Bound By The Night (9 page)

I would have put him down.
She’d planned to kill him, but Latham had struck first.  He couldn’t kill her, because then he’d never get the blood he wanted from a corpse. And if he let her live, then he’d known she would attack him.

So he’d decided on a compromise.

Bastard.

“Iona?”  Jamie eased closer to her. “We should get out of here. Latham knows this is where you were going when you left Oregon.”

“And he’s coming.” No surprise. “When Michael caught the werewolf scent in the air, he thought you were just one of Latham’s army.”

You thought wrong, Michael.

She rolled her shoulders.  Weariness beat at her. She’d driven so far, non-stop, and Iona always felt drained whenever she used her fire and magic. 

She risked a look up into Jamie’s bright stare and knew he could see her weakness.

“You need to rest,” he told her.

True, but not likely. 

But when he offered his hand to her, Iona found herself stepping forward and actually clasping his fingers. So many had betrayed her over the years, but…some had been her true friends. 
Christine.
Iona could still see her so clearly in her mind. Her warm smile. Her perfect, dark skin.  Her kind eyes. “Latham killed my family.”

“And mine.” Fury vibrated in his words. She could understand that rage. It was no wonder he wanted vengeance against Latham.    

They were outside of the gate now. A big, black truck waited for them. She frowned at it for a moment.

Jamie laughed softly. “Ah, love, did you really think I ran all the way after you?”

Love?
It was the second time that he’d called her that. She’d just been
baby
before. But Iona pushed the thought aside as he guided her to the vehicle. Her legs wanted to go limp, so she slumped inside, sinking into the soft seat.

She would go with the werewolf, for now. She could always slip away from him later. She could slip away any time that she wanted.

In seconds, Jamie was in the truck with her. With a flick of his fingers, he started the ignition, and they left the heavy, stone walls behind them. Iona squeezed her eyes shut.

“I would have…brought you here,” Jamie said, voice hesitant. “You didn’t have to leave me.”

“I brought myself here.”  She could protect herself. She’d never needed anyone else to fight her battles. Still didn’t. “And maybe I was tired of being used.”  Because he was using her, too. She knew it. Wasn’t it always about the blood?

My blood. My power.
The werewolves just kept wanting it.

“Iona—”

“I want to shower.”  To wash away the ash on her skin. To wash away the death. She forced her eyes to open, and Iona glanced at him. “Find the nearest hotel or just…just find me a
safe place
.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw, but Jamie gave a grim nod. He didn’t speak again during the ride, and Iona was glad because the ghosts from her past—the vampires she’d lost—their memories were screaming at her as she left her home behind.

***

She was hurting.  Not a physical pain. Jamie had checked Iona’s body thoroughly and found no sign of wounds.

Her pain went far beneath the surface. 

Iona was in the shower, the water pouring down with a heavy thunder that he could hear clearly through the gleaming door.

He had found her a safe place. Not some pay-by-the-hour dump. She’d deserved better than that. The woman was a queen, and he’d gotten her the best room he could afford. Five freaking stars.

He wanted to do anything and everything he could in order to make her pain go away.  She’d seen enough pain, more than he’d ever expected.

I want her to be happy.

“I know you’re there…” Her voice drifted to him. Not a yell, just a whisper. That was all she needed to do…whisper, and his wolf could hear her. “Come inside, Jamie.”

His body hardened at the invitation. Hell, he’d already been hard, from the moment they entered the hotel. Iona had started to strip. Then she’d walked away. Shut the door. Closed him out.

But, now…she was inviting him inside…

He didn’t need to be invited twice.

Jamie nearly ripped the door off the hinges when he rushed into the bathroom.

The shower was huge. Easily bigger than the little house Sean had found for them back in Oregon. The place was lined with granite.  Some kind of stone bench was in the shower, and, in that shower, two different jets of water poured from opposite walls to slide down over Iona’s naked body.

She stood just behind the glass door. Steam drifted around her.  Her gaze met his, then she put her hand on the glass.

He could see the small birthmark on her palm. That mark had changed everything for her.

Jamie didn’t remember crossing the room, but suddenly, he was right in front of the shower door. His hand lifted and covered hers. Only that thin pane of glass separated his flesh from hers. 

Her gaze met his.  He could see the edge of her fangs peeking out from beneath her red lips. 

“Will it be like before?” Iona asked him. “So much pleasure…it let me forget all the pain.”

Her words pierced deep into him.
No more pain.
Jamie lifted his hand. Stripped. Opened the door. Reached for her. His fingers skimmed over  the silken flesh that had been heated by the pounding water. “This time, it will be even better.” 

“Promises, promises…”

He noticed that some of the shadows had lifted from her gaze.
So beautiful that she makes me ache.

His fingers curled around hers, and he bent to taste her.
Mine.
Her lips parted. Her tongue met his.  There was no hesitation in her. Iona knew what she wanted, and she was taking it.

Jamie knew exactly what he wanted, too, and he’d be damned if he ever gave her up.

They were hungry from the start. Wild. Full of lust and need. Their kisses were hard, their tongues tasting. He’d never get enough of her.  He
never
wanted to taste another woman. The taste would be bitter. But Iona…

Perfect.

Their hands were greedy and eager. Iona’s body was slick from the soap and water. Her fingers brushed over his chest. Over the old scars—some he’d gotten just as a child, long before he could shift and heal—that would always mark him.

Then…she slid down onto her knees before him.

Jamie hadn’t expected the move, and he tried to pull back. “You don’t need to—”

“I
want
this.” Demanding, not asking.

As if he’d deny her anything.

Then her mouth closed around the tip of his cock, and Jamie’s knees locked. Sweet fucking hell.  Her tongue rasped over him. She took him in deeper as she sucked his flesh. The low moan that Iona gave vibrated along his cock and had him nearly exploding in her mouth.

I made a promise.
One he wouldn’t forget, even if the woman was trying to make him go blind from pleasure.

He pulled back from her.

She glanced up, her eyes molten. “
Jamie!”

He liked her demanding. He lifted her into his arms.  He’d like her even more when she gave him a chance to taste her.

She kissed him while he carried her out of the bathroom.  She licked his lips. Then she moved to his neck.  When her fangs slid into his skin, his arms tightened around her.

Can’t. Come. Yet.

He had to be inside her before he came, and she—she had to be on her second orgasm by then. 

Promises, promises…
Now he recognized her words for the taunt they were. Iona wanted him to break. He wouldn’t, maybe.

He put her on the bed.  Hated to move away from her mouth—he loved her bite—but there was a part of her that he’d been dying to taste.  Would she taste as good there? 
Yes.
He already knew she would.

His hands trailed over her body.  Over the soft swell of her stomach. He pressed a kiss there.  Then, down, sliding into the silken heat of her sex.

Her legs parted for him. Not far enough. He moved between those sexy legs and opened her even wider.

So fucking perfect.

Jamie put his mouth on her.  Tasted her secrets and drove his tongue into her sex. She bucked beneath him, and he grabbed her hips, keeping her just where he needed her to be.

Right beneath his mouth.

Her hands slid over his shoulders. “Jamie?”

He licked her.

And felt her come.
One…the start.

He kept tasting and licking and her moans filled his ears even as the beast roared inside him. Her pleasure was sweet on his tongue, but it wasn’t enough. He needed so much more.

When had she become so important to him? When had she become…

Everything.

He’d been so desperate to get to LA. To get to her. If she’d been killed…

Jamie’s hands tore away from her hips just as his claws burst from his fingertips.  The claws sliced into the sheets, the mattress.

He heard her gasp. and he tried to yank back the beast. “Won’t…hurt…”

His head lifted. He met her stare. Saw his whole world reflected back in that gold. 

Claim.
An instinct bred into the wolf. When you saw what you wanted, you took it. 

An alpha’s right.  He’d never wanted another this way.

Take.

He pushed his cock into her body. Drove deep and hard and the pure fucking bliss of her had his back teeth grinding together. 

Then the animal inside took over. Lust was a frenzy, need a desperation within him. He plunged into her, thrusting again and again, but he couldn’t seem to get deep enough, couldn’t feel her close enough. 

He pulled away from her. Turned Iona so that she was on her stomach.  Would she—

She rose to her knees.  “Ready for more?” Iona asked him, tossing that shining mane over her shoulder.

He was beyond speech right then. His mouth closed around the curve of her shoulder. A kiss at first, but then, because this was the spot that would mark a claiming…

He bit her, even as he thrust into her sex.  The pleasure hit them both, sweeping through them, between them, consuming in a white-hot explosion that left him hollowed out, and yet, for the first time in his whole life also feeling…

Whole.

As if he’d found something that had always been missing.

Her.

Jamie pressed a kiss to the faint wound he’d left on Iona’s shoulder. The mark of a werewolf claiming.  There would be no going back from this, and he wondered just what Iona would do now.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t try to kill him. 

Her arms curled around him. “I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered but her words were husky, and he knew that sleep pulled desperately at her.

It pulled at him, too. “I’ll stay with you.”

Her head tilted back. She stared up at him with eyes so deep and mysterious. “I’m afraid.”

He knew the admission had been hard. For her,
hard
was probably one serious understatement.

His arms tightened around her.  “It’s okay.  I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The last time, she’d slept for fifteen years.  

He inhaled her scent. Realized that she already felt like she was a part of him. “I’ll keep you safe.”

But Iona gave a sad shake of her head. “It’s not the sleep I fear.” Her hand slid over his chest. “It’s the dreams. What I’ll…see.”

Because of the blood she’d taken from him.  Jamie carefully held his expression, hoping to show only concern for her and not the fear and anger that were suddenly clawing inside of him. Just yesterday, he’d planned to keep her from sleeping. Planned to stop her from using their blood link so she wouldn’t see his secrets in her dreams.

But now I want her to know me.
Pity his memories weren’t the stuff of white knights.  Hell, Iona had probably met real freaking knights in her life.

And she’d battled monsters. 
Like me.

“I don’t want to find out…you’re as much of a monster as Latham…” Her voice whispered away as her lashes began to sag. Her slurred words were a painful echo of his own thoughts.

His eyes squeezed shut. Jamie leaned over to press a kiss to her the tumble of her hair. “I’m sorry.” Because he knew exactly what Iona would see in her dreams.

And he knew that she’d want him dead.

But she deserved to know. He couldn’t keep secrets from her anymore.

Even if the truth she learned made her go for his throat.   

The bodies were broken. Twisted.

Jagged wounds—claw marks—had ripped into the woman’s neck. Her blond hair was matted with her blood.

A man’s body rested beside her, his hands still reaching for her even in death.  The heavy scent of silver burned in the air.

“Why?” The cry was torn from her…only when she glanced down, Iona wasn’t staring at her own body.

No, when she glanced down, she saw Jamie’s strong hands. Jamie’s body.

Because this was Jamie’s memory.

Part of her wanted to wake up, but once the blood memories came, there was no stopping them. This was the way the memories always came for her. She relived the memories, the moments, until the blood pushed her free. So she watched, through Jamie’s eyes, as he fell before the people that she knew were his parents. Those memories were there, too, inside of her and—

“You’re next.” Latham’s voice.

He was standing over the bodies.  His lips were twisted with hate.

“Why?” Jamie demanded again, the cry like a wounded animal. And—he was.   

“Because I’m taking over the pack.  He was in my way.” Latham glared at the dead man’s body and then pointed at Jamie. “You’re in my way, too, brother.”

Brother?

A knife seemed to slide into her heart, but the heart—it wasn’t hers. It was Jamie’s. And Latham had just shoved a silver blade into Jamie’s chest. Then Latham…walked away.

But Jamie didn’t die.  Someone else rushed to his side. A wolf she recognized. Sean. Sean took out the blade even as it scorched and blistered his fingertips.  But Jamie was still near death. Far too close. Death’s cold hands reached out as the world seemed to go dark…