Cora offered an astounded look at the ease with which they’d pulled off the maneuver. Then she faced the road, eyes narrowed in determination, and slammed the pedal to the floor. The car jerked forward as if pulled by invisible cables.
“Try not to get us killed,” Mace instructed.
To his surprise, she laughed. Either she was losing her mind, or the stress was getting to her.
Mace swiveled around to squeeze off several rounds at the truck. The driver ducked just in time to avoid a forehead bullseye. The passenger leaned out the window, brandishing the shotgun. He cocked it and aimed low, going for the tires.
“Swerve, now!” Mace yelled to Cora.
She did and the bullet took a chunk out of the aged asphalt on the road, sending the shattered debris flying. Mace aimed for the truck’s engine and fired several more shots. The truck didn’t slow. The outside might say piece of shit, but Mace suspected there was some real power under that hood.
“Fucking rednecks.”
“Ah-ha!” Cora cried. Her expression twisted into something excitable.
Mason’s bewilderment turned to anxiousness when he saw they were approaching a T intersection at almost seventy-five with a solid brick wall cutting their path short. Instead of easing off the gas, she sped up.
“Cora? What are you doing?”
“Hold on.” Mere feet from the turn, she transferred her foot to the brake as she yanked the wheel to the left.
The car listed sideways, skidding loudly. The scent of burning rubber seared his nostrils.
Mace looked to his right, watching grey bricks rush toward him. At the last second, the car hooked, fishtailed, and then pitched forward in their new direction…nearly at speed. He looked back at the truck, which spewed smoke from the wheels as the driver slammed on the brakes. He hadn’t acted soon enough and the front end of the vehicle crunched through the wall, bringing the truck to a drastic stop. The truck’s bed settled off kilter with one wheel still spinning wildly.
Mace turned to Cora credulously.
She chortled at his expression. “Winston loved to race cars. He took me and his friends to the track all the time. I thought you’d’ve known that.”
Mace put the Glock back in the glove compartment. “He paid a shit-load of money to rent it out privately. I couldn’t get in without drawing unwanted attention.”
“Oh. Well, it was exhilarating. I almost beat him a couple times, too,” she preened, and then hit the gas again.
Mace smiled and leaned back in his chair to take her in. The sun was just starting to dip in the sky, and it gilded her blonde hair with an ethereal glow. Her face was flush with excitement, her smile radiant. Not for the first time, he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, blushing at his scrutiny. “What?”
“You are unlike anyone I know.”
“’Cause I’m a witch,” she joked sardonically.
“You are a witch. And no, that’s not why.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Could she truly not know? How would that be possible? True, she hadn’t used magic in all the time he’d watched her. Not that he could tell anyway. But then, witches thrived by keeping to the shadows and staying inconspicuous.
He changed the subject. “Why were you angry earlier?”
Her mouth slipped into a frown. “I don’t know. Vamp feeding on a human. Guess I just freaked.”
“It was more than that. You were throwing off some serious pheromones.”
She gasped. “What?”
“Possessiveness, jealousy, aggression. Do you see me as yours, Cora?” He teased. “Didn’t like another woman touching me?”
“In your dreams, vampire.”
“True.”
Astonished eyes left the road for a second, searching him for a sign of humor. She swallowed, finding none. Her sweet scent changed to something like apprehension.
He frowned. “I was thinking of you, you know.”
She didn’t respond, but her fingers tightened around the wheel.
“I was imagining it was your body against mine, your scent all around me, your sweet blood giving me strength.”
He could hear her heart speed up, and once more her scent changed…to arousal.
He stifled another smile at that. As he’d taken sustenance from that waitress, he’d imagined running his hand through sandy-blond, sun-kissed hair instead of dull, rusty brown. Imagined placing light kisses on Cora’s neck till he had her begging for his bite. Rolling his pelvis against her core as she wrapped her lean legs around him.
The waitress’s blood had tasted no better than motor oil compared to Cora’s.
The scent of Cora’s desire coated the vehicle’s interior, causing his shaft to stiffen in response.
In a thick voice, he asked, “Would you have liked that?
Her hands tightened around the steering wheel. “No!”
Yes! Cora’s mind corrected. She stifled a shiver as sudden warmth enveloped her.
“No?” Mace sounded surprised, and maybe a little disappointed.
But he was merely teasing her, right? Of course, because she knew he could scent her pheromones right now. She might as well have a ginormous In Heat sign flashing above her head.
Her cheeks flushed.
Stealthily, she glanced at him without turning her head. He was staring at her as though a bit confounded.
Not more confounded by me than I am.
His words had forced her to imagine herself as he’d described: folded in his strong arms, the vein in her neck presented.
A thrumming, almost like an electric current, raced through her body, so overwhelming, she had to use all her willpower to keep from pulling off the road and throwing herself onto his lap, crotch first.
Unconsciously, her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and she squirmed in her seat.
Mace grunted. “You can’t lie to yourself for much longer.”
“You think I’m lying?”
“I know you are.”
“Well, you can think whatever you want, but I’m nobody’s blood bag.”
“That’s a derogatory term. I’d never use it to describe the women I’m with.”
“Women. As in the plural?” She snorted. “Well, just sign me right up.”
“Don’t be petty.”
“I’m not being petty.” I am totally being petty. “Besides, you’re calling me petty when your woman back there just tried to get us killed because she wasn’t satisfied.”
“She’s not my woman, she was just—”
“A blood bag?”
Mace glared at her for long while. “You’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll stop flirting with you.”
That hadn’t been the plan, but thankfully her anger had helped to siphon away some of her lust.
“Even though you like it,” he added in a slightly roughened tone.
“I do not.” I so do. She mentally shook that away, reminding herself that Mace was a vampire. A dangerous, sexy, dangerous vampire.
“Pull over,” Mace ordered.
She tensed. “Why?”
“We’re getting close to our turnoff. From there, the way to the safe house is windy, and I don’t want to have to call out directions.”
“Oh.” She eased the car onto the side of the road and put the car in park. As she got out, she gauged which direction Mace would walk, and as he headed around the front, she started toward the back.
Before she made it a couple steps, his body pinned her against the car.
She gasped, going stiff. Yet he made no other move. She forced her eyes up, meeting his gaze. His expression was softer than she’d expected.
“I wasn’t saying those things to be cruel, Coraline, or to make you uncomfortable.” His tone was gravely. The steel of his erection pressed against her lower belly.
She fought a renewed wave of desire.
“I said them because you turn
me on so fucking much, and I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
Her mouth dropped open. That infernal heat was back, full-force between her legs, this time dulling her mind. His eyes dipped to her lips, and she knew he was about to kiss her. Adrenalin flushed through her system, bringing with it cognition in the form of a pathetically tiny voice. “Mace, I’m scared.”
“I know, baby. I don’t want to scare you.” He offered a crooked smile. “But you ruined my meal back there, and as detestable as that meal was, I think you owe me a boon.”
“W-What do I owe?” Her mind turned to ravaged flesh and flowing blood. Her heart sped.
“A kiss,” he said.
Though her body relaxed, her heart kept pace as fear was replaced by anticipation.
His eyes turned dark with lust, indicating he might want much more than just a kiss.
Her rebellious brain screamed, I do too! She had to get control of herself. “A regular kiss?”
He nodded.
“T-That’s it?”
“For now.”
She swallowed, finding no moisture in her throat. “Okay.”
His hand slipped to her nape, and she struggled to breathe evenly.
He dipped his head, and their lips came into contact like a brand searing flesh—hot and, she feared, a little permanent. Nobody kissed like Mace. He was the example to which all other males should be measured. His tongue expertly delved past her lips even though she hadn’t planned on letting him in. His body was like warm pliable steel folded around her, making her aware of every corded muscle.
Instantly lost, she opened her mouth wider for him, and he growled with pleasure, taking the invitation. The feel of his tongue on hers caused a jolt that traveled straight to her clitoris. She let out a soft moan.
Determined not to be totally overtaken by the moment, she swirled her tongue in step with his, matching his every wicked thrust. A strong hand palmed her backside, giving an appreciative squeeze. His hips rolled forward, managing to stimulate her through her…panties?
Her skirt had somehow gotten hiked up past her upper thighs, and Mason’s hand kneaded the soft flesh of her ass.
She pulled her head away and gasped for air. “This is more than a kiss.”
“Not one of my kisses,” he growled and claimed her mouth again, this time a little more urgently, a little more brutally, a little more perfectly.
Holy goddess, he could make her orgasm just with his tongue in her mouth.
The sound of honking interrupted them, and they both looked to see a car approaching. The young passengers laughed and leered at them as the car zoomed by, kicking up a fine cloud of dirt from the road.
Cora coughed as she worked to catch her breath. Then she noticed her fingers were digging into Mason’s shoulders, and one of her legs was curled up by his hip.
She hurried to right her clothing.
Mace stepped back, his expression smug.
“Does that make you feel macho?” She turned to continue her trek around the car.
Mace slapped her lightly on the ass. “No, but that does.” At her glare, he added, “I changed my mind. You’re driving.” With that, he reclaimed the passenger seat, leaving her dumfounded and fuming…and desperately wanting more.
Chapter 11
It soon became clear why Mason wanted her to drive. He wanted to continue flirting with her without any distractions. As he navigated, his voice dropped a couple of octaves and it made everything he said sound overtly sexy, even when telling something as simple as make a right here. It kept her off guard having to keep an eye on the road while contending with his every remark.
Aside from that, having her in the driver seat gave him leave to study her continuously. Having his eyes on her was almost physical, especially when he lowered them to examine her legs as she applied pressure to the gas or brakes, which he did regularly. It was both unnerving and titillating. The urge to take her hands from the wheel and tug down the hem of her skirt affected her often.
“You handle this vehicle masterfully,” he commented after he directed her onto a dirt road banked by thick trees that screened out the setting sun. “I wonder what else you are able to handle so well.”
She was inclined to believe he did it on purpose, but she wouldn’t call him on it just to have him accuse her of being the one with a dirty mind.
What was worse than Mace coming on to her? Some rebellious part of her had taken over her vocal cords and was countering his every remark. “Oh, I can handle just about anything I get my hands on.”
He grinned. “I’ve no doubt you’ll demonstrate that for me later.”
She stifled a flustered gasp. “Sorry, all demonstrations have been canceled until further notice.”
“I have a feeling something will pop up.”
Of their own accord, her lips curled upward. She forced a frown, but Mace noticed.
Torture by way of thick, husky voice and sexual innuendo; that was his plan.
And she was enjoying it.
A vamp was teasing her, and she was actually responding in kind? A vamp had kissed her, thoroughly, brutally, carnally, and she had kissed him back with equal fervor.
Was she mad?
How had things flipped on her so quickly?
“You’re going to have to handle your own demonstrations for the time being,” she responded, determined to keep her head.
The dirt road shallowed into something more of a trail. She eased off the gas slightly.
“Oh, I’m not one to work alone,” Mace replied. “I prefer to have a helping hand.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I bet you’d be quite proficient at it if you gave it a shot. Taking charge might even help to stroke your poor neglected ego.”
“It’s not my ego that needs stroking.”
Cora swallowed. The innocent banter was moving uncomfortably toward something transparently tawdry. She attempted to derail the conversation. “Tell me more about this witch theory of yours.”
From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him frown. “It’s not a theory. DNA tests confirm you’re part of an ancient line of witches.”
DNA? “I thought Trent was only checking for dark cells in my blood.”
“At first, yes. But when he found such an abundance of dark cells, he ordered further testing.”
“Alright. So when you say witch, you mean, like, a religion or something. Another word for gypsies, maybe? My family did travel a lot.” The road took a wide turn and then crossed over a shallow stream.
“How is it you don’t know any of this?” Mace asked. “Your parents never told you about your heritage?”
She shook her head.
“You sure they were your biological—”
“Of course,” she interrupted irritably. “I mean…I’m pretty sure.” Doubt suddenly plastered her mind and she slumped. “They must have been,” she finished lamely.
“Doesn’t matter. Something isn’t right about your situation. That’s for sure. I’ve never heard of a witch being born without some innate magical tendencies. Your powers should have come to fruition long ago.” He gestured to the busted back window. “And no witch, no matter how inept, would have tolerated a shotgun blast practically up the rear.”
“Have you ever seen a so-called witch use actual magic?”
His expression answered for him. “I was at a club a few years back, you know, one of those vamp-friendly blood donor joints. There was this attractive girl in tight black leather dress that showed more skin than it covered. Sleek blonde hair. Great eyes. Just my type. Smelled enticing.”
Cora gritted her teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter, concentrating hard on the road.
“You look fiercely agitated, Cora. Something bothering you?” He sounded amused.
“Nope, just trying to stay on the road.” And fighting back a wicked case of jealousy! What is that about?
Mace chuckled. “Anyway, I solicited her. She was in the donor section of the club after al
l. But she wasn’t having it. I ended up being slammed through a wall, just like our redneck friends in the truck back there, but without the armored shell. When I looked up to see which bruiser had pile-drived me sideways—it couldn’t have been that wee thing—she vanished before my eyes.”
“That’s all circumstantial. She could’ve been really strong, and then you could have been blinded by a light or something and just imagined she’d vanished.”
“Unnaturally strong. I’ll agree to that, if she had touched me. But she hadn’t laid a single finger on me, and neither had anyone else. As for a light blinding me? I know what I saw. Being tossed like a ragdoll by a creature that wouldn’t weigh a hundred pounds sopping wet tends to stick in your mind.”
Cora’s brow furrowed. “A creature?”
“Witches are not human. Well, not fully.”
She snorted. “So you believe I’m not even human?”
“Don’t sound so offended. Being human isn’t all that. I know from personal experience, and I don’t recommend it. They die too easily, get sick, can barely heal a paper cut on their own. If you have some claim to the supernatural, embrace it and milk it for all it’s worth, I say.”
Cora went quiet. Supernatural? Inhuman? Creature? She didn’t feel like any of those things. There must be some sort of mistake. More likely, her blood sample had somehow been tainted, or tampered with. “I don’t know if I trust that blood test. I need a second opinion.”
“Agreed.”
Cora’s head snapped toward him. “Really?”
“You were expecting an argument? I’d like to be sure as well. Especially since you’ve displayed no magical abilities whatsoever.” He pointed ahead. “Slow down, there’s another turn coming up.”
She made a left onto an even more compact pathway with a rocky terrain and thick overgrowth. She had to push the car along at a whopping two miles an hour for fear of bottoming out on a sharp rock or dip. As they went, low branches scratched loudly along the side of the car. Cortez’s paint job would be screwed at this rate. Mace didn’t seem concerned.
“As soon as we’re settled, I’ll report to Trent and have him send someone trustworthy to gather another sample.”
A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) Page 11
