Bound in Death (Bound #5)(43)

“Do we have a deal?” Ryan pushed.

She smiled at him. The woman actually flashed dimples as she said, “I don’t make deals with vampires.”

He didn’t usually want to f*ck werewolves.

“But I think we can avoid killing each other until nightfall.”

Sounded like a plan.

He followed her away from the main house, enjoying the sway of her ass. A very nice ass, one that was encased in tight jeans.

“Are you this fierce when you shift into a beast?” Ryan asked her, curious. Because if she was, the woman would be one dangerous killing machine.

She stopped at the door of a two-story cabin, one with a row of flowers growing on its side. Pain flickered over her face. “No, I’m not.”

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

Her gaze slashed up to meet his. “Believe it. What you see is what you get.” Zoe swallowed. “I don’t shift. I can’t.”

A werewolf who couldn’t shift? He stared after her, and he felt shame. Shame that he’d attacked her. Shame that he’d made her hurt and— “Get your ass in here, Drac, before you burn.”

He got his ass in that cabin.

***

Heath stared at the pool of blood on the floor. His blood. Just inches from his face.

He should move. Get up. Run.

But he just felt so weak.

A door opened. Closed. Footsteps came into the room. Soft, rustling.

“Hello, witch.” That was Lorcan’s rough voice.

The footsteps stopped. Heath managed to turn his head, just a few inches, and he saw the woman.

No, not just a normal woman, a witch.

She was beautiful, with golden hair and deep eyes. But those eyes looked wrong—broken.

His gaze slid to her neck, and to the deep marks there. Would he soon bear similar scars?

Lorcan destroys everything that he touches.

The witch stared down at Heath. Pity softened her face. “I thought you were going to let him live.”

“I am.” Lorcan just sounded bored. He usually did. “Don’t worry, my dear, I didn’t drain him dry. He’ll be able to pull himself off the floor soon enough.”

The legs of a chair screeched as they were shoved across the wooden floor. Then Lorcan appeared. He wrapped his hands around the witch. Pulled her close.

The vampire acted as if he didn’t even feel the flinch that shook her. “Do you have the cure?” he asked as he bent to lick the woman’s neck.

The pain had lessened in Heath’s neck. What cure?

“I do,” she said. Her eyes didn’t actually look broken so much as dead.

“Once she discovers that she has a brother, Keira—I mean, Jane—will pay dearly for that cure.”

Jane had a brother?

I can use that. I can use this cure. Heath kept his body still on the floor, not wanting to draw Lorcan’s attention.

“Pity for her,” Lorcan muttered, “that she didn’t get the cure sooner. Now it’s time for Ryan to die. Time for him to burn.” He laughed then. “And he will burn, from the inside, out. He’ll die screaming. He won’t even last another full day.”

Lorcan freed the witch. He stalked toward Heath and kicked him in the ribs. “And, human, it’s time for you to finish our deal. Go get Jane. Bring her to me.”

Heath crawled for the door. And, with every painful inch, he planned.

***

She’d chosen him. Him.

Alerac kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. His hands were shaking. The control he’d kept so carefully was being torn to shreds.

Jane waited in the middle of the bedroom. Her arms were by her sides and her feet shifted nervously. “Ah, what happens now?”

Now he took her.

But first…Alerac cleared his throat, and tried to speak with the voice of the man. Hard, when the beast was clawing his way to freedom. “You have to bite me.”

Her sensual lips parted. “I-I already have.”

He shook his head. “That was different. That was about survival. This time, it’s for bonding.” He crossed to her. His fingers lifted, and his thumb pressed against her lips.

She stared at him, and the darkness spread in her eyes.

“You drink from me so that we can be linked.”

Her breath blew lightly over his thumb. “I’ll get more of your memories.”

“Yes.” That didn’t matter to him. She’d chosen to be his mate, so there was no going back now. He wanted her to know all of him. Good. Bad. Everything gray that fell between.

No matter what she saw in his memories, he would find a way to prove to Jane that he could be better. That their life together could be a happy one.

Her fangs were growing. Maybe he shouldn’t have found vampire fangs sexy. He did, but only on her.

“Go ahead.” He invited her as he forced his hand to drop. “Bite me.”

Her fingers rose and pressed against his chest. The palm of her right hand was just over his tattoo, and the mark seemed to burn at her touch.

“What is this?” Jane asked. Her gaze had fallen on the edges of that tattoo. “How do you even have it? I would think that when you shift, it would vanish.”

“It’s a special tattoo.” And it had taken two days to get it. Two days of gut-wrenching pain. Because she was right—a normal tattoo would have vanished with his shift. “A witch made a magic ink for me. One that would last forever.”