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Chapter One
Stay, Angelica. Please stay …
The expression in Reyes’s clear blue eyes pierced Angelica’s heart. He was pleading for her to remain with him, to help him bring down the Starlin Group, the organization that abducted tens of thousands of humans every year and sold them into slavery.
She’d been with him long enough to understand that he walked this path alone and that he never asked anyone for help.
But he was asking her now.
He still wore his expensive Brioni tux from the after-auction party, and it didn’t help that his broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist or that he was so easy on the eyes. He had a striking appearance with thick black brows, straight nose, and soft, sensual lips. He had a sexy scruff, and his cheekbones angled sharply, adding to his don’t-mess-with-me look.
She tried to be sensible. She had an obligation to her infirm mother that couldn’t be ignored, a life to return to, a very human life. Even though Angelica knew she needed to make changes, to get out of the rut of her accounting job, of too much overtime and not enough social life. But she was still young and she could fix whatever needed to be fixed.
But if she stayed with Reyes she could die.
The truly sensible thing would be to run. Yet she hesitated.
He’d asked her to stay with him during the upcoming Starlin Festival, to continue playing her role as his slave for a few more days or possibly a few more weeks. If she left now he would have a hard time sustaining his cover, but if she stayed she’d have to form a blood-chain bond with him. The bond would help keep her safe from other slavers intent on manhandling her, would increase her ability to siphon his power, and would help her to know what he was feeling from one moment to the next. In the same way, he’d have a clearer view of everything she experienced.
Her own reasons for wanting to stay were far more complex. She had little to gain personally, except the knowledge that in playing her role and supporting Reyes she could possibly save thousands of lives.
The ominous risk to her life, however, kept her locked in a terrible place of indecision.
He stood close to her, the red leather box in his hand, the one that displayed the bonding chains. He wanted her with him badly.
But how could she possibly stay?
She glanced at the blood-chains one more time. Once bonded, the chains would create a proximity issue. From what he’d said, she’d have to remain at all times not more than ten feet away from him. Something about the bond didn’t permit either person straying beyond that distance.
So close.
Something she had to admit: she wanted, to be that close to Reyes. And there would be no reason for not engaging sexually with him anymore, no holding back. Sudden desire, always a breath away, sent a shiver through her. She’d wanted him badly from the first, and she had no doubt that the blood-chain bond would take them the distance.
Extending her hand, she touched the chain on the left and immediately felt a strong drift of power, a vibration against the tip of her finger, like electricity. Everything about Reyes’s world was so strange, the hidden caverns in which an entire vampire civilization lived, the way they could travel with altered flight and pass easily through stone as though it were air and not solid matter, and now the chains infused with his blood.
But could she do this?
Still touching the chain, she lifted her gaze to Reyes. His lips were parted and she could sense what he was feeling, that he desired her and something more, that he called to her from so deep in his soul that her heart seized.
His voice moved softly through her mind: stay.
I want to, Reyes, but I’m scared.
I know.
Then suddenly, as she continued to touch the chain, as the bonding sensation flowed through her finger, she felt drawn into the past. His past. She couldn’t explain exactly what happened, but she saw Reyes as he’d been well over a century ago, when he was a teenager, as the young man abducted by slavers and sold at auction to the sadistic woman known as Sweet Dove.
The image sharpened in Angelica’s mind, and she knew it had to be some kind of vision.
Her breathing grew short as she stayed in the past, seeing him as an innocent youth, full of fire and drive, stacks of books all around his cavern bedroom, as well as a bench, a rack, and barbells for working out. He looked so serious, even back then, so driven.
She didn’t know how she was able to see into his past, but she kept looking and watching. He was lean and looked to be about fifteen. He barely had a beard, compared to his current scruff, but he was clearly proud of what was there, a typical boy in his teens.
She scanned the space and saw that many of the titles dealt with justice and the law. Even then, his purpose had been fixed.
She released the chain, and the image disappeared. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she needed to know if what she’d seen was real. “When you were young, before you were abducted, did you live in a cave with rough, jagged walls, an arched doorway, and books stacked high, all scattered around the space?”
His eyes widened. “Are you telling me when you touched the chain that’s what you saw?”
She nodded slowly. “You had workout equipment in there as well, a bench, barbells. Many of the books had to do with government and the law.”
He stared at her. “You saw all these details?”
She nodded.
“You’ve just described my bedroom, the one I had growing up. And you say this happened when you touched the chain?”
“Yes. I felt a sort of electrical charge; then the image just came to me, of you when you were young.”
He seemed more distressed than ever as he clamped the lid shut on the chains, then shifted to sit on the end of the bed. He scrubbed a hand through his short hair.
She pivoted to look at him. “So, I didn’t imagine what I just saw?”
He lifted his gaze to her. “I was fourteen when I started collecting books from the European and American libraries. I wanted to know about government and about how various societies dealt with criminals, with the rights of the individual. All we have is a corrupt court system in our world.”
“Then you’d already made the seeking of justice your mission even before you were abducted?”
He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his thighs. He clasped his hands tightly together, flexing his jaw several times. “A year prior, my father, a very powerful Ancestral, tried to take a stand against the injustices in our world, in particular the increasing sex-slave traffic. Shortly after he’d made his tenth speech to what had become larger and larger audiences, he disappeared. My mother and I never knew what happened to him, but we suspected he’d been assassinated, then dropped into the middle of the ocean somewhere to remove all traces of his existence. But we had no recourse, no one to turn to for help in finding out what had been done to him, never mind holding anyone liable for the crime.”
