Ecstasy in Darkness

His eyes widened as realization struck. Hellina was a vampire. His blood had truly changed her. Impossible, he thought next.



“Where do you want Noelle?” Devyn asked from behind him. The warrior must have spied Hellina, because he laughed. “Your girlfriend’s dog hates you. Priceless.”



Realizing there was another person to snack on, Hellina switched her focus, launching at Devyn’s ankles and biting.



Devyn howled. “What the hell?” He kicked out his leg, trying to shake the hungry dog loose but not succeeding.



“She’s a new vampire,” McKell said, “and she’s hungry. Needs to feed.” Even uttering the words was odd.



“I don’t give a shit about Ava or Noelle being a vampire and hungry right now. I only feed Bride. Now get the dog—”



“The dog is the vampire. Hellina, stop.” To his ever-increasing shock, the dog instantly obeyed, removing her teeth from Devyn’s leg. She panted up at McKell, adoration in her big eyes, blood dripping from her mouth.



Did she have to obey him because of their blood connection?



He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating the possibility. It never should have happened, shouldn’t have been possible. Or did she simply love him and want to please him, as all females should? There would be time to sort that out later. After Ava was healed.



Ava. “Stay,” he told Hellina as he carted Ava to her bedroom. “And put Noelle on the couch,” he threw over his shoulder.



He eased Ava onto the bed, gently, softly, and she gave another of those pained moans. Perhaps he should have taken her to a hospital, but he’d known he could do more for her than anyone else.



And he would turn her if necessary. He hadn’t known that was a possibility until seeing Hellina, but he’d meant to feed Ava his blood, anyway, mating them. Despite her absolute trust in him. He’d felt that trust as he’d lifted her from the ground, and it had sliced him like a fang. That wouldn’t have stopped him, though. Nothing would have, not when it came to saving her.



He’d once worried about her shorter lifespan, and had later discarded the worry, uncaring that she would age as long as they were together while she lived. But seeing her so … broken, and feeling himself break in kind, he’d convinced himself that mating with her would twine them, their lifespans. She would live as long as he did, and he would live as long as she did.



Except, even with such a hope, he hesitated now. If he did this, she would hate him. He didn’t want her to hate him. But he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from acting much longer. She was covered in so much blood, so pale, so still, and he was … worried. Yes, that was the tightening in his chest, making a complete mockery of his anger. He should be screaming at this woman for placing herself in danger.



That’s part of who she is. A danger seeker. Deal with it, or lose her forever.



He felt rather than heard Devyn and Bride approach. They stopped, one on each side of him, and peered down at Ava. If either one of them reached out, he would cut off their arms.



“So. How do you have a vampire dog?” Bride asked casually. To distract him? “Don’t get me wrong, I can guess. I’m all-powerful, after all, but I’d really like to hear you say it.”



Devyn shook his head. “All-powerful. Please. Mia told me what his blood can do, and I told you.”



“That isn’t important right now,” McKell snarled. “How do I heal Ava without giving her my blood?” If there was a way, he’d take it. If not, he would just have to risk her wrath.



“I can give her my blood,” Bride suggested.



“No,” Devyn said with a firm shake of his head—before McKell could issue his own denial. “I’m tired of everyone getting a piece of you. The humans infected by the Schön, AIR agents, your friends. There has to be a line, and you’ve already given some today.”



“No,” McKell finally got to say aloud. If Ava had anyone’s blood, it would be his. Still. There had to be another way.



“My blood won’t turn her into a vampire,” Bride said. “As Devyn said, a lot of people have sampled it, and none of them have turned.”



Ava moaned, and he suddenly found himself wavering, possessiveness giving way to protectiveness. Damn it. She trusted him to keep her human, and that was a stronger deterrent than he’d realized. “What if you’re wrong?”



“Devyn has a sip everyday, and look at him. Pure arrogance and sex appeal, but no fangs. And there’s no danger that she’ll ever have a chance to feed me her blood, binding us for life.”



“Because you’re already bonded for life,” Devyn said, his voice stern. “And don’t you dare try to get out of it again.”



Bride rolled her eyes. “I only tried to leave you, what? Four times? Cut me some slack. Anyway,” she said to McKell. “She’ll heal quickly, and her pain will ease. I promise.”



The thought of Ava healed … “She has to agree.”



“Then wake her up and ask her already. Although waking her up will only cause her to thrash, and the thrashing could injure her worse. And if she’s injured worse, the healing will take a lot longer. But it’s your call.” Bride reached out, as if to smooth Ava’s hair from her brow.



McKell hissed at her, and she held her hands up, all innocence. How had he ever thought himself in love with this woman? She was annoying. “Give your blood to Noelle first. I want to see how she reacts.”



“Two patients now?” Devyn gave another shake of his head, dark hair falling over his brow and hiding the natural sheen of glitter in his skin. “No. That’s where I draw the line, Bride. You were stumbling around earlier, so you need every drop you’ve got for yourself.”



She patted his cheek. “I’ll just be a few minutes.” She strode from the room, leaving McKell alone with a sputtering Devyn.



“You owe me for this,” the Targon muttered. “She’s going to be weak when she’s done, and that will seriously ruin my plans for later.”



The man had the nerve to complain while Ava lay a few feet away, not really dying but cutting it close? At least, that’s what he told himself. Otherwise, he would have been clawing at the walls.



“Make yourself useful,” McKell snapped at him. “Her cupboards and refrigerator are nearly bare. Fill them.”



Devyn’s amber eyes widened. They were lighter than Ava’s, but close enough in color that McKell decided the bastard could live. “You want me to shop?”



“Yes. And she loves butterscotch. Buy her as much butterscotch as you can find. She’ll want a treat when she wakes up.” Because he planned to yell at her, maybe make her cry, and the food would comfort her when he was done, his concern and anger appeased.



“You’re serious?”



“Why would I lie about butterscotch?”



“Dear God, you’re clueless. I meant, you’re serious about expecting me to shop for your woman’s treats? Won’t she like them better if you buy them?”



“No. They’ll still taste the same, and besides that, I don’t have any money. In fact, I’m going to need you to open me an account.” One of Ava’s requirements for a man had been “rich.” “I want enough money to last an eternity making this woman happy.”



Devyn scrubbed a hand down his face. “So I’m your sugar daddy now?”



“You took my woman,” he reminded the man. Yet the words tasted … wrong. He didn’t like referring to Bride as his woman anymore. She wasn’t. Never had been. Not really.



“She was never yours,” Devyn growled in his first real show of anger.



“I know. And I’m glad. I like the one I have. Now help me keep her.”



That drained the anger right out of the Targon. “Fine. I’ll make a few calls and have shit delivered, but I am not leaving you alone with Bride. And I’ll also open you an account, but that’s the last favor I’m doing for you.”



“Until I think of something else for you to do. Like buying me clothing.” He nodded, realizing he did indeed need new clothes. “I like what you’re wearing, though I’ll probably need a bigger size.” His gaze dropped to Devyn’s waist. “A lot bigger. And make sure to get me something for every day of the week.”



“Good Lord.” Devyn was shaking his head as he withdrew his phone and started making those calls. He stated his demands simply, expecting absolute compliance from everyone he spoke to. He probably got it, too. McKell admired his authoritative superiority.



McKell sat beside Ava, careful not to disturb her. He failed. She groaned and rolled toward him, as if she’d been waiting for him. He twined their fingers, not liking how cold her skin was, how slow her pulse.



Finally Bride returned to the bedroom, Noelle at her side. Noelle was still pale, a little shaky, but she was on her feet and still human. Relief flooded him. Ava wouldn’t be able to find fault with his choice for her. He hoped.



“Is she—” Noelle began.



“She’ll be fine,” he snapped. “What were you thinking, fighting vampires without me? Do you have any idea—”



“Lecture her later. I have business to attend to now.” Bride strode forward, shaky herself, and eased on Ava’s other side.



McKell held her arms down, just in case she awoke during the transfusion and tried to push Bride away. “Do it,” he gritted out. “Feed her.”



Bride unsheathed a knife from her side and slashed her wrist over a still-healing scab. Grimacing, she held the now dripping wrist over Ava’s pretty mouth. Closed pretty mouth. Bride dropped the knife and used her freed fingers to pry those lips apart.



He tensed a little more with every drop that slid home. Don’t blame me for this. Don’t you dare blame me. If she did, he’d … what? He didn’t know.



“We never would have worked out, you know,” Bride said. “You’re too bossy and, well, selfish.”



“And you’re not Ava.”



“Yes, there is that.”



An eternity passed while the vampire’s blood continued to drip, but soon Ava began to swallow on her own. Still another eternity passed while Bride straightened, withdrew her arm, and they waited. And waited.



Finally, Ava’s eyelashes fluttered open, and those dark eyes scanned the room, confusion in their depths. Several more minutes passed while she oriented herself. He waited, stiff.



“McKell,” she croaked out.



Hearing her voice, he knew beyond any doubt that she would be okay, that her throat was healing. “Leave,” he said.



Her brow furrowed. “But this is my house. Isn’t it?”



“Not you. Everyone else, leave.” He didn’t look away from her. “Now.” He wanted to explain what had been done to her without an audience. Meaning, he wanted to subdue her when she attacked him without an audience. She was going to blame him; there was no denying that now.



Footsteps sounded. A dog barked. From the living room, he heard Noelle say, “What’s Hellina doing here? Come on, baby.” Pause. “Come on.” Another pause. “Why’s she ignoring me? And why is she staring at the pulse in my neck?”



Bride and Devyn must have dragged her out, because the door finally snickered closed.



Ava watched him the entire time, rubbing her now scabbed-over neck.



“The vampires injured you,” he began, bracing himself. “Bride Targon gave you her blood to repair the damage.”



He waited for the explosion of temper.



“Oh, okay,” Ava said, gingerly sitting up and resting her weight on her elbows. The cut on her arm had yet to fully close, and she winced.



“That’s all you have to say to me?”



“Well, yeah.”



Perhaps she didn’t understand what had happened. “I fed you another vampire’s blood. In your mouth, down your throat. You drank it.”



“Yeah, and her blood has been given to many AIR agents already, so I know I can handle it.”



All his worry, and that was her reaction? He jackknifed to his feet and paced in front of the bed. “Since you can handle so much, let’s begin with your apology. But before you do, allow me to instruct you on everything you need to apologize for. You stunned me, left me in unfamiliar surroundings with unfamiliar people who could have tried to kill me.”



“Now listen—”



“I wasn’t done! Then you fought vampires. Even though you knew how dangerous they could be!” He was screaming now and couldn’t temper his voice. “You almost died. How dare you almost die, Ava! You did not have permission to do that.”



She blinked at him. “I need permission to die?”



“Silence!” Every time she spoke, his anger only intensified. “Your arm was mangled, and I thought you’d never be able to use it again. Your neck was savaged, and I thought you’d … I thought you’d …” He couldn’t even say the words.



“You did not,” was her only reply.



Anger … intensifying … He wanted her screaming back at him, concerned, worried, something. “The arm was almost a deal breaker, but I decided you could still please me with the other one.”



Her eyes narrowed, and he thought he had her, but all she said was, “The injury wasn’t that bad.”



So. Much. Anger. His hands fisted. Without a word, he stalked to the bed, hefted her over his shoulder, and carted her to the shower stall. He dumped her inside and left her there, slamming the door behind him.



“Don’t come out until you’re ready to apologize for everything!”