A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1)

by Fay, Kiersten

  The girl was good. Her fabricated grim expression hadn’t faltered once. Mace was so easily duped. The moron was bonded, yet couldn’t even decipher her emotions. There had been no fear in her, but for the initial impression he’d received when Trent had threatened her life. After that, all trace of emotion in her had drained away. She’d been like a bottomless pit of emptiness.

  Heartlessness.

  Knox had been bonded only one other time, to a human girl. He recalled the sharing of emotions to be a constant irritant. An annoyance he’d been glad to be rid of. There had been no reprieve until the bond had been severed a few very long months later when the girl had been murdered.

  He clenched his fist.

  He hoped Mason’s witch did attempt to escape. If she were to die, the bond would be broken instantly. And if Trent proved to be as gullible as Mason, Knox might need to take care of things on his own. But for now, he would hold off on that route and indulge the two do-gooders who fancied their detective work.

  However, for everyone’s sake, there was something that required his immediate attention.

  “I’m heading out for a bite,” he told Trent, beating a path to the door.

  Trent ran thick fingers through his dark hair. “Good idea. I’ll join you.”

  Knox halted. “Shouldn’t you make sure that witch stays put?”

  “Mace is with her.”

  He laughed. “Lover boy is a puppet now. If she wanted, he’d carry her out on his back with two broken legs.”

  Trent shared in his revelry, then shook his head as if at a loss. “Alright. I’ll go out once you return. Don’t be long.”

  Strolling out the door, he called back, “I don’t plan on it.” It was almost too easy to convince Trent not to follow.

  Thirty minutes later, Knox hid in the shadows of an alley, waiting for his prey. Most of the town had closed down for the night. Only a few working light posts illuminated the streets in sporadic patterns, and most of those buzzed loudly and flickered. The light post that fronted his little niche was off, and had been for some time.

  The alley stank of trash and decay. A stack of black bags carved out a spot near the opposite end. It wasn’t the best part of town, but it wasn’t exactly the worst either.

  After another twenty minutes, his target finally emerged from the shop across the street, unaware of his hunter’s gaze. She turned her back, locking the shop door behind her. Then she crossed the street, taking the path she always did. This was his town, and he knew nearly everyone’s routine. She would cross his path in three, two, one…

  He whipped his arm out and snatched her around the waist. His free hand went to her mouth to prevent her building scream as he easily pulled her into the darkness and planted her against the wall. The weight of his body caged her in.

  “Hello, Saraphine,” he said.

  Her impossibly wide eyes went even wider. Yes, she recognized him. He frequented the shitty bars in this small town often to feed from one of the locals. He preferred them to the blood whores.

  He scented the sweet fragrance of Saraphine’s racing pulse, mentally cursing when he remembered that there would be no pleasure in tasting it. All other blood would be like ash in his mouth thanks to Mason’s witch.

  “You had a visitor earlier,” he said, his voice smooth. “A witch. You remember? She commissioned a spell to unbind her magic.”

  Saraphine nodded, fear wafting from her pores.

  His eyes glowed as he weaved compulsion into his next words. “You’ll proceed to craft a spell, just as you promised, but it won’t do as requested. It won’t unbind her powers. You’re young, still learning your craft. Perhaps you add the wrong ingredient, say the wrong words. What sort of mistake is yours to choose. Nod so I know you understand me.”

  Her expression blanked, and she nodded again. He contemplated taking her vein, if only for nourishment, but he knew it would not alleviate his hunger. And, at the moment, he had a mighty craving for a doe-eyed blond-haired witch.

  “Now forget you saw me and run along.” He released Saraphine and swatted her ass, sending her on her way.

  Though he’d removed her fear along with the compulsion, her natural sense of danger must be keen. Her pace was unusually swift as she headed away from him.

  * * *

  Cora came to as if from out of a fog. She found herself lying on a bed. Mace hovered over her. His concern pooled around her so thickly she didn’t need to look up to know it was written all over his face.

  “Cora?” he said as though he’d repeated it several times already.

  How long had he been chanting her name, trying to bring her back from wherever it was she’d escaped to? Her throat still burned with an inner soreness, so in response, she raised her hand to stroke her fingers along his jaw, feeling a bit of stubble. He turned his head and kissed her palm.

  “Here, take some of my blood.” He brought his wrist to his mouth, preparing to bite down.

  She shook her head. “No.” The word came out like sand paper, and she winced at the accompanying sting.

  “A small amount will heal you without any side effects.”

  “Where’s…” She trailed off when her throat closed in protest.

  Mace sliced a fang into his wrist and held it out for her. Warily, she eyed the deep red drop forming there.

  “Please, I can feel your discomfort.”

  The increased agony as she tried to swallow had her relenting after only a slight hesitation. She licked away the drop and then waited. Mace nodded for her to take more, but she shook her head. She could already feel his blood going to work, like the soothing balm of a lozenge. Yet a slight tenderness lingered. Another drop might smother it, but she didn’t want to lose herself to the lust that followed overindulgence. She told him as much, her voice coming clearer, and he withdrew his arm.

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “Downstairs,” he said. “Where were you? It felt like you weren’t even here, yet at the same time, you were.”

  She sat up and surveyed the room, verifying they were alone. The instinct to escape was intense, but she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not only would the other two stop her, maybe kill her, but Mace seemed unalarmed by their current situation. He was calm now, which meant he trusted his comrades more than he feared for her. Even if she begged for him to take her somewhere else, he would only make a case to stay.

  “I go to a place where pain doesn’t exist,” she replied. “It’s sort of like blacking out. It used to happen a lot when I was younger. When…well, anyway. I haven’t experienced it in a long time.” Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she added, “Do we need to remain here? Can we go?” Involuntarily, her hands clutched his shirt.

  He sighed and took her hands in his. “They won’t hurt you now, I promise.” He explained Trent’s misunderstanding, then added, “He’s my sire. In human terms, that’s like a patron. Our leader. And it’s his duty to protect his clan. That’s the only reason why he went after you. He thought you were controlling me.”

  “But Knox is going to kill me. He wants to. I can feel it.”

  “He won’t, though. He knows I’ll gut him if he tried. Trent would too, if only for disobeying a direct order.”

  She shook her head, disbelieving.

  “I swear to you, I won’t let them harm you again.”

  Her teeth clenched as his resolve settled over her. “You must be strong then. You should drink.” She swept her hair aside.

  Mace reared back. “I…I don’t want you to feel forced. I can manage without.”

  “I can feel your hunger.”

  “Yes, but I can feed from others.”

  “But doing so would only keep you alive. It wouldn’t satisfy you, or provide the kind of strength my blood would, correct?”

  Mace didn’t respond, which was tantamount to an affirmation.

  “So then, go ahead.” She tilted her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “You�
�re only offering because you feel obligated. That’s not how I want it.”

  As if a trap door was released, her patience left her in a rush, replaced by anger. “I don’t have a choice anymore, do I?”

  Mace frowned and sat back. They both remained silent for a tense moment.

  She sighed, tempering her anger. “I’m accepting this, Mace. Them. You. I’m accepting my lot—”

  “I don’t want you to have to accept your lot—”

  “And if I had to be bound to any vampire in the world, I’m only grateful that it was you.” She edged toward him, unabashedly straddling his lap, and settled her arms around his neck.

  His body stiffened, and he placed his palms at her waist, unconsciously snaking his thumbs under the hem of her shirt. She leaned forward and allowed her lips to brush his in a gentle kiss. It was obvious he wanted more, but he kept himself in check.

  She continued. “You said you loved me. I don’t know if you really meant it—”

  “I did.”

  She couldn’t keep a tiny grin from conquering her lips, but they quickly settled back into a frown. “I’m going to be frank with you. I’ve come to…care for you. However, love is not something I can offer right now.”

  His features turned inscrutable, but for a thinning of his lips. She truly hated that what she said now hurt him, but she had to make sure he knew where she stood.

  “What I can offer is my blood. So you can be strong. So you can protect me.”

  He grinned, but it was a bitter sight. “My little survivalist.”

  She ignored that. “And my body, because I know you want it.”

  At that, she waited for his fury to erupt. It bubbled and churned just under the surface. She waited. And waited.

  Finally, he took command of himself and drew in a deep breath. “You’d sleep with me just so I’ll protect you?”

  She jerked her head back sharply, appalled. “No. Not for that reason.” She blushed, embarrassment now overtaking her. “It was…I mean…when we…I…”

  His grin became genuine, instantly placated by the rambling, convoluted confession that only two people in the world could fully understand because they were blood bonded. “You enjoyed yourself, did you?”

  She rolled her eyes, smiling too wide. “Don’t tease me.”

  “Why not? You light up when I do.”

  “I do not—”

  He cut her off with a sudden kiss. A demanding kiss that rendered her earlier one amateurish.

  When he pulled away to speak, his voice had become guttural. “You care for me, huh? I guess I can live with that, for now. But one day, I’ll take your heart, along with your body.”

  He flipped her to the mattress, hunching over her as he claimed her mouth with rough abandon. He wedged himself between her legs before he ripped the fabric of her sweats straight in half down the middle.

  A little bit of unease melted through the heat of her passion. “Mace?”

  His smile was wicked. “Guess you’ll not be wearing these again. Good thing I thought to provide you some clothing.” He eyed her white button-down shirt. “You can keep that. I like you in it.”

  His sudden aggression was alarming at first, till she recognized where it came from. It was more natural for vampires to behave this way. Mace had been modulating himself around her from the start. Caging his urges for her. Now she had all but set him free, offered herself up to his inhuman appetites.

  And she wasn’t afraid.

  She tugged at his shirt, wanting it off him. He obliged, shrugging out of it and tossing it aside. She ran her hands over the planes and valleys that made up the tightly packed muscles of his torso. They contracted for her in a vision of perfect masculinity.

  As she allowed her fingers to play, he methodically unbuttoned her shirt, starting at the top. He must truly like this particular piece of menswear on her to take such care with it now.

  After setting it aside, he dipped his head to press his lips to hers, his tongue demanding rather than asking for access. While he delved deep into the recesses of her mouth, his right palm caressed its way over her thigh and up her side to softly tease the underside of her breast. She moaned at the sensation, her skin warming with need.

  His hand cupped her chest and applied a delectable pressure. Then his mouth left hers to capture her nipple instead. Her body shook as she hissed out a whimper, arching.

  She heard the sound of his belt being loosened, and another rush of heat flooded her lower regions. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought she’d taken more than a drop of his blood, but she couldn’t use that as an excuse this time. This time the frenzied lust was all hers.

  As Mace rid himself of his jeans, she shoved her panties down, kicking them away. He entered her with a savage thrust, exquisite in its glorious carnality. In the back of her mind, she was surprised by her own ferocity, her eagerness for his voracious taking. To submit in every way and let him dominate as she knew he craved.

  His hips drove into her with rough abandon, and she was bewildered by the ecstasy rippling through her, the sweltering bliss that numbed her mind like nothing she’d ever felt.

  It was rapturous but for one small detail. Not having his fangs in her was a new kind of anguish, one that had never before tormented her till this moment. She couldn’t think past the need to rectify the situation. Without realizing what she was doing, she heard herself pleading with Mason, begging, presenting her neck.

  From somewhere deep within him, from the part of him that was purely-forged instinct, a growl ripped free. Then his fangs penetrated her taut skin. She cried out as every nuance in her body soared to the heavens, so high she didn’t think she would ever return to earth again.

  * * *

  Mace glanced down at Cora curled into his side. Her eyes drooped languidly, yet she smiled up at him, as though pleased. He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t feel it for himself. Or if she had taken more of his blood earlier. But she actually was content, sated, maybe even a little happy.

  He allowed that thought to overrule his apprehensions, though he couldn’t block them out completely. He’d believed it when she told him she cared about him. And he respected that she confessed to only that much rather than professing undying love and attempting to play him for a fool. But she still only accepted him because she felt she had no other choice.

  To her, it was him or death.

  Needless to say, he was of two minds about it. Well, more like mind and body. He’d lost himself in her sweet flesh and even sweeter blood, allowing himself to go mindless while reinforcing their bond by taking her blood into him. She had matched his carnal demands avidly and given him everything he’d wanted.

  Almost everything.

  He’d win her heart if it took him a thousand years to do so.

  Her brow rose at his possessive sentiment.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  He ran the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “How beautiful you look.”

  “Liar.” She smiled.

  When first she had offered him her body, acidic rage had nearly eroded away reason. That she would debase herself like that—when she had gone her entire life without resorting to such desperate acts—riled something in him that he couldn’t describe.

  But then that touching coyness, that lovely flush that spread over her cheeks as she’d tried to explain, had relieved all his animosity as swiftly as water through a drain.

  She might not love him yet, but a part of her wanted him desperately. He had to remind himself that they’d only been together a few short days. She merely needed time to sort out her feelings. After all, he’d had months to decipher his.

  Her gaze turned suspicious, and he changed the subject. “You must be starving. When was the last time you ate?” He glanced around for some leftover fruit. When he turned back, her expression had fallen. “What is it?”

  Chapter 25

  “I don’t want to go down there.” Cora fidgeted ner
vously at the top of the stairs wishing she had lied about the problem with her appetite. Anxiety crept up her spine. At Mason’s look, she said, “He’s down there.”

  The moment she’d left the sanctity of their room, the deplorable situation crashed down around her again, and she was instantly ill at ease.

  Trent won’t harm you.” Mace held out his hand to her, palm up.

  “I don’t mean Trent.”

  Mace pursed his lips. “You’re talking about Knox?”

  She nodded.

  “You can sense him, huh?” Mace sounded disgruntled.

  She nodded again. “A little. Not like you.”

  “Just keep near me. We need to find out from Trent what might be going on with your appetite.”

  “You can do that. You don’t need me there.”

  “I’d like to prove to you that you’re safe. And anyway, Trent won’t want to speak to you through me.” He held out his hand.

  She sighed, gathering her courage. After a few calming breaths, she set her hand in his.

  Downstairs, Knox relaxed on one of the couches, the bottom of his booted foot perched on the edge of the coffee table. He watched them descend, his features hardening.

  Mace lifted his chin. “Where’s Trent?”

  “Hunting, I suppose,” Knox replied curtly, then transferred his hateful gaze to her. “Not that I care. I’ve got a mighty hunger occupying my mind.”

  She edged closer to Mace, turning her eyes down.

  “Don’t,” Mace whispered to her. “Submission encourages dominance. Keep your head up.”

  She began to tremble at his suggestion. By her experience, behaving otherwise brings the pain.

  He turned her to him, faking an embrace as he lifted her chin with a concealed hand and said into her ear, “Keep your eyes on his, no matter what.”

  She swallowed the thick lump of dread that had formed in her throat just as Mace released her. She forced her chin to remain in the air when all it wanted to do was sink down. And for the first time in her life, her eyes sought to capture the gaze of a hostile vampire. It felt wrong in every way imaginable, but she did it.