Bruiser’s head shot up. “No. Never.”
“Why not?”
“That is what Leo did. What Leo wanted me to do to you. I amnotLeo. I will never try to own you.”
“Monique wants—wanted—to bind you. Wanted to bind me. What if an Onorio can succeed where a vamp couldn’t?”
“How do you know she wanted to bind us?”
“That little talk I had with her in her cottage?” I had fessed up during the night of dancing. Bruiser hadn’t been happy with me talking to Monique, but he hadn’t been unhappy either, so that was good. Of course, I had left some stuff out. “She tried then.”
Bruiser’s mouth tightened.
I gave a helpless shrug. “She was wearing null cuffs, which limited her power, and I broke her before she could get a mental grip on me. But what if she was at full power and got to me when I was the weakened one? We need to know.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“And if Beast tried to ownyou? The way Leo did? If Beast tried to take over and make you do what she wanted?”
“As she did last night?” His eyes fell to the floor where we had... His smile spread. “I suppose there are worse forms of slavery.”
“No. There aren’t. That would be the worst kind. So try to bind me.” I crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed, taking a hand in mine. He had amazing hands, well-groomed nails, and long fingers, like the English gentleman he had been brought up to be. “Try.”
“But—”
“Try. And I’ll try to bind you.”
“Why?”
“I discovered last night that I could participate in agather. That should only be possible if I was a vamp and had shared blood with all the people there. We don’t know what powers the Dark Queen really has, and so far as we know, there’s never been a Dark Queen with an Onorio Consort. We need to know. Like seriously.We need to know.” And I needed to know if Bruiser might be capable of binding Grandmother. So much I didn’t know, and there was no one to teach me now that Leo was gone. Except Bruiser. And for the skinwalker stuff, Aya and our loony, flesh-eating granny.
His eyes, which had not looked at me except for swift glances, rested on my face. “You’re sure?”
“You’re my Consort. So yeah. We need to know what our strengths and our weaknesses are. What if, together,we could hold off multiple mental attacks all at once?”What if, together, we could bind Grandmother?
Bruiser slid his arms around me and kissed me. His magic rose, this time smelling of catnip. A deliberate attempt at allure. My own magic—mine, not Beast’s—rose to meet it. The energies twined together, a warm brew of scent and taste and happiness. They met, equal in power.
Bruiser pushed against my skinwalker defenses. It began as a gentle pressure, then grew harder. His hands tightened, pulling me closer. His tongue plundered my mouth. He pulled back, his teeth nipping at my neck. But the magic didn’t pierce me. Instead our powers wrapped together. Merged. Became stronger. He pulled away, his eyes wide. He laughed, a rare, joyous sound. “I can’t bind you.”
“And I can’t bind you. Feel better?”
“So what happened last night?” He patted the mattress.
“I think Beast can draw out your magics and use them for what she wants. And last night she wanted me to have sex. Lots of wonderful sex.”
“But she didn’t attempt to bind me.”
“No,” I said ruefully. “She used you to get happy, but I think we were both well on the way to that anyway.”
“I am your servant in bed, Jane. Never your master.”
“Ditto. Now,” I threw the back of my hand to my forehead like an actress in an old movie, “if you don’t feed me, I may swoon.”
Bruiser gave a well-mannered soft snort. “Get dressed. Eli has made quite the spread.”
Bruiser left me sitting on the bed. “Beast?” I whispered, knowing I hadn’t told Bruiser everything. “How much of this nonbinding thing is you and how much of this is your angel?”
Beast didn’t deign to reply. And I had a feeling that might be a bad thing.
