“She’s not yours,” Tomb growled quietly.
I shook my head, looking at Risk incredulously. “You made me cry, you asshole!” I screeched. “You tricked me into mating you so you could be in business with Collector,” I spat.
“Who the fuck is Collector?” Crow asked.
“No idea,” Tomb murmured, eyes flicking between Risk and me.
I stared Risk down. “You took something that was special to me—to my spider—and tainted it. I’m not disillusioned enough to think that we had some bullshit love at first sight moment. But I did think we were compatible. Mating is special, or at least it should be. My spider picked you, and you stomped all over her.”
Risk sighed and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt. I was trying really hard not to notice how sexy he looked with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms. “Hmm. It seems I need to explain myself,” he said, sinking to his knees on the floor so that he could look me in the eye.
“There’s nothing to explain,” I griped, smacking his hand when he tried to lift the hem of my dress.
His dark eyes snapped to my face. “Once I get these bullets out of you, I’m going to explain everything, and then I’m going to make you cream my dick while these two dumbasses watch,” he grumbled as his hands gripped just above the bullet hole in my thigh. My face heated at his words, but before I could argue, he pushed my dress up, exposing my bloodied legs in the process.
All three of the males hissed when they saw the amount of blood still pumping from my leg, the wound looking gruesome and deep. “Fuck, Wid,” Tomb said, a flash of guilt covering his face. “It’s my fault the bullet got past me and hit you.”
“Remember our talk about not being allowed to feel guilty?” I said to him. “This applies to you now.”
He shot me an unconvinced look, his lips thinning into a line, but he didn’t argue further.
The sound of tearing jerked my attention back to the demon in front of me, who’d just ripped the fabric of my dress at my shoulder. My hands automatically flew up to hold my dress to my chest, not allowing it to slip down. But Risk’s full attention was on the wound. “This one went clean through, so at least there’s that,” he said, gently checking the exit wound on my back.
I tried to swat him away again but was unsuccessful. I didn’t want his hands on me. I certainly didn’t want the thrill I got when his touch roved through my system. My body responded to him in earnest even though I tried to hold those feelings at bay. I felt comforted by his tenderness, and I hated myself for that instinctual response. Would this be how it was from now on? Would I always crave him? Would there always be an invisible chain keeping us together? More tears burned my eyes.
“This is going to hurt, okay?” he said before digging his fingers into the plush skin of my thigh. It felt unsanitary and gory, but he was rooting around the wound, burrowing deeper and deeper until he was tugging at the bullet lodged in the tissue of my muscles.
“Motherfucker!” I screamed, my body nearly launching off the couch.
“Hold her down,” Risk snapped.
Tomb and Crow glowered at him, obviously not liking that he was causing me pain, but Crow was the first to realize that it needed to be done. He sat beside me on the couch and gathered me against him, my body slumping over his chest as his arms banded around my middle.
“Try to stay still,” Risk told me before I felt his fingers begin to ferret around again, making another scream rip from my throat.
“Hurry up!” Tomb demanded. “You’re hurting her.”
“I wasn’t the one that allowed our mate to get shot,” Risk fired back accusingly.
Tomb’s fists clenched, but I reached up and grabbed his hand before it could turn to stone and smash into Risk’s face again. “Hey,” I said, hating the shame that coated his eyes. “It’s not your fault. I’ll be okay as soon as he gets the fucking thing out.”
Tomb knelt down and brought my hand to his lips, skimming a kiss over my knuckles. I tried to latch onto that feeling, even as Risk’s fingers swiped around, making more blood ooze out. Sweat coated my skin, and a cry of pain slipped out of me as the demon’s blood-soaked fingers finally grasped the bullet and plucked it out.
“There,” he said, holding it in all its bloody glory. It was strange how something so small could cause so much pain.
Tomb’s fist shot out, and he grabbed the bullet, crushing it in his stone fist. We all watched as metal flakes drifted to the floor.
“I’m sorry I did not protect you better,” Tomb said, his head bowed.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. If anyone should still be apologizing, it was me. I opened my mouth to talk some sense into him, but Risk stood up and said, “Time to heal, Wicked Love.”
I glanced up at him warily. “I’ll heal just fine now that the bullet is out.”
He gestured to the wounds that were still weeping blood. “You aren’t a simple vampire anymore, Motley.”
“What does that mean? I won’t heal?” I asked, frowning.
“Oh, you’ll heal,” Risk assured me. “But not the same way. Your spider makes her mates indestructible for a reason. You are now sustained through your bond to us,” he explained.
My eyes widened. “Are you saying that every time I’m hurt, I need to fuck one of you so I can feed and heal?”
Risk grinned. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Rather pleasant way to heal, wouldn’t you say?”
“Then Tomb and I will take care of her. She doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Crow said at my back, his arms tightening around me.
Risk cast a bored
