Magic Bleeds

by IIona Andrews

“What, again? Why am I not surprised?”

  “What do you mean, again? You stood me up, remember?”

  “You were relieved I didn’t show up.”

  Argh. “Let’s review. I cooked the dinner. I made you a pie. I set the table. I took a shower. I put on makeup. I bought condoms, Curran. And then I sat in my kitchen for hours, waiting for you. I sat and waited for three hours. Then I called to the Keep and was told not to contact you again. And you have the audacity to snarl at me?”

  He showed me his teeth. “The phone call came when Doolittle was setting my bones. It went to Mahon, who thought it wasn’t important. It never got to me. I had no idea you had called. It was a fuckup, it happened on my end, and I accept full responsibility for it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “On that we’re in complete agreement.”

  His eyes flashed. “But you, you didn’t even try to find me and figure out what happened.”

  “You made me feel this small.” I held my thumb and index finger barely apart. “Was I supposed to crawl to the Keep, collapse at your feet, and beg you to take me?”

  He snarled. “You were supposed to march to the Keep and punch me in the face. That would’ve been fine. But you ran away.”

  The fury in his eyes made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  “I was trying to avoid a conflict between the Pack and the Order, you stupid idiot!”

  “Bullshit.” He kept going like he didn’t hear me. “You could’ve found me. You could’ve demanded an explanation. Instead your bright idea to deal with this mess was not to talk to me. Do you get off on having me chase after you like some sixteen-year-old?”

  “Twelve tops. Sixteen is giving you too much credit.”

  He bit the air. “Look who’s talking.”

  My voice was so bitter I could taste it. “It doesn’t matter. I thought you wanted to be with me. You made me want”—I struggled with words—“things I didn’t think I would ever get. I thought we had a chance. But it’s over now. Thank you, Your Majesty, for curing my temporary madness and showing me how it was all my fault. I apologize for trashing your love-me gym. It was a mistake on my part. I will replace your bench and comforter. You can leave now.”

  He stared at me. If he didn’t leave, I would kill him.

  “Do you want me to spell it out? I’ll speak slowly. You broke my heart and now you’re stomping on it. I hate you. Get the hell out of my apartment, or I swear I’ll beat you bloody.”

  His face was dark. “You want me to grovel? Is that it?”

  “Come to think of it, groveling would be nice, but no, I just want you to go. Leave.”

  His eyes flashed at me. “Make me.”

  I lunged left and kicked him. He made no move to avoid it. My foot smashed into his stomach. Like kicking a tree sheathed in rubber. The kick knocked him back a couple of steps. He grunted. “That’s it, baby?”

  I whipped about, picking up momentum, and kicked him in the head. He staggered back, looking a bit unfocused.

  I forced a grin out. “Rang your bell, baby?” Shit. I’d hit him with everything I had and he didn’t go down. He should’ve been out like a light.

  Curran shook his head and spat blood onto my carpet. The gold in his eyes burned me. He started toward me, his jaw set.

  He wouldn’t take another kick to the head, and kicking his body was useless. I snapped a sidekick to his knee. He knocked my foot aside and grabbed at me. I dodged and hammered a punch into his side. He turned into it and my fist bounced off his back. Ow. I sank my heel into his knee again, driving it with all my power. He grunted, but kept coming. I grabbed a lamp off the nightstand and bashed him with it. He caught it, ripped it out of my hands, and tossed it aside.

  I was almost to the wall. My room to maneuver shrank to nothing.

  I smashed my knuckles into his solar plexus. He exhaled in a sharp breath and drove me into the wall. His forearm pinned my left arm. I hammered my right fist into his ear. He growled, caught my wrist, and locked it against the wall above my head.

  I had no room to move. Game over.

  He crushed me against the wall, bracing me with his body. I strained, trying to break free. He might have been made of stone for all the good it did me. Except he was made of flesh and he was stark naked.

  I strained every muscle I had. Nothing. Outmuscling him was beyond me.

  “Feel better?” he inquired.

  “Lean over to the left, Your Majesty.”

  “Want a shot at my jugular with your teeth?” He leaned to the right, exposing his thick neck. “Carotid’s better.”

  “My teeth are too small. I wouldn’t cause enough damage for you to bleed out. Jugular is better—if I rip it a bit and get air bubbles into the bloodstream, they’ll be in your heart in two breaths. You would pass out at my feet.” A normal human would die, but it took more than an air embolism to bring a shapeshifter down permanently.

  “Here you go.” He leaned his head to me, his neck so close to my lips, I felt the heat coming off his skin. His breath was warm against my ear. His voice was a ragged snarl. “I miss you.”

  This wasn’t happening.

  “I worry about you.” He dipped his head and looked into my eyes. “I worry something stupid will happen and I won’t be there and you’ll be gone. I worry we won’t ever get a chance and it’s driving me out of my skull.”

  No, no, no, no . . .

  We stared at each other. The tiny space between us felt too hot. Muscles bulged on his naked frame. He looked feral.

  Mad gold eyes stared into mine. “Do you miss me, Kate?”

  I closed my eyes, trying to shut him out. I could lie and then we’d be back to square one. Nothing would be resolved. I’d still be alone, hating him and wanting him.

  He grabbed my shoulders and shook me once. “Do you miss me?”

  I took the plunge. “Yes.”

  He kissed me. The taste of him was like an explosion of color in a gray room. It was a fierce, possessive kiss and I melted into it. His tongue brushed mine, eager and hot. I licked at it, tasting him again. My arms slid around his neck.

  He growled, pulling me to him, and kissed my lips, my cheeks, my neck . . . “Don’t make me leave.”

  Not a chance. I gulped to catch my breath. “If you leave, how will I strangle you?”

  He hoisted me up onto his hips and I molded myself to him and kissed him on the mouth, stealing his breath. I didn’t want to let go. His hands slid over my body, caressing my neck, moving to my shoulders, then my breasts. His fingers brushed my nipples, sending shivers through me. I arched my body, grinding into him, faster and faster.

  He made a noise, halfway between a growl and a purr. It triggered something deep, on a primeval female level, and I pressed tighter to him, running my hands over the cords of the muscles on his back, licking his neck, kissing him over and over, so he would make it again.

  Curran swung me off the wall and carried me across the room, bumping into things. We stumbled onto the bed, tipped over at an angle. Curran pulled it down with one hand and we fell on it, his big body on top of mine. He dragged his mouth from my lips and kissed my neck, painting heat down my throat. My nipples ached. He pulled the gown down off my shoulder and sucked on my breast. Heat shot through me, making me hyper and impatient. I felt so empty and I wanted to be full of him. His scent and the heat coming off him made me drunk.

  Curran caught my arms and pushed them above my head. His left hand closed on my wrists. He kissed me with a low hungry growl, teeth nipping at my skin. His hot hand slid up my thigh, sending me into shivers, and I heard my underwear rip. He tossed it aside, thrust his hand under my butt, lifting my hips, and bent down between my thighs.

  Oh, my God.

  I screamed.

  He licked me, sucking, and all of me faded except for the hot knot of pleasure down below. Every stroke, every touch of his tongue, made it grow hotter and hotter, building the pressure, unbearable, wonderful, overpowering. Finally
it burst through me in a searing jolt, from inside all the way to my skin. Curran released me. I cried out and grabbed at him. The heat dissolved into a cascade of waves.

  “Condoms,” I breathed.

  “Where?”

  I pointed past him to where the bed used to be.

  He strode off and I almost growled. I didn’t want him to let go of me. The world reeled. I was light-headed, as if drunk.

  Curran reappeared with a condom.

  He peeled open a packet. For an absurd second I thought the condom wouldn’t fit. Somehow he got it on, loomed over me, and kissed my neck. His teeth grazed my skin. He clenched me to him.

  I swung my legs around his hips.

  The huge muscles of his back bulged under my hands. He thrust, and I cried out again as he slid inside me, filling me, hot and hard. My body shuddered. He thrust again and again, building into a smooth rhythm, and I moved with him, rocking and trying not to pass out from bliss. Another orgasm exploded in me, tearing a scream from my mouth. Curran thrust deep. My body clenched around him. He growled and emptied himself, and we collapsed onto the blankets.

  I was out of breath.

  It had to be a hallucination, but I was so happy, I didn’t care.

  He pulled me to him, and I put my head on his chest. His hand caressed my hair. His heartbeat was even and strong. We lay together as the sweat slowly cooled on our skin.

  I rolled over and punched his ribs. He grunted.

  “That’s for that damn phone call.”

  He caught me into a hug, pinning my arms. “I think a mosquito bit me.”

  I tried to pull away but he had me wrapped up.

  Gray eyes looked into mine. “Why didn’t you come to the Keep?”

  “Oh, I planned on it. Had my boots on, ready to go, when I remembered it would cause an interagency disaster. I was being responsible.”

  He shook with laughter.

  “What?”

  “You? Responsible?”

  “Shut up. How was I supposed to know that you let two little bears hurt you, Goldilocks?”

  “Ah, yes, that mouth. I missed it.” He crushed me to him in a fierce hug. “All mine now.” My bones whined.

  “Can’t . . . breathe,” I squeaked.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, letting me go just enough to inhale.

  We lay together for a while, until the cold air from the open window got to me and I shivered.

  “You’re cold.” He rose and went to close the window.

  My gown clung to my legs and bunched around my waist. I wriggled and slid it off.

  “We’ve ruined your Princess Buttercup dress,” he said.

  “I have the worst luck with that dress.” I raised myself on the elbow to kick it off and caught sight of my apartment. We’d wrecked the place. “At least the building is still standing.”

  “I pride myself on restraint,” he said.

  I laughed.

  We picked the pillows up off the floor and found the blanket. He slid into bed next to me, and I wrapped myself around him, my head on his chest.

  “What the freak said, it’s not like that,” Curran said.

  “I know,” I told him and kissed the corner of his jaw.

  “I’ve never forced anyone and I don’t lie to you.”

  “I know.”

  A long, sad whine rolled through the apartment.

  Curran frowned. “Is that your mongrel?”

  “He’s an attack poodle. I found him at an incident scene, washed him, shaved him, and now he guards the house and barfs on the carpet.”

  “What’s his name?”

  I stretched against him. “Grendel.”

  “Odd name for a poodle.” He turned, taking full advantage of the fact that my breasts were squished against him.

  “He came into a mead hall full of warriors in the middle of the night and scared them half to death.”

  “Ahh. That explains it.” His hand caressed my shoulder, then my back. It was a deceptively casual caress, and it made me want to rub myself against him. He leaned in closer and kissed me. His teeth grazed my lower lip. He kissed my chin and began working his way down my neck. Mmmm . . .

  “I read lions can have sex thirty times a day,” I murmured.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but it only lasts half a minute. Would you prefer the twenty-second special?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What woman could pass on that offer?”

  His hand cupped my breast. His fingers brushed my nipple and I shivered.

  “I’m not all lion,” Curran said. “But I do bounce back quickly.”

  “How quickly?”

  He shrugged. “Two minutes.”

  Oh, boy.

  “I do slow down eventually,” he said. “After the first couple of hours or so.”

  Couple of hours . . . I slid my hand down his chest to his stomach, feeling the hard ridges of muscle. I’d wanted to do that for so long. “It’s good that we have a whole box of condoms.”

  He laughed low, like a satiated predatory cat, and swung me on top of him.

  CHAPTER 18

  I OPENED MY EYES, SAW LIGHT, AND JERKED UP-RIGHT.

  The magic was still down. Thank the universe.

  The bed was back in its rightful place. Oh, good. I’d dreamed the whole thing up.

  Curran walked into the room. He wore Pack sweatpants he must’ve gotten out of my closet and nothing else. Toned muscle bulged on his chest and arms, hardened by constant exertion. He had the build of a man who fought for his life—neither too bulky, nor too lean, a perfect combination of strength and supple quickness.

  And he grinned like a man who’d had a rather long and exciting night.

  Nope. Not a dream.

  I did sleep with him. Dear God.

  Curran’s gray eyes laughed at me. “Morning.”

  “Tell me I’m still sleeping.”

  He showed me the edge of his teeth. “No.”

  I lay back down and pulled the sheet on top of me. I couldn’t have been that reckless.

  “It’s too late for that,” he said. “I’ve already seen everything. Actually I’m pretty sure I’ve already touched and tasted everything, too.”

  “I just need a moment to cope with this.”

  “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

  That was what I was afraid of.

  It occurred to me that I didn’t hear any barking. “Where is my dog?”

  “I let him out.”

  I jerked up. “On his own?”

  “He’ll come back once he’s done. He knows where the food is.”

  Curran strode over to the bed, moving silently, his bare toes gripping the floor lightly as he walked, as if he still had claws. He really was an incredibly attractive bastard. He leaned over the bed. His lips brushed mine. He kissed me. And I kissed him back. He tasted of Curran and toothpaste. Clearly, I had lost my mind.

  “Did I hurt you last night?”

  I could’ve used many words to describe last night, but pain wasn’t one of them. “No.”

  “I wasn’t sure since you told me to stop.”

  “Yes, at five in the morning.” He just kept going and going, and at about five o’clock, my body gave out. “I had to have sleep. But I’m nice and rested now.” Why did that just come out of my mouth?

  He looked like a cat who’d gotten into a pantry and had himself a cream and catnip party. “Is that a hint?”

  “Would you like it to be?” I just couldn’t stop myself.

  He grinned and slid into the bed next to me. “Yes.”

  Half an hour later, I escaped and started looking for my clothes. The air smelled of java—he’d made coffee for me.

  I got dressed and went into the kitchen to fry an omelet and call Andrea for updates.

  “You’re two hours late,” she told me. “Are you okay? You’re never late. Do you need me to come and get you?”

  “No. I’m fine. Just tired.”

  Curran loaded bread into the toa
ster.

  “Any news of my Mary?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  We dodged the bullet. “Thanks.”

  “Wait, don’t hang up.”

  “Yes?”

  Andrea lowered her voice. “Raphael found out more gossip about the gym thing.”

  Curran glanced at me.

  I had to head her off at the pass before she said something Raphael would regret. “Now isn’t the best time . . .”

  “Look, you, I’m hiding in the armory with the phone, watching the door, and whispering so nobody will overhear me. I feel like a kid cutting class hiding in the bathroom with a joint. The least you can do is hear me out. Raphael says that Curran lay there on the weight bench for fifteen whole minutes trying to lift the damn bar, even though it was welded on there.”

  Curran’s face took on an inscrutable impression.

  “Aha,” I said. “Aha” was a good word. Noncommittal.

  “He broke it.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “He broke the bar off. And then he smashed the bench with the bar. Bashed the thing to pieces.”

  Just kill me now. “Aha.”

  “He must have a lot of frustration. The man’s unstable. So watch your back, okay?”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  I hung up and looked at him. “You broke the bench.”

  “You broke it. I just finished the job.”

  “It wasn’t one of my brightest moments.”

  He shrugged. “No. I just didn’t get it until I saw the catnip. I thought you were taunting me. It was unexpected.” He growled under his breath. “I’m going to muzzle Raphael.”

  “He just wants his financial machinations approved.”

  “Are you asking me to do this for him?”

  “No.”

  I turned the gas off and got out two blue metal plates. I’d given up on breakable plates after the last time my front door got broken and demonic mermaids wrecked my kitchen. I split the omelet between the plates and stopped when Curran’s arms closed about me. He pulled me against him, pressing my back against his chest. I heard him inhale my scent. His lips grazed my temple. Here we were, alone, in my kitchen, holding each other while breakfast cooled on the table. This was some sort of alternate universe, with a different Kate, who wasn’t hunted like a wild animal and who could have these sorts of things.