Blood-Bonded by Force (30 page)

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Authors: Tracy Tappan

BOOK: Blood-Bonded by Force
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With his mind still on a
screw it
path to trouble, he ran his hands up the side of her ribcage to—

She still wasn’t paying any attention to him. He growled low, the noise scorching a path from his chest, up his throat, and through his nostrils. Hauling her around, he tangled a fist in her hair, forcing her to meet his eyes—
his
eyes. “Stop looking at that fuck pig.”

She startled for a heartbeat, then she must’ve figured he was setting their fight in motion.

She gave him a hard shove.

He stumbled backward two paces, then caught his footing.

Pändra turned toward a tall, broad dude working his way through the dancers. Edgar. Her hips moved sinuously as she sauntered in the other man’s direction, promising him all kinds of ecstasy.

Thomal lifted his lip in a possessive snarl.
She’s playing the game. Chill-ax
. He watched a dark, venal desire shift into his wife’s expression, promising Edgar everything she wasn’t giving to her own husband, and there was no
chilling
to be had.

Thomal stepped forward, manacled his fingers around Pändra’s wrist, and jerked her back toward him.

Rolling with what she clearly thought was more of the show, her other hand shot out and cracked him across his face, rattling several back teeth. He staggered.

She spun away from him and launched herself at Edgar. Her legs wrapped his waist, her arms circled his neck, and then a nuclear bomb went off because…She planted her lips against the dude’s in an open-mouthed, jaw-working kiss.

Vicious heat napalmed Thomal’s entire body. Reasonable warrior went
see ya later, alligator
and bonded male Vârcolac came rampaging out.

His fangs ruptured out of his gums and he flew forward with a wall-rattling roar.

* * *

Panting from streaking down flour flights of stairs wearing five-inch heels, Pändra dove into the Dodge cargo van, making it inside just as the filth arrived. Three black and white cruisers squealed to a stop in front of the
Iron Cock’s apartment building, their bright lights strobing through the Dodge’s windshield. The van door slammed shut, and Dev rammed his foot to the gas pedal, stonking it around a corner.

Pändra straightened in her seat, her outfit plastered uncomfortably to her body by sweat. The van was fitted with two long, removable bench seats facing each other. She was on the bench aimed forward, next to Nỵko. Thomal and Gábor were seated across from her on the rear-facing one.

Several tense moments throbbed past.

Dev’s hands were knuckle-white on the steering wheel. “Did anyone see your fangs during your shit fit?”

“I don’t know,” Thomal answered, tight-lipped, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

You should see the other guy
, would’ve fit perfectly here. Edgar was now wearing his head backward and the
Iron Cock was all but demolished. When a Vârcolac went berserk, he certainly didn’t do the job half-arsed.

“Dammit to hell,” Dev ground out. “You’re on report, Costache,
and
I’m putting you on elevator cable duty next month.”


What
?!” Thomal blasted.

“Oh, ho, ho,” Gábor laughed.

That wouldn’t be any fun. From what Pändra understood, a group of
Ţărână’s construction workers had to climb the half-mile elevator shafts once a year to grease the cables and check for fraying. She’d heard it was sweaty, exhausting, back-breaking work.

“That’s assed up, Nichita.”

“You knew what needed to go down on this mission,” Dev countered sharply. “And you approved it.”

Thomal’s face darkened. “Maybe I didn’t expect my mate to be quite so fucking thorough in her seduction.” He rounded on her. “You
kissed
that cockbox, Pändra.”

“No,” she said quietly.

“I saw you,” Thomal hissed.

“I mean, no, I’m not your mate. I’m a bottle of blood you booze up on whenever you need a fix.” Her lungs hurt. Going back to smoking after so many months, probably. Or maybe it was the pain of being filled with too many cobras. “You don’t have the right to call me a mate, or even to expect me to act like one, if you’re not going to treat me like one.”

Thomal’s eyes flashed. “What the hell does that mean, Pändra? You
wanted
to bone Edgar?”

“Jesus wept.” He was so stupid. And blind. “Why don’t you admit why you’re truly in a dither, Thomal?” She leaned forward in her seat. “Not because Edgar wanted to shag me. But because
you
did. Dirty, disgusting, hateful Pändra.” Tears balled in her chest. Her stomach wrenched. “I fully realize that I’ve had a dear bill to pay for what I did. I understand that. So tell me what I need to do to pay it.
Tell me what I need to do
to earn your forgiveness and I’ll do it, I swear. Because I can’t keep living like this.”

Thomal swiped the back of his hand across his bloody lip.

She sat back. “Living in Ţărână has…has done things to me, Thomal. It’s changed me. It’s not fair to show me all the possibilities in life and then not give me a chance to have them. Family and children, and…” A tear rose to the corner of her eye, but she blinked it back. “I’ve always known I’d have nippers one day—it’s what I’m bred for—but Raymond would’ve controlled them. Now there’s this whole community, and…I want things. But if I can’t have them, ever, then I
am
hanging on a meat hook as no more than your blood source, even if it’s only fecking metaphorical.”

Thomal stared down at the floor of the van, his face and neck rigid, his voice sadly absent.

So that’s your answer.
She swallowed once and shored herself up, puttying enough pieces back into place to say what needed to be said next. “You have to kill me, then.”

Thomal’s eyes bolted up.

She didn’t waver. “Or if you can’t, have someone else do the task. My death will free you.” No actual tears fell, but on the inside, her heart wept huge, drowning drops. “And me, as well,” she added on a whisper.

Dev’s grip tightened on the steering wheel again.

Nỵko fiddled his hands together in his lap.

Silence engulfed them all like a malaise.

At last there was the
grumble
of the elevator moving, then twenty long minutes later, the bicycle chain
whisk
of the garage doors opening.

Then there was another noise.

As the five of them stepped from the van, they all heard it.

The community’s emergency Om Rău breach alarm was blaring.

Chapter Thirty-three

Ţărână
was under attack!

Faith raced out onto her bedroom balcony and looked down on Main Street, her heart thumping hard and fast. Women were screaming and running, some clutching children, most being rushed along by their husbands. Behind them, a swarm of dark-clothed men was bearing down on the fleeing townsfolk like an infestation of mutant black insects.

Faith gripped the railing as she watched people of the community being felled beneath brutal punches or bludgeoning clubs.
Kacie
!
Where are you
?! She frantically searched the chaos for her sister and her aunt.
Please, let them be

Faith gasped.
Marissa
! Dev’s wife was falling behind in the confusion. Hugely pregnant, Marissa couldn’t move at much more than an ungainly hobble, and as she lagged farther and farther back, two—
No
! Two red-haired Om Rău grabbed Marissa under her arms and scooped her off her feet.

Marissa’s face went ashen with terror and her hands scrabbled protectively toward her swollen belly.

“No!” Faith screamed.

Dev Nichita appeared out of nowhere, seeming to rise up from the very cave rock. His eyes glowed pure murder, his fangs extended like twin white blades. He grabbed the two redheaded Om Rău by the backs of their skulls and rammed them at each other face on face. Their heads exploded like two plates of Spaghetti Bolognese thrown together.

Faith staggered back and gagged.

Dev snatched his wife into his arms and took off like thunder for the mansion.

Faith pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes watering from the bitterness in her throat. She thought she’d seen the worst of violence when Adonis had strangled Bald Guy, but that had been nothing compared to—

Her hand flopped down to her side as she gaped in awestruck horror at the man who’d just appeared on Main Street.

Nearly eight feet tall, he was
unreal
, dressed in a black leather loincloth, short black boots, and that was all…besides the adornment of a T-shaped chain that swung from his pierced nipples down to his pierced navel. A glorious mane of bright red hair fell down his back and well past his butt, turning him into a creature both beautiful and savage.

Bulldozing through the crowd, the redheaded savage charged straight for The TradeMark clothing store. Without bothering with anything so insignificant as a door, he crashed through the plate glass window in a burst of jagged shards, stomping a mannequin in half as he stormed inside.

Beth Costache’s petrified scream rang out.

Faith clutched a hand to her throat.

Faith, I’m here, I’m safe
.

Faith swung her head around and peered at one of the balconies below, relief nearly taking her knees out when she saw her sister standing with a group of friends.

Oslo, London, Dublin, Berlin—all the second-floor balconies below were filling with people. Faith couldn’t see Rome, directly beneath her feet, but could hear the frantic chatter.

Faith knitted her brow at Kacie as she shared a moment of worry and fear with her twin.

Bull-throated shouting called Faith’s attention back to the town. She turned to look…and felt the blood drain from her cheeks. The redheaded savage was standing on a shelf of cave rock jutting over the town cinema. Faith could see him clearly. He was directly across from her balcony, about seventy-five feet away. He had Beth.

Another red-haired enemy was clutching Ellen the dentist, and still more Om Rău hovered behind the four.

Both women were white-faced and sobbing.

Beneath the shelf, several Vârcolac warriors were already scaling the cliff face: Dev, back on the scene now, plus Breen, Kasson, and Thomal, who was nearly unrecognizable with his purple-dyed hair and his sort-of clothes. Ellen’s husband, Pedrr, was also trying to climb the rock wall, but kept falling off in his panic.

Jaċken was standing in front of the movie theater, his legs planted wide, ruthless black eyes locked on the redheaded savage. Jaċken had a knife in his hand, but no place to throw it. The savage was holding Beth directly in front of him.

Ellen’s captor was similarly using her as a shield.

The redheaded savage gestured to Ellen. “Not one of the women I originally threatened to take, but she’ll do.” He laughed.

Faith cringed as the hair on her arms stood on end. Good God, that laugh was a chainsaw tearing through monkey bars—pure evil.

“You’ve captured two
mated
women,” Jaċken pointed out, his voice calm, but taut. “They’re of no use to you, Jøsnic.”

Jøsnic
…Faith had heard this story. Over a year ago a faction of Topside Om Rău had been in the middle of handing over Marissa, Hadley, and Kendra to some of the Underground Om Rău when the Vârcolac warriors had come to the rescue and stolen the women. Enraged at losing these precious Dragons, Jøsnic, leader of the Underground Om Rău, had invaded Ţărână and threatened to take Beth and the librarian, Hannah, if his three women weren’t returned. They
weren’t
returned, of course, and the town had lived with Jøsnic’s threat ever since. Today, it appeared, was the day of reckoning.

Jøsnic hugged Beth closer to his body, his forearm pushing up her breasts, and gave Jaċken a nasty smirk. “I can still find something to do with mated women.”

Beth whimpered, her lips quivering.

Jøsnic’s voice lowered to impossible octaves. “You
owe
me three women, Brun. You should’ve paid that debt with ones who didn’t mean shit to you when you had the chance. Ejøhn,” Jøsnic addressed one of the Om Rău behind him. “We have an unwelcome visitor.”

Goodness, Faith hadn’t even noticed Thomal, he’d moved so stealthily. Now he was at the top of the outcropping of rock, a knife clenched in his teeth like in the movies.

“Costache!” Dev yelled as the Om Rău named Ejøhn proceeded to step forward and drop a rock on top of Thomal.

But Thomal had already seen it and was rotating out of the way—unfortunately, the sharp, twisting evasive movement made him lose his grip. He fell.

Breen reached out to make a grab for him. For his efforts, he was pulled off the cliff face, too.

Whoom
! The boulder hit first, splatting apart against the cave floor, then Breen and Thomal followed, both men landing hard and rolling.

Shouts erupted behind Jøsnic and the air was suddenly cacophonous with the sounds of combat. Faith’s heart surged forward with hope. The Vârcolac had launched an attack from behind to save Beth and Ellen! She couldn’t see the fight—it was too far back on the outthrust of rock—but she could hear the thuds of blow meeting flesh, ragged breathing, incoherent oaths, and…and then the noises faded.

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