But Melody did nothing of the sort.
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes flashing cruelly. “It is not so easy, Kane Sullivan, to break a vow of love. A vow that has lasted over one hundred years. I will not forget this betrayal. And, in time, you will wish you had not done this.”
And then in one, fluid motion, she turned and climbed back up the staircase so quickly, that I jumped out of my skin. She contorted her limbs and climbed up the staircase like a spider, dragging her dress after her, the crimson thing flowing upward like blood gone wrong.
In a moment, Melody was gone, but her darkness lingered in the air for a handful of breaths as I stood there, stunned. Melody had just threatened Kane.
…But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered in that scrap of a moment. Because we stood together, Kane and I.
Kane still held tightly to my wrist, like she was never going to let it go.
And, it dawned on me as I stared down at her cold fingers wrapped around my skin, that she wouldn’t have to, ever again.
Kane had told Melody it was over.
I glanced up into Kane’s face, at the war of emotions that raged just beneath the surface of her cold skin. Her eyes were dark, and when they gazed into mine, they didn’t see me, not really, not for a long moment.
But then she came back to me. And another tear traced itself down Kane’s cheek as she stepped forward quickly, wrapping her hands around my waist, drawing me to her like we were one creature, not two.
When I breathed out into the darkness of that hallway, my breath hung between us like smoke. I inhaled again, inhaling the scent that was Kane, the cigarettes and the jasmine and vanilla and unnamable spice that clung to her cold skin. I stared up into those violently blue eyes, those eyes that held me and only me in that moment. Her gaze was fierce and predatory and wholly mine as she pinned me to the spot with eyes so blue that I drowned in them.
“Forgive me,” said Kane, then, and she leaned down gracefully, and in a heartbeat I could never have predicted, her mouth met mine.
-- Eternal Game --
Kane tasted like fire, a fire that burns like ice. I lifted my chin, kissing her back fiercely, my hands wrapped around the curves of her waist so tightly that—if she wasn’t a vampire—I’d be afraid of bruising her.
But this moment didn’t seem real. And by gripping her hips, by pressing my fingers hard into her body, into her flesh, I was trying to ground myself in the reality of the situation, of the moment.
Because how could this possibly be happening? Kane was kissing me with such fierceness, such passion, and I’d dreamed of moments like this, yes. But I couldn’t have imagined it ever happening to me again.
I didn’t want to think anymore. I was done thinking, done worrying, done second-guessing myself, done with dreaming.
I was done with everything but feeling.
And, my God, I was feeling a lot.
Kane’s hand was at the back of my neck, gently cupped against my skin, her fingers so cold against me as they twined in my hair, as she slowly reached up, drifting her fingers across the nape of my neck, that goosebumps rose along my skin, and I took a deep breath, holding her closer, harder. She touched me like I was something fragile, like this moment between us was something fragile. Like everything could break.
But I’d already broken. I’d already broken into the smallest pieces when Anna died, and again when Kane said she had feelings for me…and then chose Melody over me. I’d broken, and I’d put myself back together again.
I was done being broken.
I gripped her even harder, tightening my fingers at the curve of her waist beneath her dress shirt. We were standing right by the empty front desk of the Sullivan Hotel, and though there was no one in the entryway or lobby or corridors, this was still hardly a private location. But I didn’t care. I'd waited long enough, and that meant that this moment was all I had—so I was going to make the most of it. My body moved on pure instinct alone as I tugged up on her shirt, drawing it out from the waistband of her suit pants, and then my warm fingers were pressed against the cool smoothness of her back, the sculpted lines of her belly.
Someone told me recently that vampires retain the body they had the day they were made into vampires. Branna had told me how hard she and Kane worked back in Ireland, tilling the fields and making a life for their families. Kane’s muscles, hard beneath my fingertips, belied an intense hardship and struggle for life, not countless days at the gym.
I kissed Kane, and I reveled in those muscles, tracing circles across them, hooking my fingers into the waistband of her suit pants. The intensity of her kiss brightened just then, quickening, and when I gasped against her, when I drew back a little, I looked up at her wet lips, at her darkened eyes, darkened with hunger, with need, and I knew that she felt everything I did. That she wanted this as much as I did.
Which was more than I’d ever wanted anything before.
Kane’s fingers were wrapped gently around the back of my neck, and I winced a little as her thumb traced over my healing wounds there, right at the curve of my neck and shoulder. They weren’t overly large wounds but two deep pinpricks that Mags had given me, only a few days ago. Kane breathed out at my tension, staring down at the wounds, then flicking her gaze up to my eyes, her brow furrowed with worry.
“Does it hurt?” she whispered, her voice low, gruff, as she stroked the pad of her thumb down the side of my neck, away from the hurt. I shivered beneath her touch, the entire focus of my being in her fingertips and where those fingertips met my skin.
“Only a little,” I told her truthfully, then reached up, placing my hand on top of hers, and pressing her hand down against my skin so that her cool palm went flat upon me. She put her head to the side, watching me closely. “It’s nothing to worry about… It’s well on its way to being healed.” I licked my lips, shifted my weight back into my heels; then I reached up and wrapped my arms tightly around her neck, pulling her down to me so that our foreheads brushed against one another, so that she closed her eyes, breathing out, her nostrils flaring, as she slowly, gently, breathed me in. “It…it doesn’t matter,” is what I whispered to her then, my voice strained, breaking on the last few words. I took a deep breath, I stared up into her bright blue eyes, and I whispered to her the truth. My truth. “I need you.”
Kane stiffened beneath my hands, and her already dark eyes gazed down into mine with such bright ferocity in that moment that I was undone by it. Her breathing was already fast, but when her beautiful, wet mouth parted then, when she breathed out, when she drew me to her with such strength, so that the front of my body was pressed hard against her, I lost any last semblance of self control I’d heaped upon myself these past few days working at the Sullivan Hotel.
I gripped her hips roughly, I curled my fingers at the back of her neck, and I drew her down to me for a wild kiss. And then I repeated it, the truth, breathing it out into the stillness between us. “I need you,” I told her, my voice a low growl. “I need you right now.”
I’d waited patiently. I’d believed that it was over between us, the blossoming, unfurling thing that we’d started one night on the beach… Had it only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime had already passed since that first kiss, my heels sinking into the sand, her hands gentle on my hips as she drew me to her gently—again, as if I could break. But, again, I’d already been broken. I’d dealt with my broken heart, and I’d moved on, or at least I kidded myself into believing I had, after that night. But it was impossible, “moving on.”
Because it was always Kane for me. It had always been Kane, always would be Kane. I had never been drawn to anyone or anything like her in my entire life, and I’d never known it could be like this. That I could feel the connection between us, unfurling like light, a string I could actually feel wrapped around my heart snugly, connected to hers. No matter how far apart we were, I felt it.
No matter how far apart we were, I felt her.
Kane’s breathing
was ragged as she glanced up, past me, down the corridor of paintings in front of us that led away from the front desk and the entrance to the Sullivan Hotel. She seemed to be weighing something in her head, because she also glanced at one of the leather couches in the entryway, as if that might be the best option. But she appeared to make up her mind then.
“Come on,” she said, and her voice was still gruff as she threaded my arm through hers, turning and starting down the corridor of paintings, toward the eventual staircase at the end of it.
Though Kane’s legs were longer than mine, I didn’t struggle to keep up. I actually set the pace, pulling her along, glancing over my shoulder with my heart in my throat, my heart that was pumping blood through me at a speed that should probably make me dead. When I glanced back at Kane, I saw the darkness in her eyes. I saw the corners of her mouth turn up, just slightly, but it was almost impossible to tell what she was thinking. She’d gone internal, like she was thinking about something, weighing something heavily, and I didn’t want her to think anymore, either.
We’d done enough thinking, enough rationalizing, for an entire lifetime.
We both needed to feel now. Feel each other. Come down from our heads and hearts into our bodies, and experience each other on a purely physical level.
I pulled her up the staircase, moving quickly, and she was right behind me. I could hear her breathing, could hear the movement of her clothing against her skin, the soft shush of her white-gold hair falling over her shoulder and behind her, down her back like a waterfall. I could feel her other hand at the inward curve of my waist, at my hip…even against my ass as she touched me as we moved. They were light touches, her fingers brushing against me in something you could almost think of as an accident. But her movements were not accidental, and when we got to the floor where the Sullivans had their bedrooms, she pulled me up, stopping me.
I turned, wondering, but I didn’t get a chance to ask her anything, because she watched me carefully, her eyes narrowed, as she curled her fingers at my hips and she pressed me up against the wall beside the staircase landing. She gripped me fiercely, her hips pressing against my own with her full weight, and when she bent her beautiful head, her hair falling over her shoulder again as her mouth fit itself at the curve of my jaw and neck, she kissed me so fiercely there that—for a heartbeat—I kind of wondered if she was going to bite me.
This being with a vampire thing…it was kind of new. Sexy, definitely. God, definitely. But, also, there was the constant knowledge in the back of my head that the woman who was drawing her mouth in a cold, searing trail of kisses down my neck had teeth that could puncture my skin without a moment's warning. Her teeth were so sharp, in fact, that I might not even feel it until afterward, the slices in my skin leaking blood, and her mouth there, drinking me up, her tongue laving my neck as she swallowed it down.
But here’s the thing about Kane: I trusted her. I trusted her with my very life. Hadn’t she just saved my life, saved my life multiple times in the days I’d lived here at the Sullivan Hotel? Yes, I trusted her. I trusted her enough that I tilted my head back against the wall, exposing more of my neck to her, closing my eyes as she traced her cool tongue across my skin, shuddering a little against her palms as she pressed my hips harder against the wall. I could feel the fabric of my skirt inching up my thighs, and we were right out there in the corridor, and it was only early evening. Anyone could have come by at that moment as I wrapped my arms around her neck, urging her to be harder, quicker…less delicate.
Yes, I wanted her. I wanted her so deeply, so profoundly, that my entire body pulsed with that want, moving through me quicker than blood.
“Come,” she murmured then, her mouth against my skin as she breathed that single word, growling it against my body like an invitation. She straightened, standing, her eyes so dark that they were almost black as she gazed down into my face, her mouth open, parted, her breath coming even faster, as she practically panted, trying to compose herself. But there was no time for that. She pushed off from the wall and bit her lip as she tugged on my hand, pulling me after her, and leading me, now, down the wide corridor. The floor beneath us was the black-and-red tile, so signature of the Sullivan Hotel, and along the two walls stretching out on either side of us stood the tall, ornamented wooden doors that led to the bedrooms of the vampires.
As we passed by Tommie’s door, a small, silver plaque beside the door bearing the inscription in cursive, “T. Sullivan,” I gave a little involuntary shiver. I’d stayed there just last night, in Tommie’s arms. Just last night, I’d felt Tommie’s fingers against my skin… I took a deep breath as we passed by the door, and I couldn’t help wondering where was Tommie right then. Gwen had been hurt in the accident—was it a mere hour ago now?—and Tommie had volunteered to take her to the doctor in town, because Tommie was wonderful like that. Tommie had told me to wait in her room for her, that I’d be safe there after everything that had happened, after the two vampires had tried to kill both Gwen and me… But here and now, it was Kane who was leading me down the corridor, leading me past Tommie’s room, continuing on, her hand confident and cold in my own as she gripped me tightly.
I couldn’t help it. At that moment, when I blinked, I saw Anna, holding me and touching me, kissing me and smiling at me. When I closed my eyes, I saw Tommie’s bright green eyes, her sly smile and her hopeful voice. My heart ached for a long moment, and it was only right. It had been a long time since Anna, but she was still a part of me, would always be a part of me. And Tommie… She’d helped me when I’d had no one else. There would always be a part of my heart, even if it was a small part, that cared for her fiercely.
But those thoughts came into my head and heart, and then they slowly eased out of me, the tension draining from me, my past pain felt and heard…and now no longer required. It was just Kane and me in the hallway, and the shadows of sadness and ache inside of me would always remain.
But I didn’t need to feel them right now.
So my heart ached, but in the few heartbeats I had between Tommie’s door and Kane’s, the latter one being just as tall and ornamented and imposing as the others, with a little plaque beside it elegantly reading “K. Sullivan,” I knew I had to push all thoughts of Tommie out of my head and heart. We had gone on a few dates these past days, but we weren’t dating, the two of us. Not yet.
It was a cowardly distinction, and there was going to be hell to pay because of this, and I was going to cause Tommie immense pain, just as I knew I would… I’d known that, somehow, someway, someone was going to get hurt because of all of this.
But right there and then, after wanting so much, after being hurt so much, after fixing my own broken heart and rising again…there was nothing I wanted more than Kane Sullivan.
Come what may.
Kane and I walked together, side by side, hands clasped dearly, until we reached Kane’s door. She paused in front of it, not looking at the impressive wooden thing but glancing back at me as she reached out toward the door. It opened beneath the touch of her hand. I guess vampires probably really never felt the need to lock their doors.
We stepped over the threshold, Kane and I, and then I simply glanced at her. She’d dropped my hand once we were in her room, and she had her hands at her suit jacket collar, straightening it…but then my hands were covering her own, and I was pushing Kane against the wall beside the door while I clumsily toed the door shut, the thing banging hard, sending a reverberation throughout the quiet floor.
We were finally, blessedly, alone. Just the two of us.
My mouth was at her throat, kissing the chill skin there, my hands at the lapel of her jacket, pushing it down around her shoulders, pulling it off of her. It fell into an unceremonious heap beside us on the floor, but I was no longer paying attention to the discarded garment—my fingers were at the top button of her dress shirt, pulling the fine tie loose from its tight knot at her neck.
Kane’s mouth was open, and she was breathing quickly, her p
upils dilated, her irises—usually so blue, so bright—were dark enough that I was beginning to wonder if the irises had disappeared entirely, or if they were really black now. There was a little light in the room, though what it was coming from I wasn’t certain (and I wasn’t really interested in her decorating tastes at the moment), but there was enough light to see that Kane’s eyes had changed completely.
A thrill ran through me as I pulled the knot of her tie loose, pulling the tie completely undone. The satin fabric slid like water beneath my fingers as I left it hanging, undone and open, around her neck, and then watching her carefully, I reached up my fingers to her stiff collar, touching that first fine button. And then I undid it, shivering against her. My hips were pressed tightly against her own, my fingers shaking a little as the shiver moved through me—but then she was reaching up, covering my hands…and pausing them.
I glanced up at her, worried I’d done something wrong, worried that the moment had come and gone, and that somehow, impossibly, every good thing that had just happened these last few moments had been reversed. I couldn’t have predicted this, any of this, so I certainly couldn’t predict what would happen next.
But there was nothing dire. There was no Melody opening the door, stopping us. There was nothing that stood between Kane and me except a little bit of clothing.
Kane cleared her throat, shook her head a little. “Would you like a drink?” she asked me then, her voice low and dark and wanting.
“No,” I told her then, and I meant it. She stared down at me in surprise, but I was already shaking my head. “I don’t want a drink,” I whispered to her, threading my fingers through hers. She held my hands tightly over her heart and that first beautiful undone button of her shirt. “I don’t want anything but you,” I whispered.
Trusting Eternity (The Sullivan Vampires, Volume 2 Page 12
