Purify: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance: Blood Persuasion Book 2 Read online

  “Are you sure?” Wyatt asked, meeting my eye in the rear-view mirror.

  “Yes,” I said. Then, looking at Beckett’s worried expression over the back of his seat, I repeated, “Yes.” I leaned back with a sigh but didn’t release Jett’s hand. “He just took blood and reminded me to come over on Saturday, just like always.”

  “Did you ask him about all the people there?” Jett asked, his thumb stroking my knuckles in a soothing manner.

  “He brushed it off, saying his receptionist overbooked him. He also said they were all staring at me because I’m beautiful. That’s a crock and he’s hiding something. I know it.”

  “You are beautiful,” Beckett said.

  “Thanks, Beck, but you know what I mean. No way was that the reason eight people, men and women, were staring at me like they were in a trance or something.”

  “It could be,” Wyatt added. I could hear the grin in his voice. “You put me in a trance pretty much every time I lay eyes on you.” He stopped at a red light and turned around, waggling his eyebrows at me.

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “Watch the road, you.”

  He turned back around just as the light turned green and hit the gas, turning on the highway that would take us back toward our hometown. Jett pulled his flask from his coat pocket and passed it to me. I unscrewed the lid and took a long pull from it, letting the coppery liquid fill my mouth before tipping the flask away and swallowing. As soon as the blood hit my stomach, I started to feel better. Revitalized.

  I’d discovered after my first visit to Dr. Patton’s lab that when he took my blood, it drained me of energy. Three vials weren’t enough to affect a normal person, but for some reason, it felt like I donated a pint and needed the cookies and juice they always offered at the bloodmobile. I tried eating something after that first visit, but it didn’t help. Drinking blood was the only thing that made me feel better. I asked the doctor and he spouted off something about Alts being anemic and needing blood. It didn’t make sense to me, but I let it drop. I tried to keep my conversations with him to a minimum. Less chance of me flying off the handle that way.

  When we got back to town, Wyatt pulled into the parking lot of Lucille’s, our favorite diner. As we ate, we talked about anything and everything, as long as it had nothing to do with their uncle and his tests. Wyatt told funny stories that had me in stitches, Beckett talked about a couple of new movies he wanted us to go see, and Jett sat by my side, making snide comments to his brothers with his hand on my thigh.

  They each had their own unique way of making me feel good about myself, my circumstances, and our relationship. It wasn’t traditional, but it was ours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I just wished everything else in my life was that perfect.

  Chapter Three

  “Again.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes and just barely succeeded. Every Saturday, it was the same thing. Persuasion with eye contact. Persuasion with no eye contact. Persuasion vocally. Then mentally. One at a time. Two at a time. All three at once. Frustration flowed through me like a raging river, but I tamped it down. I had to.

  I’d mastered most of Dr. Patton’s commands by the end of the first session. It took me another couple before I could manage to persuade them individually while we were all together. My commands tended to have a blanket effect. If I said, “sit down,” all three would sit. By the third session, I could say “sit down,” focusing on one of the boys and the other two wouldn’t be affected. Dr. Patton called it targeted persuasion.

  That day, we were on the back lawn and Dr. Patton had me run through basic commands. Sit, stand, walk over here, turn in a circle. It was like the boys were dancing monkeys and I know they hated it even more than I did. I could see the fight in their eyes, the desire to rip into their uncle and leave this place. But that would mean being torn away from me, so they stayed and danced like good little pets. It was degrading and disgusting.

  “Okay, good,” Dr. Patton said, folding his hands behind his back. “Now, I’d like to try something new.”

  I perked up and could see that the boys were intrigued as well. I was filled with equal parts excitement and dread, wondering what he’d have me do next. Anything had to be better than the monotonous drills we’d been repeating for two months.

  “Persuade Jett to cry.”

  I was wrong. That was not better. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” he said. “Make Jett cry.”

  “I don’t want to do that,” I said, appalled. Nothing would humiliate Jett more.

  “Need I remind you, that-”

  “Just do it,” Jett said, cutting his uncle off before he could voice his usual threats.

  “Jett, no. It’s not right.”

  He pressed his palm to my cheek and I leaned into it. “It’ll be okay. Just do what he wants.”

  I knew it went against Jett’s natural instinct to be so submissive. He was doing it for me. Fresh hatred welled up inside me for Dr. Patton. Revenge fantasies whirled through my head until he cleared his throat and motioned for me to get started. I growled under my breath, knowing only the boys would hear it.

  Jett, you’re sad. So sad, you can’t stop yourself from crying. Just let it out, Jett. Cry.

  I only thought the command, knowing I would probably choke on the words if I tried to say them out loud. I almost choked anyway when fat tears started rolling down Jett’s cheeks. I looked away, unable to bear the sadness in his eyes. Sadness I intentionally put there.

  I glanced at Dr. Patton, catching the smirk of satisfaction on his face before he cleared his throat and his expression. Anger boiled inside me, heating me to point where I could no longer tamp it down. I was done.

  “Stop crying!” I yelled. “You’re not sad.” As Jett’s expression tightened from sorrow into irritation, I whirled to face the good doctor. “Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

  “Savanna-”

  “No,” I interrupted, my voice harsh with emotion. “I agreed to be your guinea pig. I agreed to the blood tests and the persuasion practice and I’ll do anything else. But I will not use my ability to hurt these boys.” I enunciated the last three words clearly and slowly.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” he said, turning and heading for the back entrance into the house.

  As soon as he disappeared through the door, I turned back to the boys. “Jett, I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Wyatt said.

  “We don’t blame you for any of this,” Beckett added.

  “Jett?” I said when he said nothing.

  “He’s an ass,” Jett hissed, his anger evident. Then his face smoothed out as he looked at me. “Of course, I don’t blame you, Savanna.”

  He strode forward and wrapped me in his arms, squeezing the breath out of me. Leaning back so he could look me in the eye, he smiled and kissed me on the forehead before releasing me. I knew his actions were intended to make me feel better, and it helped a little but guilt still wracked my body. As Jett stepped away, Beckett moved behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me against him, so my back was flush against his hard chest.

  Jett took my hand and squeezed it, one last reassurance that he wasn’t angry with me. Wyatt approached and brushed his lips against my cheek, saying goodbye before turning and walking with Jett toward the house. Beckett rested his chin on my shoulder as his arms tightened.

  “Do you want to postpone our date?” he asked, his voice low and velvety.

  I turned in his arms and threaded my fingers up through his hair. “No,” I said, watching him search my eyes for the truth. “I don’t want to postpone. You always know how to cheer me up.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up as his head dipped toward me. He kissed the tip of my nose, then my chin, before brushing his lips against mine. His kisses always started out that way, sweet and playful, before morphing into searing, toe-curling onslaughts that brought me to my knees. Knowing there w
ere cameras out there somewhere, I pulled back before things got serious.

  “You ready?” Beckett asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  “That was awesome!”

  Beckett’s exuberance made me laugh. I had to admit, the action packed superhero movie we’d just watched was really good. More importantly, it provided an escape, a couple of guilt free hours with no self-recrimination and no thoughts of Dr. Patton and his tests. Cozied up with no space between us, Beckett’s arm around my shoulder and my head on his chest, I’d forgotten all the drama from earlier and I was determined not to let it creep back in and ruin our day.

  I checked my phone for the time. It was early afternoon and we hadn’t had lunch, but I wasn’t hungry.

  “Are you hungry?” Beckett asked.

  “Were you reading my mind?” I asked with a laugh. “I was just thinking about how un-hungry I am. I think I ate too much popcorn.”

  “Me, too,” he said, distending his belly and rubbing it. He chuckled and took my hand in his. “Okay, it’s your turn to choose. What do you want to do next?”

  As nice as the movie was, I didn’t really feel like going out anywhere else. Being around people, most of whom displayed fear or disgust once they realized I was with an Alt, just didn’t appeal to me. But I also didn’t want to end our date early.

  “We can go hang out at my house,” I suggested.

  I gnawed on my lower lip, waiting for him to answer. My parents were both at work until late, so if he agreed, it would just be the two of us. Alone. With no threat of video surveillance.

  The brothers had only been to my house as a group and only when my parents were home. I’d never had the nerve to invite one of them over when Mom and Dad were at work. And we never hung out at their house because it was filled with bad juju from their uncle. And security cameras.

  “Are your parents at home?” Beckett asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “No,” I sighed.

  Beckett was the one brother who would reject the idea of hanging at my house with no supervision. He was always concerned with making sure he showed my parents the proper respect and didn’t disappoint them. A little too concerned, if you asked me. I knew he’d say no.

  “Okay,” he said.

  My head snapped up, my eyes wide. “Really?”

  He nodded once, not speaking as he led me the rest of the way to the truck. Helping me climb in, he closed the door and jogged around the front end to the driver’s side. He hopped in and, slamming the door behind him, started the engine.

  When he didn’t shift the truck into gear and just sat staring out the windshield, I asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it.

  He shifted the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb. He seemed quiet. Too quiet, even for Beckett. I really wanted him to come over to my house, but I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So I offered him an out.

  “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can do something else.”

  “No, I want to,” he said. “Probably too much,” he added, mumbling under his breath.

  “What was that?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “Nothing,” he said, looking over at me with a smile. “I don’t care where we hang out, as long as we do hang out.”

  I grinned at him, happy with his answer. I had a feeling he was reluctant to spend time alone with me because he didn’t fully trust himself to behave. For the last couple of months, all of our dates had been in public places. We hadn’t been truly alone since that day in his room, when he played the song he wrote for me. I’d pretty much attacked him and things got really hot and heavy before Wyatt had knocked on the door to tell us their uncle had returned home.

  An argument broke out between the three of them when Jett and Wyatt realized what we’d been doing…an argument I’d ended in a fit of anger by persuading them all to stop. It was that, and my subsequent release of them that prodded Dr. Patton to make his move and coerce me into being his guinea pig.

  Not only could I persuade Alts, but I could persuade and release multiple people at once. That was something no one had ever been able to do. I was an anomaly.

  The truck stopped, pulling me from my thoughts. I looked over at Beckett, who had his eyes squeezed shut. Before I could comment or offer him another out, he swung open his door and hopped down, slamming it shut before jogging around the hood to my side. He opened the door and held out a hand.

  I smiled in thanks and took his hand. After jumping down, I barely gave him time to close my door before pulling him toward the house. I needed to show him that I trusted him and that he could trust himself before he decided not to risk it and went home. Pulling my key from my purse, I unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “Come on in,” I said, attempting to keep my voice as neutral as possible.

  Beckett followed me inside and closed the door behind us. I led the way to the family room and motioned for him to sit on the couch. Grabbing the remote, I clicked on the television before handing it to him.

  “You pick,” I said. “I’m gonna go grab a soda. You want one?”

  “Sure,” he said, nodding.

  I headed for the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths once I was out of earshot. At least, I hoped I was. I wasn’t really sure how far the Alts’ hearing extended. That was one ability I didn’t share with them. I grabbed a couple of cans from the fridge and a bag of chips from the cupboard before heading back to the living room.

  I threw the chips on the coffee table and handed a soda to Beckett before popping mine open. I took a long swig and set it down, making sure it landed on a coaster. Beckett followed suit, then leaned back against the couch. I kicked my tennis shoes off and curled up next to him.

  “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “It’s perfect,” I purred, cuddling against his hard chest.

  I knew he was asking about the show he picked, but I couldn’t resist teasing him a little. I could feel his heart beating beneath my ear, a quick thump-thump, thump-thump that was speeding up by the second. He was nervous or excited. Or a combination of both.

  Feeling mischievous, I draped my arm over his stomach. His abdominal muscles tensed before smoothing back out. Ever so slowly, I moved my hand from his waist to his abdomen. I pretended to be fully absorbed in the T.V. show, like my hand’s exploration was a completely subconscious movement.

  Beckett sucked in a breath and held it, making my own heart hammer a little harder. What started as a fun game was turning serious, fast. His body was so warm and hard, so perfect in its sculpted beauty, I was getting caught in my own trap. I wanted more.

  As if I’d said it out loud, Beckett spurred into motion. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me onto him. My knees settled on either side of his hips as his lips captured mine. A palm at the small of my back pressed me against him while his other hand tangled in my hair. It was exactly what I wanted. What I needed.

  Oh, God.

  I pulled back, placing both hands on his chest to maintain distance between us. “Stop,” I said.

  The look on Beckett’s face was like an arrow to the heart. Equal parts shame and disappointment, I could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. He thought he’d pushed me too far.

  “Savanna,” he breathed, “I’m sorry. I don’t know…”

  His words trailed off and I cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look into my eyes. “Stop it,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “But—”

  “No,” I cut him off. “I stopped you because I was afraid that I’d accidentally persuaded you into it.”

  “What?” he asked, the look on his face incredulous.

  I broke eye contact, feeling my face heating up. “I was thinking about how amazing you feel and how I wanted to feel more, then…well, you grabbed me, giving me exactly what I wanted.”

  “Savanna, look at me,” he said, curling a finger under my chin a
nd lifting my face. Once I made eye contact, he continued, “I wasn’t being persuaded.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  I laid my cheek against his shoulder, slumping my body against his. His hands skimmed across my back, simultaneously soothing and exciting me. I pressed my mouth against his neck, running my tongue over his skin before gently sucking it into my mouth.

  His groan vibrated through me, driving me to new heights as heat circulated through me and pooled in my lower abdomen. I lost my mind as my body took over, grinding against him as I sucked harder at his neck. His hands found my butt and squeezed, pushing me over the edge.

  A sharp, metallic tang hit my tongue, bringing me back to my senses. I jumped form Beckett’s lap and slapped a hand across my mouth. He shot up from the couch, holding his hands out in front of him in a placating manner.

  “Savanna, it’s okay,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

  “I think you should go,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes.

  Instead, I stared at the red half-circles on his neck. The spot where my teeth had pierced the skin, spilling his blood into my mouth. Blood that tasted better than anything I’d ever had. Ever.

  Even through my self-recriminations, it called to me, begging me to sample it again. Beckett needed to leave before I lost control again. Before he realized that which I was finally starting to understand about myself.

  I am a monster.

  Chapter Four

  “Savanna, come on. Open up.”

  The wood of my front door was hard and cool against my back. I’d slumped to the floor after shoving Beckett through and slamming it behind him. He begged me to let him back in, to talk it out, but I refused. I screamed at him to go away, to leave me alone in my misery, but he didn’t budge.

  Instead, he called for reinforcements.

  Wyatt and Jett showed up shortly after, and some delirious side of me wondered how they got to my house because Beckett had the truck. Like transportation choices were even remotely important after what I’d done.