Savage Bond (The Fallen)

by Anne Marsh

  "Maybe," he allowed. "But you're not sharing those pictures with anyone, Ria. You have to keep what you know to yourself."

  That wasn't going to be a problem.

  "So why not just kill me?" She had to say it, because that was the elephant in the room, wasn't it? She was alone with him. He'd already made it perfectly clear that he was bigger, stronger. Meaner. Snapping her neck would mean a handful of seconds to him—and whatever knowledge she had would be far more than off-limits to MVD.

  "I don't want you dead, Ria." There was no mistaking the hungry look in his eyes, however. He wanted something.

  At least the unfriendlies following their asses hadn't caught up and the lack of light would put them out of business until daylight, too. The last winged rogue had disappeared from the horizon a half hour ago. Maybe, they had an all clear for the moment. Vkhin risked a glance back at his companion and knew he had to call it. She was game, but no way she went any further. Not without a couple of hours to catch her breath. Plus, that new limp of hers screamed blister, too.

  He could afford to give her an hour or two to rest, then they needed to be on the move again.

  Didn't take long, either, to find a decent place to stop and hunker down once he'd started looking.

  "We're stopping?" Her voice slurred with exhaustion as she trudged towards him. "I thought you wanted me to put out."

  He ignored her last suggestion, but couldn't shake the fantasies running through his head. He was supposed to be cold. Unfeeling. He'd spent millennia serving as Zer's right hand. He was a warrior. He fought and he killed—and he had no fucking regrets about that. So he shouldn't feel this hunger for Ria Morgan. From the first moment he'd felt her watching him, he'd felt something however, a complicated mix of hunger and lust and an unfamiliar, unwanted tenderness.

  He needed those pics. That was all this was.

  He was only stopping because she was human and therefore fragile. Of course, if she bonded with him, that wouldn't be an issue anymore. But he didn't want to bond with anyone.

  "I might have another mile in me," she said. He watched her put one foot in front of the other like she'd been drunk for a week and hadn't figured out the straight line deal. Yeah. Definitely time to call it quits. Whatever she had left wasn't much at all.

  "Park it," he said and she stumbled to a halt, almost body-slamming him in her haze of exhaustion.

  "You're quitting now?" She set her pack down, though, and followed it to the ground.

  "You ask too many questions," he grumbled. His knife sliced clean through the branch, peeling the fibers off in long strands. He'd peeled rogues like that, let their screams wash right on over him because he had a job to do and intel to gather. She didn't know what kind of a monster she was prodding.

  Before he could say something he'd regret, he got busy with his blade again and cuts a dozen long poles, lashing them together into a primitive frame. The raw cuts would advertise their presence, but speed was going to win the day tomorrow, not stealth.

  She flipped open the bag, rummaging around inside it. "And you don't answer any of them."

  "You're tired." He covered the frame he'd made with the tough nylon chute she'd jumped with. Kind of teepee-like, he decided. Wasn't the Ritz-Carlton, but, with the opening tucked at a right angle to the rising wind, she'd be out of the cold and damp. That was worth half a star right there. Her eyes followed him as he did his thing, undoubtedly full of more questions.

  "How come you don't want to do that bonding thing?"

  "You volunteering?"

  Her mouth snapped shut. "Not really."

  She hadn't, he noticed, denied the possibility flat out. Instead, she dropped her gaze and began rummaging around inside that bag of hers again. Eventually, she pulled out a granola bar and tore open the silver wrapper. He wished he could give her the doughnut and coffee he knew she craved, but there were some things he couldn't do.

  "You want one?" she asked.

  "I'm good for now." He collected a handful of rocks to weigh down the edges of the chute. Too bad he wasn't a Boy Scout, because this was merit badge material right here. "You got more water in that bag of yours, you should drink it. Make sure you don't dehydrate."

  She chewed and swallowed. "This all part of the protect-and-evac deal you offered? A little hospitality for the night and you make sure I eat and drink?"

  He stepped away from the skeleton he'd assembled. The branches would hold the chute nicely. Might not be the prettiest place she'd ever slept, but she'd be okay for tonight.

  "You don't want to bond with me," he pointed out. "What you want is to get out of here. Preferably in one piece."

  "In one piece is good." She nodded and took another bite of granola bar. "That's a plan I could get behind."

  "So give me what I want and it's all yours."

  "Right." She fell silent, methodically chewing through the remainder of her bar.

  The bond mate biz was hardly a secret. Humans traded their souls for a favor. Money, a promotion, power over someone else. They loved that shit, loved what they could get. And the Fallen had to meet the price tag.

  Because when you had a bond mate, you could experience that mate's emotions second-hand. Like a drug. Temporarily fill up the void inside the Fallen angel. When Michael had ripped away their wings, he'd also ripped out their ability to feel the finer things in life, and Vkhin wasn't talking opera and vintage Champagne. All the nicer emotions except for the brutish, feral, killing ones. His last mate's face flashed through his head, right on queue, as if he needed the reminder. There were some things, some people, a male didn't forget. Ever.

  The Fallen came all pre-addicted. If they didn't get their fix, their killer instincts came out. Army of rogues tearing up M City was proof enough of that.

  A soul mate was something—someone—else entirely. There was one pre-destined woman for each Fallen angel. Find her, take her, love her—and the warrior re-grew his wings and his all-access pass to the Heavens. He got a cosmic do-over and a second chance. He and his new mate were also bound together for all eternity. Problem was, the archangel Cuthah had had his own plans for taking over the Heavens and he hadn't wanted the Fallen to get that second chance, so he'd methodically killed off every single soul mate he could find. In three thousand years, the Fallen had found precisely three. Three. So Vkhin wasn't standing in line waiting for this woman to show up.

  He didn't need to.

  The temptation to let go was too damned strong.

  He was used to carving out a life. Life in the Preserves wasn't that fundamentally different from his life back in M City—it was all about living life on the edge. All about survival. She didn't belong here. Which was just as true as the fact that he did belong here, even if something inside him was coming alive. Something he'd thought dead and buried.

  "Well, fuck," she said and that about summed it up. He leaned forward and got a good look at her face. The cold and dark had done a number on her and there was no missing the dazed look in her eyes. Damned, too, if her lips weren't tinged with blue. This conversation was over.

  "We'll sleep inside." When he flipped open the flap for her, she hesitated.

  "Give me a minute," she said, her cheeks pinkening with something other than cold.

  Fair enough. He wouldn't make her say it. Going inside, he left the flap up while he got a small fire going inside. He could hear her rustling around outside, taking advantage of the bushes. Five minutes before he'd planned to go after her, she stuck her head inside. Watching.

  She didn't back away, so he kept on working, pushing the hot coals deep into the ground. Those coals would keep her warm while she slept. He dropped a Mylar blanket from the survival kit over the lot, reaching for her.

  She came, letting him draw her down onto the silver blanket.

  "We'll rest here for a couple of hours. Then, we move out." He handed her a bottle of water. "Drink."

  She made a face but complied. Again. He wondered how far he could push that lu
ck. "Will they find us?"

  He shook his head. "Not tonight. We're under cover here and we've got a head start." Tomorrow, yeah. Tomorrow, they'd be in deep shit unless they hit that wall fast. Tonight, however, she was safe enough. "I'm going to go back out there," he told her. "Nothing gets in here."

  She yawned. "Except through you."

  "Precisely."

  He tucked his leather duster around her, crouching over her in a long-sleeved black shirt and pants. "You're good at this, aren't you?" Her face looked up at him through the shadows. Exhausted, he reminded himself. Vulnerable, his inner beast calculated.

  "I should be." He slipped her hair back behind her ear. "I've been doing this for three thousand years."

  "Stay with me." She yawned again as he pulled her against his larger, harder body. He shouldn't. Christ, he knew that. He should leave.

  Instead, he followed her down onto that damned blanket.

  Chapter Five

  "Just a little. A little taste." His voice was a harsh growl in her ear. She should have backed the hell away from him, but instead she was wet just listening to him. He didn't want to do this. He'd made that perfectly clear, but tempting that control of his was tempting her and, just this once, she was going to take what she wanted. And she'd wanted Vkhin since he'd emerged from the shadows. Before that, too, if she was being honest. She'd been fighting the sensual hunger he aroused in her and now? She was just hungry. For him.

  "You're a tease." Just to make her point, she arched backwards against him, curling into his heat. He was driving her crazy and he hadn't even touched her yet. Not really. But her pussy was wet and swollen and she wanted him to touch her there. Wanted to feel his fingers in her and on her.

  "Tell me what you want, Ria." He lowered his head, pressing his mouth against the soft, vulnerable skin where her neck met her shoulder. She could feel his muscles, the strength of him as he shifted behind her, adjusting their fit until they were skin to skin. "Maybe," he whispered against her skin, "you'd enjoy just my fingertips—just a little."

  She whimpered, softening against him. Heat blazed through her, scorching her face, her breasts. And lower. She knew her panties were soaked. What would it be like when he finally gave in and touched her, reached beneath the damp cotton and sank into her heat? She wanted him too badly to wait any longer.

  "You have to ask for it," he warned. "That's the deal."

  He was killing her with the desire blazing between them. Waiting wasn't what she wanted. "That's your deal." Her voice was hoarse, unrecognizable to her own ears. She was changing, here in the dark and in his arms, becoming some other woman. She should have been frightened by the effect he had on her but the sensations filling her were too sweet, too hot. All she wanted was more.

  She parted her legs, sensation uncurling in her. "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah." His voice was hard and uncompromising behind her. He thought he'd scared her off.

  Fine. Two could play at this game. "I could ask you—" She licked her lips. It was dark inside the retreat he'd built for her, but instinct warned her he could see her just fine. Was watching her. A naughty thrill zinged through her. She could give him something to watch.

  She didn't want to be alone, fighting to make it out of the Preserves with murderous rogues tracking her. Those rogues caught up and her forbidden attraction to Vkhin was going to be the least of her problems. She couldn't count on anything but this handful of moments, wrapped in the dark and the warmth of this male's arms. Maybe he wasn't offering a happily ever after or even more than just this one night, but she didn't want to be left alone here and he was the only exit she had.

  He shifted behind her. The smell of leather filled their shelter as he tucked that duster of his closer around her. "Ask me, Ria." That sexy growl convinced her. "Whatever you want, all you have to do is ask."

  Dropping her head back onto his shoulder, she tried to look up at him but she was no cat and their shelter was dark. All she could make out was the shadowy outline of his face. She'd seen him on vid like this a dozen times or more. Hard. Knowing. He'd fought for the Fallen, fought to keep M City safe from the rogues. He might be Heavens' bad boy, but he'd done everything in his power to stay on the right side of the line in the fight against M City's monsters. He wasn't good, but he wasn't the bad guy, either. The lines that had been drawn in this battle weren't that simple. Now, wrapped in his arms, the lines were blurring even further.

  His mouth moved against her neck, a hot, seductive glide of male skin and warmth that promised more. Much more.

  "I shouldn't." God, she shouldn't. She was hyper-aware of his arms, hands. He hadn't moved an inch, still and waiting. He was all predator, stalking her like the sweetest of prey. The thick ridge of his erection pressed against her backside, making her deliciously aware of his strength through the layers of clothing separating them.

  "Probably not," he agreed as his mouth found her ear. He was her anchor in the darkness. Comfortable and yet strangely familiar. She'd watched him for weeks, but he kept to himself too much. Even when he'd hunted with his fellow Fallen, he was reserved, those dark eyes shuttered and wary. She hadn't learned anywhere near enough to satisfy the curiosity burning through her.

  "I've been watching you," she admitted. He'd gone about his business in M City in that long duster and the worn blue jeans that clung to his muscled thighs with each sure, confident move that he'd made. He'd prowled the alleys, meting out the Fallen's own brutal brand of justice, and she'd watched. Every night, she'd watched him go out and fight, and she'd fought the urge to follow him back to his base when he'd finished. To strip off those jeans and see what he was hiding beneath the worn fabric.

  "I know," he rumbled. "Tell me what you saw, Ria."

  "I've seen you fight." His tongue explored the curve of her ear. Tasting her like he could eat her up. She shivered, because, oh, God, his touch was pure wickedness. She shouldn't have felt that simple touch so strongly, but she did.

  She'd never seen him take a woman. Countless times, she'd seen his brothers, the other Fallen, do that, seen them wrap themselves around a woman and take her. Hard and fast and thorough, until that woman had thrown back her head and screamed from the pure pleasure of it all. Something happened during those pairings and she'd recognized their lovers' satisfied smiles. Secretly wanted that for herself with Vkhin. "But I've never seen you with a lover."

  "Not while you've been watching. Not for a long time, Ria."

  "Why not?" She shouldn't be asking this, she knew.

  "I'm dangerous," he growled. "Don't ever forget that."

  "Maybe I like dangerous."

  "You like it safe, Ria." His fingers touched her cheek. "You like to watch, baby, from your nice, safe desk while you control everything around you. That's not dangerous at all."

  Maybe she was tired of always playing it safe. Her fingers clenched on the front of her jumpsuit, crumpling the fabric. Nothing about Vkhin was safe. He woke a side of her she hadn't known existed. He made her feel alive. Curious.

  Heated.

  Safe or not, she wanted the male holding her in his arms. So she slid her own hand down over her stomach. "I have to ask you, Vkhin?"

  "Yeah," he growled.

  "But I can take care of myself." That was a delicious thought. She could. She could do this, with or without him.

  He cursed, low and hard behind her and, God, that erection of his just got impossibly larger. She was teasing the beast. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. She had his promise. She'd have to ask him for what she wanted. He wasn't taking.

  So, why not do this? Why not play this game with him and try living—just a little—dangerously? Her hand found her pussy through the heavy fabric of her jumpsuit. Swollen. Needy. The first simple, soft stroke sent a sharp burst of pleasure through her clit. It felt good, so she did it again, pushing against her own finger. The male behind her froze right up.

  "Ria—" he groaned and her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.

  "Shhh
," she whispered. "Little busy here." She drew her finger through the heavy folds, pressing the fabric inwards with just enough pressure to have her hips rocking forward, savoring the teasing pressure of her own finger. A delicious, slow heat unfurled inside her.

  She stroked.

  Hard masculine hands covered hers. "Ask me," he demanded.

  Vkhin's body went nuclear. The woman in his arms wasn't lost, wasn't unsure. No, she was taking what she wanted from him and that was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Her face tipped back against his shoulder because she was doing some watching of her own right now. Whatever she read on his face, she liked, because she gave that slow smile of hers, stretching against him and sliding her hands free of his.

  His cock got harder, the tip damp. God, she was good.

  Good in more ways than one. He wasn't supposed to want her. And, even if he did, he reminded himself, this was just lust. He didn't need anything else from her besides those damned pictures so he shouldn't be holding his breath when she reached for the zipper on her flightsuit. Her fingers wrapped around the little metal tab and teased it down an inch. The back of her fingers brushed the creamy skin she revealed and he wanted to replace that hand with his mouth.

  "I'll show you," she said throatily, nudging that damned zipper down another inch. She unzipped the flight suit as if she were unwrapping a Christmas present, one teasing inch at a time. The sight of that lacy bra she'd been hiding beneath the utilitarian nylon and cotton made him want to tear the wrappings right off of her. Lilac satin cupped her breasts, her hard little nipples peeking over the lace-trimmed edges. Those nipples of hers were the color of summer raspberries and hard with her need.