Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

by Nashoda Rose

  He shut my door, ran around to the other side of the car, and leapt in. Then he drove like a maniac, and car horns blared as he weaved in and out, ignoring red lights and stop signs. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

  God, why did I feel so cold and tired.

  “Damn it.” Kilter’s hand came down hard on my shoulder and he shook me, causing the car to swerve. “Rayne!”

  I tried to focus on him, but my vision blurred. “Kilter?” He looked worried. Why was he worried? Was I going to die? I didn’t want to die. Not now.

  Not after fighting so hard to live.

  And not before I saw Kilter’s eyes look at me again like I was his savior. Like I mattered.

  “Rayne, open your eyes.”

  I slipped into a black void of darkness.

  “Rayne, open your eyes.” Fuck. I swerved into the curb, taking a corner too fast, and clipped another car that honked and pulled over. I didn’t.

  “Anstice, incoming. Rayne’s been shot in the upper right thigh. She’s unconscious.”

  “TOA?” Anstice replied.

  “One minute.”

  When I arrived, the gate was already open and I sped up the driveway. I jumped out of the car without shutting off the engine, ran around the other side, and threw open the door as Keir ran up.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  I undid her seatbelt then and scooped Rayne into my arms. “Vampire.” Her head flopped back onto my shoulder, her limbs hung limp, and the lower half of her dress was stained with blood. Fuck, she didn’t look good. No. Fuck, no. This was not happening.

  “A vampire shot her? Since when do they carry guns?”

  Yeah, exactly what I was thinking. “Where’s Anstice?”

  “Guestroom,” Keir said as he ran ahead. “Timeline?”

  “Ten minutes, maybe. She passed out in the car.” I glanced down at her as we ran inside. Jesus, she was pale.

  I followed Keir into the basement and Anstice was in the room, the covers pulled back on the bed and the incense of sandalwood burning. I lowered Rayne onto the bed, knelt beside it, and leaned over, caressing her cheek with the back of my hand. I jerked back when I noticed my hand tremble. What the hell? I was steady as a rock. I didn’t fuckin’ tremble.

  Anstice fired questions at me while she cut Rayne’s blood-soaked emerald gown from the hem to her thighs and peeled the material back. She released my belt and then we shifted Rayne to lie on her side, so she could see the bullet wound. I kept my hand in Rayne’s, not liking that it didn’t curl around mine.

  Anstice nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “You have to let her go before I heal her.”

  I glared.

  She glared back.

  Healers were powerful, and Anstice was one of the best, but still my head was fucked up and logic had been lost the second I drove into the alley and saw Rayne running and a vampire after her. My heart stopped when I heard the fuckin’ thing go off, and my eyes went from the vampire I was going to tear apart to Rayne who fell to the pavement.

  “Not letting her go.”

  “Kilter,” she warned. I didn’t need a warning. I knew the deal. I’d feel the pain of the gunshot when she healed her if I held Rayne’s hand.

  Keir stepped forward. “Better if you wait outside.”

  My hands curled into fists. “I’m not fuckin’ leaving.”

  Anstice shook her head at Keir who stayed next to me, but didn’t attempt to make me leave, which would’ve probably been stupid considering I wasn’t leaving until I knew she was going to be okay.

  Anstice was the only Healer in Canada and one of a handful scattered across the world. Not only did a Scar have to be born with the ability, they also had to be female. The ancient Scar Zurina was also a Healer; however, Anstice’s bloodlines were stronger as her mother, Lillian, had been the most powerful Healer known to the Scars. Unlike Zurina, who could only heal Scars and witches, as they were descendants of one another, Anstice could heal any living being.

  Anstice put her hand on top of mine that was in Rayne’s. My eyes shot to her. “Please. You won’t do Rayne any good if you’re weak from feeling the healing.”

  I pursed my lips together then conceded and stood, stepping back from the bed.

  Anstice laid her hands over the wound and closed her eyes. A soft glow emanated from the tips of her fingers then spread to her hands, giving the surface of her skin a translucent pink-orange hue.

  Anstice’s body tensed and she sucked in air.

  The scent of sandalwood grew stronger as Anstice’s heat built to a fierce, red glow. She closed her eyes, expression tight, and I knew she felt and saw everything Rayne had when she was shot.

  After ten minutes, Anstice slowly drew back and opened her eyes. Keir moved in to her, looped his arm around her waist, and brought her in to his side.

  “She’s in shock and will sleep for a while, but she’ll be fine.” Anstice’s voice quivered and Keir scowled.

  I nodded and opened my mouth to say thanks, but the words were locked behind a century-old wall I’d built around myself.

  Anstice half-smiled at me. “I felt it, you know.” She glanced up at Keir then back to me. “She cares for you, Kilter.”

  They quietly left the room.

  I OPENED MY EYES and jolted upright. Oh God, the vampire.

  “About time you woke up.”

  Kilter?

  He was here. He found me. The vampire shot me in the leg and Kilter came for me.

  He stood in the far right corner of the room, leaning against the wall, ankles and arms crossed, appearing casual and unconcerned. But his unkempt hair said otherwise, as if he’d run his hands through it repetitively. And so did his eyes as they drilled into me, intense and piercing.

  “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Three hours,” he replied. He uncrossed his limbs, pushed away from the wall, and stalked toward the bed. “Your leg is healed. Anstice said you’ll be fine.”

  My eyes widened as I realized there was no pain in my thigh. I moved my right leg beneath the sheets—nothing. I threw the sheet aside, forgetting about the possibility of being nude, and shifted up on my left hip to look. I ran my hands over where the wound would’ve been. Nothing. Not even a mark.

  “Oh, my God.” Holy shit. A healer could do that? Heal someone from a bullet wound?

  Kilter stopped at the foot of the bed.

  I looked up at him, but his eyes were on my legs. My very naked legs. I quickly yanked the sheet back up. “She healed me? From a bullet wound?” Bruises were one thing, but this was incredible. No pain. Bruising. Stiffness. It was as if I’d never been shot.

  “Yeah.” His voice was abrupt and there was tension in his stance as he looked at me. He curled and uncurled his hands and his scowl was fierce, yet there was something else there I didn’t recognize.

  “Kilter?” What wasn’t he telling me?

  His brows drew low over his eyes. Eyes that were no longer looking at me, but at the bed near my feet. What was wrong? Kilter was straightforward and honest. Direct as a missile. It was one of the reasons I’d been drawn to him. My entire life had been about deception and deceit. The lies from Anton to get me to conform and the lies I told myself.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and shifted his body weight. “I should’ve been there. Six months ago, I should’ve been there for you and I wasn’t.” I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say to that. He half-grunted before tilting his head up and locking eyes on me. “I care about you and if anything happens to you…you mean something to me, babe.”

  I did? And God, I liked that.

  “Thank you for saving my life.” I paused then added. “Again.”

  He grunted then walked over to the small antique chair near the door, grabbed the back of it, and dragged it over to the side of the bed and sat. “That vampire wouldn’t have killed you. You’d be dead right now if he did. He shot you, so you couldn’t run.”

  “He said
he was supposed to take me to someone.”

  He didn’t say anything, but from his strained expression, he didn’t like hearing that.

  He reached over to the nightstand and picked up a bowl with a spoon resting in it. Then he took a spoonful, and with his hand underneath it so none would drip on me, he brought it toward my mouth.

  I balked. “Umm, I’m capable of feeding myself, Kilter. Perfectly healed, remember.”

  “Open.”

  He had that stubborn, determined glint in his eyes, so arguing was a moot point. “What is it?”

  “Open.”

  Obstinate as usual. It was irritating, but kind of comforting because Kilter was here. With me. I opened my mouth and swallowed the lukewarm chicken broth he fed me. I hated chicken soup. Anton had the cooks make it all the time when I was sick, which was often because I’d been unhealthy, at first by choice until it warped into something more.

  “Kilter?”

  “Yeah, babe.” He scooped up more soup.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean, from the Rest thing and then the vampire. He could’ve killed you, Kilter.”

  “You worried about me?” The corners of his lip twitched upward and my heart rate increased. “And no, the vampire wouldn’t have killed me. He ran, remember. Open.” When I didn’t immediately, his brows lowered and his lips set in a thin line.

  I grudgingly took another mouthful and a drop of soup spilled over my lower lip. With the pad of his finger, he gently wiped it away. My eyes widened at the intimacy of the touch and my stomach flipped.

  I looked down and curled my fingers into the edge of the sheet held tight to my chest. His hand cupped my chin and he tilted my head up. Neither of us said anything, but in the depths of his dark eyes, a spark of desire flashed.

  Then it was gone and he released me.

  I grudgingly opened my mouth as he fed me another spoonful of soup. I swallowed, but when he held out another one, I pushed his hand away, spilling some of it onto the sheet. “No more. I hate chicken soup.”

  Kilter dropped the spoon in the bowl with a clank. “For fuck’s sake, why didn’t you say anything? Fuck, Rayne, I could have made you something else.”

  “You made it?”

  He stood, the muscles in his back tense. “You eat potato leek? Tomato? Mushroom? What?”

  I reached out, my hand settling on his wrist. “I’m good.” When he frowned, I added, “For now, but thank you for the soup. It was really thoughtful, and if I liked chicken soup, I’m sure it would be good.”

  He shrugged. “It’s chicken soup, no big deal, and I like to cook. You refused to wake up, so I had to do something.”

  I smiled. He obviously had trouble giving compliments and accepting them. “Kilter?” His eyes landed on me. “Just say thanks.”

  He didn’t. Instead, he set the bowl down on the nightstand, his eyes on me and they were smoldering. I wore nothing but panties and my bra underneath the sheet, but I felt hot. Really hot. His eyes on me like that caused a sweet ache between my legs, and I licked my lips because suddenly they were really dry and I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Kilter.”

  “Christ.” His knee landed on the mattress as he bent and grabbed me around the back of the neck and pulled me toward him. The sheet slipped from my grasp as his lips took mine.

  He groaned against my mouth, the vibration shooting sparks through every inch of my body. His tongue swept inside as he deepened the kiss, bringing me closer to him so my aching breasts pressed up against this chest.

  “Fuck, Rayne,” he murmured.

  I moaned, lifting my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him closer.

  He straddled me as he slowly lowered me back until my head rested on the pillow again. Then he trailed kisses over my chin to my ear and nibbled the lobe.

  The sheet pooled at my waist, leaving my abdomen and chest naked except for my black lace bra. I held my breath as his rough hand caressed over my ribs then up toward the underside of my breast where his thumb stoked back and forth.

  I arched. Wanting him to touch my breasts. God, I wanted his hands to touch me everywhere.

  I never knew it could be like this. I’d always hated anyone touching me, because I feared my ability, but mostly because any touching was for Anton’s experiments. But this…this was nothing like that.

  “Beautiful.” His voice was ragged and sexy as he whispered in my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin. “So, fuckin’ beautiful.” His hand slid back down my ribs to my abdomen and settled on my hip and squeezed. “Better. I like meat on you, babe. I like it a lot.” He lifted his head to look at me, eyes smoldering. “Something for me to grab.”

  My heart leapt. I liked that he liked me with weight on. “Yeah?” I said.

  He moved so his palms were flat on the bed on either side of me, and he held his weight above me.

  I reached up to cup his cheek. The scowl was gone and there was gentleness in his expression. It was breathtaking. God, he was breathtaking with that hint of a smile playing at his mouth and the lightness in him.

  “Going to kiss you again.”

  Oh. “Okay.”

  “Open your legs.”

  I hesitated and he shifted to the side, his hand reaching between us and moving my right leg over. Then he settled between my legs. He quirked a grin and his elbows bent and he lowered.

  His hard cock pressed into my thigh and I reached around him, palm on his back while my other slid down his bicep. “Kiss me, Kilter.”

  He groaned before his mouth slammed into mine. It was raw and fierce, as if he was afraid this was the last time. It was us discovering one another. It was us finding what we’d missed for months. And it was us becoming something together.

  I didn’t know what yet, and I could no longer think as our lips melded and heat burned. The strange sensations sifting through my body were uncontrollable and I couldn’t get enough of him.

  When he drew back to look at me, I was breathing harsh and my lips tingled from his bruising kiss. “I don’t know who you are right now.”

  “You do, baby. It’s just a different side,” he said. “An older one.”

  What did he mean by that? “I like you the other way, too, you know.”

  He chuckled and my heart leapt. Wow, I’d never heard him chuckle. It was deep and graveled, and there was a spark in his eyes as he did it. And I knew it was something precious and rare.

  He shifted to the side of me as his finger traced my swollen, red lips, his eyes following the feathered touch. Then he moved down over my chin, my neck, between my breasts to my belly button.

  I held my breath, closing my eyes. No man had ever touched me with such care. It had always been clinical. He slowly pushed the sheet out of the way and his fingers stopped at the edge of my panties.

  My eyes opened. “Kilter?” I wasn’t ready for this. I mean, my body certainly was, but emotionally I wasn’t. “I don’t think I’m ready to have sex.”

  His fingers stilled on the lace edge of my panties. “We aren’t going to.”

  “We aren’t?”

  “Babe, no. Fuck. I’m a bastard, but you were shot and I haven’t seen you in six months. So no, we’re not fucking.”

  “Oh, okay.” I bit my lip and smiled. “But the shot thing doesn’t really count because I’m healed.”

  “Mmm.” He traced the edge of my panties with the tip of his finger and I arched into the touch. Maybe I was ready. God, I liked him touching me. No, I loved his touch.

  “Don’t know where your head is at yet, Rayne. Hours ago, you were willing to walk away. You did walk away.” I opened my mouth to tell him I was wrong, but he gently squeezed my thigh. “Let me say this, babe.” He didn’t wait for my agreement as he continued. “I came back because I shouldn’t have driven off in the first place. I get that you’re scared. I was fuckin’ scared today too when I nearly lost you.” He was? It was hard to imagine Kilter scared of anything. “You need time to sort your shit out. I’m here until
you do.” His hand moved away from my panties to cup my chin. “But don’t think for a second this between us can end. Because it can’t.”

  Leaning in to me, he briefly kissed me before rolling from the bed and grabbing the soup bowl off the nightstand. “I’ll make you a sandwich. Chicken and tomato good?”

  I nodded, still a little shocked at what just happened.

  “Mayo and mustard?”

  I nodded again.

  “Okay.” Then he walked out.

  I flopped my arm over my eyes. “Holy shit.”

  “WITH TONIGHT’S INCIDENT, WE have to act now.” I stood in the foyer with Keir and Anstice. Keir contacted me as soon as Kilter showed up with Rayne. “We need to know why a vampire went after Rayne. She has to tell us everything that went down in that compound.”

  “Is she ready?” Anstice asked as she stroked the top of Finn’s massive black head. “She’s gone through a horrendous experience, and even though she’s gained weight and is stronger, we’re digging into her past.”

  Delara had said the same thing in the dressing room two days ago. Anstice was a Healer and compassion was her forte. Not mine. I did everything in my power to protect the Scars, and if it meant using someone, I’d do it.

  “She’ll tell us everything whether she’s ready or not.” My jaw clenched as I said the next words, “Call Delara in.”

  Keir nodded as he put his hand on his wife’s arm when she opened her mouth. No doubt to object. Anstice was an incredible Healer, but she was new to the Scars and still had to learn to never question me.

  I pushed away from the doorframe I leaned against and turned away from them. Reaching into my pocket, I took out my candy container, opened it, and spilled a tiny pill into my palm before tossing it in my mouth. Every time I popped a pill, it reminded me of Delara. She begged me to give them up. If I ever laughed, it would have been then, because if she knew anything about what I’d endured for over sixty years, she would know that giving up the pills was impossible.

  A hand touched my forearm and everything inside me reacted as I jerked away and spun so quickly, I knocked Anstice back a few steps.