A sick feeling rose inside Jonathan. What would happen when the king learned Niall had a new mate? Would the same thing happen to him? For all he felt trapped here, he wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine being imprisoned or starving to death. That was a horrible way to die.
“Where does that leave me?” To his surprise, Jonathan’s tone didn’t hold an ounce of the fear that lived in his mind.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Niall growled. “Times have changed a lot in our world. We’ve grown alongside the humans in our beliefs.” His mate’s face hardened, stirring butterflies in Jonathan’s stomach once more. “And I would kill anyone who thought to harm you.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Sometimes, I feel very lost in this world I know nothing about. Everything has been flipped upside down since my turning, I hadn’t stopped to consider if I could one day find myself as just one of many mates or god… I don’t know—tossed aside when you get tired of this constant drama. I just…” Jonathan’s hands rose for a moment before falling back to his lap, showing he had nothing. Things had been so crazy and internal, they’d avoided talking about anything of any importance. They skated around every heavy topic as if expecting it to blow up in their faces. He was exhausted from the strain.
“We bond for life,” Cin said, as if attempting to set Jonathan’s mind at ease.
Niall nodded. “It’s chemical. Vampires rarely have sex with other vampires, because the blood exchange, bonding them forever, can happen so easily once you get carried away. That’s the biggest reason we turn to humans for blood and sex. Humans don’t drink from us, so the commitment isn’t there. Once a vampire is mated, the chemical in their blood that creates the bond is diluted, so there isn’t enough of the hormone left in our systems to bond with anyone else. If your mate passes, your body will start producing more of the hormones needed. It’s nature’s way of keeping a pure blood line alive. Obviously, any one of us could still sleep with someone else, but the experience would be an extremely watered down version of what we have, so why bother? I’ll never feel for anyone what I feel for you.”
Jonathan’s eyes brows pulled together. He felt it happen. “But I don’t feel less for Cin because I feel…” Jonathan stopped before he said all the things running through his head. He didn’t feel less for Cin because he loved Niall. Because he could feel a connection so deep with Niall, he thought he’d drown. No matter what words he chose, they all sounded like he belonged to Niall and only Niall. In Jonathan’s heart, he couldn’t accept that.
Cin flashed him a sad smile. “It’s okay.”
Jonathan shook his head. “It’s not.” His chest expanded as he drew the breath needed to confess the one thing that had been tearing his soul to shreds. Everyone deserved the truth. “Because I love you both. It’s not fair—to either of you, but it’s there, sitting on my chest all the time. I’ve tried to stop loving both of you.” Jonathan rubbed the center of his chest as he said the words. Even the admission hurt. “But I can’t.” Pain overcame Jonathan. He couldn’t meet Cin or Niall’s gaze. Instead he chose to stare at his hands. “And I know, one of these days, you’ll find your mate and then I’ll be a distant memory.” He finally met Cin’s stare. “If I lose you today or five hundred years from now, it’ll hurt me just as much. I know I need to set you free and let you find your other half, because I belong to Niall. Help me let you go.”
Cin snorted. His smile took Jonathan by surprise. “Niall is right. You are so blind. Have I bored you since you turned? Am I less in your eyes?”
Jonathan shook his head. It was true. He’d been all over the man since the turn. “If anything, we’ve been more intense.”
“For fook’s sake,” Niall growled, making Cin jump, as if he’d forgotten the man’s presence. “Cin is your mate too,” Niall said, as if he couldn’t take another second of listening to Cin beat around the bush. “That’s why this shit’s been so hard on everyone. If I was your only choice, Cin would’ve been out of the picture no matter what you felt for him before the turn. You can’t fight a mating. It’s stronger than anything you knew as a human.”
Jonathan’s gaze moved between them. Instead of relief, Jonathan was disheartened. This was another thing he didn’t understand. “How is that possible?”
Cin shrugged. “We’d both taken your blood shortly before you turned and you ingested both of ours during your turning. Actually, all three of our bloods mixed in the process of trying to save you.” Cin shook his head. “I’m sure we’re not the first case of this happening, but it’s rare.”
“So, no matter what happens, we’ll all end up miserable. That’s fucking fantastic,” Jonathan said, feeling worse by the second. “You really should’ve let me die, after all.”
A sexy smile twisted Cin’s lips. “Come here, baby,” Cin said, holding his hand out for Jonathan. Despite Jonathan’s fears and earlier request for Cin to let him go, Jonathan immediately accepted. As soon as Jonathan settled between Niall and Cin, Cin squashed the man between them, doing a damn good job of holding Jonathan and Niall.
“Can everyone just be still for a little while?” Cin asked, incapable of hiding the hope everyone would listen for once. Niall scooched closer and joined Cin in holding Jonathan. “I feel like I’m the only one who realizes we’re all trying so hard to make each other happy that we’re making each other miserable. Why is that?”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Jonathan answered, willing to talk things out. “But I also can’t help how I feel.”
Niall pressed a light kiss to Jonathan’s ear. “I love both of you too much to hurt you.”
Cin didn’t look surprised by Niall’s confession.
Jonathan was over the moon. “Awwww,” Jonathan said. “You said you loved me.”
A dimple appeared in Niall’s cheek. “Idiot.” Niall said the word with so much affection it sounded more like an endearment than an insult.
Cin shifted so he could hold Jonathan’s gaze. “Are you paying attention? Niall just told you he loves you with me sitting right here. Do I look angry?”
Jonathan shook his head. He didn’t, and Jonathan didn’t know what to do with that.
“That’s because it’s okay for him to love you and you’re allowed to love him back,” Cin said, sounding as if it should’ve been obvious. “You’re blood mates. That’s huge in our world. The three of us, we’re connected in a way few people ever get to experience. It’s overwhelming, but also sort of amazing. You have such a human view on things. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but when you’ve lived for hundreds of years, things aren’t as black and white.” His smile turned wicked. “And there’s verra little we haven’t done thousands of times.”
Jonathan pinched him. He couldn’t help it. No one wanted to hear shit like that from their mate. Cin laughed and rubbed the spot where Jonathan got him. His expression turned serious. “If anything happened to you, it would kill me.”
“Aye,” Niall said. “Me too.”
Jonathan’s hand shot to his stomach. Their words hit home. “I have so much to lose,” Jonathan said, barely whispering the words.
“Aye,” Cin said. “We all do. But we’re also luckier than most mates. When I need to go into battle or Niall does, we know one of us will always be with you. Eternity is long, Jonathan.”
“So fucking long,” Niall said, pressing Cin’s point.
“We have each other.”
“Aye,” Niall said, having Cin’s back.
“The heart doesn’t care what the mind thinks. Can we please stop trying to force our hearts into doing our minds’ bidding?” Cin asked with desperation lacing the question. “I love you both. I’m begging for it to be enough, because I can’t fight both of you and a pack of demons.”
Jonathan smiled at the affection in Cin’s voice. All three of them had admitted their love, and there had been no ugliness or jealousy, as Jonathan had feared. With the knowledge they’d be fine settled firmly in his mind, other thoughts sneaked in. He
had two gorgeous alpha men. Jonathan took a deep breath, trying to squelch his growing desire. He could do so many things—dirty things.
“How long do you think Faolan will leave us locked in here?”
Niall’s low chuckle rolled over Jonathan’s skin, making his dick stir. “If I know him, he’s probably listening at the door and stroking his cock.”
“I resent that,” Faolan said, his voice muffled by the wood separating them.
Jonathan’s body shook with laughter. “How did this happen to me and what the hell am I supposed to do with a band of misfit Scots?”
“Just throwing this out there,” Faolan said through the door. “But I vote for an orgy.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s Goddess Celeste, actually,” Faolan said, obviously intent on hanging out.
Jonathan took turns eyeing Niall and Cin. “If I ask, will he go away, let us out, or ask to join?”
The door flew open. “Join?”
Jonathan couldn’t stop laughing. Not only did he feel lighter than he had in ages, he’d never been more thankful they were all—for the most part—dressed.
9
This time, Jonathan was the one who couldn’t stop pacing. He could feel Lire’s stare upon him like heat blasting his skin. Time grew short. They stood on the edge of something. Jonathan wanted to talk about it, but he didn’t know where to start. It wasn’t as if he could explain the sensation in his gut. Something was coming. Once, when he was eight, he’d broken his leg while out hiking with his dad. For years afterward, his leg would ache, letting him know when it was about to rain. This was the same, except it was Jonathan’s whole body and he didn’t know what was coming. All he knew was—now was the time to settle this. Lire needed to tell him what he could, and Jonathan had to find a way to save him.
“Ask me about last night before it drives you insane,” Lire said, as if he couldn’t take the silence any longer.
Jonathan shook his head. “You don’t have to explain. I researched Lilin-demons. Just as I need blood to survive, you need sex. Of course, someone has to feed you.”
Lire released a derisive-sounding snort. “Starvation is a common torture method. So, no. No one has to do anything.”
At Lire’s words, Jonathan stopped pacing and met his gaze. “I didn’t mean to insult you. By the looks of things, he wasn’t here by duty or obligation.”
“That’s not—” Lire began.
Jonathan shook his head, cutting him off. “Don’t lie to me, okay. It’s obvious you can read my mind. You know I can tell when you lie. I don’t expect you to tell me anything you don’t want to.” It hit Jonathan. Lire hadn’t considered lying to him before today. What if he asked? Point blank asked Lire where to find the pack?
Lire shook his head and pressed his finger to his lips. “You have a guard.”
Jonathan’s eyebrows rose. “Do I?”
“A sentry,” Lire said with a nod.
Ah. Someone listened at the door. “I forgot something,” Jonathan said, heading for the door. He opened it and nearly tripped over Faolan. He stepped out and snapped the door closed behind him before Faolan got any ideas about heading inside.
“Did Niall talk to you about how I’ll be the only one questioning our guest?”
Faolan didn’t appear the least bit guilty. “Aye.”
“Okay,” Jonathan said, dragging out the word. “Then what’s up?”
“He didn’t tell me to stay away. Just no torture. You need someone watching your back. Despite the reason for your turn, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
Jonathan cast a glance around, trying to decide what to do. He didn’t want to alienate his clansman, but neither could he let this go on. “What if I told you not to do this?”
A sweet smile touched Faolan’s lips, making Jonathan feel twice as guilty. “Then I’ve had one prince tell me I’m not allowed to torture this demon, and one prince tell me he doesn’t want me guarding him. I’m not sure if I’ll follow either order, since I like being spanked. You know, for future reference,” he added with a wink.
“That’s good to kno—” Jonathan stopped mid-sentence as the full impact of Faolan’s words hit. “Did you just call me your prince?”
“Aye. That’s how it works.”
This life made Jonathan feel like he was always slow catching on. “Huh. Guess it hadn’t occurred to me. Anyhow,” Jonathan said, putting that detail in a box for later and moving on, “as thrilling as I’m sure hanging outside this door is, I need you to check out something else for me.”
“Anything, my prince,” Faolan said with a short bow.
Jonathan pinched the spot between his eyes where pain bloomed. “Is this going to be a new thing? Because I don’t like it.”
Faolan’s smile was unrepentant. “I know.”
A loud sigh escaped Jonathan before he could call it back. “Moving on. Can you check out pier thirty-seven in Port Andrew? I’ve been looking at maps, and I think that’s the one.”
The giant vamp’s smile fell. He took Jonathan’s hand between his. “Look, Jonathan. I know you think you know what you’re doing in there, but this demon isn’t your friend, and he isn’t…” Pain bloomed behind Jonathan’s left eye. His vision blurred. Faolan was still talking. Jonathan couldn’t hear a word. Everything inside him went dark—like his mind grasped to accept the emptiness inside Faolan. He couldn’t breathe around the pain beneath Faolan’s smile. A chill raced down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin. Faolan’s lips were moving. No sound could penetrate the void.
“The demon says you have no heart,” Jonathan said before he could stop himself.
Faolan squeezed his hand once more before letting him go. The instant Faolan released him, the world snapped back into focus. Air rushed back into his lungs. Faolan looked sad. “I didn’t think. You don’t have to worry about me touching you again. I’ll go check out your pier.”
Before Faolan could get away, Jonathan stepped into his path and set his hands on Faolan’s chest. This time, he knew what to expect, and the impact wasn’t as severe. He took a deep breath to steady himself before attempting to speak. “Don’t stop trying. See,” he said, nodding toward his hands. “You can touch me. I won’t break. Don’t stop trying,” he repeated, because it was important, and skin on skin contact was the only thing that would ever heal Faolan.
Faolan set his hands over Jonathan’s, holding him in place. A smirk touched his lips. Wicked intent lit his amethyst eyes. “I’ll touch you as much you’d like, my prince. Just let me know when and where.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jonathan took a step back. “Let me know what you find at the pier. I feel it in my gut. That’s the one they used.”
Faolan’s playful smile slipped away. His gaze sharpened. “Used?”
Jonathan gave him a sharp nod. “I think we’re in the wrong place, but I can’t prove it. Go check out the pier and leave me in peace so I can find out the truth.”
This time when Faolan gave him a short bow, he meant it. Jonathan let it slide since he didn’t think he could make Faolan stop. He waited until Faolan was gone before searching the garage for what he needed. After grabbing a can of white paint and a brush, he slipped back inside with Lire. With the door closed, shutting them away, Jonathan locked it. If any of his clansmen wanted inside, a locked door wouldn’t slow them, but it would give Jonathan a half second of warning. He started with the symbol painted on the back door. With a small brush stroke, he transformed the symbol for a demon trap into a demon ward, making the room impenetrable.
When Lire realized what Jonathan had done, he came to his feet. Jonathan moved to the next set of markings. He didn’t know how he knew what to draw, but he did. The ancient symbols lived in his head. Once he’d changed all the symbols on the walls, he moved to the center of the room and held Lire’s stare.
“If I ask where your pack is, will you answer?”
“Yes.”
Jonathan gave a sharp nod at the honesty
in Lire’s answer. “Why?”
Lire lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m dead already. The enemy of my enemy, as they say.”
“You’re not dead,” Jonathan said. His gaze never wavered. “At least, not yet. I may not be able to save you from my clansmen, but I can give you a fighting chance and I can protect you from what’s coming.”
Lire’s expression shifted. It was a subtle hint of surprise, quickly masked, but it was enough. Lire knew it too—evil headed their way.
“You know what’s coming,” Jonathan accused.
Lire held his stare. “You should leave here, Jonathan.”
“Where’s your pack, Lire?”
“You already know.”
“I know where they aren’t,” Jonathan shot back every bit as quickly.
Lire’s mouth lifted in one corner. “Then you know where they are.”
It was as he thought. Lire wasn’t part of the pack. Jonathan didn’t know why the demon had been there the day his throat had been slit, but it wasn’t because he was part of the pack they’d been hunting.
“Where is the pack we’ve been hunting?”
Lire’s smile turned wicked. “Now that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? You’re a lesson ahead of your friends who’ve lived hundreds of years longer. If you want a straight answer from a demon, ask the right question. There’s a pack of demons using a set of seven ships and several smaller crafts safely keeping to the waters, unless supplies are needed.” Such as women. Those poor women. “Your friends could search for the rest of eternity and never find them.”
“Why?”
Lire flattened his hands against his invisible cage, looking like a mime. “For the same reason I can’t leave this circle.”
It was so simple. So fucking simple, he couldn’t believe no one had considered it. Just as they’d trapped Lire with magic, the demons had done the same to create an impenetrable stronghold in the one place no one would stumble across them. Mark their ships with magic symbols and sail around the world completely invisible from detection—genius.
Devour (Hellish Book 2) Page 9