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  She grew weaker much too quickly, and I growled with frustration, lifting her into my lap without breaking my hold on her. I continued to drink, feeling so weak and depleted that I didn't even know how I had the strength to hold her up.

  This wasn't how I'd wanted to be reunited with her. Her arms and head flopped back, and I forced myself to stop, needing to hold her, question her, make sure she was okay. I cradled her to me, trembling.

  “You received The Awakening again,” I said, my voice raspy. “I can taste it in your blood. You have it. You and him.” I didn't even want to defile her with his name. Head drooping, I pressed my face into her hair. She didn't reply, and I knew she couldn't. I hated that I hadn't been able to stop myself sooner. “So, he wins in the end. I'm mortal, and you're not. He can kill me and keep you too. I've failed completely.” In so many ways, I'd let her down.

  “No.” Her voice was so soft I barely heard it.

  I lifted her chin so she could see me, unable to stop the tears that ran down my face. She seemed so small and weak. I had no idea what my father might have done to her.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “Don't give up,” she whispered. “Not yet.” It was all she could manage before passing out from blood loss. I held her tightly, and wept, not caring who might hear me as the sound echoed off the walls. I had so many regrets when it came to Portia. There were times I wished she'd never met me. Her life would've been happy and carefree, not entangled in this terrible mess. I'd made too many errors, and she was constantly paying for my mistakes. I couldn't do this to her anymore.

  But I was a greedy bastard too. Her love was the only light in my life. I didn't want to lose it. I still wanted the dream; a happy marriage, filled with love, laughter, and children.

  What a pipe dream that was now. I didn't even know how to survive the next minute, let alone build a future with her.

  Raising my head, I glanced around the latest dungeon we found ourselves in. It was indeed a cave, and a fairly massive one at that. High ceilings soared overhead, and the walls glittered with some kind of crystal. Candles were everywhere, massive clumps of all sizes lighting the cavernous space. It would almost be romantic if it weren't for the danger we were in.

  There were a few pieces of furniture scattered about the room, a red tufted Victorian sofa, and a massive bed draped in purple silks. Portia had been laid out there before, though I'd failed to notice the fanciness of the bed. I really hoped nothing terrible had happened to her there, but I couldn't ask her until she woke up.

  Glancing around my immediate position, I realized I was sitting on a massive stone altar, with steps leading up to it. I'd been sacrificed many times on this slab, the bloodstains evident in the glow.

  Sighing, I carefully checked the room. I didn't see my father or a door out of this place. He must've concealed it somehow. I was glad he was gone though. I was tired of his gloating and leering glances at Portia.

  Holding her carefully, I slipped off the altar, making my way down the stone steps and over to the bed. I flicked my hand, surprised when my magic actually responded, sending the throw pillows flying everywhere as the covers peeled back. Gently, I laid Portia in the middle and climbed beside her.

  I took the time to pull the blankets over us, grateful for any kind of protection they might offer. Dragging Portia into my arms, I needed to know she was safely tucked beside me.

  Staring at her, I was content to have her back in my arms, but it didn't take long for events to catch up with me. I soon joined her in an exhausted sleep.

  A soft movement stirred beside me, and it was the sign I'd been waiting for. I'd checked her repeatedly over the last several hours—at least I assumed it was hours since I had no way to tell the time. “You're awake,” I said, happy to see Portia coherent. “You were asleep for quite a while this time.”

  “I'm sorry,” she replied, and I thought her voice was the most beautiful sound in the world. She ruffled my hair, and I rolled away, scooting to sit against the headboard. I pulled her into my arms.

  “Stop apologizing; you've done nothing wrong. I'm the one who should be sorry.”

  “But you needed it.” She slipped her arms around my waist, creating an incredible sensation inside me. I wondered if she knew what her touch did to my body. “I know that.”

  “But I hate what it does to you. It knocks you out cold every time.” It was the truth. I might enjoy the taste of her, but I'd give anything to never drink from her again. I didn't like causing her suffering.

  “I'm—”

  “Don't you dare apologize again,” I snapped, immediately regretting my forceful words. That wasn't how I meant it to sound. Irritated with myself, I banged my head against the headboard. Portia stared at me, concern evident on her pretty features. “What do we do now, baby?”

  Climbing to her knees, she took my face in her hands, gazing intently into my eyes. “Talk to me, Vance. Tell me what you're feeling.”

  I struggled with this request, not wanting her to be further tainted by all the darkness that lay inside me.

  “Please don't shut me out. If we're going to get through this together, then we need to learn to operate on the same wavelength again.”

  Anger flooded through me at her words, bringing up all the differences between us. Gaps my scumbag father had managed to make even wider. “That's exactly what the problem is! There is no “together” anymore. He's taken you from me! Just like he promised he would.”

  Surprise lit her face. “No! He hasn't taken me from you. I'm still yours one hundred percent, and I'm here with you now.”

  “For how long, Portia?” I grabbed her hands and removed them. “A day? A week? A month? Until he decides to kill me and not allow me to wake up again? Then we are separated for a long, long, time. He'll have you all to himself, to bend to his mercy, and there is nothing I can do about it! I can't protect you because he's stronger than me now. I've failed you in every way possible!” My voice cracked on that last word, conveying my vulnerability. I hadn't meant for her to know how badly broken I felt.

  “Oh, Vance.” She wrenched her hands free of mine, retaking my face, surprising me when she plastered a hot kiss against my lips.

  Damn, I missed her. Wild horses couldn't have stopped my arms from wrapping around her, and I quickly rolled her over, so I was on top of her. The fact that she even wanted anything to do with me was my undoing. Tears fell from my eyes, splashing to her cheeks, or maybe she was just crying too.

  I kissed her deeply, fire racing through me. I couldn't get enough. Needing to hold, have, and protect her, I crushed her even tighter to me. My lips moved across her cheeks, kissing the trail of tears before I naturally bent to the curve of her neck. I wouldn't bite. I didn't care how much it hurt not to. I needed to know she was safe in my arms for a change. I wanted to give back her safety.

  “I can't lose you again, Portia,” I said against her warm skin. Those words were my mistake, releasing the raw pent up horror I'd been holding inside me since the day I thought I'd killed her. Sobs wracked my body. I couldn't stop them, no matter how hard I tried. I felt pathetic and vulnerable, utterly defeated. Never had emotion taken such a terrible hold over me. I couldn't stop shuddering, unable to speak, or even explain myself. She had no idea what I'd endured while she'd been sleeping, no idea of the pain and torture Damien had put me through. I didn't want her to know. I didn't want him to see my weakness either, but I'd do it all again if it meant keeping her safe.

  I had no idea if he'd taken her anyway. Who knew what he might have done? The very thought was eating me raw inside. What if she got pregnant or something? That would be precisely the kind of shit he would pull, just to make us suffer further. I shuttered my mind, not wanting her to hear my wretched thoughts.

  Portia held me, patting my hair, my skin, and murmuring soothing tones that weren't really words. Who knew what she'd been through? And here she was trying to comfort me during a complete mental breakdown. I was such a damn ass. I
should be comforting her.

  “Vance,” her soft voice finally reached out to me. I raised my head to look in her eyes. The red haze was back in my vision, but I was too tired to care. “I need you to understand something. Whatever happens from here on out, whether we're fortunate enough to be together, or should we be separated—I'll always love you, and only you, and that is all that's important. No matter what he does, he'll never be able to break our bond, and that alone will make us the victors in this.”

  Her words threatened to bowl me over. How could she always look for silver linings? I stared at her for a few moments before stroking my hand over her long locks. “I wish I could bottle your optimism and sell it to the world. I've never met another person like you. You're stronger than anyone I've ever known. I love you more than anything. You know that, right?”

  “I know.”

  I needed to kiss her, so I did. Pressing hard against her, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, I rejoiced when hers tangled with mine. Something about her seemed hesitant, though, and I almost pulled away, but suddenly she was there with me, full force. Pulling me tighter to her, her leg snaked around mine, locking our hips together.

  “I want you,” I spoke against her mouth, my body quickly turning into a raging inferno. “I need you.”

  “I need you too,” she replied breathlessly.

  My lips claimed hers again, and I let my hand trailed down her body. She arched beneath me in response to my caresses, and I couldn't help groaning. I wanted to be inside her. Now.

  “Well, isn't this cozy,” my father's voice interrupted.

  Immediately, I broke away from Portia, blasting a fireball in the direction of the sound. The magic hit him full-on, and to my utter dismay, did nothing. I watched in horror as he completely absorbed the power.

  Shit!

  Damien lifted his damn chalice and took a drink, eyes never leaving me. He acted as if he didn't have a care in the world. “Isn't it funny how this Awakening thing works?” he said, lowering the cup. “You're no threat to me at all, son.”

  “I'm not your son.” I wished there was a way to remove all his genetics from me.

  “Oh, but you are! And that's the beauty of it all.” He moved closer, and I adjusted myself, sheltering Portia from him. He laughed outright. “She's stronger than you are now, you know that, right?”

  I shook my head. “No, she's not. You've bound her powers with a serum. I can taste it in her blood.”

  “Yes, that's true, but I can't kill her, at least not permanently. You on the other hand . . .” He let his words trail off.

  “Yeah, I know you can kill me, Dad,” I replied, putting all the derisiveness I could muster into the name. “But know this—as long as there's breath in my body, I'll do all in my power to defend her. I don't care who's more powerful around here.”

  For the briefest of moments, I swore I saw something flicker—like respect—in his eyes, but it was too fleeting to be sure. “We'll see about that.” He gave a nonchalant shrug and walked away, before pausing. “Oh. I thought you both might like to clean up. There are facilities through there.” With a wave of his hand, a door suddenly appeared not too far from the bed.

  I glanced at Portia, and she seemed just as surprised as me, but when I looked back at him, he was gone. Dammit! I didn't see how he'd left the room. That would be crucial for our escape.

  “Where are we?” Portia asked quietly, her eyes darting about.

  “I don't know. But I have a feeling things are not as they seem.”

  “Do you think it's some type of . . . glamour?”

  “I'm not sure. Maybe. But whatever is going on here, he's definitely in control of it.”

  “I gathered that much.” She slumped against my shoulder, obviously as exhausted by the whole ordeal as I was. I patted her leg reassuringly.

  “Come on. Let's go check this out and see if we can get cleaned up.”

  “I'm afraid to,” she said. “What if it's some trap? Just another way for him to toy with us?”

  “Well then, I guess we'll see, won't we?” Sliding from the bed, I held a hand out. She took a moment before she finally slipped hers into mine. Together we moved, and I released her to reach for the knob. I needed to be ready for a surprise attack.

  “Wait!” Portia yelped, grabbing me by the arm. “If it's a trap I'll be useless to you since my powers are bound. Do whatever you have to, just make sure to not worry about me. Save yourself. I'll survive no matter what. You're the important one.”

  Was she kidding me? Like I would ever willingly leave her behind. “Oh, Portia. What did I ever do to deserve you?” I paused to kiss her mouth, and then leaned my forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. “Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more important to me than you.” She opened her mouth as if to argue, but I placed a finger over it. “No more talking. It's time to find out what's behind door number one.”

  She held her breath as I opened it and peeked inside.

  “What do you see?”

  “A bathroom, just like he said it would be,” I replied, pulling her into the lavish area. While we were still in the cave, it was clear some substantial designing had gone into it.

  Part of the floor was sunken to create a tub, filled with several feet of steaming water. The area was flanked with large dripping candles on massive candelabras. A fancy bowl sink set in a marble-topped cabinet graced one wall, with an elegant recessed mirror above it. On the other side was a toilet. Large wooden shelves held several towels and toiletry items, and there were hooks with white terry cloth robes, just like any fine hotel would have. Beyond that was a door. I went to check it, finding a massive closet and dressing area.

  “What is this?” Portia asked, running her fingers down a fancy table complete with a vanity. It had all kinds of cosmetics, hair products, lotions, shaving creams, and the like. Candles also illuminated this room. “I feel like I just stepped into the personal grotto of the Phantom of the Opera,” Portia said, her fingers tapping some crystal prisms on the candelabras and making them swing.

  “Looks like he's planning on having us stay for a while,” I said, sliding one of the mirrored doors open and finding it stuffed with men's clothing. I grabbed a shirt and examined the tag. “Just my size.” I pushed open the other closet to find clothes for Portia.

  “Well, I guess the good thing about this is it means he doesn't have plans to kill us. At least not right away,” she said.

  I grunted, not wanting to give a damn about what Damien intended, even though I did. I walked back into the bathroom. “Let's get cleaned up. I feel positively grungy.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Going to one of the walls, I pressed against it, allowing my magic to ripple through. It felt strong enough.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Testing the structure.”

  “And?”

  “It seems pretty solid to me. I don't think it's glamour. For some reason, he must've felt the need to conceal the door.”

  “Oh, I don't even care anymore,” she said, sinking onto the lid of the toilet. “I'm beginning to think everything Damien does is all for show anyway.”

  “You noticed that, too, huh? I say, let's forget Damien for the moment.” I gestured to the tub. “This promises to be a lot more fun.” Grinning at her, I knew I'd be lying if I didn't admit I was looking forward to having my sexy wife in my arms. “Care to join me?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, slipping her hand into mine.

  I pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

  3

  After allowing ourselves a few moments of snatched pleasure, Portia and I got out of the tub and dried off. Heading into the large closet and dressing area, we started going through the clothing that had been left there for us.

  I hated it all. It wasn't my taste unless I was planning to become the next Hugh Heffner. Ninety percent of the damn stuff was some kind of silky pajamas, though there were a few suits in here. Those reminded me of Damien, and I'd p
refer to be the late Heff, than him.

  Portia was grumbling under her breath as well, something about all of her attire looking like a cross between streetwalkers on Hollywood Boulevard and Laura Croft's Tomb Raider. I couldn't help the smile since she'd been already sporting the Tomb Raider look a few times during her stay with Hex. Thinking of him made me grumpy, so I brushed it from my mind.

  “I'd rather be dead than caught wearing these,” I mumbled, holding up a pair of silky leopard print pajamas.

  “How about we share?” Portia suggested. “I could wear the top, and you could wear the bottoms.

  Now, this I could get behind. Holding the top out, she took it. I couldn't take my eyes off her as I slid the pants on, tying them, so they hung loosely on my hips. She noticed, her eyes traveling over my abs to the v-cut area she loved so much.

  I returned the look, enjoying the way the shirt hung over her curves. The damn thing practically drowned her though, dropping to her knees, and her arms were missing somewhere in the long sleeves.

  “Here. Let me help you with that.” I took a cuff and started folding it over on itself before I finally reached her forearm. “Well, what do you know? There was a limb in there after all!” I said, giving a chuckle and a half snort as I moved to the other side to make it match. “That's because you're such a tiny slip of a thing. You shouldn't be playing in big boy's clothes.”

  “Whatever!” she replied, rolling her eyes at me. “That has to be one of the most male chauvinistic things I've ever heard come out of your mouth.”

  “If the shoe fits . . .” I trailed off, grinning as she shoved me and moved toward the door. “Hey, Portia, wait up,” I added seriously.

  “What's the matter?” she gazed at me questioningly.

  “Let me go first.”

  A deep sigh escaped her. “Vance. You've got to quit trying to protect me. He can't hurt me. Not really.”

  Unable to help myself, I wrapped my arms around her, dragging her closer. I ran a hand over her wet hair as I stared lovingly. “I know you're immortal again, and I'm still trying to resign myself to that fact. But he can hurt you. You might not be permanently injured, but he can harm you.” Studying her features, I continued to stroke her hair, wanting to convey my warnings without totally scaring her. “Besides, I'm more afraid of the things he wants to do to you that wouldn't necessarily cause you physical pain.”