Sin Undone

“The dart the Carceris struck you with was coated with an anticoagulant. Keeps you bleeding so they can track you in the event that the dart doesn’t stick.”


Clever. “How do you know so much about them?” “I’ve had my fair share of experience with them.” He gripped her calves with both hands, spread her legs, and tugged her forward so he was between her thighs, her knees resting against either side of his ribs.

Sin tried to ignore the intimate position, but her body couldn’t, and she tensed, feeling caged even though it was he who was pinned between her legs. “You’ve been arrested? What did you do?” “Like I said, I have experience with them.”

“Ooh,” she teased, dragging her foot up his back. “A bad boy. Come on, spill.”

“Maybe I killed annoying succubi for fun.” His words were gruff, but his fingers were gentle as he lifted the towel to inspect her leg wound.

“I hope you gave them a bunch of those foreplay orgasms first.” He snorted, but didn’t offer up any details about his time with the Carceris. Clearly, he wasn’t going to talk, so she studied the inside of the ambulance, with its cabinets, benches, and a station near the front that looked like a miniature chem lab for mixing potions. “So, how do vampires do this job, anyway? Doesn’t the sight and smell of blood make you hungry?”

“If you’ve just gorged on Thanksgiving dinner, do you want to have a sandwich?” That was a joke. She hadn’t had a Thanksgiving dinner since her grandparents had been alive. But suddenly, she craved turkey, mince pie, and homemade rolls. Nostalgia, something she’d banned long ago, filled her with the same warmth she’d felt when her family gathered around the rickety old holiday dinner table. As a child, she’d envisioned futures that involved a husband, children, Uncle Loren and his family, all gathered for holidays with their grandparents. Now she knew better than to let those childish dreams in, and ruthlessly, she flexed her arm and allowed the pain to bring her back to the present, where she’d never celebrate sappy, sentimental holidays again.

“I don’t want food after a large meal, no, but… Oh, so you feed before your shift?” “And during. We keep snacks in the cooler. All medics do, depending on their species. Worked with one partner who gnawed on bones the entire shift.” Gross. “What if it’s not just diet that’s an issue for you guys? What if it’s something else?” “What? Like needing to kill or absorb pain?”

She shrugged. “Or screw.”

One tawny eyebrow shot up. “Species who kill uncontrollably can’t be medics, but we used to have one guy who fed on others’ pain. This was the perfect job for him, until he decided he’d rather not make patients feel better. The sex thing… I don’t know. Guess it depends on the breed of incubi or succubi. Shade manages fine for short shifts. Why? You thinking about signing up? Because I’ll bet you wouldn’t have any trouble getting a partner who could, ah, help you out between runs.”

Oh, and wouldn’t that conversation with Shade, who ran the paramedic program, be fun? “Thanks, but I already have a job.” He shook his head, unscrewed a bottle of something, wetted a gauze pad, and swiped it over her cut. “This is a coagulant Eidolon developed from vampire saliva. It’s more effective on supernaturally inflicted wounds than anything humans have invented.”

“Eew.”

“Would you rather I licked you?” The dark, sultry note in his voice wrapped around her like a silk ribbon. How to answer that? Because either yes or no would be both truth and lie. In the end, she managed a breathy “No,” which she could only hope sounded more convincing to him than it did to her. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Look, can you step on it? I need to get to my assassin den.”

He leveled her an amused, no-deal look, as if she had absolutely no say in her future. “I told you, you’re coming to my place.” He finished mopping up the laceration, which, thanks to the vamp spit concoction, was now oozing instead of gushing. “The Carceris is looking for you. They’ll hit all of the obvious places first.”

“Well, Captain Bossy, the den has security goons.” When Con took a break from twisting the top off a small bottle of antiseptic to give her an are-you-fucking-serious look, she sighed. “I know they can’t stop the Carceris, but they’ll at least warn me.”

“Are you sure about that? Little sting…” He squirted the liquid into the cut on her thigh and she gritted her teeth against the pain. “Aiding and abetting is a serious offense. Do your guards love you that much?”

No, they didn’t. A slow roll of guilt rose up in her as she thought about how Eidolon and Wraith had come to her aid even knowing what they were risking. And Con, too. She studied him as he worked on her wound, his gloved hands gentle, practiced. She hadn’t expected that. From the moment she’d met the gorgeous male, he’d been nothing but intense. Hard. He’d thrown her against the side of the very ambulance they were in. He’d bet his paramedic partner, Luc, that he could get into her pants.