Which begged the question…
Settling across from him, I said, “I don’t carry your mark. How is it that we share one?”
His expression didn’t change. “You carried my mark from the moment I gave you my blood after you were hurt in the warehouse. The moment my blood entered your body, the bond was established.”
I frowned at the unexpected information.
Yes, Paine had healed me with his blood, but I always assumed a mark was established by drinking from a vampire, not sharing by sharing blood directly via a wound or injury.
“Disco never said anything.”
“There wasn’t any need to. He knew I would never break his trust, and under the circumstances it was necessary.”
“So how does that work exactly?”
“In the same manner it worked with Gabriel. It’s not totally uncommon for those who serve a vampiric family to be marked by more than one member.”
Running my palms across my face, I tried to come to grips with everything that had transpired in the past hour. The newfound information that Paine could access my necromancy and all that came along with it still shocked me.
Paine slid across the distance, until we were thigh to thigh, and placed an arm around my shoulder. When I lifted my head, I saw scant inches separated us. The look in his eyes and the bond between us allowed me to feel another emotion, one that was his alone but amplified nonetheless because of our connection. It caused my stomach to contort, as it felt right yet wrong at the same time.
“Paine—”
Whatever else I wanted to say was vanquished when his lips brushed mine softly, the most tender and heartbreaking of kisses. I felt confused by the contact, torn as my heart rebelled even as my body warmed at the display of comfort and trust. His hand twined in my hair, fingers light against my scalp. When he pulled away, his dark eyes were simmering with a heat I knew all too well.
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
He leaned in again, and I didn’t protest. My heart was too heavy, my grief still present but searching for something to dull the pain. His lips parted as his tongue ran along the crevice of my lips before it slipped past. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but a sweet one, as if we both understood how significant the moment was. I wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d kissed a woman, but I gathered it had been a very, very long time.
“You taste so sweet, so incredible…” He pulled away and looked at me.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I murmured even as I wrapped my arms around his neck. Looking for an anchor to hold on to, something I could control if only for a short time.
“Yes,” he responded in a heady groan. “We should.”
Because of our marks, I could feel his need, the agony he’d suffered in the wait for me, his torment that my heart belonged to another while he longed for me in ways he couldn’t share or act upon. I wasn’t some normal woman; I was the only person he could be with like this—just like this—without fear or pain, revulsion or disgust.
When his hands slipped under my legs and he lifted me, I didn’t protest.
I had no idea how much time I had left, or if I’d even survive facing the poltergeist in the morning. Nothing had gone according to plan. If this was the one gift I could give him, I didn’t have it in me to say no. He handled me carefully, pulling me into his chest as he lowered his head and kissed me again. When he pulled away and I opened my eyes, we were already in his bedroom with the door closed. As he placed me on his bed, a surge of panic surfaced—the byproduct of my past. Only Disco had ever gotten this close to me before, able to breach the walls I’d surrounded myself with.