Bound to Fear (3 page)

She was presumably his dinner. Or not. He
had few rules, but not feeding from children was one of them. Then
she turned back to face him. Her intense golden gaze locked with
his, and he realized she was no child.

He could see why he’d been mistaken. She was
short, maybe just a whisper over five feet, and slender—too
slender. Her dark red hair fell in ripples to her waist, and her
small, pointed face was pale as though she rarely saw the sun. She
was dressed in grey sweat pants and a white vest top. Her small
breasts pressed against the cotton, and he felt an unexpected stab
of lust.

She’d controlled her initial fear and now
was returning his inspection with obvious curiosity.

“So, can you read him?” Latham asked.

“I’m trying,” she snapped. “Keep your pants
on.”

She took a wary step closer. Jack breathed
in and caught a wild feral scent, like the forest at full moon.

Wolf?

And what did they mean, “read” him?

Then he felt it, faint tendrils of power,
probing at his mind, seeking a way in. He slammed down his
defensive walls and saw her eyes widen.

“Ow,” she said.

“Well?” Latham prompted.

“No, I can’t.”

“You mean he’s shielded? Like us?”

She studied Jack for a moment, her head
cocked to one side. He felt the tentative probing again, but his
mind was safely locked away behind his walls. At least he knew now
why the guards were shielded. She was a telepath, and the most
powerful one he had ever come across. And a wolf? How had she ended
up at The Facility? The pack usually looked after their own.

“No,” she replied. “Not like you. Different.
You feel unnatural, an aberration.” There was a distinct sneer in
her voice and he got the impression she wanted them to hear it. She
was baiting them—probably unwise if she was a prisoner. “He feels
natural. Right. But there’s a big wall I can’t get through.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Latham said. “Yet
again you manage to disappoint.” He glanced from her to Jack and
back to her. “Well, perhaps we can find one thing you’re useful
for.” He turned to leave the room, followed by the guard, but
paused at the doorway and spoke directly to Jack. “She’s yours.
Just don’t finish her off. She may yet prove of some use.”

“Bastard,” she muttered as the door closed
behind them. Then she turned slowly to stare at him. Her lower lip
caught between her teeth, he suspected to keep it from quivering.
Otherwise, there were no outward signs of fear, and he was
impressed. Because she was afraid, he could scent her fear in the
air.

“How old are you?” he asked. Just in
case.

Her brows drew together, but she shrugged
and answered. “Twenty-one.”

Good
.

He didn’t need to feed, but that didn’t mean
he wouldn’t enjoy it. She looked and smelled…intriguing. Vampires
loved werewolf blood; it was the sweetest. His gums ached at the
thought, and his cock twitched in his pants. Maybe the night was
improving.

“You know what I am?” he asked.

“Johnson took great pleasure in telling me
he was feeding me to the resident vampire. I’m guessing that must
be you.”

She was very calm, too calm. Was she in some
sort of shock? “Do you mind?” he asked.

An expression of disgust flashed across her
features. “Since when does it matter what I mind? Never—that’s
when!”

Shoving her hands in her back pockets, she
took a step closer. Jack sat very still, not wanting to scare her
further as she came to a halt about a foot away. She didn’t have to
look down very far to meet his gaze.

“So will it hurt? You know the whole”—she
bared her teeth in a grimace—“biting thing?”

Shock ran through him at her words. She was
so direct and matter-of-fact. What had made her like that so young?
“How long have you been here?”

“Eight years.” She pursed her lips. “Are you
avoiding the question?”

“No.”

“No? You mean ‘no’ you’re not avoiding the
question, or ‘no’ it won’t hurt?”

“Both.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” She took a deep
breath, closed her eyes, and waited.

Jack could see the pulse beating rapidly
under the fragile skin of her throat, the tracery of blue veins so
close to the surface. His hunger rose. He reined it in, not wanting
to frighten her, and savoring the anticipation. He’d never come
across anyone like her and he’d been around a long time and met a
whole load of people.

Finally, her lids flicked open and she
glared at him. “Well?”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Are you
in a hurry? Perhaps you have other plans for the evening?”

“Funny man, aren’t you.” She scowled. “I
could say the anticipation is killing me, but that wouldn’t be
quite correct. Just get it over with, will you?”

Jack chuckled, and her scowl deepened.

“Are you frightened?” he asked

She stared him in the eye. “Yeah, I’m
frightened. But so what? I’m used to it—I’ve had a lot of
practice.”

Suddenly he felt guilty for teasing her. He
rose to his feet and she took a step back.

“Wow, you’re…big.”

He stepped around her, rested his hands on
her shoulders and felt her tremble beneath his touch. From here, he
could look down and see the thrust of her breasts beneath the thin
cotton. His balls ached and he realized with some surprise that he
wanted her, and not just because she was here and convenient. He
rubbed her shoulders gently, trying to ease her tension, but she
stiffened.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I can make you forget
your fears.”

She snorted. “Want to bet on that?”

“I like a challenge.”

Looping his fingers in her hair, he lifted
the heavy strands to expose her slender throat. He lowered his head
into the curve of her neck and breathed in, loving the feral scent
of her. This time he didn’t fight the hunger building inside
him.

He kissed her throat, her pulse point, then
the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. A small moan
escaped her lips, and it wasn’t a moan of fear. He could have her;
he knew it in that moment. With a little care, she would fall into
his arms. He grew hard at the thought.

“Did you know vampires find werewolf blood
irresistible?” he whispered in her ear.

Her muscles locked, and
then she pulled free of his grasp and whirled around to face him.
“I am
not
a
werewolf.” She enunciated each word clearly.

He studied her closely. He wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, you are.”

Nina Croft grew up in the north of England.
After training as an accountant, she spent four years working as a
volunteer in Zambia, which left her with a love of the sun and a
dislike of 9-5 work. She then spent a number of years mixing travel
(whenever possible) with work (whenever necessary) but has now
settled down to a life of writing and picking almonds on a remote
farm in the mountains of southern Spain. Nina’s writing mixes
romance with elements of the paranormal and science fiction.

http://www.ninacroft.com