Bound by Her Destiny Read online

  Bound by Her Destiny

  Bound by Her Blood Book 3

  Mara Leigh

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Bad Stepbrother Sneak Peak

  Chapter 1

  Also By Mara Leigh

  A Note to Readers

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Colton

  Shock and horror invade my body, my mind, and the ravine around me dissolves into ghostly darkness, nothing in focus except Grayson, the man Selina’s living with.

  But he’s not a man. He’s a vampire!

  To better aim, I push back the goggles that revealed the truth, grab my loaded crossbow and shoot a long wooden bolt straight toward the bloodsucker’s heart. The weapon’s snapping bang reverberates in my hands.

  Something flashes in front of my eyes, moving so quickly it’s blurred.

  The blurred image thuds to the ground between my vampire target and me.

  I glance down. My world stops.

  “Selina!” Still holding my crossbow, I stagger forward. The wooden stake protrudes from her chest and blood spreads over her white shirt as her fragile body lies lifeless on the dirt path.

  The vampire pounces, landing on top of her.

  I shout, “Don’t touch her, you monster!”

  The fiend glares at me. “You shot her and I’m the monster?”

  My weapon’s poised and ready, but my arm’s frozen. Vampire’s move fast. If I fire while he’s on top of her, I might hit her again. He’ll use her as a human shield.

  The thing cradles her limp body, his hand on her throat, no doubt readying to bite and draw out every last drop of her blood as she dies.

  I toss down the crossbow and pull a stake from my jacket. This close range calls for a direct strike.

  The vampire grabs my arm.

  I didn’t see him move, but his grip is so tight and strong I can’t budge my arm by an inch. Using the other, I reach for my silver handcuffs, clipped to my belt, but the bloodsucker gets there first too, hissing as the metal burns his hand, and he throws the cuffs into the underbrush.

  My shoulders scream in pain as the monster twists both my arms behind me and fastens PlastiCuffs on my wrists.

  I know that vampires move quickly, but this one moves faster than I ever imagined possible. The thing took the zip-tie style cuffs off my belt and fastened them on me in the blink of an eye. Faster than that.

  I kick, trying to knock him off his feet.

  “Really?” He shakes his head. “Not going to make this easy, are you, mate.” Within seconds I’m on my stomach, my ankles in PlastiCuffs too.

  He returns to Selina. “You okay, princess?”

  “Okay?” I shout. “Of course she’s not okay. Please! Leave her alone. Call an ambulance. Or let me call one. Don’t kill her. Please! If you can’t control your urge to kill, then kill me!”

  “No one’s getting killed,” Gray says as he touches Selina’s throat again. “Not unless you plan to make another attempt.”

  “I wasn’t aiming for her, you monster. I was aiming for you!”

  “I get that mate, but look what you did.” With his thumb and index finger, Grayson takes the base of the bolt, protruding less than an inch from her bloody chest.

  “Don’t touch that!” I shout. “You’ll cause more damage!” That’s first aid 101. Even the paramedics, when they come, will leave the bolt in place for surgeons to remove. If they get here in time.

  The vampire draws the bolt from Selina’s chest and tosses it behind him.

  “You’re killing her!” I yell, but even as I accuse him, I know that if she dies it’s me who killed Selina. The pain steals my voice, steals my breath, steals my sanity.

  My throat closes, my chest squeezes and my eyes flood with tears. I love Selina. It’s not just an infatuation. I love her. She’s the love of my life and what we have is—was—something to last a lifetime.

  But who knew her lifetime would be so short? She’s dying. Dying right before my eyes. And it’s my fault. Even if this bloodsucker finishes her off, I am the one who fired the shot that killed her.

  Careless, thoughtless, I was so eager to take down my target I didn’t even notice her stepping into my way to protect him. And now this vampire is going to finish what I started—drain the last drops of blood from his easy prey before she dies.

  I twist against my bindings, but the vampire did a good job. Even if I could tuck up and stretch my bound wrists down to my feet, my shoulders are too broad, not flexible enough to get my arms to the front.

  Rolling onto my side, I shuffle in the dirt, hoping to find a rock wedged in the ground that might cut through the cuffs. It takes wire cutters, or at least strong scissors, to get them off, but I’ve got to try.

  My head strikes a rock. Blinding pain flashes but I ignore it. I need to get free so I can save Selina.

  The vampire is cradling her now, almost like he wants her to recover. Maybe he does. She’s so pale, so limp.

  Is Selina his blood slave? Does he want her alive so he can continue to use her? The thought is beyond repulsive.

  “If you’re not going to kill her,” I call out, “then call an ambulance you asshole!” The force of my voice sprays dirt up around me that enters my nostrils when I try to catch my breath.

  Coughing, I turn onto my side and try to wiggle toward them. Even with my ankles bound, if I catch him off guard, maybe I can kick him off her body. My head pounds from where it struck that rock and blood streams from the cut into my eyes. Maybe my blood will distract the villain and he’ll take my life instead of hers.

  “He knows,” Selina says to the vampire. “What do we do now?”

  “You need to feed,” he says. “The stake missed your heart, just barely from the look of it, but you’ve lost a lot of blood, not to mention the internal damage. Feeding will help you heal faster.”

  She nods and my confusion grows. I can’t process this conversation. I’m not hearing correctly. I must be in shock.

  “Help me sit,” Selina says to the vampire. She wraps her arms around his neck, drawing herself up so that her face nears his throat.

  He pushes her back a few inches. “No, princess. Not me. Him.” Gray points toward me.

  My body deduces his meaning more quickly than my brain, and I buck and jackknife, sliding along the path in the opposite direction, trying to get away.

  Selina. The woman I love. The woman I’ve kissed and held and treasured. The woman I planned to be with forever. Selina…

  Selina is a vampire.

  It doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to believe it. My mind fights the truth as my body continues its escape attempt.

  Gray’s arm remains around Selina’s bleeding body to support her, and they glance in my direction and whisper, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Are they talking about me? About how they plan to kill me?

  This is it. I am going to die. Die in the same horrible way my sister did. And worse, I’m going to die with the knowledge that the woman I love is not even a human.

  Using every bit of
force and will inside me, I inch my way along the path, even though it’s futile.

  Chapter 2

  Selina

  As I argue with Gray, Colton’s blood calls out to me.

  Gray is right. I need to feed. And instincts deep inside me say that he’s right about my needing human blood at the moment.

  Colton’s blood smells better to me than anything I can imagine. My desire for his blood, for Colton himself, is overwhelming, excruciating, and it rages inside me, but I try to convince myself that any human’s blood would seduce me right now. Feeding from Colton is nothing more than a necessity, something I need to survive and not something more meaningful.

  But even as I fight to convince myself that Colton’s blood is nothing more than a generic product, it’s even harder to ignore the strong voice inside me that knows my feeding from Colton is something he would hate.

  If he’s realized what I am, then Colton already hates me, that ship has sailed, but my taking his vein would be his worst nightmare.

  “Help!” Colton yells as he struggles to move along the path. “Vampires! Someone! Call 911!”

  Shaking his head, Gray makes sure I’m in a stable sitting position, then grabs a handkerchief from his pocket—only Gray would be carrying a handkerchief—and approaches Colton.

  “Quiet down,” he tells the cop, a hand on Colton’s back as if trying to still him. “No one wants to hurt you.”

  “Help!” Colton yells.

  Gray stuffs the handkerchief in Colton’s mouth, then returns to crouch beside me.

  With Gray’s help, I stand, still finding my balance after my injury and blood loss. In fact, I’m still bleeding. The chest wound is deep, for all I know it may have nicked my heart or at least one of the main arteries leading to it, and I clearly need to feed to gain the strength to heal.

  “After I feed,” I whisper in Gray’s ear. “What then? He knows you’re a vampire.”

  The horror in Colton’s eyes confirms what I’ve been trying to deny. This isn’t just about Gray. Colton knows that I’m a vampire too. Whatever we had between us, whatever it might have become, it’s over.

  “First things first,” Gray says. “Drink. Your venom will take his memory of the feeding.”

  Hope floods through me. “Will he forget the whole night? Forget that you’re a vampire too?”

  Gray pulls me more tightly into his side and starts moving us toward Colton, whose struggling accelerates.

  His fruitless escape attempt breaks my heart, and the hate and fear in his eyes spears the vital part of my body his stake barely missed. But his determination to get away reminds me of one of the things I love about Colton. His bravery. His sense of right and wrong, even if it’s misguided. His inner strength. His outer strength too, even if that will never compare to a vampire’s.

  Gray helps me kneel on the path near Colton’s writhing body, then he picks up Colton and props the man on his knees.

  Colton’s eyes plead with me—a mixture of confusion, fear and horror.

  “Relax, Colton,” I whisper. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” I stroke the side of his face, and the stubble on his chin excites me with soft pricks.

  He pulls away, repulsed, and it hurts so much it steals my breath.

  This feels so wrong. Taking Colton’s blood against his will.

  Even when I found my meals via random drunks in alleys, it never felt as invasive or wrong as this.

  Taking blood from a man who hates vampires. Taking blood from a man I’ve deceived. Taking blood from a man I love.

  And I do love Colton, even if I don’t love his beliefs. Through my weakness, my hunger and the pain of my injury, I still feel the intense crush of losing him.

  Taking Colton’s shoulders, Gray holds the man’s struggling body from behind, keeping him still for me as I lean in toward his throat. Colton’s skin is coated in cold sweat, dirt and goose bumps, but I sense the warmth and promise of the hot nourishment pulsing under the surface.

  Blood trickles down the side of his face—he must have hit his head on something—and his breaths come so quickly, too quickly, as he unsuccessfully tries to fight against Gray’s tight hold.

  I need to do this. I know I do. And the longer I wait the more we risk someone finding us. From down here on the forest path, this ravine feels secluded, but traffic rushes by to the north on Kingston Road, and human sounds drift from the houses and side streets along the ravine’s edges.

  Resting my lips on Colton’s throat, I feel the pulse of his vein. I wish I could resist what I want, what I need. I’m strong enough to get up to the street—at least with Gray’s help. I could find another human. Another jogger, or someone walking home from the streetcar.

  But if I do that, the risk of capture would increase a hundredfold and still would leave the problem of Colton, bound in the ravine and knowing the truth about Gray, about me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that Colton knows I’m a vampire, that he hates me. I’m not sure how I expected it to go when he found out. If Colton was going to stay in my life, he’d have found out sooner or later. It would have ended between us at some point, but his hating me hurts so bad.

  Licking his throat, I taste the salt on his skin and the grit from the trail, but a little dirt can’t deter the allure of what flows beneath.

  “Forgive me,” I whisper against his ear, then I plunge my teeth into his neck.

  Blood erupts into my mouth. His heart is beating so quickly there’s little time between surges as I gulp. Colton tastes fresh and bright like summer, but also rich and meaty. Within seconds, I detect his blood’s effect on my body. And my venom’s effect on his.

  As Colton relaxes, Gray lets him fall into my arms, and I easily cradle the man, twice my weight, as I pull life-giving liquid from deep inside him.

  I remove Colton’s gag and then realize that Gray’s already cut the bindings. Colton’s body stretches out, lying along the ground, with my arms holding his torso to keep his vein against my mouth.

  As I drink, desire pools between my legs, and an erection rises between his.

  “Slow down, princess.”

  I barely hear Gray from beside us. I’m completely engulfed in this intimate, sensual act. My hand slides down to graze the bulge straining against Colton’s khakis.

  He moans.

  Every part of me wants to free his erection, to straddle him and put him inside me as I feed—or failing that, at least hold him, stroke him to climax—but I regain my senses.

  Moving my hand back to Colton’s head, I withdraw my fangs, then lick his wounds and watch them heal. The contented smile on Colton’s sleeping face comforts me for a moment, until I remember the expression is only a biological reaction—his arousal is too.

  Nothing about this act was consensual, nothing about it would have made Colton happy, and if I’d taken it any further, to the places I wanted… I glance down at his erection again.

  “It’s okay, Selina,” Gray crouches and rests his hand on my shoulder. “You needed blood, and he had it. What happened here is perfectly natural.”

  Sitting, I slide Colton’s head onto my lap, watching him sleep, so peaceful, so handsome. My heart pounds so hard, fueled by the fresh blood that nourished me, allowed me to heal and amplified my feelings for this man, this human, this vampire-hating cop.

  Maybe it’s just a side effect of the blood but I never want to let Colton go, even though I know that as soon as he wakes the magic between us will vanish—from his perspective, anyway.

  Colton does care for me—did care for me—that was obvious, but everything he felt will be erased by what he knows, by what I just did.

  “How much will he remember?” I ask Gray, without looking away from Colton’s resting face.

  “He’ll forget the feeding, but I’m not sure how much else.”

  I look up into Gray’s eyes. He understands. He knows how hard this is for me, losing Colton. “Will he remember that I’m a vampire? That you are?”

&nb
sp; “We won’t know for sure until he wakes.”

  “What do we do?” I search for wisdom in Gray’s expression, as I stroke my fingers through Colton’s hair.

  “Hey,” Gray says to someone behind me.

  I turn.

  Astrid and two other vampires stand behind me on the trail. My heart sinks. This situation was bad enough, and while I’m not sure what will happen next, I know it won’t be good. What’s the FJS protocol, I wonder, to deal with a human, a policeman no less, who knows the identity of not one but two vampires?

  Gray holds his hands toward Astrid, wrists together.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “I called Astrid,” Gray says, “to turn myself in.”

  “For what?” None of this makes sense. Colton is the problem, not Gray.

  “Vampircide,” Gray says. “I killed Zora. You going to cuff me or what?” he asks Astrid. “The cop’s silver cuffs are in the woods, right over there if you came unprepared.”

  Astrid nods to her staff, and they flank Grey, each holding one arm.

  “I don’t think handcuffs are necessary,” she says.

  “Thanks.” Gray looks down toward Colton and me.

  “Gray killed Zora in self-defense,” I tell Astrid. “She was coming at me. She was going to kill me, kill Gray too.” I wonder where Pike went. Or did I just dream he was here. It’s all a fog now, my memories hazy, post injury, post feeding.

  “That right?” Astrid asks Gray. “Did you kill her in self-defense?

  “Nope.” He shakes his head. “She wasn’t even armed, I don’t think.”

  Why isn’t Gray helping himself?