Unbound

by Лори Девоти

  Kara pressed her head against his hand and closed her eyes. His fingers kneaded their way down the back of her head, stopping at the nape of her neck. She tilted back her head, a soft moan leaving her lips.

  “What else did the garm say?” he asked.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “Garm. What’s a garm?”

  A line cut between his brows. “The bartender.”

  “He’s a garm?”

  His hand still pressed to the back of her neck, he pulled her toward him until she fell, cradled in his arms. Brushing his lips over hers, he whispered, “Perhaps.”

  Kara rested her palm on his firm chest. His heart beat a steady rhythm against her hand. Risk lowered his mouth, and captured her lips, his tongue slipping inside. He smelled vaguely of smoke and man, and Kara wanted nothing more than to curl up against him forever, forget everything to do with magic, hellhounds, and vile little men with magical stun guns.

  “You’re beautiful and innocent. No amount of power could turn you into Lusse,” Risk murmured against her ear. Pulling her hair back, he trailed kisses down her neck.

  Lusse, his boss. Kara frowned at the mention of another woman when they were in such an intimate position, his erection pressing against her side emphasizing just how intimate.

  Holding her in his arms, he twisted to a kneel, then released her body, letting it slide slowly down the length of his. When she was kneeling in front of him, he ran his hand from her thigh, over her buttocks and up under her shirt. His hand burning into her bare skin, he lowered his mouth to hers again.

  She placed both hands on his hips, skimming the indentation of muscle over his abdomen with her thumbs. His tongue plunged into her mouth with new intensity.

  Her back arched, pushing her pelvis against his erection. Murmuring something against her lips, he pushed his hands under her shirt and released her bra. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling her nipples until she wanted to scream from anticipation.

  Her eyes closed, she threw her head back. Risk pulled her shirt and bra over her head, and lowered his lips to her nipple. Muscles deep in her body clenched.

  The world pulsed around her. Her hands wrapped around his lowered neck, she straightened and opened her eyes. It was happening again. She could see the power throbbing around them, violet and red blending together, forming a cerise mist that tinted everything.

  She sighed, her mind accepting what only days earlier would have startled and confused her, but it felt so right — her power and Risk’s blending to make something so beautiful.

  Risk’s power. Red.

  The dog had been surrounded by red.

  A cold chill crept up Kara’s back. No. It was impossible. Risk couldn’t be…

  Risk’s hand slid down to the front of her jeans. The purr of her zipper moving downward, pushing her to speak.

  “Risk, why did the bartender say that about the hellhound?” she whispered.

  Risk froze, his fingers brushing the mound of hair covering her core.

  “I mean like I belonged to it or something. And then the man, the one who attacked me, he was talking to that dog.” She ran her fingers over his chest, willing him to say something rational and easy to push aside.

  Cool air touched her nipples, damp from Risk’s kisses. She suppressed a shiver. Why wasn’t he answering?

  “Risk?”

  His head was bowed, his eyes lowered.

  Unease crawled over her.

  He pulled his hand from her jeans and reached for her shirt. “Kara, we need to talk.”

  Kara could only stare at him. Her mouth forming a silent no.

  Risk pushed Kara away from him, afraid to tell her what he knew had to be revealed with her pressed against his body.

  Her eyes were round with dread, but she took the shirt he retrieved from the floor with steady hands.

  She could handle this, he told himself — learning he was a hellhound wouldn’t matter. Even knowing he had been sent to bring her back to Lusse in what amounted to a death sentence and that he still was bound to obey Lusse, to retrieve not only Kara, but now Kelly, too, she could accept that. Understand, that together, they could beat Lusse at her own hunt — somehow.

  She had to.

  But how to tell her? Deciding on the most direct approach, he stood. “Watch me,” he ordered.

  Her eyes filled with uncertainty, she curled her knees toward herself and watched.

  “Don’t move,” he added, then shimmered to his cabin. There he quickly grabbed a pair of jeans. Now was not a time to be naked with Kara. She was too tempting and too much rode on how she took what he was about to tell her.

  Telling himself, all would be well. He returned to her living room.

  Kara still sat on the rug, her eyes staring blankly out into the room.

  “What are you?” she asked, not moving her gaze. “I know you’re not a witch — you would have told me.”

  “No, I’m not a witch. I’m a forandre.” A place to start. The full truth would come. He lowered himself to the floor a few feet away from her. “You know I said I work for a witch?”

  She looked at him then, nodding.

  “It’s more than that. My parents sold me to her when I was eight.”

  Her eyes showed her shock. “Your parents sold you? How can that be? Is that legal…” she paused, her mind obviously working to sort through the possibilities “…anywhere?”

  He laughed. “It’s more than legal. In my world, especially at that time, it was considered an honor. Every family wanted one of theirs to be bound to a great power — a god or if they were strong enough, a witch. And Lusse is the strongest.” He glanced at her, thought of how she had drained away his power in the parking lot with an ease Lusse had never possessed. “Or was.”

  “So, you’re bound to this witch. What does that mean, and what is a forandre? What does she want from you?” Kara pulled her knees tighter, as if shielding herself from the answers.

  Three questions. Risk chose the first. “It means I can’t escape her. I belong to her. If I try to ignore what she asks of me, she can starve me, torture me, whatever she wants and no one will stop her. If I try to escape…” He reached up and grabbed the silver chain at his neck. “She calls me back. I am bound to do her bidding.”

  Kara’s brows lowered, her full lips falling open. “That’s awful. How long has it been?”

  “Five hundred years.”

  Five hundred years? Kara blinked. “But that means you’re…immortal.” That was too much. Magic okay, doorways that took you back where you started maybe — but the virile man she’d made love to…five hundred years old? No. That was impossible. She looked at Risk, waiting for him to correct her.

  “Not immortal.”

  Kara let out a breath.

  “But close.”

  She inhaled through her teeth. “How close?”

  “Forandre can be killed. It’s just hard for anyone besides another forandre or a god to do it.”

  “What about old age?” she asked, not even sure her lips were moving — the world she had just been dropped in was so surreal.

  He shrugged. “My father was eight hundred when I left. I don’t know if he’s still alive or not.” His fingers curled into his palms.

  Kara stared at his balled fist. “So, thirteen hundred years old?”

  He flicked his hands open. “Maybe, maybe less. He could be dead by now.” He swallowed hard, stared down at his fingers.

  A band constricted around Kara’s heart. Five hundred years Risk had spent bound to another person. His family cut off from him, possibly dead. At least she’d had her parents until she was out of high school, an adult — and then Kelly…

  “How do you keep going?” she asked, longing to go to him, to comfort him, even though he’d made no indication he wanted that. But something kept her planted on the rug, something in his posture telling her more was to come.

  He frowned. “I didn’t think I had another choice, until recently.”

&
nbsp; Kara tilted her head. “So, you think you do now?”

  He nodded. “I do, but there’s more I have to tell you.”

  She pulled her lip into her mouth.

  “You asked why the hellhound wanted you.” He flexed his fingers. “He was sent to hunt you down. To take you back to the witch he’s bound to. So she could drain your powers to bolster her own.”

  “He…it is bound to a witch? Like…you?” Pieces of conversation, snippets of events from the last few days began tumbling through Kara’s mind. Then one by one they snapped into place and Kara looked up, her hand covering her mouth. “No.”

  “Exactly like me,” Risk responded.

  Kara stared at him, trying to imagine the man who had stroked her so gently, made love to her as no one ever had before, made her feel stronger than she ever thought she could…tried to imagine him as the snarling beast of her nightmares. “But you can’t be…I mean…It’s a dog. You’re a man.”

  “Forandre. A shape-shifter.”

  Kara jumped to her feet, her hands held out in front of her. “You were the dog in the parking lot — the one who attacked me?”

  He shook his head. “No, I was the second hound. The one who saved you from the first.”

  Kara’s mind was whirling. “But you were there to…?”

  “To capture you for Lusse. It’s true.”

  “But you’ve never hurt…” She let the word trail off. She could see the hideous truth in his eyes.

  “And Kelly? Is that why you wanted to find her, too?”

  He nodded. “Twin witches are very rare. Legendary. Lusse wants you both, but I also hoped you could…you might be able to break her hold on me.”

  Kara stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. He’d never wanted to help her. He just wanted to use her and Kelly to save himself. “And after we helped you?”

  His held out his hands. “I don’t know.”

  12

  How could he not know? Kara knew — thought Risk knew. Even though she hadn’t said the words, hadn’t even let them form in her mind — she knew.

  She loved him.

  How could he stand there and stare at her telling her he didn’t know?

  Maybe she had fooled herself more than Risk had fooled her. Maybe his ability to shift into a beast straight from her nightmares wasn’t the only thing she had been blinded to. Maybe she was nothing more to him than a means to an end — chattel to deliver to his boss or a tool to use for his own benefit.

  Could she even believe his story now? How did she know that his family had sold him, that he was really bound to some witch, or that he was the dog. Each piece was more fantastical than the last. Wouldn’t she be a fool to believe any of it?

  “Show me,” she ordered. “Turn into the dog.”

  “What?” He looked at her, brows lowered.

  “Change. I want to see for myself that you really are that dog.”

  “Kara.” He held out one hand and took a step toward her.

  She raised her own hand, palm out. “Stop. Either change or leave. I don’t have time to sort through all this right now, to worry about the man that I — just change or get out.” Her voice cracked at the end. This was the only way. She had to know at least part of his story was true.

  Risk stared at Kara standing there, her face firm, but the slight quaver in her voice and the pheromones rolling off her giving away her fear.

  If he changed here in front of her, what would happen? Would she accept him for what he was, or run — never able to accept his demon half?

  Her best friend had been killed by a dog, a mundane stray, and she still bore the scars. How could she possibly accept Risk after actually witnessing his change?

  He dropped his hand. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t do it. It was hard enough to stand here and see the uncertainty in her eyes. Revulsion. Terror. To see those after the softness and concern she’d shown moments earlier would be more than he could bear.

  Lusse was right. Just this short touch of a human existence, a human relationship, and he was weak. Open to a hurt he’d never even known existed.

  “I can’t,” he replied.

  Relief, confusion, anger, and finally, resolve flowed across Kara’s face.

  “Then leave.” She pointed toward her door.

  Risk hesitated for only an instant, then turned and headed to her door. He couldn’t even bring himself to shimmer. Even that small natural act brought more strongly to mind the differences between them and the unforgettable fact that at his core, he was in her eyes a monster.

  Kara watched Risk drive off. She didn’t know why he bothered with a car at all. She’d seen his power to dissipate like mist, then reform miles away. She’d apparently experienced it herself. That at least explained her journeys from the bar to his cabin and her house.

  Why keep the Jeep?

  What did it matter? She pulled the drapes closed with an angry whoosh. He surely had his reasons. None of which were important to Kara.

  Her arms folded over her chest, she sat down on the couch. The couch where she and RiskNo. She wouldn’t think about that.

  Risk had lied to her, over and over. Making her believe he wanted to help her, that he cared about her.

  Okay, he hadn’t said the words, but — She picked up a pillow and shoved her fist into its middle.

  That was enough.

  As far as the rest of it, maybe he was the dog, maybe he wasn’t. Kara wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She had hated dogs for so long, feared them. To think the man she’d made love to was…She laughed. God. The entire thing was insane. That she might even contemplate a relationship with such a being was beyond ludicrous.

  But it was Risk, a tiny voice in her head reminded her.

  She squished the square pillow into a ball and buried her face in it.

  Why now? Why did he have to drop this on her now? When she had a real lead to finding Kelly. When things were looking up in her life.

  Why couldn’t he have just gone on pretending a little longer?

  She jerked her face away from the pillow. Damn it. Was that all she wanted — pretense? Was she that pathetic?

  Dropping the pillow onto the floor, she stood up.

  Okay, so Risk didn’t love her. So she’d come close to making a fool of herself and endangering both herself and Kelly. She hadn’t. She’d made Risk leave.

  Now she was alone — no worse off than she’d been before. Better off. She was wiser, knew about her powers, knew the key was at that bar.

  She could do this by herself. She didn’t need Risk.

  No, that same tiny voice murmured, but you want him.

  Risk drove as fast as the Jeep would go, the doors and undercarriage rattling as if pieces would fly off at any moment. He’d left when Kara had asked him, but he couldn’t walk away.

  Lusse wouldn’t let him, but that wasn’t all. It was Kara. He couldn’t desert her. She might want nothing more to do with him, but he had to do what he could to make sure she was safe.

  Maybe if he didn’t bring her and her sister to Lusse, Lusse would kill him. Of course, that would solve nothing. Lusse would just send another hound to hunt them down — maybe Venge.

  Risk whacked his fist against the steering wheel.

  There had to be a way out. Kara might never accept the reality of what he was, but there had to be a way to save her from Lusse and whatever else was stalking witches in her world.

  Gravel and dust flew from the back tires as he took the turn that would take him through the portal and to his secret escape.

  He’d found the doorway centuries earlier. The worlds were littered with portals, most of them just like this, leading to one small pocket of alternative reality.

  No one bothered guarding a portal like this — unless it was the being that claimed the patch of world on the other side. But the portal Lusse’d described — one that a forandre as powerful as a garm would protect — that had to be something else entirely.

  Lead eit
her to a number of worlds — or one claimed by a very powerful being.

  A powerful being who even right now could be stalking Kara.

  Another taxi ride brought Kara back to the Guardian’s Keep. She slammed the cab’s door and strode to the bar’s entrance.

  This time she wasn’t leaving until she found out who had her sister. Ignoring the sign swinging overhead, she yanked open the door and placed her slush-covered boots firmly inside. Take no prisoners. Take no flak. That was her new motto — at least for tonight.

  The bar was busy again — as it had been the first night. Every table and booth was full, all but two bar stools occupied.

  The same uncooperative bartender stood behind the bar, his gaze traveling over the crowd.

  Staring down a cocktail waitress who swung past her, tray loaded with drinks, Kara forged a path toward one of the empty stools.

  “Whiskey. And information.” She dropped a twenty onto the wood.

  The bartender picked up the bill, wadded it into a ball and set it back in front of her.

  “Go home.” He grabbed a bottle from under the bar and filled the glass of a man sitting nearby.

  Kara tugged off her leather gloves one finger at a time. “I’m not leaving. I know you know something.”

  “Do you?” He shrugged and swept some change off the bar into his waiting palm.

  Kara stared after him, her resolve still strong. “And I know there’s something funny about that door over there,” she called.

  “Really?” He cocked his head at her, then slapped an ashtray down in front of a soup-kitchen reject a few feet away.

  Kara pursed her lips. She would not be put off. Not this time. What was it Risk had called him?

  “Garm,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” He turned, spilling cigarette butts into the ice.

  “Garm. You’re a garm.” She’d surprised him that time. Her lips curved upward.

  He stared at her for the count of five, long enough that Kara felt the need to shift in her seat, but she didn’t. She held her place, and kept her gaze solid.