“I’m sorry for setting fire to your apothecary,” he said, his gaze meeting hers. She moved, but he caught hold of her chin. This was about as genuine as he ever got with anyone, and he didn’t want her to miss it. “I’m so sorry for nearly killing you,” he continued softly. “What I did—” He cast about for the right words, but there weren’t any. “It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it—I’m so sorry, and I’m so relieved you didn’t die,” he whispered. “Because—” He hesitated, swallowed. His gaze swept over her face. “Because I was so lost, and I didn’t even know it until I found you.”
Her eyes rounded, and she stared up at him, surprised. “I never thought I’d hear you say it,” she admitted in a whisper. “Not for real.”
And that was shameful. He dropped his gaze to her throat. “It shouldn’t have taken five months,” he conceded. “That was not—cool. Not cool.”
Her lips twisted, as though she was trying not to smile. He frowned. “What?”
“I don’t know if a fire starter could ever be cool,” she murmured, her teeth catching her lower lip, but the smile still curved upward. “I think you’re too hot for that.” Her green eyes flared with something warm, something that was an undeniable invitation. An invitation he no longer had any intention of rejecting. Screw noble. Being disgraceful was so much better.
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you think I’m hot, huh?”
She twisted in his arms, her gaze never leaving his. “Uh-huh.”
She leaned up to kiss him, her hand cupping his cheek. “I think you are so much more that you give yourself credit for,” she whispered, and right then, he knew. He was gone. Totally, irrevocably lost to this woman. She raised her head to his, and he opened his mouth to her kiss.
She kissed him gently, she kissed him hotly, she kissed him until he was breathless and panting and wanting so much more than just a kiss. The fire flickered, then roared, its flames creeping just a little higher, spreading a golden glow throughout the room.
He cradled her head as she straddled and leaned over him, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he dragged her shirt aside from her neck. The fabric halted his exploration. He was tempted to tear it from her, but tried to slow down, to regain some control. He pulled back for a moment, whipping her T-shirt over her head, rising slightly off the bed to take her lips again as he undid the clasp of her bra and slid the straps down her shoulders.
Her hands slid down his chest. He moaned against her lips, enjoying the sensation of her touch. Sliding, caressing, her fingers glided over his torso, teasing him, pleasing him. She rolled her hips against him, flicking her thumbs over his nipples, and his heart thudded in his ears, heat building between them.
His arms slid up her back, her hair brushing his skin, sensitizing him. He moaned as her lips drifted to his jaw, nipping and licking down his neck. He could feel the heat between them, their hips rolling and writhing as though dancing to an unknown beat. She was so damn generous, so giving, offering him such intense pleasure so easily. He flinched when her teeth grazed his nipple. He was so damn hard, so ready for her, but he wanted this to be about her.
He rolled them over, and she gasped at the movement, then sighed as he took her lips in a hot kiss, their tongues curling, caressing.
He skimmed his hand down her body, his hips resting between her legs. He loved the soft feel of her breasts, loved it when she trembled at his touch. He trailed his lips down her neck, and she arched against him, as though offering herself up to him. He dipped his head to one rosy peak, laving it with his tongue, his hand cupping her other breast, and she moaned. He switched his attention to the other breast, satisfaction at her impassioned cries giving way to his own building desire.
He nipped and licked his way down over the gentle swell of her stomach, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them and her panties down and off her legs as he went. He kept kissing her, and she gasped when he breathed against her warm, damp core. Her eyes widened, and she looked down at him.
“Wait,” she gasped, and he smiled, a wicked need ensnaring him. Her cheeks were flushed, her red hair tumbled over her shoulders and her green gaze was dark with arousal. He clasped one of her hands in reassurance.
“Trust me,” he said, and winked. “I’m a doctor.” He lowered his lips to kiss her, his gaze on her as her head tilted back, the cords on her throat standing out as she cried in ecstasy. He made love to her, kissing her with a desire and reverence he’d never felt before. He loved this woman, and he was determined to show her. For once, he was determined that his bad was going to be very, very good.
Warmth rolled over him, and he realized he was surrendering to the mating bond again. He could smell her, taste her, touch her, yet he could feel his breath on her, feel the wicked sensations that flooded her from her core, and the awareness flooded his own groin with desire, their combined arousal building. He could sense her tightening, sense the climb, experienced the rush of her orgasm right along with her as it swept over her, and she screamed in pleasure, bucking against him.
He rose up over her, unable to hold off any longer. He thrust inside her. Felt the cradle of her core, the heat surrounding him, and felt her. Felt his length sliding inside her, sensitizing her anew. Light flared around him, little sparks that flickered and twinkled, creating a magical skyline inside their room. He plunged, again and again, and she met his thrust with abandon, twining her legs around his waist, clenching him. The tingle started at the base of his spine, and heat crawled over him, spreading outward in an explosion of exquisite pleasure that ricocheted between them. Her pleasure, his pleasure—he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began, it just rolled on, setting off minor explosions as they eventually subsided, panting, on the twisted sheets.
He slid to the side, rolling them over until Melissa covered his body like a sensual blanket. He could feel her heart pounding against his, and his lips lifted in a smile. For the first time ever, he knew true contentment.
He kicked at the sheet until he could grasp it with his hand and pull it up over her back, tucking her in on top of him. She lifted her head, her smoldering green eyes meeting his briefly before she yawned. Like a cat. She’d played hard, and now she was sleepy. He smiled again, cuddling her to him. She made a halfhearted effort to roll off him, but he stayed her, his hands on her hips.
“No, stay. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
Her head dropped to his chest, and she snuggled against him, her thigh sliding up against his waist. For a while, they lay like that, hearts beating against each other as their muscles relaxed. Hunter gazed up at the canopy of the bed, his arms enfolding the woman he loved. He couldn’t let her go. Wouldn’t let her go. If she tried to leave him, well, he’d just have to leave with her.
* * *
Melissa toweled her hair dry. The only reason she knew it was morning was because her watch read 7:32 a.m. They’d been woken up at six-thirty by a knock at the door and a delivery of clean clothes. Her cheeks pinkened. As soon as the door had closed, and the lock had slid home, Hunter had scooped her up and carried her to the bed to make love to her again.
Her teeth caught her bottom lip in a smile as she dropped the towel and scooped up the denim and underwear. Her body ached, but it was a glorious ache, one that told her how her body had been loved long and hard during the night. And in the morning. As well as the shower.
She’d dressed and was finger-combing her hair when she heard a sharp rap on the door. She peered out of the bathroom, and Hunter rose from the armchair by the fire. He wore fresh dark jeans and a white long-sleeved T-shirt that draped his body, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean hips.
The door opened, and a Darkken vampire peered around the room until he saw Hunter. He beckoned him. “You need to come with me.”
Hunter slid his hand into a back jeans pocket and leaned casually against one of the corner posts of the grand bed.
“I don’t need to do anything with you,” he said dryly.
Melissa emerged from the room, plaiting her hair as she walked.
The Darkken frowned. “You need to come with me,” he repeated.
“I’m not leaving her alone,” Hunter said, inclining his head toward Melissa. She came up next to him, watching the Darkken warily.
“She stays here, you come with me,” the vampire said, anger edging his tone.
“No.”
“What’s going on?” Melissa asked, eyeing the vampire with curiosity. The Darkken’s lips tightened, then he sighed brusquely.
“The Lady Amelie wants to see her son. In private,” he added.
Melissa glanced at Hunter, saw his hesitation, his curiosity, his wariness. “Go,” she told him. “I’ll be fine here until you come back.”
Hunter turned to her, reaching for her hand. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he murmured huskily. His need to protect her made her feel all warm and tender and, oh, damn it, fuzzy.
She met his gaze. “You need to do this,” she urged. “You have a mother who wants to make things right with you.” She glanced down at their clasped hands. “You don’t know how precious that is, Hunter. Don’t throw it away.”
Whatever she said must have struck a chord with him, as Hunter nodded reluctantly. He dipped his head, ignoring the vampire in the room to kiss her lingeringly. “Be careful, Red,” he murmured as he lifted his head, and didn’t move until she nodded her promise.
“I will.”
She watched as Hunter left the room, and she stood there for a moment after the door closed and the lock was engaged, her fingers keeping his kiss warm on her lips. She watched the ribbons of light that flowed from her chest to beyond the door. He still hadn’t mentioned the bond, and she wasn’t sure why. She’d felt the tug of it in the tunnel, had been surprised at each of Hunter’s attempts to tame it, control it. Hadn’t actually seen it, though, until last night. Which meant Hunter had seen it earlier, and hadn’t mentioned it.
She sighed, twirled, then flopped back on the bed. She had a bond mate. A bond mate who didn’t actually want to talk about their bond. She spread her arms out on the bed. She should be angry. Horrified. Running in the opposite direction... Instead she made a sheet angel, moving her arms and legs on the bed until she could feel the linen bunch beneath her. She was a witch. She’d heard of mating bonds, had even seen the glorious auras of some, and had envied those who shared one. She may not understand all of the laws of magic, but she knew only an idiot tried to ignore the laws of magic.
She giggled. She wasn’t an idiot. She didn’t think she could ever find love again, not after Theo. Didn’t think she’d find a man worthy, and didn’t think she’d get over the guilt. Sure, it hadn’t been the best start to a relationship, but perhaps that was the universe’s idea of a joke. Show the worst of the mate before slowly revealing the best.
She frowned. It had been a really slow reveal, though. She stared up at the canopy. Hunter hadn’t said anything, hadn’t indicated anything, had even tried to hide it from her. She should feel insulted, but she thought she understood him a little better now. First he’d discovered the woman he’d loved had been a lie, as was their love. Then he’d learned his mother hadn’t actually died—well, she had, but that wasn’t the reason she wasn’t in his life. She’d left him. Unwillingly, but she could see he’d taken that news hard.
She lifted her chin. She’d just have to show him that not all women ran away from him.
Poor Hunter. He had no idea who he was up against.
* * *
Hunter frowned as he followed the Darkken vamp down a dark passageway, and then down some stairs. This wasn’t the way back to the hall. He’d tried to memorize as much as he could, but they’d turned away from the hall about three corridors back.
“Where does my mother want to meet me?” he asked the vamp as they stepped down into another hallway, and rounded a corner.
“In hell, where you’ll see her in good time,” the Darkken commented.
Hunter halted, but something hard and heavy crashed into the back of his skull, and darkness snatched him away from consciousness.
Chapter 20
Melissa heard the bolt slide in the lock, and her eyes flickered open. She must have dozed off. Not surprising, considering her lack of sleep. She jackknifed off the bed, summoning her magic as the door swung inward, ready to annihilate any vamp that attacked her.
Lady Amelie’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and she lifted her hands, palms facing her. “Good morning.”
Melissa lowered her hands, but didn’t completely relax. The woman was still a vampire. “Sorry,” she said lamely. It wouldn’t be the done thing to zap the mother of her bond mate.
Amelie glanced around the room. “I was hoping to talk with Hunter, if he was willing.”
Melissa frowned. “He is. He was on his way to you.”
Amelie glanced toward the door, a frown marring her brow. “What?”
“That vamp came to collect him—” Melissa glanced at her watch. “Uh, nearly an hour ago. He said you wanted to talk to Hunter.”
Amelie shook her head. “I sent no one for Hunter. I don’t need anyone to act as an intermediary between my son and me. There are already too many misunderstandings and lost words between us.”
Alarm grew in Melissa. “Well, someone came here and told him you wanted to see him, and he hasn’t been back since.”
Amelie reached for Melissa’s hand, and Melissa stepped back. Amelie’s surprised gaze slowly transitioned to understanding. She beckoned instead. “Come, we have to let Griffin know.”
“How do we know Griffin didn’t organize this?” Melissa asked as she followed Amelie into the corridor.
Amelie snorted as she strode along the hallway. “If Griffin wanted Hunter dead, he wouldn’t be sneaky about it. He’d just kill him and be done with it.”
“Oh,” Melissa responded faintly. “Good to know.”
Amelie shook her head. “An hour. A lot can happen in an hour.” She broke into a trot, and Melissa increased her own pace to keep up with her. She followed the older woman through the labyrinth of corridors until they jogged into the great hall.
Griffin was on the dais, listening to a report from the vampire who’d urged everyone from the hall the night before.
“What do you mean, there’s another witch?” Griffin exclaimed, his tone exasperated. “I feel like someone’s declared Old Irondell as a top holiday destination. There are too many tourists traipsing around, damn it.”
“He’s searching for a woman,” the Darkken supplied. “He identified himself to one of the perimeter guardians, and requested parlay.”
“Parlay.” Griffin shook his head, lips twisted. “Well, that’s seems to be a loose term at the moment.” He paused, then sighed roughly. “I’ll still honor it, though. We’re not allowed to kill him now. At least, not until he leaves Old Irondell.” The Dark Lord waved his hand, a disgruntled expression on his face. “Fine, bring him in.”
“Griffin,” Amelie called.
Melissa gasped as she saw the crowd of Darkken part, and a familiar figure with shaggy dark blond hair, biker leathers and sunglasses stalked into the hall.
“Dave,” she exclaimed, running toward her brother. Two Darkken vamps stepped between them to halt her, preventing her from reaching her brother.
“I’d suggest you get your hands off my sister before I remove them for you,” Dave said calmly, but there was no mistaking his fierce expression.
“Let her through,” Griffin called, then grumbled something to his Guardian Prime. The Darkken dropped their hold immediately, and Melissa launched herself at her brother, and he swept her up in a bear hug.
“Griffin,” Amelie called, this time sharply.
Gri
ffin rubbed his temple. “Yes, Mother?”
“Oh, it’s so good to see you,” Melissa breathed as she clutched at her brother.
“You don’t call, you don’t write,” Dave responded, chuckling. “Don’t you think leveling a city block to get my attention was a little overkill?”
Melissa paled. “Was anyone hurt?”
Dave grimaced. “Well, if you’re talking about your business neighbors, seeing as it was a Sunday night, nobody else was around. But if you’re talking about a whole bunch of vamps and lycans...yeah. There were a few fatalities.”
“They were attacking me,” she said defensively. Dave pulled back to gaze down at her.
“I figured that much, just by the sheer numbers. When they didn’t pull your body out, though, I’ve been trying to figure out where you got to. Didn’t think you had the guts to brave Old Irondell on your own, though, kid. Smart move.”
“I wasn’t alone,” Melissa said, then turned toward the dais, pulling Dave along behind her.
Amelie was already talking with Griffin, who rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“What do you mean, he’s gone?”
“He’s been taken.”
“Well, if he’s silly enough to get himself nabbed...” Griffin halted when he saw his mother’s expression, and he folded his arms as he faced off against her. “I got a delivery today. Do you want to know what it was? Gavin’s head.” His expression showed his pain, his anger. “I sent Gavin to your dear husband to invite him to parlay, and the psycho killed him. Do you want to know how many he’s murdered since then? Six. Six people, Mom. All in the time it would have taken for Gavin to return. While. We. Slept.” He said the last words through gritted teeth, then took a deep breath. “How many lives is your precious son worth?”
Amelie tilted her head to the side. “I would risk everything for all of my sons. We have to help him, Griff.”
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