Caressed by the Edge of Darkness

by Amanda J. Greene

  “I’m here, love.”

  Rowena stepped closer and whispered, “Only dark magic.”

  “You can’t mean—”

  “It’s the only way,” she snapped, cutting off Ron’s protest.

  Gabriel held Jordan’s gaze. His rough whisper chilled the air, “Leave us.”

  Jordan rolled toward him as her body jack-knifed with another rush of torture. The ice seeped from her bones, entering her blood. It coursed through her body and Jordan knew it was only moments away from her heart.

  “G-Gab-riel,” she grated, her throat raw.

  “Shh, save your strength.” He stroked her hair.

  She turned her face toward his hand, needing the heat of his touch. The cold was rising. Death was coming. So close now.

  No. Not yet. She had to tell him…He had to know. “I l-love—”

  “You’re going to survive this. You hear me? You will live.”

  The ice penetrated her heart. Her breath viciously punched from her lungs and everything went dark. As she faded, she heard a demon roar with anguished despair.

  Gabriel tore off his jacket and shirt then ripped at her clothing. He frantically gathered Jordan to his chest. Just seconds ago her flesh was searing to the touch, now she was freezing. Her lips tinted blue, her fingers tipped with frost bite, her skin so pale he could see the tracks of her veins. He had to get her warm.

  Crashing into the bathroom, he went to the steam shower. He turned the water on and closed them in. He used his body to shield her until the water heated. In those moments, his heart was still, his lungs unmoving, mirroring his woman in his arms. Finally, the water was hot enough and he spun around, dipping her under the spray. He thought her scream would shatter the glass stall, just as it shattered his soul.

  This couldn’t be happening. Jordan was human, she couldn’t die from the curse that plagued immortals. The Death Curse only attacked those that had taken the vows of Clan Chieftain. But her eyes…The torment, the misery, were clear to see. Her violet gaze dominated by flames. The fires of Hell itself. Burning, destroying her soul.

  My fault. He didn’t know how, but he knew his blood had done this to her.

  He prayed to every deity he could name and begged them to take him instead. She suffered because of him, because of his tainted blood.

  Jordan continued to shiver despite the water, but she drew breath and her heart beat.

  “Fight this. You can fight this,” he whispered against her ear.

  She brokenly rasped his name, drawing him back from the edge of madness. Then she slipped away from him, back into the realm between life and death.

  Gabriel sat on the tiled bench. Tucking her head under his chin, he wrapped his arms so tightly around her, he couldn’t tell where she began and he ended. He began to rock with her. She was so small, vulnerable and cold. Her body racked with uncontrollable shivers. Everything in him demanded he protect, provide.

  Losing her. No, he couldn’t lose her. Emotion ripped through him, leaving him raw.

  His instinct and his vampire demanded, Change her.

  He couldn’t. He just couldn’t…

  Mine! His head whipped back from the force of the demon’s inner roar.

  After searching for her, after all the battles, he’d rescued her only to kill her. Was this some sort of punishment? The Graces had shown him Heaven only to snatch it away and kick him back into Hell.

  Can’t lose her. Can’t lose her. Can’t fail her.

  He’d failed Vailraina. He’d failed Kerstyn. Was Jordan destined to be another woman he couldn’t save? Another in his care he couldn’t protect.

  No. He refused to let her go. There had to be something he could do. Dimitri would arrive night after next. They both had to hold on until the ancient could give her his blood.

  Gabriel stilled, his old friend’s words echoed in his ears. “Your blood may have more of an impact if you were to take her to the brink of death...” Unbidden, his fangs punched hard from his gums. His demon clamored within him.

  Maybe if he bit her, if he diluted his blood within her, the curse would recede. He’d have to be careful, her body was still weakened from the poison. It no longer laced her blood, but had damaged her organs. If he took too much he could ruin the progress her body had made.

  His eyes locked on her pulse. Slow. Jordan’s heart labored. She fought for air. She was fading. She was dying in his arms.

  Mine! Protect!

  He felt his demon rise. The change settled over him, his eyes black, his fangs dripped with the need to slice into flesh, greedy for blood. His woman’s blood. He’d take her to the edge of death and she’d live. She had to live.

  Gabriel bent his head to her throat. Taking in a deep breath, her scent anchoring him, he struck. His fangs pierced her skin, sank deep, and…his eyes rolled back then closed. Her blood was hot, sweet, honey, the legendary ambrosia of the gods. It filled his mouth, slipped down his throat. Every cell in his body charged with energy, with power and in that moment he realized he hadn’t fed since rescuing Jordan. Had he been waiting for this? Had he known this was going to come? In his darkest thoughts, in his most heated fantasies, he’d craved this. Her blood.

  He sucked, hard, drawing her life into his body. She shuddered against him, not in pain but in pleasure and her blood sweetened even more. God, to drink her when she orgasmed…His shaft instantly hardened.

  He was a nasty piece of work. His lust rising, his vampire roaring in triumph, as he took from his dying woman. With every swallow his stomach churned. The beast flashed images through his mind, turning her, splitting her legs over his lap, cutting the muscle of his neck for her with his claws, forcing her to drink. To take his cursed blood deep into her as she rode him—

  Focusing on her heart beat, he blocked everything else out. Her pulse slowed, her breaths short, sporadic gasps. She was slipping away. The pained tension of her body uncoiled, her limbs dangled. Her head lulled. She was there, on the verge. He had to stop. His mouth greedily pulled on her throat. Stop. He swallowed again. Now. Stop. Now!

  Gabriel threw his head back, his skull smacked the tile, cracking it. The sting of pain didn’t register.

  “Jordan. Look at me. Open your eyes,” he begged. He didn’t recognize his own voice. The desperation, the sorrow, he’d never heard anything like it.

  Cautiously, he swept his tongue over her skin, sealing her wound. His heart once again stilled as he waited. Waited. He forced one of her eyes open, the flames had died down and so too had her spirt.

  The room turned cold even though steam billowed around them. Death. The specter had come, was standing just before them. He could sense it, would smell the stench of oblivion.

  His hold on her tightened. Her pulse, faint. Her breath, low. Gabriel pressed trembling lips to her wet, matted hair. His soul cried out as loss torn it apart once more, ripping, shredding, destroying the beauty Jordan had restored within him. Emptiness and hate filled him as the darkness of Hell rose up to claim him.

  Let her go…have to…let her go.

  Gabriel rocked with her. A long forgotten rhyme began to fall from his lips, a song his mother had once sang to him.

  “G-Gabriel.”

  He opened his eyes, not knowing when he’d closed them, and peered down into serene violet pools.

  “I l-love you.” Her trembling whisper was a sword plunging into his chest, cutting his already damaged, bleeding heart. Slicing him in two.

  She loved him. Him! Graces above. His chest constricted. He couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t.

  His instincts flared, the shackles he wore on his beast, on his soul, snapped. As did his mind. A war cry rose up from the depths of his being. “You will not leave me.”

  He shifted her in his arms, her naked back to his bare chest. His burning black eyes staring straight ahead, pinning the invisible shadow of Death, he brought his arm up. His lips peeled back, his incisor sharpened even more.

  Dimitri’s voice drifted through his th
oughts once more, “…then give her yours.”

  I will!

  He plunged his fangs deep into his wrist, ripped at his flesh and viciously tore open his vein. Blood spirted over his face, dripped down his chin. Searing him.

  Willing the wound to remain open, he pressed it her mouth.

  She struggled against him. Her body rebelled. On some level, her hunter side knew what was happening.

  Yes. Yes! Fight it. Fight me. Be strong.

  With his other hand, he gripped her jaw and forced her mouth open. She tried to turn her head, to pull away, but he held her still.

  “Take it!”

  His blood filled her mouth. Framing her chin with his thumb and index finger, he stroked her throat with the others, encouraging her to swallow. She did. Again and again. Her mouth latched on to him, her tongue darted over his skin.

  Gabriel head fell back. She drew on him, taking more and more of his poisonous blood into her delicate body. God, her mouth burned him, her lips branded him. Gnashing his teeth, he held steady for her.

  Fuck. He was a beast. A true demon from Hell. Forcing this on her, forcing her to take from him. Self-loathing unlike he’d ever known roiled within him, but he couldn’t pull away.

  He could live with hate, had done so for centuries, and when this was done, when she’d transformed, he would bear her disdain. But she would live.

  After an oppressive eternity, he drew his arm away. The instant his wrist was free of her mouth, the gash healed.

  He turned her face toward him, the crown of her head fell back on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes cast dark shadows over her pale cheeks. Her beautiful lips stained with his blood. He stroked the line of her jaw. His throat burned with all the words he wanted to say, needed to say, but all that came was a broken plea, “Forgive me. I’m sorry. So…sorry, love.” He pressed his brow to hers. His body racked by a brutal tremor. He brushed his lips over hers, the scent of their mixed blood hit him like a blot. He flinched. The tip of his fang cut her bottom lip. He watched the crimson bead well. Entranced, he dipped his tongue to her lip and licked the blood away. His throat suddenly too tight, his voice as rough as gravel, he closed his eyes and whispered, “Forgive me,” then kissed her.

  Flames swept over his chest, scorching. His arms clamped around her. Burning. Burning. The repulsive aroma of chard flesh filled his nostrils. His shoulders shook, his mind struggled against the memories of his branding. The sizzling iron pressing into the flesh over his heart.

  Just as suddenly as it came the searing heat vanished.

  Jordan whimpered and his eyes flew open. She shifted on his lap. Trying to get away from him? He loosened his hold, but didn’t let her go. She leaned forward and his eyes fell to her back.

  “Holy fuck…” His heart turned over, and he exhaled, “Sweet, Graces.”

  All thoughts fled as he stared down at the brand on her shoulder blade. This had to be an illusion. His mind had finally snapped.

  With shaking fingers he gently traced the small circle, then the larger one around it.

  This couldn’t be real.

  He pressed his palm flat over his left pectoral. The pressure stung his still smoldering flesh and his brain struggled to process what he felt. The slave brand was gone. The puckered, angry scar that had marked him for centuries was now a slightly raised, simple design of a circle within a circle—his burn matched hers.

  Gabriel blinked, his eyes suddenly stung. Something warm rolled down his cheeks. Tears. Not of pain, not of mourning, not of loss. Tears of…relief….of happiness…of hope?

  The unfamiliar emotions tore through him, wreaking havoc, they destroyed all that he’d ever known. Gone was the cold, the hate, the ugliness of his past, until nothing existed other than Jordan.

  His mate.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gabriel stripped her then himself, leaving their soaked clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor.

  He brought her to the bed.

  Jordan’s heart beat was strong, steady, and his useless one mimicked the rhythm. He closed his eyes and focused on the cadence. Soothing, comforting. He cherished the quiet moment, stroking her hair. Never could have imagined what a small thing like holding his woman could do for a man. It brought him peace. He had endured centuries of a cold, barren existence, enjoying no emotion expect the lust for revenge and battel. When he fucked, he hadn’t felt true pleasure just a release of pressure. Now, everything had changed. Now, he felt everything. Had everything. They’d been two halves of the same whole. She was the light to his darkness.

  His mate. His queen. His everything. It didn’t seem real. He feared waking and fined this all had been a dream.

  How had this happened? When had he been set upon this path? When he’d found her photo? When Dimitri had asked him to raid that first slave warehouse? Or had it been when he’d decided to leave London over two centuries go and relocate to the Wild West? No, it had begun nearly thirteen hundred years ago when his life as he knew it had ended. Those Viking pillagers had started this and the Madame had sealed his fate.

  Gabriel’s brow creased with a deep frown. Was he…grateful? No, he could never be…could he? None of this made sense. He supposed it never would. It didn’t matter. He had her now. He’d rescued her and she’d rescued him.

  His finger sought the brand on her shoulder again, stroking, massaging. Every time his brushed over the mark, he felt a tug on his heart as if connected by a chain.

  She would live. Her life force was irrevocably connected to his. She wouldn’t be a vampire. Thank all the gods! Her body would still change, she’d still transform upon the next full moon. She wouldn’t crave blood, wouldn’t need it to survive. Jordan would still feel the sun on her skin, enjoy her favorite food, but she wouldn’t age. She wouldn’t grow ill. She wouldn’t die. She’d have all the strength of a vampire, even the fangs—he groaned imagining those razors buried in his neck, his writs, his thigh as she sucked him hard—she’d have none of the draw backs.

  His cock hardened and twitched. Jordan stirred and pressed her face against his abs. He cursed the damn thing between his legs for disturbing her.

  She settled back into the peacefulness of deep sleep and he marveled again at his good fortune. He couldn’t believe it. He was staring down at the perfection of his mate.

  Jordan was adrift between wakefulness and the most erotic dream. She and Gabriel were in the shower, steamy swirled around them creating a dense fog. His lips were at her throat, his fangs poised above her pulse. Her head fell back on his shoulder and she moaned as those sharp incisors sank into her. The world melted away. Nothing existed besides the pleasure he made her feel. Never want to wake up.

  Then there was pain. Flames. Her shoulder burned, her skin scarred and she was swept away into darkness.

  She snapped into consciousness. Her first coherent thought: she was naked. Second: she was in Gabriel’s bed. Not that she was complaining, but when had this happened? Last she recalled, she’d been at the club, in her dressing room…fighting Tana?

  Dizzy, she pressed her palm to her brow.

  Rowena had pulled her away and Ron had carried off Tana as she kicked and cursed.

  Her secret was out. Well, suck. She’d hoped to lay low for a little while longer, but maybe now the blond-duo would keep their mouths shut. But what had happened after? Why was she in Gabriel’s room? Had she been brought here after the fight? Was she to be punished?

  The vampire can try.

  On cue, Gabriel stepped from the weapons closet. He wore his traditional black suit, minus the jacket. Blades were strapped to the inside of his forearms, a long hunting knife was sheathed between his shoulders. Did he always were daggers?

  His expression was stern, his eyes hard, calculating as he swept his gaze over her. Jordan clutched the sheet to her chest, covering her breasts and sat up. He cross the distance in a flash. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze

  “Am I in trouble?”


  The question softened his eyes. “No. Why would you be in trouble?”

  “I fought with Tana.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth revealing a dimple. “That’s right. You did.”

  Jordan groaned. She shouldn’t have mentioned it.

  “I heard you trounced her. Why?”

  She shrugged. “Just Tana being…Tana.”

  “Tana’s Tana-ness pushed you over the edge?”

  Was he teasing her? “Yeah, something like that.”

  “Did she say something to you? Do something?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, don’t be obtuse.”

  “She said something about me,” he stated, his green eyes narrowed.

  “You’ve got a hit it and quit it reputation, big guy, and she took the opportunity to remind me of it. Once you’ve gotten into a girl’s pants, you’re done with her.”

  He stroked his fingers along the line of her jaw. “I’m not done with you. I’ll never be done with you.”

  For such a firm man, he was romantic, and that rough sexy voice of his made her shiver. She dropped her gaze and, her breath left her. He was hard. His erection strained against the confines of his trousers. She gasped when it pulsed beneath her gaze.

  Jordan inched back on the mattress, needing to put space between them before she tore open his fly and…She cleared her throat and hauled her eyes back up to his. “You still want me.”

  His brows knit in a frown. “Yes.”

  She blinked up at him. “We didn’t talk it out, we didn’t say we were boyfriend, girlfriend.”

  “You said yes. To us, you said yes.”

  Was he angry? Had his eyes flickered with hurt before his ice façade slipped back into place?

  “You can’t those words back. I won’t allow it.”

  Well…oookay. “I hadn’t thought…I mean, I didn’t realize you were talking about a relationship.”

  “You thought I just wanted sex from you.” He tugged his hands through his hair. Was he aggravated with himself or with her? The man had a reputation and he couldn’t fault her for being cautious and extra sure.