by Debra Dunbar
“Look at me.”
He wanted to tell Cin to fuck off, but his feet moved without his brain’s permission. Jonathan turned. Cin’s expression caused the air to seize in his lungs. Cin slipped to his knees and pressed his face to Jonathan’s stomach. Jonathan’s anger fell away as he wrapped his arms around Cin’s head and held him there.
“Sometimes you believe I love you. Other times, you don’t feel it at all.”
Pain stabbed Jonathan through the chest at Cin’s claim. “That’s not true.” Even Jonathan heard the lie in his voice.
Cin ignored his claim. “Which is it today, Jonathan? Do you love me?”
His chest tightened at the vulnerability in Cin’s voice. “So fucking much,” Jonathan admitted without shame. Cin’s eyes fell closed at his answer, as if relief washed over him. It was moments like these that kept Jonathan from walking away. This man was badass. In fact, he wasn’t a man at all. Cin was a deadly beast, but here he was at Jonathan’s feet, surrendering himself. After Cin, no one else would ever be enough.
While holding Jonathan’s gaze, Cin loosened the button on Jonathan’s jeans. Goddamn. If Cin hadn’t already been on his knees, the images that fired to life in Jonathan’s head would’ve taken him down. Every time they touched, this man had Cin thanking the gods for bringing them together. Cin was more than happy to bring Jonathan’s fantasies to life. He set Jonathan’s erection free. Jonathan’s eyes lost focus. Cin bit back a smile. Hoping to drag out the man’s anticipation, Cin leaned in slowly before licking Jonathan’s crown. A moan slipped past his lips as Jonathan’s pre-cum coated Cin’s taste buds. Nothing tasted better than his man turned on. He’d plan to take his time and make Jonathan beg. It turned out he was the one who couldn’t withstand the torment. Jonathan’s dick beat at the back of Cin’s throat before he realized it would happen. The man’s pulse sounded ridiculously loud to Cin’s overloaded senses. He could smell the blood pulsing through Jonathan’s veins. Cin didn’t want to drink anything other than Jonathan’s cum. His erection hated him for ignoring it. In nearly seven hundred years, Cin had learned some patience. They’d have time for play later. Right now, nothing mattered as much as stealing Jonathan’s orgasm.
Jonathan’s muscles tensed. His heartbeat sounded louder than before. The scent of the man’s lust overwhelmed Cin, smelling like freaking heaven. When Jonathan’s orgasm finally hit, Cin felt more powerful than he had in years—like he could conquer the world. When Jonathan had begun walking down that road, intent on leaving him, Cin had glimpsed a horrible future, one devoid of Jonathan. He would never let that happen. At this moment, with the man’s juices filling Cin’s mouth, he knew he could make everything right. Jonathan hadn’t given up on them yet. He didn’t stop swirling his tongue around Jonathan’s cock until he’d licked the man clean. The way Jonathan’s fingers massaged Cin’s scalp had Cin ready to sweep the man into bed and hold him for the rest of the night.
The van is back. There’s something strange happening here.
Cin bit back an irritated sigh at Niall’s call for assistance. We’re on our way. Cin came to his feet and captured Jonathan’s mouth. As much as he hated it, he had to keep their kiss short. That was all it took to steal his heart all over again—the way Jonathan always did with every touch.
“I’m sorry, baby. I have to go. Niall needs us.” He helped straighten Jonathan’s clothes.
“It’s okay. Go do what you need to,” Jonathan said, even as he came in for another kiss.
Shit, guys. Seriously. Need you now.
Cin pulled away. “Goddamn it. Niall’s in trouble.”
Jonathan pushed him away. “Go.”
With a final glance over his shoulder, Cin did as told. After throwing open the bedroom door, Cin readjusted his clothes to ease the pressure on his dick and tried clearing his mind. It was hard with the image of Jonathan’s hurt expression still at the forefront of his brain. Cin had wiped the sadness from Jonathan’s eyes, but fuck. He hadn’t even unstrapped his guns before blowing his man. What kind of lover did something like that? Why did Jonathan want this life? Niall was right. Cin would get the man killed. Jonathan couldn’t understand that what they knew from over six hundred years of living, having his memories wiped was the humane thing to do. Life with Cin would be hard and dangerous. There would never come a day when Cin could retire. The only out for him was the final death, which brought with it a whole other list of reasons Jonathan couldn’t stay.
No way could Cin watch Jonathan die. That meant, eventually, turning the man. He loved the sexy reporter. There was no one he’d rather be tied to for eternity. But that was just it; Jonathan would be stuck with Cin. No way out. He wouldn’t be a full vampire. Jonathan wouldn’t be able to survive on drinking human blood. The only blood that would sustain him was vampire. Jonathan would literally starve to death without Cin or his clan. He didn’t know how to start that conversation. Cin loved Jonathan too much to condemn him to that life, but neither could he stay away.
His black mood and dark thoughts kept his brain busy as they traveled to the docks. During the day, he was forced to drive—his powers limited by the sun. The sun had fallen an hour ago, and his senses were at their highest. It was quicker to dissipate and reappear at different points. Each member landed at a separate location, surrounding the pack of demons. Cin put Jonathan out of his head. One demon on his own was dangerous enough. A pack, that was beyond deadly, and intriguing. Demons didn’t tend to work together.
We need to take at least one alive. There’s something verra odd about this.
Dougal was quick to agree. For real, I got a bad feeling in my gut.
The van Jonathan had captured on video sat parked at the end of the dock once more. A houseboat was tied to the wood, making an odd scraping noise with every lapping wave. Cin opened his senses, searching the thick brush for anything unnatural.
Niall.
No answer came to Cin’s mental call.
“Found him,” Faolan said, startling Cin with his sudden appearance. Cin followed on the giant vamp’s heels, ducking between trees until he spotted Niall’s still form on the ground. He was unconscious and bleeding but alive.
“What the fuck?”
A snarl was all the warning they got before the beach came to life. At least seven possessed humans appeared from the trees, falling on them like the beasts that now owned their bodies. There was no sense in sparing them from damage. The men’s souls had fled their vessels long ago. Any hint of soul left behind would’ve broken from the taint of evil. Cin pulled two guns from their holsters in one motion, firing at two demons, protecting Dougal as the other vamp helped Niall.
His arm is shredded. They have hounds somewhere.
With a mental nod, Cin split his attention between Dougal’s report and keeping them safe. Get him up and send him home. I’ll make sure we’re not followed.
Something was wrong. Jonathan could feel it in his bones. He’d been standing at the sink, intent on filling the coffeepot and settling in for a long night when a horrible sense of foreboding solidified in his chest. Jonathan kept his gaze carefully locked on the water pouring from the faucet. He wanted to reach out for Cin the way all the men spoke to each other. Since he couldn’t, Jonathan brought an image of Cin as he’d been earlier to mind. He pictured every detail from the tight-fitting t-shirt to the military-style boots. Jonathan hoped his efforts would bring about some mental connection. Perhaps Jonathan couldn’t reach out to Cin, but Cin could hear him. His skin tingled with awareness. Cin was coming. He could feel him. Jonathan was equal parts amazed and terrified. The sense of something horrible looming didn’t ease. Even knowing he was coming, Jonathan still startled when a warm weight pressed against his back. His heart sped with fear—not lust. It wasn’t Cin. Jonathan knew without having to look. This man was larger, imposing.
“Close your eyes, gorgeous.” Niall’s voice caressed Jonathan’s ear with each syllable. Jonathan did as the man said. Niall was darker than the res
t. He always watched Jonathan with something akin to hatred.
“I don’t hate you. Don’t open your eyes.”
The man’s arms encircled him. Water splashed. He could smell the bitter taint of copper. Did the water run red with blood from today’s victims? Would this man kill him? Jonathan kept his breathing steady by force of will alone.
“I have no intention of harming you.”
“Stay out of my head,” Jonathan said out of habit.
Niall’s hot breath brushed the shell of Jonathan’s ear. “Unlike Cin, I don’t have a choice. He can control it. I hear everything. All the time. It’s never quiet anywhere I go.”
Jonathan’s heart squeezed in his chest. That sounded like hell. He loved the quiet.
“You can open your eyes now.”
Jonathan’s lids lifted. His gaze dropped to the hands boxing him in against the counter. They were red from Niall scrubbing them. Splotches of blood still speckled the inside of the sink. Niall immediately rinsed them away.
“You’re too nice for this life,” Niall said. His tone sounded conversational, but Jonathan didn’t know how to feel. The man was obviously trying to protect him from the ugliness of the day. Yet he didn’t move away, making Jonathan wonder over his intentions.
“Where’s Cin?”
“Ensuring we weren’t followed. You know he’ll wipe your memories again, right? He loves you too much to let you stay.” Jonathan understood then. He was being held captive for Niall’s lecture. “I see everything inside your head and everything inside his. No one can shut me out. If you want to leave here with your memories intact, you’ll…” Niall paused. His weight increased against Jonathan’s back. As Jonathan looked on, a fresh trail of blood ran down Niall’s arm into the sink. He stared at the flow in confusion. Horror sank in. It had been Niall’s own blood he’d been washing away.
“Apologizes. Didn’t realize I was so weak.”
Jonathan spun in Niall’s hold. “Holy shit. You’re hurt.” He went hunting for wounds, but Niall pushed his hands away.
“Nay worry ov’r me,” Niall said, his brogue thickening in his weakness.
Jonathan couldn’t let this go. Instead of trying to tend to Niall’s wounds, Jonathan pulled the neck of his shirt down and turned his head, offering Niall his throat. “Take my blood, then.”
“Cin… “
“No one owns me,” Jonathan said, sounding more bitter than he intended. “Plus, you’re hurt. That takes priority.”
“He woul’ nay care. You’re his.”
A loud growl—like nothing Jonathan had ever heard before—rent the air, followed by gunfire. Jonathan jumped. Niall let out a string of curses Jonathan had never heard but knew were bad. Niall moved as if to push away. Jonathan snagged his shirt, stopping him.
“Take my blood first. You’re no good to anyone if you keel over.” Niall’s golden gaze met his. He felt the man’s hesitation. “It’s not like it’s sexual or anything. Just do it,” Jonathan said, exposing his neck once more.
Niall shifted closer. His hot breath brushed Jonathan’s skin before his mouth opened over Jonathan’s pulse. Goosebumps rose on Jonathan’s skin. Their bodies collided as Niall’s fangs pierced Jonathan’s skin. Jonathan made a terrible discovery. He’d been wrong. It was sexual. He’d always believed the way he felt when Cin took his blood was due to their relationship, but he’d never been more wrong about anything in his life. Niall’s hard cock dug into Jonathan’s hip. Jonathan tried holding still. The temptation to rub against the man like a cat was a real thing. His erection beat a pattern against the inside of his jeans, leaking and begging for relief. He hovered on the edge of orgasm, and if Niall didn’t stop soon, Jonathan feared coming in his jeans was a real possibility. Niall licked the puncture marks, sealing them. Jonathan thought he might have whimpered. It was out of his control. Their gazes met. Jonathan wondered if the vampire would kiss him. The back door flew open. Splintering wood flew in every direction. Niall leapt away from Jonathan, pulling his blade from his belt and placing himself between Jonathan and the demons pouring inside.
Without thought, Jonathan went for the butcher’s block, and grabbed the largest knife he could find. It never occurred to him he should run. This was his clan. They were in danger. His fear meant nothing in the face of that knowledge. He would fight. A red and yellow set of eyes locked on to him. Images so horrific that Jonathan almost hit his knees raced through his mind. Evil and sulfur coated the air, choking Jonathan. Terrifying screams of the long dead sounded in Jonathan’s ears. They were real, but they weren’t. It was an echo of past sins, consuming Jonathan. Four vampire warriors stood at his side, and still Jonathan’s knees tried buckling under the fear and mental torment. Those poor women never stood a chance. In a blinding moment of clarity, he understood everything—why Cin’s job was so much more important than their relationship, and how Jonathan would soon be dead. He saw his death as clearly as if it had happened already. Perhaps Dougal had been right after all. Jonathan had some form of extra-human ability of sight. As the thought passed through his head, a cool pressure touched his neck a half second before a sharp pain sliced through his throat, tearing away his ability to swallow or breathe. The floor rushed up to meet him. Shouts, growls, and gunfire continued around him. It all sounded as if coming from inside a long tunnel. Nothing felt real. There was a huge disconnect from reality that Jonathan couldn’t penetrate. Niall’s face appeared above him. The man looked so different than he had only minutes earlier when Jonathan had been so certain Niall was about to kiss him.
“Cin,” Niall yelled. “I need you to tell me what to do. Mercy or damnation?”
There was no air. Jonathan cupped his throat, choking. He didn’t feel the pain any longer, only the suffocating. The world turned hazy around the edges. Life was slipping away. He wanted Cin. Niall looked freaked. He’d never seen the man anything other than eerily calm. That was how Jonathan knew there was no hope. He was dead.
“Niall, do not let my man die,” Cin yelled, sounding winded.
The man hovering over him focused on Jonathan. Everything went calm. There still was no air, but the fear slipped away. Niall’s eyes glowed yellow for a moment. “Damnation it is,” Niall said in a quiet tone. The man’s hand rose to his mouth. His fangs extended, ripping open his wrist. Niall pushed Jonathan’s hands away from his slashed throat. Warmth dripped into the wound, reminding him of the pain he’d thought was gone. Niall glanced over his shoulder. “Cin, finish this. You know I cannot.”
Cin came into sight. He was covered in sweat and blood. “Switch,” he yelled. In a flash, Niall shot to his feet, taking over the man’s fight while Cin dropped to his knees next to Jonathan. His gaze moved over Jonathan. “Och, baby. I never wanted this for you, but I can’t let you die. Losing you would destroy me.”
He tried opening his mouth and telling Cin he didn’t want to die either, but no sound emerged.
Cin shook his head. “Don’t try to talk. I need you to do something. You won’t like it.” Just as Niall had, Cin used his fangs to rip open his wrist. Unlike Niall, Cin pressed his sliced wrist to Jonathan’s mouth. “You have to drink my blood, baby. If you don’t, you’ll die. If you do drink it, you also won’t be like me, but you will be trapped with me.”
Jonathan didn’t hesitate. Hot metallic liquid filled his mouth. He was too out of it to think about anything other than surviving. Not only did Jonathan like living, he wanted to be with Cin forever. He’d known all along that would mean—one day—he’d have to give up his humanity. Jonathan tried swallowing. Nothing happened. The panic in Cin’s expression said as much as the darkness crowding Jonathan’s vision. Now, not only did everything sound like he was in a tunnel, it looked like it too. He tried focusing on Cin’s gorgeous eyes. His vision wouldn’t clear. There was no fear or pain, only exhaustion. His lungs burned from lack of oxygen. When the darkness settled over him, carrying him away, all Jonathan felt any longer was relief.
Chapter 4
Jonathan glanced around at the shadows surrounding him. Niall appeared like smoke, taking the shape of a man before solidifying. Jonathan glanced down. He needed to know if he looked the same. Unlike Niall, his body was still solid but didn’t feel real—like being trapped in a dream. The last thing he remembered was struggling for air. That didn’t seem to be a problem any longer.
“Am I dead?”
Niall’s mouth lifted in one corner. “No.”
He glanced around again at his slightly less than clear surroundings. Nothing seemed to have a solid form, other than them. “Is this a dream?”
“Do you want it to be?”
Jonathan shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs. “I’m not sure.”
A full-blown smile exploded across Niall’s face. The breath caught at the back of Jonathan’s throat. He’d never seen Niall smile. It was mesmerizing. He had dimples. “Aye, well, if you’d like, you can tell yourself this was a dream when you open your eyes and rejoin the living.”
“So I am dreaming?” Jonathan asked again, trying to keep up.
Niall sighed. “How about you just listen for a few minutes?”
Jonathan nodded, at a loss as to what else he could do but obey.
Niall crossed his arms over his massive chest and rocked back on his heels, as if trying to decide where to start. Jonathan stood still, expecting anything. A part of him still suspected he might be dead and this was all part of his trip to the afterlife.
“We got interrupted the last time we spoke,” Niall said, taking Jonathan by surprise with his choice of topic. “You had questions you didn’t get to ask.”
“Did I?” So much had happened in such a short period of time, Jonathan couldn’t remember. Dying had wiped him clean.
