With this most recent assassin dead, there was no one to take the brunt of his fury. It swirled around him like a whirlwind, threatening to blow him apart. He sucked in a deep breath and tried to release it.
Losing Jo would be worse than death.
He wanted to take her to bed and love her until she screamed his name. But she needed comfort now, not hot, unbridled sex. It was up to him to calm down enough to be able to give it to her.
By the time he’d shoved his fury into the darkest hole in his mind and pulled himself together, the shower had come on.
After locking the apartment down, Asher headed down the hall.
…
Jo pressed her hands against the tile and leaned under the hot spray. You’ve been alone before after you’ve dispatched a vamp. That was the norm. How she’d lived and worked for years.
Only this time, it wasn’t what she wanted.
Asher was off doing whatever it was he was doing. Hadn’t she proven she was capable of taking care of herself? Yeah, she’d handled the situation tonight.
She tilted her head back, letting the water spill over her face to cover the two or three tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes.
God, she was tired of it all. The killing never seemed to end. The aloneness threatened to consume her until there was nothing left.
Her exhaustion wasn’t just of the body but of the spirit.
Being a pawn in a supernatural game could only end one way—her death.
Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually they would make some mistake, like the one tonight. Or maybe whoever was behind this would hire more competent assassins.
Money made even normally sane people do crazy things.
Out of the billions of people on the planet, she was one lone woman. Why should her life matter?
A slight but cool breeze brushed over her skin. If she ignored him, maybe he’d go away. She needed some time to herself to process everything. Life had been much more straightforward before she’d met Asher, her priorities clear—hunt and kill vampires. He’d changed all of that. Messed with her worldview. Worse, he’d broken through the ice around her heart and made her start caring again.
“You always shower with a weapon?” Still fully dressed, he leaned against the wall, just outside the shower. He tilted his head toward the knife resting on the ledge beside the soap.
“Call it an occupational precaution.” She rubbed the soap between her hands to build a lather. That was better than throwing herself at him.
He was as handsome as ever with his model-worthy face and shoulder-length blond hair. But his expression was unreadable. There was a coldness, a distance about him that made her shiver. Asher was a man of many moods—deadly one moment and playful lover the next. It was hard to get a read on him.
“I think it’s time for me to leave.” It wouldn’t take her long to toss her belongings in her bag. She faced the spray, letting it wash away her doubts and fears.
It was stupid to leave the safety of his home, but she was sick and tired of being used to hurt him. Caring about someone meant making the hard decisions. There would be more attacks, more assassins coming for her.
Hard fingers gripped her arm and spun her around. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Anger flashed in his eyes, giving them a reddish glow. His lips were peeled back to expose sharp incisors.
Her mind flashed back to the attack at the pizza place. She saw the fangs and reacted. The knife was in her hand and she slashed.
He jumped out of the way and manacled her wrist in his hand. “What the hell?” They were both panting hard. He stared at her in disbelief. “Did you just try to gut me?”
God, she was losing it. What is wrong with me? She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Not easy when she was naked and vulnerable in the shower and her knees were trembling.
“Reflex when a vamp flashes his fangs at me.”
“You can’t honestly think—” His fingers opened one at a time and he released her.
“It was a reaction, all right?” Shame ate at her. She hated the lump in the pit of her stomach. She tossed the knife back onto the shelf and wiped her hand over her mouth, but the bad taste of guilt lingered. “I won’t apologize.” Those instincts had been honed to a fine edge from years of hunts. They’d kept her alive.
“Fine.” He ripped his shirt open and tossed the shredded material onto the floor. “If it will make you feel better, go for it.” Shackling her wrist once more, he placed the blade in her hand and raised it. She resisted, but it was futile. He kept moving the tip forward until it was pressed against his heart.
She fought with all her strength. While his grip never tightened, there was no getting free.
Then he leaned in until the knife pierced his flesh. A trickle of blood rolled down his chest.
“Stop it!”
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“No. It was reflex.”
“Are you sure?” Like something from her nightmares, he loomed over her. A muscle under his eye twitched and his jaw was taut. The knife sank deeper. The flow of blood quickened.
Yelling in frustration, she brought her knee up fast and hard. Asher jumped back rather than get nailed in the balls. She yanked her arm out of his iron grip.
The wound healed before her eyes, bloodstains on his flesh and pants the only sign of their altercation.
Damn him for doing that. She threw the knife to the floor and backed away from him. “Why?”
“Jo.”
“No.” She didn’t want any explanation, excuses, or lies or whatever else he had to say. Her hands shook, and she was sick to her stomach, her insides churning with upset and fear.
“I’m sorry. I know all of this has been difficult for you.”
She blinked water out of her eyes. “You’re sorry? I am, too. Sorry you were ever dragged into my life. Sorry I was ever dragged into this mess.” She didn’t regret meeting him but kept that to herself. It was time to put some distance between them.
When had everything gone so wrong? A profound sadness echoed inside her.
“You’re not leaving.” He folded his arms over his chest, practically daring her to disagree.
“I can’t stay.” It was too dangerous to her heart. The fragile organ had decided he was it for her. Complicated, maddening, sexy, and dangerous—Asher was hers.
A low growl rose from deep in his chest. “I won’t let you leave.”
“You’re not responsible for me,” she shot back. “I’ve been on my own a long time. Hell, I took care of myself this evening.” Before she could stop herself, she added, “I don’t need you.”
He threw back his head and roared—his features contorted in pain. The glass in the mirror over the sink cracked, splitting from end to end. Panting hard, his face a mask of pain, he lowered his chin. “I failed you tonight.”
Was that what his remoteness was all about? “That wasn’t your fault. You had no idea someone would come after me in the bathroom.”
“You’re mine.”
Her heart gave a little jump at the hard, possessive tone. “Asher?”
She wasn’t sure who moved first, but she was in his arms. His mouth slammed down on hers, their lips melding until all the air was sucked from her lungs.
“You could have died.” Water poured down from the showerhead, soaking his pants. Hands clasping the sides of her face, he placed frantic kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
“I didn’t.” She dug her nails into his back, gasping for air when he dragged his teeth over her shoulder.
“You can’t. Not ever.”
“Asher.” That was impossible and they both knew it.
“No. I’m done talking.” He lifted her into his arms with her back against the tiled wall. His lips slanted across hers. He nibbled on the bottom one and th
en plunged deep, exploring, tasting, claiming.
This was all she needed. His hands on her. His mouth on hers. Tomorrow would come, but until then, they were together.
Need flooded through her. She was overheated, as though running a fever. Even the cooling water was welcome. Her skin was hot, sensitive to each touch. Every stroke of his fingers magnified a hundred-fold.
This was no gentle lover but a man demanding a response from his mate. She responded to the primitive call.
Was this what she’d hoped for when she’d picked a fight?
The wildness inside her broke free. She dragged her nails over his back and down to his butt, managing to shove her hands beneath the waistband of his pants. Groaning, he lifted her higher and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.
“Take them off.” She dragged at his pants, trying to get to him. He snarled and ripped the offending clothing away, never losing contact with her. Lifting her higher, he flicked his tongue over the tip of her breast.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she tightened her legs around him.
“Now,” she demanded. Fury and fear had morphed into something more basic and primal. She was empty inside, needed something other than fear and loneliness to fill her.
I need him.
It was both terrifying and exhilarating. He made her weak. But they seemed to share the same problem, putting them on equal footing.
He held her easily with one arm and positioned the head of his shaft against her slick opening. “Look at me,” he ordered. “See me.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair. It looked darker when wet. “I do. I see you.” Was blind to all else in this moment.
He drove home.
“Yes.” He filled her, leaving no room for monsters to hide. “More.” His erection stretched her sheath as he pushed even deeper. “So good.” She ran her hands over his chest and biceps, loving the play of his muscles.
“Hold on.” His voice was raspy and low.
She clung to him as he powered in and out, hitting all the right spots, knowing just how hard and fast to push to make her crazy. The man paid attention when they made love.
Her inner muscles clamped down hard. There was no slow build-up, no warning. Her orgasm slammed into her, shooting her into the heavens. Her thighs tightened around his, and she buried her face in his neck. Stars exploded. Or maybe she did. She feared the pieces of herself were scattered, never to be reassembled again, at least not as they once were.
A guttural moan was pulled from the very depths of him, a sound of both acute pleasure and pain.
“Let me taste you.”
“What?” Still in an orgasmic haze, she didn’t understand what he was asking.
“Just a tiny sip.” When she tensed, he pressed his lips to her temple. “It won’t change you,” he promised.
The thought terrified her, even as her entire body shuddered with desire. Did she really want this? Could she even do it?
“Then you’ll drink from me,” he continued. “Just a sip. The echo of my blood in you will call to me. I’ll always be able to find you.” He pushed her hair out of her face, his expression one of hope and resignation. “Please.”
This powerful man, this immortal vampire could take whatever he wanted, but he was asking—no, begging her.
“Why is it so important?” The glow from their lovemaking was fading, the cold water from the shower chilling. When she shivered, he slowly released her, reached behind him, and turned off the taps.
The silence was deafening.
Without a word, he got a towel and dried her before using his super speed to do the same to himself. Leaving their clothing on the floor and the knife still in the corner of the shower, he lifted her into his arms and took her to bed.
The silence extended even when they were tucked under the covers. Should she say something? Shrouded in uncertainty, she held her tongue.
“I love you.” His voice was hoarse, as though the words were ripped from his soul.
“What?” She tried to bolt upright but was unable to with his arm cradling her against his chest. He couldn’t love her, could he? She was no one special. Panic warred with hope.
“There is no other for me,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “I will protect you to my last breath. I couldn’t save my family. I will not lose you.”
As a vow, it was huge.
She swallowed heavily. “Asher, I—”
He pressed two fingers against her lips. “You do not have to say anything in return. I know you don’t always trust me or what I am.”
His smile was forced, the distress beneath it very real. He’d opened himself up to her. Could she do the same?
He’s braver than I am.
That didn’t sit well with her. But she didn’t respond right away. This was too important not to give it the consideration it deserved. When she tried to sit up this time, he let her.
For better or worse, this was her man. Her mind might have doubts, but her heart was all in.
She tilted her head to one side, offering her neck. “Do it.”
…
He’d battled creatures of darkness and nightmare for thousands upon thousands of years. Done it without fear.
Now his heart quivered as he laid himself bare.
As much as he longed to hear her return his vow of love, he wouldn’t let her speak, worried she’d feel pressured to return the sentiment without truly meaning it. Beneath the tough exterior of a seasoned hunter lurked a kind and tender heart.
Worse would be if she didn’t love him back and tried to let him down gently.
Pulling on years of experience, he had himself under control when she started to sit up. Her bicolored eyes were solemn. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses. He’d been rough, but she hadn’t objected. Had met him as an equal. As a lover.
When she tilted her head to one side, he was drawn to the blood pulsing just beneath her milky white skin. Her hair was so short there was nothing to cover the slope of her shoulder.
He swallowed heavily and kept his mouth shut, not wanting her to see his fangs. His mouth salivated for just one sip, one drop of her blood. He bit back a moan.
“Do it.”
“What?” It was impossible to comprehend anything over the craving clawing at him. Was she saying what he thought, or was it nothing more than wishful thinking?
“Take my blood. Just a sip,” she added. She nibbled on her bottom lip, unsure but trying to be brave. The love in his heart expanded until it occupied his entire being.
“You don’t have to do this.” That he’d even ask it of her after everything she’d been through shamed him. As much as he coveted a taste of her, he had to offer her an out.
She’d been ready to run. He’d seen the panic in her eyes, the bleak acceptance of her fate. Jo was the strongest woman he’d ever known, but today’s events had pushed her to the breaking point. Now he was asking even more from her. Her courage humbled him.
If he was a better man, he’d walk away. But the creature he’d become would sell his soul to make her his in every way.
He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. The scent of her fear burned his nostrils. That she was offering, even while afraid, meant everything. “Jo,” he began.
I have to leave.
“I trust you.” Those three simple words sealed her fate. They were as good as “I love you.” Maybe better. Because her trust was not something she gave lightly.
“Jo.” He had no words. Was this some kind of sacrifice to prove herself?
She shifted on the bed, fisting the covers in her hands so hard her knuckles were white. “Just do it.”
Waiting would only increase her nervousness. As gently as he could, he sank his sharp teeth into her flesh. Her blood, sweet and pure, flowed into his mouth.
> The richest honey, even the ambrosia of the gods, could not compare to the taste of his Jo. The urge to gorge, to drown himself in her essence, was strong. But overriding even bloodlust was the necessity to not betray her trust.
He carefully eased away and licked the puncture wounds. The small amount of blood should have done nothing for him, but it soaked into every cell of his body until there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t contain some part of her.
Her eyes were wide, the green and brown colors richer, deeper. Her bottom lip seemed almost swollen. Had she bitten it? “That it?”
“Almost.” He dragged an elongated fingernail over his flesh just above his heart. “Drink from me. Just a sip,” he encouraged when she hesitated.
Squaring her shoulders as though going into battle, she dragged her tongue over the blood that had pooled from the small cut. As soon as she swallowed, the connection snapped into place with the force of a titanium shackle closing around them.
She gasped, her fingers clutching her throat. “What’s happening?” There was no accusation in her tone, only a question.
“That is the bond.” He ran his hand over her hair before cupping the back of her head and drawing her to him. “I will always be able to find you now.”
She placed her hand against her chest. “I can feel you here. Is it always like this?”
Asher shrugged. “I have no idea. I have never given my blood to another.”
“Never?”
He’d surprised and pleased her. “I never wanted to before. Never will again.” He brushed his mouth against hers, tasting his blood on her lips.
Only she carried a part of him inside her.
An echo of dark foreboding swept through him, threatening to steal his joy. A forewarning? It disappeared as fast as it had come, leaving him uneasy. Fate wasn’t through with them yet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“This is a mistake.” Asher’s scowl deepened. They’d spent the past fifteen minutes arguing about the text message he’d received from Bernard.
“He says he has information. It’s been two days since the last vamp attack. We need some kind of break. Bernard has a lot of children.” It was still weird to think of it that way. “Maybe one of them stumbled across something. Or maybe they were contacted by whoever is behind all this. You have to admit, it’s possible.” And they needed something to break this impasse.
Burning Ash (Forgotten Brotherhood) Page 23