Becoming Blood

CHAPTER ONE

Ash opened her eyes and a lonely chill ran along her spine.

Connal was gone.

Her new instincts confirmed it.

Ever since he’d confessed the price of their freedom, she’d feared waking like this: to find he’d snuck away in the night, ready to commit murder in her name. Because however much he plied her with his easy Irish humour and distracted her with his wickedly hard body, there was no getting away from it: as long as MacTire breathed, they had no future together.

Moonlight cut across the empty expanse of sheets. She gathered them around her and blinked, taking in the room in her grandmother’s house she’d made her own. The glow created deep shadows around her furniture and glittered off her jewellery. That’s when she noticed the figure silhouetted in the window.

He hadn’t gone far then.

Relief tempered the chill on her skin.

Connal stood, palms braced against the glass, a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted guardian. The muscles across his back were strung with tension and she knew its source: the moon, hanging in the sky like a great glowing clock, counting down their days. When it was full again, their time was up.

Ash slipped quietly from the bed and padded across the oak floorboards.

He didn’t turn, though she knew he heard her. His hair, mussed by sleep, stuck out from his head in haphazard tufts. She was still getting used to the short spikes, learning to wrap her fingers in the silken strands and hold on. He’d admitted to hacking it off, but the ‘why’ of it, and the circumstances surrounding his bargain with the Morrígan, remained a tight-lipped mystery.

Ash’s breath caught as she approached. In the between, where light and shadows crossed, he looked like a fallen angel, vicious scars slashing his ribcage where the wings had been torn away. The brutal mementos of his time in Fomor caused her festering emotions to surface. Grief, guilt, anger. All this suffering in her name. It had to end.

‘You're not actually considering doing it, are you?’ she whispered into the night.

Connal shook his head, his forehead dropping to the glass. ‘I can’t kill him. Not now I know the truth.’

‘Of course you can’t. He's your brother.’

‘He wanted me dead. He ordered my execution. The Gods know I have just cause. But …’

Ash’s hands hovered over the scarred evidence of his torture. She couldn’t argue with that. Her fingers slipped up his nape in a familiar stroke, scratching lightly through his shorn hair. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder blade and pressed close.

Connal didn’t move, but the tension in his back unknotted in slow-breathed increments, loosening the muscles beneath the ridges of scarring.

‘But MacTire saved both our lives,’ Ash said quietly, ‘when Fite had us cornered. He extended his hand in friendship, and you took it. I understand, Big Bad. There has to be another way. My grandmother-’

‘Your grandmother will not be denied, Ash.’

He turned to her then and her hand fell to the curve of his throat. His eyes shone in the darkness, such a silver grey that the pupils seemed surrounded by moonlight. Ash almost missed what he was saying. ‘The Morrígan has set her price,’ he said. ‘If I don’t pay up, I’m condemning us both to die.’

Instinctively, her fingers brushed the silver pendant resting in the notch of his throat. The filigree knot of ravens was such a delicate thing against his muscle, and yet it held his life, just as her mother's ring held hers. The talismans were the only thing keeping them alive beyond the full moon and they both knew their power was conditional on MacTire’s death.

‘Let me go to her,’ she pleaded, not for the first time.

‘No.’ His face tightened, those gorgeous grey eyes turned to stone.

‘What are you trying to protect me from?’ she demanded.

‘Nothing good, Ash.’ His gaze diverted back to the night sky and a crack appeared in his voice. ‘Please, a ghrá. Let me deal with this. It's my bargain, my burden.’

‘Bullshit, Connal.’ Ash cupped that strong, stubbled jaw and forced him back into the room. ‘This is our lives,’ she said, drawing his gaze down to her, ‘our future. Nobody is going to die just so I can live. I’d rather accept my fate, and live out my time with you, however short that might be.’

His big hands framed her face, rough, warm and familiar, but there was something feral in the intensity of his stare. His eyes were lit from within, the embers of the wolf smouldering just beneath the surface. He spoke and his voice turned to gravel. ‘There is nothing I won't do for you, Ash. Nothing.’ He was so resolute and Ash swallowed down the lump in her throat. ‘There is nothing I won't give you. For you, I would do this. Just say the word.’

His hands knotted in her hair and he claimed her mouth in a savage kiss, sealing his promise and stealing her clarity. His lips took her protests and the thing inside her reared up in response, clawing him closer.

Nothing he wouldn’t give, even his own brother's head on a platter, but she was no Salome.

His intensity frightened her. He was a wild, dangerous creature, and when he touched her, she became infected by that wildness.

Her lips were swollen when she came up for air. 'No,’ she breathed. ‘I don’t want it. I only want you.’

'You have me,’ he growled as she raked the maul of scars corseting his back.

‘I’ve just got you back, Big Bad. I refuse to give up on us. You have to let me go to her.’

‘No,’ he growled louder, closing her into the circle of those powerful arms.

His erection pressed into her belly. God, he was a past master of distraction. The harder his body got for her, the more her defences softened. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she was powerless to resist. He only had to look at her that way, all animal heat and possession, and she could feel her resolve slipping away, along with any shred of humanity she might have left.

She felt her weight swept from under her as Connal laid her down on the plush sheepskin rug. Clothed only in moonlight, her breaths were ragged as he braced himself above her. His face hovered, those dark-lashed, glacial blue eyes deep-penetrating as he hooked his ankles around hers, dragging her legs wide. Her claws dug into the flexing surge of his ass and he answered her unspoken need, driving the thick girth of his cock home. Deep, so fucking deep, until their hip bones were locked. A growl rose from his throat and his lips parted to reveal the tips of long canines, promising the kiss of his teeth.

Maybe in the morning, when the residual draw of the moon was gone, when he wasn’t touching her, when his bite wasn’t sending her spiralling into ecstasy, maybe then she would remember why she needed to fight. But for now, drowning as she was in the earthy, male scent of him, surrender seemed a fair price to pay to feed her addiction. When it came to this man, she had no control to lose.

CHAPTER TWO

Later that morning, Ash woke with her heart in her throat. She’d been dreaming of the forest again, only this time the pursuit was on four legs. She’d been running with Connal, their prey a huge black wolf. They’d taken it down, she’d just locked her jaws around the beast’s jugular … She shivered at the lingering dream-taste of blood in her mouth.

When had these animalistic dreams replaced the nightmares about her mother? Around the time of her transformation, she supposed. Ash welcomed the reprieve, but couldn’t help feeling this was yet another piece of her old life that had drifted out of reach.

She opened her eyes to the sight of Connal’s fine ass disappearing into a pair of jeans. It was a criminal act to cover up a body as hard as his. An appreciative grin curved her lips, her eyes glued to every flex of tawny muscle. She found her voice when he straightened. ‘You’re going somewhere?’

Connal twisted to look at her, and though she knew she looked bed-dishevelled, his eyes darkened with heat. ‘Yeah. I made a promise, to a friend.’

She had to bite her tongue, hard, not to voice the question in her head. It sprang out of its Mac box and was on her lips before she caught it. Had he changed his mind about killing his brother? She couldn't ask him that. Just thinking about the blond king felt like a betrayal.

Ash raked her hair away from her face.

Connal crossed to her, a great beast prowling on silent feet, and she raised her eyes resignedly to his. He simply smiled at her, the smile that simultaneously stopped her heart and got her blood pumping with desire. Ash was still reeling from the effects of him when his mouth claimed hers, slow and deep and sweet, the friction of his stubble a wonderful burn on her skin. She hummed a protest as he pulled away, his words falling on her lips.

‘What?’ he smiled. ‘I can’t go out the door without you thinking I’m going to off someone? It’s not what you think. This isn’t about MacTire.’

She was the one pulling away this time, putting enough space between them that she could gauge his expression.

‘It’s not?’

He shook his head and she used his shoulders to pull herself up from the bed.

‘Then you’ll let me come with you,’ she announced.

His large, warm hands fit the dip of her waist, steadying her. ‘Better dress warm.’

Wow that was easy, Ash thought.

Scowling confusedly at his turning form, Ash snatched up her bra en route to the closet and pulled out a worn pair of comfortable jeans. She could only think he’d meant for her to go all along. Which made no sense if this was a murder mission.

‘I don’t have a coat,’ she frowned.

Her red velvet coat hadn’t survived the first wolf attack. She still mourned it, but knew she should be grateful it had been the only fatality that night. No, not the only one, she reminded herself. The wolf that attacked her met a grisly end. Connal had made sure of that. She still couldn't quite believe what he was, what she was. Ash glanced up to find him watching her button the jeans. He visibly shook himself out of staring and she bit back a smile. Good to know she wasn’t the only one who ogled.

‘Here,’ he said, ‘try this for size.’

No matter how many times she saw him naked, the sight of him peeling out of his clothes would always raise a flush in her cheeks. It was the way he moved: sinful and predatory.

His thick sweater hit her in the face and she caught it to her with a laugh, burying her nose against the fabric.

Ash eyed him over the top of the bundle. ‘What about you?’

‘I have my jacket,’ he shrugged.

The chunky black Aran sweater smelled divine as she tugged it over her head, even if it did swamp her. It fell clear to her knees and cocooned her in his scent, the lingering heat from his body seeping into her.

She tugged on a pair of flats and straightened to watch as he pulled t-shirts out of the laundry basket into a bag. His and hers. Is it going to be an overnighter? she wondered. 'Those are for the wash,’ she said, ‘I can get us fresh ones.'

'No, these are perfect.' He smiled over at her, taking stock of her appearance as he zipped up the bag. She didn’t miss the possessive appreciation in his gaze.

‘Where are your boots? You’ll ruin those.’ He indicated her red suede pumps with a tip of his chin and she went to hunt her boots from under the bed. She’d killed her coat, she wasn’t sacrificing shoes as well.

Ash perched on the bed to lace up, cocking a curious brow at him. ‘So, are you going to tell me where we’re going? We’re not burying a body this time, are we?’

‘No bodies. We’re going to see a woman about a dog.'

He grinned and Ash cast him a bemused frown. Was he serious, or winding her up? His face was so innocent, she really couldn’t tell. Yielding and more than a little curious, she pushed to her feet with a sigh. ‘Okay, Mr. Mysterious. Lead the way.’

Hands on her hips, she stared at the three vehicles. His Shadow rested on its kickstand beside the Cadillac hearse, and her Minor sat daintily in the larger car’s shadow. Connal bypassed his bike and her car and she followed slowly.

‘You sure we aren’t burying a body?’ The only times she’d ridden in the hearse had been to dump the wolf corpse and lay Setty to rest in Connal’s clearing. Neither was an experience she wanted to repeat.

‘I promise,’ he said, twining a curl of her hair around his fingers and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Relaxing into him, Ash felt his smile curve on her skin. Then he was moving away from her and unlocking the car. Ash popped open the passenger side door and settled into the worn seats, shifting over only enough to let him toss the bag into the back. She pulled the too-long sleeves over her hands and snuggled into his sweater while the car’s heating warmed up. ‘So who’s this friend whose promise we’re honouring?’ she asked.

Connal craned his head as they reversed, watching the elongated back end of the hearse. ‘Doc Madden,’ he said casually.

Ash hid her surprise at the revelation by looking down. She’d never thought he’d call the doctor ‘friend.’ It was another thing that had changed since they’d been apart, and maybe she should have realised earlier. Madden had been there with Connal in the temple to witness her mistake with Mac, and after. He’d been there when she’d escaped Form, told her things he couldn’t have known unless he’d been in Connal’s company. He’d offered to help her. Things had definitely changed during their time in Fomor.

‘The Doc asked me to watch out for Liath,’ Connal explained.

‘Liath?’ Ash asked, baffled. ‘But they don’t even know one another, do they?’ She recalled the blonde barmaid eyeing up her doctor chaperone at the club the night the wolves tried to take her. That seemed a lifetime ago, before they’d taken her son hostage in exchange for Ash, before Ash had almost died.

‘Madden is the boy’s father-’

Ash gaped openly, relief hard on the heels of surprise. Connal isn’t the father then. Good. The thought had crossed her mind more than once.

‘- but because he’s thegn,’ Connal went on, ‘and forbidden to procreate, he manipulated Liath’s memories, to protect her from MacTire’s solution for dealing with half-breeds.’

Ash shuddered at that word. It reeked of extermination. ‘He stole her memories?’ She frowned, ‘Is that even possible?’

‘Unorthodox, but very possible,’ Connal glanced in her direction. ‘The thegn are adept at psychic manipulation. Normally, it’s used only to protect the secrecy of the race. Doyle knew Madden’s secret, that’s why he targeted them, to keep Madden at heel while he claimed the glory for capturing you.’

‘Doyle is a bastard,’ Ash growled.

‘Hopefully a dead bastard,’ Connal agreed, ‘but as neither he nor Madden have shown face since the night of the fight, I thought Liath could use a little extra security, for when I’m not around.’

For when they were both dead.

Ash mulled over that terrifying thought in silence and let him drive, unaccosted by the questions leaping through her mind as they journeyed north at a speed that should defy the capabilities of the hearse.

It took them less than a half-hour to spill out into the rolling Irish countryside of the Boyne valley, passing signposts for the Neolithic tomb at Newgrange. Her university course had briefly delved into the mysticism of such artificial mounds. Maybe Connal would let them stop by on the way back, she thought. She’d never done the tourist attraction thing. Eventually, after a few more miles of pretty green countryside, they turned off the main road to rattle along a dirt track.

He was taking her into the middle of nowhere.

Again.

This was par for the course on almost all of their outings, she shouldn’t really have expected anything else.

Connal drew the hearse to a stop at a farm gate. Parking just off the lane, he grabbed up the bag from the back. Ash couldn’t see any buildings from her seat, there was a slight incline hiding whatever lay beyond the gate, but her curiosity would have had her following, even if Connal’s outstretched hand didn’t. She wrapped her fingers around his and let him pull her from the car. As they crested the hill together on foot, the dirt path widened. A fenced-in paddock reached off to one side of the road, leading to a grouping of buildings. The horses grazing on the short grass awakened memories of riding the magnificent creatures. There’d been stables at one of her foster homes, and her time living on that ranch had been freeing, though she hadn’t ridden since she’d left. Ash let go of Connal’s hand to venture closer to the paddock.

Palm up, she reached out over the fencing, clicking her tongue at the animals. A soft breeze teased the hair from her face and she smiled as a gorgeous chestnut mare stretched out her head.

‘Ash, careful, they won’t-’

She didn’t hear the rest of what he said over the screams of the horses. The wind had changed and the beautiful mare reared, its eyes rolling back in terror. It kicked away from the fencing and the small stampede charged around the enclosure in fearful circles.

Her scent.

They’d caught her scent, and they identified her as predator.

The rejection stung.

She’d been doing such a good job of forgetting.

Connal had her upper arms gripped tight, his fingers digging into flesh as he hauled her away from the fence.

‘Hey! What are you doing? Get away from them!’

Ash’s head whipped towards the new voice, her lip curling in an instinctive warning at the obvious reprimand in the tone. Running towards them, clad all in riding gear, the girl vaulted the fence, her voice softening as she herded the horses into calming. They danced nervously but stopped their racing.

No older than Ash, she was very attractive, even as she stormed towards them with her mouth drawn and her eyes glaring.

Halfway to them, her pretty face changed. Gone was the anger, her mouth went lax with surprise and then spread into a wide smile that could have rivalled the sun for brightness. The girl bounded towards them and it was Ash’s turn to glare. All the stranger’s enthusiasm was aimed at Connal, who was standing calm at Ash’s back.

‘Connal? Oh my God, Connal, it’s you!’’

Ash braced for impact. No way in hell was she moving so this woman could hug her man. Or tackle him. Her approach was exuberant, but the girl managed to put the brakes on before she ploughed right into them.

‘Ash, this is Sadhbh.’ Sive, Connal pronounced it, his voice holding a warmth that poked the small, jealous part of her. It was clear they knew each other. Sadhbh didn’t let him get any more introductions out before she was telling him everything he’d obviously missed.

She’d got into Veterinary college and was almost qualified. Ash half listened. She really was gorgeous, in a ‘town and country’ way. She wore it well, auburn hair wind-tousled, a spattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, dark green eyes framed by thick lashes.

‘I’ll have to look you up when I come down to Dublin,’ Sadhbh finished, smiling. Ash didn’t growl, but she really wanted to. Points for restraint, right? Of course, Connal would know beautiful women.

Connal’s fingers wrapped in her hair, smoothing down the tension in her spine with a wide palm. She hadn’t even realised she’d gone rigid and willed the muscles to unclench under his stroking as he leaned in, speaking softly so only she could hear. ‘I’ve known her since she wore pigtails and braces.’ Simple words, and yet she knew he was reassuring her. He still saw Sadhbh as a little girl. That was good. But why the hell were they here?

Maybe her tension had been palpable because she looked up to find the other girl watching her strangely. Ash tried a smile. It came off more as a baring of teeth.

That was all it took to get them moving.

Sadhbh’s eyes darted away to smile up at Connal and Ash struggled not to roll hers.

‘Are you here to see Mammy?’ she asked. ‘She’ll be round back, in the kennels.’ Sadhbh waved in the direction of one of the buildings and Connal ruffled her auburn hair as he laced his fingers through Ash’s and led them away. She expected the other girl to follow along, chattering, but she looked back and Sadhbh was over the fence and getting a grip on the mane of a palomino. Huh. Guess this was something they did alone.

That was more than fine with her.

The walk around the whitewashed, thatched farmhouse didn’t take long and Ash found herself fascinated with the quaintness of it all. It was adorable. Smoke curled from the chimney, drifting up to join the clouds. Connal hadn’t brought her there to admire the scenery though. He was leading her to the outbuildings behind it, where the paving stones disappeared into mud and dust. No wonder he insisted on the boots, her suede shoes would have been destroyed.

Out of a shiny metal door, scuffed with dirt, another woman came, oblivious to them. She was older and flame haired, her round, careworn face clean of makeup, framed by mad curls that couldn’t be contained. She pushed them back as she hefted a black plastic bucket off the floor. Connal stepped forwards, making the silver wolfhound at her feet growl out a warning. Little more than a pup, the dog was all oversized paws and gangly limbs. Ash smiled at its threats even as the woman scolded it.

‘Maura. Good to see you,’ Connal called out as they approached.

Her head snapped up, her face falling into a familiar lax surprise. Sadhbh had worn the exact same expression. ‘Connal Savage? Holy mother of God, is that you? What happened to your hair?’ Her accent was so strong, Ash could have touched it.

‘Ah, felt like a change, you know?’ He shrugged and gave her a half-smile, scruffing a hand through the short spikes, but Maura’s eyes narrowed on him, like she really didn’t ‘know’ at all.

‘Not the only change, I’d say.’ The woman’s curious gaze heated Ash’s cheeks. ‘Aren’t you going