Rebel Obsession (32 page)
He took out his phone and punched in Gregos’s number.
Gregos answered swiftly, as he always did. “Sire?”
“Contact Stryker. Tell him to arrest Traceon. Then bring me Tristan. Now.”
Gregos hesitated long enough for King Bain to realize the liaison didn’t know what to think about Bain’s commands then said, “Of course. Right away.”
Bain disconnected, set his phone on the table, then linked his hands behind his back as he walked toward the window and looked out into the darkness. All he could do now was wait. And seethe. Seething was good. It gave him time to fantasize about exactly how he would kill Io once he got his hands on him.
Io’s fingers played over the curves of Miriam’s body. They had made love for what felt like hours, deep into the night. He had taken her every way imaginable, and still, he wanted more. If this was how it was for a mated male even without the
calling
in full force, he was all for it. Sex had never been more satisfying.
Her hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, her lips working against his in rhythmic caresses as her latest orgasm continued to simmer her flesh and milk another of his releases from his cock.
How many times had he come inside her? He hadn’t known he could even come so much in one night, but as soon as one orgasm ended, another began to build as her body called to his to continue mating. He couldn’t explain it. Maybe his
calling
had started and he just didn’t realize it, because he did feel an undeniable pull toward her. It was like she was a lioness in heat, and he was the lion chosen to serve her. Except that wasn’t how it worked with vampires. With vampires, it was the male who determined fertility. It was the male who went into heat, as it were, during his
calling.
And so far, it didn’t feel as though his
calling
had officially begun. But then again, when had Io ever taken a mate? He had no first-hand experience to go on.
Calling
phases were a learn-as-you-go affair, not something set in stone that could be taught.
Calling
or not, Miriam seemed just as willing to continue their lovemaking as he was, her body begging for more as she kept right up with him.
As if on cue, she purred. Damn, he hoped he never got used to that. It was sexy as hell.
“Still aroused, are you?” he said, pulling away.
She nodded. “Yes.” Her hands brushed up and over his chest, and her fingers squeezed his pecs.
“Me, too.”
She smiled, and he kissed her gently.
“Unfortunately, it’s time for another dose of elixir,” he said.
She sighed. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be right back.” He grinned. “I wouldn’t want to shirk my duties as your rehabilitation and recovery counselor now would I?”
“Ha.” She rolled her eyes at him.
He pulled out of her and fought to get out of bed. Damn, but he hated leaving the cocoon of her body. He just wanted to stay inside her for the next several hours. Shit, he even wanted to fall asleep with his cock inside her. She was the perfect sheath for him.
He filled the cup she had been using with water, squeezed in a drop of elixir, then returned to bed. “Here.”
She drank it readily then handed the empty cup back as she smacked her lips and made a face at the aftertaste. At least she seemed to be getting more used to the pungent flavor.
“How long will the withdrawal last?” she said.
“It depends. The longer you use, the longer the withdrawal.”
“I only used for a couple of months.”
Io brushed her hair off her face and away from her eyes. “Then you’ll probably have it bad for a few days. After that, it will be a little easier for a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t feel like it’s bad.” She traced a graceful finger down his throat to his chest, where it danced back and forth, up and down, around in circles, tickling his skin.
Her coy flirting made him lick his lips and grin. “Ah, but that’s because I’m excellent at distracting you.” He plucked her finger from his sternum and brought it to his mouth, licked it, took it between his lips, tasted her skin, and caressed it with his tongue.
Miriam’s lips parted, and she stared at what he was doing with his mouth as if she had never seen anything so captivating.
After releasing her finger, he kissed her palm and settled in beside her, propped on his elbow. Her skin was smooth and warm, her body firm, made for his hand and his alone.
She lay down facing him. “How about you? How long did your withdrawal last?” Her eyes closed as he caressed her face and brushed back her hair.
He could smell his countless offerings wafting out of her. He liked that she smelled of him.
“I was in bad shape. It took me a couple of months to get through.” He skimmed his palm down the plateau of her abdomen to the curve of her hip. “Mmm, but I didn’t have such a beautiful distraction to help me, though.” He scooted closer and kissed her. “But I was overdosing practically every night and had used for over six months, too.”
“How did you get through that?” She draped her leg over his, her fingers stroking lightly on his chest, up and down, up and down.
“Arion stayed with me. He helped me through. I mentioned him before.”
“I remember, yes. He was the one engaged to Persephone for about a heartbeat. What did he do for you? Was he a former addict, too?”
Io shook his head. “No. He never used. But he took care of me while I did.” He looked down. Damn, he missed Ari. “Ari was the best friend a guy could have. He practically lived with me for six months, taking care of me, helping me get off the shit. It had to have been hell for him, but he never complained. He just held me while I puked, cleaned me up, poured that shit down my throat—even when I physically fought him, I might add.” He glanced at Miriam and grinned. “He was…well, he was my best friend. What can I say? That’s what friends do for one another.”
“Was?” Miriam frowned at him. “What happened?”
Io shook his head and averted his gaze. Talking about Arion hurt. What was Ari doing right now? Was he missing hanging out with him? Was he cursing Io’s name?
Miriam’s hand caressed his arm, but she didn’t say anything, as if she knew he needed to reveal his thoughts at his own pace. He loved her even more for that.
“Arion and I had a falling out the night I met you.” Had it really been almost three weeks ago?
“Over…?”
Io took a deep breath and blew it out. “It’s silly, really.”
“I won’t laugh.”
Their eyes met and he saw his mate’s love, pure and comforting, shining back at him. He felt completely safe, as if he could confess his most shameful behavior to her and she would absolve him and make him clean again.
“Arion’s gay,” he said, and before he could stop himself, the whole story poured out about Arion and Severin, as well as everything that had happened the night she was brought in to AKM during her first overdose.
She sat quietly and listened to every word.
“I treated him horribly, Miri. My best friend, who had been with me through everything, and I abandoned him. All because I was an ignorant ass. He’s happy with Sev. They were made for each other like I was made for you, but I said awful things to him. I treated him badly. I’m such a terrible friend.” He looked away, not wanting her to see the emotion welling in his eyes.
She reached up and turned his face back to hers. “You miss him.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, I do. I really miss him.”
“Then apologize to him.”
“I want to, but I’m afraid it’s too late. I’m afraid I’ve done too much damage for it to ever be the same.”
“You won’t know unless you try, Io. But I don’t think it’s too late. I would bet he misses you just as much.”
“Sev says he does.”
She perked up. “Well, see.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Io, I’m sure it will be awkward at first. Maybe he’ll be upset with you and won’t be as friendly as he once was for a while, but I’ll bet he comes around. You two were friends for so long. People can’t just throw that kind of closeness away so easily.”
Io wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. “I love you.” How did you fall in love with someone you just met? Io had never thought it would be possible, but without question, it had happened to him.
She hugged him back. “I love you, too.”
A loud crash exploded upstairs. It sounded like the front door had been busted right off its hinges, followed by a rush of footsteps.
“Oh my God!” Miriam jumped away and scurried for her clothes as he bolted out of the bed and did the same.
It didn’t take an Einstein to know who had just barged in to his home. But damn, they could have rung the doorbell.
“I didn’t know they would do an inspection so soon,” he said, yanking on a shirt after pulling on his boxer shorts.
“I didn’t either!” Fear filled her eyes.
There would be no way for them to hide what had been going on between them. His scent was all over her and hers on him. He rushed to her after pulling on his sweats and helped her yank on her shirt then clutched her protectively in his arms. She gripped him tightly then kissed him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
There was no time to respond as the door to the basement splintered and the same guards from the other day barreled down the stairs. Miriam’s hold tightened, and he tried to push her behind him, but she had none of that. She seemed intent on facing them by his side.
Donovan, whose face still showed signs of a broken nose, was a picture of menace as he stalked forward and backhanded Io.
“No!” Miriam yelled at him, but Donovan ignored her and hit Io again.
Seemed ol’ Donovan had some pent-up anger left over from the other night.
“You ingrate,” Donovan said, his lip curling. The bruised, brownish-yellow flesh around both eyes held the shadows of the damage Io had inflicted on him.
Io snarled. This was still his home, and Miriam was his mate. The instinct to protect both was greater than logical thought, which dictated he not fight back for fear of making the situation worse.
Miriam slapped Donovan. “Io is my mate and you will not speak to him like that.” She stood tall, head up and shoulders back. “You will address him in a manner fit for a prince.”
This was clearly her arena, not his, and Io barely managed to remain silent as she unfurled her royal entitlements in an effort to protect them both.
“He has defiled the Daughter of Bain, and he has lied to the king,” Donovan said.
“He has not defiled me.” Miriam spoke with confidence and social grace. Io imagined she would make a fine politician. “He is my mate. As such, he is entitled to claim me, as it is written in law.”
“That doesn’t matter, Daughter of Bain. The law as it pertains to you supersedes all other laws, so Io must be arrested.” Donovan reached for him.
“No.” Miriam latched on to Io and pulled him back.
“Unhand him,” Donovan commanded. “King’s orders. He is to stand trial.”
“No!” Miriam tried to protest and struck out at Donovan, but his men were already pulling Io out of her arms.
The physical distance stretching between them as the guards pulled him away was intolerable. An ache sprouted in his chest, and he reached for her. When the guards resisted and jerked on his arm, he whipped his head around and hissed at them, his fangs punching out.
Shit was about to get critical if they didn’t let him go.
“Donovan! Let him go! I command you.” Miriam glared at the head guard.
“No.”
She slapped him, and tears sprung in her eyes. They were losing, and she knew it. They had gambled and lost. Score one for the king. Behind him, he heard the telltale sound of handcuffs. No fucking way was he being cuffed. Hell to the no!
Snarling, he began to resist until a pinprick in the side of the neck drew his attention. He snapped his head around and saw one of the guards pull away a syringe. The fucker sneered as if he’d just stolen the bride from the groom.
“Nighty-night,” the guy said with a little finger wave.
Miriam sobbed nearby. “NO!”
But it was too late. Everything went hazy, then black.
Checkmate. Io out.
Stryker hung up the phone and pushed away from his desk, grumbling to himself. He had to arrest one of his own? Over someone taking a damn mate? Good thing he was mateless, girlfriendless, and wanted nothing to do with either. Love and romance and all that sexual shit were too much trouble. Messy. Not worth the effort. Let other males deal with that shit. He would keep his life simple. His hand was enough for him. He didn’t need a female to give him his jollies, and he had carefully structured his life to keep exposure to the fairer sex at a minimum so he didn’t risk tripping his inner I’ll-fuck-your-world-all-up-and-take-a-mate mechanism.
Look at what had happened to Micah after losing Katarina. And Malek after losing Carmen all those centuries ago. Hell, even Severin and Arion had nearly died over mating one another. And now Io was playing the hi-I’m-your-mate game with the king’s daughter?
Taking a mate. Nothing but trouble. Trouble Stryker didn’t want, didn’t need, and would avoid at all costs. He liked his orderly, plain-Joe life, thank you very much.
After stopping by dispatch to order a call to Devon and Bauer to meet him out front in five, he marched crisply down the hall to Tristan’s office, full-on military hard-ass, his boots thunking heavily on the tile. Tristan was just hanging up his phone, his face pale. He looked up and met Stryker’s gaze.
“You’re aware?” Stryker asked.
Tristan nodded. “I just got off the phone with Gregos.”
Man, this shit sucked elephant balls. He hated arresting Tristan. But orders were orders.
“You need to come with me, Tristan. I’m sorry.”
Tristan stood up and grabbed his jacket. “Don’t be. I knew what I was doing.”
“Where’s your boy?” It would save them a lot of time if Tristan could tell him where Trace was so they didn’t have to look all over God’s green earth for him.
