MIDNIGHT HUNT: Book 3 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (18 page)

“Did I?” His gazed up to his right, as if trying to recall his words. He chuckled. “I guess I did, but it was a slip of the tongue. I would hardly say that’s cause for alarm and such drastic measures.” He pointed his index finger forward to the barrier, where his fingertip sizzled. He jerked back and frowned. “That’s quite enough! Monika, give me the book.”

She shook her head. “For as many years as you have been a werewolf, locking yourself up as you say, the procedure should be routine. And yet you attacked the village last night, trying to create another test subject.”

Thomas’s jaw dropped. “I think that journal has you a little too entrenched in the past. Are you actually comparing me to Marcus? You speak as if I’m in control of my faculties when I’m a wolf. What kind of a monster do you think I am?”

“A desperate one…Marcus Sparenland.”

“You’re mad!” His eyes flashed yellow and he pounded his fist against the barrier. “You’ve lost your senses!” He slammed his shoulder into the
magickal
barricade, not once but several times, pounding and grunting, but unable to get to Monika or the book. He panted and stomped away from her, pacing the room and grumbling. Then he pointed an accusing finger at her. “You know there is another werewolf around here. You have been so desperate to get your hands on that book because you want the cure for your father! He’s alive because I’ve seen him. Perhaps you should ask him who he’s attacked lately.”

“I don’t have to.” She dropped her tearful gaze to his bleeding leg. “I already know it was you. And that scar on your ribs…given to you by my father the night you attacked him.” Her lips trembled and angry tears flowed down her face. “You infected so many of our friends, with no thought of their lives. They meant nothing to you! Were you stupid enough to think my parents wouldn’t figure out it was you? And when they held you accountable, you killed my mother and gave my father the curse. Why?”

Marcus glared at her, his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes glowing yellow.

“It doesn’t matter. You can burn in hell for all I care.” Monika fled to the hall and, when she reached the landing at the top of the stairs, she dared a glance to see how close he pursued. Marcus leapt after her and slammed into the barrier, which threw him backward, where he crashed into the table at the opposite end of the hall. A collective gasp hissed from the patrons below.

“That
magick
won’t protect you for long, Monika,” he snarled, as he picked himself up from the floor, grunting.

She scampered down the staircase, where the innkeeper narrowed his eyes at her from the bar. She pushed past the slack-jawed and stunned faces of the patrons and ran out onto High Street to escape any other attempts Marcus might make to pursue her.

Monika gripped her basket and the book and clipped down the street, trying not to give anyone reason to be suspicious, skirting the buildings and avoiding the main thoroughfare. When a firm hand seized her arm, she screamed and whirled to face Jason.

“I knew it!” He clutched both of her arms, towering over her and glaring. “That innkeeper is still bothering you, isn’t he? Why do you keep going back there?”

“Good God, Herr Kiefer! Will you let me go and stop chasing me?” She struggled to wrench free from his clutches.

“I’m concerned for you, Monika!”

“That’s enough! You and I are not courting.” She grunted as she twisted her arms, the book and her basket now on the ground. She glanced over his shoulder to see if Marcus was nearby, but her view was blocked by gawking passersby. She lowered her voice. “I thought I made myself very clear, you and I are not suited. I am in love with someone else, so please leave me alone!”

He tightened his grip and Monika cried out as he pushed her against a wall. “
What?
No! You can’t be in love with someone else. You’re not being fair! You haven’t given
us
a chance. I know you’ll love
me
once—”

She brought her knee up between his legs. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his groin.

“Stay away from me, or I’ll do a lot worse than kick you where it hurts!” She snatched her basket and book from the ground and sprinted out of Vollstadt before Jason could recover and go after her. Fear propelled her the majority of the path home. She glanced over her shoulder often, but thankfully no one followed. When at last she’d arrived at her cottage, she bolted the door and shutters and chanted to erect the barrier around the house. Reasonably protected, she collapsed into a chair and sobbed at the table.

Once she’d spent her frustration in tears, she made a pot of chamomile tea with trembling hands. She sweetened it with honey and indulged a few fingerfuls of the golden treasure. A couple of hours had passed before she could finally relax enough to prepare a shallow tub of lavender water and cleanse away the grim and anger of the day. As she sat in the water, wiping the cloth down her body, she gazed at the daylight fading between the cracks in the shutters. She wept, relieved that Broderick would be there soon.

Chapter Eleven

Broderick strolled from Vollstadt, down the road that led to Kostbar, his steps slow and sure. Squinting, Broderick strained to understand what lie ahead. A small crowd gathered, encircling what might have been a dog fight, based on the snarling and the barks. As he drew closer, however, screams mixed with the growls and grunts, and Broderick pushed through the crowd to find Thomas in werewolf form, tearing a woman apart and Davina screaming from the far side of the circle. A man ran forward and stabbed the werewolf in the side. The beast howled and turned on his attacker, biting him, then lunged for Davina.

Broderick cried out and, before his sword cleared his scabbard, the animal bounced off an invisible wall erected before Davina, then ran into the woods. Not moments later, the obsessive young man named Jason ran toward her, grabbing her by the arms and professing his undying love. Broderick stomped forward and reached out to grab the youth’s shoulder, but Davina kicked Jason in the groin and the man collapsed to his side, curling into a fetal position. One thing was for certain—this woman could take care of herself.

He shook his head at the pathetic Jason and sheathed his sword. When he looked up, Davina had vanished, along with the witnessing crowd. He dashed toward her cottage and burst through the door. There she sat, naked and in a shallow tub of water, weeping.

“Blossom,” he whispered and knelt beside her, caressing her cheek, wet with tears.

She smiled up at him. “You’re finally here.” Davina rose and, with delicate fingers, tugged at the buttons of his doublet. Her sapphire eyes glistened and crystal tears slid past her sad smile. They worked together to strip Broderick of his clothes. Davina stepped out of tub and into his arms, her naked flesh wet and searing his skin, her mouth seeking his. He smoothed his hands down her sides, brushing his thumbs against the globes of her breasts before traveling down to her waist. He cupped her bottom and lifted her. Davina wrapped her legs around his waist and he groaned when her hot, wet center pressed against his erection.

Monika pulled back from their embrace. “Make love to me, Broderick,” she pleaded.

Broderick sat up in bed, thankful the night had arrived. He would much rather make love to her in person than in his dreams. He jumped into his breeches, tugged on his boots and pulled his shirt over his head before dashing out the door.

Andrew tipped his hat. “Evenin’ Cap—”

“Evenin’, lads.” He hopped over the port side, turned to mumble the incantation over the ship and waved. “Stay aboard tonight.”

“Uh…aye, Cap’n.” His first mate waved, his brows raised.

Broderick dashed through Vollstadt at a mortal pace until he reached the empty road toward Kostbar, then picked up speed. Monika was too far from him for his taste and he couldn’t wait to wed her, where she’d be safe with him in their own home. In the meantime, he should move her to his ship.

He arrived at her cottage within minutes, where he rapped on the door, sensing the barrier around the house.
Good girl.

“Who is it?” she asked through the door.

“It’s me, Blossom.”

The bolt slammed and she swung the door open. The sadness and relief in her eyes nearly broke his heart.

Broderick recited the first part of the incantation—the request for the ward to come down. Her lips parted in surprise and she recited the response. Once the barrier dropped, he rushed into her arms, crushing her against him as he lifted her. She sobbed into his shoulder. Rick kicked the door closed and sat in a chair, cradling her in his lap. As he stroked her hair and rocked her, he noticed a large, wood-and-leather bound tome on the table…the book he’d seen in his dreams. On the cover, the tree of life—as the prophetess had called it—and the pentacle nestled within the roots.

Monika pulled back and wiped her face with the back of her hands.

“I see you have the book.” He brushed the tears still dangling off her chin.

She nodded. “I also learned that Thomas is actually Marcus Sparenland.”

“The man who caused the fire?”

She gave a half-shrug. “He bit my father to motivate my mother to find the cure. They found out he was turning people.”

“I thought he had killed those people. The ones Edda said died in your mother’s arms?”

“They died of the cure she was trying to create.”

“God’s blood,” he whispered.

She wept on his shoulder again and he comforted her while he seethed about Marcus.

“Based on what I saw in my dreams, the ward worked against Marcus.”

“Yes. Too bad it doesn’t work against everyone.”

“Aye, I have wished that many times myself. You handled yourself well with Jason, though. I’m proud of you.”

“There are two very angry men out there.”

“And you have one fierce Vamsyrian ready to dispatch them here. You have the book. They’re mine.” Broderick rose and set her on the floor. “Stay in the cottage and put up the ward.”

He claimed her mouth for a brief kiss, but when he pulled away to walk out the door, she grabbed his arm. “No!” She threw her hand out toward the door and rattled the incantation off faster than Broderick had ever heard. “You’re not going out there. I need you here with me.”

He frowned at the door, then swung his head back to her. “Did you just use
magick
to lock me inside?”

She crossed her arms. “I did.” She stomped through the house and put a block on every window and the back entrance. “If I didn’t make myself clear enough last night, hear me now. I will
not
risk losing you to the venom of a werewolf. If I have to make you my prisoner and feed you my own blood, then that is what I will do!” Monika punched her fists onto her hips.

Broderick tossed his head back and guffawed.

She suppressed a grin. “Besides, I need to check your bandages, so sit down.”

He chuckled. “As you wish.” Removing his shirt, he reveled at the hunger in her eyes as they roamed over his torso. He straddled the chair, as he had the night before, so his back was to the hearth. Broderick shivered when her soft touch removed the bandages. He peered over his shoulder at her intense gaze while she unwrapped him. Such a contrast to the sobbing and vulnerable woman he’d held in his arms moments ago. He rested his chin on his forearm. “Helping others distracts you from your own pain, doesn’t it?”

The movement of her hands slowed for a moment. “Hrmmm. I never considered.” She resumed her busier pace then tossed the bandages into the fire. “Mayhap you are correct.”

With a warm, wet cloth, she wiped away the poultice. Each stroke of her heated hand, the gentle touch of her fingers, melted over his skin and his cock twitched in response.

“Oh, that’s much better,” she whispered. “You’re healing remarkably well.”

He sighed, stirring over her sweet breath against his ear. “That’s good to know. The last wound I had took months to heal.”

As she bent forward to place the wet cloth on the table, her breast brushed against his shoulder. Broderick groaned.

She chuckled. “Based on those old scars, I would say they were much deeper gashes then these new ones.”

“Aye.”

While she rinsed the cloth by the hearth, Broderick stood and turned the chair so he could sit proper. Monika sashayed next to him and rested her rump on the table, crossing her arms. “We should keep the bandages off for now.”

He nodded and reached for her waist, pulling her to stand between his knees. “Did you get much sleep after I left?” He began unlacing her bodice.

Her full mouth twisted into a smirk. “Not much.”

“Then I have to apologize, because you won’t get much sleep tonight, either.”

She smiled and drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was hoping you would say something like that.” Monika shrugged out of her bodice and tossed it to the table, then reached around his head to untie the leather strip holding his hair back. She tossed that to the table and ran her fingers over his scalp from his brow to the back of head. Broderick sighed. Sliding his hands under her blouse, he caressed her nipples until they peaked against her chemise. Monika clutched his head and arched her back, moaning.

Eager to feast on her skin, Broderick stripped her clothing from her lush curves until she stood naked. Her pert and full breasts jutted before him and his mouth watered. He cupped her right breast, flicking his tongue over her peaked nub while she gasped. Nibbling his way to her other breast, he lavished it with the same attention, suckling, flicking, holding both sumptuous globes in his hands.

“I want you naked,” she breathed.

Broderick enjoyed one more sweep of his tongue around her nipple before standing and unfastening his breeches. With boots shed and trousers pooled on the floor, he bent forward and possessed her sweet lips with a demanding kiss. He groaned as her hands explored his chest and abdomen, which flexed in response to her flame-like touches. Her hands massaged over his hips, working back to his buttocks, and squeezed. She knelt before him and he held his breath.

Her plump lips parted, her tongue darting out to moisten them as she gazed at his erection. Her hungry eyes glanced at him and a wicked smile curved her mouth. She wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft and Broderick hissed for their heat. “Up and down like this?” she whispered as she stroked him.

“Harder,” he grunted. “You can’t hurt me, so don’t be afraid to squeeze.”

Smiling wider, she did just that and Broderick dropped his head back and groaned. God’s blood, he loved her sexual curiosity. Davina in her previous life was so timid and submissive in the bedchamber until he taught her to be more bold. In this life, she hadn’t been taught to be afraid of making love and seemed to only have the memories of their joyous coupling. He gasped when his prick was engulfed with wet heat. Dropping his gaze, he moaned at Monika’s lips around his cockhead. He raked his fingers through her chocolate tresses and cradled her head as it bobbed on his staff. He panted when she massaged his ballocks and her other hand stroked his shaft in unison with her mouth. That was exactly what he’d taught Davina to do. His legs trembled and his eyes fixed on her lips sliding up and down, her fingers glistening, her lids closed, and she moaned. The vibrations of her voice caused a shudder to course across his abdomen.

She pulled away from Broderick, licking her lips, but still stroking him. “I remember doing this in my dreams. Am I doing it correctly?”

He groaned. “Oh, Blossom, you’re perfect.”

“May we try something?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Feeling adventurous, are we?”

She nodded, still stroking his shaft. “There is a certain position we’ve done in my dreams…not often, but it’s one I enjoy most.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I think I know. Would you like see if we’re thinking of same one?”

Her eyes glimmered and she nodded. She twirled and sashayed to the bedroom, her round bottom swaying deliciously. When he reached her side, he waved to the bed. “On your hands and knees.”

She knelt on the mattress and bent forward on all fours.

“Before we do that…” He nudged her knees apart with his hand, then smoothed his palm over her back. “Put your shoulders down on the bed. Leave your luscious arse in the air for me.”

“Oooo. This sounds wicked.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Deliciously wicked.”

When she dropped her shoulders to the bed, Broderick dragged his tongue along her wet cleft.

Monika groaned into the bedding. “Oh, God, Broderick!”

Flicking his tongue up and down her wet folds, he moaned, enjoying the taste of her and the melody of her cries. She clutched the coverlet as he speared his tongue inside her, delving deep and penetrating her as his cock ached to. She tasted like heaven, so musky, so subtly decadent and rich. He sealed his mouth around her clitoris, fluttering against the tiny nub, and in moments Monika cried out a breathless climax. He gave her one last, long lick, which elicited a languorous moan from her. Broderick knelt behind her, grabbing his cock to guide it, and sheathed himself in her tight heat, both of them moaning as he buried himself to the hilt.

“Ohhh, yes. This is it.”

“Aye,” he groaned. “This was our preferred way of making love. Not performed often, but favored.” Broderick rocked his hips, slowing pulling out then thrusting inside her. He shuddered as he witnessed his hard shaft sliding in and out of her wet core, each slow stroke driving him higher.

Monika whimpered and panted. “Faster. Please, faster.”

Broderick grabbed her hips and pumped, his ballocks slapping against her, plunge and drag, each thrust pushing him further toward his limit. He slowed, wanting to draw out the pleasure for them both. He raised one knee, resting his foot on the bed to give him better leverage. Although he enjoyed the view of her round arse raised high, the slope of her beautiful back, he wanted to see her face. But not before he made her climax in this manner. Placing his palm on the small of her back, he made a slight adjustment of his angle and drove into her with steady, deliberate strokes.