by Larissa Ione
Her mind fogged with a craving to wrap her legs around his waist and forget everything but the fierce need to ravish this beautiful vampire.
But first she had to get something straight.
“It’s been almost four hundred years since I’ve been able to make my own decisions,” she reminded him. “You’re not going to take that away from me.”
He was wise enough not to laugh at her empty words. Okay, she was trapped in the underworld with no plan of how to escape, but still she needed to feel some control over her life.
Stupid?
Of course.
But weirdly necessary.
“No, I would never take away your freedom,” he softly agreed, “but neither will I allow you to be hurt.” He suddenly scooped her off her feet and headed toward the shallow waters. “Not if I can protect you.”
Uriel intended to protest against his arrogant assumption that she needed his protection, but all thought evaporated as Uriel sank onto the mossy bank, settling Kata on his lap so her back was pressed against his chest and her legs fell on each side of his powerful thighs.
“Uriel,” she breathed, feeling oddly vulnerable as he buried his face in the curve of her neck and his hands began a slow, delectable exploration of her exposed body. “What are you doing?”
He cupped a full breast with one hand while allowing the other to blaze a sizzling path down the damp skin of her stomach. “Seizing the moment.”
A groan was wrenched from her throat, her head dropping back to his shoulder as his fingers stroked boldly through her eager clit.
“It feels like you’re seizing more than the moment,” she husked in approval.
He teased at the hard peak of her nipple even as he slid one finger into the damp channel between her legs. She hissed in pleasure, her arms lifting over her head to wrap around his neck.
“Who knows how long this illusion will last?” he said against her shoulder, his fangs lightly scraping the tender skin, although he was careful not to draw blood. “We should enjoy the solitude while we have it.”
Kata didn’t intend to argue. Her eyes slid closed as she concentrated on the sensation of his finger penetrating her with a slow thrust. It felt so good. So . . . she groaned, already sensing the looming climax.
“I suppose you have a point,” she moaned, turning her head to press her face into his thick curls.
She breathed deeply of his cool, masculine scent, her body bowing with a coiled tension as he caught the tip of her breast between his finger and thumb.
“You will soon discover I’m always right,” he assured her.
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
As if to emphasize the truth of his words, Uriel grasped her by the waist and with one smooth motion he had her poised above his erection. Kata made a small sound of pleading as he lowered her onto his hardness, her entire body shuddering with satisfaction as he filled her.
“Christ, you’re exquisite,” he breathed, lifting his hips until he was buried so deep inside her that Kata would swear they were now one.
“I bet you say that to all the women,” she muttered, shaken by the intensity of the sensations charging through her.
She could deal with lust. Even if it was titanic, oh-God-nothing-will-ever-be-as-good-again, lust.
But the tender rush of emotion that flooded through her was far more potent than mere lust.
It was the sort of feeling that made females sacrifice everything to hold onto.
“There are no other women, Kata,” he groaned, pumping into her with a slow, magical pace. “Just you.”
“Uriel . . .”
“Ssh,” he halted her protest, kissing a path of destruction up the side of her neck. “Just let me love you.”
Kata shoved aside the warning voice in the back of her mind.
What did it matter?
More than likely they would never get out of the underworld alive.
Why not do as Uriel suggested and simply seize the moment?
“Yes,” she breathed, forgetting everything but the explosive pleasure.
Chapter 9
Kata wasn’t sure how much time passed.
Actually, trapped in the illusion it was almost as if time had stopped completely.
The sun remained firmly fixed in its current position in the sky. There were no drifting clouds, no changing shadow. And even the wildlife scampered from one tree to the other in a pattern that was growingly predictable.
She did know that she and Uriel had made love three more times. That was deliciously easy to keep track of. But it could have been a few hours or an entire day since Yannah had trapped them in the strange world.
No doubt she should be bothered by the thought.
It seemed like it should be important.
At the moment, however, she was floating on a wave of bliss as she sprawled in a bed of wildflowers, held tightly in Uriel’s arms.
A smile curved her lips.
As a lover Uriel was spectacular.
He could be raw, and fiercely driven in his passion. Or he could be slow, and gentle, and so breathtakingly patient that she had begged, pleaded, and at last, threatened until he gave her release.
As a man . . .
Her smile twisted.
She was beginning to accept he was equally spectacular.
Shifting at his side, she tilted back her head to study the vampire next to her.
Her heart lurched at his sheer beauty.
The elegant sweep of his brow and proud curve of his nose. The high cheekbones and sensuously carved lips. The dark, soulful eyes that held a wary pain that spoke of the years he’d been forced to remain isolated, even when he was surrounded by his clan.
He didn’t need to tell her that he was as protective of his brothers as he was of her. He would always keep those he cared about at a distance, always fearful he might be compelled to harm them.
In many ways he’d suffered as much as she had over the past two centuries.
Perhaps that’s why they felt so intensely drawn together.
Well, that and the brilliant, mind-blowing sex, she wryly added.
“I think I truly must have gone to heaven,” she murmured, her hand lifting to drift over his exquisite face. “Complete with my own beautiful angel.”
He summoned a pretend scowl at her soft words. “Bloody hell, not you too.”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s nothing angelic about me.”
She slowly smiled, remembering a few of his more inventive moves.
“That’s true.” She ran her hand over the smooth skin of his stomach, relishing the ripple of muscles beneath her fingers. Mmmm, pure male perfection. “I can testify that you’re wicked through and through.”
A smug glint entered his eyes. “Thank you.”
“I assume your resemblance to an angel is a touchy subject with you?”
“I’m a warrior.”
“And warriors can’t be pretty?”
His hand lifted to tangle in her curls, his smile revealing his massive fangs.
“Careful, Kata, you tease me at your peril.”
Her heart forgot to beat as she became lost in the velvet darkness of his eyes.
“Tell me about your life.”
His brows lifted at her abrupt question. “Do you want to hear of my heroic feats or my astonishing skill with the females?”
She rolled her eyes. Like she didn’t know firsthand that he was a lethal predator and an even more lethal lover.
“I want to hear about you. The real you.”
He stilled, as if no one had ever been interested in anything beyond his more obvious skills.
“I am second in command to Victor, the clan chief of Great Britain,” he said.
She smiled at the hint of pride he couldn’t hide. And why shouldn’t he be proud? Before her captivity, Kata had taken pleasure in the fact she and Marika were considered the finest healers in all of Europe.
“A big shot, eh? No wonder you’
re so arrogant.”
“Authoritative,” he corrected her.
“Bossy.”
“Only when necessary.”
“Which is always,” she wryly pointed out. “What else?”
He shrugged. “There is nothing else.”
“I don’t believe you.” She reached to stroke her fingers down the chiseled line of his jaw. “You can’t spend all your time killing things.”
“No. I teach the younger vampires how to kill things.”
She heaved a sigh. “You don’t have any hobbies? No secret dreams?”
His expression became guarded, his years of keeping others at a distance painfully obvious.
“What about you?” he said as he smoothly deflected her probing. “What are your secret dreams?”
“To be a mother to Laylah,” she confessed without hesitation. “Although I suppose it’s two centuries too late to claim such a role. I’m not sure she’ll ever understand why I had to leave her.”
“You had no choice.”
“That doesn’t mean she’ll be prepared to forgive me.”
“She’ll forgive you.”
She met his steady gaze, desperately needing to believe him.
When she’d handed her baby over to the witch who had promised to keep her hidden, Kata had felt as if someone was ripping out her heart.
Only the absolute belief that it was the only way to keep Laylah safe had given her the courage.
Still, the fear that Laylah would never understand why she’d made the choice to give away her baby had gnawed at her for endless years.
“How can you be so certain?”
His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “Because when she traveled to London she risked everything to come in search of you.”
A tentative hope warmed Kata’s heart. “Did she?”
“Nothing could stop her.” Uriel smiled wryly. “And, of course, she refused to leave London until Victor had sworn he would stop at nothing to rescue you.”
She smiled, shifting to brush her lips across his mouth as she savored his words of comfort, allowing them to heal a portion of her heavy guilt.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
A peaceful silence settled between them before Uriel lifted himself on his elbow to study her with a brooding gaze.
“Music,” he said abruptly.
She blinked. Okay. That seemed a little random.
“What?”
“I love music and when I have the opportunity to travel to my private lair in Wales I spend my time learning to play a new instrument.” He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “I have nearly mastered them all.”
Kata hid a smile, oddly charmed by the embarrassment that he couldn’t entirely disguise.
“Why was that so difficult to share?”
“Because my brothers would be merciless,” he muttered. “Victor would no doubt insist I walk around strumming a damned harp.”
Her laughter filled the glade at the image of Uriel with a harp in his hands. His resemblance to a celestial being would be unmistakable.
“Hmmm. I see your point,” she admitted.
“Of course, if you were to join me in my lair I would be happy to . . .”
He bit off his words as an unmistakable chill pierced the air.
“Uriel,” Kata breathed, scrambling to her feet to tug on her forgotten gown.
“I sense it.” He was swiftly at her side, pulling on his jeans and T-shirt before snatching up the long, extremely sharp sword. “Vampire.”
There was another burst of cold, and Kata hissed in horrified disbelief.
No, it couldn’t be.
Not even her shitty luck could be this bad.
But even as she tried to convince herself it had to be some ghastly mistake, the familiar sense of doom settled in her heart.
“Marika.”
“Impossible.”
She clenched her hands, a combination of hatred and fear blasting through her.
“It’s not a stench I would forget,” she hissed. “Not ever.”
Uriel muttered beneath his breath, his gaze surveying their surroundings with the intensity of a trained warrior.
“Then she must be part of the illusion.”
Kata shivered with disgust. “No, not an illusion. A nightmare.”
“Kata.” The sound of her sister’s taunting voice drifted through the air.
Uriel leaned down to steal a brief kiss, his face a tight mask of determination.
“Keep her distracted.”
“What?” Without answering, he was flowing toward the trees. In less than the beat of her heart he’d disappeared among the shadows. “Damn.”
Alone and feeling like the mouse about to be cornered by a cat with vicious fangs and a nasty attitude, Kata forced herself not to bolt as Marika stepped from behind a large rock.
Uriel told her to distract the bitch, and by God, that’s what she would do.
“Ah, there you are, sister dearest,” Marika purred, a taunting smile curving her lips. “Did you miss me?”
Kata swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.
Not surprisingly seeing Marika was like looking in a mirror.
Same dark hair and eyes, same pale skin and curvaceous body that was currently covered in one of the satin designer gowns that Marika adored.
What was surprising, however, was that she looked as well-groomed and sophisticated as if she’d just stepped off the pages of Vogue.
Dammit.
She was supposed to be dead and even now suffering some grim torture in the bowels of the underworld.
Was there no justice in the universe?
“You really should learn how to stay in your grave, Marika,” she gritted.
Marika gave a toss of her dark curls, prowling forward with an expression of blatant anticipation.
It was a look that always came before the pain.
Hours and hours and hours of pain.
“What’s the fun in that?” she demanded.
“The fun is that I would be rid of your miserable existence forever. The mere thought makes me giddy with joy.”
Marika halted mere inches from her, her frigid power wrapping around Kata like chains of ice.
“What happened to my sweet Kata who prayed every night that her sister would be returned to her?”
Kata clenched her teeth. She wouldn’t flinch, she wouldn’t flinch, she wouldn’t flinch . . .
Her chin tilted, her expression defiant. “She realized that her sister had become a monster.”
“A monster?” The dark eyes narrowed in suspicion as Marika leaned forward, sniffing the air around Kata. “So says the woman who reeks of her vampire lover. Where is he?”
Kata swore. So much for being a distraction.
“You know, Marika,” she said, desperate to keep the demented woman’s attention locked on her. “It took me awhile, but I realize now that becoming a vampire wasn’t what made you evil.”
“No?”
“No, it’s your lack of anything resembling a heart.”
Marika’s shrill laughter sent a chill down Kata’s spine. Dear goddess, it was bad enough that the woman walked around with her sister’s face without adding a creepy cackle.
“Kata, if I didn’t have a heart would I have made sure that we would be kept together even after death?” Marika pressed a hand to her unbeating heart. “What could be more sentimental?”
“That was selfishness, not sentimentality. You were only trying to protect your own skin by forcing Sergei to bind us together.”
“True. Now, however, I have a much more basic reason for appreciating the spell.”
“And what’s that?”
With a pout, Marika stretched out a hand to run a crimson nail down Kata’s cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
“I’m feeling a little peevish at my unfortunate death. I was, after all, destined to rule the world,” she complained. “Let’s hope a few centuries of pu
nishing you will help ease my disappointment.”
Her churning fear was briefly forgotten as a flare of pure relief raced through her. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but at least Marika believed she had died.
It gave her hope.
“Tell me, Marika, was it Laylah who struck the killing blow?” she asked sweetly.
The dark eyes flashed with fury. “The bitch got lucky.” Kata smiled. “Do you believe in karma?”
“I believe that the sins of the daughter must be paid by the mother.” Marika lifted her hand, her fingers curled to slice her claws through Kata’s tender flesh. “Starting now.”
Braced for the blow, Kata was unprepared for the flash of movement from directly behind Marika. Thankfully, her crazy-ass sister was equally oblivious and, even as she swung her hand toward Kata’s face, Uriel was slamming into her with bone-breaking force.
Kata stumbled to the side, struggling to keep her balance as the two predators hit the ground with enough force to split the earth. Uriel managed to land on top, his fist slamming into the back of his opponent’s head with a sickening crunch.
It wasn’t a fatal blow, but it should have been enough to put the female vamp out of commission for a few minutes. Instead Marika turned with a fluid motion and sank her fang’s into Uriel’s throat.
Kata’s heart faltered as Uriel grabbed Marika’s hair and ripped her from his flesh, his blood gushing from the wound. His roar of pain echoed through the glade, sending animals fleeing in terror.
Barely aware she was moving, Kata had snatched up a large branch that was nearly hidden in the grass and was charging forward. At the same time, Uriel was lifting his sword and with one sharp motion he was plunging it into Marika’s heart.
Kata halted, shuddering at the sight of her sister sprawled on the ground with a massive blade sticking out of her chest.
She hated the miserable, sadistic creature with every fiber of her being, but it was still disturbing to see the image of her sister pinned to the ground like something from a horror film.
Waiting for Uriel to finish the kill by cutting out the vampire’s heart, Kata sucked in a shocked breath as Marika grasped the blade with both hands and yanked it from her flesh.
It shouldn’t have been possible. Such a wound should have paralyzed her at the very least. Not even the most powerful demon could shrug off a huge, gaping hole in the center of their chest.
