Tribal Law

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Tribal Law Page 13

by Shannon Curtis


  “He attacked me. He almost killed me. He was so much older than me, and stronger than me, and so angry and humiliated that I caught him in the lie. It took both my father and my uncle to pull him off of me.”

  “God, I’m so sorry, Vassi.” It must have been incredibly traumatic for a child to be attacked by a vampire. At that age, a half-blood stood no chance against a miscreant.

  “My mother was livid, and was so angry with my father. Once I’d healed from my injuries, she took me to a miscreant surgeon.” She held up one hand, and gently extended her talons. “She never wanted me to be unarmed again.”

  Hell, no wonder she didn’t trust anyone with her secret. Her own family had tried to kill her because of it. He kissed her shoulder.

  She sighed. “Your turn.”

  He grimaced. Just talking about it dredged up bad memories, images that haunted him in his sleep, that attacked his conscience.

  “My father has a gift for convincing people to do what he wants,” he said quietly. He was glad she wasn’t facing him. He was being honest, yet he still felt a compulsion, a misplaced loyalty to protect his family. “So does my brother, but he does things slightly differently. He can be … impulsive.” God, that was a damn understatement. “He did something one day that I just couldn’t forgive, and my father helped cover it up. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t live like that. Since then I haven’t spoken to them and I don’t want to. My brother hates me and I hate him. We can’t be in the same room together. They can both rot, for all I care.” Harsh words, and he meant every single one of them.

  She rolled over to face him. “Well, aren’t we an interesting pair. My family can’t stand me because of how I am, and you can’t stand your family because of how they are.”

  She’d said it so simply. He smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing we can stand each other.” He hadn’t opened up to anyone like he had with Vassi. She did something to him, made him feel so weak, and yet so strong, at the same time. He didn’t normally talk about his family, not to anyone, but with Vassi he felt like he could tell her everything. Almost. He leaned down and kissed her gently, feelings stirring within that were more than just physical passion.

  She drew back, smiling at him. “We have to find out who gave Woodland the wolfsbane,” she reminded him. “We’re supposed to be in court tomorrow morning, and I’d like to have some information prepared for your defence.”

  For once, proving his innocence and clearing his name weren’t consuming his thoughts and energy. “We have time,” he whispered as he kissed her shoulder, smiling when he felt her shiver.

  “No, we don’t. You’re on trial for murder, Ryder,” Vassi said, cupping his face. Her brown eyes were solemn, carrying a dark weight that made him frown. “Do you know what a sentence would be like? You would be kept in a prison with other miscreants who have committed murder-across-kind. How long do you think you’d last once word got out that you were in for killing an alpha prime?”

  “You sound like you care, Vassi,” he said, gazing down at her. He could see her worry, her concern for him, and was touched.

  Something flickered in her eyes, and she dropped her gaze. “I—I don’t. I can’t care about every case I catch, Ryder,” she said. “I’d burn out. I just want you to realise how serious this is.”

  “Trust me, I know the severity of my predicament. I also know that you make a lousy liar,” he breathed the words against her mouth, then took her lips in a kiss intended to distract her and himself.

  His tongue tangled with hers as he pulled the sheet away from her body. Scooping her into his arms, he rolled onto his back until she straddled his hips, then rose up to a sitting position. He burrowed his hands into her silken hair, relishing the caress of her locks against the back of his arms as he cradled her head and kissed her. She tasted so darkly sweet. He ran his tongue over her teeth, enjoying the scrape of those cute fangs as her breasts rubbed against his chest. He moaned as her back arched, her hips undulating against his.

  He lifted his head to catch a breath, and she smiled at him, a wicked lift of the lips that had his cock hardening in an instant.

  She pushed him back down on the bed, kissing his neck and scraping the flesh there with her incisors before kissing a trail down one scar. He closed his eyes as those cute little fangs of hers nipped him gently on the nipple, before licking him better.

  He was as hard as a rock, and rubbed himself against the damp core of her body.

  “Uh-uh,” she tutted, and he opened his eyes. “Now it’s my turn,” she whispered.

  He grinned—then groaned as she nipped and licked her way down past his navel. She grasped him, and he hissed in pleasure as she stroked him from root to tip.

  He could feel his power coiling inside him, woken to a lazy alertness. His lightforce surged through him, and he knew his eyes were changing by Vassi’s gasp. He opened the bond, feeling it extend toward the woman who was now taking him in her mouth. He groaned, loving the wet warmth that enveloped him, sucking him, the sensations compounded by her experience, his hard strength throbbing in her mouth. She released him, stroking her hand up and down his length as she rose above him.

  “How do you do that?” she whispered incredulously. “I can feel you feeling me.”

  “A benefit of being a light warrior,” he murmured. He sighed as she lowered herself onto him. She gasped, her eyes widening as he slid inside her body. He gritted his teeth against the delicious sensation, her liquid heat surrounding him, her body clutching at him. He could feel with her the smooth glide of his body inside hers, how thick and hard he felt inside, throbbing against her internal walls.

  He grasped her hands, entwining their fingers as he lifted his hips. She moaned, undulating her hips in a slow erotic dance that had him clenching his jaw to stop from exploding. Her breasts trembled with their movements, and she started to increase the tempo, her gaze locked with his as they exchanged sensations, strengthening the bond growing between them.

  Seductive heat inside and out, he could feel her pleasure building, heightening, felt the walls around him tighten, heard her breath hitch, then her cry as her orgasm washed over her, and she bucked a little, her head thrown back as pleasure swamped her, swamped him.

  He pulled her down and rolled over, pinning her liquid heat beneath him, and thrust into her, over and over, as he rode her convulsions to his own fulfilment. She gasped, her flesh highly sensitised, as once again tension started to build to another release, a flashpoint of passion that exploded through her, through him.

  He growled as pleasure burst upon him, long and low, his hips flexing in tiny thrusts as he found his release.

  He collapsed beside her, panting, and she lay there, trembling as their bliss slowly receded.

  “That—that’s incredible,” she gasped. “Is that what it’s like all the time for you?”

  He hesitated. He didn’t know how she’d react if he told her he’d bonded with her. He didn’t want to explain what that meant, wasn’t quite ready to face what that meant. “Uh, only on rare occasions,” he prevaricated. Like, with a bonded mate. Yeah, not ready to face that just yet, not when he could potentially be sent to prison in a couple of days.

  “I feel fantastic,” she said, amazement in her tone.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  She shook her head as she rose from the bed. “No, you don’t understand. It’s the same kind of feeling I get from blood. Like a little rush.” She started to drag on her clothes, and sighed as she lifted up the remains of her camisole. It was less than a day old. She tossed the torn garment aside and dragged on her shirt, and his cock stirred once more when he realised she wasn’t going to wear anything else under that shirt.

  He rolled out of bed, dropping his gaze. Sexual energy was the purest form of vitality for a light warrior. With a bond connection, the intensity travelled both ways, doubling on itself. She felt energetic. He felt like he could take on the world. Yet if he
tried to explain why Vassi felt so damn glorious, he’d have to explain everything else.

  Not yet.

  He pulled on his jeans just as there was a knock on the door. After making sure they were both decent, he strode to answer.

  Dave stood on the other side, still wearing sunglasses, his arms folded, but at least he’d donned a black t-shirt and a leather jacket. “If you two lovebirds are done waking the dead, it’s time to go.”

  Ryder glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Vassi’s mortified gaze. Even from this distance, he could see the colour creep up over her cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry, Da—” she started, and Dave held up a hand, grimacing.

  “Ew, Vassi. Don’t care.” Dave shuddered, making a face.

  The tall man strode away, and Ryder couldn’t help the chuckle at their discomfit as he quickly shoved his feet into his boots and followed Vassi into the stone corridor.

  * * *

  Vassi gazed up at the store’s sign. “Um, isn’t that—” she began.

  “Yep,” Dave said abruptly.

  They stood in front of the Better Read Than Dead bookstore. Although it was evening, there were still a lot of customers browsing the shelves inside. Even from the street, Vassi could see a small gathering on the mezzanine level for what looked like an author event. Busy night.

  “Isn’t that what?” Ryder queried. He stood on her other side, and she was supremely conscious of him. It seemed like her body had gone into high Ryder-alert, sensing his presence, his warmth. He’d had to borrow a shirt from Dave—and hadn’t that been a mortifying moment, making that request. She looked at Ryder, and caught him staring at her chest before he finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and he grinned. Her cheeks warmed. It wasn’t one of those oops, busted smiles. No, it was more of a I-know-what-you-look-like-naked-and-I-can’t-wait-to-get-you-naked-again smiles. He didn’t bother to hide his attraction to her, which just made her think of all the things they’d done to each other in the bed just under an hour ago, and all the things she still wanted to do with him. His lips curved as though he could read her mind.

  “Dave’s sister,” she finally answered. Ryder’s eyebrows rose as he turned his attention to the store window.

  “That’s your sister?” he said in surprise. The stunning redhead behind the counter smiled at a customer as she passed a bag of books over to them.

  Vassi could understand his shock. Dave was tall, muscular, and had the look of a mean biker looking for trouble. His sister, Melissa, on the other hand, was tall and willowy, her vibrant red hair pulled back in a braid, her skin flawless. She was beautiful, angelic.

  And she was a class A bitch. The woman had a thing against all vampires. Werewolves too—pretty much any creature that wasn’t human.

  “Seriously? Isn’t there somewhere else we can go?” she asked her friend. His sister made no effort to hide her contempt for Vassi.

  Dave shook his head and walked toward the door. “No. Mel doesn’t just sell books. She’s your number one source for all defences against miscreants. If the wolfsbane didn’t come from her, she’ll know where it did.” The bell above the door jingled as he swung it open and stepped inside, Ryder close on his heels.

  Vassi went to follow, but ran into an invisible wall. She frowned. Damn it. She glanced over at Melissa, who now stood behind the counter with her arms folded, a smug little grin on her face. Ah, now Vassi could see the resemblance.

  “Can I come in?” Vassi asked. The property was warded. She’d need to be invited in.

  Melissa smiled sweetly, then pointed to the sign behind her. The dark silhouette of fangs in a red circle with a line through it mocked her. “No, sorry,” the redhead said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “No vamps.”

  “Mel,” Dave muttered, and Melissa shook her head.

  “No, I reserve the right to refuse service. This is a miscreant-free zone.” The woman leaned an elbow on the counter and cupped her chin in her palm as she smiled flirtatiously at Ryder. “Handsome, here, on the other hand, is more than welcome.”

  Vassi sighed as Ryder glanced at her in surprise. She waved a hand. “Oh, go ahead. I’ll wait out here. She probably won’t be of any help, anyway,” she muttered.

  Melissa made a face. “Bite me.” She held up a hand. “Oh, wait. You can’t—because you’re not welcome.”

  “Mel,” Dave said, resignation in his voice.

  “Dave,” she mimicked his tone. “I can’t believe you still hang out with that trash.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Vassi called out.

  Melissa smiled. “I know.”

  Ryder held up a hand, his gaze darting warily between the two women before turning back to Melissa. “I need to talk to you about wolfsbane orders.”

  Melissa’s smile faltered for a moment, and her eyes hardened. She glanced around until she spotted a member of staff and beckoned them over to mind the till. She stepped out from behind the counter. “What do I get in return?”

  Vassi rolled her eyes. Damn witchy demands. “What do you want?”

  Melissa arched an eyebrow as she looked Vassi up and down. “I don’t want anything from you.” She turned to smile at Ryder. “But you, Handsome …”

  Ryder sighed. “What do you want?”

  The redhead’s eyes narrowed as she tapped her chin. “Hmm, what should it be? A lock of hair? A date?”

  Vassi’s eyes flared at the suggestion and Melissa laughed. “Well, isn’t that interesting?” She tilted her head to the side. “Let’s just leave it as an I.O.U.?”

  Ryder rolled his eyes. “You are definitely Dave’s sister.”

  She shrugged innocently. “Well, if you don’t want my help …?”

  “I want it.”

  “Good. We should go downstairs,” she said quietly, then smiled at Ryder and placed her hand on his arm as they walked between the stacks toward the back of the shop.

  Vassi watched with narrowed eyes as the redhead glanced over her shoulder and shot her a smug smile before disappearing behind a door.

  Bitch.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ryder peered into the depths of the staircase. The place smelled like smoke—and brimstone. Melissa paused at the bottom of the stairs to pull out her keys.

  “What’s happened?”

  Dave halted on the tread behind him, a slight frown behind the sunglasses he seemed to wear everywhere.

  “Oh, just a little accident with a fire spell,” she muttered. She tugged a torch out of her back jeans pocket and opened the door, gesturing for them to precede her.

  The large room they entered was dark, with only light from the stairwell cutting a swathe into the darkness—and then she stepped into the room, switching on the torch and slamming the door shut behind her.

  Ryder turned to her, seeing just enough of her beyond the torchlight to see the smile she’d been wearing was now gone. She raised a hand toward Ryder as a warm breeze lifted loose tendrils of her hair. She glared at him, her eyes narrowed as she started to mutter something incomprehensible, and then he felt it.

  Invisible bonds sliding around his torso, trapping his arms against his sides. He hissed at the slow-building burn that roped his body, before glaring at the pretty witch who had seemed all flirty and light, but who now stared at him with a murderous glint in her eye.

  “Who are you? What are you?” She bit the words out in a snarl.

  “Let me go,” Ryder said, calmly and succinctly.

  “Uh, Mel …?” Dave asked. “What are you doing?”

  “Who are you?” she repeated, and Ryder grimaced as the invisible bonds tightened, and the heat increased.

  “I’m Ryder Galen, miscreant dentist.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” he bit out. What the hell was wrong with Dave’s sister?

  “You come to my shop and ask about wolfsbane. I want to know who the hell I’m talking to.”

  “And I told you. My name is Ryder Galen and I’m a miscreant dent
ist.” He tightened the muscles in his arms to get some room to move—to breathe.

  “What the hell happened here?” Dave growled. Ryder looked over his shoulder, then gaped.

  Light from the torch revealed a blackened room, the walls and floor scorched and scarred. The damage done was extensive.

  Dave picked his way through the ashes and soot, kicking what looked like the leg of a table out of his way.

  Melissa stepped away from Ryder, her eyes narrowed. “This is what happened the last time someone wanted to talk about my stock of wolfsbane.” She folded her arms and glared at Ryder, then turned to her brother. “So why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on?” The moment she turned away, Ryder summoned his lightforce, using it like a hot blade against the witch’s magic. She cried out, stumbling, her hand to her head as he cut through her spell.

  She turned to him, arm raised, her face pale, but he held up his hands in a defensive manner. “No, don’t. I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m not going to let you bind me again.”

  “How did you do that?” she uttered the words breathlessly, rubbing at her temple, one hand still poised, ready for powerful combat.

  “Let’s just say you have your way of doing things, I have mine.”

  They stood there for a moment, each threatening to use power against the other, until Dave sighed.

  “If only I had a camera to snap this moment and show you both how ridiculous you look.” He brushed past Ryder. “Don’t even think about hurting my sister.” He held up a finger to his sister in warning. “Play nice, Mel.”

  Ryder slowly lowered his hands and the witch did the same, although her expression still showed her wariness. He turned about to properly look at the room, hoping she’d see that he was no threat to her.

  Melted glass dotted the floor, and what had once been metal shelving now hung in a mangled mess from the walls. Debris littered the room.

  “How long ago?” he asked quietly, walking further into the scene of destruction. The sulphuric stink was almost overwhelming.

 

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