by Jessica Lee
“Give me another fifteen minutes.”
“Excellent.”
“A breakfast tray?” Guerin turned in his chair, glancing over at Michael, who had pulled out a silver bed tray and was stacking it with assorted pastries and a full carafe of orange juice.
Guerin returned his attention back to the table. “You know how I love me some food, but you…” he aimed an index finger at Kenric’s chest, “You never eat. What the hell’s going on?” He pinned Kenric with an unspoken don’t-shit-me look.
“I’ll be getting to that later. Right now, and more importantly, we need to discuss what went down last night, and who I feel it’s all tied to.”
Kenric recounted the previous night’s events to his team, starting with his dream visit from Marguerite. He left out the details that involved his murdered fiancée. His warriors didn’t need to know that. Only Guerin knew the full details regarding his past. With his team, Kenric was neither inclined nor felt a real need to reveal the privities of his former life. They understood Marguerite had been his sire, and that she had a destructive history. And that she relished the power of being a vampire and the superiority it gave her over humans—especially men who had the misfortune to fall in her path.
That alone made her dangerous.
That was all they needed to know.
After he gave details about Marguerite, he moved on to the attack by the three DEADs.
“We’ve got more of a problem than just one DE addict on our hands.” He sighed. “Marguerite is apparently creating her own personal circus of bloodsuckers. I feel that last night’s incident was a taste of what is to come. In my dream, she made sure I was aware of some new power source she’s acquired. Guerin has Elle working on a theory to find out what we may be dealing with. That’s why, from this point on, all patrols are to be carried out with a partner. No solo flights.” The stronger Marguerite became, the more destruction she brought to the human and vampire realm.
He motioned to his second. “Guerin, I need you to make the necessary adjustments to the schedule.” Guerin nodded. Kenric turned his attention back to the table of warriors. “We may not be able to cover as much territory, but I’d rather lose ground than lose one of you to a multiple-DEAD attack. Not saying any of you couldn’t handle the fight. You’re exceptional, or you wouldn’t be here. You warriors at this table are all that’s protecting our existence here . . . and the human population. But it isn’t worth the risk.”
Kenric pushed his chair back. He needed to move. His skin felt too tight over his bones, as if he needed to stretch. He strode over to the kitchen island. Once there, he leaned his back against it.
The cool edge of the tiled countertop brushed the backs of his arms. A nice distraction from the low-level burn that had been ignited at the ER. The etiology behind the feeling he wasn’t prepared for, nor had the time, to sit back and analyze. Kenric crossed his legs at the ankles, showing his team a more relaxed posture than he felt. The rest of his report would not sit well with his Enclave.
“Now, about the food.” Kenric glanced around the table. He definitely had everyone’s attention. “It’s for… I have a…a guest. Her name is Emily Ross.”
The last swallow of coffee made its way down Arran’s throat in one large gulp, choking him. Bloody hell, the looks on their faces alone were worth having her here. Had he become so predictable? Yes, he hadn’t had a lover in three centuries. But he didn’t realize he’d covered it so poorly.
“You have a guest?” Guerin, of course, was the first to find his tongue. “You were in the hospital last night. When did you bring someone here? You never approve of any outsider in the compound without prior notification—and she’s human,” he said, acknowledging the tray loaded down with food. “Why would you, master of our Enclave, take this kind of risk?”
Kenric uncrossed his ankles and squared his shoulders. “There were extenuating circumstances. I would not have taken the risk of bringing a human here unannounced without a very good reason. I haven’t survived all these years without a semblance of intelligence.”
Guerin returned Kenric’s hard glare. Kenric knew his friend and advisor had a legitimate beef about the risk he’d taken with security. But if he had to do it all over again, he would make the same decision. As his second-in-command, Guerin deserved a heads-up on all decisions that could affect the Enclave. Nevertheless, something, and everything, about Emily brought out his protective instincts. He’d be damned if anyone, best friend or not, questioned him.
This time, Markus broke the silence, his deep voice breaking the tension. “So what happened last night that earned us the privilege of a houseguest?”
Kenric swung his focus to the warrior who watched him with cold gray eyes from the opposite end of the table.
“I lost a lot of blood during the battle, and by the time I came around, I was in the ER in the grips of bloodlust. A nurse came in to check on my status, and I had to take the opportunity to feed.”
Kenric let out a deep breath as he dropped back into his seat. He would rather spend a week on the battlefield, fighting and bleeding till the brink of exhaustion and death, than tell his team of his lack of self-discipline with the woman.
The faces of the warriors around him remained stoic. They waited in silence.
“She collapsed.” Eyebrows lifted around the table. Dammit, he had always been the embodiment of self-control.
“I didn’t kill her, for God’s sake.” Kenric’s deep voice echoed across the expanse of stainless steel and tile. His voice was a bit harsher than he’d intended, but he needed to make sure they were clear as to what went down.
“There were already going to be too many questions regarding the John Doe who disappeared from the hospital. I couldn’t leave an unconscious nurse behind with bite marks on her neck. Besides…,” Kenric leaned back in his chair and surveyed the expressions of his team before finishing. “I thought she would be beneficial in cleaning up the situation with the hospital.”
Guerin placed his elbows on the table. “So, this nurse, how’s she handling the news that she was bitten by a vampire, and that those fangs belonged to you?” One long index finger pointed in Kenric’s direction. “Or have you yet to broach that subject?”
“I’ve told her. She doesn’t believe me. Thinks I’m crazy, or that I’m covering up some kind of military conspiracy experiment. I guess that’s easier to believe than the existence of vampires.” Kenric fought back the urge to smile as he recalled her stubborn defiance. He leaned forward and swiped a hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong, she was frightened when she remembered what happened last night, but she’s shown real courage. Quite impressive, actually.”
Guerin nodded, a slow grin spreading across his face, showing his teeth minus the fangs.
Kenric narrowed his eyes on Guerin. “What?”
“Umm…nothing. I just haven’t seen you ever talk about a woman so…fondly before. Kenric glared at Guerin. The silence screamed, shut the hell up.
“So…what’s your plan?” Guerin said, ignoring Kenric’s glare. “How would you like us to handle this?”
“Arran, Markus, you two can head out when you’re ready.” Their chairs scraped across the tiled floor as they left their seats. “Watch your backs.”
“Always,” Arran said, closing the door behind them.
“As for your question.” Kenric returned his attention to Guerin. “It’s business as usual. Hopefully, things will go well with Emily this evening, and I’ll bring her down to work with Elle. I think she’ll accept the truth and be willing to help. If not, there’s always the alternative.” His mind rebelled the moment the words left his lips. He hoped to hell he didn’t have to go that route.
“Emily.”
Hearing her name drop from Guerin’s lips snagged his attention.
“Her name. It’s nice,” Guerin said. “Is she as pretty as her name?”
Everything that made Kenric a master vampire roared to life. He stifled a growl. H
is jaw tightened with the effort to subdue his instinct to leap over the table and grab the other vampire’s throat. How dare he even consider her attractiveness?
Kenric took a deep breath and then cleared this throat. Tame your beast, St. James. She’s not yours, and she’s not going to be.
“Yeah, I suppose.” He rolled his shoulders. It did little to unknot the ball of tension riding him like a boulder—no, make that Mt. Everest—between his shoulder blades.
“You suppose…?” Guerin threw his words back with a laugh. “What does that mean? Is she pretty, or isn’t she?”
Kenric squirmed for a second in his seat and then abruptly left the table, not wanting to answer or deal with all the questions he knew Guerin was on the brink of firing.
“Michael, everything ready?” After a good-to-go nod from his aide, Kenric grabbed the tray off the counter and headed out. The heat of what had to be two sets of wide-eyed stares burned into his back.
“Whoa, captain. You’re not giving me any more intel on Emily than that?”
Kenric stopped.
“You’re gonna leave me hanging?” Guerin added, his tone conveying his delight in Kenric’s discomfort.
He turned around and gave Guerin his best dry and speculative stare before answering. “Looks like it.”
Kenric backed out of the kitchen and heaved a sigh of relief on the other side of the door. He didn’t want to think about how beautiful Emily was, much less chat about it with Mr. Charisma in there.
Over the years, he had known some vampires and humans who had claimed to have found their soul mates. This was supposedly more intense for vampires due to the transfer of blood and the chemical reactions that occurred with a compatible female on a cellular level. Due to a vampire’s unique physiology for utilizing and absorbing every element that comprised blood, it wasn’t too alien of a concept to believe a perfect mate could exist for a male or female vampire in every way. For a master, it was thought to be an even more profound experience due to the heightened psychic abilities of the male. A master and his mate bonded mentally and physically. The unusual reaction he’d had to Emily flickered through his mind, but Kenric shook his head. That couldn’t be what was happening here. He refused for that to be the case. The tight clench on his molars had his jaw aching. Christ, not now that Marguerite is back. As long as he kept his hands and other body parts to himself, it would not go any further than a mild attraction to a female who had served her purpose and then returned to her world. End of story.
Out of sight.
Out of mind.
On the compound’s third floor, which housed his private quarters, Kenric placed the key in the lock and gave it a quick turn. With an answering click of the pins, he opened the door with one hand while balancing the tray with the other. A blur of movement caught his eye. He ducked as his favorite crystal water goblet whizzed by his head. It struck the door frame to his left. The sharp sound of breaking glass echoed off the hardwood floor. Kenric grabbed for the orange juice carafe heading for the floor.
“What the hell?”
Chapter Seven
“You son of a bitch! I’m not your prisoner, huh? You lied to me. And to think, I thought you were delusional as hell with all the vampire nonsense but I was actually starting to believe you,” Emily said with a near-hysterical laugh. “I almost believed you when you said you weren’t planning to hurt me or keep me against my will. God, I’m such an idiot!” She flung her arms in the air.
He stood there, staring at her as if she was the one who was crazy. Oh, she’d show him crazy.
She darted for the nightstand. Emily hefted the pitcher off the table, spun, and hurled it straight at Kenric’s head.
Again, he ducked.
The pitcher crashed into the wall, spraying fragments and shards of crystal across the floor.
Damn! Missed again. God, could he be more infuriating?
She’d lost it.
Emily liked her calm exterior. It served her well, professionally and personally. But she had totally lost touch with her brain. This was pure, raw emotion. And so out of character for her. She abhorred violence, having lived through enough of it growing up and enduring too much of it in her last relationship.
Something inside her had snapped when she had come out of the shower, had found the bedroom door locked, and had realized she was trapped inside. All the painful memories she’d buried of her childhood and the years she’d spent with Jeff had exploded in her mind. Every bit of the fear and panic she’d experienced when her dad had locked her in the closet had swamped her. The heart-pounding rage when Jeff had sealed her in their bedroom as some form of idiotic punishment had flooded her veins.
As Dylan Thomas so penned, she would not go quietly into that good night. Hell, no. She would rage, and God help the man who tried to control or hurt her again.
With a low-pitched, frustrated scream, Emily sprinted toward the open bedroom door. Her foot crossed the threshold but a pair of strong arms grabbed her. They encircled her waist and lifted her feet from the floor.
“Let me go!” Emily beat the heels of her sneakers into Kenric’s shins. It didn’t have the desired effect. Like a tank with armored plating, he held her high.
Her back hit the mattress, knocking the air from her lungs. She sucked in a renewed mouthful of air as Kenric’s body covered hers. His large hands pinning her wrists to the bed.
“Emily, please…whatever I’ve done…” She didn’t want to hear his worthless excuses. He couldn’t possibly understand. She tossed her head from side to side in a useless attempt to escape his words. Her struggles only succeeded in causing him to press his chest and hips firmer into hers. “I’m sorry. For whatever pain I’ve caused you. I’m so sorry, Wildflower.” His dark and stormy voice rumbled over her like thunder mixed with lightning, quieting her. She lifted her lashes and found his full lips inches from her mouth. Their gazes locked. Was he going to kiss her? Oh shit. Did she want him to? She didn’t know what scared her more, him kissing her, or her for considering it.
God, what was happening?
She cleared her throat and went with the best haute-bitch voice she could muster. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re not going to kill me, so you’ve decided to molest me now?” She pushed at his chest. “Bastard! Get off of me.”
He lifted his hips and rolled to his side. “I was only trying to stop you, so I could explain.”
She scrambled from the bed and spun. “That wasn’t the only thing on your mind.”
“I…I’m sorry.” He groaned. “I don’t know where that came from.” He forced the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Damn. I swear my vocabulary does go beyond a litany of apologies.” Kenric dropped his face into his palms and took a deep breath. His voice sounded strained, as if he were exhausted from the effort. “This is not at all how I’d planned to approach our discussion. And no, you’re not a prisoner here.”
“Really, is that so?” She crossed her arms under her breasts. “The locked door. That was for my own good, then?”
He lifted his smoky gaze back to hers. “Yes, it was,” he said, his deep and rusty tone of voice returning. “My home has secure areas within and around the property. I cannot have visitors wandering around unescorted. I had hoped to arrive with your breakfast before you finished your shower.” His gaze left hers and then scanned the devastation that was his bedroom. “Looks like I was a little late.”
She’d taken her frustrations out on his bed and lamps.
“I don’t do well locked in anywhere.” She ran her fingers through her hair, avoiding his eyes. He didn’t need to know the details as to why, and she didn’t care to remain another second explaining. Emily started for the door. “My car, I assume, is still at the hospital’s garage?”
“We need to talk first.”
“Any more talking or discussions can take place in the car.” She threw him a glare over her shoulder. Kenric still sat on the bed. “I want to go home. Now.”
; He didn’t move.
She whipped back around, her emotional roller-coaster ride about to derail. “What do you want from me?”
“I need your help—and that requires you to believe what I’ve told you about myself.”
“That you’re a vampire?” She grasped her lower lip between her teeth.
“Yes. That I am a vampire.”
“Why is it so important to you that I believe this before I go home? What can I possibly do for you?”
The moment the question left her lips, she swore an almost animalistic hunger flashed in his eyes. Emily took a step back, but slammed on the brakes. No way was she going to allow him to see that he rattled her. She’d never seen a man look at her with such need. Her hand kneaded the edge of the T-shirt—his—that she was wearing. Her palm was sweaty. She looked away, trying to find a distraction. If not, she’d have to admit to herself that a small part of her wanted to escape, not because she was deathly afraid of him, but because if she stayed any longer, maybe she wouldn’t think he was so bad. He was fascinating in a crazy, psychotic kind of way. What did that say about her? That the freakier the guy was, the more interested she became?
Surveying the room, she took in all the fine items that furnished it. “From the look of things, you’re very well off, Kenric. I’m sure your money can buy you all the help you need.”
“No, it can’t,” he sighed. “If only it were that easy. Money cannot buy trust and loyalty.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kenric get off the bed. Her eyes followed his impressive build as he straightened to full height.
“It’ll buy silence for a period, but eventually, it’ll come back as a knife between your shoulder blades.”
The distant look on his face said he spoke from personal experience. He passed by her to close the door, then turned and motioned with his hand to the leather couch. “Please, sit down.”
She could feel it, the vacuum-like pull sucking her into this man’s dilemma. Even worse, in her heart, she realized that she was going to help him. God, how she wished she could turn off her need to rescue others. Like the time she’d rescued the limping puppy from the side of the road on her way home from work. Her mind rolled back to that rainy night. The little guy had been so wet and dirty, shaking with fear. His curled, wiry hair had been all knotted with mud. Jeff, her ex, had been livid when she’d come in the door with him. But she hadn’t cared. Emily would have taken whatever abuse he’d wanted to dole out on her if it meant giving that dog another chance. To give anyone the second chance they deserved, as she’d done for Jennie, one of the nurses she’d worked with last year. Jennie had showed up for her shift, smelling of alcohol and hung over from the night before—in no condition to work. Something like that should never happen. Not when a nurse is responsible for the safety of others. Jennie was young and possessed so much potential, but a bad breakup with her boyfriend had skewed her judgment that morning. Emily had sent her home, agreed to pull her shift, and to keep the incident to herself as long as Jennie promised to pull herself together.
