On the Hunt

by Alexandra Ivy

  And they could damned well fall asleep whenever the desire struck them.

  Hell. Maybe he was just too excited to sleep. Just the idea of finally being able to hold Cat . . .

  Or maybe he was afraid to fall asleep. Afraid she might not be able to find him in that realm. Afraid of losing the hope Marcus had given him.

  He sighed.

  “Just suck it up and do it,” he grumbled.

  Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing, relaxed his body, and let sleep claim him.

  A crush of people surrounded Yuri, buffeting him alongside a crisp winter breeze. Noses and cheeks glowed red in the cold. Warm breath formed puffs of white fog in front of smiling faces. Excitement filled the air, as did sparkling lights, the noise of hundreds of thousands of voices all talking at once, and the scent of alcohol.

  Times Square on New Year’s Eve. What a thrilling place to be. Masses of individuals all eager to ring in the new year, emitting so much positive energy one could practically get high on it. If, that was, one didn’t have to weed out the vampires that slithered through the crowd, preying upon humans who remained trapped in place by the throng.

  Yuri eyed one such vampire who had buried his face in a human woman’s neck. Had he bitten her yet?

  Her head fell back, her eyes closing as her lips parted in apparent pleasure.

  Yeah, he had bitten her.

  When vampires and immortals transformed, glands formed above the retractable fangs they grew. Under the pressure of a bite, those glands released a chemical that behaved much like GHB, leaving the victim sluggish and willing to accede to anything the vampires wanted to do to them. Tomorrow morning, the woman would have no memory of this.

  Palming a dagger, Yuri shouldered his way through the throng, nodding and smiling at those he passed even as he dodged their big blue top hats. He glanced at the clock.

  Perfect timing. They were about to begin the ten-second countdown to eleven o’clock.

  Yuri bumped into the vampire.

  As expected, the vamp removed his fangs from the woman’s neck and spun around to snarl at Yuri.

  Yuri buried his blade in the vampire’s heart and twisted it to ensure the wound wouldn’t heal before the vamp bled out.

  Gripping Yuri’s shoulder to help him remain on his feet, the vampire gaped up at him.

  Yuri withdrew his dagger and drove it into the vampire’s abdominal aorta just as the countdown began.

  The vampire tried to draw a weapon.

  Yuri snatched it from his hand and pocketed it.

  The vampire staggered, then sagged against Yuri, any sound he made going unheard amidst the shouts of the revelers.

  The woman the vampire had bitten teetered a step or two to one side.

  “Dana?” the woman next to her shouted over the noise, frowning up at her and gripping her arm to steady her. She looked past Dana to Yuri and the vampire, whose face was pressed to Yuri’s chest.

  Yuri grinned and shook his head. “Too much to drink!” he shouted over the noise.

  She laughed. “This one, too, it looks like!”

  Rolling his eyes in feigned amusement, Yuri started to make his way through the crowd. Not an easy task in this crush of humanity, particularly while supporting the vampire’s weight until the virus that infected him went to work. It didn’t take long for the vampire to deteriorate completely and leave Yuri holding only a jumble of clothes.

  Fortunately, everyone in the crowd was so busy cheering and admiring the pyrotechnic display while they shouted into their phones, took selfies, and blew whatever the hell those annoying noisemakers were called, that they didn’t notice. The few who did notice Yuri just thought he was, at first, taking a drunk friend home and, moments later, carrying a spare coat.

  As Yuri neared the edge of the crowd, he felt a tug on his coat sleeve.

  Glancing back and down, he halted. Pleasure and surprise filled him. “Cat.” Wadding up the vampire’s coat, he tossed it at the nearest building so no one would trip on it, then turned to face her. “What are you doing in New York?”

  She smiled up at him. “You invited me.”

  He shook his head. “What—?”

  “This is a dream. You asked me to visit you in your dreams.”

  “Check it!” a guy beside Yuri yelled to his friend. “This chick is so wasted she thinks she’s dreaming!”

  Laughter erupted.

  Someone bumped Cat from behind.

  She stumbled into Yuri.

  Yuri grasped her arms to steady her . . . and stilled. “I can feel you,” he murmured.

  “What?” she called over the noise.

  “I can feel you!” he shouted, joy and amazement rising within him.

  Nodding, she grinned up at him. “Marcus was right!” Yuri drew her into a crushing embrace, hugging her as close as he could get her and resting his cheek on her hair.

  She didn’t wear a coat and felt small and delicate against his taller, broader form, her head only reaching his shoulder.

  Loosening his hold, he eased away just a bit.

  Tears glistened in her eyes when she tilted her head back to look up at him.

  Yuri cupped her face in his hands, smoothed his thumbs over her soft, soft skin. Lowering his head, he did what he’d fantasized about doing ever since he had first glimpsed her in David’s home. He brushed his lips against hers.

  Fire flashed through him at the contact. His heart began to pound in his chest.

  Cat surprised him yet again, sliding her arms around his waist and increasing the pressure.

  Yuri deepened the kiss, tasting those pink lips with his tongue before delving within. He tightened his arms around her, locking her against his hardening form. Damn, she felt good. And he had wanted this for so long.

  Somewhere a male laughed. “Dude! It’s not midnight yet!”

  “Yeah,” another male added with a laugh. “Save it for the new year!”

  Yuri broke the kiss and stared down at Cat. “I can’t wait that long!”

  Face flushed, she shook her head. “I can’t either!”

  Opening his coat, he looped an arm around her and tucked her up against his side. Curses and disgruntled shouts rose around them as he muscled his way through the crowd, but Yuri would let no one deter him from leaving.

  When they finally reached the edge of the massive horde, Yuri took Cat’s hand and began to jog past the men and women just arriving.

  Cat’s laughter reached his ears, lightening his spirit until a huge grin split his lips. He felt so happy. And young. And carefree.

  It seemed to take forever to reach a street with no pedestrians.

  Stopping, he released Cat’s hand, bent, and lifted her into his arms. “Hold on tight,” he told her.

  She smiled. “I will.”

  Cat’s breath caught as the tall buildings around them blurred and Yuri carried them through the streets of New York at preternatural speeds.

  She couldn’t believe she had done it. That she was here in his arms. That she could feel him against her. His shoulder beneath her cheek. His muscled chest against her breasts.

  She laughed again at the pure joy of it and heard a responding rumble in his chest.

  As the noise faded, she buried her face in his neck, drew in his scent, reveled in the feel of his warm skin.

  Yuri.

  Her Yuri.

  Yuri stopped in an alleyway, tall structures on either side of them. The building he turned her to face was old and worn and boasted a single, nondescript door that rested at the top of three steps.

  Yuri climbed the steps and, balancing her with one arm, dug some keys out of his pocket.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “My home. Sort of. The network owns this apartment building,” he told her as he unlocked the door and opened it. Stepping inside a stairwell, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

  He dropped the keys back in his pocket. “Humans live on the lower floors,” he murmured, reclaiming
his hold on her with both arms. “All of them are single, early-to-bed-early-to-rise professionals who are dead to the world during most of the nighttime hours. The top two floors have been soundproofed and provide apartments for Immortal Guardians. Stanislav, me, and six others. Our Seconds have adjacent apartments. This is our private entrance,” he said, nodding to the door through which they had just passed, “so none of the other residents in the building will see the damp patches on our clothes or blood smears on our skin and panic.”

  The stairwell blurred and cool wind whipped Cat’s hair as he raced up she-didn’t-know-how-many flights of stairs and stopped before another door. Opening it, he stepped into a hallway that reminded her a little of Sublevel 5 at network headquarters. Just beyond the door lay a desk, behind which half a dozen men sat. Instead of wearing black fatigues, however, they wore suits.

  All still bore automatic weapons, though.

  One of the men rose. “Evening, sir.”

  Yuri nodded at them and strode past.

  Cat felt the curious gazes cast her way. But none questioned him.

  Yuri jogged up another set of stairs and, at last, stopped before what she assumed was his apartment. Lowering her to her feet, he opened the unlocked door. Then he took her hand and led her inside.

  He flicked on a light.

  Cat got a quick impression of a large open space with modern furnishings before he closed the door and turned a lock on it.

  She stared up at him, pulse racing.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered. Drawing her into his arms, he hugged her close and buried his face in her hair. “I can’t believe you did it. That it worked.”

  Cat burrowed into him, so happy to finally feel his big, hard body against hers, to have his arms tighten around her instead of passing right through her.

  “I know I said the tingling your touch inspires is pleasant,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her ear, “but this is soooo much better.”

  Cat laughed, tears rising, and nodded against his chest.

  “Let me get this coat off.”

  Stepping back, she surreptitiously wiped her eyes while he shrugged off his coat, then tugged the sweater beneath it over his head, revealing a plain black T-shirt bereft of bloodstains.

  Once more, he cupped her face in his hands, smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks.

  Cat reached up and curled her fingers around his wrists, needing to touch him again. “I don’t know how much time we have,” she whispered. “If you should awaken for any reason . . .”

  A slow smile curled his lips. “I’m a sound sleeper. But just in case . . .”

  He lowered his head and claimed her lips in a long, slow kiss that made her pulse race. Sliding a muscled arm around her waist, he drew her up against him. Without the coat as a buffer, she could feel how hard he already was for her.

  Her heart began to pound with excitement . . . and with a hint of nerves.

  “What’s wrong?” Yuri murmured against her lips, resting his hands on her hips and slowly walking her backward, farther into the apartment.

  How had he known?

  “Is your heart pounding because you want me?” he asked, his glowing amber eyes peering into hers, “or because you’re nervous?”

  “Both?” she responded with some despair. She wanted to be bold and passionate like Sarah and Krysta and the other immortal women she’d accidentally caught making love with their husbands. But . . . “I’ve only ever been with Blaise,” she admitted.

  “Your husband?”

  “Yes. And it wasn’t . . . It didn’t . . .” make her throw back her head and moan in ecstasy.

  Yuri arched a brow. “It didn’t knock your socks off?”

  She laughed. “Yes. It wasn’t like what we heard in the romance audiobooks.” How those had made her flush!

  “Don’t worry,” he said and pressed a light kiss to her lips, “I won’t do anything you won’t like.” He kissed her again. “And will do many things you’ll like,” he purred.

  Cat’s nervousness dissipated as she smiled up at him.

  “That’s what I want to see,” he said. “Now put your arms around me.”

  When he leaned down, she slid her arms around his neck.

  He straightened, taking her with him and lifting her feet off the floor. Fisting his free hand in her long skirt, he drew it up to her knees. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  Cat did as bidden, heat climbing her cheeks.

  The glow in his eyes brightened as he released her skirts and slid a hand over her bottom.

  The heart of her rested against his erection, still separated by their clothing. His eyes never leaving hers, he strolled down a hallway and into a smaller, darker room illuminated only by the light that spilled into it from the living room. Every step created delicious friction. Sparks of what Cat came to understand was desire shot through her with every brush of him against her core.

  When he halted, she didn’t want the wonderful feeling to end and arched against him.

  He hissed in a breath. “You aren’t going to let me do this slowly, are you?”

  She rubbed against him again. “Not if everything you’re going to do will make me feel like this.”

  He shook his head and released his hold on her, moaning when she slid her legs down his body and leaned against him. “This is just the beginning.”

  Stepping back, he kicked off his big boots and tugged his shirt over his head.

  Cat visually devoured the muscles he exposed.

  A belt circled his hips, equipped with several sheaths that held blades of various sizes. He unbuckled the belt and set it on a dresser behind him. “In all of the times you came to my room,” he said, his hands going to the button on his pants, “did you ever peek at me while I was in the shower?”

  She shook her head, her gaze fastening on his hands.

  “Did you want to?”

  She nodded as he unbuttoned the button and drew down the zipper.

  “Shall I turn the lights on then, or leave it dark?”

  “Lights on,” was all she could squeeze out.

  Taking two steps backward, he reached over and flipped a switch.

  Light flooded the room.

  Then he tucked his thumbs in the waistband and drew his pants and boxers down.

  Cat’s heart began to thud even harder. She had never really seen a naked man before. Had only caught glimpses . . .

  He kicked the pants aside and let her have a nice long look.

  “You’re beautiful,” she murmured. All muscle and sinew and strength, his arousal jutting toward her.

  He approached her with panther-like grace. “Now it’s my turn.”

  His fingers went to the buttons that ran down the front of her blouse.

  “I wanted to dress like the women of this time,” she admitted as he eased the first button free and moved on to the next. Another mystery in this existence: All she had to do was imagine clothing and it would appear on her form. “A short skirt. A low-cut blouse.” Something that would set him aflame. “But it felt like I was wearing a costume.”

  He shook his head and moved on to the third and fourth buttons, his long fingers surprisingly deft. “I wasn’t born in this century, Cat. I was born long before you were, as you know. And this”—he gave the material a little tug—“is what I enjoy seeing you wear. I don’t need your breasts shoved up to your chin in one of those push-up bra things and spilling out of your blouse. I don’t need a skirt so short it leaves nothing—and I mean nothing—to the imagination when you sit down or bend over. I like using my imagination. I like getting just a hint of cleavage that makes me long to see what is hidden beneath all this material. I like guessing what your lovely curves look like unclothed.” He drew the end of her blouse up and out of her skirt. “I like knowing,” he continued as he reached the last button at her waist and parted the soft cloth, revealing the nearly transparent chemise beneath, “that I’m the only man who can see you like this. The on
ly man you’ll allow to see you like this.”

  She let him draw the shirt down her arms, heard it hit the floor with the faintest sound.

  He reached behind her, unfastened her skirt, and let it fall to the floor at her feet.

  Beneath she wore the bloomers that had been popular in her time, nearly transparent like the chemise.

  He rested his hands on her hips, tightening his hold as he examined her. The amber glow in his eyes intensified. “I love old-fashioned underwear,” he hissed.

  She bit her lip. “You don’t prefer the tiny panties and bras women today wear?”

  He shook his head. “If you knew how many times, as a boy, I tried to catch a glimpse of underwear like this beneath frothy skirts, you’d know that this is what turns me on.”

  She smiled, imagining it.

  Then he slid his hands up her sides and drew his thumbs over the hard peaks of her breasts.

  Cat sucked in a breath as sensation shot through her. Surprised, she looked up at him.

  A sensual smile curled his lips. “I told you you’d like it.”

  Cupping one breast in his palm, he leaned down and closed his lips over the other, his tongue rasping over the sensitive peak and dampening the thin material of her chemise.

  Cat moaned and buried her fingers in his hair. His soft, thick hair that she could touch at last. Every pull of his mouth, every flick of his tongue, made liquid heat pool low in her belly. Made her want to writhe against him. She gave his hair a little pull. “Take it off.”

  He raised his head. “What?”

  She reached for the hem of her chemise. “Take it off. Now that I can finally feel you, I don’t want anything between us.”

  He smiled, a low growl rumbling in his throat. Releasing her breast, he gripped the delicate material. One tug and it tore down the back. He dipped his long fingers in the front of her bloomers and tugged again. Wispy material floated down to the floor, leaving her bare to his gaze.

  “I love your strength,” she declared.

  Grinning, he picked her up and tossed her backward.

  Cat shrieked as she flew through the air, then landed on the soft cushion of an enormous bed she hadn’t even realized rested behind her.