by Kiersten Fay
“I don’t need you to alleviate my guilt. You have every right to be angry.”
“Do I? You are what you are. I knew it even before I claimed you. Although by then, it was already too late, wasn’t it? We’d been bonded.”
Again his words only brought confusion. She waited for him to explain. Instead, he rolled away from her, facing the wall. “I’m tired. I can’t do this right now.”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to say something like that and then just dismiss me. What are you talking about?”
“Go ask Trent what else your blood tests revealed,” he muttered.
As always, Mace was tight lipped when it came to keeping her informed. She wanted to snap and rage and demand he tell her everything, but she didn’t. A kind of intuitive understanding settled over her. Keeping things from her? That was how Mace held her at a distance. A way, unconsciously done or not, to protect his heart…from her.
Something in her blood test made him wary of opening himself to her fully, even as he proclaimed his love. She feared whatever this new information was, it was going to be a bombshell.
Without another word, she turned and strode from the room.
Downstairs, Bray, Trent, and Knox were seated around the coffee table. She wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but Trent looked livid; Bray, worried. Knox…had a black eye? And still he managed to look cavalier as he leered up at her.
Upon seeing her, Bray stood.
Knox scoffed and made a barking noise, but Bray didn’t seem bothered. His smile was only for her. She swallowed the lump that had been placed in her throat by her interaction with Mace.
“Are you well?” Bray asked.
She tried to nod, but it came across as a bobble with a halfhearted shrug. Bray skirted the coffee table and crossed to her, enveloping her in a tender embrace. She nearly broke down then and there, but somehow managed to keep it together.
“We were just talking about you,” Trent said, his face cut by hard lines.
There wasn’t much she could say to that, so she just took a seat on the sofa next to Bray. He gripped her hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. Both Trent and Knox scowled.
Cora blushed and tried to avert their attention from Bray’s doting. “Well, are you going to let me in on the conversation?”
“This vampire you claim to have seen—” Trent started.
“Nikolai,” she said, as if restating the name would lend to her credibility.
“My agents have done a search of our database and have not come up with any individual with that name.”
“Then he’s not in your database.”
“Whereas that is possible, it is unlikely. Could you have seen a human disguised as a vampire? Some of them like to pretend. Bray mentioned they kept the both of you pretty drugged up. And it would make sense. If humans were trying to figure out how to turn themselves into vampires they might already envision themselves as one of us, dressing up and such.”
Cora had witnessed that first hand in some of the underground clubs she used to sneak into where debauchery and sex was for sale in every corner. She’d watched, fascinated as individuals traded partners, bartered for favors, and feted their days away. Not wanting to indulge herself, but unable to look away. For a time, she had become quite the voyeur. Until the vamp wannabes started showing up, always after midnight, as if they’d held a meeting and synchronized their clocks. Humans dressed in head-to-toe black, with veneered fangs and contacts that disguise the true color of their eyes. She could never stomach the sight of their posturing, excessive amounts of jewelry, pretending to drink blood from overly embellished silver goblets—sometimes not so pretend. Never once had she seen a real vampire do that. Real vampires prefer the vein.
Hadn’t Nikolai been dressed in all black? His eyes impossibly dark against alabaster skin? Could she have been mistaken? She recalled he had dripped with malevolent power, almost saturated in something too dark and disturbing for her to name. To be fair, might she have been more intoxicated than she had thought?
“I see you’re unsure,” Trent said.
She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll allow that it could have been a human, if you stay open to the possibility that I could be right.”
Trent sat back in his chair. “Fair enough.”
She blinked, somewhat unprepared for his capitulation.
Bray squeezed her hand. “We’ll figure all this out. Then we’ll make them pay, whoever they are.”
Cora had never considered herself a vengeful person, had never thirsted for revenge the way others might after having lived her experiences. Did she want those who’d done wrong by her to get what they deserved? Sure. In a karmic way. And many of them had without her direct intervention. However, when she thought of her inhuman treatment down in that dungeon and the horrors endured by so many before her, and of all the ways Bray could make them pay, she didn’t just thirst for revenge, she was parched for it.
“First thing’s first,” Trent said. “We’ll need to locate this underground bunker. Bray and Cora, you’ll lead me and a team of my men back—”
“No,” Cora said. “I’m not leaving Mace. My first priority is to remove his curse. He needs me now.” Even though he might not ever look at her the same again, she would not abandon him. It was her fault he was cursed. She’d inadvertently let Sadira out of her prison to wreak havoc, and Mace had paid the price.
Trent went silent for a moment, his gaze tightening on her. One thing she’d discerned about Trent, he didn’t like his orders questioned, let alone downright rejected.
After a tense minute, Trent replied, “It’s probably best you stay here anyway. You might be more of a liability. Bray will show us the way.”
The idea of parting with Bray put that jagged pain back in her stomach. But it would only be for, what, a day at the most?
To Bray, Trent added, “I’ll also need to bring you in for an evaluation, a physical, and an accelerated inoculation regiment to get you back up to par. Might be able to have you reinstated into the VEA by the end of the month.”
Month?
Cora’s mouth dropped open, but before she could protest, Trent continued, “We’ll make arrangements for you to visit Cora weekly. At your age, that should be more than enough. Be ready to leave by nightfall.”
Bray’s jaw was tight, but he nodded.
He nodded!
Cora Glanced toward the window. It appeared to be mid-morning, if not afternoon. Panic engulfed her.
“You can’t leave so soon.” Unconsciously, her fingers tightened around Bray’s hand. I need you. She couldn’t say the last out loud. Not with both Trent and Knox listening so intently. Not while still feeling the bite of Mace’s pain.
Bray filtered her meaning anyway. He smiled that warm, reassuring smile of his. “I would stay if I could reconcile allowing our captors to evade justice. But they must account for their sins lest others suffer in our stead.”
At that, she dodged his gaze, grudgingly ceding his point. That madness couldn’t continue.
“And to do that, I need to be free to walk in the sun once more without weakening.” He placed his hand on the side of her face, rubbing his thumb along her cheek.
Oh, she was so not about to tear up!
Clearing her throat, she turned to Trent, changing the subject. “Mace told me that I should ask you about my blood test. That there’s something I don’t know.” She lifted her chin. “Care to enlighten me?”
Trent shrugged, as though he couldn’t care less. “Your DNA links you directly to the Conwell bloodline.”
“I know that. What does that mean? Why are they so special?”
He gave her the same look Knox did when he wasn’t sold on her story. “The original Conwells were an ancient line of hybrid witches.”
“Hybrid?”
Trent made a study of her expression. “Yes, Cora. You are part witch, and part succubus.”
Chapter 39
Cora wasn’t sure if s
he should laugh or not. She really, really wanted to laugh. To have Trent, who was in no way the prankster type, holler, “fooled you!” But Trent’s solemn face said he wasn’t joking.
She glanced over at Knox, who jutted his chin in a silent confirmation that still managed to relay his skepticism of her ignorance.
Bombshell, meet brain.
A fucking succubus? She hadn’t even had time to assimilate the idea of being a witch!
She’d heard stories of succubae; something about them seducing men to steal their seed. Ew. Nothing but myth, her mind rationalized. They don’t exist. But then, neither did witches up until a few months ago…
“What are you saying?” She did laugh then; a pitchy, self-conscious sound filled with every ounce of her anxiety. “That I’m a…succubus?” She had a hard time choking out the word.
“Partly,” Trent qualified evenly.
She shook her head. “That’s beyond ridiculous. Succubi are demons. They seduce and trick men.”
“You said it,” Knox interjected. He wore a self-satisfied expression.
She cut a sharp glare at him. Just as Mace, he must have known about this. Yet neither of them had said anything. She would have expected that sort of thing from Knox—he probably believed she’d known it all along—but Mace…the magnitude of all he’d kept from her, all he’d omitted crashed into her mind like a rogue wave, threatening to crumble her.
Bray jumped in, “The myths are mostly inaccurate. Succubi aren’t demons. They had just been labeled as such by human religious leaders—”
She clung to his words like a life raft.
“—Long ago, as a species, they were dying out. So to save themselves, they interbred with a most powerful family. Your ancestors.”
Her head jerked toward him so fast her dizziness redoubled. “You knew about this as well? About me?”
“I only learned of your lineage at the cabin when Trent announced your surname. It explained why your blood is so much more potent than most others. I was going to ask you why you hadn’t been more open with me about your heritage, however, the time was never right. But now I can see that you were completely unaware.”
Knox rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Although she could imagine his thoughts easily enough: you too have fallen for her guise.
His scathing looks and sarcastic noises were becoming background noise.
“Wouldn’t there have been signs that I was a…another kind of creature?” Not that she’d had any signs she was a witch to begin with. Perhaps her parent’s binding spell had also suppressed her succubi nature, if there was such a thing. “And if not demon, what are succubi, anyway?”
Bray rubbed his palm against the back of his neck, seeming to grow uncomfortable.
Cora swallowed, readying for the worst.
“You screw men for sustenance,” Knox blurted with obvious pleasure.
Cora’s entire body must have blushed the deepest shade of crimson.
“Ahem.” Bray lowered his arm, slanting a glare at Knox. “For an accurate explanation you may want to do some research for yourself. But basically, from what I understand, succubi garner energy and can sometimes heal from the act of, uh, intercourse, often taking on several lovers.”
Her head dropped into her hands. Oh, goddess. This couldn’t be happening. She’d never siphoned energy from the men she’d been with! That’s something one would remember. Right?
Although, in hindsight, sex did tend to energize her. After a night with Bray, she remembered feeling better than ever, even coming off months of torture. And was it Mace’s blood that had fully healed her that night in the motel, or their impromptu liaison?
She inhaled slowly, then exhaled, trying to alleviate the sudden sensation of lacking control destiny-wise.
Inhale.
Exhale.
What does this change, really? Just her outlook on life. No biggie. Everyone needs to make room for personal growth. But into a whole other creature? A new set of values? An all new history to acquaint herself with? She’d already done that once. She didn’t want to do it again.
How many more times will her world flip over on itself?
Jackknife was more like it.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I’m still me…It doesn’t matter what they say I am. What they think.
The greatest trait she could boast was her ability to rise up every time she fell. Overcoming the obstacles in her life has been what has shaped her from the very start; fighting to survive, even in the moments when she’d wished for death.
She sat up.
Inhale.
Compared to torture, this bit of news was fairly pale. She could handle this.
Exhale.
“So,” she said, striving to hide the tremors in her voice. “I’m a succubus. I wish there was a good response to that.”
“You’re doing fine,” Bray said.
That earned another eye roll from Knox, but again he said nothing. In fact, he’d been unusually quiet. She would have expected a barrage of accusations and insinuations. Some inappropriate sex jokes. Instead, for the most part, he’d merely cocked his head at her curiously. She scanned him, but found him closed off completely. Did his subdued behavior have something to do with that dark bruise around his left eye?
“What happened to you?” she asked him.
Knox gave her a crooked grin. “Your champion here thought I’d been too rough with you. He hasn’t figured out yet how much you like that.”
She glanced at Bray whose expression had gone stone still as though he were fighting the urge to blacken Knox’s other eye.
Cora was inclined to let him. She turned to Knox once more, needing to strip that cocky look off his face. “Between the two of you, I prefer what Bray does to me.”
His frown was deep, surprising her by how well her remark had taken him down a notch. But could that have truly bothered him? The thought was both alarming and unnerving, but headier than anything else, spurring her to do something reckless.
Challenging him with a laser hard gaze, she placed her hand firmly on Bray’s thick thigh. From the corner of her eye she caught Bray’s chest jutting a fraction.
Knox’s anger speared her through the bond, nearly stealing her breath. In the next instant, he was shuttered once more, his expression bland and bored, making her question the truth of what she’d felt.
“Come, angel,” Bray said, his tone an octave lower. “We only have a few hours before I leave, let’s not waste it with these two.”
A bit dazed, she nodded and allowed Bray to lead her through the kitchen and down into the hidden cavern. The torches were still lit.
“It doesn’t bother you to be down here?” she asked.
“There’s an uneasiness. I’ll give you that.” He grabbed her hand and directed her through the cave. “I was in that dark prison for so long I thought I would never be free again, thought I would die there, until the day I caught sight of an angel.” He turned and stared at her with an intensity that gripped her heart. “I know you think there’s nothing real between us, that we are bound only by the dark bond and unwanted circumstance, but for me it’s so much more than that. The day you were brought to me was the day my life restarted. You delivered light to my darkness. And with you, I can do anything.”
An overflow of emotion choked away any reply she could have made.
He ushered her forward once more. They wound through the cave past the entrance to the compound till they reached the small pool at a dead end. The pool was illuminated from below the surface where an underwater passage led to the vast ocean outside. Soft light refracted off the rough ceiling. There must be some natural crystal somewhere under the water that was hitting the sun just right, because alongside dancing blues and purples were brilliant greens, oranges, and reds, making the whole place appear ethereal.
As she was transfixed, Bray stepped up behind her, placed his thumbs on the pressure points of her neck, and began a languid massage. Her
eyelids drooped of their own volition.
“How did it go with Mace?” he asked then, as if knowing the question would tense her.
“As well as one can expect.”
“He’s not happy?”
“Would you be if I had bonded you first and then ran off and bonded two other vampires and then slept with one of them?”
“First of all, you didn’t run off. You were kidnapped. Second, you didn’t bond anyone on purpose, not even Mace.” His fingers made a kind of magic of his own along her neck, relaxing her. She tried to allow his words to do the same. “Third, and this is the most important one, I’m pretty sure Mace understands how irresistible I am. You can hardly be held responsible for your actions.”
She laughed at that. A real laugh. It felt good.
He removed his hands and strode toward the pool, shrugging out of his shirt as he went.
Her breath stopped when she caught sight of all that rippling muscle. The tattoo that wrapped his right shoulder and bicep continued down his shoulder blade. His jeans were slung low on narrow hips and were just baggy enough to hint at the curve of his buttocks and thick leg muscles.
He reached around to the front of his jeans, and she didn’t seem to have enough time to react before the fabric fell.
Her mouth went dry.
He lowered himself into the water and crossed to the other side, finding a perch that faced her. Dizzying ebbs of aquamarine obscured his naked body from the chest down.
That water, with him in it, looked too tempting.
His arms came up to rest along the edge of the pool as he took on an expression she hadn’t seen him use before. Playful? Almost self-assured. Did he automatically think she was coming in there with him? That she was so easily seduced?
Because she was a mother-freaking-succubus?
Although, since the moment he’d removed his shirt, desire had been slowly flooding her. Not as strongly as it had in their shack, but still noticeable. Her body heated, loosened…craved.
Thinking back, she realized this was her normal response to a beautiful male poised for her taking. Not that she always gave in. Was this her succubi nature? Or something more natural? He was beautiful to behold, cut as if by chisel and hammer. Any woman, human or otherwise, would be tempted by him. So did that make her normal?