.”
    His feet, Gray thought bitterly, glancing down. Where his feet had once been planted in the posh living quarters of the Roman brothers’ household, they were now uncertainly tap dancing around a circle of red color and interwoven lines; the symbol of what he had come to realize was the Impure resistance, inside a sparsely furnished, unromantic warehouse space in the Bronx. It was the real deal here. No Ethan Dare plotting and sex parties—no Impures laid out on cushy mats and pillows as they attempted to bump and grind their way to respect and equality with the Pureblood communities they served. This was real . . . and raw, and blatantly stated that there was work to be done.
    After leaving the Romans, Gray hadn’t gone looking for these three gifted Impure warriors. He had been on the hunt for a purpose to his life, true—but he had been hoping to find a group of similar minded Impures, ready to band together and plan for the future. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on the outcome, Piper, Riordon and Vincent had found him first, convinced him that he belonged with them, to them—and to the cause he truly sought.
    Granted, the three of them had mental gifts that Gray could understand and relate to, but he wasn’t altogether certain he wanted a part of whatever they were planning.
    He stared at the symbol carved into the floor at their feet. Four coiled snakes with fangs extended. They had used their own blood to paint the symbol. It was their talisman, they said. It helped them both invoke power and calm their minds.
    These three vipers.
    And he was supposed to be their fourth.
    A force that may be able to withstand the powers of the Order.
    “His feet are as wet as they’re going to get,” Riordon said, snapping Gray from his thoughts.
    “I say you get your head in the game or get out, Donohue.”
    “Fuck you,” Gray uttered, stepping back, out of the circle—out of their line of fire. “You push too hard, too far. I’m working on it, okay!” Working on deciding if he wanted to walk through this door or not, give in to another who wanted access to his brain.
    Vincent shook his head. “You know nothing of work, Gray. Not yet.” He turned to Riordon. “And no matter how much he irritates us, he’s not going anywhere. He will remain and watch us—see what we can do without him—then perhaps later he will join us to see—”
    “What we can do WITH him,” Piper finished, giving the male a slash of a grin.
    Vincent’s dark brow lifted. “Finishing my sentences again, Pip? Makes me feel like we’re still together.”
    “Just a bad habit, Sweets. One I’m really trying to kick—just like I did our relationship.”
    “Thank Christ,” Riordon uttered. “Don’t need those images in my head again.”
    Gray shoved his arms in his jacket. “I hate to interrupt the trip down memory lane, but maybe you could give me a clue as to what you’re planning. Not just that bullshit pat answer about gaining equality within the Breed.” He eyeballed each one of them. “I want details.”
    Piper shook