Sin Undone

  “Bastard.” Sin drew her right hand out of her pocket, preparing to fire up her gift and fry the fucker. “You wouldn’t—”

  “Oh, I would. I’ll tell her pack what she’s done, about Conall’s part in it, and I’ll take you there to watch. He might even be put to death with them.”

  “Unless I work for you.”

  “Exactly. And don’t even think about harming me. My second-in-command is only one of several people I’ve told, and if anything happens to me, she’ll make sure Sable’s secret is made public.” He drew a delicate choke chain from his jacket pocket. A fucking dog collar. “Once you put it on, it would be in your best interests to not allow me to be hurt or killed, because what happens to me, happens to you.”

  Enraged, Sin instinctively engaged her power. Heat spread from her shoulder to her fingers, following the track of her glyphs. If she looked, she knew they’d be glowing and writhing as though alive. “You son of a bitch.”

  “That,” he said icily, “would only be accurate if I were pricolici.”

  She stared at the collar dangling from his fingertips, her heart rate spiking. How could this be happening? After a hundred years of slavery, of belonging to so many different masters, she’d finally found freedom, and now she was faced with slavery once again. Worse, she’d freaked on Con over a bonding issue, something that might have been constricting, but that would have been far preferable to what Raynor was trying to force upon her.

  “Well?” he asked. “Will you serve me, or will you let Sable and her son, and perhaps even Con, die?”

  Her mind screamed and her body trembled. She had no choice. Not really. Maybe if she agreed, it would buy some time for Con to get his family to safety.

  “Yes,” she ground out. “I’ll do it.” He tossed the collar to her, and her fingers shook as she fastened it around her throat. A cloying, strangling sensation washed over her, a feeling of being caged and smothered, and she doubled over and lost the contents of her stomach.

  “There, there,” Ray said, as he stroked her back. “You just saved lives. That’s nothing to feel sick over.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” she swore. “Someday, I’m going to rip your throat out with my bare hands.”

  Ray shrugged. “Until that day, you’re mine. And I plan to use you until you drop.”

  Use her. Oh, God, if he touched her like that… she shrank away from him, unable to bear his hands on her for one more second. She didn’t know how she’d manage to have anyone’s hands on her now. Not after Con.

  His glare was full of righteous indignation. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t touch you with my dick if it were on fire and you were wet for me. I don’t screw demons. But don’t push me, Sin, because I have friends who do.”

  Twenty-four

  Sharla LastNameDidn’tMatter rubbed her naked body against Con’s, exposing her slender neck. “Take me, Conall.”

  He needed to. Badly. His body wasn’t responding to her sexual invitation, but he could force himself to at least take blood from her. The lack of feeding was making him weak, but so far, his stomach had rebelled against everything he’d put in it, from food to the few swallows of blood he’d taken from a human male vagrant last night after he’d kicked Sin out.

  The fact that he’d expelled her to save her life didn’t make him feel any better about it.

  Sharla’s hands slid up his bare chest and then down, over his tense abs to the waistband of his jeans. She was practiced… as a swan, a human who willingly submitted to the blood and sexual needs of vampires in exchange for the high they got, she knew what was expected of her. But Con didn’t want anything she was so boldly offering.

  He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get himself inside Revenant, an underground Goth club, not with the dark circles under his eyes and the sunken hollows in his cheeks, classic signs of vampire starvation that usually meant no admittance. Clubs couldn’t afford to have their customers ripped apart by out-of-control feeders. But he supposed the fact that he was a regular had given him a free pass, and it hadn’t taken long for the swans to find him. He’d seen other vampires feed from Sharla, knew she could handle rough.

  His fangs extended, and he wondered if she could also handle dangerous.

  Tilting her head, Sharla stood on her toes so her throat was only inches from his lips. Her blood thudded through her veins, filling his ears with the sweet music. He only wished Sin was the one playing it.

  “I’m ready.” Her voice was husky, needy, and full of futile desperation, and he wondered if he’d taste drugs in her blood.

  Con swallowed dryly, which seemed so odd with the way his mouth was watering. He needed this, but it felt so wrong, as if he were being unfaithful to Sin.

  In a way, he supposed, he was.

  Sharla’s fingers tightened on his hips, urging him on.

  The door flew open. Crashed into the wall behind it hard enough for plaster to fall to the carpet. Con whirled, instinctively tucking the human behind him. His heart pounded, his breath rasped in his throat, and when he looked into the hard, frosty eyes of the male in front of him, he knew he was dead.

  Shade’s gaze shifted to Sharla. “Get out.”

  “Go fuck yourself, asshole,” she spat, stepping out from behind Con, but staying close. She was mouthy, but not stupid.

  Con gripped her shoulder and nodded. “Go.”

  Glaring at Shade, she gathered up her clothes and shoved by him, not bothering to dress. Shade shut the door, and Con braced himself for a fight. In his weakened state, Con couldn’t put up much of a battle, and Shade would kick his ass. Thing was, he couldn’t dredge up much give-a-shit.

  “I’m surprised you’re alone,” Con said. “Figured all of you would want a piece of killing me.”

  “For what? Trying to bond with Sin against her will, or for hurting her?”

  “Both.”

  “As tempting as it is, I’m not here to kill you. She begged us not to, and we owe you for saving her life.” Shade dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out a bag of blood, which he tossed on the bed.

  Con drew a harsh breath. “Is that…”

  “Sin’s.”

  Surprise rocked Con back a step. His entire body trembled, and it took everything he had to not pounce on it. But he definitely couldn’t yank his gaze away from it. “I can’t. I’m trying to detox.”

  “You’re a mess. Drink it. Come back to the hospital with me, and we can detox you there. You’ll have a better chance at success, and it’ll be faster and a hell of a lot less painful. We’ve gotten a lot of experience with Wraith.”

  “I’ll deal. Can’t go to the hospital.” Not with Sin around. It would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. “And I’m not touching that.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. Drink the fucking blood.”

  “No.”

  Shade came at him, and Con met him, head-on. They were nose to nose, chest to chest, and Con could feel the aggression rolling off Shade. The demon wanted to shed blood as bad as Con wanted to drink it.

  “Are you completely suicidal?” he growled. “You’re suffering, and you don’t need to. Sin wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

  Sin would probably love to see him like this.

  “Step off, Shade.” Con’s adrenaline rose in an angry tide, his hunger cresting, his fury at himself peaking with it, creating a caustic temper that had him ready to knock the demon’s teeth in.

  Shade shoved at Con’s chest. “You stupid son of a bitch. You know detoxing by yourself is risky as shit, and the only fucking way we’re letting you live is if we know you aren’t a danger to Sin, so drink!”

  Con swung, and it was on. Fists flew, and furniture broke as they threw each other around the room. Con’s waning strength became a factor, and it wasn’t long before Shade was straddling him, forearm over his throat as he jammed the bag into Con’s mouth. Con shook his head, his teeth firmly clamped shut, but Sin’s heady scent was all over the unit, and his fangs remained elon
gated no matter how hard he willed them to retract.

  Shade was ruthless in his determination, and he kept pressure on the bag, scraping it back and forth across Con’s mouth. Finally, the plastic snagged on the tip of one canine, and a drop of blood dripped onto his tongue. Con’s entire body jerked as if an electric current had shot through him.

  Game over. Delirious with need, he gripped Shade’s wrist and held his hand steady as he bit deeply into the bag. Sin’s essence flowed down his throat, lighting him up from the inside. He moaned at the taste, at the relief from the painful hunger that had ridden him hard. He wished Sin were here. Wished he could sink into her body as he ravaged her throat. He’d take her hard and fast, listening to her screams of pleasure… her screams… her blood.

  Con… stop. The voice barely penetrated his feeding frenzy. Sin was beneath him, her struggles ineffective against his new strength and need.

  Yo, get off me. No, not happening. He’d have to bite again, because the vein he was at had run out… Maybe he’d drained her. Terror welled up through the bloodlust, piercing the addiction.

  “Con! Fuck!” Male voice. Deep.

  Con blinked, coming out of his haze to see Shade beneath him. Con’s erection was pushed hard against Shade’s thigh, and yeah… not cool.

  Panting and shaking like a leaf, Con scrambled off him. “Ah… I don’t… that was, ah… not for you.”

  “I fucking hope not,” Shade muttered. He rolled easily to his feet, seemingly unperturbed, but then, he was a sex demon, and Con doubted much fazed him when it came to that. And seeing how Con was a thousand years old and had done pretty much everything, it shouldn’t faze him, either. Except that Shade was the brother of the female he craved, and… yuck.

  Con remained on the floor, sitting on his haunches. He scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly exhausted. “Gods, I hate this.”

  “Come to the hospital.” The black leather of Shade’s jacket creaked as he folded his arms across his chest, and Con knew this argument was a losing one. But his stubborn self couldn’t cave in that easily.

  “I can’t.”

  “You let Sin warm up to you, and then you smashed her under your boot.” Shade’s already deep voice dropped an octave. “The least you can do is get yourself clean. And, buddy, I told you, kick the habit so you aren’t a danger to Sin, or we’ll put you in the ground.”

  Fair enough, and no less than what Con deserved. “The detox… it’ll be ugly. You’ll have to keep me caged or bound.”

  “I’m pretty much an expert at that.” There was a glint of wry amusement in Shade’s eyes as he gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”

  Sin needed sex.

  The need wasn’t so bad yet that it hurt, but it wouldn’t be long before the cramps, sweats, and nausea hit her. She’d put it off because the idea of being with anyone other than Con made her sick.

  It made her cry, too, but she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. Not even Lore.

  She’d spent the night at his place, the North Carolina shack he rarely used anymore now that he lived in Italy with Idess. Thankfully, he’d stayed away, even though he probably knew she’d been there. Still, he and the other three brothers had tried to call her about every fifteen minutes, and she finally had to shut off her phone just to keep her sanity. This morning when she’d checked her messages, she’d found forty.

  She’d deleted them all without listening. But the text message she’d just gotten from Shade as she sat at the bar in a demon club made her heart stall. Apparently, Con was at UG, and it would be best if she stayed away.

  No problem. Being felt up by the handsome, crimson-skinned Sora demon behind her was what she wanted to be doing anyway.

  Her heart knocked on her rib cage, calling her a liar.

  The Sora’s strong hands gripped her hips, his broad chest blanketed her back, and the bulge in his jeans was an insistent prod on her ass. Not long ago, she’d have responded, would have had him in the bathroom or on the dance floor, making use of his multitalented tail by now. Instead, all she could think about was Con.

  “Bastard,” she snarled into her beer mug.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say to the male who is going to make you scream his name,” he said, as he nuzzled her neck. His teeth clinked against the chain around her throat, and she swore she felt it tighten.

  She drained her beer as his hand slipped under her leather skirt, his fingertips brushing the silky material of her underwear.

  Pain streaked through her, radiating from the male’s hand all the way to her organs, which suddenly felt like they were shifting, rearranging, tying themselves into knots. Gasping, she leaped off the bar stool and dashed outside, where the unique, moldy smell of Bangkok made her stomach rebel on the cobblestone walk. What the hell was going on with her?

  Taking great gulps of polluted air, she sagged against the side of the building, which housed an underground prostitution and drug parlor in the front, and the demon dance club in the back. The sounds of the raunchy nightlife drowned out the throbbing pulse in Sin’s ears; it was four a.m., and this section of the city was still alive. Every vice, every fetish, no matter how illegal and disgusting, could be satisfied in Bangkok, and the universal truth remained in effect here: wickedness preferred the cover of darkness.

  As the nausea waned, Sin’s needs came back front and center, an aching, shivery presence. She’d never hated what she was more than right now. Before Con, her body had been a tool, something as impersonal as a hammer. Now it felt like hers, like she finally owned it, controlled it, and the idea of sharing it with anyone but Con…

  Fuck. Get over yourself. She brushed by the bouncer at the door and strode directly into the crowd of people writhing on the dance floor. Seizure-inducing lights flashed to the techno-pop beat of the music as Sin eased against a large male Bedim. They were a sensual, dark-skinned race whose young males were forced out of their community for ten years to experience life outside. Upon returning, they would be given a harem of females, but until then, they had to find pleasure elsewhere.

  He turned into her, his masculine smile something that should have started her engines. Her body was full of need, but as he smoothed his palms down her bare arms, only cold shivers followed.

  “Touch me,” she growled, and he grinned, moved his hands to her breasts.

  Instantly, her stomach rebelled again, and she tore away from him, panting, praying she wouldn’t lose the rest of her liquid dinner all over the dance floor. Quickly, she grabbed another male and swung him around. She palmed his groin… and lost it. Totally blew chunks on his spandex zebra tights. Which, really, needed to be put out of their misery, because hello, the ’80s were long gone.

  Humiliation rocked her, and she stumbled out of the bar. Her lust hadn’t eased, and neither had the want for Con. Had he bonded with her after all?

  A horrible thought spun up. When male Sems bonded to a female, they couldn’t so much as get it up for any female other than their mate. What if female Sems went through something similar? Something that would make her unable to ever sleep with another male?

  Head swimming with the horrific possibilities, she hopped a Harrowgate to UG.

  When she stepped out, she saw Tayla speaking with Serena, who was holding a squirming Stewie in her arms. Knowing at least one of her brothers would be nearby, Sin looked around and, sure enough, Eidolon, dressed in his usual green scrubs, emerged from one of the exam rooms.

  Sin marched up to him. “Where is Con?”

  Eidolon handed a chart to a nurse. “He’s detoxing. You can’t see him.”

  “I don’t care if he’s dancing ballet in the cafeteria. I need him.”

  “Sin, you can’t. You’ll only set him back—”

  “I don’t care!” She was practically shouting now, and her sisters-in-law were moving toward them. Dammit. She didn’t need more witnesses to her weakness and embarrassment. She’d find Con on her own. She shoved past her brother but he grabbed her arm and swun
g her back around.

  “I won’t let you near him.”

  “Then you can watch me die.” She broke away from him, unable to bear his touch, not because it made her ill, but because she couldn’t deal with affection right now.

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember when I said Con tried to bond with me? Well, it looks like he didn’t just try. He did.”

  For a moment, Eidolon stood there, frowning, and then his eyes shot wide. “So you can’t…”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Exactly. Now where is he?”

  Twenty-five

  Con hadn’t expected to be housed in a room decked out like a Hilton hotel suite or anything, but he had figured the Sem boys would at least provide him with heat.

  Not so much.

  Apparently, ice-cold temperatures helped hasten blood addiction detox. How, Con didn’t know, but he half-suspected the boys were torturing him, and it was working. He was freezing his ass off. Well, he froze when he wasn’t sweating out a fever.

  Shivering in the scrubs E had thrown at him, he paced back and forth in the room, where all the furniture except a bed had been removed. He was chained to the floor with a manacle around his ankle that allowed him to move around—but only during the short periods of lucidity, like the one he was experiencing now. Usually, he was a violent, pissed-off animal, and when he felt the starvation begin to ride him again, he’d hit a call button, and one of the brothers, along with several orderlies, would chain him to the bed, sedate him, and jam a feeding tube down his throat.