His shoulders tensed at her approach. He sat the glass on the on the counter, but his fingers remained curled around it. He turned his head slightly and took a breath. She noticed his eyes were darker than usual.
“This is beautiful artwork. What's the story behind it?” She touched his shoulder and traced the top of the left wing. Though dark ink covered the majority of his, it was also criss-crossed with scars beneath it. The ink covered them, but she could feel them beneath the dark tattoo. He flinched as if her fingers burned his skin.
She backed away and touched her throat, suddenly unsure of what to say or do.
“Evan came by earlier. He hung some clothes in the spare closet and brought your laptop.” Nervous in his continued silence, she grasped for something else to say. “He had a black eye and it looked like someone tried to bite him. I wasn’t going to say anything, but I like him, and since he’s your friend, I thought you should know.”
Why didn’t Marcus say anything? Had she done something to piss him off already? Maybe he was angry that Evan was hurt in his absence.
“Um, I need to go to work. If you could move your car, I’d appreciate it. Or if you don’t mind I’ll just move it myself.”
Marcus drew in a ragged breath.
“I’m just kidding. About your car, I mean.” Crap, she was rambling like an idiot. His shoulder muscles flexed, and she marveled at how the wings seem to spread.
“Go away.” His voice sounded more like a growl.
“You go away. In case you forgot, this is my house.”
The knuckles of his right hand tightened and the glass creaked beneath his fingers. Okay, maybe she did talk too much. She didn’t know why exactly, but his silence made her even more uneasy.
“I just woke up, so I haven’t had time to piss you off yet. Let’s just start this over, okay?”
The glass creaked again.
“Are you okay?” She started to touch him again and then thought better of it. “Marcus?”
The glass shattered in his hand. Red droplets splattered all over the curtain and counter. He turned with startling speed and moved toward the living room.
Emily waited two heartbeats then followed. “I realize you don’t want to be here anymore than I want you here. I get that, so we should try to be civil, right?”
He turned to advance toward her, a predatory look in his dark eyes.
“Crap!” She darted back into the kitchen.
“Don’t run. It’s not good to run away from me.” He backed her against the center island. His hands weren’t on her yet. Instead, they rested on the smooth countertop on either side of her. The tip of his nose pressed against the underside of her jaw. “You smell so good when you’re scared. I feel your heart thundering, hear your blood pumping. I can almost taste it.”
Marcus traced the curve of her jaw with his tongue, leaving a warm, wet trail. His mouth captured hers. He was gentle. His kisses were explorative at first, but as the kiss deepened, it grew more demanding.
Even though it was wrong, she couldn't break away. She didn’t want to.
Marcus devoured her mouth and pressed himself full-on against her. He wanted her. The evidence pressed against her hip. His knee nudged its way between her thighs, spreading her legs.
She placed both hands on his chest, intending to push him away, but instead she marveled at the smooth, cool skin. She searched his eyes, but all she saw there was hot, hungry intent. “Marcus, I…”
He claimed her mouth again, effectively shutting her up. His fingers were at her waist, dipping below the thin material of her shorts. His fingers found her, and her body trembled. Pleasure rolled over her, and she moaned against his mouth.
Marcus growled something, but his words got lost in another knee buckling kiss. The hand between her legs traced the seam of her sex then brushed against the aroused bud of flesh. Emily gasped against his mouth. She couldn’t believe she was letting him do this.
“Marcus…”
He slipped a finger inside. Emily’s back arched and her fingers clutched at his shoulders. Marcus thrust his finger slowly as he smashed his mouth against hers. She tasted blood on her tongue but didn’t care.
The warmth between her legs melted into an inferno as he slipped another finger into her. His thumb brushed against her clit with each thrust and her legs almost buckled as climax neared.
Marcus had other ideas. His free hand cupped her buttocks and tickled the back of her thigh. He lifted her leg to his waist then slid his hand along the other. Once both were secure around his waist, he sat her on top of the kitchen island. Emily cried out as her source of pleasure was taken away. Her body was positively on fire. She needed this man, right here. Right now.
He ran fingers up her ribcage. Fingertips smoothed across her bra covered flesh then delved beneath the lace. Marcus gently pinched the swollen bud between thumb and forefinger. His head dipped to run his tongue along the exposed globe of her breast.
Emily arched her spine, and a soft moan escaped her. She had never felt passion like this before. She had never wanted another person so much or so fast. Something about Marcus was pure magic, and she wanted to experience it. She pulled him toward her and met his mouth with a hunger of her own.
“Undress for me.” His hands slipped behind her back to unhook the bra. The material loosened, allowing him to cup her bare breasts in his palms.
Emily strove to touch every part of him. She ran her hands across his defined abdomen, the cut of his hips and lower. Her fingers caressed him through the thin cotton, and he shuddered beneath her fingertips.
Marcus growled a curse. He pushed the straps of the bra down her shoulders. The material pooled around her waist, fully exposing her to him. “So beautiful.”
His tongue traced wicked swirls around her exposed breasts. He cupped one perfect globe while his mouth nipped and sucked the other.
Emily’s body pulsed with desire. Lust throbbed between her thighs. She tightened her legs around him and ground herself against his erection. God, she was so turned on right now. He could do just about anything to her, and she’d probably allow it. Her vampire’s name trembled past her lips.
Marcus turned his gaze up to her, eyes dark pools of midnight. The points of his fangs dimpled the tender flesh of her right breast. Blood welled just below the surface. Panic took over, and she shoved him backward. She scooted off the counter and grabbed the discarded tank top. She pulled the shirt back on. “Things are moving way too fast. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go that far.”
He watched her with scary, dark eyes.
“Why don’t I run to town and get you some more blood?”
He grinned, fangs in full view. “I’m more interested in yours.”
She shrieked then darted past him. A piece of glass crunched beneath her heel and sent her stumbling.
Marcus gripped her shoulders, drew her against him and pinned her against the refrigerator. He didn’t seem to notice or care that she pushed against his chest in an effort to escape.
His mouth lingered just inches from her neck. The tips of his teeth grazed her throat, and his breath tickled across her skin. Fangs pinched the delicate area, forcing a low moan from her.
“Please, Marcus.” She struggled to speak over the roaring fear in her head. “Don't do this.”
“Why must you torment me?” His lips tickled her skin.
Emily swallowed hard, afraid to move. Marcus’s desire still pressed against her and her own swirled low in her belly. His fingers deftly unbuttoned her shorts. She was tempted to throw caution to the wind and let him ravage her. But she had no assurances that he wouldn’t bleed her dry.
His hands were on her hips, pushing the denim lower. Next, his fingers hooked her panties. She shuddered against him and held her breath. He hadn’t backed away, and his mouth was still at her throat.
“Marcus?” She was afraid to move or do more than whisper. This was new and unfamiliar territory, and she didn’t know what might set him of
f. Sex she could handle, but the fangs at her throat were terrifying.
He surprised her by drawing back. Doubt surfaced behind his darkened eyes, but he didn't take his gaze from her. In a roughened voice he said, “Walk away, don’t run.”
In a blur of movement, he burst out the back door. Seconds later, he disappeared into the woods.
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.” She dashed across the kitchen floor to snatch up the phone. Who the hell was she supposed to call? Detective Hahm? Scott? Mistress Isabella?
She peeked through the window and searched the darkness for him. Something big crashed through the trees on the other side of the house. The doe she’d spotted a few nights ago burst from the trees. She ran across the yard, but her fawn didn’t follow. Emily had a bad feeling about the fawn’s fate.
Fat tears rolled down Emily’s cheeks, and her throat burned.
A raven swooped down and landed in the yard. The air around the bird shimmered. In the next moment, a gorgeous black woman stood in its place. She was tall with short, curly hair. A tattoo of a black bird rested above her left breast.
The woman moved toward the porch and didn’t bother to cover her nakedness. She spotted Emily through the open window as she climbed the back porch steps. “Are you okay, honey?”
Emily nodded, no longer certain of anything. The jitters overtook her and forced her to grip the cabinet for balance.
“Bless your heart. You look scared to death. I’ll go check on him.” The bird lady hopped off the porch dressed in a loose sundress.
Emily hadn’t even noticed it tucked away amongst the flower pots and mismatched lawn chairs.
Moments later, Marcus emerged from the same group of trees the doe had. Emily’s heart lurched. She shrank away from the window, afraid he would see her. She’d caught a glimpse of him though, and that had been enough. Marcus’s chin, throat, and chest were stained scarlet.
She crouched to pick up the broken glass. The mundane task should have been easy, but her hands shook so badly she was afraid of cutting herself.
The woman’s voice drifted through the open windows. “What did you do to that girl?”
“Nothing,” Marcus snarled. “She’s fine, Ravenna.”
“She didn’t look fine.” The woman looked over her shoulder at the house.
Marcus wiped at the blood on his chin. It only smeared more. “I didn’t hurt her.”
“Listen, I came out to tell you I won’t be able to watch her tomorrow. It’s my fifteen-year anniversary with Arthur. I’ll leave my car, so it looks like I’m here.”
Emily stopped in the hallway, listening.
Ravenna's voice dropped to a low timbre. “I also came to warn you.”
“About?”
“You haven’t been watching the news, have you? The police found two exsanguinated bodies yesterday. The press is mucking around saying it may be a ritual killing or something.”
“I’ll check into it.”
Emily glanced at the television’s dark screen. She wrapped arms around herself and leaned against the wall. She’d come close to becoming number three.
Ravenna’s voice sounded close to the house now. “We haven’t seen Starr in a while. Are you sure this girl is still of interest to them?”
“The witch is planning something, just waiting for us to let down our guard. Has Arthur heard anything new?”
Though questions formed in Emily’s mind, she didn’t want to confront the two creatures outside her house. She crept down the hallway toward her bedroom instead.
Ravenna laughed. “Nothing he’s willing to share. He knows I’m loyal to you guys, so he’s not saying much about the meetings.”
Marcus groaned, followed by a dull thud. Emily imagined he’d smacked his palm against the side of the house in frustration. “I need to speak to the pack leader, as well as the heads of the shifter groups. Isabella is on shaky ground with them at the moment and so am I by association. It’s important that we know where their loyalties are. I don’t want any innocents getting caught in the storm that’s about to hit.”
“Plus you don’t want to find yourself on the opposite side of the shifter community, especially the weres, in this fight,” Ravenna said with a dark chuckle. “I’ll see what I can do, but they tend not to listen to me. They don't trust an independent like me.”
“Yeah, but your husband isn’t independent.”
They climbed the stairs, and the back porch creaked beneath their combined weight.
“You owe that poor girl an apology. I’m sure you scared the wits out of her.”
Marcus snorted in answer.
“Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t want to leave you alone with her if you aren’t.”
Emily didn’t hear Marcus’s reply. Instead, she hurried into her room and shut the door. She crawled onto the bed and drew her knees against her chest. Tonight had been a close call. He had to pack his things and go.
Minutes later, he knocked on her bedroom door. She sucked in a shuddering breath. Would he kick it down to attack again?
“Freckles?” Marcus’s voice was low and cautious. “Emily?”
She pulled the pillow tight against her chest. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“I'll drive you to work.”
“Scott doesn’t want you hanging around.” I don’t want you around.
Something thumped against the door. He might have rested his forehead against it, probably trying to tamp down the urge to throttle her. “I have to go out. I want you somewhere Beau or Scott can protect you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Marcus.” She shuddered at the idea of what his going out might entail.
“I want you to be safe.” His voice sounded strained, dangerous. “Besides, I need to talk to your boss.”
Emily laughed. “You expect me to trust you after what happened? You almost killed me.”
“I wasn’t going to kill you.”
Her knees quivered, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew what his other interest had been. “Go if you want, but don’t drag me along.”
“Don’t make me force you, Emily.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She clenched her jaw. “Give me five freaking minutes and promise you aren’t going to grab me.”
“You have my word. I’m under control now.”
“Like your word is worth much.” She threw the pillow aside then crawled off the bed.
She pulled a clean shirt from a hanger and put on a fresh pair of shorts. After she had slipped her feet into her favorite beaded sandals, she searched the dresser for a weapon. Her reflection in the mirror appeared pale and scared. She brought shaking fingers to the angry scratch on her right breast.
Tonight, she’d seen Marcus as the predatory monster he truly was. She would have to grow a backbone and demand that Isabella relieve Marcus of his duty. It didn’t matter how charming he was, or how beautiful. He had to go.
Emily paused at the bedroom door. The floorboards at the front of the house creaked, and the front door thumped closed. He must have stood in the hall and waited while she got ready. Had he imagined she’d shimmy out the bedroom window and run away? She glanced at the newly fixed glass and cursed for not thinking of it sooner.
They didn’t speak during the ride into the city. Emily kept her back pressed against the passenger door, and her gaze glued on Marcus. He parked in front of the funeral home and waited until she went inside. As soon as she was inside, he left. She watched his taillights fade from view.
“You're late. That's unlike you, Emily,” Scott greeted.
She turned from the window, and he must have noticed her shaken state. He crossed to her in two strides then wrapped her in a hug. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened, sweetheart?”
“He tried to eat me.” She twisted her head up to look at him. There was no way she would admit that he’d almost allowed him to seduce her as well.
A dark shadow crossed Scott’s hazel eyes. His arms f
elt like steel bands across her back. His voice was low and dangerous. “Where is he?”
“Headed downtown.”
Scott released her. “I’m going to find him.”
“No, don’t!” She grabbed his arm, fearful he’d get hurt if he left half cocked.
“I knew this was a bad idea.” Scott ran fingers through his hair. “I want him out of there. Tonight.”
Emily sank onto the closest chair and dropped her head into her hands. Scott seemed unsure about what to do. He paced the room then finally came to rest behind her. His hands kneaded her shoulders gently until she had calmed.
Several minutes later, Beau pushed through the workroom doors, a smear of blood on his work apron. “I just got off the phone with Marcus.”
Scott’s fingers had tensed before he removed them from Emily’s shoulders. “He tried to hurt Emily. That bastard isn’t going back to her house.”
“I’m more than positive it was accidental.” Beau remained calm, unworried. “The blood was cursed.”
“Excuse me? Cursed as in someone put a spell on it?” Scott tore at his tie, allowing it to hang loose around his neck like a scarf.
“He’s questioning someone about it right now. I'm sure we'll learn more after he gets back. I’d like to talk to Wren. She helped prepare the blood we gave Marcus.”
Scott stared at Beau. “Wren wouldn’t do that. Starr must have found another way.”
Beau said, “Marcus just tracked down one of the witches. The guy said Starr had one of her coven curse the blood. Starr counted on Marcus having to drink this recycled crap. He’d suffer and eventually attack.”
“Suffer how?” Emily hated the sound of concern that shook her voice. Damn it, she did not want to care about Marcus.
“The blood provided no sustenance.” Beau knelt at her knees and took her hands in his. “He was starving, Emily.”
Scott’s upper lip curled. “What could Wren hope to accomplish by doing that? I don’t believe she’d willingly put Emily in danger.”
Of A Darker Nature Page 17