Page 83 of Taming His Vampire Mate

He moved instantly, one hand cupping my cheek, the other around my waist. Strong for a mortal, he crushed me to him. But when his warm, soft lips met mine, his kiss was gentle.

Fire sparked low in my belly. His scent coiled around us, making the rest of the world vanish. My arms circled his waist. The solid muscle beneath his clothes, the smooth masculine hardness of him, felt like a promise.

When my lips parted in invitation, his kiss deepened—more demanding now. His tongue swept mine, and I let out a soft noise of need. My cock hardened, and he was hard too, pressed against me.

It wasn’t sloppy or selfish. It was tender and forceful, as though he was pouring every ounce of feeling into it, telling me without words how he felt.

In eight hundred years, no one had ever kissed me like that.

The half-formed blood bond felt suddenly tangible, cocooning us. I wasn’t a vampire and he wasn’t a wolf. There was only him and me.

It could have been a minute or an hour. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was rough.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he said, his eyes bright and his lips swollen. The lopsided grin he gave me made me want to kiss him all over again.

“Yes, well,” I said, straightening my velvet jacket. “It wasn’t awful or anything.”

His gaze dipped lower, his grin widening. “I can see that.”

I huffed. “We ought to get Quinn back to the others.”

“Sure thing,” Jeremy said, still grinning in a way that had me half-believing he was the big bad wolf after all and might swallow me whole.

I wasn’t entirely sure I would have minded.

* * *

We ended up taking Quinn through the back door of Nathaniel’s Place again. Oddly enough, frog-marching an unconscious vampire past several dozen vampires, humans, and witches in the bar wasn’t my idea of a good time.

The door was warded against intrusion, but at my touch it flung itself open—courtesy of a spell the witch queen herself had cast. It opened onto a long hallway: three storerooms, a break room with couches for human patrons who’d had too much to drink, the entrance to the upstairs apartments, and—around the corner—another warded door leading down to the basement stairs.

Those last two doors were heavily protected. Making friends with the witches last year instead of mutually annihilating each other had its perks. Better security was one of them. Though it hadn’t slowed Quinn down.

Derek was in the break room, snoring peacefully.

I recognized his scent and steady breathing at once. Most of our regulars adored him and would defend him violently if needed, despite the fact that he wasn’t a donor or anyone’s mate. Nearly unflappable, yes—but he still drank too much, ending up here more often than not. He never told anyone why he’d moved across the country to a place where he knew no one. If pressed—even by Nathaniel—he shut down and changed the subject. My guess? He was outrunning something ugly. I could see the pain in his eyes sometimes, when he was drunk enough.

Normally, I would have checked on him and made sure there was water, aspirin, and a bucket ready. But if he was already asleep, someone had probably handled it. Besides, we had a murderous vampire to chain up.

Or rather, Jeremy did.

I needed my hands free to open the warded doors, which were keyed to me. Quinn hung over Jeremy’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry—no small feat for a mortal man, though Jeremy wasn’t human. Still, he wasn’t as strong as a vampire. And his healing… it was far too limited.

If something bad enough happened in daylight, or on a dark moon, or during an eclipse, he wouldn’t survive. He wouldn’t live forever. He’d die someday. And maybe soon, if I let him go back to the mountains to fight to the death in order to give up being his pack’s alpha.

Jeremy glanced at me over the shoulder not occupied by an unconscious predator, so he’d probably caught that thought. Wisely, he said nothing.

I led the way to the basement door.

This time, we’d bind Quinn with spelled chain. Or ward the room itself.

I touched the door. It swung inward—

Quinn’s eyes opened.

He launched himself off Jeremy’s shoulder in a blur, slamming my wolf into the wall.

“Not again!” Quinn hissed, backing away, eyes locked on me like I might bite him.