Earning Their Mate's Trust [Half-Demon Mates 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) Read online

  Half-Demon Mates 1

  Earning Their Mate’s Trust

  Damon, half demon and half human, can’t feel strong emotions. Michael is a wolf shifter chased from his pack. Together they search for their third mate.

  Drawn to a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere, they discover the cute and innocent waiter is the person they’ve been searching for, but Jessie has his own secrets and a group of hunters, men that track and kill nonhumans, have targeted him.

  When Damon and Michael arrive inside his workplace, Jessie instantly recognizes them. After all, they’ve invaded his dreams for weeks promising forbidden pleasure, but when he sees them in person, he’s not sure he’s ready for an intense sexual relationship with two men. While his heart pulls him closer, his mind can’t trust these two, but each day the sexual pull gets harder to resist. Can he get over his fear and let two men into his heart?

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 38,729 words

  EARNING THEIR MATE'S TRUST

  Half-Demon Mates 1

  Sydney Lain

  MENAGE AMOUR

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour ManLove

  EARNING THEIR MATE'S TRUST

  Copyright © 2014 by Sydney Lain

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63258-447-2

  First E-book Publication: October 2014

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  EARNING THEIR MATE'S TRUST

  Half-Demon Mates 1

  SYDNEY LAIN

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Damon cruised into the parking spot. The motorcycle engine revved like a lion’s roar. Eyes focused on him, watching as he pulled off the dark helmet. Black hair fell into his face. The three watchers froze. Ice-blue eyes met their gazes. They stiffened at the intensity, turned and shuffled inside.

  A devilish smirk pulled at his lips. Why did humans stop and stare? Did something about him scream inhuman? Damon shook his head. He’d never understood curiosity. Humans existed moving through life, clutching onto the normal, too afraid to notice the not-so-normal that existed around them.

  Michael pulled in behind him. The cherry-red motorcycle radiated as the sun beat down on it. Anger pooled around him as he yanked off his helmet. Wavy brown hair dipped into his eyes, the top flattened against his head like bed hair after a long night of sex. A day’s dusting of prickly facial hair covered his chin, making the man look even sexier and more lethal. Damon remained silent, as he stared into pissed-off chocolate brown eyes.

  Two humans rushed past them.

  Damon arched an eyebrow up.

  “You didn’t wait,” Michael complained, straddling the motorcycle in a way that reminded Damon of last night’s hard pounding.

  “The light turned yellow, not red. You could’ve made it, but stopped. Getting cautious in your old age,” Damon teased. Michael’s anger filtered through their mating bond. He relished it like rain in the desert.

  Michael growled as brown eyes changed to a rich golden yellow, turning the glare from menacing to murderous. Both shades were equally wild, beautiful and full of life. Just before Michael climaxed during sex the change occurred. Seeing those eyes now left him wanting to sink deep inside the warm tight sheath or let Michael ride out his anger. No matter how many times they fucked, Damon never tired of the ferocious, dangerous beast looming below the surface of his mate. Michael growled, knowing where Damon’s thoughts were heading. The irritation grew like heat beneath a teakettle just before the steam forced the loud whistle.

  Damon shook his head. A part of him recognized the wrongness of the situation. Michael balanced between strong emotions always on the verge of losing control, forcing Damon to recognize the hole within his heart. He relished the other man’s laughs and anger. At times, Michael felt for both of them. Sometimes, Damon fed the strong feelings to see the part he was missing.

  Michael often figured it out, which only helped Damon’s cause. The last time, he’d gone too far with comments that fed the rage Michael fought against. It took days before his mate could speak to him without growling every other word, which Damon deserved. Michael hated criticism. Growing up in a family that didn’t accept him and belittled every action left him on a narrow ledge struggling to remain balanced. If Damon became over critical, then Michael burst. That burning rage was better left untouched.


  “Sorry, Michael.” He held out a hand. “I take too many chances.”

  Michael’s wide shoulders and bulging biceps reminded Damon of his mate’s physical strength. There was nothing soft about the other man’s body, but his heart wanted to help others.

  “Don’t treat me like a pussy,” Michael demanded. “Next time you want to race, let me know. Don’t cut me off and speed through red lights.”

  Anger bubbled below the surface. Damon walked a fine line. One push and he’d feed the rage. If they were alone, Damon would play with the hard muscles until the stress left the other man’s body. While his mate hated to lose and winning drove him to do stupid things like start bar fights after someone cheated or play poker with impossible odds, he felt it, too. Something drew them to this place.

  For the first time since stopping, Michael’s eyes left his face. The yellow seeped out and the beautiful warm brown returned. Damon spent hours watching those eyes fill with passion as he drove deep into his mate’s warm heat. Michael, sensing his desire, licked at his lips.

  “Let’s find a motel,” Michael demanded. Then he looked around. The area was heavily wooded with tall trees in every direction. Only the road offered a clear path in and out of the area. “Better yet, let’s go into the woods. It’s been a while since we’ve fucked against a tree.”

  Damon’s back still remembered the bark scratching his skin as Michael plowed into him. Their sex was always hard and fast. They craved each other’s bodies with an insatiable appetite. The temptation to follow Michael into the woods was almost too hard to resist, but something drew them here.

  “As tempting as that sounds, we’re here for a reason.” Damon turned back to the building.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Michael asked. “This place is disgusting.”

  Damon nodded. The outside yellow paint was chipped and cracked and the lime green undercoat from a previous paint job peeked through. The roof looked too heavy for the walls to hold up and at any moment the sides would cave in, killing everyone inside. He, too, wasn’t looking forward to entering the building.

  “I’m not eating here. I bet they failed the last health inspection. If we go in, I’m demanding to see those certificates.”

  Damon shrugged. He’d have to take Michael’s word for it since food didn’t matter. He ate and drank, but lacked the ability to like or dislike different foods. He preferred to feed off nature and the energy produced during sex. That’s why his power fluctuated. After a hard round of sex, he felt sated and full, but it never lasted long. Then he’d breathe in the earth and allow nature’s energy to fill him. The sun gave him strength while the moon made him horny.

  With their third mate missing, his heart was incomplete. His kind had two mates. Finding Michael had been a miracle and made the years bearable, but a hole existed and both of them knew that only another warm body could fill it.

  He studied the old rundown building, but layers of dirt kept out prying eyes. Even the sign was difficult to read. He squinted before making out the words—Roadside Diner.

  “Do you think Roadside means they collect dead animals from the curb and serve them?”

  Damon suppressed a laugh, a rarity for him. Only Michael saw the worst in every situation no matter how ridiculous he sounded. Those far-reaching jumps to the most unlikely explanation kept him smiling. If it was going to rain, Michael waited for a hurricane. A snow dusting was never just flurries, but an impending blizzard. That’s why Michael stopped at every yellow light, because one day a truck would zoom by and he’d be road kill. If something bad was going to happen, Michael already thought about it and planned for it.

  He listened to the seriousness in Michael’s tone and chose his words carefully. “That would be more work than shopping at a supermarket.” Michael’s comments lacked common sense, but he’d never belittle his mate. Not when the other man was serious.

  “Yeah, but this place doesn’t have the extra money to spend on food. It makes more sense if the food came out of the garbage.” Michael nodded, clearly liking the unsupported conclusion.

  “Something drew us here,” Damon said. “And it’s not to expose the restaurant for serving road kill.”

  Michael sniffed the air, senses on high alert. Damon sensed trouble before it happened, but a black cloud surrounded the restaurant. He opened up and tried to feel the earth, but nothing spoke to him. He looked at his mate. “I can’t feel anything from the inside.”

  “So we’re here for no reason. You don’t sense danger,” Michael concluded.

  “No, I sense nothing. If there’s nothing wrong, I feel a peaceful calm. Most places absorb the surrounding energy. Here is just a dark cloud.”

  “That’s interesting and a bit thrilling. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a real fight.”

  Damon didn’t comment. Instead he focused on the building, studying the surrounding area and opening his power to the earth. Off to the corner, something suspicious caught his attention. A black van with tinted windows screamed sinister. He motioned toward it with his head. Michael’s eyes narrowed. The vehicle looked like what bad guys drove in the B movies Michael insisted they watch. He felt the earth under the rubber tires. The soil cringed and cried out one word, death.

  “People were murdered inside that van.”

  Michael nodded. “I smell it. The van reeks of blood. Nonhuman blood.”

  “Hunters.” Damon said the word first, but Michael nodded. Disgust filled him. Hunters were worse than the scum in a dirty bathroom that had gone decades without being cleaned.

  Michael studied the Roadside Diner with a look of disgust. “Do you think they’re here for the food?” He shivered at the thought of eating inside. “Or do you think they’re watching someone?”

  “If I were in a van driving along a lightly traveled road, this wouldn’t be a stop on my list.”

  Michael nodded.

  Damon felt through their bond. Anger and sadness filled his mate. Too many nonhumans died at the hands of hunters.

  “Let’s go in. We need to stop them before they kill someone.”

  His mate’s expression changed from anger to a look of horror. “That means we’re going to eat here.”

  Damon nodded. “And drink coffee or tea.” He threw an arm across Michael’s shoulder. They were both tall, muscular men. He had an inch or two on Michael’s six-foot-one-inch frame, but his mate’s large bulking muscles made up for it. When they walked into a room, everyone noticed.

  ”I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Damon promised.

  “I doubt that. My head will be worshiping the porcelain god as I fight off food poisoning.”

  Damon laughed. Shifters didn’t get tummy aches from rotten food, but he kept that to himself. One way or another he planned on having a long sex-filled night as they took turns plunging into each other’s body. That wouldn’t happen if he pissed off his mate, so he bit his tongue.

  The inside looked no better than the outside. He felt Michael tense beside him. The rug covering the floor was stained. Water damage marked the ceiling. Cobwebs lay in the corners, but that wasn’t the worst of it. On the windowsill, a roach ran along the wood. He hoped Michael didn’t see it, but the sharp hiss next to him informed him otherwise. He turned toward his mate and the other man’s glare sent a chill down his spine.

  “Fine, no food,” Damon said.

  The satisfied look on the other man’s face told him all was forgiven. They walked to the stools positioned around the long counter. From their seats, they watched the entire diner.

  He immediately spotted the four men dressed in black. Hunters didn’t try to fit in. Their dark getup demanded attention. He sensed the energy all around, but an unnatural fog surrounded them.

  He studied the other diners. Tense energy leaked from the tables closest to the hunters. The other customers stole glances while some turned to watch, not trying to hide their fascination.

  “Who do you think they’re watching?” Michael asked.

/>   Damon shrugged. No one stood out. An elderly couple sat nervously at a booth. A child cried in a highchair, kicking its feet back and forth. A young couple sipped coffee, the male looked at the hunters and the female looked at them.

  The hunters’ eyes turned toward the kitchen. A shorter man wearing a white T-shirt and dark blue jeans stepped out. He lifted his head and stared at the men in black watching him. He swallowed before picking up the coffee pot. He kept his head low as he approached Damon and Michael.

  The hunters’ eyes followed him like a predator watching its prey. Damon glared. He’d just found the target.

  The younger man’s hand shook as he placed two cups in front of them. He poured the coffee, never asking if they wanted any. He closed his eyes as he felt Michael’s irritation grow at someone expecting him to drink something in a dirty rundown restaurant. He felt for the waiter’s energy. Something was off. He continued to probe.

  “We don’t want that,” Michael said with a harsh growl.

  The waiter gasped and nodded, lifting his head for the first time.

  Michael hissed. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air.

  Damon looked at their waiter. He met sea-green eyes and knew. Now close up, he felt it, but still couldn’t penetrate the man’s shields. It was different than the unnatural fog that surrounded a hunter. It felt like a giant steel door prevented him from getting inside.

  “I’m sorry. Just very nervous today.” He turned to look at the looming figures in the corner.

  “Are you all right?” Michael asked, caressing the other man’s pale wrist.

  “You shouldn’t do that.” Sea-green eyes stared at Michael and then turned to look at Damon. He licked his lips. Lean muscles pressed against the tight T-shirt. He would never win against them in hand-to-hand combat. He looked fast but was still smaller than both of them. He wasn’t tiny but average at almost five feet ten inches.