by Laura Hall
“I trust you,” I said weakly.
“I can smell your fear,” he growled.
“You’d never hurt me.”
Chains snapped taut. “Right now I am more beast than man, drained to the very limits. If you believe I would not suck you dry at first chance, you are a fool.”
My heart galloped, kicking into my throat. I swallowed hard. “Complete the bond. Let me worry about the rest.”
He cried out, a sound of acute fury. “I cannot protect you if you don’t let me! Damn you, Fiona!”
Calm drifted through me like fresh snowfall, pure and soothing. I pushed away from the wall, taking careful steps toward the origin of his voice.
“No,” he whispered.
I reached out and found his jaw, ice-cold and bristled with hair. Slowly, I straddled his legs and lowered myself, inch by inch, onto his lap. By the time I was seated, my teeth were chattering. He was freezing.
“I don’t know much about magic,” I said through numb lips, “but Mal once told me that the power of the mage is linked to the power of the mind, and that a spell is only as strong as the mage’s conviction. I don’t think you have to complete the bond, Connor. I think I can.” Framing his face with my hands, I said, “I trust you. You won’t hurt me. I am your compagno.”
There was a weighted silence, a universal pause. Then all at once, an indefinable sensation washed over me, like spectral gears rotating into place—a rightness like the sounds and smells of home after an absence of years.
Connor sighed, tension melting from his body.
“Hurry,” he whispered, then, “It’s done, Ian. Pull her back.”
Twenty
When Declan asked me what the bond felt like, as we ran toward the fired-up helicopter on the back lawn, I just shook my head. There were no words, at least not yet, to describe the feeling.
It wasn’t anything pronounced. No shared telepathy. No overwhelming desire to put on a maid’s outfit when I thought of Connor. In fact, it was damned close to my first guess. I felt him like a compass pin feels magnetic north. Bizarre, but there it was.
The wolves, vamps, and Alisande were already inside the helicopter. I squeezed in next to the Opal Mage, sparing her a glare before putting on the headphones handed to me. The steady whoomping of the overhead blades was replaced by the crackle of a communication line.
In the pilot seat beside Charles, Eve swiveled to face me. “Which direction?”
“North. Straight north.”
Jake slid the side door closed. “Ready.”
A second later, my stomach dropped out as we lifted from the ground.
Jake grinned at my expression. “First time?”
I nodded, grabbing Declan’s knee as the helicopter sashayed upward until we cleared all trees and power lines. We hovered momentarily, then, with a slight dip of the nose, sped north into the night.
Every few minutes, I consulted my internal Connor Compass and informed Eve of any necessary variations in the flight plan. Although my instructions consisted of, “A little to the left,” or, “Just a smidgen to the right,” she merely nodded, adjusting until I felt the line between Connor and us grow straight.
About an hour into the flight, Declan began rattling off various scenarios and orders to his wolves and the vamps. He wrapped up with, “Alisande, you’re going to stay glued to Fiona. Nothing and no one touches her, understood?”
The Opal nodded, while I blurted, “No way.”
Alisande’s sigh came clearly through the headset. “Regardless of the fact I would never hurt you, Fiona, I’m bound by a geas. If your life is in danger, I must protect it with my own.”
“Or what?” I asked skeptically.
The darkness of the helicopter’s interior disguised her expression, but not the milky flare of power in her eyes. “Or I will suffer whatever injury you suffer.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised—Adam was an Opal, after all—but I’d had no idea he hid that kind of savagery.
“Okay, then.”
The team kept talking. I tuned them out, focusing instead on the beacon that was Connor, and purposefully not thinking about what I’d done by solidifying the compagno bond. There’d be plenty of time later to deal with the consequences. Hopefully.
Preoccupied with Connor’s presence growing larger and larger in my mind, I almost didn’t notice when, forty-five minutes later, we flew right over him.
I jolted forward, yelling, “Stop!”
Declan’s arm shot out and pushed me back into the seat. “It’s not a car, sparky.”
Eve snapped, “Where is he?”
“There’s nothing but woods down there,” growled Charles. “There’s no way we can put her down.”
“I see something,” said Caleb, huge binoculars angled downward. “A small cabin. No visible heat signatures. Looks abandoned.” His head swiveled toward me. “Are you sure Connor’s here?”
The helicopter, which had been circling back, flew once more over Connor and I yelped, “There! He’s there!”
Caleb grunted. “It’s the cabin, all right.”
“Well, if there’s anyone down there, they know we’re here,” Declan said and began unbuckling our chest straps.
I had a sinking feeling I knew what was coming. “We’re jumping, aren’t we?”
He nodded, eyes flashing to Alisande. “She’s going to get us down safely. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course,” replied the Opal serenely.
I squinted distrustfully at her while Declan turned his attention to the cockpit. “Sorry Eve, looks like you won’t be coming to the party. Get us as close to the cabin as possible. Charles, we’ll see you on the ground.”
Eve nodded, then looked at her twin. “Go with God, brother. Bring vengeance in the name of our sire.”
Declan nudged my shoulder. “You up for this?”
I tore my wide eyes from the twins. “Absolutely. Definitely.”
He glanced down meaningfully at my fingers, which were glowing white and digging into his forearm. I peeled them off and clasped my hands in my lap.
He winked, then turned his attention to the team. “Charles, have you picked up any heartbeats down there?”
The vampire swiveled, dark eyes unblinking. “One. Mage or cipher. Too slow for a shifter.”
“One guard? Piece of freaking cake,” said Jake.
“Unless it’s a Liberati trap,” grumbled Caleb.
“Enough chit chat,” snapped Declan, and his wolves went stiff and ready. He flipped a handle on the sliding door and yanked, and suddenly it was very windy. All I could see of the world outside was darkness.
A blur streaked past us and out the door. I blinked at Charles’ empty seat.
“Holy shit,” whispered Jake.
Opal magic flared inside the helicopter. “Ready!” cried Alisande.
Declan grabbed me and we tumbled into wind and blackness. His arms stayed around me the whole way down, revealing his own doubts in Alisande.
Thankfully, there was no need for ducking and rolling. We landed lightly on our feet in a cleared space before a narrow, sagging porch. Moonlight barely breached the trees, granting more shadow than light to the dilapidated, single-story cabin.
Connor’s presence was bright—so very bright.
Fiona, come to me.
I jerked away from Declan and ran, shoving through the unlocked front door. There were two people seated in chairs in the barren room. Neither were Connor, and thus didn’t matter.
“Fiona!” cried Declan. “Stop!”
Someone grabbed me. Someone strong. I ripped the glove off my free arm and summoned lightning, snarling as I released a bolt. I saw Charles’ shocked expression for an instant before he blurred. My bolt hit the wall. Someone screamed. A woman, from the pitch.
I dropped to all fours and began clawing at the floorboards, searching for . . . There! A latch lifted and I yanked up a trapdoor. Behind me, the cabin was quiet.
“Connor summoned her,”
said Charles in a reedy voice. “It’s not—it shouldn’t be possible.”
As I raced down steep steps into a darkness even deeper than the one above, I heard Alisande cry out, “I can’t stop her. She’s immune to my spells!”
Fiona.
“I’m here,” I said, fumbling blindly across the cold, damp basement. “Connor? Connor!”
“Here.”
I fell into his arms, wrapping myself around him like a monkey. On some level, I knew my behavior was worrisome, but I was just so happy to be with him.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered. “I’m rescuing you.”
His lips curved against my cheek. “I’m sorry my call was so strong. I. . .” He swallowed audibly. “I have not had a compagno before. It seems the bond requires more finesse than I realized.”
I nuzzled my face into his neck, squeezing him even tighter. “They tried to stop me.”
Connor sighed. “I think they were trying to protect you, mo spréach. I’m famished and you smell very, very good.”
Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. “Connor,” said Declan softly. “Please don’t hurt her. It’s Fiona. You don’t want to hurt Fiona, do you?”
“No, Alpha, I don’t,” said Connor with thin amusement. “Bring me Caleb, Jake, and Alisande. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Neutralize the threat, then feed me the wolves while the Opal prevents me from killing them.”
Declan released a relieved laugh. “Glad you’re with us, boss. Area has been swept. We’re alone out here.” He cleared his throat. “Any idea what’s wrong with Fiona?”
There’s something wrong with me?
No, mo spréach.
Aloud, he said, “It’s nothing I’ll discuss right now.”
Declan didn’t miss a beat. “And I suppose you know who’s tied to a couple of chairs upstairs?”
Connor nodded shortly. “Bring me the wolves,” he said stiffly. “I can’t hold on much longer.”
Declan pivoted and ran back up the stairs. Lips trailed across my cheekbone to my ear, lifting goose bumps. I snuggled closer.
“Fiona, I need you to stand up and put your glove back on.”
“Of course,” I said, jumping to my feet and doing as he said. I made to move back to him, but he lifted a hand.
“Wait,” he murmured.
His rejection tore through me, making me gasp. “You don’t want me?” I whispered.
“Always misjudging me.” He sighed. Multiple footsteps sounded on the stairs. “I’m going to fix this, I promise. I pray that you’ll forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” I said immediately.
“Dios mío,” hissed Charles.
“Not a word,” snarled Connor. “Jake, come here.”
The werewolf went, offering himself to the Prime. As my Fae blood didn’t come with supernatural eyesight, I saw little of what transpired. But I could hear just fine.
The men were drained to near death and Alisande’s magic accelerated their blood regeneration. Within minutes, Connor’s aura was so thick and vibrant it was hard to breathe.
“Can you break the manacles?” asked Declan.
Metal groaned and clanked. “Not yet.”
“Can’t the mage do something?” asked Charles.
Alisande sniffed. “It’s alchemical magic treated with Connor’s ether. I cannot combat it.”
“In Snoqualmie, didn’t . . .” Declan trailed off.
There was a long pause, then: “Fiona.” Connor’s voice tugged me forward, away from the wall and straight into his arms. He was standing now, tall and vital, his skin warm from the consumption of blood. “I need you to use your lightning to break my chains.”
Ashamed at my handicap, I whispered, “I can’t see them.”
Sparkling white light filled the room. “Better?” asked Alisande.
I nodded and stepped back to examine the thick manacles around Connor’s wrists and ankles. Then I pulled off my gloves.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” murmured Charles.
I looked questioningly at Connor. Eyes steady on mine, he said, “I trust you.”
A warm glow suffused my chest. I clenched my fingers, pulling a thick charge into my hands, then slapped my palms to the first manacle. The metal cracked and the smell of ozone tainted the air. I repeated the technique on his left wrist and both ankles.
Feeling extremely proud of myself, I grinned up at Connor. “Told you I’d rescue you.”
He palmed my cheek. “Yes, you did.” He looked over my head at Declan. “The cipher and the vampire. Both are alive?”
“Yes,” said the Alpha, his voice uncertain. “What’s the deal with the two of them? And why does the vamp look like—”
“It’s her,” said Connor. “Gabriella.”
His gaze met mine for an instant before he vanished.
The six of us filed quickly up the basement stairs to the main room, just in time to see Connor lift his mouth from James Frankfurt’s neck. The cipher’s head lolled back, exposing darkness where his throat had been.
“Connor?” whimpered Gabriella. “Oh God, thank God.”
He was at her side in an instant, divesting her of the heavy chains around her chest and legs. “Oui, chéri. Je suis ici. Vous êtes en sécurité. Je ne laisserai rien te arriver jamais. Pardonnez-moi, Gabby. Pardonnez-moi.”
In that moment, I very much regretted taking French in college instead of the recommended Spanish. Because Connor’s words were clear and devastating.
Yes, darling. I’m here. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you ever again. Forgive me, Gabby. Forgive me.
Sudden dizziness struck me and I reeled, reaching blindly for support. Alisande was closest, but grabbed for me too late. My knees buckled. I hit the floor with an undignified, “Oomph.”
“Fiona!” yelled Declan.
Alisande crouched before me, her expression of sympathy overwhelming.
Darling. Forgive me.
Need Connor. Want Connor.
Gabriella.
ConnorConnorConnor.
“I don’t feel well,” I mumbled.
The Opal snapped, “Prime Thorne, get over here right now and put this woman to sleep. And pray the damage you’ve done can be mended.”
My eyelids slid closed. “Connor, yes . . .”
Fingertips grazed my forehead. “Sleep,” he said.
I obeyed.
Twenty-One
Even before I opened my eyes, I knew where I was. His scent permeated the silk sheets and the pillow beneath my head. It was too bad Connor Thorne’s bed was the last place on Earth I wanted to be. Well, second to an electric chair.
“She’s awake,” said an unfamiliar woman. “Did you sense it?”
“Yes,” said an unwelcome voice. “She doesn’t want to see me.”
“Of course she doesn’t,” snapped the woman. “You took away her free will.”
“Enough, Janelle,” he said, softly but with a thread of steel. “I made a grievous error. Let me remind you I was drained nearly dry at the time.”
“You weren’t drained when you—”
Connor’s aura pulsed angrily, silencing the woman. “We’re not having this argument again.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Then make yourself useful and fetch her father and uncle. They’ve been extremely worried.”
A moment later, Connor’s aura was gone.
I opened my eyes, my vision confirming what I’d already suspected. There was only one Janelle who would speak to Connor like that, and whose aura was like a steady, icy wind.
The Midwestern Prime.
“Hello, Fiona. It’s lovely to meet you.”
She looked exactly like she did on television. A vampiric cross between Jessica Rabbit and a high-powered executive in a tailored pantsuit, with eyes so dark it was like looking into midnight pools. Only her voice was different, possessed of a soft lilt instead of its usual crisp, autocratic tones.
I pulled myself up against the pillows. �
�Hello, Prime Olivier.”
She smiled, displaying dainty, sharp canines. “Janelle, please.”
I nodded. “I’m assuming I have you to thank for breaking the compagno bond?”
Her smile vanished. “Oh, no. There’s no breaking the bond. I merely showed Connor how to erase the effects of his disastrous call.”
I swallowed hard and looked away, out a nearby window. It was raining hard, blurring the view of the forest.
“Renfield’s syndrome is real,” I said, mostly to myself. “I was a slave.”
Janelle hummed in agreement. “Most legends begin with truth, do they not? For all his age and wisdom, our Connor had no idea that less is more when it comes to compagnos.” She paused. “You must know he didn’t intend you harm.”
Ire flashed through me and my gloves flared white. The Prime cocked her head to the side, ruby curls shifting like a bloody waterfall. “Fascinating,” she said, flashing me an engaging smile.
“I take it you’ve had compagnos,” I said flatly.
Her smile faltered and died. “Yes. Several in my lifetime.”
“Several? But . . .” At the sorrowful expression on her face, I shut my flapping mouth.
“Compagnos are not vampires,” she said in a low tone. “They are human. Weak. Accidents happen, as do enemies.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it.
The Prime shook her head lightly. “No, I should be apologizing. Your father and uncle will be here momentarily, and I must tell you about the bond.”
Like how to break it?
Her immediate frown told me she’d heard my thought. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m listening.”
“First of all, I know why Connor began the bond, and why you completed it. You saved each other’s lives in turn. It was honorable on both your parts, but also unfortunate. The bond is meant to be one of love and trust between partners.” At my blank look, she said, “Lovers, Fiona. Not only are you and Connor not lovers, neither of you seems at peace with your feelings for the other.”
“What feelings?” I scoffed. Janelle narrowed her gaze. I withered accordingly. “He loves Gabriella.”
