“Please tell me your farm isn’t like that.” Karsten feared he’d gone from the frying pan into the fire when neither man spoke.
Chapter 7
McBride ate everything on his plate even though he wasn’t hungry. What he wanted was blood, but not from Bailey’s neck. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not that thirsty.”
“But Caleb ordered me to feed you.” Bailey knelt beside McBride’s bed. “He said I shouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“Really?” Just how big had Caleb’s britches gotten? “One little taste of power certainly went right to his head, now didn’t it?”
“I suppose.” Bailey looked down. “But Jonas said I should do what he asked of me, too.”
McBride rolled his eyes. Now everyone was going to start thinking they knew what was best for him. In under a day he’d gone from undisputed ruler of the roost to an easily pushed around invalid. To keep the peace, and to waylay Caleb into thinking he was docile, McBride patted the bed. “Come on up here.”
Dutifully, Bailey climbed onto the mattress. “Where do you want me?”
“On your side, in front of me.”
Once Bailey was in position, McBride pressed close from behind. He rubbed the scar on Bailey’s neck, feeling a surge of power when he whimpered softly. Even in illness, he still had a certain measure of control.
“How are things with Ferris?” McBride lightened his touches on the scar so Bailey could think clearly enough to answer.
“Fine, sir. Thank you again for such a generous gift. He’s…he’s everything to me.” Bailey’s voice was almost tragically beautiful. Whenever he spoke of his mate or looked at him, Bailey appeared to be on the verge of ascending into heaven.
McBride felt a confusing mix of pride and jealousy. He was proud of the fact he’d found one of his slammers such a perfect mate, but he was envious of them, too. More than anything, he wanted to have someone who made him go all dreamy in the eyes and turned his voice into a reverent whisper.
“Are you going to feed, sir?” Bailey was lying still, waiting patiently while McBride dithered mentally.
“I will when I’m ready.” McBride realized it was petty for him to assert his dominance over the tender-hearted Bailey of all people. The only time Bailey had shown any kind of resistance to McBride’s rule was when he wanted his mate to stay home while he worked. One harsh word had made Bailey submit. “Forgive me for my shortness with you.”
“It’s okay. I know things have been difficult.” Bailey closed his eyes and sighed. “And I must admit that the chance to lie here and rest is welcomed.”
“I would ask a favor of you.” McBride left off touching the scar.
“Anything.”
“Lie here with me for a while?”
“I would be honored.” Bailey snuggled in.
McBride pulled his pillow into a more comfortable position, put his arm around Bailey, and promptly fell asleep. He was wrenched awake from dreamless slumber by a bellow of indignation. His brain didn’t make sense of what was said, but as soon as he cracked an eye open, he had a pretty good idea it wasn’t something pleasant given the look on Caleb’s face.
“I’m out dealing with the potential inoculation of this farm with a deadly virus and you’re in here snuggled up to my brother?” Caleb reached for Bailey, but McBride tightened his grip on him. He did this not because he wanted to keep Bailey in his arms, but more so he could annoy Caleb. Pissing him off seemed to put him right back in his place.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Bailey said. “He was tired after feeding and he fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake him, so I stayed here and I guess I fell asleep, too.”
A flush of embarrassment at having Bailey lie to protect him made McBride cringe, but only inside. He wasn’t about to let Caleb in on the truth. Instead, he kissed the scar on Bailey’s neck, eliciting a shiver, then released him. “Thank you for understanding, Bailey. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” Bailey rose and made a face behind Caleb’s back.
“Get back to work.” Caleb practically shoved his brother out the door then slammed it shut and locked it.
Stretching luxuriously, McBride smacked his lips a half dozen times, and then said, “I’ve forgotten how sweet his blood is.”
Caleb snarled and pounced, landing on the bed a few inches away from McBride. “I wanted you to feed, not—not—do whatever you were doing!”
“I told you I only wanted to feed from you, but it was your bright idea to force Bailey on me. Don’t get mad at me that you got your way.” McBride arched his brow.
Caleb glared down at McBride, and then he slung his leg over him, straddling McBride’s hips.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m trusting my instincts, which are screaming at me not to trust you.”
McBride bristled and struggled to rise, but Caleb reached out, grasped his shoulders, and held him pinned to the bed. A surge of lust and longing rose up, but McBride forced it away. Once he held him motionless, Caleb leaned over and took a deep sniff of McBride’s face. Afterward, he pulled back, a big smile gracing his harsh features.
“You didn’t feed.”
“I did.”
“Liar.” Caleb seemed to suddenly realize where he was. Tauntingly, he rocked his hips, making McBride’s prick hard after two swipes. But in his desire to torment him, Caleb also aroused himself. His tight shorts did little to hide his rapidly growing cock.
How was it he could be so ill yet still so easily aroused? McBride grasped that it wasn’t just about having his prick stimulated. If that were the case, Bailey snuggling his butt against him would have set him off, but he’d remained soft. He’d only wanted Bailey to be there to comfort him, nothing more. But Caleb, ah, with him it was totally different. Caleb turned the sweet sinful. One twist of his lips, a little rock of his hips, and McBride was utterly ensnared. But two could play at that game. Reaching up, McBride possessively stroked the scar—the only scar—on Caleb’s neck.
Caleb jerked back, trying to get out of McBride’s reach, but he couldn’t hold his straddled position if he did.
“Let me feed.”
“Not from me.”
McBride kept right on teasing the scar, loving the way Caleb valiantly tried to resist. In the end, he failed. Caleb closed the distance between them, offering up his neck for McBride’s bite. Just as he was on the verge of sinking his teeth deep, Caleb yanked back and practically catapulted himself off the bed.
“No, no, no.” Shaking all over, Caleb slapped a hand to his neck and shook his head hard enough to spill his long black hair all over his shoulders. No matter what he was feeling—anger, happiness, sadness—Caleb was utterly stunning.
“What’s wrong with you? I just wanted to feed, which is exactly what you wanted me to do.”
“I do. I did.” Caleb winced his eyes closed. “But not from me.”
“Why not?” McBride’s canines were now fully extended and more itchy than they ever had been. Besides that torment, his cock was aching and he wanted release. He was looking right at the man who could give him both.
“Because I was near that sick thrall.”
“What sick thrall?” McBride sat up so fast he made all the layers of bedclothes fluff up and then slowly settle down until they pressed against him. “One of your brother’s mates is sick?” The mere thought put the fear of the almighty in McBride’s heart, especially when he thought he might have inadvertently spread his mysterious disease to someone else. “Please tell me I haven’t infected anyone else.”
“Not you.” Caleb moved back another step. He looked behind him, found the chair that was tucked under the vanity, pulled it away, turned it around, and spread his legs wide as he sat in it backward. When he draped his arms over the back of the chair, McBride almost creamed. It was a very masculine, powerful gesture that clearly defined the line between them but also gave McBride tantalizing glimpses of his body. With his legs parted, McBride
could almost see up his shorts.
“Devon went out to investigate and found a thrall badly hurt and chained up to a board. He—ah.” Caleb shook his head. “He fancies himself in love with the boy, but I don’t trust that he wasn’t exposed to some illness.”
“Wait.” McBride lifted his hand. “Start over at the beginning and go slowly.”
Caleb told him about Devon and Karsten, how he didn’t believe what the boy had said, but once Devon practically rubbed himself all over the thrall, Caleb had no choice but to bring them back and quarantine them in Devon’s house.
“I wanted to just kill him, but Devon made that—”
“Zooks, Caleb. Kill him? You make it sound like you’re thinking about slaughtering one of the pigs.”
“I’m not.” Caleb’s expression hardened. “I thought he was ill. Better the loss of one man than everyone on this farm.”
There was silence between them.
“Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.”
McBride considered. As much as he wanted to be kindhearted and welcoming, he realized Caleb was right. He would have freed him, given him water—all while wearing a biomask—but he would have sent him on his way.
“The only reason I didn’t kill him or tell him to move along was that Devon was exposed, too.”
“And there was no way you were going to make that call against your brother.”
Caleb shook his head. “Devon knows me a little too well.”
“You really—” McBride cut himself off. He saw Caleb’s fierce love of his brothers as one of his most stellar qualities. Sadly, it was the only thing that was standing in the way of them having a full-blown relationship. “I’m proud of you.”
“Are you?” Caleb chuckled lightly. “It sure doesn’t seem that way to me.”
“I’m ill and a little slower than normal.” McBride smiled. “You’re doing a good job of running things in my stead.”
Caleb nodded and then looked down at the floor. “He said it’s total chaos in town.”
“I imagine so.” McBride had gotten too many calls to handle. So many, in fact, that they had crashed the communication system. The last call that came through was from Quintus. “Did I tell you that Quintus, my crimetech, is coming out?”
“You did. But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I hear you. But I made the offer and I can’t rescind it now. Put him up in Ollie’s house.”
Caleb’s fists tightened on the back of the chair.
“You have no poker face, you know that?” McBride laughed lightly. “Everything you feel shows.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were impressed by Jonas.”
“I was not.” Caleb made a face.
“Jonas stepped in front of Ollie to protect him from you. I saw your face, Caleb. Your eyes widened, and for a brief moment, you were surprised and impressed.”
Caleb tried to deny the truth, but he wasn’t very persuasive.
“Jonas wanted to protect Ollie because he loves him.” Softening his voice, McBride added, “Just like you are trying to protect me now.”
Their gazes met and held. Heat flowed between them, burning McBride because there was no release forthcoming. He remembered Caleb promising him one, but given the circumstances, he didn’t feel comfortable reminding him.
“It’s not about protecting you. It’s about protecting me.” Caleb rose. “I’m going to have someone else come and—”
“No, you won’t. Just like your brother, I don’t care if you’re infected. I want to feed.”
“No.” But Caleb was clearly wavering. “I can’t—I can’t be close to you anymore if I’m going to leave.”
“I’m not going to let you go.”
Caleb made a point of raking his gaze up and down McBride’s supine body. “You can’t stop me.”
“Physically? No. But I don’t think you really can go.” There was a link between them. It was light and tentative, but it was still there. “When you drank from me, you sealed your fate.”
“It wasn’t enough to form a bloodbond.” But Caleb didn’t sound as sure as he was trying to project.
“It was. And you know it.” McBride traced his fingers over the raised pattern on the bedspread. Caleb’s dangerous green gaze tracked the movement, and his body responded as if McBride were touching him directly. “You and I belong together.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not arguing this with you.”
“Then go.” McBride kept right on fondling the bedding, loving the way Caleb would yank his gaze away only to slowly bring it back.
“In town, slammers turned on their gentrymen.”
“Did they?” McBride intensified his strokes, watching as Caleb stiffened his spine.
“They threw them in the stocks and took turns fucking them.”
“Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
Caleb’s guilty gaze jumped to McBride’s face. He looked mortified by the very idea, but then his gaze narrowed and he put on his indifferent mask. “I wouldn’t mind tossing you in the stocks, but there wouldn’t be any turns. I’d keep you all to myself.”
“Greedy, are you?”
“Where you’re concerned, very.”
“You see?” McBride grinned because he’d managed to get Caleb to make his point. “You really won’t be able to walk away, Caleb. You might go, and you might do well for yourself out there in the changed world, but you will never, ever, be completely free of me.”
Chapter 8
“I know it seems a bit overwhelming, but I think it’s the best way to get started.” Devon held up the leather cutter again. He was sitting at his kitchen table across from Karsten with the bright afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window. It would be a beautiful day if not for all the tragedy. “I swear, I won’t try anything.”
Karsten nodded and then winced, lifting his hand to his throat.
“I know what it means for a thrall to go without a collar, but we can’t start healing you until we get yours off.” The ride back to his home had been uneventful and silent after Karsten wondered if their farm was as lawless as the town of Woven Spire. Neither Devon nor Caleb had offered out an answer when their master was down and Caleb was giving orders at his master’s mate’s request. Devon didn’t want Karsten to worry about a situation that was perfectly fine. Caleb was running things temporarily. Soon, McBride would be back on his feet, and he would take the reins of the farm with his usual firm hand and open mind.
“I don’t want it off.” Karsten reached up and probably would have held on to the battered piece of pink leather, but he couldn’t without hurting himself.
“I know. But your neck…” Devon trailed off because he wasn’t sure how to tell Karsten his neck looked like scar-riddled raw meat. “I promise to get you another one.”
Karsten lowered his head and frowned. “Right. Because now you own me.”
“No. I don’t.” Devon wanted to reach out and put his hand reassuringly on Karsten’s shoulder, but he feared any touch would be taken the wrong way. Given what he’d been through, Karsten was terribly fragile right now. Devon swore he wouldn’t do anything to make his situation worse.
Up came Karsten’s head. “But I gave myself to you.”
“You did that because you were scared out of your mind at the prospect of being used by a farm full of randy slammers.” Devon had no illusions about Karsten’s offer. “You have an amazingly strong sense of self-preservation.”
“If I’m so strong, how did I end up bound to the building in the first place?” Karsten slumped down, his defeat stamped clearly in his body language.
“That wasn’t your fault.” Devon cut him off before Karsten could put himself down further. “They were many, and you are only one man.”
“Boy. That’s what your brother kept calling me.”
“Caleb can be an utter ass.” Devon was annoyed with Caleb for his harsh be
havior. McBride might have made the same call, but he certainly would have handled it differently. “But his opinion is only that—his opinion. Not mine and not anyone else’s. I think you’re amazing.”
A dubious frown wrinkled up Karsten’s face.
“You had to be strong to come through what you did.” Devon offered out more food, but Karsten shook his head.
“I’m full.”
Devon didn’t think that was quite true. Given how slowly he chewed, and how he winced when he swallowed, Devon thought it hurt him to eat right now. But soon, he’d be better, and then Devon would have Ollie make him all kinds of rich foods to fatten him up. Not that there was anything wrong with Karsten’s body, just that his tormenters clearly hadn’t bothered to feed him in days.
Karsten wrapped his robe a little tighter around himself, making Devon realize that he was staring at him. Embarrassed, not for looking but that he’d given Karsten the wrong impression, Devon rose and took the dishes from the table over to the edge of the sink. His cookbot would clean up, but moving things off the table gave Devon something to do.
“I guess you can cut if off. If you really want to.”
Devon breathed a sigh of relief. It was a small show of trust, but he’d take it. Karsten was going to be difficult to handle, but as long as Devon put his needs first, he’d be able to help him heal. And then a tug on his heart made him grip the glass in his hand. What if he was making Karsten all better so he could go to another man? Ollie said he didn’t want a mate because he wanted to focus on cooking, but that was before the world got turned on its ear. Besides, Renner and Caleb didn’t have mates. Both of them were big and handsome. Even though Karsten didn’t seem to like Caleb, he hadn’t met Renner, who was far more handsome than Devon. Or so he’d always thought.
“Devon?”
“Right. Sorry. I was thinking of what else you’ll need.” He turned and was caught off guard by Karsten’s beauty. The sun was glinting off the beige floor, lighting up his pale blond hair and obscuring all his wounds. When he was well, he would be a step away from perfect. Given half a chance, his brothers would probably fight to the death for him. As Devon lifted the tool, he questioned his brilliant idea to let Karsten off the hook. Had he shut his mouth, the stunning thrall would be his forevermore. But his heroic heart refused to let him take advantage. Even when he saw his deepest desire slipping away he couldn’t obtain his dreams by lying, cheating, or stealing. Karsten had only offered out himself because he had nothing else to bargain with.
Devon Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 5] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 6
