Briefly, my gaze skimmed the many hardcover and paperback volumes, and all too easily I imagined Santino sitting here, enjoying the quiet of his solitary fortress below the surface.
I dropped my duffel bag on the carpet when he sat on the couch, then claimed the empty seat next to him. The hem of the shirt I was still wrapped in slid dangerously high up my thighs, and something heated came to life in Santino’s silver gaze as he glimpsed the newly exposed skin. My own breath faltered. There was nothing keeping me from seeing the hardness of his erection grow.
The memory of how good it had felt to have him sheathed inside me exploded in my mind, bringing fire to my loins and making me yearn to obliterate this wretched gap between us. But I held my ground, inhaling deeply.
“Any man in his right mind would take you right now, piccola,” Santino whispered, his voice low and thick with hunger I knew all too well. “I can smell your arousal, Liana. I can taste your need for me in the air, so potent and seductive, I want nothing more than to explore its invitation.”
I swallowed. Hard.
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to take him up on that offer, to feel his flesh pierce my core as his mouth claimed mine, so passionately and thoroughly as only he could.
And yet the words that spilled from my lips were nothing of the kind—even if my voice remained husky with burning, almost overpowering need. “Answers first, Santino. You owe me that much.”
“That I do, piccola. That I certainly do.”
He trailed his fingers down my chest, following the line of the unbuttoned shirt collar all the way to the swell of my breasts. But just as my nipples tightened, just as I was on the verge of forgetting my resolve and begging him to knead that sensitive flesh, Santino pushed off the couch. He strode towards the perfectly clear area in the center of the space, the distance between us a painful relief.
“I desire you, Liana. I desire you so badly I burn for you with each moment we spend apart. I know… In my heart, I know that you are my mate. That you are the one I have been waiting for all these centuries. The one to illuminate the darkness, to spend eternity with, loving each other’s scars. My every instinct is thrashing to keep you by my side… But I want the choice to be yours. And I want you to make it with no more secrets lying between us.” He took a shuddering breath, then locked his gaze with mine, the silver so vivid a small sound bubbled into the air from my throat. “This is me. All of it. And if you still wish to speak with me after, I will answer anything, anything you ask me, cara.”
His voice was so raw, I couldn’t even breathe. The weight of his pain pressed upon my chest, the hurt visible on his handsome features bringing tears to my eyes. But I didn’t let them fall.
All I said in a broken whisper was, “Show me.”
Magic spun around Santino in a fierce storm of power, temporarily sweeping him from my sight. I watched the almost electric haze grow, saw him rise towards the looming ceiling with a kind of haunting grace that was captivating and terrifying at the same time.
A soft breath left my lips when the magic faded, and the person standing before me wasn’t the silver-haired, charismatic Italian man any longer, but a magnificent dragon with scales that gleamed like moonlight and eyes of perfect obsidian black. My gaze drifted along his form, along the powerful, silver ridges, then down to the curved talons of such a light argent they were almost white.
Santino stretched his leathery wings slightly, almost imperceptibly, but otherwise made no move. Only observed. And waited.
Waited to see if I would recognize him.
If I would run.
I met his gaze and swallowed. The tales of a fiery death whispered in the morass, the nightmares every Rusalka braved...
All of it was true.
Mesechyn wasn’t a legend.
He was standing before me, his scales glimmering as brightly as the harvest moon on a clear October night.
19
Mesechyn looked at me with those onyx eyes, unblinking. Without meaning to, I held my breath while my heart hammered inside my chest so wildly it sent shivers rushing through every inch of my body. And yet, despite the shadows of terror clawing at my chest, I didn’t move.
I didn’t try to run away.
Not because there was nowhere for me to go, but because I remembered. I remembered Santino’s smile, the warmth dancing on his features every time he looked at me—an echo I was seeing even now.
Mesechyn was a murderer. But Santino wasn’t.
Slowly, I forced some air into my lungs.
Although the shift in the world had altered who I was, I still originated from the very race he hunted. That part of me would never cease to exist, just like I could never forget that I had once been human—a human who had taken her life in a moment of despair after her parents had disowned and thrown her out because of a boy she had thought she loved.
No, I wasn’t just a mermaid. I was three beings, pressed into a single body, each as vital as the next. And Santino—he knew. He knew of my past, and yet all he had done was try to save me. How could I give him anything less than the chance to explain his own darkness in return?
I didn’t know whether my resolution showed on my features, or if he simply felt that I’d stared long enough at the creature who brought nightmares to every Rusalka’s dreams, but the magic swirled around him once more, and when the cocoon of power dispelled, he was Santino again, standing naked on two perfectly human feet.
With trembling knees, I got up from the couch and took a step forward. Then another.
The hurt flashing across his face tore at my heart, and while a part of me wanted nothing more than to wrap him in my arms, my instincts still pleaded caution.
“Sit with me,” I whispered.
Santino remained still for a while longer, then slowly crossed the empty space gaping between us. He swiped a black robe from the nearby armchair and wrapped it around himself, then strode past me to the love seat—mindful not to come too close. That small gesture was enough to dispel any lingering doubts.
Despite having stayed, despite having made up my mind, Santino still didn’t want to do anything that might spook me.
I released a breath and joined him on the couch. The heat of his body washed over mine, the scent I had come to recognize as his now mixed with a hint of fire.
With a start, I realized I didn’t mind it.
This was Santino. All of it.
And I was just as tempted to wrap myself in that ensnaring perfume.
I licked my suddenly dry lips when our gazes met, and despite the roaring of my instincts—placed a sweaty palm on his knee.
“Why me?” I asked. “Why would you save me?”
Santino closed his eyes. A trembling exhale uncurled from his chest, then, gently, he covered my hand with his, his thumb drawing tentative circles across my skin.
“Because I love you.” He looked down at me, the silver in his eyes a blend of shadows and embers. “Because the legend, the hunter, while all too real, isn’t who I want to be any longer. Hadn’t wanted to be for a very long time.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, the admission of his history lying between us like a void. I didn’t question Santino’s affection for me, and my own response to his proximity was perfectly clear, but I still needed to tread with care. Our relationship was too fragile, and the embers of who he had once been could burn the gossamer vines with even the smallest of flame.
“What changed?”
Although he didn’t release my hand, he stiffened. “Do you really want to know?”
“I do.”
He leaned back, resuming to draw circles on my skin, but the caresses became more guarded. Perhaps even a little strained.
“Nothing I say will change what I did,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that I’m not trying to excuse my actions or the blood I carry on my hands. Even if I had been made into a nightmare, it does not relieve me of my responsibility.”
“Made?” I whispered.
“For centuries I believed my parents were the vampire and witch who raised me, that I was some oddity, born of a blend of magic and blood immortality.” He sighed. “I should have recognized the lie when I first encountered another of my kind. But by that time, I was already integrated too deeply in the twisted reality my stepparents had formed… I couldn’t accept the offered truth, even if a part of me fought to.”
I sucked on my lip, frowning. “But why would they lie to you? Adopted or not, it shouldn’t have made a difference…”
“It did to them.” His smile was filled with so much sadness I clutched his knee tighter, wishing I could syphon away the pain. “They wanted a weapon. And for that, they had to isolate me from my kind. Perelesnyks are hunters, but we are not murderers. Not without a cause.”
Unlike some of my sisters, I thought.
A jolt of anger—and remorse—sliced through my insides. The Rusalkas feared the incubi dragons based on a single man’s actions. They—we—allowed that fear to grow into hatred for an entire species, even when the rest of the world saw us in the exact same light.
I shuddered. Gods, this was such a mess… A mess I had inadvertently been a part of.
“So they took you as a child and shaped you to their liking.” I shook my head. “That’s horrible, Santino. How could you have known that what you were doing was wrong? They overrode your moral compass, your instinct, before it even had the chance to develop…”
Fury rose inside me, so thick and sizzling I wanted nothing more than to drown those horrible people. Slowly. I would make them feel every excruciating moment of their lives slipping from their grasp.
And yet I knew that even such a well-crafted torment wouldn’t be payment enough for the damage they had caused. For the innocence they had stolen.
“Piccola… Even so, there is no excuse for all the death I brought upon your kind.”
“Former kind,” I corrected with a weak smile, but the intensity of Santino’s gaze kept me from saying anything more.
“Even if you were still a Rusalka, I would have loved you all the same.”
A sob caught in my throat. I quickly blinked away the accumulating tears and sucked in a breath to calm the raging sea of emotions threatening to pull me under.
“But why go after Rusalkas? What made your stepparents hate them so much?”
“The loss of their children.”
I gasped. “They killed their kids?”
Rusalkas only went after grown men. I didn’t know whether the magic didn’t work on younger males or if it was simply an unwritten rule, but in all the time I’d spent in the morass, not once did any of my sisters even think of drowning a child.
“Oh, they were quite grown,” Santino said with a low growl to his voice. “And they certainly weren’t the innocents Vesna and Savo made them out to be. Their deaths were well deserved.”
“Caz?” I asked after his words settled in.
It had to have been him who lifted the veils of lies for Santino.
Santino nodded. “If it hadn’t been for that persistent bastard, I wouldn’t be here now. He was one of the few Perelesnyks I crossed paths with that refused to shun me because of the reputation I’d already placed upon my scales. We fought. Several times. And still he kept coming back, determined to break through the shell of darkness my stepparents had trapped me in.”
I needed to smother Caz in a fierce hug the next time I saw him, dragon form or not. He’d saved Santino. There were no adequate words to express my gratitude for his selfless actions.
“Two centuries…” He exhaled. “Two centuries passed before Caz found me. My stepmother was already dead, but my vampire would-be-father continued to war with the Rusalkas. He unleashed me on every lake, every morass, or populated river he could find. With time, the Rusalkas became more apt at concealing their location, but even so, I took nearly a thousand lives, guided by Savo’s thirst for vengeance.
“At first, I couldn’t see the truth in Caz’s view of the world. His view of me. Then I didn’t want to. How could I continue with this existence if everything I did wasn’t the greater good I had believed it to be? How could I go on, knowing I was a mass murderer, hunting beings who had done nothing but lived their lives as nature had intended them to? But still Caz didn’t give up. He returned to me, time and time again, standing up to me even when I could have shredded him to pieces…”
“But you didn’t,” I whispered.
“No, I didn’t. I think that inexplicable self-restraint was what broke the chains Savo and Vesna had placed on me. They shaped me into a killer with no remorse, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to destroy Caz just to get to my prey. But even after those binds snapped, it wasn’t easy.
“Caz took me away, spent decades with me in isolation, where Savo couldn’t find us. Eventually, he brought another Perelesnyk, Enyan, to the mountain, and between them, they slowly dissolved every lie I’d believed in.” He glanced up at the ceiling, then met my gaze again. “I killed the vampire the moment Caz released me from our retreat, burned him with every ounce of my hatred that had accumulated in that time on the mountain. But his death didn’t give me closure. It couldn’t.
“I knew that even if I lived for millennia to come, nothing could make up for the atrocities I’d committed. But I joined Caz, nonetheless, first as a guard, then as a member of the police. Saving one life at a time to lift the darkness from my soul. It was only when the violence of the job became too intense that I retreated, offering the community something else.”
The cafe, I realized. A nice, quiet oasis where people could feel safe and calm from the storm that was everyday life.
He didn’t have to say it, but I knew that all this time he was looking after his patrons, keeping them shielded from the nastier, hungry shadows even beyond the physical boundary of that charming square. The glint in his eyes confirmed I was right.
“When I met you”—he shook his head—“I was afraid I would lose you to my past. It was selfish of me, piccola, and I apologize for it. But understand that for the first time, it felt as if I wasn’t fighting for myself, wasn’t fighting to atone…but to save something…someone…precious.”
Tears were streaming down my cheeks as his voice echoed through the air, blurring my vision, but I didn’t care. I only held on to Santino tighter, feeling the weight of his words. Accepting it.
“Even when that someone has blood on her hands?” I asked quietly.
“Not by choice.”
I sobbed. I sobbed as those tears continued to wet my cheeks and tremors gripped my body. For all the darkness Santino had lived through, he had somehow managed to do what the majority of the population failed. He’d seen beyond the veil of prejudice.
He’d seen me for the natural predator that every Rusalka was by law of evolution—not some murderous nymph of legends, a horror, spun out of fear of those with power.
Neither one of us would be able to shed the nightmares we had infused in other people’s minds. But between us, we were liberated from their grasp.
I gazed up at him, searching for words that refused to come as sorrow and fulfillment spread though my veins, then pressed my lips to his.
20
At first, Santino didn’t respond.
For a terrifying moment, I thought he wouldn’t at all, but then his arms were snaking around my body, lifting me up until I was straddling him, our mouths continuing their hungry exploration without hesitation, without pause. His hands slipped beneath my shirt, one resting on the small of my back while the other cupped my breast with tenderness that unraveled me completely.
I moaned into his kiss and tugged on the belt of his robe, exposing his chest and muscled abdomen.
I couldn’t tell who was teasing whom, but exhilaration swept through me, followed by a fierce desire for more. For everything we could offer one another.
Santino groaned, fingers lightly pinching my nipple and nails digging into my back, then tore away from the kiss. He pinned me with that liquid silver gaze that should have scared me, but only inflamed me further instead.
Gods, he was handsome. He was a storm of light and darkness. Ferocity and severity, joined into one.
The spill of silver curls fell disheveled across his forehead, his sensual lips half parted and hunger etched into every chiseled line of his face. And yet I noted a hint of hesitation there, too, casting shadows of doubt and bringing out a fragile hardness I wanted nothing more but to kiss until it dispelled, until it gave way to the hunger pooling beneath.
“Are you certain, piccola?”
I smiled at the raspiness of his voice and trailed my hand down his chest.
I followed the delicate, straight trail of silver curls that ran down his abdomen until my fingers slowly closed around his erection. Desire flashed in Santino’s eyes, but before he could say another word, I raised myself from his lap and guided him past my folds, deeper and deeper inside.
A soft cry fluttered from my lips as he filled me, and I stilled, waiting for my walls to accommodate his thickness and length. I wanted it all. Every sliver of pleasure. Every brush of his flesh against mine.
So I waited, my gaze digging into his, then lowered myself until I sheathed every inch of his throbbing erection. Sensual ripples danced down my back, my limbs, our joining complete with no distance left between us. As there wasn’t in life.
Sirens and Scales Page 85
