by Cynthia Eden
But Duncan’s blood? It had been like wine. Ecstasy. Her whole body had shuddered from the pleasure of tasting it.
She looked at him now and still wanted.
It was wrong on so many levels. She was on a mission. Her first, ever. This was her chance to show Pate that she could still be an asset, even as a vampire. That he didn’t have to keep hiding her in the lab with the karahydrelene-laced blood right by her side in case she had a meltdown.
This was her shot, but she was about to blow it because she kept lusting over the werewolf to her left.
“Can you control me?”
The quiet question was the last thing she’d expected right then. Her head turned fully toward him. They were across the street from the bar, waiting beneath a broken street light. The darkness surrounded them, and, though she knew he could see perfectly in that darkness, Holly could only see the outline of his body and face.
Vamps didn’t get the sensory kick that werewolves possessed. They got the enhanced strength and mind control bit instead.
“Can you?” Duncan pressed.
“I haven’t,” she said, hedging.
A rough laugh. “That means you could, if you wanted.”
Yes. Maybe. “I should confess something to you.” She’d sounded so confident with Pate because she’d had to sound that way. “I, uh, I’ve never tried to control anyone before.”
A rather painful silence, then, “Run that by me again.” His eyes were shining, like a cat’s, in the dark.
“I’ve only taken blood from you and Saul. The other blood—it came bagged or was given to me via an IV. There were no people there for me to try and control.” Her words tumbled over each other. “Theoretically, I should be able to do this. I mean, it’s something all vamps can do so—”
He swore, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into the nearest alley. Then he pushed her back against the rough brick wall. “Theoretically? Holly, this isn’t some experiment. You go up to that werewolf and you can’t control him, then he’s gonna go right for your heart.”
Or her head. Because one surefire way to kill a vamp? Take off the head.
“I can do this, okay?” Her heart was racing in her chest. His hands had curled around her shoulders and his head—and that sexy mouth of his—waited just inches from hers.
“Prove it.” His hold tightened on her. “You got my blood, and you got his. So if you can control me…”
“Then I can control Saul.” But she shook her head. “I don’t want to do that to you.”
He stared down at her.
“You’ve been through enough lately, ok? It’s just been over thirty-six hours since your change. I know what it’s like to have your life ripped away.” Oh, talk about being able to relate. Now she could finally tell him. “And I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Holly pulled in a deep breath. “That’s why I’m not going to control to you, okay? You don’t need me ripping into your mind, too.”
His hold tightened. He brought his head even closer to hers. “I want you in my mind.”
“Duncan—”
“If you can’t do it, then you aren’t going into that bar. I’ll call Pate. Tell him to come get you. Tell him the operation is off.”
Then what would happen to her? She’d get shoved back in her lab, and Pate would start forcing her to try his cures again.
“Make me step away from you.” Duncan’s words were a low whisper. Rumbling. Dark. Sexy. “You think that you linked with me when you took my blood? Then make me step back. That’s simple enough, right?”
Yes. But she hated the thought of forcing him to do anything, even something so small, against his will.
“I’m inviting you in, baby. Let’s see what you’ve got.” His body brushed against hers. “Make me stop.”
Then his mouth took hers. Light at first, then harder. His tongue skimmed over her lips. His hand slid down her body, his fingers skirting around the curve of her breast.
A moan rose in her throat.
Make him stop? She’d rather make him strip.
A door slammed then. A car horn honked. Voices drifted toward them.
“Make me,” he said against her lips.
She could feel his cock swelling against her. Her body ached but…
Holly pulled her mouth from his. “S-step away from me.”
His whole body tightened.
Then his mouth found hers again as he kissed her harder.
Her heartbeat doubled. He wasn’t supposed to still be kissing her. This wasn’t the way it worked. She’d interviewed vamps at the facility. They’d all said…
Controlling prey is easy. Take the blood. Then just tell them what you want. They can’t resist. The blood is the link. The power.
They’d laughed about how easy it was to control humans.
Only…oh, crap, she wasn’t trying to control a human. She was dealing with a werewolf. Maybe she couldn’t control him through a compulsion.
He still had on his silver collar. Pate had given her another remote and had made sure it was tuned to be able to control both Saul and Duncan.
But she didn’t want to use the silver to control them.
His mouth lifted from hers. “Do you know…” Duncan growled against her lips, “that I want to bite you?”
Vampires weren’t the only ones who liked to bite.
“So what’s to stop me?” he murmured. His fingertips were suddenly at her throat. Trailing lightly over skin. No, not just his fingertips. She could feel the light scratch of his claws.
“There’s no one here. Just us. No other agents. No Pate.” The last was said with a touch of anger. “I can bite you. I can claim you. And you can’t stop me.”
What could have been a lick of fear shot through her. But, no, this was Duncan. He wouldn’t do anything to her.
Would he?
“S-stop,” she said.
“Make me,” he ordered her again.
His body seemed harder. Stronger. He wasn’t shifting—oh, he’d better not be shifting.
“Duncan?” Yes, okay, fear had the word trembling.
“When a werewolf bites his chosen mate,” and his fingers were on the side of her neck, “it’s a mark that tells all the other wolves to stay the hell away. A mark that says…mine.”
She knew how the wolf rules went. She’d done the paranormal classes that the agents took, too.
“I look at you,” his words were deeper, darker. “And think…mine.”
“You’re trying to s-scare me.” Trying. Succeeding.
“No. I’m telling you what is.” His head lowered to her neck. His teeth skimmed over her frantically racing pulse. “You won’t get away from me.”
She didn’t think it was the man who spoke the words, but the beast he’d become. The wolf inside that thought in primitive terms of possession and claiming.
Holly lifted her hands and tried to shove him back. “Stop.” He couldn’t claim her. A werewolf claiming was forever. Or rather, until death. Because werewolves had been known to kill their mates instead of letting them escape.
“Make me,”he snarled.
His hold was so much tighter. Harder. His hips were pressing against hers, and she could feel the light sting of his teeth on her neck.
The situation was out of control. He was out of control. They were supposed to be working together. Getting Saul.
“Duncan…”
His head lifted. His eyes stared down at hers. They were glowing—the gold and blue so bright. Far more beast than man. In that instant, she knew that he wasn’t stopping. Not unless she made him.
Her wild heartbeat shook her chest. She stared into his eyes. Felt fear and adrenaline heat her blood. “Let me go.” Her words didn’t shake. They just came from her, whispered softly.
His jaw clenched.
“Step away from me.” Her heart raced faster. Adrenaline had her fingers trembling as she pushed against his chest. “And get your hands off me.”
His teeth snapped together. An
d he backed away.
“Get control of your beast,” she said, flattening her hands against the wall behind her. “Get that control now.”
His shoulders rolled. His claws turned back into regular nails, and the wildness faded from his eyes.
They stared at each other, breath heaving.
I did it. But, just to be sure, she blurted, “Tell me you love me.”
“I love you,” he said instantly.
And her heart hurt. “Right.” Softer. She nodded. “I think that ends our little experiment, doesn’t it?”
He blinked. His eyes were still feverishly bright, shining in the night.
“I guess I just had to be scared enough.” Her head tipped back against the bricks as she stared up at the dark sky. “That was the purpose of that little scene, right? You were trying to scare me into losing control so I’d be able to use the vamp power?” Maybe that had been the key. He’d made her shake with fear for a moment there, but, it had worked. When she’d only had fear left, there had been no holding back. She’d felt as if something unlocked within her.
Power.
She realized that he hadn’t spoken.
Her gaze darted to him. “Duncan?”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”
Uh, oh. All of the moisture seemed to dry up in her mouth.
“I wanted to take you.” He backed up another step. “Consider yourself warned.”
Crap.
He turned away from her. “At least you know how to stop me now.”
He’d really been ordering her to stop him. Ordering…or begging? The words had been so rough. Had the man been fighting the beast? Trying to hang on? She reached out for him.
But he stepped farther away.
“No touching,” he growled. “When I touch you, I want.”
The blood link that she’d created? Or something more? Vampires were addictive to their prey, but she didn’t just want to be some addiction to him.
I love you.
She wanted to be something more.
“Let’s do this.” He headed toward the mouth of the alley.
“Wait!”
He stiffened but didn’t glance back. She forced herself away from the bricks. “Let me take off your collar.” Pate had wanted him to keep wearing it. Because Pate didn’t trust Duncan’s animal instincts.
“That’s not a good idea,” Duncan said.
“You’re not going to attack any human, you’re not—”
“I almost attacked you right then. And with the full moon coming…” She saw his hands clench. “It’s a risk I can’t take.”
Because of his family. She knew what had happened to them. The slaughter by werewolves that had left a five-year-old boy covered in blood and orphaned in the world.
He’d learned monsters were real at such an early age. Too early.
She hadn’t learned that lesson until she’d stepped into Pate’s world.
“I keep the collar.” It rode low on his neck. “And you keep the remote.” His head turned and his gaze met hers once more. “And if I ever go for your throat or your heart and you can’t pull me back with a vampire compulsion, you don’t fucking hesitate to burn me.”
She could only stare at him in shock.
“Promise me,” he demanded.
She nodded, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak. Because she didn’t want to lie to him.
Then they were heading toward the bar. Toward the laughter and the noise on the wrong side of the city. A battle waited for them, and this time, she would fight.
And not be the same victim that she’d been a year ago.
Because just a few blocks away, well, Holly had died in a spot there. In a pool of blood. With a vampire standing over her and with her brother screaming her name.
***
The bar reeked of blood and death. Humans were inside, dancing, seemingly oblivious to the smell.
But Duncan wasn’t human, not anymore. His nostrils widened as he pulled in the heavy scent that came primarily from the door on the far left. The door marked Private.
The door was guarded by two men he pegged instantly as werewolves.
“What’s happening in that room?” Holly whispered from beside him as her fingers curled around his arm.
He tried not to stiffen at her touch. He was too aware of her. Of every single thing that she did. Vampires were addictive, that was the spiel, right? Maybe that was why he had a constant hard-on and all he could think about was plunging into her again.
Mission. Focus on the mission. He didn’t even know what in the hell had happened in that alley. One minute, he’d been trying to get her to use a compulsion on him. Going out on a mission without even a test run—what had Pate been thinking? And then in the next instant, he’d just wanted to mark her. To let any other wolf know that Holly belonged to him.
Because other werewolves would want her. Especially once they got a whiff of her scent.
The old stories humans told about vampires and werewolves being enemies…those stories were wrong. Vampires and werewolves were often drawn together. One’s strength was another’s weakness. Together they were damn near unstoppable. So, hell, yes, another werewolf would want her.
He wasn’t going to let anyone have her.
A blonde woman, laughing, drunk, was led to the Private door. The werewolves moved out of her way. Staggering a bit, she headed into the “Private” area. Her escort—a redhead with piercings circling his left ear—left her quickly.
The door closed behind her. The werewolves resumed their guarding position.
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. The redhead started scanning the room once more. Looking for new prey.
“We need to get in that room,” Duncan said.
“I figured that would be your answer.” She sighed, then said, “All that blood…the humans they take in, they don’t come back out, do they?”
No.
She pulled her hand away from him. “I’ll get in. If Saul is down there—”
“He is.”
“Then I’ll get him to come back out.”
Before he could stop her, she was sauntering across the room. The jeans she wore clung to her ass, and his gaze sure wasn’t the only one to notice just how good she looked.
The redhead’s stare locked on her.
He smiled.
Touch her, and I’ll break every bone you have.
The beast was getting stronger within Duncan. So much more dangerous. Was it because the full moon was drawing ever closer? Or because he was destined to be one of those psychotic wolves that lived for blood and death?
The redhead had walked up to Holly. Gotten far too close to her. Duncan headed toward them. Even over the drone of voices, he could hear the redhead say, “You’re new here, aren’t you?”
“I heard it was a good place to party,” Holly replied.
The redhead steered her toward the bar. Motioned to the bartender. “And do you like to party?”
“I like to get wild.”
When had her voice become so throaty? Where was the shy doctor he knew and lusted after?
This was the vamp. Sexy. And taking too many risks.
The redhead was seriously leaning too close to her as the guy tried to give her a drink. “There’s a real wild party downstairs.”
Duncan caught the flash of her smile. “I didn’t even know this place had a lower level.”
“Um, yes, it’s for VIPs.” The redhead trailed his fingers over her shoulder. “I think you count as someone very important tonight.” He lifted the drink toward her mouth. “Here, have some…”
The dick was shoving the drink down her throat. And Holly was what—just taking it? The woman had to be smarter than that!
And he realized that she wasn’t actually drinking the dark red liquid. Her head turned a bit as her gaze met his.
Then she pushed the glass away. “Take me to the party,” she told the redhead.
Huh. For her first mission,
the lady was doing damn well.
Vamp power? Or just sex appeal? Either way, it was working.
The redhead was leading her toward the door. She had her entrance pass. Now for his turn. Because he wasn’t about to let her go in alone.
The werewolves moved back for her, but Duncan saw them inhale deeply and frown at her. Hell. Her scent could blow things for them—
But then she vanished down the stairs.
The redhead immediately eased back. Started searching again.
Duncan kept his eyes on that door. His whole focus centered on the two guards there. If Holly wasn’t back upstairs in three minutes, he would be going inside after her.
Three minutes.
He started to count.
***
The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet. Holly’s fingers slid over the wobbly railing, feeling the rough wood press against her skin. More music was coming from below. Pumping, hard music. She could hear women moaning.
The scent of blood was getting thicker.
Some party, all right.
Darkness waited at the foot of the stairs.
She headed into that darkness.
And was immediately grabbed by strong arms.
“I knew you’d come for me.” The voice was familiar. Growling.
Saul.
He yanked her with him, pulling her through the darkness. She saw the flickering flames of candles burning. And…in that faint light, she saw a woman’s broken body on the ground. Her neck had been ripped open. Blood pooled around her.
“The bitch reminded me of you,” Saul said. His breath was hot against her throat. “I had to bite.”
Fear shot her, and it was that wild, desperate fear that she needed. She twisted and put her hands on his chest. Stared into his hate-filled, wild eyes, and said, “Drop your claws.” The claws that he’d dug into her sides.
He blinked. His teeth snapped together.
“Drop your claws!”
His claws fell to his sides. His body tensed, as if he were straining, and she knew he was trying to fight her compulsion.
“Now don’t move. Not so much as a single step, understand me?”
He didn’t move. Didn’t reply. Didn’t blink.
She figured he’d understood her.