The Darkling's Desire

by Lauren Hawkeye

  “You stupid little bitch.” Petra lay on the ground, clutching her ankle. In the pale light of the moon she suddenly looked old, haggard. Anastasia would have felt for her, had she not known what her alleged aunt was capable of. “Do you not understand? These Darklings are the reason that your mother is dead. The reason that our people are little more than slaves.”

  Beseechingly she looked across the clearing to her niece. Though the words struck a chord in her heart, Anastasia did not falter.

  “A Darkling is the reason that I am alive, though I do not condone his actions.” As she stood in the evening light, she saw Jasper staring, seemingly amazed. When his fangs retracted, Anastasia felt a surge of power rock through her, as if she were drawing it down from the sky.

  “There are good Darklings, as there are bad.” Anastasia’s eyes flicked across the clearing to meet Jasper’s. The connection jolted her to the core.

  She wanted this man—no, she more than wanted him. She wasn’t sure what that feeling was, but she knew that her mother’s predictions about the strength of her feelings for this particular Darkling had been true.

  “At the opposite end, there are bad Amazons, just as there are good.” Anastasia forced herself to return her attention to her aunt. She moved the blade in her uninjured hand, as if measuring its weight.

  Petra’s eyes widened in fear.

  “Nastavnyk, you have always taught me that death is preferable to dishonor. Kill or be killed.” Anastasia took a step toward her aunt, then paused, the emotions warring within her.

  Tradition dictated that she take the life of her aunt, the woman who had wronged her.

  Despite having been immersed in this tradition since birth, Anastasia wasn’t sure that it was right.

  “Anastasia.” She turned to look at Jasper, her eyes luminous with a sheen of emotion. “I will do this for you.”

  She paused, considering, before shaking her head.

  “No. It must be this way.” At her words Petra scrambled to all fours, crawling desperately away. Anastasia felt pity for the lowly animal that her aunt had become as she advanced, closing the distance between herself and her blood kin.

  Stalking her. Moving in for the kill.

  “No.” Petra whimpered like an animal when Anastasia finally stood over her. “Please, no.”

  Anastasia waited for the blade to fall. It was what she should have done, what Jasper would do if she let him.

  For a long moment she looked down, memorizing features that she only now saw so closely resembled her own. Tradition said she should kill Petra, but Petra had been right about one thing, at least to Anastasia’s way of thinking.

  Some things needed to change.

  Bending at the waist, Anastasia helped her aunt to her feet, asking Jasper to call in the Council.

  “You will have to live with the dishonor. There is no punishment greater than that.”

  Chapter Four

  “I should send you out on the streets. Trying to kill my employee. Hmpf.” Anastasia felt like a child again as Esme fed the curved needle into her skin. She winced as the suture was pulled tight.

  She wasn’t sure what to say to that. With a sidelong glance at Jasper she pressed her lips together and focused on the bright pain in her hand.

  She had been skeptical about being healed by the human who looked like a storybook witch. Jasper had insisted. Esme was something of a legend amongst the Darklings, a human with a touch of other who understood them and, more importantly, helped them.

  Anastasia decided it would be wisest to keep her mouth shut all around.

  “Hold still.” Anastasia willed her mind to another place as Esme scolded her and continued to doctor her hand. Jasper stood at full alert, his stance belying his years spent as a soldier. Every few moments he paced to the window, stared out for a moment, then returned.

  Anastasia tried to tell herself that it was because he was guarding her that he was being so distant, but deep down she knew better.

  What they had shared in the woods had been the result of stress, of frustration. It had nothing to do with his feelings for her.

  Now that Jasper knew what she was, he would leave as soon as honor told him that he could. He knew that she would no longer try to assassinate Aubrey Hart, that she understood that they were all pawns in the Council’s game.

  The Council would likely send someone else after Aubrey, but his priority was Anastasia’s well-being. Darklings, as a rule, did not much care for those beyond their outer circle.

  He was no different. Aubrey was not his concern. Anastasia was. His presence in her life would only bring more danger to it, and so he would finish his own mission and return to Lviv.

  He would stay far away from her, would never risk awakening her powers, whatever they might be.

  She would never see him again.

  “I have a gift for you.” Anastasia winced as Esme unceremoniously dunked her injured hand into a bowl that smelled of herbs and vinegar. The tonic worked its way into her open flesh, into the pinpricks where the needle had passed through her hand, and burned like the fires of hell.

  She hissed and, finally letting the stresses of the day take over her, glared at Esme. The older woman simply raised an ultrathin red eyebrow and sniffed, and Anastasia knew that she had been chastised thoroughly.

  She sulked while listening to the witch’s heels click across the floor, crossing the room and then returning. Though she could feel Jasper’s presence by the window, she didn’t look at him.

  It hurt too much to do so.

  “You have someplace else to be healed?” Esme again sat down beside Anastasia and pulled her hand from the liquid with a gentleness that didn’t match her tone. She rubbed a soft towel over the skin, wicking away the beads of moisture, then held the hand up in the light.

  Anastasia saw that the edges of the wound had sealed themselves together, and while the skin surrounding the cut was still a bright pink and would probably scar, it no longer looked angry with its crimson blood and curling skin.

  “Thank you.” Experimentally she flexed the hand, finding that it felt much better. She looked at Esme and smiled, though she knew that the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  Jasper was going to leave. Any moment now he would leave.

  She was healed. He didn’t need to stay.

  Esme studied Anastasia’s face but said nothing. Instead she pushed the book that she had retrieved from the other side of the room across the table to Anastasia. Faded leather that might have been green once upon a time covered the pocket-sized pages, and the smell that seeped up from the cow’s skin was ripe with magic and age.

  Esme nodded when Anastasia looked at her questioningly, and so Anastasia gingerly peeled the cover back from the pages. The title page was written in a language that she didn’t understand, and she opened her mouth to tell Esme that, but before she could speak the words rearranged themselves on the page into English.

  Startled, she gasped. Jasper whirled around at the sound, and she met his eyes, momentarily forgetting about the text in front of her. When he saw that she was fine, he nodded stiffly, then turned back around.

  It was as if they had never been together. Irritated now, Anastasia returned her attention to the witch.

  “The book will make itself readable for those who need to use it.” Reaching across the table, Esme tapped a purple-nailed finger on the page to draw Anastasia’s attention. The now recognizable letters had grouped themselves i
nto one word.

  “Halfling.” Anastasia read aloud. She sensed more than saw Jasper move ever so slightly at the word, but she ignored him and focused on the treasure in her hand.

  “This will tell you what you need to know.” Esme rose and smoothed the silk of her long skirt huffily. “Vampires, you never pass down your history properly.” She sniffed looking down her nose at Anastasia, who was stroking the book with one finger and trying to ignore Jasper at the same time.

  She startled when she realized that Esme had referred to her as a vampire.

  “Things change.” This was all that Esme said before she left the table where Anastasia sat, still clutching the book, wondering what exactly, the witch had been referring to. The woman with the brightly hennaed hair moved across the expanse of floor like a steamroller to where Jasper stood stiffly at the window. Without any of the fear that a normal human would display if they knew who he was—what he was—she poked him in the chest, hard.

  “Things change.” She repeated the words fiercely to the Darkling, who raised an eyebrow at the woman who barely reached his armpits. She returned his stare, and only spoke again when he nodded as if he understood.

  Anastasia still didn’t understand, and wished that she did.

  “Aubrey Hart and Gavin Thibodeau said that they will meet you at this motel, if you stop trying to kill them.” Drawing a scrap of paper from the folds of her dress, Esme tucked it suggestively into Jasper’s front pocket. Anastasia’s mouth opened a bit with the brazen gesture, and she swallowed a chuckle at the indescribable look on Jasper’s face.

  Esme winked at Anastasia, but it was done so solemnly that Anastasia thought she might have misunderstood. Then the woman became a flurry of flapping robes, shooing them to the front door of the magic shop, clucking like a chicken.

  “Go. Go!” The bell over the door jingled as the Halfling and the Darkling were shoved unceremoniously through it.

  “And don’t come back!”

  * * *

  Anastasia was nervous. After obtaining the key for room sixty-six at the motel that Dr. Gavin Thibodeau and Aubrey Hart had chosen for their meeting, Jasper had let her go inside and then disappeared, locking her in. She had no idea where he had gone, and the sun would be coming up soon.

  To fill the time she had read the little book that Esme had given her, cover to cover. Though there was now a lot of new information in her head, she couldn’t focus on it.

  She wanted Jasper, and at the same time now understood why she couldn’t have him. The book had told her what she hadn’t understood about Petra’s plan—why her aunt had been so insistent that Jasper be the one to bite Anastasia.

  As with many things magical, the connections between certain people were strong. Only one Darkling’s bite could awaken her powers, and that Darkling had been sired by her father.

  That Darkling was Jasper.

  So she understood why they could not be together. There was nothing familial in the bonds between Darklings, so they did not share blood or a bond in that way—that was not the problem. No, she understood, she did.

  Why would a Darkling want to awaken the powers of a creature that could be used as a weapon against his own people?

  She sighed and closed her eyes against the pain. When she opened them again the light that filtered through the curtains seemed shades lighter, and she wondered where on earth Jasper could be.

  The door was wrenched open right at that moment, and her Darkling—no, no, not hers—stalked into the room, looking just as grumpy as he had when he’d left. The light brightened again, and with a sinking heart Anastasia realized that Jasper couldn’t leave the room again until night.

  Well then, she would have to go, because there was no way that she was staying in this tiny room with this man for the next twelve hours, ’cause that man sure as hell didn’t feel the same way she did.

  Tucking the book into her pants pocket, she rose from the bed where she had been sitting and moved past Jasper, who was still standing in the same spot and staring at her. Her hand was on the doorknob when she found her weight suspended in the air, her legs wrapped around Jasper’s waist.

  Her mouth was devoured, his tongue tracing her teeth. Jasper’s hands fisted in her hair, tugging at the loose strands, and her eyes widened in surprise and then arousal.

  He needed her. The message came through loud and clear. She wouldn’t fool herself into thinking that it was for forever, but she would take this one last time.

  “Jasper.” The word was forced from her lips when he abruptly lowered her to her feet. Turning her in his arms, he yanked the fastening of her pants open and bent her over the bed.

  “Yes.” She groaned out the word and waited for the feel of his flesh sliding inside of her. The channel between her legs surged with moisture.

  The sting was bright as, instead of sliding his cock between her legs, Jasper laid the flat of his palm against her flesh. She gasped, not sure what to make of it.

  He waited, waited for her approval. She could feel the need vibrating through him…and more than that, the desire flooding through her.

  He had spanked her. Whatever had brought it on, she had liked it.

  “More.” She rotated her hips and braced her elbows on the bed. The cheap fabric pulled at her skin, but she barely noticed.

  Her cheeks flushed as she waited for the next touch of his skin on hers, the next slap of his palm across her ass.

  “Aah.” It came, hard and with a resounding clap. Then again, and again. Her world narrowed to nothing but sensation, and she welcomed the narrow focus.

  Jasper traced a finger roughly down her spine, delving between the mounds of flesh that were red from his attentions. He continued until his finger dipped into her waiting heat, but avoided that small area where all of her most intense sensations lay.

  She very nearly screamed.

  When she heard the zip of his pants being lowered, the rasp sounding harshly in the air, Anastasia could have wept with relief. She wanted him to fill her. He made her wait moments more, while he shed his clothes, while he pulled her shirt impatiently over her head. He filled his palms roughly with her breasts, pinched her nipples while she moaned. Then he yanked her roughly backward, his hands on her hips, and hilted his cock in her waiting heat.

  Anastasia cried out loud, the sound echoing off of the barren walls. The sex was rough, and hard, and fast, Jasper tunnelling in and out with a nearly brutal force that her warrior’s spirit thrilled to. When he reached between her legs, pinched the hard nub of flesh that was screaming for her attention she fell over the edge, her cries mingling with Jasper’s as he fell with her.

  Panting, Anastasia let her weight fall onto the bed. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t for Jasper to pick her up, place her in his lap and nuzzle his face into her neck.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He tried to turn, to look him in the eyes, but he hid his face from her. Finally she planted her hands on his chest and shoved. He fell backward onto the bed, and she straddled his hips, pinning him down so that she could see him.

  “What are you sorry about?” She genuinely didn’t know. He didn’t answer, but she saw the look of torment in his eyes and guessed.

  Sitting back on her heels, she huffed out a breath and ran her fingers through her sex-messed hair, trying to figure out how to say what she needed to say.

  “Jasper, I’m not weak. I didn’t need you to save me from Petra. I don’t need
you to protect me…if that is why you’re staying.” This time she was the one who looked away.

  It had to be said, but she didn’t want to see his eyes as she spoke those words.

  “Anastasia.” Reaching up, Jasper took her chin in his hand and turned her back to him. “You were hurt because of me, because I lost control.” It broke her heart to see this big, alpha male so grievous.

  “How do you think I’m going to survive once you’re gone?” Anastasia tried to keep her tone light, joking, but it fell flat. Her own emotions were too close to the surface, too raw.

  “What do you mean, once I’m gone?” Anastasia could all but see the wheels in Jasper’s brain begin to turn. “I’m not…I mean, I thought…”

  “Hold up.” She shifted up his body, placed her hands on either side of his head, bent down so that they were nose to nose. “Talk.”

  Jasper…the only word she could use was squirmed. Finally realizing that he wasn’t going to get out of answering the question he inhaled deeply, though she knew he didn’t have to, and met her head-on.

  “I want to stay. I want to be with you.” He looked concerned, worried about rejection, and she would have laughed with delight if it hadn’t been such a serious matter.

  “That’s perfect. I want to be with you, too.” Before Anastasia could even grin she was pinned to the bed, her mouth covered with his.

  They kissed for a long time, slow, soft kisses that apologized for the earlier urgency. When he slipped inside of her again, bit by bit, Anastasia felt her heart rate increase with arousal. She saw Jasper’s eyes focus on the pulse visible under the thin skin below her ear, and swallowed hard.

  “Do it.” His stare flickered to her eyes, questioning. She repeated her words. “Do it. I want you. I want this, and everything that comes with it.”