A vampire’s bond, also referred to as a blood bond or dark bond, is created when a vampire exchanges blood with another individual. Although there have been no scientific studies on the effect of a vampire’s bond on witches, the Wiccan Wars, and other isolated events throughout history, urges any witch considering such a course to err on the side of caution. Through many accounts by those who have experienced the bond first hand, it’s strongly believed there to be a transfer of essence during the exchange of blood, the effects (listed below) have been documented to last for several—and in some cases, hundreds of—years.
Cora gasped.
Mace sat up, fully alert. “What is it?” He glanced around the room till his gaze landed on the book that was now flattened to her chest.
“Nothing,” she insisted with an intentionally muted tone. “I just—” She thought quickly. “—thought I saw a shadow. Guess I’m still a little spooked from before.”
Mace quirked a dubious brow, and she wondered if he’d heard the false note. “The offer still stands. We can leave here any time—”
“No. It’s fine. Please go back to sleep. I won’t be startled again.”
She had to control her reactions!
After a skeptical moment, Mace returned to lying in the bed, but didn’t seem as relaxed as he had been before.
Dying to read on, she lowered the book back to her lap.
The most common effects of the bond include (but are not inclusive) clairvoyance between the affected individuals, a feeling of closeness or understanding, and a strong sense of loyalty.
Some less common cases reported telepathy, while others claimed to have gained physical strength and longevity from their counterparts. Aside from those benefits, there are perhaps more that have not yet been documented.
The drawbacks of bonding with one or more vampires: Our history suggests binding with more than one vampire at a time can tempt even the strongest mind down a power-hungry path that more often than not ends in destruction and sorrow. For this reason, binding with more than three vampires at a time it is prohibited by most coven authorities today.
Another drawback to binding a vampire is the constant need for a vampire to feed. Once a bond is sparked, the vampire(s) must take nourishment only from their bonded partner. No other can quench his/her hunger—
Cora shot to her feet. The book slid off her lap, flopping to the ground.
Mace leapt up as well. “Damn it, Cora! That’s it, we’re leaving.”
He reached for her, but she jerked away.
He pulled back. “What’s wrong?”
“You…You have to feed from me?”
For an unguarded moment, Mace was shocked. “What?” Then his eyes darted to the book in accusation. “What did you read?”
“It said you have to feed from me. No one else can satisfy your hunger now that we’re bonded.” Betrayal stained each word. “Is it true?”
He didn’t speak for several seconds, which was answer enough. “Cora…”
“When were you going to inform me of this little stipulation? When your fangs were in my neck?” Her hand went to her collarbone as if protectively.
“No. It’s not like that. I won’t feed from you.”
“You deliberately kept this from me. How can I trust anything you say?” Even as she said it, the bond had her wanting to trust him, infuriating her further. “You forced me into this against my will. You stole my essence!”
“What? What does that mean?”
Ignoring him, she continued. “You’re making me want to trust you when I know that I can’t possibly.”
“You can trust me—”
“What else are you keeping from me? Why am I really here? What are your plans for me?” She paused as suspicions turned cancerous. “Is Knox in on this?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
“Do you both plan to bond me and feed from me? To keep me forever, against my will?”
Mason’s expression turned dark, dangerous, and he crossed the distance between them, looming over her. It took all her courage to stand her ground. Still, her throat closed up with trepidation.
“I’ve let you insult me enough for one night. To hear you speak, I am a depraved kidnapper with heinous intentions toward you. Have I abused you? Harmed you in any way? Left you to die when my blood could heal you?”
Cora flinched.
“No. I used it to save you. I’ve risked my life to spirit you to safety.” His lip curled. “And you accuse me thusly? Merely because I kept something from you that I knew would cause you anxiety? I’ve fed several times since we’ve been bonded, by the way. Sure it has left me unsatisfied, but I can tolerate it till our bond fades. I’ll survive. And without taking another drop from you, if that is your wish.”
He turned away and ran his hands through this hair before continuing. “What I can’t tolerate is your continued disdain.”
She dropped her hand, regretting her outburst. He was right. He’d been the very antithesis of her every expectation. An apology was on the tip of her tongue when he faced her again.
Grey eyes flashed with a dark warning, and he added in a menacing tone, “Don’t ever suggest that I would share you again.”
Chapter 16
Cora lay awake next to Mace on the bed. He had his back to her, and though he was sleeping now, it still felt like he was giving her the cold shoulder.
How was it he had managed to make her feel guilty? He was the one who had lied through omission. Though his reason for doing so was somewhat touching.
Still, he had bonded her against her will!
However, if she were being honest, she didn’t believe he intended to do that.
On the flip side, he had taken her blood without permission. He’d certainly intended to do that.
And yet, to be fair, she’d been begging for more than his fangs at the time…and he’d resisted. Had acted mostly honorable.
She recalled the less-than-honorable part, and her mind brought forth tempting images of sweaty bodies merging as one, moans in the night, Mason’s talented tongue caressing her skin.
A delirious and deeply primitive hunger roused in her core, raising the temperature of her body.
Her heart jerked just as Mason’s body did.
He lifted his head off the pillow with a drowsy, “Cora?”
She couldn’t form a response aside from the rapid increase of her pulse. Embarrassment surged. There was no doubt in her mind that through the darkness, he could tell her body was drowning in desire.
After a moment of intense silence from both of them, he put his head back down, muttering, “You’ll drive me insane before long, woman. You know I would tend you if you asked it of me.”
“I don’t need tending,” she whispered back.
“I’ve never met anyone who needed tending more.”
She swallowed, mentally denying it.
After another bout of silence, he added so low she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly, “Or anyone more lovely.”
About the time she regained control of her body, Mace had slipped back into slumber, his breath coming in light snores. She had no hopes of finding that peaceful, unconscious place, and the information still left in the book called to her. Giving in, she rose and snatched the book from where she’d left it on the floor.
Not wanting to disturb Mace further, she decided to take herself downstairs. Before she slipped into the hall, she caught the glimmer of the necklace he’d purchased for her on the desk. She slipped it on, enjoying the weight of it around her neck.
The living room was empty, thank the goddess. Knox must be in his own room, hopefully sleeping as well, although she didn’t expect either Knox or Mace to remain in bed much longer. The sky was already bleeding from black into navy. Soon enough it would be cobalt and then baby blue.
She plopped onto the couch and cracked open the book. Emotionally preparing for what she might discover next, she started where she’d left off.
Once a bond is sparked, the vampire(s) must take nourishment only from their bonded partner. No other can quell his/her hunger. Bonded vampires that do not take nourishment from his/her bonded partner will noticeably weaken over time. It has been described as the equivalent of malnourishment in humans. A vampire can survive by feeding from alternative sources, but would experience the constant sensation of starvation. Witches who take on multiple bonds must be conscious of this phenomenon and consider creating a clear feeding schedule.
Managing multiple bonds: When taking on more than one—
Cora skipped past that section. “Not happening,” she mumbled.
She dropped her head back against the sofa. Mace would starve if he didn’t feed from her. He’d certainly attempted to feed from others already. Said he could manage. But he’d also said he hadn’t been satisfied. Did that mean he was suffering? Was he starving even now? Would he prefer to feed from her? Of course he would. What had he said after taking her blood that first night? She was like heaven on his tongue?
She shivered.
He’d commented about already being addicted.
It was surely the bond causing a tiny smile to play along her lips. She mentally shook herself. Could she consent to feeding Mace and still keep her head? Did she even want to keep her head?
Oh, this was so confusing!
Frustrated, she scanned the next few pages till something stole her interest and killed her wayward thoughts.
With all the drawbacks of bonding a vampire, why, then, do some witches stand by the practice? Even taking on more than the conventionally accepted amount? In an interview, I posed this very question to a witch who, naturally, preferred to remain anonymous. Her response was enlightening.
“Better than a bodyguard,” she’d said smugly.
She claimed the loyalty of a bonded vampire was equal to none, and that her brood, as she called them, would do anything she asked, even sacrifice themselves. She wouldn’t admit to how many vampires she’d bonded and merely smiled when asked if it was over three.
Other witches, who have been asked similar questions, also boasted about the unwavering devotion they’d received while bonded to a vampire. It is not clear whether this devotion goes both ways.
Cora frowned.
Is that why Mace had commented more than once about their bond fading. Was he eager for it? Did he feel trapped…by her?
Revulsion twisted her gut. She couldn’t imagine using him, or anyone, like that. Yet, hadn’t he already risked his life for hers? Nausea threatened. Did this blood bond take his will and make it hers?
Voices filtering in from the porch brought her out of her head. The front door opened, allowing in dawn’s light.
“You’re up early,” Knox said, actually offering her a smile as he knocked mud off his boots before entering.
Cora set the book aside and stood, debating whether it would be more prudent to be amicable or to escape upstairs. Before she could decide, another figure stepped past the threshold, a shorter light-haired male.
Knox eyed the book she’d been reading. His brow rose ever so slightly. “I found Mr. Tucker here wandering the woods, trying to find the cottage. Apparently, he’s here to test your blood?”
“Oh, yes,” Cora said, relieved. She added for Mr. Tucker’s benefit, “Hopefully there had been a mistake with the first test.”
Mr. Tucker returned her smile with a small facsimile, his eyes darting back at Knox. He appeared a little intimidated by Knox’s larger stature. He must be human. The poor guy probably hadn’t anticipated being approached by a strange vamp in the woods first thing in the morning. She could relate.
She smiled at the man, feeling an instant sense of camaraderie, and then crossed the room to offer her hand as if it were her duty to put him at ease. “I’m Cora. It’s nice to meet you.”
He reached out and gripped her hand too tightly. His other hand disappeared behind the lining of his coat.
After everything she’d been through over the last few days, she really should have seen it coming. Yet, even after the gun she spied in Mr. Tucker’s possession fired, even after Knox’s foul curse and then witnessing him snap her attacker’s neck, she was flabbergasted. It happened so fast, she hadn’t even registered the pain in her chest.
“Motherfucker,” she cursed.
Blood gurgled from her lungs. She toppled backwards to the floor, gripping her wound. As she stared at the ceiling, a hot tear trickled down to her temple and dripped onto her ear.
Knox appeared over her, looking appalled. He was speaking, but she couldn’t hear a word.
He bit his wrist open and shoved the seeping wound to her mouth. His blood mingled with hers, finding its way down her throat.
* * *
Mace woke to the sound of a gunshot. The increasingly recognizable sensation of Cora’s horror blasted through him. He hurled himself out of bed, and was down the stairs in an instant.
His jaw dropped at the scene. An unfamiliar man lay lifeless by the open doorway. A few feet away from that, Knox was hunched over a bloodied Cora!
Fury blanked his mind and he lunged for Knox, barreling him to the ground. Between the double-fisted, bone-jarring punches Mace mindlessly dealt out, Knox tried to speak.
Mace was too far past savage to listen. Knox had been touching Cora! Feeding her his blood! What else had he done to her?
It was only because Knox refused to put up much of a fight that a bit of reason filtered in, and he finally heard Knox shout through a newly broken jaw, “It was the human!”
Mace glanced up at the body by the door, a small human male with a gun lying next to his limp hand. Taking advantage of Mason’s distraction, Knox rushed out an explanation. “He said he was here to test Cora’s blood. Said Trent sent him, and you were expecting him.” He added quickly, “I had to feed her my blood or she’d have died.”
The sound of Cora’s slow heartbeat eclipsed all else. She was pale, almost white. Blood seeped from her mouth. Had Knox given her enough? Mace hurried to her side, opened his vein for her, and pressed his wrist to her lips. As he lifted her torso, her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Cora, love, drink.”
He cursed violently when he looked down at the large red stain coating the front of her shirt. He ripped open the fabric enough to keep her covered but reveal the gaping wound in her chest. A ravenous terror ate at his insides like acid on steroids. He could lose her yet.
“Coraline, baby, drink,” he pleaded, disregarding the dampness on his cheek. “Come back. I’m sorry I got in your face last night. You can accuse me of anything you want. Hate me. Just don’t die on me.”
“Man, I’m sorry,” Knox said, sounding sincere.
“I’ll kill you if she dies,” Mace hissed back.
“I know.” Knox replied, watching with a kind of morbid fascination.
Through gritted teeth, Mace demanded, “Tell me she got some of your blood down.”
“I think she did before she passed out.”
For now, Mace was relieved by that. Later, he would deal with the confounding resentment that threatened to surge. More relief washed over him when Cora’s wound began to knit itself closed. Her breathing became less labored. Her throat started to work as she swallowed his blood.
“That’s it, love.”
Her eyelids opened, and she looked up at him blearily. He expected her to grow angry, disgusted, maybe slap his hand away once she gained enough strength. Instead, she manacled her hand around his wrist, her grip like a vice as she pulled deeply from his vein, swallowed, then did it again.
“Careful,” he cooed. “You remember what happened last time.”
Her chest wound now looked more like a small gash. She was healing faster than expected. The residual dark cells in her system must be speeding the process. Uncaring, she drew from his vein again, and then again. Her pulls were starting to have a strange effect on him, a carnal effect, as if she were sucking him off rather than taking sustenance from him. It
was both disturbing and erotic. He gently tugged his arm away, extracting it from her eager grip.
She appeared unhappy by that, but was still too weak to protest.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to their room, calling to Knox, “No one else comes near this place.”
Mace didn’t wait for Knox to affirm the order.
* * *
The pain in Cora’s chest began to ease. She realized she’d been transferred to the bed, but couldn’t recall how she’d gotten there. Her fuzzy mind told her she’d nearly died yet again. Mace must be pissed. She tried to force her eyes open, but they felt like a million pounds each.
Mace’s voice came as if from far away, offering soft words, lulling her, assuring her. She was safe now, he said. He would take care of her. This absolute truth echoed through to her bones. He would always take care of her. He was the kindest, most generous vampire—no, person—she had ever known. He deserved to be taken care of with equal ardor. How could she deny him what he needed to survive? Merely out of fear? Life was too short for fear any longer.
Especially for her.
She knew that single grain of sand was teetering on the edge. It might have been thwarted this time, but eventually it would find its way down the hourglass. Like her, its final demise had been stayed off another day.
Her most recent brush with death had managed to kill something, however.
Her unnecessary mistrust of Mason.
Finally, she cracked her eyes open. Mace hovered over her.
“Hi,” he said in a low voice.
“Hi,” she replied a little shaky.
His lips spread into a small grin, but his eyes continued to show a deep chasm of worry. He wiped her forehead with a cool damp cloth. Her heart warmed at his tenderness, healing it in a way that had nothing to do with the bullet that had nearly carved a thoroughfare in her chest.
A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) Page 15
