Pleasure Unbound

  Gem had never had that. She’d seen Teresa from afar, had taken pictures. And once, she’d worked up the guts to speak to her at a bus stop. Gem had been terrified, fifteen years old and dressed like a punk, but Teresa’s voice had been soft and musical, with a hint of southern drawl that went down like sugar, a far cry from the clipped, stern voices of her adoptive parents.

  Yes, she loved her parents, would always be grateful to them for saving her life and then giving her a great one, but deep down, she’d resented the fact that Tayla had been given sole rights to being Teresa’s daughter.

  How fucking petty. Especially considering how Gem had grown up wanting for nothing, but Tayla . . . she’d suffered.

  Once Gem was old enough to venture out on her own, she’d tracked Tayla down, had followed her from school to the rusted-out trailer where she’d lived with three other foster kids. When Gem saw her the next day, she’d been wearing the same clothes. Tayla had bounced around between foster care and the streets so much that Gem couldn’t keep track. It wasn’t until Teresa got clean and regained custody that, for once, Tayla had a stable home. Granted, the apartment she’d shared with Teresa was a roach motel, but they seemed to be happy for two years.

  Until that night.

  News reports had blasted the gory details nonstop, had shown pictures of the crime scene and made a big story of how Teresa had been torn apart by a vicious serial killer, and that her daughter, Tayla, was missing. Tay had eventually been found, but she’d never spoken to the authorities about the murder. Afterward, she’d gone again into foster care, but by the time Gem had located her sister, wanted for the killing of her foster father, Tay was already with The Aegis . . . which was around the time the Soulshredder had come to Gem.

  She’d known instantly that the creature was her father. It had slipped into her bedroom in the middle of the night, its goal beyond comprehension. It had intended to sire young on her, its own flesh and blood.

  Her struggle to keep her inner beast at bay had been lifelong, something that had required discipline and protective tattoos. But that night, for the first time, she’d let her demon side reign, had used every trick in her book to kill the thing that was her father.

  So, yeah, she knew firsthand that “we all do things we’re programmed to do.” Because like it or not, thanks to her sire, she was hardwired to torment and kill.

  Every day was a battle, a tug of war between her two halves. And every morning she wondered if that would be the day her human half finally lost.

  Eidolon paced in the kitchen while Tayla showered and Shade whipped up some dinner. Wraith lounged on the couch, playing video games on the X-Box, Mickey tucked into one armpit. It had taken half an hour and three shots of Cutty Sark to calm Tay down, and then the adrenaline crash had turned her into a noodle. All she’d wanted was a shower, bed, and food, in no particular order.

  In the meantime, he wanted to hunt Gem down and string her up. Gem had been their best shot at convincing Tayla to integrate her demon side. Now that was blown all to Hades.

  “Want a beer?” Shade asked, as he pushed a plate of spaghetti across the kitchen island.

  “Nah.”

  “Suit yourself.” Shade snagged a bottle of Harp from the fridge. “What a night, huh? I can’t freakin’ believe Paige was part of the organ thing. And Gem, the slayer’s sister? Gives me the jeebies, man. Maybe if we could get them to fight again . . .”

  Eidolon smiled. “You sound like Wraith.”

  “Come on. He had a point. You have to give him that much.” Shade popped the cap off the beer. “I mean, twins wrestling on the ground? Hot.”

  Maybe, but Eidolon wasn’t interested in two women. He wanted only the one. Shade went on about twins, ticking his conquests off on his fingers. Eidolon recommended a calculator and swept up the plate of food to take it to Tayla, though he wished he had some oranges. Her citrus craving made sense now; Soulshredders were a tropical species that required the fruit to survive.

  Halfway to the bedroom, his heart skidded to a halt. The sweet, musky scent of Tayla’s arousal drifted from the living room.

  Wraith.

  Eidolon sprinted down the hall, caught the corner with his shoulder, and spilled half the spaghetti onto the floor. Not that he noticed. No, all he could see was his own anger in a filter of red splayed across the scene before him.

  Tayla stood in the living room, robe loosely tied and showing way too much creamy flesh. Wraith, his bloody video game on pause, watched her, his eyes glowing, not with the normal gold of arousal or anger, but with the blue-flecked gold of his hypnotic gift.

  “See what it would be like with me?” he was saying. “Bet E won’t do that to you. It’s not civilized.”

  The bastard was in her head, feeding her images of gods knew what.

  Territorial rage lit Eidolon up like a gas-soaked torch. “Back the fuck off, brother,” Eidolon bit out. “You don’t do humans or Aegi.”

  “She’s not either. Not anymore.” Wraith smiled, his white fangs gleaming hungrily. “Fair. Game.”

  Darkness swallowed him. Eidolon dropped the plate and launched over the couch armrest. He slammed Wraith into the wall with a hand around the throat. Sober, Wraith could kick his butt, but he didn’t give an imp’s ass. “She’s mine.”

  Wraith’s eyes went half-lidded, and if he was bothered by the fact that Eidolon was nearly choking him, it didn’t show. “Look at her, E. She’s primed. She’ll take us both.”

  An image of Wraith brutalizing Tayla with his teeth as he took her tattooed itself into Eidolon’s brain, turning his thoughts to poison. “Don’t touch her,” he snarled. “Don’t you ever touch her, or I will let the vampires—”

  “Hellboy?”

  They both turned to Tayla, who stood there as though in a daze, her fingertips playing lazily along the edge of her robe where it gaped at the sternum. A blast of lust came from her like a shockwave, and Eidolon jerked as though she’d grabbed his cock.

  “That’s never happened before. She should be calling my name,” Wraith muttered. “And what were you saying about the vamps?”

  Ignoring the question, Eidolon released Wraith with a shove and crossed to Tayla. She flew into his arms, climbed him like a tree until she was wrapped around him, rubbing her face on him, writhing against his body.

  She was going to take him right there.

  The thought made him so hot, so deliriously fuzzy-headed, that he nearly forgot Wraith was watching and let it happen. Instead, he hauled ass to the bedroom. By the time he kicked the door shut, his jeans were unbuttoned. By the time they were halfway to the bed, he was sheathed inside her wet, satin heat.

  “Oh, my God, Eidolon . . . oh, my God.” She pelted his face with kisses as she began a punishing grinding motion with her hips. “I went to get my backpack. Saw your brother . . . and suddenly, my mind just kept seeing—”

  “Wraith.” Fuck. He stopped short of the bed, his heart growing cold even as he thrust into her hot depths.

  “No,” she moaned. “You. He was there for a second, but it wasn’t right. I concentrated hard, and it was you.”

  Pressure filled his chest cavity. A sudden, fierce instinct rose in him, a foreign and yet familiar urge. It didn’t matter that her passion had been induced by a mind-seduction. It didn’t matter that she was hardly in a position to know what she wanted from him. All that mattered was that he take her. Bond with her. Make her his mate.

  “Mine,” he growled into the slender column of her throat. “You’re mine.”

  “Yes . . . oh, yes.” Her voice throbbed with the promise of what she was saying. That she was his, that all his years of empty sex with empty females was coming to an end, that he would no longer worry about becoming a mindless beast, that there would be no more loneliness for either of them.

  The surge of emotion triggered a chain reaction inside him. Fire shot from the fingertips of his right arm, up the tribal pattern in his skin. The designs glowed red through the sheen of sw
eat that had broken out over his entire body.

  Spinning, he pinned her to the wall. He pumped into her, lost to the sensation of the intimate slide of slick flesh on slick flesh. Pleasure whipped at him, and still, it wasn’t enough. He needed to possess her, to have her in every way he could.

  The thump of their bodies against the wall reverberated in the room, all the way to his balls. Words came out of his mouth, words he’d never heard and didn’t even know the meaning of, but he no longer operated on a logical level. Something primal and raw demanded he do nothing but follow a natural course.

  Reaching down, he opened his bedside drawer and fumbled for what he was looking for.

  Tayla was whimpering and writhing and clenching him to her so hard that he had to wrench his spine to get the space between them he needed. The air around them pulsed with powerful mating magic, cocooning them in their own world as he drew the scalpel across his chest. He felt no pain and was powerless to stop himself. Dropping the blade, he cupped her head and brought her lips to where his blood welled at the thin seam.

  She hesitated, looking up at him with passion-darkened eyes.

  “Do it,” he whispered. “Taste me. Take me inside you.”

  Holding his gaze, which was erotic as hell, she touched her tongue to a single pearl of blood.

  Oh, sweet hell. Electric whips lashed at him, spreading from her tongue through his entire nervous system. He was short-circuiting with ecstasy, humming with the energy and hunger. A moan dredged up from the depths of his chest, and as she latched on and began a gentle sucking action, he threw back his head and roared.

  His climax hit him with the force of a fire tornado, burning, twisting, turning him upside down and inside out. Tayla joined him, screaming with the force of her release. She bucked against him, her female muscles clasping tight and drawing on his shaft for every last drop of seed.

  For a moment, they shuddered together, panting, and he had to lock his knees to keep from sliding to the floor with her. His muscles quivered, and his insides gelled. Hazy reality filled his mind like smoke, and just as he realized what he’d done, Tayla cried out.

  A violent spasm hit her with such force that they were propelled away from the wall. “Hurts,” she gasped.

  “Lirsha, oh, gods, what have I done?” Fear froze his marrow as he laid her on the bed and sank down beside her, one hand on her hip, the other threaded in her hair. She writhed, alternately clutching her gut and clawing at her skin. “Shade!” Shit. He pulled her robe closed and tightened the sash. “For fuck’s sake, Shade! Get in here!”

  The door crashed open, wood splintering. Shade hadn’t bothered with the door handle. Wraith was right behind him, both taking in the scene in an instant.

  “Is her DNA—” Shade sniffed the air. “Ah, man, you didn’t.”

  Tears streamed down Tayla’s face, dampening the pillow. Her eyes were closed tight against the pain as she huddled in fetal position on the silk comforter.

  “I did.”

  Wraith peeked around Shade. “Did what?”

  “He began the bonding process,” Shade said.

  Wraith let out a low whistle. “I knew you were desperate to get around the s’genesis, but I didn’t think you were that desperate. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  Shade reached for Tayla, jerking back when Eidolon growled before he could catch himself. “I need to get inside her, E.”

  “I know,” he snapped, not wanting anyone, including—or especially—his brothers, to touch the female he wanted as his lifemate.

  Warily, Shade wrapped his hand around her ankle. “Our blood is toxic to humans, you knew that.”

  Yeah, he knew that, but he hadn’t been thinking, had been too deep in the rut, too driven by pure instinct. The argument that she was only half-human was too lame to bring up, so he stroked her cheek and talked to her as she’d done for him the night he’d taken the vampire punishment.

  “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, sending a healing wave into her, figuring it couldn’t hurt, but she still made little sobbing noises, punctuated by high-pitched cries. Her legs scissored back and forth until Shade gripped both ankles and held them still.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on,” he said. “I think it’s a combination of the poison she ingested and her body’s reaction to the chemical changes the bonding put into motion.”

  Damn, he felt so helpless. “Hang on, Tayla.” He wrapped his arm around her slim waist and dragged her against him, as if, if he held on tight enough, she couldn’t die. “Damn you, hang on. Don’t let a demon be the death of you. You’ve fought too hard for too long.”

  Wraith uttered some smartass remark from behind him, but Eidolon wasn’t going to leave Tayla for even the five seconds it would take to ram his brother’s head through the wall. He’d deal with him later. Right now . . .

  “Hellboy?” The sound of her rasping voice was music. “What’s happening?”

  “Shh . . . we’ll get you through this.” He slid a pleading glance at Shade. Sedate her.

  “I can’t. Not until she—” he broke off, nodding at her left hand. “There. It’s happening.”

  Eidolon bunched the sleeve of her robe up to her biceps and nearly swayed with relief at the beautiful miracle taking place. A shadowy replica of his tattoo was etching itself onto her arm, temporarily marking her as his. Gradually, she calmed, the tension draining out of her so she melted against him.

  Where she belonged.

  “Someone get her some water,” he said, not looking away from her. Her strength amazed him, humbled him. She was the fire he’d never had, the spark that had lit his calm, measured existence. He brushed her hair out of her eyes, an excuse to touch her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she croaked, as she pushed up on one elbow. “Is this a DNA thing? Is it happening? Am I dying?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He handed her the glass Shade brought. “You guys go make the preparations for tomorrow night. I’ll call you in the morning.” After his brothers left, he grasped her empty hand. Gently, he raised her arm so she could see the markings.

  Her hand shook as she set the water on the bedside table and pulled the robe open to get a look at the tattoo that ran from fingertip to shoulder. “This is yours. What did you do?”

  “I initiated a bonding sequence. It’s not complete yet,” he finished quickly. Gods, she made him feel like a youth just entering his first transition. “Be mine.” Yeah, that was smooth.

  “Eidolon . . .”

  “You don’t have to decide now. You have five days, and then the markings will fade.” Once they disappeared, the window of opportunity would close, but by then, he might have completed the s’genesis and wouldn’t care, anyway.

  “But you said your species doesn’t mate with humans because the offspring are half-breeds.”

  “We can mate with half-breeds. The young will be full-blooded Seminus demons.”

  Tayla was silent for a long moment. “Is that what the blood was about?” She shot upright and her face, already pale, grew even whiter. “Oh, gag. I drank your blood. Why did I do that? And why do you keep a scalpel in your drawer?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Most guys keep condoms there.”

  He bit back a smile. “I don’t need condoms, since I can’t impregnate anyone yet.” Though he vaguely remembered wanting to plant his seed in Tayla when he’d shapeshifted, so maybe he could now. The idea that she could right now be swelling with his offspring filled him with a sense of wholeness he’d been missing all his life. He could ask Shade to feel for a pregnancy—

  “So what’s up with the scalpel?”

  Heat flooded his face, probably making him as red as she was white. “I—” he felt so stupid admitting this “—I’ve always wanted to be prepared in the event that I found a mate.”

  “Are all Seminus demons so sappy?”

  This time, he couldn’t contain the smile. “I doubt it.”

  “I really, really do not understand dem
ons.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I heard Wraith say something. Something Gem said, too. About being desperate to stop the s’genesis by taking a mate.”

  “We’ll talk about it later. You need your rest.” He pulled the sheets up over her, but she stopped him with a firm grasp on his wrist.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Oh, hell. He swore and looked up at the ceiling. “Taking a lifemate is the only way to stop the worst of the s’genesis changes. We still become fertile and gain the ability to shapeshift, but the insane need to impregnate everything in sight will disappear.”

  “And you’ve been looking? Your brother said ‘desperate.’ ”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So am I like, your last resort?”

  “No, Tayla.” He climbed into bed beside her and tucked her into his body, her back to his chest. “It’s nothing like that.”

  There was a long pause, and then she said in a small voice, “How close are you to no-return?”

  Reaching around her, he tipped her face up to his and sealed his mouth over hers. Her lips were warm, firm, tasted mildly of the salt from her tears. For a moment, she melted, opening to him, shifting toward him.

  But she wouldn’t be deterred, and she murmured against his lips, “How close?”

  “Close,” he admitted, running his palm down her hard belly, spanning the narrow distance between her hipbones where her womb might be quickening. “The next time I shapeshift, I might not come back as myself. I’ll look the same, but I won’t be running the show.”

  She pulled away from him. “And you say that bonding with me now has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you’re on the verge of no-return?”

  As much as he wanted to answer that, he couldn’t. Had he met her a year ago, he didn’t know if she’d have set fever to his blood the way she did now.

  “That’s answer enough,” she said, lurching to the other side of the bed. “And my answer is no. I won’t be anyone’s last resort.”

  Shit. This could’ve gone better.