by Nina Bangs
Blythe had never been a huge fan of protective men, but tonight, in this time and place, she thought one particular super alpha male was pretty special.
"Explain the directions to me, Blythe, and I will take care of Thrain." He stared at his friend. "Ye understand that ye dinna need to be tempted by a woman's closeness when ye are not yourself."
Thrain only nodded.
A short time later, it was finished, and Blythe knew she needed to get away from the room, away from these men, away from the trauma of this night. "I'll dispose of the polluted blood and—"
"No, ye have done enough. Thrain will sleep in my bed, and I will protect it. No one will be able to reach him, and he willna be able to leave the bed." He smiled at Thrain. "Do ye feel any different?"
Thrain glanced at Darach and Blythe, then smiled.
"The blood lust has lessened, and my mind seems clearer."
Blythe watched the tension slowly drain from Darach. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as Thrain walked over to Darach's bed and lay down.
"I need some fresh air. I'll be back in a little while." Blythe didn't wait for Darach to reply. She just grabbed her shawl and fled the room. A hundred bittyfluffs chittered with joy as she closed the door behind her. "Hey, guys, let's go look at the moon."
When she reached the battlements, she simply sat down with her back against the wall and stared at the moon. Then she cried. Loudly, messily, interspersed with gasps for air so that she could cry some more. No delicate weeping for her.
Blythe was barely aware when Darach sat down beside her, shooed the bittyfluffs away, then pulled her against his side. He didn't try to stop her tears, which was a good thing, because this crying business was serious stuff. Finally, she felt that she had cried her total lifetime's supply of tears, so she tapered off to a few sniffles. Then she wiped her eyes with her shawl.
"I'm sorry, Blythe. Ye shouldna have seen what ye did tonight. Ye're upset, and 'tis my fault." He pulled her head against his shoulder.
She looked up at him, and in the moonlight her eyes still shimmered with tears. "Upset? I'm not upset. And I'm not crying for me."
Darach frowned as a bittyfluff crawled into her lap.
Enough. He needed to be alone with her so he could discuss this crying. "Dinna move." Rising, he herded the bittyfluffs off the battlements and into the tower, then closed the door on them. Then he returned to sit beside Blythe. "If ye're not upset, then why do ye cry?"
"For you, for Thrain, for those men you had to kill tonight, and for Ian." She made it all sound perfectly reasonable. "None of you can cry. When a man dies, he should always have someone to cry for him. A mother, a father, a… Oh, I don't know. Someone who will miss him." She waved her hand to indicate the many people who should be weeping over their dead loved ones.
"And someone needs to cry for Thrain. You sure can't. Don't you understand how he honored you? He traveled here because he wanted to be with his best friend when he died. He didn't want to die at the hands of someone cold and impersonal, an executioner. What did you do to deserve that kind of friendship from a man you haven't seen in over five hundred years?" Fresh tears slid down her cheeks.
"Because I canna cry doesna mean I dinna care." Darach was sure of himself in most situations, but he did not know what to do with this woman's tears.
"I know, I know." Blythe wiped at her tears. "And I'm crying for you, too. I've scanned your emotions, but you're hiding them from me again. The things you've had to do tonight… I can't imagine that kind of horror. I guess you feel that you won't have the guts to do what you have to do if you're busy letting your emotions hang out. So I'm letting them hang out for you." She hiccupped and offered him a watery smile. "Doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense, does it?"
Suddenly his carefully constructed self-control shattered. He'd thought he was so strong, but never since he became vampire had he been tested so. Never had he been forced to destroy as he had tonight. Never had he been faced with the choice of slaying a friend or breaking a clan law. And never… had a woman cried for him.
It had been easy to believe himself happy in his sensual world before this.
He had to find a violent expression for all that roared for release in him. Raking his fingers through his tangled hair, he stood, then lifted his face to the moon. "Ye wish to see my feelings, to know how much I care?"
Blythe looked wary. "Well, maybe not right now. I'll take your word for it."
It was too late. Darach needed to rend, tear, destroy. He could easily wreak havoc with his mind, but tonight he must use his hands, feel the destruction on a physical level.
With an inarticulate cry, he ripped away a section of the battlement wall and raised it high above his head, then heaved it to the courtyard below. The explosive sound of the huge section of stone wall hitting the ground had barely faded when he turned his fury on the tower itself. He ripped the door off, sending the herd of terrified bittyfluffs crowded on the other side of it fleeing down the steps.
Through his red haze of fury, he could hear Blythe shouting at him to stop, but he couldn't. Frantically he looked around to see what else he could destroy. Why had he chosen this place to vent his feelings? There was nothing here that satisfied his need. 'Twould have been better if he were in the great hall. He could have thrown tables, torn down walls, brought the whole cursed building down around his head. While he contemplated doing just that, Ganymede thundered up the tower steps.
"What the hel… What the heck are you doing? You're destroying my castle and waking the dead with all that blasted noise." Ganymede thought for a moment. "Well, I guess on a night like this the dead are already awake, but you're scaring my guests."
"Leave… me… be." Darach thought about the satisfaction he'd get from tearing Ganymede apart. 'Twould be a gratifying alternative to bringing the castle down stone by stone. "And 'tis my castle, so I can do what I wish with it."
Darach's killing rage had eased enough for him to be aware of Blythe stroking his arm and murmuring to him. "Calm down. You're okay. We'll deal with everything together."
She spoke to him as she would a wild animal she was attempting to soothe. Mayhap she understood better than he did the beast that lived just beneath the surface of the emotionless face he showed the world. A beast he'd not set loose before this.
"Woman trouble, right?" Ganymede slapped Darach on the back and almost propelled him through the gap in the battlement wall. "Hey, I understand where you're coming from, vampire. Sparkle makes me want to annihilate continents, destroy whole solar systems when she gets started." He frowned. "Can't have that kind of fun anymore, though. Anyway, why don't you make up with Blythe here and let the rest of us sleep?" Ganymede tried to look fatherly as he turned to leave. "And what's that herd of bittyfluffs doing in this time? Almost knocked me down as I came up here." Without waiting for a reply, he stomped down the steps.
Darach stood bemused for a moment, trying to get a mental picture of the wee bittyfluffs knocking Ganymede down. He couldn't do it.
He forgot about Ganymede, though, when he realized Blythe had been unusually quiet throughout the whole exchange. Flexing his shoulder muscles to release some of the tension still thrumming through him, Darach looked at her. She still had her hand on his arm, but he couldn't interpret the emotion in her eyes.
"Ye'll tell me now that tearing buildings down is not on Ecstasy's list of ways to earn lifelong happiness." He put his hand over hers, and she didn't pull away. 'Twas a good sign.
Her lips tipped up in the beginning of a smile.
"You're right. And Ecstasy doesn't believe in alternate roads to happiness. The only acceptable road is the company road."
"Mayhap your leaders would add destruction to their list if they had to kill seven people they knew." He couldn't control the bitterness in his voice.
Blythe leaned into him as a cold mist rolled in from the sea, blotting out the moon. The smell of rain was in the air. "If it's any comfort, wild, uncontrolle
d crying is also not on their list, but it made me feel a whole lot better." She led him over to the shelter of the tower as light rain began to fall, but she didn't step inside the doorway. "Want to know a secret? I think you're right about the folks at Ecstasy. They're too rigid. They don't allow for differences in personalities. As far as they're concerned, if I can't bring you happiness with scented candles and a little body and mind massaging, then forget it. You're doomed to eternal sadness."
"When ye return to your time, will ye still work for them?" I dinna wish ye to return to your time. Somehow his admission came as no surprise. But it was a foolish wish. After what she had seen this night, she would feel only relief at leaving.
If he told her of his many homes, of the wealth he had accumulated over the centuries, would she stay? No, he did not think that would influence Blythe.
Why did he want her to stay? Because ye're not finished knowing her. Darach suspected he would need an eternity to "know" this woman from another time.
"Stay with Ecstasy?" She shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's the only place I've ever worked, and my family's ties are to the company. But if I stay, it won't be because I feel guilty. That's one thing I'm certain of."
Darach glanced up as the rain fell harder. "Ye should get out of the rain."
"No."
Surprised, he looked at her.
"I don't feel clean, Darach. Oh, I know I'm not covered with blood, but that's the way I feel." She flung off her shawl and lifted her face to the rain. "I want this cold rain to pour over my body and make me feel clean again." Blythe shifted her gaze to him. "And I want your body to cleanse here." She placed her hand over her heart. "The rain can't reach that."
His body instantly reacted to her suggestion. "Ecstasy wouldna approve."
"We've broken your clan rules and ignored Ecstasy's guidelines, so…" She shrugged. "Let's live selfishly tonight. This isn't a forever thing, vampire. It's to forget for a short time what happened tonight, and it's to reaffirm life."
She smiled up at him, but her eyes held no laughter. "Is that deep, or what?" Her smile faded. "Make it so hot and hard that you'll drive away all of tonight's ugliness. If you don't, I may never have sweet dreams again."
He reached for her.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
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"Dinna remove your clothing." Darach grasped her hand as she reached for the top of her gown.
Blythe frowned. "I think the cleansing concept requires clothing removal."
"Aye, I agree, but ye cheated me out of that pleasure last time. I willna be denied now." He began to undo the top of her gown, frowning at the laces that seemed to stretch on forever. "I believe your gowns were made by bitter hags who hoped to keep all women virgins. I must unlace ye to your waist. Why?"
Her smile teased and taunted. "To drive impatient vampires into a sexual frenzy."
"They do it verra well." Darach was tempted to dissolve the laces, but Blythe would be upset if he ruined another of her gowns. He undid only a few laces and could wait no longer to touch her. Peeling her gown down to just below her breasts, he studied the offending piece of cloth that cupped them. "I dinna know why ye wear this. Your breasts are wondrous, and it shouldna take a man so long to reach them."
"If you don't touch them soon, I'll be forced to cry some more, this time for me." Her voice was heat and desire.
Five hundred years of self-control were useless around this woman. "I wished to take off each piece of your clothing one by one, then touch, taste, and enjoy the sight of your body. This wish lasted"—Darach counted—"only five laces." He closed his eyes. "I canna wait through even one more lace." Concentrating, he indulged his impatience.
When he opened his eyes, Blythe stood naked before him; her eyes were wide with shock and her clothes were scattered around her feet as she stared at his own bared body. He suspected her shock was because he had rid both of them of their clothes so suddenly.
But he knew his own eyes must be wide as well. Blythe's body affected him as no other woman's had in all his many years, not because she was the most beautiful, but because she was the most beautiful to him.
From the rain-darkened hair that spread across her smooth shoulders, to her full breasts meant to fill a man's palms, down the tempting flow of her stomach and hips to her long, enticing legs, she was all softly rounded woman. He would never tire of sliding his fingers across her warm, golden skin as if touching the sunlight he could never know.
"Mayhap after I've made love to ye a thousand times, I will learn more patience." Darach knew he had given her false hope, because it would never happen. A thousand times was nothing. A thousand years would not extinguish the longing that burned in him for Blythe. And he refused to hide from what he had just admitted.
"I don't want restraint from you, Darach. And don't even think about being patient." She stepped into his embrace, and he closed his arms around her.
"I've had a lifetime of being patient. I endured being stuck in the hellhole of happiness—Casper, Wyoming. My whole adult life has been a song of perseverance. I could never get angry with clients, never hurry along their journey toward the happiness finish line. Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to kick some butts across that damned line so that I could go home?" Blythe blinked up at him as rain sluiced over her bare shoulders. "I've never admitted that to anyone." She frowned. "Even myself."
"Enough." Darach placed a finger over her lips. "Dinna talk. Dinna think." He pulled her close against his body, glorying in the feel of the rain's cold bite against his back and buttocks, and the searing heat wherever his body touched hers.
Leaning away from him, she lifted her eyes to the stormy sky, and her skin gleamed as the rain slid down her face. "I've never felt this free in my whole life."
Holding her steady with his arm around her waist, he leaned down and covered her nipple with his lips, teasing and nipping until she whimpered and pushed away from him. He let her go.
"Whoa. You don't do it all this time. Last time I missed out on all that touching and tasting stuff. My turn now, vampire." She flattened her palms across his chest, then rubbed a slow pattern of seduction.
Moving close to him, she slid her tongue over each of his nipples and nipped as he had. At the same time, she ground her abdomen against his sex, trapping his erection between their bodies.
The heated friction tore a groan from him. But before he could react, she trailed her hands down his body even as she slipped to her knees in front of him.
Darach spread his legs, wanting, needing her touch on all that was a sexual part of his body. And right now, he could not think of any part that was not. Only the cold rain pouring over his body kept him from going up in flames.
Slowly, wantonly, she kissed a hot path up the inside of each of his thighs while her fingers kneaded his buttocks. And when her nails dug into each cheek, the pain was also sexual. He slid his fingers through her wet hair as his body tightened, aroused almost to the point that he could endure no more. But he did, because he wanted her mouth…
She cupped his sacs in her palms, then put her mouth on each, sliding her tongue over skin stretched tight in readiness.
He put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself.
No woman's mouth had ever come close to bringing him to his knees, but Blythe's mouth was silk and heat. And more than just the physical pleasure her touch was giving him was the knowledge that she gave with joy, with caring. For him.
She paused to look up at him. He knew that the wet strands of his hair hung dripping beside his face, every muscle in his chest and shoulders bulged with the rigid control he needed now, and his eyes must be starting to change to those of the hungry creature that wanted Blythe in every way. The creature would not have her in one important way.
"Your eyes are changing," she said. Her gaze was filled with awe and a desire she did nothing to hide, rather than the fear he would see in any other woman's eyes. "Thank you for trusting me enough to l
et me see it."
Could a woman's words be a sexual thing? It must be so, because her words touched him as a caress would, gliding across his pounding heart and moving down to where all sensual pleasure was now centered. 'Twas a revelation. For all his years as vampire he had ignored any words that women said during sex, because usually they were only words telling him what they wished him to do. He felt the slide of his fangs and knew he could not control his need much longer. But he would do so until Blythe was ready.
As she stared at him, he felt the moment held something tenuous, a discovery that was still hidden, and a promise that was not yet fulfilled.
Then she lowered her head and touched his erection with her mouth. He threw back his head and allowed the rain to beat down on his upturned face as all physical sensation narrowed to the touch of her lips, her teeth.
She slid her tongue the length of his arousal, then touched the base with the tip of her tongue and moved it in a way that made his whole body shudder. Where had she learned that? Mayhap he did not want to know. But he wondered about nothing more as she nibbled her way around the head of his erection, then paused.
And even though he thought himself prepared, when she slid her lips smoothly over the head and surrounded his flesh with all her heat and passion, he felt that his heart stopped, then began to beat again with a pounding demand strong enough to shatter his body.
Dimly he heard thunder and knew that jagged streaks of lightning lit the sky. Wind whipped about them and the rain became a punishing torrent. And he was part of the storm, driven before it by the torture of her mouth firm around him as she mimicked the motion of sex, sliding down on him, then retreating. Her tongue circled and played with his flesh, and her teeth scraped lightly along its length.
With a savage growl, he tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her from him. She looked up at him, and as the storm battered them, he saw the same wild need as his.
He was close to losing control, but as had always happened with Blythe, his need to bury himself between her legs overwhelmed any compulsion to feed from her.
