Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (31 page)

She’d struck hard. He pulled a cool façade over the hurt. “Say whatever you like, but you took me as your mate and no matter how much you look down on me, I have the right to make demands on you. And I’m exercising that right. Even though I’m not well-bred, I’m still your mate.” His chest hurt. “I demand you stay away from the shelter.” He tried to swallow.

Anger and her feelings for him warred on her face, overshadowed by hurt. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t own me.”

“As long as I’m your mate, yes I do.”

“Fine. Now leave me alone. Go hang out with Ashton and Slade and do your macho shit together because, right now, I don’t want to be around you. And you can sleep in the living room today. Maybe you can go carve on yourself while you’re at it.” She turned her back on him and folded her arms across her chest.

Anger and hurt stirred his guts. “You heed my words. You’re mine and I’ll not have you putting your life at risk for strangers.”

“It’s okay for you, though.”

“That’s right.” He stalked to the door and slammed it behind him.

SARANNA PICKED up a little trinket he’d given her and hurled it across the room. The figurine crashed against the wall and shattered into fragments.

Why did he have to be so pigheaded? She wasn’t going to ignore someone in dire need when they had nowhere else to go. Pastor Cadell provided the only shelter in the city.

She wouldn’t stop. No way. Not even for Julian. And he should understand. Hadn’t he been in the position of desperately needing help himself?

He thought he owned her, like a piece of property. And in actuality, he did. It wasn’t fair. The moment she’d allowed him to mount her after the ceremony, she’d given him authority over her. It was the thing she’d feared all along. And as much as she loved him, it had made her reluctant to take him as her mate, bonded or not.

She should’ve known better, but she’d hoped he wouldn’t strong arm her with a mate’s rights. Males were all the same, love didn’t change basic biology. And he’d never said he loved her. Not once. He didn’t mind screwing the hell out of her, though.

She bit her lip. Despite her anger, she regretted some of the things she’d said to him. It was all true, but she shouldn’t have said it. She’d hurt him. “Damn you, Julian.”

She didn’t want to feel bad for him. She had every right to be angry and resentful. But she kept seeing the hurt in his eyes.

Maybe she should tell him she loved him. Maybe he didn’t know. No. He didn’t love her. Opening herself to that kind of hurt was stupid. She didn’t need him to spell out what she already knew.

She rubbed her temple. It didn’t matter who said what, because they had other issues to work out. She’d allowed the bonding ceremony to go forward because, as long as the bond existed, she hadn’t had a choice. She
needed
him. But she wasn’t a piece of property, and she wasn’t going to be treated like one. Especially when he hadn’t bonded in return.

She refused to explore that phenomenon. Males and females typically bonded together. That he hadn’t bonded wasn’t just an anomaly, it hurt to her core and fueled her determination to retain her independence. If she didn’t get her needs across right now, he would never stop trying to be the boss of the relationship. She already had a boss at Dangles. She didn’t need another.

She could play the power game as well as him. She wasn’t stopping and she wasn’t letting Julian between her legs either. At least, not until he gave in.

Chapter Thirty

RELIEF COURSED through Vali when Julian let himself in the apartment just before dawn. “What the hell did you do to piss Saranna off so bad?”

“Told her to stay away from the shelter.”

“Holy fuck. Why?” Vali shifted on the sofa.

“The traders are watching it.”

“Don’t blame you. She left blankets and a pillow for you.” He pointed to the recliner.

“Shit.”

“You have her best interest at heart. Stick to your guns. She’ll try to wear you down.”

“I’m not giving in.” He grabbed the blankets and arranged them on the floor, stripped off his damp clothes, and crawled under the covers.

“Julian?”

“What bro?”

“I think something’s wrong with me. I’m scared.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think … I’m losing my mind.” Vali twisted his blanket with trembling fingers.

“You’ve been through a lot. Give yourself time to heal.”

“No. You don’t understand. They did something to me at the Security Center. I’m not right. I … I want to do things.”

“Maybe you should talk to Jason. I mean … he would help you work it out. Or what about that counselor he wanted me to go to? Maybe she could help you.”

“Maybe. Maybe you’re right.” No way in hell was he telling Jason or some counselor about his deteriorating mind.

“I am. Trust me. Talk to Jason.”

“Yeah, sure. Don’t tell the others. They’d worry for nothing.” Vali pushed himself onto his side, facing away from Julian. He squeezed his eyes shut. Julian didn’t know the horrors that had made a home in his mind. Didn’t know panic seized him with no apparent trigger. And didn’t know that sometimes he wanted to do horrible, violent things … to the people he loved.

He didn’t want to lose his mind. He didn’t want to lose himself. If he went crazy, would they turn him away, send him back to the streets? Whoring himself was out of the question. Not that anyone except the most depraved would want a cripple. Dying would be better. Much better. Heat suffused his cheeks at the memories of the degradations he’d been subjected to.

And of course, following that wonderful memory come the nightmare scene of his father’s death. None of them knew the details. The truth. He wouldn’t talk about it, couldn’t. But it replayed in his sleep, three or four times a week, keeping it fresh and raw.

If he’d just ignored the girl. But her beauty had enthralled him. Human or not, he’d wanted her and she’d given herself. Both of them virgins. It had been hot, clumsy, messy, and fast. He’d bit her when he climaxed. She shrieked and her father, who had come home sometime while they were having sex, charged into her bedroom.

Now, he didn’t remember how he’d gotten out of the house. Her father had gone nuts. A lot of it was a blur. He’d grabbed his clothes off the floor and run. Her father chased him. More people joined in.

Lungs on fire, he’d made it home. And his father had interceded. He’d sent Vali out the back door and faced the men. And they’d killed him.

He had hid across the street, too scared to go hand himself over and save his father. They’d gotten his father down, sheer numbers overwhelming him, and cut his head off.

Vali had vomited and vomited until he thought he was going to die. He’d hoped he’d die. He deserved to die.

His father shouldn’t have been the one to be killed. He’d caused his father’s murder and he deserved every horrible thing that had happened to him since.

He deserved being a whore. He deserved the pain and degradation that went with it. He deserved the humiliation when he involuntarily climaxed despite his revulsion of allowing men to have sex with him. He deserved being captured and taken to the Security Center. And he deserved every bit of pain they’d inflicted on him and more. No matter how much he suffered, it wouldn’t pay his debt.

He’d been so close to death. If only they’d let him go… Because he didn’t have the courage to kill himself.

At least, not yet.

THE FOLLOWING night, Julian slipped out before Saranna awoke and made his way to his father’s apartment building. Apprehension gnawed a hole in his gut as he clung to the concealing shadows.

You’re fucking pathetic. He doesn’t want you. Accept it and go home
.

Wasn’t happening.

He desperately wanted to know his father. Even if it meant being shoved away, he had to try to make his father acknowledge the truth.

He swallowed hard. Maybe he should let it go. His father knew the truth. He didn’t want Julian in his life.

But before he made a decision, his father exited the building and strode down the street.

Julian slid away from the darkened crack between the apartment building and its neighbor and tailed his father. He hung back, not sure of what he was going to do.

His father walked fast, drawing Julian deeper into the city. He rounded a corner and stopped. His father had vanished.

Confused, he drew in a deep breath. His father’s scent filled the air. A slight scraping sound, like nails on brick, drew his attention upward.

His father dropped on him, taking them down in a pile of flailing limbs.

His father had been clinging to the wall above him and now Julian lay pinned under him. The older male hissed and he instinctively submitted, lying motionless.

He grabbed Julian’s arm and looked at the brands with disgust. “No son of mine would be dumb enough to be captured and marked.”

“You’re my father.” A lump lodged in his throat like a wad of tough steak.

He backhanded Julian, bloodying his nose and numbing his face. “Stop following me, you little whelp. I want nothing to do with you. Don’t you understand that?”

Blood slid down his throat. “You’re my father. Whether you like it or not. Whether you like me or not. Whether you want to be or not.”

He hit Julian again. “I am
not
your father. Leave me the hell alone.”

“Why? Why can’t you admit it?” He sniffed, trying to clear his clogged nose.

“I’m nothing to you and you’re nothing to me. Leave me alone. You don’t want to keep fucking with me.” He drew back his fist.

Julian didn’t flinch. Not that it mattered. His father had to hear his jackhammering heart.

Christopher lowered his hand. “Get the fuck away from me, whelp.” And in a blink, he was gone.

Julian gained his feet and stumbled down the sidewalk. He covered miles without going anywhere. Walked blocks without seeing the people and things he passed until he stood outside their apartment. What kind of reception would he get from Saranna?

Gritting his teeth, he entered the apartment.

She shot him a shriveling glare from her position on the sofa. The expression vanished. “What happened?”

He wiped at the dried blood on his face and shrugged. “Father wasn’t happy to see me.”

“Oh, Julian.” Her features softened. “I’m sorry.”

“He hates me.”

She stood. “Let me clean you up.”

He followed her into the bathroom and sat on the commode lid while she washed his face and hands.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” He sounded more like a child than an adult. He didn’t think he could stand it if she shoved him away, too.

“I am angry. I know you have rights over me, but… I didn’t think you’d pull the macho shit.”

“It’s not that. I’m afraid something will happen to you. I can’t lose you, Saranna. I don’t have anybody.” The time he’d spent alone on the streets had been the worst days of his life.

She slid into the space between his spread legs and drew him close. She held him against her like a mother comforting an injured child.

She stroked his hair. “I have to help, just like you do.”

“We’ll find another way, okay? I don’t want you taking people to the shelter, but we can work something out to get them there.”

“Okay, Julian, you win.” She touched a scar on his forearm.

He pulled his sleeve down.

“You know you can always talk to me… I mean, if you feel like you need to do
that
.”

Unable to meet her gaze, he said, “I can’t help it. Sometimes I have to do it. It’s all that helps.”

She touched his cheek and he forced himself to look at her.

“I understand. I do.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t. Because he didn’t understand the humiliating compulsion himself. He bowed his head and rested his forehead against her. “I’m sorry. I wish I was normal. You shouldn’t be stuck with a half-breed nutbag.”

“You aren’t those things. Please don’t think like that.”

But he
was
those things. His blood was diluted, making him less than them and no normal person would get relief from hurting himself. “I’m sorry.”

She bent and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his leg. He deepened the kiss.

“I have to help those in need.” She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his before he voiced a protest.

He wasn’t going to have it. But right now, he was going to have her. He stood and scooped her into his arms.

Chapter Thirty-one

THE FOLLOWING evening, Vali rubbed his aching, empty stomach as the others filed out to go to the firing range.

Though any of them would feed him, he was loath to ask. But the clawing hunger wasn’t to be ignored any longer, letting it get out of hand might not be a good idea.

He considered calling Rene, his longtime, feeding partner, and asking her to come to him again, but he nixed the idea. She’d already come to the apartment twice. The pity and sorrow in her pretty eyes was too much.

Self-loathing coursed through his veins like poison. He shoved his hair back from his eyes. He would go to Rene. After a quick call to make sure she was home, he grabbed the crutches, hoisted himself up, and hobbled to the door.

BY THE time Vali reached the halfway point, his arms ached where the crutches pushed into him with each step and he trembled with exhaustion.

He stopped. A tingling sensation crawled up the back of his neck and the hair lifted off his arms. A sense of
wrongness
enveloped him in a smothering cloud.

Eyes. Watching every step he took.

Vali slowly took in his surroundings, but nothing seemed amiss.

Panic sunk claws deep into his belly.

He lurched back down the sidewalk, his progress slow and clumsy. While he crept along, the feeling of being watched remained strong.

Arms shaking from strain and exhaustion, he stopped to rest a minute. He stood head down, panting.