by Amber Kallyn
He knelt before her, barely fitting in the small bathroom, and slid her pants down her legs. She stepped out of them, standing proudly in front of his appreciative gaze in only two scraps of lace.
***
Brandon stared at her. She was beautiful, perfect in every way from her bountiful breasts, wide hips made for bearing children, and long legs that went on for miles.
His blood pounded so loudly, it was like a thumping beat in his head. He reached out, unable not to touch her, and traced along the top of her pale blue panties. She trembled and he throbbed with satisfaction.
She wanted him.
His desire for this woman was so fierce, he no longer cared if it was magic or fate. For she had touched him beyond words, a place deep inside that now bloomed with soft, strange emotions. It didn’t feel like a spell, but rather like finally coming home.
Sweeping her up in his arms, he headed for her bedroom.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly along his collar-bone.
Setting her on the bed, he reached for her bra, drawing the clasp open.
She shrugged her shoulders and let the blue lace slip down her shoulders, her arms, to the floor.
Meeting her gaze, he stood, pleased as she reached for his jeans and tugged them down.
Celeste gasped, the sound husky. “Commando, huh?”
“I’ve never liked the newer invention of male underwear.”
She blinked at his statement, then smiled.
As she helped him remove his pants, her hands caressed him boldly. The need to sink into her, to take her and claim her as his own tried to override his thoughts.
Laying her down, he joined her on the bed, stretching along side her. She reached for him, caressing his chest, his stomach.
He nearly groaned when her hands dipped lower. He kissed her, losing himself in her taste. She was ambrosia, the honey of the gods, and he wanted more.
***
Celeste couldn’t think. Didn’t want to. She loved being lost in his touch.
He rose, trailing his hot mouth over her breasts. She shuddered at the powerful feelings expanding inside.
She felt safe.
Alive.
Needed.
He nipped at her, sliding his fangs deliciously over her skin. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples tight and hard. Brandon suckled one deep into the blazing heat of his mouth. She gasped as pleasure shot through her, making her back arch.
He chuckled, a rough deep sound that made her shiver in anticipation.
Meeting her gaze, he flicked her other nipple with his tongue. The sight of his fangs made the pleasure sweeping through her tingle with a dangerous edge.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered huskily.
She scraped her nails over his shoulders. He groaned, burying his face against her neck. His hardness throbbed against her thigh.
She trailed her hands down his back and over his tight ass.
He was perfection, all warrior strength bound with gentle protectiveness.
As the lingering pain from the cuts on her arms broke through the haze of desire, she realized she didn’t want gentleness. She wanted, needed, strength and power.
She tugged on his long, soft hair. When he rose once more, she kissed him with the heady passion inside her, demanding he give her everything she desired.
The feeling of connection.
Of not being alone.
He kissed her in a frenzy, his body tightening above her.
He moved down to tug at her underwear, drawing them down her legs, then tossed them to the floor.
His hands drifted over her calves, her knees, up her thighs, making her tremble even more. Then he replaced his fingers with his mouth, licking the skin on her inner thigh. Sensations exploded inside her.
She tangled her hands in his hair, breathless as he loved her.
He took her higher and higher, spinning her around on a plateau of pleasure. When she fell, she was screaming his name.
Her body tightened as she orgasmed against his delicious touch. As she grew pliant, he glanced at her, a satisfied grin curling his delectable mouth.
He rose, hovering above her, easing up her body until the light dusting of blond hair on his chest tickled her nipples, making them tingle.
Nearly mindless, she wanted to grasp him, pull him deep inside.
“Protection,” she managed to mumble.
“I’m a vampire. You don’t have to worry about anything, disease or pregnancy,” he whispered.
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
With a sigh of acceptance, she tugged his mouth back to her skin.
He kissed her neck, sucking on her skin lightly as he drove into her. She gasped at the feel, raising her hips to take him all.
Whispering his name, she raked her nails down his back, as the feeling of completeness overwhelmed her.
Stunned, she grasped his hair, tugging until he met her gaze. She stared at him as he drew back, then filled her once more.
She felt as if she’d come home. To the place she belonged.
Their connection went beyond their bodies, down to their very souls.
Brandon groaned, slamming into her. She mewled as the pleasure intensified beyond belief.
He moved in and out of her in a rush and she rose, meeting each thrust of his hips. The peak grew closer and all she could do was hold on for the ride.
Chapter twelve
The orgasm exploded, rushing through Celeste. Brandon groaned, moving faster as he came with her.
Their movements slowed, though her breathing remained heavy. The haze of pleasure drifted over her. Brandon eased to her side, pulling her against his chest and keeping her delightfully trapped.
“Wow,” she said, glancing at him.
He smiled like a cat full of cream, placing a light kiss on the corner of her lips.
He brushed his hand over her arm, as if soothed by their cuddling. Her breathing calmed, her heartbeat slowed. Her body tingled from the pleasures he’d given her.
Beside her, the tense lines of his body had loosened. He studied her, eyes shining with wonder. She lay relaxed, her body pliant, sweetly comforted by his heat surrounding her.
A pounding at her front door jerked them both from their languid afterglow.
Celeste jumped up, tugging on her clothes. On the other side of the bed, Brandon watched her as he grabbed his jeans, his eyes bright with some emotion she couldn’t name.
The pounding continued, louder, more persistent.
Just as she reached the door and was about to open it, Brandon slammed his hand on the wood, keeping it closed. “Wait.”
He glanced through the peep hole, craning his head to try to see more of the hall. Closing his eyes, he sniffed the air.
Finally, he stepped back and nodded.
Celeste cautiously pulled the door open, unprepared for the body flying into her arms.
“Shana?” she asked, as he sister grabbed her around the waist.
She was soaking wet and shivering.
Celeste led Shana to the couch. Behind them, Brandon closed the door.
Her sister whimpered, burrowing against her.
“Shana, what’s wrong?”
She continued to shake, occasionally mumbling incoherently.
Glancing at Brandon, Celeste pointed to the hall. “Get me some towels from the closet. A blanket too.”
He nodded sharply and left the living room.
Celeste did the only thing she could. As when they were children and her sister needed comforting, she rocked them side to side, smoothing Shana’s hair, and quietly sang one of their mother’s favorite songs.
When Brandon returned with the towels, she grabbed one and tried wrapping it around Shana’s shoulders. Her sister fought as Celeste tried moving a little bit away.
“Come. I need to get you dry, sweetling.” She kept singing softly, and was slowly able to wrap her sister up in the towels, then the blanket
.
Hercules jumped up beside them and Shana jerked, panicked, crying out hoarsely.
Brandon scooped up the kitten and sat in a chair facing them. His eyes were hooded, his face expressionless.
After long minutes, which seemed to take an eternity, Shana began to calm. Celeste tipped her sister’s head back to see her face. She gasped at the sight of the bruises covering the left side of Shana’s face from temple to chin. Blood had dried at her hairline. Some cuts still oozed.
Brandon’s fists clenched as he jumped to his feet and left the room. He came back holding a wet washcloth.
Celeste gently cleaned Shana’s face while the girl sat quietly, her eyes dazed.
The cuts were shallow, thankfully, but the bruises were still darkening. As if he’d read her mind yet again, Brandon brought over a bag of ice. He wrapped it in one of the thin towels and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
Pressing it to the side of her sister’s face, Celeste leaned back. Shana sighed, then passed out.
Quietly, Celeste said, “I don’t think she’s going to be answering any questions for a while.”
Brandon stood. “Where do you want to put her?”
“Guest bedroom. She’ll be comfortable there.”
He scooped Shana in his arms and headed for the room. Celeste followed, watching him, her emotions in turmoil. Someone had hurt her sister. She would damn well find out who. And they would pay.
Brandon laid her on the bed, then hovered in the doorway as Celeste tucked her in. She hesitated. “I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“You don’t have to,” he replied. “Tend your sister.”
She grabbed a chair from the wall and slid it to the side of the bed, then sat down, watching Shana sleep.
Brandon stayed leaning against the doorway, Hercules twining around his ankles. “What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know.” She’d asked her sister to stay in for the night. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. If only Shana had listened. “One of the victims from last night was her best friend. I don’t know if she’s mixed up with the cult murderers.”
Silence descended in the room, broken only by Shana’s occasional whimpers. Celeste’s heart ached heavily. She wished she could have done something more to keep her sister home. Handcuffing her to the bed at their mama’s house might have been extreme, but at least then she wouldn’t have suffered like this.
Her throat burned and her eyes blurred. Taking a couple deep breaths, she fought her roiling emotions and drew on her professional ability to focus, repressing the upheaval of her raging feelings. Loss of control wouldn’t help anything, or anyone.
Brandon eased further into the room, drawing her attention.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said quietly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied.
Her chest filled with warmth. She glanced at him, his gaze trapping her own.
***
Brandon stared at her, confused. They’d made love, and he’d felt connected to her on a level so deep it was frightening. Yet, he didn’t want to run away.
Watching her tend to her sister, he felt so many things that should have made him want to flee as well.
Yet here he was, entranced by this woman who could be a tough-as-nails cop, as well as soft and almost... motherly for her sister.
Family, to him, was life. The most important thing to live for. He remembered sitting at his brother’s bedside, the same as she watched over the girl now.
And it struck him deep in his gut how perfect this woman was, how alike they were inside. Protectors of the weak, of those in need.
A phone rang from Celeste’s bedroom and her chin jerked up. Brandon headed down the hall. He picked up the phone, recognizing the number.
Answering, he asked, “Shane?”
“Yeah.”
“Just a minute.” Brandon moved to the guest bedroom and glanced at Celeste. “It’s for me.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little. “I was afraid there’d been another murder.”
In the living room, Brandon paced as he listened to Shane describe what he’d found at the warehouse.
“The place was saturated with magic. Filled with traps. I don’t know how the two of you made it out.”
Brandon shook his head. “It wasn’t easy.”
“I suppose not. It’s taken care of now, but that only means they’ll move to another location. I don’t even think this was their main place for rituals. This city is so big, there’s no telling where they are,” Shane grumbled.
“Damn. They didn’t leave any clues?”
“Not a one.” Shane hesitated, then added, “I’ve got to warn you, this magic is powerful. And strange. I’ve never seen the likes of it before. It’s not a demon, but whoever it is has nearly the power of one. It was mixed, as if they can steal the magic of other Arcaine creatures.”
Brandon inhaled sharply, his mind flashing to the past, and the sorceress who’d held him prisoner. He swallowed. “So it truly is sorcery?”
“Most likely.”
The edges of his sight dimmed as his heartbeat raced. Memories tried to drag him down. He clenched his jaw, refusing them.
“I can hunt them, but it’ll take time to gather everything I need to perform the ceremony,” Shane went on.
“How much time?”
“Depends on how fast I can find everything I need.”
Screams came from the bedroom down the hall. “Start looking. I’ll call you back later,” Brandon said. He hung up, rushing to the guest room.
Inside, Shana was curled in the corner of the room. Celeste knelt by her, trying to calm the girl.
“You’re safe, pequina. It’s me, Celeste.”
Shana shuddered, jerking as if trying to crawl deeper into the corner. Celeste reached for her, and the girl came up swinging.
Brandon flashed forward, moving between them. Nails raked down his upper arm and he hissed at the stinging scratches. Grabbing Shana in his arms, he motioned Celeste to the bed.
He gripped the struggling girl. She was a wildcat, fighting as if her life was in jeopardy.
Celeste grabbed her wrists, holding them as she whispered words of comfort.
Finally, the girl began to calm. She looked around the room as if seeing where she was for the first time.
“Celeste?”
“I’m here.”
Her gaze froze on Brandon. “Who’s he?”
“My new partner.”
“But you always say you work better alone.”
“This case is different.” She smoothed a lock of hair back from the girl’s face. “Tell me what happened.”
A dark shadow flitted over Shana’s face and she closed her eyes, curling up again. Celeste continued to stroke the girl’s hair, waiting silently, but her pain and frustration were clear.
Shana opened her eyes and stared at Celeste. “You won’t believe me,” she said pitifully.
Shaking her head, Celeste replied, “After the last few days, I’m ready to believe anything.”
***
Celeste watched her sister closely, searching for any hint of reoccurring panic in the tense lines of her body.
Shana shook her head. “Not this. You won’t.”
“Try me.” Celeste took one of Shana’s hands between her own.
With a sigh, her shoulders bowing in defeat, Shana mumbled, “There’s things out there you’d only think belonged in fiction.”
“I know. I’ve seen them.”
Her sister jerked, meeting Celeste’s gaze. “Really?”
“I told you the last few days have been strange.”
Shana sat up straighter.
Celeste tightened her grip. “Tell me what happened.”
“I...”
Trying to wait patiently, Celeste bit her tongue to keep from pressing too hard. Near the door, Brandon was stillness itself, as if he had all the ti
me in the world. But his eyes flickered with the same impatience she felt.
“You know that guy I told you about?”
“The one whose name you didn’t know?”
Shana’s lips tightened. “Yeah. My freebie.”
Biting her tongue harder, Celeste finally said, “What about him?”
“I lied. I do know him. We met at the club Black Dawn a few weeks ago. Donna had been hanging out there for a while, and she took me there. I met Jess, and we’ve been getting it on since then.”
“What’s Jess’ last name?”
“I don’t know. He never said.”
“So you’ve been dating him--”
Shana sneered. “Not dating. We’ve been fucking like rabbits.”
Celeste took a deep breath, trying to calm her growing anger and censure. She needed information rather than an argument.
Brandon stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at Shana as if she were some species he’d never before seen.
Celeste asked, “So what happened last night?”
Shana’s sneer disappeared as she realized Celeste wasn’t going to rise to the bait. With a shrug, she said, “Last night he said he had something really cool to show me. Rather than go to the club, or his house, he took me to this deserted building. I thought it was gonna be a rave, or something.”
“Where was it?” Celeste asked, itching for her notebook.
“Dunno. I wasn’t paying attention. Besides, I’d already had a few drinks.”
“You don’t have any idea where it was?”
“No.”
“Anything on the building itself that might help me find it?”
Shana pulled her hand away. “I told you. No.”
Celeste watched her sister, knowing she wasn’t getting the whole truth. “Fine. What happened then?”
“We went into this creepy basement. There were candles all over the place, and people standing around the edges of the room.” Her eyes unfocused as if she was back there. “Everyone wore these black Goth hooded cloaks. You could barely see how many were hiding in the shadows.”