Page 56 of Feral Possession

Who was Dove to preach to him about the price of revenge? From what he’d seen, her entire life was full of rainbows and unicorns. Did she want him to erect a memorial to all those who’d been screwed by trusted friends? There wasn’t enough land. “Let me worry about the state of my eternal soul. You focus on ridding me of this thing that’s invaded my body.”

Dove grew quiet, her expression sulky. “Remember, that thing is what helped us to get free of that security guard. It’s possible it isn’t all bad.”

“Did you just dare to defend it to me?” His blood boiled, possessive urges rising. “Have you formed an attachment to the creature?” After all, the bastard had fed from her. An intimate act reserved for her benefactor.

For me. She is mine. For once, the voice in his head was strictly his own. As it should be.

“What? No.” Dove’s eyes betrayed her, darting to the left, dodging his glare.

“I’m going to check on Celeste,” Bishop grumbled, rising from his chair and heading for the door.

“Unbelievable.” Marcus stormed to the table and slammed the laptop shut.

“Now wait.” Dove hopped off the sofa, trailing after him. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Putting words in my mouth.”

The front door clicked closed on Bishop’s retreating frame. Coward.

Marcus turned on his disloyal Chosen. “Tell me you want it destroyed.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I… can’t do that.”

He seethed, nostrils flaring.

“Marcus, wait.” She stepped closer, holding her hand out. “If you could take a step back, you’d see you’re both victims here. Neither of you wanted to be tied to the other. While you feel he is trapped inside of you, the demon feels caged. In some ways, you’re the same. How is your plight more important than his when the circumstances are the same?”

He stepped closer, bearing down on her. “This discussion is over. I need to know you will put me first in this. Your allegiance is to me, not to the demon. Remember, you signed a contract. Betray me and you will never see Vivian again.”

At the threat, her face fell, hurt darkening her eyes. She stiffened, stepping back from him. He felt her withdrawal like a physical blow. Too late, he realized he didn’t enjoy seeing her light dim. Still, he needed to know where she stood. This was too important.

“You’re right,” she said in a flat tone. “We share a blood bond. I gave you my oath and signed a contract. I am sworn to put you first.”

“Good.” Gods help him. His life was in the hands of this tender-hearted necromancer, one who seemed determined to fall short of every expectation. He had little patience for her misguided sympathies. Helen had screwed him over in the worst way possible because he’d trusted her. It was a lesson he didn’t intend to repeat.

Fourteen

Firm fingers squeezed Dove’s shoulder, followed by a deliciously rumbly voice. “We’re here.”

She curled deeper into the warmth beneath her cheek. Her lungs drew in a tantalizing breath of fire-kissed linen. Like laundry dried outside on a crisp fall day. Her pillow’s low groan tickled her center, curling through her stomach. She blinked, drawing into focus an image of her hands tucked between a pair of masculine thighs.

Reality crept into her dreamy bliss. She’d fallen asleep in the back of the sedan. Marcus’s arm was slung around her. Her face pressed against his chest. She eased away just enough to peer up at him. He peered back, his eyes turbulent pools. For once, his rugged features were bared to her. His hood resting on his shoulders.

She raised her hand to his face. Slow, careful, as though she coaxed a fawn to eat from her palm. His scarred cheek was rough beneath her fingers, the texture tickling her skin. She cupped his jaw, and he shut his eyes, exhaling. When his eyes opened again, one pupil was red, the other black as if two beings stared at her. The sense of rightness settled deep in her core.

Wham!

The driver’s door slammed closed behind Bishop’s bulk. Dove sucked a startled breath and jerked her hand away. Marcus’s bodyguard circled the car, coming to stand outside the door.

Marcus stiffened, leaning away from her, guiding her upright as reality rushed in. Things had been even more strained than usual between them since their argument at the resort. They’d left immediately after. Celeste and Dove parted ways at the airport. She missed her friend terribly. Bishop and Marcus had been poor company on this trip.

She cleared her throat and smoothed her hair back. “Sorry about falling asleep on you. Hope I didn’t drool much.”

“Not much.” Marcus’s humorous tone was less than reassuring. “Let’s go,” he said as though nothing had happened. The door swung open. He grabbed his cane and exited the car. Bishop leaned in, extending a hand to her, and she accepted graciously.

Together, the three of them stood before the imposing mansion.

“Oh.” Dove sucked in a breath. Held it. Exhaled. “My.”

Bishop and Marcus remained silent beside her, eyeing the building. Before them was an architectural fright show right off the pages of Haunted Relics Inc. Exactly the kind of place she preferred to avoid. Happy spirits didn’t linger in places like this. Just the angry, bitter types.

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