“Because I don’t work in the dark arts—I don’t go to the Shadow Lands,” she snapped back.
“You made the stake Corbin used to finish off that fucker, Roderick,” Victor pointed out. “That was some pretty black magic from what I hear. And you just offered to go to the Shadow Lands to dispose of the trap.”
“I go to the borders—I don’t cross the Great Barrier,” she protested.
“Fine, I don’t really care. But we’ll be paying in cash—not anything else.” He got out his wallet. “So how much?”
Her eyes flashed. “Five hundred dollars. And that’s cheap for removing a cursed object from your life.”
Victor looked pissed but he nodded anyway.
“Better than blood. But I don’t carry that much on me—is there an ATM around here?”
“Right around the corner at the convenience store,” Gwendolyn said. “I’ll wait.”
“I will too,” I said. “I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d like to use your restroom to um, freshen up.”
She shrugged. “Sure. Down the hall and to the left.”
Victor looked like he was going to say something but then he shook his head.
“I’ll be right back.” He pointed a finger at me. “No blood, all right?”
“Fine,” I said acidly, beginning to get really upset. “Since it’s your blood anyway and I’m just borrowing it, I guess it’s not mine to give.”
“Goddamnit…” He shook his head. “Forget it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
The minute he was out of the house and I heard the door of his truck slam, I turned back to Gwendolyn.
“Tell me what you were talking about earlier. What were you saying about a vampire and a were being bonded?” I demanded.
She shrugged. “I was just saying it’s unusual—that’s all.”
“That is not what you said and you know it,” I snapped. “You said I may be fine being bonded to Victor now but I would have some kind of problems later.”
“I never said anything about problems.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Why? Are you having a problem?”
I just glared at her. Damn it, there was no way I was going to tell her about the weird fantasies and the way my sex drive was suddenly in overdrive, especially when I was around Victor.
“Well?” She drummed her silver fingernails on the arm of the worn armchair she sat in. “I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”
Gwendolyn got up in a businesslike manner.
“I don’t have time to play guessing games, sweetie. It’s going to take a hell of a ritual to send this trap back to the Shadow Lands. Not to mention that I have to store the damn thing in my house without my grandmother finding out until I can get the identity of whoever sent it.” She picked up the plastic bag carefully, keeping an eye on the trap. “Should have charged him more,” she muttered as she left the room, holding the bag and Tupperware container at an arm’s length.
I was starting to feel desperate. Time was ticking away and Gwendolyn had said the ATM was just around the corner. How long could it possibly take for Victor to go get the cash and get back? Not long, I thought. Not long enough to get any answers.
Feeling like I had to do something, I jumped up and followed her, going down the main hallway of the house, which appeared to lead to the bedrooms. I wasn’t sure which one Gwendolyn had gone into but one of the doors was ajar. I was just about to knock on it when, to my surprise, I heard a deep, male voice coming from inside.
“Well, well, mon chaton, are you finally ready to admit you need me?”
“What are you doing here again?” Gwendolyn snapped. “I told you, I’m fine. Why don’t you go back where you belong and leave me alone?”
“Maybe because it’s so much fun to annoy you.” The deep voice grew serious. “Truly though, ma chere, I could feel the curse on that trap from the other side—it drew me. You really mustn’t try to take care of it alone or you’ll be injured. Here—let me.”
“No, leave it. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine if you ever just leave me alone!” She sounded really irritated but also a little breathless.
My curiosity got the better of me and I peeked through the crack in the door to see Gwendolyn standing in what appeared to be a kind of workroom with the cursed trap in her hands. Standing right in front of her was a tall, muscular man with black hair and eyes that were somewhere between maroon and ruby. His tan skin was lighter than her creamy café au lait complexion—the contrast was obvious because he had his hands over hers as he attempted to take the Tupperware container away from her.
“I said let it go,” Gwendolyn demanded, struggling to keep the trap away from him. “Just because I made a deal with you once—one time—to get that damn stake made, doesn’t give you the right to bother me the rest of my whole entire life.”
“But I think you like it when I bother you,” the man murmured. He stopped trying to take the trap from her and stroked her cheek instead. “Much more than you would like to admit, ma chere.” Then, though I would have sworn I was being quiet, he turned to look directly at me, through the crack in the door. “Regrettably I cannot “bother” you nearly as much as I want to as we appear to have company.”
Crap! I took a step back, putting my hand to my suddenly beating heart. There was something in those strange ruby eyes. Something not human…but not were or vampire either. What was he?
“Oh!” Gwendolyn turned to me, an irritated look on her flushed face. “What are you doing sneaking around out there?” she asked.
I raised my chin. “I need to ask you some questions about what you know. I…I need answers before Victor comes back.”
The man’s strange eyes flicked over me and an amused look crossed his devilishly handsome face.
“I do believe your little vampire friend wants to know about all the funny feelings she’s been having ever since she started drinking were blood, mon ange,” he murmured to Gwendolyn.
I looked at him sharply. “Who are you? And how did you know that?”
“I know all kinds of things, mon petite loup. One might say it is my job to know.”
My high school French was really rusty but I did recognize a little.
“My little wolf? Why did you call me that—I’m a vampire.”
“But is a rose that smells like a tiger lily still just a rose?” he asked with a little smile. “What about an orange that tastes like an apple? A cat that barks like a dog?”
“Don’t pay any attention to him.” Gwendolyn gave the man a disgusted look and set the trap, still encased in Tupperware, down with a thump. She came out of the room, closing the door behind her. “Sorry about that—he’s really annoying sometimes.”
“But who is he and what did he mean by all that?” I demanded.
She shook her head. “He’s nobody, okay? Look, I’ll tell you everything I know but we need to go back to the front room.”
I let her lead me back to the living room, but if anything, I was more upset than before.
“Talk,” I said, the minute we were seated on the couch together. “And hurry up—Victor will be back any minute. I need to know what’s going on.”
“What is going on?” Gwendolyn gave me a direct look.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Every time I drink from him I start feeling…strange. And I start having feelings…urges…thinking things I shouldn’t think about. I need help.”
“You can say that again.” She shook her head. “Okay, all I know is that it’s extremely rare for a were and a vamp to pair up—mostly because of the subconscious smell thing we were talking about earlier.”
“Right, go on.” I made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with one hand. “But if they do, what happens?”
She shrugged. “Depends on a lot of factors. The age of the vamp, for one. You haven’t been a vampire for long—you have a lot of human left in you. I bet your heart even still beats, doesn’t it?”
r /> “Well, yes.” I shook my head. “But what does that have to do with it? I still don’t understand.”
“That’s because it’s not cut and dried.” She sighed. “Look, all I can tell you is about the one were/vamp couple I knew personally. Only in their case, he was the vamp and she was the were. Oh, and he was an old vamp too—a three-star one, I think.”
My heart was suddenly in my throat. “What…what happened to them?”
“She started…taking on certain characteristics of a vampire. Developed a taste for blood. Started avoiding the sun. Her pack started persecuting her—I think because she stopped smelling like them and started smelling like him—her vamp lover.” Gwendolyn shook her head. “That girl was a mess.”
“But…what happened to them?” I repeated. “Did somebody die or—?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged again. “They moved away—I think they wanted to get away from her pack. Weres aren’t too tolerant when it comes to interspecies dating. In fact, it’s pretty much downright forbidden.”
“Oh,” I said in a small voice. “I didn’t know it was actually forbidden.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Gwendolyn pointed out. “Isn’t your guy a lone wolf? He should be able to do anything he wants.”
“He does—I think,” I said. “But I know his land is right by the land of the local pack.”
Gwendolyn shook her head and made a tsking sound. “They could be the ones who put the trap on his land then. He’s a lone Alpha right in their territory and now he’s got a vampire wife? That could be bad news. Really bad news. Do they know about you?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so. But that still doesn’t explain what’s happening to me. I mean, Victor doesn’t seem to be taking on any vamp characteristics. He’s not thirsting for blood or—”
“Of course he’s not,” Gwendolyn interrupted me. “He’s been a were all his life—you’ve only been a vamp for less than ten years. If anybody is going to change it’s going to be you, sweetie.”
“So…what?” I shook my head, completely bewildered. “Will I start changing with the full moon? Start getting hairy or having the urge to howl and chase deer and rabbits or something?”
She frowned. “No, I wouldn’t think so. But you’re drinking his blood exclusively—right?”
I nodded. “I can’t drink anyone else’s. Not for three months, until the Laws of Ownership are satisfied.”
“Uh-huh, so you basically have were blood running through your veins. And you’re living in close proximity to him, right?”
“I’m living with him, in his house,” I said. “But I still don’t see—”
Just then the front door of the little house banged open.
“I’m back.” Victor came into the living room with a sheath of bills in his hand. “Had to go down the street to the bank. The ATM at the convenience store was out of order.” He frowned at me and I could feel him wanting to ask if I had given Gwendolyn any of my blood. Somehow, however, he restrained himself.
The witch seemed to sense his unasked question too because she smiled at him and shook her head.
“Don’t worry, wolf—not a drop spilled. The only exchange Taylor and I have been doing is an exchange of information.”
Victor nodded and looked relieved.
“Here.” He thrust the money at Gwendolyn and turned to me. “We need to go.”
“Fine.” I wanted to stay. Wanted to see if I could get anything else out of the witch but I had a feeling it wouldn’t do any good—I would have to figure out what was happening to me on my own.
Chapter Nine—Victor
Taylor followed me out to the truck silently and got in when I opened the door for her. She buckled herself in and stared straight ahead as I drove.
I was regretting our disagreement—had been from the moment I left the witch’s house. The thing was, it was a misunderstanding. I was just trying to look out for her—that’s all. But Taylor was taking it all the wrong way. I wanted to explain it to her, wanted to make her understand but it was clear I was going to have to say the first words. Finally, I cleared my throat and spoke.
“Look, I’m sorry about what happened back there—sorry if I came off as a jerk again,” I said. “I just…didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” she said, still staring at the road. “I know Corbin threatened you to make you take me off his hands and you’re probably afraid if something happens to me he’ll blame you—”
“No, no.” I shook my head. “It’s nothing like that.”
“What is it then?” she asked, turning toward me. “I mean, reminding me that I owe you a blood debt, like that, right in front of—”
“There’s no debt,” I growled. “You don’t owe me a Goddamned thing, Taylor, and you know it.”
“No, I don’t know it,” she snapped. “You’re right—I’m living in your house, sleeping in your bed, drinking your blood, for God’s sake—of course I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything. There’s no debt here—we’re married. And stop acting like it’s just a convenient arrangement,” I went on before she could speak. “It’s not like we’re just roommates sharing the same space—we’re fucking taking care of each other, Goddamnit! You risked your life to bring me in during the dawn and risked it again to get that damn trap off me and heal me.”
“Yes, but you stood up to Roderick for me and you saved me from the sun in the kitchen today,” she pointed out. “And you’re giving me your blood—letting me drink from you.”
“My point exactly.” I tried to control my frustration. If only she would understand! I took a deep breath and tried to explain. “Taylor, we may not have known each other long but there’s more to this marriage than just a few swallows of blood from that fucking Chalice of Union, or whatever it was. So there’s no debt and I wasn’t trying to say there was.”
“Fine, okay.” She held up both hands. “It just…it made me feel bad,” she said quietly. “Like…like I didn’t want to drink from you anymore.”
“What?” I gave her a startled look. “Look, you can’t let yourself starve to death just because I was being an ass.”
“I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do,” she said softly, looking out the window. “I…I’ve been a burden and a failure for the last six years, ever since I was turned into this.” She motioned at herself. “I just…I don’t want to feel like that anymore. Don’t want to feel like I’m inconveniencing you.”
“Taylor—” I started.
“No.” she shook her head. “Maybe it would be better if I left. I have to start fending for myself, Victor. Have to get out in the world and live on my own.”
“No, you don’t.” I pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. The protective possessiveness was rolling over me again, an instinct too strong to deny. “Look at me,” I demanded.
She turned toward me, her arms crossed protectively over her breasts.
“What?”
“Taylor…God, how do I say this?” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Look, I don’t mind letting you drink from me. I thought I would but I don’t, okay? And I don’t want you going anywhere—you belong in my house with me— nowhere else.”
“Victor—” she started to protest but I held up a hand to stop her.
“When the three months is over, you can go where you want and do what you want. But until then…” I leaned forward, looking intently into her eyes. “Until then, Taylor, you’re mine. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. Mine to nourish. Just like the vows we took said—vows I don’t intend to break. Do you understand? Mine.” The last word was a low growl, more animal than human. It came from deep inside me—from the wolf wanting to protect its mate.
She looked at me for a long time and I could hear her heart racing in the silence of the cab. Probably, I was scaring her to death but I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t stop myself
from laying claim to her. She was mine, damn it. Mine.
“All right,” she whispered at last, nodding. “I get it.”
“No.” I shook my head. I needed more than just a simple acknowledgement that she’d heard me. “Say it, Taylor,” I told her. “I want to hear you say that you’re mine.”
“I…” she licked her lips nervously. “I’m yours, Victor,” she said in a trembling voice. “Only…only yours.”
“Good.” I nodded, feeling something inside my chest loosen. But there was something else to clear up. “And I want to hear you say you’ll drink from me every time you’re thirsty,” I told her. “Every Goddamn time.”
“I…” For some reason she hesitated, her eyes wide as she looked at me. Why was this a problem? She needed my blood and I wanted her to take it—no, I needed her to take it, damn it!
“Say it,” I demanded. I tried to make my voice a little softer but I couldn’t help the intensity of my gaze as I looked at her. “Say you’ll drink from me, baby,” I urged her. “I want you to.”
“I…I’ll drink from you,” she whispered at last.
“Good.” At last, I felt satisfied. Turning back to the road, I started the truck again. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”
“Um, me too, I guess.” she glanced at me uncertainly. “Do you really think Gwendolyn would have used my blood to hurt me—if I had given her some, I mean? Because I didn’t,” she added hurriedly.
I frowned. “I don’t know. Probably not but…there’s something about her. Something not right—didn’t you feel it?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, sounding mystified. “Do weres have a sixth sense about that kind of thing?”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “I just feel like…like there’s a darkness hovering around her. A shadow on her soul.” I cast a sidelong glance at her. “Sounds like mystical bullshit, right?”
“Not really—you have to go with your instincts.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well…Look, since we’re in the city, do you want to stop by Corbin’s club and get some clothes? I know I dragged you out of there with nothing last night.”