Page 8 of The Gathering
He closed his eyes, breathing through a sickening adrenalin. What did she do?
“I drank his blood,” she blurted in a pained hiss, nails digging into his forearms.
“Iknowyou did,” he seethed, eyes still closed, chest in a fucking vice. “What thefuckelsedid you do?”
“Nothing!” she swore, while all the dirty details lingered in her gasps. “I don’t know why I did it!” she strained around a sob. “But… it seemed like I was supposed to!”
He stilled at that tormented confession. Supposed to. Did he fucking make her somehow?
Fresh rage locked his jaw tight. “Why the guilt?” he barely managed, forcing himself to look at her.
Half a headshake. “Because it was… it felt so wrong.” He picked up her barely breathed words along with her raging pulse, both too loud in his ears and cock.
“Youfeelmy anger for him,” he muttered, back to pissed. “Do you also feel the connection he’s made with you? BecauseI.Fucking.Can.”
Their eyes locked and all the details he never wanted churned in her tormented gaze. “What are you going to do?” she whispered. “I just... I really don’t think it was his fault either.”
Likefuckit wasn’t. “I’m going to have acivilchat with him.”
Her breath flew out. “You aresonot civil right now,” she hissed quietly. “I’m not blind!”
Fuck, her worry for thatprickwas undoing him. Fast. “Go find Mah-Mah. She has news only she can tell you. I won’tkillhim,” he said, wanting to spit on the words the second they left his mouth.
She grabbed him and pulled his mouth to hers, shoving his rage aside with her lips and tongue. He dug his fingers into her sweet face and turned her mouth into a last meal before the most unholy war.
He broke the kiss when he sensed him. The bastard. Approaching from behind.
Sinrik.
He cradled his wife’s head against his chest and raised his gaze. His fingers tensed around her skull as he passed him. He met the stare lasered in on him. Like he was a fucking target he wanted to take out.
“ReadyKing?” he murmured without breaking stride. All silk and snake. Eyes blazing, drilling deep.
Ruthless power coated Bishop’s muscles at the silent challenge.More ready than ever, you walking grave sack.
Beth’s fingers pulled his face back to her,almostbreaking the rage bond. She pled with her fretful gaze then pulled his mouth to hers again, sending Sinrik on his way. On his jealous way. Bishop saw it crystal fucking clear. He burned with the look of a man who’d staked a claim. Bishop couldn’t wait to crush whatever sick delusions he had. Walking in his swamps like he fucking owned it, like he fucking ownedher.
He focused on his angel’s kiss, groaning with the hunger she carved into his burning chest.I’m yours. Forever.That’s what her sweet kiss confessed. And that’s what his soul fucking knew. Even as he contemplated Sinrik’sguiltand the methods he’d use to extract every filthy detail of it.
****
Bacon hit Phelony’s number realizing he wasn’t the only one watching his pissed Eveque at the far end of the room. Bishop’s barely contained fury reached every one of his Twelve now locked in and watching their Eveque. Waiting for a sign. A signal. Aflicker.Their muscles set on a hair-trigger of blood lust for that Mayhem cocksucker swaggering his ass right in their fuckin’ midst.
“Finally!” Phelony answered, a hot whisper in his ear.
“Bee-bee,” he whispered back, eyes still locked on the Sin-prick entering the hallway where Bishop was with his wife. “You’re not gonna fuckin’ believe this.” His adrenalin flipped to go-go green when his brothers all moved toward the target now in motion.
“Tell me!” she cried.
Bacon’s pulse rammed as he headed in for slick-dick who muttered something to Eveque in the hall. “Hoe-lee fuck,” he quietly warned, muscles locked as Bullets and Shank moved in faster.
“What!” Phelony pled.
“Bacon!”
Bacon’s legs locked up at the unmistakable boom of Seer’s voice. He shot a glance behind him, then back at Bishop who was lip-locked with his Belle Eveque.
“Bee-Bee, where are you?” he hurried, seeing Sinrik leaving.
