Rebel Obsession (34 page)
“Is she on her way?”
“No. We’re waiting to hear from her.”
“How long?”
“As long as it takes.” What was with the twenty questions? “If that means we wait a week, we wait a week.”
“What if she never shows?”
Apostle deferred to Jarek, who shrugged. “I can’t see why she wouldn’t.”
“But if she doesn’t…?” Jessup looked between Apostle and Jarek.
Apostle sighed. “Then we’ll come up with another plan. Satisfied?” Stupid, curious little vampire.
Jessup’s forehead creased, but he nodded tightly. “Yes.”
This just didn’t add up. A vampire working with Drecks? Sure, it had happened, but it was rare, and Jessup didn’t seem the type.
“Tell me, Jessup, why are you working with us?”
Jessup cocked his head quizzically and made a face. He appeared confused, as if Apostle’s question confounded him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…well, you’re a vampire, Jessup. We’re drecks. Don’t you think it’s unusual for a vampire to be working with drecks?”
Jessup frowned and looked down at his arms, his head tilting from side to side as if he was working through a problem. Then he glanced back up, his eyes clear and his face calm. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
Apostle exchanged glances with Chez, whose eyebrows popped up as if to say he wasn’t going near this one.
“Never mind, Jessup.” Jessup had obviously undergone some type of intense programming, but Apostle wouldn’t pursue the matter further. The less he knew about Bishop’s experiments, the better. “Why don’t you have a seat and rest up while we wait.” He gestured toward the bed.
With a nod, Jessup shut the case and lay down as if just the mere suggestion that he rest made him tired. Creepy.
Apostle rubbed his palm over his arm uncomfortably, staring at Jessup, trying not to shudder at the memory of Bishop’s scorpions stinging him over and over. Yes, he was fine not knowing the details of Bishop’s experiments. Totally fine.
Miriam stayed glued to Io’s side as the guards dragged him up the steps and inside her home. Well, her father’s home. She didn’t consider this place
her
home anymore. Her father stood like an impressive but pissed off statue in the center of the grand foyer, his arms linked behind his back and his booted feet planted two feet apart on the tile. His brilliant blue eyes—so like hers—radiated a fury she had never seen in him.
Even so, she refused to wilt in cowardice. “Father—”
“To your room. Now.” He didn’t yell or move, but the deep timbre and dark echo of his voice indicated he was not to be tested.
Too bad for him, because Miriam intended to do just that. She took a deep breath, knowing she was in for a confrontation, the likes of which resembled Mount Saint Helens erupting. “No.”
For the first time since they had entered, her father moved, his eyes flicking to hers a split-second before his head snapped toward her. “Now.” The word drew out of him like a lion’s snarl right before it attacked, long and deadly.
She stiffened her resolve and clasped her hands around Io’s arm, stepping closer to him. “No.” She matched her father’s tone, leveling her gaze on him in a challenge.
“MIRIAM! NOW!” Her father’s voice boomed as if through a loud speaker, echoing and vibrating the floor and walls.
Once the echo diminished and the air stilled, she simply squeezed closer to Io and repeated, “No.”
So, they were at an impasse. Donovan and the other guards stood behind her and Io, and her father stood in front. She had no escape any way she looked at it. She might be able to outrun the guards, but not her father, and she would go nowhere without Io.
Her father’s jaw clenched and relaxed like he was chewing on something, but she knew that just meant he was pissed off. And goody for that. Because she didn’t care. In fact….
“Io is my mate, Father. You have to honor him as my mate. It’s the law.” Her chin jutted out proudly.
Her father’s face turned crimson. “It is also the law that you are not to be touched, daughter.”
“Bullshit! Where is it written in those law creeds you pass that I am to remain untouched? Where?” She let go of Io and stormed her father like a bull. “Or that I am to be referred to as
Daughter of Bain
as if I don’t have a name? Huh? Tell me. Tell me!”
Her father puffed up so that he looked six inches taller. “That is the law of this house.” Again, his voice rang out and echoed. By now, it was likely that all the servants knew what was taking place and had taken cover.
“I am your daughter!” Her voice cracked as she screamed at him. “I am not one of your subjects! I am your goddamn daughter! You treat me like I’m no more than a peasant. I don’t need a ruler, I need a fucking father! Why can’t you just be my father?”
The two snarled and breathed heavily at each other, both standing firmly in their conviction but bracing for a fight.
“Take her to her room!” Her father gestured for the guards to come forward.
Before she could resist, the guards’ hands closed around her arms. Io growled dangerously low in his throat. She swung her head around, trying to break free and get back to him. Io looked like a predator, his head tilted forward, eyes narrowed on the men pulling her away. Fangs flashed as he hissed, then his top lip curled up in a snarl. He pulled against Donovan and Joseph, his muscles bunching and his neck straining.
“She’s mine.” Io’s voice was pure menace.
“She is no one’s. Least of all yours.” Her father snapped his fingers and the guards pulled her away as she kicked and screamed for her mate.
“Io!” She tried to wrench free, but it was useless. Every time she pulled from one fisted hand, another clamped down on her. She was surrounded. “Io!” Her chest ached, her heart shattering.
“No!” Io’s deep voice echoed with mated aggression.
She turned, yanked, fought with all her strength, pulling against the guards. “Let me go! I need him. I
need
him!”
His feral eyes locked onto hers as he doubled his efforts to break free. “Let me go. She’s mine. She belongs to me! Miriam!”
Miriam tried in vain to pull loose from the guards, but they dragged her up the stairs.
Within seconds, she was yanked out of sight of her mate. She screamed as pain knifed her chest. Half a heartbeat later, Io’s answering howl ripped her soul. If she was hurting this much, she could only imagine the pain he was feeling.
King Bain closed his eyes as his daughter’s and Io’s cries pierced his ears. When he heard Miriam’s screams become muffled behind the closed door of her room, he opened his eyes again and looked at the crumpled male in front of him. Io had fallen to his knees, his head reared back and his cries and growls sustained by what seemed to be an endless supply of air.
“Silence him,” he said.
Donovan pulled another syringe from his pocket, bit down on the cap to pull it off, and then jabbed the needle into Io’s neck.
Within seconds, Io slumped forward, quieted and unconscious.
“Lock him up,” Bain said to Donovan. “In the basement.”
Few prisoners were held in-residence, but he had special plans for Io. Bain wouldn’t risk his escaping by transporting him to the off-site dungeon. And keeping him here hardly mattered, since he wouldn’t survive the next twenty-four hours.
They dragged Io away, leaving Bain to consider what to do about Miriam. She had lied to him. She had defied him and knowingly broken the rules. And she thought Io was her mate, but he couldn’t possibly be. Io wasn’t good enough for her. Bain had envisioned so much more for Miriam than Io could provide, and in time she would see that.
Bain turned and headed up the stairs and down the hall to her room. Guards were posted outside her door and stepped aside to allow him in.
Miriam was sitting at her vanity, her face in her hands, shoulders hiccupping as she sobbed.
He frowned, pain blooming in his chest. When was the last time he had seen her cry? Seeing her upset…affected him. “It’s for the best, you know.”
* * *
Miriam jumped and spun around to see her father standing in her doorway. She spat at him. How dare he try to tell her what was best for her.
“For who? You? The people?” She sniffled and wiped her face with her palm. “It’s certainly not the best for me, or have you even noticed?” She sure as hell hoped her father hadn’t come in to give her a you’ll-get-over-this-and-see-I’m-right-someday pep talk, because she really wasn’t in the mood. As in, not even remotely close.
“You don’t know what’s right and best for you, Miri.”
“Don’t be so casual with me,” she said, her words snapping like whips. “I’m to be called
Daughter of Bain,
or haven’t you heard? I have no name. I am merely a poster child for propriety. My life isn’t my own, and I my father is a bastard. Hell, I don’t even have a father anymore.”
Her father flinched, her words leaving their mark.
“That’s right.” She continued, marching across the room to grab a tissue so she could wipe her nose. “I haven’t had a father since I was a little girl, and even then, he wasn’t much of one. Work always came first. I always took second seat…to the point I eventually became invisible and he could no longer hear my voice.” She turned and glared at him, catching her momentum. “And how dare you tell me I don’t know what’s right. Io is my mate, Father. He mated to me. His soul chose mine, and mine chose his. And now you’re going to punish him because of that.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss him then turned away toward the heavily draped window.
“Miriam, he is not right for you. Io is not of your standard. He—”
“How dare you insult my mate!” She whirled on her father like a cyclone, her words flying fast and hard, punctuated by jabs of her finger. “And how dare you dispute the mating call you so adamantly uphold in your own court. I’ve seen you hand down orders and verdicts against suitors trying to stake a claim to a mated female. You have always upheld the rights of a mated male. Even in a case where a female was already wed, you have supported the dissolution of the marriage to allow a mated male the right to the claim nature granted him.”
“That’s different.”
“How? Why? Because I’m your daughter?” She scoffed. “Really? You can’t be serious. Do you realize how hypocritical you sound?”
“Miriam, you are special. You deserve more than Io can give.”
She laughed, mocking him. “I wish you could hear yourself, Father.” She shook her head and barked out a staccato chuff of a laugh. “I deserve what every member of our race deserves: the right to be with my mate. If I had not been intended for Io, nature would not have seen fit to bond his soul to mine. So excuse me and go fuck yourself.” She took a step back and crossed her arms, glaring at him.
Her father shook his head and turned for the door. He looked defeated but resolute.
She wouldn’t let him leave that easily. “If you deny him, you break your own laws, Father. And if you hurt him, I will hate you forever.”
Her father stopped, hesitated, then turned his head slightly to the side without looking back at her. “You already hate me.”
With that, he walked out of the room.
Miriam could only watch him leave, stunned silent by the revelation that he might be right.
Io awoke in the dark cell to his own voice shouting uncontrollably in a single, long wail that only broke long enough for him to breathe before continuing.
Excruciating pain pounded through his body, making his muscles feel like raw meat under a tenderizing mallet.
Pound-pound-pound.
With each beat of his heart, the sharp ache pulsed, driving him mad with agony.
And he had a hard-on as solid as steel.
Fuck! He
had
entered his
calling
with Miriam.
Snapping his mouth closed, he sat up and looked through the shadows for her. He needed her. Now! They needed to mate!
But she wasn’t here. Miriam wasn’t with him.
Shooting up off the dank mattress that felt like hardened, lumpy oatmeal, he attacked the iron bars, trying with all his might to pull them apart, but they wouldn’t budge.
“MIRIAM!’ He cried out for his mate, needing her in a way only a mated male understood.
When she didn’t answer, he renewed his efforts to break out of his cell, flailing and throwing himself against the bars as he pulled and pushed.
Io needed release, and he needed it now. He felt like he would die if he didn’t get it.
Pushing back from the cell door, he thrust himself into the darkened, back corner and shoved down the sweatpants he was still wearing and latched on to his cock with his fist. Pumping furiously, he cried out as he came almost instantly, not caring if he spilled on the wall, the floor, or wherever.
Still hard and in need, he continued fisting himself until he came again. The orgasms held no pleasure, only a harsh ache that ebbed as he shuddered through the last of the agonizing release.
His body eased up enough for him to collapse back to the mattress, but within minutes, the pain returned. Once more, Io lunged for the door, manic in his need to be with his mate.
“MIRIAM!” He cried out as a jolt of pain doubled him over.
* * *
“Do something!” Miriam stopped pacing and shouted at the guard at her bedroom door, tears streaking her cheeks. Her thumb rubbed up and down against her sternum, between breasts that throbbed with a kind of pain she had never felt. Why were her breasts so tender? Why did her chest ache so badly?
The sun had risen and set since she and Io had been dragged back to her home. Without Io’s tonic, her arms itched and her head pounded, and she was getting worse. Listening to her mate in the dungeon below the house wasn’t helping to ease the growing symptoms of withdrawal that threatened to overcome her, either.
“Can’t you hear him?!” Miriam rushed toward the guard and slapped him. “He’s in his
calling,
you asshole! He needs me! Let me go to him. Please!”
