CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE || THIERRY
I f anyone had told me I’d ever be next to Jeremy, actually sitting in my feelings with him, I would have laughed them off. Or else politely give them the number for a hotline.
Because… no. Just no.
Except here I was, becoming a weepy mess after hundreds of years of icy stoicism. And all because he said he thought I was a good person. Someone he didn’t want to hurt. Which was rather silly.
But that wasn’t really why.
It was because he’d made me feel seen and understood in a way I hadn’t since Nicolas and I were young—long before either of us became vampires. Nathaniel and Simone were my oldest friends, but they never challenged the persona I projected, the one I half believed in myself.
First Michael, now Jeremy. I was getting soft in my old age.
And Jeremy said he didn’t want to hurt me. And I believed him. That was worse. I was in deep trouble, because I suddenly couldn’t remember why I was supposed to hate him .
Even worse, Jeremy just sat there and let me process. He didn’t try to stop me from having my emotions—or, worse yet, make me talk until I was ready to set us both on fire to put an end to it.
After several minutes of silence, he got up, crossed the living room, and headed for my bathroom. A moment later, he came back with a wadded-up ball of toilet paper.
Mutely, he handed it to me.
I said nothing, but felt a tangle of relief, gratitude, and annoyance as I took the tissues and dabbed my eyes.
“They’re just ordinary tears,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Just like anyone else’s.”
I snorted. “You were expecting me to cry blood, weren’t you? You’ve seen too many vampire movies.”
He shrugged but didn’t answer. After that, he gave me another stretch of time—I don’t know if it was one minute or five—to collect myself. And I needed every second. I hadn’t cried in a very long time, and I wasn’t used to the jagged, wrung-out way it left me feeling.
“Fine,” I said at last, looking up. He was watching me steadily—not concerned or put off by my display of emotion. Instead, he was just sitting there in the discomfort with me. The bastard. I sighed. “I probably don’t hate you either.”
He smiled, and his eyes crinkled in a guileless way that set fireworks off in my stomach. I could feel the closeness thrumming between us, brought on by the strange intimacy of having dropped my guard and him not stepping on me for it. My standards were probably lower than they should have been.
“We’ll start there,” he said, a little ruefully. “I don’t hate you, and you don’t hate me.”
“I’m still not sure I like you,” I lied. Because the idea of him leaving—returning to his pack, who would surely need him before long—was already causing a sliver of anxiety in my gut. I’d grown too used to him, far too quickly.
He nodded solemnly. “Something occurred to me, and I want to run it past you.”
Something in his tone set off alarm bells. “If you have to ask permission, I’m not sure I want to know.”
“You probably don’t,” he admitted. “But I think I have to put it on the table if I want any sort of fair relationship with you.” And then, horribly, I knew what he was going to say before he did. “I think we need to finish the blood bond.”
I stared at him, waiting for the punch line.
“You want me to…”
He gave me a rueful smile. “I trust you enough to let you bite me.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“Which I never thought I would. And definitely not this soon.” He exhaled slowly, then drew another breath.
“But I think it’ll make this a lot less terrible for both of us, if you know what I’m thinking and feeling too. ”
“Blood bonds are permanent. I’d be in your head. Always. You’d have no secrets from me.”
He shrugged. “It would make things even. And you wouldn’t abuse it. You haven’t used your hypnotic powers to make me go away, even though you could have.”
Indignation flared. “Just because I have standards that don’t include forcing people to do what I want—”
“No, that’s pretty much it in a nutshell.” He nodded like I’d proved his point. “And you’ve got to admit it’s not right that I can get into your head, but you can’t get into mine. If I can see that, you can too. I’m saying this ought to be fair.”
I had started the bond accidentally, to save his life. I couldn’t regret it. Jeremy wasn’t who I’d thought he was at all. But that didn’t mean I should force him to open himself to me for eternity just for fairness’ sake.
“That’s not the only reason you’d do it,” Jeremy said, obviously reading my mind again. “You’d trust me a lot more if you knew what I was thinking. And hell, even if you did want to run, it would put us on even ground if you knew when I was coming. It gives you your power back in this situation.”
I had to admit it was an excellent point. Put like that, I should have jumped at the chance to protect myself.
My gaze dipped to his neck. What would it be like to know Jeremy’s thoughts? His innermost feelings? To know I never had to be alone again?
If someone had asked me a week ago if I’d willingly enter a blood bond with anyone—much less Jeremy, who had hunted James last year—I would have told them they were out of their mind.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
It sounded almost… nice.
What the hell was happening to me?
“So what?” I demanded, aiming for indignation since I couldn’t muster anger. “In your mind, we’ve just skipped right over the first date straight into being bound for all eternity?”
“I told you, wolves move fast.” Jeremy flashed me a grin—but there was a naked longing in his eyes I wasn’t sure I liked. “But we don’t have to do it now. I’m just saying, when you’re ready, so am I. And I think we ought to.”
By the time he finished, his grin was gone. He just looked at me. Not pushing—just saying it, entirely earnest, which was almost worse. If he had pushed, I could have gotten angry. I rather liked being angry at Jeremy. It was far safer than… whatever this was.
“We should check on Quinn,” Jeremy said after a long pause. “I’m sure the others are worried you’ve been eaten by the big bad wolf.”
With that, he got up and started across the room.
I stood, feeling off-kilter at the abrupt shift. I felt equal parts relieved and annoyed that we weren’t making a mistake here, after all. Either a sexy one or a bound-for-all-eternity one.
Or both.
Jeremy paused at the door and glanced back, unreadable. “When we seal the blood bond, it won’t just be me who wants it. And when we have sex again, it won’t be a mistake. But we’re not doing it until you say we can. I don’t want it unless you’re all in.”
I didn’t have the benefit of getting inside his head. But his heart thumped in his chest like a bloody metronome. Which meant he wasn’t lying to me.
A mix of longing and warning fluttered in my chest. Ridiculous. I barely knew him. And he wasn’t someone I should want to know.
I gave him my nastiest, iciest smile. But that was mostly just a habit. “Do me a favor. Hold your breath until that happens.”
But despite my words, there was no denying it: I was in trouble. I also wasn’t sure I cared about that nearly as much as I should have.
* * *
Quinn bolted past us the moment I opened the dungeon door, moving in a blur that knocked Jeremy and me both to the ground.
There was a split second to react, and I used it to pull Jeremy closer, taking the brunt of the fall. He might’ve been less breakable than a human, but he was still mortal—and the floor was concrete. Hitting his head wouldn’t have been especially healthy for him.
I was so startled, I didn’t even try to stop Quinn.
Jeremy and I hit the ground hard. My shoulder blade slammed into the concrete first, and I felt a bone snap on impact.
Breath hissed between my teeth as pain enveloped my shoulder, radiating across my back. But Jeremy was securely tucked in my arms, warm and solid on top of me, pressing me down deliciously, his clean-grass scent everywhere—far too reminiscent of the first night we’d met.
With my good arm, I pushed him off.
The bones in my shoulder knitted together a moment later, and I shoved myself to my feet.
Simone and Poppy stood frozen in the center of the dungeon, staring at the open doorway where we’d fallen. To their credit, only a handful of seconds had passed.
I looked past them to find Quinn’s chair empty, shattered silver chain scattered around it. Silver saps a vampire’s strength and speed—no one could have broken free of it without help.
The chain lay in three pieces.
Impossible.
“Fuck,” I said succinctly.
Jeremy climbed to his feet, and I gave him a quick once-over to make sure he wasn’t injured before darting after Quinn.
* * *
“This isn’t what I had in mind for the evening’s activities,” Jeremy sighed, gesturing at the shipping containers towering around us. “We’ve been at this for hours.”
“This isn’t a date,” I retorted. “I hope you’re aware of that.”
“I never said it was.” He shot a bemused look in my direction. “Still, remind me to take you somewhere nice eventually. A place with fewer rats. And no murderous vampires.”
I glowered in his direction, which felt like answer enough. He didn’t look nearly as put off as he should have.
“You’re adorable when you’re trying to be scary. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Anyone who dared wouldn’t try it again,” I replied hotly. “And no one’s forcing you to be here. Don’t you have other, better things to do?”
“Not really.”
“You’ve got a pack to run,” I reminded him, my annoyance fading far too quickly. “Surely they’re wondering where you are.”
I didn’t know much about wolves—they kept to themselves more than any other race of supernatural creatures. But I did know they valued pack above almost anything.
“They’re not,” Jeremy muttered. “And trust me, no one there really wants me to come back.”
Then his mouth snapped shut, and he gave me a worried sidelong look, as though wondering how much trouble he’d just gotten himself into.
“And why is that?”