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Kiss of Light

Page 11

by Eve Langlais


  “You are a mutation. The result of a shadow creature from the Noctumbrus plane mating with a human.”

  “I wasn’t born like this.”

  “The original vampire was. He is the original source of the viral mutation.”

  “And what of you?” He pointed to her. “Those wings you hide. Legends say a god gave you them after you proved yourself on the battlefield.”

  “Valkyries are born with wings.”

  “Even the boys?”

  “There are no male Valkyries.”

  “How boring.”

  She tossed her head. “More like refreshing. Females tend to get stuff done.”

  “A sexist attitude.”

  “Only to a male.”

  The rebuke made him laugh. “You are nothing at all as I’d imagined.”

  “The Kyla you met before was but the persona I keep on Earth.”

  “Why are you on Earth?”

  “It’s an interesting spot.”

  “You were watching over Adara.”

  Her lips compressed. “What I do is none of your concern. And I really wish I’d not told you. I can’t have that information reaching the wrong parties.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “I’m sure you won’t mean to. But those who are after Adara will be tenacious when they torture you for information. A pity about that. You have a pretty face.”

  It took a few moments to process her words, then Titus couldn’t help but chuckle. “You act as if my capture and torture is a foregone conclusion. I am wilier than you think.”

  “And they can be viler than you imagine. Did you not pay attention to Adara’s punishment? They will stop at nothing.”

  “Then we must be the ones to put a halt to their actions.”

  “How? You don’t even know who they are.”

  “You’re part of the tribunal. Surely—”

  She slashed a hand through the air and interrupted. “Don’t drag me into this. I’ve already done enough.”

  “You don’t have to do anything. Just give me a name.”

  “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Our positions are a closely held secret. It is meant to prevent assassinations and bribery.”

  “They can be found, though. We did, after all, find you.”

  Kyla snorted. “You mean I located Adara. She would have never known about me if I’d not told her.”

  Titus wasn’t giving up that easily. “Adara won’t rest until she finds out who the tribunal members are and makes them pay.”

  “Then I risked my life for nothing. Going after those who condemned her would be a mistake. To kill one is to invite war. And if you help her, your world will perish.”

  “You make it sound so dire.”

  “Just stating the facts.”

  “Let me ask you then, what would you do in her place?”

  A smile curved those full lips. “Go after the bastards who cursed me and kill them.”

  “But you just said killing them would start a war,” Titus sputtered.

  “It would. But some things are worth fighting for.”

  “Then help us find them.”

  “I’ve already done too much. Just by being here, I jeopardize my people.”

  “Adara needs help.”

  “No, what Erela,”—the emphasis was clear—“needs to do is put an end to her stubbornness. She won’t find answers here.”

  “She hasn’t the slightest clue how to reach her world.”

  “Erela doesn’t have the knowledge perhaps, but a certain Dark Lord does.”

  The reminder tightened his lips. “Adara wants nothing to do with Desmond.” Neither did he. The male complicated an already strange situation.

  “Do you want to help her?” Kyla stepped closer, the scent of her exotic.

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Do you really?” Dark eyes gazed at him, and he saw himself reflected in their depths. “She’s bound you to her.”

  “It was mutual.”

  “Or so you believe.” Fingers brushed his skin. “She marked you.”

  “We both did. We shared blood.”

  “Ah, yes, the vampire bond, the string tying you together.” She hooked a finger in the air and plucked, activating the bond between Titus and Adara.

  For a moment, he saw through Adara’s eyes as she stared at a strange blob of red. Then he blinked.

  “That string is something mutual. The thing I talk about that marks you is deeper. It’s hidden itself here.” Kyla pressed her hand against his chest over his heart, which beat faster at the touch. “Her magic has taken root.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did you find yourself inexplicably drawn to her from the moment you met?”

  “Yes. Are you saying it’s not natural?” Because it sure felt real.

  “I’m sure some of it is at this point. The spell itself seems to have weakened. That happens in those with strong wills.”

  The very idea that his emotions might not be his own bothered him. “How do I break free entirely?”

  “It will happen. Soon, I imagine. But not too soon. You must still help Erela. Contact the Dark Lord and ask him to give you passage.”

  “She will be angry if I get in touch with him.”

  “Let her be angry. She will need to deal with Desmond eventually.”

  “You think she’ll kill him.”

  Kyla laughed. A rich, full sound that brought a shiver to his usually behaved skin. “You obviously don’t know women at all.” She pinched his chin. “Get ready to kiss me.”

  “What?”

  “Someone watches. Let us give them a reason for why I’m here with you,” she murmured before pressing her mouth to his.

  It took him by surprise. Not the kiss, but the sensation that hit him at the touch of their lips. Heat. So much heat, his body tingled as his blood pounded, thundering through his veins, making him feel alive in a way he’d not felt since his death.

  He grabbed her by the hips and tugged her closer, grinding her against him as his mouth devoured hers. Tasted the slick, cherry gloss.

  He wanted to take her. Here and now. Flip her around, pull up that skirt, and sink into her. Judging by the nails digging in to his back, she felt the same way.

  So, why not? His hands roamed, cupping her full bottom. Her leg curled around his, and she rubbed herself on his thigh.

  He growled as he left her mouth to suck on the flesh of her neck. Spending extra time on the rapid pulse beneath the skin.

  Lower still to the vee of her blouse. Titus gripped her ass and pulled her firmly against him.

  She moaned. “Titus.”

  The sound of his name on her lips teased.

  Pleased…

  He drew back for another kiss, an embrace that ended before he was ready.

  She pulled away and announced, rather breathlessly, “We must have convinced them. They’re gone.”

  “Perhaps we should continue a little longer just in case,” he said in a voice thick with desire.

  She licked her lips and, for a moment, he thought she’d agree. His turgid cock certainly hoped so.

  Instead, she patted his cheek. “Tempting, but I’ve other affairs to handle. And so do you. Call Desmond. Get Erela back where she belongs.”

  “And what of you?” What of the fire she’d started in his body?

  “The less you know, the better.” She leaned in for another kiss, with tongue and enough passion to leave the undead breathless.

  “Are they watching again?” he asked in between sips of her lips.

  “Nope. That was just for fun.” She winked and then stepped back.

  He half expected her to sprout wings and fly, but apparently, that was reserved for dire situations.

  A car pulled into his drive, and Kyla waved as she headed for it.

  Whereas Titus frowned.

  What just happened?

  I kissed her. She kissed me. He’d been disloyal to Adara. Yet hadn’t she betrayed him
first? He’d seen her kissing Logan in the kitchen earlier.

  Also saw her run off after calling the dog by the wrong name.

  The mark between them wasn’t a true one. Even if Kyla hadn’t pointed it out, he could see that now. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d bound himself to Adara, which meant he had to see this thing through—no matter his feelings.

  He had to help Adara find herself, and that could only be accomplished by talking to Desmond. Titus knew better than to make plans for Adara without talking to her first.

  With the trolls hard at work, he chose to leave. The garage, while lopsided from the upheaval in the ground, still remained mostly intact. As did his cars.

  He took the Jag, the tinted windows and the purr of the motor just the thing he needed to race the coming dawn.

  Another home destroyed, and while he could have holed up in a hotel, he wanted to know what had happened.

  Wanted to see Adara. Sure, he’d shared a kiss with Kyla. A scorching one. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care for Adara.

  She needed him.

  Does she?

  She seemed more than capable.

  I care for her. He did. But his feelings for her weren’t as clear-cut as before.

  A seed of doubt had been planted. Seeing Adara might prevent it from growing.

  He beat the dawn, parking in the small lot by the cemetery just as the sky began to lighten, the far edges of it mauve.

  The church didn’t cause him the slightest pause, and he entered without even a twinge. A peek inside showed the pews empty and the altar covered in a white cloth. It didn’t take long for him to knock on the rectory door attached to the church at the back, a wary eye on the sky now turning pink.

  Kerrick—wearing his usual white collar and black shirt—answered, letting him into a small, brightly lit kitchen. With windows. But Morrigan’s servant had long dealt with Titus’s kind. The blinds were pulled.

  Only then did Titus relax enough to notice that Adara sat at a table with Logan, the remnants of sandwiches strewn between them.

  He waited for the guilt to hit.

  It didn’t.

  While there were four chairs at the table, Morrigan wasn’t with them.

  “Have a seat,” Kerrick gestured. “My lady rests after the ritual.”

  “Did you find out anything?” Titus asked. He hoped so since it cost him dearly in favors.

  “Yes, and no.” Adara recounted what had happened. Most of it useless except for the last bit

  “Your mother might be alive,” Titus stated.

  “She is.” Adara beamed. “I saw her face.”

  “Could be a memory.” The remark wiped the smile from her face, and chagrin swept him. Only briefly. He didn’t want her to have false hope. Odd, though, that he had no trouble causing her this pain. Another sign of the changes between them.

  “I guess. But if she’s alive—”

  “What does it change?” Titus asked. “I don’t mean to be cruel, but Adara, you’re talking about the woman who abandoned you in a city known to kill children of mixed birth.”

  “Maybe she didn’t have a choice.”

  “What if she did? What if her choice was to put you in a place where someone else could make the hard decisions?”

  “You think she wanted me to die? My own mother?” Her eyes blazed, the violet fire bright. Her hair lifted, and the air snapped with electricity.

  “Calm down.” Logan waved a hand in front of her face. “Titus is right. You shouldn’t be getting too excited yet. We don’t know jack shit.” Logan played the voice of reason.

  But Titus was done being reasonable. “If you’re going to find out who she is or the ones responsible for what happened, then you’re going to have to go back to Hell. And for that, you need Desmond.” It didn’t surprise him that she said no.

  “I don’t want his help.”

  “Then you’re content to live your life running from place to place? Constantly on guard? Fighting at a moment’s notice.”

  She scowled. “No, I don’t want that. But I will find a way to get there without his help.”

  Old Titus might have gone along with her desire, but the real Titus, the jaded vampire, wasn’t a pushover. “How are you going to get there? Going to Google the address? I doubt the path to Hell has been mapped. Maybe you can beg the next demon you find to lead you there. Or maybe the next demon you run into will be bigger and badder, and it won’t matter.” Titus knew he was being cruel, pushing her.

  The Adara he’d first met wouldn’t have deserved it or been able to handle it, but this wasn’t the shy little damsel who startled at her own shadow. This strong and stubborn woman was Erela, and she was letting her emotions control her. Titus didn’t have the patience for it.

  “I’ll find a way. I have you and Logan to help me.”

  “Whoa.” Logan sliced his hands in the air and shook his hand. “Don’t bring me into this fight. I happen to think Titus is right. We need Desmond.”

  “So you’re against me, too?” She didn’t sob like some would have at losing her two staunchest supporters. She glared.

  “Don’t get pissy at me because you’re having a fit over your ex-boyfriend.” The wolf pushed away from the table. “I’m going to get some air.”

  Logan left. Adara stared daggers at his back.

  “I don’t need him,” she grumbled. “I don’t need anyone. I’ll figure it out myself.”

  Titus leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Really? Do you even hear how childish you sound? I can’t wait to see this. Go ahead. Call someone. Oh, that’s right, there’s no one to call. No one wants to help you because you are Forsaken.”

  “You’re helping me.”

  “I’m not part of this cruel tribunal who cast you aside in the first place. I’m also not your enemy. And neither is Desmond.”

  “He’s not my friend either,” Adara snapped.

  “No. He was your lover, and because you haven’t stopped caring for him, you are doing your best to push him away.”

  “You have no idea how I feel.” She slammed her hands on the table. “I don’t care one bit for him. I hate him.”

  “Really?” Titus arched a brow. “Then how come you are so afraid to use him for help?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “You are afraid because you still love him.”

  “Do not! And I can prove it. I kissed Logan,” she hotly retorted.

  She didn’t realize Titus had heard the part that came after the kiss. “Did you tell the dog you loved him?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have sex with him?”

  Again, she frowned as she growled, “No. But if I loved Desmond as you claim, wouldn’t I avoid other men?”

  “Actually, I think you’d be drawn to other men if only to try and falsely prove you don’t care.”

  “Does this feel like I don’t care,” she snapped before grabbing him by the lapels. The kiss she bestowed was angry. A fierce tsunami of emotion.

  That did nothing for him.

  The kiss he’d waited for, and yet because he knew she did it to try and forget another, it did not move him one bit. On the contrary, he couldn’t help comparing it to the heated one he’d shared with Kyla.

  Adara pulled away and stared at him. “There’s something different about you.”

  “I would say the same of you. While I haven’t changed, you have. Which means, our feelings have shifted.”

  She froze and pulled away. “You don’t want to help me anymore.” The softness tugged at his heart.

  “You put words into my mouth that don’t exist. I want to help you. That hasn’t changed. Because I am your friend.”

  “Friend?” Her brow knit.

  “Is that such a strange concept to comprehend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a friend.”

  She shrugged. “I did. In a sense, and yet not at the same time. People we
re nice to me because I was the king’s ward. But outside of that, I was ignored. If I were to return now, with the mark of the Forsaken, I doubt anyone would speak to me.”

  “Then those people weren’t your friends.”

  “Do you ever miss Stefan?” she asked, staring down at her hands.

  Titus thought about lying until he saw the honest vulnerability in her. Understood what she asked.

  “I miss him every single hour of every single day. I know he betrayed me, and that pain goes deep.” It bled still. “But my emotions have a hard time forgetting the man who was like a brother to me.”

  “I can’t forget.”

  “No one is asking you to.”

  She took a moment to stare at the scarred wooden tabletop. Then heaved in a deep breath and sighed as she obviously came to a decision. “How soon do you think Desmond can help us cross?”

  “I don’t know. Let me contact him.”

  For that, he had to swallow his anger and his own pride and call the man he hated—and missed.

  Stefan.

  Chapter Eleven

  Arrangements were made. Erela/Adara, more conflicted than ever about who she was—You are no one, Forsaken—fidgeted as they waited for Desmond to arrive. Titus had made a valid point when he claimed that the Dark Lord’s aid was needed, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

  Anything to do with Desmond grated on her, tore open emotions she couldn’t handle. He looked at her, and she wanted to forget all the bad that had happened. Pretend it never existed.

  And maybe he’d even go along for a while. Hold her close and whisper that it didn’t matter.

  It did matter. Adara wasn’t just forsaken, she was soiled in a way she could never scrub clean.

  Damaged. Eventually, Desmond would notice. It would prey upon him. Especially once he heard whispers of what had happened. Taunts—I hear Mammon had her first and broke her in—would reach his ears.

  His pride was such that he would kill those who spoke about it. But the words would remain, worming into his brain in the same way the memory tunneled through hers.

  One day, he would look at her, and there would be disgust. A cold shoulder next. Followed by avoiding her presence. Flinching from her touch.

  She could see it so very clearly. When Desmond cast her aside, he would do it quickly. Efficiently.

 

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