BloodSworn (23 page)

He glanced up at her with such a wicked expression that she
knew what his prey felt like right before he pounced.

With his gaze connected to hers, he leaned over and kissed
her wrist. At the first touch of his lips, she would’ve fallen if he hadn’t
caught her.

She quickly jerked her arm away from his mouth for fear she’d
orgasm right there.

“What was that?” Her voice shook, but she considered it a
miracle that she was able to form any words at all.

Merrick leaned backward, taking her with him until she was
sprawled across his chest, his body protecting her from the rags pretending to
be rugs on the floor.

“That’s to ensure your willingness to mate with me. Shifter
woman have been known to be a little difficult to settle down. The bite of a
male ensures their willingness.”

Trina cradled her arm against her chest. “So any man—”

He sat up abruptly, a snarl on his lips. “Never. You offered
yourself freely to me. With so few females, it’s considered a great honor to be
selected. Only my touch will trigger that reaction. Once the bite heals, the
connection fades. It usually lasts a breeding cycle.” His arms wrapped around
her, pulling her snug against his jeans, her legs on either side of his. “Only
me.”

Denim rubbed her bare thighs. Feeling wicked at being naked
when he remained at least partially dressed, she shivered. “You accepted the
blood I offered so you could bite me, didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly. “You were mine when you first stepped on
my property. You offered me a rare privilege few are ever granted. I couldn’t
tell you and risk that you’d change your mind.”

The romance of the idea charmed her. Oh, she knew he was
leaving some things out, but she just didn’t give a damn anymore. “Less talking
and more doing.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all
the pent-up passion and anger that had been building in her for so long. His
hands swept up her back and the gentleness of it made her gasp. The size of him
compared to her made her feel delicate and treasured. He leaned her back, and
she reluctantly broke the kiss.

Her spine was cradled against his bent legs. His lips
trailed down her jaw then her throat. One hand skimmed over her arm, his
fingers trailing down the sensitive curve of her elbow and lower, lightly
tracing his mark.

She arched into him, unable to prevent her body from seeking
more.

“No fair.” She panted the words.

She felt more than saw his smile. “Did you want me to stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” She moaned when he repeated the gesture.
“Merrick.”

A growl rumbled up his throat at the sound of his name on
her lips, and he longed to hear her say it again when she came apart in his arms.
He took her nipple in his mouth the same time he caressed the mark.

She bucked, rubbing against him in a way that made him curse
his jeans. He loved that she reacted so readily to his touch, that he could make
her want at least a little of what she made him feel.

“Lie back.”

He didn’t want to. He almost refused. He wanted to see her
come apart in his arms by his touch alone, then start all over again. She was
right on the edge. One little push and she would go over.

Her expression dared him to refuse, and he reluctantly
released her and obeyed. She straightened over him with a look of such
wonderment, his heart hiccupped and his chest swelled with pride that he could
make her react so wantonly to him.

He twitched, wanting to feel those oh so capable fingers
work his body in a more delicious way than the last time she’d touched him. Her
hands hovered over his body, and his skin pebbled, eager to feel them on him.
He’d swear she’d put a spell on him, but damned if he cared.

During their sessions, she’d worked the muscles like an
instrument. He’d stayed on his stomach the whole time, harder than he had ever
been in his life, unable to move for fear he’d frighten her away.

Now those wicked hands skimmed over his chest, and there was
no way in hell she could miss his body’s reaction nestled between her sweet
thighs. A light blush on her face said she knew and loved what she did to him,
the little hellcat.

Her nails scraped down his chest, coming to stop at the
waistband of his jeans.

“My turn.”

She scooted down his body, taking the opportunity to brush
every inch of her against him. The feel of her soft breasts dragging lightly
over his stomach had his hips arching upward. His claws tore through the rug and
then scraped concrete as he battled his desires and allowed her to do what she
would.

She kissed the sensitive flesh above his pants then her
teeth undid the first button. The warm breath of her mouth poured over the tip
of him. When she went down to the next button, her tongue swept over him, and
his body leapt at her touch.

Christ, he had three more buttons to go. Damned if he was
going to make it. “Trina.”

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

Merrick’s teeth clicked together.

She took pity on him, and the last three buttons opened without
the extra torture of her mouth. Instead, she sat up and gave him a perfect view
of her body as she struggled with his pants. Three more blades winged across
the room before his patience evaporated.

He reached for her, dragging her up his body. “Merrick, I
wasn’t done.”

“Neither am I.” He slid into her with one easy move then
held still at the snug fit of her body. She gasped and fell silent.

He filled his hands with her wonderful mahogany hair. The
firelight made the browns darker, the reds brighter. She was so soft that he couldn’t
stop touching her. He kissed her the way he’d wanted since he’d first seen her
moving across his lawn.

Remaining still was delicious torture when he wanted to
pound into her and finish claiming her. When her hips arched, he clamped his
hands on them. If she did that again, he would be a goner.

“None of that now.”

The little growl she released had his cock jumping, and she
gasped. When her body tightened around him, he had no choice. “Fuck.”

He laid back, arching up into her, forcing his hands to release
her and let her set the rhythm for fear he’d take what his body demanded
without care.

But she didn’t move. She leaned over him, deepening the
angle until he shook and his dick flexed in her. When he looked up at her, it
was to see her arms on either side of his head, her breast so tantalizingly close
he could almost taste her. She waited until he lifted his eyes to hers.

“Are you with me?”

“I don’t want to hurt—” He broke off with a groan when she
shifted subtly, sending him deeper. He shook with the demand to move. He’d
never slept with a human before, and her fragileness scared the shit out of
him.

“Are you with me?”

“Forever.”

Whatever dam that’d held him back broke, and Trina breathed
a sigh of relief. She’d been afraid to move for fear of coming apart even
before the game had stared. He was wider than the other men she’d been with,
but she’d never been so turned on before.

When he grabbed her hips, jerking her against him, she
nearly screamed. Then she didn’t have air to do anything else as he silently
and oh so wickedly drove her to the edge of reason.

She thought that being on top would give her some control,
but all she could do was move against him and relish every demand as he forced
her higher.

Magic whirled around her, soaking into her skin until every
inch of her body grew over-sensitized. Everywhere he touched, even the
slightest brush of his fingers against hers, set off shockwaves.

She rose on the crest, her body on the precipice when he
jackknifed into sitting position. Merrick’s fangs flashed before they sank into
the fleshy part where her shoulder met her neck.

There was no razor edge of pleasure/pain, it was pure,
unadulterated pleasure as she fell into the abyss. With each draw of her blood,
her body tightened around him, her pleasure so intense she couldn’t even scream
if she wanted. When she didn’t think she could take anymore, he threw back his
head and roared.

Magic exploded around them in a brilliant dance, sparkling
and flashing as it landed on them. Each tiny mote burned like a lover’s kiss,
extending her pleasure nearly past bearing. When he fell back, she collapsed
against him, unable to support her own weight.

He shifted, and she could do nothing more than grumble. When
he licked the wound on her neck, she gasped, her hips jerking against his.

He pushed up into her one last time before he gathered her
in his arms in a hug that squeezed the air out of her lungs.

She tapped his arm. “Need. To. Breathe.”

“Sorry.” As his hold loosened, her lungs automatically
sucked in air. His musk had a little hum catching in the back of her throat,
and she settled in against him.

“S’no probl’m.”

She must have dozed when he nudged her awake. Worn out after
the last few days, she barely opened her eyes when he pressed her pants into
her hands. She wiggled into them when the silence got to her.

She cracked open a bleary eye to see him staring at her with
a peculiar half-smile that tightened her chest. He picked up her shirt and
gently pushed it over her head then gathered her close again.

“Your shirt.”

“Not cold. I’d rather feel you against me.”

She draped her arm over his chest and hooked her leg over
his hip, unable to not touch him. It seemed that was all he needed for his breathing
to even out and succumb to sleep.

With her eyes closed, his skin almost felt like soft fur.
She swore she heard him purring under her ear as sleep beckoned.

But there was a slight noise, a scuffling sound that jerked
her mind out of the sensual haze surrounding her and plunged her right into
danger. She cracked open her eyes and saw the shimmer of one of Merrick’s blades
within reach. Even as she lunged for it, she knew it was much too late.

 
Chapter Twenty-six

“
A
nimal
whore.”

A sharp lash of magic cut into her wrist, and the blade
dropped uselessly to the ground with a clatter.

Merrick tensed against her, and she grabbed his arm to
prevent him from launching himself at the crowd around them. As if he
understood that he wouldn’t be able to take them in their numbers, he sat up and
pushed her behind him.

Stupid man.

They might hurt her, but they needed her.

They would kill him, and she couldn’t survive the loss of
him after she’d just found him.

Glancing around the room, she got the first good look at the
people standing over them. They were all in their late thirties or older, all
trained witches. There were about fifteen of them and each powerful in their
own right, if the speck-like glitter dusting them was any indication.

She peered beyond them, but little more was visible in the
gloom. When she didn’t see Weston’s body, the spurt of panic building in her
gut eased. They hadn’t killed him. Weston wasn’t the type to go out without a
bang. She just needed to be prepared to move when he gave the signal.

As unobtrusively as possible, she peeled away the coating
she’d placed over her body to prevent magic from overwhelming her. The instant her
skin became exposed, the tiny particles gravitated toward her.

“Old crone.” Merrick growled the words.

“You should’ve handed her over when we asked.” A sneer
contorted the face of the woman in front.

A shiver of recognition trickled through Trina. Memories of
childhood terror returned, and she narrowed her eyes. “Aunt Kaye. Although I
suppose
old crone
would suit you better. Still dabbling in black magic I
see.”

This was the woman who’d banished her from the coven like
she’d been a wart to be burned away from her perfect little world. “I’ve always
wondered how the vampires knew that my parents would be out of town the night
they died.” She gave a bitter smile and rose to her feet. She refused to cower
before this woman. “You were always jealous of your sister, weren’t you? Of her
power and her husband.”

“Your mother was a spoiled brat who cared nothing for our
ways.”

“No, she cared for protecting people, not the antiquated
rules that demanded we bind people or burn them out as you steal their power.”

“She had no right to try to change things that had worked
for thousands of years.”

“Only they weren’t working anymore, were they? People were
protesting. They only way to stop it was to show how dangerous it was to buck
the rules you deemed worthy. That’s why they had to die.”

That sinister smile came back. All that was missing was the
maniacal cackle. “It worked until now. All that changes with you. With your magic
under our control, the witches will be the power to be feared. Honor will be
ours again.”

Trina crossed her arms. “Do you really think I would work
with you after what you did?”

Kaye’s smile widened. “That’s the beauty of your power. You
don’t have to do anything. Your blood will do it for you.”

Trina tightened her lips and saw the men behind her aunt
tense. “That’s the real reason why you sent me away, wasn’t it? You suspected
what I was despite the way the other witches tried to protect me. You bound me
so I wouldn’t be able to learn to defend myself.”

“At least you aren’t as naïve as your mother.”

When Trina would’ve taken a step forward, Merrick’s large
hand encircled her ankle. “Don’t let her separate us,” he growled.

Trina didn’t understand why Merrick remained so docile. Then
it struck her…he was trying to look defenseless. She almost snorted that
anyone would mistake him as harmless.

But his touch was different, his palms almost scratchy
against her skin.

He wasn’t trying to look defenseless.

They’d cast a fucking spell on him to weaken his beast.

Only there was a simple flaw in their plan.

Merrick had accepted her blood. He was hers.

She wound her fingers into his hair, and the earth magic disintegrated
at her touch. Merrick sucked in a deep breath and slowly straightened at her
side, brushing his hand against her cheek.

Energy crackled in the air as the witch’s magic built.
Merrick must have sensed it as well for he bent, putting his shoulder into her
stomach and launching them up into the air. They had to have jumped ten feet
over the makeshift partition separating the room from the rest of the
warehouse.

The landing jammed his shoulder into her stomach. She
expected him to set her down, but he took off running. The witches rounded the
corner, the power they gathered growing as they chanted.

Trina brought her arm up and fisted her hand until the pinch
of metal from her ring bit into her finger. Flesh tore and blood bloomed. Two
witches stood to the side, drawing the power away from her. They were
succeeding, too.

She thrust out her palm, praying she had enough left to be
of use. Wild, uncontrollable magic slammed through the room like a percussion,
knocking everyone on their asses. Merrick stumbled, and she lost her perch. The
floor rushed up to greet her.

Merrick rolled, taking the brunt of their fall, his big body
wrapped around hers. She ended up a few feet away, the wind knocked from her.

The bindings that had once held her magic in check were obviously
gone. Every time she’d used her magic in the past, it had been pulled through
the bindings. It eventually wore down the bindings, but it had also made her
stronger than she would’ve been normally.

She struggled to her hands and feet when the door to the back
exit banged open.

They were surrounded.

Merrick snarled, beefing up, facing off against the ten men
and women who ran through the door.

Trina thought she recognized the third figure who entered.
“Drew?”

The kid gave a cocky salute. “I brought backup. When they
found out that you were going after your sister, they volunteered to help.”

Loyal enough to Eden that they would trade Trina for her?
She stood and shuffled closer toward Merrick, edging toward the fringes of the
two groups.

“You were not invited, Dorian. Shouldn’t you be more worried
about retrieving your misplaced charge than bothering us?” Kaye rubbed her
fingers together, and Trina felt the pull of magic, saw the sparks grow
brighter as they spun toward the old crone.

“Get down!” Her warning came too late. Whatever spell Kaye
had been holding shot across the room. People dove out of the way. Some cursed,
but she knew that not all escaped unscathed when the astringent smell of
something charred filled her nose.

She lifted her head to see people on both sides scramble for
cover. One woman lay on the floor, staring unseeing with half of her face
burned away.

“Come on.” Merrick grabbed her arm, and pulled her
underneath the metal staircase where Dorian, Drew and another woman waited.

“Hey, scamp, I’m glad to see you made it.” Dorian smiled at
her, and half-forgotten memories rose of her following him around like a typical
young girl with a crush, making a nuisance of herself.

Then she remembered something else, something she only just
realized looking at the grown-up version of him. “Your father was there the
night my parents were killed. He stayed with me, protecting me while I
struggled to survive.”

A spell hit the walkway above them. The metal shivered, the
quaking gaining strength as it worked down the length of steel. Metal groaned.
Acting on instinct, Trina threw herself at Drew.

Something struck her shoulder with enough force to knock
them to the floor. Trina pushed up on shaky arms, surprised they still worked
the way they shook so badly. They both glanced at the spot where he had been
crouched to find the slab of cement had vanished under a tangle of what used to
be the walkway.

“Holy shit.” Drew stared wide-eyed, his excitement of the
fight dimming at the near miss.

“How badly are you hurt?” Merrick was at her side in an
instant, probing her shoulder, and she flinched away from him.

Trina gave a few experimental twists of her arm and found
she was unable to lift it above her chest without breath-stealing pain. “Bruised
but functional.”

“Get them out of her, Dorian. We’ll hold them off.” The battle-hardened
woman with them shot up and flung a spell that had the floor buckling like they
were at sea. Trina would’ve landed face first if Merrick hadn’t caught her.

Dorian looked prepared to argue when a high-pitched scream
echoed in the room. Trina thought she saw an arm fly past. “Uh, I think someone
else joined the party.”

Merrick peered around the base of the stairs than swore
viciously. “Vampire.”

Trina grew lightheaded, her first thought being that the King
had found her. Logic took a bit to catch up. The King would never have come alone.
If he were here, she would already be in chains.

“Go.” The woman stepped out from behind the stairs and ran
into the room, tossing spells faster than Trina had ever seen anyone cast.

Both sides lobbed their magic, and the warehouse lit up like
a fireworks explosion gone wrong. Each blast grew brighter until all she saw were
black spots dancing in her vision.

She turned to shield her eyes and found Merrick watching her,
so attuned to her that he sensed something wrong.

“Is it your shoulder?”

“The magic is messing with my eyesight.” She knew it would
happen eventually, that magic would turn on her. The vulnerability was nearly
crippling, but she refused to be defenseless. She withdrew her blade and looked
at it blankly. Wow, she was the idiot who bought a knife to a gunfight.

Dorian inched closer, taking in the situation at a glance.
“She’s been exposed to too much magic. Her senses are overloaded. It happens to
new recruits all the time when they can’t control the burn of magic. Head
toward the door, and I’ll buy you some cover.”

Without giving them time to protest, he stood and threw
something that lit up the warehouse like a bomb had gone off.

The vampire roared.

Magic would hurt and slow a vampire down, but it wouldn’t
kill outright.

Without giving her a chance to protest, Merrick grabbed her
arm and hauled her into the tiny alley behind the warehouse. Fetid water
splashed her pants, soaking her shoes.

“Down!”

Weston dropped twenty feet from the building, landing in a
crouch, lifting his weapon even as he rose. She came face to face with the
barrel of his gun.

Time slowed.

His finger tightened on the trigger.

Surprise held her immobile.

Merrick shoved her hard toward the building, covering his
body with hers. Her palms scraped brick, and the porous rock abraded her cheek.

A sharp retort belched repeatedly in the alley. Whatever
flash of doubt that’d struck vanished, and she felt like an idiot. Her heart
slammed against her ribcage as she tried to turn to fight whomever Weston had
pinned down.

She would not die trapped in an alley.

A roar of magic like a train whipped past them. She expected
to feel the impact of it slam into them, the flash of pain and the warm gush of
blood.

She’d been so sure they wouldn’t survive that it took her
ears a few seconds to register the silence. When Merrick allowed her away from
the wall, she grabbed his arm, surprised not to find him riddled with holes.

There was not a scratch on him.

Dorian and Drew stood at the opposite side of the alley,
equally unscathed. When she glanced at Weston, the location where she’d last
seen him stood shockingly empty.

Disbelieve froze her in her tracks. He couldn’t be gone. Then
she spotted his form slumped against the ground.

Her medical training kicked in. She wiggled out of Merrick’s
hold, wiggling past his body and knelt at Weston’s side, fingers shaking as she
searched for his pulse.