Second of the Winterset Coven (2 page)

Dawn made her way through the four girls waiting to feed the Winterset Coven. Three of them waved to her and said hi, but she wasn’t here for niceties, and if she was honest, being here hurt. She used to be a part of this. She used to be proud to be a feeder—Garret’s feeder—because silly her, she thought there had been something deeper to it.

Fine, she wasn’t one of the cool kids anymore, but Garret owed her answers. She lifted her clenched fist and banged hard on the door.

Aric, the King of the Winterset Coven, opened it and frowned down at her. “Dawn?”

“I need to talk to him.”

A flash of worry slithered through his dove-gray eyes before he composed his face again and shook his head to deny her. “Sorry Dawn, we aren’t ready for feeders yet.”

Feeders
. She hadn’t ever minded that word until now.

“Then he can make time for an old friend.”

Aric placed himself in front of the door, blocking her as she tried to enter.

“Let her in,” Sadey Lowen, the snow leopard shifter mate of Aric, said softly from behind him. “She should see him.”

“Sadey, now’s not the time,” he murmured low.

But Sadey shoved him back and yanked Dawn’s arm until she was following her down the long hallway that led to the basement door. Before they went down, Sadey spun and hugged Dawn hard. “I wanted to come visit you at the hospital, but the police were down our throats. They tried to pin your attack on the coven.” She stood back at arm’s length, her gold eyes glistening. “Was it horrible?”

Dawn swallowed over and over in trying to keep her emotions in check. “I’m fine.”

Sadey brushed her fingertip down the bandage on Dawn’s neck and whispered, “That’s a lie, and we both know it. I miss you around here. Nothing’s the same. Garret’s not…” Sadey inhaled deeply and squeezed Dawn’s shoulders. “Dawn, before you go in there, you should know something.”

Dawn frowned and gripped Sadey’s wrists. She was still one of Dawn’s best friends, even if Dawn wasn’t welcome here anymore. “What is it?”

“He’s…had a hard time since you left.”

Pain unfurled in her chest at Sadey’s admission. Despite what he’d done, Dawn still cared so deeply for Garret it scared her. She didn’t want him to hurt, but then again, she was hurting, and him struggling was fair. At least he felt something. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering. “I didn’t leave, Sadey. I was pushed out. By him. Whatever hard time he’s going through is self-induced. None of this was my choice.” She moved out from under Sadey’s grasp and shoved the basement door open, then jogged down into the darkness.

In the hallway, there was one single light, covered by a thick fixture that dimmed the illumination, but she knew this house like the back of her hand. Second door to the end was the Second of the Winterset Coven’s room. Over the last two days, her roiling anger had grown so deep and wide, any warning in her mind to be wary of a big, powerful vampire was snuffed out by the little devil on her shoulder that was telling her to “fuck him up.”

If her legs weren’t so brittle and wimpy, she would’ve kicked in the door like a badass—she was that riled up. To save herself from broken knees and embarrassment, she used the door knob like a normal human and shoved it open so hard it banked off the wall. Hell yes. She opened her mouth to spew magma-hot rage at him, but at her first glimpse of Garret, the words got stuck in her throat.

He was sitting on his bed, facing away from her, head in his hands. His skin was pale in the soft light. She’d never seen him without a shirt on, and his back was covered in scars. The marks were old, silver, different widths and lengths. She’d always known Garret was muscular from the way his clothes fit him, but she hadn’t expected his shoulders to be so wide and for every tensed muscle to show.

When a long hiss sounded from him, he shook his head hard to stop the sound. “I said I don’t want any feeders. I’m not ready.” His voice was gruff and nearly unrecognizable.

When Dawn closed the door gently behind her, Garret slid a hard glance over his shoulder. His eyes were black as pitch, and his face fearsome. He looked hungry.

When he saw her, Garret stood suddenly to his full height. Gads, she’d almost forgotten how tall he was.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, eyes on the wall, his desk, his dresser—anywhere but on her.

“I thought we were friends.”

Garret huffed a breath. “Friends?”

“Don’t do that,” she said, approaching slowly. “Don’t make me feel like I was nothing. How many hours did we spend in here, playing chess, talking, laughing? How much time did I spend with your coven—”

“My coven, not me—”

“To spend time with you, Garret! You were the draw. Surely you know that. I’m not here to beg you to make it like it was. I’m not here to plead with you to be my friend again.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I have questions. And I want you to know you hurt me. I was attacked by someone you know, who knows you. No matter what you say, we were friends once. You owe me answers.”

Garret’s black gaze ghosted to her neck and away. “Look where my friendship got you, Dawn.”

“Who is Asmund?”

Garret turned away from her, slammed his fists against his desk, and stood there frozen, snarling at the wall.

Not good enough. Dawn stepped closer and whispered, “Geir.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Eleven hundred years ago that was my name. Eleven lifetimes ago.” His dark eyes flashed dangerously when she stepped closer and he backed away, as though he couldn’t stand to be near her.

She’d done the same with the monster in the bar, backed away like this. “Are you really so repulsed by me you can’t stand for me to be close?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Don’t know what you’re talking about. Stop. Stop!” He held out his hand to keep her at arm’s length. “I haven’t fed, I’m fucking starving, and you come in here, looking beautiful, looking pure, looking like everything that’s right, and all I want to do is drink you up. We aren’t the same, Dawn!”

Dawn stomped her foot as her eyes burned. “You didn’t come for me!”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Bull. Shit. I was terrified. I was dying. I was calling out for you like you told me to. You told me if I ever needed you, just say your name. I tried not to. I didn’t want to give that beast anything, but I wanted to live, and you never came. I wanted you to save me, but you ignored me instead.”

“I couldn’t hear you,” he whispered raggedly.

“You could.”

“Not after I broke our bond, Dawn! I was here, playing fucking cards with Sadey, completely unaware you were even in danger. You were dying, and I was playing Spades. So I ask again. Why. Are. You. Here?”

“Why are you so hungry?”

Garret angled his face away, blinked slowly, and leveled her with those shining, black eyes.

“Why?” she asked again.

“Because the other feeders don’t feel right.”

“Because they aren’t me?”

Garret ducked his chin to his chest. “Yep. That.”

“Did you care for me?”

A hesitation, and then another nod.

“As a friend?”

Garret refused to answer, and that was answer enough. No, he hadn’t cared for her just as a friend. He’d cared about her as more. She hadn’t imagined it.

Dawn sat heavily on the edge of his bed and sighed. Nothing was what it had seemed with him. A hundred memories hit her at once. Countless feedings where she’d desperately wanted him to kiss her like some of the other vamps did with their feeders. She’d wanted him to touch her body and soul, but he had been so careful every time. A dozen times, she’d caught him staring at her, and then he’d look away quickly. A thousand smiles that were genuine. Smiles that she’d only ever seen him give to her.

And now she was beginning to think she hadn’t known Garret, or Geir, at all.

Pain throbbed in her neck when she turned her head, and she winced. The meds had worn off, and she’d forgotten to bring them with her.

Garret sat down beside her and pulled her hand away from the bandage where she’d been absently rubbing it. “Let me see,” he murmured. His voice was still too rough, and his eyes looked like a demon’s, but she trusted him. She always had.

There was a soft
tearing sound, and the bandages fell away. His gaze lingered on the bloody one, but he dragged his eyes back to her neck. His face twisted with anger, but his touch over the cuts was gentle, like a butterfly wing against her skin.

“I can keep them from scarring,” he whispered. “It’ll look like he never touched you. I can take the pain away.”

Beautiful promises. Even if her insides couldn’t be fixed, Garret could fix the exterior trauma. But at what cost?

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, sliding her hand up his arm to his knuckles where he cupped her neck. She wanted to hold him in place and never let him go, but Garret had played a steady game for the last four months. Other than a little flirting, he’d feigned disinterest. “I missed my friend. I missed the man who always made me feel better after a shitty shift, and I’ve been trying really hard to get over the loss of that. If you put your lips on me…if you fix me…I’ll be right back where I was. I don’t want to go through detox again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Garret drew his leg around the back of her, giving her something to lean on just like he’d always done. “You want to be my feeder again.”

It was hard to concentrate with his chiseled chest and abs on display. Garret was a warrior, and those inhuman eyes that should terrify her looked so right in his face. He’d grown his hair out longer on top, but cut his hair shorter on the sides. She could almost see the tattoos. Almost. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed so her voice wouldn’t crack when she spoke. “This isn’t about money. I accept it if you can’t be more with me. I don’t understand it, but I can’t force feelings from you.”

“But you
want
feelings from me?” he asked.

Unable to find her voice anymore, she nodded. God, she felt three-whiskey-shots drunk right now, but she was to blame for that. Garret didn’t have extra mind control powers like his king did, or like his maker. Just brute strength.

Garret leaned closer, cradling her gently against his chest, his hand on her neck, supporting her. “What else do you want?” he whispered, his lips close to her ear.

To stay this time. For him to care for her like she cared for him. For him to take her out on a date, meet her mom, and come visit her at work. For him to stick around. For him not to push her away again after tonight. He couldn’t guarantee any of that, though.

Dawn closed her eyes and rested her hand on his chest, right over where his heartbeat should’ve been. His pec was hard as stone, and his skin cold as winter, and the need inside of her opened a little more. “I want you to touch me.”

Garret pressed forward and kissed her neck, right over the painful marks Asmund had left behind. For a moment, she thought Garret would feed right away. She thought he would be driven to take blood to sate his thirst, but he didn’t. He sucked gently, then ran his tongue up her stinging skin. The burn lessened and numbed until she felt nothing but the soft, methodic strokes of his tongue.

Now he would feed, surely.

Gripping her hair, Garret rolled her neck back and dragged his lips slowly to the other side of her throat. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” he murmured against her skin. “Do you know how hard it was not to touch you when I fed? How hard it was not to kiss you after?” He slid his hand between her legs and cupped her sex.

Dawn gasped and curled in on his touch instinctively. His lips were on her neck again—kissing, sucking so gently. The points of his fangs scraped her skin, and she rolled her eyes closed at how amazing it felt. Her body loved the endorphin rush he gave when he drank from her. Maybe this was an addiction. She’d started it for the money, but stayed for Garret. For how he made her feel.

More fangs, and this was it—so different from what Asmund had done to her. Garret could erase him from her mind with this kind of adoration. Maybe that’s why he was doing this. Perhaps that’s why he was letting himself take her farther than he ever had before.

But just as she’d convinced herself he was doing this out of pity for a broken heart, Garret eased off her neck and gripped her hair in the back. His lips an inch from hers, he froze. His eyes were black as night as he stared at her mouth, and his chest heaved with the cool breath he panted.

Just a moment of hesitation, and then he pushed forward and pressed his lips against hers.

Shock zinged through her body and landed between her legs where he dragged his palm up slowly.

Dawn softened her lips and kissed him back, closed her eyes and got lost in the wave of pleasure that every gentle suck caused. It was everything she’d imagined and so much more. His fingers entwined in her hair stayed gentle enough not to hurt, but firm enough that she felt guided and safe.

Garret lowered her to the bed and climbed slowly over her with a lithe grace that could only come from a supe. And never once did he disengage or let her go. Not until he pushed her shirt up and pulled it from her. His arm locked on the bed, rigid and strong, he dragged his gaze down to her bra and stomach. He ground his hips against hers, and she let off a soft moan as he hit her just right at the apex of her thighs. Dawn drew her fingertips up the hard curves of his arms, across his collar bones, down the line between his defined pecks, over the mounds of his abs to the button of his jeans. All the while, she waited for him to stop her. She’d almost kissed him once when she’d been all wrapped up in the endorphins from feeding him, but he’d pulled away. And that was the night he’d ended their friendship. She’d gotten too close, and he’d punished her for it.