Harlequin Nocturne September 2014 Bundle: Beyond the MoonImmortal Obsession

by Michele Hauf

  All of a sudden Verity smelled blood. And felt the hot drip of it splatter her cheek. Slater had bitten into his wrist and held it to her face.

  “Just one taste,” Slater said, “and she’s mine.”

  Goddess, it smelled so good. And she could feel the droplet sliding closer to the corner of her mouth. Verity released the fire from her hands and dropped them slack at her sides. Slater’s arm around her neck banded her tightly to his chest. The blood glistened in the flickering glow of the fire.

  Rook held out the stakes, then made a show of shoving them in the holsters at his hips. “Let her go.”

  Verity dashed her tongue out but couldn’t quite taste the hot liquid.

  “Give it up,” Slater replied. “She’s mine. What does a hunter want with a vampiress?”

  “She has another twenty-four hours,” Rook said. “I won’t let her succumb.”

  Slater smeared his wrist across Verity’s lips. “Time’s up.”

  Verity compressed her lips in an attempt not to taste the blood. She wanted to—oh, but she needed to satisfy the relentless craving…

  “Don’t do it, Verity,” Rook pleaded. “I promised you. Remember? I’ll always stand by you, no matter what.”

  He’d promised he’d stay with her beyond the moon. Whether she was just a witch or a witch who was also a vampire. And she believed him. She loved him.

  He was the man she had learned to trust.

  Pressing her back into Slater’s chest, she felt the hard, heart-shaped object in his pocket nudge her shoulder blade. The blood scent was sweet, thick. It would taste better than a Ladurée macaron nestled in a pretty pastel box.

  “Open your mouth,” Slater hissed. “Enough of the big sad eyes from the boyfriend. You’re mine, witch.”

  The vampire shoved his wrist against her mouth. Her lips stretched over her teeth.

  Verity felt Rook’s hand slam into her chest and push her and Slater backward. They stumbled, and Slater’s wrist slipped from her mouth. Her lips parted. She bit her tongue as she landed on the vampire in a sprawl on the floor near the flames.

  A rough shove from two hands rolled her off her captor. Rook knelt over the vampire and plunged the stake into his chest. Ash dusted the air.

  Heartbeats thundering in her ears, Verity blinked heavy tears. They dropped to her cheeks and rolled downward. The vampire’s blood pooled at the corner of her mouth.

  Rook’s body plunged onto hers. He roughly wiped at her lips, smearing her skin. “No,” he said. “Not going to let you succumb. Keep your mouth closed, Verity.”

  She saw the vampire lunging at Rook from behind. Just when she wanted to yell in warning, instead, she stretched up an arm and blasted the vampire with fire. The fireball hit the longtooth in the chest and barreled him through the air to land as a pile of ash before King, who had wielded the stake that burst his chest.

  “I can’t get it all off,” Rook said. He licked his fingers and smeared them around her mouth. And then he dashed his tongue across her lips. She didn’t kiss him. He was cleaning away the vampire’s blood, freeing her…

  And when he did kiss her, it was quick and rough, yet she felt his need to keep her safe in that embrace. And—

  —she tasted pennies on her tongue.

  “I think you’re good now. Only a few more left,” he said. “Stay here. Don’t move.”

  She nodded.

  Beside her, a pile of ash and clothing made her smile. Slater was gone.

  Yet in her mouth she tasted blood. Rook hadn’t removed it all. When he’d kissed her, he had unknowingly impressed traces of Slater’s blood. It tasted dusty, and a spark of satisfaction scurried within.

  Great Hecate. She had consumed blood.

  * * *

  “There he is!” King pointed toward the open doorway.

  A bald vampire dashed out of the room. Rook raced after him. The vampire trammeled down the curving stairs toward the foyer.

  Rook ran toward the balcony railing and leaped over and into a free fall. He couldn’t see much in the darkened foyer below, but he did know the landing was going to hurt like hell. Unless he landed on something with cushioning.

  Which he managed nicely. Colliding with Clas, they went down on the floor, the vampire swearing and Rook’s bones jarring enough to make him reconsider flight ever again. His spine shifted, and his elbow popped, but the vampire who wrestled beneath him didn’t care that his attacker was fighting excruciating pain.

  Reaching for the stake at his hip—it wasn’t there—Rook’s hands reactively went to the vampire’s throat. Choking wouldn’t kill an immortal creature. And the beast was a brute, stronger than Rook, even with Oz inside him bolstering his strength. A boot heel hit him soundly in the spine, and he released the vamp long enough for it to scramble free.

  Above them, King shouted down. “All dust in there!” His boots scrambled down the staircase. “And turning into a raging blaze.”

  Clas got free from Rook, and he swiped for his boot but couldn’t catch him. Springing to his feet, Rook turned in time to see King wrangle the vamp’s arms behind his back.

  “He’s yours,” King said. “Take back the witch’s life.”

  Stalking up to the struggling vampire, the creature calmed and sneered at him. He hadn’t any stakes. And the garrote and holy water wouldn’t get him far. But he didn’t need either.

  If a witch could do it, so could he.

  “You thought she was dead?” he asked the longtooth.

  Clas growled. “Stupid witch. You got in the way. Took something you wanted though, eh? Two somethings you want. The girl and the soul. Ha!”

  “The girl is still mine,” Rook said. “I don’t care about the soul.”

  “Liar.”

  Yeah, well, he wasn’t going to give the vampire the satisfaction.

  “This is for Verity,” Rook said, pressing his hands together before his chest. “Namaste, motherfucker.”

  He made a spade of his fingers and shoved them into the vampire’s chest. It wasn’t an easy task, but the force with which he thrust up his arms punctured skin and muscle and slid between ribs. The heart pulsed slippery against his squeezed fingertips. Gritting his teeth and shoving harder, he pierced the heart muscle and tore out whatever slippery chunks he could grasp through the rib cage.

  Flicking his hand out to shed the vampire’s tattered heart, Rook stepped back. King dropped the vampire, which spasmed and screamed. Dust clouded the air.

  Rook fell to his knees. King backed up to sit on the bottom step of the spiraling staircase.

  Thomas wandered across the black-and-white foyer floor, sniffed at the ash pile, then scampered up the stairs toward the smoking room as he meowed wildly.

  Verity was up there. Alone. Among flames.

  Chapter 22

  Rook stepped back from the wall of heat that whipped before him. All the lines of gasoline had ignited. It was a virtual chessboard of flame, and the spaces of floor were spare. A wind of blaze flashed toward him. He dodged to avoid the orange death.

  He shouted for Verity but couldn’t hear anything over the crackle of fire. Floorboards creaked. The room would collapse soon.

  Leaping over the line of flame, he dodged to the left and leaped over two more lines. The flames farthest from the center of the room were as high as his knees.

  Verity’s voice called out. He found her sitting beside a blazing circle of flames, sorting through Slater’s ashes. To have witnessed the vampires go
up in flames had lifted his spirits. Vampires had burned Marianne. And they had almost burned Verity.

  Never again.

  “We have to get out of here before the flames take over and burn this place down.” He knelt beside her and took her hand. Ashes coated her fingers in a greasy mix. “King is calling the fire brigade. Verity, come on! It isn’t safe.”

  “Not until I find the heart!”

  “The—” Hell, he’d forgotten. He’d last seen the vampire tucking the wooden heart into his coat pocket. It had to have burned to cinders when he’d staked Slater. “It’s a loss, Verity. We have to get out of here.”

  “Don’t say that!” She coughed. “Oz needs you.”

  Yes, do not give up on me now!

  Rook shucked off his vest and peeled his T-shirt off. He tore it down the front and then wrapped it around Verity’s head and adjusted it to cover her nose and mouth. “Let’s make this quick!”

  He peeled away a burned portion of fabric and sorted through the ash alongside Verity. The heat of the flame was more apparent now that he’d removed his clothing. Verity was seemingly unaware of the danger. He pulled her closer, tugging her foot away from veering toward a line of flame.

  “What the hell?” King called from the doorway.

  “We’ll be right there! Just have to find—”

  A means to dismiss a friend he’d lived with for more than four centuries. And a final blow to his immortality.

  So be it. He didn’t need to live forever. Not if it meant Oz would not be there for his family. And not if it meant he might have a few decades to enjoy a family of his own.

  A groaning creak preceded the splitting of wood. The floorboards were giving way not far from where they knelt.

  Rook grabbed Verity’s hand. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Got it!” She triumphantly displayed a piece of wood. She tugged away the shirt from her nose and mouth. “Oh, no. It’s been broken in two.”

  His finger played across the other piece of the heart. It was scorched, but the fire hadn’t eaten into the wood. “What does that mean? Do you think the soul is gone?”

  She pressed her piece next to his and clasped his fingers over the piece. “What do you think? Can you feel it?”

  He nodded. Oz stirred within him.

  I feel it!

  “Oz feels it.”

  “How do we put it back?” she wondered. “How was it removed?”

  “Himself took it out.”

  “Right. Demonic magic. There has to be a way. A spell.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Come on!”

  He grabbed Verity’s hand and stopped abruptly as the flames flared wildly in front of them in a wall that stretched in an arch toward the collapsing floorboards and opposite toward the wall that would block their exit. They had to move forward.

  He felt Verity crush up against his side, fearful.

  “Can you control the flames?” he shouted.

  She shook her head against his chest. Her body trembled.

  He pulled her around in front of him and held her by the hips. Ashes in her hair dusted his face and melted from the heat that surrounded them.

  “You can do this,” he said. “You have to, lover. You are powerful.”

  “But I didn’t create these flames!”

  That was what he was afraid of. He could risk tossing her over his shoulder and rushing through the flames, but he didn’t want her to burn. He was helpless. A man on his knees before the pyre—no.

  “Concentrate,” he said firmly over her shoulder. “Spread the flames, Verity. Make a path for us to get out of here. Will you try?”

  She nodded. Flame licked at his ankles. He adjusted their stance to the left as Verity held up her arms and closed her eyes. Bowing her head, she thrust up her hands. She spoke no magic, but Rook sensed she was delving inward, mining whatever it was within that allowed her to control fire.

  He bowed his head to the back of hers, closing his eyes and focusing prayer toward her. Oz joined in. I honor the place in you that is the same in me. I honor the place in you of love, of light, of peace and truth. We are one…

  Together, they held the witch in front of the flames, not as a sacrifice but as an offering for the wrongs in their pasts. Neither were worthy of forgiveness.

  With a bold cry, Verity swept her hands apart, and a force that billowed through the flames as if clear smoke roiled forward, pushing aside the roaring blaze and forming an aisle.

  “Good girl!” Rook pushed her forward.

  They ran toward the doorway where King waited. Rook gave her a good shove, and his partner caught her and whisked her out into the balcony hallway. Turning, Rook dodged the flames as the aisle closed. He stumbled against the door frame and out into the darkness.

  Verity embraced him, and he crushed her against his heaving body. “You did it,” he said on gasps. “I love you, witch.”

  “Come on, let’s move outside,” King directed.

  Rook hastened behind his friend, Verity in arm. He lifted her and carried her down the spiraling staircase. Behind them the ballroom floor collapsed in a tremendous crash, and as they exited the front door and entered the fresh night air, the shrapnel of wood and marble and flame scattered out through the threshold.

  Landing on the front yard, Rook pulled Verity to him and kissed her soundly, then stroked the ash-flaked hair from her face. “How do you feel?”

  “Stupid for allowing this to happen and for having to depend on you to rescue me.”

  “You don’t like being rescued?”

  “Oh, I appreciate it.” She kissed him quickly. “But if I hadn’t gone out on my own, you might not have had to do it.”

  “I am always here for you.”

  “Beyond the moon?” And then she dropped the brave façade, and tears spilled down her ash-smeared cheeks.

  “Verity? What is it?” He hugged her to him, and her sobs grew stronger. “Sweetie? It’s over. I love you.”

  She shook her head, and when she pulled back, she tapped her mouth, which was smeared with ash and blood. “You tried to wipe it all off, but when you kissed me…I tasted blood, Rook. I’m going to transform.”

  He pressed another kiss to her mouth to silence her silly worry. “I staked Clas.”

  “You—you did?” She clasped her stomach. Checking for the raging hunger? Then with a nod, she said, “Goddess, I think it’s gone. I don’t feel the craving. You saved me again.”

  She plunged into his arms. The witch wrapped her legs about him, and he carried her toward the gate where King waited.

  “You find it?” he asked as Rook passed through, Verity clinging to him.

  “It’s broken.”

  Outside the mansion, the trio made their way toward Rook’s waiting car, followed by a curious cat.

  * * *

  They dropped King off at Order headquarters. Rook drove Verity to her home because that’s where she kept all the items necessary for spellcraft. Much as he’d like to go home and shower off the ash, he wasn’t about to get too far from the witch, who would now never become vampire.

  Kaz, nursing some strange scratches on his face and hands, waited on the front stoop.

  Rook put up a palm to dismiss any excuse he might try. “I know that cat.”

  “Yeah? But I was defeated by a cat.”

  “We’ll talk in the morning. She’s safe. That’s all I care about.”

  Kaz offered another apology and then took off, promising he’d make it up to Rook somehow.

  Verity sent him upstairs to shower while she rang Vika St. Charles. Vika was a witch who had a particular habit of attracting lost souls, so Verity thought she might have a clue how they could put Rook’s soul back inside his body.

  Th
e tub had an ash ring around it when he was finished so he wiped it off with a towel, then realized he’d made a huge mess in her bathroom but didn’t have the energy to try to fix it.

  Towel wrapped around his hips, Rook wandered into the bedroom. Verity stood over her spell table. Barefoot, her skirt torn and blackened with ash, she looked like a bedraggled forest child with the moonlight dancing in her violet hair. Beautiful.

  Sneaking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Although she smelled like ash and smoke, he buried his face in her hair. He didn’t ever want to let her go. She was that which he had been without for centuries.

  And she was that witch.

  “What did the St. Charles witch say?” he asked.

  “Vika wasn’t sure how, exactly, to put a soul back in a body. She’s more about catching the ones wandering the atmosphere. The ones the soul bringer misses. But she’s searching her grimoires.”

  Rook nodded and thumbed his chin. He’d had the opportunity and the displeasure to meet all kinds through the ages. Witches, vampires, soul bringers, werewolves. He knew things that even some breeds did not know. But he couldn’t utilize magic. Only Oz gave him superior strength. And a determination.

  “What about Ian Grim?” he suggested.

  Verity turned a bright gaze on him. “The warlock? How do you know him?”

  “Uh, he owes me one.”

  Recently Rook had been able to help the warlock come into a large number of vampires that he had needed for a spell. Grim had contacted him and given him weeks to consider the proposal. He’d discussed it with King. They’d decided having a warlock in their debt was not to be overlooked. And when was exterminating vampires ever a bad thing?

  “Warlocks aren’t tops on my list, though, that’s for sure.”

  “Grim is kind.”

  “If you say so. I just don’t like witches who take it into their hearts to practice malefic magic. He serves no good.”

  “But he owes you one? What have you done for him?”

  “Can’t tell you.”

  “Or you’d have to kill me?”