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Julian’s mind spun as he stared at the ceiling and tried to sift through everything that had happened tonight. The killer was a vampire, but he knew there had only been two vampires in the bar the night of the fight. He also knew he wasn’t the vampire who had caused the events of last night to unfold and neither was Quinn.
The only problem was Quinn didn’t know both of those truths. He’d seen the look in her eyes last night, the uncertainty, and the doubt. She was looking at him with far more doubts about his innocence than he was at her.
He’d been a heartless, murdering bastard once. He’d told her as much; he couldn’t blame her for doubting him now.
So then why did it make him feel like a razor was repeatedly slicing at his deadened heart? He’d loved two women in his life. One had created a monster when she’d turned him, and the other had helped him to become a man again. And now there was Quinn, a woman who affected him in ways that neither Victoria, his creator, nor Cassie, his savior, ever had.
She frustrated him and made him feel protective but even more, he realized Chris and Melissa had been right. He’d always known Victoria had never truly cared for him, and that Cassie’s heart could never be his. When Quinn looked at him, she didn’t see him as a toy she could play with and turn into a monster like Victoria had. She didn’t look at him like a friend and battle partner like Cassie did.
No, when Quinn looked at him she simply saw a man. When she’d kissed him, she’d done so with enthusiasm and an openness he’d never experienced before, or at least she had before the events of tonight had placed misgivings into her head.
Unlike Victoria, she had a soul to care for him with. Unlike Cassie, she had a heart that didn’t already belong to someone else. This wasn’t love between them, but damn if she hadn’t wormed her way into his heart with her unshakeable pride and determination, yet there was a vulnerability within her that touched a piece of his soul. He would do anything he could to keep her safe.
Rolling off the couch, he climbed to his feet and stretched his cramped muscles. This couch was far more pleasant than the other one, but a bed would be better. Preferably, the one in the room next door, but he had a saint’s chance in Hell of getting in there after last night.
Walking over to the blinds, he pulled them up and stepped away from the fading rays of the sun spilling inside. Slowly, as the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, he moved his body in front of the window.
It felt as if sand from the ocean stuck to his skin and rubbed over his flesh when the sunlight spilled over his bare chest. The sensation was like multiple needles firing into his skin, his flesh prickled, but he could tolerate it. Warmth slid over his skin, his head tipped back as he savored in the heat encompassing his body.
He became so lost to the sensation, he didn’t realize Quinn had emerged from her room until he heard her startled gasp. He lowered his head and turned it toward her. Her hand covered her mouth; her golden eyes were wide as she stared at him.
He should probably move away from the window, but his gaze remained riveted upon her slender frame. The oversized t-shirt she wore hung down to her knees and slipped off of one of her creamy shoulders. Her chocolate hair fell around her face and shoulders in tumbled disarray.
She was striking without meaning to be, enticing without even trying. His hands fisted at his sides; he fought the urge to go to her. She distrusted him, he reminded himself, and maybe she had a reason to, but it still cut him.
“How?” she whispered.
He stepped away from the sun’s rays. His skin had turned redder but the burn would fade soon. “Lots of time spent gradually exposing myself to it.”
She approached him and stopped at the edge of the sun’s rays. The yearning on her face pulled at his heart. As she stretched her fingers into the rays, smoke began to curl from her reddened flesh. With a hiss, she jerked her hand back and twisted the blistered skin over before her. Her eyes were questioning when they came back to his.
“It’s taken me two years and I’m still not able to stand it for very long, or directly,” he explained.
She continued to stare at her red, swollen hand, but the blisters had already healed. “How did you know you could do this?”
Julian dropped the blind back into place. He walked away from the window and around the couch to grab a t-shirt from the bag on the floor. He pulled the shirt over his head and pushed the hair back from his face before turning to face her. “One of The Elders was able to do it, and Devon can also withstand it.”
“Devon is Cassie’s husband?”
“I guess you could call him that.”
“It doesn’t bother him that you’re in love with his wife?”
All of his amusement vanished as he turned to face her. A muscle in his cheek began to jump as his teeth clenched. “Cassie means a lot to me, she always will, but I’m not in love with her. Not anymore.”
“You’re not?”
He believed he detected a hint of hope in her voice but he couldn’t be sure if it was actually there or if he just really wanted it to be.
“No, I’m not.” Her eyes flickered, but her face remained impassive. “I always knew there was never going to be a chance for us, but the past is the past, if we become bogged down in the things we did or who we were, we’d never be able to move on and actually live again.”
“It sounds rather sad,” she murmured.
“I suppose you could look at it that way. If it wasn’t for her though, I wouldn’t be here, I would still be a vicious killer.” Her gaze flickered away at his words, her fingers played with the edges of her t-shirt. “You think I still might be.”
“I don’t know what to think.” Her eyes came back to his. He had to give her credit for not trying to deny it. “I don’t have your ability to see into people and know things. The killer is a vampire, yet we were the only vampires in Clint’s the night of the fight.”
“You have instincts Quinn, what are they telling you?”
“That I should run as far from you as possible.”
Her blunt answer caused his eyebrow to rise. “Why?”
“Deep down I don’t believe you’re a killer, anymore, but you were once and you scare the crap out me.”
“I’m not frightening.”
“You’re terrifying. The way you make me feel, the things I’ve told you. You barged into my life, you tore it apart, and I don’t know what to think or do anymore.”
He’d been steadily approaching her while she spoke. She went to step away from him, but he clasped hold of her wrist. “Do you really find me terrifying?” he inquired as he tugged her up against his chest.
Her eyes were the color of gold as she tilted her head back, her lips parted. His fingers entwined with hers; he pulled her arm gently up and behind her back. Excitement pulsed through his body; he took a step back, pressing her against the wall.
“Julian.” The husky whisper of the word only electrified his skin further.
He rested his hand beside her head and bent to look into her eyes. He could feel the pulse of her power, the flow of it reminded him of the waves washing in and out on the shoreline.
“Am I really that frightening, Quinn?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He smiled at her. “If it makes you feel any better, I find you more than a little scary too.” Her eyes searched his face, his hand tightened on the fingers he held behind her back. “I’m not a killer, not anymore. Not of innocents anyway. You have to believe me.”
Until he said the words, he hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed to hear her say she believed him, that she had faith in him. He needed it more than he’d ever needed anything before in his life.
Her eyes remained locked on his, the ebb and flow of her power notched up a level as she gave and took from him in equal measure. He could feel his own ability trying to break free, trying to search her mind in order to see what she felt for him, but he wouldn’t invade her in such a way.
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nbsp; “I believe you.” He continued to stare at her as he tried to process what she’d said. “I do.”
He wrapped his other arm around her waist and releasing the hand behind her back, he lifted her off the ground. A startled sound escaped her seconds before he claimed her mouth with his. Her lips parted to allow his tongue to sweep into her mouth, the minty taste of her toothpaste greeted him.
A growl escaped him, his hand slid over the delicate contour of her cheek before sliding through her thick, silken hair. He’d kissed more women than he could count over the years, but she was the first one who made him feel as if he were drowning in the waves of pleasure she aroused in him.
Turning her around, he took four steps before placing her down on the couch and following her onto it. Pushing her back onto the plump cushions, he leveled his body over top of hers. Her hands pushed the back of his shirt up, his skin bunched beneath the fingers skimming across his flesh. He couldn’t get enough of tasting her, as his hands slid up her silken thighs to the bottom of her baggy t-shirt.
The almost cinnamon scent of her blood was an alluring temptation that only excited him further. The silky feel of her creamy skin ensnared him; pushing her shirt further up, he flattened his hand against her stomach as he tried to steady himself. He’d never be satisfied until he possessed her in every way, but he wanted to savor her and take his time.
The prick of her fangs against his bottom lip rattled his resolve to go slow and nearly sent him over the edge. His hand slid further up to brush over her ribcage. She jerked beneath him; her hands dug into the flesh of his back as he ran his hands over her skin. Unable to control them, his own fangs lengthened in eager response.
He nipped at her bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth and lightly licking over the area he’d just offended. Drawing on his firm restraint, he fought against biting down on her full bottom lip and bringing forth the blood he so desperately craved.
The deep, probing thrusts of his tongue sweeping into her mouth caused her to tremble. A small moan escaped her; she arched up beneath him, her hips thrusting against his. Hunger for her body and her blood surged as insistently in him as lava from an erupting volcano.
He’d been walking a fine line with her, trying to keep his distance, his control. He felt that line fraying as the blood in her veins called to him. With a more forceful growl, he withdrew his hand from her shirt to clasp her face in between his palms.
“Julian!” His name was a pant that drove him further beyond the thin layer of control he was barely holding onto.
Her head fell back as his mouth slid away from hers. He kissed her cheek before taking her ear into his mouth and sucking on it tenderly. Her hands slid up his back, leaving a trail of fire over him.
The heat of her skin burned into his as he pressed his lips against her neck and the vein running just beneath the surface. His lips skimmed back, he raked his fangs over her tender flesh but didn’t pierce it. Her blood was there, begging to be tasted. All he had to do was bite down.
Her body stilled beneath his, her warm mouth turned into his neck, and her lips rested against him. The pull of her blood was so potent it caused saliva to rush into his mouth, but he remained still against her. This was different than any of the other times he’d exchanged blood with a vampire. He cared for her, but this line wasn’t one he was ready to cross. It would leave him vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been since he’d been imprisoned and tortured in that hellhole with Cassie.
Pulling his mouth away was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done, but he pressed a kiss against her skin and did so. His disappointment vanished as he dropped his hands down again to skim over her body. He wouldn’t taste her now, but he had his control back and he planned to take his time and enjoy her like he’d originally intended.
His palm flattened against her thigh as he pulled back to look into her smoky honey eyes. His finger traced over the scar on her chin, her penance, her punishment for a mistake she’d had no control over. He touched the scar running across her temple before bending to press a kiss to the one on her chin.
“Julian, no…”
“Shh,” he whispered as he kissed the one on her temple next. She remained rigid against him, unable to relax as he gently touched the heartrending reminders of her past. “You don’t deserve them.”
Bending his head to hers again, he was about to reclaim her mouth when a knock sounded on the door. A low grumble of displeasure rumbled through his chest. Judging by the scents in the air, Chris and Melissa stood on the other side of the door.
His upper lip skimmed back, the words, go away, lodged in his throat, but no matter how badly he wanted to continue this, there were more important things they had to deal with.
His fingers slid through her silken hair as he turned back to her. Her enticing lips were swollen from his kisses, but the smokiness had faded from her eyes. She’d briefly let her walls slip; he could see them going back up now.
“Don’t shut me out,” he told her as he ran his finger over her bottom lip.
“I’m not.”
He tilted his head to study her. “Dewdrop, I can almost see the fortress growing behind your eyes. Don’t shut me out.”
“You won’t let me.”
He laughed as he bent to press a kiss against her lips again. “No, I won’t.”
He kissed the tip of her nose before reluctantly pulling away from her and rising to his feet. Holding his hand out to her, he helped her to stand. She hastily fixed her t-shirt and pushed back her hair.
“I have to take a shower,” she mumbled.
The idea of her in the shower caused his blood to flash boil with lust. He briefly contemplated kicking Melissa and Chris out of here, but he didn’t think the action would be well received by anyone. Forcing himself to release her arm, he took a step away from her. She gave him one last look before hurrying away.
Keeping his face impassive, he walked to the door and pulled it open to let them in. “Everything ok?” Chris asked.
“Fine,” Julian assured him as he closed the door behind them.
“Took you a while to answer the door.”
“Some of us like to sleep.”
“Uh huh,” Chris said, his gaze went pointedly toward Quinn’s closed door.
Julian abruptly stepped in front of him to block his view of her door. Melissa smirked at him and plopped onto the couch. Chris whistled maddeningly as he walked over to join his friend.
“Cassie’s still itching to come down here,” Melissa said.
“I’ve talked to Devon, he knows to keep her away,” Julian replied.
Chris laughed. “Let’s see how good that works out for him.”
“I definitely don’t envy him.”
“So, any theories on how a vampire is the one committing these murders without any of us knowing a vampire was in our presence the night of the fight?” Melissa asked.
“Not one,” he admitted and dropped onto the couch beside Chris. “Maybe it’s some kind of cloaking ability we’ve never encountered before.”
“Fantastic,” Chris mumbled.
Julian agreed as he propped his feet on the milk crate and rubbed tiredly at the bridge of his nose. Whatever was going on, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.
Frost Burn (The Fire and Ice Series, Book 1) Page 27
