A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) (23 page)

It wasn’t so much Cora’s worst nightmare as it was the most terrible reality possible come to fruition: a curse fulfilled, for that’s what she seemed to be.

Cursed.

Cursed to suffer till her dying breath.

And death was preferable to being held captive by Trent and Knox. They despised her. She could feel it in spades flowing from Knox. A confirmation that she had indeed established a dark bond with him.

With the onset of such familiar yet overwhelming fright, her body shut down,
her muscles nearly unresponsive. It was the first survival technique that had been beaten into her.

They wanted to talk?

No. They wanted her to admit something that was untrue. That she’d purposely bonded Mace, and now Knox. Who in their right mind would engage in such reckless behavior?

As Mace worked to explain their situation, Trent continued to demand she speak for herself while Knox trained a hate filled gaze on her, his fangs prominent as though he’d love nothing more than to rip her throat out.

But even if her esophagus wasn’t scalded from Trent’s greeting, she couldn’t make her vocal cords work in her favor. They were trained for this. To be silent and just accept the pain. To cry and whimper only when she was once more alone. The only response her body gave at all was the falling of tears. That always pleased Edgar, made him watch her with fascination instead of malicious intent.

She wasn’t sure how long it took—time had become meaningless—but eventually they realized she’d become frozen in the recesses of her mind. It was home for her there.
Her last peaceful refuge. Even Mace had stopped getting through when she snuggled in and tuned out.

He’d continued answering Trent’s questions as best he could, but after a while, all she heard was a mixture of deep timbres. 

“I can’t learn the truth if she refuses to speak,” Trent said irritably.

“I’ve told you the truth,” Mace insisted. “She knows nothing of the black-market blood or Brayden’s disappearance besides what I’ve
relayed to her. She not involved.”

“You
really expect me to believe she’s innocent in all this?” Trent asked, incredulous. At least he had calmed down considerably.

“Have you forgotten she’s bonded me?” Knox chimed in, disgruntled.

“It’s your own fault,” Mace shot back at him, anger seething in the layers of his accusation. “You wouldn’t be bonded now if you hadn’t forced your fangs on her.”

“The witch was practically begging for it, batting those pretty eyes at me.”

Mace clenched his fists. “Right, and she thanked you with a knee to the groin. I guess it’s like you always say, you
do
like it rough.”

“So will
she when I’m done with her.”

“You touch her and I’ll slice you open, slowly.
Starting with that tiny prick of yours.”

“You’d better bring a big knife because there
ain’t nothin’ tiny about it, mate.”

Trent pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Enough already. Unless one of you is actually going to kill the other, then shut the fuck up.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, as it appears, both the
bondings
were accidental. That I’ll grant, for now. But she’s still a witch, and I find it hard to believe she didn’t know.”

Mace proceeded to explain what they’d learned from
Saraphine’s spell. “Before we left, Saraphine promised to start work on an unbinding spell.”

“You dimwitted
git!” Knox’s accent had grown thick. “She’s practically helpless right now, and you want to reverse that?”

“You’re a real shit, Knox,” Mace spat.

“Gold plated and smellin’ like roses. Why is she acting so pathetic, anyway?”

“She’s been mistreated by our kind repeatedly. One that I know of was particularly cruel.” Mace glanced at Cora, hating that it was him explaining this rather than her. “It sounded like
she and her parents had been claimed by a clan against their will or something when she was young.”

Trent cocked his head.
“For what purpose?”

“I’m not sure. When her parents
died, she fell prey to another vamp, most likely during the end of the last uprising. A soldier. Psychotic, from what she’s revealed. I doubt I’ve heard the full story. She was only ten at the time.”

Trent cursed. Knox appeared bored, his expression blank.

Mace continued, “I realize some witches use our kind through the blood bond, but she’s not like that. In fact, when she found out about the bond, she was most interested to know how long it would last.

“Probably because she has to figure out when she’ll need to reinforce the bond,” Knox accused.

Mace raised his voice for Knox, though he spoke to Trent. “She can hardly wait for the bond to fade.”

“What did you tell her?” Trent asked.

“I thought she was human at the time. I said it would fade swiftly. She was relieved. I could feel it.” He lowered his voice. “She’ll be devastated when she finds out…”

“Finds out what?” Knox demanded.

Mace glanced at Cora. She stared at nothing as if she’d completely checked out. “How fast a blood bond with a witch fades is determined by the strength of the witch.

“At least, that’s the theory,” Trent added. “There could be other factors involved.”

Knox scrutinized her. “She looks pretty weak to me. With luck, I’ll be free of her by the end of the week.”

“We can only hope,” Mace hissed under his breath. “Just keep your blood away from her from now on.”

“Well, would you say that’s accurate?” Trent interrupted before another argument could erupt. “As far as witches go, is she weak?”

Mace shook his head. “With her magic bound, who can say? But she’s endured more than most could even imagine. If her character is anything to go by, there’s nothing weak about her.”

“Are you kidding?” Knox scoffed. “Look at her!”

He did, wanting to tuck her into his side
, but he feared she’d flinch away from him. Instead, he replied, “Like I said. She’s been through a lot in the last couple of days.”

Trent waved a negligent hand at her. “How long is she going to be like this?”

“It took me a while just to get her to feel comfortable around me, and I hadn’t even threatened her like the two of you have. Not to mention all I’d had to do to prove myself worthy of her trust. You’ll both need to check your aggression around her. Try to be gentle—”

Knox interrupted.
“Or what? Your wee witch will crack like glass?”

“Knox,” Trent chided.

Knox threw his hands in the air. “What is this, a therapy session? Sounds like you’ve both gone soft.”

Trent displayed no reaction to Knox’s jibe.

Mace struggled to remain just as calm. “I wish you would have left when I asked you to.”

“That makes two of us.” Knox crossed his arms.  “But the little bitch has made that impossible now.”

“Call her that again, and I’ll shove my gun so far up your ass you’ll taste copper before you die!”

“Promise you’ll buy me dinner first.”

Trent pushed out of the chair. “Now I remember why I separated you two.” To Mace, he ordered, “Take the girl upstairs and get her some rest.”

All too ready to get her out of here, Mace stood and pulled her into his arms, then headed for their room.

“And Mace?”

He paused at the bottom of the staircase.

“Watch her closely. I’m not sure I fully believe all this, and if she tries to escape, I really will kill her.”

Knox’s narrowed gaze followed the chit in Mason’s arms. Before they disappeared to the second floor, Mason mirrored his hostile glare.

The girl was good. Her fabricated grim expression hadn’t faltered once. Mace was so easily duped. The moron was bonded, yet couldn’t even decipher her emotions. There had been no fear in her, but for the initial impression he’d received when Trent had threatened her life. After that, all trace of emotion in her had drained away. She’d been like a bottomless pit of emptiness.

Heartlessness.

Knox had been bonded only one other time, to a human girl. He recalled the sharing of emotions to be a constant irritant. An annoyance he’d been glad to be rid of. There had been no reprieve until the bond had been severed a few very long months later when the girl had been murdered.

He clenched his fist.

He hoped Mason’s witch
did
attempt to escape. If she were to die, the bond would be broken instantly. And if Trent proved to be as gullible as Mason, Knox might need to take care of things on his own. But for now, he would hold off on that route and indulge the two do-gooders who fancied their detective work.

However, for everyone’s sake, there was something that required his immediate attention.

“I’m heading out for a bite,” he told Trent, beating a path to the door.

Trent ran thick fingers through his dark hair. “Good idea. I’ll join you.”

Knox halted. “Shouldn’t you make sure that witch stays put?”

“Mace is with her.”

He laughed. “Lover boy is a puppet now. If she wanted, he’d carry her out on his back with two broken legs.”

Trent shared in his revelry,
then shook his head as if at a loss. “Alright. I’ll go out once you return. Don’t be long.”

Strolling out the door, he called back, “I don’t plan on it.” It was almost too easy to convince Trent not to follow.

Thirty minutes later, Knox hid in the shadows of an alley, waiting for his prey. Most of the town had closed down for the night. Only a few working light posts illuminated the streets in sporadic patterns, and most of those buzzed loudly and flickered. The light post that fronted his little niche was off, and had been for some time.

The alley stank of trash and decay. A stack of black bags carved out a spot near the opposite end. It wasn’t the best part of town, but it wasn’t exactly the worst either.

After another twenty minutes, his target finally emerged from the shop across the street, unaware of his hunter’s gaze. She turned her back, locking the shop door behind her. Then she crossed the street, taking the path she always did. This was his town, and he knew nearly everyone’s routine. She would cross his path in three, two, one…

He whipped his arm out and snatched her around the waist. His free hand went to her mouth to prevent her building scream as he easily pulled her into the darkness and planted her against the wall. The weight of his body caged her in.

“Hello, Saraphine,” he said.

Her impossibly wide eyes went even wider. Yes, she recognized him. He frequented the shitty bars in this small town often to feed from one of the locals. He preferred them to the blood whores.

He scented the sweet fragrance of Saraphine’s racing pulse, mentally cursing when he remembered that there would be no pleasure in tasting it. All other blood would be like ash in his mouth thanks to Mason’s witch.

“You had a visitor earlier,” he said, his
voice smooth. “A witch. You remember? She commissioned a spell to unbind her magic.”

Saraphine
nodded, fear wafting from her pores.

His eyes glowed as he weaved compulsion into his next words. “You’ll proceed to craft a spell, just as you promised, but it won’t do as requested. It won’t unbind her powers. You’re young, still learning your craft. Perhaps you add the wrong
ingredient, say the wrong words. What sort of mistake is yours to choose. Nod so I know you understand me.”

Her expression blanked, and she nodded again. He contemplated taking her vein, if only for nourishment, but he knew it would not alleviate his hunger. And, at the moment, he had a mighty craving for a doe-eyed blond-haired witch.

“Now forget you saw me and run along.” He released Saraphine and swatted her ass, sending her on her way.

Though he’d removed her fear along with the compulsion, her natural sense of danger must be keen. Her pace was unusually swift as she headed away from him.

* * *

Cora came to as if from out of a fog. She found herself lying on a bed. Mace hovered over her. His concern pooled around her so thickly she didn’t need to look up to know it was written all over his face.

“Cora?” he said as though he’d repeated it several times already.

How long had he been chanting her name, trying to bring her back from wherever it was she’d escaped to? Her throat still burned with an inner soreness, so in response, she raised her hand to stroke her fingers along his jaw, feeling a bit of stubble. He turned his head and kissed her palm.

“Here, take some of my blood.” He brought his wrist to his mouth, preparing to bite down.

She shook her head. “No.” The word came out like sand paper, and she winced at the accompanying sting.

“A small amount will heal you without any side effects.”

“Where’s…” She trailed off when her throat closed in protest.

Mace sliced a fang into his wrist and held it out for her. Warily, she eyed the deep red drop forming there.

“Please, I can feel your discomfort.”

The increased agony as she tried to swallow had her relenting after only a slight hesitation. She licked away the drop and then waited. Mace nodded for her to take more, but she shook her head. She could already feel his blood going to work, like the soothing balm of a lozenge. Yet a slight tenderness lingered. Another drop might smother it, but she didn’t want to lose herself to the lust that followed overindulgence. She told him as much, her voice coming clearer, and he withdrew his arm.

“Where are they?” she asked.

“Downstairs,” he said. “Where were
you
? It felt like you weren’t even here, yet at the same time, you were.”

She sat up and surveyed the room, verifying they were alone. The instinct to escape was intense, but she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not only would the other two stop her, maybe kill her, but Mace seemed unalarmed by their
current situation. He was calm now, which meant he trusted his comrades more than he feared for her. Even if she begged for him to take her somewhere else, he would only make a case to stay.

“I go to a place where pain doesn’t exist,” she replied. “It’s sort of like blacking out. It used to happen a lot when I was younger. When…well, anyway. I haven’t experienced it in a long time.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Do we need to remain here? Can we go?” Involuntarily, her hands clutched his shirt.

He sighed and took her hands in his. “They won’t hurt you now, I promise.” He explained Trent’s misunderstanding, then added, “He’s my sire. In human terms, that’s like a patron. Our leader. And it’s his duty to protect his clan. That’s the only reason why he went after you. He thought you were controlling me.”

“But Knox is going to kill me. He wants to. I can feel it.”

“He won’t, though. He knows I’ll gut him if he tried. Trent would too, if only for disobeying a direct order.”

She shook her head, disbelieving.

“I swear to you, I won’t let them harm you again.”

Her teeth clenched as his resolve settled over her. “You must be strong then. You should drink.” She swept her hair aside.

Mace reared back. “I…I don’t want you to feel forced. I can manage without.”

“I can feel your hunger.”

“Yes, but I can feed from others.”

“But doing so would only keep you alive. It wouldn’t satisfy you, or provide the kind of strength my blood would, correct?”

Mace didn’t respond, which was tantamount to an affirmation.

“So then, go ahead.” She tilted her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut.

“You’re only offering because you feel obligated. That’s not how I want it.”

As if a trap door was released, her patience left her in a rush, replaced by anger. “I don’t have a choice anymore, do I?”

Mace frowned and sat back. They both remained silent for a tense moment.

She sighed,
tempering her anger. “I’m accepting this, Mace. Them. You. I’m accepting my lot—”

“I don’t want you to have to
accept your lot
—”

“And if I had to be bound to any vampire in the world, I’m only grateful that it was you.” She edged toward him, unabashedly straddling his lap, and settled her arms around his neck.

His body stiffened, and he placed his palms at her waist, unconsciously snaking his thumbs under the hem of her shirt. She leaned forward and allowed her lips to brush his in a gentle kiss. It was obvious he wanted more, but he kept himself in check.

She continued. “You said you loved me. I don’t know if you really meant it—”

“I did.”

She couldn’t keep a tiny grin from conquering her lips, but they quickly settled back into a frown. “I’m going to be frank with you. I’ve come to
…care for you. However, love is not something I can offer right now.”

His features turned inscrutable
, but for a thinning of his lips. She truly hated that what she said now hurt him, but she had to make sure he knew where she stood.

“What I
can
offer is my blood. So you can be strong. So you can protect me.”

He grinned, but it was a bitter sight.
“My little survivalist.”

She ignored that. “And my body, because I know you want it.”

At that, she waited for his fury to erupt. It bubbled and churned just under the surface. She waited. And waited.

Finally, he took command of himself and drew in a de
ep breath. “You’d sleep with me just so I’ll protect you?”

She jerked her head back sharply, appalled. “No. Not for that reason.” She blushed, embarrassment now overtaking
her. “It was…I mean…when we…I…”

His grin became genuine, instantly placated by the rambling, convoluted confession that only two people in the world could fully understand
because they were blood bonded. “You enjoyed yourself, did you?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling too wide. “Don’t tease me.”

“Why not? You light up when I do.”

“I do not—”

He cut her off with a sudden kiss. A demanding kiss that rendered her earlier one amateurish.

When he pulled away to speak, his voice had become guttural. “You
care
for me, huh? I guess I can live with that, for now. But one day, I’ll take your heart, along with your body.”

He flipped her to the mattress, hunching over her as he claimed her mouth with rough abandon. He wedged himself between her legs before he ripped the fabric of her sweats straight in half down the middle.

A little bit of unease melted through the heat of her passion. “Mace?”

His smile was wicked. “Guess you’ll not be wearing these again. Good thing I thought to provide you some clothing.” He eyed her white button-down shirt. “You can keep that. I like you in it.”

His sudden aggression was alarming at first, till she recognized where it came from. It was more natural for vampires to behave this way. Mace had been modulating himself around her from the start. Caging his urges for her. Now she had all but set him free, offered herself up to his inhuman appetites.

And she wasn’t afraid.

She tugged at his shirt, wanting it off him. He obliged, shrugging out of it and tossing it aside. She ran her hands over the planes and valleys that made up the tightly packed muscles of his torso. They contracted for her in a vision of perfect masculinity.

As she allowed her fingers to play, he methodically unbuttoned her shirt, starting at the top. He must truly like this particular piece of menswear on her
to take such care with it now.