Page 43 of Hunted (Love and Revenge #5)

He froze, and his hand which had been softly caressing my upper arm suddenly gripped hard instead. He sucked in a breath. “No. I. I need to go.”

I reached for him as he moved to get off the bed. “Josh? What’s wrong? Is Acacia—”

He laughed bitterly. “No. It’s not Acacia. This time it’s all me. I might not be entirely at fault, but the truth is, I’m still a monster, Ruya.”

I frowned. Sadavir moved and I followed his urging so we all sat over the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?” I said, honestly confused.

“You smell so good,” Josh said softly. His voice dropped again, doing that sultry vampire thing, and the sound settled right between my legs. “I can hear your heartbeat. Feel your pulse under your skin, calling to me. I almost bit you, Ruya. Without even thinking.”

I just sat there for a second or two, processing. Then I smiled in relief. I couldn’t help it. I’d thought there was something much worse going on. “You think you’re a monster because you wanted to feed from me?”

At his stubborn silence, I nudged my shoulder against his. “Josh. I’ve fed Martina plenty of times. Do you think she’s a monster?”

“That’s not the same thing,” he said, voice going a bit petulant. “It’s not funny.”

I tried not to be too flippant about his concern, I really did.

But of all the things for him to be concerned about.

“I’ve fed you before. I donated blood when you were first turned, when you were recovering.

And I allowed a direct bite before that, when you were still in and out of consciousness.

So has Sadavir. It didn’t harm us in any way. ”

I caught myself squirming a bit in my seat, and forced myself to stop. Didn’t harm me was a very mild way of putting it. But I knew how Josh felt about sex—I wasn’t sure now was the time to share with him how arousing it apparently was to feed a vampire...

“That’s not the same thing,” Josh said, clearly not knowing where my mind had gone.

“Feeding me because I was newly changed and in need of sustenance, or feeding Martina now and then to fill a basic need.” His voice grew closer as he paced by the bed, the tone filled with shame.

“Ruya, I don’t need blood right now. I’m not starving or newly awoken from my change.

I just want it. Do you understand? I don’t want to be the kind of creature who feeds off others just for fun.

What kind of monster takes joy in hurting others? ”

Acacia probably did. And that was the point, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to be like the other vampires he’d met, cruel and selfish, living only for his own pleasure, his own depraved enjoyment. But... given my previous reaction to his bite, I had the feeling it didn’t have to be that way.

“Josh, a true monster wouldn’t be worried about this,” I said with a little smile, urging him to stop being so hard on himself all the time.

“The mere fact that you are thinking about our wellbeing is proof you are still the caring, loving beta you always were. You just have different... interests now.” I shook my head adamantly, then took a breath, ready to expose my guilty secret, if it helped him cope.

“Wanting to nibble on me doesn’t make you a monster any more than the fact that I actually enjoy—”

The words dried up in my throat as a groan escaped me instead. Not a death song. Not quite. But something wasn’t right. My healing powers were telling me someone nearby needed me. Urgently.

The assassination mission!

I shot to my feet and rushed out of the room.

Sadavir and Josh followed me as I raced through the halls of the private living areas, all the way to the back, down a flight of stairs to a reinforced and warded steel door.

My hands pressed to cold metal, my heartbeat pounding in my ears and my breathing loud to my own ears.

I knew it before they even opened the door.

I felt it in the tug behind my breastbone—Cicely’s aura sparking with the sort of disarray caused by severe pain and shock.

He never should have gone with them. I knew he hated being left out, and that he wanted to feel strong, and this was a fae they were dealing with and familiar territory for him, but. .. why did Robin let him go?

They got close enough for his mind speak to reach me. Hurt but alive, he insisted. That should have comforted me. It didn’t.

When they came out of the tunnels and into The Fox, it was with tight, agitated auras and grim voices.

I smelled smoke, and it got closer as Robin’s powerful aura brushed past me.

She didn’t speak to me, just breezed past, ignoring me as she had been for days now.

And Cicely—I rushed toward where I felt his aura, cloaked in darkness.

It took me a moment to register that he was leaning against Dusek’s side.

My fingers brushed over a bandage that had been wrapped around his torso, but it was already damp with blood as he bled right through the attempt at first aid.

I didn’t ask questions. I just dropped into that space I went to in life-or-death situations.

I tuned into what my healing powers were telling me, tuning out everything else.

Cicely was still alive, yes. And arguably further from death than he had been the last time I had to patch him up.

But not by much. If I wasn’t here, he would bleed out before they could fetch the healer.

I was here, though. And I refused to let that happen.

*****

B y the time I had Cicely healed, settled in his room and resting, my hands were shaking, and my chest felt too tight to breathe.

I should rest too. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed with him and join him in dreamland.

But I couldn’t. I felt restless, an odd sense of something that needed to be done pushing and pulling at me.

Some instinct calling to me that I couldn’t quite name.

So, I wandered. The halls were quiet. The air hummed with residual tension, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Cheese Crackers met me near the elevator, his tiny paws reaching up to delicately touch my leg. He squeaked at me once—sharp, insistent—and I knelt down.

“I know,” I whispered, stroking a finger down his back. “She’s worse again tonight, isn’t she?”

He let out a little huff, like an exasperated sigh. “Your dragon needs you. I’m not enough this time.” He squeaked again, then tapped the metal of the elevator door. I deliberated, biting my lip hard enough to bruise.

Robin hadn’t spoken more than a few clipped words to me since the night I accepted the true mate bond with Sadavir.

I didn’t think she was mad at me—not really.

I assumed she just needed time and space to adjust, to let her alpha instincts settle.

I had tried my best to give her that time and space. But I couldn’t do this anymore.

I couldn’t stay away.

Closing my eyes, I let my aura unfurl around me, opening, reaching out, searching for the fiery aura of my other true mate. The one who feared our bond. Sighing softly when I sensed her, I followed the pull toward the alpha dragon.

I found her on the roof of The Fox. The access hatch was open, and I popped my head up, taking a bracing breath of fresh air before I carefully finished climbing the old metal ladder and perched on the roof with my back to the solid bricks of one of the chimneys.

The space was lit only by the dim light of the waxing moon and the faint amber flicker of the city in the distance, blurs of light against the landscape of grays and blacks that filled my vision.

I could sense Robin nearby, and a scuff of sound told me she had stepped closer, probably as afraid as I was about the blind woman being up on the roof. The faint whiff of smoke that reached me was just proof of her worry and strain, despite her stoic silence.

“I thought you’d still be with Cicely,” she finally said.

“I needed some air.” I shuffled myself a little closer to her on my bottom, not feeling confident enough to stand up. One misstep and I’d be a stain on the sidewalk below. “And you.”

Silence.

“I’m not here to talk about the mission,” I added gently.

“I know from the others that you did what you set out to do, and that you brought back the stupid bauble she asked you for.” The proof this time was a pendant laced with traces of the now-dead fae’s personal magic.

Acacia’s sick collection of trophies was disgusting.

“And I know what it costs you to deal with Acacia.” That was the more important part.

Robin didn’t reply immediately. But something in the air shifted.

Then she spoke in that deceptively soft voice that sounded pleasant, but hid teeth and claws.

“If you’re not here to talk about the mission, then what are you here for?

Your new mate hasn’t done something to upset you, has he?

If he’s mistreated you, I will rend him in two and devour his entrails. ”

“What? No. Sadavir...” I had been about to leap to his defense and tell her how wonderful and attentive my mate was, but maybe that wasn’t the best response, considering who I was speaking to. “I’m not here to talk about Sadavir,” I said, waving that away.

I took a deep breath and soldiered on with things she probably wanted to hear even less than my gushing over Sadavir. “I’m here to remind you that you’re not alone. That you don’t have to do this with your armor strapped on so tight it suffocates you.”

She finally crouched down, her knee bumping into mine.

Goddess, she was tired. I could feel it in her aura, my healing powers automatically reaching for her.

I didn’t have much left after healing Cicely, but I recovered quickly.

And healing her minor depletion was far less taxing than knitting someone’s body back together and helping them make more blood.