Page 16 of Bonded to The Boo Hag

I could resist. It would be easy; I was stronger than he was. But he wasn’t hurting me, and I was no mind reader, but it seemed that he needed to get me out of the crowd and away from possible danger.

The fluttering in my stomach intensified.

Gatlin led us past the double doors to the VIP rooms that elite haints could rent out to feed and fuck in private.

Syd, a technology Imp, smirked at me. “Room Six is open, Mr. Duvall.”

I gaped at her, and she winked.

The world has gone mad. A mutiny. In my own club!

He led me to Room Six, slipping the holy water into his pocket before grabbing the door handle and pulling it down, holding the door open for me. After I walked past, he released me, stepped inside, and pushed the door shut. He slapped his hand on the door frame against the brass plate, signaling the room was occupied and locking it to the outside world.

The club tour was more extensive than I thought it would’ve been. I mused, turning toward the velvety green settee. The entire room was decorated in shades of green and brass in a mock Victorian style. There was a large, canopied bed and an ornate cabinet I knew was filled with new packaged sex toys: restraints, floggers, etc. My eyes skimmed over the leather sex bench and the beautiful St. Andrew’s cross.

“Why didn’t you come to dinner, Palmer?” His footsteps sounded behind me.

Stopping short of the settee, I turned around. “I wasn’t hungry,” I said simply, masking my ire and taking in his anger. “Who told you where I was?”

“That doesn’t matter,” he seethed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in his midnight blue button-down, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. That and the black slacks and belt he wore were all things I had placed in his closet.

The surge of satisfaction I felt at how handsome he looked, full of fire and wearing the clothes I selected, dampened the vexation I felt towards his actions. “You shouldn’t have come here, Gatlin. You are human and could’ve been killed.”

“If I hadn’t been there, he would have––” He closed the distance between us. I could see the worry beneath the anger.

“I would have probably killed him.” I smirked.

“Bloody Bones hypnotize their prey before…” He trailed off, a look of revulsion passing over his face.

I reached up, placing a hand on his cheek, my thumb caressing his skin. “You’ve been reading, pet. You did well to bring holy water with you tonight.”

His eyes fluttered closed as he got his breathing under control. “I also have a pocket full of iodized salt.”

“Full marks. Although we only keep sea salt at home, so where did you get it?” I praised, stepping closer and giving in to the need to card my fingers through his blond curls.

“Gemma told me what to buy. I have an anti-haint kit in my bedroom,” he mumbled.

I chuckled. “Of course she did.”

His hands came up to my hips, and I sucked in a pained breath. His eyes flew open, and I stepped back, my hands falling from his golden locks.

Gatlin cursed, seeing the bruising along my waistband. I didn’t think to stop him when he put a finger in behind the band, his digit running along my skin before he pulled down the side, exposing angry reddish-purple ovals where Attwater’s fingers had been.

“That is surprising.” I looked at the bruising with raised brows, pulling out my cellphone and taking a few pictures. “He shouldn’t have been able to affect my glamour like that. I knew he was powerful—that’s why he was able to hurt me, but to show the damage through my glamour?—”

“I will kill him,” he growled.

My stomach flipped. “No.” I grabbed his chin with one hand and tossed my phone on the settee with the other, touched by the anger in his eyes. “You don’t have to fight my battles for me, pet. I have been taking care of myself for a very long time.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of yourself around men like that,” he growled.

Oh. I felt a shimmer of arousal up my spine.

The possessiveness, which surely he didn’t mean in the way I perceived it, coupled with the righteous anger on my behalf, was really––

His hands rose higher on my waist, and I wasn’t prepared for him to move me so easily. He sat on the settee and easily maneuvered me onto his lap. His hands fell past my abused flesh to find purchase on my lower hips and held me there. “Feed.”

I jerked back, and his hands flexed gently, more of a suggestion not to move than one to force me to stay.

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