Immortal Trust

by Claire Ashgrove

  Yet as the all-too-familiar tap-tapping began against the window pane, Chloe knew even this magnificent man couldn’t chase away the creatures of the night.

  He could, however, make her forget for a little while.

  She brushed her fingertips over his soft mouth. His lips caught the pad of her index finger in a gentle kiss. He caressed it with the tip of his tongue.

  A pleasant ache stirred in her womb, and Chloe shivered. With a smile, she ran her hand over his shoulder. He brought his to her hair and pushed the damp locks away from her face. His fingers settled against the back of her head. His gaze held hers, full of silent meaning.

  They came together slowly, the touch of their lips soft and fleeting. The twining of their tongues languorous. Chloe didn’t know who moved first, who shifted closer to the other, but the shock of Lucan’s body molding against hers freed a pleasant gasp. He took advantage of the parting of her lips and deepened their kiss.

  Warmth flooded through her. This was heaven. The insistence of his mouth, the firm but gentle way he bent her to his will. She ran her fingers along the length of his spine, savoring the feel of hard muscle and smooth, hot skin. Paradise.

  The covers rustled as Lucan lifted to his elbow. A nudge of his mouth asked her to turn her head, and she yielded to his silent request. His lips scored along the side of her neck, sending goose bumps coursing down her arms. She shivered in the wake of delightful sensation and let out a soft murmur of pleasure.

  “I like you here,” he whispered against her collarbone. His teeth nipped, the flick of his tongue soothed. “In my bed. Overmuch.”

  “Overmuch?” she asked. “How can you like it too much?” Seeking to return the pleasure he gave to her, she rained kisses across the shoulder that supported his weight. Heaven above, his skin was just as warm beneath her mouth as it had been beneath her fingertips.

  Lucan skated his hand down her exposed arm to her fingertips before dipping beneath the covers. His palm scraped over the flimsy satin of her gown, rising higher, over her abdomen, along her ribs. He cupped her breast in his palm and rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “Because,” he answered hoarsely. He caught her lower lip between his, suckled, then eased away to look into her eyes. As he spoke, his fingers massaged her breast. “Your nearness plagues me with thoughts of all I wish to do to you.”

  God help her, the visual that surfaced with that raw confession was so sinfully erotic she couldn’t hold in a low moan. She arched her back, pressing her breast more fully into his palm, and slipped her thigh between his. “Tell me,” she whispered.

  With a twist of his hips, he leveraged his weight and guided her onto her back. “Nay,” he murmured against her mouth. Before she could catch and hold his kiss, his lips danced down her throat. Lower until his warm breath feathered across the swell of her breast. He traced a solitary finger over the low fabric of her gown, then pushed it aside. “I would rather show you.” The tip of his tongue swirled around her exposed nipple. Slowly, he drew it into his mouth.

  Chloe fastened her fingers into his hair and closed her eyes. Possessed by unexpected bliss, she bit down on her lower lip and pressed his head closer. Her womb contracted under the pull of his mouth. When he took her nipple between his teeth and gave it a tiny twist, she nearly came off the mattress. Moisture gathered between her legs, and she lifted her hips, desperate to feel more of him. All of him.

  “Lucan,” she murmured.

  He released her nipple to whisper, “Aye?”

  Before Chloe could find coherent words, he pulled down the fabric covering her opposite breast and treated it to the same excruciating caresses. She writhed against his body. He sank his hips into hers, pressed her into the mattress, and used his weight to hold her in place. Beneath cotton pants, the hard ridge of his erection nestled against her aching center, full of promise, yet an unbearable torment.

  She scattered urgent kisses across his shoulder and clutched at his waist. “Take me away from all this,” she whispered. “Make me forget, Lucan. Take today away.”

  * * *

  The fire that blistered through Lucan’s veins ebbed at her impassioned response. His body screamed against the effort of controlling himself, and he let her nipple slide from his mouth. She sought escape. Not a joining of their bodies and minds. A temporary relief.

  Something he was not willing to share, no matter how fiercely he craved her sweet feminine warmth. He wanted her. Not a mere physical release. He had experienced many of those, but never the full union between man and woman that came with the blending of far more than bodies. Deep down in an untouched portion of his soul, he knew she possessed the ability to bring him there. To draw from him not just his sterile seed, but something greater than he had given any woman. And he ached to surrender it to Chloe.

  His body, however, was not so willing to cease as his mind. His hips sank hard into hers. His cock strained against the thin barrier of his sleeping pants. The feel of her feminine heat sent another shock of desire scalding through him. ’Twould be so easy to cast aside the foolish quest for a greater fulfillment, nudge their clothing aside, and thrust himself inside her, claiming what she offered.

  He tempered the severe urge with a grimace. Nay. Ecstasy was not his to claim. Not this night.

  Beneath him, Chloe squirmed. Eyes closed, she turned her head side to side. Her teeth pricked the soft fullness of her lower lip. Against the small of his back, the firm press of fingertips urged him to move. To ease the ache she shared.

  That, he could do.

  “I cannot be your escape, Chloe.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he eased his weight off her body and stretched out along her side. “But I can give you what you desire.” He gathered the hem of her thin gown in his hand and slid the material to her waist. His palm curved over the slope of her hip, cupped the weighty firmness of her bottom as she lifted her leg to set a foot on the mattress.

  It required every bit of self-control he could summon, and some he did not realize he possessed, to ignore the scrape of her nails across his chest. The seeking nature of her fingers as she fanned them over his abdomen. Then lower, until she caressed his swollen length. But before she could rob him of thought and free the willfulness of his body, he slipped his fingers beneath the thin band of her panties and eased them between her legs.

  Chloe arched into his hand with a low moan. Her thighs fell apart, inviting his caress. Lucan ground his teeth together, determined to resist the silken promise of her damp inner folds, and stroked her hard feminine bud. He subtly eased his body away from her questing fingers.

  “Please,” Chloe whispered as she broke their kiss. “Let me touch you.”

  In the slight darkness, her gaze held his. He did not need the light to see the rich intensity of her amber eyes. He saw them each time he closed his own. Knew every burnished fleck of gold. He did not answer her breathless request. Instead, he dropped his mouth to the delicate hollow of her throat and eased one finger inside her slickened opening.

  Chloe’s nails dug into his shoulders as a gasp tore from her throat. Lucan withdrew, to slowly enter her again. Lacking the courage to witness her release wash across her expression, he closed his eyes and listened to the rasp of her breath. The soft mewl of pleasure that tumbled off her lips. Around his finger, her inner muscles contracted hard. He thrust once more, and Chloe came to a swift, fierce release. Her moist flesh pulsed around him, her hips bucked against his palm. From the recesses of her throat, a soft cry ripped free.

  The sound shot down his spine, and his cock swelled in answer. He dragged in a sharp breath, holding it as his body threatened to follow hers. God’s blood, he was no saint, and the naive pursuit of something he quite possibly imagined seemed a quest of the most ridiculous kind. ’Twas a fool’s endeavor. He would find less misery if he yielded to raw desire.

  But Chloe’s body relaxed, and the stinging pressure of her nails eased. She sank into the mattress with a soft sigh. The determination to deny his own needs became easier
as he eased his hand from between her legs and wound his arm around her. Gathering her as close as he dared, he dusted a light kiss over her creamy shoulder. Through a tightened throat he whispered hoarsely, “Rest, my sweet.”

  She nestled close and tucked her cheek against his chest. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  His chuckle helped to ease the tightness of his lungs, and he allowed himself a faint smile. “My day has not been as exhausting.” Giving her bottom a gentle squeeze he urged in a stronger voice, “Go to sleep. I will be here when you wake.”

  * * *

  Trapped and helpless, Julian watched through the demon’s eyes as it let itself into his room. The horror of what had occurred in Chloe’s room brought the danger home. Those claws that could so easily shred metal would rip her into bits. The anger that fueled an onslaught onto her belongings could bring a hundred men to their knees. Powerless to stop the beast, Julian could do no more than shout protests that went unheard.

  His weakening strength forbade him the ability to do anything the creature didn’t insist upon. It grew in strength each day, its horrific spirit rapidly overtaking what they had allowed of Julian’s to remain. Soon, he would watch his sister’s suffering if he didn’t find a way to escape before the beast captured her.

  Julian didn’t delude himself with thoughts of returning to save Chloe. His broken, battered body lay in a useless heap deep within the earth. It would never harbor his soul again. No, escape came with total surrender. Leave the demon to survive on its own, or fail. Whichever fate chose, he would yield and retreat once Chloe’s fate no longer lay in question.

  If the demon didn’t overpower him first.

  A figure in the corner near his bed stepped out of the shadows. Dressed in a long dark robe with a deep crimson cross across the front, he bowed his dark head with a touch of respect. “Julian.”

  The demon thrust Julian forth like a rock hurled off a cliff, forcing him to confront the stranger. A greater torture than merely observing. For although he’d be allowed to act, to speak, as soon as the stranger departed, the beast would cast Julian in chains, forcing him to bear witness as it drew on his thoughts and mimicked all the things that made him human.

  “Yes?” Julian’s voice echoed eerily in his head. It wasn’t his own. Close, but all the same, nothing like his natural timbre.

  “I am Eadgar, servant of Leofric, follower of the Kerzu’s noble ways.”

  The Kerzu—Julian searched for an explanation to the familiar name. He knew it. Yet so many days rushed together that what happened hours before became difficult to remember. All he saw clearly anymore were the things that related to Chloe and the horrors. The vile, despicable horrors the demon reveled in. Each needless death gave it strength. The blood it bathed in when the château slept increased its determination. Things Julian had contributed to. Words that came from his mind, which the demon used on women to lure them into the dark.

  The demon squeezed around his thoughts, forcing him to focus on the stranger. “What can I do for you?”

  “I bear an important message. Leofric is aware of the relic. He bade me come and tell you ’tis of greater consequence than any other matter. You must reach it and claim it at all costs.”

  Risking the wrath of his controller, Julian shook his head. “My sister holds the relic. I’ll see you get it, but I won’t risk her safety.”

  Dark eyes glittered like shards of onyx. The lines of age around Eadgar’s face deepened. “The woman is unimportant! She means naught. You must understand that mankind shall suffer if we fail. One woman is not worth the sacrifice of thousands.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  Eadgar lifted his hand in a dismissive wag of fingers. “She is not a seraph. She holds no purpose beyond uncovering the Veil. If she were indeed marked with the blood of angels, ’twould be a different matter entirely. For then she would become necessary.” He narrowed his gaze. His voice took on a darker menace. “But she is not. And if you must kill her to fulfill the returning of the Veil, you will do so.”

  At the suggestion, the demon’s unholy might enveloped Julian. It tugged at him, drawing him deeper into the recesses of evil, pulling him away until he snatched at the tattered threads of his humanity just to hold on to awareness a moment longer.

  “I won’t kill her,” he protested feebly.

  The man turned to the window, presenting Julian his back. “In battle, sometimes it becomes necessary for innocents to die.” He looked over his shoulder, his expression laden with warning. Before Julian’s eyes, weathered features softened. Youth smoothed the wrinkles of time, and beauty crept in to replace the scars along his hands. Where a middle-aged man had stood seconds before, a more robust, more attractive version took his place.

  In that moment, Julian recognized the same surge of despicable power that surrounded him also radiated off the form near the foot of his bed. He opened his mouth to rage against the opposing beast, to condemn it in all the ways he could not condemn the creature that controlled his mind.

  But the thing that mastered him shoved him aside, forbidding him the ability to voice a single thought.

  Eadgar’s voice rang with the same hollow emptiness Julian recognized as evil. “Should you find yourself unable to acquire the Veil, I will be more than happy to bend the woman to my wishes and see the task completed.”

  “It will be done,” he heard his own voice answer.

  CHAPTER 19

  Chloe woke with a start. Lifting her head from the pillow, she leaned on her elbows and blinked at the dull gray light beyond dark green curtains she didn’t recognize. She’d slept through the night. Unbelievable.

  Momentarily disoriented, she looked over her shoulder at the sound of running water in the bathroom. In a blink, the previous day sifted through the fog of her memory to form a clear picture of her disastrous room and one humiliating attempt at seduction that ended with her release and Lucan seemingly unwilling to go through with anything further.

  Ugh—what had she been thinking? No wonder he was up at the crack of dawn and in the shower. He’d offered her a place to sleep, and she’d turned a sweet gesture into something completely uncomfortable.

  She scrambled out of bed and snatched yesterday’s jeans off the couch. Stuffing her legs inside as quickly as she could, she sought to avoid the sudden stop of running water. As something metal clinked against the sink, she pulled off her nightgown and tugged on her shirt. When he exited, she’d be ready to leave. Ten minutes in her room, long enough to change her clothes since she’d showered last night, and she could flee to the site. Far away from the evidence of how she’d let things go too far and hadn’t been thinking straight.

  But damn, for a few minutes, she had forgotten everything. And oh, how she’d forgotten how pleasant a man’s touch could be.

  Heat infused her cheeks as she remembered all the rest of the embarrassing details. The pleading quality of her words. His quiet refusal. His deliberate caresses meant to satisfy her lust and nothing more. Like he honestly believed she needed an orgasm.

  Chloe snorted to herself. She damn sure didn’t need Lucan taking pity on her sexually starved body. She’d gone a long time. Longer wouldn’t kill her.

  The door opened to the bathroom, and Lucan stopped, one foot in the room. Though he’d donned jeans, he had yet to cover his magnificent chest with a shirt. Head tilted, he rubbed a towel through his long hair. Surprise passed across his face, as if he’d expected to find her still asleep. “I did not hear you rise. Would you like me to send for some coffee?”

  No, she didn’t want any more of his sympathetic consideration. “I’ll wait till we go to the lobby. I want to go up to my room and change. And today I need to get to cataloguing Andy’s pictures and get this sample sent to the lab in D.C. The team needs to continue with the excavation.”

  “Aye. I will take you upstairs in a moment.”

  Chloe picked up her coat and moved to the door. “That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine, it’s daylig
ht.”

  “Chloe.”

  The sharpness of his voice made it evident he wouldn’t accept her objections. As he hadn’t the night before. With a heavy sigh she dropped her hand. “What?” she snapped.

  “Give me a moment to put on my boots, and I shall be ready.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she observed he’d already put on a dark gray-blue pullover. In less time than it would have taken her to slide into her coat, he had his boots on and his jacket over his arm. He pushed open the door, held it while she exited.

  The walk to her room seemed never-ending, the silence that spanned between them, intolerable. Her mind wouldn’t let go of the uncomfortable turn of events the night before, and striking casual conversation didn’t fit. Yet beneath all the awkward glances they shared, a deeper intimacy flowed that Chloe couldn’t hope to ignore. She’d let him through the barriers, even if he hadn’t reciprocated. Allowed him to cross that oppressive boundary of professional associate. He’d brought her to passion she hadn’t experienced in so long she’d begun to forget the meaning of the word, and in the mere act of sleeping beside him, shared an indescribable closeness.

  Deep within her, Chloe couldn’t deny satisfaction thrummed. If she hadn’t blundered everything, she might have allowed herself to enjoy the weighty feeling in her limbs. The lack of grit in her eyes that spoke of a full night’s rest. She had found escape in Lucan, even if it differed than what she’d intended. For that alone, she owed him her gratitude.

  At her door, she inserted the key quickly and hurried inside. “I’ll just be a minute.” Stepping over the clutter, she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself within. With Lucan out of sight, she leaned against the door frame and blew out a hard breath. Eight hours, she must face his nearness. A full day of working beside him—these few moments of solitude she intended to treasure.

  * * *