Pushing her confusion about the big warrior to the back of her mind, Sophie turned her attention to more practical matters. She thought about putting the ragged blood-stained dress back on, but she just couldn’t face it. She pulled on her lace panties and put the uniform shirt back on instead. Her bra had been torn in half along with the dress and was a complete loss—she didn’t even try to wear it. The heavy, silky material or Sylvan’s shirt rubbed her nipples, making them throb sensitively. Again she thought of his mouth on her there and again she pushed the thought away. Stop remembering it. You’re only making it worse.
Opening the bathroom door, she peered hesitantly into the cabin. Sylvan had apparently been busy while she was taking a shower. There was a crackling fire in the fireplace across from the bed and a heavy chair had been propped against the broken door.
Sylvan was sitting in front of the fire on a heavy black fur rug, staring into the flames with an unreadable look in his eyes. He looked up when Sophie came out. “You look refreshed.”
“They actually have hot water. Well, if I didn’t use it all.” She nodded at the bathroom. “You want a shower?”
He shook his head. “The running water might mask sounds I need to hear.”
“Oh, well…okay then.” Trying not to limp on her still-sore ankle, she made her way over and sat down gingerly beside him. The fur of the rug ticked her bare thighs uncomfortably and her skinned knees and the raw palms of her hands stung. God, even after a shower she was still a mess. “Sorry I’m still wearing your shirt,” she said, since he was staring at her. “I, uh…my dress was ruined.”
“It’s yours to keep for as long as you want it.” But still his eyes didn’t leave her face.
“Is everything okay?” Sophie put a hand to her throat self-consciously. “I mean, you keep, uh looking at me. Do I look strange or something?”
He shook his head. “No, you look perfect. Just…perfect.”
“Oh.” Sophie had no idea what to say. “I, uh, I wonder if there’s anything to eat,” she said, wanting to change the subject. “I mean, there’s probably nothing in the fridge, but there might be something worth having in the cabinets.” She nodded at the small kitchenette which was separated from the bedroom/living area of the cabin by a low bar.
“There are a few cylinders of different foodstuffs. I saw them when I was looking for something to use as a weapon.” Sylvan shrugged. “There are no knives, unfortunately. And nothing edible that looked worth bothering with—except this.” He lifted a mug that had been sitting to one side of him and handed it to her. “I heated the water on the fire to make it. I hope you like it.”
“What is it?” Sophie sniffed suspiciously at the contents of the blue glass mug. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Sylvan—just that Kindred had been know to mix up human foods on occasion. She would never forget Liv telling her about Baird’s first attempt to make pizza. Ugh. But the scent that met her nose was surprisingly pleasing. Mint and some kind of cream? She took an experimental sip. “Hey, pretty good.”
“There were some bags full of herbs that smelled pleasant. I let them soak in the hot water.” He smiled at her. “We make a similar drink on Tranq Prime.”
“It’s called tea.” Sophie smiled at him and took another sip. “Well, that’s what we call it, anyway. And it’s really good—thank you for making it.”
He nodded gravely. “I wish I had more to offer. I did bring some protein paste.” He produced a strange oblong tube and cracked it open. Holding out half to Sophia he said, “Go ahead. It might not be to your taste but it will keep you on your feet for days.”
“Uh, okay.” Taking the half tube she sniffed experimentally. A rich, meaty smell rose to her nostrils. It was strong but not exactly unpleasant.
“Well?” Sylvan was watching her.
“Smells like…beef jerky.” Sophie took another sniff. “Actually, it smells pretty good. What kind of animal is it from?”
Sylvan stared into the fire as he spoke. “Mostly it’s ground up fleeta beadle larva.”
“What?” Sophie nearly gagged. Thank God I didn’t try any!
“Fleeta beadles. We call them blood bugs on Tranq Prime because even though they’re a delicacy, eating them was the cause of Blood Fever.”
Sophie made a face. “Blood fever? What’s that?”
“A disease that only affects unmated females. It nearly decimated the Tranq Prime natives before the Kindred came to make a trade with them and brought a cure.” He looked into the fire as he spoke. “Now, of course, we know the cause of Blood Fever was a parasite that lives in the beadle’s digestive tract—it reacts with a compound found in the Tranq Prime water supply. But since all females are now inoculated against it, we can eat them again.”
“Ugh!” Sophie handed back the half finished tube. “Maybe you can eat them. I’m not going to.”
“What’s wrong?” He gave her a surprised look. “I thought you said it smelled good.”
“I, uh, changed my mind.” Shuddering, Sophie took another sip of mint tea. “So anyway, I don’t think we have to worry about the cyborg bloodhounds now,” she said, wanting to steer the conversation away from beadle larva paste.
“Oh?” Sylvan raised an eyebrow at her. “And why is that?”
“Can’t you tell?” She leaned a little closer to him. “Smell me.”
His eyes seemed to glow in the firelight. “Are you inviting me to scent you?”
“Uh…I guess so.” Sophie shrugged. “I just…” But the words died in her mouth.
Sylvan was on his hands and knees before her and his nose was pressed to her inner ankle. As she watched, her heart pounding, he traced a path up, following her leg to the back of her knee and then straight to her inner thigh. For a moment Sophie thought he was going to press his face right between her legs. But to her intense relief, after a long pause, he continued up her body, ending at her neck.
“You smell delicious.” His deep voice in her ear and his warm breath against the sensitive side of her neck sent a shiver through her. For some reason her nipples were tight under the silky shirt and she felt uncomfortably sensitive between her legs.
“Um…thanks.” She wished her voice wouldn’t come out sounding so squeaky. “I, uh, didn’t mean for you to do…do that. What I meant to say was that I used some really strong soap when I took a shower. So there’s no way the uh, sniffers can find me now.”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong.” Sylvan sat back, looking at her.
“What do you mean? You can’t seriously tell me you could smell any of my personal, uh, scent past all that soap I used. I mean, I lathered up three times.”
Sylvan gave her an intent look. “The scent they’re following can’t be eradicated with soap, no matter how much you use. They search for the overlying fragrance—your skin, your hair—but the underlying note is what draws them to you. And it is what will keep them coming if they find us.”
“But what…where…?” Sophie shook her head.
“It’s the scent of your sex.” One large hand drifted between her legs and he brushed her inner thigh lightly with his fingertips, as though illustrating his point. Sophie gasped at the gentle touch. “Your female essence,” he murmured. “The sweet, warm scent that is completely and utterly you, Sophia.”
“They…they can smell me there?”
“I can. And if I can, the urlich certainly can.”
“Oh my God!” Sophie was appalled. She clamped her thighs together and drew her knees up to her chin. “I…I don’t know what to say. Personal hygiene is very, very important to me. I—”
“Stop.” Sylvan put a large warm hand on her thigh. “Did you think I meant they were following an unpleasant scent?”
“Well how else could it be strong enough to follow in the first place? I mean, my God…” Sophie shook her head, unable to go on.
“Sophia, no.” Sylvan ducked his head so that he could look into her eyes. “Your scent is distinctive as any female’s scent is. But yo
urs is also the most beautiful, delicious, heady aroma I have ever smelled.”
“What?” She looked at him, wide-eyed and uncertain. “Are you actually saying you like the scent of my…of my…”
“Of your sex. Your pussy.” His ice-blue eyes were hot now, half-lidded with lust. “It’s warm and rich and completely feminine. It fills me with desire.” His voice dropped to a soft growl. “And makes me wonder how you would taste.”
“You…you want to taste me there?”
Slowly, he nodded. “If we really were in our claiming period, I would need to taste you often and thoroughly.”
“Is that…a Kindred thing?” Her heart was pounding now and she was very aware of his mating scent. God, they were getting into dangerous territory here but she couldn’t seem to stop.
“We like to keep our mates satisfied and mark them as our own.” His voice was a soft growl.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “So…it’s all about possession. Keeping your woman with you and proving she’s yours?”
“It’s not just that.” Sylvan’s eyes traveled down her body and she could almost feel the heat from his gaze wherever he looked. “It’s about spreading your female open and mapping her most secret places. Tasting her honey and thrusting your tongue deep in her tight, wet pussy until she moans and cries your name…pulling your hair and scratching your shoulders as she loses control completely from the pleasure you’re giving her.”
“I…I…” Sophie was speechless. The words he used painted an incredibly vivid picture in her mind. She could almost see herself lying on the bed with Sylvan between her legs, opening her, tasting her… No! Stop it. She shook her head, trying to get the embarrassing and enticing image out of her brain.
Sylvan must have sensed her unease because he shook his head. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that your scent is so delicious and I can’t…can’t help responding to it.”
“I can’t help responding to yours either,” Sophie admitted in a low voice. “We…we should probably be careful that we don’t…you know, do something we might regret.”
“And would you regret it?” he murmured. “Would you regret giving yourself to me, Talana?”
“I…” Sophie’s mouth felt too dry to answer. “I’d be afraid to,” she said at last. “You…you’d want to bite me if I…if we did that. Wouldn’t you?”
Sylvan sighed. “Biting is part of bonding sex for the Blood Kindred, yes.”
“But not just bonding sex,” Sophie said. “If we…if you really did claim me—I mean, I know you don’t really want to any more than I want you to—but if you did… you’d want to bite me every time.”
“Love making is not complete without the gift of blood,” he said heavily. “Not for us.”
Sophie shivered. “I’m sorry, but sex is bad enough without adding biting and blood to it. I’m not a masochist, Sylvan—I don’t like pain. I don’t, uh, get off on being hurt.”
“I would never hurt you,” he said in a low voice that did strange things to her insides.
Sophie looked into the fire, trying not to meet his eyes. “I don’t see how you could avoid it. If you were, uh, biting me, I mean. Anyway, if I ever do get married or bonded or whatever you want to call it, it couldn’t be with someone like you. I mean, you’re a really nice guy but…”
He raised an eyebrow. “But?”
Sophie felt awkward but somehow it had to be said. She needed to let him know how she felt before things went any further. “Well it’s not just because of the biting thing, really it’s not,” she said. “It’s because you’re so big. So aggressive. I mean, the things you said to that Scourge guy in the shuttle…”
Sylvan frowned. “He was threatening you. I had to make it clear you were off limits.”
“And I appreciate that,” Sophie said earnestly. “But I don’t know who you scared more, me or him.” She thought of the way he’d looked, with his fangs out and that blood-thirsty look in his eyes—terrifying. Even though they’d been about to crash, she hadn’t been able to stop staring at him.
Sylvan nodded thoughtfully. “And if you ever do get bonded, what kind of male would you look for?”
“Probably not a Kindred. I don’t want any kind of alpha male,” Sophie said decisively.
He frowned. “Alpha male?”
“Big, strong, angry, aggressive. You know like…like the captain of the football team.” Sophie looked down at her hands. “If I ever end up with someone he’ll have to be quiet and gentle.”
“I can be those things.” Taking one of her hands, he raised it to his mouth and kissed her wounded palm gently. Sophie felt her breath catch in her throat as he bathed the raw skin with his tongue, his eyes never leaving hers while he did it. “There,” he murmured, finally releasing her hand.
“Th-there what?” Sophie couldn’t stop looking at him. For some reason she felt as though her heart was beating in every part of her body at once and her palm was tingling like crazy.
“Your hand.” He nodded at it. “It’s healed.”
“What?” She finally broke his gaze and looked down at her palm. “Wow! It really is.”
He smiled. “I told you. May I have your permission to heal the rest of you as well?”
“I…I guess so.” Sophie held her breath as he lapped gently at her other palm. But when he turned his attention to her skinned knees, she tried to stop him. “No, really,” she said, trying to inch away when he knelt before her. “I…they don’t hurt that bad. Honestly.”
“Sophia,” he said sternly. “It is not only my pleasure and privilege to heal your wounds, it’s my duty too. I was charged with your safety and well being—I must fulfill that charge.”
“You really take it that seriously?”
He nodded. “A Kindred never goes back on his word.” His voice turned slightly wistful. “Do you really fear me so much you won’t even allow me to heal a few small wounds?”
“No, I guess not. It’s just…embarrassing.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Kneeling down he ran his warm, wet tongue slowly across her injured knee. Looking up at her he whispered, “You’re beautiful, Sophia. I want to heal you.”
“Th-thank you,” she murmured, her heart pounding.
“You’re more than welcome.” He licked her other knee, taking his time, obviously savoring the moment.
When he finally drew back, Sophie was almost panting. The feel of his hot mouth on her legs was stimulating and embarrassing at the same time. She kept thinking of how he’d said he wanted to taste her. Imagining his hot mouth further up—a lot further up—was all she could think of.
Then suddenly he was leaning in as if for a kiss. Sophie couldn’t help herself. Her heart was banging against her ribs from the feel of his tongue on her skin and his mating scent was invading her senses. She leaned in to meet him, closing her eyes…And felt his mouth on her temple instead of against her lips.
“What? What are you doing?” she asked uncertainly.
“You’re wounded here too. You hit your head on a rock—remember?” His voice was low and intimate in her ear and the feel of his tongue against her temple made her shiver helplessly.
“Of…of course.” Sophie felt foolish. To think she’d believed he wanted to kiss her after she just finished telling him he wasn’t her type. He was obviously just being nice—a lot nicer than most guys would be after an unequivocal rejection.
Finally Sylvan sat back and looked at her. “Was that gentle enough for you?”
“It…was very nice.” Which was the understatement of the year. She could still feel her newly healed skin tingling everywhere he’d licked. Could still feel the heat of his tongue caressing her so gently… “I…I mean you were very gentle. Very sweet.” Sophie could feel herself blushing. “Thank you. I…I thought for a minute there that you were going to, uh, heal my lip. Where you bit me earlier.”
Sylvan looked at her seriously. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than ta
sting your lips, Talana. But I didn’t want to offend you.”
You should stop now. This is a really bad idea, whispered a little voice in her head. Weren’t you the one who didn’t want to go too far? Well guess what, it’s nice now but a man like this is hard to stop once you get him started. And you know exactly how badly this situation can end. Yes, she knew only too well. But somehow she couldn’t help herself.
“I…I’m not offended,” she breathed.
“Then I’ll gladly heal you.” Sylvan leaned toward her…and froze.
“Is something wrong?” Sophie looked at him expectantly. “I, uh, told you I wasn’t offended.”
“It isn’t that.” Sylvan turned from side to side, his head cocked in a listening angle. “Urlich,” he murmured at last in a voice so low Sophie felt it more than heard it. “Can’t you smell the foul stench?”
Sophie inhaled deeply but all she could smell was his mating scent. Then she heard it. A deep snuffling sound was coming from just outside the splintered door. Sylvan had blocked it with a chair but for someone or something really determined to get in, that would present only a momentary distraction, she was sure.
Sylvan put his mouth to her ear. “Not a sound,” he breathed. “If they break through run to the bathroom and go out the window.”
Sophie shook her head frantically. “I don’t want to leave you,” she protested in a whisper.
“Do it.” Sylvan’s eyes blazed. “I’ll kill as many as I can before they take me down. You get as far from here as possible. If you hear them catching up, climb a tree. They’re only good on the ground.”
“But…but Sylvan…”
Shaking his head, he moved from her side and crouched facing the door. To Sophie he looked like a tiger poised to spring.
He’s getting ready to fight…to die if necessary to protect me, she realized. What did I ever do to deserve that kind of sacrifice?
And how in the world was she going to manage without him?
Hunted Page 13