“What's coming? Why the hell can't I help you save her?” Aden sputtered, placing his hands on either side of the door to stop her from pulling him through the doorway and onto the porch.
Ophelia's eyes glowed bright green behind Eleanor, and he felt his hands slipping. The old woman gave another tug, pulling him fully outside. “Trust me, Aden. This fight is not yours.”
Her voice was so strained, the look of concern in her eyes so pronounced, that he stopped resisting her. “All right, Eleanor. You win. Just...keep her safe.”
She smiled fiercely, “I will.”
After Carissa’s decision, Ryker held a whispered meeting with Gwen and Rafe over by their SUV. The werewolf goons were flexing their muscles on either side of her. Even if she somehow managed to free herself, she wouldn’t get far. No one but Gwen knew where she was. No one could save her but herself—and she lacked the power. The tears Carissa had been fighting found their way free, coursing down her cheeks with abandon.
Even if, by some miracle, Aden turned up, Ryker would kill him on the spot. The werewolf perceived him as a threat to his imagined life with Carissa, and usurpers weren’t tolerated in the lycan world. Her heart breaking, Carissa conceded that Aden knowing nothing was for the best. Better to let her pass on into the obscurity of the werewolf packs, than for Aden to be a victim of the very thing he’d been trying to avoid—the Counsel’s slayers.
Oh yes, Carissa knew her suspicions to be true. Ryker’s words floated over on the humid night breeze, and she caught a few names—Daniel, Jasmine, and someone named T. Ryker called two of them Council Bloodsuckers. Carissa didn’t know how werewolves became involved with the Vampire Counsel, but like any political entities, it wasn’t difficult to guess what both factions were after.
Power.
It was always power. And how better for the vampires to achieve that than to preside over one of the largest entities in the world—the werewolves themselves—and in turn, enslave the weak humans?
And her sister was on their side.
Nausea churned in Carissa’s belly as she strained to hear more. She felt the air waiver around her, and suddenly, she could hear them clearly.
Ryker’s angry tone zipped through the charged air, assaulting her ears. “You may be the Pack Master’s daughter, but you don’t outrank me, Gwen -- you can’t even shift without the full moon, yet,” he growled. “If I wanted to take your whore of a sister right now, I would.” He stopped and drew in a hissed breath, looking back at Carissa briefly. “Unfortunately, I have your father’s orders not to take her for another three weeks. He wants me to wait until after the ceremony.” He faced Rafe. “Now, where’s the drug?”
Rafe opened the door to the SUV and reached inside, handing a small object to Ryker. “Right here. This dose will knock her unconscious so she can be moved to the compound. Garrett wants her in the spare room before the ceremony takes place. He wants her there with enough time to train her for the occasion.”
Ryker nodded, his arm dropping to his side, giving Carissa a clear view of the syringe in his hand. She shuddered, attempting to twist her wrists again. She couldn’t let them take her. Whatever their ceremony was, she didn’t want to be a part of it—especially if Ryker was involved. Her wrists were secured too tightly to accomplish anything, so she stopped struggling with a whispered curse.
“Shut up,” the goon on her right muttered.
Carissa ignored him, senses straining, mind questing for any answer to her predicament. That’s when she heard the muted sound of footsteps behind her. She prayed the others weren’t listening. The footsteps continued around the outside of the park, and for a moment, she thought they would pass by. They didn’t. After pausing at the entrance, two figures emerged from the darkness into the center of the garden.
Carissa’s jaw dropped. Her best friend and her nana sauntered into the clearing dressed in sturdy jeans and t-shirts, and both had knives on their belts. Eleanor looked younger and more fit than Carissa had ever seen her, and Ophelia—she looked like she could kick everyone’s ass without batting an eyelash.
Eleanor and Ophelia stopped a couple of feet from Carissa, their stance loose but ready. The moment Gwen saw them, she gasped and ran to the old woman. “What are you doing here, Nana?” she asked as Rafe and Ryker joined them, Ryker sliding the syringe into his pocket before it could be seen.
Placing her hands on her hips, Eleanor glared at her eldest granddaughter. “I’m here for Carissa.”
Ryker stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared down at her. “This is pack business. You can’t have her.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Are you going to stop me?”
The two goons stepped forward to flank Ryker. His grin chilled her to the bone. “If I have to, old woman.”
Gwen made to move between them, but Rafe held her back. “No,” he whispered, “Don’t make him turn on you.”
Ryker laughed, the sound as pleasant as a cheese grater pressed against her eardrums. “That’s a good idea, Rafe. Keep your bitch in check.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes, nodding subtly to Ophelia, who stepped forward, drawing her knife with a soft hiss. Eleanor’s blue eyes glowed bright in the moonlight. The wind picked up in a howling crescendo, whipping Carissa’s hair about her face. Ryker growled loudly, his anger a thick black cloud as his body shimmered, threatening to shift. Ophelia’s eyes went from hazel to bright emerald green in less than a second, and it dawned on Carissa that her best friend was a sorceress, too.
Ophelia lashed out with the knife, stopping the blade a hair from Ryker’s neck. He gulped, eyes wide, as his form re-solidified. “Maybe I overstepped, ma’am.”
But when Eleanor’s eyes dimmed and the wind calmed, Ryker glared at his goons. “What are you waiting for, you fools? Get them!”
They tried to follow his orders, but no amount of jerking unstuck their feet from the ground. Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I’d trust you, did you?”
Ryker reached up and grabbed Ophelia’s arm, twisting, trying to make her drop the knife. With a yell, she brought her knee up between his legs, sending him crashing to the ground, cupping himself as he glared up at her.
“You bitch!” he grunted, “I’ll kill you for that!”
Ophelia looked down her nose at him, flicking a finger over the point of her knife. Sparks ignited at her touch. “If you think you can,” she said softly, “you’re welcome to try.”
Ryker sprung to his feet, both hands outstretched, lunging for her neck. Ophelia sidestepped to her left, slashing out with the knife. Blood bloomed through the cut on his arm, droplets splattering in a wide arc as he sailed past her, tripping over Eleanor’s outstretched leg to land face-first on the cobblestones. Ophelia looked down at the blood dripping from the tip of her knife, then at Ryker. Her eyes took on the same luminescent glow as before. The blood flashed neon red, and Ophelia smiled. She turned and nudged the stunned werewolf with the toe of her boot, rolling him onto his back. Holding the knife over the skin of his arm, she let a single drop of his blood fall.
Ryker screamed in agony as the droplet touched his arm, burning a hole the size of a fifty-cent piece in his skin. He tried to roll away, but Ophelia stepped on his wrist. “Don’t,” she hissed, “And if you try to shift, I’ll drip this on your freakish head. Got it?”
Ryker nodded once, his chest heaving as he panted in pain. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice strained.
Ophelia looked over to Carissa and smiled. “Let her go, and we’ll let you go.”
“Fine,” Ryker growled. “Get her the hell out of here.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Carissa rested her forehead against her steering wheel. After Ophelia’s awesome display of power, Eleanor sent Ryker and the goons scurrying away on foot, followed by Gwen and Rafe in the SUV. Carissa figured they stopped down the road and picked up the others, hence why she felt comfortable enough to sit by herself in her Durango acros
s the street from the park. Ophelia had offered to stay with her, but she’d declined. Right then she wanted two things: To be alone with her thoughts for a minute, and then go back to her house and see Aden. When her phone rang, she fished it out of her purse, answering without bothering to check the number. Aden’s anxious voice reached her through the speakers, and Carissa let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
“Carissa? Eleanor just called me. Are you alright?”
She laughed weakly, and tugged her tattered shirt together in the front. “I’m better, now. I’m about to drive home.”
His sigh was loud in her ear. “Good. I’m at your place.”
“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay. And Carissa?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
She smiled, relief flooding her body in waves as she hung up the phone. He loved her. Everything would be okay—as long as she could keep him alive. Ryker wasn’t going to give up, and she knew it. They’d earned a temporary reprieve, but she had a gut feeling that it wouldn’t last long. With a groan of frustration for the inconvenient whims of fate, she shifted the SUV into drive and headed home, looking forward to seeing her vampire for what could be the last time.
Carissa pulled into her driveway minutes later. Her foremost thoughts had turned to the vampire that waited for her, and how much she wanted to be in his arms – how much she wanted to erase the reality of what had almost happened with Ryker. Thinking as she was, she wasn’t shocked when Aden yanked her door open before she’d even had a chance to cut the engine. Without saying a word, he reached past her and shut off the ignition. He unhooked her seat belt, slid an arm under her legs, the other behind her back, and plucked her out of the Durango as if she weighed less than nothing.
“Aden, what—” He silenced her question with a kiss.
“Talk later,” he muttered. “Love now.” Carissa grabbed him around the neck as he hauled her inside. She could definitely live with that.
He kicked the front door closed and made a beeline for her bedroom, pausing to kiss her every time she tried to speak. Carissa bit back a laugh as he tossed her on the bed and dived in after her, reaching out to pull off what was left of her tattered shirt. Gentle fingers caressed the bruised skin of her shoulders, the lump of bruises on her face where Ryker hit her.
Aden growled low in his throat, his body tense, as he kissed every mark, feathering his lips across her damaged skin, along her jaw, to her mouth. His tongue touched lightly, seeking entrance with such tempered desperation that she had to give in. Opening to him, he snapped, pressing her into the mattress while his lips and tongue devoured.
Aden buried his left hand in Carissa’s hair, her skin tingling as his other unhooked the front clasp of her bra. When he cupped her breasts, the palm of his hand soft over her puckered nipple, she forgot all about her questions. There was nothing but the feel of them together, the life in their love, to surround her and erase the negativity of her time at the park. Tapping into her newfound strength, she reached up and tore his shirt from his body. Hooking one leg around his, she used the leverage to flip him onto his back, grinning at the shock on his face.
Carissa let Aden pull her face down for another kiss, drowning her fingers in the silkiness of his long blond hair. His hands roamed her body, stopping to grab her rear through the denim of her jeans, pushing her down, grinding his desire against her core. She moaned against his lips, and wished she had the magick to make their clothes disappear. It seemed he wished the same, for before she knew it, she was beneath him again. Quick as a blink, he removed his pants and straddled her, his fingers deftly working the button of her jeans. With a swift yank, denim and panties went flying. He nudged her legs apart, settling on his knees between them, leaving her open to his hungry gaze.
With slow hands, Aden reached between her legs, but Carissa grabbed his wrists, pulling him forward so she could lock her legs around his waist. The feel of the hard length of him pressing against her heated center had her writhing beneath him, her eyes locked on his, her legs squeezing him forward, telling him what she wanted. Her hips lifted as he grinned his wicked smile, the dimples in his cheeks flashing as he remained stubbornly still. Returning his smile, she released his wrists, her hands traveling over the muscles in his arms, over his chest, his ribs, to rest on his back.
Carissa squeezed her legs again, digging her nails lightly into his skin at the same time. He closed his eyes and moaned as she drug her fingers downward. Releasing her grip, she slid her fingers back into his hair, pulling his face toward hers. She nipped his bottom lip, drawing the fullness of it into her mouth, gently sucking until his low growl filled her ears. Aden pulled away to nuzzle her neck, scraping her teeth over skin that tingled with every move. She wriggled and whimpered, muttering half-formed pleas while he pressed against her without entering. His fangs lingered over the pulse pounding in her throat.
“Aden,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him like ivy on a tree. “Please.”
Her soft assent was all it took. His hips surged forward as his fangs broke her skin, the ecstasy of both sending her over the edge in one smooth thrust. Carissa shouted out as her body quaked, but Aden was relentless, his body pumping into hers, the crest rising higher and higher until she could swear the ceiling was made of stars. His mouth moved against her neck in time to his thrusts—in and out, over and over—they were one in time and space. Laving the wound with his tongue, he allowed his saliva to close the bite mark, pulling his face back to stare into her eyes. Her breath caught. His eyes were brighter, more electric than ever before, and suddenly he was moving in a blur, so fast her legs fell to the side, and she grabbed the comforter, hanging on as if she’d go flying if she didn’t.
Aden’s hands grabbed her waist, fingers digging in. His hips pumped faster than humanly possible, lighting her body with the sensational fire of his love. She screamed, loud and long as she shattered, the air around her falling apart in a violent storm of orgasmic emotion. With a guttural yell of his own, he followed Carissa over the edge, collapsing beside her, dragging her spent body into his arms, where they continued to shudder in pleasure, the aftermath of their lovemaking sending their hearts into overdrive.
When she could breathe again without gasping, Carissa looked up from where her head rested on his chest. She reached up to cup his cheek in her palm, the words of love on the tip of her tongue, but she was afraid to say them. Her heart screamed for her to tell him, but if she did, that would only make things harder when Ryker found her again.
She needed to find a way to keep Aden safe. Regardless of what happened to her, she would never be happy if his life was ended in the middle of it all. She traced a finger over his jaw, his full, sculpted lips. Her hand dropped to rest over his heart, still beating fast, if not faster than her own. She focused her love for him through her touch, praying he could feel what she couldn’t say.
Aden opened his eyes, and dipped his head toward hers for a gentle kiss. “I love you, Carissa.” He paused for a moment, his blue eyes almost back to their normal, Caribbean shade. “Tell me what happened.”
With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head back on his chest as she did what he asked. She didn’t leave anything out, and by the time she was finished, Aden’s body was pulled tighter than a Victorian corset. Carissa sat up and forced Aden to look at her—her bruises were nearly gone, and her face wasn’t as sore as it had been.
“I’m okay. Really. Look at me, Aden.” She spread her arms. “I wasn’t seriously hurt, and I’m here, now—safe—with you. The worst is over.”
Aden sat up beside her. With shaking fingers, he tucked wayward strands of her hair behind her ears. He gently touched the fading bruises on her left shoulder. His blue eyes met hers, cool fire burning in their icy depths. “If I ever see him, I will kill him.”
Taken aback by the intensity of his words, Carissa nodded, but didn’t say what was in her mind. Aden was o
ne man, and the lycans were many. He might get Ryker, but alone, he couldn’t take on the rest of the pack. Closing her eyes to keep him from seeing the worry, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. There would be time yet for retaliation, and right now, all she wanted was her vampire. With a gentle sigh, she straddled his lap, and spent the rest of the night forgetting everything but their love.
Chapter Thirty-Five
T rushed through the double doors of the study, coming to a rigid halt in front of the sorcerer. “I think it’s time, sir.”
The sorcerer glanced at the crystal ball that sat cloudy and useless upon his table. “It’s been three weeks of nothing. I think you’re right. Give the order. Have Garrett take the girl, and let the ceremony commence.”
“What about Aden?”
“Send Jasmine and one of Ryker’s boys after him. Make sure they use Daniel to pull Aden in. I still don’t know who’s providing them magick, but it’s strong. We need to capture Aden if we want to make sure he’s where we want him when the time comes, and I don’t want whatever sorceress they’ve got to interfere.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tensions were high, but no one had seen hide or hair of the werewolves in weeks. Carissa wanted to relax, but deep down she agreed with Aden—that was not a wise decision. She laid back in her bed with a smile. He was fiercely protective, insisting she even get the mail at night when he was with her, instead of during the day. Silly man. She laughed out loud as she thought about their latest argument. He’d insisted she wait, and she kept telling him she’d get the mail today whether he liked it or not. Of course, they’d ended the argument with no agreement and a lot of lovemaking. With a contented sigh, she stretched her limber body.
Aden was a magician in the bedroom. She’d never felt so well loved. And he told her he loved her all the time. Her happy mood fading at the thought, Carissa got out of bed and threw on a pair of blue jeans and a tank top. He was constantly trying to get her to admit how she felt, but so far, she’d been resisting—kissing him into silence, or seducing him with her body and delightful subject changes every time he brought it up. One of these nights, she was certain he’d corner her, and she wouldn’t be able to hold her silence anymore. Already, her heart was near to bursting with her love for him, but to tell him with their future suspended as it was…
Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1) Page 20
