Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3)

by Donnelly, Alianne

  Another stab of pain made his vision cloud over as he pushed to his feet and he pitched forward, nearly going down again and taking Amelia with him. By some miracle, he managed to stay upright. By another, he made it to the lab without tumbling down the staircase. He eschewed the manacle chair in the back in favor of perching gingerly on the edge of Amelia’s desk. It was closer.

  She left him there while she gathered instruments and wrapped some kind of bandage around her neck. “What is that?” he asked.

  Amelia set everything down on her desk behind him, then took his hand and placed it over the bandage. It was cool to the touch. As far as wordless explanation went, that one was straight to the point and made him feel like shit. “I’m sorry,” he said, brushing the pad of his thumb over her jaw.

  She shrugged, saving her voice now, and set to work. The doc had brought out an interesting array of tools. Gabriel couldn’t see all of them, unable to twist around and look, but the ones she used were truly fascinating. A square blue patch placed over the rapidly darkening bruise numbed his side within seconds. He’d have breathed a sigh of relief if he wasn’t worried about puncturing a lung.

  Amelia checked the injury on a scan, pointing it out to him, confirming she’d broken not one, but two of his ribs and bruised the muscle. Counting off from his armpit down, she located the injured ribs and kept her hand on the spot while she reached for a nasty looking syringe.

  “Uh, what is that?” It looked long enough to reach his hip bone through his nose. And it wasn’t exactly on the thin side.

  Amelia ignored him and jabbed the thing straight into the break, injecting it with something that seared like a hell bitch. “Ow, fuck!” The muscle spasm made him double over. He gripped the edge of the desk, trying his best to breathe through it, but his lung felt branded.

  When she pulled the needle out, Gabriel was relieved that it was done. Then she jabbed it right back again, into the other break. This time he gritted his teeth against the pain, but couldn’t bite back the sound ripped out of him. All of a sudden, he didn’t feel bad about her neck anymore.

  She pulled the needle out and tossed it aside, keeping a hand on the injection site as if to soothe it. With her free hand, she cupped his cheek to make him look at her and raised an eyebrow; a wordless question. He couldn’t begin to answer. Amelia sucked in a breath and blew it out in demonstration.

  When he didn’t copy her, she did it again. It wasn’t as if he was trying to suffocate himself! Holyfuckingshitthathurt.

  Amelia let go of him to scribble something down on her e-pad and held it up to him to read. Breathe! the note said. She’d underlined it three times.

  “Trying,” he growled.

  She pointed to the note again.

  Glaring, Gabriel let go of the precious little air left in his lungs and sucked in a fresh batch.

  Amelia nodded in encouragement.

  He did it again, only because she was looking. The woman had eyes like sapphires, with a faint webbing of green lines over the irises. It was like looking into a gem held up to the light. Almost made him feel like he could do anything for those blues. Gabriel silently willed her not to look away.

  When he was breathing as normally as possible, she patted his cheek, already dismissing a would-be crisis and turned to her implements again. Gabriel caught her hand to stay her. Amelia looked surprised at the gesture, then blushed. She held up a roll of bandages, showing him she still had work to do.

  He was forced to release her.

  She was careful, bandaging his torso and Gabriel was grateful for the little consideration. His insides still burned enough that a muscle in his back twitched every so often. But by the time she was finished, the pain had eased enough that he could breathe easily. Amelia scanned him again and showed him the damaged ribs. Whatever it was she’d injected him with, it now surrounded the broken ribs like a splint on the inside. Gabriel poked at the spot and the image changed. The bandage wasn’t solid. It adjusted to his body, holding the break together, but still flexible enough to allow for movement. Just like the bone itself would, if it weren’t broken. Fascinating.

  Astonishingly painful to administer, but fascinating.

  Seeing he was sufficiently impressed, she turned the scanner off.

  The trip back up the stairs was easier. He could temper the impact of his weight better going up. Gabriel would have gotten up there without any help, but he didn’t tell Amelia that. Not when she was so obliging in ducking under his arm and holding on to him as a support.

  It felt … nice.

  In the hallway, she stopped him, looking from the living room to the bedroom.

  Bedroom, please.

  Amelia regarded him to decide and he put on his most innocent expression; tossed in a wince to make it believable. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but turned for the bedroom.

  There was a God!

  She straightened the sheets for him, fluffed the pillow a little, but let him lie down on his own. Nodding in satisfaction, she spun on the balls of her bare feet toward the door.

  Gabriel caught her hand again.

  “Stay.” Wait, that wasn’t right. He’d meant to say, Thank you.

  She gave him a don’t-be-ridiculous look and tugged on her hand to free herself.

  “Oh, come on,” he said. Still no, thank you. “You owe me for this.”

  She pointed at her neck.

  “Well, yeah, okay,” he allowed. “But I didn’t stab you with a drinking straw and pour lava into your neck, did I?”

  Amelia scuffed her foot guiltily and he frowned. “Did you know it would hurt that much?”

  Studying the floor most intently, she shook her head in a negative.

  Oh, son of a … “Was that some kind of experimental trial thing you injected me with?”

  A hedging nod.

  “Oh-ho-ho, you are so busted.” For all she knew, the stuff could have been toxic. It felt toxic. And she hadn’t hesitated to use it! Just gathered it up like another harmless bandage. “And you are staying with me tonight.”

  Her gaze snapped up to his and she opened her mouth to argue.

  “Ah-ah, save your voice. You’re staying to make sure I don’t croak before sunrise.”

  Her mouth compressed into a thin line and she stomped her foot, probably calling him all sorts of ugly names in her head.

  Gabriel almost smiled. “C’mon,” he said, “you know you want to.”

  Amelia turned away, but not before another blush stained her pretty cheeks.

  He waited for her to gather the courage to face him again. When she did, it was with a bracing breath and a resolute nod. She pulled her hand free and made a series of strange gestures, a comical dead face among them, from which he surmised she was only staying to make sure he didn’t die.

  Oh, and he was supposed to stay on his side of the bed or she would do something cutting to some part of his anatomy.

  “Right,” he said when it looked like she was finished.

  In answer, she narrowed her eyes into slits and pointed a finger at him as if to say, You watch yourself, buddy.

  “You know,” he said, choking back a chuckle, “you’re really funny when you don’t try to be.”

  In answer she drew her lips back in a snarl.

  But she did march her luscious ass around the bed and got in it with him. All the way at the edge, outside of the covers, lying flat on her back like a corpse, but she was there.

  Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes, wondering what it would take to coax her closer.

  Chapter 10

  Silken sheets slipped over her heated skin, making her arch for more. Contact. Heat. Friction.

  She could feel Gabriel’s hands on her, confident and sure, touching her as if he had every right to. Amelia gasped when he palmed her bare breasts possessively. His palms were callused and rasped over her nipples, making them bead to his touch. She wanted his mouth on them.

  And then, as if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, he w
as there, suckling and kissing her flesh. Electric sparks of pleasure zinged from her nipples down to her sex. Her cry for more was muted in this place. She was glad for it, even while she knew Gabriel was fully aware of how desperate she was for him.

  She grasped his shoulders to ground herself, but he took her hands and brought them down to her sides, holding them prisoner while he feasted on her breast, kissing and licking his way up to her throat until she shivered, then down to her belly until she arched her hips up to him. But he never settled in either place.

  Instead, he slid back over her until his face was above hers, noses almost touching. She couldn’t focus her eyes, but she felt the heat of his gaze on her. Amelia wanted to clamp her thighs around his hips, feel the hardness of him against her core, but he denied her, trapping her legs with his. Gabriel raised his head a little and she gasped, scorched to her soul with the hungry flames in his dark gaze.

  He kissed her, ravaging her mouth, allowing for nothing but full participation. He tasted her, possessed her. Amelia writhed. Though he was no longer holding her wrists, she could not move her hands. “Still,” he whispered against her bruised lips, but she couldn’t keep still.

  Amelia strained for more, caught his lower lip with her teeth and sucked until he groaned and kissed her so deep she forgot to breathe.

  Her arms were still immobile but he’d freed one of her legs, inserting his powerful thigh between hers. He moved.

  Oh, God, yes!

  His chest rubbed over her nipples and his thigh pressed against her core.

  Yes!

  Amelia wriggled as much as his weight on her would allow, rocked against that thigh while he held still and watched her, his devil’s gaze missing nothing. He wanted this; wanted to see her take what she needed. It was there in his eyes, the tight set of his mouth, and the taut muscles of his shoulder.

  It embarrassed her and thrilled her, made her wet for him, the friction against her clit a poor substitute for his hard cock slamming into her, filling her.

  Please, she begged silently. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. She craved the feel of him inside her, the hard pumping rhythm of his thrusts. She needed him demanding over her, behind her, under her … any way she could get him.

  Moaning, she bucked her hips against him more. So close! He could sense it, too. His gaze burned hotter, his body pressed closer, his hand palmed the curve of her hip, guiding her movements.

  The full body orgasm slammed into her so hard she nearly screamed. Her vision darkened while it rocked through her and all the while she felt Gabriel’s gaze on her.

  Still humming with pleasure, she returned to herself, half opening her eyes to find herself in darkness, their positions were reversed. “Christ,” he breathed, staring at her with something like awe.

  Exhausted, sleep weighing down her eyelids, Amelia couldn’t do more than settle in and drift off.

  A tickle against her hand stirred her from sleep. She almost groaned. It couldn’t be time to wake up already, she’d just gotten to bed. Her body felt spent. Bruised, even. And her mind was so fuzzy, she didn’t want to open her eyes. Just a few more minutes…

  Amelia shifted her head on her pillow—

  Not a pillow.

  She went still as a statue, muscles tensing and strange butterflies fluttering in her belly. She racked her brain for memories. Patched up, went to bed, told Gabriel to keep his hands to himself. Fell asleep. Had the most amazing wet dream ever…

  Wait … It had been a dream, right?

  Right?!

  Dread killing off the butterflies into a cold weight in her stomach, Amelia cracked one eye open.

  Oh, God!

  So not a pillow!

  The side of her face was pressed into Gabriel’s shoulder, her hand was over his on his chest and—Oh, God!—was she straddling his leg? That sure as hell didn’t feel like her bat against her hip.

  She made herself cautiously tilt her head back to look at him. Maybe he was still asleep. If she shifted carefully, she could extricate herself and he never had to know what she’d done. She’d broken two of his ribs last night. He’d probably sleep the whole day away.

  His smug, shit eating grin told her better than words ever could about how royally screwed she was. “Good morning,” he said, looking like he was biting back a laugh.

  “Oh, God!” Amelia scrambled away fast as she could. “Holy shit—what the hell!” Her throat still felt raw but she barely felt it past her mortification.

  “Easy,” he said, not bothering to cover up his chuckle. He reached for her but she slapped his hand away and moved farther. Her palm slipped off the edge of the bed and her upper body followed. Amelia yelped, reached out blindly to catch herself. Gabriel snatched her by the elbow and pulled her back, freely laughing at her now. “Will you calm down?”

  Amelia slapped at him, frantic to get away and repress any memory of this ever having happened, but he wasn’t having any of that. The more she fought the less freedom she had, until she was pinned beneath Gabriel, exactly the way she’d been in her dream.

  This couldn’t be happening!

  Her arms were pinned to her sides, her legs held immobile by his, and his body weighed her down, effectively putting an end to her struggles. She couldn’t even head butt him, because he was so close her neck strained backwards to get away. And, damn it, what the hell was he smiling about!

  “I made it clear you were to keep your hands to yourself,” she said in her best, you-piss-me-off-by-breathing voice, but her face felt on fire and the rebuke carried no weight whatsoever. Especially since her voice, still raw from last night, sounded morning-after sexed up, rather than stern.

  “Yeah,” he replied, grinning at her, “but I figured our arrangement went out the window when you rolled onto me and dry humped my leg in your sleep.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, wishing the ground would swallow her and spare her more embarrassment.

  “Good dream?” Gabriel teased.

  Amelia twisted and fought to get away, but she gained no ground.

  Gabriel nuzzled in her hot cheek and murmured at her ear, “You’re beautiful when you come.”

  A hot shiver almost made her turn into a puddle. Oh, man, she was in so much trouble! Schooling her body’s responses—as if that was ever going to happen, with his morning erection poking at her belly—she took a breath to calm herself. “Get off me,” she said, doing her best to sound professional. If the way he smiled against her jaw was anything to go by, she failed miserably.

  “Why?” he challenged, his mouth roaming where it shouldn’t.

  Panting now? Really, Amelia? Amelia Marguerite Chase … a total out of control wanton. Hailey would say it’s always the quiet ones.

  His tongue flicked over her earlobe and she gasped, her body responding to him eagerly. Far too eagerly. Quiet ones, indeed. In thought, and dream, too, apparently. Amelia never was one for half measures.

  What had he asked?

  Oh!

  “Because I can’t fraternize with my subjects.” There. That should do it. Except as far as excuses went, that one came out sounding lame. Damn, she should have made it more convincing.

  He caught her earlobe between his teeth and she had to bite her lip to keep from doing something stupid, like moaning.

  When he pressed an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear, Amelia’s head moved of its own accord to give him better access. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”

  God, what had she been saying? Amelia vaguely remembered begging.

  “That’s not what your body’s telling me now.” Another kiss, followed by a languorous lap over her pulse.

  Amelia gasped and shivered. This was too much. She’d never been good at dealing with embarrassment, but with this absolute lack of control over her own body thrown in the mix, she was completely lost. Torn between straining closer, giving him more, and fighting like a hellcat to get away and run. Somewhere far, where she would never
have to look at him and remember what she’d done.

  She made an effort to form a coherent sentence. “I don’t even know you.”

  That brought his head up and he looked into her eyes, so like her dream version of him that she felt moisture gather between her legs. The man was sex incarnate first thing in the morning. And those eyes…

  “You know more than most people have bothered to find out,” he said in his husky morning voice that vibrated in his chest, straight into her, stimulating nerve endings that had no business being stimulated. “You know me inside out, angel. Literally.”

  She wanted him to kiss her. “I met you days ago,” she said to remind him, and herself. “We’re practically strangers.”

  Gabriel frowned. He shifted, releasing her hands. It was her opportunity to free herself, but then he braced himself on his elbows and with feather light touches brushed her hair out of her face. Amelia was too stunned to move. “Why are you so against this?” he asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.

  “It’s irrational.”

  “Maybe it’s fate.”

  He kept touching her face even when her hair was subdued. Light brushes of his fingers over her brow, her cheek bone, down to her jaw. Amelia closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see how much she enjoyed it. She shouldn’t enjoy it. “After three days? Be serious.”

  His thumb caressed her lower lip and she swallowed against the impulse to suck it into her mouth. “Well,” he said, “let’s do the math here. Been a while for me, but as I remember, a normal date is, what, about four hours long? With several days between that and another?”

  Amelia curled her fingers into the bed sheets. This was an impossibly weird conversation to have in such an intimate setting. She couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think when he kept touching her as if … almost like … he liked it. He wasn’t trying to seduce—though he was succeeding with frightening ease—just wanted to touch her. “S-something like that,” she said, struggling back to the discussion.

  “Well, we’ve spent about three days together now, nonstop. Multiplied by twenty four hours, divided by standard date time, we passed date eighteen about two hours ago. You already know me in ways only a doctor or a lover can. So the only issue left is me getting to know you.”