by Billi Jean
Bryson let them. He dropped his sword to the cobblestones, and within seconds had Isobel’s hand in his. She was just sitting up, wincing, but alive when he locked eyes with her.
He helped her to her feet with an arm around her shoulders. “You survived.”
“So did you.” She winced and would have pulled away, but he shook his head.
Joey laughed. “Yeah, it was messy, but she’s… Oh, you two need a moment, don’t you?” Joey would have walked away, but he knew suddenly that Isobel didn’t want her to.
“No. Stay. It’s not safe yet,” he warned.
Isobel touched his cheek. Her eyes were darker than the night sky. “Here.” She bit her wrist and, before he could deny her, knelt before him and offered her arm, head bowed. It was an ancient sign of respect that one showed to those above them. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her fingers, eyes locked with hers.
“You are my life.”
Her eyes grew rounded then glistened. “You are mine, as well. Take what is ours,” she whispered against his cheek. “A life for a life.”
“Always.” He kissed her forehead. As gently as possible he held her offered wrist. Her skin was cool. He tried his best to keep it tame. But the first rich taste of her and his shaft swelled. If not for Joey and impending danger, they would have needed a room. The delicate flavor of her blood burst along his taste buds. Her pulse hammered his lips and fangs. She warmed and her womanly body softened for him. Her heart rate quickened—to match his. Another draw and the scent of her arousal tinted the air.
His body roared to life. His wounds closed. Deep inside he felt the bridge between them blossom. She moaned lightly, signaling her growing excitement. He wanted her. Needed her. Take her, make her mine.
Instead, he shuddered out a breath, gained control, and closed her wound with a gentle lick. When he knew he had passed the test, he pressed a kiss to the ivory skin.
“You did not take enough,” she admonished. “You need your strength, I fear—”
A scream ripped through the air. Joey started. He steadied her and urged Isobel to his side.
“What… What was that?” Joey whispered.
“I think it’s…Agatha.” Isobel leaned into him as if for support.
Through the link she had allowed he sensed fear, along with painful memories that tried to claim her attention.
He rested her cheek against his chest. “It is Agatha. We will go together. I will not leave your side. Joey, you will stay with us, as well.”
“Jaxon is pretty clear on that,” she agreed. “But, really, I am not thrilled with going down there.” She pointed to a broken stairwell leading to the lower level. “If that’s the down you’re talking about.”
“It is safe—for now.” Bryson sent Isobel more reassurances through their bond. “Centuries ago, this was the seat of our power. It was built to last but abandoned.”
Isobel stood away from him, drawing her shoulders back and standing straight. She had called her own sword and wore it at her hip, a smaller blade than his but no less deadly.
“There was once a throne room that dazzled the eyes. Diamonds were embedded in the walls so that candlelight filled the room with such a glow it looked as if the sun had risen.” Isobel waved to the mountains behind what was left of the crumbling ruins. “The mountains were once filled with such treasures. Now”—she surveyed the destruction and sighed—“All is gone. But Bryson is right. The foundation is still strong. Below ground will possibly have survived better than up here, where time took its toll.”
“It sounds beautiful. Will Aidan rebuild it, do you think?”
Bryson shook his head. “This place has memories he would rather forget. Be on your guard. Joey, if you have a weapon, draw it. Otherwise, stay close between us. It might not be pretty.” Isobel feared it would be like her sister-in-law all over again. “I will go first. If she is not well, then we will take her from this place.”
Both women nodded, but it was Isobel he watched. Her eyes were too big, the darkness of them too bright.
“Wait,” Joey called suddenly. “Jaxon returns. He wishes us to wait.”
Bryson shared his humor with Isobel through their link and felt her worry begin to lessen slightly. ‘Most likely Jaxon had much more to say than to wait.’
‘He is protective.’
‘Of course.’ He moved closer to Isobel. ‘As am I.’ To Joey he said, “Is that what he said? Have you considered running the Vampire Council, because you must possess a great deal of tact.”
“He’s not so bad, Bryson. Besides, someone has to stay level-headed,” Joey responded with a sassy smile.
The next instant, Jaxon appeared and she cried out in surprise.
Jaxon laughed and surrounded her with his arms so he could whisper loudly to her, “I have other qualities.” As soon as he lifted his head, his expression hardened. “That bastard is good. Rowan is chasing him down. He suggested I come back here in case that something more we find here is dangerous.”
Bryson let that go. He knew if something dangerous was within a foot of Joey, and his friend wasn’t around to protect her, Jaxon would never forgive himself. Neither would he. Isobel’s wellbeing was now at his center. All the times he’d wondered at the bondings between couples, and now he knew. My life for hers. He took Isobel’s hand. It was small, but warmer now. ‘Still reacting to the blood share?’
‘No. Simply you.’
“That’s really not making this easier,” Joey grumbled to Jaxon. “Let’s get it over with.”
“Yes, I agree. Agatha is…unwell.” Isobel looked to him, trusting him to lead. ‘I fear she is near death, Bryson.’
‘We will do what we can.’ He took a deep breath and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Come.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Isobel followed Bryson down the stairs. Every inch of her body tightened with tension. It was more than the worry of what awaited them. It was the descent into the ruins. Long ago, this place had been a wonder to behold. Now it was ancient and decayed. Wind whipped through the gaps in the mortar, making it treacherous. As they reached the lowest level, she heard sobbing.
“Is that…?” Joey’s face paled and she took hold of her warrior’s hand.
“Fuck, Bryson, what are we heading into?” Jaxon growled.
“Hell,” Isobel whispered. “Gideon is beyond mad, he is cunning and cruel. He values little beyond himself.”
Bryson radiated anger like a fire gave off heat. He stopped them at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to Jaxon with a sharp nod. “Jaxon, you and Joey guard the door. Isobel, stay—”
“No. I will come with you. At least until we find her,” she added when he would have argued.
Another low moan reached them. Bryson’s expression turned cold. He tightened his lips but didn’t deny her. He also didn’t share his thoughts, beyond a sense of growing fury. Instead of mind-speaking to him, she waited. Finally, his sharp gaze met hers and he exhaled.
“Come.”
She followed, understanding more than he realized how difficult this was for him. Bryson was ancient, and as such, she knew he was loath to put her in a situation where she could be hurt. Now that he had claimed her, his behavior had completely turned. Gone was the man who had judged her so harshly, and in his place was a warrior who knew where he stood.
The difference in him took her breath away.
The long, dark corridor had once been the most guarded section of the keep. Down here was where the king would have met with his council, where he would have lived and where he would have raised his children. She had been here but once before.
“Here.” Bryson stopped at a well-preserved door of ancient wood and iron. The massive thing was shut, but Bryson opened it, only enough for the passage of his broad shoulders and stopped.
She didn’t need to enter. She could smell the scent of blood and sex on the air. Tears, too, tinted the breeze, as well as fear. Massive amounts of horror so deep, she worried A
gatha would never again find sanity.
“Bryson.” Isobel shoved lightly at his shoulder when he didn’t move his larger body from blocking her view. “Can we save her?”
Bryson’s shoulders hardened under his shirt, but he pushed the door the rest of the way open. Agatha was across from them, in a cabinet, much like Isobel had survived in for six hundred and seventy-five years. But she’d been walled in, never touched again, forgotten most likely. Agatha had not. There were tools, brutal, barbaric instruments of torture colored with her blood, and, she thought with a sickening dread, her flesh and blood. She centered her focus off the table and blood-splattered floor to the cabinet. Blood pooled beneath it, a lake that no doubt was from Agatha.
“What—?” She paused and swallowed. “What did he do to her?”
Bryson made a retching sound, wrist to his lips. “I think he…gutted her.”
Isobel turned her face away. Bryson was there. He cradled her head to his chest. The once tough, threatening warrior was gone, replaced by a caring man who sought to ease even this from her. ‘It will be worse when we open the doors.’ She knew his warning was meant to make her turn around and leave, but she couldn’t.
‘I know. We need to save her.’
“Then come, we will see if we can save her, but she might not want saved.”
She clung to his gaze. “She might not be able to be saved, Bryson. She…lives. She was alive when he… When he—”
“Yes.” By the harshness of his response she knew if he had the chance, Gideon would no longer be part of this world. “I would have you outside for this.”
“She might need…me. A woman.”
He winced and dropped his gaze, then with a deep breath made her proud by nodding and turning away.
Once again, he took the lead. She waited and steeled herself as he opened the door to the cabinet. It was worse than she had imagined. Agatha was…not herself. The degree of humiliation Warren or Gideon had brought down on her was sickening. She heard Joey gasp in distress. Jaxon cursed. She hadn’t heard them walk up. Bryson touched his head to hers, soothing her more than he could ever know. Or perhaps he did know. As gently as he could, he quickly untied the comatose woman and laid her on the floor. A second later he covered her mangled, tortured body with a white blanket he called to him with his mind. It floated over Agatha, immediately turning red with blood, but covered most of the damage. She didn’t rise or move. Her eyes were open but unseeing. Her head slowly fell to the side, but her chest still rose and fell, even though a long, bloody cord of her intestines hung from her stomach and out past the protection of her blanket.
“Why… Why would anyone do this?” she whispered.
“Insanity,” Bryson snarled, crouching to turn Agatha’s face to the side. She didn’t respond, not even when he shook her. “She’s beyond him now,” he whispered so low she barely heard him.
“We will have to take her to the…” Jaxon shook his head and glanced to where Joey stood with her back to them, huddled in the doorway. “We have to take her somewhere,” he finished, walking quickly to Joey’s side. Over his shoulder, he called, “I’ll be right back. Gonna call someone to help.”
She grew alarmed. “Bryson—”
“He won’t call anyone who can hurt you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” She pulled away to meet his light eyes. “It is you.”
A flash of his bright smile was more a snarl than a sign of humor. “They can try, but I won’t be leaving your side, Isobel.” He walked her farther from Agatha, scanning the room as he did. The horrors weren’t limited to the one area, but she turned her face away. Now she had to focus on Bryson and his safety.
She caught Bryson’s arm and stopped him. “Aidan will have learned that you sided with me. You are not safe with any other Vampires.”
Bryson’s eyes filled with bemusement. “You worry for me?” He made that sound beyond ridiculous.
“It had occurred to me.”
“Woman, I can take care of myself and you.”
Instead of amusing her, his boast was mere fact. “I know this. But I do not wish to chance you. We can leave. Jaxon can see that she is taken care of. I wish to go. Rowan will contact us if he finds him. Jaxon can contact you if he needs you. I want to leave, Bryson. Is this possible?” She needed to leave. The stench of such evil covered her so much that she couldn’t bear it. She wanted Bryson—his warm body and arms holding her so that nothing could ever take him away from her.
“Yes.”
At his simple answer, she sighed in relief. Her lips curled in a smile. “Then take me from this place so that we may have time to prepare for the next step.”
He took her hand in his larger one and tipped her chin so she gazed up at him while he stared down at her. “The first step will be our words, for I can’t protect you as I should. Not with this undone. It distracts me when I should be focused, Isobel. I know you wish to wait and I know that you deserve courting, but—”
“We shall bond this night, Bryson. If you still—”
“Isobel, nothing will ever change the fact that you are mine.” His unblinking stare made it clear as did his firm hold on her, that what he spoke was truth. ‘You will be mine to protect for an eternity, Isobel. In that time, I will win your forgiveness. Tonight, I hope to move forward in this, my heart.’
‘Then take me away, Bryson.’
The roguish smile she earned for her bold words made her knees weak. But she knew, if she did fall, Bryson would be there, with his strong body and hard muscles, to catch her.
Without looking away, Bryson called out, “Joey, tell Jaxon I will call him.”
“Uh, will do. Nice to meet you, Isobel.”
Isobel had time to glance at Joey once before Bryson shifted them. Joey’s bright green eyes glowed with mischief and no little knowledge of what awaited her.
Bryson.
* * * *
Bryson paced the hall outside of the bedroom he would soon share with his bonded. For centuries he’d never let himself imagine this moment. There had been too many barriers. Now the only barrier that remained was the thick oak door between them and the virginity of the woman he knew he would love for an eternity.
Sweet Jesus, has a man ever been so frightened of having sex before?
The door opened, eliminating one of those barriers. His mind blanked. Isobel stood before him, but an Isobel with her hair flowing around her, dressed in nothing but one of his button-down shirts. Even her small toes were beautiful.
“Bryson? You are making me more nervous rather than less,” Isobel whispered. She ducked her head and her long black hair tumbled forward. “If you are fearful, I think I should be, as well.”
He reached out and parted that sweet silk to tip her head and gaze down at her perfection. Eyes wide, face pale, she wore a worried frown that suddenly eased the fear he had battled moments before. He smoothed his thumb over her lips and dipped his head so he could kiss her on the brow. “I am only worried that I might disappoint you. I want you more than anything in this world, but I also want this to be good for you. Enjoyable,” he stressed.
She smiled suddenly and reached up with both hands and opened his robe. “It will be.” The feel of her warm hands on his bare chest sent a shock of lust to his aching groin. He’d kept his boxer briefs on because he’d known that the first touch from her would be disaster if he were naked. “I want to see you. All of your magnificent muscles.”
He laughed at her clear enjoyment of his body. “You can do whatever you wish to me, Isobel.” All his life he had battled, from the time he was young because he’d been bigger, stronger than others his age. He’d always secretly worried that women didn’t want him because of his size. Through their link, he knew Isobel found him strong and the best of all warriors. It made him throw his shoulders back as she slid the robe over them and let it fall from him.
“Oh, Bryson. You are truly beautiful.”
He crossed his arms. “I am a man. M
en are not beautiful.”
She laughed and covered her mouth, smiling all the same as her eyes widened and she took him in. “You are wrong. You are stunning, so beautiful. And mine.”
She was happy, he realized. The impact was as strong as the first touch from her.
“I want to touch you, put these down.” She pulled his arms and softly caressed him from his chest, over his pectorals and on to his ribs and back up to his shoulders. She’d done the same through his shirt last evening, but now, her warm skin was bare against his. A shiver raced from the top of his head to his toes. He worried what she’d think of his jutting arousal, but she paid it no mind.
Slowly she walked in a circle around him, touching and caressing him into such a state he feared that he’d haul her to the bed and mount her at that moment. The need was there. The desire to mark her with his fangs and cock pounded at him like a warrior’s battle drum. Instead he clenched his hands. Let her grow comfortable. Ease her into this. Us.
“So amazing.” She kissed his shoulder blade, then began to trail more kisses down his spine.
“Isobel,” he grated. “I cannot allow this much longer.”
“No, but later, I will want to see you again.”
“You can see me all night,” he assured her and turned to gather her against him. “For eternity, yes?”
She blinked then smiled, cozying up to him so that her skin brushed his with such intimacy he feared how much more he could take.
“Yes. Now, will you make love to me?”
Is that eagerness in her tone? He groaned. It is. “God, I want to. First, we must make you ready.”
“For this,” she asked. She squeezed him possessively and stroked right through the thin material of his briefs downward to cup his sac.
“Jesus!” He nearly shoved her to the floor. Instead he caught her busy hand and brought it up away from his raging hard-on. “I’ll come if you do that. I need to mount you and sink my fangs in so badly it’s a battle.”
Her eyes widened.
“I won’t, not yet. But, angel, I will need to.”