Blood Bonds (14 page)

“If you want me to eat, then why doesn’t one of you offer up something?” The suggestion earned Farley a cuff across the side of his face. Something flopped against his cheek. He was pretty sure it was his ear.

“Maybe we should just fuck you and eat you?”

Farley didn’t know who made the suggestion, but it sounded better than the alternative: him doing what his instincts demanded to the Human standing in the corner.

God of Man, she smelled good.

Claire. Her name is Claire.

Another set of teeth sank into Farley’s thigh and a hand stroked his cock. Sex was better than thinking about food. Farley arched into the Male’s grip. The shackles on his wrists gave him no slack, so he had to force himself to twist his lower half one way to keep his head tilted up at the Human.

He didn’t dare close his eyes because he knew the dark Male would make good on his threat. Farley locked his eyes on a spot above the girl’s head. They’d never know. Chrissy watched the torture show, a small sweet smile on her pretty little face.

Farley opened his mouth so he could pant. Between the hand job and the
feeding
he wasn’t going to last much longer. He concentrated on the crack in the wall, the shape, the direction, how the dim light of the catacombs dulled the pyrite flecked along the edge. Farley’s body shuddered and he forced himself to hold back. Every second he withheld, was another second Chrissy had to grow a brain and take off. Teeth hit Farley at the base of his cock and sank into the soft flesh of his groin. He bucked, losing himself and bringing another round of laughter from the Males. Farley came again from the sensation of being
fed
on.

Farley rolled his eyes, wanting so bad to shut them.

“Are you ready to give in yet?” The dark Male caressed his neck and back. His
chelae
left burning trails along the way.

Just a little bite. You can take it from her wrist or ankle. It will barely leave a scar.

I will not eat Claire!

“Actually...” Man, it was getting hard to think. “I was thinking you could undo these shackles and let my hands go, and I could show you how to give a proper hand job?” Farley managed to smile at the dark Male. But he didn’t smile back.

“Has he eaten yet?”

The sound of Medan’s voice made the blood in Farley’s veins form ice. All around him the Males withdrew. How many were there now? Five, six?

“He still resists,” said the dark Male.

“Farley? Resist?” The sound of Medan’s movement filled the cavern. Her scent threw Farley’s instinct for self-preservation in overdrive. He kicked, broken legs sliding in his own blood and body fluids.

Farley’s view of Chrissy was replaced by a large golden eye. He jerked back but the shackles held him.

“The Little Gold who could.”

If Farley didn’t know better, he would say she sounded amused. But she’d have to have a sense of humor to be amused, and that was one thing Medan lacked.

Oh, and a conscience.

The Atlanta Queen’s massive bronze head swung closer. Her nostrils flared and her hot breath raced over Farley’s skin. She circled the alter, her scales sliding with each step, her wings rustling like fall leaves. Farley flinched with each and every stir of air.

“Farley...” She said his name like it was meant to be pronounced in Olde Tongue,
Fah-ruul-e-I.

Farley forced himself to raise his head and look at the Atlanta Queen. She truly was beautiful.

“Tell me, Little Gold. Do you think Haley will save you? Or do you think she will leave you to become the
food
you were meant to be?” Medan turned her great head in his direction, her lips peeled back, flashing teeth as long as his hands.

“Haley won’t come.” Farley’s insides screamed because he wanted her to come. He didn’t want to die down here. Not at the hands of Medan or her Marked.

The Queen’s long black tongue flicked out, the forks curled, testing the air. “I think she will come.”

Farley shook his head. “They’ll never grant her permission.” No, the things Haley knew made her too big of a risk to be lost to the Hive.

“I think you underestimate her, Little Gold. She is predictable ... to a fault.” Her head swung over to Chrissy. Farley had to give the girl credit, she didn’t even flinch. “Are you displeased with the
food
I offer you?” Her tone went all sing song. “Is she not to your liking?” Medan moved around the Human, her massive form snaking with impossible grace. “Farley? Your Queen is speaking to you.”

“I’m on the wagon...” Farley twisted against the iron shackles until his wrists ached.

“But she is willing.” Medan held up a large taloned hand and made like Vanna White.

Pat, I’d like to buy a vowel please.

Farley shook his head. “Please, My Queen, I cannot take Human flesh and blood.”

“But the meat is sweet, the blood rich.” Medan turned her gaze on him. Farley couldn’t look at her. The fear she bled was just too much. It made his balls want to burrow up into his stomach and his skin crawl away. Her tone darkened. “It never bothered you before.”

Lots of things never bothered him before. But that was a long time ago, over a century.

“I seem to recall a Little Gold, so fierce and violent, his thirst for flesh the thing of legends.” She moved closer and Farley jerked back.

Medan purred. “You instilled such fear in the hearts of the
Chetrah
.”

“That was another time, another place; I don’t eat Human flesh anymore. I gave it up.”

“Because of her?” Medan’s voice was completely calm, which meant her anger was rising.

“Yes, my Queen.”

“To please her?”

Now that was a loaded question and Farley knew it. If he answered no, it would be a lie. If he answered yes, Medan was going to be pissed, because he was more interested in pleasing Haley than his Queen.

The Kin who gave him permission to keep breathing.

“Please...” Farley turned his head away and pressed his face into his arm. His skin was clammy against his lips.

“Look at me, Farley. Gaze upon your Queen with the admiration and fear you should have for her.” His neck felt like it was rusted, but somehow Farley got his head to turn. His eyes opened too, which was a plus. “Good.” Medan eased back and sat up on her haunches.

God of Man, she was huge.

The Queen put her front legs on either side of the Human. Her massive claws glistened in the low light. “Step forward,
Chetrah
.” Chrissy didn’t even hesitate. “Stop.” She stopped at the edge of the table. Farley slid back as far as he could. He could smell her, a rich buttered chicken scent and the sweet undertone of chocolate.

Farley shivered, his body ached, and his
hunger
kicked the inside of his ribs.

Her name is Claire.

Her name is Claire.

Her name is Claire.

“Please, Medan...” Farley inched forward, even though he didn’t want to. The shackles on his wrists released. He didn’t know who opened them. He didn’t look. He couldn’t peel his eyes off the Human.

An ache shot through his jaws as his teeth punched through. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth and fed his
need,
making it stronger. Farley’s metaphysical energy flared, responding to the prospect of
food,
knitting his broken bones, and closing wounds. A new ear unfolded from the side of his head as his preternatural-self sucked the last bit of his reserves, leaving him void. Starving.

Farley’s vision slid away, turning the twilight of the cavern into daylight.

“I am here for you, My Lord.” Chrissy smiled her beautiful smile.

Farley reached for her and she came to him “Your name is Claire.”

“If that is what you wish, my name is Claire.” Her lips touched his and he could taste her. “
Feed
from me, Your Greatness.”

Farley wrapped one hand around the back of her neck and the other around her waist, and pulled himself up on his knees. Chrissy went with him, throwing her head back, offering him the softest part of her throat.

Farley wasn’t going to be able to stop. His control was gone, his barriers were down. There was only one thing he could do and that was turn the need for
food
into sex. He’d learned very early in the hatching grounds how to survive. It wasn’t very difficult because the lines between
food
and sex often crossed for Kin, and any other time they were so close together it was easy to mistake one for the other.

Farley turned with Chrissy in his arms and pinned her to the table. He thought of Claire, how sweet she smelled. How she laughed, how she called to him when...

He kissed her, plunging his tongue in her mouth, tasting her as a person. He touched her shoulder, ran a hand to her breast. He rolled a thumb over her nipple and she cried out.

Chrissy stared at him with surprise, but clearly wasn’t put off by the prospect of what he was asking from her. She rolled her head back and forth, arching under him, as he dipped low and suckled a sharp pink point. Her scent changed. The buttery smell was gone, replaced by arousal.

“Claire…” Farley said it aloud. Hearing her name made it more real. “Claire...” He kissed her again and she reached for him. She stroked him and he moved between her legs.
Slow
. He needed to make this last. Every minute was more time for Chrissy to live. Maybe with any luck Farley would burn himself out. He’d be dead but at least the she would live.

Chrissy moaned, opened her legs wider, arched herself up to him. She glistened wet and pink. Farley hissed when she pressed herself against him. She grabbed his face and shoved her mouth to his, plunged her tongue between his teeth. He tried to stop her, but it was too late.

The sweet taste filled Farley’s mouth, crawled along his palate, sank down into his gums, and even when he tried to spit he could only swallow. He looked down at Chrissy and she was smiling, a bit of crimson on her lip.

She giggled. “I think I cut my tongue on your teeth.” Her hand touched his cheek. “Don’t stop.” She moved closer and nibbled his jaw. “I like this.”

Farley felt his hunger rise like the climax of sex. And he was just as powerless to stop it. “Oh, Claire, I’m so sorry.”

Haley parked the car in front of the jewelry store and went inside. Like a lot of shops in the Gray Zone, the place was caught in a time warp. Somewhere between the fifties and sixties by the look of the tile floor and contrast of wood paneled walls. The poor lighting sucked handfuls of square footage, making the place seem smaller than it actually was.

And it was small.

A young couple stood off to Haley’s right admiring several pieces inside an old wood display case. An older man at the other end tried on watches the salesman showed him.

Haley checked her watch. It was five o’clock. The sky had already turned a reddish gold bordering on copper. Sunset would be in the next half hour.

“Can I help you?” Haley looked up at the salesman. Like all Folk he had a perpetual teenage appearance.

She handed the shopkeeper Garrett’s card. “I want something big, beautiful, and expensive. Surprise me.”

His smile went Grand Canyon wide.

Haley left the car sitting in a parking space on the side of the building. Her ID and her cell stayed in the trunk. She slid the keys under the wheel well, leaving them on the tire. Taking a cab was too risky because someone might recognize her if they were asked about it later.

She walked up the dirty block toward the high stacked stone construct, known as the Wall, which enclosed the Atlanta Dens.

The Gray Zone, where the Dens were located, occupied a thirty mile strip of abandoned city and was a conglomeration of economy apartments, old factories, small businesses, and clubs. Each new decade had left its mark on the place, until it resembled a collage of ancient ruins and turn-of-the-century window shops. Change came slow to the Gray Zone. Progress had stopped and started at various points until entire decades had been misplaced in its growth.

Here poverty was thick, but pride was thicker. It showed in everything from sparkling cracked windows to swept broken sidewalks. There were very few cars on the street, but they were clean and un-vandalized.

And in spite of the nonhuman residents, people lived with their windows up and their doors open.

After all, there was only one rule in the Dens; leave what is not yours alone.

Or you might lose a hand.

Just one if you’re lucky.

It was no secret that the city didn’t waste a dime trying to keep any shine on the place.

Small shanty-town shacks, built from cardboard, tin, and scraps of wood sat flush against the Wall. On the inside, the sun was already too low for the light to make it over the stacked stone. Shadows were like ink. Streetlamps didn’t exist here.

Haley headed east and into the night club district. Here the stone walls had been decorated with offensive neon lights. Medan’s nightclub, the Pit, occupied almost the entire upper block.

Since the night was just starting to bloom, the place was still empty. Haley could hear guitars being strummed as speakers were tested. A set of double doors were propped open by a matching pair of bouncers dressed in black.

Haley walked past a group of teenagers, Human, dressed in fishnet and chains. They eyed her and made a few passing comments about her choice in wardrobe.

When she got to the door, one of the bouncers stopped her. “We don’t open until seven. No walk-ins tonight. Kazy is playin’.”

She’d heard of the band, one of several put together by Lesser-Breds, but she didn’t own any of their CDs. Godsmack was more her taste.

“I’m not here for the music. I’m here to see Medan.”

The bouncer laughed at her, but his buddy didn’t; his buddy was Kin.

“Let her in.” The Male’s eyes went golden.

“Drey? You serious, man?”

Drey slid forward, his mouth open, his nose doing double time to suck in her scent. He grinned, wicked and wide. “She’s Female.”

“Duh.” Bouncer Number One looked at his friend like he was the stupid one. He blinked a couple times then his face dropped. “You mean, Female,” he said with a capital F. “No shit?” It was a Human thing to do. He reached out to touch her, maybe flick a little bit of her hair, or poke her arm to see if she was real. He never made it. The Male caught his hand and flashed a mouth full of teeth.