Beneath Roark’s frown, Tammy could see a smile forming. For all the banter that went between these two men, she got the feeling that they actually liked each other.
Roark rose and moved around the bed to slide open the nightstand drawer. When he turned, he held a key in his hand. Without a word, he reached for her wrists and released her.
Tammy rubbed her wrists, but already the soreness, redness that had circled them was beginning to dissipate. The healing process of a lycanthrope was remarkable. Or was it the vampire powers that flowed through her veins? She still couldn’t believe such creatures existed and that she was one—or was she a half-breed—Lamia?
Roark extended her his hand. “You are remarkable, baby. Donne was correct. You did great.”
Her brows pulled together. “You can read minds too?”
“It is a gift of our people. It aids us when we are in wolf form. You should have the ability as well.” He helped her off the bed guiding her to the rug before the fireplace. It was soft beneath her feet. “Sit, I’ll start a fire.” As he began to stack kindling in the hearth, he continued. “The part of you that is vampire can adapt your body to any temperature, but I thought you’d like a fire.”
His consideration touched her. Even if she had all these different abilities, something familiar was appreciated. The scent of sulfur filled the air as he struck a match. In minutes a fire blazed. The snap and crackle of the popping flames reminded her of her childhood, snuggled close to her father as he read to her. It seemed so long ago. The thought saddened her. Life as she’d known it was gone. What was she going to do? How would she live? Exactly what abilities did she possess? She needed to learn more about her situation if she were to survive.
The rattling of dishes pulled her out of her stupor. As Roark uncovered the plates, the scent of charbroiled steaks rose. Her stomach growled. He must have heard it because he glanced at her and smiled. Holding a fork and steak knife in his hands, she watched him slice the blood-rare meat into bite-sizes.
Handsome. Muscles rippled beneath his skin. She had never seen a man with such a broad chest, powerful arms—and an ass that any woman would appreciate. A fluttering low in her belly made her look away. She tried to concentrate on something other than running her hands all over his body.
“Here.” He handed her a red satin robe. The one he slipped over his shoulders was black, but just as silky. “I think our host thought it might curb our desire, to be covered up.” He ran his fingers through her hair. The heat in his eyes made the flip-flop in her stomach turn into an ache.
“I don’t think it’s working,” she admitted, staring at the rising bulge beneath his robe. He laughed. The throaty sound whispered across her skin straight to her pussy. “Maybe we should eat.” The tingle made her rub her ass against the fur beneath her. Visions of him kneeling before her, the salty taste of his cock upon her tongue, made her groan.
“Baby, don’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to take you right here—right now.” There was a gravelly tone to his voice that tugged on her strings of desire. His nostrils flared and she knew he scented her arousal, because she could smell his musky aroma. The apex of her thighs grew moist. Each step he took toward her made her pulse leap. When he bent his head to press a kiss over each eyelid, she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her lips. Gently he uncoiled her arms. His mouth teased across hers. “You need to eat something.”
Disappointment clenched her chest as he released her and walked back to the table. Picking up the tray, he returned, setting it on the floor as he sat beside her. He stabbed a piece of meat with a fork. His eyes simmered with heat as he placed the offering to her lips. She accepted the bite, her eyelashes sweeping the top of her cheeks as she savored the steak.
“Mmmm… That’s delicious.” She chewed as he took a bite.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to consume food.” He must have realized her confusion because he began to explain. “Vampires only eat food to appear human. They have to purge it from their system afterwards or they become ill.”
Roark slid his hand beneath her hair, cupping the nape of her head to pull her to his lips. The kiss was chaste. He smiled as if discovering she was more lycanthrope than vampire pleased him. He offered her another bite before he asked, “Are you married? Have children?” Even though his voice was unmoving, she saw a flicker of unease flash across his eyes.
“No children, no family, no man in my life—actually no life. I just moved here from Boise, Idaho about three months ago. I’m an underwriter for a mortgage company.” For some reason that sounded pitiful to Tammy. There wasn’t an interesting thing about her or her life, except for the fact that she went from a workaholic to a Lamia within what—two days? Two days if she counted Monday night and it was now Wednesday morning. Her tired body seemed to know it was time for bed. “What about you?”
“Me?” He offered her his glass of wine and she took a sip. “As Donne is the leader of the vampires in the metropolitan areas of Phoenix and Tucson, I lead the lycanthropes in Northern Arizona.”
“So you really are a prince or king?” she asked, handing him back the crystal.
His eyes twinkled as his smile deepened. “I guess you could call me that. Now you are my queen.” He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed. If she didn’t know better, she’d say his expression was filled with pride.
How could that be? She was a half-breed and a dangerous one at that. They barely knew each other.
“When the heat is over and your control is more manageable, things will change.” Was he trying to convince her or himself?
“What if it doesn’t? What if I end up killing someone?” Just the thought made her nauseated. Acid swirled in her stomach. “I can’t go back to my old life. Marcellus’s people hate me—they fear me. What makes you think your people will be any different?”
His slight hesitance was all the confirmation she needed.
She was screwed.
He set the wine glass down and drew her into his embrace. “I don’t have all the answers. Honey, we don’t even know what your abilities or limitations are, but I can promise you I will be there for you, Donne as well.”
“I’m scared.” It was the second time tonight she’d openly admitted her fear. She buried her face into the warmth of his chest. His arms held comfort and assurance, but for how long? If he had to make a choice between her and his people she had no doubt what his decision would be. He was their leader. She was a mistake, a freak of nature even amongst the vampires and lycanthrope.
He circled her waist and pulled her upon his lap, rocking her like a child. “I never want to hear you refer to yourself as a freak.”
“But isn’t that what I am? Lamia? A black widow?” she insisted.
Instead of responding, he shifted her in his arms so that he could capture her lips. Roark’s kiss held the bittersweet promise of a future. In his embrace she felt like anything was possible. Yet, was she fooling herself? Tammy didn’t want to think about it any longer. All she wanted was to snuggle closer and feel the stroke of his tongue against hers, the sensual pressure of his mouth as he deepened the caress and made her forget.
Marcellus had chosen to forgo sleeping beside Tamanen during the day. The previous night had ended badly and he didn’t want her sensing his anxiety. Hell. This evening’s rising had not gone any better. Tension crept across his shoulders as he watched his people filter from the conference room located in the left-wing of his home. A select few dared to challenge his decision to take Tamanen as a mate. Prejudice played a huge part. It seemed no one wanted to see the line between lycanthrope and vampire blurred, while others feared the legend which painted her as a monster.
Titan had been the most vocal, stating Marcellus was letting his dick speak for him. A Lamia’s sensuality was hypnotic, bewitching the strongest of men—even a powerful leader. Beneath a placate expression, Marcellus had held onto his fury—barely.
When the room was almost e
mpty he laid his palms on the oak table before him. With an ease he didn’t feel, he leaned back in his chair, allowing his to gaze sweep across the remaining people.
From across the room Sasha smiled and sashayed to his side. “You are tired, Master.” It wasn’t a question. They were close enough that he knew she sensed his frustration even behind the wall he had erected for the rest of his people. She placed a gentle hand on his. “Perhaps you need time to sort this out.” She intertwined her fingers around his. “Until you do, let me ease your mind with my body.” Eyelids half-shuttered, she gave his hand a tug. The musky scent of her arousal rose, caressing him like fingers across his skin. Yet it didn’t affect him as it used to. No. He wanted the touch of one woman and only one woman, which was surprising in itself. Marcellus usually never took a single woman to his bed. He enjoyed a variety of bedmates. Sex was something to share and enjoy.
Before Marcellus could respond to Sasha’s invitation, Deirdre turned around from where she stood nearby. She flashed him a smile. Her gown swept the floor as she drew nearer. “It would be my pleasure to join you.”
Marcellus knew everyone left in the room had heard Sasha’s and Deirdre’s invitation, one he had never refused. He uncurled his fingers from Sasha’s and scooted his chair back so that its wheels slid easily on the wooden floor.
“Tamanen is my mate.” He pushed to his feet. “Time will not change that.”
As Sasha opened her mouth to speak, with a single thought he disappeared, leaving without another word.
Tamanen was still asleep in Lanier’s arms when Marcellus materialized next to the fireplace, looking down on them.
Lanier shook his head. “You know that little trick is going to be a problem, if she learns that particular ability,” he whispered, obviously trying not to wake her even as he shifted his position. She moaned softly. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and Marcellus wished it had been him holding her—kissing her. He had missed not waking in her arms this evening. Lanier had been there to comfort and love her, while he had been occupied with his people. He felt as if he was getting nowhere with them. They were a superstitious bunch. They couldn’t see Tamanen as he did.
They were lucky Grady had chosen a woman like Tammy, because the combination of both races could make her nearly unstoppable. By the furrow of concern etched in Lanier’s forehead, he must have been thinking the same thing. Somehow Marcellus knew that after her heat she would settle down and accept her new life. The thought of killing someone sickened her. He saw the guilt in her eyes when she realized the damage she had inflicted on Titan. But what if he was wrong?
Marcellus didn’t want to think about that. The evening had divulged one thing. “She ate and did not feel the effects as my people would. Perhaps she is more lycanthrope than undead.” He tugged at his black slacks as he knelt beside them. The silk of his shirt sleeve breezed against Lanier’s skin, and their gazes met. Marcellus was the first to break the connection, smoothing his knuckles across her cheek. “I missed you,” he said even though he knew she didn’t hear him.
Roark resisted releasing the growl that vibrated deep in his throat. Instead he focused on the subject at hand. “The drink you supplied last night quenched her thirst.”
“Yes, but it is a poor substitute for the real thing.” The heat of Donne’s stare on the pulsating vein in Tammy’s neck made Roark shift her in his arms, drawing her closer to his chest. Donne glanced up at him. “It is natural for us to feed upon each other. As you are aware it is very sensual. It heightens the climax. Besides, she is sweeter than anything I have ever tasted.” A hint of devilment sparked in his dark eyes. “Except for your essence, of course. It—how do the human’s express it? Turned me on.” The damn vampire had the nerve to wink.
“Fuck you, Donne,” Roark mumbled trying to rein his temper in. All the while his cock began to harden. Memories of the man’s tongue caressing his balls and his shaft made him pull in a terse breath.
“With pleasure.” Donne wasn’t prepared for the quickness of Roark’s fist, which swung out, connecting with his jaw and tossing the vampire back right on his ass. Surprise turned to something amusing. There was no animosity in Donne’s laughter, even as he cupped his jaw and made a see-saw action with it. “Nice sucker-punch. I’ll be ready for the next one.”
“If you two are through playing around, I’d like to get out of this room.” Tammy stared up at Roark as she pushed from his arms and then off his lap to rise.
Damn. She was beautiful. Golden hair draped down her back. A matching patch shaded the apex of her thighs show through a part in the red robe she wore. Luscious breasts pressed against the satin causing his erection to grow firmer. But she wasn’t paying attention to him.
Tammy turned in a circle looking around the room. He could smell her anxiety rolling off her skin in sheets. “If I have to stay in here one more minute I’ll go stir crazy. Please?”
Donne and Roark exchanged glances. He reached out for the mind path he shared with Donne. “The wolf in her wants to run. She has been confined too long.” He knew the feeling. The last days and nights had been difficult on him as well. The wild called to his beast.
“Don’t do that.” Tammy raised her palms to rest on her hips. She narrowed her eyes on both of them, daring them to lie.
Roark wondered if his expression matched the one of innocence that masked Donne’s face as he asked, “Do what?”
“Use that mind thingy. Talk behind my back,” she corrected. With quick steps, she began to pace. “I don’t know how but I can feel you, sense the energy going between you two.” She whipped her gaze over the room again. “I need some clothes.”
Both Donne and Roark pushed to their feet at the same time. Donne took a step toward her. “My pet—”
“Don’t my pet me.” She ground her teeth and tightened the sash around her waist as if she pulled a blanket of courage around her shoulders. “I think I’ve been pretty compliant with both of you. Now it’s time for me to take control of my life. I need to know everything about what I’ve become. I will not be the enemy here any longer—nor the victim,” she added. Tammy squared her gaze on Donne. “Your people don’t like me. I can accept that.” She raised her chin and pride once again filled Roark. “I will not stay where I’m not wanted.” Now that didn’t sound good. “Last night I realized that if I have sufficient—” She hesitated, before clearing her throat. “Blood. Then I can manage the hunger.”
“But—”
She held up a hand and Donne fell quiet. “Help me.” Roark could tell she was in control, but still he heard the plea in her tone. Her essence reached out and wrapped around him. “I have become what I am. But I need your help to know my strengths, as well as my weaknesses. If you won’t assist me then I will do it on my own.”
Roark was seeing a whole different side of this woman, a side which he admittedly found arousing. The beast inside him woke and began to pace. An alpha bitch meant a challenge.
“Now, Tamanen, you can’t just leave here,” Donne stated matter-of-factly as he approached her. He reached for her, but with lightning speed she dodged his grasp. Shock radiated through the vampire. Already Tammy was beginning to discover her abilities, preternatural speed, or was it unconsciously?
Her rigid stance left no doubt in Roark’s mind she meant it. “I can and I will.” A stubborn streak screamed in the way she positioned her hands back on her hips and once again raised her chin. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line.
Damn. How he wanted to kiss that defiance right off her lips. Blood rushed his testicles. His hands itched to take her into his arms and show her who was dominant.
Donne speared him with a sharp glare. “Some help here?”
“She’s right,” Roark stated frankly.
“What?” A huff pushed from Donne’s lips. “Ahhh…I see. You think to steal her away from me.” An ominous air surrounded the vampire as his eyes darkened. “Do not try to deceive me.” The warning was a threat that made Roark�
�s beast spring to attention. It growled, perched low on its haunches, ready—willing. But they had much more at stake here than petty jealousy. If either of them misstepped, didn’t handle the situation right, they could lose her. There was an even larger danger. If she went rogue on them— Roark didn’t want to think of the consequences.
“Donne, she has awakened without hunger or need this evening.” Was it already Wednesday night? They had fallen asleep before the fire and slept the entire day away. Donne had never joined them, which meant he had spent the day sleeping elsewhere. For some strange reason that bothered Roark, but he pushed the thought away and continued. “This is good—very good.” He sent what he hoped was a comforting smile toward Tammy, even though he could sense her beast close to the surface, needing to be stroked, caressed. “All she’s asking for is a little bit of her life back.” The freedom he knew they couldn’t allow.
“She cannot return to her old ways,” Donne insisted. “Her picture was all over the television. In my haste I forgot her purse and ID. The night guard discovered it and called the authorities.”
Mackenzie McKade Page 8
