“That something bad will happen to you, or you’ll leave me. I’m not going to do anything that might make either of those things happen. Oh I’m not saying I’ll be a ray of fucking sunshine, or that I won’t screw up sometimes. But I would never do anything that would hurt or push you away. Understand?” He relaxed a little when I nodded. “I’m just not good at talking about stuff, at talking about feelings and whatever.”
That made me remember what Evan had said – emotions had always got Jared into shit. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable having to tell me anything. “If she wasn’t already dead, I’d kill her for you,” I told him with all seriousness.
That got a hint of a smile from him. His hazel eyes smouldered with possessiveness and adoration when he looked down at me. And then my eyes filled up again. He gently swiped the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Hey, don’t be sad for me.”
“I might have homicidal tendencies, but I’m not made of stone.”
“No, you’re definitely not made of stone.”
“I don’t like crying. It makes me feel weak.” And then more tears came. Again, he wiped them away.
“One word I would never use to describe you is ‘weak’.”
“I thought you did in the beginning, when I first came here; that you arrogantly thought I was weak just because I was female. But it was your mother and Magda who’d created the prejudices, wasn’t it?”
He tilted his head. “With you, it was never really prejudice. It was panic. I knew that if I let you in my life in any capacity, even as a squad member, everything would turn upside fucking down. I’d had an immediate reaction to you, felt instantly possessive, and I hadn’t liked it. I hadn’t known what to do with it.”
He dropped a gentle but lingering kiss on my mouth. “I’d just never met anyone like you before. You’re not superficial or fake. You’re upfront about whatever flaws you have, you don’t pretend to be anything but who you are. That’s drugging to me.” He dabbed another kiss on my mouth, smiling this time. “But you didn’t want me.”
“Correction: I didn’t want to be another of your consorts.”
“You know, in all honesty, I truly hadn’t understood your problem over the consorts in the beginning. Women had always used me, and they still did then, so I hadn’t seen why I couldn’t do the same.” His arms contracted tight around me. “But that could just be because I’m an asshole.”
“I heard you telling Evan you felt bad. Why?”
“I don’t care that she’s dead, Sam. I hated her. Some people might say that’s not surprising—”
“That’s because it isn’t.”
“—but there are lots of people out there who were hurt by their parents and yet they still loved them. I wasn’t capable of giving her that unconditional love. I resented the way everybody bought her act, resented having to be part of that act, resented that everyone believed her lies that I was the one who needed help − the regular problem child − and she was the poor mother having to deal with me. She was my mother, and I hated her.”
I gave him a hard look. “She didn’t deserve your unconditional love, Jared. No one has the right to treat anyone the way she treated you − mother or not. In fact, your mother should be the one person who would never do it. How could you ever expect yourself to love someone like that?”
“But I should still care that she’s dead, shouldn’t I? I should care that it was only Evan she was looking for all these years, never me. But I don’t. The only thing I’ve been mourning is the mother that I never had, that I wished I’d had.” He sighed as his eyes took on a faraway quality. “You know, sometimes, I even think I’m like her.”
I tugged on his shirt, bringing his focus back to me. “No, no you’re not.”
“Vain. Can’t admit when I’m wrong. Can’t seem to form the word ‘sorry’. Can’t give a compliment.”
“Hey, lots of people are vain to some degree. And you’re not actually as vain as I first thought you were.”
He shook his head adamantly. “No. After coming here and becoming Heir, I forgot who I was and where I came from.”
“Because you wanted to,” I finished quietly.
He sucked in a breath, and I realised he hadn’t looked at it that way before. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah.”
“As for the other stuff…No one likes to admit when they’re wrong. But you know in your own head when you’re in the wrong and you care that you’re in the wrong – that’s what differentiates you from that bitch. ‘Sorry’ would be a nice thing to hear from you occasionally, but I prefer your current mode of apology, which is to fuck me senseless.”
That got me a smile. “And if you can’t give compliments it’s because you don’t know how to, because no one ever gave them to you. What would I do with a load of compliments anyway? Flattery means nothing to me. Actions mean something to me. And you act like you care. I feel that you care.”
“Of course I care.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and gently bit down on it. “You…you’re like a patch. You make the anger go away. Until you piss me off, which you do a lot.”
I thumped him in the stomach, shaking my head. “Plonker.”
“You love me really,” he wheezed out, leading me toward the door.
“Yeah, well, you love me.”
“Yes, I do, which is why I get so pissed when you fight me on trying to protect you.”
I shot him a playful, petulant scowl. “How about this: I’ll accommodate this protective streak you have, and you stop freezing me out.”
His brows arched, and I felt his suspiciousness. “That deal sounds fifty/fifty. For you, that’s a first.”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t need a little help right now, is it?”
“Hey, soon enough your gifts will be working again and you’ll be kicking ass like you usually are. Mine, included.”
I chuckled as I exited the room, almost not seeing Magda until it was too late. The gloating smile on her face told me something that made my stomach sink: she’d heard Jared’s comment about my gifts. Oh shit.
Rather than saying anything, she simply turned and headed back to the dining room.
Obviously having reached the same conclusion as me, Jared growled warningly, “Magda.”
Without breaking stride, she peered at him over her shoulder and winked. This wasn’t good. Hand-in-hand, presenting a united front, Jared and I re-entered the dining room. Seeing that she had made a beeline for Marcia and Rowan, I cursed. Smoothly but quickly, Jared and I walked to our table where only Antonio, Luther, Wes, and Lena sat.
“She knows,” Jared told Antonio as we returned to our seats. At Antonio’s confused frown, he elaborated, “Magda. She overheard me talking about Sam’s problem with her gifts.”
Antonio cursed, which raised everybody’s brows since he wasn’t one for swearing. “Once she informs the others, we will have a huge problem on our hands.”
“What exactly is it that you think they’ll do?” I asked.
“Cause a riot,” he replied. “What you have to understand is that this is much like humans having the right to vote for who is president, or prime minister, or whatever they term the ruler of their country. Up to now, no one has objected to you, despite their reservations. Yes, Marcia, Rowan, and Ricardo have issues with you, but they have not publically rejected you. If enough people were to do so, a voting would be held. If the outcome was that most of vampirekind had decided to vote against you, one of two things would have to happen. Jared must choose another life-partner—”
“That will never fucking happen,” Jared vehemently stated.
“—or I would have to choose another Heir. It is vampire-law.”
“Shite,” I uttered. I’d always known that Jared might be under some form of pressure to ‘do better’ than me, but I hadn’t imagined that he might lose his position. That wasn’t an acceptable path to me.
Wes growled. “Is there no way we could just kill her before she has the chance to
talk?”
“I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed,” said Jared. “She went over to those three moaners. Now she and Marcia keep looking over, smirking.”
Crap, crap, crap. “No prizes for guessing how this is going to play out.” And what else could we do but sit there and wait for the shit to start?
So we sat and we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. Not a bloody thing. “Do you think that maybe she hasn’t told anyone?”
Jared, who was holding my hand and massaging my pulse-point with his thumb, shrugged. “It could be that she’s trying to make us sweat, keep us wondering and worrying.”
“She does like mind games,” mused Luther.
“Let’s find out.” Keeping hold of my hand, Jared walked toward her with a determined stride that I saw made Magda hitch in a breath. Whether it was from arousal or anxiety, I wasn’t sure. “What the fuck is your game?” he demanded quietly.
The weird witch smiled at him and patted his chest. At his growl and my hiss, she dropped her hand. “There is no need to panic, Jared. I told you, I only wish you happiness. If I can be convinced over the next few evenings that you are happy with Sam, I will not reveal what I know.”
“I could just slit your throat now before you do,” he gritted out.
“You could…but I’m not the only one with the knowledge, so that will do you no good. Like I said, I simply want to be assured that you are content.”
He shook his head, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. “You’re playing some sort of game…I’m just not sure what it is yet.”
“Always so suspicious and eager to distrust those around you,” said Magda, shaking her head sadly before shooting me a smug smirk. Working those hips, she waltzed away. Oh I could kill that bitch happily if I didn’t know it would put Jared through absolute agony.
He turned to me. “What do we do now?”
“I agree with you, she’s up to something, but I don’t know what. So we wait.”
“I’m sick of waiting.”
I knew what he meant but was afraid to say aloud – he was sick of waiting for whatever changes were happening to me to finally take shape. “So am I, but what else can we do?” Nothing, there was nothing.
(Jared)
Sam was draped over me when I woke up after a restless sleep. Unable to resist touching her, I ran my hand along the length of her spine. My hand then crept lower and cupped her ass. I knew that fondling a sleeping person was a little low, but in my defence, it was the most luscious ass. I smiled as I recalled biting it. My smile widened as I remembered promising her I was going to fuck that ass one night, and she’d responded with, ‘You’d never catch my arse to fuck it’. She was probably right.
Then it all hit me. Reality hit me. Our problems hit me.
Those precious seconds I had each evening when I first woke up, thinking about nothing but the woman in my arms, were the best. For those few seconds, nothing was on my mind but her. Everything felt as normal as it usually was. For those few seconds, I forgot that we had more issues than we knew what to do with.
Feeling her stir, I tightened my arms around her. “Hey, sleep well?”
“I feel like I only shut my eyes ten minutes ago,” she mumbled against my chest.
I sighed. “I know what you mean.”
“Do you think we’ll hear from Ryder tonight?”
“I’m more worried about if Magda’s blabbed yet.”
“Maybe she’s telling the truth and she won’t say anything.”
I snorted. “Do you really believe that?”
“No, but a girl can dream.”
After we had both drank some NSTs, I followed her into the shower, where I took her hard like the good fiancé that I was. Hey, I’d take her slow if she didn’t always bitch at me to go faster.
After a few hours in our office, taking care of a couple of minor issues, we headed for the huge training arena for the evening’s entertainment; a gladiator-style dinner show. It was tradition that three of the High Masters would each pit five of their best legion members against the others in a series of events. It was usually pretty entertaining, so I was looking forward to it. I knew Sam was equally eager – anything with a little violence tended to keep her interested.
Inside, most of the guests were already seated, nibbling on the appetisers that had been laid out on the long counter-style tables. For the purpose of the show’s theme, the seating had been divided into four sections. One section was for Rowan’s bloodline as five members of his legion were partaking in the challenge. The second section was for Ricardo’s bloodline since his legion was also involved. The third section was for Bran’s bloodline, who usually won. And the fourth section was for all neutral parties.
Our particular seats were on the middle tier of the neutral section, giving us an excellent view. Seated closest to us were Evan, Antonio, Luther, Wes, Lena, Fletcher, and Norm.
Fletcher leaned in. “Widow Twankey’s sitting on Rowan’s side, next to Marcia. Have you noticed?”
“He’s talking about Magda,” explained Sam, having sensed my confusion.
“Maybe we’ve finally succeeded in alienating her.” Fletcher looked utterly delighted. “The paint pellets most likely helped with that.”
“And the chopstick incident,” said Norm, laughing.
Yeah, and that was what worried me. The last thing we needed was that woman to be extremely pissed off. But apparently news of Sam’s attempt at taking out Magda’s eye had gone around like wildfire…and everyone thought it was hilarious. And that Sam was a lunatic.
Magda wouldn’t exactly be happy to be the subject of a joke. Although…she looked quite happy right now. Excited, even.
Not willing to give that woman the satisfaction of ruining the evening for me with her ‘let’s keep them on eggshells game’ – honestly, what other game could it possibly be? – I switched my focus back to Sam. I kept that focus mostly on her as we watched the show. The first event, like the remaining seven, tested the strength and physical endurance of the contenders.
As I’d anticipated, Bran’s legion seemed to be the obvious winners right from the beginning, though Ricardo’s contenders weren’t too far behind in terms of points. Considering Bran was, for all intents and purposes, my uncle, I was obviously supporting him.
Not that I’d give my support to the other two bastards. I had to admit that I was really enjoying watching their faces turn various shades of purple each time their legion members lost at an event. Of course, I cheered along for Bran’s vampires with everyone else, gloating a little. I didn’t even care if that was petty. These guys had snubbed my fiancée, so fuck ’em.
After the eighth event, Rowan’s legion was eliminated from the challenge due to having the lowest amount of points. Out of Bran’s five contenders, the one in the fittest shape was selected to go against one of Ricardo’s vampires in the final, eliminating, challenge: a duel. Whichever side won the duel would win the overall contest.
Both vampires had impressive gifts, and the duel was filled with explosions, fire, bright lights, smoke, and rain. When Bran’s vampire won, cheers from both his section and our section filled the arena.
Only then was dessert finally served – the most amazing chocolate and caramel sundae, which I spoon-fed to a laughing Sam. Maybe that was why I hadn’t noticed Magda making her way down to the centre of the arena until she clapped to gain everybody’s attention.
Fletcher groaned. “Oh what’s that mental heifer doing now?”
“In honour of this tradition, I propose there be a friendly challenge between a guest and someone from the host’s side. Yes, ordinarily the hosts are left to be the hosts. But why not have a tiny duel to top the evening off? I would like to challenge…Miss Samantha Parker, the Heir’s fiancée.”
(Sam)
Oh joy. I heard all the mutterings and gasps around me, but I didn’t move my eyes from Magda. “So this is why she hasn’t told anyone. She planned to challenge me, knowing I couldn’
t properly defend myself.” If she had told people that I was weak, they wouldn’t have counted her win as a genuine one. “Bollocks.”
Norm guffawed. “What the hell is she thinking? With your gifts, she doesn’t have a chance. It’s like the wheel’s still turning but the hamster died a long time ago.” Well of course he would think that. He didn’t know about my current problem.
But Fletcher did, and he shrunk into his seat. “I don’t think I can watch. My heart can’t take it.”
“There’ll be nothing to watch,” stated Jared. “This is not going to happen.”
I grabbed Jared’s arm. “I have to do it. If I don’t accept the challenge, I’ll look weak.”
He cupped my chin. “And if you do accept it, you’ll look weak. You can’t win this, not without your gifts. You’re strong, baby – so damn strong – but she’s a Pagori. Biology makes her stronger than you.”
“But not more agile. Maybe I can play on that.” I had at the try-outs, and it had worked then.
“Actually, I have an idea,” said Antonio. To Magda, he called out, “Your proposal to honour the tradition is a good one. But I feel that a challenge with Sam would be unfair to you, for she has very offensive gifts.”
“As do I,” said Magda, just as her arm melted into a blade.
I winced. “Not. Good.”
“My Sire was a Bestower, like yourself, your Grandness,” explained Magda. “He once bestowed another gift upon me.”
And wasn’t that just wonderful. The fact was that she had boxed me into a corner. If I didn’t come out clawing, it would be totally against my nature. But I wasn’t too keen on having that blade piercing through my body. She wouldn’t kill me, couldn’t, but she would make a spectacle out of me.
Jared was right; she was a lot stronger, and there was every chance that I wouldn’t beat her. But there was also a chance that I would, because there was more to duelling than the physical side of things. A good strategy was just as important. And Magda wasn’t exactly a full shilling, was she? Strategizing wouldn’t be her strong point.
In any case, I didn’t have a choice. Sighing, I went to stand but Jared put a restraining hand on my thigh. “Baby, don’t.”
The Bite That Binds diyv-2 Page 19
