Bond Betrayed (4 page)

Nikki brushed off the other man’s attention, though, and stayed focused on Isaac. It was a look that flayed him to the core. “I’m fine.”

But her voice was rough and her eyes were red like she’d been crying. The thought sent a wave of pain through him like a punch to his chest.

“She’ll be happy to see that herself. We’re here to take you home,” Jacob said, his voice ringing with authority.

“You will not leave this house without my permission, Nicola.” Isaac made sure his direct command left no room for interpretation.

Jacob, human as he was, had no idea what he was stepping into, though. “Look, I don’t know what you think—”

Gus’ hand on Jacob’s arm stopped the man’s speech. “She’s bound. If he says she stays then she can’t leave.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Isaac’s smile was forced and cold. “She’s here voluntarily. Tell them you don’t want to leave.”

She was going to kill him. The glare she leveled at him was a promise of that. It’d be slow and painful. “I don’t want to leave.” He wasn’t surprised that the words were forced through her clenched jaw. He could make her say them, but he couldn’t make her mean them. He was surprised, however, by what she did next. Instead of scurrying away from him, she took the two steps that separated them and wrapped an arm suggestively around his waist. “The fun’s just starting, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

This development couldn’t be good. Still, if it would help get the other men out of his house…

“See.” His voice was steady despite his inner turmoil. “Now, I’m sure you two can find your own way out before I call the authorities.”

Gus looked at Nikki as he held a finger up to Isaac, requesting silence. “Should we leave?”

Damn if she didn’t purr as she rose to her tiptoes in order to run her tongue down the side of Isaac’s throat. There was no stopping his reaction to her. Even trying to fight it was useless. His body still remembered her magic—still craved it, and it relished the attention she was lavishing on him, regardless of motivation. He groaned deep in his throat and, needing her closer, he pulled her against him as his cock hardened. God, she felt so good. Pure hell wrapped in a delicious slice of heaven.

She leaned away from him, but even the inch was too much space between them. He had to have her next to him. “Yes.” Her smile was evil as she turned her attention to her uncle. “I think I’ve got things under control here.”

Gus nodded slowly but then turned to him again. “Tell her she can call us if she needs anything.”

Was that all it would take to get them to leave? “You can call them anytime you wish.”

She took a step away from him and it was all he could do to let her go. His hands shook with the need to reach out to her and he longed for the smell of clove and cinnamon that clung to her hair. “What a gentleman you are.”

“I honestly want to make this as easy on you as possible.”

She laughed harshly. “You’ll have to forgive my cynicism.”

Jacob was watching their conversation carefully, judging each word. “I don’t like this, Nic. If you want me to stay, just say the word.”

“No. You should go. Tell Izzy I’m fine.” Then her attention went to Gus. “I can take care of myself.”

He could certainly attest to that. What had she done to him? She shouldn’t have been able to use her magic against him. That was one of the many benefits to having someone bound. “I won’t let anything hurt her, I promise.” His voice was raw, wild, but the promise was for him. He didn’t really care if they believed him.

The two men looked at her uncomfortably but didn’t say anything. “You should go now,” Nikki continued. “He’s not going to tell me why I’m his guest in front of you.”

They were reluctant, but they did finally leave. Not that that made things better for Isaac. Now he was alone with a nearly naked seductress who wanted him dead. And damn if he still didn’t want to rip that shirt off and fuck her against the wall.

Chapter Three

Fury burned in the pit of her stomach. And she welcomed it. Its heat dulled the sharp hunger that’d been buried deep in her core since she’d woken up. How could she still want him? He’d specifically put her into a vulnerable state just to betray her. That wasn’t the kind of guy a girl wastes fantasies over.

And yet, she was.

It only pissed her off more. But if she had to be pissed off and sexually frustrated, the least she could do was share the misery. And if the look on his face was anything to go by, she was succeeding marvelously.

“What’s happened to me?” he asked as soon as the door closed.

She probably should feel some guilt at the sound of confusion mixed with pain in his voice. Should, but didn’t. “You drank seductress blood,” she answered simply. “How does it feel?” Stepping close to him once more, she ran the tip of one finger down the front of his chest. “Is it a roaring fire burning what little is left of your soul to ash, or is it an icy dullness reminding you that you’ll never be whole if I’m not there?” For her, it was ice. She needed the warmth of his body on her, against her, in her so badly she hurt with it.

“Fire. God, how do I make it stop?” Turning his back to the wall, he leaned against its strength as if his whole world had just been shaken.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve had the stuff running through my veins longer than I can remember.”

“But you shouldn’t be able to use your magic against me. The bond—”

“This has nothing to do with the bond and I’m not using my magic against you.” Needing the space as much as he did, she took a step away from him. He reached out to her but quickly caught himself, snatching his hand back to his side. “You drank my blood. I’m a seductress, what did you think my magic would feel like? Rainbows, unicorns and fairy dust?”

He slid down the wall and then wiped a hand over his face. “What now?”

She took a deep breath and counted to ten before opening her mouth. He wasn’t the only one struggling to control his emotions. “Its hold will lessen—with time and space. It would help if we talked about something else.”

“Distraction. That’s a good idea. Know much about football, baseball, middle-aged college coaches who are losing their hair and have a beer gut that enters rooms before they do?”

She laughed at the image. He may very well be an ass, but at least he had a sense of humor.

She rolled her eyes at the thought. He was not a likeable person, not while he held her against her will, and she refused to see him as one. “You could tell me what this is all about. Something tells me it’s a mood-killer.” She braced a hand on her hip as she stood waiting for an answer.

“Okay.” He looked up at her then shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “Do you remember Molly Marrow?” The name was familiar. “You used to play at her house—when you were young.” He was staring at her intently. This was important. He expected her to remember. “She had brown hair, brown eyes, was shy.”

Suddenly the memory slammed into place. “She loved to have tea parties and her dolls always had new dresses.” They had been friends. But it’d been Molly’s mom that’d… “No.” She was ashamed at how weak the word sounded, like a whispered plea. She wasn’t weak. Looking him in the eye, she forced strength back into her voice. “You don’t enslave someone over a friendship they had two decades ago.”

He smirked cynically. “Friendship?”

“Yes. Friendship.”

“Good. Then knowing your father has her should motivate you to help.”

Her father had Molly? Little, sweet Molly? Why? Nikki hadn’t been lying, or even exaggerating, when she’d said Molly had been her friend. They’d been best friends a lifetime ago. Nikki had actually sworn she’d protect the weaker girl back when they were young. She’d still do anything she could to help Molly. But her father couldn’t possibly know that, which meant he couldn’t be holding Molly in the hopes of getting Nikki. And Nikki couldn’t imagine Molly’s magic being anything her father would need badly enough to risk pissing off the all-powerful Marrow family. Molly was cool. She was a good person. But the rest of the family was power-obsessed and ruthless. Even as strong as her father was, the Marrows would prove a challenge.

“My father may be evil.” She raised a hand to stop Isaac as he opened his mouth to say something. “Okay, so maybe he’s worse than evil. Evil would probably look all cute and fluffy standing next to him. But he’s not an idiot. Taking a Marrow would be bad for business. Why would he—” Her question stopped suddenly when the lights went out and blackness crashed around them. The panic she’d been ignoring since she’d awoken in a strange bed resurfaced in full force and cooled both the anger and hunger eating at her control. “I take it your electric bill is paid up?” She hoped her voice was steady. She was strong, a survivor. She could deal with anything.

“Yep.”

“Who knows I’m here?”

“Besides my mom, your agent brother-in-law and Gus? I’m not sure, but I’m betting they work for your father.” It was a solid bet. Her father had always wanted Nikki under his influence. Like that was ever going to happen. Glass shattered somewhere behind her but Isaac had already grabbed her by the wrist and was pulling her down the hall away from the sound. “We’ve got to get you someplace safe.”

Her wrist was incredibly small when encased in his huge hand. And she had to fight to hide her reaction to the calluses on his palms as he pulled her down the hallway and up the stairs. But the rough slide of his skin on hers was giving her goose bumps and making it hard for her not to remember how his hands felt on her body.

Dear god! Why had he placed the bond before they’d had sex? If he’d only waited until after, he wouldn’t be affecting her right now. She could concentrate on getting them the fuck out of this mess.

Not that he was exactly asking for her insight. He didn’t stop for anything, didn’t even slow, until he’d pulled her up the flight of stairs and thrown open a door. Shoving her inside, he paused. “You can hide in here. I’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

Facing whatever it was out there had to be easier than waiting for it to come get her. She wasn’t helpless. Sex wasn’t the only thing she was good at. She knew how to fight. And she’d watched her fair share of horror movies. They would have better odds if they fought together instead of allowing the monsters to pick them off one at a time. “I could help you.”

He swore under his breath. “You will. But not with this.”

“But—”

“No,” he said decisively. “Not with this. I know you’ve got no reason to trust me, but I meant it when I promised I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.” The bittersweet smile he wore held so much pain it made her heart ache. “Try to be good. I’ll be back when I can.” With that, he was gone. The door clicked so softly behind him, she didn’t even hear it close.

Be good? She smirked as she made her way to the door.

Good girls helped those in need, right?

If not, they would certainly help themselves. She may be pissed at her captor, but that was easily trumped by the lifelong hatred she held for her father. She would do anything to see him fail, especially when winning would mean getting his hands on her.

Pressing her ear to the hard wooden surface, she listened as she counted to sixty. If she didn’t give him a good head start, she was fairly certain she would end up tied to the headboard. And not in a good way.

When she was certain he was far enough ahead to make restraining her impossible—or at the very least improbable—she quietly crept out of the room. Thankfully her eyes had had time to adjust to the darkness of the house. Following the hall, she had just started down the stairs when the sounds of the struggle reached her.

It was crazy, charging into a fight to protect the man who’d betrayed her. But, if what he said was the truth, she did want to help Molly. No one deserved to be at her father’s mercy. And it wasn’t like the man who’d bound her was a threat. She was fairly certain he was going to be easy to manipulate.

Hell, even the bond was a bit of a blessing under the current circumstances. Her father couldn’t place a blood bond on her, but he could have a lackey do it. He would too. It was the only way he’d ever be able to bend her to his will. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility until she’d come to, alone in the bedroom, unsure of what’d happened.

She shuddered at the memory. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken her long to realize, if her father had anything to do with the bond she’d have already been turned over to him. And since she could only be bound to one person at a time, her captor had unwittingly spared her from that particular fate. She wasn’t about to thank her captor, but she was smart enough to realize keeping him alive was mutually beneficial. For now, at least.

With that in mind, she started down the hallway to the right. Glancing through an open doorway, she made out two shadowy figures struggling in what appeared to be a sunroom. Even now the moon shone brightly through a wall of windows and illuminated the many potted plants—some of which seemed scattered among the motionless bodies of three people. But she only had a moment to take in the room’s layout before her attention was drawn back to the struggle. One of the shadows had an arm around the other’s throat in a painful-looking chokehold.

“Did you think he wouldn’t come for her?” Not recognizing the voice, she assumed it was her captor caught in the chokehold. He was pulling on the assailant’s arm, but couldn’t breathe let alone answer. “And now you’ve got nothing to trade for dear Molly.”

Was that his plan? It was a possibility. One she hadn’t thought of. But it didn’t seem to ring true. If he wanted to trade her, she’d be sitting in a dark holding cell somewhere. Wouldn’t she? Besides, he was an enforcer. And he was smart enough to still be breathing, which was somewhat of a rarity if she remembered correctly. He wouldn’t trust her father enough to arrange a trade. It was reassuring that he’d been telling her the truth about her father having Molly, though. Hearing those words gave her the courage to continue.

She crept up behind the men quietly, carefully stepping around the clay pots. When she was close enough to hear the grunts of the struggle, she picked up one of the discarded pots and dumped out its contents. She was armed now—in a fashion.

“Tell me where Nikki’s hiding and I’ll let you live. Maybe.”

Her captor thrashed in the hold but didn’t say anything.

“Sucks not being able to use magic, doesn’t it?” the man taunted.

She didn’t wait to hear if her captor found a way to answer that question. The pot came down over the assailant’s head in a deafening crash. He swayed and staggered but, much to her horror, didn’t fall. He did, however, release his hold on her captor.

“There she is,” he sneered. “Your timing is perfect, my dear.”

What the hell? Did he have a steel plate in his head?

Her captor was busy gasping for air and coughing. He wasn’t going to be any help. This was all up to her. She widened her stance and readied herself for his first blow.

“Pyro.” Her captor’s croaked warning gave her just enough time to drop into a crouch as an arc of fire raced through the air.

Huh… He’d been of use after all.

A quick change in strategy had her stepping closer to the assailant. He was just as flammable and wouldn’t risk a fire if he were in the burn radius.

“What’s the matter, afraid of being singed?” the pyro asked in a mocking voice.

She noticed the lack of fire as he moved to strike her, though. Her gamble had paid off. “No more than you, I’m sure.”

“You could surrender. I might even let Isaac live if you’d be gracious enough to put on these Sim cuffs.”

She eyed the handcuffs that would block her abilities with a grimace. There were few things that could get her to put those on her wrists. And since he wasn’t in possession of any of them, she decided to decline his offer.

Balancing her weight squarely on her left leg, she struck out with her right. When her foot landed on his sternum, there was a sharp crack as he was thrown back. The Sim cuffs hit the floor with a solid thunk and both she and the attacker went after them. He was bigger and stronger, but her fear gave her an added advantage. She wanted them more than he did, and that made her quicker. She had to give some of the credit to Isaac, though. He’d pounced on the attacker at some point and currently had him pinned to the floor.

“Give me the cuffs.”

Her top lip rose into a snarl of anger at the command, but she still handed them to him. She couldn’t fight the order even if she’d wanted to.

“Sorry.”

She shrugged off the apology. “You’re welcome.”

Isaac clicked the cuffs around the man’s wrists before standing. “I thought you were going to be good?”

“And saving your sorry ass would be what, exactly?”

A glint of white told her he was smiling. “Guess that could be one definition. Can you watch him for a moment while I go check the circuit box?”

He must have taken her heavy sigh as consent because he left the room with only a deep chuckle for her to track him by.

“You realize he’s gonna trade you for someone else, don’t ya?” the man taunted.

Arguing with him wasn’t going to get her anywhere so she kept her silence.