Darkness Burning
Page 25
“Again, I’m not seeing the advantage from my perspective. It’s all about you, isn’t it?”
Alex shook his head. “We are made for each other. You’re a woman without memories. I have an infinite store of memories that I will share with you.”
“Your memories, not mine.”
“If we stay close, always, they will be ours.”
“Why would you show me how we met? Why would you let me know you only used me? How does it serve your interests?”
“Don’t you see? It doesn’t serve me at all. But I want you to know me. The good and the bad.”
“Because you think you can love me? Because I’m the one woman who can’t be taken from you?”
He bowed his head. Newborn she might be, but Miki’s mind was sharp. She’d cut straight to the one point he couldn’t deny. He gently squeezed her hands and lifted his gaze. “Don’t you think there’s a hint of fate in our meeting? That we were meant to find each other and love each other?”
“What future do we really have if we must repeat this conversation a thousand times?”
The hint of weary exasperation in her tone wasn’t a rejection—it was just her way of sorting through what she’d learned and trying to discover his true feelings. If she cared about his motives…
He gave her a smile. “That’s where your talent will come to play, love. You’re a writer, a storyteller. Capture our lives together so that you will understand our journey. Capture your own memories, your own thoughts. Then we can skip this whole conversation the next time.”
Her gaze fell to his smiling lips. “I guess it’s not all bad,” she said, her mouth curving into a sweet smile. “I’ll be a virgin each time we renew our relationship. Sex will never be boring.”
Alex couldn’t contain his wolfish grin. He started to rise, coming closer to her sweet mouth.
“Don’t you ‘cast’ for me,” she warned.
“You caught onto that?”
“You thought it; I remember it,” she said, narrowing her eyes. But she didn’t resist as he pushed her back on the bed.
“Guess secrets will be impossible for me to keep forever,” he murmured, his fingers sure this time as he flicked open the row of tiny buttons.
Her hand shoved at his chest. “I’m a reporter! I work for a newspaper.”
“Worked,” he growled. “You hardly think you’ll be able to tell a soul what you learn.”
Miki lifted one dark brow as he opened the shirt and bared her creamy skin. “Maybe I’ll try my hand at writing a novel.”
Gabriella landed on her knees in the middle of the Persian carpet. Once again facing the crudely carved stone walls of Alex Broussard’s magical bolt-hole. “Alex, you lousy bastard, you can’t do this to me—”
Her shout was cut short when the object of her bitter tirade grabbed the hand of the pregnant woman who’d been resting on a deep sofa inside the cavern when they’d flashed inside. He cast Gabriella an apologetic smile, palmed the crystal key to the room, and they both blinked out in a narrow flash of white light.
“Sonofabitch,” she muttered, reaching up to grab the silver-linked choker from her neck that he’d used to subdue her and ripping it off. How could he do this, leave her in his bolt-hole, after everything she’d done to help him in his quest to usurp command of the vampires?
While he’d disappeared for hours, clutching the phoenix-creature he appeared to love against his chest, she’d helped round up the sabat, nipping at the council-members’ heels to herd them toward their rooms where Nicolas posted guards to keep them in lock-down.
Malcolm, Nicolas’s next-in-command, had led away Inanna’s private security force to the barracks for “debriefing” and posted their own men around the compound to keep things quiet while Alex’s closest advisors sorted through the chaos that was the aftermath of Inanna’s expulsion into Hell.
When Alex had at last returned, looking like he’d just had the sweetest sex of his life, Gabriella shook her fur, pulling on her human skin, ready to remind Alex about their agreement when his gaze fled up the staircase, again.
The look on his face, one filled with a mixture of impatience and tenderness, had made her heart sink. When she’d cleared her throat to remind him she was still standing there, another look crossed his face—one that had her backing up a step and stammering.
The collar had been a real kick in the ass. He’d pulled it from his pocket and apologized, all the while grappling her to the ground to loop the damn thing around her neck. “I swear. It’s just for now,” he’d ground out as she wriggled beneath him. “Just until I get everything sorted out.”
If he thought she’d be in any mood to talk to him, to negotiate a transaction to ensure the peace between their nations remained in place—well, he’d have to do a whole lot of begging, preferably on his knees and naked, before she agreed.
The thought of Alex, nude and serving her up a dish of submission, soothed her dented pride for all of a second. Her shoulders slumped, and she released a dejected sigh.
Gabriella never lied. Not even to herself. Alex was lost to her, for good. Once long ago, she’d hired an assassin to kill him, and she’d grieved for centuries, believing she’d killed him in a fit of jealous rage and lost the only lover who’d ever completely fulfilled her dark, sensual fantasies. The past few days, fighting and loving with him had been a bitter reminder of what she’d missed most—but he’d only been playing her, using her to get what he needed from her. When his other lover had “died,” it took only one glance at the desperation tightening his face and the tears filling his eyes to know she’d never hold his heart.
She shook out her hair and glanced toward the bureau standing against the far wall of the cave. With time to kill, she could at least empty his liquor cabinet.
With a glide, she pushed off the floor and strode to the cabinet, lifting one bottle and another until she found a cognac to her taste. Pouring a beaker full of the warm amber liquor, she glanced at herself in the mirror and lifted her glass to toast her reflection.
Noting the red ring around her neck, she wrinkled her nose. Wasn’t the first time she’d accepted a noose. Maybe the Dom in Atlanta would be amenable to a little retraining. Her nipples prickled and extended, spiking at the thought of the nasty things she’d beg him to do. As soon as she settled her business with Alex, she’d give him a call.
Her features tightened and the corners of her lips curved downward. She shut her eyes and downed the contents of her glass. When she opened them again, she stared at the mirror and set down her drink.
How many times had Alex stared into the glass, looking into that dreadful room—the hall where the demons and the dead feasted on each other in Hell. Remembering Alex’s warning about the mirror, she reached up and gingerly touched only the frame.
The hall shimmered into sight. The same scene replayed—people in glittering, bejeweled costumes sitting at long benches in a Medieval-style hall. She shifted to the side to catch a glimpse of The Master’s entrance—the handsome creature whose black aura resembled a dragon’s. With Alex behind her, she’d watched The Master stride into the room, felt a tingle of awareness for his masculine beauty, and shuddered for the power he wielded over the orgiastic bloodletting that had followed. She wouldn’t deny the man fascinated her.
The hellhounds once again stood like sentries at either side of the plank door. She waited for a long while, watched the couple nearest the mirror savage each other on the floor, but still he didn’t appear.
Just when she’d decided to drop her hand, a figure stepped in front of the glass.
Her eyes widened as she found herself staring directly into The Master’s golden eyes. The narrow, slitted pupils slowly expanded, engulfing the irises entirely in black.
Gabriella told herself he couldn’t see her. Perhaps he looked at his own reflection in a matching mirror. Gathering calm around her, she stared back, noting the thick black hair that fell to the tops of his broad shoulders, the neatly trimmed be
ard and moustache that framed his chin and mouth, drawing her gaze to his lips—full for a man, sensual, and beginning to smile.
A chill gnawed at her spine, causing her to quake.
As though she stared into a cobra’s mesmerizing stare, she couldn’t break with his gaze as he slowly raised his hand and pressed it to the glass, his long fingers splayed.
Gabriella felt as though she stood outside herself, watching as she reached up, spreading her own fingers to match his, and pressed her hand against the glass.
The glass began to warm, and then dissolved between them…and their fingers met…
About the Author
Until recently, award-winning romance author DELILAH DEVLIN lived in south Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she’s missing those wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation—the better to feed her hungry muse! For Delilah, the greatest sin is driving between the lines because it’s comfortable and safe. Her personal journey has taken her through one war and many countries, cultures, jobs, and relationships to bring her to the place where she is now—writing sexy adventures that hold more than a kernel of autobiography and often share a common thread of self-discovery and transformation. To learn more about Delilah, visit www.delilahdevlin.com.
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By Delilah Devlin
DARKNESS BURNING
SEDUCED BY DARKNESS
INTO THE DARKNESS
Credits
Cover photograph © Marianne Nyman/Arcangel Images
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DARKNESS BURNING. Copyright © 2009 by Delilah Devlin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition May 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-188965-3
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