Wilder, J. C. - Shadow Dweller 2

by Retribution(lit)

Mac tensed. "Against your will?"

  "Yes, but he never touched me sexually that night. He unlocked the tower door and I stayed with him for almost five years because I didn't know what else to do. I had nowhere to go and I was in shock. I guess it took me a while to realize the ramifications of what he had forced upon me." Jennifer sighed. "Then I met Miranda. Mikhail had left the manse for a few weeks and Miranda arrived unannounced. I'd never met another vampire, I didn't even know if another one existed. Until that time Mikhail had kept me pretty well secluded. When someone would came by I would hide in the tower until they left.

  "Miranda stayed with me for a few weeks. She taught me a great deal and I will always be grateful to her for saving me from my own ignorance. She taught me about the possibilities my life held and what it meant to be immortal. I knew then I had to leave Mikhail. I had to see what I could do for myself. I was going to leave before he got back but he arrived early. He was angry and he stopped me from leaving him. It was that night he begged me to submit to him sexually. He told me he loved me." Jennifer shook her head. "I was so lost and I just wanted to be free to figure out what I wanted. I refused him and he raped me."

  Mac tightened his hold. She slipped her arm around his waist and clung to him, drawing strength from his nearness. After a few moments she spoke again.

  "Miranda returned that night with Val. She didn't know Mikhail had returned. She came back to try and convince me to leave that night. Instead they found me unconscious and a bit worse for wear. According to Miranda, Val, as Mikhail's master, demanded Mikhail relinquish me to his charge. Mikhail refused and Val had to fight him. Mikhail was beaten badly and they took me away with them that night.

  "I remained with them for the next twenty years or so, acting as their gatekeeper while they slept in the daytime. They taught me so many things. They've been alive for so long and they've had so many wondrous adventures. My family refused contact with me and one by one they died off. I was alone in the world except for Val and Miranda."

  "So you were the first person Val took from Mikhail?"

  Jennifer nodded. "Yes, Val saved me. I left Miranda and Val after those twenty years. I guess it took some time for the fear to lessen enough so I could function on my own. I spent many years in Italy, Paris, Germany, Venice and Spain. I never heard word one from Mikhail though I have no doubt he kept tabs on me. During those years I still spent a lot of time with Val and Miranda. They would visit me or I would visit them."

  She laughed. "I heard many tales of the outrageous MacNaughten and his bevy of beautiful ladies. Your exploits were legendary, my friend."

  Mac chuckled. "Is that so?"

  "Oh yes, very much so. When I finally met you in the eighteen-nineties, I was quite on my guard." Jennifer sighed and cuddled closer. "You were so charming and so sure of yourself. You were the first man, besides Val, who actually listened to what I was saying rather than eyeing my chest."

  "I was doing that, too." He gave her a quick squeeze.

  "Yes, but you genuinely love women, everything about them. I knew you were trying to hide your innate goodness beneath those rake-hell stories but I could see through it. I so adored you from the first moment I saw you."

  Mac pressed a kiss to her forehead and remained silent.

  "I needed someone like you so badly. I didn't know if you would stay with me or not but I knew you had to be the first one I would allow to breech my defenses. I was so lonely." She sighed. "We'd been flirting around with each other for a while before Mikhail heard about us. I guess that he felt as long as I didn't show any interest in any man, he might still win me back. Later, after the night at the opera, the night you gave me the pendant of the Sun, Mikhail came to me. He demanded either I leave you or he would kill you. I was so scared, I knew then that I would lose you no matter what I chose to do. I decided that not having you would be easier to bear than if you were dead. Alive and hating me was preferable to losing you to death. I wouldn't have been able to live with that.

  "So the next day I told you I loved Mikhail and I was going back to him. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do," she whispered. "I stayed with him for a few months, out of fear mainly. I wasn't sure he would truly honor his word and leave you alone. Val told me later he never knew anything about you and me until you got drunk and spilled your guts. Once again he and Miranda rode to my rescue. They took me out of Mikhail's house while he was away. I never saw or heard from him again until a few days ago."

  Mac cleared his throat. "It took a lot of courage for you to go to his house."

  "It was for Miranda. I would've done anything for her. She saved me many times over and in the end I couldn't do a thing to save her." Jennifer sighed.

  He hugged her tightly. "I know Miranda suffered in her last days on earth, Jennifer. But when I last saw her, there was happiness on her face."

  "It's so hard to believe that," Jennifer whispered against his chest.

  "Believe it." He reached into his pocket and retrieved the Sun. Gently he placed it around her neck where it lay nestled between her breasts, where it should have been for the past one hundred years.

  "I'll never take it off. This time I mean it." She pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. "Does it matter, that I was with Mikhail?" her voice was hesitant, frightened. She gnawed at her lip.

  He gazed tenderly down at the woman he loved more than life itself, etching each beloved feature on his heart before he spoke. "Things happen to us in our lives that are beyond our control. They don't taint us in any way. They make us who we are. Like steel strengthened by fire, people are the same way. No jo, it doesn't matter to me." The relief on her face angered him. Damn Mikhail....

  "Of course, there is the little matter of all the women you've been with..."

  Mac watched the mischievous look come into her eye. "Oh yeah?"

  "Umm...." Jennifer stretched, pressing her silk covered breasts against him. "I think I need to thank them," she purred, looping her arms about his neck.

  "Oh really? For what?" His gaze fastened on her mouth. He could taste her already.

  "Practice makes perfect," she sighed, pressing her lips against his.

  Mac laughed, breaking the kiss. "You think I am perfect?"

  Jennifer laughed. "I was talking about your sexual prowess, not your personality. That needs work."

  His grin grew bigger, "You think I was perfect in bed?"

  She sighed, "Well, not quite. I think you might be a little rusty. However, with a little practice..." she squealed as Mac flipped her off his lap and pinned her to the bed.

  "I'll show you perfect...."

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  Jennifer lifted her head from the pillow when she heard the front door shut. Was Mac back already? She glanced at the clock. Only a half-hour had passed since he'd left the house. Did he forget something? She yawned, rolling over onto her stomach. The Sun jabbed her breastbone. She shifted the pendant out of the way then stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders to work out the kinks.

  She was completely sated. Even moving was too much effort. And she couldn't seem to wipe the grin off her face. She grabbed Mac's pillow and buried her face in the soft cotton. The pillow muffled her laughter as joy sang through her veins.

  Making love with Mac exceeded all of her deepest fantasies, invented a few, too. She inhaled the scent of the man who'd made her dreams come true in the darkest hours of the night. Languor drifted through her body and she sighed again, shifting to bury her head farther into the pillow.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  A grinned tugged at her lips as she popped her head out of the pillow. Reaching back, she moved the sheet down until only a corner covered her backside. Maybe she could entice him back into bed...

  The footsteps reached the top landing as she arranged herself on the pillow again, facing away from the open doorway.

  One step...two...

  She held her breath.

  They stopped in the doorway.r />
  Silence.

  "Did you forget something?" she called, bending one knee, she waved her foot in the air.

  Silence.

  "Mac?"

  A creak of leather.

  "Why are..." she rolled over. Shock made her blood run cold.

  A giant stood in the doorway watching her, and huge was the only word to describe him. He filled the doorway from top to bottom and side to side. Dressed completely in black, his head was as bald as a cue ball and a gold earring glinted in his ear. His features were coarse, his nose crooked as if it had been broken on several occasions. His narrow black eyes bore into hers.

  Jennifer snatched the sheet and covered herself. "Who are you?" she demanded, hoping her fear didn't show.

  A grin appeared on the man's face. As it grew, the trickle of fear down her spine turned into a torrent. "A friend sent me to pick you up." His voice was surprisingly cultured for one so rough looking. The man ducked through the doorway, gently closing the door behind him. "He desires a visit with you, as his honored guest, of course." He bent and picked up the shirt Mac had pulled off her willing body only an hour before. "Put it on," he tossed it on the bed.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you," Jennifer scrambled to the far side of the bed, fumbling with the sheet.

  "Actually, you are." He held his hands out. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice, Ms. Beaumont."

  She eyed the man's meaty hands. While he probably couldn't kill her, short of beheading, a revenant was virtually impossible to kill, but he could inflict serious pain. She stopped retreating. Maybe she should try taking the offense? Summoning a cool tone, "Please wait by the door while I dress," she ordered imperiously.

  The man paused, then tipped his head slightly. Still holding his hands out to show he was harmless, he backed away to lean against the door. His gaze was insolent as he watched her tug the sheet back into place.

  "Turn around, I need to dress," she ordered.

  "I don't think so, Ms. Beaumont. You might have a weapon hidden somewhere." He smirked, his eyes scraping over her sheet-clad figure. "You don't have anything I haven't seen already." He glanced at his watch. "You have three minutes."

  Jennifer stiffened. Had this beast somehow watched her and Mac make love? She glanced out the window. The house sat on a slight rise and the window overlooked the narrow street and onto the roof of the house where the lovers lived. She felt violated and something shriveled inside. She would never feel safe again.

  "Two and a half minutes, Ms. Beaumont."

  She glared at him and sniffed imperiously, presenting him with her back. She reached over and snatched up the shirt. She struggled into it while trying to keep the sheet in place. As she buttoned it up, she looked around the room furtively for a weapon of some kind.

  Unfortunately for her, Mac was more of a lover than a fighter. She scowled, hadn't he been a highlander a few centuries ago? She glanced at the crossed swords that hung over the bed. No chance of getting to those very quickly. It appeared the twentieth century had relaxed Mac's guard.

  Her hand closed over the delicate chain of the Sun. Wrapping her fingers around the pendant she yanked, snapping the chain. Making a great show of tossing the sheet onto the bed she dropped the Sun on Mac's pillow. She turned toward the closet when a glint caught her eye.

  On a small table near the window, an ornate athame glinted in the sunshine. She walked to the closet bringing her closer to the table. She opened the closet door and made a show of looking for a pair of sweat pants. She gauged the distance between the closet door and the table. One good leap and maybe she'd reach the ceremonial knife.

  Locating some sweat pants in the top of the closet, she pulled them down. Holding them out in front of her, she stepped into them with one leg. Raising the other leg, she deliberately overbalanced, causing her to stumble toward the table.

  "Go for it, Ms. Beaumont. While I like hurting women, I don't think you will enjoy it nearly as much."

  She tensed, her leg half in and half out of the pant leg. Slowly she straightened, pulling the pants on and tying the drawstring. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she said in a cool tone. The athame was only two feet away and her palms grew sweaty.

  "You're a terrible liar, Ms. Beaumont."

  Jennifer laughed sharply, "Where have I heard that before?'

  She bent over to adjust the long pant legs then lunged for the table. Her hand closed on the worn leather handle as three hundred pounds of man hit her broadside. The table exploded under their combined weight, sending them both crashing to the floor. The air whooshed out of her lungs as his shoulder dug into her diaphragm. Gasping for air, she clutched the athame as she wriggled beneath him, desperate for oxygen and freedom. Too quickly, the shortage of air caused spots to dance before her eyes. Her grip weakened.

  Effortlessly, he knocked the ceremonial knife from her hand. He tossed her onto her back as easily as he would a child. She lay face up on the floor with him sitting across her torso. He bound her hands with some duct tape he produced from a pocket of his leather jacket.

  "You bastard," she wheezed. "You won't get away with this."

  "We'll see about that." He smiled; it was an evil smile of intent. He retrieved the athame and dangled it before her eyes. "I did ask you to accompany me, and I was very nice about it. But no, you had to make me hurt you. I think you need to pay the price for this little indiscretion." He licked his lips. "Seeing you are a revenant, it isn't as if I can actually kill you, now can I?"

  Jennifer stilled as she caught sight of the anticipation in his gaze. He was enjoying this. She fought for calm and won by a thread. "Your employer won't like it if you bring him damaged goods."

  He shrugged. "You'll heal. Your kind always does." He reached over and grabbed the trailing edge of the sheet she'd discarded on the bed. Brushing the collar away from her throat, he waved the blade, making sure she watched him as he lowered it to press the tip against her skin. The athame was ice cold and she jerked in response, a desperate moan caught in her throat. The weight of the man held her in place. She couldn't budge an inch. She whimpered as the tip pierced her skin.

  He leaned forward, his breath hot on her face. "Did I ever tell you I love to make women scream..."

  Pain blazed a trail through her as the blade sliced through her skin. A wail was torn from the fabric of her soul, causing the man to jerk his face away from her. For a second, time stood still.

  Blessed silence.

  Dimly she heard the explosion as the windows imploded. Jennifer didn't feel the shards of glass raining down on her. Her attention was focused on the pain that raged from the injury. Stretching down her neck and across her collarbone, blood pumped from the wound in time with her heartbeat.

  Cursing, the giant eyed her. "Witch," he snarled.

  She hissed between clenched teeth, "You don't know the half of it."

  He snatched the sheet and dampened it with her blood. Dropping the stained sheet to the floor, ruthlessly he yanked her to her feet and tossed her onto the edge of the bed.

  The first wave of pain was receding as he taped her ankles together. He tied them tightly, cutting off the circulation and bruising her skin. Jennifer winced and cupped her hands over her shoulder to staunch the flow. Loss of blood was making her dizzy. She concentrated on taking deep, even breaths until the black spots began to fade.

  He yanked on the tape around her ankles, checking his work. His rough movements drew her shirt up, exposing her stomach. Revulsion crawled across her skin as the giant stopped and looked at her.

  He stood and wrenched her to her feet. "Don't worry Ms. Beaumont, I like little boys."

  Revulsion crawled over her skin. Summoning the dregs of her energy, she spat in his face. "Bastard." She sucked in a deep breath as his face darkened with rage. He drew his hand back and clenched a fist, aiming for her face.

  Pain blasted through her jaw as the darkness embraced her.

  The edge of the Sun c
ut into Mac's palm as he eyed the destruction of his bedroom. Rage hummed in his blood as his gaze passed over the blood-soaked sheet again. Vaguely he heard the buzz of voices in the street as the emergency people and his neighbors milled around in bewilderment. Every window within 50 yards of his home had been shattered.

  Only he knew what the cause was.

  A deadly calm descended as he reached for the phone, glass crunching beneath his feet. He dialed and when the voice on the other end answered, he spoke.

  "He's taken Jennifer and I'm going after him. This time he's a dead man. Are you in?"

  MacNaughten clenched his fists, his patience, rapidly reaching an end. "Where are they, Gabrielle?"

  Gabrielle DesNoir licked her lips, her gaze moving restlessly over him. She looked at him as if he was a dish of crème brulée and she a starving woman. She licked her lips before she spoke. "I haven't seen Jennifer since she invaded our home a few days ago. As for Mikhail, he didn't tell me where he was going, only that he had business with an animal or some such nonsense."

  "Liar."

  Her eyes flashed annoyance before she averted them. "Now really, Conor, how rude," she purred. She shifted in her chair, her ruby silk dressing gown gaping to reveal the inner curve of her abundant breasts. "What have I ever done to you, grand homme, that I would deserve such treatment?"

  Mac's lips twitched at her quasi-endearment. "I sincerely doubt I hurt you, Gaby." He picked up a bottle of champagne that stood unopened in an ice bucket. With the ease of long practice, he popped the cork, poured some into a waiting flute and lifted the glass in a mock salute. "Have you ever thought that maybe it isn't what you have done? But rather the company you keep?"

  She laughed. "I know you and Mik have had your differences, but I really think it is time to let this animosity go." She shrugged and her robe slipped off her shoulder. "Boys will be boys."

  He took a long swallow of the champagne in order to give his temper time to cool. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't think of murder as a schoolyard prank," he replied.