Lover Unbound(10)

She would know what happened, though. The marks of the sex would be all over her.

As the female materialized on the terrace, he turned around. Through the sliders she was an anonymous shadow of curves in a black leather bustier and a long, loose black skirt. Her dark hair was coiled up high on her head, as he'd required.

She knew to wait. Knew not to knock.

He opened the door with his mind, but she also knew better than to come in without being summoned.#p#分页标题#e#

He looked her over and caught her scent. She was totally aroused.

His fangs elongated, but not because he was particularly interested in the wet sex between her legs. He needed to feed, and she was female and she had all kinds of veins to tap into. It was biology, not bewitchment.

V extended his arm and crooked his finger at her. She came forward, trembling, as well she should. He was in a particularly sharp mood tonight.

"Lose that skirt," he said. "I'm not feeling it."

She immediately unzipped the thing and let it fall to the floor in a rush of satin. Underneath, she wore a black garter and black lace-topped hose. No panties.

Hmm… Yeah. He was going to cut that lingerie off her hips with a dagger. Eventually.

V walked over to the wall and picked out a mask with only one opening. She was going to have to breathe through her mouth if she wanted air.

Tossing it to her, he said, "On. Now."

She covered her face without a word.

"Get up on my table."

He didn't help her as she fumbled around, just watched, knowing she'd find her way. They always did. Females like her always found the way to his rack.

To pass the time, he took a hand-rolled out of his back pocket, put it between his lips, and picked a black candle from its holder. As he lit his cigarette, he stared at the little pool of liquid wax at the foot of the flame.

He checked on how the female was progressing. Well-done. She'd positioned herself faceup, arms out, legs spread.

After he restrained her, he knew exactly where to start tonight.

He kept the candle in his hand as he stepped forward.



Under the caged lights of the Brotherhood's gym, John Matthew assumed the ready position and focused on his training opponent. The two of them were as well matched as a pair of chopsticks, both thin and insubstantial, easily broken. As all pretrans were.

Zsadist, the Brother who was teaching the hand-to-hand tonight, whistled through his teeth, and John and his classmate bowed to each other. His opponent said the appropriate acknowledgment in the Old Language, and John returned the statement using American Sign Language. Then they engaged. Small hands and bony arms flew around to no great effect; kicks were thrown out like paper airplanes; dodges were made with little finesse. All their moves and positions were shadows of what they should have been, echoes of thunder, not the bass roar itself.

The thunder came from elsewhere in the gym.

In the middle of the round, there was a tremendous WHOOMP! as a solid body hit the blue mats like a bag of sand. Both John and his opponent glanced over… then abandoned their meager mixed-martial-arts attempts.

Zsadist was working with Blaylock, one of John's two best friends. The redhead was the only trainee who'd been through the change so far, so he was twice the size of everyone else in the class. And Z had just rugged the guy.

Blaylock sprang to his feet and once more faced off again like a trooper, but he was just going to get his ass handed to him again. As big as he was, Z was a giant as well as a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood. So Blay was facing a Sherman tank with a fuckload of fighting experience.

Man, Qhuinn should be here to see this. Where was the guy?

All eleven trainees let out a "Whoa!" as Z calmly clipped Blay off balance, tossed him sunny-side down on the mats, and cranked him into a bone-bending submission hold. The instant Blay tapped out, Z got off him.

As Zsadist stood over the kid, his voice was as warm as it ever got. "Five days out of your transition and you're doing good."

Blay smiled, even though his cheek was mashed into the mat like it had been glued down there. "Thank you…" He panted. "Thank you, sire."#p#分页标题#e#

Z extended his hand and hooked Blay off the floor just as the sound of a door opening echoed through the gym.

John's eyes bulged at what came in. Well, shit… that explained where Qhuinn had been all afternoon.

The male coming slowly across the mats was a six-foot-five-inch, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound likeness of someone who'd weighed about as much as a bag of dog food the day before. Qhuinn had been through the transition. God, no wonder the guy hadn't Y-messy'd or texted during the day. He'd been busy growing a new body.

As John lifted his hand, Qhuinn nodded back like his neck was stiff or maybe his head was pounding. The guy looked like shit and moved as if every bone in his body hurt. He also fiddled with the collar of his new XXXL fleece like the feel of it was bugging him, and he kept jacking his jeans up with a wince. His black eye was a surprise, but maybe he'd bumped into something in the middle of the transition? Word had it you flailed around a lot when you were changing.