by Zoe Forward
His cell phone chirped. He yanked it out of his pocket, answering harsher than intended, “Yes?”
“The guys in the truck trying to kill you were low-level Squad vamps. They’re peons. They didn’t have much to say,” TC reported. “We will take care of the survivors. You want them dead or minds erased?”
“Just erase their memories. It’s more compassion than they’d show us, but I’m feeling merciful.” Useful talent TC had.
“Are you…alone with her?”
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Ambrose DiFalco called.”
Not good. “Why?”
“He wants a meeting. Actually, he didn’t ask. He gave a time. One hour before dusk at a coffee house in the city.”
“Arrange it. Text Eric the address. I’ll want you there, too.” He hung up and exited the bathroom. With a peek out her blinds, he confirmed Eric remained at his post outside on guard duty.
He lifted her upper lip. Her gums were pale to almost white, not a normal pink.
He removed the bloody dress. With a wet kitchen towel, he wiped away all residual blood.
He watched her sleep for a while. Few females could walk with this level of damage. None would challenge a male wolf more than twice her weight and with a shitload more battle experience. Remarkable. When her eyes had flashed an emerald challenge, respect had notched itself to the highest level. Nothing impressed him more than a true fighter. Ah, to hunt a fighter…and the sex upon winning…unforgettable.
If circumstances were different, and he wasn’t who he was with too much political responsibility to his species, and she wasn’t who she was, he’d have definitely enjoyed the chase. He’d be damned if staring at all her smooth skin didn’t make his mouth water with need to taste her. And her scent…it alone could be addicting.
He moved her to the bedroom. For endless minutes he stood above her. As he gazed at her slumbering form, animal instinct gripped him hard. She’s mine. It pushed him to mark her.
Absurd. Chemistry was unpredictable, but in this particular instance, he would fight it. He touched the giant emerald on her ring finger. She was marked as belonging to another, even if it was an arranged engagement to one of the more treacherous of the DiFalco hoard. Ambrose’s lust for power had earned him exile in the States after a clumsy attempt to kill his father. In most vamp families, that would’ve ended in Ambrose’s execution, but the DiFalcos were always trying to kill each other. It was a way of life. Viktor labeled it survival of the fittest. It bred devious minds, distrust, and never-ending political maneuvering. Marrying into the Scarpas, though, wasn’t a move he understood. Maybe it was a way to align themselves with one of the few larger families that wasn’t intermarried with them.
Lust clawed at his brain and body, uncaring for her engaged status. He sorted through the anomalous physical reaction, dissecting it in his mind like one would a dead animal in a grade school class.
Bloody hell.
He finally figured out how this demisang had hijacked his body. And she wasn’t going to like his explanation.
Chapter Seven
Vee cracked her eyes and immediately slammed them shut against the late afternoon light peeking through her curtains. She lay still for a few minutes, assessing her stats. Despite a monster headache, her body registered itself as okay.
Wait a minute. What was she doing in bed?
“How do you feel?” Lexan asked from where he leaned against the wall near the bedroom door.
She shot up. Her head swam, but adrenaline kept her upright. Looking down, her only article of clothing was her thong. She pulled the sheet to cover her chest. “How dare you undress me.”
His gaze remained fixed on her now-covered chest. Distractedly, he said, “Your dress wasn’t in good shape. I’m not sure it can be saved. True shame.”
Although she didn’t like that he’d undressed her, she wondered about his reaction. Her wound aside, had he liked what he’d seen? Oh my God. I want that.
He snagged her gym squeeze bottle off the nightstand and handed it to her. “Drink.”
Her stomach roared. She accepted the bottle, wondering where he’d found it. It must’ve been at the back of a cabinet. She hadn’t exercised in months, not with vertigo plaguing her any time she moved fast. One sniff detected blood. How thoughtful. Would it be poisoned? She detected no unusual odor. Just good old Type-O. Maybe he stuck a non-odorous poison in it.
Hunger overrode risk, and she sipped. Tasted great. On the upside, if she died from poison, it’d save her from a stressful night of Dominic’s dictates, the treatment, and sex with Ambrose. The human blood filled her stomach, but it didn’t assuage the hunger. She emptied the bottle.
He popped the tab on a can of Pepsi out of her frig and handed it to her. “You need the sugar.”
She sipped a few times, finding she did feel better when the soda hit her stomach. Funny how she craved the stuff but never thought to drink it after blood. “Thanks.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”
The low timbre of his voice with its rich quality fascinated her. She wished he’d keep talking just so she could hear the nuances of his voice, but he didn’t.
His eyes, so blue, stared at her as if he was seeing to her soul. Desire burst through her, raw and stark and all too strong. She craved him. It wasn’t like a blood craving, but a deep desire to touch him…to know him. Fear shimmered in her mind, not because she thought he’d force her into anything, but Lexan filled her senses with a sensual heat she couldn’t ignore.
He reached out as if he couldn’t resist and touched her cheek. The warmth of his fingers heated her skin.
She jumped, pulling her face away from his touch. “Don’t touch me.”
“You have beautiful skin.” He sounded unapologetic and unfazed by her demand.
“Don’t flirt with me.”
A slow smile spread on his face, softening every hard line and lighting up his eyes. “You’d know it when I was flirting.”
“You were flirting.”
“Maybe a little bit. But you do have beautiful skin.”
“Thank you, I guess.” She touched her teeth to her lower lip and shrugged.
“What happened last night? Did Dominic stab you?” The question came out so soft. Danger swirled around him as it had before when he’d asked.
“Not Dominic. I decided it time to leave the wedding when I felt things were…unsafe. They found out about your visit to the vet hospital.” She glared.
He didn’t apologize.
She continued, “One of Dominic’s Squad goons tried to detain me, but I said no. For them, noncompliant females warrant force.”
“Did you stab him back?”
“Yes. With his own knife.”
Lexan grinned. “Good. Did you kill him?”
“Probably not. I didn’t wait to find out. My hit was good, though. He’ll be down for a day or two.”
His eyes communicated respect. He touched her cheek again. She ached for his touch everywhere.
“What have you done to me?” she whispered.
“I sped your healing.”
She caught his hand as it dropped from her face. “I don’t mean that.” She traced his index finger. He allowed her to rotate his hand and touch the lines trekking across his palm. A glance up found him frozen as if holding his breath with his lips parted. What would those lips feel like against hers? “This…what’s happening?”
“Have you ever felt this with Ambrose?”
“No. Never. He and I…it’s a forced relationship. We don’t mean anything to each other.” Lexan’s pale blue gaze mesmerized her. She needed to run her hands over him. Then she’d trace his ink and all the contours of his hard body.
“The problem is, you’re in heat, or on the edge of it. You may not recognize it, but it’s got you in its grip.”
“Vampires don’t go into heat. That’s a wolf thing.”
“I can’t resist.” Lexan bent his head toward her. He pressed h
is lips to hers and lifted away. She shivered.
“We can’t do this on so many levels,” she whispered. But I don’t care. She leaned forward and stroked her tongue over his lips until his mouth opened. His body shuddered, and his breath hitched when her tongue tangled with his. His mouth moved on hers, deepening the kiss.
“You’re dangerous,” she muttered. She’d never been more conscious of being almost naked beneath a fully clothed male with the single motivation of getting him undressed.
“I am more dangerous to you than you could imagine, especially right now. We shouldn’t. You’re right. But I want to.” He shifted over her, pressing her farther back on the bed beneath him. One hand caressed her waist and slowly moved southward. He had superb control. His large body didn’t come close to squashing her. He fit himself against her with precision pressure on the right zones. Normally, a submission attempt from an alpha male ignited her instinct to fight, but from Lexan she melted, boneless and floaty, while his kisses continued. He caressed here and there until she found herself desperate between touches.
He kissed her neck over her jugular. She moaned and arched her neck toward his mouth when he continued kissing the most erogenous zone for any vampire. No male ever made her feel this wanted. Sexy. Wild.
“Damn, you’re beautiful. What you feel right now will become addictive. The more we touch, the worse it’ll get. Tell me to stop.”
“It’s not as addictive for you?” She caressed his erection.
He hissed. “If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to make you come. After that, you’ll want more, which can’t happen. It’s better for both of us not to have even a taste of this.”
At the suggestion her thighs locked around him as her core spasmed. “You think a lot of your skills, don’t you?”
“This is nature, not skill.”
Her eyes locked on the arch of his neck as his kisses descended toward her chest. Oh, to bite. She longed to taste the forbidden port pounding through his distended jugular vein.
One taste would kill her. Not a pretty death. She’d seen it. Bleeding out everywhere. Like a splash of cold water, she pushed him away and slid off the bed. She snagged her bathrobe out of the closet and pulled it tight around her. “Get out.”
Confusion swirled in his gaze as he pushed up off the bed.
She pointed at him. “I figured out your game. Fool me into taking a bite. Then I die. I’m not stupid. If you want me dead, just do it. I’m sure I’ve got a weapon around here somewhere you can use. I’d prefer you killed me that way, not with blood death.”
“There’s no game going on here. If I wanted you to die, I wouldn’t have helped with the knife wound.” He strode to her. She backed up until the wall cushioned her back.
He slapped a hand on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. He leaned into her, dominating but not cruel. Excitement streaked through her.
Hoarsely, he said, “There’s you wanting this, and me wanting you back. Whatever’s going on here doesn’t happen every day. It’s real. It’s stealing my fucking mind. And, it’s a hell of a mess.”
Okay, that was…hot. No one had ever told her she was stealing his mind.
She held herself rigid, hoping he’d pick up where he’d left off before she freaked out about everything again.
He leaned close, until his rapid breaths tickled her face. “The first moment I saw you, I wanted you naked. I needed to be so deep inside you that you’d scream my name. Right then. Right now, I want you in every way possible and in ways you’ve probably never even imagined. Your saving grace is I don’t sleep with vamps. If things were different, we wouldn’t be talking, and you’d be enjoying the hell out of where this could be going.”
He blew out a long, obviously frustrated breath. “Aren’t you scared of this sudden lust?” He gripped her hair to pull her head back to force her to meet his gaze. “If you’re not, you should be. One word, and I’ll toss you on that bed and fuck you until you scream with pleasure so many times you can’t move.”
His head lowered. His lips went to her neck, grazing over her skin. She shuddered and her hands gripped his powerful arms.
“Damn it, you taste good. So good.”
She bit her lip against moaning when he licked across her skin again down to her collarbone.
“This craze you feel is only for me. No one else will do. Remember that.” He cradled her chin to meet his gaze. “No one. If another male touches you while you’re this way, I’ll kill him. Any male. Even Ambrose. That doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck you.” He pushed away from the wall and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m walking out right now because you’re not ready for this. Your body might be, but you’re not. The longer we’re here together and alone… There’s only so long I can remain in control.” He shook his head and muttered a curse. Then he left. She heard the front door open and close.
She remained immobile. Shocked. He wanted her?
Oh my God. Aleksander Dimitrov, King Werewolf, wanted her. The flattered girly girl part of her did a hell yeah dance. The rational side of her freaked out all over again.
Crap, crap, and triple crap. She’d almost gotten it on with a werewolf. In her own bed.
What did he mean she was in heat? Vampires didn’t go into heat. Only wolves. Was it possible to desire a wolf so much that even a vampire could go into heat? Maybe him using spit in her knife wound had changed her biochemistry.
She shook her head, blowing off Lexan’s analysis. Her in heat was absurd. This was chemistry. Incendiary chemistry, but nothing more. Anomalous.
An annoying electronic whine whirred from her cell phone. Where’d she put the annoying device? She prowled her apartment until she located the phone on the counter where she’d thrown her keys. Once she clicked off the alarm, the light came on to show she had a phone message from Ambrose. She couldn’t deal with him right now, not with her body on fire for Lexan.
After a quick text to her boss to let him know she’d miss work for the next few nights, she snagged a two-day-old bagel from her kitchen counter and chewed while popping open her laptop. The bakery fresh taste had dulled to a stiff cardboard consistency. She tossed it in the trash and unwrapped two Hershey’s Kisses.
Time to cash out of her day trade accounts. A few needed another week before they peaked, but she needed to liquefy all assets. She had all funds sent to her offshore account. Then she viewed flights. The earliest with an available seat left in an hour. It only got her to JFK, but she could figure out the next leg of her trip once there. Sixty minutes didn’t give her enough time to enact phase one of her evacuation plan and make it through airport security. The next flight in a little over two hours worked. With a few clicks she booked it.
She padded into the bathroom. Her jaw dropped when she viewed her back in her vanity mirror. Only the faint trace of a white line remained where the knife had hit. Lexan had worked a miracle. She could heal, but not like this. The bad news was Lexan’s method left his scent all over her. But she didn’t mind.
Yes, you do mind. She had to mind. His smell would get her executed by any Stateside vamp she crossed.
She showered with the water so hot the entire room clouded with steam. She scrubbed, using almost an entire bottle of body wash and an abrasive loofah that one of the hospital staff gave her in a Christmas gift set. She’d been reluctant to even remove it from its package since it looked so unforgiving. She pawed through the bathroom drawers looking for some perfume samples. A perfume girl she was not, but she had to do something.
She packed clothes in a carry-on, along with her computer. She grabbed her mother’s small black-and-white photo off the bedroom wall, her only memento of the woman she never knew. With another three or four hours before dusk, she needed sun protection. Long sleeves and a hat were a start. She slathered sunscreen on all exposed areas.
Her stomach rumbled. Before she spent hours in tight quarters with humans, she needed more blood. The little bit she drank earlier was all she
had left in the house. It wasn’t going to hold her for long. Fortunately, the vamp convenience store was open twenty-four hours a day. It fronted as an Asian market, but the refrigerators in the back held the liquid magic she needed. She’d buy a blood to-go cup on her way to the airport.
As she exited the elevator, her cell rang. Ambrose again. She ignored it. Once outside, she pulled the sunhat tight to her head and her sleeves over her exposed hands.
Time to enact phase one of evacuation.
She needed to die.
Chapter Eight
What the hell was she doing? Lexan and Eric hadn’t even reached their home base before he got a call from TC, who he’d ordered guard her. Leaving hadn’t been easy. Instinct demanded he watch and guard her himself. But him near her right now, watching and stalking, asked for catastrophe. He’d end up in her apartment, probably within an hour. Then, there’d be no restraint to the hormonal tornado gripping him.
She wasn’t ready.
Now he watched her a hundred yards away and couldn’t process what he witnessed as possible.
Vee had parked in a shady area less than a mile away from her apartment, behind a dilapidated warehouse. She doused her car’s interior in gasoline and palmed a matchbook, staring at her little car as if drumming up the courage to light the match. When he’d left her she’d been aroused, possibly scared, but not suicidal. Maybe she decided there was no other way out. Maybe she’d realized she wasn’t full vampire.
As she opened the matchbook and neared the car, panic hit, pushing him to do whatever necessary to stop her from dying. Using preternatural speed, he ran. He caught her hand. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Where the hell did you come from?” Vee jerked her hand out of his grasp and backed away from him.
He’d dealt with a number of suicidal wolves over the years, most back in the days of their enslavement. Panic hadn’t been a player in his reactions before. He needed to calm down.
Her dying of her own volition didn’t fit with her fighter spirit. It made no sense, but it terrified him. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her until it passed. She needed to know she was important…to him.
