STEP (The Senses)

by Paterson, Cindy

  “No matter what it was, it remains the same. You’re a Wraith. I’m a Senses. I can’t live permanently in your realm and you can’t in mine.” Wraiths were spirits after all, and spending more than a few hours at a time in the human world drained their powers.

  “We can make it work.” He argued then sighed. “I didn’t mean . . . what I said. I was angry.” Maybe he did or didn’t. The result was the same.

  He reached for her and she should have run, but the look in his magnetic eyes had her reliving the tender moments they’d spent together. “Come back with me.” He stroked the side of her throat with the tip of his finger. Shivers coursed down her spine at his gentle touch. She might not love Edan, but he knew how to raise her heart rate.

  “I want to be with you,” Edan whispered as he swept his finger over her quivering lips.

  “Delara, where are you?”

  She jolted back as Jedrik’s voice came tearing through her mind.

  “Need you at Liam’s club. ASAP.”

  “I . . . I have to go.” Delara stepped from the cocoon of his body heat. “Yeah, coming.”

  “Well hurry up, sassy. I get antsy all alone with these bloodsucking Neanderthals and bug-people.”

  “Will you think about it?” Edan asked before she turned away.

  “Pronto. Like yesterday, Delar.”

  Could she be with him again? Not like she was with before, but really “with” him. Could she let go of Waleron? Stop hoping he’d give up the pills and come back to her?

  “I . . . Edan, I have to go.”

  He gave a single curt nod and swiveled on the barstool. He grabbed the beer from the guy next to him and chugged it back.

  “Delara?”

  “On my way. I’m five minutes away.”

  “Yeah, well, make it two.”

  Chapter 12

  Abby didn’t know how it happened so fast, one second she was wrapped in some stranger’s arms ready to suck him dry and the next the guy was on the floor unconscious and Jedrik was dragging her through the crowd towards the back of the club.

  “Jedrik. Jedrik. Stop.” She lost her shoe and stumbled.

  “Just in the nick of time, eh, sugar?” Jedrik shouted over the music as he continued to propel her to the back doors.

  Shoe lost, she limped after him as his steel grip towed her after him. Back door? He was taking her out of here? “Stop. Jedrik, stop, damn it. It can’t happen like this. It’s too late. I’m too far gone.”

  Jedrik ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken. He pressed through a crowd of punks who were eyeing every girl’s ass on the dance floor then pushed her up against the wall in the corridor that led to the back exit.

  “Have you tasted blood since that ‘just a drop’?” Jedrik asked, his palms on the wall on either side of her head. “Have you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then it’s not too late.” His head jerked to the left and his eyes looked down the dimly light corridor towards the bar.

  Abby followed his vision and her heart nearly went into B-fib. Everything inside her went haywire—pulse, breath, stomach. Oh, Christ it was him. She’d recognize him anywhere with his overwhelmingly tall stature, broad shoulders and that walk—confident strides with that get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way appearance.

  Her head shook back and forth. “No. No. I told you I didn’t want him to know.” She tried to slide under Jedrik’s caged arms, but he grabbed her elbow and held her in place. “Why? Why did you have to tell him?”

  “He deserves to know, Abby. And don’t think it was all ice cream and popsicles writing that email.”

  “You emailed him?” Oh God, Damien must have been livid.

  She picked her jaw up off the floor as her unborn child’s father approached, eyes blazing into hers as if he could light her on fire.

  “Delara. Incoming. One minute,” Jedrik said to Damien. “I’ll stay to make sure she’s safe. You get Abby out of here. And listen, don’t friggin’ come back until she’s completely through it. It could take months, man. Maybe longer. I stocked the cottage for six months and it’s seriously secluded. You have the directions, right?”

  Damien gave a curt nod.

  “Okay, yeah, well don’t leave her alone for a second and secure her, for God sake. Balen said it’s worse at night. He also said she will say or do anything in order to get what she wants. And you know as well as I what that is.”

  Damien gave a single nod and hooked his arm around her waist.

  “Oh, one more thing, guess I can’t call you Virgin King any longer,” Jedrik said, then laughed. At Damien’s expression, the laugh ended abruptly. He gave Abby a wink. “Good luck, sugar.”

  Jedrik ran back into the crowd and was lost to her sight within seconds. She dared herself to glance up at Damien then chickened out, instead opting for staring at his chest. It was exactly as she remembered, broad and muscular, smooth hills and valleys that ran into one another, making up what was the hottest bod she’d ever encountered. She could remember her hands and lips tasting every inch of those hills and—

  “Stay next to me. No matter what happens, don’t be a sissy and freak out. Got it?” Damien said in that deep, husky voice distinguishable by his slight Irish accent.

  “Yeah. But where—”

  “Not now, Abb.” He was the only one besides her late mother who called her that. “Head low. If they don’t recognize you, we have a golden horseshoe up our asses.”

  He led her down the corridor towards the exit, his arm possessively around her waist and his stride long and confident. The bouncers parted, one even held the door open for them, that was, until he noticed her missing shoe.

  “Miss? You’re missing your . . . is that you, Abby?”

  Damien didn’t hesitate as he slammed his fist into the guy’s face, landing him on his ass outside the door. The other guy, who was closest to her, attempted to grab her arm, but Damien was quicker, giving a sharp uppercut beneath the guy’s chin, then a swift kick to his chest, sending him into the wall.

  She heard the sharp crack of his head as it crashed into the brick. The poor guy crumpled to the floor, a dribble of blood sliding down through his short spiked hair to drip onto the floor.

  The draw was too near and definitely too delectable to resist as she fell to her knees beside the bouncer and the blood.

  The thirst. She had to have it. She’d die without—

  “Oh no, you don’t.” Damien dragged her back up against him then hauled ass out the back door.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Into hell,” Damien replied without faltering a step.

  ****

  “Status,” Delara asked Jedrik as she sauntered into the club. They knew her pretty well and the bouncers allowed her to bypass the line, even graciously held the door open for her.

  “Damien just hightailed out the back with that witch Abby.”

  “What!” Delara shouted.

  “Couldn’t tell you the plan, just in case you dropped your mind shields during your thralls of passion with the bloodsucker.”

  “Oh screw off, Arrow.”

  “No can do, you’re stuck with me. Liam doesn’t know Abby has vamoosed, but he will soon, and I need you to distract him to give them a chance to get away. Up for it, Sassy?”

  “Arrow, you stupid idiot. What the devil are you doing? Waleron will have your head. You should have called him to deal with this.” She picked up her pace, heading directly to the permanently reserved table she knew all too well.

  Had Jedrik lost his freakin’ head? Screwing with Liam was like calling an all-out war between the two kinds. Waleron was going to blow his top and then some.

  “She drank his blood, Sass. And she’s pregnant. It’s Damien’s.”

  Speechless and floored, Delara bumped into what had to be a Long Neck with the reek of garbage emanating from his skin. She pushed him aside ignoring his hiss and the quick sweep of his long filthy fingernails across her arm. She’d deal with hi
m later. “Piss off,” she shot over her shoulder and kept walking towards Liam. He was shaking hands with some woman who had her back to her and then the stranger slipped into the crowd. She attempted to track the stranger’s scent, but with so many people in the club, it was impossible to tell who or what Liam had been meeting with.

  She could tell Liam was getting anxious, wondering where his Abby had disappeared to by the way his eyes scanned the club and his unusually tense stance.

  “Damn it, Arrow. What am I supposed to do?”

  “Damien just needs a few to get her out of town. Keep him . . . busy.”

  “Christ, he will know this is our doing.”

  Liam saw her approach and gave a nod in acknowledgement. Oh, that was so not good. A smile would be better. She slowed her pace and put a subtle swing in her hips, Liam appreciated a sexy woman and since she didn’t have time to change into something more . . . well, feminine she’d have to take it up a notch.

  “At the bar. Far right,” Jedrik said.

  Delara shifted her gaze and saw Jedrik with his back to her, leaning casually forward as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was actually flirting with the petite redhead beside him. Dog.

  “Blood,” Delara said, smiling while reaching out both hands. He amiably took them and kissed the back of each.

  He didn’t return the smile, nor did he look at her as his eyes continued to scan the club. Oh shit, this was going to be more difficult than she thought.

  No use fighting it. “You look agitated. Something wrong, Blood?” “He’s going to put out an alert. Can’t delay him.”

  “You work fast. I suspected another few days. I noticed she was being watched, but I never suspected you’d take her from my own club.” Oh great, he knew. “However, she was rather thirsty tonight. Guess you had no choice. It was probably for the best. I assume you will attempt detox?” Liam’s cell rang and he quickly answered it.

  “He knows. Why the hell did you risk taking her right from under his nose?” Delara asked.

  “It wasn’t the plan. Liam expected her tonight, if she didn’t show up he’d know something was going down. We were planning to whisk her away after she left the club, but she tried to bite some guy’s neck and all plans went to shit.”

  Liam didn’t say a word to the caller, merely listened. She saw the sudden tightening of his jaw, and his hands curled into fists. Pissed. But when she looked at his face it . . . there was no anger. Strange. His body was ready to erupt into a furious volcano and yet his expression was . . . she couldn't put her finger on it. Even as she breathed in his scent, she could sense no anger. Did he not care that they had taken Abby?

  He finished his call and raised his brows, waiting for her to respond to his question.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Pathetic, she thought.

  “Of course you do.” He leaned forward, his eyes never once leaving hers as his arm went around her waist and jerked her close. His breath wafted across her throat, and cold shivers rose at the subtle sexual innuendo. As his mouth drew closer she anticipated his kiss, instead he whispered in her ear. “My dear Abigail was pregnant. Did you know that?” His arm tightened. “No matter. The Transition would’ve killed her in such a state, and we certainly couldn’t have that. I need her alive.” He lowered his voice even further, scarcely audible. “You were once pregnant yourself, weren’t you Delara?”

  Delara couldn’t control her sudden jolt and gasp. She wanted to be sick, her stomach violently purging at the mere mention of her secret. How the hell did he know that? No one knew she’d been pregnant. No one. Not even Jedrik.

  “A miscarriage at eight months, I understand.” He tsked. “A shame. Waleron’s?”

  “None of your fuckin’ goddamn business.”

  “Sass, you okay?”

  “Was it a boy or girl?”

  She slapped him so hard, he staggered back a step. His smile faded and he rubbed his cheek, a murderous glare in his eyes. “Guess I deserved that.” He nodded towards the bar. “Tell Boy Wonder to keep his distance.”

  Delara saw Jedrik making his way towards them. Shit, starting a fight in Liam’s club would be suicide. “Back off, Arrow. I’ll handle this.”

  “Sass, what the hell?”

  “I said leave it. He won’t hurt me. Get out of here. I’ll be along shortly.”

  “Sass, I don’t think—”

  “Please.” She heard him sigh and knew he’d listen.

  “Wouldn’t Waleron like to know he sired a child? Well a . . . dead one, but still.”

  “You goddamn bastard,” Delara shot back, fury enveloping her entire body. The beer bottle on the table began to tremble, and before long her rage would erupt a domino effect of shattered glass.

  “Until Abby has gone through detox, I want you.”

  “That isn’t possible,” Delara said. “You can’t have me any longer.”

  “Oh, but it is. And I can. You’ve hidden many things from Waleron, including the pregnancy. You can hide this too.”

  Months of hell, running, then when she couldn’t run any longer—hiding and then hurting. “And if I say screw you?”

  He hesitated as if making certain he had her full attention. “Then I will kill your child,” Liam said, his expression waiting for her reaction.

  She balked with confusion. Her child was already dead. Born dead. What the hell was he talking about?

  “I see your perplexity. To be expected, of course. It was a long time ago.” He shrugged. “You see you don’t know if I’m lying and yet, as a mother, you can’t take the chance that I’m not.” His fingers bit into her waist. “But, my love, I will have Abby. And if you don’t find a way to bring her to me alive after detox—then I will kill your child.”

  No. No, he was lying. She’d seen her stillborn child. They had shown her the body. “You’re lying.”

  “Perhaps.” His hand slid up her arm and caressed the back of her neck. She went to pull away, but his grip tightened. “How did I know about your pregnancy? How did I know you had your child premature?”

  She would’ve collapsed if it wasn’t for his arm around her waist and him pulling her up against him. His lips tasted the tip of her ear, breath sweeping over her skin. “Tell your friends to keep Abby alive and I will keep your child alive.”

  The bile rose in her throat and she swallowed several times. No. God, please no. Please, this would destroy Waleron. Lies. She felt like a piece of glass breaking into tiny fragments never to be glued back together again.

  “I’m curious as to how long before I’ll see Waleron at my door?” He stroked his finger down her arm. “How long before he rescues his damsel? How long before he discovers the truth?”

  ****

  Damien threw open the car door of the Audi. “In,” he said, blocking her path towards the bouncers and the blood. The chick was a ravenous vampire already, and she hadn’t even turned yet. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

  Hell pretty much summed it up.

  He watched her long legs swing into the car and cursed beneath his breath. That was what had got him into this mess in the first place. His memory replayed every second he’d had those legs wrapped around his body. The succulent skin his hands caressed and his lips suckled for hours.

  He slammed the door.

  How was he supposed to live with this chick with those memories plaguing his thoughts?

  He fished the keys out of his pocket and jumped in the other side, slamming the door. He revved the engine as if it were an Indy race and shoved it into gear. Without daring to glance at the woman beside him, he peeled out of the back alley.

  He’d rather be in the arms of Hades than stuck in this car with a chick he’d foolishly slept with. It was like being trapped in an excessively small coffin nailed shut with a woman—his worst nightmare—who wanted to taste his blood.

  The Abby he’d met that day in the grocery store was undistinguishable now. He glanced to the side and saw her pale c
omplexion and dark circles under her eyes. That engaging smile that disarmed him had vanished and its place were deep frown lines of worry.

  It was baffling how attracted he’d been to her, since he rarely paid attention to women. He couldn’t say what it was or why he decided to spend twenty-four hours locked between her legs. Delicious though it was, it had been a grave mistake, one he was now paying for.

  He swore they’d used condoms the numerous times they’d had sex, but the alcohol they’d consumed through the night and into the next day had perhaps fogged his memory ever so slightly. Okay, a lot. Had it been that time in the shower? Or on the bathroom counter? All he could remember was the urgency to sink himself between her thighs again and again.

  Irresistible. Passionate. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He knew better than to screw a witch, one who was young and unbelievably sexy.

  Jedrik’s e-mail had sent him into a quiet shock, then of course a cold fury simmering for the flight back to Toronto, only to emerge when he met Jedrik at Keir’s and got the full lowdown on Abby’s situation. Why the bloody hell would she taste a vamp’s blood? For God sake, was she brainless?

  His impression of her was that she was stubborn, intelligent and spirited. And witty, fun and gregarious. Bold to pick him up in the grocery store of all places. Unexpected and refreshing, when most women looked at him and ran in the opposite direction. His scowl and overbearing persona kept them at a distance—advantageous, in his opinion. Women spelled trouble, case in point the situation he was in now.

  What had he been thinking when he agreed to detox her? Shit, they didn’t even know if it would work. Balen had been the only one to ever fight off the calling of the vampire blood, and it had taken him two bloody years.

  Abby was what? Twentysomething, if that. And don’t forget pregnant with your child, he thought for the zillionth time. He suspected she’d lose it within a month if she continued to crave blood.

  One foolish night. That was what too much Captain Morgan could do to a guy.

  He ran his hand through his short raven strands, then pounded the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.