Reining Him In (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 5) Read online

  His wicked renown suggested she brace for his kiss, but the hesitation in his fingers while they retreated from her body betrayed his carefree façade.

  This was not a simple lust. Not for either of them.

  ***

  The music droned in his ears. The earthy aftertaste of whiskey coated his mouth. Blood pulsed through his veins. Yet his muscles had stopped obeying his brain, and Price froze, lost in Daji’s round, searching eyes.

  After he’d noticed that motherfucker’s hands on her, a primal instinct in him had raged. But when Daji had shoved at the asshole, he’d lost it.

  If the man hadn’t scrambled off, he might have crushed his throat with his bare hands.

  With him, she’d allowed his touch, she trusted his caress.

  Why? Everyone who believed they knew him claimed he only ever sought a piece of ass.

  Daji was not that. Not at all.

  Fucking gorgeous, yes. A tough-ass shell, definitely. Even so, he’d seen through the cracks in her armor. Why the hell had she permitted him? No idea, but damn, he almost hoped she’d see through his too.

  Her hand shot to cover her mouth, eyes widening in horrified shock.

  Ah, shoot. The whiskey.

  She lurched to the side, rushing for the ladies’ room.

  Price pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and followed after her. Crisis averted. For a second, he’d considered going soft and touchy-feely.

  Bloody mushy.

  He slicked back his hair, tightening the thong clasping his locks at the base of his neck, and leaned against the wall outside the ladies’ room. Facing the dance floor, he scanned for his companions. Mila had forgotten him. She and the other two rubbed themselves over some lucky bastard.

  He crossed his feet and stared at the ceiling. The music switched, the songs blending into one another. Flocks of women drifted in and out of the restroom. An ache panged through his legs, so he shuffled them and rolled his shoulders. How long was she going to be? He flipped out his phone and checked the time. After two a.m. She’d been in there for a while.

  The restroom was empty save for her, so he ducked inside. “Daji?” One stall door was closed. She didn’t answer, so he locked the main door behind him and rapped on the stall. “Daji?”

  Silence. He bent and caught sight of a pair of heels, followed by buckled legs. “I’m going to come in, okay?”

  A soft whimper. “No, please, don’t.” Her voice was shaky and high-pitched. If he didn’t know better, he might assume she was crying.

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all been there, acquainting ourselves with the porcelain god.” He shouldered the door open, snapping through the lock. Claude—SUTOL’s owner—was going to kick his ass for damaging her property, but he’d pay for the repairs later.

  Daji wasn’t worshipping the toilet. Instead, she huddled against the wall, trembling hands wrapped around knees drawn to her chest.

  No ripe stench permeated the air, so she hadn’t been sick. One glimpse of her pale skin and dilated pupils declared she wasn’t well either.

  He raked a hand through his locks, tucking the stray hairs into his ponytail. Dammit. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing—nursing people.

  Sure, he took care of his little brother, but it was more of a “gin or whiskey” kind of looking after.

  “Please.”

  He braced for her to tell him to screw off again.

  “Please. Help me.”

  Price tilted his head at her. He’d bet she’d never uttered those words in her life—her very long existence. They couldn’t have been easy to speak. Wouldn’t have been for him.

  He knelt beside her. “Sure, what can I do?”

  She raised glazed eyes to him. “I must feed.”

  Oh. If she weren’t half asleep with weakness, he would have enjoyed the compliment to his ego. He hadn’t anticipated Daji conceding to bedding him so fast. Had expected her to exude at least a front of disinterest. While a bathroom stall wasn’t where he’d picturing pleasuring her, waltzing her through the nightclub in her state would be detrimental to her rule. She was too weak.

  “Sure, sweetheart.” He grabbed his belt buckle.

  Her eyes jerked open. “No, not from you!”

  Her protesting burst of energy terminated his thickening erection. He launched to his feet and stormed to the door. “Fuck no. I’m not pimping you out, Daji.” He gave his head a violent shake and snatched the knob. That was twisted, even for him.

  “You must help me.”

  He tensed at her plea, but his ego wasn’t cut out for these games. Daji could take her schemes and shove them up her—

  “I’m dying.”

  He whipped around. Her lids slid shut but she held up her hand. “I’m not sure I can trust you, but I don’t have any other choice. I won’t make it out of here without your aid.” Her hand dropped to her thigh and she cracked open her eyes, regarding him through hooded slits. “Think of my people like a tree. If the Queen comprises the roots, her people are the leaves. We are linked, energy flowing between us. The Red Death has torn through the human realm, cutting off the húli jīng food supply, and they are withering into nothingness. In turn, my reign is coming to an end—I am dying.” A heavy sigh sagged her shoulders. “I cannot feed from your jīng, or any male’s. I am the Queen.”

  Dying? He frowned, a chill icing into his chest. If she didn’t feed off jīng energy, what other—Oh, fuck. The myths about her were true. A gruesome fact he’d shoved into the recesses of his brain, but it slammed forward.

  Daji didn’t ask him to find a man to suck jīng from, she requested him to hand over her next victim—so she could tear out his heart.

  And eat it.

  The disgust twisting Price’s features was not unfamiliar to Daji, yet on this man’s face, the revulsion cut deep. Few were privy to the truth behind her method of feeding.

  The morbidity of her notoriety kept her in power. Feared. Strong.

  She was too weak to care about his judgment, but she had to survive, and in order to do so, she must convince him to aid her. He hadn’t been put off when he’d deemed her request was for his jīng. Admittedly, her tongue had swept her mouth, in anticipation of his taste. His raw vitality.

  Yet she required something even more potent to replenish her energy. Her craving for him had spurred this clenching hunger. If not for her attraction, she might have lasted another week or two.

  Now, the thirst would not be quenched. The tremors would not be soothed.

  She had no choice; she must feed.

  From a human heart, yes, but not as everyone believed. She did not go about murdering humans and drinking their blood, feasting on their writhing bodies. That rumor was courtesy of her late husband, and she’d not corrected it because the lie graced her reign with fortitude.

  Price shook his head, his locks falling out of place again.

  She shoved to her feet and smoothed one strand back from his face. “Please…Price.” Emphasizing his given name raised the intimacy between them and might coax his aid.

  His hair fell loose, slipping through her fingers which rested against his cheek. He swallowed hard, his throat clearing, and he closed his hand over hers, lowering them.

  Right. She didn’t excel at seduction, but she was a damn good Queen. She hadn’t lied—she would die in this stall if he didn’t help her. “Name it.”

  His left eye twitched. “I’ll help you, but don’t assume for a second I can be bought.”

  Fluidly, he wound his hands around her and shifted her into his arms. He unlocked the door and carried her from the restroom. She was about to request he ensure the discretion of her exit, but already he headed for a darkened corridor. Daji rested her head against his chest and sighed. The pangs in her stomach amplified, but she ignored them. Her lids were heavy, begging to slide shut, but if she did, she might never open them again, so she clung to the bold scent of this male, burrowing her nose against his collarbone.

  “Where?” Hi
s question was gruff and he jerked his chin toward the portal hidden behind a sheer curtain in the supply closet.

  “Set me down.” She wobbled as her feet planted on the floor, but Price positioned one hand under her elbow and the other around her waist. Raising her palm, she pressed it to the gateway. The haze lifted, clearing to reveal a hospital room. He nudged her through and together they stepped inside. A rhythmic beeping pulsed in her ears and she stepped closer to the bed. The human resting upon it—an elderly female—opened her eyes. She nodded and smiled at Daji, closing her eyes.

  The twisting in Daji’s stomach augmented. She murmured over her shoulder, “You do not have to watch.”

  Hovering in the shadows, Price turned his back.

  Good. Let him presume the worst. Everyone else did.

  She clasped the woman’s hand—growing cooler as her death crept closer—and brushed the white strands from her forehead. This woman was a dutiful, faithful servant of the Jade Emperor. When her soul was reborn, she would be rewarded for her service.

  Contrary to the rumors, Daji did not feast upon babes and innocents. They would not satisfy her hunger even if she did. What she required was qì—life force energy. While she didn’t masticate the human heart, she did consume its energy—love.

  A human heart which had loved well provided strong nourishment.

  This woman had loved well, and long. Daji bent and whispered her gratitude while swirling her fingertips on the woman’s wrist. She drew out the energy, coaxing it to form a haze above the woman’s body. A whitish-blue luminescence, cloudlike in its formation, enveloped both her and the woman.

  The beeping of the monitor slowed.

  Daji closed her eyes, parted her lips, and drank deeply.

  ***

  Holy shit. Price hadn’t wanted to turn around, but morbid curiosity won out. He’d anticipated viewing Daji slathered in blood.

  He’d not expected this.

  The soft glow. The gentle murmurs. The peace etched into the dying woman’s face.

  It was beautiful.

  An exhale of relief slumped his shoulders. At least he hadn’t become an accomplice in slaughtering someone for Daji. Although his trepidations were assuaged, this picture stirred a million more questions in his brain.

  If the myths lied about this, what other facts had they twisted? Why did she let them persist?

  So much for his night of normalcy. The roller coaster of revelations hadn’t stopped whipping him up and down. Every time he’d been convinced of the worst of Daji, her actions flung his perceptions in his face.

  And hell, but he craved more.

  She was far more complex and intriguing than any woman he’d ever met. Full of contradictions. Strong, yet weak. Steeled, yet vulnerable. Capable, yet she’d needed his protection.

  Being her protector satisfied a deep, dark longing inside him. He’d never aspired to rescue the damsel, but save the Queen?

  Damn sure appealed to him.

  The energy floated into Daji, and the monitors beside her went off, beeping like crazy as the life departed from the woman. Time to go.

  Except, Daji sank beside the woman.

  He rushed to her and scooped her into his arms, dragging her toward the portal. She murmured into the gateway and he sprinted through before the nurses encountered them.

  The portal didn’t land them in the nightclub, though. He blinked and recognized the stone walls of Daji’s palace. Her bedchamber, to be exact. Sighing, he placed her on the same bed she’d kicked him out of earlier. Her head lolled to the side and his heart flipped. He leapt atop her and patted her cheek. “Daji?”

  Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned.

  His racing pulse calmed. She was breathing.

  “I will be fine, thank you. I simply must sleep.” She curled onto her side and fell into a deep slumber. Her slow, steady inhalations soothed his fears. The feeding had worked, but he had a thousand questions for her.

  Tomorrow, he’d demand those answers. He paced before finally sinking into the plush cushions of the armchair in the corner. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to half-drift into sleep.

  The room was still dark when a shuffling ruffled from the bed. He jolted awake and stalked toward the sound.

  “Too tight.” Daji wheezed and tugged at her dress.

  “Here, let me.” He pulled down the zipper, exposing a column of luscious skin. Because he hosted Horse, his eyesight was better than most humans in the dark. Not as clear as those with nocturnal spirit animals, but not terrible.

  A fact he cursed at this moment. He eased the zipper farther, and fuck, but Daji wasn’t wearing panties. Her lush ass begged him to grip her and clutch her to him as he drove deep. No denying he was an ass man, and Daji’s was the finest he’d ever viewed. He hungered to nip his teeth across her soft flesh, knead and slap her until she whimpered for him to take her.

  Then he would part those ample curves and expose the treasure of glistening pink flesh. Swipe his tongue across her opening and growl deep into her core.

  “Price?”

  He jerked back and fisted his hands. She rose, clasping the leather dress to her front, her gaze glued to his pelvis.

  He glanced down. Ah, damn. He was as hard as all fuck. Fun facts about fox spirits—their eyesight was much better than Horse’s, and they also sensed with precision the degree of a man’s arousal, even manipulated his lust to their requirements.

  No chance in hell Daji missed the bulge of his straining boner.

  She’d already made it crystal clear she didn’t feed off males, so this was bloody awkward. He’d done a fine job to this point of not allowing attraction between them to manifest in his body. Counting his heartbeats, he waited for revulsion to bleed through her stare.

  Instead, her pretty pink tongue swiped across her bottom lip. Her breathing shortened. He hadn’t known her for even one day yet, but already they’d been through the wringer more times than he could count.

  Maybe his ice queen wasn’t frozen solid. What if she just needed someone to show her how to melt?

  He dropped his hand to his belt buckle. Her cat-like perusal followed his actions, trained on him with voracious precision.

  Oh yeah. He knew his way around a fox spirit. The predatory instincts ruling them. When kiss came to thrust, he dominated them.

  But this one? So used to being the one in charge, would she submit to him?

  He snapped open the buckle. Her eyes widened a glimmer. Driven by desire, once a húli jīng fell into this trance-like meditation, little pulled them out. It was part of their nature, to spur them to survive. She was in control of her actions, but a slave to her baser urges. Sliding the leather through the loops, he removed his belt and flung it aside. Her focus remained trained on him, so he teased down the zipper of his jeans, then his fingers crept upward and popped the buttons loose from his dress shirt.

  She shifted forward, leaning in on her knees. Another thing about fox spirits? Highly curious. For as long as he kept her interest, she was his to tantalize.

  From tonight alone, he’d deduced two secrets about Daji. While she’d been with a man, at least once, she was not experienced.

  Her innocence stirred a longing in him—to be the man to show her whatever she believed was true, wasn’t.

  He undid the last button and shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her sharp scrutiny snapped to the front of his jeans. Both eager and hesitant. He tapped his fingers on the top button, a knock at the door rapping to the same beat.

  “My Queen?”

  Fuck it all. Daji blinked right out of their intimate moment, freezing at the call of her name.

  “My lady? Are you well?” the matronly voice insisted again.

  Daji whipped her head toward the door. “Yes, I was sleeping.” Her voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “I am well.”

  The knob jiggled. Price had been in this situation more than once, and by the time Daji whispered, “Leave,” he�
��d already gathered his clothes and was halfway out the door.

  He inched the door closed behind him as voices chimed in Daji’s chamber. Sinking onto the edge of the bed in his chamber, he dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed at his scalp.

  Seducing the Queen wasn’t what he’d come here for. While he enjoyed the distraction of a female’s company, Daji was more engrossing than a quick romp in the hay. He’d lost sight of his goals, and had somehow gotten tangled in her messes.

  This wasn’t what he wanted. Not what Horse wanted.

  From now on, with Daji, he was going to be hands—and hooves—off.

  ***

  Daji grumbled and hauled the covers around her shoulders. She did not wish to awaken. Not this morning. Not after last night.

  Of all the foolish actions she might have engaged in, watching Price strip for her topped the list. Now, not only did she rely on him for keeping her secrets locked tight, she’d succumbed to a curious desire. One refusing to be squelched. If she’d never mused about bedding him, she wouldn’t be subject to this weakness.

  Damn him. This was not the time to be contemplating bedmates. She was a Queen, with far greater concerns than pursuing a handsome male possessing the uncontained libido of a newly matured fox spirit. She snorted. The opportunity for such frivolities had long passed for her. Time was slipping through her fingers. She had weeks, perhaps months, remaining to secure her race’s future.

  Where was Naya? The fox spirits were nothing without a Queen and Daji had hand-picked the maiden from birth, raising her to one day replace her on the throne. Since Daji had never met the Queen who’d come before her, and had stumbled through her first years of reign, she’d insisted on guiding her own successor. After the girl had reached maturity and ventured into the earthly realm for her first feeding, she hadn’t returned. Two months had passed. Daji had been tracking her movements, so she was assured the girl was alive, but she hadn’t yet discovered her current whereabouts. While fox spirits were given the freedom of coming and going as they pleased, it made no sense for Naya to remain away for so long without informing Daji. The girl was responsible.

  Even worse, if Daji hadn’t been tracking her in the Kun Peng’s lair, she never would have encountered Price.