Seduced by Blood (The Vampires' Fae Book 2)

by Sadie Moss

  Each of the brothers shifted toward me slightly. The movement was so small it was almost imperceptible; I felt it more than I saw it.

  The vampire king’s smile widened. His thick brown hair gleamed in the light from the wall sconces as he tilted his head back, staring down his nose at me. He didn’t look away when he spoke, though his words were directed at Malcolm.

  “Would you have any objections to that, son? Do you wish to keep her alive?”

  Malcolm’s boots scraped against the floor as he squared his stance, clasping his hands behind his back like his father had done earlier. “I defer to your wisdom and judgment in this and all matters of the court, my king. As always.”

  The air rushed out of my lungs, driven out in a whoosh by the panic and aching pain that had taken up residence there.

  What? My mind reeled. After his insistence on keeping my existence secret, the work he put into training me, the… the goddamn floor of the training room—he’s just going to defer to his father?

  Uncertainty reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. Maybe I’d been wrong about his feelings. Maybe he craved my body but didn’t care one iota for anything else about me. A body was replaceable, and I doubted he’d have a hard time finding dozens of willing replacements for me. For whatever I was to him.

  A burden. A leech.

  An inconvenience.

  I looked down at the floor, trying to force away the tears burning the backs of my eyes.

  If that was how Malcolm truly felt, I was on my own here. The other two men would defer to him, and in that chain reaction of deferment, my life would be forfeit.

  Well, fuck that. They wouldn’t take me without a fight. Malcolm had taught me enough that maybe I could at least take a guard or two down with me.

  Carrick chewed on his son’s answer for a moment, his brow creasing. He must’ve been in his mid-forties when he was turned. He had tanned skin and a handsome face with several deep-set wrinkles across his forehead and around his mouth. The signs of age somehow increased his good looks, which made me hate him a little more.

  “Well,” he said at last, clapping his hands together decisively. “You may not care what happens to her, son, but I feel it would truly be a waste to kill her. There’s no harm in letting her complete the trials. If she passes, her life will be spared, and she may join my court. If she fails… well, she’ll be dead anyway, so that will be that. Sound fair?”

  “Of course, father.”

  Malcolm shrugged noncommittally. He looked almost bored, and he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Sol’s arm around my shoulders continued to hold me tight, but I had to wonder if it was to comfort me or to keep me from running away.

  “Excellent. Then we’ll start the trials in a few days. We’ll keep up our search for any new shades and their masters in the meantime, but that will give her time to prepare. I believe in giving each candidate a fair chance to prove themselves.”

  “We don’t have time to waste on this right now, father,” Malcolm said, a hint of emotion finally coming into his voice. “We should be putting all our effort and attention on the hunt. The trials could go on for weeks—”

  “They won’t,” Carrick interjected. “A fledgling vampire’s trials don’t have to last that long, and I’ll make certain in this case they don’t. Nothing will interfere with your precious hunt.”

  “Fine.”

  Carrick smiled magnanimously. “Oh, and Malcolm? While she’s undergoing the trials, I guarantee no harm will befall her—outside of the arena, that is. If pressing business with the shades calls you away, she’ll be safe enough here.”

  The tension in the room eased a bit, but then Carrick grabbed my hand, tugging me from Sol’s grasp.

  Sol’s fingers clung to my shoulder for a moment before he let me go. My numb legs could barely remember how to walk, and I stumbled as I approached the king. He caught me before I face-planted against his chest, holding my upper arm with one hand while the other gripped my chin lightly, turning my head from side to side so he could inspect me.

  “I do hope you succeed, my dear. You really are quite lovely. And very intriguing. So much strength in such a delicate package. Once we get rid of the last vestiges of humanity in you, you’ll make an excellent addition to my court.”

  In my head, I told him I didn’t want to lose the last shreds of humanity I had. I told him there was no way in hell I’d join his creepy-ass court and spend my days sucking the blood out of helpless or unwilling humans.

  In my head, I kicked him in the balls so hard they lodged in his throat, made a break for the door, and shadow ran all the way back to my tiny, comfortingly shitty apartment in Brooklyn.

  In reality, I nodded and murmured, “Thank you, Carrick.”

  “Of course, my dear. You’re quite welcome.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles without ever breaking eye contact. He inhaled the scent of my skin, and I had to bite my lip to keep from yanking my hand away. Could he smell my fae blood? Could he smell my fear?

  The king nuzzled against my skin, making my flesh crawl. “So entrancing. So delectable. Has anyone ever fed from you, dear Willow?”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly thick with tension. “No.”

  For a moment, I was certain he was going to pull me toward him, rear back, and sink his fangs into my throat. But his gaze flickered to the men behind me before he shook his head.

  “Pity. What a waste.”

  Leaving those words hanging in the air, Carrick released my hand and turned for the door. He opened it and turned back to face me. “Thank you for inviting me in, my dear. It was truly lovely getting better acquainted with you. I look forward to learning more.”

  Then the door shut behind him with a soft click.

  5

  Malcolm

  I stared at the door my father had just vanished through, but I could barely make out the dark wood through the red haze tinting my vision.

  That son of a bitch.

  He’d known exactly what he was doing when he came here tonight. I knew he’d had his suspicions that I was the one who turned Willow, but he’d wanted to force me to admit it. At least he didn’t know of Jerrett and Sol’s involvement. Or that Willow had required three vampires to turn her.

  Or that she was part fae.

  If he knew how special and rare she truly was, he’d have locked her up in a tower already. As it stood now, he was merely torturing her to torture me. Using her as a way to jab at my old wounds.

  My father had never been able to understand why I hadn’t wanted this life, why I didn’t consider vampirism a blessing like he did. And his fury at me for not accepting the “gift” he had so lovingly bestowed upon me had festered and grown over long years.

  I drew in a shuddering breath, every muscle in my body burning with the desire to run after the old man and throw him into a wall. To fight him until blood stained the hallway and the pain in his eyes came even close to the pain he’d inflicted on me.

  But I couldn’t.

  For Willow’s sake, I couldn’t devolve into the man I had once been, railing uselessly against my father. I needed to maintain my composure, to remain as neutral as possible when Carrick spoke of her.

  He was using her to bait me, and if I took the bait, it would only make things worse for her.

  Unclenching my fists, I turned toward Willow, an apology on my lips.

  But before I could utter a word, the wildcat flew at me, her small fists a fury of motion as they pummeled my chest.

  “How could you do that? How could you leave me out to fucking dry like that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  She was small, but her vampire nature lent her strength, and each strike to my chest seemed to stop my heart momentarily. Tears streamed down her cheeks, tracking silently one after another.

  “I thought you cared about me. I thought you saved me because it mattered to you whether I lived or died. Was all of this—training me, protecting me, making me feel special�
��was it all a lie? Why would you do that? Why?”

  Catching her wrists in my hands, I held them out away from her body, stopping the attack. “No, wildcat. It was never—”

  “You deferred to your father about my life! He was the one who decided to spare me. He decided to let me live. No fucking thanks to you! Maybe I’d be safer with him!”

  At those words, something inside me snapped. I wanted to comfort her, to reassure her. But suppressed anger at my father still sizzled like hot oil under my skin, and the sudden flare of possessiveness that rose up inside me made everything boil over. I moved her roughly backward, using my grip on her wrists to press her against the door.

  Just where my father had her pinned when we burst into the room.

  That thought stabbed into my brain like an icepick, and my voice was a rough growl when I spoke.

  “Is that what you want? To join my father’s court? To become one of his playthings, protected by him and used by him? Did you invite him here tonight? Were you trying to seduce him, my pretty little wildcat?”

  “Woah, Mal! Not fucking cool.”

  Jerrett’s angry interjection barely registered. All my focus was on Willow’s face, as a stream of emotions crossed her expression.

  Shock. Pain. Indignation.

  “Are you kidding me?” she sputtered. “You think I invited him here? I let him in because he’s the damn king and I didn’t know what else to do! And none of you were here to help me—which I guess shouldn’t surprise me anymore. I should get used to fending for myself in this fucking court, because I’m obviously on my own. You don’t care!” Her voice broke. “If the king claims me, you won’t stop him.”

  Without even meaning to, the wildcat had pierced my very soul.

  I pressed closer, breathing heavily, crowding her body with my own. I wanted to shake some sense into her. But instead, I dipped my head until we were nearly nose-to-nose.

  “If he tries to claim you, I will kill him, little wildcat. Do you understand? If you believe nothing else, believe that. You are mine. I turned you, and that bond will last forever. You will never belong to anyone else, least of all to Carrick.”

  Her hazel eyes still flashed with disbelief, distrust, and such deep hurt it made my heart bleed.

  I couldn’t bear to see it anymore, couldn’t stand the distance separating us. I leaned down and claimed her mouth in a hard kiss, my lips demanding and possessive. I groaned, desire nearly blinding me. Her taste was as sweet and alluring as it had been the last time. How had I ever thought I could deny myself this?

  Willow gasped into my mouth as my tongue parted the seam of her lips. Her body jerked in surprise and her nostrils flared before she melted into the kiss, her soft lips giving and taking just like mine.

  The movement of our mouths slowed and deepened, and she pressed away from the wall, rising up on her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around my neck. Our chests pressed together, heartbeats slamming against one another as if the two organs were trying to collide.

  Suddenly, the wildcat stiffened.

  She pulled away, her face flushed and her soft blue dress clinging damply to the curves of her hips and breasts.

  “No!” Her eyes flashed, red sparks appearing in the bright hazel of her irises. “You don’t get to do this again! You don’t get to play hot and cold, kiss me and worship me whenever you want, and then act like you don’t care if I fucking die!”

  She shoved me roughly away. I caught her wrists again, but she surprised me by going incorporeal, evading my grip then solidifying in time to land a hard hit to my chest.

  Inexplicably, I felt my cock twitch. She was summoning the most primal part of me to the surface, and I saw a reflection of that same feral beast in her eyes.

  My wildcat wants to fight.

  I reached for her, my hands moving like lightning. Before she could react, I spun her around and wrapped my arms around her.

  “You’re wrong, Willow. I do care. More than you know.”

  “Stop fucking lying to me!”

  She phased out again, slipping from my grip and darting away. When she went corporeal, she charged me, slamming her palms into my chest with such force that I staggered backward several feet.

  Sol and Jerrett had stepped back, letting this play out. They knew she was in no danger; no matter what happened, I would never hurt her. And of course, they’d never stop the wildcat from lashing out at me—especially when they both felt certainly I deserved it.

  Willow had become quite the fighter. Her fae abilities only added to the skills she’d been developing under my guidance. She would soon become a true match for me. But at the moment she was blinded by anger, fighting emotionally rather than strategically.

  Rather than attempting to grab her, which would only give her the chance to slip my grasp again, I blocked and deflected every one of her blows, speaking over the sound of her grunts.

  “I’m not lying to you, wildcat! My father needed to believe it was his idea to spare your life. If I had challenged him or fought him, he would’ve killed you in a heartbeat just to spite me. I said what I did to protect you.”

  Her fist paused mid-swing, hovering in the air as she blinked at me. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and the dusky pink of her taut nipples teased me through the damp fabric of her dress.

  I was breathing hard myself, though not from exertion. With my hands held out before me, I stared into her eyes, willing her to see the truth in mine.

  “I will always protect you, wildcat. I meant what I said. You are mine.”

  Willow’s delicate throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her hazel eyes were huge, and she opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.

  Finally, she pressed her lips into a thin line, glaring at me. She straightened to her full height, standing regal as a queen as her angry gaze burned into me like a laser. Then she pivoted on her heel, marched over to Jerrett, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

  He staggered back a step in surprise, but my brother was no fool. In a moment, he’d regained his equilibrium, bracing himself as Willow crawled up his body like a succubus, wrapping her legs around him as she kissed him almost viciously.

  His hands roamed her body with an equal possessiveness, skating across the soft, wet fabric of her dress. He gripped her firm ass with one hand, sliding his other up the expanse of bare leg where her dress had hiked up.

  Jerrett’s gaze found me as Willow deepened their kiss. He raised one eyebrow, and a glimmer of humor reflected in his bright blue eyes.

  The fucker was laughing at me.

  As well he should.

  A chuckle reverberated in my chest as the tension inside me broke, lightening my dark mood.

  If my wildcat had meant to make me jealous by kissing Jerrett, she’d chosen the wrong tactic. He and Sol were more than brothers to me; they were parts of my soul. I would give up my life for theirs without hesitation, and I had no problem sharing with them.

  We’d never shared women before, but we’d never met a woman like Willow before either.

  I had misspoken earlier in my possessive rage when I told Willow she belonged to me because I had been the one to turn her.

  All three of us had done it.

  Our blood combined had brought her back from the brink of death. And she belonged to all of us.

  A small moan escaped Willow’s mouth as Jerrett teased her lips with his tongue. Sol closed his eyes as if feasting on that sound.

  Goddamn it. I’d been a fool.

  A fool to try to send her away, and a fool to keep a wall between us after she came to live with us in Washington Heights. It’d been an impossible attempt that had caused more harm than good.

  It had killed me to feign indifference as my father spoke casually of ending Willow’s life. Because the truth was, she meant more to me already than I had ever imagined possible. And as I watched her twine her arms around Jerrett’s neck, kissing him as if she couldn’t get enough, I realized my brothers and I weren’t
the only ones who’d been affected by the bond of blood we shared.

  She needed us as much as we needed her.

  And the only way we were going to keep her safe was to keep her close.

  6

  Willow

  I was melting.

  Dissolving.

  Coming apart and being rebuilt with each sweep of Jerrett’s tongue in my desperate, greedy mouth.

  Good lord. He has a tongue piercing.

  How had I never noticed that before? When he’d licked the frosting off my finger, I’d been so overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations that I hadn’t picked up on the presence of the piercing.

  But I was picking up on it now. Big time.

  The contrasting sensations of the hard metal and his soft, warm tongue made little bolts of electricity zap through my body, as if I’d stuck my finger in an outlet.

  One of his large hands kneaded the flesh of my ass while the other slid up my thigh, inching under the bunched fabric of my dress toward my center. I wrapped my legs tighter around him, losing myself in sensation.

  To be honest, I’d kissed him partly to piss Malcolm off.

  I’d been stunned by the vampire prince’s admission that he did care, that he’d given way before his father—something he was clearly loath to do—to keep me safe. But it had done little to lessen the anger churning in my stomach. If he was truly trying to keep me safe, he could’ve told me the plan, could’ve warned me about his father and the trials.

  Whatever those are.

  The mishmash of feelings rampaging through me had robbed me of speech. So I’d decided to communicate in another way, showing Malcolm without words that he didn’t own me, that he wasn’t the only one in this room I cared about.

  I’d wanted to hurt him just a little, like he’d hurt me.

  But I hadn’t expected the kiss to be like this.

  All thoughts of the king, the trials, and my fight with Malcolm fled my mind as I ran my fingers through Jerrett’s straight black hair. The side that was buzzed short was deliciously prickly against my skin, while the long section that always fell over his eyes felt like silk between my fingers.