The Ruby Kiss by Helen Scott Taylor

Author:Helen Scott Taylor [Taylor, Helen Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781428509900
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2012-08-14T09:56:59+00:00

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Chapter Eleven

Nightshade followed the directions a brownie gave him and pushed open the door to the Troll’s Armpit. The sense of unease plucking his nerves since Ruby had left flared to full-blown alarm as he barged in, shouldering aside a Whip who was blocking the door. His glance around the room revealed the few patrons with drinks were all staring in the same direction.

He followed their gaze and his blood froze. Twister had Ruby pinned against the wall. The three green stone rings of his Magic Knot rested in Ruby’s palm.

Nightshade’s heart hammered in shocked disbelief. “What . . . ?” He shook his head. “Why?”

Pain slammed through his chest, cutting off his already thin breath. His aching head throbbed harder. He staggered a few steps before catching himself against a wooden pillar.

“Ugh!” Ruby dropped the Magic Knot back into Twister’s hand as if it were poison. But it was too late. The bond between the two had been wrought. Nothing short of death would break it.

Her distraught gaze locked with Nightshade’s. “He forced me to touch those stones. I didn’t want to,” she cried.

Something inside Nightshade broke. His head dropped forward. He stared unseeing at the ground.

She was mine.

Twister might have forced her into the bond, but the whys and wherefores were irrelevant. Nightshade had now lost Ruby. How certain he’d been that she would be his. He would have been patient until she trusted him enough to bond with him. His imagination had already joined them together at Trevelion Manor in Cornwall with their son in the nursery.

He turned his back, unable to look at her. On the opposite side of the room Devin was slumped on the floor against the wall, an open bite wound leaking trails of blood down his neck. Nightshade blinked, even more stunned. His friend’s predicament helped push all thought of Ruby from his mind.

He gathered his shredded wits and hurried forward. “Ye gods, Devin.”

“After my leftovers, pisky boy?” his father crowed from the corner.

“I tried to stop Dragon biting him,” Ruby shouted.

Nightshade blocked out everyone except his friend. The strong steady beat of the djinn’s heart eased his tension; Devin looked a mess, but the damage was not serious. Not for one with Devin’s extraordinary powers. Nightshade knelt, gathered the djinn’s upper body in his arms and examined the twin holes in his neck.

He’d come to ask Devin for blood in the hope it would help him recover from his sickness so that he could protect Ruby when she faced Fenrir, but now he’d have to manage without that help. He couldn’t take more blood from Devin, and nobody else was likely to offer him their neck. Ruby . . . . With a grunt of frustrated anger, he shoved her out of his thoughts and concentrated on the djinn.

He ran his tongue over Devin’s neck, sealing the fang holes and cleaning away the blood. Pleasure shuddered through him. Devin’s blood had the unusual addictive quality of his father Troy’s, the tangy taste and power a heady combination.

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