Tethered

by Meljean Brook

  The cotton of her T-shirt felt damp. God. Guardians didn’t perspire except under severe emotional distress, but sweat was practically squirting from her pores.

  This was extreme fucking distress.

  He loomed over her, coming to a halt with the barrel of her gun digging into his chest. The slow, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat reverberated through the steel, into her palms. Heat radiated off him—hotter even than a demon, whose skin felt feverish to the touch. Taylor had heard that a dragon’s heart was like a furnace. Apparently Michael’s was, too.

  His big hand folded over the top of the gun, engulfing the weapon in his grip. A sharp talon scraped her forefinger. Shuddering, Taylor let go and jerked her hands back—then immediately wished she hadn’t. Without her arms extended and braced, nothing separated them.

  But after she imagined flattening her palms against his scaly chest to hold him in place, she kept her hands where they were.

  “I can’t die here.” He dropped the pistol to the sand. “Even if you cut off my head or slash through my heart.”

  The only ways to kill a Guardian…or a dragon. Taylor swallowed hard. “Okay. Since you’re invincible, maybe you should go kill Lucifer, then.”

  Maybe he should go right now.

  “I will.”

  “You haven’t yet.”

  “The coward hides from me. But you do not.”

  Another panicked laugh bubbled up. Lucifer obviously had more brains than she did. “And what will you do after you kill him? Rule over all of Hell?”

  “I have no desire to rule. Only to burn every demon to ash.”

  Taylor could get behind that idea. “That sounds great. But before you do that, we need to talk about getting you out of my—”

  His head dipped toward hers. Taylor choked, turned her face away. There was nowhere to go—but this wasn’t what she’d thought. He wasn’t aiming for her lips. He bent lower. Polished horn pressed against her jaw. Her body shaking, she remained absolutely still, his heat warming her chest like an oven.

  With his mouth hovering an inch from the curve of her neck, he inhaled. Smelling her? His eyelids drifted closed, as if he were savoring the scent.

  Did she smell like food? An image of those sharpened teeth flashed through her mind and a terrified whimper built in her throat. She desperately needed to think of something else. What had they been talking about?

  Demons. “So you’ll burn them all.” Her voice emerged trembling and faint. “Then eat them?”

  “Some. But the hunger never ceases.”

  Oh, God. She shouldn’t have asked. “Killing them all is a good plan, though.”

  Where was Khavi with her plan?

  “With one vulnerability.” Michael’s head lifted, and he looked down at her with unreadable obsidian eyes. A sharp talon skimmed down her cheek. “Give the body to me.”

  She’d feared he might say that she was his weak spot. But giving his body back, no problem. That was why she was here—to dump it from her hammerspace and be free of him.

  Yet she hesitated. This wasn’t the Michael she knew. “What will you do with it?”

  “Consume it.”

  She forced herself not to shudder when his claw traced the shape of her mouth. “You couldn’t return to Earth if you did.”

  “But I could destroy all of Hell.”

  Like a dragon would. Consuming, destroying. Khavi had said the torture of the frozen field had stripped away Michael’s humanity. Was this all that remained? Was this what lay at his core?

  She prayed that wasn’t true. “And if Lucifer reaches Chaos first?”

  “I don’t care.”

  That dark, hollow voice. Taylor closed her eyes, shook her head. This was not Michael. Not Michael at all. He’d sacrificed his life to stop Lucifer from doing that very thing because he cared.

  His talons curled under her chin, pricking the soft skin. “You want to be rid of me, Andromeda.”

  Yes. She couldn’t lie about that. But she didn’t want Michael dead or trapped in this realm for eternity. That was why she’d put up with him in her head, why she’d carried his body around all this time. Not many Guardians were left. There weren’t enough of them to fight if Lucifer escaped from Hell. Every single Guardian mattered, and Michael was the strongest of them.

  They needed him back. So why wasn’t Khavi here to finish this? Michael had come.

  “Because it’s in my nature,” he said.

  That terrifying smile stretched his lips again. His hand fell to the front of her shirt. Shocked, Taylor grabbed his wrist, tried to pull it away.

  “Don’t you dare—”

  Cotton shredded like tissue. A claw sliced through her bra. Oh, fuck that. Furious, she lashed out with her foot. Her kick should have shattered bones. Her punch could have fractured rock. He shrugged them off, catching her wrists, pinning them over her head with one hand.

  Gritting her teeth, she waited…but this wasn’t what she’d thought, either. Though he stared at her naked chest, that thick club between his legs wasn’t hard.

  He must have felt her relief. “That is not in my nature.”

  Sex, or forcing it? “Because you’re half demon?”

  Those creatures could perform the physical act of sex, but they couldn’t feel arousal. She’d never questioned whether Michael could. Maybe she should have.

  “No. I have experienced those needs. But there is nothing I have not done many times over in many different forms. The appeal was lost thousands of years ago. Your body does not tempt me to try again.”

  Oh. Well, that was…really fucking cruel. The bastard. He’d been in her head. He had to know how many times she’d imagined him being tempted and trying—and how quickly she’d always repressed those thoughts, feeling slightly blasphemous and guilty. But she couldn’t help having them. He had a face like sculpted granite and his body was her personal sexual fantasy come to life. Of course she’d imagined him in bed.

  But this was for the best. He’d only been a fantasy; she’d never wanted sex with him to become a reality. And now that she’d seen this hunger and cruelty at his core, he’d never interest her again.

  Still, his words made her chest ache. But she wouldn’t show it. She wouldn’t show it.

  It didn’t matter. He knew it. Strong fingers caught her chin, forced her gaze to his. “You feel pain over such words? You misunderstand. Your body does not interest me, Andromeda. But you do. When I am invulnerable, I will claim you as my own and fill you with my seed.”

  Taylor sputtered on a hysterical laugh. He couldn’t have just left it at her unappealing body? Because this didn’t make her feel better. “Keep dreaming, asshole. Even on the zero chance of that happening, your seed isn’t filling anything. I’m a Guardian, so that means no kids. Ring a bell?”

  “I do not want children. I want to possess you in every way, to make you mine.” His hand tightened around her wrists when she struggled. “I will keep you close and protect you.”

  “No thanks. Really. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “As you are now?”

  Fucker. Her jaw clenched as she stared back at him, gathering every bit of hate and anger inside her before projecting it outward. Unmoved by her rage, his flat obsidian gaze held hers for a long moment before dropping to read the symbol between her breasts. She blinked with surprise when she felt the touch of his healing power, then gasped as pain flared through the raw flesh. The warmth of his Gift immediately vanished.

  “It has to be cleansed with fire,” he said softly. “I will kill her for doing this to you.”

  Khavi? Arms still pinned over her head, Taylor looked down at her chest, trying to ignore her tits on display. The skin surrounding the symbol appeared swollen, infected. Just looking at the wound seemed to make it hurt more.

  Taylor despised having to ask him, but she wanted to know. “What does it say?”

  “‘Release.’”

  “What will it do?”

  “Take me from here.�
� His thumb brushed her temple. “Just as you wished. But destroying the body will do the same. Give it to me.”

  This time she didn’t hesitate. “No. Not when you’re like this.”

  And not when he planned to make himself invulnerable and fill her with his seed.

  “Then there is another way to destroy it.”

  Gently, his hand wrapped around her neck. Icy horror slithered through her veins. He only had to rip off her head and the body in her hammerspace would be forever lost.

  “Make your choice, Andromeda.”

  Decide whether to let him kill her? Cold sweat trickled down her spine. “You wouldn’t do it.”

  His fingers tightened. “No?”

  “No.”

  She wheezed past his hold on her throat. Choking didn’t matter; she didn’t need to breathe except to speak. His dark gaze bore into hers—perhaps he was wondering if she was as certain as she sounded. Taylor was certain. He’d protected her, after all. He’d tried to heal her. She had faith that he wouldn’t kill her now.

  Stupid, maybe. But she couldn’t protect herself, so that faith was all she had left.

  The seconds drew out. She couldn’t stand this. “Do it, Michael. Or don’t. Just stop fucking around.”

  His grip eased, but her relief was short-lived. With a sharp smile, he bent his head again. “Perhaps I can convince you to give me the body…one bite at a time.”

  Still holding her wrists, he pulled her up, off her feet. She tried to wrench away. The weight of his body held her in place. His fangs pinched the side of her neck and she froze, fear wracking her frame with involuntary tremors.

  God. Would he really torture her? She couldn’t see his eyes, his face—but Michael knew she’d feared he would eat her. Maybe he bluffed, trying to terrify her?

  Maybe he wasn’t bluffing. Michael wouldn’t kill her, but maybe he would hurt her. After all, he could just heal her.

  Taylor knew that a part of her would never heal from that—and she couldn’t summon even an ounce of faith in him now.

  One bite at a time. Damn him. She would survive this. Let him do his worst.

  “Go on, then. But even if you chew down to my bones, I won’t give the body to you.”

  His mouth was a brand against her skin. The pinch of his fangs became a piercing pain, and beyond their points were his sharpened teeth. She braced herself for that bite, the shredding agony. God, would he really do this? Would he really tear a piece of her away? Her eyes burned. The crimson sky blurred.

  Damn him for that, too.

  “I might cry,” she said hoarsely. “I might scream. But I won’t give it to you.”

  The moment stretched out, endless. Was this more torture, drawing out her horror and fear? He could draw it out all he wanted. She wasn’t going to give him a goddamn thing—

  “I know you will not,” he said against her neck. “And I cannot, either.”

  He hadn’t been extending the torture, then. He’d been trying to work himself up to biting her, and couldn’t follow through. Thank God. He couldn’t kill her, couldn’t hurt her. There was nothing he could do to her.

  So why wasn’t he letting her go?

  The touch of his healing Gift soothed the pain at her neck. A burning lick up the length of her throat followed. Taylor shuddered, recoiled.

  His left hand gripped her hip, held her still. “So we will sate your hunger instead.”

  Her hunger? But she wasn’t— Oh, God.

  Arousal burst inside her like a summer storm. Wet. Hot. Electric. Her body arched, straining against his. Her bare nipples brushed his chest. The delicious rasp of his reptilian scales wrung a moan from her throat, but this wasn’t sexy because he still looked like a giant demonic monster, and he wasn’t hard or tempted, and this wasn’t her, this was Michael—

  “Get out of my head!” Her shout cleared the fog of need. Taylor swung her knee, slammed it into his dick, but didn’t produce a flinch. “You bastard! You can’t kill me or hurt me, so you play with my brain? Threaten me with dragon sex? Are you trying to frighten me or just piss me off?”

  Darkness swamped her mind. He was taking over again. Screaming, Taylor fought his possession, but she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her lips to his, from sliding her tongue between his razored teeth to taste the burning heat of his mouth. A desperate sob built in her chest. Tears spilled as she deepened the kiss. Oh, God. It didn’t even matter what he did with her when he took over her mind. That he did it against her will was horror enough.

  His hand cradled her jaw. Still holding her mind tight, he lifted his head. “I’ll keep you with me for eternity, Andromeda. I’ll use you as a brainless puppet. Your body will live, but you won’t be truly alive—”

  You rotten fucking bastard!

  The shout rang inside her head. She shoved him out of her mind with a scream of rage. Tears still burned her eyes but not in horror and desperation anymore. Only fury remained—and she was done. Done, done, done. A puppet? He’d use that against her? It wasn’t even a threat. Even if Michael could hurt her, even if he ripped out her brain, that wouldn’t give him his body as he’d wanted. No. He’d only threatened that because it stabbed the most painful part of her, opened the wound that never healed and poured acid and salt into gaping flesh. And he’d known to do it because he’d been in her head, because he’d seen her little brother lying in his bed, his mind gone but his body still living on.

  Not a threat. Just deliberate cruelty.

  And if this was at the core of him, if this was his nature, then he wasn’t a Guardian—he was the kind of monster that the Guardians wanted to destroy. So he could have his goddamn body. Just as he’d wanted.

  She met his obsidian gaze, felt his triumph, and realized he’d pissed her off just so that she would give it back. It really didn’t matter anymore. He could have it, and stay here in Hell where he belonged.

  “Fuck you, Michael,” she said.

  She dropped his body out of her hammerspace and onto the sand behind him. Now he’d have to let her go to eat it, and she’d get the fuck out of here.

  But he didn’t move. And she hadn’t known that getting rid of his body would feel like this—her chest painfully tight, as if filled with sudden pressure. She stared up at Michael. Over her head, the grip of his fingers holding her wrists loosened. His arm dropped to his side but she didn’t fall back to the ground. The pain in her chest became agony. Blood spilled from his mouth…and she could taste her own. She looked down between them.

  Oh, God. A long spear impaled the symbol between her breasts, so deep that she couldn’t see the spearhead. Blood coated the steel shaft. Michael’s blood. The spear had stabbed through his back, then all the way through her chest.

  Khavi.

  Taylor couldn’t see the other Guardian behind Michael, only a familiar muscled form with dark bronze skin and lifeless limbs. His body from her hammerspace, skewered with them. So this had been the plan. No wonder Khavi hadn’t shared it with her. Khavi hadn’t just considered Michael’s nature—she’d known Taylor’s nature, too. Taylor would never have given his body to this dragon, not until he pushed past her limits with his cruelty, not until she was done with him and said her final “fuck you.” Khavi had known. And they’d both fallen perfectly into place. Now the spear connected them all. Michael’s body, his soul—and Taylor, who’d linked them together.

  A thrum resonated through the steel shaft. In front of her, Michael’s dragon form shrank again…but not shape-shifting. Held motionless by pain and shock, Taylor watched as he melted back, as if slipping along the bloodied spear—and was sucked into the symbols that Khavi had carved into Michael’s body on the day he’d transformed Taylor, on the day he’d sacrificed himself.

  His soul, returned to his body. And his life…?

  His eyes opened. Amber. Human. His gaze locked on hers and his body surged forward on the spear.

  She flinched back and he froze. His hand lifted toward her.

  “Androm
eda.”

  She wanted to tell him not to call her that, he knew she hated that name, but she couldn’t speak past the blood in her throat. But at least that had been his voice. His voice. A harmony. Michael was back. Why wasn’t she free? She felt him in her head, dark and protective, building up her psychic shields and pushing away the agony. His healing Gift slipped along the spear still impaled through their chests—he wouldn’t be able to heal her, not a wound from that weapon, but he was trying. She was safe, though; she’d survive this. It hadn’t touched her heart.

  His gaze fell to the symbol. Release. His amber eyes darkened to obsidian, realization and denial tearing through his mind and echoing in hers.

  Khavi yanked the spear back.

  Excruciating pain tore a gurgling cry from her, but that wasn’t all that went. Bits of her bone and flesh clung to the spear. Michael’s big hands rose to catch her even as the spear’s head, dripping with her blood, jerked back through his body.

  And her mind didn’t release him. He was ripped away, and she screamed as his psyche tore free with bits of hers still clinging. He caught her as darkness filled the shredded remains.

  No white light, no kiss. Just darkness and pain and the stench of Hell, wrapped up in Michael’s arms.

  Meljean Brook lives in Oregon with her family. She is the author of the Guardian series and the Iron Seas steampunk romance series. For contact information and extras for both series, please visit www.meljeanbrook.com.

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  Titles by Meljean Brook

  The Guardian Series

  DEMON ANGEL

  DEMON MOON

  DEMON NIGHT

  DEMON BOUND

  DEMON FORGED

  DEMON BLOOD

  DEMON MARKED

  The Iron Seas Series

  THE IRON DUKE

  HEART OF STEEL

  RIVETED

  MINA WENTWORTH AND THE INVISIBLE CITY

  (A Berkley Sensation Special Novella)

  TETHERED

  (A Berkley Sensation Special Novella)

  Anthologies

  HOT SPELL

  (with Emma Holly, Lora Leigh, and Shiloh Walker)