by Zoë Archer
As he approached her, the hidden beast poked his head out from under her arm and growled a warning.
“I mean her no harm, puss, now bugger off.”
If only that were true. Her mere presence within his house put her in danger, but that was never his intention. He’d had no choice in the matter. The king had ordered it. Somehow, that knowledge did nothing to ease his conscience.
He took the book from her lap and shut it. The beast hissed and jumped from the chair as if begging for a confrontation. He glanced at the agitated cat, then back at Angelique. She seemed so peaceful and blissfully enchanted. Perhaps she dreamed of fairies dancing about in a lush garden. He envied her untainted memories. His dark haunted dreams had forever burned their ugliness into his soul. He sighed. No, she would never be able to accept a monster like him, even if Rafaele no longer loomed in the background. She was light and everything good. He was dark and everything evil.
He gently shook her. She moaned and shifted, but she did not wake. Her clothing twisted, revealing the tops of her creamy breasts. He gasped. How he yearned to trace his finger over those swells, to rain kisses along her delicate curves. But he could not. She did not belong to him …and never would. Never could. She stretched, then settled deeper into the chair, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
He knelt next to the chair and studied her features, his face inches away from hers. As if she sensed a presence, her eyes popped open and she strangled out a yelp. She jumped to her feet and swayed. Realizing she wasn’t quite awake, he stood, then reached out and grabbed her before she tumbled to the floor. The force of her body hitting his knocked him backward over the arm of the chair onto its soft cushion. Angelique landed on top of him, his hands grasping firm, rounded buttocks.
Her heart beat hard against his chest as she struggled for breaths.
“I did not mean to startle you. Molly said I would find you in the library,” he whispered in her ear, not knowing how to remove himself from such a situation without her noticing his rather huge response to her innocent contact.
She squirmed to right herself, which only added to his discomfort. “I…I must have fallen asleep.”
He swung his legs over the arm of the chair, turning her body to where her backside now rested directly on his more than lively member. Damnation! She would surely be his demise. How much was he expected to endure and resist? She tempted him beyond anything he’d ever experienced in all his centuries of living.
“Yes, you were sleeping quite soundly,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He grasped her by the waist and set her firmly upon her feet in front of him.
She grabbed her head and staggered backward. “My head…”
He stood and gathered her into his arms just as her legs collapsed again and her body went slack. Her cat hissed and spit. Damien carried her through the doors and up the stairs. Her body felt right cradled against his and had he not been so worried about her condition, he would have savored the moment.
Once he reached her room, he placed her upon the bed and sat next to her, his weight dipping one side. He ran his finger along her cheek, pushing her hair aside. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened.
“I do believe it was you who stated you were not prone to swooning. Hmm?” He raised his eyebrows in question.
“I do not swoon,” she stated, her chin lifting in defense.
“Ah, I suppose you just fell back asleep while standing?” A grin spread across his face.
“Precisely.” She smiled in return.
His heart lurched. She brightened his existence with just a simple smile. In her presence, it was too easy to forget his past and the dangers that trailed him like the plague.
But for her sake, he could not forget. The humor evaporated from his expression. She deserved to be loved by a human male who could offer himself freely—no hidden past, no threat of danger.
All he could offer was brief passion and death.
Angelique stared at Damien in confusion. Her face scrunching in deep thought.
“I must go,” he bit out.
She grabbed his arm to keep him from rising. “What have I done?” she pleaded, moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.
His countenance softened. “You’ve done nothing. You need to rest.” Damien hated to see any woman cry, but to see the start of tears forming in her eyes caused a sharp pain to center deep in his chest.
“No, I’m fine. I assure you.”
“You would not faint if you were fine.” As his own words sank into his head, a sickening thought occurred to him. “Are you with child?” He held his breath as he waited for the answer. The thought of another taking what should be his clawed at his sanity.
She gasped. “What? No! Of course not. It’s not possible. I’ve never…”
The shock upon her face led him to believe she spoke the truth. No, she could not be. His every instinct told him she was an innocent. But why did it matter so much to him even if she were? He needed to change the subject and fast.
“Then what caused the swooning?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. What did she hide?
“I…my head hurt. I had a pain, a buzzing of sorts.”
“Does this happen often? This buzzing?” He quirked one brow and fixed her with a stare.
“No. It’s never happened before. Only when you…” She glanced down.
He reached out and tilted her chin back. “Only…when…I…what, Angelique?” He drew out each word. She was definitely hiding something.
The black of her eyes dilated and her lips clamped shut.
“What is it, Angelique? Tell me. I have ways to loosen your lips.” He focused on her full lips. Oh God, did he have ways. A spark of fear flashed across her eyes. Good, she should fear him. “Speak, Angelique.”
The stubborn chit pressed her lips even tighter together. He would just scare her a bit. Nothing more. He bent and stroked his tongue across her lips. She jolted, but didn’t pull away. He pressed further and her lips parted.
She tasted every bit as sweet as he remembered. What he didn’t expect was her bold acquiescence. Instead of scaring her, she had inflamed him. He was no longer in control. She was. He pressed her back onto the bed, deepening the kiss, his body covering hers.
A soft mewing sounded from deep in her throat as sharp claws sliced into his arm, shredding his silk shirt. He jerked his head up. Her bloody beast of a cat glared at him, his ears pinned back to his head, a feral growl warning him away.
“Damnation beast!” Damien roared.
“Lancelot! Stop this at once.” Lancelot continued his tirade and lifted his paw to strike out again.
Damien scurried out of the bed and lifted his hands in the air. “I surrender. Bloody cat!”
“I’m so sorry. Let me look at your arm.” She crawled out of bed and crossed to him.
He pulled his injured arm away from her and covered it with his opposite hand. “It is nothing. A mere scratch.” The slight wound was probably already healed. He did not want to have to explain such inhuman feats.
“I do not know what came over Lancelot. He is very protective of me. He must have thought you meant me harm.”
“He was right in protecting you. I had no right.” He walked to the door, then said over his shoulder, “I will return with the tray.”
“No, wait. I am not hungry.”
“Very well. I shall see you in the morning. Do get some rest. I would hate for you to swoon again.” He closed the door with a click.
“Having a hard time resisting, are you, friend?” Rafaele leaned his shoulder against the wall, his feet crossed at the ankles in a relaxed pose.
Damien was not fooled. Rafaele baited him, waiting for him to make the first move. He would not play into the demon’s hands so easily. “Leave my house.”
“Ah, see you lost the right to demand anything of me once you killed my wife, my eternal mate.” He raised his long, sharp fingernail and picked his teeth, deliberately sh
owing off his blood stained fangs. “By the way, your housekeeper, Molly is it? She was quite tasty.”
Damien charged Rafaele. Before he could make contact, Rafaele burst into millions of shiny pieces and morphed into a bat.
“How very primitive of you, Rafaele,” Damien taunted.
“I shall return.” Laughter faded down the corridor.
Damien clenched his hands into fists and paced outside Angelique’s door. He’d played right into Rafaele’s hands. And condemned Angelique to a fate worse than death. Damn him to hell.
~~~
Fangs. Blood. Death.
Angelique woke with a start. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. It was a vision, not a dream. She trembled from the new knowledge. Damien was more than he appeared, but what? Memories of his untamed kiss flooded back to her conscious mind. Her face heated. Her whole body heated.
Lancelot stretched and let out a little mew. I told you.
Told me what? Angelique clambered out of bed, quickly performed her morning ablutions, and attempted to make herself presentable.
That he is dangerous.
A knock sounded at the door.
She stiffened. “Yes?”
“I brought you a tray to break your fast.” Damien’s sensuously deep voice filtered through the room, surrounding her in a cocoon of warmth.
She opened the door. “Please come in.”
He entered and set the tray on a table. “I will be leaving. You shall be safe here.” His eyes bore into hers. “But remember, per the king’s order, you are in my care. You must do as I say. Do not leave the premises.” He reached out a hand and clamped his fingers over her trembling chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Dangers exist you cannot begin to comprehend.”
Safe? A buzzing sound pulled her out of her thoughts. Words streamed through her head as if she’d opened a mind link—but it couldn’t be. She only had the ability with animals. What was happening?
Fangs. Blood. Death.
Blackness enveloped her, and her body went slack.
“Angelique!” A voice pulled her back toward the light, and she slowly opened her eyes to meet the amber glow of a demon. She screamed and struck out at the constricting evil. Strong hands captured her flailing limbs. “Woman, have you lost your mind? Stop this.”
“I saw what you did. Blood everywhere. He said he would return.”
Damien’s head jerked back as if he’d been struck.
“Who?”
“A beast like you.” Angelique clenched her jaw shut. She’d said too much. He would guess her secret.
“Beast? That is how you see me?” Damien released his hold on her. Raw hurt glittered in his golden eyes, emphasizing the air of isolation that seemed to surround him. “I must go. You will be safe as long as it remains light, and I will be back before the sun sets.”
As a child, she’d heard tales of creatures that fed off the blood of others and walked only in darkness. Vampires. She watched his retreating form. Could he be? As if answering her question, when he reached the door he turned and smiled.
She gulped. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the door shut with an audible click. Alone.
She was a fool to have come to court. What did she care who ruled England? It made little difference in her secluded world. Besides, the king had no interest in what she had to say. She would only draw attention to herself and her unnatural gift by discussing her vision with the king. Let fate deal its cruel hand.
No, her conscience would never allow it. Her mother had taught her to help others. She must find a way to warn the king of the treason growing within the circle of his closest advisors. Treachery among those of trust was the worst form of betrayal, and Angelique couldn’t let it continue.
As the day wore on, icy shards of evil foreboding seeped into her bones. The sun would soon set—and then what?
Uncomfortable humming vibrated in her head as her body burned from within. He was near. They were now linked in some bizarre fashion. The compulsion twined around her heart, tugging her deeper into his grasp. A force greater than either of them kept its claws wrapped firmly around them, pulling each closer toward some unknown destiny.
Lancelot twitched his tail in irritation. He comes.
Yes. A tingle climbed its way up her spine as she watched the room darken. Chilling black silence surrounded them. She lit several candles to lighten the room.
The noises in her head intensified, forming word-like patterns. The link strengthened. She tried to focus. To understand. Yet, still she was unable to make sense of them.
A light scratching broke her concentration. The door creaked open, revealing the man who not only tortured her mind—but her body as well. Damien. Even knowing what creature he must be did nothing to distract from his dark beauty. She swallowed the temptation to fling herself into his arms and press her lips to his. Her own driving need shocked her. What sickness had invaded her? Inflamed and sensitive, her body screamed for his caress.
His gold eyes sparkled with an unmistakable hunger. No longer caring what demons possessed her, she yearned for his molten touch.
He felt it, too. He was an open book.
All at once, her mind filled with his memories, his emotions. The wall he’d erected came tumbling down. She knew the creature he used to be and the struggles to become the man he was now. He’d desperately tried to resist his desires … to save her, to protect her. But he had no more fight left in him. He knew as well as she that they were destined to be together.
Come to me. Damien’s crystal clear words formed in her mind—magnetic and compelling. They were now linked. Bonded.
No longer in control of her body, she glided toward him.
Yes, love. Come to me. He held his arms out in welcome.
She fell into his embrace, and his lips claimed hers in a passionate dance. Her clothes fell from her body in a silent swish. How, she didn’t know. He gathered her up into his arms and placed her on the bed. Her heart hammered in her chest and threatened to explode from sheer need.
He removed his silk shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted chest. Crisp black hair trailed down his abdomen, swirled around his navel, then dipped into breeches bearing the visual signs of arousal.
Come to me, she begged. He froze and stared in dark fascination.
“You bewitch me. I hear your voice inside my head and have no mastery of my passion.” His voice was little more than a whisper.
“Nor I, my dark lord,” she said. It was her voice, but not her speaking. Her mind screamed danger, but her disloyal body betrayed her better sense, leaving her naked and vulnerable to his sexual power.
Warmth soaked into her writhing form as Damien covered her body with his. Sandalwood and maleness infused her greedy senses. She craved more and hoped he knew what would cure her burning need.
~~~
Curious, Damien gazed at the luscious vixen sprawled upon his bed. How did her voice penetrate his mind, a connection shared only with others of his kind? Somehow she was different, but how?
The glow from the candles heightened the translucence of her face and neck, accentuating the blue vein in her throat that beckoned him.
He bid his lust subside, to no avail. Her life would be in peril if he continued along this fatal path, but a force greater than his drew him toward her.
Damien climbed on top of her, settling between her trembling thighs. Their lips crushed together in a fevered indulgence, tongues twisting and caressing like a ritual mating. Never had he experienced such abandon. His teeth instinctively elongated, so he broke the kiss lest she discover his perfidy.
He nibbled the hollow of her throat. Her pulse throbbed against his sensitive flesh, and his nostrils flared with the essence of vanilla and musky passion. His teeth grazed her skin, leaving a fine line of crimson. Groaning, he lapped the precious fluid, tasting its sweet metallic essence as it flowed across his papillae.
Fighting a losing battle, he lifted his body and sucked in a cleansing breath to calm t
he raging need to possess and brand the woman beneath him. He must stop this insanity now before it was too late. He couldn’t bear to see the horror in her eyes when she realized he was the monster she accused him of being. No, he could not continue along this destructive path.
Arching her body toward his, she wrapped her demanding fingers around his neck and drew his face down for a soul-reaching kiss. Blood pounded in his brain, clouding all thoughts of resistance.
The heat from her body sizzled his flesh and incinerated his good intentions. Blood swishing through her veins echoed through his head until he was almost mad from the wanting. He must have her. She was more than ready, and he was unable to fight his desire any longer. He thrust deeply into her welcoming sheath.
The scent of blood rose strong in the air. Virgin blood. Reality slammed hard into his gut. Life-mate. She was his destiny. Only one act left to complete the eternal bond. How could he condemn her to death? To a life he cursed every day? It wasn’t right, but his body urged him to completion. When his release was eminent, Damien sank his teeth deep into her offered throat. Pleasure exploded and crackled between them.
He had found his life-mate, but she would soon die if he couldn’t stop Rafaele. He eased off her, pulling her into his arms. She curled up like a small kitten, innocent and trusting. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter.
He couldn’t deny it. They were meant to be. He loved her. It had been a sealed deal the moment he’d laid eyes on her. She was his, body and soul.
Moments later, the sound of her light breathing drifted through the room.
~~~
Lancelot growled and hissed at the door. Damien moved off the bed, careful not to disturb Angelique’s peaceful slumber. He inched into the hall, paying close attention to the swirling smoke that metamorphosed into the form of his hated enemy.
“You fulfilled the ritual. You are a greater fool than I imagined,” Rafaele said with a sneer.
“Why can you not leave me in peace? I never meant to hurt Catarina.”
“Her name is a curse upon your lips. Never speak it again. Soon your debt will be paid and vengeance will be mine.” Rafaele’s eyes flamed with promise.