by Patti O'Shea
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine.”
Unconvinced by that short answer, he examined her from head to toe, looking for some sign that she was hurt. When he didn’t find one, he pulled her against his body and wrapped his arms around her. The next time she went to Orcus, he was damn well going with her. He couldn’t handle such stress again.
“I’ll be taking my leave,” Sebastian said.
Conor ignored him, but Mika didn’t. Much to his displeasure, she stepped away and gave his father a polite good-bye. A protracted, polite farewell. Finally, Sebastian left and they were alone again.
“You never told me about the bonding ceremony between vishtau mates,” he accused.
With a shrug, she tucked her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans. “Why bother? It’s not that important.”
For some reason, her offhand answer pissed him off. “Maybe not,” he said with a growl, “but Sebastian mentioned a second ritual, one where we can share powers.”
Her face tightened, and a soft glow grew in her eyes. “Did Sebastian also mention that it only works if both mates believe in each other to the depths of their beings? That it’s dangerous because if one mate turns against the other, they can utterly destroy them?” She gave her head a shake, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe you realize now that I won’t physically harm you, but you don’t trust me. We both know that.”
“I trust you.”
“Bullshit, McCabe!” Her eyes glowed red. “You didn’t even have enough faith in me to agree to the pact I negotiated with the Council until you heard every damn detail.”
Shit, she was hurt by that; he could sense it beneath the anger. There was nothing he could say that she’d believe, so he didn’t bother to try. “We’re doing both rituals,” he demanded. Only that would prove his trust.
“No.” She pivoted, but he caught her arm before she made it more than a few yards. “Let go,” she snapped.
“Listen to me. If we do this, you’ll share the shield I have, and you’ll be safe when I fight the dark demons.”
She stared at him, then Mika coolly pulled her elbow free of his grip. “First, it doesn’t matter what your powers are. I won’t be able to use them if you don’t trust me. You don’t. End of story. And second, did Sebastian mention what the bond entails? Like the fact that once it’s done, you’ll never be able to have sex with anyone else? I’ll be it for you until one of us dies.”
Conor curled his hands into fists to keep from taking hold of her again. “Yeah, he mentioned that.”
“And you still want to go through with it?” Mika sounded incredulous. Conor wasn’t sure what that meant. When he nodded, she snorted. “It would be for nothing.”
“I’m tired of hearing that.” He did reach for her then, clasped her hips and pulled her close. “It’s good between us,” he said quietly. “I can be happy with only you for the rest of my life.” He tried a smile, but it wasn’t returned.
“You’re such a sweet-talker. Just what every woman wants to hear before binding herself to a mate for life—I might be stuck with you, but at least the sex is good.”
“You’re the one who’s been obsessed with sex this whole time. And that isn’t what I said.” He was pissed off again. “Besides, if you didn’t want the bond, why did you keep saying your part every damn time we were in bed?”
“It wasn’t every time.”
“Like hell. Whenever you were close to coming, those words started pouring out of your mouth. If that’s what works, I can always tug your jeans down and take you against the wall.” He didn’t miss her blush, and that blunted some of his anger. “Sorry,” he apologized gruffly. “I didn’t mean to be crude.”
“I don’t mind that,” Mika said. At last, her arms went around his waist. “It’s just…things are shaky between us. I don’t know if I can bond with you and still know to walk away if it becomes too destructive. Do you understand?”
“I’d never hurt you, don’t you know that?”
“You’d never hurt me physically. But emotionally? Not intentionally, no, but I love you and you don’t feel the same way about me. Eventually, that’s going to hurt.” Before he could respond, Mika put two fingers over his lips. “It’s not your fault. If I’d been truthful, maybe we could have built something between us. But I lied and you can’t get past that.”
Conor searched for a way to sway her, but Mika could be damn stubborn when she wanted. “You haven’t given me much of a chance to recover, and I have gotten over some of it already. With more time, it could be a non-issue,” he promised.
“Finding out you can’t let it go after we’ve done the ritual isn’t smart. Imagine it—tied for life to someone you hate.”
Cupping her face with one palm, Conor leaned nearer. “I could never hate you. Even when I was pissed as hell, I didn’t hate you. You’re worrying over nothing.”
If anything, her stubborn expression became more pronounced. “Why don’t we head back to the house?” she suggested, ignoring what he’d said. “We can argue there.”
“We’re not leaving here until we finish both rites.”
“Then we’ll be breathing this rank air for a long time.”
He nearly smiled. Although she drove him insane with her mulishness, he liked the fact that she went toe-to-toe with him. But how the hell would he convince Mika to agree to his plan? It was obvious she’d dug in her heels.
Manipulate her. Conor started to dismiss the idea—after all, it came from his demon side—except…Except she’d manipulated him. He might have been lost in a fog of lust, but he hadn’t been blind to her tactics. Mika had used his attraction to her and her body to get past him more than once. It wouldn’t be difficult to turn the tables; he knew her weaknesses. He could have her repeating her half of the ritual in minutes. But was that fair?
Gazing down into those sexy champagne-colored eyes, Conor decided fair didn’t matter. The only important thing was keeping Mika alive. If that meant pushing a few of her buttons, he’d do it and deal with the consequences later.
“The extra power boost would help when I face the dark demons, but I bet I can take them down without it,” Conor said. He kept his tone casual and, running a thumb across her cheekbone, lowered his hand back to her hip. “You’re exaggerating how strong they are, anyway. I absorbed magic from one of them already, and it wasn’t that big a deal.”
There was a moment of confusion in Mika’s eyes before they started to glow again. “I did not exaggerate! They’re dangerous and the blast you took wasn’t full strength.”
Conor tightened his fingers on her hips, then relaxed them. With a stiff smile, he said, “It doesn’t matter. If you won’t bond with me, I’ll have to battle them with what I have. And as much as you might wish otherwise, the showdown is coming. They want you dead and I won’t let that happen.” He read the look on her face: She’d taken the bait. All he had to do now was reel her in. “Know this, I’ll fight for you until I take my last breath.”
“I told you, I don’t want you dying for me!” She tried to pull away from him, but Conor held on.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. If the Dark Ones want you, they’ll have to go through me. It’s that simple.”
Mika attempted to free herself one more time before sagging against his chest. “Damn you,” she said quietly.
Gathering her close, Conor bent until his mouth was next to her ear. “Bond with me, Mika. Give me a better chance against them. That extra power might make the difference.”
“It’s pointless.” But she didn’t sound adamant any longer. He knew he had her.
“When I square off with them,” he said, “I want every advantage, but if you won’t share the rites with me, I’m still going to meet them.” He debated adding more, but decided if he were too blatant, she’d catch on. Instead, he said, “We have to try.”
He thought she was going to argue further—he saw her reluctance—but with a sigh, she capitulated. �
�Okay.”
Something inside his chest eased at that one, unenthusiastic word. Conor knew he should feel guilty for playing on her need to keep him safe, but he didn’t. What he felt could be summed up in a single word: satisfaction.
“The female starts the rite,” he reminded her. No way in hell was he giving her a chance to think this through.
Mika rested her forehead against his shoulder, but Conor moved her far enough away to see her face. When she tried to drop her gaze, he caught her chin in his hand. He wanted her to look at him, to see him, when she spoke.
After a brief hesitation, she began. He’d heard the words before, while he was buried deep inside her, but they were more meaningful now. For the rest of his life, there would be no one else, and as Conor looked down at her, he couldn’t imagine ever wanting another woman. Mika was his in ways that went far beyond physical.
Her lips trembled as she finished speaking, and Conor brushed his mouth across hers before beginning his part of the rite. He didn’t understand most of what he said in this demon language, but he could feel power building. And as he reached the end, Mika repeated the closing words with him.
It was as if his entire life had lacked clarity, and at last, he’d adjusted the focus. Then came a flash. A thousand different images of Mika kaleidoscoped through his mind before they stopped short and he saw this Mika again. The shift was so sudden, Conor felt off balance, but as his gaze locked with hers, the world righted itself. She was his anchor, his sanctuary.
As soon as he stood steadier, Conor said, “Sebastian helped me memorize the words to the second rite. Do you know them, or do you need me to tell you?”
“I know them. Every demon in Orcus does, although it’s rarely used.” She turned her head and kissed his palm, looking up at him again. “You get to start this one—for all the good it’ll do.”
“Honey, try to remember our roles. You’re the optimist and I’m the pessimist,” he joked.
The corners of her lips tilted, the first smile he’d seen from her in what seemed like days. “I love you, McCabe,” she said.
“I know,” he replied. And he was only beginning to grasp how much. To say that they were tied was an understatement—merged was closer to the mark. Conor finally understood Mika’s reservations about joining, what with things unsettled between them, but she’d done it anyway to keep him safe. This seemed more significant than the way she’d shielded him with her body, although he was unsure why.
The ritual was quick. A few sentences for him, a few for her, and then they closed it. “Nothing feels different,” he said.
“That’s because you don’t trust me,” Mika replied, freeing herself from his hold.
He wanted to draw her back—Conor felt cold without the heat of her body against his. But he resisted. “Do you trust me? You’re sure I’m going to hurt you emotionally. If not now, then in the future. Sounds like you don’t believe in me, either.”
Mika opened her mouth, shut it, paused, then said, “There’s something wrong with your argument, but damned if I can figure out what it is.” She smiled but looked strained. “Can we get out of here now? I’m sure the rats are plotting against us, and I don’t want to be here when they decide to attack.”
“Yeah.” Conor closed the distance between them and took Mika’s hand. “Let’s go home.”
Bonded. She’d bonded with McCabe. The thought kept echoing through her head as they made their way out of the dilapidated structure.
As a girl, Mika had spent hours daydreaming about meeting her vishtau mate. And although she’d known that demons rarely performed the bonding ritual, she’d fantasized about that too. But in her many scenarios, her mate had always demanded the permanency, because he loved her too much to do without her.
With maturity, Mika had started thinking more sensibly. It was unlikely she’d ever use the words she’d memorized. Most mates lived together, had children yet never bonded; and chances were that her life would follow that pattern as well. She’d reconciled herself to what would most likely come to pass—at least, that’s what she’d believed. But when McCabe had ordered that she bond with him—not out of love, but to keep her safe—the caricature of her dream had left her feeling hollow inside.
Holding Conor’s hand more tightly now, she sidestepped the carcass of a rat. She couldn’t wait to exit and get away from the sights and smells here. This was something else she’d never imagined as a girl—performing her bonding rite in a derelict building. Mika shook her head. Time to give it up and deal with reality.
She loved Conor. Maybe they could make it work between them. Maybe he’d learn to believe in her. And maybe in a while, her heart would stop aching and she’d get over the fact that he’d bonded with her only to protect her and increase his powers.
McCabe let go of her hand when they were outside. “When we get home,” he said, “we’ll practice sharing power. I want you to be able to use my shielding capability.”
Mika opted not to repeat the trust thing. He knew, so why belabor the point? “I’m willing to try,” she said.
His lips quirked, and she felt her pulse kick up. His smiles were still rare, but were they becoming more frequent? She hoped so.
“Not just try,” he said, “succeed. Hell, honey, we’re both obstinate enough that we should be able to do anything we set our minds to.”
“If it were that easy, every demon would be capable,” she complained. She made a face at him. “You, me—stubbornness is a demonic trait.”
Conor stopped, gave her a quick kiss, and then urged her along once more. What the hell was going on with him tonight? Mika had expected him to complain about being lumped in with demons, but he hadn’t so much as grimaced. Granted, he’d come some distance in accepting his Kiverian nature, but she’d at least expected a sneer.
They approached the fence encircling the property, and Mika scanned the area, trying to pick up any threats. Nothing. No one was close enough to trigger any alarm bells in her mind, and she bent over to get through the chain-link.
“Wait.” Conor stopped her from squeezing through the hole and studied the area. “Go ahead, but stay aware.”
Nodding to show she heard, Mika shimmied through the opening. As soon as she got clear, she moved forward and stood guard. Because of his size, Conor would be vulnerable when he went through, and she wouldn’t leave him unprotected.
“Mika,” he said when he stood beside her. “Stay close to me and stay alert.” His soft voice indicated he was worried about eavesdroppers, and she ran another scan.
Still nothing.
“You picking up a presence?” she asked.
“No.” He ran a hand over his nape and looked around, then Conor’s gaze met hers. “I just have a feeling something is off.”
She nodded. McCabe had been in dangerous situations for a long time, and his sixth sense would be very developed—not that she would discount any of his feelings, anyway. How many blocks away had they parked? Mika sighed silently. Once again, she hadn’t been paying attention. At least this time she’d been focused on how to approach the Council and not busy playing some game in her head.
The neighborhoods they walked through seemed more sinister than they had earlier—there were shadows everywhere and a million places for someone or something to hide. Conor didn’t rush, but he did keep moving at a good clip. There was a watchfulness about him, a sense of readiness that both relieved Mika and raised her level of anxiety. She had to be prepared too; she would never stand by and let him do all the fighting.
Every sound made her heart race. Every scurry of a rat made her think someone had caused it to run. Every whir of machinery made her nerves pull tauter.
With her superior vision, Mika didn’t need the streetlights to see, but the fact that they weren’t working added to the eeriness of the night. The area was deserted, and even a gang of werewolves would be a welcome sight right about now.
They rounded a corner, and Mika hesitated. There was a…stillness th
at was unnatural. “Conor,” she whispered.
“I feel it. We’ll go around. Come on.” His arm went to her waist to turn her. Not that she needed it; Mika was more than happy to go in another direction. She felt Mc-Cabe tighten his hold a nanosecond before she completed her pivot, and saw what had made him tense.
Without a word being exchanged, she and Conor turned again, but the way they’d been walking was blocked. The dark demons were making their move.
Chapter Twenty
They were trapped.
With buildings on either side of them, there were only two directions to move, and the Dark Ones had both covered. Mika glanced over her shoulder—the first Bak-Faru had crossed a lot of ground. One shot: that’s all it would take to finish her off.
Up ahead on her left, there was an alley—a possible escape route if they could reach it quickly enough. But just as humans couldn’t outrun a bullet, demons couldn’t outrun an energy blast.
Maybe, though, McCabe could get away. The dark demons wouldn’t know he’d destroyed the grimoire. Without that info, they’d want him alive.
One glance at Conor’s face, though, told Mika not to bother suggesting he leave. He’d never do it.
“I don’t know what your powers are,” Conor said quietly to her, “but direct the strongest of them at the demon in front of us when I squeeze your waist. Got it?”
“Yeah.” If she combined a couple of her magics, like she had the second time she’d faced a Dark One, maybe she could affect him in some small way again. Mika gathered energy and held it, awaiting McCabe’s signal.
For an instant, she almost felt him. It was as if Conor were reaching out for her, and instinctively she tried to close the distance, but a wall stopped her. The distraction almost made her miss his cue, but when his hand tightened, Mika released her whirlwind of thick air. At the same time, Conor discharged a blast of energy. Their two magics intertwined and raced toward the Dark One. She’d never heard of demons trying something like this before, but it was an incredible idea: their powers melded into one, a glowing cyclone that held her mesmerized.