"You can’t tell me you have never seen a naked woman before," Jaden mused wryly when he continued to stare. If he didn’t turn away soon, she would melt.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such as you, m’lady, he thought. He refused to let her detect the words. Seeing the bravado on her face wavering slightly, he let the side of his lip curl up. If she wanted to play, he would play. Slowly he skulked forward. His eyes took further possession of her form until she knew he branded her for his own.
Jaden gulped and panted and shivered. She knew the look on his face. She saw the evidence of his meaning in the growing bulge of his tight jeans. It was too late to back down, too late to scream and hide in the depths of the concealing water. Her hands quivered, wanting to shoot up and hide her private areas from view. She felt like a piece of raw meat about to be devoured by the wolves.
"Do you mind?" she asked flippantly. The look didn’t hold. Animalistic hunger devoured her. She wanted to jump out and tackle him to the ground. But seeing the silver splinters alighting in his eyes, she held back. It was all a mirage. He was forcing her to feel. She couldn’t trust him, couldn’t trust herself around him. He was a vampire, an undead being of the night, a nightstalker. His persuasive reaction growing between his thighs was just a primal impulse felt by all things that moved, a need that surged in even the darkest of beings. It didn’t mean he could feel. It didn’t mean he wanted her in particular. It just meant he wanted to fulfill a basic need, to find a slot in which to do so.
"Not at all," he said, tilting his head irresistibly to the side. He stopped before her. Jaden held still. He leaned forward, his face not touching her flesh as his head moved near her neck. She could feel the push of his breath on her wet skin, chilling it with the breeze of his words. "I would be happy to stand immodestly before you, as you have for me."
Jaden gasped. The audacity of him thinking she put a show on for him! That her bold, brave act of defiance was somehow in those few words torn down as an invitation to his lust. In all her years of training, she did the first thing that popped in her mind. She slapped him across the face with open palm while releasing a feminine sound of affront.
Tyr smiled, amused and unharmed. Jaden quivered before him. Pride kept her from running away. His hand lifted. Inwardly, her hips strained to press against his palm. Outwardly, she didn’t move. Without touching her, he traced the angle of her shoulder and arm. His hand rotated, letting the backs of his fingers moving past her hip, over her stomach, down the front of her thighs. It was as if an invisible demon followed him, straining inside of her skin to close the distance. His hand stopped before her womanhood, soaking in the intense heat coming from her and returning it tenfold. His fingers moved slightly and Jaden imagined she could feel him as clearly as if he pushed into her.
"Are you quite finished?" she asked, though her words shook and the forcefulness of her declaration was lost in the panting of her breath.
"If you tell me to be," he whispered. His eyes bore piercingly into her. His lips formed over his words seductively. "Or I could only be starting. Just ask me and I’ll show you untold pleasure."
Jaden had never heard the offer made in such bold terms, demanding such a clear cut answer from her. There was a confidence to him, a swarthy assurance that he could make her scream in ecstasy for hours. Jaden couldn’t ask. She never once asked with words. Usually it only took a look and then nothing was at stake. If the man refused, no harm was done. No sense of rejection or loss, because hey, it had only been a look. But with Tyr, she would have to say the words. She would have to ask him. It was something she vowed never to do. She didn’t need his attentions, handed down like a God bestowing favors on his lowly subjects.
Tyr could feel that she wanted him, as badly as he wanted her. He could feel her blood racing in her veins, pumping furiously. He could hear the rhythm of her heart in his ears. He could feel the heat radiating off of her sweet smelling womanhood. And something inside of him urged him to provoke her, to taunt her, to tease her relentlessly until she lost all self control.
Jaden waited, wishing he would just force himself on her so she could pretend to protest. Then later, she could hate him for doing it to her. She could take the pleasure and retain the pride.
Tyr’s mouth came forward, his eyes closed as he narrowed in on her neck. Jaden’s head fell to the side, unafraid of his bite. Her skin begged to be touched, to be set free of all her damnable principles. Her eyes met with the bed. Her body instantly wanted to test the softness of it, to test the strength of the chains against their thrusting weight.
"Ask," his breath urged, causing gooseflesh to sprinkle on her chest.
Jaden caught herself, knowing those were words she could never utter. She could never beg a vampire into her bed. He was the enemy.
"I’m cold," she whispered with a stiff jerk of her head. Her eyes closed briefly and she swallowed. Tyr’s eyes rose to her in surprise. He didn’t think she would ask him. Pleasure swam unexpectedly in him, anticipating her acceptance of him. His body lurched with need. Jaden bit her lip, before saying faintly, "Could you hand me a towel so I could get dressed?"
Tyr felt as if a boulder landed on his immortal head. His face became a hard mask, blocking all emotion from her. With a tense nod, he smiled through his tightly pressed lips. Disappointment coursed inside his arduously tested loins.
Tyr strode past the towel, not handing it to her. Instead, he went to the corner of the room. Picking up her duffel bag, he dropped it on the bed. Turning to her, he said, "I brought this along. I saw Rick going through it and knew it was yours."
Jaden paled. Her eyes darted to the bag. The way it landed, she could tell the papers were still in there. Had Tyr looked inside? Had he seen the papers tucked within the hollowed out book? Eyeing him carefully she nodded. By the impassive look on his face it was hard to tell if he knew what was hiding within.
Observing her with a vacant look, Tyr disappeared in a blink. Jaden gasped, holding her breath as she looked around the room. He was gone. With shaking fingers, she carefully rinsed the drying soap from her tingling body before stepping gingerly from the tepid water. Wrapping the linen around her still sensitive skin, she tiptoed over to peek into the living room. Tyr was nowhere to be seen.
Jaden couldn’t stop trembling as she pulled her bag from the bed. Pressing it to her chest, she hauled it into the prison. She dressed hastily, pulling on the clothes with a haphazard grace. Then, hair still clinging to her back from inside her shirt, she pulled out the book from the bottom. The latch was still caught, but that didn’t mean anything. The papers weren’t as neatly stacked, but they could’ve been jostled in travel. Jaden shivered, pulling the little note describing Tyr into her pocket. Maybe he couldn’t even read French, but there was one way of finding out.
Concealing the book beneath her clothes, she shoved the bag into the dark corner. If Tyr hadn’t seen the documents, she would make sure it stayed that way. She wouldn’t condemn Mack to the vampire council’s judgment. For a moment, she considered burning the documents in the bedroom fireplace. But something stopped her. She had to know the truth for herself. And somehow, some way, she had to find a way to escape the prison Tyr kept her in.
Chapter Eight
The fire rustled pleasantly before the stone couch. Surprising to Jaden, the cushions provided ample padding to the stone and she was induced to snuggle into their depths. She rested her head on a thick pillow, hugging another to her stomach as she lay halfway over and awaited Tyr’s return. It did occur to her that she could try and escape despite his warning of getting lost, but she knew Tyr would never have left her if escape was possible.
Even if she did manage to find her way from the cave, she had no idea where she was. She could be in a crypt below some mausoleum in New York, or she could be in the middle of Arkansas in Ozark country. One phone call and she could ask Mack to come and get her. But she wasn’t ready to call her uncle, not until she figured out what was in the file.
Part of her tried to admit she stayed because she was drawn to Tyr. She hated the small voice and squelched it instantly before it could give birth to other ideas. Her body stung with resentment at being so thoroughly aroused and then neglected. But her mind knew it was for the best. When the pleasure had faded, she would only hate herself for being weak. Tyr could feel nothing for her. She detected the void of his emotions within him and never had the curse of her gifts been such a burden. To know that he could never prefer her over another, that he could never pick her, pricked irritatingly at her insides. But it made it easier too. She knew not to expect anything from him.
"I am a job," she reminded herself. "And I have a job to do."
When had her job become secondary? She must have been cooped in his home longer than she thought. She needed to get out. The tomblike walls of the cavern beat into her, blocking out all outside conflict and allowing her to focus within. With sudden insight, she sat up. That was it. She couldn’t feel anyone else but herself and Tyr. And reading Tyr’s emotions were like communicating with a rock. He was empty.
It was the first time in her life that she couldn’t sense outside herself and she wasn’t sure she was ready to go where her emotions led her. The walls of the cave pressed in on her senses. The stone was too quiet, the fire becoming too loud.
"I got to get out of here," she whispered, rising to her feet. She panted and panicked. Her senses reeled to pick up something other than herself. Her eyes darted around to the brown door. Warning or not, she had to try. Why was she hesitating? Where had all her fight gone? The question was answered with the calm accent of a bored voice.
"Where are you going?"
Tyr moved so stealthily that she didn’t know he was there. Chills racked her spine as she spun around. He was behind her. The panic subsided the moment she saw his calming eyes.
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked with an undercurrent of wonder, trying to remember what she muttered under her breath. She really needed to stop talking aloud to herself. It was bad enough the Tyr could read most of her thoughts anyway, without her saying them aloud for him.
"Why?" he said effortlessly. His face showed no strain of their previous encounter. His blue orbs were as clear as a summer sky but with none of the gentle promises. When she didn’t answer, only stared, he lowered his words to a murmur, "Why? Did you miss me, princess?"
Jaden groaned, rolling her eyes heavenward. She refused to answer his baiting. Ruefully, she wrinkled her nose and met his jeering expression with one of her own. Her words dripped wryly out of her mouth. "No, I just wondered how many hapless New Yorkers you managed to kill."
Her eyes searched his, waiting and hoping for him to slip and tell her where she was. Tyr placed his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over to press his face towards hers. She hoped he might kiss her, but instead his lip twisted into sinister darkness.
"That would be difficult," he said lowly, "even for me."
"Then…?" she began discreetly. Her eyes hid beneath the silken length of her dark lashes.
"If you want to know, Miss MacNaughton, ask." Tyr moved around the back of the couch, sitting easily on his chair before the fire. Leaning back in repose, he watched her expectantly. His fingers steepled, tapered fingernails meeting beneath his chin. Jaden met the challenge in his gaze. Would he never give her an inch?
"Fine," she seethed, sitting back down to face him. "Where are we? And for God’s sake quit calling me Miss MacNaughton. It is very annoying."
"All right, princess." He shot her a charmingly arrogant grin. His voice was so seductive and soft, low and erotic. Jaden knew he was using the pet name to aggravate her. It did a good job of that, as was evident by the chill of pleasure that worked its way up her spine.
"So?" she hissed, distracted, shaken that she could feel him as if he were pressed against her.
"We are in my homeland," he murmured quietly. His eyes watched her face. They didn’t seem as cold as before. Maybe he found peace from the raging feelings of others in his home. Jaden only found insecurity. It was hard to be left alone with herself after a lifetime of other people.
"Homeland?" Jaden screeched in sudden weariness. Her wide eyes looked around her as if the stone walls could answer her. "I don’t understand. Are you trying to make a joke? You mean in the grave?"
"It’s called Norway now," he said with a smirk, amused by the look on her beautifully puzzled face.
"Norway? As in the country Norway?" Jaden’s mouth gaped open in skepticism.
"Mm," was the only reply.
"But how?" Her mouth worked violently, near speechlessness. "Th--that isn’t possible. I--I...."
"You what?" he prompted arrogantly, helping her along.
"I--I," she stuttered again.
"Oh, you mean that your lover only drugged you once and you don’t remember the journey over here." Tyr hid his bitterness at the words. He looked thoughtfully at his hand, wondering for the hundredth time why he hadn’t let the man die.
"Yes," Jaden frowned at his offhanded reference to Rick. Not wanting to deal with that topic right now, she said, "You couldn’t have gotten me here in one night."
"You’re right," he said, undaunted by her pale face and growing anger beneath the surface of confusion. What did bother him was that she didn’t deny her relationship with the mortal he’d allowed to live. "I didn’t. But I did keep you locked in your drugged state, so to speak, until we did arrive--a little over a week later. Do you not remember lying with me in my coffin, eating fruit from my hand?"
"I’ve been gone for nearly two weeks?" she said incredulously, not daring to think of the erotic images he put into her head with that last remark. She closed her eyes briefly, before growling, "Are you mad, vampire? My uncle will be searching for me. He will find you. Two weeks…?"
"Nearly," he chuckled, absently leaning his temple on his fingers. His eyes glanced so quickly over her that she didn’t see them move. She was lovely. "No, princess, you’ve been gone for well over two weeks."
"What?" Jaden shook her head. Holding out her fingers she began adding days on her fingers in an exaggerated manner for his benefit. "Check your math, immortal. One week to get here, four days in pr--"
"Eight," he inserted coolly for her, "not counting tonight."
Jaden ambled to her feet in anger. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared, "You kept me locked up in that prison for eight days! Are you insane?"
Not to be outdone, Tyr stood, gracefully towering over her to his full height. The suddenness of it caused Jaden to step back so she didn’t ram into his rock-hard chest.
"Now, princess," he tried to soothe.
"Argh!" she yelled, shaking her fists in fury. "Quit calling me princess!"
"All right, sweetheart," he began, moving as if to touch her face. She jerked back from him and he let the hand drop. His eyes bore mischievously into hers.
"No."
"Sweetling?"
"No!"
"Darling?"
"No!"
"Baby?"
"No!"
"Ma chère," he whispered with a cocky half smile forming his mouth. He was thoroughly enjoying her anger.
"No, no, no!" she shrieked. "I am not your girlfriend or your lover or your anything! I am your hostage. Treat me as such!"
Tyr met the contempt in her gaze. Lowering his jaw, he leaned forward. His eyes glittered dangerously. His lips parted, revealing his fang points. Jaden took an involuntary step back and then another. Tyr was fast behind her, pursuing her on feet that glided more than walked.
"Shall I show you, Jaden," he questioned on a low growl, her name sounding more intimate than his other half-hearted endearments. "Shall I show you how I was raised in my human days to treat female prisoners? Men were not like you know now. We took what we wanted without consequence. We conquered nations, villages and even women. Would you like me to show it to you, Jaden? Would you like to be conquered?"
"You’re not a man
," she said weakly. "You’re a vampire."
"Ah, but I am a Dark Knight," he whispered. His low words were a dangerously seductive call to her very core. She trembled violently with need. "And I still know all my lessons. My warrior instincts have been honed and trained over the last thousand years. Is that what you want? You want me to show you the nature of the beast, the nightstalker, the Nordic warrior?"
Jaden shivered at the very notion, not completely adverse to its implications. But the obscurity in his gaze stopped her from answering. Coming to the end of the couch, she spun around intent on fleeing. Tyr caught her before she even reached his bedroom door. His hands twined around her elbows in a forceful grip, holding her steady. His words rasped low and hot and sharp along the back of her ear.
"Why are you running, prisoner?" he growled, rumbling with the thundering hooves of a thousand rampant mustangs. "Isn’t this what you wanted? I offer you civility and you scoff at it. So should I grant you your wish, Jade? Should I act like the beast you insist on thinking me?"
"Please," she begged softly, frightened and aroused by his power. She hated being out of control. Even with Rick things happened when and how she wanted them to. No man ever had the strength or the skill to overpower her. But this vampire behind her held the demonic power of a devil and the heart-stabbing physique to back it up. His soft, firm grip held her steadfastly with the gentleness of steel. And it was the nature of that very gentleness she found impossible to fight.
"Please?" he repeated softly, turning her word from a plea to a seductive whimper. His breath caressed the back of her ear.
Jaden stiffened. His arms pulled her into his chest. She could feel the fiery length of him pressed along her back. His hands were warm as if he had just fed. When she would pull away, he stepped forward, forcing her into the stone of the wall. Her breasts met with stone, flattening as her cheek was forced to turn to the side.
The Jaded Hunter Page 14