by Amanda Vyne
“I can’t” – her breath rushed out and she swallowed hard – “be vulnerable.” She lifted her head and met his eyes. “Ever. Not again.”
Something dark and dangerous swelled in him. She had been broken once, shredded from the inside out. She feared her inability to survive again, feared the return of all the pain, and feared the darkness of it. He could feel it in her. He represented that for her. And that hurt.
Yet they didn’t have the options of other couples. They weren’t married like humans. They were bound by blood. He could never leave her for another; his body could crave only her, his mind seek only hers, his soul touch only hers. Her lost childhood and half Sanguen blood could never have prepared her to understand any of it.
He reached down to frame her small heart-shaped face in his large hands. “Listen very carefully, baby. There will be nothing to survive, nothing to overcome. We are it, all of it. There is nothing more for us beyond each other. You have only to accept it. You must accept it. I fear you will only continue to hurt if you don’t. And when you feel pain, so do I.”
Her eyes lingered in his and he held his breath. Waiting. How could he communicate to her what a blood bond was? Would she understand?
Sliding over him, she brushed her lips against his, her smooth, warm flesh pressing and gliding against the hard angles of his as she rose above him. His body instinctively surged to meet hers, answering a silent call. Although the shadows hadn’t completely left her eyes she was steadier, her voice sure.
“It’s a start,” she whispered and closed her eyes as she sank down around him.
Chapter Twelve
“So you finally made an honest man of him.”
Kel jerked her head up from where she was tying the laces of her mesh sneakers. After a moment of surprise, she narrowed her dark eyes at the big Drachon. “What the hell are you talking about, Raife?”
“Come on, short stack, every member of the Arcane recognizes a bonded mate. And since I happen to know a bit about what happens between mated Sanguen…” He wiggled his eyebrows.
Kel rolled her eyes. He probably couldn’t even imagine what happened between mated Sanguen, but since she couldn’t think of a single string of words to describe it, she snorted instead and resorted to satire. “Damn, Merrick, I cringe to think of what the Barbies did in your house.”
Raife tossed his bag on the floor with a chuckle.
Kel dropped to the mat to stretch her muscles out, eyeing the big man thoughtfully. Raife and she got along well enough. There were no worries about her bluntness being hurtful. No topic was taboo for them. She was comfortable with Raife. Then again, she didn’t crave him until her desire for him obliterated all other pleasures.
Why couldn’t she have bonded with Raife? She’d have been able to go on as usual without feeling as though she’d lost some very significant part of herself. She hadn’t signed up for this blood bond stuff and it was a lot to get used to. It made her feel off her game. She’d gone from rocking it solo to being part of a dance team. Instead of only worrying about her own dance steps she had to take into consideration how her partner moved before she moved herself. She should be grateful she didn’t have to wear high heels.
“It’s not all that bad, short stuff.”
Kel blinked. She was sitting on the mat with her hands gripping her foot and her chest halfway down to her knee. Raife was crouched down next to her, his golden eyes warm.
“Easy for you to say. Even if it were all Xs and Os, I think both of you are missing one very significant obstacle. Hello, I’m a crossbreed.” Kel lifted her hands palms up with raised brows. “The Ferrar doyen ordered me dumped in a Triumvirate home some fifteen years ago. I’m fairly certain he had no intention of my returning as a member of the fam.
“Hell,” Kel muttered as she widened her legs and pressed her body forward to the mat. “The whole thing’s probably a huge security risk for Incog altogether.”
“How’s that?” Raife had pulled a pair of light sneakers from his bag and was jerking the laces tight around his massive foot.
“It seems my blood is like a disease. I’ve infected him or something. Doc tested his blood and it tests like the blood of a crossbreed. He’s even getting the hearing and eyesight.”
Raife laughed. “Can’t see how that’s a problem. You gave the bloodsucker an upgrade.”
“Yeah, but Sanguen don’t have the laid-back attitude the Drachon do. It’s all about the blood and the purer the better.”
Raife snorted this time with a shake of his head. “Yeah, well, when the options are scarce you wouldn’t let a little thing like race or blood get in your way either. They’re just a bunch of pretentious bastards. No offense to the hubby.”
Kel narrowed a look at him. “Yeah, well, I’ve just demoted one of their sons. They could involve the Triumvirate to have me eliminated. It’d be a real bitch for the Incog to have one of their agents being hunted by the damn Triumvirate Guardians, especially since we try to stay under their radar.”
Raife’s golden eyes met hers. “I wouldn’t worry about it much. If there is one thing all Arcane respect it’s the bond. Even the Sanguen would respect a biological bond. If he’s a Ferrar and a marshal, then he’s probably the future leader of the House. You die, he dies. Seems a bit counterproductive to me.”
Kel shrugged.
One of Raife’s thick brows shot up. “But I think your issue is not with them accepting you but with you getting over them. Fate really is a son of a bitch, bonding you with a son of the House that turned you out.”
“Yeah, well, we all got something to cry about.” She for one never cried. Not since the night she’d heaved the dead body of a Guardian off her after clawing his throat out. She’d been fifteen.
The Ferrar doyen had done more to her than just simply turn her out. But that was between her and the nightmares she rarely remembered upon waking. Nightmares that Gabe appeared to be taking personally. He wanted her to speak of them, to bring them out into the open, but Kel couldn’t see how that could help either of them. They were ugly and speaking about them didn’t make them disappear or make him any less a member of the House that had brought them on her. Knowing the details wouldn’t ease the anger she could sense seething inside him, and she didn’t want Gabe to see her that way. His anger and pity would bring them back to life for her.
Kel shook herself. She didn’t want to think they still had that much of an effect on her, but she had to admit Raife had struck very closely to the truth. She’d come to terms with what had been done to her years ago. She was who she was because of it. And she was damn proud of what she was. Or at least she’d thought so.
Gabe was changing all of that. The thought of having to return to the Ferrar compound made it feel as if she wasn’t as at peace with her past as she needed to be. She hated loose ends. It made her feel…angry. No, it made her damn furious. It made her want to face the doyen and force him to accept what he did. She wanted to ram it down his throat with her fist.
“Then just do it.”
Kel turned to look over at her friend. Raife had his eyes closed as he did his little meditation thing and there was a small smile on his face. He cracked one eye open and looked at her. “The image was very vivid and you were projecting. If you’re looking for a voice of reason you are looking at the wrong person. Sanguen and Drachon are not exactly best friends. I’d hold the bloodsucker down for you.”
Kel smiled. There was a very old yet fierce rivalry between the two races of Arcane. Raife seemed even bitterer about it than usual. He must be getting worse.
She looked at him with a discerning eye. He looked worn. His eyes seemed a bit glossier than the last time she’d seen him, almost feverish, and there were dark smudges beneath them. His face had an unnatural flush to it and there was an edginess about him. Older than most living unmated Drachon, Raife was on borrowed time. And he was starting to look it.
Kel wasn’t a hold-your-hand-and-brush-your-hair-back type of girl. She
believed in action.
She jumped to her feet and looked down at him. “What do I gotta do to get you motivated? Challenge your manhood?”
Raife heaved to his feet. He was a large man but surprisingly agile. And Drachon were damn fast. They couldn’t shimmer but the short bursts of speed they could put on made it seem like they did sometimes. “No, I think just your insinuating that I played with Barbies will be sufficient.”
The next thing Kel knew she was flat on her back, but Raife didn’t stay near her to gloat. After all, he wasn’t a fool and he and Kel had been sparring every week for over five years now. With a laugh Kel vanished. Raife blocked a kick as she reappeared to his right.
Both of them enjoyed the beating.
GABE STOOD BEFORE the heavily tinted window of his father’s private office. The sun was a bright fiery ball in the clear sky. It was midmorning and most of the complex was still asleep. Barely more than a week ago he would have been too.
Until Kel.
As it was he’d woken just before sunrise to the feel of Kel’s warm little body curled up next to him. He felt alive and warm after what seemed like a lifetime of living in shadows. He’d been so cold before Kel and hadn’t even known it. The most startling realization was that he might have happily lived his life with whomever the House elders chose as his mate and never been the wiser. Kel was a miracle to him.
And he was a nightmare to her.
They continued to look for the blood dealer but were unable to locate him or the one surviving Sanguen who’d tried to kill him. Kel couldn’t even catch their scent. They’d used vinegar to distort the scent of their trail. His little bloodmate had used some rather creative expressions to describe her irritation at discovering that little maneuver. He almost smiled at the memory.
The autopsy of the little girl had given them nothing besides solidly linking his dead partner to her when her blood matched the vial Kel had found on the scene the night of his death. The only other information the autopsy offered was of a personal nature to him.
Dr. Mahoney said there were signs that the girl had been sexually abused, repeatedly. Kel was certain their perp wasn’t responsible for the sexual abuse and her conviction that the abuse was from the home insinuated a truth he had suspected but hadn’t wanted to believe.
Then there was the nightmare. She murmured in her sleep, her fear and pain palpable. He wanted her to trust him, to let him share her fear, but she would only stare at him with those chocolate eyes, their liquid depths full of pain and doubt and anger.
Since she wouldn’t speak to him of it, he did the only thing he could to warm her and bring the light back into her beautiful eyes. Her body never turned him away, and he was desperate for her. She hadn’t protested when he sipped from her more often than his body required. He was careful to not take too much but he craved the connection, and she seemed to need to give something of herself.
When the nightmares had come over the last two nights, he only pulled her into the shell of his body, whispering to her and merging his mind with hers to soothe her while she slept, his anger and frustration slowly burning him alive.
“Gabrial. I hope this is important. You have not been gone from here long enough to forget the hours we keep.”
Gabe turned around to cast a look at the man who had sired him. His father’s long hair flowed freely over his shoulders as he tightened the robe. He still looked strong and powerful. The beast inside Gabe seethed and raged. It wanted answers. He wanted answers.
He raised a hand and ran his finger over the stone medallion, so much a part of who he was for so long. Right now it felt heavy and he swallowed hard beneath the burden.
His father’s green gaze shifted, deepened as he followed the movement of his fingers.
“Gabrial?”
How many young girls had he deposited in Triumvirate-funded homes to be raped and burned and terrorized? Had he been the one to abandon Kel in that place years ago? He didn’t want to think his father could be that cold, but he had to know. What kind of rules had he sworn to uphold as House marshal?
“Where do the elders send the crossbreed children?”
“Crossbreeds? You woke me in the middle of my rest to ask me about crossbreeds?” His father’s voice was rough, his irritation evident.
When Gabe said nothing, his green eyes steady and remote, the Ferrar doyen sighed and sat on the corner of his desk to fold his arms across his chest. “We find foster homes for the females and the males remain until they reach adulthood. Even half Sanguen males require blood for survival and must be taught the rules of our people. Why these questions, Gabrial?”
“What of Triumvirate homes?”
The doyen snarled in disgust. “We would never place a child in one of those places. The children that manage to survive to adulthood become depraved and risk exposing us to the humans.”
Gabe turned back to stare sightlessly out the window as his father’s casual words echoed in him, his fingers fisting around the medallion.
The children that manage to survive to adulthood.
How had Kel managed?
“Gabrial, its well before noon. What is the purpose of these questions? Does it pertain to your investigation? The elders grow anxious at your continued preoccupation with this issue and I grow weary of blindly reassuring them. There have not been any further disappearances in our region.”
“Yes, Father, there has,” Gabe said, turning back to meet his father’s gaze. “A twelve-year-old from a Triumvirate home was blooded and left dead in a park six days ago.”
Gabe felt the weight of his father’s stare, his doyen’s stare. Ever patient, his father carefully controlled his emotions and reactions. Liam was studying him, analyzing the situation. Was the fire that burned in Gabe visible to his father? Could he see his torment? Did he wonder?
With a sigh, Liam speared his fingers through his hair and walked to an overstuffed leather chair and sank down. He motioned for Gabe to do the same.
“Is there a connection to the previous disappearances?”
“The blood sample Incog recovered from the scene where Karl died trying to buy it was a match to the girl.” And the only concrete link between them. Kel’s blood dealer was their only other real lead and he had all but disappeared.
“The source your cousin was trying to purchase was a twelve-year-old crossbreed girl. You believe he was proctoring for someone from our House?” When Gabe nodded, he came to his feet and paced to the window but paused a good foot from the glass. “I am unsure what to do with this information. The elders will not welcome it. They will argue that Karl was unaware of what he attempted to buy. They will claim he was a victim of the dealer. Your grandfather included.”
“The elders’ denial of the truth does not make it any less true,” Gabe shot back and rubbed a hand down the back of his neck. “Some bastard in our House will continue to prey on little girls while being protected by the elders.” He would never risk Kel’s life by bringing her to his House, and he could not leave her, even if Kel would be willing to consider coming back to the House that had brought such pain down on her. That she could even tolerate their blood bond and willingly invite him into her body each night was miraculous. He would not ask her to come here.
“Gabrial, the elders have earned their position in this House and as long as you are a member of this House you will respect their authority.”
Gabe came to his feet to face his father. They glared at each other for a long, tense moment.
He had been raised to breathe and eat and bleed House tradition and rules, groomed from birth to be the House marshal and eventually the House doyen before retiring to the position of elder, while his children and grandchildren filled the ranks behind him. He rarely questioned his upbringing, accepting and protecting the traditions of his House with honor and integrity. Yet he could not obediently stand back as the elders blindly protected some sick bastard while he made a mockery of every sacred law his House was built on.
&n
bsp; Not even for his father. His fingers instinctively reached up to touch the outline of the medallion. It felt hot against his skin, and he wanted to rip it from his neck and throw it at his father’s feet. He clenched his fist. The struggle between his House loyalty and his need for Kel was tearing him apart.
Doyen Ferrar eyed the fist and cursed. “I will see what I can discover.”
Gabe gave a curt nod, dropping his fist to his side. “Thank you.”
The doyen waved his hand as he retreated to the recessed door that led back to the personal suite of the House doyen. “I intend to get what sleep I have left to me this morning.”
“And Father,” Gabe called. When his father turned to raise an exasperated brow he continued. “This House did send a crossbreed child to a Triumvirate home fifteen years ago and I intend to find out why. And who,” he added dangerously, his tone leaving no question as to what he would do with the information. “This House must answer to that crime.”
Gabe shimmered without waiting for a response from his father. He needed Kel, to feel her heat on his skin like the rays of the sun, to surround himself in her scent and let her witty sarcasm melt the ice that had hardened in the pit of his stomach.
KEL FELT LIKE someone had used her as a battering ram. Every spot on her body ached. She even thought that Raife had cracked one of her damn ribs. And she felt wonderful as the heat of the water in the training room shower cascaded over her sore muscles. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and smiled when she could no longer feel the split where Raife had delivered a solid elbow to her face. The best part of it was that her wounds would all heal before she even finished her shower and Raife would wear his for a couple of days, at least.