by Bella Jacobs
Heaven. Pure heaven.
My pulse slows, and a lazy smile tugs at my lips even as my synapses begin to dance, and my feet grow light on the carpet. I can’t draw a decent picture to save my life, but art always makes me want to dance, as if that creative energy spills off the canvas into my arms, my legs, all the way down to the tips of my toes.
Inspired, I twirl away from the bouquet in a series of chaîné turns, not realizing I’m being watched until a familiar voice creaks, “Chin up, relax your tongue, and keep that spot steady. If you want to bring home gold, there’s no time for sloppy turns, Eliza.”
I turn to see Jacque, my dance guru, standing by an open door farther down the hall, his wrinkled hand propped on his narrow hip and Rourke grinning behind him.
“Surprise,” Rourke says. “Since you couldn’t make it to practice, I arranged for practice to come to you.”
“You’re the best,” I breathe, beaming at them. I dash across the carpet, throwing my arms around Jacque and shooting Rourke a smile over his shoulder that I know is too flirty for my own good.
But it’s not every day a man gives you what you’ve been wanting most in the world.
Or maybe second most…
I can think of a few things I’d like more than a coaching session, but since all of those things are dangerous, or off-limits, I will dance. I will dance hard, funneling all this ill-advised passion into something safer than sexy vampire boys with smiles that promise to make giving in to temptation the most fun thing ever.
Chapter 10
Two hours later, I’m exhausted, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and sporting a fresh pointe shoe blister on my right pinkie. I’m also so happy I can’t stop smiling. Despite my rough night, rhino complications, and the general chaos that is my life right now, I had an incredible practice.
If I dance like that at the pageant, I’ll bring home the title. No doubt in my mind.
“Excellent.” Jacque pats my shoulder on his way out to meet the helicopter that will fly him home. Yes, a helicopter! For my dance coach. For me. It’s all so wild and extravagant I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. “Soak your feet in Epsom salts tonight, mark through the routine a few times tomorrow for timing, and we’ll meet again on Friday.”
“Thank you so much, Jacque. I appreciate you coming to meet me all the way out here. Truly. Hopefully, in a week or so, everything will be sorted, and I’ll be back in the studio for dress rehearsal.”
“Don’t rush on my account.” Jacque tugs his newsboy cap farther down his forehead with a wink. “Never been able to afford a helicopter tour before. I like the view above it all. Our city’s pretty from up there.”
“I bet.” I lean against the door as Jacque moves down the hall toward the exit, graceful but careful in his old age. “I’ve never been in a helicopter, but I can imagine.”
“We’ll have to remedy that.” Rourke materializes behind me, emerging from wherever he’s been hanging out while Jacque and I were practicing. “But tomorrow night, I think. Tonight we have other plans.” He extends his hand. “Leo and I thought you might enjoy dinner in the rose garden.”
“I would love dinner in the rose garden,” I say, keeping my hands clasped. “But I’m gross and stinky, and I need a shower.”
Rourke shakes his head. “You’re lovely and smell delicious and you need food. You’re starving.”
I cross my arms. “How can you tell?”
“That I can smell,” he says, his panty-melting grin curving back into place. “Low blood sugar has a scent like pennies left out in the rain. I can’t remember what it feels like, but I’m sure it’s miserable, poor lamb.” He winks. “Speaking of lamb, the chef is preparing chops and osso bucco, with a choice of rosemary potatoes or fresh baked bread and roasted spring vegetables on the side.”
My stomach rumbles, and Rourke’s grin grows positively wolfish.
“See? You’re famished. Come, dear ’Liza. Let me feed you. It’s all warm and ready, and I hate to wait.”
“If you were being bossy about anything but food, I’d put up more of a fight.” I take his hand, trying not to notice how good it feels to touch him. “But since you’re right and I am starving…”
“You’re good to me,” he says, guiding me down the hall. “Though, I bet I can think of other situations when you wouldn’t mind a little bossing around.”
I narrow my eyes his way, knowing I shouldn’t play along but unable to help myself. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
He shrugs casually. “If you were in danger, for example. Like last night.”
I nod, blood heating as he threads his fingers through mine, bringing our palms into intimate contact. “True. Safety comes first.”
“Exactly.” He opens the door at the end of the hall, and we step out into a cool spring evening tinged pink from the recent sunset and rich with the smell of flowers, freshly turned earth, and a whiff of salt from the ocean far away. “A teacher-student situation is another example. I assume you wouldn’t be opposed to me teaching you a few self-defense moves tomorrow, so you’ll be ready to defend yourself, just in case?”
“I’d love that.” Cursing softly, I glance over my shoulder at the castle, which looks even more elegant and mysterious in the fading light. “Which reminds me. Leo gave me a magic bat, but I left it in my room.”
“You won’t need it tonight. The most stress you’ll encounter at dinner is choosing between maple crème brûlée and chocolate lava cake for dessert.”
My stomach rumbles again, but I shake my head. “No. No dessert for me. I’ve only got two weeks left to lose five pounds.”
Rourke stops by the wall surrounding the rose garden, turning to face me. “Why would you want to do something ridiculous like that? You don’t need to lose five pounds. You’re perfect.”
I smile. “Thank you, but the zipper on my competition gown says otherwise.”
“Then your zipper is a fool.” He shifts so he’s in front of me, backing me closer to the rock wall, which is still warm and toasty from the sun. “And you need chocolate. I can feel it. The hunger for something sweet is rolling off of you in waves.”
I lift my chin, heart beating faster as Rourke braces his hands on the wall on either side of my face. “That’s just normal hunger. For vegetables and protein.”
“No, it isn’t.” He leans in, bringing his lips closer to mine. “I can tell the difference, love. I know what you’re hungry for, and I think you should let me make sure you get it. Let me boss you into a big slice of chocolate cake, dear ’Liza.”
My breath feathers out as tingles race across my skin. I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t seem to stop my mouth from moving. “What if I’d rather be bossed into something more fun than cake?”
Rourke’s eyes darken, and a teasing smile curves his lips. “I haven’t eaten dessert in a very long time, love. It would have to be something pretty extraordinary to be more fun than cake…” He tilts his head, angling his lips. “Something sinfully sweet… Beautiful… Irresistible…”
Lips prickling with electricity, I whisper, “You’ve done a good job of resisting up until now.”
“Because I’d been ordered to court your friend, Princess Pea.” He brushes his nose lightly against mine. My pulse races faster, but thank God this kind of excitement doesn’t seem likely to send me into a shift. “But from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt…”
My lashes flutter, and my head spins. Having him so close, warm and smelling of cedar and soap and man, is dizzying, intoxicating. “You felt?”
“Hungry.” His left hand leaves the wall, coming to rest on the curve of my hip, setting fire to my body with a single touch. “And hopeful,” he adds in a softer voice. “Leo’s right. You’re sunshine, ’Liza. And I haven’t seen the sun in so long. But he’s also right about this being bad for you. Me… Us…”
I brace my hands on his shoulders, stifling a soft moan at the feel of him—so strong and powerful—beneath his dress shirt. �
�And Leerie would be furious if she saw us here like this.”
“And she might. See us.” He moves in until the full length of him is pressed against the full length of me and burning becomes my full-time job. “She should be down to dinner any moment.”
“So we should stop,” I say.
“Most assuredly,” he agrees, his hand sliding down to grip my ass through the thin fabric of my velvet pants. “If only you didn’t feel so damned good.”
“You, too.” I arch into him, pressing my breasts against his chest, loving the contrast of soft against hard. “So good.”
“And if I didn’t suspect you taste even better than you feel.” His forehead presses to mine as he groans. The hunger in the sound makes me feel beautiful and powerful, like a sex goddess instead of a hot mess. “Dear Lord, woman, you’re killing me.”
I can’t remember ever feeling like this—so wanted, so desperately desired. Yes, I’ve had my share of decent sex, and it’s been good or occasionally great. But never mind-blowing. Never reality-shifting, the kind of lovemaking you see in movies or read about in books.
I’ve had orgasms, not explosions. I’ve longed for a lover’s touch, but I’ve never felt as if I’ll die if I don’t have his hands on me soon.
So soon. Five minutes ago, if possible.
“I want you to touch me,” I whisper. “So badly.”
“Where do you want me to touch you, beautiful?” He cups my face in his free hand as his fingers dig into my ass, drawing me closer until I can feel the evidence of our mutual hunger pulsing against my belly.
“Everywhere,” I say. “Everywhere. Please.”
With a moan of surrender, Rourke covers my mouth with his. His tongue slips between my lips, teasing and stroking, igniting a firestorm of awareness unlike anything I’ve felt in so long. Not since I was a teenager drunk on my first real kiss has locking lips with another person made me feel so dizzy and fizzy and free.
I moan into his mouth, pressing closer as the kiss grows hotter, wilder.
“So sweet,” he murmurs, trailing kisses down my throat. My breath catches as he rakes the tips of his newly lengthened fangs against where my pulse races beneath my skin. “You smell so sweet. I want to taste you so fucking badly, love.”
“Then taste me,” I hear myself saying, so high on hormones that anything that gets me closer to Rourke—even being his pre-dinner snack—sounds amazing. Perfect, even though I’ve never been the type to fantasize about a vampire kiss.
But now, Rourke cups my breast through my shirt, warning, “If I taste you, it’s not going to stop there, love. If I taste you, I’m going to take you. Right here, up against this wall, until you come, screaming so loud there’s no way we’ll avoid discovery.”
The thought is terrifying. And exciting. And so tempting I can’t help but whisper against his lips, “I want it. I want you. All of you.”
Rourke curses softly. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Oh God, yes,” I say, gasping into his mouth as his fingers find my nipple through my shirt, rolling the already tight tip. “That feels so good.”
I’m clawing at his shoulders, wild and wanton and starved for more of his kiss, his touch, for the feel of his sharp teeth grazing the delicate flesh of my neck, when the first howl cuts through the night.
Instantly, my blood goes cold.
Rourke and I jump apart, turning to see dozens of giant wolves swarming across the great lawn from the direction of the pond. But they’re too big and nasty-looking to be normal wolves, which means—
“The Kin Born,” I breathe.
“Run,” Rourke orders, guiding me behind him as more snarls fill the air. “Get inside the tent hall, lock yourself in one of the offices. Go, Eliza, now!” he shouts, sprinting forward to meet a group of five wolves all gunning hard for our corner of the lawn. He leaps into the air, fangs bared and fist raised, landing a wicked punch that sends the first wolf flying with a yelp of pain.
But before he can draw his arm back again, he’s overrun.
The other wolves tackle him, teeth digging into his arms and legs as they drag him to the ground. He disappears beneath a pile of writhing canines, and I taste earth and overripe beets.
My rhino comes out bellowing, a darker, more dangerous sound than I’ve ever heard from these lips before. But I’m not afraid or embarrassed about this shift. I’m livid, determined to kick ass and take names. Shaking off the scraps of my ruined tracksuit, I bound toward the wolves piled on top of Rourke.
I’m almost there, close enough that I can hear him cussing as he throws punch after vicious punch, sending one wolf flying, only to have another take its place, when Leerie shouts from across the lawn, “Be careful, Eliza! I’m going for help!”
I jerk my head to the right, spotting my friend’s red hair in the lamplight and watching her turn to run back toward the castle—thankfully without any Kin Born on her heels. All around the lawn, wolves are fighting vampires, but only Rourke is so seriously outnumbered.
The wolves aren’t fighting fair, a fact that makes me see red.
Bright, blinding red.
Everything is hot and blurry around the edges as I charge the wolves on top of Rourke, stomping on any barking, snarling bodies I can reach. And then, as soon as he’s on his feet and clearly holding his own, I take the rhino show on the road, charging and bellowing around the lawn, wreaking havoc.
I’m almost to the duck pond, leaving a trail of whimpering canines in my wake, when I spy Leo sprinting around the side of the castle, carrying a sword he’s putting to bloody use, decapitating a wolf in the midst of chewing a pretty vampire’s arm from her body.
He reaches down, hauling the twitching corpse off of the woman, but before he can help her to her feet, he’s mobbed. Five or six wolves—maybe more—converge on him, abandoning other fights to devote their full, murderous intent to killing Leo.
Killing Leo…
My hurt lurches into my throat and sticks there as a shudder rocks my body. I won’t let this happen. If they want to hurt Leo, they’re going to have to go through me.
Or maybe I’ll go through them…
I rush across the lawn, moving so fast the earth trembles beneath my feet, but before I can reach Leo, something goes wrong. I’m not sure what it is at first, only that one second I’m hauling ass, wild and free, and the next there’s pressure and heat against the side of my head. It feels like I’m on fire.
Because I am.
On fire.
Holy shit, I’m on fire!
I fall to the ground, attempting a rhino-sized stop, drop, and roll, only to find myself jerking back into my human skin. I slap at the flames by my neck, coughing as the stench of burning hair fills my lungs, then roll onto my side, pressing my head into the damp grass.
Thankfully, I get the fire under control quickly, with what feels like minimal damage—burned hair is bad, but I’ll take it over burned skin any day. But before I can make a run for Leo and hope I can convince my rhino to come back out and fight, claws dig into my bare shoulders, knocking me to the ground.
My lungs deflate, crushed flat by the weight of the animal pinning me to the earth, its snapping jaws inches from my neck. I feel its breath hot on my throat and squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the death chomp.
A beat later, there’s more heat, flaming into the air above me, and my attacker yelps in pain. The weight trapping me vanishes, and I roll over to see Jamal standing over me, his third eye smoking and a hand held out to help me up.
I take it, relief turning my bones to gelatinous ooze as he hauls me to my feet.
“We’ve got to get you out of here, darling. Not safe for humans out here tonight.” Jamal tucks my hand into the crook of his arm, hauling me across the lawn toward the castle. “Sorry for your hair, sweetheart. I was aiming for the coward behind you with his teeth bared and missed.”
“Leo…we have to help Leo,” I pant, my hair the least of my worries.
People
are dying. Leo could be dying. Or Rourke. He was holding his own when I left him, but I just learned how quickly the tide can change in a fight.
I pull away from Jamal, spinning to search the lawn and garden wall, sweeping my gaze back and forth, searching the men and women still on the grounds. But there’s no sign of either Leo or Rourke, and most everyone else is making quick tracks into the castle.
Most of the wolves are gone, too, the last of them racing away down the hill on the other side of the pond or lying still—dead—on the grass.
“They’re probably inside, honey,” Jamal says, taking my arm again. “And we should join them, in case the Kin Born decide to come back with reinforcements.”
I nod, fighting the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes. “Okay, but I feel like they’re still here, I…” I shake my head, knowing I sound ridiculous, but somewhere deep in my bones I just know that Leo and Rourke aren’t in the castle. That they’re still on the lawn somewhere, and that at least one of them is hurt, maybe badly.
“Eliza! Eliza, answer me!”
Leo. It’s Leo! “Here! I’m here!” I spin toward the sound of his voice, choking on a sob of relief as I see Leo and Rourke emerging from inside the garden walls, a few terrified-looking staff members behind them.
The waiters and a man in a chef’s hat hurry toward the castle as my boys run toward me.
And of course they aren’t mine, or boys, but that doesn’t matter now.
All that matters is that they’re alive and safe and whole.
Or mostly whole…
Rourke’s shoulder is bleeding badly enough to make my breath catch as he stops beside me, pulling me into a one-armed hug.
“You’re hurt,” I say, hugging him gently, carefully, even though I want to clasp him tight to my heart and never let go. “We need to get you inside.”
“I’m fine. Nothing a feed won’t cure,” Rourke says as Leo puts his suit coat around my shoulders. I slide my arms into the warm fabric. That I’m just now remembering I’m naked shows how rattled I am.