Skye's Trail (22 page)

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Authors: Jory Strong

BOOK: Skye's Trail
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With his penis still sheathed in her tight channel, he took her face between his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Admit that you’re my companion, accept the medallion.”

 

She closed her eyes, fighting herself, fighting him. But when Gian’s fangs sunk into her neck, she was lost. “Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist as she arched into him, pressing her flesh to his and feeling the burn of the pendant between them.

 

He pounded into her—fast, fierce—striking her clit with each thrust. She writhed against him, begging, shivering, yielding when he sheathed his fangs and brought her face to his chest and commanded her to take his blood. She couldn’t resist the compulsion, didn’t want to, her mouth closed on his flesh and his blood spilled into her, once again sending her into oblivion on a dark wave of ecstasy.

 

She was still cradled in Gian’s arms when consciousness returned. His dark eyes stared into hers but there was no compulsion, no attempt to pull her soul into his.

 

“I would never harm you. I want to protect you. Serve you,” he whispered, his voice blending with the darkness itself as he tilted her head and brushed his fangs against the sensitive mark on her neck before sinking into her flesh—slowly, like a cock penetrating a vagina—flooding her with warmth and caring, with a joyous sense of belonging.

 

Do you accept what I offer?
he asked, the medallion burning between them.

 

“Yes,” she sighed, yielding for now, but knowing to the depth of her being that she would never settle for less than being his equal.

 

Satisfaction raged through Gian as he placed the pendant around her neck. The ritual was almost completed. Once again he sheathed his fangs and guided her mouth back to the bite mark over his heart.

 

“Again,” he commanded, knowing triumph when she willingly bound herself to him through blood.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

 

Skye fought her way through layer after layer of heavy black clouds. They tried to hold her down, keep her from seeing the sun, but the weight of them, the pressure of them, made her stomach roil, her chest compress.

 

Panic made her fight harder, struggle more desperately. If she didn’t break through soon, she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

 

Instinct took over, aided by skills and knowledge painfully gained. Gasping, coming awake to the thundering sound of her heart in her ears, her breath shuddering in and out of her chest, Skye escaped the dark compulsion insisting that she sleep until sunset.

 

For a split second she was disoriented, confused. But then the events of the previous night came into focus.

 

Unerringly her hand went to the medallion. It was cool to the touch, quiet where it lay against her flesh.

 

She tried to remember if her mother wore one. When she couldn’t picture it, a hint of panic touched her, but she pushed it away.

 

Inherent knowledge warned her to block her thoughts and actions, that even though Gian was elsewhere, safely hidden from the sun and any who might hunt him, sharing blood with him had forged an awareness between them that was not blurred by distance.

 

It took sheer determination to move from the bed to where her clothes lay on the floor, left there when Gian had stripped her. She forced herself to put them on, to walk to the door. Each step felt like a major accomplishment. She hadn’t been so weak, so vulnerable since she was a small child.

 

Leaning her forehead against the wall, she focused on the numbers she’d seen Gian punch on the keypad. Slowly, not wanting to make an error and trip some kind of security lock, Skye repeated them.

 

A barely heard click signaled that she’d remembered correctly. She opened the door and moved into the hallway, reaching for the cellular phone in her pocket as she tried to decide which direction to go.

 

There would be guards, to protect the vampires if they slept here, or simply to protect the vampires’ property. What little of the life she now remembered with her mother and her mother’s mates made her aware of certain facts, but didn’t help her navigate this new situation. She’d been so young then, so unaware of how her environment was structured, of the rules that governed her existence. But the weight of the medallion hung heavy around her neck and reminded her of how others might see her. Gian’s property.

 

She chose the way Gian had taken her before, letting her senses flare out as she moved quietly down the hall. Though her body was weak, her awareness of her surroundings seemed stronger. Well before she got to the door leading to the area behind the bar, she could hear Haley’s voice say, “Do you think she will rise today?”

 

A man’s voice answered, “Not if Gian really controls her as he said he does.”

 

Haley gave a little gasp. “Rafael, you should watch your words. Just because Brann protects you doesn’t mean you can challenge Gian.”

 

The man snorted, “I’m not anyone’s pet to speak only when spoken to and behave only as ordered to behave.”

 

Another voice entered the conversation—Kisha, Nahir’s companion. “Don’t act like you’re better than Haley, Rafael, you’re the same as we are—you answer to a vampire master.”

 

Haley’s soft voice offered peace. “It’s okay, Kisha. I wasn’t offended.” She hesitated then added, “Why is Brann here, Rafael? Did the council send him?”

 

Rafael said, “And I should tell you
why
?”

 

“Oh, don’t be an ass,” Kisha said. “Is he here because of Jen and Amy or because of Gian’s Angelini companion?”

 

Even through the wooden door, Skye could sense the amusement rolling off the man named Rafael. She pictured Brann, the powerful vampire who’d been waiting at the back door when Gian brought her here last night, and wondered what his companion looked like.

 

Rafael let the tension build until finally answering. “Brann’s here to deal with the witch.”

 

Haley’s voice was tight with worry. “What about Jen? And Amy?”

 

“Brann has the skills to remove the witch’s taint, though they’ll still be vampire.” He paused dramatically. “That’s if Gian’s companion doesn’t kill them first. You’d be wise to stay clear of her. I assume you know that she killed a fledgling last night.”

 

Kisha’s response was immediate. “You’re such a shit-disturber, Rafe. Knock it off. Even Brann believes it was in self-defense. Nahir and Kyle both told us that.”

 

There was movement in the room and Skye tensed, waiting for them to come toward the hidden door.

 

“You’re no fun, Kisha. I’m going to stroll around outside.”

 

“None of us is supposed to leave the building today,” Haley said.

 

“And around we go,” Rafael retorted. “I’m not anyone’s pet to speak only when spoken to and behave only as ordered to behave.”

 

A door opened and closed. Kisha snorted. “God, what an arrogant ass. I’d like to see him brought down a peg or two. I don’t know what Brann sees in him, except maybe a challenge.”

 

There was an unspoken question in Haley’s voice when she said, “Brann was here once before, when you and Nahir were away. He didn’t have a companion with him, but he…took what he needed from the women who came to Fangs.”

 

Kisha laughed. “I love you, Haley. You are always so polite. FYI, Brann goes both ways, though honestly, I always thought he was more interested in women. I was surprised when he showed up with Rafael as a companion, but Brann’s so powerful, he can probably take a female companion also—if he’s ever able to find one that can put up with Rafael.”

 

Once again there was movement, along with the clatter of dishes and silverware being gathered. Haley said, “I can do yours, too.”

 

“That’s okay, let’s do them together then we can watch TV or play some cards.” Their footsteps drew near, passing right by the door shielding Skye then grew faint as they passed through another door.

 

Skye slipped into the bar area and moved quickly to the door leading out of the building and into the parking lot. The lot would be wide open now, free of cars. If Rafael was near, he’d see her as soon as she stepped outside, but there was no choice but to try and make her escape. The switchblade she always kept with her was in the pocket of her jeans but she didn’t pull it out. Even if he tried to prevent her from leaving she wouldn’t use the weapon on him.

 

Slowly she opened the door, bracing herself for the sound of an alarm or for Rafael’s shout, but neither came. She’d been to Fangs enough times to know which direction would lead her to cover. She hesitated only long enough to make sure that she could sense no presence before committing herself to her path and leaving the building.

 

Adrenaline kicked in, giving her the strength to run just far enough that she could hide in an alley and consider her next move. She needed to get to the airport and see if the Harley was there.

 

She reached in her pocket and drew out her wallet, wondering what the cab fare would be, wondering if she dared to go home. The ID that she’d found in the witch’s house caught her attention. She needed to know who the man left on the altar was, who the fledgling vampire she’d killed had been. Skye flicked on the cell phone and saw that Rico had called.

 

Conflicting emotions and instincts crashed through her.

 

He was her mate. He was safety.

 

He was a cop. He was dangerous.

 

This was her world and he was now a part of it.

 

This was the part of her world that she wanted him safe from.

 

There was no safety in ignorance.

 

She dialed his number and couldn’t stop the way her heart leaped at the sound of his voice. “Where are you?” he asked.

 

She told him. “Are you on duty?”

 

“No.”

 

“Can you come get me?”

 

There was a surprised hesitation. “Sure.”

 

Skye waited a heartbeat before adding, “When you get here, wait a minute, I’ll come to you.”

 

“Shit. You’re in trouble. I’m walking out of my house right now. I can stay on the line.”

 

Warmth rushed through Skye. “I’m not in danger. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

 

Rico’s voice was cop-firm. “We’ll talk about it then.”

 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Skye repeated before cutting off the connection and silencing the phone.

 

* * * * *

 

¡Carajo!
He hated this. Hated the worry, hated the fact that he didn’t know what she was doing and he was too chickenshit to ask her. Fuck! How could he know and stay a cop?

 

Rico slammed his fist on the steering wheel. Shit! What was he going to do about this?

 

Frustration rolled into aggression. They
would
talk. He was starting to get pissed at himself. He’d let himself be led around by his dick long enough. Maybe he wouldn’t like her answers, maybe he wouldn’t be able to live with them, maybe in the end he’d see if she could make him forget that he’d ever done more than fantasize about her, but at least it would be his choice.

 

The anger turned to worry when he passed Fangs. He’d been through here numerous times since landing the Brittany Armstrong case. Usually the place was dead, couldn’t even get anyone to answer the phone during daylight hours. But now there were a couple of women outside and about a half dozen men. One in particular caught Rico’s eye. Despite the long blond hair, the guy oozed power. He was talking and pointing, directing the others. Rico’s heart did a nervous tap dance when he recognized the beginnings of a search.

 

Fuck. He had almost no time to get to Skye.

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