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Oh, God. What have I done?
Andre had said all I had to do was get close to Gabriel. “I just want information,” he’d told me. But it didn’t take a genius to guess how he intended to use that info.
I glanced around, desperate for a way out—and saw Martin on the sidewalk across the street, a pretty thrall on his arm.
I froze. Fear crawled, spider-like, down my nape.
Martin and Stefan had spent the past three days “training” me, just the three of us in a windowless basement room. Touching me: my face, my neck, my breasts. Whispering that if I didn’t obey Andre to the letter, they’d do that and more. Speculating what a good little blood slave I’d make… And the only thing stopping them from doing the same—or worse—to Joey was me.
The blond vampire sauntered past, his attention seemingly on the thrall, but I knew better.
My hand went to my throat. Tonight, right before I’d been dropped off a few blocks from the club, Martin had licked me right over my jugular vein. “Remember we have Joey,” he’d murmured, then politely helped me out of the taxi.
Gabriel’s gaze followed mine to Martin. He gripped the back of my skull and turned my head so that I was looking at him. Displeasure came off him in hot waves.
“And Camila? Don’t even think of running. This time, I’ll drag your ass back before you get five feet.”
I moistened my lips. “I don’t know what you mean. Why would I run?”
“No?” His fingers dug into my nape. “Well, know this. The blood bond means you’re mine. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next month. Next year. It’s permanent, a contract recognized in both the human and vampire worlds. Run, and you’ll just make me angry. And trust me,cher, you don’t want to make me angry.”
The limo pulled up to the curb. One bodyguard opened the door for us while the other sat in the front with the driver.
Gabriel released me. “After you,” he said with an icy courtesy.
I climbed inside.
6
Gabriel
Isettled my long limbs onto the opposite end of the seat from Mila. The driver pulled into traffic, followed by two other limos of the same make and color. One turned left, one went straight, and we went right—a sample of the increased security I lived under these days. Precautions I’d already grown to hate, even though I understood the need. If it was up to me, I’d take my Jag out to the island instead.
Mila swallowed, the sound loud in the small space. But her face was serene. A mask I ached to rip off to find out what she was really thinking.
What did she want?
I’d meant what I’d said. The blood bond was permanent. Now that it had been invoked and accepted, only I could break it, which as far as I was concerned, made it forever.
And she knew that damn well. Three years ago, I’d explained exactly what it meant before I’d sworn my half of the oath. She’d said it was what she wanted, too…and then run.
Now, in accepting the blood bond, she’d put herself under my control. This was more than a thrall contract. A thrall had choices, could leave when the contract was up. But Mila would be mine, and only mine, for as long as I wished.
I’d be lying if I didn’t feel a dark thrill.
My woman. My blood toy.
Mine.
I’d loved Mila—once. Hell, I’d spent the first year after she’d left angry and depressed. But I’d understood. I was the crown prince, my father’s heir. The various vampire syndicates around the world were our version of the human mafia.
I’d told Mila straight out that if we bonded, it was for forever. A Kral simply couldn’t allow his women to go free. It was as much for their own safety as the Syndicate’s. And besides, a vampire didn’t share his toys, and where Mila was concerned, I was very much a vampire.
But now she was back, and I wanted to know why.
I eyed her moodily. She shifted the tiniest bit under my scrutiny.
I’d hungered for even a glimpse of her, and now I had her alone in this small, enclosed space with only my driver and a Syndicate soldier on the other side of the sound-proofed partition. Even racked with suspicion, I couldn’t help drinking in every detail.
