Infernal Bonds by Holly Evans Page A

and hard work; there was a reason why I hadn’t had one before.  
    Against my better judgement I reached out and placed my hand on his, looking into his face as I said, “You will help us stop the hound. Then, if we can’t break this bond, you will continue to help us, as hunters.”
    He pursed his lips and began to lean closer to me once more. His head tilted slightly one side, his gaze intense as he searched for something within me. My heart rate quickened as I watched him. The fragility slipped away, his mouth hardened and his muscles began to relax once more.
    After a long moment he looked away and said, “No one has cared for me before. I don’t want to be alone.”
    Guilt and pain bled into the back of my mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and it had been such a long time since someone had shared my bed. Still, he was an infernal beast. I couldn’t take him, and I certainly wouldn’t use him. I began to wonder if, perhaps, there was more to it than that. My mind flitted to the stiletto knife only a foot away to my left, tucked under a decorative pillow. If he was trying something, then I’d be able to reach it quickly; it was whether it would do enough harm that was the question.  
    “Evelyn, if I was going to hurt you, I would have done so by now.” The bite in his tone took me by surprise. “It is in my best interests to look after you. I made an honest request.”
    I hated that cursed bond. I made a mental note to speak to Elise about how to block him from my thoughts. His lips had curled back to reveal his increasingly sharp teeth, even in the darkness I could see how his eyes had hardened. He leant closer to me, pushing.  
    “This isn’t easy for me either, Evelyn,” he growled, his teeth dangerously close to my throat.
    He didn’t give me a chance to respond; he stood and stalked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I cursed him under my breath, I hadn’t asked to be bonded to the damn beast. The idea of treating him like a large dog crossed my mind, surely he’d be far less trouble as a dog. There would be less emotional bullshit involved then, fewer sexy smiles, more fur over those tight muscles. My mind went to forbidden places… I needed a night with a man. Not a beast.  

    A fist banging against wood woke me up. I buried my head under the blankets trying to hide from whatever dared wake me at the god-awful hour.  
    “Evie! Stop fucking around, Evie!”
    “Why the fuck are you waking me, Quin? I do not love pancakes that much!”
    “Dimitri needs our help. Hurry up.”
    “Dimitri can fuck himself.”
    “Evie, a necromancer has brought back a horde of dead. Get some clothes on, we need to go.”
    I threw the covers off and pulled on the clothes closest to hand. I hopped through the door pulling my jeans on when I remembered that Lysander was around. He stood watching me, shirtless. Scars trailed along his ribs, long thin white lines that slithered around to his back.  
    I looked away as I did my jeans up and growled, “Get some clothes on, hound. You’re no use half naked.”
    He gave me a crooked knowing smile. “Reconsidering, Evelyn?”
    I glared at him; I needed a man, not a beast.  
    Quin said, “Evie?”
    I shrugged and waved him off as I pulled my boots on. “What do we know about the necromancer and the dead? Where are they?”
    Lysander stood a little too close to me as I did up my second boot.  
    “They’re at the big Olsany Cemetery, it’s only ten minutes away.”
    My mind flashed back to the necromancer I’d bumped into when I had to retrieve a finger from a powerful old witch in a crypt there. Serena had insisted I retrieve it so she could make a protective amulet so the new stronger witch in the city wouldn’t kill her. She tried to kill me as thanks. The way the necro’s eyes had roved over the skeleton sent shivers down my spine; the memory of his cracked tongue sliding over his dry lips made bile rise. I tried to focus on more pleasant