Page 4 of Feral Possession

She picked up the strange-looking pen. “Where do I sign?”

“You should read it. Give it the same scrutiny you just gave me,” Steele snarled from across the room.

Dove stiffened, the shock of his appearance wearing off. She didn’t mean to stare at him and already tried to apologize. Apparently, his close call with death had done little to improve his personality. “If Vivian approved it, there’s no need. I trust her implicitly.” Usually. No. Always. Even now, Vivian had her complete trust.

Steele’s low growl conveyed his disapproval.

Vivian took mercy on her, summarizing. “Along with a non-disclosure, the contract states that you shall remain Marcus’s Chosen until such a time that he has recovered from his affliction. In exchange, he will protect you from all harm, providing for your well-being and comfort. During your stay, if you believe he isn’t fulfilling his obligations, you may enact the… pumpernickel clause.”

Dove arched a brow. “Pumpernickel?”

Vivian’s crimson lips pulled into a secretive smile. “Just a little something I added to the agreement. Consider it a safe word you may use once and only once. Say it and Marcus must supply you with transportation to any secure destination of your choosing.”

“Like Monopoly. It’s a get out of jail free card?” It made sense that Vivian would ensure Dove had an escape clause, given Vivian’s abusive history with her ex.

Vivian nodded. “You’ll need to prick your finger with the tip of the pen and sign your name in blood.”

Dove wrinkled her nose. Of course a contract between vampires would involve blood.

She signed her name as Vivian asked, then sucked the tip of her finger. While Vivian returned to Marcus, Dove scanned the document.

Pumpernickel clause. Who’d ever heard of such a thing? If anyone needed an escape clause, it was Lord Steele. She’d make sure the grouchy vampire was so tired of her by the time he was healed, he’d be more than eager to send her home. No way was she staying with him a second longer than necessary.

How long would he need her, anyway? Given the way he hid his appearance, he may be even more injured than she expected. At least her only responsibility in this was sharing a vein with him. Easy-peasy. She’d never been squeamish about such things, comfortable with her role as Chosen. The arrangement with Steele would require little effort on her part, which suited her perfectly. She preferred jobs with low expectations. That way, no one ended up disappointed, and she didn’t end up on a doorstep, suitcase in hand.

Memories stirred, shaking her composure. Her father’s face. A flash of taillights as he drove away.

“Dove?” Vivian’s voice penetrated her musings.

“Huh, yes?” Drat, she’d been so caught up in her own head she didn’t hear them talking.

“Marcus and I completed the first portion of the exchange. It’s time to finish the transfer.”

“Okay. Sure.” Dove forced her feet to return to his side. Once she stood in front of him, she locked her eyes on a shadowed painting on the wall. Fates forbid he accuse her of staring at him again.

This was it. The moment her connection to Vivian was severed. Dove curled her fingernails into her palm, her eyes stinging with tears.

It had been seven years since Vivian claimed her. Dove still cherished the memory. From the moment they were introduced, she’d been in awe of Vivian Laurent. Through some twist of fate, Vivian had wanted—no, demanded Dove become a part of her life. Vivian had rescued her from Havenhouse, an academy where underworld youth were raised. Even though Dove was two years short of the legal claiming age of eighteen, for Vivian they’d made an exception. That and they were eager to get rid of the young necromancer. She remembered the feeling of warmth and security as the bond took hold. The joy at knowing she was free of that stifling place.

Bonding with Lord Steele was none of those things.

“Let’s see this done.” He exhaled an irritated sigh. “I’ve a schedule to keep.”

He dipped his hooded face into her neck. Quick prick of his fangs, a sip of her blood, and his mark branded her skin. Next, he bit his wrist and pressed it to her lips, sharing his blood with her as well. Dove’s head swam, her body changing so no other could feed from her but Marcus.

The whole thing lasted all of thirty seconds. Like his contract, this moment of bonding felt more like a business transaction. She stifled a snort of derision. As it turned out, Lord Marcus Steele had gotten his way after all. Dove was the new Porsche he’d added to his collection. And still I feel cheap.

“Marcus, darling,” Vivian said. “Would you mind if I have a moment alone with Dove before she goes?”

“I’ll be in the car.” He leaned heavily on his cane as he limped to the door. Before exiting, he paused, uttering, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

This last part, Dove suspected was for her ears only.

She gritted her teeth. Already he gives me commands.

Vivian and Dove followed at a slower pace, exiting the sitting room and pausing in the foyer.

Once they were at the front door, Dove threw her arms around Vivian. “It doesn’t feel right, leaving you like this,” she choked out, losing the grip she had on her tears.

---