by Chloe Hart
“Celia found this ancient text,” she began.
He waved that off. “Nothing you and Celia have come up with is enough to stop this thing. You’ve been dealing with the supernatural for what, a few years? I’ve been a vampire for more than a century. I wish you and Celia would—”
“Run away and play?” She shook her head. “Just shut up and listen, all right? Celia was looking for a way to augment my power. And she found it.”
She clenched her hands into fists. “There’s this ritual,” she said, speaking rapidly and looking down at the floor. “And if we do the ritual...it’s simple really, a chant and some herbs and...”
Her face was hot. Her wound was throbbing.
“And then...”
Her fingernails bit into her palms as she willed herself to continue. She felt like she was choking.
“...if we have sex...”
Okay, it was out, no taking it back now.
“Your power will flow into me for one night and I’ll be strong enough to defeat the...thing. Creature. Kraken. Whatever.”
Dead silence in the room, except for the pounding of her heart.
When Jack finally spoke his voice sounded cautious.
“Enhanced hearing is one of the perks of being a vampire, but I wouldn’t lay odds I just heard what I think I heard. So let me go over a few points.” He cleared his throat. “We do a ritual...”
“Yes.”
“Then we have sex...”
God damn him to hell. “Yes.”
“Then all my power flows into you, you kick the Kraken’s ass, and everyone goes home happy?”
“That’s the idea,” she said, finally looking up. His expression was unreadable, but at least he didn’t seem to be laughing at her. Not yet, anyway.
“Why you?” he asked.
“What?”
“If the ritual combines our powers, why do you have to be the conduit? Why not me?”
She stared at him. “That’s what you’re worried about? Which one of us does the actual fighting? People are dying out there, you selfish son of a—”
“Save it, princess. Save it for someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do. There’s no way you would’ve come here with this little proposal if it was the other way around. If I was the one taking your power to go fight the Kraken.”
Anger made her voice shake. “God, that’s so typical. You don’t give a damn about the world, do you? Just as long as you can get your macho kicks and pretend to be a hero, you—”
“Me? That’s a laugh. You’re the glory hound in this room. You’ve resented me ever since you were called, because I’m better at your job than you are. Faster, stronger, smarter—”
Liz’s reaction was instantaneous. She crossed the space between them before she knew she intended to move.
“I hate you,” she said, her face inches from his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her right knee hovered over his groin.
Jack didn’t move at all. His shoulders were like rock, and his expression was amused. “Careful you don’t pull out your stitches, sweetheart. And careful with that knee. I’d hate to see you damage the only part of me you’ve ever admitted you need.”
Liz pushed herself off him and backed away a few paces. “I don’t need you. Not any part of you. Just forget I came here, vampire, and go back to whatever you—”
“Forget it? Not a chance. I’m going to treasure this memory for years. The night I was propositioned by Liz Marlowe.”
He grinned at her. “You look so sexy, too,” he went on, looking her over with an expression that made her want to sink through the floor. “The dirty face, the torn jeans—and of course the stitches I just put in your gut. Yeah, you make quite a picture, Liz. Did you think I’d actually want to perform this ritual of yours?”
To her shame, Liz had to bite her lower lip to keep it from trembling.
“Okay, so I was stupid to come here. I won’t make that mistake again.” She lifted her chin. “But don’t worry about the Kraken. There’s a vampire in Montreal I can go to with this. Maybe he won’t be as...particular as you are.”
With that she turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her.
It took a long time for his fists to unclench.
Etienne. She must mean Etienne. There weren’t many vampires who fought on the side of the elven warriors, and Etienne du Lac lived in Montreal.
Jack rose to his feet and began to pace. Would she go straight from him to the other vampire, or would she go home first and get some rest? She had a warrior’s accelerated healing, but her body needed sleep to knit itself together. If she had any sense she’d take a night to heal, but Liz was so reckless…
She didn’t know what she was asking. It was almost impossible for a vampire to have sex without biting, and with a human—especially one who was part Fae—there was always the risk of going too far, taking too much. And a warrior’s blood was special, would taste like ambrosia.
Would Etienne tell her any of this? Or would he just jump at the chance to have sex with a warrior? To taste a warrior?
To taste Liz...
This time he couldn’t control it. His fangs burst through his gums, and since there was no one around to hear, he gave vent to his feelings with a low growl. He imagined Liz beneath him, imagined covering her body with his as he thrust into her, bit into her, made her his in all the ways a vampire could claim a woman.
Then reality reasserted itself, and he smiled grimly as he pictured Liz’s response. She was a warrior through and through, and she’d die before surrendering to a vampire’s desire.
Especially his.
Not that it mattered, of course. He didn’t want Liz Marlowe. He’d been without a woman for too long, that was all.
He dragged a hand through his hair as he remembered the night they met. He’d almost lost his place in their fight, watching her. All that violence and passion and fury, focused until she was like a laser—precise, deadly, blinding.
Maybe that’s why their fight had ended with no clear winner. Maybe at the crucial moment, the moment he should have been able to overpower her, he’d simply been...blinded.
He stopped pacing. This was where Liz had been standing when she made her ridiculous proposal. Remembering the look on her face, he knew how hard it must have been for her to come here.
He shouldn’t have said what he did. Shouldn’t have gone out of his way to hurt her. It was just...she’d never made a secret of how much she despised him, despised what he was. In the end, he hadn’t been able to resist the chance to get a little of his own back.
And by behaving with the maturity of a twelve-year-old boy, he’d sent Liz rushing off to find some other vampire to fulfill this ritual of hers. Any vampire but him.
He glanced at the clock. More than an hour had passed since she’d left. Would she be home in bed, or on her way north?
He stood still for a moment, and then reached for the phone.
A sleepy voice answered after the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Celia.”
“Yes. Who—”
“It’s Jack Morgan. I need to know more about this ritual.”
A short silence, and then Celia’s gasp reverberated over the phone line. “Oh, my God. She actually went to you with that? She told you about it?”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “She told me about it.”
“Did you—I mean—are you going to do it?”
Jack had never heard a blush before, but he heard Celia’s. “Right now I just need some information. I need to know if it’s safe for Liz.”
“Safe for Liz? You’re the one who’ll be weak as a kitten for an entire night. Of course it’s safe for Liz. I don’t know what you—”
“Listen to me. If this mojo goes down and Liz gets all this extra power, how will it affect her judgment? She’s already amped up on absinthe. Will this make her feel invincible? Is she going to go off half-cocked, thinking she’s Superman or something?”
A low chuckle
. “She does that already, Jack.”
“This time it could get her killed. The creature almost got her tonight.”
“I know. She stopped by for a few minutes, on her way home. She told me about the Kraken, told me what we’re facing...but she didn’t tell me she’d seen you.”
“Our conversation didn’t end on a good note.”
“Is that a euphemism for one of you punching the other one in the face?”
Jack sighed. “Just tell me what I need to know. How strong would she be if we did this?”
“It’s a powerful alchemy. It would make Liz stronger than just the sum of your individual powers. She really would be invincible—or nearly, anyway.” Celia paused. “Liz said she’s going on a trip tomorrow. Up north. Does that mean...is she going to Etienne?”
Jack’s grip tightened on the phone. “Not if I can help it. Look, Celia—don’t tell Liz I called. Okay?”
“Okay. But, Jack—”
“Everything’s going to be all right. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
He made another call, and the phone rang several times before it was answered. “I told you not to worry,” Liz’s voice said grumpily. “I’m going to sleep, all right? I’ll call you in the morning.”
“It’s not Celia.”
A long silence.
“You son of a bitch. I can’t believe you have the gall to—”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“I’ll do the ritual. Be your power source. Get you all revved up to destroy the Kraken. Okay?”
Another silence. Jack wished she were there in front of him, so he could read her heart beat, her facial expressions, her scent.
“When?” she asked finally, and Jack was surprised at the intensity of the relief that shot through him.
“Tomorrow night,” he said. “I’ll come to your place after sunset.”
“Come after moonrise. The moon has to be visible in the sky for the ritual to work.”
“It’s a date, then,” Jack said, a smile twisting one corner of his mouth.
“Very funny. Look, Jack, we both know this isn’t a date. We hate each other’s guts and that isn’t going to change. Let’s just do what we have to and take care of business.”
The girl was all romance.
“Fine by me, princess.”
Chapter Four
By sunset the following day, Liz’s stomach wound was practically healed. A night and a day of rest had done the trick, and when she took off the bandages, a scar was all that remained of the Kraken’s attack.
Her body was just fine. Her mind, on the other hand, was in complete turmoil.
She told herself she was cleaning because she was restless, not because Jack was coming over. She worked with belligerent energy, wielding her dust cloth like a weapon, attacking dust and dirt as if she were waging battle.
She paused when she came to her bedroom. In spite of her determination not to think about tonight, images of Jack flooded her mind, along with images of the last time she’d had sex in this bed. Liz didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the memory.
It was the first time she’d brought a guy home since she’d been called as a warrior. Kevin had been really into her, and they’d both been turned on, and the excitement between them had built until...well...she got carried away. She forgot to hold back, and had gripped Kevin’s arms hard enough to leave bruises—and to send him running for the door.
She’d left a message the next day to apologize. He’d never called back.
Lesson learned: strong isn’t always sexy. Since Kevin, she hadn’t even tried to date. She didn’t want to get involved with another warrior, for fear of losing respect within the clan, and as for human men…well, the prospect of inflicting permanent damage in the throes of passion was something of a deterrent.
Of course, she wouldn’t have to worry about that with Jack...
Liz shook her head sharply. Even if Jack was strong enough for her, even if she had been celibate way too long, the basic facts remained: they hated each other, and tonight was not about sex. It was about defeating the Kraken.
There was a knock at the front door.
Liz’s heart jumped in her chest. Her bed was still unmade, and the room was still a pigsty.
She turned her back on the mess and shut the door firmly behind her. There’d be no need to go in there, anyway. This wasn’t some romantic tryst. The living room was good enough for what was happening tonight.
She took a deep breath and went to open the door.
Jack could see immediately that she’d recovered from her wound. Her skin had color again, and there was no sign of pain in her expression.
She wore no makeup, he noted. Not that she needed it. Framed by her black silk hair, Liz Marlowe’s skin was as flawless and finely textured as a rose, her cheeks faintly pink, her lips full and sweet and—
Christ, just listen to him. He sounded like a bad Victorian novel. Reminding himself what tonight was really about, he followed the warrior into her living room.
“Got everything ready, I see,” he said, nodding at the candles that made a circle about five feet in diameter and the bier of herbs set in the center.
“That’s right,” she said shortly, not looking at him. His vampire senses told him her heart rate was up, but he couldn’t read her thoughts.
She sat down cross-legged on the floor, tucking her bare feet under her and arranging her black cotton skirt carefully over her knees.
“You’re wearing a skirt,” he heard himself say. He’d never seen her in anything but jeans before.
She looked up at him for the first time, her eyes wary.
“Yes,” she said. “I thought it would be...easier. You know. For later.”
He swallowed. Her words brought images before him, images he couldn’t suppress right away. His hands reaching for her, reaching beneath her skirt, sliding up her strong, slender thighs...
“Right. Very practical,” he said, his voice sounding harsher than he meant it to.
Her mouth tightened. “I’m not any happier about this than you are,” she snapped.
“I know,” he said as he sat down across from her. “Let’s just get through it, okay? Tell me what you need me to do.”
Her eyes met his briefly, and then she nodded.
It was a simple enough ritual. Jack lit the candles on his half of the circle while she lit hers, and they both lit the herbs in the bier, sending a sweet aroma into the air that mingled with the scent of the candles. Liz turned off all the lamps, so the only light in the room came from the burning herbs and candle flames. Then she sat down in the circle again and read from a sheet of paper, her voice a little shaky at first but growing stronger.
The chant was in Latin, which Jack had learned in his youth. He could follow the words well enough, but he didn’t bother after a few minutes. Instead, he found himself staring at Liz as she stared down at the paper, a little frown line between her brows.
Her soft black hair was tucked austerely behind her ears. Every so often a lock of it would tumble free, and she would smooth it back again.
She was wearing a white tee shirt. The lines of her bra were visible beneath it. Once his eyes had traced the outline of her breasts, he couldn’t seem to look anywhere else. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing.
Here and there he caught phrases of the ritual, and the words affected him strangely. “Light and dark cannot exist without the other...male and female cannot exist without the other...life and death cannot exist without the other. They shall be joined, flesh to flesh, and their powers unite...”
The air seemed colder suddenly, and then hot. Liz stopped speaking and laid the paper down beside her. The first part of the ritual was complete.
Silence fell, but there was a faint hum of energy all around. Goosebumps shivered her skin and her scalp prickled, as though each individual hair were trying to stand on end.
“Do you feel that?” Liz whispered, looking up at J
ack. His eyes glittered in the candlelight. Against his black shirt, his skin was as pale as marble.
“Yes,” he answered in a low voice. Something in his face made her heart beat faster.
“Ground rules,” she said quickly, trying to maintain her sense of control. “No kissing, obviously. Not that either of us would want to. Minimal clothing removal, of course. That’s why I wore the skirt. All you have to do is...you know...unzip. No unnecessary touching. I’m sure you agree that—”
“Enough, Liz,” Jack growled. “We both get it. Trust me, I’m not going to touch you any more than I have to. Now let’s get this done. You’ve got a date with the Kraken.”
Jack’s eyes still glittered, and he was breathing, something vampires only did in times of stress. He honestly seemed more disgusted by this whole situation than she was.
Well, he’d made no secret about his feelings. She ought to be relieved.
“You’re right,” she said.
She stood up without looking at him and pulled up her skirt, hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear. They were plain white cotton, the most utilitarian pair she owned. She slid them down to her ankles, stepped out of them, and tossed them aside.
She risked a glance at Jack. His expression was frozen as he stared at her.
“Your turn,” she snapped, feeling more exposed than she ever had in her life, even though her skirt was down again and he couldn’t really see anything.
Jack looked away from her and nodded. Sliding back to lean against the couch, he reached for the fly on his jeans.
Liz had never seen Jack Morgan look clumsy. Not when he fought, and not when he’d stitched her up last night. Now, for the first time, she saw his hands shaking.
She saw something else, too.
“You’ve got an erection,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
His hands stilled as he glared at her. “What did you think was going to happen when you took off your damn panties? What do you think we’re here for, anyway?”
When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? “It’s just...I mean...I thought you hated me,” she finished quickly.
His mouth twisted. “Don’t worry. Men can have a physical reaction to a woman they hate. That’s just biology, Liz. Don’t take it personally.”
