by Moira Rogers
Sasha shuddered, paled. “I didn’t feel that when I broke Justine’s bond. The vampire could—could be taking more every day.”
“Maybe that’s why they fled here,” Cindy muttered tersely, already pressing a syringe to the inside of Bobby’s elbow.
“Maybe,” Adam agreed. “But it means he’s going to follow them.”
Her eyes blazed with cold fire, blue and chilling. “Then we’ll be ready.”
Chapter Three
He’d been going full-bore for the last two days, and Adam showed no signs of slowing. What he did show signs of was exhaustion.
Cindy had seen it often enough, both with her classmates and with herself. It was insidious, the kind of work that brought you to the edge of physical as well as mental collapse. There was always more to do, always more people to help. If you stopped, you were letting them down.
But there came a time when there wasn’t a choice.
They’d already stopped using the bar as a makeshift hospital. Most of the people who had fled from Helena had only superficial injuries, but too many of them bore the blood bond that had made Bobby’s healing so sluggish. Adam and Sasha had been working overtime to release all the refugees from those bonds.
And Adam was still at it. Three more people had shown up earlier in the day, a couple and their little girl. The little girl wasn’t hurt, but her bond had proven difficult to break. Cindy had banished her nearly hysterical parents to the kitchen to calm them down and make them eat. Now they paced the foyer, waiting to be let back in to the small room where their daughter had been placed.
“Adam.” Cindy stopped behind him where he stood by the bed. “You have to take a break.”
He ignored her, just like he’d ignored her twice before. The little girl whimpered, and his shoulders stiffened as he made an almost soothing noise. “Hold on. Almost there.”
She fought a sigh. If there was one thing the last forty-eight hours had taught her, it was that arguing with him was useless. Instead, she wet a cloth in the basin on the nightstand and laid it on the girl’s forehead.
It was torture, ten times worse than Gavin’s heart condition, because this was something she couldn’t even understand, much less treat. She’d been flying blind, patching people up while they continued to suffer under her hands, and it had taken its toll on her, as well.
She was tired, edgy. Angry.
The girl sucked in a sudden breath, and Cindy knew the bond had snapped by the way her body relaxed. Adam, on the other hand, looked like hell. A grimace twisted his face, one of pain and steely determination, and he ground his teeth together so hard she heard it. He dragged in one labored breath, then a second, and magic cracked through the room as he stumbled back with a muffled curse.
He hit the wall and slumped to his knees, both hands balled into fists. His eyes were wild, more black than green, and they didn’t quite focus. “Done.” It was a hoarse rasp. “It’s done.”
It took only moments to check the girl’s vitals, and Cindy kept watch on Adam as she did so. He looked like this last bond had half-killed him, and an instinct she didn’t understand screamed at her to get him the hell out of the room.
“I’m going to bring her parents in,” she told him quietly. “Go upstairs and wait for me. I’ll be right up.” He didn’t react, so she knelt in front of him. “Adam.”
Something dangerous stirred just beneath the surface, feral and hungry. It took forever for him to meet her eyes. “You shouldn’t be this close.”
A reasonable person would be petrified. “Her parents can’t see you like this. It’ll scare the piss out of them. Go upstairs, please.”
He rose, slow and deliberate, as if every movement hurt. He seemed to make a special effort not to look at the girl as he cut a wide circle around her on his way to the door.
He headed in the direction of the back stairs, and Cindy walked into the foyer. The girl’s parents rushed over when they saw her, and she stepped aside to let them into the room. “She should be fine now, but call for me if anything happens.”
They thanked her absently, all their attention focused on their daughter. She didn’t blame them, and it was just as well, because she had to get upstairs.
She found Adam standing on the top landing, staring blankly at the wall. “Come on.” She took his arm and dragged him into the bedroom, determined to make her suggestion before he keeled over—or she lost her nerve.
Locking the door behind them took only a moment. Cindy took a deep breath and pulled her turtleneck over her head. “You need to drink.”
His gaze swept up her body in a tangible wave, and he moved before her shirt hit the ground. Her back slammed against the door, and he caught both of her wrists and pinned them next to her head with a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
Fear spiked, an instinctive reaction because he’d snapped, moving from calm blankness to feral intensity so quickly. She wasn’t scared of him, and she wanted to do this. He needed her help, and the least she could do to repay him for his was to offer.
Offer.
She recalled his words from the first night, when her interest had been more vague curiosity and considerable attraction—the power comes from the willing gift. So she relaxed in his grip and let her head fall back against the wall. “I’m not asking. I’m offering.”
His nostrils flared. His breath fell warm against her throat. “You don’t understand. I haven’t been breaking those bonds. I’ve been stealing them. Stealing them and letting them go, and every time I let one go it feels like slow suicide. I’m out of control.”
“That’s not true, though,” she whispered. “Not if you’ve been letting them go, even when it hurts you.”
“Yes, I make a charming martyr. But don’t doubt that selfish self-preservation thrives inside me. Eventually I’ll snap. And I’ll take.”
“So take me.” The moment the words left her, she wanted to snatch them back. This was more than the concerned offer of someone used to caring for people. She was starting to sound desperate, and that had to mean she wanted this more than she realized.
She felt the slightest pressure, something magical instead of physical, as if he’d stroked her just under her skin. A groan ripped free of him, and he licked a hot line up the side of her neck. “You’re so willing. I’m not that much of a martyr.”
Yes, she wanted him. She trembled with it, burned. What she didn’t understand was why it didn’t feel like it was about sex. Instead, she wanted to feel his teeth sink into her flesh. Wanted to feed him, sate his hunger.
Give him what he needed.
She stood on her toes, straining toward him. Anything to get closer to his mouth. “Let me.”
His body shook. His breath skated over the skin he’d licked, and he lowered his mouth. “Stop me if it’s too much.”
Cindy had never imagined that she’d practically have to beg a vampire to bite her. “I promise.”
Teeth closed on her throat. His fangs were larger than normal canines and a little sharper, and she gasped when they broke through her skin. The pain was intense but brief, vanishing in a rush of warmth.
The warmth built into a hot flare of pleasure, and Cindy gasped again. Her nipples hardened as her body reacted, though the heavy anticipation swelling through her was disorienting.
He hasn’t really touched me. The fuzzy thought scattered as he released her wrists and smoothed his hands down to her hips. His tongue stroked her skin, her body throbbing in time with each lick.
She was wet, ready, and instinct drove her to tear at his shirt. His bare chest was warm under her hands, rough with hair and hard—everything about him was so hard—
He lifted his head, just enough to whisper. “Let me make it good.”
If it got better, she’d explode. “Yes.”
Another stab of pain, more fleeting than the last. When his lips closed tight on her throat this time, magic flared so brightly the world disappeared. He stroked her everywhere without moving
his hands from her hips—teasing over her nipples, dragging between her legs and circling her clit.
Cindy shuddered and clamped her lips together to keep from crying out. It was too much, all at once, and she couldn’t stop the flood of sensation that rocked her. She clutched Adam’s shoulders for support and rode it out, waited for the peak of pleasure to subside.
It didn’t.
Finally his hands moved, from her hips to her thighs, curling under them as he hoisted her higher, grinding between her legs.
She had to stop whimpering. There were patients downstairs, not to mention other people, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from Adam. She was drowning, losing herself in him.
“Stop.” The word came out weak, almost inaudible. “Adam, stop.”
He froze, his back going rigid under her hands. He lifted his head, his breath falling in hoarse pants, but power still pulsed in the air between them. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” It came out on a moan, and Cindy blinked. “You were going to make me scream.”
Confusion flashed in his eyes. “Not in a bad way?”
“No, not in a bad way.” She dropped her hands to his belt and tugged at the buckle, but he was too close. She pushed at him a little and dropped to her knees between him and the wall. “Definitely not in a bad way.”
That got his attention. He caught her wrists and stepped back, a groan escaping him. “No. No, you deserve better than this.”
Cindy had no idea how old he actually was. “You’re not one of those guys who thinks a blow job is dirty or demeaning to women, are you?”
Something flared in his eyes. “I’m a man who thinks you attend to your bedmate’s pleasure first if she’s given you a gift as great as her blood.”
“Okay, that’s a new one.” She pulled free of his grasp and rose, keeping her eyes averted from his. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me at all. No means no.”
He snarled and locked his arm around her waist, moving so quickly the world spun. Her back crashed against his chest, and he slapped a hand against the wall, not quite pinning her. “Don’t pretend I denied you. You denied me. Denied me your pleasure, and perhaps you’ve been taking the wrong sort of men into your bed if you think I should be satisfied without it.”
She closed her eyes and tried not to think about how good he felt pressed against her. “I didn’t deny you anything.”
He laughed, though it sounded more rueful than mocking. “My darling Dr. Shepherd. If I didn’t get to watch your face or feel your body tighten on my fingers, if I didn’t even get to enjoy the pleasure of your screams, then you denied me everything.”
He was demanding. “Two-thirds of those things were physically impossible,” she pointed out. “The other isn’t happening. I have patients downstairs. The last thing they want is to hear me getting off.”
“Fair enough.” He brushed his lips over the side of her neck. “But I should warn you that I’m not incredibly quiet either.”
The soft touch along with the admission made her want to melt against him, to beg. Anger swept through her—directed at herself, not him—and she ducked under his arm. “Do you feel stronger now?”
“Stronger than I have in months.” His arms fell to his sides. “Years, maybe.”
“Good.” That was something, at least, especially since she seemed to be suffering few ill effects. She felt a little lightheaded, but that was easily attributable to the magic he’d worked with her body and not blood loss.
“Good,” he echoed, but a faint note of wariness had intruded in the warmth of his voice. “I appreciate the gift. I’m sorry you misunderstood my intentions.”
She touched her fingers lightly to her neck. The holes from his teeth had already closed, and she drew her shirt back over her head. “What intentions? You needed to feed.”
“Yes, I suppose I did.” He swiped his thumb over his mouth, his gaze still fixed on her throat. “You feeling all right?”
“Fine.” Cindy almost winced when she heard the chilly tone of her own voice. It probably wasn’t fair to extend her anger to him, even if he had been a jerk. “You said Dylan offered? To do this, I mean. Give you his blood.”
“Yes.” No inflection, and his eyes had gone hard. Cool.
“I’ll explain the process to him.” Better to let Adam think the encounter had been nothing more than an emergency and an experiment, her due diligence as the town’s doctor.
One eyebrow quirked upward. “Best explain it to Sasha as well, then, because I won’t be giving him that experience unless she asks nicely.”
She was starting to think that playing dumb was the safest way to deal with him, so she favored him with a nod and a vague smile. “Of course. I need to get back downstairs. Will you excuse me?”
Oh, he didn’t like that. Frustration flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t seem willing to call her on it. “Yes, Cindy.”
Cindy tried to practice as much brutal self-honesty as possible, so she forced herself to admit that she was fleeing as she left her bedroom and hurried down the stairs. What had started as a pleasant encounter with intriguing sexual potential had gone south faster than she’d thought possible, and it was her own damn fault. Somehow, she’d managed to fall short of his expectations, and it had made her lash out.
Just as well. She hit the bottom landing and leaned against the wall in the small, dark hallway. The last thing she needed was to get involved with another man she barely knew only to discover he wanted things she couldn’t provide.
Something more than what she was.
So keep feeling sorry for yourself, Shepherd. That’s useful. Cindy pushed off the wall and headed for the kitchen. It didn’t matter. Someone else could give Adam Dubois his goddamned mystical energy from now on, because she was finished feeling like a failure.
“Tell me I can go home and sleep in my own bed, Cindy.”
Adam froze, one hand still lifted to knock against the open door, and acknowledged that he was in deep, deep trouble if Cindy’s scent and presence clung to him so strongly that her own alpha couldn’t tell the difference.
Granted, Gavin had his eyes closed as he reclined in the same battered old chair, and he looked only marginally more alive than he had on Adam’s arrival. The stress of the last few days had weighed heavily on him to be sure, but not so heavily that the man shouldn’t be able to sense the difference between a wolf and a vampire.
Then a frown wrinkled his friend’s face, and Gavin opened one eye. “Adam.”
Oh yes. He was in trouble. “Sam told you all those years of smoking would mess up your sense of smell. Guess it finally happened.”
Gavin’s frown didn’t dissipate. “I was going by feel, not scent. So, unless you’re hiding my doctor in your pocket, you have some explaining to do.”
Adam moved to sink into the battered leather chair next to Gavin’s. “I don’t suppose I can convince you I’ve got your doctor in my pocket?”
“Was it really necessary, Adam?”
“She’s bossy. And I wasn’t in great shape, Gavin.”
“I understand.” He finally turned his head to meet Adam’s gaze. He wasn’t angry, only quietly determined. “Now understand me. Leave her be, if you can. She hasn’t had an easy time of it.”
It wasn’t news, but it stirred the guilt inside him just the same. “I didn’t mean to touch her in the first place. She pushed until I snapped, and I sure as hell ain’t proud.”
Gavin sighed, something that almost sounded like relief. “Cindy does that sometimes. I thought—well, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” Gavin of all people knew why. “It was willing. It was so damn willing I went from one foot in the grave to a scary kind of powerful, and I didn’t take much. I know we’ve got a war brewing, but power’s a dangerous thing for a vampire to have too much of.”
“I’ll explain to her why it can’t happen again.”
Adam couldn’t keep from tensing. “How much do you plan to explain?”
>
Gavin flashed him a sharp look. “The reason it can’t has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Cindy. Your secrets are safe with me, Dubois.”
“Christ, Hamilton. What in hell happened to her?”
“She was human, and a corrupt alpha thought she’d make a good pet. Turned out, she was too strong for that, so he punished her. Tried to break her.” Gavin shifted in the chair with a grimace. “It’s common. Too common.”
It was a common danger even on the east coast. “How long?”
“Three years.”
“Is that how long they had her, or how long ago it happened?”
Gavin grimaced again, and this time it almost looked like pain. “She came to Red Rock seven years ago.”
Three years of torment, seven years of recovery. Guilt wasn’t just stirring anymore, but screaming. “God damn it. I’m a bastard, and you should have put me down eighty years ago.”
Gavin didn’t deny it. “Like you said, Cindy’s bossy. She’s bossy and stubborn as hell, so what you’ve got to do now is make sure she doesn’t have her mind set on you, for God’s sake. Not as a lover or as a project or anything.”
“Project?” He didn’t have to pretend to be mildly outraged. “What, should I be worried she’s going to give me a makeover?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking of, but yes.”
Damn him for feeling intrigued. “I suppose you won’t elaborate because you don’t want me interested at all.”
Gavin snorted inelegantly. “I’ll expound at length, my friend, because telling you exactly what she’d do with the likes of you is the fastest way to turn you off her.” He leaned forward. “She’d break you to ride. Turn you into a productive member of polite society.”
After nearly a century of hiding in the Great North Woods, the idea was moderately horrific. “I think you’re overestimating her charms, old friend. She’s a beautiful girl with a delicious temper, but hermit living suits me.”