Maybe that’s what he’d been trying to achieve by sending her here. Maybe he’d intended for her parentage to be discovered so she’d stay here and he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. Heaven knew she hadn’t been as easy to get along with as her mother had warned her to be.
Another shiver of fear raced through her, stealing all her warmth. What if Joseph had felt that tingle, too? What if he knew what she was and was on his way here right now to demand that she give up her life and start flinging magic around like some kind of freak?
It was possible. Terrifyingly possible.
A soft knock sounded on her door. “Lyka?”
Joseph. He was here, and the only reason she could think he’d come was because he knew what she was. Her secret was out. Life as she knew it was over.
Fear expanded in her chest until there was no room left to breathe. She tried to fight it, but her mother had warned of this moment far too often for Lyka to think she’d escape unscathed.
Don’t let them know what you are, sweetheart. One of their kind will claim you and never let you go. You’ll belong to the enemy. A slave to their power. Forever.
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d seen the way Theronai women looked at their mates, dreamy-eyed and docile. They might have access to untold power, but the cost was far too high. No power was worth a lifetime of bondage to the enemy.
Lyka was a Slayer. She would always be a Slayer. No amount of tainted blood could change that.
“Are you in there?” asked Joseph. “All I want to do is talk. I won’t even step inside.”
She didn’t trust him. It was a trick to get her to open the door. He knew.
Fear grew inside her chest until it became a living, breathing beast. It trembled through her limbs and forced a sour sweat to form on her skin, making it go cold.
The animal in her reacted to that fear, rising to the fore. Her teeth and fingernails began to burn and lengthen. Even though her suite was dark, everything became as clear as day as her feline eyesight kicked in.
She could see the pale, soothing colors, along with the soft contours of the furniture her captors had provided. Small personal items dotted the space—gifts given to her to lull her into a sense of false peace.
They wanted her to trust them. Become one of them.
The taste of blood filled her mouth. The hair on her body stood on end, and a desperate growl surged up her throat.
She couldn’t let him know that she was capable of shifting. Not only was it forbidden to tell outsiders that her kind was regaining their powers, but a sudden shift toward her tiger form might also end up being her only hope. The advantage of surprise might be the only thing standing between her and death once the Theronai decided to break the tenuous peace between their peoples. When that happened, she’d be trapped with the enemy. Her hidden strength and speed might be her only means of escape.
She tried to fight the shift, but she’d never been in control of it. Her Slayer side had always come out to play at the worst possible moments.
“I’m not leaving until you at least tell me you’re okay. I can’t stand the thought that I upset you.” His voice was quiet, low, and sexy as hell. She could smell his scent leaking beneath the door, hear his strong heart beating on the other side of the wood.
She wanted to open it for him. Let him in. Taste him.
No. That was her animal side—instinct and emotion. She couldn’t let it take over, not when there was so much at stake. The animal in her would want to kill him or fuck him. Possibly both. She had to lean on her Theronai side now and use it to keep her from making a disastrous mistake.
All she had to do was let him see the ring-shaped birthmark on her arm, and he’d know exactly what she was. No more worries. No more hiding. He’d claim her for his own and end all the fear of being found out. As desperate as the Theronai men were for mates, they might not even care that her loyalty would always lie with her own people.
She scrambled away from the door and curled into the smallest space possible.
“I can hear you breathing, Lyka. I know you’re in there.”
She held her breath, but all it did was lock his scent inside her nose. She could feel it becoming a part of her, tempting her to just let go. Those sword-roughened hands of his would feel so good sliding over her naked skin. As tough as he was, he would be able to take it if she got a little carried away with her claws and teeth.
Just the thought made her moan.
“Lyka? Are you hurt?”
She ached. Wanted. Hungered.
This wasn’t normal for her, not even during a full moon. She was always a little more easily aroused during that time, but she’d never felt anything like this before.
This was what she’d heard her kind talk about. This was the need.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’m popping the electronic lock on your door if you don’t open it.”
She dug her claws into her palms, struggling for control. She closed her eyes to block out the moonlight. All her focus went into the pain until nothing else mattered. She let it consume her world, and reveled in the sharp sting.
Slowly her body eased and the storm passed. Her hair settled and lay flat once again. Her teeth and fingernails returned to normal.
She took deep breaths in an effort to calm her nerves. The next breath she pulled in smelled like Joseph—a combination of leather and steel, spring rain and lightning.
“You’re hurt,” he said, only this time his voice wasn’t muffled by wood. He was inside her dark suite, crouched less than two feet in front of her.
His fingers were clenched into fists, as if he had to struggle not to reach for her. The magical, iridescent necklace he wore shimmered in the moonlight bathing her suite. His gaze was on her bloody palms, and concern ridged the skin between his brows.
She looked at her hands, realizing just how deep the wounds went. “I’ll be fine in a minute. I just need to wash the blood away.”
He held out his hand. “Can I help you up?”
She looked at his wide palm, easily twice the size of hers. Scars crossed his skin as proof of the battles he’d survived. Pads of rough flesh showed evidence of his work with a sword. He didn’t reach for her or try to hurry her. Instead he stood there, patiently waiting for her decision.
She’d never wanted to feel a man’s hand wrap around hers before. And she’d sure as hell never wanted to accept an offer for help. She didn’t need help. From anyone.
Why, then, was she so desperate to feel his fingers wrap around hers now, when she knew how high the stakes were?
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his tone the same one he reserved for speaking to frightened children.
Lyka shoved herself up with her legs, using the wall at her back to support her. She didn’t want him to know just how unsteady she was on her feet, how much his presence had affected her. The second she could, she turned her back on him and inched into the kitchen to wash the blood from her palms. Her skin had already begun healing, thanks to her Slayer genetics.
“How did you get hurt?” he asked from behind her.
“Paper cut.”
“You don’t want to tell me? That’s fine. But keep in mind that it’s my duty to see to your safety for as long as you’re in my care. If I think you’re at risk of getting hurt again, I may have to assign one of my men to guard you.”
The idea turned her stomach. The last thing she needed was some brooding Theronai all up in her business. “No, thank you.”
“I wasn’t asking for your permission. Tell me what happened.”
Her chin lifted in defiance. “It’s none of your business.”
Joseph started typing on his phone.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Texting Morgan Valens to come and guard you against further injury. You won’t so much as get
a hangnail while that man is glued to your side.”
She barely resisted the urge to grab the phone away and smash it into a wall. “You have no right to treat me like a child.”
He gave her a level stare. “I have every right to see to your safety. If I don’t make sure you stay in one piece, then how can I expect your brother to do the same with my daughter? He holds her life in his hands. I didn’t want things to turn out that way, but, like you, I wasn’t given much choice. We’re both just going to learn how to deal.” He paused with his finger over his phone, presumably about to send the text that would end her last shred of privacy.
What did it matter if she told him what had happened to her? Slayers were private people in general, choosing to keep to themselves, but if outing a few family secrets was going to help sell him on leaving her alone, then it was worth it. Besides, it was Andreas’s rule about not spilling the beans on her ability to shift. If he hadn’t wanted her to give away family secrets, then he shouldn’t have sent her into their enemy’s hands. She had to survive here. If that meant breaking one of Andreas’s precious rules, then so be it.
She let out a long sigh, wondering how Joseph was going to make her regret what she was about to divulge. “I assume you’re aware that we Slayers have been breeding with humans for enough generations to weaken the gene pool?”
“Yes. Andreas has put a stop to that, from what I understand. He placed strict laws around breeding.”
She didn’t comment on that. Better to stick to what was already public knowledge. “Centuries ago, Slayers could all shift into their animal form. Now . . . not so much.”
“That’s one of the reasons Andreas wanted the treaty. He needs the help of the Theronai and Sanguinar to help protect those of your kind who are too weak to defend themselves.”
“Even the wimpiest of our kind could kick your ass in a fair fight all day long, so don’t go getting a big head.”
He held up his big hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But how does that explain what happened to your palms?”
“My family comes from a long line of purists. Andreas’s father and my mother didn’t have their bloodlines diluted as much as most of the others.” It was more her mother than his father, but her stepfather always claimed all the credit for winning the genetic lottery.
“So, you can shift?” Joseph asked, sounding impressed.
“-Ish. I don’t go all the way, and I have absolutely no control over it, but yeah. I can shift—just enough to get me into trouble, mostly.”
“And that’s what happened now?”
She nodded.
He took a step toward her, and his arm twitched like he was going to reach for her hands. He stopped himself. “Does it hurt?”
She hadn’t felt a thing since his scent had invaded her head. Whatever cologne he was wearing was lovely, powerful stuff. “I’m fine.”
“I could get one of the Sanguinar to look at your hands.”
“No,” she said too fast. “I mean, no sense in bothering them. I really am fine. Speedy healing, remember?”
He stared at her for a long minute. His hazel eyes surveyed her as if he was taking mental notes of her condition. She squirmed under his scrutiny, but even as she did, her skin began to warm and tingle.
This man wreaked havoc on her peace of mind. He was dangerous in the same way that playing with matches near broken gas lines was. One false move, and she knew everything she’d worked to protect would go up in flames. Kaboom.
“It’s late,” she said. “I really should go to bed.”
His pupils flared wide at her statement. She could smell a faint thread of lust trailing from him.
He wanted her.
Some deep, primal part of her woke up and stretched. A slow, steady burn started low in her belly and began to spread.
Lyka stumbled away from him, nearly falling over her own feet. “You should go now.”
His mouth flattened and his wide shoulders seemed to droop. “Are you sure you don’t need a guardian to keep you from hurting yourself?”
“All I need is some time alone. Please go.” Before I change my mind.
He nodded once. “Sweet dreams, kitten. Try not to ruin the furniture with those claws.”
It was all she could do not to purr at the way his deep voice stroked across her senses.
A second later, his phone rang, playing an old Duran Duran tune.
Instantly, he went on alert, heading for the door as he answered the call. “What’s up?”
She could hear a man’s voice on the other end of the line. It was her brother, Andreas. She couldn’t distinguish the words, but she knew that tone. There was trouble.
“Are they on your heels now?” asked Joseph.
A string of four-letter words filled the line. Those were easy enough to hear.
Joseph shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come here. We have too many humans to protect, not to mention several pregnant Theronai women. We can’t risk their safety. You know that.”
Andreas’s tinny voice rose as he issued commands to whoever was with him. Then he spoke again to Joseph, and the Theronai’s face went pale.
“You brought her with you?” asked Joseph. “Is she hurt?”
Her brother said something else, and she could see Joseph’s mind change before her eyes. Whatever Andreas had told him was bad news all the way through.
“I get it. You’re coming in hot. We’ll be ready. Just hang on.” Joseph hung up, turning to her as he pressed buttons on his phone.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Trouble. You stay here, understand?”
She didn’t so much as nod. Instead, she stood there, her face blank, letting him interpret that as he wanted. Whatever got him out of her way the fastest.
The second he was out of her suite, she flung the closet door open and started strapping on leather and weapons. Her big brother was in trouble, and there wasn’t a thing Joseph or anyone else could do to stop her from going to his aid.
Chapter 5
This was so not good.
Hell was screaming Joseph’s way, and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t even keep it out, not with his adopted daughter out there, too.
Madoc met Joseph on his way toward the gates of Dabyr. The rest of the warriors he’d summoned were on their way.
“What the fuck is going on?” asked Madoc, his perma-scowl in place.
“Andreas and his men fell under attack. I don’t know all the details, but they have several wounded men. Synestryn may be on their tail.”
“And you’re letting them come here? We’ve got pregnant fucking women here, including my wife.”
Joseph refused to let the man’s ire upset him. “I’m aware.”
“Tell him to veer off. We’ll come find him.”
“I can’t. He’s got kids with him. And Carmen. There’s no way I’m letting my daughter sit outside the walls with demons nipping at her heels.”
“We need to go intercept them,” said Madoc. “It’s too fucking dangerous to open the gates.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” said Joseph. Headlights bobbed in the distance. “Besides, it’s too late. They’re here. Now stop bitching and draw your sword.”
“Fuck!” spat Madoc, but he rolled his shoulders and drew his sword.
Joseph’s phone began singing again about hungry wolves. He answered to Andreas’s voice. “There’s no sign of any demons on our tail. Will you open the gate?”
“I’d rather make sure you’re right about not being followed before I do that.”
“I understand, but the kids are scared to death.” Andreas’s voice lowered to a whisper. “And my cousin is about to bleed out. He doesn’t have much time.”
Joseph scanned the area, searching for Tynan. He was nowhere to be found, but Logan and
Hope were jogging across the lawn toward the commotion.
“Head toward the gate,” ordered Joseph. “Incoming wounded.”
The couple moved so fast they seemed to blur. Joseph still wasn’t entirely sure how the two of them remained so powerful without Athanasian blood, but so far their luck seemed to be holding out.
Joseph addressed the rest of the men who had gathered. “You three go outside the walls and make sure there are no nasty surprises trailing behind Andreas. If there are, shut them down. You three go to the back of the compound and make sure this isn’t a distraction for something worse. The rest of you stay near the gate. We may need muscle to move the wounded.”
The men hurried off to take their places. Joseph put the phone back to his ear. “We’re ready for you. The gate will be open. Don’t slow down. Got it?”
Tires squealed in the distance. “Yeah. Not slowing down won’t be a problem.”
Joseph hung up and called Morgan, who was manning the control room that operated the giant mechanized gate at the main entrance. “Get ready to open it.”
“On your go,” said Morgan.
Joseph calculated the time it would take Andreas to reach the gate at top speed. As soon as he was within range, he told Morgan, “Now.”
The heavy metal bars rolled open slowly. The engines of several trucks growled at top speed. They flew through the opening, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake.
“Lock us down,” said Joseph. “Check the perimeter cameras. Everyone stays on high alert until I say otherwise. If you see anything at all, call me.”
“Will do,” said Morgan.
Hope and Logan were already at one of the trucks. He’d crawled inside with whoever was wounded. Hope stood nearby, her hand on his ankle.
Blood dripped onto the pavement beneath the truck, proving Andreas hadn’t been exaggerating. His cousin was bleeding out.
Joseph hoped it wasn’t too late for Logan to save him.
Andreas got out of the truck and limped across the lawn toward Joseph. He was a tall, muscular man with a brawny build and tawny coloring, much like Lyka’s. His jeans were shredded and bloody. The leather coat he wore hung in tatters where claws had ripped it apart. One sleeve had three long slits slashed through it, revealing more blood beneath. His arm swayed from his shoulder, limp and lifeless. The fingers dangling there were turning blue.
Binding Ties Page 5
