B00T3PMJTS EBOK

by Tracy Tappan

  “Yes.” She felt her shoulders sag. “Oh, thank goodness.” She took a few moments to breathe, then gave him another once-over. “You don’t look so well.”

  “Don’t feel so well, either.” He pushed an unsteady hand through his unruly hair. “And then some.”

  Touching her hand to the doorjamb, she smiled at him tenderly. “It’s been a long night.” She wanted to get her hands in that hair of his, tame it, caress it. “Do you want to come in? I mean, if you have to get back to your brother, I understand…”

  “No. Jaċken was the one who made me get my butt over here.”

  She inched a brow up. “He did?”

  He smiled halfway. “I guess he was getting sick of watching me melt.”

  “Well, what does he expect, considering all that’s been going on?” She reached for Nỵko’s hand. “Come inside, Nỵko. I don’t bite.” The pun was lost on him. Or…something was more off with him than she realized because—

  He pulled away. “I-I can’t, not until…” He paused to swallow. “Our bond isn’t complete, Faith, which means I’m feeling extremely driven right now. Once I step into your room, I—”

  “What?” she interrupted sharply.

  He frowned at her. “What, what?”

  “What are you talking about? That’s what.” Not complete? She put her hands on her hips. “You fed on me. We’re bonded.”

  “But… No. We didn’t have sex after I fed, so…no.”

  She stared at him, her jaw coming loose.

  “I have to, uh, ejaculate inside you in order to…” He reddened. “Didn’t you read the community manual?”

  “Eight months ago! I can’t remember everything I read eight months ago.” Also, she’d skimmed it, figuring Vârcolac culture wouldn’t ever have anything to do with her. She’d lived all but the last few days in Ţărână with one foot out the door. Groaning softly, she dropped her head into her hand. All this time she’d thought she’d had him, and she hadn’t. And now… “Oh, God. You’ve changed your mind about bonding with me, haven’t you?” Tears rolled down her cheeks before she even knew she was going to cry. Why couldn’t she get her life together in this town?

  He jolted to attention. “No. Nonononono.”

  She turned and strode back into her room, plopping down onto her iron-framed couch.

  Nỵko gave her bedroom a panicked glance. “Ah, heck.” He took a careful step inside, planting his boot cautiously, as if the carpet was quicksand. “I’m not afraid of being with you anymore,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I got scared about not being able to protect the people I love, and I gave up when I should’ve listened to you and kept fighting. But…I just saw in Ţărână’s hospital how stupid I’ve been. I know I may not be able to save everyone, but I’ve had a lot of practice with saving, so I’d say I’m pretty good at it by now. The odds are strong for me being able to keep you and our children safe. Strong enough for me not to live in a hole.”

  She blinked. “Our children?”

  Another blush rose to his cheeks. “Yes, if you, uh…but I need you to be sure about us before we press ahead, because…well, a couple of things. First, you let me feed on you to save my life, and I need to know it wasn’t only for that reason. That may sound stupid, but please try to understand that no woman has ever liked me before, in a romantic way. Women are terrified of me, then once they get used to me, they think of me as…I don’t know, a nice protective ogre. I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the idea that you could possibly want Big Scary Nỵko as a mate. I’m sorry, it doesn’t compute. I need to be dead sure. So the second thing is…” He ducked his head. “Do you think of me that way? Um…romantically?”

  She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her bathrobe. “Of course.”

  Grimacing, he scuffed the toe of his boot against the carpet.

  “You think I copped to that too easily? Like I haven’t been paying attention?” She crossed her arms. “I love that you adore children. I love that you take on the job of watching out for the other warriors, because they’re tough, strong guys, so who else is there? I love how dedicated you are to your brothers and how much you clearly respected and admired your mother. I love your nimble fingers and nice laugh. I love that you took an interest in ballet, purely for me, and even amateur that you are, you noticed I dance with passion. I love that you think I smell like cookies—you can thank Kacie for that secret. I love that for the first time in a long time, I feel like there’s someone in my life who’s strong enough to carry the load when I can’t. I love you.”

  His throat moved visibly.

  “And, you know, love has a funny way of carving out attraction from something that wasn’t there before. I saw you as handsome right after our first and only date. But things really heated up for me yesterday in that cave room. It was the first time I’d seen you without a shirt. Your muscles are spectacular, and I thought all of your tattoos were kind of wicked artistic—although I probably shouldn’t think that, considering the horrible way they were put on. But here’s the blunt truth: when I sat on your lap, your penis and testicles felt big, and that made me want to hump your lights out. How’s that for feeling romantically inclined toward you? Enough? Are you going to pass out?” He looked on the verge of it, and as much as he weighed, if he toppled over, he’d probably crash right through the floor. “Listen, Nỵko, if you want to date some more, to be completely sure, then—”

  “Please, no,” he groaned. “This half-bond is killing me, Faith. I don’t think I can bear it much longer.”

  She pulled her chin in. “Wait. Are you saying you look like this”—she waved her hand up and down his body—“because of me?”

  His lids sank down as if pulled there by lead weights.

  Answer enough. “God, Nỵko, I don’t know how to convince you. I spent eight months waiting for you. What else do you want me to do? I’m not sure I have the energy for another Greek tragedy demonstration after Oţărât, but if you—”

  “No.” He pressed his large palms over his face. “Nothing. No more.” He groaned again. “I believe you.”

  “Well, good.” She saw that his hands were shaking. “Okay… So…? Do you want to see my ballerina tattoo now?”

  He dropped his hands and, despite the saucy way she’d said that, his expression was very serious. “I really do.” He started toward her, tearing his shirt off over his head—as in, actually tearing. His pants came off in the next moment, his boots, socks, everything.

  Faith opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Right in front of her was a panorama of muscle-packed male, Nỵko’s naked state once again putting on display his savage body art. The black, interlocking teeth covered his entire torso, sweeping up his abdomen, over his broad chest, up and over his shoulders, where, on the right, they disappeared beneath a square of gauze bandage. He didn’t have a single tattoo below his waist, but…That penis and testicles she’d just mentioned? Oh, my.

  Nỵko followed her line of sight to his crotch. “That’ll pop up once I feed on you again, and don’t worry, my bite won’t hurt this time.” He plucked her off the couch by her armpits and carried her, feet dangling, to the bed. Setting her on the edge of the mattress, he pushed her bathrobe off her shoulders, then hiked her nightgown over her head.

  Suddenly bared, her nipples puckered. She didn’t think she’d ever been stripped so fast. His eagerness was… She hid a smile. Lying back, she rolled slightly onto her left side and lifted her right hip to him. “There she is.”

  Nỵko pressed two fingers to her ballerina tattoo as his gaze traveled the length of her body. “How the heck did I end up with such a porcelain doll for a mate? I was supposed to bond with a woman who was part-hippopotamus or something.”

  “Come here.” She settled flat on her back. “You won’t crush me. Just prop yourself up on your elbows.”

  But he didn’t move. Something was happening to his face…

  It took a moment for her to figure out the expression—she’d
never thought to see anger on her sweet Nỵko—but he was livid, eyes fiery, the sides of his jaws bulging, his heavy fists clenched so tight that she could see the tendons stretched out from his knuckles. It took another moment for her to determine what had set him off. He was staring at the red and swollen patch of skin on her belly.

  “What. Is. That?” The question was squeezed out between his teeth.

  She covered the area with her palm, catching back a flinch. Ouch. The skin was still very sensitive.

  He pushed her hand aside. “Are those two black dots?”

  “Um…” She wasn’t scared, per se, but seeing Nỵko like this wasn’t fun.

  “Lørke tacked you, didn’t he?”

  There wasn’t any point in lying. “Yes. After I called out your name, he said he had to mark me as his.”

  Nỵko’s upper lip peeled off one of his fangs. “That ass hates me.” He tapped the tattoos on his neck. “Because he couldn’t break me.”

  “Look, honey, what’s done is done,” she said, sitting up. “It’s two measly dots, and they don’t even hurt that much, but if we keep thinking about it, then it will ruin our night together and that will be a victory for your father.” She studied Nỵko’s face. “Right?”

  He seemed to be taking in what she’d said. The lines of anger were easing from his expression.

  She reached for Nỵko, setting her hand on his hip. “Let’s not allow him to do that.” She tugged him forward, lifting her face for a kiss.

  His lips came down, but had barely touched hers before he was falling on top of her.

  “Ooof.”

  “Sorry,” he panted. “And fair warning. I’m not going to be very good at this.”

  His body heat flash-charged to a dizzying temperature, a raw, animal scent coming off him. She placed her hands on the heavy slabs of his shoulders. “You don’t need to rush.” But he clearly wasn’t capable of anything else. His heart pounded violently against her breasts as his mouth dropped to search frantically at her throat. Exhaling a feverish breath against her skin, Nỵko angled his head deeper into the bend of her neck. Pressure increased.

  She tensed for the space of a second, instinctively clutching his shoulders harder at the sensation of her skin being punctured. Then she relaxed. Oh, he was right. His bite didn’t hurt this time. There was only that incredible warmth, as if her body contained a small sun, heat blooming from the inside and moving out, pushing pleasure everywhere she had nerve endings. Sighing softly, she lolled her head back into the mattress and reveled in the feel of Nỵko sucking vigorously, his steady moans vibrating against her chest. Something about this was so…intimate.

  Pulling his fangs out with a final groan, he started in on a mad poke-about with his erection, the head of his sex jabbing her pelvis bone, her mons, her clitoris. She nearly yelped as he bumped into her anus. Goodness. It was time to get her hand down there and guide him to—

  The rounded head of his sex seated in her opening, and with a jerk of his hips, he plunged inside her.

  She cried out softly, stunned by the fulsome weight of him. The walls of her sheath rippled, adjusting to his size and dimension, her deepest muscles grabbing at his length. Oh, yes.

  Shuddering, Nỵko barked out a shout, then went still, his breathing ragged and his expression utterly flabbergasted.

  She bit back a smile. Oops.

  He stared at her in panic.

  She stared back at him through a sparkly vista of Fiinţă-generated stars. “It’s okay.”

  “I knew I was going to be bad, but not that bad.”

  “It was the half-bond, honey. It was making you crazy.” She might not be a Vârcolac expert, but she could tell that much. “Don’t worry about it.”

  His tongue dragged along his lips. “I’m not going to be like this always?”

  She grinned. “We’ll try again in ten minutes and you’ll see.”

  He studied her smile. “What’s that? It can’t be the look of a satisfied woman.”

  She giggled. “I am happy. We’re married now, aren’t we?”

  He paused, then exhaled a low chuckle. “My one, awesome pump did do that.”

  She laughed, the joy of the moment soaring through her. At long last, she had her man.

  He opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but a low growl rolled past his lips instead.

  The smile was startled off her face. She’d never heard him make a sound like that before.

  He looked as surprised by the noise as she was. Hefting himself off her, he knelt on the mattress at her feet, blinking, then he rubbed his eyes. “I’m seeing red,” he said.

  She levered herself up on her elbows. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m starting to go Rău. But it feels like it’s moving out of my control, like I’m drunk or something.” He pressed a palm to his ear. “Why in the heck—?”

  She sat up. “Has this ever happened to you before?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at her wrists, still chafed raw from being strung up in Oţărât, her heart wringing through a sieve. “It’s me, isn’t it? You’re having a negative reaction to bonding with me.”

  “Oh, crud.” The edges of his nostrils fluttered. “It is you.”

  Of course it was, because her life had just got on the right track.

  “You’re ovulating.”

  She glanced up. “What?”

  “And as I’m bonding to you and becoming your mate, I’m scenting it. Dang it, I’m going to glaze out and go into procreation mode on you, Faith, as soon as the bond is complete.”

  Procreation mode…oh, that she remembered from the manual, it had struck her as so unfortunate that a male Vârcolac couldn’t be emotionally involved in the creation of his own baby. As soon as he scented his mate’s fertility, he checked out into a state of quasi-unconsciousness, a state in which he robotically had intercourse with his wife until she was impregnated. From what Faith had heard, the act could sometimes last quite a few uncomfortable hours.

  Suddenly leaping off the bed, Nỵko charged over to the curtains that were closed across her balcony window and wrapped the cords around each of his wrists. “Go,” he ordered. “While you still can. When a half-Rău shifts into procreation mode our beast comes out.”

  “But won’t that put you into bonding withdrawal?” She understood that well enough, too; the whole town had watched poor Thomal Costache go through it. Which meant that if she left, depriving Nỵko of the ability to scent her, he would have to endure more misery after all that he’d just gone through with a half-bond.

  “I’ll deal with it. Now, go! I don’t want you to face down my Rău our first time together.”

  She didn’t move, held immobile by a riot of emotions churning inside her. There was, of course, relief that Nỵko wasn’t having some kind of weird allergic reaction to their bond. Also frustration at herself for not following the manual’s stern warning about bonded females testing their fertility hormones daily—although it was a little late to discover that directive also applied to prospective bonded females. And angst over the thought of her man possibly suffering. But those feelings were almost immediately smothered by biological need. She was ovulating right now. It didn’t take a straight-A student to figure out that if she and Nỵko continued to make love, she’d get pregnant. And, yes, it was probably stupid and irresponsible of her to think of starting a family with a man she hardly knew. There was always plenty of time for babies and all that blah, blah, blah. But she ached to have a little being growing inside her. This man’s baby: this man who loved children so much. And who loved her.

  “I think I’ll stay,” she said simply.

  He pressed back against the balcony window and widened his eyes on her.

  She positioned herself in the middle of the bed and lay flat on her back, wracking her brain for the manual’s guidelines on how a woman should conduct herself during Vârcolac mating. Sweat beaded her upper lip. How she wished she hadn’
t skimmed that part.

  A barbaric howl roared through the room and the curtain rods ripped out of the wall.

  Chapter Forty-six

  The SHIFTED World: Balboa Park, San Diego, four months later, December

  Standing with his feet planted like he owned the Meeting Tree, his powerful arms crossed, Erigeron steadily lifted his upper lip into a sneer. Drawing his blade to deal with this assembly was taking on more and more appeal. He’d just cast a quick glance up through a tangled mesh of naked branches at the position of the new moon and discovered they’d been at this quibbling for an hour.

  It was never a quiet affair when the head custos, or custodians, of the four clans met, but this was worse than usual. The topic currently under debate—the ongoing theft of Fianna warrior souls, which could equal death to them all—was understandably charged with emotion. Everyone had an opinion about the next step to take, and the racket of so many dissenting voices was coming close to splitting Erig’s head.

  The lead custos of Clan Salix, the largest clan, and once the only—until bellum libertatem, or the War of Freedom, had divided them into four—was shaking his fist at the representative from Clan Tsuga. Stupidus. Tsuga might be the smallest band of Tuatha Dé Danann, but they were brutes, all.

  Even the captain from Clan Kigelia, the most peace-loving and earth-nurturing, had his diamond-white eyebrows clamped in a frown.

  Erig needed to end this. They were getting nowhere. He shot a quick, sideways glance at each of his two lieutenants.

  Zigadenus was zipping around in short spurts, his red hair hanging forward in a sharp point down his nose. The churning prospect of violence had Zig in a state of hyper glee, but if the man didn’t stop his annoying, spastic flying, he was going to get swatted. If not by Erig, then someone.

  Erig switched his attention to his other side to find Daucus hovering in the air about a foot away. Erig deepened his sneer. Are we boring you? Daucus was focused on something outside of the Meeting Tree, giving Erig a view of the back of his blue hair.