Bound by Blood (An Anya Maynard Novel)

Chapter Twenty Three

   Maybe hate was the wrong word, because by the Fates doing my hands were pulled from their position as another body pushed me away from Maddie before I could fulfill her demand.

   “Connor?” I practically fell over him as he collapsed back into a ball, his momentary burst of energy lost, my hands gripping his shoulders, “Connor talk to me.”

   “Sick,” he slurred into the sand and I helped him over on his back again, his eyes rolling behind those closed lids, fighting to open.

   “Who’s sick, are you sick?” I asked him urgently.

   One broken hand came up to cover mine, “no,” he tried again, “she’ll make you sick.”

   “What?”

   His lips smacked together a few times and he visibly swallowed, “if you eat her,” his voice was horse and he spoke slowly, “she’ll make you sick.”

   Then he wasn’t as out of it as I had thought he was.

   Glowing emerald eyes fluttered open to meet mine and I felt somehow liberated, like because Connor was awake everything would be okay. That was the power of a born Alpha, the power of the bond between us. I felt the hot tears roll down my cheek again, but this time in happiness and I threw myself around his body, hugging him tight as my cheek pressed again his chest.

   “You stupid ass,” Maddie shoved at him when I pulled away, “I’m trying to spare your wife here.”

   He grimaced as he shifted to his side, propping himself on one elbow carefully as he shook his head, “it won’t work,” he said roughly, “because she will never be the same if she kills you. The Anya you know will be gone, left in her place a fractured shell of what she once was…” he trailed off, his eyes finding mine to both apologize for speaking for me and to confirm that his words were indeed correct.

   I bit my lip and looked to the sand, they were. How could I go on knowing that I killed her? I would drown in the guilt every time I thought of her, every time I missed her. No, I wouldn’t have been alright.

   “Then you do it,” she said softly.

   Again he tried to sit up, this attempt successful I feared only because of my own guiding hands, “no,” he said simply, “No one here will kill the other. He wants us dead then let him have the blood on his own hands.”

   His eyes turned to living flames in the next moment, settling on his gloating brother and the smiling man beside him.

   Said man snorted, “Fine, maybe you need a little help in choosing, Brad,” Robert threw over his shoulder, “why don’t you give them a little incentive.”

   Those almost dimples dug into his cheeks and he reached behind him, holding his hand out, waiting for someone to bring him his gun holster. He slid it over his bare shoulders, tossing the towel to the side, “Gladly,” he purred and stepped off the ledge.

   It was clear as his gaze locked with mine that I was all he was really interested in, that this had nothing to do with incentives. All he wanted was to inflict pain on me, like James, for the humiliations he faced thanks to me.

   There was one kink in his plan though, I hated him.

   “Now you,” I narrowed my eyes and stood slowly from the ground, “I have no problem killing.”

   “I second that,” Maddie was right behind me.

   My words were like ice just as much as my gaze I was sure, neither of which affected Brad in the least, nor Maddie’s presence. He had eyes only for me.