Лори Девоти - Unbound

She placed both hands on his hips, skimming the indentation of muscle over his abdomen with her thumbs. His tongue plunged into her mouth with new intensity.

Her back arched, pushing her pelvis against his erection. Murmuring something against her lips, he pushed his hands under her shirt and released her bra. His hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rolling her nipples until she wanted to scream from anticipation.

Her eyes closed, she threw her head back. Risk pulled her shirt and bra over her head, and lowered his lips to her nipple. Muscles deep in her body clenched.

The world pulsed around her. Her hands wrapped around his lowered neck, she straightened and opened her eyes. It was happening again. She could see the power throbbing around them, violet and red blending together, forming a cerise mist that tinted everything.

She sighed, her mind accepting what only days earlier would have startled and confused her, but it felt so right — her power and Risk’s blending to make something so beautiful.

Risk’s power. Red.

The dog had been surrounded by red.

A cold chill crept up Kara’s back. No. It was impossible. Risk couldn’t be…

Risk’s hand slid down to the front of her jeans. The purr of her zipper moving downward, pushing her to speak.

“Risk, why did the bartender say that about the hellhound?” she whispered.

Risk froze, his fingers brushing the mound of hair covering her core.

“I mean like I belonged to it or something. And then the man, the one who attacked me, he was talking to that dog.” She ran her fingers over his chest, willing him to say something rational and easy to push aside.

Cool air touched her nipples, damp from Risk’s kisses. She suppressed a shiver. Why wasn’t he answering?

“Risk?”

His head was bowed, his eyes lowered.

Unease crawled over her.

He pulled his hand from her jeans and reached for her shirt. “Kara, we need to talk.”

Kara could only stare at him. Her mouth forming a silent no.

Risk pushed Kara away from him, afraid to tell her what he knew had to be revealed with her pressed against his body.

Her eyes were round with dread, but she took the shirt he retrieved from the floor with steady hands.

She could handle this, he told himself — learning he was a hellhound wouldn’t matter. Even knowing he had been sent to bring her back to Lusse in what amounted to a death sentence and that he still was bound to obey Lusse, to retrieve not only Kara, but now Kelly, too, she could accept that. Understand, that together, they could beat Lusse at her own hunt — somehow.

She had to.

But how to tell her? Deciding on the most direct approach, he stood. “Watch me,” he ordered.

Her eyes filled with uncertainty, she curled her knees toward herself and watched.

“Don’t move,” he added, then shimmered to his cabin. There he quickly grabbed a pair of jeans. Now was not a time to be naked with Kara. She was too tempting and too much rode on how she took what he was about to tell her.

Telling himself, all would be well. He returned to her living room.

Kara still sat on the rug, her eyes staring blankly out into the room.

“What are you?” she asked, not moving her gaze. “I know you’re not a witch — you would have told me.”

“No, I’m not a witch. I’m a forandre.” A place to start. The full truth would come. He lowered himself to the floor a few feet away from her. “You know I said I work for a witch?”

She looked at him then, nodding.

“It’s more than that. My parents sold me to her when I was eight.”

Her eyes showed her shock. “Your parents sold you? How can that be? Is that legal…” she paused, her mind obviously working to sort through the possibilities “…anywhere?”

He laughed. “It’s more than legal. In my world, especially at that time, it was considered an honor. Every family wanted one of theirs to be bound to a great power — a god or if they were strong enough, a witch. And Lusse is the strongest.” He glanced at her, thought of how she had drained away his power in the parking lot with an ease Lusse had never possessed. “Or was.”

“So, you’re bound to this witch. What does that mean, and what is a forandre? What does she want from you?” Kara pulled her knees tighter, as if shielding herself from the answers.

Three questions. Risk chose the first. “It means I can’t escape her. I belong to her. If I try to ignore what she asks of me, she can starve me, torture me, whatever she wants and no one will stop her. If I try to escape…” He reached up and grabbed the silver chain at his neck. “She calls me back. I am bound to do her bidding.”

Kara’s brows lowered, her full lips falling open. “That’s awful. How long has it been?”

“Five hundred years.”

Five hundred years? Kara blinked. “But that means you’re…immortal.” That was too much. Magic okay, doorways that took you back where you started maybe — but the virile man she’d made love to…five hundred years old? No. That was impossible. She looked at Risk, waiting for him to correct her.

“Not immortal.”

Kara let out a breath.

“But close.”

She inhaled through her teeth. “How close?”

“Forandre can be killed. It’s just hard for anyone besides another forandre or a god to do it.”

“What about old age?” she asked, not even sure her lips were moving — the world she had just been dropped in was so surreal.

He shrugged. “My father was eight hundred when I left. I don’t know if he’s still alive or not.” His fingers curled into his palms.

Kara stared at his balled fist. “So, thirteen hundred years old?”

He flicked his hands open. “Maybe, maybe less. He could be dead by now.” He swallowed hard, stared down at his fingers.

A band constricted around Kara’s heart. Five hundred years Risk had spent bound to another person. His family cut off from him, possibly dead. At least she’d had her parents until she was out of high school, an adult — and then Kelly…

“How do you keep going?” she asked, longing to go to him, to comfort him, even though he’d made no indication he wanted that. But something kept her planted on the rug, something in his posture telling her more was to come.

He frowned. “I didn’t think I had another choice, until recently.”

Kara tilted her head. “So, you think you do now?”

He nodded. “I do, but there’s more I have to tell you.”

She pulled her lip into her mouth.

“You asked why the hellhound wanted you.” He flexed his fingers. “He was sent to hunt you down. To take you back to the witch he’s bound to. So she could drain your powers to bolster her own.”

“He…it is bound to a witch? Like…you?” Pieces of conversation, snippets of events from the last few days began tumbling through Kara’s mind. Then one by one they snapped into place and Kara looked up, her hand covering her mouth. “No.”

“Exactly like me,” Risk responded.

Kara stared at him, trying to imagine the man who had stroked her so gently, made love to her as no one ever had before, made her feel stronger than she ever thought she could…tried to imagine him as the snarling beast of her nightmares. “But you can’t be…I mean…It’s a dog. You’re a man.”

“Forandre. A shape-shifter.”

Kara jumped to her feet, her hands held out in front of her. “You were the dog in the parking lot — the one who attacked me?”

He shook his head. “No, I was the second hound. The one who saved you from the first.”

Kara’s mind was whirling. “But you were there to…?”

“To capture you for Lusse. It’s true.”

“But you’ve never hurt…” She let the word trail off. She could see the hideous truth in his eyes.