He gave her a sheepish grin. "I was parked downstairs."
"Really?"
His large shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I've parked out front the last few nights."
"I wish you would have told me."
"Would ye have been fine if I told ye I was?"
"No, I guess not." She stared at him, taking in his dark chinos, black shirt and leather jacket, the one with the bullet hole. Her hand slid over the tear. If he had been human, she could have killed him. "Why do you keep this?"
His hand covered hers. His flesh was always slightly cool, but warmth spread through her at his touch. "It's my favorite jacket." She met his eyes, his gaze saying so much more. "I couldn't replace it. Ye know, memories…"
She swallowed back the lump in her throat and backed up a few steps. "Let me slip into something… a little more appropriate."
His gaze swept over her in appreciation and his lips twitched. "Don't do so on my account. Ye look rather fetchin' in a Red Sox T-shirt." His gaze lingered on her long legs and she pulled at the T-shirt, willing it to be longer. "Barefoot is a nice touch, too," he added.
"Ah-huh, right. I'll be right back."
She donned her jeans, but kept on the Red Sox T-shirt. When she walked back into the living room, she caught Garran at her desk, looking at her notebook. "That's private, you know."
He glanced up. "Ye've studied me like I'm a mouse trapped in yer laboratory." Did she detect a note of hurt?
"I'm only jotting down what I've learned."
"There's more to me than bein' a vampire."
"I know, but it's still a big part of who you are. I'm virtually ignorant of your world and don't want to be. Is it so wrong that I'm curious to know what makes you tick? You say the books about vampires are superstitious nonsense. I want a clear picture of you… of the real you."
His gray stormed eyes softened to a soft silver mist. "Ye are a strange human, Isabella Lucci."
"Why do you say that?"
"Ye should be runnin' from the likes of me. I'm darkness, the epitome of evil, some would believe. Before I was turned, I believed a creature like myself was a demon."
"I don't believe you are evil. Dark, a tad on the mysterious side, yes."
His lips curved and this time, he did smile. "Ye say ye want to know the real me, but I fear ye'll no' be pleased. I have done things beyond forgiveness. Don't put me in the light when I have no right to be there. I am closer to the demon I speak of than the saint ye see me as."
"I know what you are capable of doing." He met her gaze and they both knew she referred to what he did in the alley at Tony's Pub. "I'm not foolish enough to believe you have lived the life of a saint, but I know…" she tapped her chest right above her heart. "I know you're capable of good. I've seen your thoughts."
He put her notebook down with a sigh. "I should warn ye, I am no' makin' excuses for what I am. I have come to terms with it. I am, what I am, as the saying goes."
What she'd seen in her dreams and now his confession—both should have warned her to stay away from him, but how could she condemn him for giving her an honest answer? "What you do now with your life matters more to me." Her gaze shifted to his mouth and she remembered how those lips had felt against hers—sweet and oh so tender… She cleared her throat. "Tell me about you—anything."
His heated gaze swept over her, making her breath hitch in her throat and her heart skip a beat. "After I was changed," he began. "I lived with the Sidhe, the Tuatha Dé Danann."
She nodded. "You mentioned it before and I saw you with them in a vision. I looked up The Tuatha Dé Danann. The authors call them the Faeries, but they aren't wing-faeries I've read about in tales."
"They're often called the Fae. It's a loosely used word for all the faerie folk—the Sidhe, Brownies, Pookahs, the Bobhan Sith, the Grim Sith, among others. The Sidhe are bein's with phenomenal power, godlike creatures held in high esteem among the preternatural world. To ye, they would appear more human-like than the other preternatural bein's of the Fae, but… I have a hunch ye would notice the difference."
"You lived with god-like beings. How am I ever supposed to compare with that?"
His brows drew together, obviously not understanding her duress. "There is no comparin' on my part. I am drawn to ye. I was drawn to ye before we blood bounded. It is I, who feels unworthy."
She drew in a ragged breath. "You?"
"Ye are young, alive, and have so much to look forward to. I fear what I may bring to yer doorstep. Darkness surrounds me and it always will."
Maybe he spoke the truth about the darkness, but she never had purpose before she met him, before Harrison opened her eyes to the preternatural world. Garran believed darkness surrounded him, but she lived in darkness, separated from others because of her ability to see auras and her obsession with death and wanting to have a glimpse of their last moments—if only to make sure they left in peace. She knew without a doubt she belonged in Garran's world.
She took the steps that separated them. He must have read her intentions in her eyes. He lifted his hands, as if to ward her off.
"Don't do this?"
"Do what?" She continued her pursuit as if she were the hunter and he the prey. She almost chuckled at the thought, liking the feel of being the huntress. He backed himself against the wall. She went in for the kill—well, so to speak. She pressed her body against his, letting him know her intentions, if he hadn't already figured them out.
His eyebrows rose high on his forehead and his eyes darkened like storm clouds, threatening, but also beautiful with its promise for more to come.
She tried to deny what she truly wanted, believing they couldn't work. She knew now it had been foolish on her part. She wanted to be with him and clearly, he wanted her, too. Only, he seemed skittish now that she'd taken the initiative. "I thought vampires were sexual creatures, or is that just another myth?"
"Ye play with fire, Miss Lucci. If ye want to take things slowly, this is no' the way to do it."
Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. "I'm not afraid of fire."
"Ye should be." He pushed her back at arms' length.
"Garran." She spoke his name like an incantation, stilling his actions. "Garran, don't push me away. Not tonight. Not when I know you'll face Alexander tomorrow. I want you. The question is: Do you want me, too?"
Chapter Fifty-Two
This was insane. Garran knew this. He needed to send Isabella back to bed and away from him, but her fingers touched his arm, a featherlike touch that sent a thrill of desire pulsing through his veins. If he touched her he would incinerate from the light she radiated, but if he didn't he would cease to exist anyway. His gaze locked with hers. She was a fool to look upon him with desire, but he was a bigger one for accepting it. He leaned down and kissed her, his mouth demanding and greedy. He told himself he was only going to kiss her and nothing more, but his body had a mind of its own as waves of pleasure washed over him. His hands encircled her waist and brought her closer, wanting more of her hot sweet breath. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, touching her tongue in a mating dance all its own.
Her heart raced, and he relished in the thought it beat erratically because of her need for him to touch her. Her sweet feminine scent curled around him, drawing him under her spell and weakening his resolve to only kiss her when he wanted so much more.
He couldn't take her, not yet. Not before she knew what it meant to be mated to him. Hell, he needed to know what it entailed. Isabella was human and fragile compared to his kind. It was foolish to believe he would not one day change her or to even believe he wouldn't want to. He'd been alone for a long time. If she lived a human lifespan, she'd only be with him for a breath of time, but he was selfish. He wanted more, but he also loved her and would allow her to make the choice. Be with him for always or not at all. It was the only way.
He dragged his mouth from hers, but she tried to reclaim their connection. "No, we need to stop," he said firmly, taking hold of her hands that seemed
to have a mind of their own as they roamed over his body with needy caresses. She stilled, but remained pressed against him, making it difficult for him to focus on what was right and wrong where she was concerned.
"We don't have to stop. I don't want you to." Her lust-filled gaze wavered over his features before hungrily eyeing his mouth.
His fangs throbbed in his gums. "And what of tomorrow when daylight comes and the shadows disappear?" Her gaze shifted to meet his again. "Will ye no' regret this? Because rest assure, Miss Lucci, if we continue on this course, I will make ye mine… forever."
She ran her fingers down his arm in a circular motion. "Fair is fair, I suppose."
His brows furrowed. "What do ye mean?"
"I plan on making you mine, too."
She didn't understand. He shook his head. "Miss Lucci—"
"Perhaps you should call me by my first name now, Garran."
Hearing his name was like an incantation, binding him to her will and God, he loved the way his name slid off her tongue. He swallowed hard. "Isabella, I—"
"Oh, for heaven's sake." She clasped his face and crushed her mouth to his.
Her bold movement sent him over the edge. To hell with everything else… She was a consenting adult. She knew what he was and what he was capable of doing. His hands thrust into her hair and he cradled her head in his palms as he took what she offered. Surely, he could take her to bed this once and remain in control of his other instincts.
"What in the hell is going on?" A male voice demanded, slicing through Garran's lust-filled haze.
He pulled Isabella behind him to protect her. His adrenalin spiked, ready to pounce if the male so much as made a move.
Isabella peeked her head around him. "Did we wake you?"
"Did we wake—" Garran looked over his shoulder at her. "Who is this man?"
"My brother, Nicholas."
Oh aye, the brother. He'd forgotten he lived with her.
"Izzie?" Her brother pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose and glared at Garran.
Isabella moved to stand by Garran and slipped her hand into his. "This is Garran MacLaurin, Nick. Garran, let me introduce you to my brother, Nick."
Nicholas didn't look impressed. He looked pissed.
Garran growled, the possessive side of his nature coming through despite his efforts to rein it in.
Isabella squeezed his hand in warning.
"It's late or should I say, early." Nicholas crossed his arms across his chest.
"Listen, Nicholas, I can entertain if I so choose. Go back to bed. We'll try to be quiet." A chuckled slipped out and she quickly covered her lips.
Nicholas blinked as if he couldn't believe she dismissed him.
Garran suppressed a smile. Now would not be the time to anger the brother further.
"Izzie—" Nicholas began only to be cut off by his sister.
"Nicholas," she warned, her brows rising high on her forehead to bring home her point.
Nicholas shifted his gaze to Garran as if he wanted him to set his sister straight. Nicholas flinched before he recovered his composure. For that brief second, Garran would have sworn Isabella's brother saw him, glimpsed his real self, but then his gaze shifted back to Isabella. "I hope you know what you're doing." He didn't wait for her to answer him, but turned on his heels and went back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Isabella let out the breath she'd been holding.
"I should go." Garran broke the silence.
"Why?" She looked at him.
"Because yer brother doesn't like me bein' here."
"Are you serious?"
His finger wound around a loose tendril of hair. "I want to be with ye, but not tonight." Her body stiffened and she backed away. She let her hand fall to her side and he immediately felt the loss of it.
"Why? I want you. You want me. What's the hold up?"
He ran a hand through his hair. She was too willing to accept her fate without knowing all the facts. "Ye give me too much credit at bein' able to restrain my urge to feed. Ye must know all the facts before ye make this decision. There are risks, and ye must look at all of them." He met her eyes. "Ye have seen glimpses of my memories, but ye have failed to realize, I have seen yers as well. I will no' be the cause of another heartache in yer life."
She pursed her lips. Her hands were on her hips, making her look haughty and sexy all in one. "Are you sure it's not because you're afraid to commit?"
He paused, a second too long.
"Go then." She waved her hand at him in dismissal. She stormed past him to the front door, yanking it open. "I believe this is your cue."
He strode to the door, but in the hall he turned around to face her. "Believe me, this is for yer—"
She screamed in frustration and slammed the door in his face.
"…good," he finished to the door. He stood there stunned and shook his head. She made doing the right thing so very difficult.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Isabella leaned against the door and wiped away angry tears. "Damn his foolish code of ethics." She stormed to the kitchen and flipped on the lights. She couldn't sleep, not now. She pulled out pots and pans. She slammed the cupboards closed as she took out the ingredients she needed. "We'd never work," she mumbled under her breath. He wasn't even human for Christ's sake. "But I've had human relationships and they weren't so great either." Garran knew of her ability and accepted it. When had she ever had that? When had she not felt like a freak? She opened a can of tomato sauce with a vengeance.
"What's going on in here?" Nicholas stood in the archway of the kitchen, looking none too pleased to have his slumber interrupted–yet again.
She slammed the pot on the stove, water sloshing all over the place.
"I'm cooking."
"Now?" He glanced behind him, into the living room.
"If you're looking for Garran, he left."
His gaze softened. "I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"Izzie—"
"Can it, will you?"
"Okay," he said with caution. He strode over to the counter. She wanted to make pasta. Nicholas let her, handing her what she needed, while he waited for her to tell him what had happened.
"I like him," she blurted out.
"I'm assuming you mean the guy who just left."
"His name is Garran."
Nicholas handed her the fresh garlic and she chopped as she talked.
"He's not like anyone I've ever met. He's strong, honest, and brave. He knows I can see auras and it doesn't spook him. The way he makes me feel when I'm with him…" She sighed, not caring if she sounded like a lovesick schoolgirl with her first crush.
"Sounds like you're in love with him."
She turned her head so fast she was surprised she didn't hear a snap. "In love with him?"
Nicholas' lips curved, but he didn't look overly pleased at the prospect. "I'm just saying."
She turned away and took her frustration out on the tomato, chopping it faster and faster until it was diced into small cube-like pieces, the juice spreading like blood on the cutting board. She glanced at her brother again. "He says he wants to take it slow, but I think he's just afraid of what we could have."
"Fool."
Isabella smiled. "Yeah. Stubborn, too."
"But you still love him," he stated again.
She didn't speak for a moment as she let the thought sink in. "I guess I do." She added the ingredients to the sauce.
"I know you're old enough to know what you want, but you're still my little sister." He took a spoon out of the drawer and dipped it in the sauce for a taste. "Needs a pinch of salt," he said not missing a beat. "How do you know this guy anyway?"
She reached for the saltshaker on the spice rack beside the oven. "I met him through Harrison." She sprinkled the salt on her palm before dumping the amount she wanted into the sauce and putting the burner on low to let the sauce simmer.
"Harrison, huh. I thought he was
the one interested in you."
"It seems he had a soft spot for Johanna."
"Johanna?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Go figure. She didn't seem his type." Then he became sober as he remembered Johanna was still in the hospital. "Poor guy. He wasn't Johanna's secret boyfriend, was he?"
Isabella shook her head as a chill spread through her. "No. The guy she was dating is…" She couldn't tell her brother that Johanna's boyfriend was the Soul Taker, feeding on young women. "He's a jerk. He didn't care about her. Once she was in the hospital, he moved on."
"What a scum."
"You have no idea." She chopped the fresh garlic and absentmindedly added it to the sauce then chopped another clove.
"Izzie?"
"Yeah?"
"I think that's enough garlic. There's enough in the sauce to kill a vampire."
Horrified at her brother's choice of words, she dropped the chopped garlic on the countertop. She didn't even know if garlic could harm Garran, let alone kill him, but the thought that she could hurt him in any way…
"Izzie?"
She looked at her brother. "I don't know what I'm doing." Her eyes pooled with tears against her wishes. Damn emotions.
"Come here." Nicholas opened his arms to her. She let him pull her into his safety net. "Everything will look better in the morning." He remained quiet for a moment, letting her take comfort in his arms like she did when she was younger. There had been so many times when her gift would make the children at school fear her. She'd come home crying, but Nicholas somehow made everything all right again. He had always been there for her.
"You should ask Garran over for dinner. I'd like to know him better since my little sister has taken a liking to him. This way I can warn him not to break your heart, or else," he teased. "I'll even cook."
She chuckled, choking back a sob. "Sounds good." She couldn't patch up what didn't exist. She worked with Garran—and that was an iffy arrangement at best. Garran and she didn't have a relationship. He only noticed her because he blood-bonded with her to keep her safe. Otherwise, she knew he would have kept his distance.
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