Say You'll Be Mine

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Say You'll Be Mine Page 3

by Megs Pritchard

“Because you two are close together. He’s literally above our heads. Being so close can amplify the emotions you’re both feeling.”

  “Amplify? Shit, Jared. That’s a big word from you.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Jared said with a grin.

  “So, the closer together we are, the stronger the emotional connection?”

  “Yeah, and it’ll change after you mate. You can send emotions through the connection, and you know about the telepathy and image thing.”

  Miguel took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I need to go then and give him the space he needs.” Staring at Jared, Miguel asked, “You’ll let me know how he is, won’t you?”

  “You know I will.”

  “Okay.” Miguel walked into the kitchen and paused by the door. “I don’t want to leave him like this.”

  Jared gripped his shoulder. “I know you don’t, but we don’t have a choice right now.”

  Miguel glanced over his shoulder at Jared and gave him a weak smile. “Let me know how he is later.”

  “I will.”

  Miguel nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him. When he reached his truck, he got in and sat in the driver’s seat staring back at the house and the window to the bedroom he knew Jacques was in.

  It was hard to describe the emotions he could feel coming through their connection. Muted, but still there, in the background. They hadn’t even mated yet and Miguel was hyperaware of Jacques.

  Well, he would find some peace for his mate. He would find everyone who’d hurt and abused him and make them pay for what they had done. Maybe then Jacques would feel safe and they could move on and try to be a couple. Miguel wouldn’t do anything to harm Jacques, but he would do everything to keep him safe. Jacques was his and there was nothing Miguel wouldn’t do to ensure his safety.

  Chapter Four

  Jacques lay on the bed with Sacha comforting him. The way he’d reacted to Miguel. What must he think of him?

  “He knows what you went through, Jacques. He won’t think any less of you.”

  “Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

  Sacha chuckled. “You did, but don’t worry. Miguel seems like a nice guy. He calls every day to see how you are.”

  “I know.”

  “What actually happened, Jacques? What did he do?”

  “It wasn’t his fault. I just reacted. I thought he was going to hit me because I’d knocked the cup over, but he was only trying to help. I’m a mess, Sacha.”

  “No, you’re not. You’ve suffered, Jacques, and it’s going to take time and patience for you to move on. I can help you with the patience part.” Sacha chuckled.

  “Ten years, didn’t you say?” Jacques asked as he sat up.

  “Yeah, and Jared was pissed as hell when he found out I’d kept it from him. I thought I’d ruined our friendship.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  Sacha smiled, smoothing out the bedding. “No, he took me out for lunch and then we went home and mated. He’d thought about it after watching Jeremy and Donnie together and realized he wanted that for us too, that he couldn’t imagine a life without me in it.”

  “I like them,” Jacques said.

  “Yeah, they are great people. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than Jeremy.” Sacha paused, clearly thinking about what to say as Jacques waited. “You’ve been through a lot in the six months you were with Graham.” Jacques snorted, and Sacha raised an eyebrow at him. “Yes, you were a blood slave, but I know more than that happened. I know it did because you’ve told me, and Miguel does because he was there. Has it stopped him from wanting to be with you? No, because he calls every day, and he came today. He’s giving you the time you need to recover.”

  “I know,” Jacques whispered, acknowledging the truth in Sacha’s words. “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are, but take all the time you need. See him, if you want. He can come here and you two can talk and just get to know each other. Likes and dislikes, family and friends. You know, the usual stuff.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I ask, Jacques.” Sacha stood up and stretched, groaning as he rubbed his back. “Damn, man.”

  “You weren’t saying that last night.”

  Sacha flashed him a grin and walked towards the bedroom door. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat and then you can feed. You’ll need the blood after today.”

  Sighing, Jacques stood and followed Sacha downstairs, finding Jared in the kitchen already preparing food. He watched Sacha walk up to him and they shared a kiss, both smiling. The way they looked together, no one could mistake them for anything other than a couple in love.

  Jacques sat at the table and stared at the grains in the wood. He wanted that too, and he wanted to have that connection with his mate, but as soon as he thought of anything sexual with Miguel, he reacted with fear.

  He listened as they talked, discussing Sacha’s work and how his father was doing with the council. Not great, by the sounds of things, and it was frustrating him.

  “I don’t understand why they wouldn’t be more receptive to our help.”

  Jared grunted. “And admit they need help? They are too stuck up their own asses.”

  “Father said something similar yesterday.”

  “You need to find out why they won’t accept your help,” Jacques said quietly.

  “What do you know?” Jared asked, sitting at the table opposite him.

  How much could he reveal? What could he say that would help but not give away how much he actually knew? He liked Sacha and Jared, but he wasn’t sure if he completely trusted them yet. Swallowing, Jacques muttered, “I heard one of their voices while I was at Graham’s. Don’t know who.”

  Jared stared intently before saying, “You do, but you can’t say.”

  Jacques eyes flicked up to Jared’s then back down to the table. “That’s all I know.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. He’d seen enough, had heard enough to know that what they’d seen at Graham’s went further than they knew.

  “That’s all you can tell us.” Jacques pushed his chair back and froze when Jared reached out and grabbed his hand. “You’re scared, I get it. When you feel ready, tell me more, but anything you are willing to tell me now, I’d appreciate.” Jared released his wrist and Jacques stared at it but there was no mark. Jared hadn’t hurt him.

  “Just, you need to investigate the council. Please don’t ask for more than that.”

  Jared nodded and glanced at Sacha, the two obviously talking telepathically. “Sit back down, Jacques, you’re making the place look untidy.” Jared ruffled his hair as he walked past and Jacques growled at him which made him laugh.

  “Jared,” Sacha warned.

  “What? He has such long, flowing hair. I can’t help it if I feel the need to ruffle it every time he walks past.”

  “Do you have any idea how long it takes me to do my hair?” Jacques demanded, hands on hips.

  Grinning, Jared leaned back on the counter. “Why, yes, I do.”

  “Why you...” Jacques spluttered.

  “Little shit, is what you’re looking for,” Sacha said.

  “I’ve been thinking of cutting it off.”

  Jared grinned. “I don’t know if Miguel would like that. He’s told me he loves your hair.”

  “They all loved my hair. Easier to pull me around and position me how they wanted.”

  Silence descended in the kitchen and Jacques slammed a hand over his mouth. That was the last thing he’d meant to say. Jared straightened from the counter and moved slowly towards him. He pulled a chair out. “Sit,” he ordered.

  Jacques did and stared at Sacha, who was frowning at Jared. Jared left the kitchen but returned a minute later with a pair of scissors in his hands.

  “Fuck Miguel. I’ll cut it now, if you want.”

  Jacques trembled in his chair, staring at the scissors Jared held in his hand. He remembered all the times his hair had been pulled, or grabbed
, or ripped out. Slowly, he nodded. He needed to do this. Cutting his hair may help to dim those memories.

  “I’m not the best. When you’re ready, we’ll take you to a proper hairdresser, but for now, I’ll do the best I can.”

  Nodding again, Jacques breathed heavily. He closed his eyes and nodded again, stronger, firmer this time.

  “I’m going to touch your hair now, Jacques.”

  God, Jared knew to tell him. He felt him pull all the strands back and as the scissors cut through, a tear fell. Sacha moved over to him and held his hand, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

  More tears followed the more Jared cut and Jacques watched his hair fall to the floor. It was a cathartic moment for him. Like watching the hair fall away removed the strength the memories had on him.

  Eventually, Jared stood in front of him and nodded. Sacha leaned closer and lifted his hand slowly, so Jacques could see it and ran his fingers through the short strands at the front.

  “You’ve done a good job, Jared. I’m impressed.”

  “It’s... it’s okay?”

  Sacha handed him a tissue and smiled. “It is. Maybe a little tidying up needed, but for now, it’s good.”

  Jacques lifted his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt so different now. He was so used to having long hair that this shortened version felt alien to him. He stood and walked over to the mirror, gasping in shock when he saw it.

  It was so much shorter than before. Jared had cut it close to the back and sides and had left a little length on top.

  “Could do with the clippers on the back and sides to smooth it out. Want me to do it?”

  Jacques looked at Jared through the mirror and nodded. “Please.”

  Dropping a kiss on Sacha’s lips, Jared disappeared again, and when he returned he had the clippers. Ten minutes later, and a lot of swearing from Jared, Jacques was done.

  Once again, he stood in front of the mirror. Jacques stared at the male in front of him. He barely recognized himself. He’d had long hair for years and now he could suddenly see his face. But that wasn’t the only difference. It felt strange to not be carrying the weight. His head felt lighter.

  “Use less shampoo,” Jared said, gathering the clippers and scissors.

  Jacques laughed suddenly. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

  “Right, Jared. Clean up this kitchen. It’s time to eat.” Sacha ordered, grinning at his mate.

  With a final look in the mirror, a quick smile at the new him, Jacques turned away.

  ❊❊❊

  Miguel sat on his sofa watching a football match. Not that he was paying any attention to it. His thoughts were firmly fixed on one man. His mate.

  He’d fucked up. Somehow it was his fault, and he needed to find a way to make it up to him. He needed to fix the mess he’d created.

  He leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. It had started out good. They were talking, starting to get to know each other. He’d made him smile, and that was a bonus in Miguel’s eyes. And then the cup happened. He should have known how Jacques would react. He knew what had been done to him during his time as a blood slave. He knew what Jacques had endured, what he’d suffered, but he’d acted instinctively, and, in that moment, he’d lost all the ground he’d made.

  He wanted to find every single one of the men who had taken something from his mate and tear them apart. Make them suffer like his Jacques had. Make them plead and beg, make them wish their life was over.

  He rubbed the heaviness in his chest. Ever since he’d met Jacques, he carried this void around within him. A hole in his chest that was just for his mate.

  He had to give him time and part of him wanted to, but another part wanted to protect his mate and cherish him. He wanted to make sure he was safe and cared for. Make sure he was loved, but how could Miguel do that when he had his mate running scared from him?

  His cell beeped, and he picked it up, staring in shock as a picture appeared. Jacques, with much shorter hair. The hair Miguel wanted to run his fingers through was now gone and Jacques was stunning without it.

  The text from Jared with a brief explanation why had Miguel closing his eyes, his head dropping and his heart aching.

  Miguel quickly texted Jared back. Does he seem better now it’s gone?

  Yeah, he does.

  Then it was worth cutting it.

  Miguel, he cried when I cut it. Damn almost had me in tears too.

  Such a hard man Jared but seriously though thanks, man.

  No problem. Call him tomorrow. Give him a day to get used to the changes.

  Will do.

  Staring at the picture on his cell, Miguel ran his finger over the image of his mate. He looked younger now his hair was gone. It even looked like some of the stress he carried around with him had lessened too.

  He saved the photo and grabbed his half empty bottle of beer. Draining it, he went to the kitchen and grabbed another one from the refrigerator and popped the cap.

  Leaning back on the counter, he unlocked his cell and stared at the picture again. Damn, his mate was hot. Even though he knew what Jacques had suffered, was suffering, Miguel still couldn’t stop himself from imagining fucking Jacques. He wanted to lay him out on a bed and worship his body, touch him, kiss him and lick him everywhere.

  Groaning, his rubbed his hand over his hard dick, enjoying the friction.

  Was he sick to be thinking these thoughts about his mate? His mate who had been fed from and abused? He couldn’t stop himself and he had his hard dick out and in his hand within seconds. Stroking his hard length, Miguel closed his eyes, picturing Jacques kneeling at his feet, sucking and stroking him.

  It took mere seconds before Miguel was coming, crying out, calling Jacques’ name as ropes off come covered his hand and the floor below him. He panted as the sweat on his skin cooled and he leaned against the counter until he was sure his legs would support him.

  “I’m a sick fuck,” he muttered.

  He grabbed some paper towels and cleaned up as best he could, then walked towards his bedroom before moving into the bathroom, where he stripped and stepped into the shower, jumping as the cold spray hit in.

  He needed to figure his shit out. He wanted his mate, thought he was fucking gorgeous and incredibly strong. The wait was going to kill him, but wait he would as that was all he could do.

  Chapter Five

  The table was littered with books and piles of paperwork with notes written on them. Sacha sat opposite, his head buried in an old diary, reading the entries from decades ago, a frown creasing his brow. He had a pen in his mouth and was busy chewing the end as his eyes scanned the page in front of him.

  Jacques stared at a family tree, seeing the obvious clearly. Their numbers were decreasing. Maybe it was natural selection or survival of the fittest. Sure, vampires were stronger and faster, but they had always had fewer births in comparison to humans. Now, they only had single births, and in some cases, none at all.

  Sacha believed it started after the Industrial Revolution and the human population boom that occurred then. It made sense. They’d come out of hiding at that time too, realizing that they couldn’t keep living in secret. They’d had struggles with humans after they’d revealed their existence, but overall most humans treated them normally. They overcame their difference and now lived in relative peace.

  Mates, and subsequently, matings had decreased dramatically after they’d come out. Vampires had spread across the globe, their numbers diminishing in their hometowns. Less chance to meet vampire mates, but wouldn’t human mates be more accessible and easier to find? Jacques muttered under his breath, his eyes drifting over the paper in his hands. So obvious, but still unnoticed.

  “You’re right, Sacha. Live birth rates drop after we came out of hiding. Not at first, but within a few decades.”

  “It’s obvious when you have the numbers in front of you. Do you see how many marriages occur with someone other than a mate? They quadrupled a decade or two later. It
’s almost like we forgot mates actually existed.”

  “That’s so quick! Within a couple of decades? I’d have thought it would have taken much longer.”

  “Me too, but the numbers and records say differently. Father’s still trying to access council records. They seem to be blocking him, politely.” Sacha pulled a face and Jacques smiled.

  “My parents are mates, but other than you guys here, they are the only mated couple I know. I have a brother and a sister. My parents are both vampires too, not mixed like you and Jared. Some vampires don’t agree with mixed relationships, so if they find their mate is human, maybe they refused them.”

  “Oh yes. I know all about those type of vampires as does my father. You have no idea how many vampires actually objected to my mating. Why would you turn away from your mate? Give up that chance of happiness simply because he or she was human. It’s stupid.”

  “Vampires objecting to mixed matings? If they’re anything like my family, then yes, I do know all about those sorts of vampires.”

  Sacha glanced at the paperwork covering the table. “But still, for these numbers...”

  “I wonder if that’s why...” Jacques stared at his unmarked wrists. For so long, they’d been covered in open wounds from the numerous bites inflicted on him. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt and ran his fingers over the scar Graham had left him. A permanent reminder of his ordeal.

  Sacha looked up from the book in his hands, a frown marring his features. “Wonder...?”

  “Blood slaves. There’s been a resurgence of blood slaves recently. Going back to the old ways. All in secret though. Can’t have the humans or vampires who disagree finding out.”

  “The old ways didn’t work then, so why go back to them now?” Sacha placed the book on the table and grabbed a pen and pad. “How many were with you?” Sacha grimaced when he realized what he’d said. “Shit, I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

  Jacques waved Sacha’s apology away. “I know of ten, but we were moved around. I can only guess to the actual number, but I would say over three hundred at least. My number was three, one, two.”

 

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