Bound Read online

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  Sophie Oak

  Irish lore. Gaelic was the ancient language of Ireland. While she was

  bound in the tent, she had decided to use a little of her old literature

  training to figure out what Beck was. It was obvious he didn’t think of

  himself as human. From the way the gnomes treated him, Meg had

  come to the conclusion that he was a faery of some kind. From the

  looks of him, he was more than likely a sidhe. They were the human-

  looking faeries and the ruling class. She wondered which tribe he

  came from. Human myths broke the Fae into two tribes, the Seelie

  and the Unseelie. The Seelie were the blessed, shining ones while the

  Unseelie held all the monsters the Fae had to offer. She rather thought

  him a Seelie. She hadn’t gotten a look at his ears. According to some

  lore, they should be slightly pointed. Of course, not all myths were

  proving true in this strange place. The vampire was proof of that since

  he was walking around in the daylight.

  “Hey, vampire guy, shouldn’t you be all crispy and fried by

  now?” Meg asked bluntly because he seemed like a blunt kind of

  man.

  Dellacourt stopped in his tracks and laughed. “Damn, she really is

  from the Earth plane. Darling, the vampires there are idiots who got

  lost and couldn’t find their way back. I read all the DLs on the

  subject. Horrifying stuff, really. You see, your sun is different. It has a bad effect on my kind, see? It puts us into a weird fugue state during

  the daylight hours, and if we get caught in it, we sort of explode.” He

  shuddered. “And apparently, the animals there aren’t fit for

  consumption, so they end up eating a diet made up entirely of human

  blood. Though I’ve heard your kind tastes spectacular, sweetheart.

  I’ve often thought that if I could get a trade route onto the human

  plane, I could make a ton of money selling human blood.”

  Rhys pressed on. “Go away, Dellacourt. You’re scaring the girl.”

  “Mr. Dellacourt doesn’t scare me exactly, though I find him

  slightly repugnant,” Meg admitted, eliciting a snort of agreement from

  Cara. Rhys was right.

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  “Oh, no, that won’t do. The name’s Dante, sweetheart. Please, all

  the beautiful women call me Dante. And I’ll have you know I am

  considered extremely good-looking.”

  Meg shrugged as she walked on. She supposed he was. He was

  tall and lanky but seemed strong. His hair was a thick reddish gold

  and cut in a stylish fashion. It was long and spiky and probably

  required a lot of upkeep to look that messy. She’d noted his eyes were

  green before they were covered by his sunglasses. All in all, though,

  he looked like a wimp compared to Beck. “You sound like a used car

  salesman.”

  Rhys piped up, seemingly eager to pile on to Dante. “His sister

  runs one of the biggest corporations on the vamp plane, but

  Dellacourt here is only allowed to oversee the family’s computer

  chain. They rebuild old machines.”

  “Yep,” Meg said with a satisfied smile. “Used car salesman.”

  They were getting close to what appeared to be a massive arena. It

  was circular and constructed from a combination of wood and stone.

  There were several arches that appeared to be entryways. Meg could

  hear a crowd roaring their approval.

  Dante pulled on Rhys’s arm. He got to one knee. All previous

  sarcasm had fled, and in its place was an earnest desperation. “I am

  begging you. Give me half an hour. You can delay half an hour. Look,

  Beckett Finn is in the woods somewhere hunting. I’ll pay his fee to

  enter the tournament. His brother is dying. He needs her. Don’t you

  owe your king something?”

  “Rhys of the Gentle Hills is forever loyal, Dante,” a soft voice

  said.

  Meg turned and saw Beck standing mere feet from her. He had

  removed his vest and changed into dark pants and a different shirt. He

  held that long, ornate sword in one fist as he moved toward the arena.

  “Excellent.” Sarcasm poured out of the vampire. “I just spent the

  better part of the day running around a freaking forest looking for

  you, and here you are, looking fresh as a daisy. Cian said you had

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  gone hunting. I went to your brugh when I heard about the

  tournament.”

  “I told Cian I was hunting because I didn’t want to get his hopes

  up.” Beck spoke to the vampire, but his eyes didn’t leave Meg.

  He was gazing at her like a predator preparing to pounce. His gray

  eyes blazed through her, and she knew exactly what he wanted. He

  wanted to take her away from here. He wanted to go somewhere

  private where he could lay her down and spread her thighs. At least

  that was what she hoped he wanted.

  “Are you going to make big puppy eyes at the girl for the rest of

  the day, or are you going to go kick some ass?” Dante asked.

  Beck shook his head and walked straight up to Meg. “You’ll have

  to forgive my cousin. He’s a bit of a pain, love. You’ll get used to

  him. He can’t help it. He’s a vampire.” He leaned over and kissed her

  soundly. “I know you’re scared, but remember my promise. We’re in

  this together now. I won’t let you down. And, love, please remember

  anything I do, I do to protect you.”

  With those mysterious words, he turned. As he walked toward the

  gates of the arena, he shouted back to Rhys. “What did he promise

  you to try to get you to put off the tournament?”

  “Half a million in gold, Your Highness.”

  Beck stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his cousin. He had

  a look of impressed awe on his face. “You broke bastard. You didn’t

  have half a million before your sister cut you off.”

  Dante Dellacourt shrugged elegantly. “If I’m going to lie, I’m

  going big. There is no use in doing something halfway.”

  Beck shook his head and turned back. “Take care of her, cos.”

  The vampire smiled down at her and gallantly offered his arm.

  “Well, we have our orders, my lady. Come along. Let’s find a good

  seat and pray Beck doesn’t get himself killed.”

  Meg let the vampire—the flipping, freaking vampire—escort her

  into the arena. Her heart was pounding, but she put one foot in front

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  of the other. She knew that whatever happened in here would change

  her life forever.

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  Sophie Oak

  Chapter Three

  Meg found herself watched by every eye in the arena. Only Fae

  like Beck and vampires like Dante had come to view her in the tent,

  but now all manner of creatures stared at her as she forced herself to

  climb the stone steps to the chaise Rhys and Cara had motioned her

  toward. She found herself staring openly at what had to be an

  enormous troll. It was six feet tall, and it was sitting. She couldn’t

  imagine what it would be like standing up. It was also extremely

  hairy. Behind him looked to be a group of what she could only term

  goblins. They were small and muscular with leat
hery skin and wild

  tufts of hair in odd places. Somewhere in the back of her head, she

  could hear the cantina music from Star Wars playing.

  “Never been off the Earth plane, huh?” Dante had a dumbass

  smile on his face.

  “Do those fangs ever go away?” Meg heard herself ask irritably.

  The vampire seemed to take it all in stride. “Certainly not when I

  am in the company of a half-naked female with a heart-shaped ass.

  Sorry, they pop out when I’m hungry or horny. Can’t help it. And as I

  recently dined on a first-grade meal pill, courtesy of Dellacorp, I think

  we have to assume it’s your fault. What do you say we ditch His

  Highness, go somewhere private, and make some baby fangs?”

  “Pay him no heed, miss.” Cara looked at the vampire, shaking her

  head. The chaise was plush and covered with tent of ornate fabric that

  kept the fierce late-afternoon sun off her skin. “Vampires are not

  known for their manners.”

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  “Is that blood?” Meg looked at the pockets of red that dotted the

  sand of the arena floor. Groups of gnomes were hurriedly shoveling

  out the offending sand.

  “Damn.” Dante sank down beside her. “They already got rid of

  the chopped-off limbs. That’s my favorite part.”

  “They’re really going to fight?” Meg was suddenly horrified at the

  thought of Beck being out there. It was ridiculous, but she felt such a

  strong connection to him that she couldn’t stand the thought of him

  getting hurt, much less dying. It must be Stockholm syndrome. Or

  maybe it was because he had given her the first honest-to-goodness,

  real live, no-double-A-batteries-involved orgasm she’d ever had.

  Whether she turned out to be Patty Hearst or just some desperate girl,

  she didn’t want Beck’s blood staining the arena.

  “Yes, miss,” Rhys answered, taking a seat next to his wife. “Your

  tournament is the last of the day. It is also the largest. The rest of

  these females are just simple mates. You are very rare.”

  Meg let out a sigh of frustration. The whole thing was terribly

  confusing to her. She looked to the vampire. He didn’t seem to have a

  problem telling her the painful truth. “Why? Why do all these men

  want me?”

  His sunglasses receded, and he looked her in the eyes. His green

  eyes sparkled in the shade. “The vamps or the Fae?”

  “Both.”

  His manner took on a distinctly academic tone. “The Fae are

  interested in you as a bondmate. Certain Fae have psychic abilities

  that are greatly enhanced in the presence of a female whose brain is

  tuned to theirs. In Beck’s case, it’s a little more urgent. Beck was born

  with a symbiotic twin, Cian. Think of them as halves of a whole.

  Beck is the practical half. He is the warrior. Cian is the intellectual half. When symbiotic twins turn twenty-five years old, a bondmate is

  found for them, if they aren’t already contracted. The female forms a

  triad with the males. She bridges their minds through hers, and they

  are able to function together. It makes all three stronger. When Beck’s

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  uncle took over Tir na nÒg, he closed the plane. He did this for

  several reasons, but no doubt one was to cut off his nephews from a

  bondmate. They have been forced to look elsewhere.”

  “So Beck is twenty-five.” Meg was a little surprised. He seemed

  older, but perhaps it was his regal authority that made him seem that

  way.

  “My cousin turned thirty nearly three months ago,” Dante replied,

  all teasing gone from his attitude. “Cian is fading. The intellectual

  half is in desperate need of the bond. It is killing him to go without. If Cian fades, all that will be left is the warrior with nothing to balance

  him. Beck will likely go mad. If that happens, he’ll have to be put

  down.”

  “That’s horrible,” Meg replied. “But how can he be sure I’m this

  bond thingy?”

  Now a slow smile curled the vampire’s lips. “There’s only one

  way to know for sure. Tell me, sister, was it good for you?”

  Meg felt her whole body flush with embarrassment. The scene in

  the tent had been Beck’s way of telling if she was compatible. He’d

  even told her that was what he was doing, but the thought of everyone

  knowing what he’d done made her skin turn red. The vampire threw

  back his head and laughed.

  “You are so rude,” Meg complained. She received sympathetic

  looks from the gnomes.

  Dante shrugged, but the grin didn’t leave his face. “I don’t see

  what’s rude about it. It’s a simple fact of life. We all like to get

  fucked, sweetheart, and from what I’ve heard, old Beck there knows

  how to do it right. Of course, it would be slightly different with a

  bondmate. Even without the full bond, during sex, you would have a

  connection with him.”

  “I would feel what he felt.” Meg remembered that odd, erotic

  moment when she could feel his hard-on, feel her own pussy gripping

  his fingers as she came.

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  “Congratulations,” Dante said almost sweetly. “You’re a

  bondmate. I’ve heard it’s the most intimate connection a being can

  have.”

  Meg swallowed nervously, not wanting to think about it. She

  wasn’t here to fall in love. She shouldn’t be here at all. She would

  suffer through this. When she had the chance, she was going to get

  away, and no intimate bond was going to stop her. She decided to

  slightly change the subject. “And the vampires?”

  Dante leaned in, his fangs showing beneath his wide smirk.

  “Darling, the vampires are here because you taste really fucking

  good.”

  Cara leaned over Meg’s lap and slapped the vampire. Dante took

  it with good grace, merely leaning back as though he was slapped by

  females on a regular basis. “Stop teasing the girl. Miss, the vampires

  are looking for what they call a consort. You have to understand there

  are two types of vampires, the peasant and those of royal blood.”

  “Don’t call them peasants,” Dante whistled under his breath.

  “Them’s fighting words. One day you call them peasants, and the next

  day they unionize.”

  Cara ignored him. “The royals are the vampires with ancient

  blood. They are pure vampire. If they can find a proper consort, their

  lives are greatly elongated by taking his or her blood. The consort also

  receives a much longer life by taking the vampire’s blood into his or

  her body. The consort’s blood makes the vampire stronger than he or

  she would normally be. I heard your sister recently married her

  consort, Mr. Dellacourt.”

  Dante’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Yes, now our house is filled

  with love and roses every day. I’m not having any of it. What’s the

  point in an extra couple of hundred years if you can’t party? Susie and

  Colin. What idiots! They walk around like love-struck teens. It’s

  disgusting. See, the bad part about finding a superhot piece of tail like

  you is the inevita
ble, long decline into idiocy.”

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  “He’s trying to say that vampires fall deeply in love with their

  consorts,” Cara said primly.

  “You say potato, I say potahto,” Dante sang.

  “You, Miss, could serve as either a bondmate or a consort,” Rhys

  interjected over the increasingly impatient crowd. “The psychic

  connection apparently comes with some changes in the blood.

  Normally, there would be plenty of suitable men and women. It is a

  common thing in Fae creatures. It’s why our poor king is related to

  that one. Mr. Dellacourt’s father took the king’s aunt as his consort.

  The Fae and Vampire planes are closely linked.”

  “Well, they were until that bastard Torin took over,” Dante said.

  “And why does everyone speak English?” Meg found that very

  confusing. “I don’t get it. Dante sounds like every half-assed player

  prowling the bars on a Saturday night.”

  Dante touched his chest and looked horribly offended. “Now

  who’s rude? For your information, I speak English because my people

  created it a really long time ago. You can’t possibly think your

  ancestors were intelligent enough to come up with such a convoluted

  and ridiculous language. At some point in time, my people found the

  door to your plane and taught you a thing or two. It probably

  happened around the time your people started standing upright. By the

  way, fire? Also a vampire discovery. You have us to thank for that,

  I’m sure. As to my speech patterns reminding you of your home

  plane, I can only say, ick. I don’t mean to sound like some human. It’s

  an unfortunate truth that our planes are very closely connected. If the

  DLs on the subject are correct, there are a lot of similarities between

  the two. Think of it like this—our planes started out on the same

  track, but humans took over your plane, and vampires were the

  evolutionary winners on mine. There are bound to be many, many

  similarities.”

  “Like the potato song,” Meg mused.

  “You have that, too? Funny how that happens sometimes. I’ve

  heard you can run into yourself on planes like that. The Vampire

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