by Tessa Bailey
His arms came around her slowly, the pressure increasing until he was squeezing her tight.
“Someone tried to kill you, love. Because of who I am. Who I was. And yet you trust me, take risks for me…you cling to me anyway.” He mapped her forehead with kisses. “I should be shaking sense into you. Instead I want to kneel and thank fate.”
Ginny’s heart twisted so forcefully, she had to gasp for breath. “It sounds like you want to give me more time with you. And my memories.”
He shook his head at her ruefully. “The threat has been eliminated, love. My protection is no longer required,” he said unevenly, before casting a morose look out the window. “Besides, do you think we could ever fool ourselves into thinking any amount of time together is enough?”
No. Of course the answer to that question was a vehement no.
Shivers took her over. They’d reached the end of the road.
Tomorrow morning, when she woke up, she would no longer remember Jonas Cantrell or the last few days. The wildfire of feeling inside of her would be doused and there was an extremely good chance she’d never experience a fraction of it again.
Unless she could be very persuasive tonight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ginny sat on the edge of her bed, watching Jonas pace.
If she squinted, she could envision him storming back and forth on a stone floor in front of a roaring castle fireplace, a robe billowing out behind him. Servants would hover in the shadows, awaiting orders.
Everything about him was so undeniably in charge and confident, even if now he appeared to be in mental turmoil, muttering to himself under his breath, as he’d been doing for the last fifteen minutes.
He’d brought her home intending to erase her memories, but so far he’d been unable to do it—and that gave her hope. I’m in the fight of my life. That’s how it felt. The battle to wake up tomorrow and still know what it was like to live with this depth of feeling for another person. How could she live without it?
Get him talking. Isn’t that what the experts suggested hostages do in a hostage situation? Establish a rapport. Personalize oneself for a better chance of survival. And that’s what she was fighting for, wasn’t it? Survival?
“So.” she licked her lips. “You’re as powerful now as the vampire who’s been leaving me in oceans and on highways. How do you do it? What does it feel like?”
He stopped pacing and looked down at his hands. “Normally, my eyesight can pick out the smallest things. Dust motes, an insect several yards away. But this…” He huffed a sound. “Tonight when you climbed out of the car, it was like my fear crystalized everything. I could see molecules in the air, pick them out and manipulate them. Objects were no longer objects. They were just masses of atoms to be broken apart or moved. It’s…hard to describe.”
“I’d say you did a pretty good job,” she said. Keep him talking. Cause delays. “Can you explain why someone would target you…and in turn me, because of Clarence?”
Agitated fingers plowed through his hair. “Ginny, I can’t confide in you only to take the knowledge away…that makes me an even worst bastard.”
“I won’t know you’re a bastard. I won’t know you at all.”
Torture twisted his expression. “Love.”
She flattened her palms on he bedspread and tried to keep her voice calm and not at all pleading. “Just talk to me. For a little while. Please?”
After some visible debate, he spoke in a hushed tone. “Clarence, my sire, is the King of the High Order. He holds the highest power among the vampires. Tonight was not the first time someone has figured out my connection to him and tried to eliminate me. Though it’s the first time someone has been vulnerable because of their connection to me. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it coming.”
“Don’t apologize. You protected me.”
He snorted and began pacing again. “Not soon enough. I could have still been inside meeting with the newbie when he arrived in the alley. He could have…”
“But he didn’t.”
“No thanks to you.” He flicked her a high eyebrow. “Car leaver.”
Smiles ghosted over their lips.
“Will you tell your father…your sire about the attack?”
“I try not to associate with him, but he contacts me occasionally, when he can pin my location down before I move on.” He blurred past Ginny, ending up at the fire escape window. “Our relationship is complicated. When I was freshly Silenced, he intended for me to follow in his footsteps.”
“He wanted you to lead the High Order?”
“God no. He’d never relinquish power. Not voluntarily, anyway,” Jonas said. “He wants a second in command to do his bidding. I didn’t agree with how he governed, allowing humans to be Silenced and then punishing those who can’t temper the vampire nature inflicted on them. It’s barbaric.” He tucked his tongue into his cheek. “After one too many arguments, I left. Clarence has made it clear many times that he wants me to return, and take my seat in the Order. See, I’m his only progeny. Once a vampire reaches a certain age, his venom dries up and he can no longer Silence a human.” He laughed without humor. “It’s more likely he wants me to return and give him a vow of fealty so I can never challenge his domination, not because he has some perceived kinship with me. But I’ll never go back.”
“Not even for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Jonas showed only the briefest flicker of amusement but it faded rapidly. “Staying away from the only family I have is easy compared to what it’ll be like keeping my distance from you.” He dragged his hands down his face. “Christ, love. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand it.”
“Don’t find out,” she whispered. “We can be careful—”
“No. No, Ginny,” he barked forcefully, his eyes squeezed shut. “You’ve already witnessed first hand the danger I bring into your life. The King has made countless enemies and because of that, I’m a target. I won’t make you one, too.”
She swallowed, a tremble passing through her knees. “Then do it. Erase yourself from my mind. What are you waiting for?”
In half a heartbeat, he was standing in front of her. He heaved a miserable sound, green starting to crackle in his eyes. Go time.
“It’s midnight,” Ginny blurted.
He started, seeming almost grateful for her interruption. “What?”
“It’s officially my birthday.”
Jonas fell to his knees and walked forward, pressing his face to her stomach, hands fisting in the sides of her dress. “Forgive me. Forgive me.”
Ginny didn’t hesitate to tangle her fingers in his hair, softly scratching circles in his scalp. “Only if you give me a present before…before you do it.”
When he lifted his head, his expression was wary, but eager. “What would you request from me, love?”
“A kiss,” she breathed, almost dizzy thanks to their proximity and the intensity he radiated. “Just one.”
The atmosphere around them turned heavy, like a hot raincloud. A trickle of something predatory rode across Jonas’s features and in turn, her thighs clenched. The low lamplight seized them in a hazy glow and time turned languid. She sat on her bed with this beautiful, eternal being knelt between her shaking knees and their position made desire lick at her senses. Made her so excited, her nipples beaded inside her bra and the dress she wore suddenly felt like plastic wrap she needed off.
“Just one,” Jonas repeated hoarsely. She held her breath as he flipped up her skirt, exposing her to mid-thigh. His palms molded to her knees and slid to the lifted hem. His touch alone would have been enough to send her pulse skyrocketing, but then he lifted her left leg, leaning down to open-mouth kiss her inner thigh. “Where do you want your kiss? Here?”
“I-I mean, that’s really, really nice. But, um…” What were words? “I was kind of hoping for higher.”
With his lips still searing her thigh, he tossed her a wicked smirk.
“Oh Lord,” she rushed to say, red faced.
“No. I meant my mouth.”
His tongue snuck out and dragged in a circle. “What I wouldn’t give for the ability to say next time we’ll be a lot more adventurous.”
Her heart stuttered. What if she couldn’t convince him to forgo taking her memories? The possibility of failing rammed into her with such impact that she fell back on the bed, caught between despair and arousal. Jonas’s weight dipping the mattress guided her once again toward desire, however. Especially when his face appeared above her, his gaze zeroed in on her lips.
“She won’t remember any of this,” he whispered to himself, his mouth descending. Closer. Closer. Sending her nerve endings into chaos.
“You will, though,” she whimpered.
His breath mingled with Ginny’s. “Yes. I will. Always,” he rasped. “With this kiss, I willingly damn myself to a lifetime of suffering. Happy birthday, love.”
What followed defied any preconceived notions she may have entertained about kissing. Lips making contact wasn’t merely something that looked pretty on a television or movie screen. It was what happened on the inside that counted.
He started by slanting his head, tasting her with groaning suction. It went on and on, him absorbing that first taste—and her being absorbed. Greedily. Absolutely. His hard body settled on top of hers, the momentous pressure making her gasp as Jonas’s tongue swept into her mouth. Ohhh.
Their tongues greeted each other like star-crossed lovers, demanding and bereft over their separation. Ginny’s eyes flew open to find the same wonder blazing in Jonas’s, before his lids drooped along with hers, the kiss taking over, sensations making demands and hunger sinking in its claws.
At the next slide of their tongues, Ginny’s knees drew up involuntarily and Jonas rolled forward with a growl, locking their lower bodies together. Pressing. Straining. The vast difference in their strength was obvious. As it was also obvious that he tried valiantly to hold his in check, his body shaking with the effort.
Unfortunately, Ginny’s body couldn’t seem to stop tempting that inhuman strength. Her inner thighs rode up and down his hips and thighs, sobs catching in her throat, releasing into his hot, seeking mouth. Lord, his mouth. It was at once skilled and frantic, like he knew damn well what he was about, but couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of lust.
Yes. God, this was lust.
An epic flood of it that required an ark for survival.
Their hands wrestled above her head, only to be pinned by Jonas. His hips rocked, the hard ridge of his sex riding to the start of her feminine flesh—and pressing down. Right there. Even through the material of her dress, she caught enough friction to cry out—and the threadbare sound did something to Jonas.
He leaned harder into the kiss, befuddling her senses with long, sensual slants of hard lips over soft, animal groans kindling in his strong chest, his fingers locked so tightly with Ginny’s above her head, she knew his willpower waned.
Good.
More.
Good.
Never stop.
Life wouldn’t be possible without this. It hadn’t been. She’d just been in a state of existence without the sensual plundering of his tongue, the weight of his body. All of it had been missing. Lost to her.
Ginny’s crossed her ankles at the waistband of his pants and arched her back, gasping excitedly when he pounced forward, holding her down with even more intention. Even more urgency. Voraciousness.
“Ginny,” Jonas said thickly. “I’m lost.”
“No. You’re found. Stay with me.”
Stay with me.
Those words echoed like a shout in a cave.
An image flickered in front of her mind’s eye. Jonas was still atop her, but their surroundings were a moving haze. Multicolored lights and pinging sounds whirred in the distance, loud and disjointed, but she disregarded them as inconsequential. Nothing mattered but the man and the way his essence promised not only pleasure, but an endless source of it.
As fast as their surroundings changed, they were back in her bedroom and Jonas was letting go of her pinned wrists to unfasten the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. When she took over the task, he looked her hard in the eye and hitched the hem of the garment up to her waist. “Remind me I could hurt you if I take you. Remind me there are rules and consequences.”
Wetness rushed to the juncture of her thighs on the wings of desire so wild, it didn’t have a name. She shook her head in a stubborn no to his command and peeled open the bodice of her dress, revealing the sheer peach lace of her bra, the breasts that swelled out of their cups.
Jonas’s fangs snapped into view, his gaze darkening to a dangerous dark green. “No, Ginny,” he breathed. “No, love. No. Don’t turn your beauty into my enemy.”
“You don’t have to fight the battle alone,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling him down for a soft kiss. “You don’t have to be alone at all. Give us a chance. I’m acknowledging the risk. I’m taking it.”
A shudder traveled through Jonas. A surrender. His lips peeled back from his teeth and he slowly lowered his mouth to her breasts, rubbing his lips over the peak of her hard nipple. He made a guttural sound and thrust his hips, absorbing Ginny’s whimper with that emerald intensity. He seemed to be powerless to do anything but kiss her and he did. Hard. Wild. They dove back into the hungry writhe of lips like they’d never stopped for a moment, and the pace accelerated quickly, making their bodies strain closer, her legs wrapping more securely around his hips.
Jonas broke away to let her breathe, eyeing her pulse while moving closer, closer to it as if drawn by hypnosis. He brushed the flutter of life with his lips and his hands gripped her thighs in a bruising hold, sending a thrill through Ginny, all the way to her toes. His willpower was on full display while he kissed her neck reverently, but when his tongue came out and licked the entire length of her flexed tendon, Ginny wasn’t expecting the deluge of lust—and she jolted.
His fang caught on her skin, causing Ginny a flash of pain.
Jonas drew back in horror, the flaming green fire transfixed by her neck. Reflected in his gaze, she watched the red trickle run down the paleness of her skin and couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
What would he do?
So many times, he’d warned about the three rules and how easily they could be broken. A relationship led to drinking her blood leading to potential death. What if he couldn’t help himself? Had she pushed him too far?
With a growl of pure hunger, Jonas lowered his head and licked the trickle of blood from her neck, bringing it into his mouth and swallowing the way someone might with a fine wine. Almost immediately, his body fell forward on top of her. He caught himself with shaking arms right before he could crush her.
A throttled rendition of her name left him. What was that sound?
There was a muted throbbing between them and at first she thought it came from her own rollicking heartbeat, but no…no, it came from Jonas.
He balanced on one hand, tearing at the left side of his chest with the other.
Was his heart beating?
“Mate,” he gasped, fangs elongating another fraction of an inch. “Mate.”
Before she could respond, Jonas threw himself off the bed and landed on his feet. His fists clenched at his sides for a heavy moment, as if he was considering lunging at her, pinning her, but in the space of a second, he’d gone out the window instead, leaving her alone and wheezing on the bed.
Mate?
Ginny was so confused by what had happened, it took her almost an hour of staring into space and replaying the scene to realize…she still had her memories.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ginny had the dream again that night.
She was edging along the outskirts of the luminous fair, drawn by her very bones to the darkness. Drawn to the tree where the man stood in his hat and suspenders, watching her as though he’d been waiting for her. As if he’d been watching her for a while and memorized the way she moved. Whi
ch made no sense since she was positive she’d never seen him before. She would have remembered being magnetized, hot and shivery just being in his presence.
Having no choice but to get closer, she stepped out of the light and watched him push off the tree and go rigid. “Don’t,” he said, though his voice didn’t reach her. His lips spelled out the words. “Please, don’t.”
For some reason, with those words from the stranger, she expected the moment to dissolve. For the night to fade and fade like a pencil sketch submerged in water. It didn’t, though. Another presence tugged her attention to the left, away from where it truly wanted to be—on the stranger beneath the tree. Someone else was there with them, though.
Static crawled up her Ginny’s arm. Her head turned toward the other presence lethargically, but there was only an outline of a dark figure surrounded by the yonder lights of the fair.
A figure in a crimson hood.
Ginny bolted upright in bed, a sob caught in her throat.
Her fingers tore at the bed sheets, twisting them in her grip to keep her grounded in the present. In wakefulness, too. Last time she’d had the dream, she’d woken up in the middle lane of the parkway. Not this time, thank the Lord. She was in her bedroom, even if she couldn’t shake the gravity of the dream. Part of her even wished she was still asleep, so she would know what happened. What was the stranger beneath the tree distressed about?
And how could every second of it feel so vivid, right down to the gravel and grass crunching under her feet to the smell of roasted chestnuts?
The lingering haze of the dream drifted away and last night’s events came hurtling back in. Automatically, Ginny’s fingers went to her neck, to the spot where Jonas’s teeth had accidentally nicked her and drawn blood. There was no cut, no pain, nothing to prove it had ever happened.