Taste me, p.11
Taste Me, page 11
Jasper’s eyes widen as he listens to Zy ramble on, as he does.
But Zy’s words just proved a point. We are his brothers, even if there are lost years between us. We know things about him that no one else ever would.
“I’ve never told anyone that story,” Jasper marvels. He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re… here? How is this possible?”
“It’s a long story, Jas,” I tell him. Even though I’ve imagined how this conversation would go a thousand times, it’s not one we can have right now.
Another scream pierces the air and Ishara jolts. “I don’t think we can stay here. My… I broke the barrier.”
“Your last scream just wiped out a bunch of them,” Zyran informs her. He grins, and I presume he’s figured out why her last scream was so powerful. “Care to scream for us again, baby?”
“No,” both Jasper and I say at the same time.
He gives me a level stare and I nod in return.
I accept that he’s Ishara’s fated mate. Sharing is something I can do, but my only requirement is that Ishara be respected in every way.
Protected.
Adored.
Worshipped.
Our witch swallows before responding. “I—Jasper, he’s my. Um.” Another blush sweeps over her pale skin as she averts her gaze. “I feel tired. I don’t think I can do it again.”
I’m not sure if she means an orgasm or using one of us as an amplifier.
“Then tell your sister it’s time for you to leave,” Jasper says. “She was able to open another portal, right? Tell her to open one for you.”
I frown, not sure who her sister is or if I like the idea of my fated mate leaving my sight. Portal spells and potions are rare, coveted, and expensive.
Then, of course, there are transportation skills like my own. Convenient, but one that comes with a hefty price.
Ishara shakes her head. “No, Jas. I’m not leaving. Not after… this.” She clenches the sheets to her chest, seeming to be referring to what they just shared.
Then she looks pointedly at Zyran and me.
“My sister won’t let any of you into Reykjavík. And even if she does, you’ll be imprisoned immediately whether she approves of it or not. Kaspian is too protective of her to let you roam free.”
Zyran raises an eyebrow and it crests over the line of his glasses. “King Kaspian? Why would he be protective of your sister?”
“Because her sister is the Gold and Garnet Queen,” Jasper growls.
We all fall into silence.
We’re mated to the queen’s sister. Great. That would have been helpful information if Daithi told us who we were targeting.
Of course, our jobs only include data on a need-to-know basis. As a soul-bound slave, I simply needed to know how to kill her. She had been portrayed as a relatively fragile target and one easy to overcome through stealth.
She is petite, but I can immediately tell by her aura of power and her intense presence that Ishara Doyle is no easy mark.
Another deathly scream rips through the air, this time much closer. The ground rumbles with the heavy weight of an army on its way.
She might not want to leave, but she can’t stay here. While removing her from danger is a priority, things have changed now that I know we’re all her fated mates.
“Maybe nobody has to leave,” I suggest as I consider our options. I turn my attention back to the beautiful witch and ignore the raking need that continues to grow inside my core.
All I want to do is rip that sheet away from her and worship her.
Taste her.
Claim her.
But I’m a vampire of reason and logic, and right now, an army is going to tear this witch apart if I don’t think fast.
“Go on,” Ishara says. Her silver eyes gauge me with so much intelligence and beauty that I’m almost rendered speechless.
I’m not often shaken, but this witch has fractured me to the core. “Daithi,” I say, only to be met with narrowed gazes. “He’s the one sending this army. If I can talk to him, maybe I can convince him of another route of action.”
Jasper yanks a pair of pants from the floor and slips them on, finally covering himself up. “You mean the asshole who just possessed my body and tried to rape Issy? No. We’re not talking to him. If I ever see his spirit again, I’m shredding it myself.”
Hearing that my captor tried to rape my mate turns my intentions murderous. The temperature in the room drops as I draw magic from the recently deceased, but more prominently the other supernaturals in my room who favor death magic. It’s not intentional. It’s just how my power works.
I’m a living containment of death—made to absorb its fatal attraction until I explode. My skin is already humming with spiritual energy after being sucked through time and space from our arrival. Luckily, the act of teleportation uses up my magical stores so I’m not in danger of imploding, but I can sense my well filling up again.
“Keep your cool, Kor,” Zyran warns.
He knows me too well.
Grounding myself, I take a few deep breaths so I don’t kill us all just because I’m pissed off. Jasper raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s nice to see you care about Issy. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to trust you, though. Not until I hear the full story of what happened and why I have been walking around with the guilt of your deaths all these years.”
Ishara gives Jasper a wide-eyed look. They slept together, making their fated-mate bond permanent, but he hadn’t even told her his darkest secret? It seems that he’s the one who shouldn’t be trusted.
A rustling comes from behind us and I turn around to find Zyran rummaging through a dresser. “It’s a shitty story,” he grumbles as he fists a pair of lacy underwear, then pulls open a new drawer.
What in the ever-loving fuck is he doing?
Ishara protests but is interrupted by Jasper’s growl. “Wait, you guys are the ones who gave me the kill order, right? Why are you involved with a dead warlock?”
Jasper might believe we’re his brothers, but he invades my personal space, showing his aggression.
“We’re soul-bound slaves to the patriarchs of the Outcast Coven,” I inform him, not holding anything back. Raising one hand, I show him my Gold and Garnet ring. “This was how he was controlling us. So rest assured, we at least have our free will back. Your life was always his bargaining chip, anyway, and he clearly can’t threaten that anymore.”
Jasper’s jaw clenches as if he’s not sure if he believes me.
Zyran ignores the rising tension in the room and offers Ishara, or Issy, a dress and the underwear he’s holding. “Here, baby girl.”
She accepts the garments and stares at him when he turns around.
I do the same.
Fated mate or not, her body is her own. If she wishes to show it to me, she will.
Although, seeing her spread open and naked is an image I’m going to live off for as long as I can. I’m a gentleman.
Not a saint.
The witch is getting dressed behind us when our time runs out. Recently killed corpses rush through the doorway, leaving blood and gore in their wake.
Zyran makes quick work of them by retrieving his weapon and swiftly removing their heads, leaving a neat pile on the floor. “Whatever we’re going to do, better hurry it up,” he says, wiping the sword on his pants. He adjusts his glasses with his free hand, keeping them perched on his nose so they don’t fall down. Just because Ishara’s power doesn’t work on us doesn’t mean ours couldn’t potentially harm her. I agree with being prudent.
“We’re going to talk to the source,” I decide aloud. “To do that, we need the death stone.” It’s a long shot that Ishara or Jasper knows where it is, but I still wish to exhaust all options before going with my emergency plan.
A magic-powered remote is in my pocket and one click would solve our problems.
It would also come with consequences I’m not yet ready to share with my fated mate. If she knows what I’m capable of, she might reject me.
But if that protects her, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.
“Death stone?” Issy says. I turn to find her fully dressed and somehow even more beautiful than before.
The dress suits her well. A gossamer layer of silk hugs her curves, leaving her pointed nipples completely visible to guide my view.
I can see why Zyran chose this dress.
“It’s how we communicate with Daithi,” I tell her.
She blinks at me a few times. “But Fallon destroyed it.”
Right, there was one in the death plane that was eliminated. While that caused some problems with the death stone we had on our end, it was just a matter of time for it to rebuild. Both sides have to be obliterated for it to truly cease to exist.
I shake my head while Zyran dispatches another wave of corpses. A spattering of gunfire warns me that we definitely don’t have much time now.
Daithi’s dead are learning.
“It’s too much to explain now, but no. It’s not destroyed.”
Ishara surprises me by running to me and clasping my shirt in her tiny fists. I can see now that she’s been fighting the fated-mate allure harder than the rest of us. There are three of us in the room. I can’t imagine the impact that might be having on her to complete the bonds and make them permanent. Fate doesn’t hold back when it chooses soul mates.
It wants the match to work and it will push all parties to comply. To give in. To indulge.
She gazes into my eyes, giving me a glimpse of her spirit that glimmers behind her silver irises. She’s hungry for me. I can see that much. But she’s holding herself back, demonstrating impressive control. “Then you’re going to help me find the death stone,” she whispers with determination, “and we’ll shatter it together. We’ll finish what my sister started.”
Her voice is soft, but her magic still hits me like a wall.
Fuck.
She’s so powerful and I wonder if she even knows it.
I place one hand on her wrist, partly to steady myself and partly because I can’t resist the urge to touch her. “If you were anyone else, I would say no. But you’re the first witch I’ve met who I think could actually pull it off.”
She’s Fallon’s sister, the only witch to have damaged part of the death stone.
It makes sense that Ishara would finish the job.
She leans in and stands on her tiptoes, bringing her lips closer to mine. “Does that mean you know where it is?”
Her words are easier to handle now that I’m touching her.
If touching her helps me learn her power, what would kissing her do?
Her lips hold me captive, enticing me to run my tongue over them before diving in for a taste. “If I knew where it was, I’d demand a kiss before I told you.”
Jasper makes a sound and Zyran is busy beheading some of our new guests, or else I am sure he’d have a quip or two to add.
Ishara licks her lips before surprising me again and leaning in.
Then there’s no distance between us, leaving me stunned by her incredible softness and delicious taste.
By all the death gods and goddesses, this witch is going to kill me.
She doesn’t hold back like I’d expect her to. She wraps her arms around my neck and deepens the kiss. Her tongue is fierce and battles mine as if testing my resolve.
Her teeth graze my fangs and all that does is make me want to bite her.
When she’s done with me, she pulls away. Her cheeks are flushed and her breaths come in short, adorable pants.
“I said if—” I began, but she places a finger over my lips.
“I know. I just wanted to kiss you.”
Definitely my fated mate.
She leans into me. “How long can your brother keep killing things? Because I’m not sure I even want to leave now.”
“We’re leaving,” Jasper grinds out, his voice husky with a slightly murderous tone to it.
He never was good at sharing.
Zyran yells and I twist enough to see that a wall of bodies has formed at the doorway, blocking our exit, and now more enemies are pushing their way through.
He’s completely coated in blood and his glasses are dangerously teetering and half-broken. “Kor. Just do it.”
“Do what?” Ishara asks against my ear. Her words send a new tremor through my body, and this time it isn’t just one of pain. Her magic awakens something else in me. After sharing a kiss, I’m learning that Ishara Doyle is going to destroy my world.
And I’ll enjoy every second of it.
“Yeah,” Jasper growls as he digs his nails into my bicep. “Do what, brother?”
Sighing, I slip my free hand into my pocket and retrieve the device.
There’s no getting around it now. Without the death stone, I can’t even attempt to negotiate with Daithi.
And after learning he not only wished to kill my fated mate but also attempted to rape her using Jasper’s body? Yeah. There won’t be any talking involved when I see him again.
Which leaves us with only one option.
“Everyone hold on to me and try not to breathe.”
Zyran grabs my arm before either Ishara or Jasper can protest.
I slam my thumb onto the button and a needle shoots out, piercing my skin and tapping into my magic. Five hundred souls thousands of miles away are instantly snuffed out.
It’s enough to activate my power.
My world turns white as ice skates up my spine, and then we’re slipping through the death plane, tunneling our way back to New York.
Back to the prison I’ve called home.
Forgive me, Ishara Doyle.
But after seeing you for myself, I would kill the world for you.
Chapter 16
Issy
What’s happening?
My stomach drops as complete silence engulfs me for the first time in my life.
I never realized how loud the spirits were until they were completely muted.
Jasper had quieted the screams of the dead, but this is what true peace is supposed to feel like.
One problem. It’s the kind of peace that’s supposed to come with death.
But I’m not dead. I’m very much alive and my body hums with all-consuming desire.
It doesn’t slip past me that all three of my fated mates are touching me right now while something incredible happens.
I’m not sure what. I just know that we’re no longer in Lapland.
We’re not anywhere—and yet we’re everywhere. The sensation is disorienting, but Korenlius looks at an invisible horizon as if he knows exactly where we’re going.
I’m still clinging to him while Jasper has crowded my back and presses up against me. I can feel his protectiveness as if he’s trying to shield me from the void of yawning nothingness all around us.
The one named Zyran is touching me, too. His fingers have slipped through my hair and he’s pressing a kiss to my temple. It feels like a natural motion and also a promise.
A promise that he’s not going to be missing out while his brothers have all the fun.
Spirits. I’m mated to three brothers.
Three very hot and dangerous vampire brothers with death magic.
Their magic surrounds me like a violent wave as we travel through this unseen place. My soul feels like liquid fire inside my chest, eager to shoot free and discover everything that comes after a mundane life.
Although, my life is anything but mundane now. I’m ready to explore my future, especially if it includes three vampires who would move heaven and earth for me.
I realize that’s exactly what’s happening when we land. The one called “Kor” barks orders while blue flames threaten to consume me.
Out of habit, I clamp down my scream. I don’t know where we’ve wound up or who could be nearby. Using my voice always gets me into trouble, not to mention I could kill someone who doesn’t deserve it.
There could be children nearby. I’d never forgive myself if I harmed a child.
The scream is lodged in my throat as I wrap my arms around myself and bear it.
Jasper draws me into his chest while Kor shouts at him, but it does the trick.
His death touch steadies me and wipes out the flames, leaving me trembling and surprisingly cold.
I blink up at him, not sure exactly what happened, but then the sounds of the living invade my senses.
A siren blasts, its whine echoing against stone walls.
Men shout and a woman’s scream rips through my core, making me look around.
We’ve landed in the middle of a busy foyer. There are couches framed by fancy statues and furniture while chandeliers release a bright golden glow to the enormous room.
It would be a beautiful place, if not for all the bloodied bodies strewn about.
I don’t dare speak, but when someone runs up to Kor, I realize what’s happened.
“We’ve been attacked,” a male says. He has a sense of authority even though he’s young. The look he gives Kornelius suggests we’re not supposed to be here. “Who are they?”
Kornelius gives the youth a respectable nod. “Daithi’s betrothed and fated mate,” he says without missing a beat. When the other male takes a step back, Kornelius puts a hand in his pocket and pulls something out. He blurs an instant later, his superior vampiric speed making him too fast for me to stop him as he slips something around my neck and it locks into place.
“Her mute collar is on. It’s safe.”
I graze the icy metal with my fingers as my eyes widen. An instant rush of cool energy sweeps over me, making me shiver. Have I been betrayed?
I don’t see any children or innocents in the vicinity to keep me silent. Only misogynistic males who want to control women.
“What is this?” I ask.
Nothing happens. No one dies. No one reacts.
The male gives me a sinister grin. “He finally did it. He finally made her a fucking restraint for that damn power of hers.”
I was forcibly muted before by the patriarchs, but I had never worn a collar. That magic never existed. Nothing has ever been able to tame my voice, or else it would have been a simple matter to silence me so I didn’t have to hide in a basement.
