The Bite That Binds (The Deep In Your Veins #2) (26 page)

“She knows,” Jared told Antonio as we returned to our seats. At Antonio’s confused frown, he elaborated, “Magda. She overheard me talking about Sam’s problem with her gifts.”

Antonio cursed, which raised everybody’s brows since he wasn’t one for swearing. “Once she informs the others, we will have a huge problem on our hands.”

“What exactly is it that you think they’ll do?” I asked.

“Cause a riot,” he replied. “What you have to understand is that this is much like humans having the right to vote for who is president, or prime minister, or whatever they term the ruler of their country. Up to now, no one has objected to you, despite their reservations. Yes, Marcia, Rowan, and Ricardo have issues with you, but they have not publically rejected you. If enough people were to do so, a voting would be held. If the outcome was that most of vampirekind had decided to vote against you, one of two things would have to happen. Jared must choose another life-partner—”

“That will never fucking happen,” Jared vehemently stated.

“—or I would have to choose another Heir. It is vampire-law.”

“Shite,” I uttered. I’d always known that Jared might be under some form of pressure to ‘do better’ than me, but I hadn’t imagined that he might lose his position.
That
wasn’t an acceptable path to me.

Wes growled. “Is there no way we could just kill her before she has the chance to talk?”

“I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed,” said Jared. “She went over to those three moaners. Now she and Marcia keep looking over, smirking.”

Crap, crap, crap. “No prizes for guessing how this is going to play out.” And what else could we do but sit there and wait for the shit to start?

So we sat and we waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. Not a bloody thing. “Do you think that maybe she hasn’t told anyone?”

Jared, who was holding my hand and massaging my pulse-point with his thumb, shrugged. “It could be that she’s trying to make us sweat, keep us wondering and worrying.”

“She does like mind games,” mused Luther.

“Let’s find out.” Keeping hold of my hand, Jared walked toward her with a determined stride that I saw made Magda hitch in a breath. Whether it was from arousal or anxiety, I wasn’t sure. “What the fuck is your game?” he demanded quietly.

The weird witch smiled at him and patted his chest. At his growl and my hiss, she dropped her hand. “There is no need to panic, Jared. I told you, I only wish you happiness. If I can be convinced over the next few evenings that you are happy with Sam, I will not reveal what I know.”

“I could just slit your throat now before you do,” he gritted out.

“You could…but I’m not the only one with the knowledge, so that will do you no good. Like I said, I simply want to be assured that you are content.”

He shook his head, glaring at her through narrowed eyes. “You’re playing some sort of game…I’m just not sure what it is yet.”

“Always so suspicious and eager to distrust those around you,” said Magda, shaking her head sadly before shooting me a smug smirk. Working those hips, she waltzed away. Oh I could kill that bitch happily if I didn’t know it would put Jared through absolute agony.

He turned to me. “What do we do now?”

“I agree with you, she’s up to something, but I don’t know what. So we wait.”

“I’m
sick
of waiting.”

I knew what he meant but was afraid to say aloud – he was sick of waiting for whatever changes were happening to me to finally take shape. “So am I, but what else can we do?” Nothing, there was nothing.

(Jared)

Sam was draped over me when I woke up after a restless sleep. Unable to resist touching her, I ran my hand along the length of her spine. My hand then crept lower and cupped her ass. I knew that fondling a sleeping person was a little low, but in my defence, it was the most luscious ass. I smiled as I recalled biting it. My smile widened as I remembered promising her I was going to fuck that ass one night, and she’d responded with, ‘You’d never catch my arse to fuck it’. She was probably right.

Then it all hit me. Reality hit me. Our problems hit me.

Those precious seconds I had each evening when I first woke up, thinking about nothing but the woman in my arms, were the best. For those few seconds, nothing was on my mind but her. Everything felt as normal as it usually was. For those few seconds, I forgot that we had more issues than we knew what to do with.

Feeling her stir, I tightened my arms around her. “Hey, sleep well?”

“I feel like I only shut my eyes ten minutes ago,” she mumbled against my chest.

I sighed. “I know what you mean.”

“Do you think we’ll hear from Ryder tonight?”

“I’m more worried about if Magda’s blabbed yet.”

“Maybe she’s telling the truth and she won’t say anything.”

I snorted. “Do you really believe that?”

“No, but a girl can dream.”

After we had both drank some NSTs, I followed her into the shower, where I took her hard like the good fiancé that I was. Hey, I’d take her slow if she didn’t always bitch at me to go faster.

After a few hours in our office, taking care of a couple of minor issues, we headed for the huge training arena for the evening’s entertainment; a gladiator-style dinner show. It was tradition that three of the High Masters would each pit five of their best legion members against the others in a series of events. It was usually pretty entertaining, so I was looking forward to it. I knew Sam was equally eager – anything with a little violence tended to keep her interested.

Inside, most of the guests were already seated, nibbling on the appetisers that had been laid out on the long counter-style tables. For the purpose of the show’s theme, the seating had been divided into four sections. One section was for Rowan’s bloodline as five members of his legion were partaking in the challenge. The second section was for Ricardo’s bloodline since his legion was also involved. The third section was for Bran’s bloodline, who usually won. And the fourth section was for all neutral parties.

Our particular seats were on the middle tier of the neutral section, giving us an excellent view. Seated closest to us were Evan, Antonio, Luther, Wes, Lena, Fletcher, and Norm.

Fletcher leaned in. “Widow Twankey’s sitting on Rowan’s side, next to Marcia. Have you noticed?”

“He’s talking about Magda,” explained Sam, having sensed my confusion.

“Maybe we’ve finally succeeded in alienating her.” Fletcher looked utterly delighted. “The paint pellets most likely helped with that.”

“And the chopstick incident,” said Norm, laughing.

Yeah, and that was what worried me. The last thing we needed was that woman to be extremely pissed off. But apparently news of Sam’s attempt at taking out Magda’s eye had gone around like wildfire…and everyone thought it was hilarious. And that Sam was a lunatic.

Magda wouldn’t exactly be happy to be the subject of a joke. Although…she looked quite happy right now. Excited, even.

Not willing to give that woman the satisfaction of ruining the evening for me with her ‘let’s keep them on eggshells game’ – honestly, what other game could it possibly be? – I switched my focus back to Sam. I kept that focus mostly on her as we watched the show. The first event, like the remaining seven, tested the strength and physical endurance of the contenders.

As I’d anticipated, Bran’s legion seemed to be the obvious winners right from the beginning, though Ricardo’s contenders weren’t too far behind in terms of points. Considering Bran was, for all intents and purposes, my uncle, I was obviously supporting him.

Not that I’d give my support to the other two bastards. I had to admit that I was really enjoying watching their faces turn various shades of purple each time their legion members lost at an event. Of course, I cheered along for Bran’s vampires with everyone else, gloating a little. I didn’t even care if that was petty. These guys had snubbed my fiancée, so fuck ’em.

After the eighth event, Rowan’s legion was eliminated from the challenge due to having the lowest amount of points. Out of Bran’s five contenders, the one in the fittest shape was selected to go against one of Ricardo’s vampires in the final, eliminating, challenge: a duel. Whichever side won the duel would win the overall contest.

Both vampires had impressive gifts, and the duel was filled with explosions, fire, bright lights, smoke, and rain. When Bran’s vampire won, cheers from both his section and our section filled the arena.

Only then was dessert finally served – the most amazing chocolate and caramel sundae, which I spoon-fed to a laughing Sam. Maybe that was why I hadn’t noticed Magda making her way down to the centre of the arena until she clapped to gain everybody’s attention.

Fletcher groaned. “Oh what’s that mental heifer doing now?”

“In honour of this tradition, I propose there be a friendly challenge between a guest and someone from the host’s side. Yes, ordinarily the hosts are left to be the hosts. But why not have a tiny duel to top the evening off? I would like to challenge…Miss Samantha Parker, the Heir’s fiancée.”

(Sam)

Oh joy. I heard all the mutterings and gasps around me, but I didn’t move my eyes from Magda. “So
this
is why she hasn’t told anyone. She planned to challenge me, knowing I couldn’t properly defend myself.” If she had told people that I was weak, they wouldn’t have counted her win as a genuine one. “Bollocks.”

Norm guffawed. “What the hell is she thinking? With your gifts, she doesn’t have a chance. It’s like the wheel’s still turning but the hamster died a
long
time ago.” Well of course he would think that. He didn’t know about my current problem.

But Fletcher did, and he shrunk into his seat. “I don’t think I can watch. My heart can’t take it.”

“There’ll be nothing to watch,” stated Jared. “This is not going to happen.”

I grabbed Jared’s arm. “I have to do it. If I don’t accept the challenge, I’ll look weak.”

He cupped my chin. “And if you do accept it, you’ll look weak. You can’t win this, not without your gifts. You’re strong, baby – so damn strong – but she’s a Pagori. Biology makes her stronger than you.”

“But not more agile. Maybe I can play on that.” I had at the try-outs, and it had worked then.

“Actually, I have an idea,” said Antonio. To Magda, he called out, “Your proposal to honour the tradition is a good one. But I feel that a challenge with Sam would be unfair to you, for she has very offensive gifts.”

“As do I,” said Magda, just as her arm melted into a blade.

I winced. “Not. Good.”

“My Sire was a Bestower, like yourself, your Grandness,” explained Magda. “He once bestowed another gift upon me.”

And wasn’t that just wonderful. The fact was that she had boxed me into a corner. If I didn’t come out clawing, it would be totally against my nature. But I wasn’t too keen on having that blade piercing through my body. She wouldn’t kill me, couldn’t, but she
would
make a spectacle out of me.

Jared was right; she was a lot stronger, and there was every chance that I wouldn’t beat her. But there was also a chance that I would, because there was more to duelling than the physical side of things. A good strategy was just as important. And Magda wasn’t exactly a full shilling, was she? Strategizing wouldn’t be her strong point.

In any case, I didn’t have a choice. Sighing, I went to stand but Jared put a restraining hand on my thigh. “Baby, don’t.”

“She can’t kill me,” I reminded him.

“But she could hurt you, and I’d rather step down from my position than give her the chance to do that.”

“I know you would, and I love you for it, but this is something I have to do. Not everything comes down to my gifts.” Before he could teleport me away, I called out, “I accept the challenge.” I stood, adding only loud enough for Jared to hear, “And so does Dexter.”

He double-blinked, then smiled a little, but worry still filled his eyes. “That snake better live up to its expectations. If you get seriously hurt, he becomes a purse.”

I gave him a light tap over the head as I past him.

Wes shot me a concerned look, squeezing my hand supportively. “Let Dexter help you. Wind him around your waist, or put him on the ground. Either way, he will do his best to protect you.”

I hoped he was right. Making my way down the stairs, I felt all eyes on me, felt the anticipation of some and the expectations of others. This was so crap. I’d been really enjoying myself up until this point. That fact alone made me want to skin the bitch alive.
And
there was every chance that my new emerald-green dress would be ruined. If she had a bunny, I’d boil it.

When I came to stand opposite her, keeping a standard thirty feet between us, she gave me a wide, smug smile. She was clearly confident she was going to win this. Unfortunately, she had every reason to be. The only plan I could come up with was to repeatedly dodge her, which would serve two purposes; remaining unharmed, and frustrating her so immensely that she made a mistake.