Unbound (16 page)

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Authors: Sara Humphreys

BOOK: Unbound
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“Me?” Sadie blinked. “Why? I gave you the bill. Was it wrong or something?”

“No.” A smile played at his lips and he let his eyes drift over her slowly from head to toe. “I realize that I forgot to give you something,” he murmured.

Killian leaned in, so that his face was just inches from hers. Sadie wavered slightly but still didn't back away. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, which was mixed with the clear aroma of her arousal, and his entire body tightened in response. Sadie's mouth parted and her tongue flicked over her lower lip temptingly.

“My business card.” Killian smirked as he snagged his business card out of his pocket and held it up between two fingers. “I realized that I forgot to give this to you last night.”

“Right.” Sadie held his challenging stare as she grasped the edge of the card and tried to take it. Killian didn't let go. Her grin widened and her voice, low and husky, swirled around him like smoke. “Well, are you going to give it to me or not?”

“Absolutely,” he whispered. Holding the edge of the card, his fingertips brushed hers again, sending that delicious electric shock through his body and straight to his dick. “And I'm not just talking about the card.”

His suspicions confirmed, Killian turned on his heels and strode away. With her scent lingering in his head and the effects still impacting his body, Killian made his way out of the club. He knew, without a doubt, that merely flirting with Sadie wouldn't be enough.

Not by a long shot.

Chapter 4

There was nothing Killian enjoyed more than a challenge.

His father used to say that Killian would build a mountain just so he'd have something to climb or conquer. Whether he was building forts on their property in Alaska as a human or chasing rabbits in his wolf form, Killian was always seeking something to test himself. That was the true sign of a future king, according to his father. And if all went as planned, Killian would assume the throne on his thirty-fifth birthday.

All he needed was a mate.

Ugh.

He stretched his legs out and leaned back against the leather seat of the town car before casting a glance at Ivan and David in the front. The two men were his assigned security detail and had become something akin to friends. As the heir to the throne, he'd always found friendships difficult to maintain, and having any kind of relationship with a woman was even more difficult. Sex wasn't a problem. He'd had plenty of that with more human women than he could count. A ready and willing woman wasn't the issue. But finding the right one seemed downright impossible. Killian was beginning to believe she didn't really exist.

His parents' marriage had been arranged, like so many royals before them, but the difference was that they actually loved each other. And that was what Killian wanted. He didn't want to marry just for the sake of the throne. If he was going to bind his life to a woman, it would damn well be with the right woman.

His father had been after him for the past two years to settle down and take a mate. For shit's sake, the old man had ensured that every available she-wolf from all of the
acceptable
families had been paraded in front of Killian since he reached adulthood. They were lovely, really, beautiful women who would undoubtedly make fine mates—but none of them were
the
one
.

Aside from the fact that not one of the females captured his interest beyond a passing fancy, none bore the mark. Since childhood, Killian had been dreaming of the same woman, with the mark of the full moon on her left shoulder blade. Each time it was the same. Naked, she emerged from the water like some kind of ghostly vision. Her alabaster skin glistened in the light of the full moon, and only one thing marred that perfect flesh: a dark circle on her left shoulder—the mark of the moon.

Killian would chase after her, call to her, and beg the nude beauty to turn and face him, take pity on him, and put an end to his loneliness. It wasn't just her beauty that drew him to her. He sensed a strength in her that could rival his own, along with a glimmer of loneliness that he recognized all too well.

Yet each morning he would awaken just as she was turning around…and find himself alone again. The vision was always the same, and as he got older, the recurring dream became more frequent, frenzied, and desperate.

He'd made the mistake of telling his father about the dream, and the old man had simply brushed it off as childish fantasy. The only person who didn't give him shit about it was his baby sister, Naomi. She was about ten years younger than he was and, when she was a little girl, would beg Killian to tell her about the dreams. Each time she'd sigh and tell him that it was just like a story in one of her books.

Too bad life wasn't a fairy tale. Not even for a prince.

Time was running out and his father was losing patience with him. Maybe he should just pack in this ridiculous idea of opening a club in the city and go back to Alaska, pick a mate, and raise a litter of children.

That's what he should do—but not what he was going to do.

Killian had five years until his father retired and he would have to take his position as king. If these were going to be his last years as a free man, a man beholden to no one but himself, then he was damn well going to make the most of them. He sure as hell couldn't do that back in Alaska with everyone watching his every damn move and playing matchmaker every other day.

When Killian told his mother and father that he wanted to open a nightclub, there had been the inevitable pushback. The only way the old man would agree was if Killian allowed the king and one of his friends to invest in the club. Killian owned controlling interest and having his father as a silent partner wasn't the worst thing in the world, but he would buy his father out as soon as possible. The king said his “friend” wanted to remain anonymous, and even though that set Killian on edge, he was so eager to get his club going that he agreed.

Living in a city run by vampires might seem like an odd choice, but only to those not looking to keep a pack of werewolves out of their business. So far it had been going well. The czars and their coven had been surprisingly welcoming. Most of them, anyway. He had received a couple of anonymous threatening letters about the club, warning him that his kind wasn't welcome in the city, but Killian paid them little mind. He had the approval of the czars, and their opinions were the only ones that mattered.

Maybe not the
only
ones.

A smile played at his lips as he recalled the look on Sadie's face when he'd revealed he was opening his own club in the city. She was quite possibly the most interesting woman he'd met in his life—and he'd met a lot of women. Sadie Pemberton was a challenge for many reasons, not the least of which was because she was a vampire. Aside from that, she was also one of the czar's progeny. If he and Sadie got involved and things went south, it would create a messy situation politically. Then, of course, there was the fact that Sadie seemed to have a clear dislike and distrust of werewolves.

As Killian stared out the window of the limo at the city streets flashing by, Sadie's beautiful face and her fiery dark eyes drifted into his mind.

Vampire or not, that woman would be a challenge. Her dislike and distrust of his kind had been evident from the second he met her last year. She was defiant and outspoken, making her feelings about him perfectly clear, and that outspokenness lit a fire in his gut. For his entire life, people had done whatever he wanted and the word “no” was scarcely heard, unless it came from his father.

He was heir to the throne and constantly surrounded by yes-men.

Not Sadie, though. She seemed to delight in defying him, and he found that spirit remarkably refreshing. It was as though, from day one, she had dared him to seduce her, and damn if he wasn't attracted to her.

There was something about Sadie, something he couldn't put his finger on, and that
something
kept him coming back to her club night after night. Telling her that he was observing the club operations wasn't a total lie. It wasn't the total truth either. At first, he'd gone to the club to study the business, and it had been helpful. But the sexy dark-haired vampire had him returning time and again. It was stupid to get hot and bothered over a vampire, especially when a relationship between them had no future.

Aside from the fact that his father would blow a gasket, his own people would freak the fuck out if they heard the heir to the throne was messing around with a vamp. Yet, here he was, night after night, at The Coven because of Sadie. Fixating on her had to make Killian either the biggest idiot ever born or a gigantic commitment-phobe. After all, if he got involved with Sadie on any level, their relationship would eventually have to end. Killian was going to be king of the Werewolf Society and that meant mating with another wolf. Not a vampire. Hooking up with Sadie would be a waste of time.

Maybe that was why he was chasing her.

God. Was he that big of an asshole? Was he only fixating on her because he knew it would go nowhere? No. He needed her help. Sadie was a smart, intuitive businesswoman and her input on the new club would be valuable. There was nothing wrong with developing a working relationship with her, even if a personal one was outside the realm of possibility.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Lost in his thoughts, Killian made a scoffing sound, leaned his elbow on the bottom of the window, and pressed his mouth against his fist. He was so absorbed in images of Sadie that he didn't hear Ivan.

“Yo,” Ivan shouted. “Killian, you okay back there?”

“What?” Killian snapped his head forward and adjusted his position, feeling embarrassed for spacing out like he had. “I'm fine. Just been burning the candle at both ends.”

That wasn't a total lie. He had been pulling double duty with days at the new club site and nights at The Coven. He sure as shit wasn't going to admit he was fantasizing about a vampire vixen. Shit. Talk about breaking protocol or tradition. Killian was the heir to the throne, and his mate had to be a she-wolf from one of the proper bloodlines.

Period.

End of story.

Fuck.

He pressed his fingers against his eyes and let out a long, slow breath.

“Killian, are you sure you're okay?” David gripped the wheel tighter and flicked his dark eyes at Killian in the rearview mirror. “For a second I thought you fell asleep with your eyes open.”

“Sorry.” Killian dropped his hands and rolled his shoulders, rigid with tension. “I was just thinking about something.”

“You mean Sadie?” David asked. “That's why we go back there every night, right?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Killian's eyes narrowed and he looked back out the window. They were driving up the West Side Highway and would be at their new building in a few minutes. “As I said to Ms. Pemberton, I've been watching how they run their club and how they handle the humans.”

“Hey.” David raised one large hand off the wheel. “Don't get me wrong, man. I'm not complaining about going.” He cleared his throat and glanced in the rearview mirror. Killian wasn't stupid. He knew David had developed a fascination with the DJ, Justine. He also knew that David slipped out from time to time for trysts with the vampire, and out of respect for his friend's privacy, Killian opted never to bring it up unless David did. “That Sadie broad is gorgeous but she's also a vampire.”

“I get it,” Ivan interjected. “The attraction to someone different and forbidden is hot, and I know lots of wolves that have dallied with a vamp or two. Let's be honest, hookups like that happen. People just don't talk about it. You, however, aren't just anyone.”

“It's true,” David replied without looking back. “Your Highness, I—”

“Cut that shit out.” Killian gave him a bored look. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Right.” David held up one hand in surrender and shifted his hulking frame in the seat. “Sorry.”

“I've heard stories from my grandfather,” Ivan said firmly. “Shit that went down before the treaty was signed. I have to be honest. I'm hoping you're about done there. It makes me highly uncomfortable to be around them.”

“Ah, they're not so bad.” David turned the wheel and pulled the car into the garage of their building. “Even that Damien guy, the bouncer, is cool. In fact, he cut me in to the pool for the big game next week. I've got fifty riding on it. Vamp knows his sports; I'll give him that. Justine and the girls are cool too, although that Maya chick gives me the creeps more than the others.”

Killian stilled. He knew exactly why Maya made them uncomfortable, even if they didn't.

“Maya or that mate of hers, Shane?” Ivan scoffed as the car came to a halt in their parking spot. “Shane is one dangerous sentry. I wouldn't want to have to fight him, and I get the feeling that if we even look at his woman sideways, he'll kill someone. Dude knows this city too. I'm sure he could hide a body with no problems.”

“What's the matter?” David teased, shutting off the ignition. “Afraid of a couple vampires? I thought you were a tough guy.”

“I am.” Ivan punched David on the arm in a not-so-playful manner. “Fuck you.”

“I dunno, you kind of sound like a pussy,” David said through a gritty laugh.

“Shane isn't a problem.” Killian got out of the car and slammed the door. He took off his jacket and breathed in the scent of the garage, instinctively searching for anyone or anything that might be lurking. Finding nothing other than the distinct scent of wet cement, he headed for the elevator, Ivan and David right behind him. “Neither is Maya.”

Ivan and David didn't respond and their silence spoke volumes. They weren't convinced that Maya was harmless, and he couldn't really blame them. Killian knew exactly why Maya made them uncomfortable, but as promised, he'd kept her deadly secret.

Killian swiped his key card and pushed the button for the penthouse before they rode in the elevator in silence. He sensed his friends' uneasiness, and even though he wanted to tell them more to put their worries to rest, he knew he couldn't. He'd promised Olivia and her coven that he would keep Maya's secret, and Killian always kept his word.

No matter what.

If a man didn't have his honor, he had nothing. His late brother, Horace, had failed to grasp that particular concept and it cost him his life. Killian's mouth set in a tight line as a cavalcade of unpleasant memories roared to the surface. Horace had been a traitor, and when his plans to overthrow their father were revealed, he'd challenged Killian—and lost.

When an alpha is challenged, it's a fight to the death.

The soft ding of the elevator signaled their arrival. Killian shoved the unpleasant memories aside as the doors opened. He strode into the entry hall of the lavish penthouse duplex, intent on not feeding nightmares that couldn't be undone.

He liked this new place so much better than the hotel where they'd been staying. With the open floor plan and floor-to-ceiling windows, it felt more like home than living in that damn hotel suite ever did. His father had even given his blessing on the long-term living arrangement. For years, the king had wanted to improve the relationship between their people and the vampires. Having his only surviving son and heir to the throne living in New York City was a good place to start.

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