by Sadie Moss
I hardly knew if I should believe that promise, but it didn’t really matter. My course of action was set. Whether he upheld his end of the bargain or not, I couldn’t back out now.
A muscle in Jerrett’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t say anything else. He pushed open the door to my room, holding it for me. “Get some rest, sweetheart. We’ll talk about it later.”
I got the sense he and Sol were barely restraining their emotions, and although I didn’t want to leave things between us feeling so awful and unsettled, I also didn’t want to poke at their raw wounds. It would probably send them off into a rage against Carrick.
“Okay. You too.”
My heart hurt as I watched them step back, and impulsively, I darted forward and pressed a kiss to Sol’s lips. He jerked slightly in surprise before his body softened, and a tortured sigh escaped his mouth as he kissed me back.
He gave me what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, though it looked more like a grimace. Then Jerrett shut the door, and they were gone.
Tears burned my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked around the empty room. The bedspread was rumpled and still slightly damp from where my wet body had lain earlier. The room still smelled of the incredible, intense sex Sol and I had shared. But all of that only made the room feel more desolate and lonely now.
Wiping my fingers over my eyes, I drew in a shuddering breath. It would be all right. We were all still alive, which meant there was still hope.
Dawn was breaking, and the color of the light streaming through the window shifted slightly as the dim sun replaced the moon in the sky. Suddenly more exhausted than I could ever remember being, I walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a soft, pale nightgown, and unzipped the dress I wore, letting it fall to the floor. I slipped on the nightgown, not bothering to root around searching for underwear.
I closed the shutters and slipped under the covers on the large bed, inhaling the warm, spicy scent of Sol that still lingered everywhere.
On the sheets.
On my skin.
In my soul.
Rolling over onto my side, I curled up into a ball, willing strength to find me in my sleep.
I woke with a start, a strange dream prickling at the back of my consciousness.
Groaning, I flipped onto my back, tossing an arm over my face. It was definitely still daytime, judging by the light seeping into the room. It glowed behind my closed eyelids, too bright.
Wait…
My eyes blinked open as I raised my arm slowly.
The light I’d noticed wasn’t just from the window. It was coming from me.
The runes carved across my skin in intricate patterns had begun to glow faintly, a soft yellow-white light. Like I was filled with sunshine and it was seeping through the cracks in my flesh.
Fear rose inside me, and I sat up quickly, tossing the covers back to stare down at my body. It wasn’t just my arm. Everywhere the runes were etched into my skin glowed in the same way, from my legs all the way up. The runes on my stomach shone through the soft material of my nightgown, muted and blurry.
What the hell?
This wasn’t right. I had no idea what it meant or why it was happening, but considering where these markings had come from, it couldn’t be anything good.
The brothers might still be furious at me, but I knew without a doubt they’d help me. I leapt out of bed, wrapping my glowing arms around my body as if I was trying to contain an impending explosion.
Shit, for all I knew, I was.
I darted toward the door, but before I reached it, the world swam in front of my eyes. Everything seemed to ripple and grow dim like it was deep underwater. My hand reaching for the door handle became uncertain. I could see the handle, but I couldn’t seem to make myself grasp it.
Cotton seemed to fill my brain, muffling outside sounds and making coherent thought difficult. A whispering, rushing noise grew in volume until it coalesced as an echoing voice inside my head.
Kill them.
The voice wasn’t my own, but the thought was mine. Wasn’t it?
Yes. Of course it was. That’s what’d woken me up in the middle of the day like this.
I had a job to do.
Kill them.
Yes. I needed to kill them. And it needed to be done quickly.
My vision was still hazy and strange, but my body obeyed my command this time when I instructed it to open the door. I turned the handle slowly and eased out into the hallway, aware that I needed to be stealthy if I was going to kill all three of the men.
The hallway was dark and quiet, and I crept softly over to the door a little ways down from me. I tried the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. Locked. Of course. The brothers didn’t trust anyone here; they wouldn’t leave themselves exposed like that.
Slip through. Slip through.
A slow smile spread across my face. Locked doors meant nothing to me—not with my power. Summoning my fae magic, I went incorporeal, the glow around me fading slightly as my body became transparent. Then I stepped forward, passing easily through the heavy wood.
The interior of Jerrett’s room was much like mine, large and spacious with a bed in the middle, a wardrobe along one wall, and a small table and chairs against another. The shutters were closed, and small slivers of light illuminated the prone figure on the bed.
Perfect.
Still incorporeal, I stepped forward, my footfalls completely silent.
Jerrett lay sprawled on the bed, the covers pulled up only to his waist. His bare chest rose and fell with his gentle breaths, and the muscles of his pecs and abs were shadowed in the dim light. The tattoos on his chest and neck were dark shapes against his pale skin.
He was so fucking beautiful. Strong and powerful.
I cocked my head, my gaze riveted to his body. I could stare at his perfection for hours and never get bored.
But my body moved almost independently of my will. I faded back into a solid state, slowly lifting my right hand into the air. The dagger clutched in my grip glinted like the flare of a star.
Dagger? Where had I gotten a dagger?
A vague notion that I’d picked it up off the bedside table next to Jerrett flashed in my mind, but I had no memory of doing that. As if someone else had taken control of my body.
My gaze left the sleeping vampire before me, jerking upward to the knife as it reached its peak above my head. I tried to bring my arm down to my side, but my muscles revolted against the order.
I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t resist the compulsion that drove me. My head was still foggy and heavy, but I knew, somewhere deep down in my soul, that I didn’t want to do this.
Horror filled my veins with ice as my arm came down in a rush, the dagger aimed straight for Jerrett’s heart.
As I struggled to wrest back control of my body, a small grunt escaped me.
The vampire’s eyelids flew open.
Quick as a striking snake, his hand darted up, trapping my wrist inches before the blade connected with his chest. His blue eyes glittered like gems in the darkness as he stared at me, shock and confusion registering on his face.
The part of me that wasn’t truly me fought against his hold, ripping my arm free and raising the dagger to strike again.
This time, Jerrett rolled, kicking off the covers and moving to his left as the blade drove down hard into the mattress, tearing through cloth and stuffing.
“Will! What the fuck?”
Jerrett’s shocked voice sounded like it was coming from far away. He stared at the runes lighting up my body like some kind of sick Christmas tree, then dove to the side as I leapt after him again. I landed on the mattress, the dagger slicing a long gash in the bedding.
Kill him!
The voice in my head was louder, more insistent, and my muscles burned with a singular purpose—to trap the dark-haired vampire and drive the dagger into his flesh.
With a snarl, I turned toward where he was crouched at the end of the bed, but before I could attac
k him again, Jerrett leapt for me. I slashed out, but his arm caught my wrist, forcing the blade to the side as his body plowed into mine in a full-on tackle. I sprawled backward across the bed, and he landed on top of me, the weight of his large form pinning me to the soft fabric.
“Sweetheart, no!”
Jerrett’s eyes were wild with fear, and a small gash bloomed on his right cheek where the tip of my dagger had caught him. I bucked beneath him, unsettling his weight so I could wrench my wrist out of his grasp. He jerked his head to the side, raising a forearm to block my incoming blow.
As he moved, several droplets of blood flew from his face, landing on mine. One hit the corner of my lip, and even as I snarled in anger, my tongue darted out automatically to pull the red drop into my mouth.
The taste exploded across my tongue, and I froze.
Smoke and cloves.
Jerrett.
My Jerrett.
16
Willow
The full reality of what I was doing hit me, and my brain began to clear a little, as if I were breaking the surface of a deep lake, tasting oxygen for the first time in far too long.
Obeying an instinct so primal and raw I didn’t even know where it came from, I pushed against his hold on me, straining forward to lick the blood off his face. As the unique, heady flavor that was all Jerrett spilled across my tongue, my death-grip on the knife loosened. The light emanating from my body dimmed slightly, and the evil voice murmuring in my head began to fade.
I closed my lips around the wound, sucking and licking. But the cut was already healing. I needed more.
Jerrett groaned and pushed me away, his gaze flashing down to meet mine. “Do it, Will,” he rasped. “Drink from me.”
He kept my wrists pinned, but he turned his head slightly, exposing the long, corded muscles of his neck and the tattoo winding up the side. Panic flared inside me for a moment. How could he trust me to drink from him after I’d just tried to kill him?
How could I trust myself?
But the allure of his blood was too strong, and as my control over my body and mind began to return, I realized I had no choice. I needed it. It was what helped me keep the demon whispering inside my head at bay.
My fangs had dropped at the first taste of Jerrett’s blood, and now I ran my tongue over one, my breath coming in harsh gasps.
“Do it.”
Jerrett’s voice was soft, his gaze hot and intense. His beautiful features glowed in the light of my runes.
And I obeyed.
My head reared up, and my jaw closed around his throat. My fangs were razor sharp, piercing through the skin easily. The moment they did, warm blood welled from the puncture wounds, and Jerrett let out a sound that was half growl, half groan.
The taste of his blood filled my mouth, overwhelming my senses and driving the poisonous fog out of my brain. The glow radiating from my runes faded as I drank with long, hard pulls.
The clearer my mind became, the more horrified I felt about what could’ve happened. But I pushed those thoughts away, losing myself in the visceral experience of tasting this man.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart.” Jerrett’s moan was tortured, but when I moved to pull away, he followed me, keeping my mouth on him. “No. Not yet. Just a little more.”
I was only too happy to give him what he asked for. I gulped down the blood that spilled from him in time to the steady thrum of his heart, until I was sure my pulse had synchronized with his.
The last bit of light seeping from my body winked out, and I released Jerrett reluctantly, lapping at the small wounds in his neck until they closed and stopped bleeding entirely. Then my head fell back to the mattress.
We stared at each other in shocked silence.
“Oh my God.” My whisper was soft and broken. “Oh my God, Jerrett. I almost… I tried to…”
His nostrils flared, and he shook his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”
“I could’ve killed you!”
“Nah, I’m too tough for that.” He smirked, but I knew him well enough by now to read the unease in his voice.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sor—”
But before I could finish that sentence, Jerrett cut me off with a rough kiss. His lips were hard and demanding, channelling every bit of confusion and adrenaline that had been unleashed in his body by my attack.
I kissed him back just as desperately. To have almost seen him die at my hand was fucking with my head, sending guilt ricocheting through me. I wriggled my wrists out of his grip, pulling his head closer to mine as I ran my tongue along his teeth, brushing it over the sharp points of his incisors. I could still taste his blood in my mouth, and the intimacy of what we’d just shared made fire spark low in my belly.
I’d fed from all of the brothers when they turned me, but I’d been so far gone that I barely remembered any of it. And even if I did, I was sure it would never compare to this.
Drinking from Jerrett had been more than just a physical experience. It had opened a connection between us, something even deeper than whatever bond had already been there. It felt like our souls had twined together for a brief time.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
I kept whispering the words as I peppered every inch of his face with soft kisses. The short spiky hair on one side of his head tickled my skin, while the longer pieces on top slid through my fingers like silk.
Muttered apologies continued to fall from my lips as I worked my way down his throat. A fierce need was building inside me. I had to confirm that Jerrett was still here, still breathing, still with me. Nothing I did brought him close enough to satisfy the ache. I needed more. More, more, more.
Jerrett must’ve felt my savage desire, or maybe it had overtaken his body too. He pulled the top of my nightgown down roughly, breaking the thin straps and tucking the fabric under my breasts so they were exposed. My nipples hardened as he dived down to lick and suck at the soft buds. The metal bar in his tongue teased my flesh, pulling a guttural moan from my lips.
“Motherfucking goddamn, Will,” he muttered, switching his attention to my other breast.
His hand snaked down between us, shoving up the hem of my nightie before he slid one thick finger inside me. My back bowed off the bed, and my inner muscles clenched hard around him. He pulled back, watching my face intently as he added a second finger, hooking them to find the hidden bundle of nerves inside me.
“Oh… oh God.”
My whispered apologies had died out, replaced by nearly unintelligible whimpers.
Jerrett’s nostrils flared, the dim light glinting off his lip and eyebrow rings as he gazed down at me with such determined hunger it made my heart skip a beat.
“I need you, Will. I fucking need you.”
What came out of my mouth in response definitely wasn’t English, but my nod and my grasping, roaming hands seemed to get the message across just fine.
His fingers slid out of me, leaving my core empty and bereft. Jerrett kicked off his sleep pants and guided his cock to my soaked entrance. He ran it up and down my folds, stimulating my clit with the fat head of his dick. Then he slowly squeezed himself inside, teasing me for a moment, stretching my entrance before slamming home in one swift thrust.
He bottomed out inside me with a groan. His head fell forward, a lock of his dark hair brushing against my shoulder as I arched against the sudden pleasurable invasion.
“Fucking Jesus.”
Jerrett sounded almost like he was in agony, and I understood why. The intensity of what I felt walked the fine line between pleasure and pain. His thick cock stretched my inner muscles as they clenched against him, and the need for release made me ache.
He drove into me hard and fast, dipping his head to taste my breasts, to claim my mouth with feral kisses.
When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, his thrusts slowed, becoming even and deep. He sat back, hooking his arms under my knees and lifting my ass off the bed as he continued to stroke in and out
of me. My nightgown was still bunched around my middle, and I looked down the line of my body to the place where we were connected.
“Up here, sweetheart. Eyes on me.”
Jerrett’s voice was soft and silky, and when my gaze flicked up to him, I saw him dip two fingers into his mouth. He withdrew them slowly, bringing his slicked fingers down to massage my clit. He worked them in time to the rhythm of his thrusts, his burning ice-blue gaze never leaving mine.
When the orgasm barreled into me, stealing my breath and pulling a helpless cry from my lips, Jerrett’s lips curled up in a snarl and he pounded into me, rocking the bed with our movement.. He came with a groan, grinding against me as his cock pulsed inside me.
He set me gently back down on the mattress, collapsing on top of me with his elbows braced near my head. The tips of our noses almost touched as we stared into each other’s eyes.
I swallowed hard, the aftermath of the mind-evaporating orgasm making me feel raw and emotional. Tears burned my eyes.
“I almost killed you.”
His cock, still buried inside me, pulsed as he groaned. “Fuck yeah, you did, sweetheart. Holy shit and goddamn.”
My body shook as I laughed and moaned simultaneously. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know, Will.”
Jerrett brushed my disheveled hair out of my face and dipped his head, kissing me with long, leisurely sweeps of his tongue. The weight of his body was a reassuring pressure, and his tender gesture soothed me, assuring my soul everything would be all right.
But when he finally pulled back, he couldn’t hide the worry shining in his piercing blue eyes.
17
Jerrett
Holy fuck.
Holy fucking fuck.
I stared down at Willow, spread out beneath me like a damn gift from God. Her hair was a wild mess, her skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and her hazel eyes were dark, mysterious pools. Her cheeks were flushed from sex—and from drinking my blood.
My cock began to harden again at that thought, and I shifted inside her, rubbing against her stimulated clit. Her breath hitched, and I was tempted to flip her over and start in on round two right the fuck now.