Bound to Night (2 page)

“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.”

“No, I’m not.”

He frowned, and then breathed in again, filling his nostrils with the musky scent of wolf. He raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “They say I’m a werewolf, but I’ve never changed. I think they made a mistake.”

She sounded so hopeful that he hated to disillusion her. But there was no mistake. She was just uninitiated. Shit. There went half his fun. “You’re a wolf,” he said. “You’ve just never shifted.” But perhaps she wanted to change. Maybe he could help her there. “Do you want to?”

“Are you crazy? My inability to turn doggy for them is the one thing that keeps me going in here.” She cast him a narrow eyed look. “You say I’m a wolf like you know what you’re talking about. Do you know why I don’t change?”

“Does it matter? If you don’t want to, it’s best you don’t know.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, then clamped her lips closed and nodded. She glanced away, then back again. “Are you sure? That I’m a wolf, I mean?”

He nodded. “You must have been attacked.”

“Eight years ago. Afterward, I woke up here.” She wrapped her arms around her middle. “They’ve been trying to make me shift ever since.”

Jesus, she’d only been thirteen. He wondered if Sebastian was aware there was a werewolf going around attacking children on his turf. “Trying how?” he asked.

“Different things. But nothing works.” She glanced away. “They’re not very pleased with me.”

Obviously, they didn’t know what was needed. Thank God. Jack made a vow then that he wouldn’t reveal it, even to her. “So you’re also a telepath?”

“I suppose.”

Clearly, something else she wasn’t happy to talk about. “What’s your name?”

“Tasha.”

“I’m Jack. Come here, Tasha.”

She glanced from him to the camera high on the wall.

“It’s broken,” he said. Something else he’d convinced them was down to his vampiric powers—he didn’t like to be watched.

Her gaze flicked back to him, and he allowed his hunger to show. Her eyes widened, but she took the final step toward him. He slid his hands down her arms, then scooped her up and crossed to the small cot. Sinking down with her in his lap, he silently cursed his erection, which refused to subside despite the fact that sex was now off the menu.

For a few seconds, she was rigid in his arms, every muscle tense.

Jack stroked her hair and she sighed, the stiffness seeping from her. Then as if giving in, she settled against him without comment, like a cat happy to be there, almost snuggling. He reckoned she hadn’t been held much in her short life, and a fierce anger rose in him at the people who had kept here, shown her no kindness.

Her lashes flicked open and she stared up at him with those strange golden eyes. “Are you sure it won’t hurt? You weren’t lying? You know—lulling me into a false sense of security?”

“It won’t hurt. You might even enjoy it.”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “Okay. Go ahead then.” And she raised her chin, baring the long line of her throat.

He shifted her slightly so he could reach, then lapped at the pulse with his tongue. A shiver ran through her. Then he bit down. She went instantly still but didn’t fight, and he relaxed and savored the sensation as the warm, sweet blood filled his mouth, and he tasted the magic in her.

Her body went soft and pliant in his arms. He glanced down. Her fists were clenched at her side, but her nipples were hard little points clearly visible and her hips lifted slightly as if straining toward him.

“Holy crap,” she murmured. “You weren’t lying.”

Chapter Two

“Get your paws off me, pervert.”

Johnson let go of her as though she were something nasty and wiped his hands down the sides of his pants.

“You know, Johnson, if I was the sensitive sort, I’d think you didn’t like me.”

Johnson ignored the comment. All the guards hated her but especially Johnson. When Tasha had first arrived—before the shielding technology had been developed—she’d been able to read all their minds. And Johnson’s was a cesspit. But obviously, he didn’t want the rest of the world to know that, so he’d been just a little bit peeved when she’d shared a few of his more bizarre personal fantasies with the rest of the guards.

He was sick, but at least after that,
she
hadn’t been part of his fantasies. Not his sexual ones anyway. Though there had been a few things he’d thought about doing to her.

She shuddered. She was glad she could no longer read their minds.

Johnson turned to go, but paused at the door. “Did it hurt?” His voice took on a gloating quality.

For a moment, she didn’t know what he was referring to. Then she realized he meant the vampire. Her hand went to her throat where she could still feel the wound, though it was closing unnaturally fast.

God, but it had felt good.

Who would have believed it? Weird or what? She reckoned she must be one sad, repressed woman. And was it any wonder? She’d hardly led a normal life.

Johnson was still loitering, waiting for his answer. Probably looking for some details to add to his lurid torture fantasies.

Best not let him see she’d actually enjoyed being bitten by the vampire or he’d make sure she never went near Jack again. “What do you think?” she snarled. “Of course it hurt.”

Well, at least that made Johnson happy.

“Maybe one day soon, they’ll finally recognize what a waste of space you are and they’ll let that monster suck you dry.”

Charming.
She supposed it wasn’t bad for a parting comment, and she didn’t bother trying to come up with a clever answer. She just wanted him gone.

Once he’d left, slamming the cell door behind him, Tasha collapsed on her narrow bed. She stared up at what had been her home for the last eight years.

Ten feet by ten feet.

Bare white walls.

The room was empty but for the cot and a single shelf with her meager pile of books. She only had those because a few years back she’d faked a couple of suicide attempts. They’d taken her to see a shrink and she’d persuaded the woman that she needed some mental stimulation or she would go seriously insane.

In truth, she hadn’t wanted to die then. She still didn’t. Most of the time. Occasionally, despair and loneliness would threaten to swamp her. Or they’d think of some new and generally unpleasant way to try and make her shift. But usually she managed to stay optimistic.

One day she would get out of here and go home. She had to believe it.

And now, at least she had something to look forward to.

Jack.

With his long, lithe body, pale skin, and silky black hair, Jack was, without doubt, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She hugged her knees to her chest at the memory of the pleasure.

He’d told her it wouldn’t hurt, and she’d been so shocked she’d given in without a fight. No one had ever said something wouldn’t hurt before. And besides, he was so beautiful, she wasn’t sure she could have denied him anything. Like some besotted teenager.

But he’d been right. There had been no pain, just a rhythmic tugging, that had pulled at unknown places deep within her body. His mouth at her throat had woken all sorts of sensations; she could still feel the pulse throbbing between her thighs.

But more than that; it had felt so good just to be held.

Yup. It was official. She was one sad case.

The cell door was in front of them. If she was going to make a move, it had to be now. Tasha cast a quick sideways glance Johnson. He was a foot taller than her and more than twice her weight.

Still, she took a deep breath, twisted out of his grasp, and launched herself at his throat. Moments later, she hung limp from one huge, meaty hand.

“Goddamn freak,” Johnson snarled.

Tasha could see the loathing in his eyes as he raised his fist and punched her in the face. Lightning exploded in her brain, and her mouth flooded with the warm, coppery taste of blood. Wincing at the sharp stab of pain, she swallowed and licked her lip. Time to change tactics.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t put me in there. Not with him. Not again.”

He smirked as he unlocked the cell door. Tasha started to struggle, was still struggling as he thrust her into the dimly lit cell. She fell to her knees just inside the door.

“Dinner is served,” Johnson announced. His sadistic laughter echoed in her ears as the lock clicked shut behind her.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the dark power saturating the room. After a moment, she opened them and peered into the darkness. A pair of emerald eyes glowed in the shadows.

“Is he gone?” she murmured.

“Yes,” a soft voice answered, and the hairs rose on the back of her neck. She’d known Jack for over a month now, and he still had the same overwhelming effect on her.

She scrambled to her feet, rubbing her arm where Johnson’s thick fingers had bitten into the flesh. Then she grinned. “I was good, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little over the top.”

“Come on, Jack,” she said as his tall figure materialized out of the shadows. “I have to be convincing. You know Johnson would never bring me here if he actually thought I wanted to come. He hates me.”

Jack stared down at her, then reached out and stroked the blood from her lip with the pad of his thumb. Tasha’s whole body quivered at the touch and she stared mesmerized as he raised it to his mouth and slowly licked it clean.

“Would you like me to kill him for you?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I would. And, if possible, very, very, slowly.” Then she sighed. “The problem is, Jack, you’re as much a prisoner here as I am, so excuse me if I don’t hold my breath.”

He shrugged. “Then maybe, for the moment, you should try not to wind him up quite so much.”

“You’re right,” Tasha agreed, “I know you’re right. Unfortunately, winding up Johnson is just about the only fun I get to have in this place. Still, I should have been a bit more careful today.”

“What’s different about today?”

“There’s a full moon tomorrow night.” Tasha shivered. “They always try extra hard when there’s a full moon.”

He studied her for a moment. “Have you thought that things might be easier for you if you turned?”

“No, I haven’t. And you’re forgetting one important thing—I can’t turn. I don’t do this to annoy Johnson—that’s just a happy side effect. The fact is I don’t know how to turn. Most of the time, I’m not even convinced I am a werewolf.”

He shook his head. “You are,” he said. “I can taste it in your blood. Besides, even before the attack you were far from normal.”

“Yeah, well, a girl can dream.” She peered at him through her lashes. “You
do
know why I can’t turn, don’t you? I know you do.”

“Why would you think that?”