Page 96 of Sight of Fate

I swallow, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Can I reject her?”

He sighs. “Andros, you’re your own worst enemy. The more you resist, the worse it will be. No, you can’t reject her, and the fact that you’re asking tells me you don’t want to either.”

“Being with her. Drinking her blood. It won’t force me to bond, right?” I persist, needing to know if there’s a way to circumvent that final act.

“You’re a bloody fool,” Ronan says with a fierceness I didn’t expect. “Very few vampires are lucky enough to find their mates. To live a lifetime with their other half. Instead, we exist with few emotions except for an increasing apathy toward anything beyond the physical need for blood and a good fuck.” He pauses to collect himself. “The cravings for her and her blood will get worse, but you can give in without having to bond. It will come at a cost, though.”

“Understood. Thanks, Ronan,” I tell him, wondering what the toll will be. “I know you have your hands busy, running down leads. Why don’t I look into the HRC?”

“Let me know what you find and tell Macklin to give me a call when he gets back,” he says, hanging up, his daily quota of words well past its limit.

There’s a soft click in the hall downstairs, but instead of Teague’s heavier tread, it’s lighter. I’m moving before I can register the thought, finding her in the kitchen, pouring water into a glass.

Flushed cheeks and swollen pink lips with her blond hair tumbling down her back in wild curls, she looks so sweet; it pisses me off. She’s wearing one of Teague’s black T-shirts and little else. Her bare legs gleam in the moonlight. I grind my teeth. She lifts the glass and takes a long drink, and the image of her mouth on my neck, taking a long pull of my blood—No. Not going there.

She finishes and places the glass in the sink. Before she can turn around, I’m behind her, clamping a hand on her mouth.

“Don’t scream,” I demand, barely feeling the elbow she shoves into my stomach. “Violent little thing, aren’t you? Is that any way to treat your mate?”

Her answer is a muffled tirade that has me spinning her around for a glimpse of her fury and a taste of her lips. Hearing her come the last two nights…I can’t think for wanting a taste of her.

She shudders, and after only a little hesitation, opens her mouth. And I take full advantage, devouring her lips in a hard, unrelenting kiss. Punishment for every torturous sound she’s made over the last two nights. She gasps and grips my shirt, and I inhale sharply, then pull her hands behind her back, holding them with one of mine. The last thing I need is the past rearing its ugly head.

The whooshing sound of her blood moving through her veins is a siren, calling my name, and I grip the back of her hair, tugging her head back. Neck exposed, I leave her clinging lips and skim the column of her throat, placing a kiss at the exact point I want to sink my teeth into. Her heart races.

“Andros, what are you doing? You don’t want this. Us.”

“From the moment the first drop of your blood landed on my tongue, I can barely think of anything but you, and it’s driving me crazy,” I admit, my voice harsh and pissed off. I lick her jugular, and her already-racing heart jumps.

“Me or my blood?” she asks, raising her head to stare into my eyes.

“Both,” I growl. “I want to sink my teeth into you while I fuck you. Hear those pretty little cries of yours…for me as you strangle my cock.” I lick that tantalizing spot again. “Drink your sweet blood.” Her body pulses with need, and I reach between us.

“Stop,” she orders, tugging on her hands until I release them. “You’re rejecting me, remember?” Her words are sharp and full of hurt.

“I don’t want a mate,” I snarl, refusing to surrender. I press my body against hers. “But I want you, crave you. Don’t pretend you don’t feel the same.”

Her whole body freezes, and she gives me an incredulous look. “It’s not enough. I deserve more.”

She straightens her shoulders and walks away like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Knowing Teague’s going to smell her arousal and slide into the wetness I created makes me want to roar with fury. Stalking out of the penthouse, I hit the streets, walking until the bright rays of dawn streak across the sky.

Returning, I’m in and out in five minutes. Already behind on work this week, I could use the extra hours to get caught up. Teague left all the revisions for the contract on my desk, and I update the final version, sending it across to the buyers. By noon, I’m caught up enough to put work aside and start digging into the HRC.

I snort. One little Google search and their website pops up, full of pretty pictures of wide-open fields, kids playing, and the obligatory statement. They tout themselves as a non-profit charity dedicated to helping preserve the rights of every human on earth against the unseen dangers that threaten their very existence. Lucky for me, they also have a board member page with photos and names of people from all races and color. And look at that. Hank Coalfield sits on the board.

I stare at the well-dressed man in his late forties with a smile full of perfect white teeth and imagine ripping his throat out with my bare hands. Ironic how evil can look so unassuming.

Moving on to the founding family and the current representative, Lionel Carter. Family arrived on the Mayflower and built an American empire. Every article is glowing. Touting their philanthropy and the importance of giving back to society.

Surprisingly, the HRC was established in the late 1600s. Run in with a supe, maybe? The wealthy have always known there were supernaturals in this world. Look at my sire. Aristocratic. Greedy for eternal life. Paid an obscene amount to have a vampire turn him and me, of course. The masses rarely know what’s truly going on. Not even in this age of information.

Now that the surface has been scratched, I dig in deeper, starting with the financials. If you ever want to know what an organization deems important, find out what they spend their money on.

Hours later, I crack my neck and pick up my cell. “I found seven facilities so far. Sending the list to you now.”

Silence, then Ronan replies. “We checked the two in Vegas. One was abandoned. Mavros said they moved him shortly after Raine broke into the facility. We cleared out the second one but only found Mavros and Ramiro. I’ll start looking into the other five.”

Night falls, and I remain at my desk, hunting down every dollar spent.