by Jessica Lee
“It doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “What matters is that I need you to understand how serious I am when I say you’re in danger. The only place where I know you’ll be safe is with me.”
“We’ve already had this discussion.” She brushed past him, heading to the kitchen, but Kenric was on her heels. Emily spun back around. He reached out and pulled her to him. She gasped. More from his sudden overwhelming presence than surprise.
“Wildflower, please.” Kenric released her and captured her cheeks between his palms. “Talk to me. Why do you keep running from me?”
She pushed against his chest. His scent and touch clouded her mind. “I’m not running.”
“What do you call it, then, when you keep moving in the opposite direction from the person who’s trying to protect you?”
“I call it taking of care myself. By myself.” A shiver worked its way over her upper arms. The compassionate look on his face proved too much to look at. She wheeled around, desperate to focus on something else. Anything else but him. Her ficus needed watering. She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.
“I respect that, but you need to understand you’re not dealing with a normal human situation here. There is a certain vampire…”
He grew silent. She glanced over her shoulder. The dark expression on his face quickened her pulse. She turned and took a step toward him, compelled to offer comfort, but stopped. He didn’t need her help. She needed to let him go.
He cleared his throat and started again. “She is a very ancient vampire. One who is determined to destroy anyone I care for. And right now, her focus is you.” He moved closer. The warmth of his presence enveloped her.
“She. You said she.” Emily backpedaled until she bumped into the solid wall of the den.
“Yes.” He nodded. “My creator. Three hundred years ago, a vampire named Marguerite Devonshire took my life and turned me against my will.”
“You never wanted this?”
A flash of red ignited and swirled in his eyes. He lowered his lashes, as if he didn’t want her to see the rage, but she knew it seethed there.
“No.” His voiced deepened, becoming something close to a growl of an answer. “I never wanted this. Nevertheless, it is what I am.” He lifted his lids, the blue of his eyes once again as clear as a summer’s sky. His roughened fingertips slid the length of her cheek and jaw before tipping her chin. “She’s found me and is more powerful than ever. Marguerite has gained the ability to visit me in my dreams.” He groaned, tossed his head back as if in pain, then slowly rocked his head forward, capturing her gaze. “She’s seen you. Inside my head, she’s seen your face. Knows you’re important to me.” He bared his teeth, chewing out the next few words. “She will kill you if she gets the chance.”
He made it impossible to maintain her convictions when he got this close. The room tilted on its axis. Her head spun.
She would not do this: succumb to the desire to let him rescue her.
Not with a man this powerful and dominating. He’d lock her in a cage. And she couldn’t handle that.
Maybe, if she went far enough away, got the heck out of town, his presence wouldn’t affect her so, and all this—these feelings—would diminish. She slipped from his grasp, but he caught her hand. “Let me go!”
“What are you doing?” He tried to pull her back into his embrace. “Did you not hear anything I just said?”
“I have to leave.” Emily tugged at his grip. “If I get away from you, she’ll leave me alone. You won’t have to worry about protecting me.” She clutched his bicep and met his gaze, searching for an inkling of understanding. “Please, just let me—You have to let me go.” Her voice cracked.
His expression shifted from shock to anger. He tugged her to him and proceeded to back her up against the wall. Emily squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t look at him, maybe she could stay strong. But damn, with her eyes closed, his cinnamon and pine scent, along with the hard feel of his body, drove her to the edge of the cliff known as restraint.
“Look at me,” he growled.
She didn’t want to see.
“Look. At. Me.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. A passion-filled gaze crashed into hers, sending a wave of weakness to her legs.
“You want to leave? Is that really what you want?”
She parted her lips, forced a weak “yes,” and dropped her gaze.
“Really?”
“Yes. Damn you!” She pushed and squirmed without success against the unmovable mountain holding her. “What exactly do you drink, blood laced with cement?”
“Why?”
“Why, what?” she snapped.
“Why do want away from me so badly?”
“Because I have to.”
“Not good enough. Why?”
Why wouldn’t he just shut up and leave her alone?
“Will you just let it go? Please!” She shimmied against him again. He didn’t budge. Her sensitized nipples hardened against the hard, leather-clad wall of his chest.
“Not until you give me a good-enough answer.”
Emily sucked in two panic-filled gulps of air and blurted out the words that refused to stay buried. “Because I want you too damn much, and it scares the shit out of me!”
His body stilled. Silence filled the room, except for the ragged breaths leaving her lungs. The hardened ridge pressed against her hips told her he wanted her, too.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, yet the tingling heat lifting the hairs on her arms let her know his gaze hadn’t moved. His warm palms rode up into her hair as he tilted her face to his. Her breath hitched. So much pain and desire.
“Wildflower.” His hand drifted to her chin where his thumb traced her lower lip. “Believe me when I say, I would die before I brought you harm.” He closed the distance between their lips but stopped a breath away, as if asking permission.
She licked her lips and pulled the lower one in, holding it with her teeth. She didn’t know what else to do with him so close. She would not kiss him. That would be a terrible mistake.
Wouldn’t it?
Her jaw trembled under the tension. Hell, make that her whole body. Unable to resist, she buried her hands in the silkiness of his dark waves. She moaned. Damn. He had to be the dark angel of temptation, because she didn’t want to live another second, another breath, without tasting him.
Grasping two handfuls of hair, she pulled him in to her starved mouth. The heat of his kiss shot straight to her core, warming and swelling her with desire. She lapped at the sweetened spice of his mouth. The short overnight growth of his beard scraped at her face. Every sensation against her flesh heightened her awareness. Her need for him.
A growl vibrated from the back of his throat. Their tongues thrust in rhythm to the rocking of their hips. Getting him inside her possessed her. This man took her to a place where she didn’t recognize herself anymore.
Emily cried out and broke away from him. “What the hell am I doing? I can’t do this.”
She ran the short distance to her bedroom. Tears swelled and threatened to spill. Blindly, she grabbed her travel bag from under the bed and tossed it onto the mattress. She pulled random shirts and pants from her closet and tossed them into her weathered blue carry-all. Out of the corner of her eye, a dark outline filled her doorway.
Kenric watched as Emily jammed her clothes into her satchel. “You’re running again.” She shot him a drop-dead look but continued to pack without breaking her stride. “I know you believe me when I say I would never harm you. I can feel it. So what is it? Why are you jumping like a scared rabbit?”
Her hands stilled. She turned from the bed, her cheeks a rosy pink, her auburn curls a chaotic mass around her face.
She’d never looked more beautiful. Her gaze met his, swimming in a pool of unshed tears. A sharp pain tore through his chest. He gripped the door frame to keep from closing the distance between them, pulling her into his arms, and not letting go.
He tightened his hold on the wood, her words stinging like a strike across his face.
“You overwhelm me. Everything about you. Your power. The things you can do to a human being.” Emily’s head dropped, and she absently worked to fold a shirt.
His didn’t think his heart would withstand another moment of seeing her in so much pain. Pain that he had caused.
“It’s the way I feel when I’m around you. It’s like I’m not in control of myself.” Her head popped up, and her expression held a grimace. “I hate it. I hate not being in control. I’ve been hurt too many times when I’ve let someone in like that.”
Enough. He couldn’t stand there and watch the anger and frustration rack her body. Crossing the room in three strides, he gripped her shoulders and turned her to him. His hands roamed up into her hair and around to her cheeks. Her pain hadn’t begun when he’d entered her life. Someone else had hurt this beautiful woman. And they would pay.
“Who hurt you like this?”
“Let it go.” The tears crested and fell one by one like hot rain onto his fingertips. Her body shook under his palms. “Let me go. It would be better for both of us. Without me here, she would have no reason to hurt me or you.”
“It wouldn’t work.”
“Why not?” Emily tossed her head and sniffled. “Why would she look for me if I was out of your life?”
“It wouldn’t work, because I would have to stop caring about you.” He stroked her hair and traced her full bottom lip with his index finger. “And that is something I don’t believe I’ll be able to do.”
Her sudden inhale breezed across his fingertip and had his cock pulsing. But taking her pain away took priority.
“Kenric, you’re tearing my heart in two and making it hard to walk away.” Another tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
“Then don’t go,” he whispered. “I tell you what. If you’ll stay, I’ll back off on trying to get you to come with me. Give you some room to think.” Relief washed over her in a visible wave, releasing the tension in her body. “But…” She sniffed and straightened her back.
“Of course there’s a condition. Here it comes…”
Kenric lifted the corner of his mouth at the thick dose of sarcasm. Here was the Emily he knew.
“I stay here.”
“What?” Emily backed up two steps, bumping against the bed frame.
“You won’t come with me, then I have to stay here. On the couch, of course.” He glanced toward the room door.
“Oh my God.” She shook her head. “You make me dizzy, Kenric St. James.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you would.” Emily pivoted, facing the mound of clothes half in and half out her suitcase. “Fine,” she said, sighing. “But stay out of my way.”
…
Emily didn’t think one evening could crawl by any slower. But Kenric had kept his word and had stayed out of her way. Completely nonintrusive like he’d promised. That was half the problem. He’d stayed quiet, sitting in a chair in the corner of her living room, watching her. He didn’t eat. Didn’t drink. And it was driving her bonkers. Every so often he’d case the place, looking for anything out of the ordinary, and then check in with the Enclave. It was like having a giant watchdog caged in the room, waiting for the perfect opportunity to bite something. Or somebody.
She rolled over and tried to sleep for what felt like the hundredth time. Knowing he was on the other side of the door, not sleeping, uncomfortable, protecting her, felt so wrong. But he did normally sleep during the day, so that didn’t make her a complete bitch. Emily flopped to her back, eyes wide. She should have never taken that sleeping pill when she’d come home from work.
Kicking off the covers, she slung her legs over the side of the bed. If he was going to stay all day, he might as well have the guest room and not the couch.
Emily headed across the hall to the other bedroom and went to the windows. She pulled the blinds and loosened the heavy drapes for added UV protection. The bed had clean sheets already, so in preparation for morning, she turned back the comforter and fluffed the pillows.
“Everything okay?”
“Just getting your room ready,” she said and turned toward Kenric.
“My room?” One dark brow lifted.
“If you’re going to spend the night, you might as well have something more comfortable and safe at sunrise.” She jutted a thumb at the covered windows. “I thought the confined room would keep the sun out better.”
“Thank you.” He nodded. “With everything I’ve put you through, that was very thoughtful.”
“You’re welcome.” She cleared her throat and darted under the arm he’d placed up on the door jam. “I’m… I’m going back to bed. Make yourself at home.” Emily slipped through her bedroom door, not waiting for a reply. She leaned her back against the wood. He kept her so mixed up. One minute he was the dominating lethal creature of the night that every instinct cried out for her to leave alone, then the next he was a gentle tortured soul that screamed for her to hold him and take away his pain. She blew out a puff of air, lifting the fall of hair from her brow. Too much to figure out in one night. Her temples throbbed. She rubbed the spot beside her right eye and made her way back to bed. Emily plopped onto the mattress and eased under her covers. Maybe answers to her dilemma would rise with the sun while he was out of sight. Good luck with out of mind.
…
“Get out!” A loud bang followed the shout, yanking Emily awake and from her bed. Her heart rate jackhammered. Soft light peeked through her blinds, littering just enough daylight across her floor to keep her from breaking her neck as she scrambled for her bedroom door. Oh God, was the vampire bitch in her house?
Emily flung her door wide and searched the shadows of the hall and room beyond. Nothing.
“Nooo…”
The sound came from the other side of the guest room door: Kenric. Gently she placed her palm to the door and breathed deep.
“Kenric,” she called out. Emily pressed in close, listening. A low growl rumbled through the wood. A lump formed in her throat. What was going on in there?
“Get off me.” His words came out as if strangled from his throat. Oh shit, he’s in trouble.
Emily fisted the doorknob, twisted, and pushed inside. The sight that greeted her sent her veins into a deep freeze. Kenric lay nude, except for a pair of black boxer-briefs, his arms over his head, fists gripping the headboard. His comforter had been kicked to the floor, and the bedside lamp had crashed to the floor beside the mound of cotton.
Dear God. Every vein along his forearms and his neck was distended. His jaw clenched as if he were in agony.
“Kenric!” Emily darted to his bedside. Sweat covered his body in a fine sheen. No response. He flung his head from side to side. “God, Kenric,” she called out. “Wake up!”
A loud groan tore from his throat, and his body arched, but it was as if his wrists and ankles were chained to the bed. His spine collapsed to the mattress and his head flung back. Emily kneeled on the bed, leaned in, and with a trembling hand, reached out and brushed the hair from his eyes.
“Kenric?” She touched his cheek. So cold. “Can you hear me?” He didn’t move. “Kenric!” Louder this time. Still nothing. He didn’t budge. That’s when it dawned on her: nothing moved. He wasn’t breathing. “Oh, God! Oh, God!”
Emily grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard. “Kenric! It’s Emily. Open your eyes!” His eyelids sprang open.
“Oh, thank God…”
His lips curled back over long fangs with a hiss, and she jumped.
“Fuck with me all you want, Marguerite,” he said, his voice hoarse while staring into the emptiness of the room. “Kill me over and over, if you wish. But you can’t have her, even if your gut is filled with Goran’s blood.”
What the hell? Her? Is he talk
ing about me? Emily glanced around the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She dropped her gaze back to Kenric. He’d mentioned Marguerite had found a way to get inside his head, but this was unlike any dream or sleepwalking episode she’d ever witnessed.
“I knew you’d never deny its possession.” Kenric sneered, then flinched, his head darting from side to side. “I’d rather starve, he spat.
What was she doing to him? “Kenric!” Emily cried again. She had to get him awake. Had to get him away from her. The look on his face. The strain in his body. Marguerite was torturing him, and the sight of it was like a knife through Emily’s heart. She bent over and clasped his cheeks, forcing his face in her direction. “Kenric, it’s Emily.” His eyes were glazed, pupils dilated, staring at some point beyond her. “You have to hear me. Come back to me.” Her voice choked. “She’s not here. Marguerite is in your head.” Emily gritted her teeth then cried out, “Let him go!” She had no idea if the woman could even hear her, but she had to try.
She shuffled closer, placing them face to face. “Kenric!” His fangs were extended, touching his bottom lip. The sight of the sharp points should have freaked her out, but at that point, all she could see was the man. A man in pain. The man who had placed her life before his own.
“Emily?” he mumbled, and his brow wrinkled.
Her heart raced. “Yes, yes. It’s me.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “Look at me. Focus on me.”
“Get out of here!” He shook his head as if trying to break her hold and back away.
“Kenric,” Emily said, her tone dropping to an, I’m-a-woman-who-won’t-be-moved level. “Focus on me. Get her out of your head.”
His eyelids slammed shut, then he blinked, and his gaze bore into hers. Seeing her for the first time. “I said get out of here,” he growled. “I can’t…I can’t promise you I’m in control.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Leave me.” His attention shifted to something in the distance. “Need you,” he began, the words fighting for birth from his throat. “Need you safe.”
“Oh, hell no!” Like she could live with herself if she walked out that door. The very thought had her gasping for air. His head slipped from her grasp, and his eyelids fluttered. His eyes rolled back in their sockets. The bed jerked and his body stiffened. “Kenric?” Emily lunged forward, nearly on top of him. “Kenric,” she shouted and grabbed his head, rocking his face forward. “Don’t you die on me,” she uttered, her voice fierce. “You put me in the middle of this, and I need you to stay with me. You hear me?” she asked, her lips next to his. “Come back to me.”
