“I won’t let you near her,” Joe said, his voice soft, his eyes wary.
Navarro tossed back his shoulder-length black hair and canted his head as he stared.
She felt the subtle mental push as he tried to enter her head.
“Why did you come here, Darcy? You have to know we can’t let you live.”
“Why is that, Navarro?” she asked, striding forward. “Do you think I’m a monster? That I can’t control my urges?” Without giving away her intent with a flinch or a blink, she leapt at him and took him to the ground.
She tuned out the shouts and lifted her head to snarl when Joe reached down to pull her away. She let her fangs descend and dropped her gaze to Navarro who lay passive on his back, his arms outstretched. Tell them to back away. You know I’m stronger than you.
His eyes narrowed. “I also know you don’t intend to kill me,” he said softly. “Lower your weapons. Joe, step back.”
A commotion sounded from beyond the large family room. More people spilled into the room. She didn’t need to look to know that Quentin, Emmy, Dylan and the man from Kamaria’s home had arrived. She smelled them.
“Darcy,” Quentin said, his tone urgent. “Let him up.”
She lifted her head to meet his gaze.
His raked her nude body then locked with her eyes. “I won’t let them harm you. I’ll stand with you, love.” He strode toward her and offered her his hand.
Darcy deliberately paused, giving Navarro another mental warning, then lifted her hand to place it inside Quentin’s.
He drew her up then unbuttoned his cotton shirt and slipped it around her shoulders.
Not that she felt the need to hide herself. She was here to let them know she’d changed, that she embraced what she’d become. That she was strong and determined.
Navarro rose. His deep sigh mirrored the shadows in his eyes. “What do we do with you, Darcy? How do we trust you?”
“I could have cleaved your head from your shoulders with a single snap of my wolf’s jaws—if that was what I wanted.”
“But you want something else from us, otherwise why return?”
“You already know what I want.”
“The child is lost,” Navarro said flatly.
“He lives, and he’s like me.”
Because the witch told you so? he asked, punching through her thoughts—but only because she allowed it now.
“She had no reason to lie. Not to me.”
Navarro’s hands landed on his hips. “It’s not good that Zachary Powell has him.”
Darcy nodded, realizing he was at least entertaining locating her son—if only to kill him. She held still, hoping with all her heart that he’d agree to help, because she needed his resources, needed the council’s reach to find Zachary and her little boy.
Emmy shouldered past Dylan, ignoring the hand he reached out to restrain her. When she stood close, she placed her hand against Darcy’s cheek and gazed deep into her eyes. “It’s still you, right? We’re still good? Forgive me?”
Emmy’s face blurred, and Darcy blinked away her tears. “Help me.”
Her friend’s face hardened, and she turned, facing the men surrounding them. “Anyone lifts a hand to harm my friend, better wish I never get hold of your ass.”
Navarro’s lips twitched, and he drew a deep breath. “She can stay. We’ll figure this out. But, Quentin,” he said, aiming a glare past Darcy’s shoulder, “you broke the rules. You’ve lost our trust.”
Quentin stiffened beside her.
Darcy was too drained to be concerned about his problems. Sunlight strengthened, brightening the room. The vampires winced, but Darcy turned to stare out the window then strolled to the open doors.
“Darcy,” Emmy said behind her.
Darcy waved her off and stepped outside, lifting her face toward the sunshine.
Nothing happened. A smile tugged at her lips. She’d lived in a shadow land for so long, the warm pure light touching her skin lifted her spirits. Gave her hope.
Quentin’s heavy footpads came up behind her, but he halted in the shadows at the doorway. “You should rest. Come to bed.”
She stepped into the sunlight and didn’t look back.
Chapter Ten
‡
Taking the familiar trail to the beach, beyond the softly rolling dunes, Darcy walked, watching the birds hop at water’s edge, watching the sun rise steadily above the water and letting the sunshine sink into her skin.
The last time she’d been here, her belly had been large, round. She’d felt happy and free and so in love with her life that she hadn’t a clue how quickly that would change.
However, she couldn’t linger over the memory of that black day or she’d be lost again. She’d nearly died. She’d slept, her mind and body hibernating, healing…preparing her for this day.
A different woman inhabited her skin now. A new kind of creature, eager to learn her strengths and limitations. The others inside the compound would be wary until she proved herself, showed them what she could bring to their team. Before, she’d felt a little handicapped, less than the extraordinary beings she’d worked and played beside. Now she was a melding of them. Whether that mix was good or bad, she understood, was entirely up to her.
The sun climbed higher, and she turned back, knowing Quentin wouldn’t rest until she returned.
She needed to see him. However angry she was with him, she still wanted him, needed his support. He’d never given up on her, had betrayed his friends, his vows to save her.
Part of her wasn’t happy about how he’d saved her, but another part warmed with gratitude. If he’d let her go, there would be no hope for her child. Zachary Powell would have kept him, used him for his own purposes. Now, that wasn’t going to happen.
She’d accept Quentin remaining in her life, enjoy his company, slake her huge, unquenchable lust with him, but it would be a long time, maybe never, before she’d ever feel the same as she had before. Her anger was too sharp. Too close to the surface.
And yet, deep inside, she acknowledged that she still loved him. They’d lost that first blush of romance. Now the real work of maintaining that love, learning to trust each other again, would begin.
Quentin stood inside the door when she returned. He held out his hand, and she grasped it, letting him pull her toward their old rooms. They may have passed guards, friends, but she didn’t seem them. She saw only the warmth shining in his eyes, the relief softening the harsh lines around his lips.
“Thank you for coming back to me,” he whispered as he drew her into their room.
“I love you,” she said, her throat feeling thick, but holding back from the embrace he offered.
Tears glittered in his eyes, and he unbuttoned the shirt she wore and pushed it off her shoulders. “I missed you. I missed this.” He knelt in front of her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His face nestled against her belly, and he kissed it. “I’ll help you find our child.”
Her eyes filled with relief, and she combed her fingers through his hair, tugging to tilt back his face. Cupping his cheeks, she wiped his tears with her thumbs. “Love me,” she said softly.
“Forever. Until I die.” He stood and picked her up, carrying to their bed. He laid her in the center then removed his clothes. “I want to make love to you.”
“You don’t have to ask. I want you, too. Make me feel alive.”
Quentin joined her on the bed, settling his long, muscular frame over hers. He framed her face and lowered his head, his eyes open as he kissed her.
She breathed into his mouth, her sigh coming from her heart. Wrapping her arms around his back, she stroked his tongue, lifted her knees and nearly wept when he thrust inside.
Quentin paused, sighing deeply, then shook his head. “I want to make this right. Make it the best we’ve ever had.”
“You aren’t tired? The sun is rising,” she teased, stroking his skin.
“I’ve barely slept since…” A ragged breath shudd
ered through him.
Darcy pressed a finger against his lips. “We’re together now. I don’t care what happened while I slept. You did what you had to. I know it cost you.”
“I’ll never betray you again.”
Looking deep into his eyes, she believed him. Deep, dreamy blue…like the color of her beloved ocean. Constant. Cleansing. “Remind me how it was between us,” she whispered.
Quentin pulled free of her embrace, and she groaned in disappointment.
His laughter sounded a little rusty, but it warmed her, and she felt a smile stretch her mouth as he scooted down the bed.
He bent over her mound, a thumb stroking her clit. A hint of mischief gleamed in his expression, and he opened his mouth and suckled her there.
Her body arched, breath leaving in an anguished rush. This was what they’d had. Endless passion—hot, quick, soul-consuming.
Strong hands pressed her legs farther apart, and he nuzzled into the crease of her thigh. His tongue stroked her pulse there, and then he bit.
Pleasure washed through her, soaking the bed beneath her bottom as he pulled her blood into his mouth and moaned.
Her mind floated toward the ceiling, darkness closing around the edges, and suddenly she saw them…on the beach where they’d first met when he’d captured her and covered her body, teasing arousal from her even as her police officer buddies had rushed to her rescue…in the shower when he’d first taken her against the cool tiles…in his arms when he’d plucked her from the river and sobbed because he’d thought he was too late to save her, until she’d coughed and opened her eyes.
Those are his thoughts! she realized. The moments he treasured. She saw herself as he did, strong but afraid, aroused but fighting the attraction. And she felt the warmth building inside his chest, unlocking his heart. To her.
When she came down, he kissed her belly, eased upward to tongue her nipples and glide his lip along her neck, her jaw and at last her mouth.
Joyfully, she returned his kiss, and then pressed against his chest.
Quentin lifted his weight from her and broke the kiss. His wary glance told her more than the memories they’d shared that he still wasn’t sure about her heart.
“I’ve never had the pleasure,” she said softly, waiting for a sign that he understood.
He blinked, and then his mouth crimped up on one side. Rolling to his back, he placed his hands beneath his head. “I’m yours.”
Darcy crawled over him, letting her teeth slide down and lifting her lips in warning.
His eyebrows rose, but his breaths remained even.
She could take him, kill him where he lay. And he knew it.
“Just so we’re clear, husband,” she said, rubbing her breasts against his. “You may feed from any neck, but your ass will only be mine.”
He quirked a brow. “Do I get the same privilege?”
“No.” She narrowed her gaze. “But I’ll let you watch.”
Quentin’s chest rose and his jaw clenched, but he gave her a short, sharp nod.
“You’ve had decades of women to learn what you needed to know about this life. It’s only fair I have the same.”
“You’ll fuck them?” he bit out.
She wanted to say yes. Wanted to make him angry—and again, she realized there was a deep well of anger inside her that she’d not easily overcome. But she couldn’t lie. “I have no desire to sleep with another man…not my husband. But I will take from them what I need…short of that.”
Quentin swallowed and drew one hand from beneath his head to cup her cheek. “I’ll share this new world with you, teach you how to navigate. I won’t fetter you. You deserve all the pleasures you can find.”
She canted her head. “You’d do that? You’re a jealous bastard.”
“I’ve been a selfish one.”
Her eyes filled. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Quentin?” she said, her voice thickening with tears.
“Yes, love?”
“I need you. Now.”
His thumb brushed the edge of her fang, drawing blood. He painted her bottom lip with it then smiled. “Take my life, it’s yours.”
Darcy’s tears slid down her cheeks, and she stroked her bottom lip with her tongue, tasting his blood. Her heart thudded against her chest and blood surged. Her pussy swelled, and she felt her face tighten, bones crackling as her face transformed.
She controlled it, tightening above him, stopping short of extending her snout, letting only soft bristles of hair sprout to cloak her skin. She wanted blood, but only to fill her vampire’s appetite. The wolf she kept tightly leashed.
His nostrils flared with excitement, and his entire body grew rigid beneath her, but he turned his head, offering his neck—surrendering to her. She sank her teeth deep, thrusting her fingers into his hair and rocking her cunt over his hard cock, stroking, stroking, but not lifting her hips to take him inside.
She knew her limits. Ease the edge of her hunger then seek sexual fulfillment. Only when one appetite was appeased could she seek to slake the other.
His blood was sweeter, richer than what she’d tasted before, but she didn’t know if it was because it came from a vampire or because it was flavored with love.
His fingers bit into her shoulders, and she gasped, the air clearing her mind enough so that she knew she’d taken enough. She licked his wounds then kissed him, letting him taste himself on her lips.
“Darcy,” he growled, his words muffled against her mouth.
Take me. Fuck me now!
His breath caught, his eyes widened, but his mouth stretched into a smile beneath hers. He had her on her back in the very next heartbeat.
“This telepathy thing can be very convenient,” he murmured.
“For when my mouth is full?” she said, arching her brows.
His smile was pure Quentin—full of devilish charm. His cock nudged her folds, and she couldn’t help the wet caress her body offered in return. The sound was succulent, seductive. She gave him a silent waggle of her eyebrows, relieved that they could find humor in each other again.
His forehead dropped against hers, and he thrust deeply. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he moaned as he ground.
Darcy scratched her nails down his back, remembering how he loved it. When she reached his ass, she dug deeper. “Move already.”
“Bossy!”
She grinned even as her eyes filled again. This felt so familiar, but they weren’t the same, nothing was the same as it had been before—except for the searing heat and solid weight of him—and the intensity of the love beaming from his wonderful blue eyes.
When he began to rock, his cock driving deeply, urgency building quickly, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to his mastery.
They had a long way to go before things were right between them, but this was a fine start. She wouldn’t look back. Only forward. Later, they’d gather with the others and make their plans. But right now, she renewed her vows with this man who’d captured her heart from the first night she’d met him.
Quentin couldn’t exist without her; she knew her life wouldn’t be as full or happy without him. As a pair, they were stronger than their separate selves. Whatever tests lay in their future, they would see them through together.
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred-sixty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Kindle, Kindle Worlds, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.
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If you loved Truly, Madly…Werely, check out the rest of Delilah’s Night Fall series!
Sm{B}itten
Love Bites!
Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!
Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not human.
Truly, Madly…Deadly
Just this once…
On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position—atop one of the unit’s crack officers, Darcy Henry. In need of Quentin’s access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.
Caught between opposing forces, vampire and hunter…
A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men’s relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire’s special “kiss”.
Truly, Madly...Werely (Night Fall Book 9) Page 9
