by Kresley Cole
He bit out, "I don't know. You need to be kept close. But not bloody inside me." In this position, he could see straight down her shirt to her pale cleavage. Just to distract him, a bead of perspiration trickled past her necklace, down between those alabaster mounds. When he focused on that view, he found this situation wasn't as troubling. In fact, he was hard. He wanted to lick the sweat from every inch of her skin.
She walked her fingers up his chest, twining her hands behind his neck. "My dark fey's protecting me again?"
He dragged his gaze to her face. "It wouldn't be the first time. I did try to safeguard you below."
"You were so fast against Desh! And you're a lot stronger than I thought. Which is saying something since I saw you drop a building when I spied on you."
He'd never scented her when she'd watched him--because she'd been air. "My strength comes with age. In the Lore, old man means strong man."
"I feel your strength when I'm inside you. Possessing you gives me a high."
"You've done it to me more than once?" It struck him. "In Tortua."
She nodded. "I wanted to make sure I had an out if you tried to gank me or something. So I found an in."
"Why would you ever materialize? You're invincible as long as you're intangible. Why not go twenty-four hours a day?"
"I like having a body."
He would like having her body as well. "Have you possessed others when they have sex?"
She grinned. "Oh, yeah."
He clutched her closer. "Do you make them do things?"
"I'm a voyeur only. I try not to make shells move. Messes with their minds."
"You don't say." His jaw was sore from his own hits. "I had no idea why I was punching myself in the face. And then to step off the ledge?"
"I usually can't sense anything inside a shell, but I tasted your fear and felt your heart thundering. Sorry I scared you." Just as her delicate fingertips had climbed up, they began to trail back down.
"What're you doing, Josephine?" He barely recognized his voice. Gods, she made him feel reckless. And exhilarated.
Young.
"It's like I've got you cuffed. You can't escape my clutches." Her hand dipped to the waist of his trews, then inside. She gasped to find his cock erect and aching for her attention.
"Why would I ever want to escape?" he asked, hissing in a breath when she thumbed the crown in a mind-numbing circle.
She moaned, her nipples hardening against her shirt. He needed to touch her too! Battling his fear, he released the chain and rewarded his palms with plump flesh.
FORTY
I would kill to take you," Rune murmured, nuzzling her ear. "I'd fuck you right here."
He cupped Jo's tits, getting so caught up he seemed to have forgotten all about the drop below. "You really would?" She shivered when he swept his thumbs across her nipples.
"Say the word. Though I wonder if I could last long enough to get you ready." His brows drew together. "That's another sentence I never thought I'd say."
"Get me ready?" Next to his bowstring, his shirt opened into a V, revealing damp skin and that rune on his chest. She wanted to trace it with her tongue.
"You're so tight, Josie. I'm going to do everything I can to keep you from hurting."
She grasped his dick at the base. Couldn't fit her fist around it. "I take your point. But you don't have to worry about how tight I am"--she leaned in to kiss that rune--"because I won't sleep with you unless we're monogamous." She darted her tongue to his skin. He tasted delicious, the salt of his clean sweat making her moan.
She wanted to keep kissing down his torso, to the rune around his navel. Then head lower to the hot, swollen part of him that pulsed in her palm. When she stroked him, he rocked to her grip.
"You're a wicked little tease." He tweaked her nipple, drawing a whimper from her. His other hand dipped down her front.
"Tease? You haven't seen anything. What if I used telekinesis to stroke you?" She moved her hand on him. "You could be standing across the room, and no one would see I was jerking you off. You'd never know when to expect it."
His eyes lit with excitement. "I want this!"
Then stick around. "Soon. It's still kind of new to me. I just learned how to do it at your place."
"Is that why you destroyed everything?" He started unbuttoning her jeans.
"Partly. Plus I was jealous."
He unzipped her, then grazed his fingertips above her thong. "I knew it."
"Is it so bad to want this"--she squeezed his dick--"all to myself?"
His nostrils flared.
"And then you could have me exclusively too."
"I want . . ." he trailed off. "Damn it! Mortals approach."
The mountain was teeming with them. With a last stroke that made him shudder, she drew her hand from his pants.
He cursed under his breath, then zipped her back up.
"Rain check?"
"The second time you've asked for that today," Rune said. "Will mine or Desh's be honored first?" Totally jealous!
He could deny it all he wanted to. Hell, he was even trying to deny her feelings. Schoolgirl crush? Bullshit.
She gazed up at his penetrating eyes--glowing magenta in the sunlight--and things grew clear. The facts: He'd pleasured her more than anyone ever had, and his expression promised more soon. He was the strongest male she'd ever met, the smartest, the most accomplished. Taking his blood made her feel connected as never before.
She knew from his memories that when Rune loved, he loved deeply.
Why wouldn't she want him for her own?
He and Josephine sat on a bench, watching the sun begin to set, and even Rune could admit the sight was a spectacle. Maybe she was making him see the worlds anew.
Earlier, they'd reached the summit and explored, then cased the teahouse. He'd detected no sign of Nix, no lingering Valkyrie scent. They'd beaten her here.
Most of the humans were dispersing--leaving a few couples and the occasional night climbers with headlamps on--so he and Josephine had found seats to soak up the last of the sun.
Both of them were lost in thought, but the silence was companionable.
Josephine was likely imagining her reunion with her brother. He feared she was building up their meeting so much that disappointment was sure to follow.
A troubling notion.
He ought to be plotting their next move, but his musings were fixed on the day-walker beside him.
He ran his hand over his chin, replaying their interaction. He really had expected her to deny his crush accusations, perhaps convincing him of her feelings.
What would happen if her infatuation waned? Wouldn't that be ironic? Rune wanting a tart more than she wanted him.
He still couldn't believe she'd possessed him. More unbelievable--he wouldn't mind if she did it again, as long as she didn't float him off a mountain. . . .
When a young vendor strolled by with a cart of wares for sale--food, gloves, even jackets--she asked Rune, "Will you buy something?"
She didn't look cold and wouldn't be interested in the food. "Ah, you want a souvenir, then. To go with your others," he said, clearly delighting her. "What shall we get for the table in your motel room?"
Her entire visage seemed to glimmer. "It doesn't matter what--so long as it's from here."
He stood and surveyed the cart. Candy bars, Red Bull, peanuts. The only thing with distinctly Chinese lettering was some kind of drink in a ceramic jug.
Rune pointed to it, raising his brows at the vendor. The mortal male mimed drinking, then stumbled in a circle. Josephine laughed.
Ah, alcohol. Rune took one. The vendor was happy to accept U.S. currency.
Returning to her side, Rune asked, "Do you want to try this?"
"You drink it, you poor thing. After the stressful day you had?"
He grinned. "Have your fun." He uncorked the jug, eyes watering at the smell. "Good gods, this will be strong." He tried a taste.
"What's it like?"
Unusual. "It doesn't burn going down, and yet I can tell the alcohol content is high." Perfect. When she fed later, she'd grow intoxicated. He took a healthy swallow, drinking for two.
He'd already planned to loosen her inhibitions to get information from her, but now he had even more reason. Though today had answered a lot of questions, it'd raised so many more.
Why had she been separated from a brother she loved? And why hadn't she known her own species? Where were her parents?
Why hadn't she been taught to read?
Earlier, when he'd suggested they stay near the summit, she'd said, "Where will we sleep? Maybe in one of the hermit caves we passed? You probably didn't see them, with your eyes squeezed shut and all."
Smart ass. "We'll get a guest room on the mountain."
"How do you know they have them?"
"There was a notice in English on the bulletin board." She'd stood beside him, appearing to read it.
"Oh, yeah." She'd shifted her gaze away. "I remember reading that."
With that statement, Rune had realized two things.
Unlike natural-born vampires, Josephine was physically able to lie.
And she probably couldn't read.
In Tortua, he'd tossed the Book of Lore at her. Thinking back, he could see how frustrated she'd been. And the fact that she hadn't harmed a single page in his library was telling; he believed she wanted to learn.
Teaching her English wouldn't be hard, but it would take time and commitment. For once in his life, he didn't know where the future lay with a particular female. He took another long draw from the jug.
The final light of the day hit the peaks, rays streaking the stone. When was the last time he'd watched a sunset?
As night fell over the mountain, the temperature quickly dropped. He wrapped his arm around Josephine, pulling her close. An unfamiliar wave of . . . something washed over him.
Relaxation? Satisfaction?
She drew back to gaze up at him with those luminous eyes.
Death and death rolled into one? Then why did she look so alive? "What?"
After a hesitation, she leaned her head against him and sighed.
"Right now, I bet you think I'm the greatest thing since bagged blood."
"Right now, you're not so bad, sport."
For a male who'd never hoped to have a fated female, he was settling in with Josephine at an alarming rate.
Only known her for a blink of an eye. . . .
Then why was he picturing his emotions as an expanding flame?
FORTY-ONE
Jo and Rune sat next to each other in a mountainside restaurant. Outside, the temperature kept dropping and the wind picked up, making the structure quiver, but their spot in the corner was warm and cozy. Paper lanterns cast a muted glow. Soft strains of exotic music sounded.
Even to a blood-drinker, the food scents were appealing. She needed to steal something from this place to remind her of her first dinner date.
Rune had arranged for them to get a room in a guesthouse and a meal. Dinner and a bed. She wondered how often he'd done that with a female.
Just three nights a year meant twenty-one thousand times.
Let that one alone, Jo. She wouldn't overthink this, not when she'd shared such an incredible day with him. He'd bought her a souvenir--her first real one--and then he'd held her on a bench, like that couple in New Orleans.
This was really happening!
After sunset, they'd taken a few minutes to return to Tortua and her motel for warmer clothes. She'd placed that emptied jug on her table beside the groom's cufflinks.
With her new memento, she would remember the day she'd spent exploring a mountain in China with her dream guy.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked now.
"This entire day."
"What was your favorite part?"
"Teasing you on the plankway was fun. And I loved watching the sunset with you." When he'd put his arm around her, Jo had concluded that the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. So she'd decided to open up to him tonight.
Of course he'd been holding back--because she was. Once he realized she was awesome, he'd fall into line.
The restaurant host, an elderly man with a shaved head and a bounce in his step, brought them menus, indicating they should read one side.
One side, Chinese. The other, English. Shit. She'd have to get food to look human!
"Shall I order for you?" Rune asked.
Relieved, she handed her menu back. "Sounds good."
He ordered something that sounded like bee-yang, along with some bie-jo.
"What'd you get?" she asked when the host bustled away.
"A noodle dish and more of that drink from earlier. Now that I think of it, I should have asked you. Certain foods might spice my blood and skin. You probably have preferences."
She didn't know. In the interest of opening up more, she admitted, "I've never bitten anyone but you. Well, except for my own wrist." Vampire masturbation.
He inhaled sharply. "If I saw you do that, I might spontaneously come." Then the rest of her admission hit him. "I was your first?" His tone couldn't have been smugger.
"Yep, your blood converted me. I can't go back to bagged."
He grinned. "It's that good. I'd wondered if you like mine because it's black."
"Maybe red blood would taste different coming from the flesh. Like the difference between fresh and packaged food." Even so, it could never compare to Rune's. "I've got time to figure it all out."
His grin faded. "You expect to drink indiscriminately? Only Horde vampires do that. They take so many memories their eyes grow red and their minds rot." He'd been relaxed, but now irritation simmered.
"You're jealous to think of me biting another, huh? It is kind of like sex--with the licking, and the lips, and the penetration. Just think, other guys would react the way you did. I'd get blood; they'd get a nut. Just as nature intended."
He didn't say anything, but his fists clenched.
Exciting! "Well, it's not like I have to worry about any of this right away. I'm drinking only from you." She cast him a nonchalant smile. "Currently."
The host returned, interrupting the tension at the table. He set down a decorative jug, similar to the one from earlier, and two small glasses. When he poured the clear liquid, the strength of the alcohol stung Jo's nose.
Rune sipped it, nodding his approval. As the host walked away, Rune shot the glass, used his fey speed to down hers as well, then poured another round.
"Do you always drink so much?"
"I'm drinking for two."
"Ohhh. I would get tipsy from your blood?"
"Let's find out." He turned to face her, his big frame concealing her from view. He used a claw to pierce his forefinger. "Look at your gaze lock on my blood. You think you could give it up for another's so easily?"
She grasped his hand. "I never said I didn't love yours."
In the lantern light, his irises darkened to the deepest plum as he rasped, "Suck."
She pulled his finger to her mouth, closed her lips over it, and drew. His blood did taste different tonight.
He stifled a groan, using the heel of his other palm to adjust his erection. "Look at me when you feed."
She gazed up, and he murmured, "That's it. Fuck, I could come right here."
Her claws dug into his skin. She knew the feeling!
"You love my taste."
Growing light-headed, she eased her suck, but he said, "Ah-ah, a little longer."
She took a few more swallows, then released him, licking her lips.
He palmed himself again. "How was your dinner?"
"Delicious as ever, but with a kick."
As if she'd proven some point, he said, "That's what I thought." His good mood was restored. "And how are you feeling?"
She couldn't stop grinning. "Wonderful."
"I suspected it would hit you quickly. The alcohol will get into your system much faster than it d
oes mine."
"Is that stuff the strongest you've ever drunk?"
"In the realm of Pandemonia, the demons make a brew called lava liquor that will put you to your knees."
He was so world(s)ly. Was it any wonder he fascinated her? She put her elbows on the table, resting her chin in both hands as she stared at him. "How many realms have you been to? Wait--lemme guess--you can't count that high."
"Exactly." A hint of a smile curved his sexy lips.
She sighed. "Remind me to figure out how high you can count. What's your favorite world?"
He held her gaze. "Right now, Earth is ranking very high." Flirtatious Rune was irresistible.
"Would you have come here if not on a mission?"
"I visit on occasion. But Tenebrous--the home of the Morior--has been very far from Gaia and its planes. Tracing that distance can be demanding, even for immortals our age. The realm is moving closer as we speak, but still takes days to get there."
"Realms can move?"
"Ours can."
"Tell me about the Morior. How many are there?"
He seemed pleased by her interest. "Including myself, ten. But we'll eventually be a dozen. Morior means twelve. Or soul's doom. Most of us have been together for thousands of years."
"How did you get involved with them?"
"I was in a dungeon. Orion, our leader, freed me. He's descended from gods, very powerful."
She laid her hand on Rune's forearm. "Why were you imprisoned?"
"Long story short--"
"Lemme stop you right there. If it concerns you, I will never want the short story."
He gave her a considering glance, but she could tell he'd liked that. "Very well. My father was the king of the fey kingdom of Sylvan. My mother was a slave he used. When I was born, he spared my life--against custom--but didn't give me a life worth living. He died when I was fifteen. His widow, Queen Magh, forced me to become an assassin by holding my mother's life over me. I later learned she was already dead."
"I'm sorry, Rune." He'd just confirmed those dreams of hers were indeed his memories. What else would she see? "Then what happened?"
"I was too good at my job. In time, there was no one to kill, no one to interrogate. So Magh sold me as a . . . slave. I suppose she expected me to lose my mind or wallow in misery. But I became cold, and I endured. She forced me back to Sylvan just to torture me. Orion found me in her dungeon and freed me. Because of him, I was able to exact my vengeance on Magh."
"Then he has my thanks. I'm glad I never planned to spy on him."