Bound by Blood: Two Novellas of Paranormal Romance Read Free

him. As his hand skirted her hip, the world stopped. His heart broke and reassembled itself, gravity shifted and his breath stopped coming.
    For half a second, nothing existed but long brown hair, twisted into a thick braid, hanging down the back of his Other. She had pale, smooth skin, a heartshaped face and wide blue eyes. "'Scuse me," she mumbled.
    Drake stood, gap-mouthed, watching her walk away – the swing of her hips, the twitch of that long braid. He wanted to curl his fingers into it and–"
    Chad slapped him on the back and pushed him forward. "Let's go man. You can flirt later. We got gear to set up."He looked at Drake's Other. "We'll be at McGovern's tonight, if you want to come."
    Drake's mouth opened silently, mind spinning. The bell above the diner door dinged as Chad walked out. In a daze, Drake followed, eyes locked on his mystery girl.
    Chad waited impatiently outside the diner. "Man, she was hot, but how long has it been since you got laid?"One eyebrow cocked upward.
    "Not," Drake shook his head. "What?"Traffic on the streets of St. Paul was heavy, rush hour having started in earnest while they ate. Cars whizzed by as foot traffic flowed around them. The sun sank lower by the minute, stretching for the horizon.
    "How long since you got laid?" Chad dragged out the words, enunciating carefully.
    Drake laughed, deep and loud. The laughter took him over, rolling through his limbs until he was clutching his side and leaning against the diner to stay on his feet. "So," he struggled for a breath. "So not even close to the issue."He clapped Chad on the shoulder. "Let's go, man. Like you said, we got a show to set up."
    The pair crossed the street back to the hotel and found the rest of their group waiting in the lobby. "Gentlemen." Kevin's voice boomed across the tile lobby. "Let's go rearrange a bar."
    The ride to McGovern's was short – only a few blocks – so no one bothered with the bunks, crowding instead in the seating quarters. They spilled out en masse as the bus door opened behind the still-dark bar. The band and Kevin walked directly inside to find the manager and avoiding helping with the heavy lifting. Drake directed the rest of the roadies to the back of the truck.
    The guys knew the routine; set up took half the time it did with some of the bands Drake had toured with. He slid the truck door closed again and one of the guys pulled it to a space in the back of the rear lot.
    Busy work kept his mind distracted, but his body knew something was missing. A twisting in his stomach, an ache in his crotch – silent reminders of her absence. His Other lingered in his thoughts, images of her hair, her face, her Otherness. Recognition tugged at the edge of his consciousness, something he should know but couldn't put words to.
    He moved blindly through his duties, feet following the rhythm he'd set up centuries ago. Half an hour ahead of their opening set, the stage was ready – instruments tuned, amps wired up and stray picks littering the floor. As the lights dimmed, Drake made his way backstage. Groupies flooded the floor seconds after the doors opened, squinting into the darkness off stage, no doubt hoping for a glimpse of the band.
    The stage lights went black and Glenn pushed passed Drake, shuffling toward the microphone. The wailing of Rok's guitar split the air, a keening shriek that threw the fans off kilter and brought them to their knees. The spot light flashed on, illuminating Glenn, shirtless and ready for his adoring fans. He gripped the microphone in both hands, head tipped to the side, waiting for his cue.
    Having seen the show hundreds of times, Drake scanned the crowds, looking for options, he told himself. In reality, he scanned for her, hoping that the shift in perspective hadn't only been on his end. Over and over, he searched the crowd, fruitlessly wanting. Sidhe littered the crowd, half a dozen or more, but a traveling companion just wasn't enough anymore.
    He wanted his Other –