When Willow’s arms encircled his waist, he rested one of his hands over hers and squeezed them. He listened to her steady breaths as time ticked past.
After enough time passed, he released her hand, grasped the edges of the plywood, and carefully pulled it free of the beams. He set it down and pushed the boxes out of the way before stepping into the shadowed attic.
He took her hand and helped her out of the cramped space. When she started to turn away, he gave her hand a small tug and pulled her into his arms. Crushing her against his chest, he kissed her with a desperation that bordered on madness. He’d just found her; he would not lose her.
Stunned by the ferocity of his kiss, it took her a minute to react. And then she rested her hands against his chest as he maneuvered her until her back was against the wall. His hands slid up her hips as his fingers lifted her shirt. When his erection pressed between her thighs, she was swept up by the intoxicating, wild air surrounding him.
But before it could go any further, he tore his mouth away with a ragged exhalation and rested his forehead against hers. Willow struggled to catch her breath as her body screamed for release from the firestorm of passion he’d evoked.
When his fingers slid away from her flesh, she groaned. Even as her body was protesting the release denied it, common sense was returning to remind her now wasn’t exactly the best time for this. They had to make sure those men were out of the house.
Declan took a minute to calm himself as his erection would make walking difficult. They were still standing behind the boxes when the hinges creaked, and the attic door opened. Gus’s scent and light wafted into the cramped space, but Declan’s fangs still descended as he crept toward the attic door with Willow on his heels.
He poked his head over the opening to discover Gus standing there with an astounded look on his face. Declan had given him instructions to open the attic door, but Gus didn’t know why he was doing it, and he certainly hadn’t expected to see anyone there. Gus opened his mouth to shout, but before he could make a sound, Declan cut him off.
“It’s okay; we’re not going to hurt you.” Gus closed his mouth, but his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Calm down. You’re safe with us.”
Gus’s shoulders sagged, and his fingers stopped twitching, but uncertainty lingered in his eyes.
“Are those men gone?” Declan asked.
“Yes.”
He descended the stairs to stand in front of Gus. “I’m sorry about this,” he said honestly. “Did those men say why they were here?”
“They’re looking for two terrorists, and until they find them, they’re going to keep searching. We can’t leave town until then.”
“Maybe they’ll give up and decide we escaped once the search is over,” Willow said. She doubted it would happen, but she was trying to be hopeful.
Declan glanced across the hall and through the open door of Gus and Cheryl’s bedroom. He couldn’t see the street from here, but the hum of a lawnmower drifted on the air, and tires rolled over the pavement as a car inched past. He imagined that on normal days the laughter and shouts of children also filled the air, but not today.
“Are you the terrorists?” Gus asked.
“No,” Declan assured him. “We’re your friends.”
Though with friends like them, who needed enemies?
“Did you tell them you weren’t feeling well?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Gus muttered. “I’m sure it’s some twenty-four-hour bug or something.”
“So am I. Thank you for your help, Gus.”
Gus nodded but didn’t move. Willow looked away from the uneasy man as he remained standing and uncertain before Declan.
“Go back downstairs and stay with your family,” Declan said. “Forget all about this, okay?”
“Okay,” Gus muttered and turned away.
He walked down the hall and descended the stairs. Declan turned and lifted the stairs back into place. For now, he would leave Gus’s family with no memory of them, but he would most likely have to use them again. As much as the idea of doing it turned his stomach, he and Willow would have to feed if they continued to be trapped here.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Willow watched Declan from the corner of her eye as he leaned forward in the chair. He’d gone downstairs an hour ago to retrieve some of the lumber from the garage and a couple of knives. They each had a five-gallon bucket before them as they worked to carve the wood into stakes.
From down the hall, the distant thump of Gretchen’s music pulsed through the air. She’d retreated to her room shortly after Gus went back downstairs. At first, Willow welcomed the distraction; now, she was contemplating smashing to pieces whatever was playing that music.
Declan’s knuckles were white as he held the wood and twisted it in his hands. His fingers moved with swift assuredness as chunks of wood fell into the pail. The red highlights in his hair shone in the sun streaming through the window; it also emphasized the rigid set of his mouth.
Despite the fact the day had progressed peacefully after this morning, the tension in him was steadily ratcheting up. With a careful procession that spoke of his stress more than his tensed muscles, he set his last stake on the pile beside him.
Turning, he lifted his jacket off the floor from where it lay beside his swords. He removed a lollipop from an inner pocket and tossed the wrapper into the bucket before sticking the candy in his mouth.
“You eat the lollipops when you’re stressed,” she stated.
Declan glanced at her before shifting his attention to the window. Nothing moved on the street, and he hadn’t seen a car in fifteen minutes. He should be glad it was so quiet outside; instead, it was making him crazier.
At least he’d known where they were and what they were up to before, but he hadn’t seen any of the searchers in hours. Of course, they’d moved onto other areas of town, but he still hated not seeing them.
“Sometimes,” he said.
“Do you like them?”
“I hate them,” he admitted.
Maybe, when they were free of this town and she wasn’t in danger anymore, he wouldn’t require them, but he doubted it. Willow calmed him far more than meditation, yoga, and the lollipops ever had, but as long as she was a member of the Alliance, she would always be in danger.
Hell, as long as she was alive, the Savages and demons and the hate they spread were a threat to her and everyone else in the world.
Willow studied the riddle of a man she’d bound herself to for eternity. “So why suck on them?”
“Because they help keep me from killing.”
Her eyebrows rose at this revelation. “I bet that never makes it into a commercial.”
“What, you don’t think ‘save a life, suck on a lollipop’ would make a good slogan?”
Willow chuckled as she set her last stake on top of her pile. She slipped the knife into the bucket and set it beside the chair. Drawing her legs up, she tucked her feet under her ass as she turned to face him.
“It would definitely get me to fork over my money. How does a lollipop keep you from killing?” she asked.
“Using them not to kill wasn’t my original intent with them.”
“Then what was?”
“Originally, I really did want to see how many licks it took to get to the center of it. That commercial got stuck in my head until I decided to answer the question myself. But when I tried one, a palate that’s accustomed to blood didn’t take kindly to the influx of sweet.”
“Bet you won’t see that slogan either.”
Declan chuckled as her eyes twinkled with amusement. He’d never get enough of her radiant smile and the joy that lit her face when she wasn’t terrified or angry.
“No, you won’t,” he agreed.
“So, you knew the second you tasted it that it would help keep you from killing?”
“No.”
“Then why did you keep sucking on them?”
Declan shrugged and turned his attention b
ack to the window. He sucked on the lollipop as the day remained calm. He felt Willow’s eyes boring into him and turned back to her.
When he frowned questioningly at her, Willow sighed in exasperation. She didn’t know if he was purposely obtuse or if he didn’t understand his elusiveness was irritating, but either way, it was getting on her nerves.
“Why keep sucking on them?” she asked again.
Declan felt like he’d been slapped upside the head when he realized she was trying to learn more about him. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He couldn’t recall the last time that happened, or if it had ever happened.
The original Defenders all knew each other and all cared about each other, but they didn’t know each other’s histories, and no one asked. Their past was their past, their quirks were their quirks, and they all accepted it.
Ronan knew more about him than any of the others, but Ronan had known him since he was a baby. He’d been there through the worst times of Declan’s life. But there was still plenty Ronan didn’t know about him.
But now Willow was curious about him, and he understood why. They were bound together for the rest of their lives, and they barely knew each other. Or at least, she barely knew him. She was young, her life was very straightforward, and she’d already revealed a lot about herself, her family, her history, and she knew nothing of his.
For a woman who grew up in a warm, loving family, it must be terrifying to find herself mated to a stranger. For him, she was the greatest gift he’d ever received, and he couldn’t blow it.
“With as much as I hated them, I was still determined to learn the answer, but I found myself tossing them out before I got to the middle. Not long after I started trying them, I realized the taste helped distract me from some of my more murderous impulses,” he said.
“Interesting,” she murmured. He’d also given her a little more information about himself with this revelation. “So, when you stopped aging, your murderous impulses are what increased.”
Declan removed the lollipop from his mouth and twirled the stick in his fingers as a couple jogged down the street. Their golden retriever’s tongue hung out as it ran beside them. It unnerved him how unaware these people were of the monsters lurking in their world.
“Among other things,” he said.
“What other things?”
Declan stuck the lollipop back in his mouth. He didn’t want to shut her out, but he couldn’t stand the revulsion she’d experience when she learned the truth of him. Right now, she believed he was a good man, and he loathed the idea of ruining that.
He’d planned to tell her some of this before they had sex, but he’d allowed his desire for her to overrule his common sense. He hoped she didn’t hate him for it.
“I also crave blood, sex, and pain; I crave everything a pureblood male can once they stop aging,” he admitted.
Willow’s mind spun as she tried to absorb his answer. She could never fully understand what a purebred male went through when they fully matured, but she’d heard some of what her brothers endured. And each of them had only had to battle one thing, except for…
“You’re like my brother Aiden,” she said.
“I’m like your brother Aiden. He once asked me if there were any other vampires out there like him. I told him I only knew of one other.”
“But you didn’t tell him it was you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” Then he realized that was a lie, and he refused to lie to her. “I didn’t want to see the sympathy I knew would come into his eyes.”
Willow focused her attention on the window; he wouldn’t want to see the sympathy in her eyes either. “Maybe you could have helped each other.”
“There is nothing anyone can do to help another with their battle, unless it’s a mate.”
Willow turned her attention back to him. She sucked in a breath when she discovered him looking at her with a mixture of awe and a need so raw she almost tore her clothes off for him. But that could wait. She was finally getting him to open up a little, and she wasn’t going to blow her opportunity for answers.
“Aiden found Maggie,” she murmured.
“And after so many years, I have found you.”
And now he’d melted her heart, and she almost released an “aw” that definitely would have sent him running. She battled to keep her emotions from her face, but she must have failed because he focused his attention on the window again.
“Just because you manly men, purebred vamps have spent centuries not talking to each other about what you go through doesn’t mean you can’t start now,” she said.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he turned to face her again. “Are you suggesting we all sit down and discuss our feelings?”
She almost laughed at his incredulous tone. “Why not?”
“We’re not the talking type.”
“You’re right; it is a lot easier to bury your feelings by killing things.”
“Exactly.”
Willow chuckled. “It couldn’t hurt to try.”
“I’ll take it under advisement, Dr. Phil, but I don’t see it happening.”
“Neither do I,” she admitted.
She rested her head against the cushioned chair back as she studied him. She couldn’t imagine battling so many demons for as long as he had. How had he not lost his mind?
“How have you managed to keep yourself under control for so long?” she asked.
“Because there was no other choice, and I didn’t always keep myself under control.”
Declan braced himself for her next question, if she was brave enough to ask it.
When Declan turned to look at her, Willow saw the anguish in his eyes but also the defiance. It was like he was daring her to ask the question on the tip of her tongue. She’d never backed down from a challenge before, but was she ready for the answer to this?
He believed himself a monster, and he’d battled demons she couldn’t imagine facing, every day for nearly six hundred years. What if she couldn’t handle hearing the answer he gave her?
But, if she didn’t ask now, then she never would, and though she dreaded the answer, she would hate herself more for acting like a coward.
“What do you mean, you didn’t always keep yourself under control?” she asked.
Chapter Thirty-Five
He’d dreaded her asking the question, but he was proud of her for not shying away from it. Instead, she stared defiantly at him as she lifted her chin. If she were sitting across from anyone else, they wouldn’t know her emotions were bouncing around like a pinball inside her.
He took a moment to memorize her like this—as the woman who looked at him with complete trust and no hint of disgust. He’d probably never see it again.
“When I was a hundred and ten years old, I nearly killed a woman,” he said.
“A human?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s not—”
“It was more than one,” he interrupted before she could start to justify his actions. He refused to let her defend him.
“More than one,” she murmured. “How many?”
“Eight.”
“Eight?” She cleared her throat after the word squeaked out of her. “Eight?”
“Yes. And believe me, they didn’t live because I meant to leave them that way.”
“What happened?”
“Do you really want to know?”
No! “Yes.”
“I was at an upscale place in London that vampires frequently visited for some, ah… companionship.”
Willow’s fingers dug into her thighs as jealousy clawed at her heart. He’d been with other women, of course, he had. She wasn’t a fool, she knew that, but she wanted to kick the crap out of those long-dead women.
You're an idiot. That knowledge didn’t help ease her yearning to clap her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear anymore. But her childhood days of blocking out things
she didn’t want to hear were over.
“A vamp owned the place, and only vampires went there, so it was a haven. It was the kind of place where if something went wrong, it was easily covered up, but if you lost control there, you’d most likely lose your life too.”
“Okay,” she murmured, not sure how to respond.
His gaze was distant before he turned toward the window, and Willow suspected he was still trying to figure it out.
“I’m not sure what happened,” he said. “I’d like to say one of them tried to kill me or attacked me or something. At least I would have some understanding of what caused the snap. But one second I was in the room; I was having fun—”
“With all eight of them?” she blurted.
His eyes were silver shards of ice when they met hers again. Willow gulped; this wasn’t exactly her favorite story to begin with, and she had a feeling she was going to start hating it a lot more.
“It was a slow night,” he said flatly.
Her jaw almost dropped, but she somehow managed to keep it closed. However, her shock had to be written all over her face. The man he was talking about was so different than the one sitting beside her.
Because they are different. That was the Declan of five hundred years ago; this is the Declan of today.
Willow’s disbelief beat against him. He should stop; he should never have started this awful tale. But now that he had started it, he couldn’t stop. It was as if he’d opened the floodgates on his past, and there was no holding back the repulsive waters those gates once housed.
“One second, everything was fine, and the next, I was like a rabid animal as I pounced on one of them and started draining her blood. I remember having the idle thought I could let it all go, and then I was on top of her. It happened so fast, but it felt so fucking right.”
He shouldn’t be telling her this; he couldn’t stop. She was still looking at him as if he was someone who deserved sympathy, and he couldn’t take it. She had to understand he wasn’t a good man; he was a monster.
“The only reason the first woman survived is because the others tried to flee the room. The wild beat of their hearts and their screams lured me away from each victim so I could hunt my next one.”
Bound by Torment (The Alliance Series Book 5) Page 18