Hostage to Pleasure (44 page)

“You’re doing fine.”

“But see, Dorian, I know one thing.” She pressed her hand to his chest. “There are two huge hurts in you. You let yourself cry for Kylie but you’ve never let yourself face the other loss.”

The way she’d simply accepted Kylie’s memory as a part of their lives made him love his mate even more. “You accepted my sister,” she’d said when he’d asked her about it one night, “how can I possibly do any less for yours?”

His guilt, too, was gone. It had burned away during that same conversation—when he’d told Ashaya about Kylie’s fierce spirit. “She hated bullies,” he’d said. “She was ten years old when she saw some kids picking on another boy at school. She flew at them, scratched them up, got into trouble for fighting. But she didn’t care. She made friends with that kid, stuck with him until his family moved to another town.”

“Such a big heart she had,” Ashaya had murmured. “Such a beautiful heart.”

That was when he’d heard Kylie’s laughter in his mind, seen her chiding face.

He’d finally understood that his sister, with her huge heart, would never have wanted him to feel guilty about this beautiful, perfect thing called the mating bond. That simple knowledge had given him a powerful kind of peace.

But Ashaya was right; as far as his latency went, he’d never even tried for peace. “If I mourn for it,” he said to her now, releasing the vicious control that had allowed him to survive as a child without half his soul, “then I admit it’s gone forever. I don’t want to do that, Shaya. I don’t want to tell my leopard that it’s going to be trapped inside me until death. I don’t want to think of it as a separate being. I want to be complete.”

Ashaya nodded, eyes shiny. “I’ve got it almost ready to go. I thought I should be prepared in case you—”

“Let’s do it. Soon as you’ve finalized everything.” The decision was made. “That way, we’ll know quicker if it doesn’t work.”

A burst of panic in Ashaya’s eyes. “Dorian, I’m so sure but what if—”

“Then I go on,” he said. “At least we’d know that we tried. No regrets.”

A jerky nod. “No regrets.”

And he knew that the words were true. No matter what happened with the trapped animal inside his body, both cat and man were one in this moment, in this truth. Ashaya Aleine was his. And he was hers. Leopard and man. Man and leopard. All of him.

EPILOGUE

 
—From the encrypted personal files of Ashaya Aleine

 
 
Dorian was not in a good mood. The cat still trapped in his body was clawing at him, his mind was full of growls and other leopard crap he didn’t want to deal with, and his favorite rifle had just broken. “Shaya!”

His mate poked her head out from the tent where she’d been sitting. Taking her and Keenan camping had been his idea. Noor had tagged along. Oddly, of the two adults, it was Ashaya who was enjoying herself the most. Even the organizer only came out when she wanted to write about her experiences—in a journal she refused to let him read.

“Shh,” she said, “our son is having a nap with his girlfriend.” She took in his mud-splattered clothing. “Oh, dear.”

He muttered a few choice words. “Towel.” He’d dunked his entire body, clothes and all, in a nearby stream, washing off most of the mud, but he was soaking wet.

Making an expressive face at his tone, she grabbed a towel from one of the packs and came out. “Stop giving in to your mean side.” She began to dry his hair while he used the other end of the towel to wipe his face.

Dropping the towel the second it was done, he snaked out an arm and slammed her to his chest. “Put me in a better mood then.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll strip naked and lie in the sun once we get home and our son is out visiting his friends. Happy?”

He grinned, his bad mood disappearing at the speed of light. “Hell, yeah.”

Her lips twitched. Ashaya was still learning to laugh but he knew when his mate was happy. Leaning in, he stole a kiss. “What if I get naked and lie with you?”

Her lips parted. “Oh, then I’d
definitely
be ready to do you all sorts of favors.”

God, he loved the way she reacted to him. Bending his head, he stole another kiss before she pulled back and glanced down. “You made me wet.” Her nipples stood out hard and tight against the fabric of her T-shirt.

He felt like purring, he was so damn pleased with himself for having this sexy woman for his mate. “Maybe you’d better hang it up to dry.”

“One-track mind.”

“Thank you very much.”

Smile widening, she wiggled out of his arms. “Children, remember?”

“They sleep soundly.” He thought back to the previous night, to how she’d snuck out with him. The interlude had been a whole lot of fun.

It had also been a chance to talk. Ashaya’s guilt had been eating
him
alive. He’d finally loved her into exhaustion and told her to stop it. “We tried, Shaya. It didn’t work. I’m disappointed but I didn’t lose anything.”

“Your hopes,” she’d begun.

“I have you. I have Keenan. I’m happy.” It was the truth. Damn but she made him happy.

“You hurt,” she’d insisted.

“I did,” he’d acknowledged, because he couldn’t lie to her. “It hurt like a bitch when I realized the therapy wasn’t working, but then I got over it. I’m not the moping kind.”

Her face had softened. “No, you’re not. You just get out and find a way to deal.”

Looking at her now, he could tell that she still wasn’t feeling completely okay with the way things had turned out, but time would fix that. “Is there any coffee?” he asked as she grabbed clothes for him from inside the tent.

“I’ll make you some while you change.” She threw him a sweater and a fresh pair of jeans.

He was reaching out to grab the clothing when a spasm hit his body. It was so unexpected and violent that it doubled him over. His vision shifted, the world swimming before him. He was vaguely aware of Ashaya crying out and running to kneel beside him. Her frantic hands felt odd on him, not quite as they should. His senses were so acute, everything too sharp, too bright.

His first thought was that the gene therapy had gone terribly wrong. His second was that he had to let Ashaya know he didn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault. Just fucking fate. But he couldn’t get the words out, his vocal cords all wrong. He couldn’t even reach for her. His hands wouldn’t cooperate.

“Give in!” he heard Ashaya scream. “Stop fighting it! Dorian, please!”

Give in?
What was she talking about? He had to fight, fighting was how he’d survived.

“Baby, please. Please. Please.”

Ashaya never used endearments, a part of him thought. She was still learning. He liked to tease her by saying—A pulse of need, of love, came down the mating bond. It had the wet saltiness of a plea.

He couldn’t deny her. He could never deny her.

He gave in.

Agony and ecstasy, pure joy and shuddering pain. It was endless and the firefly flicker of a bird’s heart. Then it was over. He blinked but his vision remained all wrong, his eyes too low to the ground. He opened his mouth to ask Ashaya why she was crying . . . but what came out wasn’t human.

Ashaya began laughing at the look on Dorian’s face. “You are so beautiful.” A leopard with puzzled green eyes and the cutest expression she had ever seen. “Oh, I could just . . .” She reached out to stroke her hand down the fur of his back.

He made a rumbling sound that vibrated under her fingertips.

“Mom!” Keenan skidded to a stop beside her, Noor gasping beside him.

Dorian looked up and immediately lost his balance. Ashaya slung an arm around him, keeping him upright. “Slow, slow. You have to get used to it.”

Keenan bent his body, braced his hands on his knees, and looked sideways at the man he usually followed around like a solid little shadow. “Dorian? Is that you? You’re a leopard! Noor, look, Dorian’s a cat!”

Ashaya felt shock ripple through the mating bond as Keenan’s innocent exclamation finally cut through the confusion blinding Dorian. “You’re magnificent,” she whispered, cognizant of his keen hearing. “Amazingly beautiful.”

“Dorian’s a cat! Dorian’s a cat!” Keenan, her previously silent son, began running around them in circles, a giggling Noor attached to his hand.

Laughing at their antics, Ashaya pressed a kiss to Dorian’s brow. “Try to walk.”

He wobbled dangerously.

Shit!
Dorian thought. He was like a cub, all lack of coordination and paws out of order. Okay, he thought, he was still a man inside. He could work this out.

Strokes on his back, through fur. The sensation was so different, so luscious. And then the whisper in his ear. “The leopard knows. You don’t have to cage him anymore.”

It was as if he’d just needed to hear it. The leopard took over, the man retreated. Then the two combined for the first time in his life. He felt Ashaya move away even as his body straightened. Turning his head, he leaned forward and closed his jaws very gently over her wrist.

It was a kiss.

Her face lit up in understanding. “I love you, too. Now go, run. Play.”

He released her, stopping to snap his teeth at the kids simply to hear them laugh and scamper off. Then he ran. The forest took on a thousand new colors clothed in scent, and when he chased prey, it was for the sheer joy of it. Hours passed. Night came and stars lit up the sky.

But the best part was going home . . . because she was waiting for him in front of a small fire. He walked out of the forest on four feet, thought about wanting to hold her in the arms of a man, and that quickly, he was kneeling naked on the forest floor. “Hey. Kids asleep?”

She nodded and ran to him. “Oh, Dorian!”

Her joy blazed along the bond until it pulsed golden inside his heart. “God, I love you,” he whispered. The words came from the heart of him, a heart that held the wild fury of a changeling—there was no man and there was no leopard. Only Dorian.

Turn the page for a sneak peak of the first book in a thrilling new series from Nalini Singh

Angels’ Blood

Coming in March 2009 from Berkley Sensation!

Elena’s instincts were screaming at her to grab the knife in her boot, do some damage, and get the hell out, but she forced herself to stay in place. The truth was, she wouldn’t make it more than two feet before Raphael broke every single bone in her body.

It was exactly what he’d done to a vampire who’d thought to betray him.

That vampire had been found in the center of Times Square. He’d still been alive. And he’d still been trying to scream, “No! Raphael, no!” But his voice had been a rasp by then, his jaw hanging on by stringlike tendons, his flesh missing in places.

Elena—out of the United States on a hunt—had seen the news footage after the event. She knew the vamp had lain there in agony for three hours before being picked up by a pair of angels. Everyone in New York, hell, everyone in the country, had known he was there, but no one had dared help him, not with Raphael’s mark blazing on his forehead. The archangel had wanted the punishment witnessed, wanted to remind people of who and what he was. It had worked. Now the mere mention of his name evoked visceral fear.

But Elena wouldn’t crawl, not for anyone. It was a choice she’d made the night her father had told her to get on her knees and beg, and maybe, maybe, he’d accept her back into the family.

Elena hadn’t spoken to her father in a decade.

“You should have a care,” Raphael said into the unnatural silence.

She didn’t collapse in relief—the air continued to hang heavy with the promise of menace. “I don’t like to play games.”

“Learn.” He settled back in his chair. “You will live a very short life if you expect only honesty.”

Sensing the danger had passed—for now—she unclenched her fingers with an effort of will. The force of the blood rushing back into them was painful. “I didn’t say I expected honesty. People lie. Vampires lie. Even—” She caught herself.

“Surely you’re not going to practice discretion now?” The amusement was back but it was tempered with an edge that stroked like a razor across her skin.

She looked into that perfect face and knew she’d never met a more deadly being in her life. If she displeased him, Raphael would kill her as easily as she might swat a fly. She’d be smart to remember that, no matter how the knowledge infuriated her. “You said I had to do a test?”

His wings moved slightly at that instant, drawing her attention. They truly were beautiful and she couldn’t help but covet them. To be able to fly . . . what an amazing gift.

Raphael’s eyes shifted to look at something over her left shoulder. “Less a test than an experiment.”

She didn’t twist around, had no need to. “There’s a vampire behind me.”

“Are you sure?” His expression remained unchanged.

She fought the urge to turn. “Yes.”

He nodded. “Look.”

Wondering which was worse—having her back to an enigmatic and highly unpredictable archangel or to an unknown vampire—she hesitated. In the end, her curiosity won out. There was a distinctly satisfied expression on Raphael’s face and she wanted to know what had put it there.

Shifting, she turned sideways with her whole body, the position allowing her to keep Raphael in her peripheral vision. Then she looked at the
two
. . . creatures who stood behind her. “Jesus.”