Game over. Delirious with need, he gripped Shade’s wrist and held his hand steady as he bit deeply into the bag. Sin’s essence flowed down his throat, lighting him up from the inside. He moaned at the taste, at the relief from the painful hunger that had ridden him hard. He wished Sin were here. Wished he could sink into her body as he ravaged her throat. He’d take her hard and fast, listening to her screams of pleasure… her screams… her blood.

Con… stop. The voice barely penetrated his feeding frenzy. Sin was beneath him, her struggles ineffective against his new strength and need.

Yo, get off me. No, not happening. He’d have to bite again, because the vein he was at had run out… Maybe he’d drained her. Terror welled up through the bloodlust, piercing the addiction. “Con! Fuck!” Male voice. Deep.

Con blinked, coming out of his haze to see Shade beneath him. Con’s erection was pushed hard against Shade’s thigh, and yeah… not cool.

Panting and shaking like a leaf, Con scrambled off him. “Ah… I don’t… that was, ah… not for you.” “I f**king hope not,” Shade muttered. He rolled easily to his feet, seemingly unperturbed, but then, he was a sex demon, and Con doubted much fazed him when it came to that. And seeing how Con was a thousand years old and had done pretty much everything, it shouldn’t faze him, either. Except that Shade was the brother of the female he craved, and… yuck.

Con remained on the floor, sitting on his haunches. He scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly exhausted. “Gods, I hate this.” “Come to the hospital.” The black leather of Shade’s jacket creaked as he folded his arms across his chest, and Con knew this argument was a losing one. But his stubborn self couldn’t cave in that easily.

“I can’t.” “You let Sin warm up to you, and then you smashed her under your boot.” Shade’s already deep voice dropped an octave. “The least you can do is get yourself clean. And, buddy, I told you, kick the habit so you aren’t a danger to Sin, or we’ll put you in the ground.”

Fair enough, and no less than what Con deserved. “The detox… it’ll be ugly. You’ll have to keep me caged or bound.”

“I’m pretty much an expert at that.” There was a glint of wry amusement in Shade’s eyes as he gestured to the door. “Let’s go.”

Sin needed sex.

The need wasn’t so bad yet that it hurt, but it wouldn’t be long before the cramps, sweats, and nausea hit her. She’d put it off because the idea of being with anyone other than Con made her sick. It made her cry, too, but she wasn’t about to admit that to anyone. Not even Lore. She’d spent the night at his place, the North Carolina shack he rarely used anymore now that he lived in Italy with Idess. Thankfully, he’d stayed away, even though he probably knew she’d been there. Still, he and the other three brothers had tried to call her about every fifteen minutes, and she finally had to shut off her phone just to keep her sanity. This morning when she’d checked her messages, she’d found forty.

She’d deleted them all without listening. But the text message she’d just gotten from Shade as she sat at the bar in a demon club made her heart stall. Apparently, Con was at UG, and it would be best if she stayed away.

No problem. Being felt up by the handsome, crimson-skinned Sora demon behind her was what she wanted to be doing anyway.

Her heart knocked on her rib cage, calling her a liar. The Sora’s strong hands gripped her hips, his broad chest blanketed her back, and the bulge in his jeans was an insistent prod on her ass. Not long ago, she’d have responded, would have had him in the bathroom or on the dance floor, making use of his multitalented tail by now. Instead, all she could think about was Con.

“Bastard,” she snarled into her beer mug. “That’s not a nice thing to say to the male who is going to make you scream his name,” he said, as he nuzzled her neck. His teeth clinked against the chain around her throat, and she swore she felt it tighten.

She drained her beer as his hand slipped under her leather skirt, his fingertips brushing the silky material of her underwear.

Pain streaked through her, radiating from the male’s hand all the way to her organs, which suddenly felt like they were shifting, rearranging, tying themselves into knots. Gasping, she leaped off the bar stool and dashed outside, where the unique, moldy smell of Bangkok made her stomach rebel on the cobblestone walk. What the hell was going on with her?

Taking great gulps of polluted air, she sagged against the side of the building, which housed an underground prostitution and drug parlor in the front, and the demon dance club in the back. The sounds of the raunchy nightlife drowned out the throbbing pulse in Sin’s ears; it was four a.m., and this section of the city was still alive. Every vice, every fetish, no matter how illegal and disgusting, could be satisfied in Bangkok, and the universal truth remained in effect here: wickedness preferred the cover of darkness.

As the nausea waned, Sin’s needs came back front and center, an aching, shivery presence. She’d never hated what she was more than right now. Before Con, her body had been a tool, something as impersonal as a hammer. Now it felt like hers, like she finally owned it, controlled it, and the idea of sharing it with anyone but Con…

Fuck. Get over yourself. She brushed by the bouncer at the door and strode directly into the crowd of people writhing on the dance floor. Seizure-inducing lights flashed to the techno-pop beat of the music as Sin eased against a large male Bedim. They were a sensual, dark-skinned race whose young males were forced out of their community for ten years to experience life outside. Upon returning, they would be given a harem of females, but until then, they had to find pleasure elsewhere.

He turned into her, his masculine smile something that should have started her engines. Her body was full of need, but as he smoothed his palms down her bare arms, only cold shivers followed. “Touch me,” she growled, and he grinned, moved his hands to her br**sts. Instantly, her stomach rebelled again, and she tore away from him, panting, praying she wouldn’t lose the rest of her liquid dinner all over the dance floor. Quickly, she grabbed another male and swung him around. She palmed his groin… and lost it. Totally blew chunks on his spandex zebra tights. Which, really, needed to be put out of their misery, because hello, the ’80s were long gone.

Humiliation rocked her, and she stumbled out of the bar. Her lust hadn’t eased, and neither had the want for Con. Had he bonded with her after all? A horrible thought spun up. When male Sems bonded to a female, they couldn’t so much as get it up for any female other than their mate. What if female Sems went through something similar? Something that would make her unable to ever sleep with another male?

Head swimming with the horrific possibilities, she hopped a Harrowgate to UG. When she stepped out, she saw Tayla speaking with Serena, who was holding a squirming Stewie in her arms. Knowing at least one of her brothers would be nearby, Sin looked around and, sure enough, Eidolon, dressed in his usual green scrubs, emerged from one of the exam rooms.

Sin marched up to him. “Where is Con?”

Eidolon handed a chart to a nurse. “He’s detoxing. You can’t see him.”

“I don’t care if he’s dancing ballet in the cafeteria. I need him.”

“Sin, you can’t. You’ll only set him back—”

“I don’t care!” She was practically shouting now, and her sisters-in-law were moving toward them. Dammit. She didn’t need more witnesses to her weakness and embarrassment. She’d find Con on her own. She shoved past her brother but he grabbed her arm and swung her back around.

“I won’t let you near him.”

“Then you can watch me die.” She broke away from him, unable to bear his touch, not because it made her ill, but because she couldn’t deal with affection right now.

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Remember when I said Con tried to bond with me? Well, it looks like he didn’t just try. He did.” For a moment, Eidolon stood there, frowning, and then his eyes shot wide. “So you can’t…” “No, I can’t.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly. Now where is he?”

Twenty-five

Con hadn’t expected to be housed in a room decked out like a Hilton hotel suite or anything, but he had figured the Sem boys would at least provide him with heat.

Not so much. Apparently, ice-cold temperatures helped hasten blood addiction detox. How, Con didn’t know, but he half-suspected the boys were torturing him, and it was working. He was freezing his ass off. Well, he froze when he wasn’t sweating out a fever.

Shivering in the scrubs E had thrown at him, he paced back and forth in the room, where all the furniture except a bed had been removed. He was chained to the floor with a manacle around his ankle that allowed him to move around—but only during the short periods of lucidity, like the one he was experiencing now. Usually, he was a violent, pissed-off animal, and when he felt the starvation begin to ride him again, he’d hit a call button, and one of the brothers, along with several orderlies, would chain him to the bed, sedate him, and jam a feeding tube down his throat.

The human blood they forced into his stomach was keeping him alive, even though most of it came back up. Fuck, he was miserable. He’d looked in the bathroom mirror, had barely recognized the gaunt face or the hollow eyes staring back at him. He was so weakened that after only a couple of minutes of pacing he’d have to rest, but then, his periods of noncrazy lasted only about five minutes, anyway.

He glanced at his watch. In about ninety seconds, he’d slide back into insanity, where nothing but hunger, violence, and Sin existed.

Sin. He ached for her. His entire body felt bruised, and the center of his chest stung, telling him his yearning was more than physical. He missed her, couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid little things, like how she smiled. How she ate. How her voice went low and smoky when he touched her. Holy hell, he would give anything to be with her like a normal person.