by Rachel Lee
Luc sat up front beside Jude, his tense posture and the way he kept looking around telling her that while Jude drove, Luc was on sentry duty.
Beside her sat Terri, who drifted to sleep. In the rear sat Chloe, who was unusually silent.
But of course. Jude felt the danger was great enough to get the women out of town. Except for the three humans, he and Luc probably would have stayed.
Once again she was a burden to be protected. Dani’s mouth soured at the thought, but realistically she had to admit there wasn’t much she could do to help. She had spoken brave words, but it remained utterly beyond her to imagine how she could be anything but a hindrance.
About an hour north of the city, they turned off-road. Or maybe they were still on some road, but to Dani it looked as if they were wending their way among trees.
“How can you see where to go?” she asked finally.
“The road is there,” Luc answered. “It retains a bit of heat from the sun yesterday, more than the woods beneath the trees.”
“And you can see that through the snow?”
“Easily.”
“My God,” she muttered, once again facing the huge differences between vampires and mere humans like herself. She was surprised to feel Terri reach out and pat her forearm.
“Vampires,” Terri said, “are actually quite gifted. But what’s working for us now can work against us with those rogues.”
“Yes,” said Luc. “The passage of our car has left a heat trail for miles. I hope our departure went unobserved.”
Dani couldn’t even think of a reply for that. About the only equivalence she could make was her pack’s ability to follow a scent even after it was weeks old, or even to follow one hundreds of feet above them in the air. She wasn’t that capable herself, but she had some small experience.
These vampires magnified everything, she thought: strength, speed, vision, smell. She most certainly didn’t want her pack in the middle of this, although she felt more homesick at that moment than she had since the first days after her arrival in the city.
The cabin looked like an ordinary log cabin, albeit a large one, in a wide clearing. Only when they entered did Dani see that it was far from ordinary.
She felt as if she had stepped into some kind of bunker. The walls appeared to be solid steel; every one of the few windows was covered by heavy metal shutters. And even though there was a stone chimney outside, there was no fireplace. The door that closed behind them might have been part of a bank vault.
It was warm and furnished, however, chairs and love seats in bright colors making up as best they could for the utter lack of rustic charm.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A bunker,” Luc replied.
“I can see that. But why?”
“Now that Creed has Yvonne to worry about,” Jude answered, “he decided he needed a safe place to put her. The changes he made for us were mostly for you mortals’ comfort.”
“But why?”
Luc was suddenly in front of her, entirely too close. “When a vampire loves a human,” he said, holding her with his suddenly dark gaze, “he has a weakness that can be used against him. Someone he cannot protect during the day. Ordinary precautions are not enough then.”
She felt overwhelmed again by his proximity. Something in her longed to reach out and touch him, to feel him, to find out if vampire skin was warm or cold, or hard or soft. To find out if he could gentle his strength so that it wouldn’t hurt her. To discover whether she fit against him.
He must have sensed it, because his gaze grew even darker. For an instant he leaned toward her. Then, quickly, he turned away.
Dani instinctively reached for her wolf’s head necklace to remind herself of the gulf between them, to feel its etchings as a way to remember who and what she was. As if she really knew.
“I’ve had it,” Chloe announced. “Where’s Creed and do I get a bedroom?”
“Creed’s coming back up tomorrow night. Yvonne has a meeting she couldn’t miss today, and he’s not on the rogues’ radar yet, anyway.”
“We think.” Chloe sniffed. Dani thought she looked exhausted. “Bed?”
“Four bedrooms,” Jude said. “Help yourself.” He turned to Luc. “You two, as well. Find a comfortable place for Dani.”
Luc nodded and touched her elbow, guiding her toward the back of the house. Electricity zinged through her at his touch, even though her jacket prevented it from being at all intimate.
“We’re safe here, anywhere in the house,” he said quietly as he guided her to the bedroom past the one Chloe entered. “You may as well enjoy a bed. You haven’t had much sleep.”
It was true, and even adrenaline was failing to keep her energized now that they were indoors, safe and warm. The bedroom held a large bed, a chair, a dresser, and in one wall a door led to a small bathroom. The colors were cheerful. He dropped her duffel on the foot of the bed.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, turning to him.
“In a little while, I’ll be in the sleep of death. It won’t matter where I am. The floor will do.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He gave her a half smile. “You could kill me then, little wolf.”
She gasped. “No!”
A quiet laugh escaped him. “You didn’t feel that way even two days ago.”
She flushed, knowing he was right. But now somehow killing a vampire didn’t seem quite like exterminating vermin. Yes, her pack would definitely disown her if they ever found out.
Once again Luc stood in front of her, so fast she hadn’t seen him move, so close they nearly touched. Her heart slammed into high gear, but it was not from fear. If she closed her eyes, she was sure she would sway toward him, and then all her questions would be answered.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “You call to me, Dani Makar. As nothing has called to me in a very long time.” His fingers touched her cheek, brushing the hot skin. They felt cool, but not cold.
“When you blush, you arouse me. I want to take you. Make love to you. I want to show you delights you can barely imagine. And you are curious, aren’t you, little wolf? You feel the same things in a human way, but you have no idea just how I could make those feelings blossom into something you have never imagined.”
She drew a shaky breath, at once excited by his words and frightened she might give in.
His fingers trailed from her cheek to her breast, brushing lightly over her nipple, which was already engorged. She sucked air, and instead of pushing him away, she tilted her head back in surrender. The desire he awoke overpowered her, drove out every bit of common sense and need to protect herself. Her entire universe centered around his gently brushing fingers, and around the hot, wet, heavy desire throbbing between her legs.
No one had ever made her feel these things. No one. As a normal, not even the potential mates among her pack and neighboring packs had ever showed the least interest in her.
But this vampire, this bloodsucker, was awakening her to a world she had scarcely imagined. And she wanted to taste it. For just once in her life she wanted to know what it meant to be desirable.
“I want you,” he murmured. “More than you can imagine. But there is no time right now. I couldn’t take you all the way before sleep claims me.”
Disappointment started to crash through her. Her first response was anger, the certainty that he was lying to her, but when she met his gaze again, looked into those black depths, she knew he was being honest. His gaze had grown heavy-lidded but even more intense, almost as if he were willing her to feel what he was feeling.
She didn’t know what to do or say. She had no experience with this. None. “Luc…” For the first time since meeting him, she was absolutely certain of one thing: she didn’t want him to leave her alone.
He must have read the wish in her scents, in her face, somewhere. For she was in his arms almost before she knew it. He carried her to the bed, stripped off her open jacket and boo
ts, and slipped her beneath the covers.
Then, moving slowly, almost as if he feared rejection, he stretched out beside her on top of the covers.
“Touch me,” he murmured. “Learn whatever you like. I wish I had more time, but I can’t resist the sleep of death for long. For this little time, I am yours, ma belle. Totally.”
The invitation seduced her completely. Heat blossomed in her like a nuclear explosion and then her womanhood melted.
Her hand shook a little as she pulled it from beneath the covers and rolled toward him. He remained as still as if he were carved from stone, his eyes all that seemed alive. Intensely alive.
Tentatively, she touched his cheek and felt smooth skin. It was not cold skin, though it felt slightly cool. He turned his head, pressing a kiss onto her palm, then faced her again, waiting for what she would do next.
She wasn’t certain. She didn’t know how. But touching him was enough for now. She traced the strong bones of his face and trailed her fingers down to the throat of his shirt where she felt his pulse. Slower than hers, but strong.
He had a heartbeat. He was not dead, as her pack claimed. The dead didn’t have heartbeats. Their skin wasn’t this warm. Her mind whirled with the discovery.
And with it came a sense of power. The most dangerous beast of her childhood now lay beside her like a lamb, submitting to her. She knew his strength, she knew he could be dangerous, she knew he wasn’t mortal, but none of that seemed important. Right now he was hers.
And if he felt anything like what he had made her feel, he was exercising immense self-control, because she knew how badly she wanted him right now. She might have torn at his clothes, feeling like this, except she had never done this before.
Fear warred with need, and fear won, barely. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself by showing her inexperience, by doing something wrong.
Biting her lip, she hesitantly worked the buttons on his shirt, then pressed her palm to his bare chest.
“Ah…” he sighed. “I will tell you a small secret, ma belle.”
She made a questioning sound.
“The only warmth I can feel anymore is the warmth of a human touch. And it feels so very good. Keep your hand on me until I sleep. Please.”
He slipped an arm beneath her, holding her close, and she didn’t mind it at all. Indeed, she liked it. She rubbed her palm over his chest, listening to his satisfied sighs.
Then suddenly he stiffened, drew a sharp breath and went still.
When she looked into his face, she knew he had gone to sleep. The sleep of death, he called it.
She hesitated, then leaned forward to press an ear to his chest. She listened for a few minutes but heard nothing, no heartbeat, no breath.
She drew back a little, some atavistic response telling her to get away. But somehow she had moved past that.
She could kill him now, he had said.
Such trust left her feeling almost weak, yet incredibly powerful.
Instead, she curled a little closer until her head rested on his arm, feeling safer than she had since the attack. She’d had almost no sleep in two nights now, and some bills just had to be paid.
With her body tucked against her pack’s mortal enemy, she fell into deep sleep.
Dani awoke before Luc. Her hand was still tucked within his shirt, but she felt a difference now. He was cooler, though not any colder than the room. Not by the merest twitch or breath did he show any life.
Part of her wanted to jerk back, but mostly she found questions tumbling through her mind, questions about his past, about being a vampire. Questions that her pack had ignored by treating them as the ultimate boogeymen.
So much of what she had believed had been turned upside down during the past two nights. Her pack would never believe that Luc had killed another of his kind to protect her. Never.
But she had to face facts, and that was a fact.
If her family even guessed where she was now, or that she had committed herself to taking part in a battle between vampires, they would be outraged. They might disown her. They would certainly drag her home to remind her of where her loyalties should lie.
But was she really being disloyal to her own kind by accepting that not all vampires were cold, heartless killers?
No. She had learned something, and now she simply couldn’t go back to her old mindset, which had turned out to be a black-and-white view of something far more complicated.
She sighed quietly and thought about home, about how she missed it, and then with piercing certainty realized she could not return except to visit.
That was no longer her life, and the new one she was building here included a whole different view of some things.
There was no going back, not now.
All of a sudden she felt Luc’s chest expand beneath her hand. Simultaneously, she heard him draw a deep, sharp breath. She looked up and saw his dark eyes snap open.
The instant he saw her, he smiled.
Helplessly, she smiled back.
“You did not flee,” he murmured, as if he was surprised.
“No.”
His smile deepened. He raised a hand to cover hers where it lay on his chest. “I see questions in your gaze. Ask.”
She hesitated, afraid of prying, yet lying together so intimately like this seemed to invite frankness. Finally she blurted, “Are you really dead when you sleep?”
“No. That’s why we’re called the undead. I can wake from sleep if I must, although it’s not easy. But if you were to scream my name, I would be there for you.”
She flushed a little, touched that he put it in terms of protecting her. “How old are you?”
“Ah…well, do you count the years since my change? I was forty at the time I made the choice to live rather than die at the hands of the guillotine. I flatter myself that I look a bit younger.”
“You do,” she agreed. “And before that?”
“What? Do you mean what was I like back then? You will never believe me.”
“Why not?”
He laughed softly. “I was mostly interested in my estates. I was concerned with science and bettering my crops. I had little interest in the life at court. In short, I was rather dull. And perhaps a trifle heedless. In my quiet corner of France I thought the revolution would not reach me. I was, I believed, good to those who tilled my land and served my needs. In retrospect, I think I was not good enough. Privilege, to which I was born, can blind us to our own good fortune and the lack of fortune among others.”
She considered that and nodded slowly. “I think I understand.”
“You see your pack as privileged, don’t you? And you feel underprivileged by comparison. It does not make you happy.”
“But I wouldn’t harm them!”
“No, but the situation is different, little wolf. They are your family and they cared for you enough that you love them. But I think you resent that you cannot be one of them.”
A pain pierced her heart, because he was right. Definitely right. It made her feel more than a little ugly.
“So,” he continued, “whether I was a good or bad master may not have mattered as much as that the lower classes resented me because they could never achieve my rank and comforts. I cannot blame them.”
“Really? You’ve forgiven that?”
“Over two hundred years is a long time to bear a grudge. It is so much easier to forgive.”
“And now?” she asked. “How do you feel about the deal you made to change?”
“Mostly I have been glad of it, although I must confess I had very little idea of what I was agreeing to. I have mentioned the newborns. Well, I was one of them and the things I did were ugly. I will not share them. But at some point I finally realized I could not continue that way. Perhaps my conscience reasserted itself. My memories of that time are a bit confused, because learning to restrain my impulses preoccupied all my attention and will. But I learned.”
He squeezed her hand. “I feel your warmth. I
t is a delight I never would have known as I was before. I have gained things and learned things that a mere mortal life never would have taught me. But everything is magnified. Everything. I cannot even begin to tell you how much and in what ways.”
She watched his nostrils flare as if he were inhaling her, something she could totally identify with. His scent to her had become almost intoxicating. She reciprocated, drawing him into her lungs.
“Your eyes,” she murmured finally, trying to retain some self-control in the face of wild sexual urges that were beginning to dominate her. “Why do they change color?”
“Ah.” He shook his head a little, smiling. “My eyes grow dark when I am hungry or feeling strong emotion. When I’m content and well fed, they’re golden.”
“So I should pay attention?”
“You, ma chère, need never worry.” With that he swooped in and covered her mouth with his, kissing her with an intensity her wildest imaginings had never approached. It wasn’t painful, it was consuming, as if he wished to drink in her very soul. When his tongue darted between her lips and teeth, it was cool and wickedly knowledgeable, causing an unexpected cascade of yearning through her.
She would never be able to resist him. Never. That should have frightened her, but she was incapable of feeling fear amidst the heat that swamped her. When his fingers added their touch, caressing her throat and then her breast, she was lost in a haze of need more intense than anything she had ever felt.
She heard herself moan faintly, felt her body strain toward him, utterly his, wishing she could melt into him and never emerge, wishing she could stay forever in this place he had just taken her.
But as suddenly as he had lifted her to the pinnacle, he pulled back and she crashed to cold reality.
He stood now beside the bed, seeming light-years away. “I am sorry,” he said quietly. “This it too dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Languid and disappointed all at once, she couldn’t gather her thoughts.
“Dangerous,” he repeated. “I don’t want to take what you are not sure you wish to give. Nor do I ever want to claim another.”