Devour (Hellish Book 2)

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Devour (Hellish Book 2) Page 3

by Charity Parkerson


  “Do it,” Cin taunted again, recognizing Niall was on the edge of exploding with anger.

  Niall leaned closer. Barely an inch separated their mouths from touching. Cin could feel the man’s every exhaled breath brushing his lips. Niall’s flavor wasn’t unfamiliar to him. They’d lived together hundreds of years. It was inevitable they’d give in to passion occasionally. He could already taste Niall coating his tongue. The rage in Niall’s gaze dimmed. He pushed away.

  “You’re not him.”

  He snagged a box from his dresser and pushed it into Cin’s arms. The man’s dark expression made it that much harder for Cin to catch his breath. “Give that to Jonathan. In Tortola, things got so hectic, his laptop and all his work got left behind at the hotel. I grabbed it for him. Let him know I need him to keep doing everything he did before the turn, except now he does it for me and not a magazine. He’s always been one step ahead of us. I don’t expect that’ll change.”

  “Niall,” Cin said, still trying his damnedest to salvage things.

  Niall ignored him. “I’ll pay him whatever. Hell, royalty should have some perks, right? Also, let him know I’ll back pay him for the past six years he’s been working with us without knowing it.”

  Niall undressed and found dry clothes while giving his speech. The longer he talked, the more Cin’s heart sank. Niall had made up his mind. This was how things would be between them now.

  Cin cleared his throat past the lump growing there. “Seems to me, you’ve already decided to give up both of us.” He cleared his throat again. “I would’ve followed you anywhere, my prince,” Cin said, giving a short bow and walking away. He no longer cared to hear what else Niall had to say. The deep hurt in Niall’s eyes made Cin feel like the worst of traitors. It was funny how something could be no one’s fault, yet still feel like it was everyone’s.

  He heard Jonathan’s laughter before reaching the living room. There was a reason Faolan’s name sounded like “fool-on.” He always acted like an idiot and was always on. It seemed today was no different. Instead of racing into the room, hoping to see Jonathan’s smile, Cin slowed his step. He worried if he burst into the room, he’d have to watch the smile slip from Jonathan’s face. The man rarely smiled anymore. Instead, Cin lingered outside the door and eavesdropped.

  Jonathan’s voice drifted out. “Why do I get the feeling you were the court jester in your day? Wait. Was that even a thing back then?”

  “Our days could get verra boring. That is, when we weren’t working to survive. Back then, every day was a chore. You woke up and then worked your arse off just to make it through another day. Hauling in water, feeding animals, hunting, and doing a million things people take for granted today with a push of a button. But still, at mealtimes or at night before bed, there was no TV, or much of anything for entertainment. So, I guess I have always been a bit of a jokester. Someone had to break the monotony.”

  “I’m sure your efforts were appreciated.”

  A loud guffaw sounded throughout the room. Cin smiled. He could practically see Faol holding his stomach in laughter. “Not at all. If anything, I was a bit of a nuisance. Not that I cared, mind you. I like to make people laugh, and whether they admit to it or not, people need a reason to smile. Nowadays, I don’t have as much of an audience, but I still try. It’s nice to have a fresh face to entertain.”

  “So I’m your project now?”

  Faol’s voice turned serious. “Aye, if you’d like to call it that. You’re sad, and I don’t know how else to fix it.”

  Silence fell between them for long enough to make Cin feel a bit stupid for still lingering outside the door. When Jonathan spoke again, Cin’s heart squeezed in his chest.

  “They should’ve let me die. All of this could’ve been avoided.”

  “Aye, they should’ve,” Faol said, making Cin want to rush into the room and flatten his nose. The man’s next words kept his feet glued to the floor. “Then again, mayhap if Cin had turned you years ago, as he should’ve done, all this could’ve been avoided. It matters not why things are as they are. The Gods have set you on this path. Eventually, you’ll find out why. Until then, keep in mind you have no control over fate, and get on with your life.”

  Jonathan sighed. “For future reference, don’t worry too much over my mood. It’s all over the place since my turning. I’m like a crazy hormonal teenager. There’s no sense in you worrying about something even I can’t control.”

  “It’ll get better. Everything’s just heightened—”

  Since they’d moved past the heavy stuff, Cin chose to make his presence known, cutting off Faol. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Rather than Jonathan’s smile melting away, as Cin feared, it grew at the sight of Cin. “Hey, sexy. I’m in dire need of gifts, and you, of course,” Jonathan added with a wink. Cin crossed the room and set the box on the table in front of Jonathan. He leaned forward and eyed its contents. “Wow. It’s stuff that already belongs to me,” Jonathan said with laughter lacing each word. Cin swept in and captured Jonathan’s lips, forcing the man back against the couch until he could straddle his hips. “Mmm,” Jonathan hummed against his lips. “It’s even more stuff that already belongs to me.”

  “I think I hear someone calling my name,” Faol said, laughing. “Like at the other end of the house. Possibly it came from the pub down the street,” he added, his voice getting farther away.

  Cin waved over his shoulder, sending the other man on his way. “Goddamn, Jonathan. I don’t want to do anything anymore but touch you. It’s like I need to make up for all the many times we’ve been apart. I know we have forever, but damn,” he said, humming the last word against Jonathan’s throat. “There used to be this ice cream parlor in London. I swear, you smell just like that place. It makes me want to lick you all day.” Cin could smell Jonathan’s lust, hear the way his heart rate kicked up, and practically taste the endorphins in the air. “I love you,” Cin said, whispering the words like a shared secret.

  Jonathan massaged Cin’s ass between his hands, drawing him closer and obviously not unwilling to forgo another night of working. “I love you too, baby.”

  “The lovey-dovey shit is boring. Get to the dick sucking already.”

  Cin’s head whipped around in Faol’s direction. “What the hell? I thought you’d left.”

  Faol’s wicked smile held no repentance. “I’m verra good at throwing my voice, making it seem like I’m getting farther away.” He pitched his voice lower with every word, demonstrating the effect. “Now, let’s see some skin.”

  Jonathan’s body shook with laughter. That was the only reason Cin wasn’t losing his shit. Jonathan patted his ass. “Tell me why you’ve brought my computer.”

  Cin reluctantly climbed from Jonathan’s lap. As much as he wanted to be alone with Jonathan, he knew a lost cause when he saw one. “You’re working for Niall now.”

  “Just Niall?”

  Cin glanced over, confused by Jonathan’s odd tone. “Yes. We all work for Niall. Now you do too. So,” he said, snagging the laptop from the box, “he needs your brand of research. While we’re certain the demons are using this town for the same purposes as Tortola, we’ve yet to locate the pack. You found them without trying in Tortola. We need you to do it again.”

  Jonathan eyed the laptop. “That’s probably long past being dead.”

  Cin passed the device Jonathan’s way. “Find an outlet and get started. We need you.”

  3

  One month later…

  They didn’t need him. Maybe Cin had claimed Jonathan would be of use now. During the past month of research, he’d learned one thing if he’d learned nothing else—he was useless to this clan. Occasionally, he’d find a tidbit—a place they could search. The men would be off, scouting the area or doing surveillance. Jonathan was here, trapped in the house, and still marveling over the fact he couldn’t find anything to eat he liked anymore.

  He eyed his peanut butter and jelly sandwich with suspici
on. Faolan slowed on his way to the sink. His eyebrows rose in silent question.

  Jonathan spoke around the peanut butter sticking to the roof of his mouth. “Why is this the nastiest thing I’ve ever had in my mouth?”

  After grabbing a beer from the fridge, Faolan pulled a chair away from the table with his foot. He plopped down, facing Jonathan. “That’s a good question. Why is that the nastiest thing you’ve had in your mouth?” he asked, twisting the cap off his bottle. He tossed the cap away before taking a long swig. “I mean,” Faolan continued, “you date real men. Like, sweating, battling, burping, and farting real mean. So, how is it that a PB and J is the most disgusting thing you’ve ever put in your mouth? You should be able to name at least fifteen disgusting things you’ve had coating your tongue other than that sandwich by now.”

  Jonathan’s shoulders shook. He tried not to choke.

  Faolan wasn’t finished. He plucked the sandwich from Jonathan’s hands. “Let’s look at this logically.” He took a huge bite. Faolan pulled a face before reaching for the trashcan, tossing the sandwich in and spitting out the bite. “Ugh. I can’t get it off my tongue. I take it back. You’ve had eight, maybe nine worse things in your mouth before.” Jonathan laughed harder as Faolan chugged his beer, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

  “That was my lunch slash breakfast, possibly mid-morning snack.”

  Faolan used Jonathan’s napkin to scrape his tongue. “That wasn’t food. That was diabetes. Your taste buds have changed with the turning. You need something better. Are you ready for this? Now just hear me out. You need something big and salty.”

  Niall’s hands landed on Jonathan’s shoulders and squeezed. At the contact, every nerve ending sang. Jonathan couldn’t stop smiling.

  “What are you two up to?”

  “Faolan’s trying to get me to suck his dick,” Jonathan said without an ounce of shame.

  “A big pretzel. I’m trying to get him to eat one of those big pretzels we have in the freezer. All it takes is a few seconds in the microwave.”

  Jonathan snorted.

  “Then, once he’s got something in his stomach, he can suck my dick if he so chooses.”

  Niall’s low chuckle had Jonathan shaking with laughter. He massaged Jonathan’s shoulders once more. Jonathan’s spine relaxed against the chair as he sank into the sensation. “In all honesty, you probably do need something salty. Not Faolan’s dick, of course, as I’m sure he’d like to keep it.” Faolan winced. Niall ignored him. “You’ve changed on a biological level. Your body has different needs.” His body had needs, so many needs with Niall touching him. Niall turned away and headed for the freezer. “Come here.”

  Jonathan immediately stood and followed on Niall’s heels to the freezer.

  “You like sweets, correct?”

  Jonathan nodded. “But they don’t taste the same.” He pulled a face. “It really sucks.”

  Niall nodded. Jonathan could feel his understanding. “You don’t have to give it up. Just change the way you look at it.” He pulled a container of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. Jonathon watched as he found a shaker of sea salt and some dark chocolate crumbles. After making a pile of salt and crumbles, he dipped a spoonful of ice cream in the mixture. “Try this,” Niall said, holding out the spoon. Jonathan dutifully opened his mouth and accepted the bite. An explosion of salt, bitter, and sweet coated his taste buds. Jonathan’s eyes fell closed as he swallowed the delicious concoction.

  “Oh my God. That’s amazing.” His eyes opened. Jonathan stopped breathing as his gaze collided with Niall’s. Hunger stared back at him, but there was something else too. Jonathan skimmed Niall’s mind without thought. A wave of sadness washed over Jonathan. “I’m sorry too.”

  You have nothing to be sorry about.

  I stole your life.

  To Jonathan’s surprise, Niall smiled. “No, you didn’t. You gave me a reason to keep going.”

  “No fair,” Faolan said, reminding them of his presence. “No one else can read Niall’s mind unless he lets us. He’s powerful. Is it because Jonathan was a Seer before the turn? Or do you think it’s because he’s mated to a prince?”

  Horror crawled over Jonathan’s skin. “Prince?”

  Niall’s gaze skirted away. He set the spoon on the counter.

  “Oh, fook,” Faolan said, coming to his feet. “I’m out.”

  Jonathan ignored Faolan’s hasty exit. “You’re a prince?”

  “I assumed you knew by now.”

  Without thought, Jonathan growled. “How would I know? No one tells me anything. I’m just sitting around, waiting on the passing of eternity, I suppose.”

  Niall met his gaze. “In our world, each species has its rulers. We don’t answer to the laws of man. Someone has to keep order.”

  Jonathan tried hard not to panic. He hated not knowing what he’d stepped into. “So I’m mated to a prince. What does that mean for me?” Even Jonathan couldn’t believe how calm he sounded. There was no way Niall didn’t realize Jonathan was freaking the fuck out inside.

  A dimple appeared in Niall’s cheek. He picked up the spoon and repeated his earlier process. Jonathan dutifully opened his mouth as Niall fed him. Niall waited until Jonathan’s mouth was full before responding. “If I ever ascend to the throne, you’ll rule beside me.” Before Jonathan had time to panic, Niall eased his worries. “But I’m fourth in line. Considering we’re all immortal, the odds of me ever ruling anything other than this merry lot of filthy clansmen are astronomical. Plus, my father would probably come back and hold the throne as a ghost to keep me from having it. No one expects anything from you, Jonathan.” He continued to feed Jonathan while giving his speech. “You’re here because everyone wants you here. I don’t know why you can shove your way into my thoughts when no one else has ever been able to do so in the past.” His smile turned sad. “Just be careful in there. It’s a dark place.”

  Jonathan searched Niall’s face. Now that he’d been told to be careful, he couldn’t stop trying to read Niall’s every thought. “You’ve gone too long without taking blood.”

  “I can go much longer than a regular vampire,” Niall said, trying to spoon more ice cream into Jonathan’s mouth.

  He pushed the spoon away. “How long?”

  Niall seemed to think it over. “Probably six months,” he said after a minute. He nodded as if satisfied with that answer. “Six months.”

  “How long has it been?”

  One of Niall’s massive shoulders lifted in a half shrug. “Since the last time you offered me your vein.”

  It took all of Jonathan’s willpower not to let his mouth hang open. “Seriously? Why?”

  Obviously realizing Jonathan didn’t intend to let him continue with the ice cream, Niall set the spoon aside. “You’ve been recovering, and it’s very… difficult,” Niall said, as if searching for the right word, “to accept taking blood from anyone other than your mate.” Niall’s expression turned dark and hot. Jonathan’s mouth went dry. “Basically, I have no desire to sink my fangs into anyone else.”

  “I’m better now. You should feed.”

  Niall shook his head. “I’m okay.”

  “You’re not,” Jonathan argued. “Look,” he said, tempering his voice. “We can make this not so awkward. Let’s do it right here, standing up with any witnesses who choose to stroll into the kitchen.”

  “You think I wouldn’t take you in front of witnesses?” Niall asked, sounding two steps shy of deadly. “Do you really believe—given the chance—I wouldn’t bend you over this sink and fook you with the whole world watching?”

  If Jonathan had ever been harder in his life, he couldn’t remember it. His voice turned husky with his arousal. “We can do this. Drink from my wrist. I’ll keep you out of my head. Nice and impersonal.”

  “No one can keep me out.”

  “What am I thinking right now?” Jonathan shot back as quickly.

  Niall focused on Jonathan. Jonathan split his attent
ion between holding a wall between them and picturing the way Niall’s lips always clung to his in dreams. He needed his thoughts to be sexual to test his wall because he knew without a doubt his thoughts would be ten times as bad once Niall touched him.

  Niall’s expression went from fierce to confused. “Are you keeping your mind blank?”

  Jonathan felt his smile grow into something wicked. “Nope.”

  Without warning, Niall grabbed Jonathan’s wrist and bit down. A gasp tore from Jonathan’s lips at the unexpected move. He could feel Niall probing at his thoughts. It was like a feather tickling his brain. While gritting his back teeth, Jonathan did his damnedest to keep the man out. He’d been wrong. So very wrong. Jonathan had honestly believed the wrist would be a better choice. Now he couldn’t stop picturing Niall’s lips sucking his wrist while Jonathan’s lips were wrapped around Niall’s dick. A line appeared between Niall’s eyes. Jonathan’s heart rate kicked up and his breathing increased as he tried fighting his body’s reaction. He needed to keep Niall out or the man would never agree to this again. Jonathan couldn’t let him starve.

  Niall licked the wound closed and tore his mouth away. Before Jonathan could catch his breath and argue that Niall hadn’t taken enough to sustain him, Niall tugged him into his arms.

  “I don’t like the silence. Let me in,” he begged before sinking his fangs into Jonathan’s throat.

  A moan escaped him before Jonathan could call it back. His walls fell and every fantasy he had of being on his knees filled his head. In his mind, there was no part of Niall left unlicked. Niall pulled his hair in real life the way he did in Jonathan’s fantasies. He had no clue what kept him from coming in his jeans that second. He was panting and moving against Niall’s body, seeking relief from the fire threatening to burn him alive. Niall’s tongue swiped Jonathan’s throat. Jonathan’s knees turned to mush. Only Niall’s massive arms wrapped around his waist kept Jonathan from hitting the floor.

 

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