Both of them gasped at the contact. Tory spun and stared at Naomi, who was as shocked as Tory looked. Slowly she pulled her hand away. Immediately she wanted to put it back.
“I’m sorry,” Naomi whispered.
Tory didn’t say anything, just took her hand. The spark was still there, only this time she was ready for it. What in the world was happening?
She couldn’t seem to move. The feel of Tory’s skin against hers was exciting and very, very frightening. Despite her chosen profession and night after night of preaching from the pulpit with people all around her, she was a loner by choice. Companionship and love simply weren’t in the cards for her, and spending a lot of time and effort pretending otherwise didn’t change a thing. Her destiny was solitude, especially after what she’d done.
This connection with Tory scared her. She’d grown comfortable in her isolated existence and the way it kept her heart safe. Everyone she could help, she did. Still, no one got past the wall she’d erected. Feeling anything beyond empathy or compassion was not welcome.
“Why are you afraid?”
Because I hurt those I care for the most. “I’m not,” she lied.
Tory’s eyes narrowed. “You asked me to spill my secrets and I did. Your turn to tell me yours.”
Naomi wanted to call her on that one. Yes, Tory had shared a secret with her and she appreciated the courage it took to do that. On the other hand, Naomi had spent enough time counseling troubled souls to know the beautiful woman still held more secrets tight in her soul. Sharing only one was a far cry from opening up.
“I can’t.”
It wasn’t a lie. Baring her soul was an impossible thing to ask of her. Owning up to what she’d done wasn’t the problem. The repulsion that would undoubtedly fill Tory’s eyes if she was to hear the truth was what kept it from passing her lips. The only way Naomi knew how to get from one day to the next was by leaving the truth buried beneath the façade that was her life now.
Tory stroked her cheek with a soothing touch. She should move away. The touch of Tory’s fingertips against her skin was so gentle and caring, Naomi leaned into her instead of away.
“Sometimes you have to trust other people.”
Naomi closed her eyes briefly. Nothing like having her own words turned back on her. Still, it would take a lot more courage than she possessed to trust. “And sometimes you can’t risk it.”
“I trusted you and now you need to trust me. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”
“It’s not being hurt I’m worried about.”
“Then what?”
Giving up didn’t appear to be on Tory’s agenda. Painful as it might be, the truth needed to be said. “I don’t want you to hate me.” She stared at Tory, waiting for the light to dawn.
Instead, Tory’s gaze grew soft. She pulled Naomi’s head down to hers and kissed her lightly, the gentle brush of a butterfly’s wings. Against her lips she said, “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”
She wanted to believe that and knew better. Her sins were too great, no matter how long she tried to make amends. As much as she’d like to lay bare her horrible deeds and hope for forgiveness from this beautiful woman, it simply wasn’t possible. In the real world it didn’t happen for people like her.
Beyond the closed door, the rustle of movement almost distracted her. The others were up and about. All she had to do was open the door and walk out. This, whatever it was, would be over. A couple of steps to the door—that’s all it would take and she could pretend she didn’t feel a thing for Tory. She didn’t move.
“Trust me,” Tory murmured, her hands sliding beneath Naomi’s shirt. “I won’t hate you. Not now. Not ever.”
Just the mere touch of skin against skin had her nipples hardening in anticipation of Tory’s loving attention. Her resolve to stay neutral dissolved and she captured Tory’s face, stroking the smooth skin of her cheeks with her thumbs. The kiss deepened and she pushed her tongue past her lips to search and taste. How she could lose herself in this woman. Forget the past and live in just this moment. It would be so easy. How could something that felt this good be wrong?
Her heart beat quickly and it occurred to her she couldn’t walk away even if she wanted to. She was drawn to Tory, heart and soul, and while the attraction scared her, the fear no longer stopped her. Touching her, tasting her, was the most natural thing in the world and she wanted more. Even if it was only for this one night, she wanted to love and be loved.
Maybe Tory was right. Maybe it was time to trust. Maybe it was time to listen to her heart.
*
“Tell me,” Ivy said when he walked into the bedroom and draped his jacket over the back of the wing chair in front of the window.
“Nothing to tell.” Liar, liar, pants on fire, as his little sister used to say.
He dropped to the bed, meaning only to sit down for a few minutes. Instead, he lay back against the pillows at the same time he kicked off his shoes. They clattered to the floor. Stretched out on top of the bedcovers, he closed his eyes and for the first time in a really long time thought about his family without the deep heartache. Rather than feeling the crushing sadness, he smiled remembering joyous Christmas mornings, summer picnics under sunny skies, and quiet winter nights around a roaring fire built by his father.
Not saying anything, Ivy stretched out beside him and draped an arm over his middle. The feel of her lithe body next to his, the weight of her arm across his midsection was a comfort he didn’t think he could ever live without. The tension still in his body began to ease out of him and he pondered the strange way his life seemed to be coming full circle.
“I went to see them today.”
He knew he didn’t have to elaborate on whom. That was one of the beautiful things about loving another person; they knew most of the other one’s secrets. As much as he’d shared with Ivy, though, he still didn’t have the courage to reveal a few of his darkest corners.
Her hand moved up to stroke across his chest. Even through the cloth of his shirt, he could feel the warmth of her hand. She smelled wonderful, just a light touch of intoxicating perfume. Her black hair was soft against his arm where her head lay cradled close.
His eyes closed, he told her, “I’ve never gone before.”
“It was time,” she said softly, still caressing his chest.
“Yeah, it was. Past time, really. I should have gone before. What kind of son doesn’t visit his parents’ graves?”
“You weren’t ready before, and I know they understand.”
“I’m not sure I was ready today. I always thought I’d be able to come here and tell them I killed the bastard who took their lives.”
“But you couldn’t.”
“No, I still don’t know who did it. I sure as hell don’t know why and then…”
Her hand stilled and he wished he could have stopped the words before they came out of his mouth. He couldn’t and he didn’t think she expected him to.
“You couldn’t tell them you’re in love with a vampire.” Her words were so soft he barely heard them.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “A vampire stole their lives and destroyed my entire family. I spent all of my adult years killing them, all in a vain effort to avenge their deaths. I did it willingly because every vampire had to pay for what one did. You…I never saw you coming, Ivy.”
She rose and sat cross-legged beside him, one hand pushing the hair from his forehead. “If I could change what I am and go back to being human, I’d do it in a second. I can’t, and even though being a vampire sucks—literally—it has let me be with you. I regret a lot of things but not that.”
He took her hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing her palm. “I know, baby, I feel the same way. I stood at their graves today and tried to tell them why I made the decisions I have. I still haven’t given up my quest to find their killer, but I don’t think I could live without you by my side.”
“I know I couldn’t,” she said, pressing her lips against his.
“You make it all okay, even the darkness. And your family, they understand. I believe that with all my heart.”
He deepened the kiss, flicking his tongue between her lips. Would he ever weary of the sweet taste of her? No. Even when he grew old and she didn’t, it would all still be worth the price they both paid. He’d never imagined having the unconditional love she gave him every day. He would walk through the fires of hell for her.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you too. Forever.”
*
He thought about things for hours. His plans hadn’t jelled like he wished and needed to be tweaked. So close but not quite there yet. Disappointing really. He’d considered his plan so perfect.
Then again, maybe it was just as well. More fun when things were spontaneous, more exciting. A bit like a cat playing with a mouse and letting the mouse get away just far enough to think it was safe before pouncing and ripping off its head. That’s the way it felt to him now. He was letting her believe she was out of his reach, and then when she was all warm and cozy, he’d strike the final blow. It would be sweet.
Tonight called for a little something special, something that would stir things up to the frenzied pitch he’d been aiming for since he arrived in the nation’s capital. His casual drop of bodies hadn’t produced quite the fervor he wanted. Time to step up the game.
Meagan had turned out to be a great disappointment. He’d brought her out for what he thought would be a nice little hunt before they fucked their brains out, but she’d gone all commando vampire on a guy in an alley not far from the Pentagon. She was a mess, the guy was ripped apart, and it dawned on him that he’d created a monster, quite literally. He really didn’t see that he had a choice.
He’d made her. He put her down. Both Meagan and the man she’d attacked were tucked away in a Dumpster a few blocks from the Pentagon. He jumped on the Metro and rode across town. By the time their remains were discovered, he’d be long gone. Next time he had the urge to make himself a pet, he’d be sure to remember Meagan and how wrong that all went.
Alone again, he leaned against the railing at the entrance to the Metro station and watched people come and go. He smelled her before he saw her, a tall, willowy redhead wearing shaded glasses even though the sun was long down. Her slim pants tucked into tall leather boots and hip-length sweater were stylish. The click of her boot heels was steady as she strode up the street in the direction of the National Zoo. She looked as though she belonged here. Nothing about her screamed werewolf, but she was one. Another werewolf. Perfect.
If she sensed him, she didn’t let on. Good. He followed her past the zoo, closed at this time of night, and watched her walk up a few steps to a very nice home. The man who opened the door to her was one hundred percent human. Even better.
Now he just had to wait for the perfect moment and then bam, one well-placed little push would put it all into motion. He could feel it in the air. The fear was palpable, thick as a northeastern fog, exactly what he hoped for. Tonight the city was his to do with as he pleased. The puppet master was about to pull some strings.
A bolt of lightning lit up the sky. The air turned heavy and before he ducked beneath the low-hanging boughs of the tree, big raindrops hit him on the top of the head. Electricity rippled through his body. The unanticipated storm was fantastic. Thunder was booming when he crossed the small yard and slipped in through an unlocked rear door. Under the cover of the storm, the screams inside went unnoticed.
Later, when he let himself out the back door of the same house, he was pleased with the results of his patient wait. He vaulted over the fence separating this house from the nearest neighbor and jogged across the tidy green lawn. He stopped long enough to right a ceramic gnome before letting himself out the gate. When he reached the sidewalk he slowed to a casual walk. His shoes were wet from the rain deposited by the storm. It had passed through, leaving the grounds and the streets soaked. The air was washed clean and he filled his lungs with the fresh scent.
In the distance the sound of sirens grew louder, and lights began to snap on in houses up and down the street. The 911 call just before he left the house brought quick results. Emergency services that would be wholly ineffective were mere minutes away. He wasn’t worried about being seen. From all appearances, he was just another neighbor out for an evening walk. They wouldn’t connect him with what they’d find inside the lovely home. They would, however, know exactly what happened. So would anyone else who got a glimpse inside, and one glimpse was all it would take to snap the fragile thread of calm holding society in check.
The sound of a gunshot split the quiet night just as he started down the stairs at the Metro station. Snap! He whistled a bright tune as he hopped on the Red Line and took a seat next to one of the sliding doors.
*
Bad timing was an understatement. Tory hadn’t felt such an air of barely restrained violence in centuries. Just outside the doors of the beautiful home, a city was on the edge of exploding.
Didn’t matter. All that did matter was Naomi, and at the moment she was in Tory’s arms. The emotion that she’d promised herself never to feel again surged up as if released from long-term captivity. Her skin tingled, her breath quickened, her fingers itched to run through Naomi’s shiny hair.
No. No. No.
She couldn’t allow this to happen. She started to step away but Naomi firmly gripped her wrists. Dark eyes met hers and what she saw there took her breath away.
“I know,” Naomi said simply. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t stop this and I don’t think you can either. You might end up hating me, but for this one night, I want to pretend I’m not a monster. I want to love you. I don’t want to fight this thing between us anymore.”
Tory stopped her retreat. She couldn’t argue because she felt exactly the same thing. Freeing her wrist, she touched Naomi’s face. Whatever secrets the other woman held in her heart, Tory didn’t believe it was anything she could ever hate her for. Of all people, she’d be the last one to cast the first stone…or any stone, for that matter. She shuddered to think about her years as a no-holds-barred vampire. If Naomi had a clue about Tory’s ugly past, the woman would be running far, far away.
She wasn’t running even in the face of her own obvious inner turmoil. Ghosts had her in their grasp and Tory wondered if she’d ever be free. Old tricks were what she wanted now, ways to tuck those memories into dark, faraway corners so she could savor the beauty of a single moment. Even if it was only for an hour, it was all they’d need, for now.
Time to stop lying to Naomi and to herself. “I want to love you too.” She drew Naomi down until their lips met.
She skimmed the soft skin of Naomi’s neck, trailing her fingers down to flesh exposed by the opened neckline of her shirt. Naomi sighed against Tory’s lips. Any resistance was quickly fading away.
She began with the buttons on Naomi’s shirt. One by one they slipped open until she could push the fabric off her shoulders. Suddenly, Naomi pulled away and gathered the fabric to her breast.
“What is it?” Tory asked her in a gentle voice.
A tear slid down Naomi’s cheek as she took a step away. “Too ugly,” she said, the two words barely audible.
Tory didn’t understand. “You’re beautiful.” She wasn’t lying either. Everything about this woman made her blood run hot. Ugly wasn’t even in the vocabulary.
Naomi pulled the shirt tighter around her body. “The scars.”
It took a second before it dawned on her. Slowly, gently, she took Naomi’s hands and freed them from their death grip on the shirt. She slid the shirt off her shoulders and dropped it to the floor.
In the muted light of the bedroom, she tenderly touched the ragged white lines that started above her right breast, disappearing into the top of her bra only to appear again below. She didn’t say a word. Instead she leaned close and kissed the top of the scar, kissed her breast through the bra, and then dropped her head until she could kiss it where
it lay jagged against Naomi’s stomach. Her skin was heated against her lips.
Tory brought her head up and gazed into Naomi’s tormented eyes. “Whoever did this to you only marred your skin. They could never destroy your beauty.”
“So ugly,” Naomi murmured, but this time the dread Tory had heard only moments before wasn’t there.
“Beautiful,” Tory said against her lips.
“I haven’t…not since…”
Tory understood. Scars weren’t always visible. Hers were on the inside, and she knew exactly how long it had taken before she could allow another woman to touch her.
She took Naomi’s hand and placed it on her breasts. Her touch was hot even through Tory’s shirt. “Touch me. Let me touch you. There’s nothing wrong or ugly about it.”
The dam broke and Naomi dropped her hands to the hem of Tory’s shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over her head. Unlike Naomi, Tory wasn’t wearing a bra. Silence fell over them as Naomi gazed on Tory’s naked chest. The expression on her face brought heat pooling between her legs.
Naomi groaned before dropping her head to suck a nipple into her mouth. The warm sensation of her tongue against her breast almost made Tory come right then. Her head fell back and her eyes closed. She wanted this moment and this feeling to go on forever.
Even as glorious as it felt, Tory wanted more. She took Naomi’s hand and tugged her toward the bed. In a rush they both stripped out of the rest of their clothes on the way and fell together on the big bed. As she kissed Naomi, she slid her hand between her legs, finding her hot and wet. She rubbed her fingers over Naomi’s clit, satisfied by her low moans.
Shifting, Tory moved until she was between Naomi’s legs. Slowly she licked the small nub as Naomi’s hips moved. She slid two fingers inside where she was very wet, moving in and out as she licked and nipped. Naomi gathered wads of the bedcovers in her hands as her body strained against Tory’s touch.
Naomi came with a strangled cry and Tory continued to lick as her body arched. Spent, Naomi sank back to the bed. Tory smiled and laid her head on Naomi’s stomach.
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