Blood Bound (Monster Apocalypse #3)

Chapter 1

Rain beat down in sheets and hammered against the kitchen window to our left, but Inkiri’s body radiated warmth. We were sitting on a bench from which we might’ve had a great view of the rural landscape outside, but there wasn’t much to see in this weather.

There was a chicken on the kitchen table in Donna’s farmhouse, and she was looking at my bagu mate, her beady eyes bright, her mottled gray feathers freckled with white. She wore little chicken pants with hearts on them.

Inkiri clicked—possibly at both me and the chicken—and ran his hand over me, double-checking that the blanket was drawn tight around me. The chicken clucked at Inkiri and lifted a clawed foot as if she were about to jump into his lap, except of course I was in that lap.

Donna was at the counter between the large fridge and induction hub and filling an espresso maker with ground coffee, her head half-turned, her long brown hair in a braid over one shoulder.

“I’ll be honest with you, Rory, you looked like a corpse who’d foregone the beautifying appointment with the mortuary technician when they brought you here.” Donna glanced at me.

“Yes, you were very pale, Sadir.” Inkiri used the opportunity to lick my neck. “Everyone was worried.”

My throat constricted. I remembered the streets of Esaka, the chaos, the Koa Esher… Or maybe I could call them cola asshats now that Vergis’s dad had approved of my abuse of the Lugarran language.

At any rate, I remembered the magic and that voice in my head saying something about how the same magic that had saved Nokim and Vergis might hurt me so badly that some rest—well, a three-day-long time-out, in this case—wouldn’t make me better.

I shuddered to think what the magic could have done to me. Could it have made me sleep forever?

I didn’t want to share that with Inkiri, so I swallowed past the lump in my throat and wiggled around under my blanket.

“Yeah, but look.” I pointed at myself when I’d successfully extricated my hand from the folds.

The chicken followed my fingers with her black eyes, making low chicken noises.

“I’m all better now. Uhm, Donna, do you think I could take a quick shower here?

” The thing was, even if Inkiri had cleaned me up with a cloth back in the tent, he still produced a lot of…

just a lot. Of stuff. Well, cum was the stuff he produced a lot of, and it was still trickling out of me.

It wasn’t the most comfortable of sensations.

She looked back over her shoulder. “Sure, honey. There’s a bathroom upstairs with fresh towels in the cabinet.”

Inkiri huffed and clicked. “I will take care of you.” He stood.

Still with me in his arms, which seemed a bit excessive.

I also maybe kind of liked it. My mate’s nearness was such a huge comfort, but I was pretty sure I could stand and do stuff.

I knew I needed more rest after the drain of the magic, but I could do this.

I put one freed hand on Inkiri’s chest. “I’m fine. Put me down. I can shower by myself, Ink. I told you, privacy in the bathroom is a human thing.”

“But, Sadir—”

Donna turned to face Inkiri, who was some two heads taller than her. “What have we been talking about when it comes to randomly carrying people?” She crossed her arms, but she didn’t even need the gesture. She was already radiating unflinching authority.

Inkiri made a purring noise with only a hint of a growl in there, but he ended it with a soft click. “But, Donna, this is my mate. He’s so frail. He—”

“Oh, put him on his feet, you overgrown blue goat,” she said.

Inkiri huffed, but slowly, and with extreme care, put me down. His hands lingered, indigo cat eyes searching my face for any hint that I’d forgotten how legs worked all of a sudden.

“I’m fine,” I told him. And myself. The verbal confirmation was good.

“I brought fresh clothes for you.” Inkiri went to the bagu-made backpack sitting on the floor and pulled it open. It was a pretty big one, the kind of size hikers would like, and it looked heavy. “It’s shibiya. You liked those before.”

“I did. I do. Thanks for packing for me.”

Inkiri frowned as he rifled through the backpack. “It’s a small thing, Sadir.”

I curled my toes in my cat socks as I stood there and looked around the kitchen. The farmhouse was an old building, like so many in Ireland. There were exposed wooden beams in the ceiling, and the copper pots looked like they’d been here for no less than a century.

There were four chairs around the generous kitchen table in addition to the bench running underneath the window, which was framed by blue and white checkered curtains.

Also, there was that chicken. She behaved like she belonged in this kitchen, eyeing all of us as if we were intruding on her day.

She looked pretty happy on the table, which made me wonder if she knew what humans did to her kind on kitchen tables.

The rest of the house seemed pretty quiet. I scratched my head. Ugh. My hair needed a good dose of shampoo. “Hey, where are the rest of the guys?”

“Good point.” Donna turned back to her espresso maker. “Why did you only bring the acquired taste and his daddy?”

I smirked at Donna calling Vergis that. I was beginning to suspect he wasn’t as bad as he pretended to be though. Maybe. Even if he was still plenty murderous. After all, he’d used a bear as a weapon, so at the very least, he was happy to facilitate carnage. Also, he’d killed that bear.

Inkiri pulled a set of clothes like the ones the hotel had given us out of the backpack—a light gray shirt and darker pants. The material looked silky soft and reminded me of Aer. I already missed Aer. With any luck, we’d go back soon.

Inkiri handed me the clothes. “The others are all back in Canada with Vergis’s human father. We decided to split up so they could watch over Charles while we would find out whether Kinnek’s theory was accurate or not.”

I ran a hand over the clothes. The fabric was smooth against my skin, like silk, but unlike silk, it didn’t feel cool to the touch. I wanted to snuggle up in those clothes and ask my mate to wrap me in his arms. Then I’d ask if we could go back to Aer already.

“Charles is Vergis’s other dad? The human one?” I asked.

Inkiri nodded. “Yes. Why? You know him?”

“What have I been explaining about humans not all knowing one another, Inkiri?” Donna said, and I smiled. I liked Donna.

I still shook my head, not wanting to embarrass Inkiri. “I don’t know him, but I just… I thought his father would be a Rambo. Or a Rocky, you know?”

Donna cackled. “I’d like to think you’re talking about Rocky Horror. Golly, I could use something campy right about now, and imagining Vergis in drag just about does it.”

My eyes widened, and I grinned at Donna. Musical theater wasn’t my thing on the stage, but I loved watching it as much as any gay theater major would. “Glitter and a wig.” I raised my other hand and wiggled my fingers. “And nails.”

Donna’s eyes sparkled. The chicken clucked.

Inkiri cocked his head. “I am not sure what you’re talking about. Rory, didn’t you say camping was bad?”

Donna and I stared at each other in silence for about three seconds, then we couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

Inkiri looked back and forth between us a little helplessly, and the chicken saw her opening, so she jump-fluttered off the table and took a step toward him.

My bird-loving mate reached down to pick her up and started stroking her tiny chicken head even as Donna and I gave in to the belly-aching laughter.

“Can you explain camp to him while I take a shower?” I asked after I finally stopped laughing and headed to the creaky wooden staircase that separated the large kitchen from the living room and conservatory beyond. Well, Ireland clearly made farming fancy.

Donna huffed. “Oh, honey, I’m good, but I don’t know that I’m that good. I’ll try though.”

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard my mate’s confused huff. “What does he want, Donna? Tell me.”

“Inkiri, dear, come here. Like every good story, the tale of camp starts with ‘Once upon a time…’”

I smiled to myself, almost sad I was about to miss Donna telling the tale of camp.

But this was good. We’d gone from a city that was being overrun by white-clad magical a-holes to explaining the intricacies and aesthetics of camp to the bagua.

To laughing, too. When the cola ash people had been about to take Vergis, laughter had been about the furthest thing from my mind.

Life was good. Now it just had to stay that way. Or, ideally, maybe I could get things back on track by becoming Inkiri’s trophy mate. It was a more realistic life goal than the acting had been, that was for sure.