The Redeeming

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The Redeeming Page 21

by Jennifer Ashley


  “I might not have a choice,” Samantha said. “My father wants to put my name forward to take the matriarch’s place.”

  Tain’s brows twitched together. “It’s gone that far already?”

  Samantha shrugged. “Apparently the matriarch was my great-great aunt, and my father has enough power to tell our family who to back as the next one.”

  Tain went silent a moment, then he said, “I think it’s a good idea.”

  Samantha pulled away in surprise. “Are you kidding me? Me, become the clan matriarch? I’m not even full demon, as you just pointed out.”

  Tain regarded her in all seriousness, tucking his hands behind his head again. “But you know this world very well, and your police training has honed your fighting skills. You are stronger than most humans, but you understand humans and don’t despise them.”

  “You’re as bad as my father. I’m twenty-seven—the matriarch was about a thousand. Much more experienced than me, wouldn’t you say?”

  “She didn’t start when she was a thousand. I think you could be very good at it.”

  Samantha flopped down beside him on the bed, landing against the comfort of his body. “If I became the matriarch, I’d be absorbed into the clan, married to it and its politics. I’d wear business suits and have a majordomo and attend meetings. Anything left of me will be gone. Hell, if the last matriarch even had a name, I didn’t know it.”

  “It was Naoma.”

  “How did you know that?” Samantha asked in a sharp voice, remembering the record Septimus’s vamp had made of Tain at the matriarch’s house.

  “I saw it on the majordomo’s desk, while you were interviewing her upstairs.”

  “You went through her desk?”

  Tain shrugged, his strong shoulder brushing hers. “Perhaps I did.”

  Samantha knew she should admonish him, but some things were more important. “What else did you find?”

  “That the matriarch had many appointments, but with the same people or businesses again and again. No one new or different for that day, no appointments for the time she died.”

  Samantha raked her hair back from her face. Tain’s eyes had gone enigmatic again, and she had the feeling he wasn’t telling her everything. One more mystery to worry about. “This case is driving me crazy. It’s all about powerful women—the matriarch on one hand, Ms. Townsend of No More Nightmares on the other. Plus their staunch defenders, Ariadne the majordomo, and Melanie the guard-dog assistant.”

  Tain rumbled, “Against Samantha and her Immortal guardian.”

  She didn’t smile. “I’m hardly a player in this game. Those women know what’s going on, and I’m swimming around trying to figure everything out.”

  Tain touched her hair. “You are better than you know.”

  Samantha let out an exasperated sigh. “I suppose if I did become the matriarch, I’d find out who’s out there killing demons, because those killers would come after me. Of course, I probably wouldn’t know until too late whether it was demon-hunters, rival clan members, or demons from my own clan—I bet all three would try.”

  Tain’s voice took on a stern note. “I’ll not let you use yourself as bait.”

  “Why not? I’m used to it. I’ve done more than one assignment which called for me in a strapless dress and stilt-heels, where I waited to be hit on, offered drugs, or killed. Like at Merrick’s club.”

  “You looked beautiful.” Tain’s purr slid over her. “I had trouble concentrating on what I’d come to do. That’s why I told you to stay away from me.”

  “Because I’m demon?”

  Another caress to her hair, his voice softening. “I was afraid my attraction to you was a perverse need to be with a demon, that my madness hadn’t truly gone away.”

  “What changed your mind?” she asked in a light voice. “Or have you?”

  “It wasn’t a demon in my dreams,” Tain said. “It was you.”

  Samantha stared down at him, stunned, her heart pounding until she couldn’t think. He could melt her, keep her here, not let her leave. Samantha would eagerly stay, for the chance to hear those words his low, rumbling voice.

  “I’m still technically at work.” She faltered, her declaration not as adamant as she’d have liked. “See? I have my gun.” She patted her holster under her blazer.

  “I have my swords.” Tain indicated the naked blades resting against the nightstand. “I like weapons.”

  “For defense.”

  “For defense. Another reason you’d make a good matriarch. You think of defense rather than attack. You think like a protector.”

  His low, velvet tones were wearing down her own defenses. “The word matriarch sounds so old.”

  “It’s a term of respect. But you can be a modern matriarch—call yourself a clan leader if that makes you feel better.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  Tain lifted Samantha’s hand and kissed her palm. Instead of answering, he said, “You need to take some life magic from me.”

  She tried a smile. “Because I won’t be so crabby if I do?”

  “Because I want you to.” Tain kissed her palm again, then caught her gaze as he pressed her hand to his cheek, right over his tattoo.

  The warmth of his body came to her, and this time the tattoo seemed to burn into her hand. The flow of his life essence seared stronger than before, or perhaps Samantha was simply more needy. She gasped with it, a spark filling her fingers and flowing into and through her body.

  Tain slid the sheet out from between them, and her fingers found his warm skin, taut over muscle. Samantha slid her arm around him as they lay on their sides, face to face, and she stroked down his spine, fingers lingering on the hollow at the small of his back.

  Tain dipped his head and licked her neck as lovingly as a vampire might. Only Samantha was the vampire-like one now, drinking in the ecstasy of his life essence.

  The demon in her rejoiced. Half-human Samantha was still wary of the process, but the beast inside her hungered for what Tain was giving her.

  “Mine,” she whispered. “You are mine.”

  She understood now why demons like Merrick wanted to possess their marks—they wanted to have this at their beck and call any time they needed it. Samantha trailed her fingers through the silky ends of Tain’s short hair and then down to the firm tightness of his buttocks.

  This gloriously strong and naked male belonged to her and her alone. Samantha laughed with the joy of it, tilting her head back so Tain could nibble on her throat.

  His erection pressed into her thigh through her slacks, moving as though he enjoyed the friction of the cloth. She nudged him to lie flat on his back, and he obeyed, his blue eyes half closing in pleasure.

  Samantha got on her knees next to him, her hand still firmly connected with his cheek. With the other hand she traced patterns on his chest, brushing the hard points of his nipples, traveling along the ridges of his abdomen.

  The indentation of his navel greeted Samantha’s questing fingers. She found the warm hair above his penis, then the thick heat of the shaft itself.

  Tain made a quiet noise of pleasure as she clasped him. He pressed his hips slightly upward, Samantha’s hand closing all the way around him.

  “Beautiful woman,” he murmured.

  The sensations rushing through Samantha were too heady for words, so she only smiled, while Tain lifted against her hand. He touched her fingers where they rested on his cheek, his eyes warming as though her taking his essence gave him more pleasure even than her hand squeezing his cock.

  He belonged to her, this elusive, taciturn warrior who came and went as he pleased. Tain’s body was laid out for her, his skin damp with sweat from what she was doing to him.

  Samantha continued stroking him, his shaft slick with sweat from her palm. She loved the heaviness of his cock, the satin-soft tip and the thick velvet of the shaft itself. He was so large Samantha could barely fit her hand all the way around him, the wide knob sliding between her fi
ngers.

  Tain closed his eyes and laid his head back, a half-smile on his face, his hand resting on her wrist. He was letting her play, letting her enjoy herself. He rocked his hips, but gently, as though he held himself back from full thrusts.

  Tain’s body tightened as she went on, his breath coming faster. Samantha liked that he contained his strength for her, liked imagining what it would be like if he didn’t.

  She kneaded and stroked him, twisting her hand around his shaft until he moaned with it. Samantha felt the buildup in him, his buttocks tightening as he rose through her hand.

  Then he dragged her down to him in rock-hard arms and kissed her deeply, his body moving against hers in the joy of the moment.

  “Keep taking me, love,” he breathed. “That’s it.”

  Tain’s essence flowed into her, and he closed his eyes, a half smile on his face. Samantha kissed his throat, her body limp and warm against in his, her hand still moving on his penis.

  She wondered if he’d wait for her here while she went back to work, if she would return to find him stretched out naked on the bed, smiling his sultry smile for her. A vision flashed through her mind of his thick wrists enclosed in manacles, his arms over his head, the manacles fastened to the headboard. Her captive, smiling when she returned for him, his arousal rising swiftly when he saw her.

  Command him, the demon in her whispered. He will obey.

  The need rushed up in Samantha so fiercely she gasped and tried to yank away from his tattoo. Tain clamped his hand around her wrist, keeping her palm on his cheek, his life essence pouring into her. Her palm burned with it, the tattoo searing her flesh.

  “Stop,” she said, her breathing ragged. “You have to stop.”

  Tain’s eyes were closed, his mouth pressed in ecstasy. Samantha lost hold of his shaft, the blunt knob knocking her fingers. She tried to pry her hand from his cheek, but Tain was ten times stronger than she was, and Samantha couldn’t get free.

  His essence was white light burning her from the inside out. The demon in her snarled, and the human in her cried out in pain.

  “Tain, please stop! I can’t take it.”

  Tain didn’t respond.

  Samantha sobbed. “Please.”

  Tain’s eyes snapped open. He stared at Samantha as though he’d forgotten her there, then he yanked her hand from his cheek and shoved her away.

  Samantha sat up, wincing when her palm contacted the sheets. Her skin bore a bright red burn, the exact imprint of his pentacle tattoo.

  “Samantha.” Tain’s eyes were wide with concern. He reached for her.

  Samantha rolled off the bed to her feet, cradling her hurt hand. “I have to go.”

  He stood up, seven feet of naked male in front of her. “Let me see.”

  Samantha slowly held out her hand. He took it and kissed her palm, lips caressing. His healing magic sank into her, erasing the pain, and when he released her, the mark was gone.

  “I have to go,” Samantha repeated, closing her hand.

  The remorse in Tain’s eyes cut her to the heart. “Goddess, Samantha, I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have just . . .” Trusted him, her cynical side finished.

  Tain scraped his hand through his short hair. “I told you in the beginning you should stay away from me. This is why.”

  Samantha’s heart ached, tears burning her eyes. “It’s too late for that, don’t you think?”

  He was still mostly erect, his body tight with need. “I thought I could go slowly. I thought I could teach you—I thought I could control it. Gods damn my arrogance.”

  The dark horror in Tain’s eyes worried her. Samantha pointed a shaking finger at him. “Don’t you dare disappear again, because you think it’s better for me. Don’t you dare leave me to get through this alone.”

  Emotions flicked through Tain’s eyes, none of them easy to read. He stood looking down at her, stricken, making no move to touch her or to stop her.

  “I’ll come back,” Samantha said. “After work, I’ll come back, and we’ll talk. You’ll be here, right?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to come back here. You need to go to the Malibu house.”

  “Wherever it is, we need to talk—privately.”

  Tain swallowed, his body tense, and he nodded.

  Samantha let out her breath and made herself turn away. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, squared her shoulders, and walked out of the bedroom.

  At the front door, she felt him behind her, his large hands on her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her hair, his lips warm and gentle. She sensed the power in his hands, his shaking as he deliberately held himself in check.

  Without looking at him Samantha unlocked and opened the door, and walked out of the apartment. Behind her she heard the door very faintly close, and the lock click into place.

  After Samantha had gone, Tain dressed, went into the living room, placed his votive candles in a circle, lit them with a tiny brush of magic, and tried to meditate. But his heart was beating too hard, his thoughts too jumbled for any kind of peace.

  He was a fool for thinking he could have something real with Samantha. She’d been right that letting her drink of his life essence would become too heady for him to resist—today when she’d naturally slowed the taking, he’d sped it up, unable to stop himself, wanting her to take from him.

  Tain had lost all perspective on how to be human and gentle. Kehksut had been hideously strong, liking to receive pain as much giving it. Tain had grown used to not holding back his strength—in fact, he’d pretty much forgotten how. Since coming to Los Angeles, he’d run into situation after situation where he’d had to stop himself hurting others.

  Giving his essence to Samantha was supposed to mitigate the terrible things Tain had done in the past. And now he’d hurt her as well.

  Cerridwen, help her, he sent silently.

  She needs you, came the whispered answer, and Tain slid into dreams.

  He was in a faraway land of long ago that smelled of peat fires, damp, and cold. Tain was seventeen years old, strong and skilled, and he wanted to be a soldier like his father. All his life he’d wanted to wear Roman armor and march with the soldiers back from Britain to the greatest city in the world, conquering territories as they went.

  Rome was a fabulous city, so the legionnaires from the nearby garrison had told him, full of riches from places far across desert sands. In Rome a person could find olives from Spain, fish from the Mediterranean, silks and spices from the East, gold from Egypt. Tain had spent his childhood dreaming of the day he could leave the farm he tended with his father to seek the warm climes of Rome and the blue, blue waters of the southern seas.

  His father had trained Tain to use swords, having retired from the army to a farm in Britain where he raised his son. Tain’s father had saved money for years to have the local armorer make two bronze blades for Tain, and then Tain had taken lessons from his father in how to use them. As a boy, he’d run off every chance he could to the woods to fight battles against soldiers who didn’t exist and ghosts of his imagination. As a young man, he still retreated there to practice.

  One night in his seventeenth year, he’d come across a real vampire, an encounter that changed his life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tain had known the woman was evil as soon as he looked at her. She’d dressed in an exotic silk gown and had twisted ropes of jewels through her braided dark hair. She was breathlessly beautiful. But Tain sensed her aura like black ooze, tainting her and canceling out her beauty.

  This female vamp had come to the soldiers weeks ago as a camp follower and had killed several men before escaping into the wilds. The vampire had been waiting for Tain in the woods, probably smelling his blood, where Tain took his swords to practice every day as soon as his chores were done.

  “Thanks be to Minerva,” the vampire said when Tain approached her. “You have come to save me.”

&
nbsp; Tain rested the blade of one of his swords across his shoulder. “Have I?”

  “You’re a clever young man and can get me back to camp,” she said in perfect imitation of a distressed young woman. “I’m the wife of one of the officers there.”

  “No, you aren’t,” Tain said. “You are the woman who killed some of my friends.”

  The vampire dropped her pretense. “You’re an intelligent one, aren’t you? I thought you a mere pig farmer, but I see I was wrong.”

  The vampire woman came closer, the stench of darkness that clung to her sharp. She was truly beautiful—no dirt or mud marred her lovely skin, her hair was gleaming and soft, and the jewels she wore glinted in the moonlight. Tain had no doubt the jewels were real, nor any doubt she would kill any man who tried to take them from her.

  “You want my blood,” Tain said. He held out a muscular arm. “Why don’t you take it?”

  The woman’s dark eyes flickered, uncertain, and she took a quick step back. “You stink of life magic. Why would you let me drink from you?”

  “Because you’re hungry. How long has it been?”

  Her sultry look vanished. “Ten days.”

  “I can let you drink if you don’t drain me. Do you promise?”

  The vampire woman stared at him in astonishment. “You would make this bargain with me?”

  She’d killed soldiers, and she was strong, but Tain saw the illness in her, her aura torn and tainted. Ever since Tain had accidentally hurt his father and discovered his healing ability, his instinct to use that healing power was strong. There was something wrong with this vampire, and the young Tain thought that, if he could help her, he could train her to spare others.

  “How long ago were you turned?” he asked.

  She gave him a startled look, then whispered, “Six months.”

  “Against your will.”

  “Yes.” Tears flowed from her red-rimmed eyes, and he saw her horror at what she’d become.

  “You can take blood without killing if you do it a little at a time. I will show you, but you cannot kill any more soldiers.”

 

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