by Larissa Ione
“Come to the hospital.” The black leather of Shade’s jacket creaked as he folded his arms across his chest, and Con knew this argument was a losing one. But his stubborn self couldn’t cave in that easily.
“I can’t.”
“You let Sin warm up to you, and then you smashed her under your boot.” Shade’s already deep voice dropped an octave. “The least you can do is get yourself clean. And, buddy, I told you, kick the habit so you aren’t a danger to Sin, or we’ll put you in the ground.”
Fair enough, and no less than what Con deserved. “The detox… it’ll be ugly. You’ll have to keep me caged or bound.”
“I’m pretty much an expert at that.” There was a glint of wry amusement in Shade’s eyes as he gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Sin needed sex.
The need wasn’t so bad yet that it hurt, but it wouldn’t be long before the cramps, sweats, and nausea hit her. She’d put it off because the idea of being with anyone other than Con made her sick.
It made her cry, too, but she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. Not even Lore.
She’d spent the night at his place, the North Carolina shack he rarely used anymore now that he lived in Italy with Idess. Thankfully, he’d stayed away, even though he probably knew she’d been there. Still, he and the other three brothers had tried to call her about every fifteen minutes, and she finally had to shut off her phone just to keep her sanity. This morning when she’d checked her messages, she’d found forty.
She’d deleted them all without listening. But the text message she’d just gotten from Shade as she sat at the bar in a demon club made her heart stall. Apparently, Con was at UG, and it would be best if she stayed away.
No problem. Being felt up by the handsome, crimson-skinned Sora demon behind her was what she wanted to be doing anyway.
Her heart knocked on her rib cage, calling her a liar.
The Sora’s strong hands gripped her hips, his broad chest blanketed her back, and the bulge in his jeans was an insistent prod on her ass. Not long ago, she’d have responded, would have had him in the bathroom or on the dance floor, making use of his multitalented tail by now. Instead, all she could think about was Con.
“Bastard,” she snarled into her beer mug.
“That’s not a nice thing to say to the male who is going to make you scream his name,” he said, as he nuzzled her neck. His teeth clinked against the chain around her throat, and she swore she felt it tighten.
She drained her beer as his hand slipped under her leather skirt, his fingertips brushing the silky material of her underwear.
Pain streaked through her, radiating from the male’s hand all the way to her organs, which suddenly felt like they were shifting, rearranging, tying themselves into knots. Gasping, she leaped off the bar stool and dashed outside, where the unique, moldy smell of Bangkok made her stomach rebel on the cobblestone walk. What the hell was going on with her?
Taking great gulps of polluted air, she sagged against the side of the building, which housed an underground prostitution and drug parlor in the front, and the demon dance club in the back. The sounds of the raunchy nightlife drowned out the throbbing pulse in Sin’s ears; it was four a.m., and this section of the city was still alive. Every vice, every fetish, no matter how illegal and disgusting, could be satisfied in Bangkok, and the universal truth remained in effect here: wickedness preferred the cover of darkness.
As the nausea waned, Sin’s needs came back front and center, an aching, shivery presence. She’d never hated what she was more than right now. Before Con, her body had been a tool, something as impersonal as a hammer. Now it felt like hers, like she finally owned it, controlled it, and the idea of sharing it with anyone but Con…
Fuck. Get over yourself. She brushed by the bouncer at the door and strode directly into the crowd of people writhing on the dance floor. Seizure-inducing lights flashed to the techno-pop beat of the music as Sin eased against a large male Bedim. They were a sensual, dark-skinned race whose young males were forced out of their community for ten years to experience life outside. Upon returning, they would be given a harem of females, but until then, they had to find pleasure elsewhere.
He turned into her, his masculine smile something that should have started her engines. Her body was full of need, but as he smoothed his palms down her bare arms, only cold shivers followed.
“Touch me,” she growled, and he grinned, moved his hands to her breasts.
Instantly, her stomach rebelled again, and she tore away from him, panting, praying she wouldn’t lose the rest of her liquid dinner all over the dance floor. Quickly, she grabbed another male and swung him around. She palmed his groin… and lost it. Totally blew chunks on his spandex zebra tights. Which, really, needed to be put out of their misery, because hello, the ’80s were long gone.
Humiliation rocked her, and she stumbled out of the bar. Her lust hadn’t eased, and neither had the want for Con. Had he bonded with her after all?
A horrible thought spun up. When male Sems bonded to a female, they couldn’t so much as get it up for any female other than their mate. What if female Sems went through something similar? Something that would make her unable to ever sleep with another male?
Head swimming with the horrific possibilities, she hopped a Harrowgate to UG.
When she stepped out, she saw Tayla speaking with Serena, who was holding a squirming Stewie in her arms. Knowing at least one of her brothers would be nearby, Sin looked around and, sure enough, Eidolon, dressed in his usual green scrubs, emerged from one of the exam rooms.
Sin marched up to him. “Where is Con?”
Eidolon handed a chart to a nurse. “He’s detoxing. You can’t see him.”
“I don’t care if he’s dancing ballet in the cafeteria. I need him.”
“Sin, you can’t. You’ll only set him back—”
“I don’t care!” She was practically shouting now, and her sisters-in-law were moving toward them. Dammit. She didn’t need more witnesses to her weakness and embarrassment. She’d find Con on her own. She shoved past her brother but he grabbed her arm and swung her back around.
“I won’t let you near him.”
“Then you can watch me die.” She broke away from him, unable to bear his touch, not because it made her ill, but because she couldn’t deal with affection right now.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Remember when I said Con tried to bond with me? Well, it looks like he didn’t just try. He did.”
For a moment, Eidolon stood there, frowning, and then his eyes shot wide. “So you can’t…”
“No, I can’t.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly. Now where is he?”
Twenty-five
Con hadn’t expected to be housed in a room decked out like a Hilton hotel suite or anything, but he had figured the Sem boys would at least provide him with heat.
Not so much.
Apparently, ice-cold temperatures helped hasten blood addiction detox. How, Con didn’t know, but he half-suspected the boys were torturing him, and it was working. He was freezing his ass off. Well, he froze when he wasn’t sweating out a fever.
Shivering in the scrubs E had thrown at him, he paced back and forth in the room, where all the furniture except a bed had been removed. He was chained to the floor with a manacle around his ankle that allowed him to move around—but only during the short periods of lucidity, like the one he was experiencing now. Usually, he was a violent, pissed-off animal, and when he felt the starvation begin to ride him again, he’d hit a call button, and one of the brothers, along with several orderlies, would chain him to the bed, sedate him, and jam a feeding tube down his throat.
The human blood they forced into his stomach was keeping him alive, even though most of it came back up.
Fuck, he was miserable. He’d looked in the bathroom mirror, had barely recognized the gaunt face or the hollow eyes stari
ng back at him. He was so weakened that after only a couple of minutes of pacing he’d have to rest, but then, his periods of noncrazy lasted only about five minutes, anyway.
He glanced at his watch. In about ninety seconds, he’d slide back into insanity, where nothing but hunger, violence, and Sin existed.
Sin.
He ached for her. His entire body felt bruised, and the center of his chest stung, telling him his yearning was more than physical. He missed her, couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid little things, like how she smiled. How she ate. How her voice went low and smoky when he touched her. Holy hell, he would give anything to be with her like a normal person.
But that would never happen, and he was the world’s biggest dumbass to even fantasize about it. The best he could hope for was to get clean and spend the rest of his life ruling the dhampire clan. Participating in the mating rituals with females he probably wouldn’t even like.
The door swung open, and Eidolon strode in. “Get on the bed.”
It was a little early, but Con didn’t have the energy to argue. He lay stiffly as Eidolon strapped him down… extra tight.
Con glared. “What, is circulation in my extremities an option now?”
Eidolon tugged hard on the leather strap that crossed over his chest. “Sin’s here to see you.”
“What?” Con’s voice was strangled, and it had nothing to do with the final strap Eidolon was tightening over his neck. “No! You can’t let her—”
“Too late.” Sin swept into the room the way she always did, like a storm cloud that stirred up everything and everyone around it. She was wrapped like a gift in black leather, from her zip-front, sleeveless corset and matching miniskirt to the sleek boots that came up to her knees, revealing a toned expanse of thigh he remembered touching. Kissing. Remembered those legs wrapping around his waist and resting on either side of his head.
Fever swamped him, his fangs sliced out of his gums, his vision trained on her like a laser sight, and his entire body strained against the bonds. “Get out.”
Eidolon complied, even though he wasn’t the intended recipient of Con’s order. He did, however, shoot Con a deadly look of warning before he closed the door behind him.
“Wow,” Sin said, her high-heeled boots clacking on the floor as she approached. “I didn’t expect a party or anything, but I figured you might be able to handle a hi.”
“I’m serious,” he gritted. “Get out.”
“Well, you know what?” She tied her hair up in a knot. “I would, except that you fucking bonded me to you or something, and I need to borrow your dick for a minute.”
His cock jumped excitedly at her news, but Con frowned. “I couldn’t have bonded with you. The addiction would be gone.”
“Yeah? Then explain to me why touching other guys makes me hurl?”
Touch? Other guys? He knew she’d have to, but to hear her say it, to know she’d tried… A terrible pressure condensed in his chest cavity and his skull, and then he heard some sort of monster in the room—
“Hey.” He blinked at the sharp sting in his cheek, saw Sin standing beside him, palm open and ready to strike again. “That enraged snarling and trying to break out of your bindings is not attractive.” She reached for the waistband of the scrub bottoms. He was already hard, painfully so, and okay, now he realized why Eidolon had left the hip strap unfastened.
“I’m sorry,” he said, instinctively trying to raise his hips to help her tug his pants down, but Eidolon had left the leg and waist bindings too tight for any movement. “I want to sink my teeth into your throat and drink until you scream for me to stop…”
Had he just said that? Fan-fucking-tastic. Looked like he was in for brief periods of clarity followed by fun moments of murderous insanity.
Sin cocked a dark eyebrow at him. “You really know how to charm a girl.” Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, she turned back to his hips, where his cock was now free, the waistband of his scrubs sitting uncomfortably snug just beneath his balls. For some reason she seemed hesitant to touch him.
“What…” He swallowed, teeth clenched, because he was in a moment of nonhomicidal existence, and he wanted to stay there. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head briskly and then gripped his shaft. The feel of her warm, soft palm on him made him moan, and her relieved smile made him do it again.
“Now, Sin,” he whispered. “Before I lose control again.”
Sin didn’t argue. She stepped out of her panties, careful to not let them catch on her two thigh holsters, hiked up her skirt, and climbed onto the bed. Straddling his hips, she guided him inside her.
Oh, yeah… she was warm and wet, and her body was so made for this. Made for him.
“Sin…”
“Shh.” She threw her head back and rode him. “I can’t… listen to your voice. Not now.” With every glide of her sex along his shaft, her boots rasped against his hips. He wanted to touch her, to take fistfuls of her blue-black locks and hold her for his kiss, his bite.
He howled in frustration, his fingers curled into his palms so hard it hurt. But the pleasure built, the waves of it growing larger and crashing into him faster as she rocked on top of him. She slapped her hands on his chest, digging in with her nails, clinging to him as little mewls erupted from her parted lips.
This was good, so freaking good. He strained, trying to pump his hips, match her rhythm. His fingers stretched, but all he could reach was the hilt of one of her daggers. If he could get it, he could cut himself free. Then he could have her the way he wanted to—
“Please,” she gasped. “Come.”
His body obeyed, a slave to her desire. His climax was so fiery hot that his pleasure was almost pain. Sin cried out, her body arched, a long, graceful work of art. As the orgasm—actually, he thought she had three or four—waned, she shuddered and collapsed onto his chest. Inside, his heart went wild, as though it could get to her. But deeper, something more sinister awakened, the need to sink his teeth into her and drain every last drop of blood. If she inched up, just a little more, she’d be in range of his mouth—
“Con?”
“Hmm?” Just a little more—
“What are we going to do?”
Do? He was going to taste her… That’s what he was going to do. Sin swallowed hard enough for him to hear. He’d swallow, too, big, satin gulps… Stop it!
“Con? Is there any way out of this bond?”
Bond. Bond. Shit! Shocked out of his evil thoughts, he sucked in a sharp breath. Regret and pain and about a million other emotions twisted through him. They were truly fucked. His cock twitched inside her heat, as though adding on a silent, literally. She needed sex and could get it only from him, but he was blood addicted and would kill her if he wasn’t chained. They were in for a lifetime of, well… this.
And that was assuming his clan didn’t hunt her down and kill her.
“No,” he croaked.
She raised her head, her black eyes liquid. “So for the rest of my life, I’m basically as chained to you as I am to—” She broke off, but at the same moment, he noticed the collar around her neck. It was a warg collar, developed by the same demons who originally bred Feast wargs.
“What. The. Fuck?” His voice was so dark, so warped that he could barely understand it himself, and Sin sat up quickly. “Who enslaved you?”
Her fingers flew up to touch the collar, and then she jerked them back and scrambled off him. “It’s just a dog collar. Current fashion.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” he roared. He was going to kill the fucker. Whoever it was, he was dead. Except, Con couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t even feed the bastard his own teeth, because whatever he did to the master, the pain would be felt by Sin.
Sin slipped on her underwear. “Con, it’s okay.”
“Bull-fucking-shit, it’s okay!” God, he wanted to spill some blood, and it was actually a relief that it wasn’t Sin’s he wanted to spill. “Tell me.”
Sin avoided eye contact as she tugged his scrub bottoms up. “Raynor.”
“How?” Con asked between clenched teeth. “How did he get you?” With her hatred and fear of slavery, there was no way she’d sign up for a life of ownership for anything less than the threat of death.
But she didn’t fear her own death… so she was protecting someone.
“Who did he threaten to kill, Sin? One of your brothers? Tell me. Now.” Misery clouded her eyes as she finally turned to him, and his gut wrenched. “Me? Is it me?”
“Sable,” she whispered. “Sable and her child. Maybe you as a bonus. Raynor knows. You should also know that the person who blew up your house and tried to kill me is a born warg named Lycus. I just don’t know why he wanted me dead like that.”
“Valko.” He let out a long, vile string of curses in several languages. “I’d bet my life that Valko put him up to it. He wanted you dead so you couldn’t help find a cure for the disease.”
Soul-destroying anger turned his blood to acid and corroded most of what was left of his lucidity. He’d been betrayed by the Warg Council, his family was in danger, and Sin, who had finally, after a hundred years, escaped the bonds of one monster, was now bound to two. The rage mounted, and along with it, the need to feed, and his gaze zeroed in on Sin’s throat.
This had to end, and while he wasn’t sure how to get Sin out of the bond with Ray, he knew exactly how to get her out of the one that tethered her to him. Because he’d lied. There was a way out. His fingers stroked the dagger he’d worked out of her sheath and slipped beneath his leg. Before he fell completely into the black hole of bloodlust, he growled, “Get Eidolon. And Luc.”
She nodded, making the ends of her ponytail swish against the neck tattoo he always wanted to lick. He panted, breathed through the madness that was suffocating him. He couldn’t let her leave without letting her know…
“Sin, I… shit…” He breathed hard, sucked in three massive lungfuls of air, and then stopped breathing when her fingers closed around his.
“What is it?”
