Chapter 9

Nine

When we reemerge on the mortal side of the gate into the meadow just outside Midnight Harbor, the sun is gone and the sky is clear and filled with stars.

The air smells crisp, promising rain, and I’m relieved by it. The fae realm was too hot, too sticky. I hated every part of it.

Baspin says to the guards, “Do you even know where we’re going?”

They pause when we reach the forest where crickets and frogs make a song in the night.

“I’ve never been to this side,” the guard on the right admits.

“Neither have I,” the other one in front adds.

“Then let me take the lead.” Baspin pushes through me and Bran, but Bran stops him.

“Best you stay behind us.” Bran gives the blond fae a leveled look. “I can lead so that on the off chance we run into anyone, or anything , in the forest, I can easily and quickly vouch for you all.”

It sounds logical when he explains it that way, but I know Bran well enough by now to know something else is afoot.

“Careful, vampire,” the burly fae beside me warns. “If we don’t return to the fae realm, there will be war.”

“Of course.” Bran gives a shallow bow. It’s all for show. Bran doesn’t bow to anyone. “I would never risk such a thing.”

Yes, he would.

He turns and heads down the dirt path.

Goosebumps rise on my forearms the deeper we get into the woods. The trees are so thick with leaves, it’s hard to see the stars above.

The path curves around a cluster of pine trees and for a moment, Bran disappears from my sight.

I hear his voice though, whispering from the dark…in Greek .

A chill slithers down my spine.

I glance at Damien, just a pace behind me. His eyes are glowing blue in the dark.

Oh shit.

Damien replies in Greek.

And then it’s chaos.

Vampires dart across the path, their movements a blur.

A fae cries out. Another grunts and hits his knees. A third tries to pull his sword out, but there’s already a long gash in his throat, blood spilling out in a curtain.

The burly fae grabs for me, putting me in front of him like a shield.

Something slams into him from behind. I hear the familiar sound of a bone breaking.

The fae howls.

Bran is suddenly in front of me, blood splattered across his face, dripping from his mouth, his fangs sharp in his mouth.

“Your first mistake,” he tells the burly man, “was existing.”

The wind kicks up and the buzzing of fae magic starts down my back. But it’s too late. Bran sinks an iron blade into the fae’s chest and my back is immediately coated in the hot geyser of his blood.

The man takes me down with him, but I quickly roll onto all fours, then scramble to my feet. He coughs up blood, his big body trembling. The wind dies and the fae magic dissipates.

It’s over within minutes.

That’s all it took for Bran, Damien, and several vampires strategically hiding in the woods with iron weapons to take out six highly trained fae guards.

I stand in the middle of the carnage trying to decide how I feel about it while their blood drips from my fingertips.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” I finally ask, my body trembling from the shock and the chill in the air.

Bran crouches beside the burly fae and checks the man’s pockets pulling out a medallion, a dagger, and several gold coins. He thieves all of it.

The vampires who ambushed gather round. The only one I recognize is Jimmy.

“Well done, Jim,” Bran says. “Right on time.”

“Jimmy was always the most punctual out of all of us.” Damien swipes the messy blade of his dagger across his leg, cleaning off the blood.

“How are we going to answer for this, though?” I turn a circle, pointing at the damage with flailing arms. “The queen is going to wonder where her guards are! She’s going to want to know what we did to them, and she’ll find out and then?—”

“Let me worry about that,” Bran says, dragging a fae off the path and into the underbrush.

“ Let you —you must be joking! This is insane. We’re going to be in so much trouble and?—”

He stalks over to me, still bloodied, eyes still glowing from the rush of the kill. He wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me into the thick trunk of a nearby tree. “You are mine. Do you understand what that means, Mouse? That means that if someone threatens you, even if it’s wrapped up under the guise of protecting you, I will destroy them. It might be one stone at a time, like this, disposing of guards so I can get us to the next stage of fucking their shit up. Because that’s what I intend to do. I will fuck their shit up for thinking they have any fucking right to take you from me.” He leans in closer, his pupils contracting, allowing more of the golden glow of his irises to show against the night. “No one will ever have you. No one but me. That is my vow to you. My promise. And that promise will always be steeped in blood and destruction. Maybe even war. I would start a dozen if it meant keeping you.”

My pulse is thrumming hard beneath his grip. Even though we’re surrounded by death and several other vampires, I’m feeling a carnal response to his authority in the space between my legs.

He notices right away, nostrils flaring, pulling in my heated scent.

“Dear brother,” Bran says, his eyes still on me, searching me.

“Yes?” Damien replies.

“Can you handle the rest of this mess?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Bran grabs me by the hand and yanks me away.

We find Bran’s Audi parked at the side of the road waiting. He says nothing. Just coaxes me inside, clips me into the seat belt, and then climbs in behind the wheel.

His speed is death-defying, and I hold on, white-knuckled, to the door handle as he guides the nimble sports car through Midnight Harbor. But he doesn’t return to Duval House. He takes me, instead, to his old house, the one right next door to mine.

It wasn’t that long ago that I was standing on his front porch, debating knocking on his door. But it feels like another life, another girl.

The porch light is on, casting a soft glow over the railings as Bran pulls me up the stairs. He kicks the door in with his boot, then slams it shut behind us once we’re inside.

“Bran, do you—” I start, but he has no patience for my words. He slams me against the door and kisses me.

His mouth is frenzied, angry and terrified.

I am his and he will do whatever he must to keep me, but everything is threatening us right now. Everything, at every turn.

His tongue meets mine as his hand holds my face to him.

I can smell the blood clinging to us, the crispness of night, and the leftover muskiness of the fae realm.

“I missed you, Mouse,” he says when he pulls back enough to let me take a heavy breath.

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“Any time is too long.”

There is a light on in the kitchen, just beneath the stove hood. It’s enough to see Bran, the outline of his body, the desire on his face, the wetness of his lips.

“You will not be his,” he says, his voice haunted and raspy.

“I know.”

“Never. In any world. In any scenario.”

“I know, Bran.” I take his hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing the ridge of his knuckle. “It was just to buy us time to get us back here so we can do the unbinding.”

His other hand comes up taking a chunk of my hair. He puts just enough pressure on his grip to prove to me who is in command.

“Over to the couch, Mouse.”

I dutifully follow the order and he keeps his hand in my hair, pushing me down so my belly is resting on the arm of the couch.

The cushions sink beneath me as he lines up behind me. We’re still fully dressed, but I can feel the thick ridge of him through his pants pressing against my ass.

He yanks on my hair, forcing my spine to S-curve, my head to come back. His voice is a tantalizing whisper at the shell of my ear.

My pussy is throbbing now, primed for his touch. But he’s not ready to give in yet.

“I will not share you either,” he warns.

“I know.”

“No other man, human, vampire, or fae, is allowed to touch what’s mine.”

His fingertips press hard against my right hip, and I wiggle my ass against him, causing him to growl.

“But I’m not above showing you what it’d be like.”

“What?” I gasp out and try to look at him over my shoulder. But he puts pressure on my head again, forcing me down, my ass in the air.

“Don’t move,” he warns.

I sense the air shift as he darts away. I can’t tell which direction. I stay firmly in place, following his rules, because I want whatever wild punishment he’s come up with. I want to get lost in him for just a few minutes longer. He’s always been the best distraction for when my life gets shitty and complicated and scary.

A door shuts and locks a second later and when I dare to peek at Bran, rimmed in the soft, diffused light of the kitchen, I find him holding one of my toys — a giant, hot pink dildo.