Her teeth ground together, those sharp little fangs slashing at her gums. "How are you going to find another vampire if they're forbidden from coming up here?"
His stare became piercing. "Twice a year, several do come topside. For food. Sometimes those hunters are caught and sold at slave auctions."
The words settled between them like heavy stones, dragging them into the dark, thick mire of memory.
"I'm not going to a slave auction," she bit out. "Not as a slave to be sold, no."
Every muscle in her beautiful body tensed. Was she pissed? Jealous? He wanted her to be jealous. Which was odd. He truly did despise jealousy in his lovers. He never allowed it or tolerated it. But Bride wanted so little from him, gave so little, he was latching on to every scrap she threw his way.
Looks like you'll be wiping away drool, after all. His jaw hardened with the thought. Hell. No. He was desired and craved throughout the galaxies. He was not a whipped schoolboy panting after a specific piece of ass.
"You're angry," she said with surprise. "Why?"
There was a sudden, frantic knock at the front door, and as it echoed through the bedroom, Bride paled and scrambled from the bed. She didn't bolt from the bedroom, though, but stood unsteadily, eyeing the exit with trepidation.
"What's wrong?" he found himself asking, anger forgotten. Do not approach her. Do not put your hands on her.
"Do—do you think that's Aleaha?"
He nodded, hoping that would soothe her. "I'm sure of it."
"She's early, and I'm not ready." Bride licked her lips, still not budging from that spot. "What if... what if she ran from me, all those years ago, and has been hiding from me?"
Her uncertainty reminded him of the boy he'd once been. The boy who had put on his best clothes
and snuck into his mother's wing of the palace to give her a birthday present. The boy who had knocked on his mother's door, hoping, praying for a smile, even a hug, when he gave her the picture he'd drawn for her. The boy who'd had to throw the gift away, because his mother had looked at it, thanked him, and placed it back in his hands before shutting the door in his face.
"She likes you, sweetheart. I swear it. She's been searching for you, intending to save you from my wrath."
More knocking.
"Coming, coming," Dallas shouted from the living room.
"Why did it take me so long to find her, then? Why did I only recently discover her scent?"
She looked so vulnerable, Devyn's heart actually swelled in his chest, aching, grinding against his ribs. He was at her side before he realized he'd moved, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.
She rested her head in the hollow of his neck, her tremors vibrating into him. Her night-wild scent wafted to his nose, and he breathed deeply. The silk of her hair tickled his chin. He'd never held a woman like this. Just held her, an offer of comfort with no expectation of sex. As her hands gripped his back, as though she wanted to step inside him, be a part of him, he wondered why he'd resisted such a thing. This was paradise.
"Yo, Dev," Dallas called. "Macy's here, and she's about to claw my face off for holding her back.”
“Then say good-bye to your face. We're not ready."
A frowning Bride drew back. "Macy?"
"Remember. Aleaha took Macy's identity. Just be glad her boyfriend, Breean, isn't here. You'd have to endure an interrogation before touching her."
The frown faded, leaving her vulnerable again. "Does Breean know who she really is? Does he treat her right? Is he rich?"
"Yes, he knows, and yes, he does. He loves her. And why do you care if he's rich?”
“We promised each other we'd never marry anyone who was poor."
"He's rich." I'm richer, he wanted to add, but didn't. His finances didn't matter, as he'd never remarry. "Are we ready now? Macy will be happy to see you." If Macy turned him into a liar and did not welcome Bride the way she deserved, he was going to kill her. Slowly, painfully.
"Yes."
"Send her in, Dal," he finally called. Even as he spoke, he moved away from Bride. His arms tingled where they'd been in contact with her.
The door flew open, and Macy raced inside. When she spotted Bride, she gasped and stopped. Her hands tented over her mouth.
Bride gulped, then nervously licked her lips. Devyn had watched her take down a human slaver. She hadn't flinched or betrayed a hint of nerves when he'd killed said slaver in front of her. But now, she was eaten up with worry. Over a friend who might not love her anymore.
His chest started aching again.
And when tears filled her eyes, he almost fell to his knees. Tears had never affected him. How could they? Giving in to them would mean he was involved, not just with his body but with his mind. It would mean he harbored affection for the crier—affection he didn't understand or condone. But here, now, seeing Bride's emerald eyes liquefy ... he was struck with the urge to do anything and everything in his power to ensure she never had reason to cry again. What the hell?
"Did you hurt her?" Macy suddenly demanded of him.
"No," he said. "And I won't." Maybe. "And before you ask, no, she's not a prisoner." Yet. The women looked at each other. Both remained silent, as if they were too afraid to speak. "Hello, Aleaha," Bride finally said, gaze intense. "You've grown."
A trembling Macy nodded. "Hello. You're just the same."
When one of those tears splashed onto Bride's cheek, Devyn stepped toward her, meaning to comfort her again. But with a joyous cry, Macy suddenly ran past him and threw herself into Bride's arms.
"It's you. It's really you."
Bride's gaze met his for a split second, wonder in their depths. Then she was hugging Macy with all her might, crying harder, laughing, twirling. "I can't believe I found you. I've been looking so long. So damn long. I only stumbled on your scent a few weeks ago."
"I've been looking for you, too! I was afraid something had happened to you.”
“Where did you go that night?"
They were talking over each other, but somehow he understood every word.
"One of the officers had hung back while the others chased you," Macy explained. "He found me and dragged me to their car. I escaped before they could lock me up, but someone else grabbed me and knocked me out. I woke up in a plane with other kids being carted God knows where. I had to take the identity of a guard, but managed to free the kids before working my way back to New Chicago. I looked for you but couldn't find you. I was afraid my scent had been buried underneath all the new identities I'd taken, and I guess I was right. You only just started smelling me again, and I only just let myself be me again. Well, me and Macy. Breean helps me."
"Oh, Leah," Bride said, and Devyn had never heard her use such a gentle, loving, fiercely motherly tone. "I'm so sorry! Did anyone hurt you? Tell me their names, and I'll find and kill them."
"I'm fine, I'm fine. But what about you?" Macy cupped Bride's cheeks and studied her face. "Like I said, you're just the same, just as lovely."
"And you're ten times as lovely. Look at all that dark hair, those bright green eyes. And you have the breasts you always dreamed about having."
The two shared a laugh.
So she could see the woman underneath Macy's skin, Devyn realized. Impressive.
"When I learned Devyn had found you, I almost died. I'd been searching, had no luck, and suddenly he was on the hunt to bed you. Did he hurt you?" Macy demanded.
"No." Her cheeks flushed to a pretty pink, and she flicked him a glance. He shrugged, sheepish. He'd never made a secret of his desires.
"Oh," Bride said. "I have your necklace." She removed it and anchored it around Macy's neck.
The two women returned to their conversation, and he continued to watch them, strangely happy with the way things had turned out.
His phone vibrated, and he dug it out of his pocket. The number belonged to Breean. He was moaning inside as he answered.
"I knew you would do the right thing," Breean said without preamble. "You knew I had Bride?"
"I knew you were close to finding her and using my woman to do it. But I let you, because the end result was all that mattered."
"And if I had betrayed her?”
“I would have killed you."
It was stated so simply, Devyn knew the big guy had already planned it out. Just in case. Couldn't blame him, really. "You would have tried," was all he said.
Breean chuckled. "You underestimated me once before, my friend, and I locked you up."
That he had. In the end, Devyn had still won. "You know, I'm starting to like you. We should hang out more."
Breean choked, his breath crackling over the line. "I won't bed you. Now or ever."
Devyn rolled his eyes. "As if you're handsome enough to win the likes of me." The thought of being with someone else, however, slipped into his mind and refused to leave. Bride was affecting him, and he didn't like it. Perhaps if he bedded another woman, he'd stop thinking of Bride so intently. Perhaps he'd stop this cursed softening. Once more, tears would no longer affect him, and jealousy would no longer delight him.
Yes. That's what he'd do. Just as soon as he turned Bride over to AIR.
CHAPTER 14
Bride hadn't seen Devyn in days. Three days, eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes, to be exact. Three days, eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes she'd spent inside AIR headquarters.
Though she'd committed a crime by stealing Nolan, she wasn't a prisoner; they'd oh, so nicely asked her to stay as Devyn had told her they would. They recognized her abilities and wanted her happy, but they also wanted easy access to her. Had she insisted on leaving, they would have caved on the issue, she was sure, but she hadn't. She stayed for Aleaha, who visited her every day. Or rather, Macy. That was the name her friend now used, so that was the name Bride needed to call her. By citing Macy as the reason for her compliance, she hopefully made Macy look good to those in charge.
Wasn't like it was a hardship to stay. She had a comfortable bed, a small dresser with her changes of clothes, a portable enzyme shower, and a fridge and microwave for bags of plasma. Yeah, she was a pincushion, poked and prodded every few hours. It wasn't such a bad deal, though. The agents were surprisingly friendly and had honored her request for them not to wear perfume around her.
So ... why hadn't Devyn checked on her?
She knew the answer to that, she thought, fuming. He'd had her. He'd won. Like she'd suspected, once a man like him got his target in bed, he became tired of her. The bastard. God, what a fool she was. She should have resisted harder.
She paced the length of her cell, her boots digging into the tiles. There'd been talk about him. She knew Devyn had taken some stupid female out on a date. A date! With the otherworlder, there was only one way that could have ended. In bed. Naked. Doing the things she and Devyn had done in her bed. Only more.
Doesn't matter. You knew it would end this way. Still, her fangs and nails were elongated, and what little blood coursed through her veins was like white lightning, sizzling, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck and razing her chest.
Think of something else before you combust. She knew several AIR agents had moved into her apartment to keep track of Nolan, too afraid to transport him. How was he? Still healthy? She hoped so. He wasn't a bad guy.
The only door to her cell slid open, and three female agents strode inside. One of them clutched a plastic basket filled with needles, tubes, and bandages.
"Time for another withdrawal already?" she moaned. She should tell them no more needle sticks for a while, but she did want them to find out if her blood was indeed a cure for Nolan's virus. If Al— Macy were ever infected, she wanted the cure available immediately.
"Yep, we're here for a little more juice," one of the girls said. "Sorry." A pause, a frown. "You look paler in person than you do on the monitors. Plasma not to your liking?"
"No." At this rate, she'd be drained by the end of the week. The plasma had sickened her more than usual, and she'd been unable to absorb even those first few little mouthfuls.
Every day she edged closer to starvation, and these women with their strong pulses weren't helping. They were a mouthwatering temptation, her tongue swelling for a taste. Don't drink from Macy's coworkers. Don't you dare drink from Macy's coworkers.
"I'd offer to feed you," the second girl said, "but Mia said we couldn't. She doesn't want our blood masking the effects of yours."
Bride strode to the chair and table that had been set up for this type of thing. The woman with the basket moved in front of her, red hair fluttering around her chin; the other two moved behind Bride. They were the guard dogs, she suspected, just in case she went feral.
They were all young, no older than thirty, and pretty in their own ways. What surprised her, though, was the fact that they didn't seem disgusted by her need for blood. They had shrugged off her dislike of the plasma and would have offered themselves if possible. Where was the horror she'd always dreaded?
"I haven't seen you guys before," she remarked. Everyone who visited her was female, but never the same one twice. She'd begun to wonder if there were any male agents besides Devyn and Dallas.
"There's a waiting list to meet you," one of the girls behind her said. "We finally got our turn." A waiting list? For her? "Why?”