He pulled my free leg around him, the other one trapped under the tangle of my skirt, to rock me against his hips while his chest flattened my breasts. That hard bulge raked against my most sensitive part, the pressure building with each strong, undulating stroke, until finally I cried out as rapture shattered within me.
It spread from my loins into what felt like every vein, filling my body with hot, silken throbs. I couldn’t stop the gasps that Rafael absorbed between deep, branding kisses as I shuddered, those throbs turning into waves of sweetness. I felt like I was melting, sinking into his skin with each ripple of ecstasy, and if he wouldn’t have held me, I’d have tumbled onto the carriage floor.
“This is what I’ve waited for,” he muttered thickly when I tore my mouth from his to take in gulps of air. He stroked my hair away from my face, still holding me with his other arm, the flickering candlelight revealing a look of triumph and possessiveness on his face.
Confusion and embarrassment competed with euphoria from the spine-tingling orgasm. So much for “acting” with Rafael! Ten minutes into making out and he’d blown away anything my two former lovers had made me feel—all without taking off his pants or kissing me below the neck. If this was what he could do to me with foreplay, I might die from pleasure overload if I actually had sex with him.
But these circumstances weren’t real. Oh, if only they were, I’d be giddy instead of fighting off a stab of guilt. Yet despite how I wished to do anything except what lay ahead, chances were Rafael was using me for even more sinister purposes than what I had planned. I might want to believe his interest was genuine, his passion without ulterior motive, but then I’d be ignoring the pile of evidence that suggested he was involved with Purebloods. Rafael might have been the man of my dreams since I was fifteen, but that didn’t change the fact that he had a dark cloud hanging over his activities.
Otherwise, hell, I might have even been tempted to move to Nocturna to be closer to him. Electricity was overrated, plus cell phones and gas fumes were bad for my health. But here, I could be with Rafael and neither of us would even age. I wouldn’t be saying good-bye to my family, either. They could still visit me and I could go back to see them. . . .
I gave my head another shake, harder this time. One orgasm and I was mentally picking out wallpaper to redecorate Rafael’s home with. So much for moonlighting as a tough undercover Partial operative. The word pathetic applied to me right now.
With relief, I felt the carriage shudder and sway as it went over a particularly bumpy stretch of road. We had to be on the drawbridge outside Rafael’s home. That was an obvious indicator that the person whose arms I was still curled inside had nefarious connections. Rafael lived in a castle surrounded by a moat, for Pete’s sake. Even for a demon ruler, that was piling on the creepiness.
“We’re here,” he said, giving me a kiss that still incited shivers even though I’d managed to patch up most of my tattered self-control.
“Good. I-I want to finish things,” I stammered when he lifted his head.
His smile was dark, wicked, and tempting. “Oh, we shall. As soon as we’re inside.”
I shifted to unseat myself from his lap, feeling suddenly clumsy and awkward as I buttoned my blouse without bothering to rehook my bra. The bumps from the carriage kept swaying me into him, hampering my progress. He lifted me, setting me back onto the bench with his usual smooth, controlled movements, not even a grunt to show for it. The strength and grace I’d so often admired in Rafael would prove to be my biggest obstacle soon. I’d have just one chance to take him down or the jig would be up.
It’s the only way, I reminded myself, forcing a smile as he leaned down to brush his lips across my temple. I knew it was true.
Yet if I knew that, why did it still feel so wrong?
CHAPTER FOUR
Rafael didn’t bother buttoning his shirt or his vest. Both hung open, revealing the hard lines of his chest, with its impossibly smooth flesh. I tried not to stare as he jumped out of the carriage and held out his hands to me, his clothes gaping open even further with the action. I accepted his help down, determining then and there to make my move before he took off all his clothes. Otherwise I might be too busy drooling to do anything else.
The warm pressure of his body taunted me as we walked up a narrow outdoor corridor. I glanced around discreetly, noting the torches set up in various places along the high walls and the deep shadows between them. If he had guards, they were concealed in the various darkened recesses of this medieval castle knockoff. I kept taking mental notes as we walked further inside the stone behemoth. Two lefts past the fancy sword display, a right at the ancient-looking tapestry, up two flights of stairs, then left at the flame-eyed gargoyle, up another flight of stairs, left at the blacked-out window, and then through the second wide door on the right.
It opened up into a room that looked like a snapshot of a gothic fantasy. Candlelight made the dark gray walls appear welcoming, while the ceiling had to be twenty feet high, with designs carved into what looked like opaque glass. A large leather chair had a book perched on its arm, facedown and open to mark its place. Boots I’d seen Rafael wear before were carelessly tucked into an open alcove next to more pairs of masculine footwear. Another archway, a smaller one, opened to a dark space that I couldn’t see inside but assumed must be a closet or bathroom.
And of course, in the center of the room was a large bed with sumptuous pillows and thick blankets in varying shades of indigo. A nearby fireplace cast low lights onto the bed, revealing that it was unmade, an indentation from a large body still visible in its surface.
Rafael’s room. By all accounts, the place he never brought anyone back to.
His arms encircled me from behind, pulling me against him. For a moment, I closed my eyes, absorbing the feel of his body and the heat sinking into my back from the bare skin of his chest. If circumstances had been different, I’d have turned around, pressed my mouth to his, and tumbled us both onto that inviting navy bed.
Instead, I stroked his arm with one hand while I surreptitiously dipped the other one into my gun belt. He brushed aside the hair on the back of my neck with his mouth, tracing his tongue into the sensitive dip there. Erotic tremors broke out across my skin, increasing when he breathed my name into the same spot with a voice gone scratchy from desire.
Damn, damn, damn him for making me feel this way, when he might be involved with Purebloods!
I unfastened my belt, letting it drop to the floor with both guns still in their holsters. Then I turned around, wrapping my arms quickly around his neck. His mouth came down onto mine, scorching me with passion, while his hands tightened on my waist to bring our bodies closer.
Those hands clenched convulsively in the next moment. I froze, my heart rate tripling, braced for pain but unable to extricate myself from his embrace. He didn’t strike out, though for the space of several heartbeats, I could tell he was lucid enough to. Then, slowly, his hands relaxed and he pulled away, a look on his face that I didn’t want to name.
Finally, his legs buckled and he fell to the floor with more grace than someone unconscious had a right to. The end of an empty syringe still protruded from his neck, a little something I’d carried in my gun belt for months in the hopes that I’d get to use it on Ashton one day. I’d never thought I’d use it on Rafael, and certainly not like this.
It paid to have a Partial relative employed at an animal reserve. That needle had been filled with enough sedative to fell a small elephant—or the two-hundred-pound ruler of Nocturna, as it turned out. I stared down at Rafael, guilt once more swirling inside me, before pushing it back with all the ruthlessness of my supernatural heritage. I’d had to do it. Somewhere in this castle that few ever saw the inside of had to be a link to Rafael and Purebloods. He couldn’t have ruled Nocturna for over two centuries without knowing far more than he claimed to about the kidnappings.
And I
doubted that any of his people here would dare to disturb their master for the next several hours, at least. Not with what everyone had to assume we were doing. If I was stealthy enough, I could soon find out more about Rafael than anyone else had in decades. That information might mean the difference between life and death for some unlucky young Partials who ventured into Nocturna even though they, like me, knew the dangers.
Besides, once Rafael woke up, I’d better be long gone from here, or guilt would be the least of my problems with him.
• • •
After what had to be two hours of furtive searching, I was both frustrated and confused. I’d found nothing interesting except a lot of neat, barbaric antiques, and for all that the castle was large, so far I’d only come across four guards. Two of them seemed most interested in protecting the food in what I surmised was the kitchen, from the sounds of laughter, burping, and pots clanging together. The other guards were outside the castle, patrolling the perimeter and making sure no one snuck in by swimming the moat, I guessed. What I couldn’t understand was why.
For all its size and impressive adornments, the place seemed strangely barren of people. It didn’t make sense. Rafael was renowned for his fighting skills, true, but everyone had to sleep eventually, and he’d left himself virtually unprotected here.
The thought of Rafael and sleeping made another twinge of guilt flare in me. God, his face when he realized what I’d done! Even though I tried to push the image aside, it rose in my mind anyway. He’d looked shocked, which I’d expected, but there had been more to it than that.
He looked betrayed, my human conscience whispered.
I had no choice, the demon in me snarled back.
There are always choices, my conscience countered ruthlessly.
Not this time. I’d asked Rafael repeatedly why he had been there the night Ashton had taken Gloria, and every time he answered, some part of me knew he was lying. Why would he lie if he hadn’t been in on it somehow? Add that to the whispers about Rafael that Gloria’s parents had uncovered during their previous searches here, plus the things I’d heard about how he was always conveniently close by when Purebloods were sighted, and it all added up to one thing: guilty. My not wanting it to be true because of a long-held infatuation didn’t change that.
So, if I were the guilty ruler of a large dimension populated by Partials who would descend on me en masse if they found out about my involvement, where would I hide evidence of that guilt? What would I consider to be the least likely place where someone could stumble across some form of damning clue that would tie me to Purebloods? Somewhere in this house, obviously. For the average Partial, it was harder to get inside Rafael’s castle than it was for a typical American to get a private audience with the president. But this place was huge. Damn it, if only I had more time to search! There could be hidden catacombs beneath the foundations, tunnels, vaults, secret rooms—
Rooms. An image of Rafael’s bedroom flashed in my mind. It was his private sanctuary, the place he never brought anyone back into. . . .
Holy shit, I was so stupid! I’d spent all this time looking around the castle when I should’ve been concentrating on turning his bedroom upside down. I spun around, hugging the wall as I made my way back toward the main part of the castle. It took several agonizingly stretched-out minutes during which I was sure I’d be discovered, but eventually, I made it close enough to recognize where Rafael and I had first come in.
Now, where had we gone from there again?
Two lefts past the fancy sword display, I began to chant to myself, easing past the corner before ducking out into the open hallway. Then right at the ancient-looking tapestry . . .
By the time I passed the blacked-out window on the third floor, I was sweating even though the castle corridors were chilly and drafty. Then, once I reached Rafael’s wide bedroom door, that sweat turned cold on my skin. Logic said he should still be out like a light, but what if I was wrong? I’d never tranqued a three-quarter demon—or possible Pureblood—before; how did I know how long the sedative would keep him out?
Only one way to find out. I took a deep breath, then gingerly opened the door, muscles bunched to run if I heard the slightest sound of movement within. When nothing but deep, rhythmic breathing met my ears, I dared to go all the way inside before closing the door quietly behind me.
Rafael lay right where I’d left him, his big body still in that elegant sprawl. Guilt flared in me once again, but I squashed it. If I was wrong, I’d wait for him to wake up and then offer the most sincere apology of my life, but until then, I had a job to do. I stepped around him, one hand on my gun just in case he’d been faking sleep to lunge at me. When he still didn’t move, I began my search.
I owed my animal reserve relative huge for this one.
Nothing was under the bed or in the three closets that artistically blended into the room. Of course. That would have been too obvious. I tapped along all the walls, feeling for any inconsistency in the stone that might mean a barrier. Then I piled pieces of furniture on top of each other to make a precarious ladder that I fell from twice before ascertaining that the opaque glass with the odd designs was not a gateway to another dimension.
Finally, prodded by a pinch from my bladder, I went into the bathroom. The tub was sunken, made of highly polished stone, and looked like it had a real faucet, too. When I was done using the toilet, it flushed just like a normal one. Rafael must have had a clever pumping system inside the castle to have pulled that off. The bathroom was pretty nice for one belonging to a bachelor, with towels neatly stacked on a stand by the tub, a stone sink with another authentic faucet, and even a faux picture-frame window with one of the plush drapes pulled back for artistic effect.
Who’d have thought a potentially evil demon ruler would have good decorating taste? Too bad there wasn’t anything in the bathroom that looked like it might be a barrier, though. Despair pricked me. What if all my efforts tonight were a waste, and all I’d succeeded in doing was tipping my hand to a powerful demon who was going to be so pissed when he woke up?
I left the bathroom, determined to search more of the castle again, when something nagged at me. I spun around, heading back into the bathroom, to run my hands over the fake window. It couldn’t be here. Not right out in the open like this . . .
When my hand slipped under the drapery to touch the wall behind it, I froze. Very slowly, I pulled away the entire drapery to reveal the wall, and a harsh sound escaped me.
This wasn’t a wall. It was a dimensional barrier. Two of them, in fact.
I traced my hand along the barriers, noting the difference in feel between them. The one on my left felt completely rigid, even colder than the stone wall around it, but the one on my right . . . ah. That felt pliant. Cautiously, I pressed against it, surprised when my entire hand slid through. I jerked back at once, seeing water clinging to my fingers before dripping onto the floor.
The one on the left was a barrier I couldn’t cross, which meant it must lead to a Pureblood dimension. Right here, under everyone’s noses, Rafael had hidden two gateways into the other side, and there was no innocent reason he would’ve done that. This discovery made me want to go over to Rafael’s supine form and start kicking him. All of my worst suspicions were confirmed. Rafael was in league with Purebloods, and no one had caught him because no one knew he had his very own private access in his bathroom, of all places. No wonder he didn’t keep a lot of people on staff in his house. He must not have wanted to increase the odds of anyone finding this and telling others.
Yet he’d brought me back here. For a second, I was confused. Why would he do that and risk my finding this barrier? But then, like a hot poker to my heart, I understood.
Rafael had had no intention of letting me leave. He hadn’t brought me back to his house because I was more special to him than any other girl; he’d brought me back because he’d been planning to give me a p
ersonal tour of the barrier when he pulled me through and delivered me up to some Purebloods! Maybe my spotting Ashton earlier had spooked him. Maybe he was just sick of me poking around asking questions. Whatever the reason, it was clear that he’d intended to eliminate the problem once and for all.
Jab, jab, jab! went that poker in my heart. What a fool I’d been.
I shook my head, disgusted to find my vision blurred. Rafael wasn’t worth my tears, and neither were my hurt feelings. If I should be crying for anyone, it should be Gloria and all the other Partials who’d suffered because of what lay in front of me. Grimly, I forced myself to focus, pressing again on the barrier to the right. My hand slipped inside just as easily as before, coming out dripping water once more. I could penetrate it, so this gateway had to lead back to my world.
My stomach roiled with nausea. Did Rafael allow Purebloods to go back and forth shuttling Partials through these two barriers? How easy that would be, and how private. Even if one of his people found traces that had been left after each passage, who’d think twice about water being splashed on a bathroom floor? No one, that’s who.
I left the bathroom, my fingers trembling with the urge for revenge as they curled around my gun. But when I stomped over to Rafael and stared down at him, despair replaced the rage seething in me. He deserved to be killed in his sleep for all he’d done, but even as I raised the gun, my hand wavered. Rafael looked almost angelic lying there, with golden russet hair draped over part of his face and his mouth slightly open. His beauty shouldn’t have mattered to me, nor should the memory of how I’d felt in his arms, but even though he deserved it, I knew, deep down, that I couldn’t pull the trigger.
My Partial side might have been howling at me to shoot and avenge my people, but killing Rafael felt wrong in every fiber of the rest of me. For once, the three-quarters of my humanity were stronger than even the urgings from one-quarter’s worth of seething, vengeful demon.
Night's Darkest Embrace Page 4
