by Laura Kaye
Air filled his lungs once again. Not sure why, but he responded and crossed the great room. At the base of her dais, he dropped to his knees.
Not because he wanted to. He had no choice.
His hands fell to the floor, and his gaze followed. Beads of sweat riddled his forearms, making his palms slick against the smooth planked floor.
The air stirred as she neared. An erotic scent of musk, sex, and blood filled his nostrils. It shot straight to his groin, filling his cock to a painful rigidity. He growled, neurons firing in remembrance.
“Marguerite.” He tilted his head back and bared his fangs.
“Yes, warrior. Welcome home.”
His gaze homed in on her wrist and the crimson drops falling from the open wound. Another slice of agony twisted his insides. He hissed a curse, dropping his head.
“When do you plan on sharing? Or is my suffering your entertainment for tonight, Marguerite?” A sudden wrench at his hair yanked his head back.
“That’s mistress to you, minion,” she spat. “And I’d be careful with that mouth of yours if you plan to taste me ever again.” She released his head with a jerk.
“Yes, mistress,” Markus forced out.
She stepped before him and lowered her wrist to his mouth. Grasping her forearm with both hands, he brought it to his lips. He slipped his tongue out and licked once at the puncture. He glanced up from under his eyelids. Her pupils grew large, leaving only a thin ring of green surrounding the black.
Fuck. His cock jerked. Yeah…fuck.
Markus groaned and sank his fangs in.
She cried out. Hungrily, he drank the hot, thick, intoxicating liquid. It soothed the knives in his gut and electrified his veins. Yes! God, how had he ever survived without her taste?
Without warning, she pulled his head back and tugged her arm free.
“No!” he bellowed. “Not yet.” He fell forward. His heart galloped in his chest, muscles spasming in his arms and legs, begging for action.
So alive.
How and why did Kenric ever resist her? To hell with protecting the human race. Every fiber of his being wanted to fuck her.
“Pick yourself up, minion.”
Her voice, a command to his limbs, jerked him to his knees.
“There will be more where that came from. But first, you must give me your report.”
Green and ruby silks shimmered around her as she draped herself on her chaise. Her gaze, the color of a lush tropical forest, held him transfixed.
“Now, minion, were you convincing at your homecoming?” She gave him a smug grin.
“Yes, mistress. No one questioned the story of my disappearance.”
“Excellent.” Marguerite leaned forward with an excited gleam in her expression. “Tell me what you have learned about Kenric’s new woman.”
“Her name is Emily. She works as a nurse at Elizabeth Bay Memorial, where Kenric ended up a few nights ago after being injured. Arran and Kenric are meeting with her tonight. She’s helping him dispose of the evidence that remains of his ER visit.”
Marguerite leaped to her feet and waved a silencing hand. “Enough of that babbling garbage. I want to know if he cares for her. Is he protective?”
Markus tilted his head and met her glare. Rings of red swirled like fire around her green irises. A startling effect.
“Yes, mistress. He placed her under his personal protection and the Enclave’s.”
A shriek ricocheted off the hollow chamber walls. Marguerite whirled, pulling at her hair. She descended the steps in a blur of color.
Markus jumped to his feet and backed away, but not fast enough. Her hand gripped his throat, bringing his retreat to a suffocating end.
“You will kill her for me, slave.”
Markus shuddered, the pressure in his skull climbing to a screaming peak. How the hell was he supposed to do something so heinous and traitorous? The force of her compulsion, combined with the unrelenting hand at his throat, pushed him near the brink of implosion. Shit, shit, shit.
“Kenric’s destiny was sealed the night I made him. He is mine.” Her grip loosened. “This temporary fascination of his will not ruin my plans.”
Markus stumbled back. He drew in a coughing, ragged breath. The crawling warmth of blood returned to his face and head along with the incessant push of her will inside his mind.
“You will see this done for me.”
“Yes, mistress,” Markus croaked out. “Consider it done.” And he knew without a doubt he would. For her. A nagging itch inside his chest said acting on her order to kill the female should bother him. Betraying Kenric—the Enclave—shouldn’t it prove harder to bear? Markus searched inside, reluctantly seeking what had once been his blemished and serrated moral compass. But instead of finding a treacherous knife carving out his gut, a block of ice sat in its place. Hard, cold, and unmoving. Perfect.
A moment in Marguerite’s darkness was all it had taken to freeze his soul, and like a vortex of evil, she’d sucked him into her frigid hell. The potent elixir of her blood and sex, mixed with the intensity of her resolve, had reanimated the monster he’d fought so hard to keep buried in his past. It seemed no matter how many years or miles one placed between themselves and their sins, somehow they find you.
Kharma truly was a bitch.
A slow, satisfied smile that promised great rewards bloomed on her face. His cock twitched, painfully filling the confines of his jeans.
Oh, yes. But he would enjoy his reward.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh God, make it shut up!” Emily lifted her head up from the pillow, groping on her nightstand for the cell phone that wouldn’t stop its incessant ringing. “Hello.” She didn’t attempt to hide her less-than-enthusiastic tone.
“Emily? I was about to come over there. I’ve been calling for almost an hour. Are you okay?”
“Shawna?” She rubbed her eyes and tried to bring the clock into focus. Five in the evening. Good. The sleeping pill she’d taken had done its trick. She’d slept nine hours straight without any dreams about Kenric.
“Yeah, it’s me. I was worried about you. After your break last night, you barely spoke to anyone, and you left without a word. Did I do something to make you angry?”
“No. No, it has nothing to do with you.”
“It was that phone call, wasn’t it? You said there was an emergency. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. You know what they say, this too shall pass,” Emily said, massaging her chest where a dull ache throbbed beneath her breastbone.
“It’s a man, isn’t it? Only one thing would have a woman like this: a man.”
“No. God, no. It’s not a man.” Emily bit her lip and slung her legs over the side of the bed. It really wasn’t. She wasn’t lying. He certainly had all the right body parts. However, technically, he wasn’t a human male.
“I think someone doth protest too much.”
She could almost see Shawna’s ear-to-ear grin and her eyebrows dancing on her forehead in excitement.
“Let it go, Shawna. There’s no man.”
“All right, all right. Call me when you’re ready to talk. And when you’re ready for me to meet him. Can’t wait. Bye, now.”
“Shawna… Arghh!” That woman defined tenacious.
After brushing her teeth and a quick shower, she felt more awake. The hot water had done nothing for the dull pain in her chest, though. It had started right after her blowup at Kenric and hadn’t left her alone since, except for the few hours she’d managed to sleep. Damn…she missed him. It had been less than twenty-four hours, but the sting of his absence went soul-deep. And as much as it chapped her rear to acknowledge the fact, she’d liked having him around. His presence filled a room even in the silence. Although that attribute could be overwhelming at times, Emily had quickly grown to take comfort in its intensity. He drew her like oxygen to a flame. But it was that same heat, the inferno brewing just beneath the surface, that scared the hell out of her, because she didn�
�t want to get burned.
Dressed in her favorite blue jeans and a loose T-shirt, she headed toward the kitchen, when a sudden pounding on the front door froze her in her tracks. She ran to her bedroom, grabbed the baseball bat she kept beside her bed, and crept in the direction of the living room.
Kenric’s premonition of danger looped like a scratched record in her head. Her pulse thumped wildly in her ears.
Another pound on the door vibrated through her. She swallowed hard and raised the bat to her shoulder. Tightening her grip, she stopped five feet from the door and yelled, “Who is it?”
“It’s Kenric.” His deep voice rumbled from the other side.
Dropping the bat at her side, she mumbled a curse before turning the dead bolt and yanking the door open. “What the hell are you pounding for? I live in a condo, not the White House. A simple knock would’ve been fine.”
“Just making sure you answered the door. We have to talk.” Kenric stood with both gloved hands bracing the door frame. The collar of his leather jacket stood straight up around his neckline and black sunglasses covered his eyes. The sun had barely sunk below the horizon, leaving bright pink and red fingers of color streaking the sky and glowing across her doorstep. He rubbed the dark shadow of stubble on his chin. “You gonna let me in, or do I get to simmer on your front porch?”
She swung the door wide, not concealing the annoyance on her face. He eased across her threshold, all hard muscles in blue jeans and leather.
“You’ve got five minutes.” Emily pivoted in his direction as Kenric slipped his sunglasses into his pocket. White rings, matching the outline of his shades, circled his eyes, revealing a red flush to the remainder of his face.
“Dear Lord! Are you burned?” She rushed forward and placed a palm to his cheek. He flinched from her touch. “Your face is on fire. You weren’t kidding when you said you were simmering on my porch. Just how early did you come out?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “What matters is that I need you to understand how serious I am when I say you’re in danger. The only place where I know you’ll be safe is with me.”
“We’ve already had this discussion.” She brushed past him, heading to the kitchen, but Kenric was on her heels. Emily spun back around. He reached out and pulled her to him. She gasped. More from his sudden overwhelming presence than surprise.
“Wildflower, please.” Kenric released her and captured her cheeks between his palms. “Talk to me. Why do you keep running from me?”
She pushed against his chest. His scent and touch clouded her mind. “I’m not running.”
“What do you call it, then, when you keep moving in the opposite direction from the person who’s trying to protect you?”
“I call it taking of care myself. By myself.” A shiver worked its way over her upper arms. The compassionate look on his face proved too much to look at. She wheeled around, desperate to focus on something else. Anything else but him. Her ficus needed watering. She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.
“I respect that, but you need to understand you’re not dealing with a normal human situation here. There is a certain vampire…”
He grew silent. She glanced over her shoulder. The dark expression on his face quickened her pulse. She turned and took a step toward him, compelled to offer comfort, but stopped. He didn’t need her help. She needed to let him go.
He cleared his throat and started again. “She is a very ancient vampire. One who is determined to destroy anyone I care for. And right now, her focus is you.” He moved closer. The warmth of his presence enveloped her.
“She. You said she.” Emily backpedaled until she bumped into the solid wall of the den.
“Yes.” He nodded. “My creator. Three hundred years ago, a vampire named Marguerite Devonshire took my life and turned me against my will.”
“You never wanted this?”
A flash of red ignited and swirled in his eyes. He lowered his lashes, as if he didn’t want her to see the rage, but she knew it seethed there.
“No.” His voiced deepened, becoming something close to a growl of an answer. “I never wanted this. Nevertheless, it is what I am.” He lifted his lids, the blue of his eyes once again as clear as a summer’s sky. His roughened fingertips slid the length of her cheek and jaw before tipping her chin. “She’s found me and is more powerful than ever. Marguerite has gained the ability to visit me in my dreams.” He groaned, tossed his head back as if in pain, then slowly rocked his head forward, capturing her gaze. “She’s seen you. Inside my head, she’s seen your face. Knows you’re important to me.” He bared his teeth, chewing out the next few words. “She will kill you if she gets the chance.”
He made it impossible to maintain her convictions when he got this close. The room tilted on its axis. Her head spun.
She would not do this: succumb to the desire to let him rescue her.
Not with a man this powerful and dominating. He’d lock her in a cage. And she couldn’t handle that.
Maybe, if she went far enough away, got the heck out of town, his presence wouldn’t affect her so, and all this—these feelings—would diminish. She slipped from his grasp, but he caught her hand. “Let me go!”
“What are you doing?” He tried to pull her back into his embrace. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”
“I have to leave.” Emily tugged at his grip. “If I get away from you, she’ll leave me alone. You won’t have to worry about protecting me.” She clutched his bicep and met his gaze, searching for an inkling of understanding. “Please, just let me—You have to let me go.” Her voice cracked.
His expression shifted from shock to anger. He tugged her to him and proceeded to back her up against the wall. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t look at him, maybe she could stay strong. But damn, with her eyes closed, his cinnamon and pine scent, along with the hard feel of his body, drove her to the edge of the cliff known as restraint.
“Look at me,” he growled.
She didn’t want to see.
“Look. At. Me.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. A passion-filled gaze crashed into hers, sending a wave of weakness to her legs.
“You want to leave? Is that really what you want?”
She parted her lips, forced a weak “yes,” and dropped her gaze.
“Really?”
“Yes. Damn you!” She pushed and squirmed without success against the unmovable mountain holding her. “What exactly do you drink, blood laced with cement?”
“Why?”
“Why, what?” she snapped.
“Why do want away from me so badly?”
“Because I have to.”
“Not good enough. Why?”
Why wouldn’t he just shut up and leave her alone?
“Will you just let it go? Please!” She shimmied against him again. He didn’t budge. Her sensitized nipples hardened against the hard, leather-clad wall of his chest.
“Not until you give me a good-enough answer.”
Emily sucked in two panic-filled gulps of air and blurted out the words that refused to stay buried. “Because I want you too damn much, and it scares the shit out of me!”
His body stilled. Silence filled the room, except for the ragged breaths leaving her lungs. The hardened ridge pressed against her hips told her he wanted her, too.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, yet the tingling heat lifting the hairs on her arms let her know his gaze hadn’t moved. His warm palms rode up into her hair as he tilted her face to his. Her breath hitched. So much pain and desire.
“Wildflower.” His hand drifted to her chin where his thumb traced her lower lip. “Believe me when I say, I would die before I brought you harm.” He closed the distance between their lips but stopped a breath away, as if asking permission.
She licked her lips and pulled the lower one in, holding it with her teeth. She didn’t know what else to do with him so close. She would not kiss him. That would be a
terrible mistake.
Wouldn’t it?
Her jaw trembled under the tension. Hell, make that her whole body. Unable to resist, she buried her hands in the silkiness of his dark waves. She moaned. Damn. He had to be the dark angel of temptation, because she didn’t want to live another second, another breath, without tasting him.
Grasping two handfuls of hair, she pulled him in to her starved mouth. The heat of his kiss shot straight to her core, warming and swelling her with desire. She lapped at the sweetened spice of his mouth. The short overnight growth of his beard scraped at her face. Every sensation against her flesh heightened her awareness. Her need for him.
A growl vibrated from the back of his throat. Their tongues thrust in rhythm to the rocking of their hips. Getting him inside her possessed her. This man took her to a place where she didn’t recognize herself anymore.
Emily cried out and broke away from him. “What the hell am I doing? I can’t do this.”
She ran the short distance to her bedroom. Tears swelled and threatened to spill. Blindly, she grabbed her travel bag from under the bed and tossed it onto the mattress. She pulled random shirts and pants from her closet and tossed them into her weathered blue carry-all. Out of the corner of her eye, a dark outline filled her doorway.
Kenric watched as Emily jammed her clothes into her satchel. “You’re running again.” She shot him a drop-dead look but continued to pack without breaking her stride. “I know you believe me when I say I would never harm you. I can feel it. So what is it? Why are you jumping like a scared rabbit?”
Her hands stilled. She turned from the bed, her cheeks a rosy pink, her auburn curls a chaotic mass around her face.
She’d never looked more beautiful. Her gaze met his, swimming in a pool of unshed tears. A sharp pain tore through his chest. He gripped the door frame to keep from closing the distance between them, pulling her into his arms, and not letting go.
“You. Okay? You wanted to know so damn bad. Well, it’s you.”
He tightened his hold on the wood, her words stinging like a strike across his face.
“You overwhelm me. Everything about you. Your power. The things you can do to a human being.” Emily’s head dropped, and she absently worked to fold a shirt.
