Adres reached up and tore his scarf away, revealing a mature, handsome face. Of course, he didn’t have the flawless beauty of a young vampire, and he also didn’t have Wick’s classic gorgeousness. No, Adres Cavalerie had a full mix of gray and black hair that wasn’t styled in any particular direction. The sides had been shaved so close that Bell noticed a protruding scar on his skull that ran from the top of his earlobe to the back of his neck. It had to have been an injury he’d barely survived. He had creases in the corners of his haunted, onyx eyes and around his mouth. Bell was intrigued to be standing before a legendary horseman.
Mac shifted and stood to his full height, towering over Adres, trembling with holding his anger in check. “I wasn’t judging you. I was letting my family know the kind of man they had in front of them.”
“And how would you know that? By sniffing me for five whole minutes?” Adres asked, his aged, raspy voice sounding more and more venomous as Mac crowded into the vampire’s personal space until he was forced to look up… or look down in submission. Which, of course, he did not. Adres tilted his head back, meeting Mac’s glare head on, and gritted his teeth. “How in the hell would you perceive to know the kind of man I am, young Volkov wolf.”
“Macauley, don’t,” Justice commanded.
Bell didn’t know what the hell Mac was going to do, but he knew Adres wouldn’t just give Macauley the kind of respect he was demanding, the same way he hadn’t just given it to Alek. Shifters, especially alphas, felt they should be revered on sight. Well, reverence was earned in Bell’s world. Mac didn’t appear to take Adres’ glower as a challenge, and instead stood there seething, his chest rising and falling so hard, that on each inhale his body brushed against the vampire. That close together, Mac dominated the horseman with his hands on his bare hips. Beads of sweat rolled from Mac’s muscular, naked body as he radiated his frustration.
“You may be a master at hiding your scent.” Mac dipped low and pressed his nose to Adres’ temple. “But, I smell the real you… killer.”
Adres took a couple of steps back, but Mac didn’t let him retreat. Bell cringed. He knew this was a testosterone-filled-two-alphas-colliding type thing happening before him, but he didn’t want to see them tussle on the ground for an hour all because they couldn’t see the obviousness.
“You have killed too, wolf. I’ve heard the Volkov history,” Adres bit back.
“I defended my pack... not killed for money,” Mac growled. “Show them the putrid insult you’ve brought us.”
“It is not for you,” Adres retorted. “It’s for my lords.”
“Enough of this,” Wick said.
Adres continued to scowl as he let his gaze travel up Mac’s body, and the dramatic dip of his Adam’s apple was one act he couldn’t disguise. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and no one interrupted as the two of them stood off. Everything Adres was doing to Mac could have been considered hostile and immensely disrespectful, but Mac still didn’t attack.
“Alek, if Mac is so enraged then why isn’t he doing anything? He’s just… standing there.”
Alek laughed lightly. “That’s not rage, baby. If Mac was really mad, then he wouldn’t be half hard right now. You can’t feel his thoughts, but this older vampire is really getting under his skin… in another way.”
“Is Adres Cavalerie your brother’s mate?”
“No.”
“This is weird,” Bell grumbled.
“What’s weirder is Mac isn’t gay.”
“And don’t look at me like that,” Mac said between clenched teeth.
Adres moved around Mac, dismissing him, and went down on one knee a few feet from Bell and Wick and opened up the large pack he’d had strapped to his back. When he rose he held out a plastic-wrapped burlap bag, large enough for them all to know what was hanging so heavy – and bloody – inside.
“I did not do this for the bounty. Keep your money, King Bentley. Or donate it to any of the blood banks or shifter charities. I don’t need it. That is not why I brought you Alessandro Giuliani’s head. That would be against everything my house stands for. What I brought was vengeance for the Lord High.” Adres faced Justice and gave him a slight nod, “I did not bring death to your door as an insult. In my culture, this gesture is seen as the highest gift a wronged man can receive. Word traveled quickly to my house with what happened to Lord Belleron at the Dales, but I had no interest in seeking revenge for the royalty.”
“Then why did you do it?” Bell asked.
“When royalty stopped to save one of my brothers.”
Bell was confused.
“The fire. That vampire your beloved, Wrath, saved was my middle brother, Andrei. He’s no longer a horseman. None of us, except him, have ever found his beloved. We envied him, protected him. But, I wasn’t there that night. We’d been urging him to get the wiring repaired for months in his shop but he kept putting it off. He would’ve died, Lord Belleron, if your mate wasn’t thoughtful enough to put another, a stranger’s, well-being over himself. It’s the doctrine my family lives by, so I had to come make it right. Duty requires that I do. I’m here to pledge my honor to your demigod and to you, my lord.”