by Avery Gale
“Agents? What do you mean, agents? My parents were much too lazy to be agents for anyone.”
“The couple we believe were your biological parents died when you were an infant, Bristol. More accurately, they were killed by a shadow agency the Council has been tracking for more than a hundred years. So much of the unrest in the world today has nothing to do with what you see and hear on the news. There is an epic battle between good and evil being waged in the magical community—the energy from the war is spilling over into the non-magical world.”
“Holy fucking hell.” Asia set her hands on Catalina’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
“What we don’t know is what it has to do with Catalina, Denali, and Bristol. We have a vast DNA registry. Matching might take a few weeks, but I assure you, we’ll find what we’re looking for.
“I’d like to make a deal with you, Bristol. I’ll solve the problem you’re having with the crazy snake bitch—in turn, we’d like your help, unraveling the connection between the three of you.”
Tobi leaned forward, locked on Bristol. “They want your blood. Make sure they take it in the traditional manner, and if you see Robert Pattinson… run.” Charlotte was the first to burst out laughing, followed quickly by the others.
“Your Masters don’t beat you enough, Tobi.” Brigitte’s reprimand was negated by the amusement in her voice. “Bless your non-magical heart. You could at least do me the courtesy of eluding to my being a real vampire rather than some Hollywood pretty boy.”
“That pretty boy is worth one hundred million dollars. Evidently, bad acting and a lame script pay remarkably well.” Jen leaned back in her chair, rolling her glass on edge, making water circles on the teak tabletop. “I’m curious…”
“Oh shit, here it comes. Jen, the former diplomat, is a tough cookie. Watch and learn, ladies.” Tobi’s narration sent another wave of giggles around the table, but Jen’s focus on Brigitte never wavered.
“Who draws the blood, and who processes it? If Bristol’s whole childhood was a lie, why would she believe you now? No one asks for a DNA sample unless they already have a good idea what they are looking for—so, what’s your angle?” Catalina and Asia both raised their brows, surprised by Jen’s insight. Bristol was impressed with her friend’s condensed version of the questions running through her head.
“I wouldn’t expect her to believe me without someone speaking on my behalf. Ask Charlotte if I’m trustworthy. Ask her if I work on behalf of the Magic Council. As for who will draw and have access to the blood, it was a concern we anticipated. We’d like you to go to Boston.”
“Of course, you mean the Monroe Estate. Israel isn’t going to agree to anyone else being involved.” Asia’s words were barely polite, her voice frosty, but Brigitte was unaffected. “Did you mention this when you spoke with Israel and Austin earlier?” Charlotte’s aunt raised a brow at the challenge, but Asia stood her ground.
“No, I didn’t say anything to the men, out of respect for Dr. Banks. She is an adult, and aside from a few drinks, I believe she is more than capable of deciding whether to help us make sense of this. I wouldn’t have talked to her in front of this group, but I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I could get her alone. Face it, you’re a formidable group of women.”
“It’s okay to tell her you want to think about it, Bristol.” Charlotte’s soft-spoken words penetrated Bristol’s racing thoughts, warming her heart.
“I’m not the enemy here. I’m trying to help you navigate murky waters without getting eaten by sharks. Clovia Williams is well-connected politically. Note, I didn’t say she was popular, but she’s got an impressive pedigree within the magical community, so you’re going to need equal clout to take her down.”
“I don’t understand what any of this means. I’m sure your offer of help is sincere, but I don’t make a decision without fully understanding everything involved.” Bristol was starting to feel as though everything was closing in around her. It was suffocating and frightening.
Good girl. We’re on our way back. Austin and I want to join your conversation. Hang in there, the Calvary is coming.
Israel’s voice moved through her mind, the words bringing a wave of relief. She’d been alone for so long, it was nice to know she had people willing to help her avoid making a mistake. Before she started her own practice, she had never had anything to lose by making a mistake. Now, things were entirely different.
“Fucking hell, I feel like some sort of conduit for evil.” Catalina wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered.
“I suspect your statement is half right. You’re a conduit—a powerful one. If the Council believed you were practicing dark magic, they’d have summoned you the first time someone fell ass over tea kettle into your memory.” Brigitte shook her head as if she couldn’t understand how the conversation had gotten so off track.
“Been there, done that on the ass over tea kettle thing.” Tobi’s giggle broke through the tension of the moment.
“I don’t think you and Aunt Gigi are talking about the same thing, but I like your version better. Don’t get me wrong, I love my grandfather, so my view of trips before the Magic Council is different, but let’s face it… orgasms trump inquisitions.”
“Good to know.” Austin’s voice sounded from the side as he stalked from the shadows, pulling his wife to her feet to kiss her with enough heat to make the other women at the table swoon. Israel pulled Bristol to her feet as well and wrapped her in his arms.
I’m not happy with Brigitte. She should have given us a heads up about what she knew. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when she hit you with both barrels. I believe Brigitte is honest, but her delivery could use some work.
Chapter Seventeen
Israel was livid. Technically, Brigitte was in the right, but that didn’t keep him from being frustrated with her. He hated knowing Bristol had been caught completely off guard in front of the women she considered her friends. He didn’t have the impression she was close to the man and woman she knew as parents, but now, she’d be faced with grieving again… this time for her real family.
By the time the Wests picked up Tobi, Gracie, and Jen, he and Austin decided to table any discussion until they all had a good night’s sleep. Israel ushered a very subdued Bristol to the elevator. The waves of confusion surrounding her were so dense, they were almost tangible.
“Tell me what you need, Bristol.” Israel had his own opinion, but she needed to make the decision. Empowering his mate was the greatest gift he could give her, and he wasn’t going to miss this chance to show her how serious he was about letting her set the pace.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I’m adrift in a raging sea, the engine won’t start on the boat, and paddling would be an exercise in futility.” That’s where they disagreed. He thought a paddling might be just what she needed. Edging with pain before tipping over into pleasure might be just what the doctor needed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this… but could you please give me what you think I need? Just take my mind off all this for a while?”
“It will be my pleasure, Beautiful.” He meant every word. He intended to flood her with endorphins, giving her a physical reprieve and her brilliant mind a rest. Over the years, he’d known a lot of successful women who used BDSM as a way to escape their pressure-cooker lives—even if it was only for a night. They leapt at the chance to turn the decision over to a Dominant they trusted—a man or woman who could read their bodies like a book and meet every challenge.
Stepping into the cool suite, he noticed her shiver but knew it was more from anticipation than the chilled air. She hadn’t had anything to drink for over an hour and reeling from the bombardment of information had burned off the last of the alcohol, but he planned to make certain she drank plenty of water before they started. Walking an emotional edge was usually a recipe for tears, and he didn’t want there to be a risk of dehydration.
Handing her a bottle of water from the refrigerator, Israel nodded in appro
val when she started drinking. Stepping around her, Israel pulled a hair tie from his pocket and started finger-combing her hair. Once he’d divided it into sections, it didn’t take him long to braid the long strands. She finished the water, and he turned her to face him.
“Strip.” He didn’t offer any explanation; this was about getting her out of her head. He’d use any means possible to help her forget the shit storm she’d stepped into—even for a few minutes. Brigitte was a closed book until she let him in. Her magical powers were phenomenal for her age. By the time she was her father’s age, she would be a force, unlike any other.
Bristol pulled the sundress he’d given her earlier in the day over her head, leaving her standing nude.
“Fuck me, you are beautiful. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you are still bare beneath that dress.” Glancing down to where the garment lay, he chuckled. “It’s damned pretty, and it looks phenomenal on you, but after the day you’ve had, I’d understand if you wanted to toss it in the fireplace.”
“It wasn’t the dress’ fault, and it was a gift from someone very important to me, so I think I’ll save it.”
Her words made his heart skip a beat—it was the first time she’d indicated there was more to their relationship than a few moments of pleasure, and he was important to her. Progress.
Leading her to the playroom, Israel wondered who was more nervous—Bristol because her anticipation and imagination were running rampant, or him because he wanted to exceed her expectations. Running his hands up her arms when she shivered, Israel was pleased to see goosebumps chasing his touch.
“What’s your safe word, Bristol?” True to form, she repeated the spiel he knew had been driven into her during her training at the club. Repeating the words verbatim was easy for a sub—it was understanding when to say enough that usually presented a challenge. “If you’ll let down your finely tuned defenses, I’ll know exactly where you are every minute.” He waited a few seconds for his words to move past the confusion of the day and imbed themselves in her soul.
Once he’d secured her to the St. Andrew’s cross, Israel brushed the braid over her shoulder, letting his fingers linger, tracing the contours of the top of her shoulders before sliding slowly up the sides of her neck. Leaning forward, he spoke against the warm shell of her ear.
“I can hardly wait to claim you. Our blood mingling will send us both cartwheeling into an abyss where nothing matters but the connection between us and pleasure so deep, it’s all-consuming. Everything will change for the better in a fraction of time so small, you’ll barely know it’s happened until a blinding burst of ecstasy flashes like lightning all the way to the deepest parts of your soul.”
Moving back, he smiled when she pulled against the restraints, trying to maintain the physical connection. The key to making her his was not only ensuring the pleasure was too much to walk away from. Bristol had never known what it was to feel truly safe in another person’s care. She’d been forced to raise herself. Her childhood was not only bleak, they’d recently learned it was all a lie.
Starting out slowly, he let her experience the feel of the leather strips of his flogger, sliding softly over the surface of her skin. He wanted her in the right headspace. It was important for her to let go in increments until they built enough trust for him to demand her to let go.
Warm. Sensuous. Tempting. How could I ever choose one word to describe the way it feels? He doesn’t understand how much I want him, but everyone leaves. My heart would shatter if he left. I can’t feel the loss if I don’t let myself love.
Israel fought the urge to reassure her, letting her know how much she was revealing, but it was too early to show his hand. Moving the leather falls over her upper back, he watched pink bloom over her pale skin as the blood rushed to the surface. He wanted to give her body time to prepare itself for the more intense strikes he knew would send her into subspace, but she was fucking temptation personified. Her soft moans were going to be his undoing if he didn’t concentrate.
“You’re so responsive. It’s a siren’s call to a Dom, focused on their submissive’s pleasure. I want to take you to levels of pleasure you have never dreamed existed. I’ll hold nothing back from you.” Upping the intensity of the strikes, Israel worked his magic over her shoulders and the center of her back before switching to the rounded globes of her ass. “I can smell your arousal, and it’s making me crazy with the need to fuck you.”
“Please. I want to feel you inside me. The burn of stretching tissue connects us. Your body pressed against mine grounds me. Words hot against my ear as you slide so deep, make me want to belong to you. Feeling the heat of your cock deep in my core is a dream come true.”
As determined as he was to take it slow, her words broke his control. Israel tossed the flogger aside and hit the remote control he’d set on a nearby tray before shedding his clothes.
Bristol drew in a sharp breath when the platform she was standing on began to rise. The narrow ledge would raise her to the perfect height, so he’d be able to take her from behind without either of them worrying she’d slip from his grasp. The shift in position was enough distraction to allow her mind to reengage, moving her back from the edge. Pulling another flogger from the nearby cabinet, Israel let her see the longer stands.
“Softer, but longer, this one is going to light you up, baby. Give the pain a chance to warm you, and the heat will push you right where you need to be.” Her entire body stiffened with the first strike, the snap of stands wrapping around her hip to kiss the tender skin at the top of her mound. Letting his mind reach out to hers, Israel was thrilled when he heard her silently begging for more. Upping the intensity in small steps was important. A big push would register as too painful and make her safeword out. Small increases were interpreted by the body in an entirely different way, the increases in the pain moving her threshold higher and higher until the flood of endorphins sent her soaring.
Bristol was lost in a maze of pain and pleasure, the sensations so close, she couldn’t distinguish one from the other. Every strike sent her up a notch until she’d lost count, and her mind went blessedly blank. Letting go of all the heartache weighing her down hadn’t been easy, but Israel was relentless. She could see why his flogging skills were something of a legend at Prairie Winds. When the platform started to rise, Bristol had been yanked back from the edge of the happy place, she wanted so desperately to visit.
The narrow ledge of the raised platform put her at the perfect height for Israel to take her from behind. She’d been anxious to feel him inside her but oddly disappointed when she felt her body moving away from the euphoria it had been chasing. Not fully cognizant, she’d been surprised how different the second flogger felt—the sting sharper, the heat left behind, searing. Was it just a few seconds ago I regretted the loss of those wonderful neurotransmitters? Well, scratch that complaint. ASAP.
Holy shit. Does anyone else hear a freight train? That was the last conscious thought she had before she felt herself floating. Oh, yeah. Here. Right here. Instinct took over as he slid deep inside her. Tilting her head to the side in a show of submission, Bristol bared her neck to him, a silent plea to be his. The move wasn’t lost on Israel.
“Mine.”
Her mind barely had time to process his snarled claim before the world around her exploded into dazzling white flashes of light. Heat burned like fire beneath where her shoulder sloped up to join her neck. The pain lasted no longer than a heartbeat before being chased away by the most profound pleasure she’d ever known.
Bristol’s sex pulsed, the muscles of her vagina clenching so tight, she could feel Israel’s pulse as blood pumped into his cock, his impressive size becoming longer and wider with every beat of his heart. As their blood mixed, Bristol saw flashes of his childhood flash through her mind. The brief glimpses reminded her of the old movies she’d seen, where you could tell the motion was made up of a series of still shots. His scent filled her nostrils, imprinting itself in every cell.
What seemed like long minutes could only have been a couple of seconds. It was startling how much could change in such a short time. The panic she’d expected to feel at surrendering her freedom was little more than a minor tightening in the center of her chest. Knowing she’d made such an enormous life decision in a moment of passion was totally unlike her, but as out of character as it was, she was oddly content with the result.
Israel’s flogging skills proved to be everything the other subs raved about. Thinking about her mate’s hands, touching another woman, made the hair on the back of Bristol’s neck stand on end. She felt Israel slip from her with a rush of fluid, her face heating with embarrassment. He leaned back against her, his tongue caressing the two small puncture wounds she suspected were already healed.
“Don’t get lost in things that are in the past, Bristol. No one can change their past. Worrying about it is a waste of your time and energy. From the moment I met you, no other woman held any physical appeal. You have a lot to learn about shifters. Mates are loyal to one another. There are many perks to being a shifter—enhanced senses, telepathic communication, and longer lifespans, and while I agree those are all important benefits, knowing we’re mated for life and only have eyes for each other is what’s most meaningful to me.”
It took every ounce of her control to keep from bursting into tears. Bristol learned years ago how to bottle up her emotions, shoving them behind an invisible shield where they couldn’t control her. As a physician, she had to make decisions based on facts rather than feelings. The habit was so deeply ingrained at this point, she felt blindsided by the emotions roiling through her.
“It’s sub-drop, baby. Perfectly normal and something they should have covered in your training.”
Israel’s hands were hot on her shoulders, the heat of his touch sinking bone-deep. Moving in measured increments down her arms, he finally reached her wrists and loosened the Velcro straps. Bristol gasped when the second restraint was removed, and her knees buckled. Israel caught her easily, pulling her back against his chest, holding her until she was steady on her feet. Bristol appreciated him giving her the opportunity to reserve a bit of dignity. Letting her walk from the room under her own steam made her appear stronger than she felt, and she was grateful.