Scorched [Pain & Love 3] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Ashlei D. Hawley

  When she was finally able to press all of her naked skin against his, she shuddered deliciously. This was what she wanted, him against her, inside her, with her and only her in this way.

  “You’ll drive me insane before the night ends,” he murmured against her neck as he caressed her breasts and stomach. Her response was a breathy moan and another imploring kiss.

  “You’re two steps ahead of me, then,” she whispered in return. Her voice thrilled him. It spoke to him of luscious surrender and utter submission that demanded such in return. She was a myriad of needs and offers, and he found himself lost, enchanted.

  Refusing to let him delay what they both wanted any longer, she arched up toward him. His sharp intake of breath made her more confident, like her sexy shoes and skirt.

  “Take me.” She breathed the words into his mouth. It sounded cliché in her mind, as if it was a line from a badly written porno, but no other words came close to so simply conveying what she wanted. She belonged to him in a way she couldn’t understand. She wanted him to embrace that and take what was his, what she offered.

  Claiming his mouth again, she gasped against his lips when he slid into her. By merely existing in a realm where she could touch him, he had dissolved her essence into a collection of emotions, not thoughts. Therefore, against her mind’s protests, the immediate, sharp pain melted away to be replaced by a hazy lust edged with desperation.

  Deciding an eighteen-wheeler could hit her right then and she wouldn’t feel the pain, she moved her hips, urging him to take her, to have her as no other had. The passion he felt matched hers in his every move, in his dark, exotic gaze, and with his artist’s hands and tapered fingers. The electric waves exploded through her, bringing a throaty moan from her lips.

  Instinct drove her to wrap her legs around his waist and set her nails into his back as he thrust into her, making her heart rate thunderous and bringing soft, helpless whimpers from her throat. He kept his mouth fastened on hers as he plunged into her, devouring her very soul, it seemed, with those perfect lips.

  When the climax crashed into her, she cried out against his shoulder. The line between pain and pleasure blurred, fractured, vanished. Spasms wracked him, and he drove into her once more before he went still.

  With a pale sheen of sweat gleaming on her skin, she kissed him softly. Long, sweet kisses. “I’ll come over for coffee anytime,” she said teasingly, making him laugh before she closed her eyes and lost herself to sleep.

  Lydia panted, glowing with sweat and pleasure when she finished remembering her first sexual encounter. She’d never admit it to anyone, but when she hadn’t had other stimulating material on hand, her first time with Dan had always been her go-to masturbatory fantasy. No other experience matched its power to arouse and help bring her to climax.

  As she cleaned up in the bathroom, Lydia realized that not only was she still burning with an inability to sleep but her body was also as wound up and ready to go as it had been before she’d masturbated. Her inability to be satisfied could only have one meaning, and the knowledge brought with it a surge of anger that momentarily dampened, and then fanned, the flames of her desire even worse.

  Dan was close. The bastard.

  Throwing on clothing without even looking at what she was putting on, Lydia stormed down the hallway from her room. She went to find him.

  Chapter Four

  Dan watched as Lydia approached. He could feel her fire from where he sat, even though he was still several yards away. Part of him wanted to duck down in his seat and hope she wouldn’t see him. Another part wanted to start up his car, throw it in drive, and peel out of the neighbor’s driveway before she made it to him. He told both those parts to man up and plastered an ambivalent smirk on his face as she reached his vehicle.

  “Just couldn’t wait to see me, could you?” he joked as she flung open the passenger door. He was surprised she didn’t tear it off but knew that her human body lacked the enormous strength of her Dragon form.

  “I could say the same of you, but I’m not a sarcastic prick,” she retorted. “What are you doing here?”

  “Bumping the time frame for our date up. You game?”

  Glowering at him suspiciously, Lydia crossed her arms beneath her high, firm breasts. They were moderately sized, but she knew the position created cleavage in the proper setting. Because she leaned over to speak to Dan, she knew he had gotten an eyeful. He didn’t hide his appreciation of the view. “No.”

  Dan snapped his fingers, feigning disappointment at her refusal.

  “I’m trying to sleep. Go be a creeper somewhere else.”

  “I’ll be honest,” Dan replied, feeling a stroke of genius coming on. “I recently lost my place. I’m kind of just living out of my car right now.”

  Lydia felt a pang of surprising pain that the apartment where she’d lost her virginity no longer belonged to the man she’d given it to. Instead of acknowledging the feeling, she rolled her eyes and puffed out a breath. “Well, you can’t stay here. My sisters would not be down with that.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of asking,” Dan assured her. “I was just hanging out around here because I’m not doing anything until we catch up tomorrow.”

  “I was going to call today, actually. I forgot what time it was when we talked earlier.” Lydia’s wry tone didn’t come close to conveying her irritation. She’d been up way too late way too often as of recent.

  “No time like the present.”

  Dan’s gentle urging had Lydia rolling her eyes again. Straightening to relieve a kink she began to feel in her lower back, Lydia ran one hand through her hair as she considered. She knew her hair had always been one of Dan’s weaknesses, just like his dark features and big hands made her swoon. She did a quick perusal of him physically. Damn him. He was still practically perfect.

  “No coffee,” she finally insisted as she plopped down in his passenger seat. “I want a beer.”

  “As the lady commands.” Dan gave her a wink, hiding the wave of fear and desire that swept through him to have her so close to him again after so long. He started the car and drove toward the nearest bar.

  * * * *

  Mallory Wright and Leigh Garrett followed the scent of blood through the night. Death had come to an unwitting human. Terrible, vicious death stalked the shadows, and Mallory and Leigh remained one frustrating step behind.

  This was the third woman of the night. God only knew how many others they’d missed.

  Leigh scented the air. The stench of fear, excrement, and an overwhelming amount of wasted blood were an impressive mask, but he was still able to detect the undeniable and familiar aroma of a vampire he knew all too well.

  Henry De La Rosa. He was Leigh’s maker. The green-eyed ancient had revealed himself to be a jealous devil.

  Mallory watched as Leigh fell to one knee beside the body of Henry’s latest victim. She felt a similar swell of guilt in her breast as Leigh clenched a fist against his surge of the unwarranted emotion.

  Leigh blamed himself for not seeing what Henry was all the centuries they’d been close. Henry was responsible for the madness and death of the first woman Leigh loved. Marlyna had been Mallory’s previous incarnation, and Henry had recently tried to repeat history. He’d been found out before being able to permanently damage Mallory’s sanity, and Leigh had saved her immortal life. Disappearing before they’d been able to confront him about it, Henry had made it all too apparent that he was still around.

  Mallory’s guilt focused on the particular victims Henry had been gutting to leave in the streets. Long, tan limbs. Tumbling waves of radiant blonde hair. Bright blue eyes staring forever into the face of death. This one even wore a pretty little sundress, the type Mallory herself was fond of.

  “Bastard,” Mallory hissed the curse as her heart wrenched in pain for her mutilated lookalike. She was too slim to be mistaken for Mallory in person, and too young. But Henry got his message across in every blue-eyed blonde he slaughtered and left for the
m.

  “We have to find him and stop him, Leigh.” Mallory’s insistence was darkened by rage and hunger. Regardless if she mourned the innocent life lost before her, the spilled blood still spiked a ravenous appetite within her. She was a new vampire, after all, and the desire to feed was a burning ache she could not abate.

  With infinite gentleness, Leigh lifted the mangled body Henry flaunted for them. When Leigh turned his gray eyes to Mallory, they looked more like dark thunderheads preceding a violent summer storm than ever.

  “We don’t simply have to stop him,” Leigh responded quietly. “He betrays our entire kind with these horrific displays. We must destroy him.”

  A twinge of fear plunged into Mallory like an acid-tipped arrow. They were two against Henry’s one, as far as they knew, but he was older, craftier, more powerful, and obviously psychotic. He was faster than them both, though Leigh had told Mallory she was one of the fastest vampires he’d ever seen. Henry could prevent Leigh from smelling or sensing him. Allowing his scent to linger at the scene of his crimes was a taunt. They chased a creature that was a twisted master hunter, not prey to be easily overtaken and dealt with.

  Not only was there the matter of Henry’s advantages over them. Mallory also knew what could happen if they were to actually kill him. Leigh could revert to mortal form. Would he die, she wondered, after having been a vampire for so long? Would his human body just give out entirely if he reverted to a mortal after being an immortal?

  Mallory didn’t voice her worries about Leigh leaving her to immortality alone. They’d beaten extraordinary odds over two lifetimes to finally be together. She’d just begun to truly learn things about him that he’d attempted to keep secret in order to avoid drawing her close to him, as if it had been possible to keep her away. His favorite color was blue, and he had a fondness for caramel candy. He loved running through the rain and enjoyed reading science-fiction novels. Movies were a well-loved pastime that he’d used to distract himself over the course of many, many lonely nights. They shared likes and desires, goals and plans for the future. Their future together. Mallory wouldn’t let it go so easily.

  “How are we going to do this, Leigh?” Mallory thought her whisper sounded weak and timid, but she couldn’t help her tone. She was worried.

  “With help.”

  They began to run, intending to hide the body in a deep hole at least a full state away, as they had the last two. When they returned from their despicable task, Mallory asked the question that weighed on her. “Who are we going to be able to find to help us?”

  Leigh had considered this, and had his answer ready.

  “We need to talk to the Dragon sisters.”

  * * * *

  Henry De La Rosa soundlessly approached the Hunter from behind. Beneath the frail human demeanor, he scented power, darkness, and rot. His bloodlust receded. He’d noticed that with each frenzied kill it became harder to control.

  He loved it.

  “A man could get jumpy, vampires sneaking up on him in the dark.”

  “A man should,” Henry replied as he sat on the bench’s empty side next to Jerry. The park was empty and heavily wooded. At night in the unsuspecting and quiet residential area, they did not expect anyone would bother or overhear them. Crossing one leg over the other, Henry let one hand rest on his higher knee and swung the other arm over the back of the bench. As usual, the vampire felt certain he struck an impressive, handsome figure in the practiced pose.

  “I want to know how they survived the explosion.”

  Jerry was not a man for small talk, Henry had noticed. The Fallen Angel was ever direct and to the point. “I haven’t a clue,” Henry admitted. “Would you like me to lure them closer and ask?”

  “Something like that.” Jerry frowned, not looking at Henry.

  The vampire knew the Hunter’s warped, evangelical drive to purge the planet of the unnatural ate at the Hunter incessantly when they were in close proximity with each other. Jerry needed his assistance. More aptly, he needed the chaos only one like Henry could cause. For that reason, they were currently allied, Hunter and vampire. It was not an arrangement that Jerry was comfortable with. It amused Henry to no end.

  “The Dragon is still on the loose.” Jerry’s snarl of disgust was evident in his voice. “I shouldn’t have sent a new recruit on such an important mission, but he showed such promise…Now one of my most seasoned Hunters is missing, along with the new one, Dan. I’d say to be on the lookout for him, but he’s as unremarkable as the rest of us. If you come upon the Dragon and find a Hunter with her, it’s best to assume Dan switched loyalties and is with them now. I advise you use caution, but take him out if possible.”

  “What about the Dragons?” Henry inquired.

  “You leave the Dragons to us,” Jerry said in a steely voice.

  Henry smiled and offered the other man a demure nod. They were of a like mind when it came to the kind of damage they wanted to inflict on those who currently opposed the Hunters.

  “You’re certain you have them contained?” Henry wasn’t keen on the idea of being burned to a crisp as he tried to exterminate the possible deserter. The main threat of the three sisters was a traditional fire-breather. As long as she was in human form, Henry was faster and could avoid being flambéed. However, if she regained the ability to revert to her Dragon form, the flaming bitch Lydia would easily roast him before he could ever get close.

  The corner of the Hunter’s perfect mouth twitched. Henry maintained a pleasant expression as he watched Jerry ruminate on his response. The vampire’s smile widened until he thought his face might split from the corners of his grinning mouth. The image did not disturb him, and the smile extended until it looked maniacal.

  “I’ve done all but show you the still-beating heart that maintains the spell.” Henry decided not to push any further when he heard the razor-sharp edge on Jerry’s tone. He did want to see the heart, actually, but he doubted Jerry would be willing to give a vampire a tour of their new defensive location. From what Henry knew, having the heart in the Hunters’ possession kept a tight leash on the Dragon sisters’ powers. He wanted to know the details of the spell, but it wasn’t information Jerry had parted with yet.

  “And you’ve inspired a world of confidence,” Henry replied.

  His tone of placation was damaged by the spikes of mad glee, liked barbed wire on his fence of amiable communication with the Hunter. “You vampires have a problem with too much killing, don’t you?” Jerry asked. He made it a point to know the intricate details of his enemies. He knew the words of the elders and Munetero, the blood insanity, was not unfamiliar to him.

  “I am an ancient,” Henry snapped. All attempt at cordiality dissipated with the insult Jerry had delivered to him. “I am not so easily swayed to the sickness of mind capable of corrupting the weaker willed of my kind. Do well to remember, Fallen, I have been here almost as long as you, and my power does not stay constant as yours does. I continue to live, increasing my strength through the ages. You are limited by your puny human form.”

  Jerry gave Henry a slow, pondering nod. Henry didn’t like the way the Hunter looked at him, as though he had become a dangerous and volatile creature ready to go off at any minute. He may not like the necessity of it, but Henry knew he had an iron grip on his control.

  “I can kill a thousand humans and be in no more danger of losing my mind than any other vampire.”

  Jerry noted Henry’s sulky tone and deigned to respond. Instead, he stood and shook out his clothing, though they’d gathered not a speck of dust in the hours he’d been sitting on the park bench.

  “Make it more than a thousand.” Jerry didn’t look back at Henry as he spoke, so he didn’t see the vampire shiver in excitement. “I want the human filth of this town to drown in blood. We’ve been lenient on them for too long. Staying in the shadows, protecting them in secret. You bring me the chaos, and then we will come into the light.”

  “It will certainly be my pleasure.�
�

  Jerry heard the whispered words, but when he turned back to look at Henry, he saw only an empty bench. The vampire moved quickly. It was one of his many talents.

  Shrugging and rolling his head around to work out the tension in his neck, Jerry walked to the far side of the park, where his large black Hummer sat waiting for him. He drove around the lake, wondering if the time had come for them to try for the so-called wisewoman. She hadn’t moved, though she knew the danger they presented to her. Even after they’d attacked her family, Heddy Wright continued to sit her wrinkly ass in her decades-old blue chair and basically tossed Jerry and his Hunters the finger from her side of the lake.

  He possessed the heart of the Dragon who’d drawn her power from the lake and protected the residents with particular talents. Heddy was a psychic, as was her son and her granddaughter. She’d had an arrangement going with the Dragons for years. But it had been a long time since the matron of the clutch in his domain had been killed, her heart given to the Hunters. She’d traded her heart for the safety of her daughters, on the condition the Hunters didn’t kill them. That clause was easy to get around, he thought. As long as he captured and took them out all at once, as had been the plan Dan Richardson had fumbled, things would be fine and he wouldn’t have to worry about being burned alive.

  Even with the formidable Dragon matron out of the picture and her daughters incapacitated, Jerry had been hesitant to make a move against the residents. Her protection might still linger, he’d often considered, and he didn’t want some archaic magic to lash out against him for daring to take on an old woman who had to be looking death in the teeth, anyway. He would wait it out, though he didn’t enjoy it.

  Jerry frowned until his brow began to tingle. If he’d been purely human, his irritable musings would have brought on a migraine by now. He didn’t wish for the pain. If he had no reminders that he wore a human disguise, Jerry would be content. As it was, there were constant reminders that the frail, normal-looking costume he was forced to accept as his prison was the body of a man.