Bond Deeper Than Blood

Each night she argues. Tonight, she doesn’t. No, she kisses me again.

Now that I’ve come into my powers, I’m learning I can glamour, dreamwalk, and spike—short transport through hard materials like doors and walls. While glamouring is nice to get my way and dreamwalking is great for visiting Castilla, it isn’t until I quietly pass through her apartment door that I enjoy the ability to spike.

Beck will be pleased at the growth in my power.

The apartment is quiet. I creep through the dark space, wincing slightly when one of the boards beneath my feet creaks. Tilting my head to the side, I listen for any sounds. Nothing. Just the rustling of the bat in Mercy’s room. I start to step forward when something attacks me, taking me by surprise.

I hear everything.

But I didn’t hear this or even sense it.

Something sharp digs into my flesh beneath chin as a tiny female tackles me to the floor. Red lightning lights up her big brown eyes.

“Good evening, love.” I grin at her. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Her features are still twisted in anger but then confusion bleeds through. “Why doesn’t this burn you?” She pulls her ruby stake away and holds it between us.

“Because those belonged to my mother and were passed on to me. Since, they’ve been passed on to you. But the stakes never forget their owners.”

Castilla

I’m puzzled about the ineffectualness of the stakes and slightly annoyed by Laurent’s sneaking in, but I can’t ignore that I’m also secretly excited to see him.

Which makes no sense.

I’m exhausted after hunting down the pale-haired twins all night to no avail. Every night it’s more of the same. They leave a trail of bodies or infected vampires, but are quick to hide or run away before I can get to them.

Yet, I’m feeling quite awake now that Laurent is here.

As though his presence makes my body thrum and my chest tighten. I should be disgusted over the fact I’m straddling the waist of a vampire and haven’t killed him yet because I’m too drunk on the memory of his dream kisses.

“Dreamwalking is real, isn’t it?” I ask, frowning at him. “You were there, weren’t you?”

“I needed to see you.”

That means, for the past two weeks since he and Beck first came into my apartment, he’s been kissing me and talking to me and touching me in my dreams. Before that, for those three months, he was also there. Every night since that night in the park, I’ve spent with Laurent.

“You should go,” I grumble, though deep down I don’t mean it, which scares me.

“I’d rather stay.”

With those words, he rises to his feet with me in his arms, so quickly my head spins. He prowls through the dark apartment, carrying me to my bedroom. My heartrate quickens when he lowers us onto the bed, this time with me beneath him.

“Laurent,” I murmur, a weak protest before his lips press to mine.

Unlike my dreams, this feels real. It took me years to let Jude close to me, but Laurent is storming my heart without problems. I want to push him away and tell him to go, but I like his touch.

This is sick.

He’s a murdering vampire who wanted to eat me as a child.

He won’t hurt me.

“Doesn’t this disturb you?” I murmur when he pulls away. “The last you saw me, I was a child.”

“You’re different to me now than you were then,” he whispers. “I still have the desire to protect you with everything in me, though. That never went away.”

He peels away my gown, leaving me in only my panties. I let him. I let him strip away my only barrier between us. What is wrong with me?

I don’t care.

I just want him.

“Are you glamouring me?” I ask, my chest heaving with each breath I take.

He pulls away to turn on the bedside lamp. His dark hair is disheveled, and his red eyes shine with need. “I don’t think so.”

“How can I be for sure?”

“Take your panties off and spread your legs,” he rumbles, his voice almost musical. My nerve endings flare to life and a whine crawls up my throat. I start to lift my ass to obey when he splays a palm over my stomach. “Leave them on.”

The fog clears and I gape at him. “You just did it.”

“Feel the difference?”

I nod, hating how much of my want is just on me. He’s not doing anything but being himself. I’m to blame for this intense craving for him.

His lips crash to mine again, his teeth nicking my lip. It stings and the metallic taste of my blood spreads over my tongue. A feral growl escapes him as he sucks my lip into his mouth. His cock—hard and impressive—rubs against my clit, making me whimper.

I want less clothes between us.

I want all of him.