Out of the Light, Into the Shadows

by Lori Foster

  Katie couldn’t prevent a moan from slipping past her lips. Dammit, that felt so good, just the slow and leisurely slide of his tongue over her, up and down, warm and sensual. It felt decadent to just lie there and have him coaxing a languid pleasure from her, her eyes drifting closed. He worshipped her with his tongue in a nice easy rhythm, occasionally dipping inside the moist heat of her body, before showering more attention on her tight clitoris.

  It was amazing, to think that this was real, that they were here together, after all this time. It had a surreal quality, like a soft rumpled fantasy, like the whisper of a long-lost memory winding through a lonely mind. She had never thought to be with Michael again, this way, his fingers on her thighs, his mouth expressing his love in an intimate physical gesture that left her floating in pleasure.

  When she started to feel restless, her ankles moving on the bed, her back arching, when the need to either orgasm or shift positions became frenetic, Katie grabbed Michael’s head and dug her hands into his hair. “Come here,” she told him.

  “Why? I’m enjoying this.” He gave another lingering lick.

  Oh, she was, too. “But I want to touch you. At the same time you’re touching me.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying …”

  She shot him a grin. “Yes.” As much as she loved him offering such delicious devotion to her, she wanted to run her hands over his hard body, taste his flesh, take him in her mouth and give him as much pleasure in return as he was giving her.

  Michael squeezed Katie’s thighs, his erection responding to her saucy smile by growing hard enough to cut glass. A hundred years was a long time to go without sex, but that wasn’t the only reason. Not only was she damn beautiful, she was sexy and passionate as well. He had always appreciated her enthusiasm, and it turned him on beyond anything to know that she wanted him, that she enjoyed sex as much as he did.

  “Well, I’m not stupid enough to say no to that,” he told her, shifting his position on the bed.

  His tongue had barely slid across her clitoris when her fingers gripped the bottom of his cock and her warm mouth covered him. Michael groaned, closing his eyes against the wave of pleasure that crashed over him. God, that felt amazing. Each stroke, him on her, her on him, back and forth, over and over, shoved him deeper into ecstasy. There was nothing but the two of them, in that moment, bodies entwined, flesh to flesh, soul to soul.

  When it became too much, when he was too close to losing it, Michael pulled back and moved quickly before Katie could protest. She was wiping her moist lips, about to voice a protest, her eyes heavy with desire, when he moved between her thighs and pushed into her.

  She gasped. He groaned. Michael paused, savoring the sensation of throbbing in her tight body, his tongue thick, body covered with a hot sheen of sweat. “Oh, Maria, he said, unable to force her new name past his lips. “You feel … so good.”

  It wasn’t unique or romantic or prizewinning, but he was incapable of thinking beyond simple words, reduced to nothing but sensation. Michael started to move inside her, and when she lifted her hips to meet him, nails digging into his back, he thrust harder, faster.

  Katie was tearing into his flesh, body arching up, cries careening and desperate, spurring him on, before she startled the hell out of him by sinking her fangs into his shoulder. He paused inside her, erection full and swollen, her heat surrounding him, as she sucked his blood, the pull of her teeth an erotic walk across his veins.

  Never, in his entire long life, had anything felt as amazing and sensual and all-consuming as the feel of her in him and him in her simultaneously.

  She fell back against the pillow, lips crimson from his blood. “Oh, I’m coming.”

  So was he. “Come for me,” he demanded even as he felt her orgasm in its beginning quiver, her muscles contracting around him.

  “Yes!” she said, squeezing his back even tighter.

  Michael let go, stopped trying to make it last, and just pounded into her, his own orgasm joining hers in a hot, frantic blending of their bodies.

  “I love you.” she said.

  A hundred years of anguish disappeared for him instantly. “I love you, too.”

  MICHAEL lay in bed with Katie, content to just hold her against his chest. He was thirsty, and would enjoy a good glass of blood, but he had no desire or ambition to get up and leave the warm bed. But Katie started fidgeting, her hand repeatedly moving over her neck and collarbone.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked her.

  “This necklace itches like crazy. But I don’t want to take it off. I know it’s stupid, but I really want to wear it.”

  Michael shifted so he could see. Her skin beneath the chain was no longer alabaster, but an angry red, almost like a burn. Vampires didn’t get skin rashes, so he knew it had something to do with the power of the vial. This could be his opportunity to get the necklace away from her without her being suspicious. He didn’t want it leading Rasputin to Katie, but neither did he want to reveal the whole of what it was, unsure of what her reaction would be.

  “It looks like it’s the chain that’s irritating your skin. Why don’t I take it and get a new chain for you?”

  “Oh, okay, that’s sweet of you.” She turned her head and smiled at him. “Do I have to take it off or can you just go buy a new chain?”

  “It’s kind of a funny shape, sweetheart, I think I need to take it with me to make sure I can fit the chain through the hole.”

  “Good point.” Katie reached up and took off the necklace. She squeezed the egg and sunburst before carefully handing it over to him.

  Michael set it on the nightstand beside the bed and told her, “I’m very happy. I hope you are, too.”

  “I am.”

  “I want to be with you.” He pulled her closer, wanting to feel her whole body caressing the length of him.

  “I want to be with you, too.”

  “Do you believe me about the past? Do you trust me?”

  Katie hesitated slightly. “I want to.”

  He did not like the sound of that. “I’m telling you the truth. If we’re going to be together, you need to accept it.”

  Hell, he wasn’t trying to be stubborn or a jackass, but if they were going to build a future together, they had to put the past to rest. They needed to heal the hurts, and the only way to do that was to trust each other. He trusted her, believed in her feelings and her intentions, and he needed the same in return. It had been so long that he’d been without her, he needed to know that she was in this for real, for the long haul.

  Katie couldn’t believe Michael was going to ruin the perfectly blissful moment of lying in bed together, satisfied and in love.

  But he clearly was.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Michael, don’t push this.” Katie turned onto her side so she could look at him. “I just had my whole perception of what happened turned upside down. Of course I still have doubts and fear and hesitation. I think that’s perfectly natural given what has happened.”

  She didn’t want to think about this, worry about the future. Making love to Michael again had been so satisfying, physically and emotionally, and she just wanted to savor the sensation, the perfect moment of contentedness she was living in.

  Because when she started to think, doubts crept in. It was a lifetime of misperception—or so he told her. If she started analyzing, wondering, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. Hell, even saying he hadn’t been with another woman wasn’t logical if she dissected it. That could just as easily be a lie as well, and she didn’t want to be forced to confront that.

  “So what are we supposed to do? How long am I supposed to wait until you decide you trust me? And what does that even mean … ? How can we have a relationship when you think I’m a complete asshole?”

  She sighed. So much for not having to confront the situation. He was going to be irrational. Fabulous. “I never said you were a complete asshole. I said I want to believe you. I’m trying to
believe you. I just need some time and some reassurance. Is that so much to ask for?”

  He sat up in bed and tossed the covers off. “I have no idea how to do that. And while I understand what you’re saying, and I know you’ve been hurt—so have I.” Michael swung his legs around and put his feet on the floor. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I don’t know how to be with you and know that you don’t believe me. That you want to believe me, because you love me, but that even any small part of you could suspect I’m the kind of man who would betray my lover and her family … I just can’t be comfortable with that.”

  Katie pulled the covers over her bare chest, a chill rushing over her body. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you’re either with me one hundred percent or you’re not. That if you need time to decide what is right and what is wrong and how you feel, I think you need to do that separate from me. I can’t be with you, fall in love with you all over again, and yet be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Do you understand? I can’t be wondering all the time if today is the day you decide I’m a scoundrel and leave me.”

  She did understand that. She just didn’t like it. Because she couldn’t give him what he was asking for.

  “Michael, I want to, believe me, I do. I just can’t right now, not yet.” She ran her fingers down his strong and muscular back. “My heart was shattered into a thousand pieces. I can’t glue it back together overnight.”

  Katie fought against the tears that were threatening, unable to swallow past the sudden tightness in her throat.

  He half turned. “And I understand, I do. But I guess I need to protect myself as much as you need to protect yourself.”

  She watched him stand up and put on his boxer shorts, not looking at her. “So what does that mean? Where does that leave us?”

  Michael ran his fingers through his hair, his expression troubled but determined. “It means that I’m giving you the space to decide what it is you believe, what it is you want. I’ll leave Vegas.” He rummaged around on the dresser across from the bed, writing on the hotel notepad before turning back to her. Holding up a key, he said, “When you’re ready, use this key. Here’s the address.”

  The pad of paper and the key sailed through the air and landed on the comforter in front of her knee. She picked the pad up and read an address in Birmingham, England. Katie fingered the key, running the tip of her finger across the jagged edge, not sure what to say.

  “I … I love you,” she finally said, letting the tears she’d been trying to contain push forth.

  Michael sighed. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I love you, too. More than anything in this world. When you’re ready, come to England. Until then, I bid you adieu, my love. I’m going to take a shower.”

  “So this is good-bye?” She gripped the notepad and the key tighter.

  “This is good-bye. Until you decide otherwise.”

  Then Michael turned and went into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click.

  Katie sat on the bed, still rumpled and warm from their lovemaking, and wondered why it was that her past emitted such a loud echo that she could no longer hear the future.

  SEVEN

  AFTER she pulled on her work clothes from the night before, Katie fought back the tears as she slunk back to her room, keeping her head down so she didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone walking the hallway in the opposite direction. When she got to her room, she called Nick, hoping he hadn’t gone to bed yet.

  “Hey,” she said when he answered. Then promptly burst into tears.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “No. Can you come over?”

  “Of course.”

  He was there in two minutes and the instant Katie saw his big, steady form crowding up her doorway, she launched herself into his arms and let the tears turn into sobs. It was so damn unfair that she could have Michael walk back into her life and yet be emotionally unable to hold on to him.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Nick patted her back and led her into the room, closing the door behind him. “What the hell happened?”

  Soaking his T-shirt with tears, Katie lifted her head. “Do you remember how I told you I was engaged? And how he betrayed me? Well, my ex-fiancé just showed up in Vegas.”

  “Oh, geez, I’m sorry, sweetie. Was he horrible to you?” Nick’s dark eyes were filled with concern. “I can tell him to stay away from you.”

  Nick was a bodyguard and huge. The sight of him intimidated most men, but in this case it was ironic that Michael had technically walked away. Katie didn’t need Nick to threaten him to keep his distance, which somehow made it all the worse.

  “No, he wasn’t horrible to me. He explained to me what happened, that he wasn’t responsible for turning us in to the revolutionaries. He said he has been looking for me all these years. And I want to believe him, I do, but it’s so hard. I trusted everyone in those days, and it was stupid and naïve.” Katie stepped back and wiped her eyes. “I’m afraid to be hurt all over again.”

  “Wait a minute. You thought he turned your family in? When you told me he betrayed you I thought you meant that he had cheated on you.”

  Katie frowned, sniffling. “I never said he cheated on me.”

  “I just assumed that’s what you meant. Why would you think he turned you in? What is his name?”

  “Michael St. Markov. And I thought he did because he was there, that day, in the palace, looking like he was BFF with the Bolsheviks.”

  Nick’s jaw dropped open. “Oh, my God, are you serious? Markov was your fiancé? Oh, baby, no, no, he did not turn you in. He was trying to prevent them from killing your family by being sympathetic to them so he could have a position to negotiate leniency from. He was the one who hired me to be there in that room. I was supposed to let him know if anything happened, but there was no time. They shot all of you, I turned you to vampire, and then we were on the run. I thought it was best to hide our location, our names, from everyone, including him. But I didn’t know about you and him … I had no idea.”

  Katie wasn’t sure if she should jump up and down for joy or if she should find a way to kick herself in the ass. “Are you sure? But why did he have my mother’s enamel box?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Did you ask him about the box?”

  “He said he pocketed it before our possessions were stolen and sold to save it for me.”

  “That sounds reasonable to me. I’m sure he risked a great deal to pilfer that. If he had been caught, it wouldn’t have been good for him.”

  Katie put her hands over her eyes and pressed above her eyebrows. God, she had a headache. “So, why is it that I can hear you say it and believe you, but I doubted him?”

  Nick gently pulled her arms down. “Because you’ve been hurt. That’s understandable. Ninety years is a long time to have pain simmering. But the question is, do you want to be with him? Do you still love him?”

  As if she’d ever stopped. “Yes, I do.” The tears renewed and she had to stop speaking to choke them back. “But I’ve blown it.”

  “How did he leave it?”

  “He told me if I wanted to trust him, to have a future, that I should meet him in England.” She pulled the address and key out of her pocket and held them up. “I guess this is his house.”

  “Then I guess you need to book yourself an airline ticket and go to England.”

  “Do you really think I should?” Katie bit her fingernail.

  “I know so. But what do you think?”

  Katie felt a surge of hope rise up in her. She loved that man, with all of her girlish and now very much adult heart. “Tally ho, I think that I’m going to England.”

  THE necklace was off Katie. Rasputin clenched his fists in frustration. He had felt it the minute she had removed it. The power was gone, the glow of his matching vial diminished, the connection he’d felt to her life force, the sweet pulsation of her blood through her veins, gone.

  “Sergei!” he shouted, cl
imbing out of his bed in the suite of rooms they had taken. He cast a cursory glance at the woman next to him, snoring lightly in a sleep so deep it was subterranean. Between the alcohol she had consumed and the blood Rasputin had taken from her, not to mention multiple orgasms, she would be out for hours.

  “Yes?” Sergei appeared in the door, not even blinking at the state of the disheveled bed, the naked woman, or the dried blood from his lover that Rasputin had smeared all over his chest, lips, and hands.

  “I have to go out. When she wakes up, get rid of her.”

  Sergei raised an impassive eyebrow. “Kill her?”

  Rasputin rolled his eyes. “No! Don’t be so damn dramatic. I meant call her a fucking cab and send her home.”

  “Oh, okay. Absolutely.”

  As Rasputin started pulling on his clothes, Sergei stood in the doorway, just staring at him, eyes unblinking behind his glasses. The man was a total freak, and Rasputin wondered if it was time for a new assistant. Either that or get him a prostitute. Maybe that would loosen him up.

  “Do you like women?” Rasputin asked him as he tugged on a T-shirt that smelled like sweat. He could go dig through his suitcase for a clean one, but it seemed like too much effort. “Or do you prefer men? Or are you just asexual?”

  “I like women, sir. In theory.”

  That made Rasputin laugh. “Go out and get laid, Sergei. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Right now he was going to find that little bitch Katie and figure out what the hell she had done with his vial of vampire blood.

  TWE NTY-FOUR exhausting hours later, Katie found herself staring out the window at what was clearly a storage unit in an industrial park. “Are you sure this is right?” she asked the cab driver.

  Something was wrong. Why the hell would Michael live in a storage unit?

  “It’s right. Unless the address you gave me was wrong.” The cabdriver looked irritated, like he was tempted to grab his money and toss her out into the street so he could be on to the next fare.