Insatiable Desire

by Rita Herron

  Her goodness was screwing with his plan, resurrecting the sliver of good inside Vincent, the good that his father had savagely beaten out of him. If Valtrez continued to have the woman sexually, she could feed his soul to the point of no return.

  But Vincent would have to feed daily on her flesh, and no human woman was that unselfish.

  Or could totally please an insatiable beast like Valtrez.

  Soon he would lose control and the darkness would overcome him. Then he’d take her in the primitive ways, as his father had taught him.

  Was Vincent fucking her now?

  He homed in to listen to their voices, lifted his hands to feel their aura, tried to smell Valtrez’s scent, yet it evaded him.

  Had they discovered one of the sacred places? Was that the reason he’d lost track of them?

  He cursed again, needing another kill.

  Just as he needed to make certain that Sadie Sue made hers.

  He blinked, morphing himself to her, his demonic form floating in the shadows as she stood in her child’s room. The babysitter, the baby . . . it didn’t matter to him who she chose as her first victim.

  Only that she kill.

  He blew his breath into her ear, whispered for her to feed the evil growing inside her, to squeeze the life out of the child until his last breath faded into silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The cool water lapped against Vincent’s naked body, washing away the last strains of his resistance. He didn’t want to feel anything for Clarissa, especially this all-consuming hunger that snaked through him like an out-of-control beast every time she whispered his name or touched him.

  And seeing that amulet around her neck, glinting against her naked flesh, had nearly brought him to his knees with emotions.

  Emotions he didn’t want to feel. The love for his mother. The pain of losing her. The guilt that he hadn’t saved her.

  The fear that he might not be able to save Clarissa.

  Adrenaline fired his need, and the terror that had nearly paralyzed him when the walls had caved still burned through his veins. While he’d dug his way through the rubble to reach her, all he could think about was that she might be dead.

  That he didn’t want her to die. That he couldn’t bear to lose her.

  She ducked beneath the pool, then surfaced, bubbles from the natural spring cascading around her naked breasts as they bobbed in the water. Hunger stabbed his groin. She looked so damn tantalizing that he wanted to eat her up.

  The walls of the cave created a haven unlike anything he’d ever felt before, a quiet seclusion that erased any rational thoughts and obliterated the reasons he shouldn’t take her.

  You never fuck a woman more than once.

  But somewhere deep in his soul, he’d known that she would drive him across that line, a line he’d never breached before.

  The need was too strong, too all-consuming. He had to have her.

  Thoughts fled, as did the reality of the danger awaiting them, and he plunged beneath the water, grabbed her by the waist, and fused his mouth to her nipple.

  She cried out his name, and he sucked one breast, then the other, running his hands over her hips like a greedy animal, then between her thighs to play with her clit, then inside her. He needed more. Needed to feed from her. Needed all of her.

  Her hands became urgent, begging, reaching for him.

  He carried her from the pool, spread their clothes on the floor of the cave, and laid her below the sliver of moonlight, which cast a radiant glow over her naked body. He had never in his life seen anything more beautiful. She was the moonlight on a clear night, the sun setting across the aquamarine blue of the ocean, a breath when there was no air left in the world to swallow.

  The last good thing a bastard like him should have.

  But the one he wanted and would want with his dying breath.

  The crystal drops of water that clung to her body begged for his mouth, and he licked them off, drop by drop, savoring the mixture of salt and sweetness on her skin and the smell of her arousal as the precious juncture between her thighs grew moist with need.

  He tasted the dewy dampness there, too, and smiled at the way she bucked when his tongue teased her flesh and danced along her folds, taunting her.

  “Let me taste you, too, Vincent. Please.”

  Her wispy voice sounded so sultry that a thousand sensations splintered through his nerve endings all at once. He thought he might explode as she pushed him backward, so he lay beneath her. She claimed his mouth with hers, probing his lips apart with her tongue until he groaned and dragged her on top of him. Her bare breasts brushed his chest, the friction almost unbearable as she stroked her foot up his calf, and plunged her tongue deeper into his mouth.

  He’d never imagined a kiss could be so damn sensual, but she played her tongue along his teeth, nipping and sucking at his lips, then his neck, using her body to mimic her tongue as she teased him to the brink of insanity. He raked his hands over her buttocks, squeezing her cheeks, loving her ass with his hands, as he ground his hips upward and imagined being inside her.

  With a guttural groan, she tore her mouth from his, then trailed her tongue and kisses along his jaw, down his neck to his nipples. He’d never had a woman suck him the way he had her, but she did, and his body spasmed with erotic sensations that shot straight to his groin and set him on fire.

  He tunneled his fingers through her hair and ordered her to stop, but she continued torturing him by sliding south and enclosing her hand around his cock. It bulged with need, the tip of his penis oozing cum that she licked off; then she pushed his legs apart and cupped his balls in her hands. He clenched her hair, wanting her mouth around his shaft.

  She licked her lips, then his engorged head, circling her tongue around the tip until pleasure rippled through him. Sighing in contentment, she licked him from head to base, cupping his swollen sex in her hand as she slid her lips over his length and took his cock into her mouth. His penis twitched and ached, throbbing for release, yet he clutched her shoulders, willing himself to hold back.

  He wanted, had, to be inside her when he lost himself.

  And he would lose himself if he took her again. It was against his rules, against everything he’d taught himself.

  Dangerous to him.

  Deadly for her.

  She lapped him up, though, sucking his length and stroking him at the same time, licking her way around his shaft until he was mindless with pleasure.

  Unable to restrain himself any longer, he grabbed her arms and flung her down on the makeshift bedding, then climbed above her. For a heartbeat of a second, he looked into her eyes, and shock sent spasms of erotic sensations through him at the blatant hunger in her eyes. She was strong, courageous, hid nothing from him. So giving that it humbled him.

  His chest ached, and his mind screamed at him to stop, but he lowered his mouth and kissed her. He tasted her need, the intensity of her desire, his own cum on her lips, and kneed her legs apart.

  Dragging his mouth away from hers, he looked into her eyes once more. She watched him with passion flaring in her eyes, her chest heaving for a breath, sweat beading on her brow, then licked her lips and smiled.

  “You taste delicious,” she whispered.

  Her words shoved him over the edge, and he gripped her hips and thrust inside her. She cried his name as he filled her, and he pushed deeper, lifting her hips to sink himself further, pumping and grinding in and out as she clung to him.

  Driven by the animal inside him, he rode her, hard and fast, their bodies slapping together in frenzied heat, his cock aching yet engorged with pleasure. A pleasure that was so exquisite it bordered on pain.

  He’d known only pain before. Mindless sex with no connection.

  Yet as he pounded inside her, his soul whispered that she was his lifemate. That after her, no other woman would be able to sate him.

  He shut out the voice, rammed himself deeper, threw his head back, and relented to the primal
man inside him. A low cry ripped from her throat as her body spasmed beneath him. The muscles of her womb clenched him, milking him as he threw his head back, gave in to the sensations, and came inside her.

  Something sharp and painful splintered Vincent’s chest, emotions he didn’t recognize and didn’t want. Emotions a man like him had no right to feel and no right to pursue.

  His breath tore from his throat as he levered himself on his hands and forced himself to push away from her. He’d already crossed the line, and he hadn’t used a damn condom.

  For God’s sake—he couldn’t bring another demon child into the world.

  Clarissa grabbed his arm. “Don’t pull away, Vincent. We were meant to be together.”

  Anger fueled his words. “That’s what my mother said about her and my father. And he ended up killing her.”

  Vincent pried her fingers from his arm, leaving Cla-rissa bereft at his withdrawal. Only seconds earlier they had been connected in the most intimate way possible.

  But their connection hadn’t been only on a physical level. Erotic tremors that still quivered through her paled compared to the depth of the emotions overwhelming her.

  “Don’t do this, Vincent. I love you.”

  She did. Heart, mind, body, soul.

  He angled his head, venom glittering in his eyes. “Love? That wasn’t about love, Clarissa. I told you that before.”

  “But I felt the difference this time, Vincent.” She gripped his arms. “And so did you.”

  “Don’t you get it, Clarissa? I can’t care about anyone, because that makes me a danger to them.”

  She couldn’t let him walk away from her now. “You came back here because we belong together.”

  “I came back here to solve these murders. Because of a demon.”

  “But fighting that demon brought us together.”

  His look hardened even more. “Is that why you screwed me? Some kind of pity fuck because you think you can save me like my mother tried to save my old man?” He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Face the facts, Clarissa. It didn’t work so well for her. My father had evil in his soul, and so do I. He burned my mother at the stake, and if you stay with me, I could turn into him one day and kill you, too.”

  “You won’t do that.”

  “How do you know?” he shouted. “Did the dead come to Crazy Clarissa again and tell you that you’re safe with me?”

  His words cut her to the bone. Kids had called her crazy when she was little, and he’d known it.

  But she hadn’t expected him to say it tonight. She thought he’d accepted who she was.

  How could she have been so wrong?

  “I have blackouts, too,” he said harshly. “Sometimes I lose time, hours, days, where I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve woken up with blood on my clothes, my hands. I can smell the stench of death all over me, and I know that I’ve been at it again. That I’ve gone out to kill.”

  She started to interrupt, but rage burned in his eyes, silencing her.

  “I can’t control when I disappear into that black hole or what I do when I’m there.” He scrubbed a hand over his neck. “Last night, I was sucked back into the hole, and I walked beside the demon when he pushed that girl over the cliff. I stood by and did nothing while she died.” His voice cracked. “That makes me just as responsible for her death as the demon who threw her over the cliff.”

  He flexed his fingers, waved them, and made rocks crumble. “You know I’m not human. My hands are lethal weapons just like my old man’s.” He made another small pile of rocks shatter. “He set things on fire with his hands. I make things explode without even touching them.”

  His choppy breathing rattled in the quiet as he faced her. “Remember all those animals mutilated in the woods? I’ve done that before, Clarissa. When I was a child, my father taught me how to kill with my bare hands. Cruelly, coldly, without remorse.”

  His breath hissed out, filled with self-disgust. “That’s what I am. Part demon, a Dark Lord like my father. You made me realize that, and I have to accept it. And so do you.”

  He stalked away from her, grabbed his clothes, and yanked them on.

  Hurt stabbed her. She was a fool. How many times did he have to tell her that he didn’t want her?

  This was the last time.

  She tore the amulet from her neck and thrust it into his hand.

  His face twisted. “I told you to keep it.”

  “I don’t want it,” she said in a strained whisper. “I don’t want anything to remind me of you after you leave Eerie.”

  His jaw tightened as he folded his hand around the amulet, then he turned and headed toward the tunnel. “I’m going to find a way out of here.”

  She dressed, gave Wulf a command, and followed, her heart shattering, her resolve setting in. She would help him find this demon so the girls could cross over.

  Then she would forget that Vincent ever existed.

  Love?

  Pain and panic shot through Vincent as Clarissa’s words echoed in his head.

  Love? No one except his mother had ever used that word around him. He couldn’t possibly say it in return. Couldn’t feel it, either.

  The only emotions he allowed were anger and hatred. They drove him to do his job. Find killers. Save the innocents.

  Clarissa was an innocent.

  Ironic that she thought she could save him when he had to save her, even if it meant saving her from herself and this ridiculous idea that they belonged together.

  Vincent understood his destiny. He had to be alone.

  Making love to her—no, fucking her—had been a huge mistake, possibly one of the biggest of his life.

  She had gotten under his skin. He only hoped that when he lapsed into one of the black holes again, he didn’t kill her because of it.

  Sadie Sue felt the force of evil gripping her as if she’d been hypnotized by the devil. She had to do his bidding. Had to because she’d sold her soul to him to save her life.

  A life she’d wanted so she could raise Petey.

  Hazy voices whispered in her head, though, warning her that her son would be better in heaven, free from the dangers on earth.

  Safe from her.

  Yes, he’d be better off dead.

  All little babies went to heaven. God would take care of him, then. There’d be no sorrow or pain, only peace forever.

  Little Petey screamed, and she felt the demon’s breath wash over her shoulder. He was watching, waiting for her to put the baby out of his misery.

  She began to shake him.

  “Sadie Sue!” Trina shouted. “You’re going to hurt Petey!”

  Sadie Sue shook the baby harder. “Please, God, take him and give him peace. Keep him safe from me.”

  Petey screamed louder, his tiny fists clenched, his cheeks and face beet red as he wailed harder. Suddenly someone was shaking Sadie Sue, pulling her hands away from the baby.

  “Sadie Sue! What are you doing?” the old woman screeched. “Stop it!”

  Sadie Sue glared at her, and panic flashed in Trina’s eyes. “Lord have mercy . . .”

  The dark commands that had plagued Sadie Sue moments earlier faded slightly, and for a brief second, the horror of what she’d nearly done twisted her insides with nausea. She’d traded her soul to save her son, yet she had almost killed him.

  Sickened, she thrust Petey into Trina’s hands and ran from the room, then outside into the darkness. Tears streaked her face, huge gulping sobs wracking her body. What was she going to do now? The devil owned her, and she had to do his bidding.

  But he wanted her to kill little Petey.

  No. She wouldn’t. She loved her son. She was his mother.

  She had to protect him.

  But what if the evil trapped her again and she couldn’t control it?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Two days until the rising

  Wulf paced over to Clarissa’s side and rubbed up against her leg, then barked.

  S
he stooped to pet him. “I’m glad you’re better, buddy. Drinking from that pool saved you.”

  She patted him again, grateful to have his presence as she felt her way along the dark walls and tried to keep up with Vincent.

  As they left the safety of the clearing, the sacred place where the voices had quieted, they began to haunt her again, screaming, crying for her to release them from their entrapment.

  Ahead, Vincent paused. “This is a dead end.”

  Clarissa’s breath caught. “What do we do now?”

  He turned to her, his eyes dark orbs glowing in the tunnel. “Get back and cover your head. I’ll create an opening.”

  A frisson of fear danced up her spine at his tone, but she did as he ordered. A minute later, he flung his hands, and a rumble began. Rocks falling. Dirt swirling. Pieces of stone flying.

  A faint light spilled in, and fresh air seeped toward her. She uncovered her head, brushing off rock and debris, then stood, shocked to see the damage Vincent had inflicted with just a flick of his bare hands.

  “Come on. We need to get back and talk to Waller.”

  But Waller couldn’t save the girls now, not from some supernatural force. Even she and Vincent weren’t sure how to accomplish that feat.

  “Clarissa?”

  His voice sounded harsh, and she didn’t realize he’d moved up beside her. “Come on. There could be another collapse any minute.”

  But the voices screamed in her head again. “Don’t go.”

  “Don’t leave us.”

  “Help us. We’re trapped.”

  She barely stifled a cry as a lump formed in her throat. How could she desert those who needed her? But how could she right the wrong that had been done to them?

  Vincent grabbed her arm and pulled her forward, pushing her outside into the early-morning darkness.

  She glanced back at the cave and saw bony hands stretching their decaying fingers toward her.

  Oblivious to her turmoil, Vincent coaxed her onward. Wulf barked and nuzzled up beside her, and she knew he understood. She silently vowed to do what she could to save the lost trapped in the mine, but doubts mingled with the cries, overwhelming her with guilt and remorse. So many lost . . . so many needy . . .