Huh. Jett had placed a whammy of a spell on me.

  I made some indistinct mumbling sounds without actually parting my lips, and Gregor sighed.

  “You have a geas on you.”

  “A what?” I said bluntly.

  “A magical binding to prevent you from saying who desires you as their kindred. It is wise of them. Not many would tolerate a forced kindred joining.”

  “Well,” I hedged, “to be fair, he’d probably talk me into it with cleverly chosen words and a hell of a lot of guilt over something.”

  “You mean he’d manipulate you.”

  “Well, yeah, but don’t all vampires?”

  “Point. Still, you should not feel compelled to join with a vampire you do not trust.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, without committing to anything.

  “And I doubt you’d trust anyone.”

  “I trust Samson,” I said before I could say otherwise. I slammed my lips closed, and I didn’t need a geas to do it.

  “Then it is not Samson who has cornered you for a joining.”

  I sagged again and shook my head. Not that Gregor could see it.

  “What does it involve, Gregor?” I asked. He seemed to know a lot about kindred joinings and appeared quite protective of Nosferatin in general.

  As he’d just pointed out, though, I was a Nothus, not just a Nosferatin. So anything he said might be a lie.

  “I could really do with some guidance,” I muttered, trying to butter him up.

  He snorted. “Save it, Nothus. But in this, you are in luck. I am rather uncaring of those who force Nosferatin to join, and as we have established, part of you is Nosferatin, so I shall help you.”

  “Thanks?” I think.

  “You will owe me.”

  “Of course, I will.” I rolled my eyes again. “What do you want?”

  “A favour in the future of my choosing.”

  “Too vague. Narrow it down.”

  “The use of your talents should I have a supernatural I need hunted.”

  “OK, I could do that. How many times and when does this expire?”

  He laughed; a deeply sensual sound.

  “You have been playing with fairies,” he said.

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Yes. Not such a bad learning ground.”

  “Well?”

  “How about we say once and before you meet the final death.”

  “Oh, come on!”

  “Or a dozen times before the end of the year. Your pick.”

  “Bastard.”

  “She-devil.”

  I snorted. “OK, done. Now tell me. How do I avoid this and if I can’t what does it entail?”

  “Avoiding it is simple,” he said. “Do not share Light and blood with another vampire.”

  “That’s it?”

  “They would have to be compatible, but that’s it.”

  “And if I can’t avoid that?”

  “Then, ma démonesse, you shall be tied to each other for the rest of your undead lives. The vampire will double their power base, and you shall earn immortality. Unfortunately for you, that is not exactly a bonus, considering you are half vampire already. But what you shall gain is death should the vampire die. Symbiotic is the relationship. Should you meet the final death, they will meet the final death, and vice versa. There are other benefits, that may or may not develop with time, but are of little consequence in your case at present. And, I should add here in the interest of full disclosure, I cannot tell you if your situation would garner a different set of benefits or hazards. You are Nothus. Most foul. And therefore, none has considered a kindred joining with your kind before. Should I ever meet this vampire who thinks to do such a disturbing thing, I will take his head for the safety and sanity of all our kind.”

  “You done?” I said feeling numb.

  “I could go on, but I sense my words have hit their mark. Good luck, succubus. And Nut help us.”

  The line went dead.

  I slowly lowered the handset to the cradle and stared at nothing.

  And then I lifted my palm up and stared at it.

  No. No way. Nah-uh. Not happening.

  I grabbed my stakes, checked my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door, and left Sensations.

  It would be a cold day in hell before I went back and faced Jett.

  Of course, hell was Álfheimr, and it could get fucking freezing there.

  29

  Settled

  There were forces at work which I didn’t really understand but which made me do things I wasn’t entirely onboard with. Like, turning up at Samson’s house just before dawn, making it impossible for me to flash home again and see out the daylight hours in the safety and seclusion of my flat.

  This time, I didn’t even bother knocking. I simply used a splash of Sanguis Vitam to unlock the front door and walked inside as if I owned the place. I was antsy and nervous and absolutely pissed off that my body had brought me here and shorted out my brain.

  Samson took one look at me from where he was sitting, reading on a tablet computer over by the empty fireplace, and got up and poured me a drink. He didn’t say a word until I’d taken the life preserver he’d offered and downed most of it, finally coming up for air and smacking my lips like some inbred gunslinger about to participate in the bar fight of the century.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  The Dark Shadow sat up and preened, and then rolled over and exposed her belly.

  Tart.

  “Hey,” I offered in reply.

  “Is it over?”

  I stared at him. And for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that no, it wasn’t over. Isoleth would be madder than ever, and Odin probably wanted to wring my neck and Xavier was still locked up in Fólkvangr.

  So, I said, “The MPs retracted their statements.”

  I checked his Dark. It was all I could see. I wanted to break down and cry. But crying had never helped anything.

  “Yeah,” Samson agreed warily. He knew what I was doing. He waited for me to say something. To pass judgement.

  I threw myself into a nearby sofa and took another sip of my drink.

  “My dad’s been to my apartment,” I said, and he let out a breath of air he didn’t need. “God knows why. It’s not like he’s checked up on me once during the past four years. But I guess having your daughter’s mug up on the nightly news can make even the most absent parent participate in their child’s life. I can just imagine how that conversation would go if he did catch up with me. ‘Georgia!’” I lowered my voice to imitate my father’s. “‘What do you think you are doing? I didn’t raise my daughter to behave like this.’ ‘You didn’t raise me at all, Dad,’ I’d say. He’d shoot back with, ‘No Deverell has ever been a vampire. What will the board say?’” I stared at the bottom of my glass and said, “So, can I stay here for a while?”

  “Of course,” Samson offered and sat down beside me. “For as long as you need.”

  His hand reached over and long, strong fingers entwined with mine.

  “I’ve missed you,” he murmured.

  I turned my head and smiled.

  “I did think of you once or twice while I was in Álfheimr.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  We needed to. There was still so much unresolved. But the MPs had been dealt with; Mark’s case would be officially closed, even if he didn’t know exactly why they’d been taken and by whom. Mark was a clever boy, though, he’d know pursuing this would only lead to more supernatural trouble for him and the police. He wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t be able to manufacture enough silver bullets.

  And even though the threat of Isoleth’s wrath hung over my head, that wasn’t exactly new. She wouldn’t use the Valkyries again, Aliath had said so. Whatever she chose to throw at me next would take time to organise. How many warrior castes do the Fey actually have? I’d downed four of her monsters. She must realise by now that I was hard to kill. Isoleth was not a compulsive ruler. She was millennia old; she didn’t have knee-jerk reactions. She’d think about this logically and then throw every single thing she had in her arsenal at me in a well thought out and executed plan.

  I had time.

  I’d take my wins where I could and right now I was sitting on a couch in St Heliers Bay, Auckland with a vampire I had never really fallen out of love with.

  “No,” I said, studying his chocolate brown eyes and smooth cream skin. His hair hung loosely over his forehead, a blond strand flopping over one of those very perceptive eyes. He watched me back, his body poised, his muscles almost bunched, ready for action. He’d stopped breathing, but his nostrils flared as if he couldn’t help inhaling my scent one more time before he became fully vampire.

  His eyes changed to cinnamon and taupe and then a darker colour I associated with his vampire-within.

  “Hello, Black Dog,” I said.

  “Mate,” the Black Dog replied and then retreated, letting Samson take over again.

  “Gigi,” he murmured and reached up to cup my face.

  Samson could be a smooth operator sometimes. A charmer with that British accent of his. He kissed like his life depended on it, and he focused on the woman in his sights as if she held the answers to the universe. But this Samson right here, right now, was not the same man. He looked nervous. He looked worried.

  And I’d made him like that. For so long, I’d pushed and shoved and denied I felt anything. And now when faced with my capitulation, Samson wasn’t sure if I meant it.

  Samson Beauregard was a gentleman. He’d never take without being sure the gift was actually an offering. I had to take the bull - or the Black Dog - by the horns and make sure he knew I was offering.

  I reached up and removed my earrings. One Mickey. Two Mickey. They clinked as they fell on the side table. Samson watched me as if I were the most delectable prey he’d ever seen. His eyes sparked with hunger, the anxiety retreated.

  That was the key, I thought. He needed to hunt me.

  Aliath called me Hundr. Hound. Because I could hunt almost anything. It took a long time for me to accept that that was OK. That that was something I could use to help others.

  But right now the Hundr was going to hand her hunting title over to the man she loved.

  Only for Samson would I be prey.

  I lifted my t-shirt over my head, and he sucked in a breath of air when his eyes landed on the lacy bra underneath. Thank you, stalker-vampire. Jett had no idea he’d just made my mate’s day.

  Samson’s fingers twitched; his need to touch and taste a constant presence on his face, in the lines of his taut body. But he held himself in check because he knew the wait would make the chase that much sweeter.

  I released the bra clasp and let the garment fall to the floor beside me. Then I stood up and started on my jeans. Samson swallowed and leaned back in his seat; arms spread wide on the back of the sofa; legs falling open to allow a bit of breathing room for his erection. I glanced down and suppressed a snort at the impressive bulge I could see in his trousers.

  My jeans came down, taking my matching lacy underwear with them. I stepped out of my boots and let the last of my clothes pool on the wooden floor. When I stood up again, Samson’s eyes were shining cinnamon and gold, his fingers crushing the sofa cushions at his sides. He licked his lips and waited.

  His composure was astounding. I didn’t like it.

  I knelt down between his legs and reached for his fly. Samson groaned. The zip sounded loud in the early morning sleepiness that is the eastern suburbs. I released the button and pulled him out, stroking firmly, relishing the feel of soft skin over hard muscle. A bead of pre-come pearled on top of his cock, I leaned down, keeping my eyes on Samson’s, and licked it up like he was a popsicle.

  “Fuck,” he said, his voice guttural.

  I squeezed and twisted my hand, stroking him up and then followed my fingers down his long shaft with my mouth. A rhythm began; a humming in my ears accompanied it. And then Samson began to lift his hips and urge his cock deeper down my throat on each downward bob of my head.

  He didn’t remove his hands from the sofa. I found that kinda hot. My body responded with the need to fuck. I stroked him and licked him and sucked him until his hips were jerking and his cock was jerking, and he lost all semblance of that very English self-control. Just how I liked it. His climax was a beautiful thing, and I could have watched him do that for eternity.

  But I was hot and wet and wanting, and the Dark Shadow had had enough.

  Now, she said.

  Yes, I agreed.

  Run.

  I pushed up, using my hands on his thighs for leverage, then spun in Nosferatin speed, heading toward the stairwell and his bedroom on the first floor.

  I didn’t make it. The Black Dog was too fast. Way faster than I had thought he’d be.

  A snarl rendered the night air apart just as the shutters descended for dawn. I was trapped in more ways than one but this time I didn’t baulk at it.

  Samson’s arms wrapped around my body from behind, before I’d even made it into the hallway. He dragged me back into the lounge like a predator would drag his prey into his den once he’d caught it.

  “Damn, you’re fast,” I said breathlessly.

  “I have waited far too long for this,” he replied, kissing the side of my neck and then following it up with a scrape of his fully extended fangs.

  My body shivered. His hand cupped my breast, while the other gripped my hair and tugged my head back, exposing more of my neck.

  “Bite me,” I said, wanting nothing more than to feel him impale me in every possible way.

  “Not yet,” Samson murmured and then pushed my body forward until I was lying over the armrest of the couch, my face on the seat cushions and my butt in the air. If this wasn’t a submissive position, I didn’t know what would classify as one.

  All is well, the Dark Shadow soothed.

  And the fact that the Dark Shadow was soothing me made me realise I’d stiffened.

  “Easy,” Samson whispered, stroking my hair, my back, my arms.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in air and then let my body relax.

  “You are so beautiful,” Samson murmured, kissing down my spine and running a hand over one of my butt cheeks. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled, gently biting my shoulder and then licking the indentations he’d left there.

  He hadn’t broken skin yet, I realised. And I thought perhaps that was intentional. The more he teased, the more he gave me almost what I wanted, the more I wanted it and the more my body begged him for what it needed.

  He slipped his knee between my legs and parted them further, allowing better access for his hips. His chest pressed into my back as his hand returned to my hair, wrapping the strands around his wrist and holding me still. He hadn’t released my breast with his other hand yet; I knew that too had been intentional.

  And then he rocked his pelvis, placing his cock between my thighs, and stroked between my legs.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, because this is Samson, and he’d always ask first.

  Yes, the Dark Shadow said. There was no doubt in her mind about this.

  I searched my own mind. I searched for the doubt, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t there. But it wasn’t like it had been in the past. It wasn’t full of rage and anger and fear and betrayal. It was simply a low lying hum in the background, an uncertainty of what comes next.

  I could live with that, I decided. Because this was Samson and Samson, for all the blame I had laid at his feet, had never deserted me. Had never failed me. Had never stopped loving me.

  And I had never stopped loving him.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m sure.”

  He groaned and lowered his forehead to the place between my shoulder blades. His body shook with pent-up tension and an emotional relief that I could almost feel. I could scent nothing. This was, after all, Samson, and scenting his emotions had always been hard for me. But I knew him. And I didn’t need to inhale to confirm that he was honoured and grateful and so fucking happy.

  “I love you,” he said and sank his cock inside me.

  I made a low growling sound that I wished had been a repeat of his words to him, but Samson knew me too and didn’t complain. He brushed his lips over my shoulder and then bit, not overly hard, but hard enough to hold me in place as he pumped deeper and deeper still until his shaft was fully buried and my walls fluttered around him in anticipation of what was yet to come.

  He licked the bite mark, once we’d both caught our breath, and then he whispered in my ear, “I may not be able to control this.”

  I snorted. And bucked my hips.

  “Fuck me already,” I snapped.

  He laughed a low chuckle and said, “It’s called mating, Georgia. Get used to it.”

  And then he started to move and the room, the house, the world disappeared. His body moulded to mine and his cock plunged repeatedly. In and out and then in so deep, I felt him everywhere. And then a slow withdrawal, followed by a frantic advance, and the more he did it, the closer I came to release. To something more than a simple orgasm.

  “Yes,” I said when he slammed back in. “Harder,” I urged as he gripped me unforgivingly and held me still for his plundering.

  Samson took, and he gave, and he stole every future sexual encounter I would ever have because none could ever come close to this.

  My climax hit with the power to take out whole cities, my Light thrummed and burst apart around us. His Sanguis Vitam wrapped around me, and then he let go of my hair, slipped his wrist in front of my mouth, and bit down hard on my neck.

  I didn’t hesitate. My fangs lengthened, a growl emerged from the back of my throat, and then I was drinking ambrosia; Samson’s blood filling me up, giving me strength, making me come. And mine seemed to do the very same for him.

  He growled. I growled. The Dark Shadow rose up and growled with me. And then I saw him. I saw the Black Dog. I don’t know how. I couldn’t explain it. But he was there, and my Dark Shadow was there, and they stared at each other for what felt like a very long time but was possibly only seconds. He was huge. His eyes were all red, like the Dark Shadow’s eyes, like mine are when I go all vamp. He was frightening, but he didn’t frighten me. And then the dog approached. And my Dark Shadow snarled. Submission might have been the name of the game, but she’d never go quietly.