Miriam looked away and blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” She shook her head, embarrassed.
“It’s okay.” Io sat back against the headboard.
“I’m just not used to sleeping with someone.”
“Me neither.” Io held her gaze for a moment.
He hadn’t had a female in his bed for sleep in…well…it had never happened. Usually, if he had a female in his bed, he was fucking her, not sleeping with her. And when the fucking was over, it was clear the female had to go. Some resisted, trying to woo him to let them stay, but he never gave in, which was why he usually preferred to fuck them in
their
beds, so he could leave when he was finished.
Man, he was an asshole. Why had it taken him so long to see this about himself? First with Ari, and now with females. He was a lousy friend, a lousy partner, and just plain lousy overall. He needed to reboot his system in the most severe way, but he didn’t know how. What he did know was that he had a feeling the stunning female hugging her knees to her chest and eyeing him nervously could help him figure out who he was now that he was becoming Mr. Self-Revelation.
She looked away, and Io felt as if they had silently made a truce about the sleeping arrangement.
“What did you mean a couple of minutes ago? When you said, that’s how it was for you, too?” she said.
“You caught that, huh?” He leaned forward and propped his arms on his bent knees. He might as well tell her. “I’m a former addict, Miriam.”
She stared at him for a moment, not saying anything. Silence stretched between them until she finally said, “When?”
“Last year.”
More silence.
“How did you get clean?” Was that hope in her voice, along with a deeper understanding of why he had gone after her so hard about her father earlier?
Io’s mind went to Arion, sitting on the bathroom floor with him night-after-night, nursing him through the shit Miriam had just endured a few hours ago. Io’s heart ached for his friend, but he tried to shrug it off. Right now, he didn’t want to think about the best friend he wasn’t sure he still had.
“A friend helped me,” he said. “Like I helped you. I was way fucked up. Worse than you are. I was overdosing every night. Arion—my friend—stayed with me and poured that shit I gave you down my throat and held me as I threw up night-after-night. He never complained, either. Man, he was always there for me. Without question, Ari was always there when I needed him.” Io’s gaze drifted away into introspection. Ari had sat with him every night, giving him his venom, doing whatever it took to clean him up and keep his addiction a secret, fully committing and faithful that the two of them could get him through.
What a poignant thought. Arion had never walked away from him. Not even when Io had pulled that boneheaded cobalt shit every night. Ari had been there for him one hundred and fifty percent. For nearly six months, Ari had all-but-lived in this very house to see Io through his addiction, his recovery, and the horrid withdrawal that had made him want to die. Ari alone had saved him from himself and from the cobalt. Ari had been the one to pull Io back to sobriety and help him beat the blue devil, even stealing the elixir from AKM’s medical supplies and jeopardizing his job so he could keep Io’s addiction a secret from the rest of the team.
And what had Io done when Arion had needed him most? He had run. Io had deserted Ari. What a horrible friend he was.
“Your friend sounds like he really cares about you,” Miriam said.
Salt, meet wound.
“Yeah. Yeah, he does.” Io nodded stiffly. “He sure does.”
At least he used to.
King Bain paced in his study. He couldn’t sleep. After the argument with Miriam, she had run off and still hadn’t returned. She could be anywhere.
He had tried calling her, but she hadn’t answered. Was she avoiding him or was she simply unable to call because she had been captured by one of his many enemies. King Bain trembled briefly as he sat down behind his desk. With his elbows propped on his blotter and his fingers joined together as if in prayer, he rested his chin on his hands and took a deep breath.
He didn’t understand Miriam’s behavior, and she clearly didn’t understand why he was so protective of her. Forces in the world would stop at nothing to get their hands on a member of the royal family in an attempt to hurt him. King Bain had enemies all over the world, and not just dreck enemies. Vampires weren’t always lovey-dovey and cozy bedmates with one another. Just as within the human race, vampires had a bad element who served their own purposes, not caring who they hurt.
In fact, King Bain knew of vampires who worked with drecks to follow more criminal pursuits. And if the rumors were true about what was going on in the dreck underground, keeping Miriam under lock and key was even more important than ever.
The king leaned back in his massive chair, making the rich leather crackle under his shifting weight. His fingers remained laced together, and he steepled his index fingers under his chin, lost in thought.
He met with Premier Royce, the dreck leader who served as King Bain’s counterpart, once every quarter, and they spoke by phone even more frequently. All part of interracial relations and truce management. The dialogue between them had to remain open and steady to allay the aggressive intentions that seemed to hover between the two races like a constant scourge.
During their conversations of the past several months, King Bain had brought up the rumors coming back from AKM, VDA, and his undercover spies that dreck cobalt dealers and other dreck affiliates were capturing vampires and hauling them away to an unknown location. In fact, one of his own spies had suddenly disappeared over a month ago.
Premier Royce denied any knowledge of funny business and had sworn to look into it on several occasions, but as yet, Royce’s
investigations
had turned nothing up.
It made King Bain suspicious. And nervous for his daughter.
With a swift dive of his hand, the king hit a button on his phone.
Immediately, a crisp male voice answered. “Yes, my lord?”
“Donovan. Can you track my daughter’s cell phone?”
“Of course.”
“Do it. She left hours ago and hasn’t returned. Find her.”
“It will be done, my lord.”
The king disconnected and pushed forward to rest his elbows on his desk once more, his forehead pressed against his fists. If anything happened to his daughter, he would destroy anyone who’d had a hand in harming her, even if it meant breaking the truce between the two races.
And as far as Premier Royce was concerned, King Bain had a feeling it was time to bring in a few more specialists.
His thoughts went to his old friend, Maddox, who had disappeared centuries ago after he’d married a human witch. Damn, but Bain missed Maddox. If he were here, the king would have nothing to worry about.
But he feared Maddox was long gone, in more ways than one.
His phone beeped.
He smacked the speaker button. “Yes.”
“We found her,” Donovan said.
“Where?”
“A location in the suburbs. House belongs to Iobates Liatos. We checked him out and confirmed he works at AKM on Tristan’s team.”
Io?
King Bain knew Io’s reputation. The hair on the back of his neck prickled just knowing his daughter was in the home of such a philandering womanizer. King Bain’s blood surged as he shot from his chair. If Io had defiled Miriam, King Bain wouldn’t hesitate to exact the highest penalty within his power to punish him.
“Go. Get. Her.” Each word seethed between clenched teeth as the king practically growled them past his voice box.
Donovan paused for only a heartbeat. “And if he has—?”
King Bain didn’t let Donovan finish the thought. “If he has, kill him.”
Everyone knew the law surrounding his daughter. No one touched Miriam without his permission. Not even a member of Tristan’s team. Especially not Io, whose reputation preceded him in the most unflattering and unimpressive way. King Bain would die before letting the likes of Io touch his daughter.
“Yes, my lord.” Donovan quickly disconnected.
King Bain burst from behind his desk, consumed in a fit of ferocious pacing. What was that bastard doing to his daughter? This very minute, he could be—King Bain slammed his eyes shut and hissed low and deadly at the image of Io seducing his daughter.
With a rush of energy, he was back behind his desk and punching in the speed dial for Gregos Savakis, his liaison who oversaw several teams at AKM, including Tristan’s. Gregos’s son, Arion, had been a member of Tristan’s team until recently.
Gregos answered, his voice groggy from sleep. “Yes, my lord. What’s wrong?”
Clearly, Gregos knew King Bain wouldn’t call him in the middle of the day unless something was wrong.
“We have an incident.” There was no might or maybe.
“An incident?”
“Yes, I want you up to handle the fallout if what I suspect has happened.”
“What’s happened.” Gregos suddenly sounded more awake.
“My daughter. She’s with Io.”
“Oh,” Gregos said flatly.
The king imagined that Gregos’s face had just gone stark white. Gregos knew exactly what Miriam’s proximity to Io meant. King Bain didn’t have to spell it out for him.
Gregos cleared his throat. “Okay, so how do I need to proceed?”
King Bain shook his head, livid, and proceeded to fill Gregos in. He had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.
Thunder ripped the air outside, jolting Miriam awake.
She sat up, gasping. She looked down to see red streaks where her nails had scraped her forearms in her sleep. Her skin itched. And not just on her arms. She itched everywhere. Panic made her heart race and her breathing quicken. What was happening to her? It needed to stop. She needed to keep scratching…to peel off her skin…to scream. A dull throbbing pulsed behind her left eye and she slapped her palm over the left side of her face and winced.
Cobalt. She needed a hit. God, she needed her dealer. Now!
“Are you okay?”
She jumped and swung her gaze around toward the voice. Who was with her? Someone she knew. Someone she trusted. He was someone she liked. She thought for a moment, searching the dark shadows before vaguely remembering where she was.
“I…Io?” Her voice trembled and she frowned. The male’s name was Io, right?
He sat up just a few feet away from her and turned on the light. The quiet click sounded like an explosion and she jerked and curled in on herself protectively, shivering, shielding her eyes from the light with her hand.
“Miriam?” Io’s voice was filled with worry.
She swallowed impulsively and looked over her shoulder at him just as a hot flash worked through her body and sweat bloomed over her neck and chest.
Well, well, well. He was attractive. The most attractive male she had ever seen. She could swear she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn’t think straight.
“I n…need a h…hit. My d…dealer.” She struggled to sit up and crawl toward her purse.
“Hold on.” The male threw off the covers and rushed across the room and grabbed a dark brown bottle off the dresser. The bottle reminded her of prescription medicine.
“My p…purse.” She reached but fell over and rolled to her back on the bed. “Need m…my phone.” She tore into her forearms again, scratching and shivering.
“No. You won’t be calling anyone, Miriam.” The man—Io—appeared beside her, holding a cup in his hand. His voice was quiet, measured, and calm. “No more dealers. No more cobalt. Understand?” He sounded like he knew what was happening to her, but he was wrong.
Miriam stared at him, her eyes wide with anger. No, she didn’t understand. She wanted a hit. Now! Who was this male who dared tell her what she couldn’t have? She was sick and tired of people telling her what she was allowed to do and what was forbidden. Miriam wanted to live her own life. If only all the assholes would get out of her way.
Arching her back, she slapped her arms out to the side on the bed and shrieked like a banshee, outraged that this male was keeping her from what she needed. He would pay. She wouldn’t stop screaming until he gave her—
Suddenly, she sputtered and coughed as vile liquid poured into her mouth. She’d tasted something similar before. Recently. It had made her throw up. Miriam gagged and snapped her mouth closed then rolled and pounced to all fours before spitting the putrid liquid at the handsome man beside her.
He sighed and looked away before calmly wiping off his face.
Miriam bared her fangs and hissed, curling her long fingers into the blanket so that it bunched up under her hands.
“You have to drink this, Miriam.”
“Fuck you!” She smirked at him, feeling victorious. “You can’t make me.”
“I don’t
want
to make you. But I will if you force me to.”
Why was he so damn calm?
She hissed again, completely lost to her addiction. Nothing else mattered right now except getting more cobalt. Vaguely, she realized she had never felt such a strong pull toward needing the drug before, and she had a feeling that throwing up earlier was tied to her strong cravings. All she wanted was more cobalt. Everything else was secondary.
The male drank the remaining contents of the cup, his nose curling slightly as if from an unpleasant odor, and then he lunged for Miriam, picking her up and throwing her back on the bed before landing on top of her.
She tried to lash out, but somehow he had gotten hold of her wrists with one of his hands and held them down over her head. The other clamped onto her face, around her mouth, squeezing her cheeks until she couldn’t resist any longer.
Growling, her jaw gave and opened as she tried to kick herself free. The male quickly subdued her, thrusting his knees down against her thighs, and lowered his mouth to hers as if to kiss her. His mouth pressed into hers and he spit the vile liquid down her throat before pulling back and flattening his palm over her mouth before she could spit the nasty-tasting water back out at him.