His Dark Bond (16 page)

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Authors: Anne Marsh

BOOK: His Dark Bond
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“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.” She bit out the words.
As he fought through the red haze of the soul thirst, her too-pale face wavered in front of him. God. Had she swayed? He’d taken too much. If they’d been in a skyscraper instead of a mere twelve floors up, she’d have been dead.
Nael murmured something, low and hard, into her ear, and she turned all that hot anger on his brother. “No,” she said. “Shut up for a minute, and listen to me.”
Brother didn’t like it, but he paused. Vkhin was falling back to the elevator’s perimeter, fingering a throwing star. They both knew that if Zer was truly lost, there wasn’t a blade in the club that could stop him in time. Instead, she’d be the bait that held him in place until they could figure out the best way to take off his head.
“I want to talk to him,” she said, louder. Nael cursed but let her go. She took a step toward Zer and stopped. The rogue raged at being deprived of its feast, but the man was relieved. She was scared of him, and that was good.
“You should kill me.” He stared at her, unblinking, as he finally gave her the truth. “Ask my brothers. They will do it for you.”
“Ask to have you killed?” She looked as if she couldn’t believe those words were leaving her mouth, and he knew he’d stood her familiar world on its head. She was never going back to that safe, mundane world. He couldn’t give her that, couldn’t make that happen for her.
“Yeah.” He nodded his head. “You’re not strong enough to do it youself.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll make a note of that little offer, and, if you ever screw with my life again, I’ll speed-dial Vkhin.”
He eyed her. “You do realize that I almost killed you?”
“No,” she said in that smooth, liquid-chocolate voice. “I didn’t notice that. What I did notice was the hottest damned orgasm of my life. So, no complaints on my part.” She cocked a hand on her hip and glared up at him. “Except for the part where you treat me like a convenience store. I’m damned tired of this touch-me-not thing you’ve got going on.”
Fine. So, she didn’t understand what he was capable of. He’d send her the manual later on.
After
she’d selected one of his brothers for her soul mate. Then, she’d understand the danger she’d skirted. He didn’t have any soul left to offer her because he was 100 percent cold, hard killer, and even he knew she deserved better.
Scooping up her panties from the elevator floor, he slid it into his pocket. “Souvenir.”
Souvenir.
From the French,
to remember,
he thought, and he stepped out onto the club floor.
C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN
C
inderella in a ballroom that had taken a darkly erotic turn—that was her. Maybe it should have been enough. God knew, it would have been for most women. Hot sex and an even hotter favor—she should have been all sign-me-up, but instead she was scanning for the exit. An exit that she wasn’t spotting because a hot press of male bodies surrounded her. For just a moment, she felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs by too many bodies crowding into her space, but then Nael’s hand, hot and hard and strangely comforting, found the small of her back. When she hesitated, his thumb rubbed a small, soothing circle over the base of her spine. Anchoring her. She needed to leave, needed to get out of here and reclaim her life. Instead, she took another step out onto the dance floor.
“Guard her back,” Zer snapped. “Midnight,” he warned. “She chooses at midnight,” he growled, and he strode off, leaving Nael and Vkhin flanking her like a damned honor guard. Whom did she need protecting from? Him? Or the clubful of males who turned to stare at her with hot, assessing eyes as she stepped away from the brightly lit cage of the elevator.
“This is not a silent auction. He can’t make me do this.” He couldn’t.
Nael didn’t say anything. Maybe Zer could. Maybe he had some ace up his sleeve she hadn’t considered.
“Come meet them, love. Just take a look. They’ve come all this way to meet you. See you. You can’t send them home now,” Nael finally murmured.
This wasn’t her fault. The twinge of guilt she felt was irrational.
The first pair of males to greet her were pure fantasy, dark and feral. There was no mistaking the strength of the bodies lurking beneath the leather and blades. The dark tats were warning enough.
“Will you dance with us?” The Fallen standing opposite her extended his hand. She stared at it blindly.
Dance?
She didn’t dance, not that what she was seeing on the club’s dance floor resembled any dance she’d ever been taught. Liquid sex. A seething pool of bodies moving sinuously together. Male. Female. Human. Paranormal. All tangled up together in a delicious, hot maelstrom of beat and sound.
“No,” she blurted out before stopping to consider her words. “I don’t dance.” Desperately, she sucked in air like a smoker in need of an overdue fix. For an endless moment, the air refused to go down, her throat closing until she would have sworn she was drowning.
A hard hand pressed against the small of her back, preventing her from stepping back into the elevator and then the doors closed, and the elevator vanished. For a moment, she was temporarily night blind, aware of nothing but scents and sounds, the bone-melting pulse of the music and the primal slide of leather, blades, and booted feet.
“Dance with them. You do this, Nessa,” Nael said encouragingly. Too bad he hadn’t been the one to introduce her to the Fallen. Maybe then, she’d have wanted to accept their dark offer. She didn’t kid herself that Nael was safe—hell, none of them was safe—but she knew instinctively that Nael genuinely liked women. He wouldn’t hurt her, no matter what it cost him. Nael was nice—and he was alone, despite the female company surrounding him. She shot him a small smile. Yeah. He was a good man, even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“Not too nice,” he warned, reading the message in her eyes. “Don’t ever make that mistake. I’ll take what I can. We both know that.”
His hand urged her forward, and she let herself walk. Each step made her acutely aware of the sensual slide of her dress’s fabric against her bare, heated skin. Of the sexy saunter those four-inch heels lent her. Music washed over her, through her, the driving, electronic beat almost tangible. The unrelenting sound created a strangely intimate cocoon around her and the males nearest her. All moving to the same beat, she thought. The temptation to give in, to blend in, was overwhelming. They
wanted
her in a way no one else ever had.
So why not dance?
Why not enjoy this one moment before she went back to her everyday life?
 
Nael urged his sire’s female forward, wishing she’d been for sale like the many females he’d seduced in G2’s. Nessa St. James was different, and, in this case, different meant trouble.
“Dance with me, baby.” He made his request in a low voice that he knew most humans adored.
“This isn’t dancing.” She eyed the dance floor skeptically, but her feet, he noticed, were moving forward, so he was getting what he needed.
“It isn’t?” He eyed two of the nearest Fallen, shaking his head curtly when they moved in too quickly. Nessa was skittish, which meant she was just as smart as he’d suspected.
“No,” she said, her brain working overtime. At his subtle signal, her other Fallen watchdog stepped closer. He moved sinuously to the raw beat of the music, his shirt already unbuttoned. “This is spawning, Nael.”
He laughed softly, stepping up behind her. Closing off her exit. “You could be right,” he admitted. “We’re sensual creatures, my Nessa. We love females. Love touching.”
Twisting her head around, she stared up at him. That curiosity in her eyes, the soft, heated flush of her skin was an aphrodisiac for his kind. The beat of the music pulsed through him. Since he couldn’t lose himself in the female on the dance floor, he let the raw beat tear through his senses. Felt the rhythm ripping through the floor. The air.
“Why?” she asked
He shrugged and reached for her hips, pulling her loosely back against his body. Damned if he’d play the saint tonight. He whored, and he hated himself for it, but it was necessary. He’d sworn to protect his sire, and that was what he did, body and soul. “When we’re with you, we
feel,
Nessa. We can’t feel most emotions anymore. It was one of the conditions of the Fall.” Michael had ripped all the softer, gentler emotions out of them along with their wings.
Another dancer glided closer, hips swaying with the sensual beat and a raw masculinity. Not touching Nessa, not yet. But he was in her space, and nothing could conceal the heated power rolling off the male in waves.
Normally, Nael would have shared with the other male. Or would have carried away the prize. It didn’t really matter which way things went down. One of them would have the female, or they both would, depending on how she liked it. Tonight, though, either option bothered him. Reminded him that anonymous sex in a nightclub wasn’t really a substitute for the emotions he’d lost. Those cold eyes must have warned the other dancer off, because he slipped away into the crowd, and another took his place.
“You have sex to feel,” she said thoughtfully. Her gaze slid away from his, but not, he realized, because she was put off. Or disgusted. No, Nessa St. James was thinking his statements through and coming to logical conclusions. “What happens if you don’t?”
“Don’t have sex?” He smiled, a lazy, sensual quirk of his mouth. “Why, Nessa, love, you know what happens when a male doesn’t have sex.”
She stared up at him impatiently, but she didn’t stop the sensual glide-and-dip of her hips. “Don’t mince words with me, Nael. Neither of us is talking about sexual frustration. What happens to you if you don’t find a partner?”
What would happen if he told her? Hell, she was more than halfway to figuring it out already.
Zer had dangled the carrot of a soul mate in front of him, and, even though he’d known he didn’t deserve that, he wanted it. Wanted
her.
Christ, yes. He’d
felt
that flicker of hope, even as he’d tamped it down. Every male here had to be reacting to Nessa St. James. She was a beautiful female, inside and out, and he recognized that.
But she wasn’t for him. So, he gave her part of the truth. “We go mad, love.” He stroked the bare skin of her forearm, drinking in the sensual catch of her breath. “Cut a male off from sensations, from emotions, for too long, and he goes mad.”
She licked her lips. “Literally?”
She didn’t need to know about the inner rogue they were all hauling around. Not yet. She’d have heard rumors, of course, but he wasn’t going to be the one handing her cold, hard facts. So, he confirmed her suspicion rather than give her the truth, let her fill in the blanks in a way she could handle. “Yeah. Literally.”
Her hand came up, covered his. He kept up the gentle stroking. Damn, she was soft. Sweet.
“You want me,” she guessed, and then she looked embarrassed. As if she truly didn’t understand that the entire club was just waiting for her to make her choice and that any one of them would be honored to be so chosen.
“Yes,” he growled, and he considered kissing her. Just once. She was waking up, feeling the possibilities. Zer was watching, though, and she could be a match for his sire. Had to be a match for his sire. If his sire found a soul mate, then Nael would be free. There would be no more need to let Zer feed through him.
She was a beautiful female, and he recognized that. Couldn’t
not
recognize that. But she wasn’t for him. Still, he allowed himself the small pleasure of stroking the bare skin of her forearm again. The sensual catch in her breathing delighted him..
“Chemical reaction,” she whispered. This time, her hand gently moved his away.
Right. This was biology and nothing more. He’d fuck her if the opportunity arose and if it was what Zer wanted, but he’d never be more than a third in their pairing. What she had with his brother was more than neurons and pheromones. It was a connection between souls, even if neither of them was ready to accept that truth.
“Yeah,” he agreed, but he wondered if she could even hear his hoarse whisper over the driving beat of the music. Something unspoken in her eyes told him, however, that she’d gotten his message loud and clear.
“Just dance with me,” she said, her hands reaching behind her to pull him closer.
 
Stepping up to the plate was activity number one on tonight’s agenda.
Unfortunately, what Zer’s mind knew and had accepted was not the message his unruly cock had received. No, that poor bastard had decided to stake a claim on Nessa St. James.
As Zer saw it, his cock was doomed to disappointment.
He didn’t want a soul mate, and it was damned certain Nessa didn’t want him, certainly not for forever. Hell, she still thought she had an out clause on tonight’s bond. The one thing he didn’t envy her new soul mate was explaining the situation to her. And, eventually, explanations would become necessary. There was only so long they could keep her in the dark; plus, Brends’s own soul mate was chafing at the bit. She’d urged complete disclosure from the get-go, but they’d shot her down.
Last he’d heard, Mischka still wasn’t talking to the lot of them.
So, he had to step up to the plate. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of the duster, he wrapped his fingers around a pair of throwing stars and strode back into the club. Well, Nessa wasn’t going to pick him, so all he really had to do tonight was throw her to the wolves and stand back to watch the ensuing festivities.
Yeah, and witness her bonding
.
Looking up, he spotted her dancing. Nael had his hands wrapped over her hips, and the two of them were locked together in a sensual two-step.
Nael was a good male. He deserved Nessa St. James.
Zer was fucking happy for him.
He really was.
 
The male dancing with her was sexier than sin, but that was probably the whole point of this exercise. He didn’t really want to be here, didn’t really want to be touching her. Something about her bothered Nael, and damned if she was going to sweat it. She’d seen him indiscriminately whoring himself out in the club, so whatever was bothering him now was something deeper than she wanted to deal with.
She shouldn’t feel sorry for him.
He’d eat her alive without realizing it, and she’d be left picking up the pieces of her life. Still, he felt good. Warm and solid at her back. A girl could do worse, she supposed, but the situation still made her angry.
She focused on that hot, slow pulse of anger, pushing aside the unwelcome sensuality of the dance floor.
She’d been forced into this predicament. It was all Zer’s fault, she decided. He was a sexy alpha dictator—but he was still a dictator. And a consummate seducer. That made her even more mad. He’d aroused her in the elevator, and then he’d left her—making it perfectly clear he didn’t want her even if she came gift-wrapped. She flicked a wry glance over her getup. And damn if she hadn’t been gift-wrapped for someone in this club.
She wasn’t hurt, she decided. She wouldn’t let him make her feel that way. Any more than she’d let him force her into this bond of his.
He’d pushed her around, jeopardized her career. And she didn’t like the way he made her feel—edgy and aroused and needy. But it was simply a chemical reaction, so she should have been able to pick any one of the other males, right? Wrong. Nael, for all his sexy dance moves, didn’t do it for her. Instead, she’d already caught herself scanning the shadows of the club, looking for Zer. He wasn’t the kind of male to be dominating a dance floor. No, he’d hang back and watch.

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