Forbidden Passion

by Rita Herron

  “I need to get dressed,” she said. “Please turn around, Dante.”

  A sarcastic laugh escaped him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No,” she said between clenched teeth.

  “Marlena… He lifted a strand of hair and rubbed it between his fingers with a devilish grin. “I’ve already seen every beautiful inch of you. I’ve touched it and tasted it and I will again.”

  A blush stained her cheeks. “That was before’ she said repeating his very words. “We were caught up in the moment.” She clutched the sheet to her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

  “You’re damn right we were.” His sultry gaze raked over her with an intensity that made her nipples harden as if he’d touched her naked flesh.

  As if he was reliving the moment as well, he growled an obscenity, then pivoted, his arms folded. “All right. Get dressed.”

  “You’re insufferable,” she whispered. He had the audacity to laugh, and she shook her head in agitation.

  Hastily, she shed the gown and pulled on her clothes, wincing as her muscles stiffened, and she inhaled the smoky odor lingering on her clothing.

  Seconds later, a knock sounded, then the nurse appeared in the doorway pushing a wheelchair. Dante stepped forward and took her arm, and she humbled herself enough to allow him to steady her into the chair.

  While the nurse wheeled her to the elevator, Dante retrieved the car. By the time she reached the front door, he was parked in front. He jumped out and helped her into his SUV. A tense silence settled between them as he drove her back to her house. A storm raged outside, the clouds dark and rumbling, a funnel cloud swirling behind them.

  “Damn, it looks bad,” Dante said as he dodged a falling branch. “Do you really think it was wise to leave the hospital?” Dante finally asked.

  She shot him a deadly look, frowning as she glanced ahead at the swirling wind and rain. “I’m a doctor, Dante. Don’t insult my intelligence by questioning me.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he kept his comment to himself. The ride stretched out painfully slow, the weather escalating, the funnel cloud chasing them all the way along the mountain until they reached her house. Afraid he was going to do something ridiculous like try to carry her inside, she opened the door and climbed out before he could make it to the passenger side of the car.

  But he quickly circled the front, slid his arm around her waist, and helped her slog through the snow-packed ground and blinding rain to her porch. Shivering with the cold and roar of the storm, she huddled inside her coat while he took the key from her shaky hand and unlocked the door.

  She punched in the security code while he flipped on a lamp in the den and searched the house. When he returned, he stopped and stared at her. “Do you want to go to bed?”

  Exhaustion clawed at her, but she was too anxious to sleep. “Not yet. I might make some tea.”

  “I’ll make it and build a fire. Just sit down.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of making tea,” she said.

  “For God’s sake, Marlena, stop being so damn stubborn. It’s just a cup of fucking tea.”

  She moved to the kitchen, but he took her hands and coaxed her into a chair, then filled the teakettle with water and dropped a tea bag into a mug.

  She hugged her arms around herself. “Dante, you don’t need to baby me. I’m fine.”

  “You’re pregnant,” he said gruffly. “And you almost died in that fire.”

  “But I didn’t,” she said softly. “And I can take care of myself now.”

  “The hell you can,” he snarled. “Someone tried to kill you tonight.”

  She jerked her head up. “What? You think someone intentionally set that fire?”

  He gave a clipped nod. “The arson investigator is searching for evidence. And yes, I think it was arson. Someone who wanted to hurt you.”

  The teakettle whistled, and he poured water into the mug, then handed the cup to her.

  Too tired to argue, she cradled the mug to warm her hands, then carried the tea to the den and curled up on the sofa.

  Dante rushed outside, brought in firewood, and built a fire. For a long moment, he studied the flames, as if they held the answers to all their problems.

  She sipped her tea, trying to ignore the echo of the doctor’s words telling her that she was pregnant and the flutter of arousal stirred by being in the same room with Dante.

  When he turned back to her, though, the flutter turned to a nervous spasm. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat, then leaned against the mantel. “Gerald Daumer was at the lab.”

  She swallowed, tea sloshing over the rim of her cup as her hands trembled. “You saw him?”

  “Yes.” His mouth tightened, and he took the cup from her and clasped her hands in his, then blew on her fingertips to alleviate the sting from the hot tea. “He was dead, Marlena. He died in the fire.”

  Marlena clenched his hands. She’d never lost a patient before. “My God. You think Gerald set the fire?”

  “It’s possible that he started the fire, then got trapped inside. An autopsy should tell us more. Maybe forensics will find evidence of an accelerant on Daumer’s hands or body.”

  “Poor Gerald,” she said in a whisper. “He came to me for help and I failed him.”

  Dante cursed. “Marlena, he tried to kill you. And he may be responsible for three other women’s deaths. And there could have been a lot more tonight.”

  A sudden clap of thunder shook the walls. The windowpanes rattled and a shrill whistling sound screamed through the house.

  Marlena glanced at the window and gasped.

  It was a tornado.

  Prudence Puckett touched the hideous, pocked purple and red skin on her cheek, painful memories wracking her. Pain from the lesson her mother had wanted to teach her—that she shouldn’t use her flesh to entice men, that she had to control her sinful, lustful ways.

  Still, as she entered the Dungeon, the spot she’d found by following Dante one night, her body yearned for t1 touch of a man’s hands, for his fingers and tongue doing wicked things to her flesh. For the pain and pleasure of h cock inside her and the orgasm that would come.

  But the men didn’t look at her now. Not with lust or want.

  They saw her disfigurement and turned away in revulsion.

  She hated them for not wanting her. For choosing the pretty girls instead.

  She wanted Dante Valtrez.

  But he had the hots for Marlena Bender. The selfish bitch wanted all the men for herself.

  Dante Valtrez had seen her at the lab. He thought she’d tried to kill Marlena.

  Hell, she should have. The fucking bitch wanted her to stay ugly.

  But she was strong now. The transfusions had given her power and brought out her will to fight.

  A tall, dark-haired man approached her, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he slid down on the barstool beside her. Judge Brannigan. What was he doing in a bar filled with demons?

  He’d come from one of the back rooms, and the scent of sex permeated his skin.

  He slipped his hand into hers and gestured for her to follow him. Excitement warred with fear as he led her through the dark tunnels, then into a dimly lit room. The chains on the wall sent alarm though her, yet titillating sensations rippled through her as well.

  “In here, I am the judge and jury,” he said as he jerked her arms up and snapped the metal clamps around them. “I am everything to you.”

  She smiled as he fastened the chains around her wrists, exhilarated by the lust in his eyes.

  “Yes, Master. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  The demons met and chanted, circling Marlena Bender’s house. They had their orders. The woman was carrying the demonborn’s child. A child who would be the grandchild of the leader of the underworld.

  A child who could destroy Zion if his sons didn’t do it first.

  A child who had to die so Zion’s plans would be fulfilled and
the anarchy could begin.

  Storm reared back and blew a puff of air toward the Bender woman’s house and the entire structure rocked with the force. The ground trembled and shook, the earth cracking and tearing apart. An avalanche began to rumble from the ridge above and rocks cracked and began to roll down the mountain in a maddening crash.

  Clouds exploded in fury and tore at the roof of the house, sending shingles flying. Trees splintered and broke, raining down in a thunderous roar. One slammed into the roof of the house.

  Inside, the woman’s screams echoed over the noise, screams that were music to his ears.

  Yes. It was beautiful to hear her scream. Screams of fear first.

  And then she had to die.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Marlena screamed as the house shook and vibrated and windowpanes exploded, sending glass spraying the den. A thunderous roar reverberated through the structure, and tree limbs scraped the house. The lights flickered off, then on, then off again, pitching the room into total blackness.

  Dante cursed and dove over Marlena to protect her as a branch shot through the broken window like an arrow heading for her heart.

  “What’s happening?” Marlena cried.

  “I don’t know,” Dante growled, although he had a strong suspicion the elements had attacked. Damn Storm and Father Gio and the whole fucking bunch.

  “Come on.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the hallway, jerked open the basement door, then coaxed her down the steps. Darkness bathed the interior, and he reached for a light, but when he flipped the switch, the power was off.

  “Careful,” he said gruffly. The wooden boards creaked, and the roar of the wind and storm shook the walls, wood splintering. The boom of a tree being ripped up by its roots echoed above, the sound of the tree crashing following.

  “My God,” Marlena whispered. “It sounds as if my house is coming down…

  He wanted to tell her to forget the damn house, but this was Marlena’s childhood home, the one place where her memories of her mother and sister remained intact. Fury rose inside him to think that she might lose that, too.

  And all because of him.

  Another tree splitting rent the air as they made it to the bottom of the steps, and he felt his way along the rail, then urged her beneath the staircase against the cement wall.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Marlena whispered. “This isn’t tornado season.”

  No, just the season for demon attacks.

  She sat down and wrapped her arms around her knees while the wind wailed, more trees thundered down, and the walls and ceiling collapsed above them. The sound of the china cabinet crashing followed, glass and china shattering.

  Marlena trembled, and he curved his arm around her and pulled her up against him, cradling her close while the storm ripped apart her house. She buried her head against his chest, and he stroked her hair and back, trying to soothe her as the storm raged for hours, the constant sounds of wood splintering and collapsing forcing them to remain huddled together to stay safe.

  Fury mounted with each second that passed. Father Gio was behind this.

  It seemed like days that they sat in the darkness, clutching each other, his rage escalating with every passing second.

  Dammit, the demons could attack him.

  But the beast inside him wanted revenge for their attacking Marlena.

  But finally, slowly, the winds began to die down. The tornado passed. A deathly quiet fell over the house, an ominous silence suggesting that the demons were outside watching, waiting for them to emerge.

  Or to see if they had died.

  Marlena lifted her head from his chest, but he couldn’t quite release her: Not yet.

  “Do you think it’s over?” she whispered.

  A low growl escaped him. “The storm? Maybe, for now.”

  “But?”

  “But the danger isn’t. That was the elements, and they’ve only just begun.”

  She turned those innocent eyes toward him. “What do you mean?”

  Dare he tell her the truth? Would she go running?

  But how could he not tell her—she had to know the depth of the danger she faced.

  “The elements were sent by the demons~’ he said. “They’ll most likely attack again.” He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I’m going to take you to my place, where you’ll be safe for the night.” He’d built it in the side of the mountain as a fortress against Father Gio and his team.

  He wanted her there now, tucked away, so nothing could hurt her or his child.

  She shoved fingers through her hair as she stood. “I’ll have to clean upstairs.”

  He doubted there was much left to clean. “Marlena,” he said gruffly as they made their way to the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said softly.

  If she only knew the truth...

  They silently climbed the steps, and when he pushed open the door, the destruction was worse than he’d imagined. Marlena gasped, a soft cry escaping her as she spotted the pictures thrown from the walls, the scattered, dilapidated furniture, the overturned china cabinet, the shattered dishes, the broken windows, and the tree that had broken through the roof. He clutched her hand and helped her step over broken glass, wooden beams, and ceiling plaster~ that had fallen. Rainwater stood inches deep.

  “I can’t believe this,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “First the lab catches fire. And the same night my house is torn apart.”

  He gritted his teeth. It was way too damn coincidental. “At least you’re alive.” He gestured to the door. “Come on,” he said. “Tomorrow you can call a crew to start cleanup and repairs.”

  Her features were strained, her expression pained, but her silent acceptance of his hand at her back as he ushered her through the debris indicated the depth of her shock.

  He grabbed his keys from his pocket, the jangling sound echoing in the ominous quiet as he eased open the front door and looked out. Immediately, he sensed demons surrounding the house.

  For a brief second, one of them materialized at the edge of the forest, then a second pair of eyes and a silhouette moved beside him.

  Vincent and Quinton?

  The images disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared, as if they had literally faded into the night.

  Was it really them? Had they lied when they’d come to see him? Were they working for Zion now?

  Or had those been shapeshifters, wanting him to think that his brothers were against him?

  Tears blurred Marlena’s eyes as she turned to assess the damage again. She spotted the photograph of her, her mother, and her sister on the floor and jerked away from Dante’s hand, climbed over the overturned broken lamp and splinters of ceiling, and retrieved it from the floor.

  Dust and other debris covered the back of the frame, and she wiped it off with her hand, then flipped it over. The glass was broken, but the picture was still intact. She traced a finger over her mother’s and sister’s faces, then hugged the picture to her chest. She couldn’t leave it here. She bad to take it with her.

  When she glanced up, Dante stood in the doorway watching her with a troubled expression. “On the way to my place, I’ll call someone to come out and cover the roof in case it rains or snows again.”

  She swallowed, barely able to make her voice work. “Thanks.”

  Her chest clenched as she took one last look at her demolished house. But as they rushed down the broken porch steps and ran toward his SUV, another torrent of wind swept through, nearly knocking them down.

  From the shadows of the forest, she saw the silhouette of a creature, its eyes glowing, its fangs flashing. Suddenly it roared toward them with a hideous sound. Another creature vaulted from the thicket of trees to the left, then another, the inhuman sounds they made sending terror streaking through her.

  Dante jerked open the SUV’s door and shoved her inside, then turned and flung out his hands. Marlena watched in shock as a
stream of fire oozed, from his fingers and spewed in violent rays of light toward the creatures.

  One of the creatures roared an attack sound, wings sprouted from his sides, and he flew into the sky, squawking as he dipped toward them with a spiked beak.

  Marlena screamed, and Dante flung another fireball at the soaring beast. The fire caught the creature’s wings, and a hideous howl split the night, then the creature turned and flapped madly in the direction of the river.

  Dante jumped into the SUV, started the engine, and sped down her drive, sending gravel and muddy snow spraying behind them as he maneuvered the curve on two wheels.

  “Fasten your seat belt.” He spun the vehicle around, gears grinding as he veered onto the road that led toward his house.

  Marlena’s hands were shaking but she complied. But shock was still rolling through. Real demons had attacked them, and Dante had fought them off with his bare hands.

  Hands that had shot fire.

  The furious gusts of wind escalated, tossing the SUV across the road; tree limbs smacked the windshield and leaves and branches flew through the air. Normally the winter was beautiful, but the bitter winds and foggy conditions now seemed steeped with eeriness and a cold that made her ache deep in her bones.

  Dante struggled to keep the SUV on the mountain road, but the wind knocked the Jeep toward the guardrail. He cursed, gears grinding as he braked and tried to keep them from going over the embankment.

  “My God, this can’t be real,” Marlena cried.

  Dante jerked his head toward her, but another railing wind swept them toward the cliff. Tires squealed and screeched, and he shouted another obscenity, throwing out an arm to shield her as the car lurched forward.

  They barely managed to miss going over the ridge, but somehow he righted the SUV just in time and sped onto the winding drive to his house.

  Cursing, he checked over his shoulder. A sea of vampire bats swarmed behind them, hovering above the vehicle like winged devils closing in, ready to strike. They dove toward the car, attacking the glass, and he veered sideways to fend them off.