by Laura Kaye
She didn’t know what kind of bullshit he was trying to shove down her throat, but she wasn’t buying the whole vampire thing. As much as she hated to admit it, though, she didn’t have a logical explanation for anything that had happened last night.
It felt good to be upright, she realized, stretching her legs. The longer she stood, the steadier she became, and she needed to feel better. Fast.
Since he obviously wasn’t going to tell her the whole truth, he was going to tell her what he planned to do with her. She set her teeth and turned back around, ready to dig in and get some answers.
“I’m going to cut to the chase here. Answer me this: whether you’re a vampire or not, why did you bring me here?” She waved around the room. “You planning on finishing me off in private?” Her voice rose when he straightened in his seat, both eyebrows shooting up. “Am I right? Don’t play games.”
He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his expression turning severe as he met her stare dead-on. She sucked in a startled breath and took a step back from his abrupt mood change. His eyes glowed with what appeared to be fire swirling around his pupils. Okay, now that…that does not look human.
“I will never feed on you again, or hurt you, Wildflower.” His deep voice rolled into an accent she hadn’t noticed before, catching her off guard. She clutched her abdomen. What was it with him calling her Wildflower? She was not a delicate little flower to be plucked or rescued. But whatever. She had no intention of hanging around long enough to be offended by what he called her.
“I am…truly sorry about what happened at the hospital,” he added. “I was thrown into a situation that left me with no recourse but to take what I needed to survive and get out of there as quickly as possible. I do not kill humans for their sustenance.”
She needed to sit down.
This could not be happening.
Emily lowered herself back onto the thick seat and tucked her legs underneath her. The man before her may be a freak of nature, or some kind of alien, but she sensed he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt her again.
Her heart rate descended from the ceiling with the revelation that she wasn’t about to be the next face on a missing-person flyer. Except…who would post one? Or for that matter, who’d really miss her? She’d been lying when she’d said earlier that a lot of people would be worried about her if she didn’t come home. The truth was, the only people who would miss her would be her coworkers when she didn’t show up for work tomorrow night. God, wasn’t she pathetic? She mentally kicked herself out of her own pity party.
“Okay, well.” She nodded. “That’s good to hear. And since you said you didn’t bring me here to finish the job, I’d like to go home now.” She rose, but Kenric got to his feet at the same time and reached out, halting her progress.
“You can’t go yet.”
“Why not?” She jerked her arm away from his hold. “I’m feeling better. So I’m ready to leave.” Emily hit him with her best glare. “Or am I your prisoner?”
“You think you’re better, but you’re not. And no, you’re not my prisoner.” He headed over to the phone sitting on the nightstand. Kenric picked up the receiver but looked back over his shoulder before dialing. “I need to get you something to eat first.”
Emily moved around to the back of the chair and observed him at the phone. If she could get a few minutes alone, maybe she could call someone for a ride. Except she didn’t know where she was.
“That isn’t necessary.” She dug her nails into the padding of the chair’s back. “Really, it’s not.”
He put a hand up, silencing her protest. “Michael, I need a breakfast tray prepared for our guest.” He hesitated a moment, listening. “Just prepare a sample of several different items. I’m sure she’ll find something that pleases her. I’ll be down to pick it up. No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll pick it up. Inform Guerin I’ll be down momentarily.”
What is he thinking? I don’t care how sexy he is or what crazy things his hint of a British accent makes me want to do to him. I’m so not staying around here waiting for breakfast. Her gaze stroked Kenric’s profile, her mind straying to places and parts she shouldn’t be traveling. You should be more worried about how you’re getting your ass out of here, Emily Ross, rather than how firm those big biceps would feel under your hand. And how soft his hair looks, and what those dark waves would feel like when you run your fingers through them. The man just bit you, and good Lord, he told you he drank your blood! He’s insane! You’re not that easy or foolish, girl.
“I can’t let you leave without protein for strength and something in your system to at least bring your blood sugar back up. Besides, there’s more I need to talk to you about.” He moved toward his dresser. “Would you like to take a shower?”
The oh-so-handsome and thoughtful lunatic pulled out a pair of his sweats and a T-shirt from the drawer and handed them to her. She took them automatically, but her clothes were staying on.
“Like I said, I’m really not planning on staying here that long,” she said, looking down at the offering.
“Take a shower. It’ll make you feel better.”
The pleading sound of his voice pulled her gaze back to his. It sounded as if he genuinely cared. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard a man sound as if he cared about what happened to her, or how she felt.
“By the time you’re finished,” he continued, “breakfast will be here.”
She considered her options, looked at the bathroom door, then back to Kenric.
“Don’t worry. I won’t bother you. You have my word. You can lock the bathroom door.” He moved closer, his bright blue eyes a striking contrast under the dense layer of raven eyelashes. “No one will hurt you here.”
He sounded so believable and sincere. And a shower did sound heavenly. On that thought, she moved with hesitant feet toward the bathroom. In the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder at the handsome, crazy man/vampire/whatever. He held his jaw tense, his body taut, but he didn’t make a move. She closed the door and dropped her forehead against it with a sigh. She believed him. Down deep, at the level where a woman responded to a man. But inside her head, where the mental scars from too many bad relationships had left deep grooves, she wasn’t so trusting.
Emily turned the lock. Click.
…
Laughter rolled out from behind the swinging door to the kitchen. There was no mistaking the baritone voice resonating from the other room. Guerin, his second-in-command.
Whatever had him so cranked up, more than likely, was at Michael’s expense. Guerin lived to give him a hard time. Michael could hold his own, though, and when necessary, he, too, could give as good as he got. Kenric highly suspected Michael enjoyed the bantering even more than Guerin.
Their laughter came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into the kitchen.
“Hey, man! Glad to see you’re no worse for wear.” Guerin sat his mug down and left his seat at the island, greeting him with a slap on the back.
Kenric murmured his thanks before heading over to the kitchen table and grabbing the seat at its head. Guerin joined him, sitting in the chair to his right.
“You are no worse for wear, right?”
Kenric saw Guerin’s eyebrows draw down in concern as he eyed the thick, jagged scar on the side of his neck.
“Yeah, man. No worse for wear,” Kenric answered with a dismissive wave of his hand, never meeting Guerin’s eyes. “I’m healing fine.” He palmed the still-sensitive raised flesh. Mentally…that was yet to be decided. He’d know more about how he was doing once he got past the situation he’d left showering in his bathroom, and the mess he’d left behind at Memorial. This type of screw-up wasn’t like him. Bringing a female into his quarters, even with the best of intentions, wasn’t like him. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction. And Emily Ross was most certainly a distraction. Kenric inhaled a deep breath and tried to pick up the thread of the current conversation. Work—that’s exactly what he n
eeded.
Heavy boots sounded in the hallway, moving in a steady procession toward the kitchen. Arran and Markus entered seconds later, one behind the other.
The temperature in the room took a nosedive at their entrance.
They crossed the expanse of the kitchen in full patrol gear, daggers strapped on their legs.
Markus was the last one to sit at the table. As always, his long, straight black hair was bound at his neck by a leather strap. Kenric shook his head. The vampire always kept everything perfectly in its place, including his hair and his well-groomed goatee.
Neither of the two spoke as they took their seats for the evening’s briefing before patrol. Nothing unusual. Social graces didn’t sit at the top of their list of priorities.
An unspoken understanding existed among the group. Both possessed an aura that screamed: keep your distance. They seemed to prefer it that way. Regardless, when it came to trusting someone to watch your back, they didn’t come any more loyal than Arran and Markus. That’s why they were Enclave.
“If you two run into trouble and need any backup, Logan will be covering operations tonight along with Elle,” Kenric said.
Arran and Markus lifted their chins in an affirmative reply. Arran’s eyes never left his cup while he poured a dose of dark, French-roasted brew. Straight up, no cream or sugar. He two-fisted his cup, drinking with his eyes closed. His blond hair hung loose at his shoulders, shadowing his face. Arran had been the last to join his Enclave, but with a blade, the vampire could already hold his own against any of his other warriors. In fact, he was probably the best.
“Are you going to fill us in on what the hell happened last night?” Guerin stared at him, then swung his gaze wide to include the other warriors at the table.
“That’s why I’m here,” Kenric said, but instead of heading straight into the immediate, uncomfortable details involving the female upstairs, he turned his attention to another important matter. “How much longer until the breakfast tray is ready, Michael?”
“Give me another fifteen minutes.”
“Excellent.”
“A breakfast tray?” Guerin turned in his chair, glancing over at Michael, who had pulled out a silver bed tray and was stacking it with assorted pastries and a full carafe of orange juice.
Guerin returned his attention back to the table. “You know how I love me some food, but you…” he aimed an index finger at Kenric’s chest, “You never eat. What the hell’s going on?” He pinned Kenric with an unspoken don’t-shit-me look.
“I’ll be getting to that later. Right now, and more importantly, we need to discuss what went down last night, and who I feel it’s all tied to.”
Kenric recounted the previous night’s events to his team, starting with his dream visit from Marguerite. He left out the details that involved his murdered fiancée. His warriors didn’t need to know that. Only Guerin knew the full details regarding his past. With his team, Kenric was neither inclined nor felt a real need to reveal the privities of his former life. They understood Marguerite had been his sire, and that she had a destructive history. And that she relished the power of being a vampire and the superiority it gave her over humans—especially men who had the misfortune to fall in her path.
That alone made her dangerous.
That was all they needed to know.
After he gave details about Marguerite, he moved on to the attack by the three DEADs.
“We’ve got more of a problem than just one DE addict on our hands.” He sighed. “Marguerite is apparently creating her own personal circus of bloodsuckers. I feel that last night’s incident was a taste of what is to come. In my dream, she made sure I was aware of some new power source she’s acquired. Guerin has Elle working on a theory to find out what we may be dealing with. That’s why, from this point on, all patrols are to be carried out with a partner. No solo flights.” The stronger Marguerite became, the more destruction she brought to the human and vampire realm.
He motioned to his second. “Guerin, I need you to make the necessary adjustments to the schedule.” Guerin nodded. Kenric turned his attention back to the table of warriors. “We may not be able to cover as much territory, but I’d rather lose ground than lose one of you to a multiple-DEAD attack. Not saying any of you couldn’t handle the fight. You’re exceptional, or you wouldn’t be here. You warriors at this table are all that’s protecting our existence here . . . and the human population. But it isn’t worth the risk.”
Kenric pushed his chair back. He needed to move. His skin felt too tight over his bones, as if he needed to stretch. He strode over to the kitchen island. Once there, he leaned his back against it.
The cool edge of the tiled countertop brushed the backs of his arms. A nice distraction from the low-level burn that had been ignited at the ER. The etiology behind the feeling he wasn’t prepared for, nor had the time, to sit back and analyze. Kenric crossed his legs at the ankles, showing his team a more relaxed posture than he felt. The rest of his report would not sit well with his Enclave.
“Now, about the food.” Kenric glanced around the table. He definitely had everyone’s attention. “It’s for… I have a…a guest. Her name is Emily Ross.”
The last swallow of coffee made its way down Arran’s throat in one large gulp, choking him. Bloody hell, the looks on their faces alone were worth having her here. Had he become so predictable? Yes, he hadn’t had a lover in three centuries. But he didn’t realize he’d covered it so poorly.
“You have a guest?” Guerin, of course, was the first to find his tongue. “You were in the hospital last night. When did you bring someone here? You never approve of any outsider in the compound without prior notification—and she’s human,” he said, acknowledging the tray loaded down with food. “Why would you, master of our Enclave, take this kind of risk?”
Kenric uncrossed his ankles and squared his shoulders. “There were extenuating circumstances. I would not have taken the risk of bringing a human here unannounced without a very good reason. I haven’t survived all these years without a semblance of intelligence.”
Guerin returned Kenric’s hard glare. Kenric knew his friend and advisor had a legitimate beef about the risk he’d taken with security. But if he had to do it all over again, he would make the same decision. As his second-in-command, Guerin deserved a heads-up on all decisions that could affect the Enclave. Nevertheless, something, and everything, about Emily brought out his protective instincts. He’d be damned if anyone, best friend or not, questioned him.
This time, Markus broke the silence, his deep voice breaking the tension. “So what happened last night that earned us the privilege of a houseguest?”
Kenric swung his focus to the warrior who watched him with cold gray eyes from the opposite end of the table.
“I lost a lot of blood during the battle, and by the time I came around, I was in the ER in the grips of bloodlust. A nurse came in to check on my status, and I had to take the opportunity to feed.”
Kenric let out a deep breath as he dropped back into his seat. He would rather spend a week on the battlefield, fighting and bleeding till the brink of exhaustion and death, than tell his team of his lack of self-discipline with the woman.
The faces of the warriors around him remained stoic. They waited in silence.
“She collapsed.” Eyebrows lifted around the table. Dammit, he had always been the embodiment of self-control.
“I didn’t kill her, for God’s sake.” Kenric’s deep voice echoed across the expanse of stainless steel and tile. His voice was a bit harsher than he’d intended, but he needed to make sure they were clear as to what went down.
“There were already going to be too many questions regarding the John Doe who disappeared from the hospital. I couldn’t leave an unconscious nurse behind with bite marks on her neck. Besides…,” Kenric leaned back in his chair and surveyed the expressions of his team before finishing. “I thought she would be beneficial in cleaning up the situation with the hospital.”
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Guerin placed his elbows on the table. “So, this nurse, how’s she handling the news that she was bitten by a vampire, and that those fangs belonged to you?” One long index finger pointed in Kenric’s direction. “Or have you yet to broach that subject?”
“I’ve told her. She doesn’t believe me. Thinks I’m crazy, or that I’m covering up some kind of military conspiracy experiment. I guess that’s easier to believe than the existence of vampires.” Kenric fought back the urge to smile as he recalled her stubborn defiance. He leaned forward and swiped a hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong, she was frightened when she remembered what happened last night, but she’s shown real courage. Quite impressive, actually.”
Guerin nodded, a slow grin spreading across his face, showing his teeth minus the fangs.
Kenric narrowed his eyes on Guerin. “What?”
“Umm…nothing. I just haven’t seen you ever talk about a woman so…fondly before. Kenric glared at Guerin. The silence screamed, shut the hell up.
“So…what’s your plan?” Guerin said, ignoring Kenric’s glare. “How would you like us to handle this?”
“Arran, Markus, you two can head out when you’re ready.” Their chairs scraped across the tiled floor as they left their seats. “Watch your backs.”
“Always,” Arran said, closing the door behind them.
“As for your question.” Kenric returned his attention to Guerin. “It’s business as usual. Hopefully, things will go well with Emily this evening, and I’ll bring her down to work with Elle. I think she’ll accept the truth and be willing to help. If not, there’s always the alternative.” His mind rebelled the moment the words left his lips. He hoped to hell he didn’t have to go that route.
“Emily.”
Hearing her name drop from Guerin’s lips snagged his attention.
“Her name. It’s nice,” Guerin said. “Is she as pretty as her name?”
Everything that made Kenric a master vampire roared to life. He stifled a growl. His jaw tightened with the effort to subdue his instinct to leap over the table and grab the other vampire’s throat. How dare he even consider her attractiveness?
