Bound By His Blood

by Jennifer August

  Brooks tapped his fingers on a trouser-clad leg. “Very intriguing. Did you actually imbibe anything while in his presence? Anything he offered you?”

  “Yeah, Ernest made me a Zombie and I gulped that sucker down quick.” She shrugged. “I was nervous. Just as I had my second, that’s when he got all creepy and weird on me. Barrett, not Ernest,” she clarified then clamped down on her runaway tongue. Something, someone was making her very nervous and her chattering was driving even her nuts.

  Valdór, the odd, burly Viking rose slowly and approached the couch. Sheridan held her breath, trying to quell the rising anxiety.

  He knelt on one knee, his massive arms crossed over his leg and regarded her steadily. “My lady, ‘tis unheard of for an unclaimed mortal to deflect such a powerful vampire’s command once you have partaken of his sustenance.”

  She looked up at McCallister, sucking in a breath at the blank, hard look cresting his face.

  “Why?”

  “Offering is everything to a vampire. He, or she, offers you a portion of themselves and you accept willingly. Once that happens, you are Joined. Linked. His will can become yours. His commands your only desire.”

  “Hey, it was some gin and juice, no vampire parts in there at all.”

  Leopold growled from the depths of his seat. “Bastard probably lined the glasses with something before you got there. Did your drink taste off?”

  Panic swelled and beat at her chest. Tiny pinpricks of pain and lack of oxygen made her heart ache. “It was gin, that stuff kills everything else. Are you saying he put...” She gulped and held her hand over her now-roiling stomach. “Blood or something in my drink?”

  The silence was absolutely deafening.

  “I think I’m gonna upchuck.”

  Beside her, McCallister stirred. His arm slid around her waist and he lifted her up and onto his lap, cuddling her to him, one palm spread along her back. She felt secure, safe. Her own palm splayed wide against his chest, taking in the re-assuring, if slow, thump of his heart.

  Another bit of vampiric lore proven false.

  “It doesn’t matter what he did,” McCallister announced, voice deep, measured and tinged with rage.

  Slowly she lifted her head and met his shining green gaze head on. Her lips were suddenly as dry as sand and her mouth twice as gritty. “Why not?”

  “I claimed you first.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re coming home with me,” McCallister said as he crammed himself into Sheridan’s lunchbox of a car. “Christ, next time we’re taking the Mustang.”

  She snorted as she revved the engine. “I don’t deal well with commands or autocratic asses, haven’t you figured that out yet? I would have thought the whole episode with Barrett proved that.”

  He cupped his knees against the hard plastic dashboard and gave her a half-smile. “Yeah, you’re a bit prickly in some areas. But in others, sweetheart, you’re perfectly made for obeying.”

  “Forget it, McCallister.”

  But there was no heat in her voice. Indeed, he was pretty sure he caught a hint of grudging intrigue.

  “So, how do you know all those guys, er, vampires, anyway?”

  “We have the same goals in common,” he said.

  “Such as?”

  He slanted a look at her. “Do you really want to know, Sheridan?”

  Her cheeks went rosy. “Actually, yes.”

  “Then I’ll tell you. After the Joining.”

  She smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “Typical male. Wait, what the hell is the Joining?”

  McCallister’s nape crawled and he looked out the window. She’d already taken them far from Brooks’ impressive mansion. They crested the back roads, littered on each side by tall, dark trees, some of which bent into each other and covered the street. No streetlights, no illumination from the half-obscured moonlight in the cloudy sky above. Just black pavement and the miniscule beams of her VW’s headlights.

  Crap, why hadn’t he paid more attention? He’d allowed them to be driven into the perfect spot for an ambush.

  His nerves stretched tauter and he caught a flicker of shadows running across the road ahead.

  A haunting bay wound through the trees and echoed in the tight confines of her car.

  “McCallister?” she asked, one hand now on his thigh.

  He covered her hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured, but his eyes never stopped scanning the area ahead.

  He figured Barrett’s hybridized wolves would likely attack at the next bend—the last one before the road widened into a more-traveled space, lit by the county’s tall, steel lamps and occasionally patrolled by the local authorities.

  “My bullshit detector is in high gear,” she said and downshifted the car, slowing slightly.

  “Don’t,” he hissed. “Go as fast as you can and don’t stop for anything. Anything. No matter what you see. Or hit.”

  “Hit?” she yelped and again the car slowed.

  “Damn it, Sheridan, I don’t have time to explain.” The road started to twist and he caught the fast-moving shadow as it launched from the roadside. He gripped the dash and slammed his arm along her stomach, pinning her to the seat. “Give it the gas,” he barked.

  The car lurched forward with an impressive and unexpected response. A thunk sounded and the little car bounced up and down as a pained howl shrieked.

  More howls built and swirled around them.

  “What the hell is that? Was that?” Sheridan asked.

  In the light of the dashboard, her knuckles glared white and tight on the steering wheel and dazed determination covered her face.

  “Barrett’s attempt to stop us.”

  More shadows darted in and out of the trees, some swiping at the car, leaving behind the sharp rend of claw on steel interspersed with grunts and cries of pain.

  “Just a little further, sweetheart. Don’t stop. Can this thing go any faster?”

  She cut him a glare. “Tess can take on anything. Well, except a semi.”

  Her voice shook just the tiniest bit and he swallowed a grin of pride. She wasn’t the kind to back down, she was strong.

  For they were about to face, she needed to be.

  He had to get her to his house, finish the claiming. Of course, she had to agree to everything, too. The Joining had rules which could not be ignored.

  One of which was complete agreement between both parties.

  Sheridan had to agree to submit to him, to become his, to feed him.

  And he only had a few hours to convince her.

  McCallister looked through the tiny back window. Howls rose and fell as they left the shadows behind and he watched until they no longer moved.

  When she hit the freeway, he expelled a sharp, relieved breath and slouched into the tattered passenger seat. “Okay, you can slow down now. We’re safe.”

  She immediately let off the gas. “Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving out a ‘for now’?”

  “Because you’re a smart cookie,” he murmured.

  “Don’t forget it, either, buster.” The car hummed as they flew down the highway. “What were those things? They looked sort of like dogs or wolves, but not. I saw yellow eyes. And I swear some hands.”

  “Barrett is obsessed with changelings. Creatures that are half-human, half-something else.”

  Her head snapped in his direction. “Are you saying those were werewolves?”

  “No, werewolves are a much different society.” He rubbed a scar on his thigh received long ago during an altercation with one of those damn beasts. “And they most definitely do not obey anyone, especially vampires.”

  The car swerved dangerously on the road, nearly clipping the concrete zippers in the middle before she stopped, car drunkenly tilted to the side. She fumbled with her seatbelt, popped the door and tumbled out, landing with a pained “oomph” on her knees.

  McCallister wrenched himself from the car and bolted around, just in time to see her toss
her cookies. Or more likely, the Zombies and Shirley Temple she’d imbibed. Certainly nothing more solid than that.

  He whipped out his handkerchief and knelt beside her, wiping the sweat and tears from her face.

  She shoved at his hand. “Leave me alone,” she grumbled.

  “Shut up, Aames, and let me help you.” He cupped the back of her head and massaged her nape. “You’ve got nerves of steel, Sheridan, but you’re not Superman. Or Supergirl, either. You’ve seen and heard a lot of unbelievable stuff this evening and your body is rebelling.”

  She waved a hand at the still running car. “Water bottle, back seat.”

  He sighed and looked, but didn’t see anything. A flash of white caught his eye and he dug under the floorboard, pulling free a half-full bottle and passed it to her. She sat up with a wince and rinsed out her mouth.

  Cheeks full of the water, she looked at him, eyes suddenly wide before spearing the ground in front of her. She turned her head away and leaned down, the water streaming from her lips.

  “What, you can’t spit in front of me?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Good girls don’t spit.”

  “They swallow?”

  She gasped and slugged him. “You’re horrible.”

  But she was smiling, the light and color slowly returned to her face. He rose and lifted her to her feet. With gentle hands, he stroked over her body, brushing away grass and road debris, assuring himself she was all right.

  She trembled beneath his touch and grabbed onto his arms. “Is this really happening, McCallister?”

  He cuddled her close, resting his chin on her crown. “Yes, it is. I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this, Sheridan. If only I’d known you were meeting Barrett.”

  “Why would you have? It’s not like I was going to call and clear my plans with you or anything.”

  His heart constricted as all the what-ifs and near-misses bounded in his mind. If only he’d not been an ass and had taken her when she was at his house. Staked his claim fully. Joined with her completely.

  If she’d submitted to him Barrett would never have been able to get near her.

  Now, with the process only half-complete she was vulnerable.

  They both were.

  “We need to get to my house. We have a lot to talk about.” He hesitated then tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “To do.”

  Wariness exploded in her gaze and she pushed away, crossing her arms tight to her chest. She shivered. “You’re talking about that damn Joining thing, aren’t you? What Brooks was talking about.”

  “Yeah and the side of the road in the middle of the night is no place to get into it.”

  But she was building a head of steam and barreled on. “So, what, you fuck me and that’s it, I’m yours forever? Christ, you must have a thousand women who belong to you, then. Sorry, bub, I ain’t a bunny. Got higher standards than to be one egg in a dozen.”

  His lips quirked. “A bunny?”

  She sniffed and he caught a rush of embarrassment. “A dumb girl,” she said. “It’s something they said in the 1930s.”

  “I know,” he said. “I remember that.”

  “You remem—? Oh, for fuck’s sake, that is it.” She tossed her arms and walked in a tight circle, mumbling to herself. He caught a few words, enough to know she was casting aspersions on him, herself and everyone in the known world.

  He let her wander a few more seconds then caught her around the shoulders again. “Sheridan.”

  She looked up, blue eyes glistening with tears, the corners of her luscious mouth turned down and quivering.

  “Relax. It’ll all be okay. Let’s go home, okay?”

  She closed her eyes and her shoulders dropped. “You’re full of shit, McCallister. How can it be okay when I’m surrounded by vampires, chased by shadowy wolves, and being shot at by thugs because you blew my cover?”

  “All very valid and excellent points. But you have to trust me.”

  “Why? How do I know you’re any better than them?”

  His anger roared full force at the petulant accusation and she gasped, grabbing at her head.

  Her pain echoed in his mind and he struggled to contain his now fully-roused fury. He sucked in several slow and measured breaths, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “Look inside yourself, Sheridan,” he bit out. “You’ll see the truth.”

  He spun on his heel and rounded the car. Over the bug’s hood, he glowered darkly. “Get in the car, Sheridan. Now.”

  He felt her resistance, the lingering ache in her head and body from his tidal wave of anger. But beneath it, he sensed her resistance crumbling. They’d partially completed the Joining so a part of him was within her, though she didn’t know it yet. He wasn’t quite sure why he could feel so much of her emotion, though. He’d never experienced it with any other Consort. But then, Sheridan wasn’t just any Consort.

  McCallister tried to swallow his anger and focus on the night ahead. He glanced at the sky then checked his watch. Roughly three hours until dawnbreak. Not much time to convince this stubborn, independent woman not only was she his pre-destined mate, but being that mate meant she had to willingly submit herself to him.

  Kneel before him and obediently allow him to take his pleasure—and displeasure–—upon her body.

  How in the hell was he going to do that?

  † † †

  Sheridan clenched her jaw and tried a stare-down over Tess’s hood with her tall vamp but found that didn’t work. His eyes glittered with impatience, anger and something she couldn’t define but which she felt through her entire body. Her whole soul shook with that indefinable pull.

  She wanted him.

  No, it’s more than that. I need him.

  She was in deep shit here.

  “All right, we’ll go to your place. For now.” She cast a glance down toward the darkened road from which they’d escaped. “But you’ve got a lot explaining to do.”

  His curt nod was not encouraging. He stooped and folded himself into Tess and Sheridan furrowed her fingers into the tangled mess of hair she sported and tugged with a low growl. Damn him and damn this whole freaking thing.

  Vampires and werewolves.

  “Give me good old fashioned thugs any day,” she muttered and slid into the car. She slammed the door, ground Tess into gear and shot off toward McCallister’s house.

  His anger continued to bathe her in simmering waves and she bit at her lip. She had known as soon as the words left her mouth they’d been both unfair and untrue.

  She owed him an apology, but damn she hated saying them.

  “So, are these werewolves like you guys? All urbane and stuff?”

  “Most of them.”

  Terse and curt.

  She sighed. Loudly.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Silver bullet types or is that a bunch of crap, too?”

  “It’s crap.”

  “How did the movies get it all wrong? I mean, they’ve got you guys lethally allergic to garlic, invisible in mirrors, compelling us poor innocents with your wicked mesmerism and sleeping in dirt-lined coffins.”

  “They got some of it right.” Curt. Taut. Pissed.

  She doggedly continued trying to draw him into a normal conversation. If talking about vampire lore with a real vampire could be considered normal.

  “Which parts?”

  McCallister’s green eyes lasered on her with enough irritation to cook a steak. “Dirt.”

  She blinked, swung her head in his direction and gaped like a fish. “Excuse me? I’ve seen your bed, remember. No dirt there.”

  He shrugged. “I have several places I keep it. Boxes, vials, safety deposit box in the bank.”

  This last was said with a tiny bit less anger and hope bloomed. Her mouth had a tendency to run ahead of her brain. Maybe she could talk her way out of her insensitive idiocy.

  “Why so many places?”

  “We don’t have to sleep in coffins but we do need to
keep a bit of the dirt from our graves near us. It helps to balance us, keeps us strong.”

  “Huh.” Her mind turned this over and over. “It’s in the long box on your dresser, isn’t it?”

  McCallister started. “Why do you say that?”

  “Makes sense. You don’t have much in there and it was sort of in a prominent place. Plus the box is locked.”

  “Good point.

  “I have them sometime. What happens if you don’t have dirt? I mean, surely not every human who is turned into a vampire is actually buried, right? What about them?”

  Another small release of tension from the car and she breathed even easier, relaxing into Tess’ worn but comfortable seat.

  “It’s difficult to explain. I was never actually buried. My sister placed a marker atop an empty coffin for me. When my stone was erected, the dirt became imbued with a kind of ethereal energy and I was compelled to take some. I hear it’s the same for most vampires. I’ve also heard of other totem items being substituted such as clothing, jewelry, and hair. Like everything it’s different for each person and it continues to evolve as we do.”

  “That is just bizarre. If it’s not important why were you compelled?”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t important. It’s just not like it’s a kryptonite for us or anything.”

  “That’s interesting. Hell, this whole situation is interesting.” Sheridan glanced in her rearview and squinted at the overly bright headlights coming up behind them.

  Coming up fast behind them.

  Too fast.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Car.”

  He twisted in his seat, bonking his head on the low roof and cursed.

  This time she didn’t giggle.

  The car slowed as it approached, then darted around and in front of them and slammed on the brakes before letting up and easing forward again.

  Sheridan swerved to the right, dropped into fourth and nearly blew her RPMs into the red as she shot past the dark sedan.

  She kept the pedal all the way to the floor until she saw a multitude of lights ahead and none behind.

  “Why’d they give up?” she asked, thoroughly rattled.

  McCallister pulled his cell phone and jabbed at the keypad. “Pull a stunt like that again, you dick, and I’ll stake you myself.” He ended the call and dropped the phone between his legs.