Bound in Death (Bound #5)(22)

He took a deep breath, inhaled the scent of her blood, and then his fingers slipped inside of her wound.

She gasped as her body tensed.

He had to use his claws. Fuck, he had to use his claws on her in order to get to that bullet.

I’m sorry, a rúnsearc.

He glanced up at her face. Saw a tear leak down her cheek.

But she wasn’t making any sounds. Wasn’t moving at all. She’d frozen against that tree, as he cut into her.

They will pay. They will beg for death.

He had the bullet. It was still intact. He pulled it from her, slowly, carefully.

Smoke curled around his fingertips.

As soon as his hand left her body, Jane’s breath choked out.

He stared at the bullet for an instant, ignoring the slight burn in his fingers. Not wood.

Silver.

The shot hadn’t been meant for Jane. You didn’t shoot a vampire with silver.

He’d rushed to knock her out of the way because he’d thought that she was the intended target.

It was me.

Instead of saving her, he’d gotten her shot.

“W-when do I start to heal?” Her voice was weaker than it had been before.

He threw the bullet away. “It will start almost instantly now.”

Footsteps thundered toward them.

He spun, surging up to his feet.

Liam stood there, a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. “They’re dead.”

Good.

“There were two,” Liam said, his gaze darting to the ground behind Alerac. To Jane. “Both vamps. I took them out.”

Even after two centuries, they were still trying to take her away from him.

“We don’t stop again,” Alerac said, his hands clenching into fists. Her blood is on me. “Until we’re home.”

Liam nodded.

“Al-Alerac?”

Instantly, he turned back toward her.

“Wh-when do I start healing?” Jane asked again. Her voice was so faint, so lost.

And…and the bleeding hadn’t stopped. If anything, it seemed to have gotten worse.

He fell to his knees beside her.

“That shouldn’t be happening.” Liam stood over him. “Uh, should it?”

No, no. “You drank blood last night.” He’d seen the blood bag. She’d taken it— Jane shook her head. “I told you I…hadn’t fed…didn’t get the chance…before you showed up.”

Dammit. “How long has it been since you took blood?”

She swallowed. Licked her lips. “A few weeks. I don’t—I don’t drink much. I don’t like—” She stopped.

“Doesn’t matter what you like, princess,” Liam muttered and even he sounded worried now. “It’s about what will keep you alive.”

Her gaze was on Alerac. “I feel so weak.”

Because she was. She was bleeding out right in front of him. Dying, while he watched.

Hell, no.

Alerac put his wrist to her mouth. “Drink from me.”

She tried to pull away. There was no place for her to go.

“Drink from me. You need fresh blood. It will heal—”

“You said I would heal when the bullet was gone.” Her lashes swept down, hiding her gaze from him. “I can’t…drink. Not straight from…anyone. H-Heath said…”

“Screw what Heath said!”

Her gaze flew back to him.

“You’re a vampire. Drinking straight from a source is what you do.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t totally true, but he wasn’t about to go into the finer points of vampire lifestyle while she bled out in front of him. She needed blood. She was going to get it.

“I-I can’t…” Jane said, her words even weaker.

“If you don’t drink,” Liam cut in, his voice cold and hard, “then you’ll die. The bleeding is too heavy. Vamps tend to bleed too much anyway. If it can’t stop, then you’ll die under that tree.”

No, she wouldn’t. If he had to force Jane to take his blood, then Alerac would do it. There was no way that he’d lose her.

Her laughter was bitter, broken. Too weak. “I can’t…because I don’t know…h-how!”

His heart slammed into his ribs.

“My f-fangs…they aren’t out. They were…b-before. That was why I…stopped…” Her words were so low that, if it hadn’t been for his enhanced hearing, Alerac might have missed them. “I-I can’t—”

He had his own fangs. Fangs and claws. Alerac used the claws on his right hand to slice across his left wrist. Then, before she could argue with him, he put his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.”

She didn’t.

“Drink or die,” Liam told her, edging ever closer.

Her lips trembled against his wrist, the movement soft like a butterfly’s wings. Her mouth opened. She— Tasted him.

It had been so long since she’d drank from him. Too f*ckin’ long.

Her tongue licked over his skin.

His cock stretched, ached. Too long.

How many nights had he dreamed of her? How many times had he woken, reaching for her? Always searching, but never finding her.

He had her now.

Her fangs pierced his skin.