His Dark Bond (15 page)

Read His Dark Bond Online

Authors: Anne Marsh

BOOK: His Dark Bond
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“Yeah.” Vkhin stroked a thumb over the blade at his waist. “She get a good look?”
No need to ask who the
she
was. Cold stillness radiated from Vkhin as the brother pulled on his leather gloves. Ready to hunt.
“She did.” Zer discovered he didn’t like the memory of her paling, but she hadn’t puked her guts out. He’d give her that. He’d be willing to bet she’d never seen a dead body outside of a laboratory before. Her face had gone marble-still, those brown eyes of hers widening impossibly in her face. Yeah, she’d gotten a real good look.
“Which way?”
“North. Keros is bringing our satellites online now. If the bastard’s on the surface streets, we’ll have him.”
Vkhin nodded curtly, running the calculations in his head. “Time of death?” Cuthah had played with his catch for a few minutes. That much was clear.
“Last hour.” Body was already cool, but between the weather and the tearing, the heat would have gone fast. “Her legs aren’t bruising yet.” No discoloration meant her killer had finished his work here in less than a two-hour window.
“Good to know.” Vkhin strode off, eyes quartering the ground, all his senses on high alert. “I’ll lead the hunting party.”
“You do that.” Vkhin wasn’t looking for Zer’s blessing, but Zer gave it anyway. Made him feel like he had some purpose out here other than being the figurehead leader watching as the Fallen split off into hunting parties and disappeared into the shadows.
“This is a nightmare,” she said hoarsely. “How do you live like this every day?”
He fingered the blade at his side and wondered if she really wanted the truth.
“Do they hunt every day in M City?” She touched her hair, tucking an errant strand back into her chignon. He’d let that delicious, heavy weight sift through his fingers when he’d held her in his arms.
“They do if we let them.”
“And do you?” Her eyes stared up at him. “Do you let them hunt here, Zer, in my world? Why would you do that?”
Because he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and, sometimes, there was no stopping what amounted to a force of nature. “I do my best,” he said quietly. The snow that was starting to fall muted the sound of his booted feet as he urged her back toward their waiting car. It was bone-cold now, in the hours between midnight and sunrise. She should have a scarf. A hat. Something to keep her warm. Cashmere suited her, so he’d get her some more.
“It doesn’t always work out, does it?” she said quietly. Her feet crunched over the snow beside him. She made no attempt to muffle her footsteps, to deaden the sound that would alert a predator to her approach. He wanted to protect her from the new world she’d discovered, but that world already knew she was here.
“No,” he admitted. “Sometimes, a rogue is just lucky or fast.”
“So, what are you going to do about this?”
“Vkhin is the best hunter we have. If anyone can track Cuthah, he can. He’ll do what needs to be done, but Cuthah’s outmaneuvered us so far. He’s got wings, and we don’t.”
“Is Vkhin in danger?” The genuine concern coloring her voice was strangely warming. Maybe Vkhin could be the one for her.
“No. Vkhin’s good. He’s hunted for millennia, and he’ll hunt for millennia more.”
“That’s a long time.” She shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket. “You don’t think he’ll get tired? Or careless? You guys ever slip up, Zer?”
All the time. She just didn’t know how badly. “He’s a hunter,” he repeated carefully. “This is what he does. What we all do. We’re not going anywhere—those were the terms of the deal.” The punishment.
“Right,” she said. “Eternal banishment to this world. No more living in the Heavens for you. There’s no way to go back?”
“Not yet.” She shot him a glance. He could tell her the truth, but then she’d know what hand she held. Her price would shoot up, and, possibly, she’d refuse. He wouldn’t blame her for refusing to bond with one of them for eternity. So, he couldn’t tell her the truth: that she was more than just any bond mate. She was going to be a soul mate, the key to returning the wings and soul to one of Zer’s males. “You think we wouldn’t grab a return ticket with both hands, baby? We’re not going anywhere.” Not yet. Not without her help and not without their wings.
“So, instead, you live down here, with us.” She nodded, as if the pieces of an invisible puzzle were slotting into place. “And you’re weekend warriors, taking out your own when you have to.”
“Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse, even to his own ears.
“That must be hard.” She swallowed. “If you know them from before. Did you know the rogue who came after me yesterday, Zer?”
“No.” He gave her that truth. “There were many of us who Fell. I didn’t know them all, but, yeah, it’s happened before. Sometimes, the thirst is too much to bear, and we lose another of the Fallen.” Reaching out, he gave in to the urge to snag her hand, wrapping those delicate fingers in his own leather-gloved ones. “I’ve hunted my brothers before, known their names when I gave them eternal peace.”
Her eyes were distant. “And now you want my help with this.”
“I do.” Truth again.
“Can I get out of this? Is there any way to convince these rogues to stop coming after me and mine?”
There wasn’t. Although, even if he’d known how to stop the attacks, he might not have told her. He needed her to help him. Had to have that help no matter what it cost. He shook his head silently.
“I could leave now,” she said quietly. She motioned toward the MVD techs futilely processing the scene for evidence. Their human technology was no match for what Cuthah had loosed on M City. “I could go with them.”
He wouldn’t let her leave. Still, he didn’t want to strip the illusion of choice from her. Not until he had to. Then she shrugged and smiled, a lost little smile. “But that wouldn’t make sense, would it?
They
can’t protect me from what’s coming.
You
can.” She rubbed her arms with her hands. “You’re the only chance I really have of surviving this, aren’t you?”
“I promise that no one will get to you.”
“
Can
you promise?”
He couldn’t. There were no absolutes. Instead, he dipped his head, pressed a hard, possessive kiss against her lips. “I can promise this,” he said gruffly. “Cuthah doesn’t get to you—the Archangel himself doesn’t get to you—unless they come through all of the Fallen. You belong to us, baby. We’re keeping you safe.”
“You’ve fought Michael before?”
“Yeah.” And lost.
She looked him up and down. “Two arms. Two legs. Guess it could have gone worse for you.”
He wanted to kiss that sassy mouth. Watch her wrap those long legs around his waist. Yeah, and if wishes were dreams, beggars would ride, right? She didn’t want any part of him and he—well, he just needed to use her.
“Michael won,” he bit out. Admitting his failure burned, but there was no avoiding the truth. Here he was, wingless and cast out. And there Michael was, the bloody Archangel of the Heavens, in charge of defending the Celestial throne. Yeah. Pretty damn clear who had come out on top of that one. Michael was the golden boy.
But that was going to change.
Eyes narrowing, he assessed the female glaring at him. “This time,” he said, folding his arms over his chest before he did something he’d regret, “will be different.”
“Really.” The dry tone of her voice conveyed more clearly than words that she wasn’t buying anything he was selling. “You went after this guy before. You lost. What makes you think that picture’s changed any?”
You,
he thought.
You’re my ace in the hole.
Telling her the truth, however, would give her the upper hand in their exchange. “Motivation?” he suggested lightly.
“Right. One supernatural ass-kicking. A little skin-and-bones mutilation resulting in the loss of your wings.” She ticked the offending items off on her fingers as if they were a damned shopping list. Having picked up the bread, she moved on to the milk. “Now, you’re down here—and he’s up
there
. Or whatever metaphysical, invisible-but-you-swear-it-exists plane you’re keeping the otherworld corralled in these days. Pardon me if I don’t find your logic convincing.”
The moon above them spilled silver light down onto the scene, the yellow police tape that hadn’t changed color in a hundred years. From the huddle of students held back by that flimsy barrier, he scented fear. Titillation and curiosity.
He stepped up, deliberately crowding her body with his. Face-to-face, he smiled, slow and hard. “This time, I win, baby.”
C
HAPTER
T
EN
T
he damned dress didn’t have a single fastening—except for the row of decorative little red satin-covered buttons that marched down her corseted front. Nessa looked like a hooker. A very, very expensive hooker. No way she could blend in to the woodwork in this outfit.
Zer bet she hated that.
Watching her walk down the hallway toward him was pure torture, worse than the three days it had taken for this night to finally arrive. The shimmering red fabric clung to her thighs, and the dress was nothing—nothing—like the business clothes she’d had on when he’d taken her. Thank God. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to tonight, to giving her away. Without taking his eyes off her, he punched the button on the panel behind him. The sooner the elevator got here, the better. He’d feel calmer once they were both downstairs and he had her on the club floor.
The elevator arrived, and he placed his body before the doors. Just in case something end-of-the-world had happened downstairs in the club and he hadn’t heard of it. Clear. He stepped back, itching for a fight.
She stepped into the elevator cage, angling her body to squeeze past him.
She inhaled—deeply—and that squeezed those breasts of hers up over the top of the damn corset. He’d spent time choosing his cologne for tonight’s rave—for her—but fortunately he didn’t have to admit that weakness. He didn’t want her to think he was dressing for her. Even if he was.
Two hours—three, tops—and he’d be free and clear, and Nessa St. James would be a soul mate. One of his brothers would be buried deep in all that hot heat, and she’d have her life back on track. Except that she’d be bound for all eternity to one of
them
.
“Ready to go?” Those weren’t the words he wanted to give her. No, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to reassure her. Promise her that whichever male she chose tonight would value her above all others.
If he didn’t, Zer would see to it personally.
“I get my life back,” she said.
She inhaled again, the pearly smooth skin moving away from the wicked bodice of her dress and then pressing against the stiff fabric as she exhaled sharply. He wanted to follow the motion with his tongue.
“I want my life back. And this is the only way,” she acknowledged.
She had no idea.
The doors slid shut, sealing them in.
 
Zer was too damn big. He filled the elevator’s small space, crowding her. She suspected it was deliberate.
“Get out of my way,” she said tightly. “I’m doing this, just like you wanted.” His too-large body effectively stole any breathing room. This close, she could smell the heat of his body and some spicier, masculine scent. Danger. He smelled dangerous, and she wasn’t stupid. She was going to run the other way and not look back. Wasn’t she?
“You’re dangerous,” she said. “You’re a killer. I got the message.” He didn’t deny it, and she wondered if she’d foolishly hoped that he would.
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.
Why was he staring at her like that? It had to be the dress, but since he’d chosen it, fussing like a girlfriend over the fit and the color, she figured it couldn’t be such a surprise. He’d gift-wrapped her for his brothers, so he ought to like what he saw.
He must have a closet full of leather himself, because she’d never seen him dressed in anything else. Easy shopping, sure, but it had to be hell on the laundry bill. God, she was babbling. In her head. So, she was nervous.
“But you’re not the worst killer out there. I got that, too.” He was still staring at her, though, so she babbled on. “I understand Cuthah has to be stopped.”
“That’s altruistic of you,” he growled. “Has nothing to do with your genetic studies, does it?”
“Fuck you,” she cursed. “You don’t get to question my reasons for doing this.”
“So, you’ll choose one of my brothers ... to bond with?”
“What choice do I have, really? I want to help you stop Cuthah.” So far Vkhin had had no luck tracking him down.
“Stopping Cuthah. That your only reason?” He’d badgered her into doing this, and now he wanted to argue about her reasons? She didn’t think so. Her reasons were her own and none of his damned business.
“Well, it’s certainly not because I want some Goblin favor.”
“He’ll be good to you.”
“Who?”
“Whoever you choose,” he promised her. “He’ll worship the ground you walk on. You’ll be his sun, moon, and stars.”
Her throat closed up. Panic. That was too much. She wasn’t ready to be the center of anyone’s universe. He moved closer to her, and she reached out a hand before she could stop herself. There were iron muscles beneath the expensive fabric of his sleeve and a hard, unyielding ridge of metal. He had blades strapped to his forearms. The ink there teased her, dark bands of black escaping the edge of his sleeve.
“I don’t know if I
can
do this,” she said, giving him honesty because he deserved that much from her. Just because she wanted to do the right thing didn’t mean she’d actually be able to follow through. The whole leaping-to-your-death thing only worked if you actually managed to clear the ledge and get into the air. Still, the elevator was purring smoothly downward, and that was a step in the right direction, even if it did seem to be taking Zer’s gaze with it. Those dark eyes stopped on the impossibly high heels he’d insisted on. She liked them. They made her feel sexy. Plus, she knew he’d expected her to protest.
So, to keep
him
off balance, she hadn’t.
“Why’d you do this?” She touched the dark ink as he stabbed the elevator’s stop button.
A confused look crossed his face. Clearly, he’d expected her to protest the elevator’s halt. “The ink? No reason.”
She drew a finger over the dark swirls. “They look like the bonding mark.”
“I don’t bond with anyone.”
“But no woman’s going to ask, is she?” Her eyes narrowed. “You tattooed a keep-away sign right there.”
He didn’t answer, but she knew she was right. “The others take bond mates. Why don’t you?”
“It wouldn’t be safe.”
“You like my shoes?” Was that her voice that sounded so breathless?
He looked baffled and adorably male at her abrupt topic switch. “Yeah,” he said as if she’d asked him a complicated genetics question. “Yeah, I do.” He cleared his throat and yanked his gaze up from her ankles.
“You like my dress?” She smoothed a hand over her hip and knew she was teasing the beast, but anything to stop time for another few seconds.
“You look beautiful.” The look in his eyes was indecipherable. “He’ll love you,” he promised.
He sounded gruffly tender. As if he was worried about her, which was impossible. He didn’t want her, had made that perfectly clear, but she couldn’t stop pushing him. Pushing herself.
“So, are you going to get in line?” She embraced the flicker of anger she felt. That heat felt so much better than the cold ball of terror growing in her stomach.
He shook his head. “You know I’m not. I’m too close to the Change, baby, and you make me want to go right on over that edge.”
“What’s the Change?”
“You don’t want to know,” he countered. “But I’m not up for grabs. You choose anyone else you want down there.”
“Anyone but you.” When he didn’t answer, she pushed on. “You don’t want me to be your bond mate?”
“There’s no redeeming me, baby,” he warned. “I’m no makeover project.”
She felt an unfamiliar stab of emotion at thought of this male being lost forever.
Stop it
. “Why not?”
His answer was a lazy drawl. “Captain goes down with the ship, baby. You know that. My brothers deserve redemption, and I’m going to make damn sure they get it. That they get
you
.”
“What if I don’t want to be the door prize?” She glared up at him.
 
Zer slammed the button to start the elevator again.
Those too-innocent doe eyes of hers stared at him, dissecting him like an unfamiliar living specimen. Did she like what she saw? It didn’t matter. He was way past redemption and even more beyond all that touchy-feely, come-into-the-light-my-son bullshit. When Michael had kicked his ass out of the Heavens, he’d thrown away the key, and Zer didn’t give a damn. He’d stand on his own two feet.
“Don’t push me,” he growled. “In twelve floors, you’re rid of me. Until then, you’re all mine, baby.” Hell, yeah.
“Oh, no, I’m not,” she taunted.
He was going to take this one last opportunity to touch her before he handed her over. Bracing her against the wall, he planted his hands on either side of her face. His stance was dominating. Hard. He had twelve floors, and he was going to use them.
He didn’t taste her mouth at first. Instead, he traced a hot, damp path over her skin with his tongue, exploring the curve of her ear like a Tartar lord exploring the virgin expanse of the Russian steppes before he unleashed a flood of ruthless warriors. He gave the trembling flesh a hot lick.
His wicked tongue stroked, penetrated. He knew she’d want to tell him no, that she’d know five good reasons she should, but he also knew she’d been alone a long time, and he’d been created for this. So damned good. He could feel her body softening for him, welcoming his seduction.
His teeth nipping at her earlobe brought a moan to her lips.
“You like that,” he said with masculine satisfaction. “The pleasure—or the pain, baby?”
He curled his hands against hers, pinning her in place.
Parted her thighs with a leather-clad thigh, sliding home between them and sheathing himself there in raw simulation of the sex act. The intimate sound of her skirt sliding upward, the whisper of lace and silk as she parted for him, filled the heated silence of the elevator. God. She wanted
him
. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, but he had to have her. Just for a few minutes. Then he’d let her go.
She melted into him, and he brought his mouth down on hers, his tongue stroking along the closed seam of her lips. Sweeping in. Conqueror. Just like a hundred kisses before. Practiced. Nothing could have prepared him for the hot, sweet taste of the female in his arms, the unique scent of her. She was different.
Her mouth opened deeper beneath his. She took a breath.
No
. No protests. Not yet, not when he had to stop in just a minute. Wrapping both her small hands in one of his, he let his other hand trace a slow, deliberate path down her body. She was all liquid heat in his arms. Tenth floor, his brain dimly registered. They were on the tenth floor. He still had time.
“Zer,” she whispered into his mouth. No protest. Just sweet, hot welcome.
“Don’t think,” he urged, lifting his mouth from hers. “Just feel. Just for a minute. Close your eyes, and feel for me, baby.”
A minute was all he could afford. The beast in him was already lifting its head, and he knew his eyes were glowing. Her lashes drifted obediently shut.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “See if you like this, baby.”
Sliding his fingers up her creamy thigh, he dipped into her hot, wet sex. Stroked a wicked path around her straining clit and the heat and damp soaking through her panties.
“You’re as wicked as I am,” he rumbled.
“Don’t stop,” she demanded. “Don’t you dare stop now.” Fifth floor. Armageddon couldn’t have stopped him now.
Deliberately, he ripped the panties from her, letting the delicate scrap of fabric slip between his fingers.
Mine.
His mouth swallowed her cry of pleasure, and she rode his fingers hard, arching delicately into his palm. He could feel those sharp flutters of pleasure rippling through her pussy. God, she was coming for him.
He lost himself in her pleasure, opening up all his senses and drinking her down, down, down. She was vintage Champagne, and, like the worst of alcoholics, he didn’t care. He only wanted more of her and wanted that more now.
The man groaned into her mouth, but the rogue growled with satisfaction.
Taking.
Her essence, her soul, flowing from her in deliciously seductive tendrils, and he wasn’t stopping, couldn’t stop.
 
With an almost imperceptible jolt, the elevator hit bottom, and he moved his hand, but not the rest of his body. The doors glided apart smoothly, opening up on to the club floor, and then it was all Armageddon. Nael’s hands pulled implacably on him, as Vkhin’s weapons left their sheaths with a lethal hiss.
I’m a monster,
he thought, and he forced himself to move away. To hug the wall on the far side of the elevator’s narrow cage. Nael’s hands wrapping around the smooth white flesh of Nessa’s upper arms made him growl, low and deep in his throat, and then she was pushing those hands away.

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