“Of course not,” Marcus answered. He gazed around them, searching for the soldiers he knew would be waiting nearby, hovering. At the first sign from Asher, they’d attack. But for all his heightened senses, Marcus could not find them. Inside his head, he felt a slight pressure, as if his maker was pressing against his mind, digging. “Stay out of my head,” he said through clenched teeth.
At once, the pressure disappeared. “My apologies,” Asher said. “It is habit.”
“We are not returning to you,” Marcus said. There was no way he could believe such a thing might happen. Marcus and his brothers had lived without Asher for centuries. They would never be under his control again.
“See…” Asher walked around him, circling like a shark. “You say that, but I can’t help feeling like you’ll change your mind.”
He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. After everything, Asher truly believed they’d come back? Fight his wars? Let him control their lives?
After what he’d done to Briar?
“You hurt her,” Marcus said. He would do no one any good if he managed to die tonight, so he forced himself to face Asher. Each time his maker moved, Marcus moved, refusing to allow the vampire to have his back. “You’re hurting her now.”
“Well, not now now,” Asher corrected. “But earlier today, yes. I’ll admit, I may have thrown her into a tree.”
Anger threatened to undo Marcus. No good to Briar dead. Asher was goading him. He had to keep his head. He unclenched his hands he’d fisted at his side and rolled his shoulders back to loosen tense muscles. “Must have been after she outmaneuvered you.”
Something flashed in Asher’s eyes, a spark of annoyance he was quick to dampen. “She is clever,” the vampire got out.
“Very,” Marcus agreed, forcing himself to adopt an air of affability he didn’t feel. “She’s as smart as Hudson, smarter than me by far.”
Asher narrowed his eyes but shook his head. “If you’re trying to sell me on her, I couldn’t agree with you more. The time I have spent with her has been…” Asher’s golden eyes studied the cemetery. He didn’t finish his sentence but instead strode toward a tombstone. He crouched in front of it as if to read the epitaph.
Marcus shut his eyes, his imagination filling in everything Asher didn’t say. The question flared in his mind again. What had he done to Briar? Her scent washed over him, as if she stood next to him. Immediately, Marcus spun to search the dark cemetery, expecting to see Briar.
“Sunlight, heat, apple blossoms, snow, the sea, wildflowers…” Asher whispered, his voice trailing into nothing before he stood. “She tastes as delicious as she smells, you know.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and cocked his head to the side. Waiting.
Kill him. The vampire inside Marcus took over, and he leapt. His fingernails raked Asher’s neck before the older vampire flung him aside. He crashed into an obelisk, pulverizing the centuries old monument.
Marcus attacked again. His vampire roared, lusting to kill. He sent image after image to Marcus. Rip his head from his shoulders. Asher was ready, but his vampire was primed. The tangy scent of ancient blood filled the air as Marcus tore through Asher’s clothes like they were nothing, into skin and past muscle. Asher roared, but Marcus didn’t give him time to regain the upper hand. He flung Asher away from him into a copse of trees before flying after him. But before he could get his hands around Asher’s throat, something caught him and pulled him away.
Lots of somethings.
Metallic and cold, the scent of soldiers stung Marcus’s nose. He hadn’t seen them but should have expected they’d stop him before he truly did any damage to his maker. Their clawed hands dug past his clothes into his skin. They weren’t trying to kill him, but weaken him.
“Coward,” Marcus got out in a thin voice. Asher let others do what he should have done. They’d weaken him, and then the vampire would step in, finish the job they started.
“I don’t want you dead, Marcus.” The voice breezed over his face, and he lifted a heavy hand to swat it away. “You’re my son. I want you. I want you to live by my side. Come back to me, Son.”
Marcus shook his head, but it flopped from side to side like a single flap of skin attached it. In the cold night air, he could smell his own blood. He felt it leaving his body with every feeble pulse of his heart. He would die here tonight. Something icy and familiar dripped over his lips and he swallowed.
This had been his chance to end Asher.
And he’d lost it.
Chapter Nine
Briar
The sun rose. Briar’s alarm went off, but she didn’t move from her spot on her bed. Hudson remained in the chair next to her, elbows resting on his knees. Every so often, she felt his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
Instead, she drew the blanket tight around her shoulders and leaned against the headboard. As tired as she was, she wouldn’t go to sleep.
The previous hours played over and over in her mind. She’d caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror as she’d peeled her clothes from her body and stood, arms at her sides, to be examined by Hudson.
It wasn’t the way she hoped to reveal herself to him.
Briar released the blanket and trailed her hands down her arms. His hands had been cool on her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could feel him grasp her wrist as he lifted her arm. He’d been thorough, but clinical.
His icy gaze had left a trail of goosebumps in its wake, but it wasn’t because it aroused her.
She was terrified.
Each time he’d paused, she expected him to say, “Here it is.” Or something to that effect.
But he hadn’t.
“There’s nothing here,” he’d said quietly, and stepped away from her. Her robe hung on the back of the bathroom door, and he helped her into it. Then, when her hands hung limply at her sides, he’d belted it and then lifted her in his arms.
To bring her here, where she remained.
“What class do you have today?” Hudson asked, and she shrugged.
“What day is it?” she asked. What had she been working on last night? She’d already forgotten. What the hell was she supposed to do? Go to class, turn in her assignments, and then come home and fall asleep?
Asher would be waiting for her as soon as she did.
Hudson must have stood and walked to the bed because when he spoke again, his voice was much closer. She startled when his hand touched her head, smoothing her hair down her back. “It’s Thursday.”
“Only a day,” Briar said. It felt like so much more time had passed than that. One day and everything had changed.
“Thursday is art. You love that class.” He gathered the hair at the back of her head and then released it. “Briar.” Hudson sat in front of her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She kept her gaze trained on her hands, on the darker spot that signified healing. She’d stuck this hand into the sunlight to grab her glove, and before she knew it, her life had changed. Would she give that up? If she could go back in time, would she choose not to know these guys?
No. The answer resounded in her head. One hundred percent no.
“It’s not until ten,” Briar said, gathering her courage. When she glanced up at him, heat overwhelmed her. He was looking at her with such pride. Why? Because she considered going to class despite the fact that when she came home and fell asleep later this evening, Asher might decide to kill her?
The blankets and sheets rustled as he slid closer. His fingers shifted through the hair that had fallen across her shoulder. It was baby fine and equal parts flyaway and unmanageable. She shivered and shut her eyes, the sensations overwhelming.
“Briar,” Hudson whispered, and then his lips were on hers. He was always so cool, so in control, but it changed when he kissed her. Something happened, and he became as frantic as she.
He dragged himself closer, one hand going to her waist and pulling her into his chest. She caught herself, but quickly wrapped her
arms around him. Dressed for work from the day before, his button-down shirt was still crisp beneath her hands.
She wanted to mess it up. Without giving herself time to change her mind, Briar ripped the hem of the shirt out of his pants and shoved her hands beneath it to press into the muscles of his back.
Hudson groaned, his kiss becoming wild. He nipped at her lower lip and then sucked away the hurt. Briar did the same to him, letting his actions guide her. She acted purely on instinct, hoping that what felt good to her would feel as good to him.
If the sounds he made were any indication, it did.
Hudson’s body came over hers. She didn’t even realize she’d lain down until his chest pressed against hers. He gripped her knee, fingers digging into her skin, and pushed her wide open before settling into the cradle of her hips.
The first touch of his body against hers, and the smooth thrust that followed, had her back arching off the bed. “Hudson!”
He’d begun to nibble at her neck, teeth grazing up and down, before he sucked her skin into his mouth.
“I’ve walked in the sun for decades Briar, but here—” He breathed her in before resting his nose in the crook of her neck. “Right here, I can feel the sun. Smell the heat.” Slowly, he drew back to stare at her. His blue eyes were intense, the ring of gold around the pupil glowing like the sun he spoke of. “It’s the most amazing thing.”
His hips canted, and she shut her eyes to revel in the feeling. One stroke, another. It was almost too much but, somehow, not enough. “More,” she whispered, not sure what it was exactly she needed, except it had to be Hudson.
He did it again, and she moaned before his mouth covered hers. Over and over, he thrust against her, never moving for more. His hands were beneath her shirt, but he didn’t tug it over her head or dive his fingers beneath her sleep shorts, though she thought she wanted that. If her mind could have put together a coherent string of words, she may have asked him to touch her in ways she’d only imagined, but all she could repeat was, “More.”
And he complied. Happily. He chuckled low, moving from her mouth to her ear, and then to the scar on her neck. For a moment, she wanted to stop him. The skin there was sensitive, but also a little numb. The sensations, when they came, were delayed, like sound traveling through water.
“Too much?” he asked when she squeezed her eyes shut and cried out.
“No,” she answered quickly, shaking her head to drive the point home.
He skimmed his hand over her hip, around to her back, tucking her even closer before claiming her mouth again. Something came over her. Maybe it was because she knew when she closed her eyes tonight, she’d see Asher. Or maybe it was something more.
Like love.
But she wanted to touch Hudson. She wanted to feel him and watch his face when she touched him.
Sucking in a breath, she opened her eyes. As if he could feel her watching him, he drew back and opened his own. “Are you okay?” he asked, pushing himself a little off of her.
She nodded and carefully dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. He sucked in a breath, his eyes widening as her fingertips touched the top of his erection. “Briar.” Her name was a prayer, a whisper. His body moved, almost of its own accord, and he thrust into her hand.
Two spots of color appeared on his pale cheeks, and his teeth dug into his lower lip. He closed his eyes but reached between them to wrap his hand around hers. “Harder,” he whispered, and she tightened her grasp. His skin was so soft. When she moved her hand, she marveled at how he could be both soft and hard. “Briar.” He opened his eyes and pinned her with his stare. “This… I don’t want to…”
She might not be experienced, but she knew enough about the world to know what he was referencing. Was he afraid of coming? Of what she would think?
He was beautiful like this—coming apart at the seams. She saw him struggle for control, could see it in the tight set of his shoulders and the way he clenched his teeth, the muscles in his jaw jumping. His hand flexed over hers, like he didn’t know if he wanted her to stop or go on.
He’s waiting. In a flash, she realized he was waiting for her, for a sign this was okay. That he wasn’t frightening her. That this was something she wanted.
She did.
Briar wanted to see everything, know everything, about Hudson. “I want this,” she whispered, smoothing her hand down his length. “Please.”
His head dropped to her shoulder as if it was suddenly too heavy, and he shuddered. He thrust into her hand. His breath caught, and he groaned, coming over her hand. He held her still when she tried to continue stroking him, and lifted his head. The smile he gave her was blinding, but a little embarrassed. He met her eyes and looked away, and then down. “I’m sorry.”
Briar flattened her hand against his stomach and shook her head. “No,” she said fiercely. “Don’t be sorry. That was…” She struggled to find the words to describe what they’d just shared. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, and she wanted to honor that. “Magical,” she finally decided, because honestly, it was. Here she was, a country girl from Beckley, West Virginia, and a smart, handsome, caring man decided to share himself with her. Her!
Hudson shook his head, but this time when he met her gaze, the embarrassment was gone. He leaned down, sipping at her lips before drawing back with a wicked grin. “I’ve thought about this for weeks, but I never thought you’d touch me first.” He licked at the hollow of her throat before moving across to her collarbone. “My brave girl.”
It took a moment for his meaning to sink into her lust-filled brain. His. She wanted so desperately to be his—to be theirs. Hudson sat up, slowly removing her hand from beneath his pants to cage her body in with his knees. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, swiped it over her hand to remove the evidence of his excitement, and tossed it over his shoulder. With one hand on either side of her rib cage, he leaned over again to kiss her neck. “Can I touch you now?”
Briar nodded. He could do whatever he wanted, as long as he stayed with her. When he was here, she was safe and, even if he hadn’t said it yet, loved.
Eyes on hers, he skimmed her pajama pants down her hips along with her underwear. Once, he glanced down at her body. His upper lip puffed out, and she realized, as he turned his head to the side, he was trying to hide it from her. Maybe he’d done the same thing earlier when he’d buried his face in her neck. But whatever the reason, she didn’t want him to hide this part of himself. “Show me,” she said, reaching up to turn his face to hers. “Don’t hide it from me. I lo—” She stopped herself at the last moment, but then took a deep breath. Be brave. “I love all these parts of you. The man…” She trailed her fingers down his neck to rest over his heart before bringing them back to his mouth. “And the vampire.”
He faced her, and she marveled at the being he kept just under his skin. There was no reason to hide the beast; it was part of Hudson. A purer, more violent part of him. This was the part of him that was relentless and indefatigable. It was probably what made him such a good scientist and kept him at his research through the dead ends and the failure. Briar suspected he had a lot more to thank his vampire for than just eternal life.
All thoughts of research and science left her head when Hudson’s fingers dipped between her legs. He teased her, stroking her gently, and her entire focus went inward.
Her body was used to pain. This? This was beautiful. He explored her with his hands while kisses whispered over her neck, across her collarbones, and down to the hollow of her throat. His fangs, sharp and smooth, skated over her skin at the same time he thrust one long finger inside her.
Briar cried out. It was bliss. Sheer bliss. No longer did she have any control over her body. Her hips chased his hand, and when his thumb pressed on her clit, her body exploded. Heat shot along her spine, down to her center and outward, like a firework. She hung on to Hudson’s shoulders for dear life while he muttered encouraging words in her ears.
Sl
owly, she came back to herself, aware of Hudson’s continued exploration of her body. She hummed in pleasure at the little sparks the sensation shot off.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her skin, voice distorted by his fangs.
“Thank you.” she smiled and drew back to see his face. Carefully, she touched his fangs with her thumb. “Thank you for showing me all of you.”
His face got serious, and he pulled his hand away from her body to cup her face. “No one has ever seen me, Briar. I didn’t believe it was possible.”
She gripped his hand, holding it to her. “I’m glad you showed me. Trusted me.”
“I trust you,” he said, a little wondrously. “With my life.”
Chapter Ten
Valen
The first breathy moan seemed to reverberate through the house. Without a second thought, Valen grabbed Sylvain’s arm and dragged him down the stairs and onto the street. It was nearly daylight, but still dark and cold. Sylvain’s breath fogged the air in front of him as he panted, but he wasn’t out of breath.
He was trying to get ahold of himself.
“Let’s go,” Valen said and tugged his brother’s arm. He couldn’t help glancing back at the house himself, but he forced himself to move.
Inside, Hudson touched Briar. It gutted Valen, though he knew it was bound to happen. One day, God willing, he would be the one whose hands were on Briar, but today, it was his brother.
“Not fucking fair,” Sylvain muttered, stomping on the ice that glazed a puddle. The ice was thin, and his boot went right through the crush and splashed over the cuff of his jeans. “Motherfucker!” he yelled, and then, throwing his head back, roared at the sky.
“Sylvain,” Valen warned, doing his best to stay calm when really he was as messed up as his brother over the whole thing. Over and over, his mind replayed Briar’s sigh. “Fucking Hudson,” he ground out.
Sylvain barked out a laugh. The sky had lightened further, illuminating the asshole’s shit-eating grin. “You’re not as unaffected as you pretend.”
Shadow of Thorns (Midnight's Crown Book 2) Page 8
