“Ahhh . . . no, no, I have not.” She had crossed the Atlantic Ocean exactly two times in her life, once to get to Italy, trying to outrun the Hunters, and once to return home to the States when it was obvious that running would do no good. She’d loved Italy, especially Rome, but being in such a beautiful city, all alone—the loneliness, the emptiness was so much worse.
Agnes patted her arm. “You should—lovely place, so full of power and strength,” she murmured. Her faded blue eyes took on a far-off look, and the smile slowly died away. “Lovely place.”
Then she blinked, shaking her head. The smile returned to her lips as she cocked her head and stared at Leandra. “My, you do look lovely, Leandra. Is Malachi treating you well?”
Leandra couldn’t suppress the snort, but she managed not to say anything else. Bastard ran her ragged, annoyed the hell out of her, and generally tried to drive her insane.
“Hmmm . . . if I didn’t know Mal, I wouldn’t know how to take that,” Agnes murmured, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “But I do know the man. You’ve managed not to kill him, though, or take a daylight walk just to get rid of him, so I’m going to assume it is going well.”
“It’s going.” That was about all Leandra would allow. Sometimes, I think it’s going straight to hell . . .
“You do look a bit tired, love. Busy night Hunting?” Agnes asked innocently. But the twinkle in her eyes had Leandra blushing. “Or maybe it wasn’t the night that has you so tired. And how is Mike doing?”
Leandra just blushed harder. Agnes smiled and reached up, patting Leandra’s cheek gently. “He’s a good man, a strong one. A kind one.”
To that, Leandra had no comment.
“Why don’t you go get some rest?” Agnes murmured, easing away. Her cane made soft, rhythmic taps on the floor as she headed down the hall. “I’ll be staying a few days. I’d love to have some time to talk.”
Not saying anything, Leandra turned around and walked toward her room.
Yeah, she was tired. Very much so. She wasn’t the only one, though. Glancing over her shoulder, she stared at the old witch’s diminutive figure.
Her head was bowed low, her frail shoulders slumping a bit more than normal. Agnes had looked tired. Downright exhausted.
Leandra had met up with the old witch several times over the past few years, and she couldn’t ever recall seeing Agnes look even a little tired. But now, exhaustion seemed to have carved even heavier lines in her face, and her eyes looked a bit more faded, her shoulders a little more slumped.
Leandra started to turn the doorknob, looking away from the other witch. But then she paused and looked back.
The air around her turned to ice, and her breath froze in her lungs.
For one second, Leandra couldn’t see Agnes.
Just a black cloud of death.
ELI’S ENCLAVE WAS NESTLED ON TOP OF A HIGH RIDGE in West Virginia, about a half hour from Huntington. It was quiet; Eli made sure it stayed that way. He took his responsibilities as Master very seriously.
He owned the mountain and much of the land around it. Vamps and shifters tended to get very territorial. Even having somebody living a couple of miles away was too close.
His territory, however, expanded beyond the land he owned. A Hunter who forged a territory established a bond with the land. Through that bond, the Hunter was aware of the land—and the people who lived on it.
Agnes studied Eli as he finished talking with his lieutenant. Jonathan was an Inherent, a shape-shifter that could shift at will. He was a bloody strong one; Agnes had only met a few that were his equal in all her years on the Council.
Right now, both of the men looked grim, and when Eli finished, Jonathan turned and headed for the door without a word. Agnes watched as Jonathan slowed for a moment by the redhead standing near the door. He reached up, cupping her cheek in his hand and arching her face toward his.
There was a poignancy and a passion in the kiss that made Agnes feel even more melancholy. Envy stirred in her heart, and at the same time, happiness. Hunters lived a hard life; it was only right that they should spend their years with a mate they loved.
Not everyone found that mate, though; Jonathan and his pretty wife, Lori, were some of the lucky ones. Too many of them still spent their lives alone.
Jonathan pulled away slowly, and as he walked away, Lori murmured quietly, “Be safe, Jonnie.”
“Something nasty is in the air,” Agnes murmured, looking at Eli with an arched brow.
“Aye, something nasty,” the blond vampire said as he lowered his long body back into the chair behind his desk. “Been drawing closer for a few days. Like smoke, faint at first, and hard to track.”
“You’ve located it?”
He nodded, turning to gaze out the window with a brooding stare. His skin was pale, his eyes the color of old golden coins, and the hair framing his lean face was every shade of gold and blond imaginable. A very attractive man; Agnes wouldn’t have thought somebody with his fair looks could make such a sexy brooder.
He’d proven her wrong, time and time again. Eli excelled at brooding.
“Stop worrying, lad,” she murmured. “Jonathan can take care of himself.”
A slow smile curved his lips up. “Aye. I know that. It’s not so much worry for him, just . . . worry. She feels young.”
“She?”
Eli sighed, shoving a hand through his hair and climbing to his feet. He started to prowl the room as he spoke. “A girl. Jonathan is going after a girl. She feels . . . wrong.”
“Hmmm.” Agnes didn’t like the sound of that. “A child?”
He glanced toward her. “I don’t know. But she’s young. And dark.”
Agnes lifted one shoulder. “Darkness isn’t always the same thing as evil, Eli. You know that as well as I do.”
Wearily, he sighed. “Yes. I do know that. And yet this girl feels—vile.”
The door swung open, and Malachi came striding in. Agnes smiled at him, lifting a hand. He caught it and bent low, pressing a kiss to it. “Nessa, love.”
“Are you being a good boy, Mal?” Agnes asked as she glanced toward the dark woman who stood behind him. “You aren’t driving Leandra mad, are you?”
With a scowl, Malachi muttered, “Indeed—that one will drive me mad.”
Eli laughed dryly. “Hard job, that. You’re quite insane already.”
Malachi didn’t respond as he moved to join Eli at the window. Long red hair was caught in a queue at the nape of his neck, and muscles stretched the black cotton of the long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. The front of the T-shirt was emblazoned with huge red letters: Bite Me.
Mal had told Agnes earlier that Jonathan’s adopted daughter had given him the shirt. “I rather like it,” he’d said.
Right now, though, the humor was gone from his eyes, the midnight blue nearly black as he brooded into the night. The stink of evil had thickened until it all but choked the oxygen from the air.
“Have you sent anybody?”
Eli flicked Malachi a glance. “Why, yes, Father. I have.”
Malachi chuckled as he turned away. “He’s been in America far too long, Nessa. See how sarcastic he is? No respect. None at all.”
Agnes just smiled. “At least he has a reason. What is your excuse, dearest?”
Malachi smiled angelically and gestured toward Leandra. “I need no other.”
Leandra bared her teeth in a smile as she flipped Malachi off. “Don’t blame me, old man.”
“See? No respect.”
Agnes chuckled. “And what should she call you? Young lad?” She lifted one shoulder. “Seeing as how you passed a millennia quite some time ago, I’d say old man is accurate.”
“And at more than a thousand years, you’d think I’m entitled to respect.”
Leandra rolled her eyes. “Respect—if people cower around him, that makes him brood. Treat him like a normal person, and he thinks it’s demeaning.”
Malachi shot Leandra a grin. “Well, I’
m not normal.”
She snorted as she dropped onto the couch, sprawling her long legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankle. “Believe me, Malachi, I am well aware of how abnormal you are.”
With a chuckle, Agnes murmured, “Oh, it’s a good thing you took her on, Mal. She’s good for you. You’re getting stuffy in your old age.”
Yes . . . a good thing, Agnes mused later as she left the vampires alone. Malachi was ancient, and the past few centuries, he’d begun to worry Agnes. He withdrew more and more, becoming so damned solitary, he often went years without talking to anybody. For a time, the Council had been forced to consider asking him if he was ready to step down.
He’d finally resurfaced, yet many of the people who had once called him friend looked at him differently. With every passing year, he grew more powerful. And power in a vamp as ancient as Malachi often translated to something that made many, many people uncomfortable.
The aura of menace he exuded had become a part of him, like the color of his eyes or his hair. Once, he’d been able to shield it, but as he aged, it became harder and harder for him to mask it completely.
And those who didn’t have to fight the need to cower in front of him too often were overcome with an urge that was just as basic: lust.
Most women were powerless against it. The sexual beckoning that emanated from a vampire was known simply as the call. It increased with age, and Malachi’s . . . well, Agnes had been around him, just once, nearly three centuries ago without her shields up. Simply being near him had been almost orgasmic. She never went around him again without low-level shields in place.
Unless a woman was bonded, a true soul bond, like the one Jonathan and Lori shared, or Eli, with his warrior witch, Sarel, she was almost helpless in the face of it.
Unless, of course, she knew to shield against it.
It must be lonely, Agnes thought, having damn near everybody regard you as either death incarnate . . . or sex personified.
So, yes. Leandra was definitely good for him.
Before she had been Changed, she’d been a witch. Usually, the two canceled each other out. A witch rarely survived the Change. Leandra had, though. A strong woman, Leandra was. She’d come through the Change not only intact, but powerful. Even as a vampire, she wasn’t cowed by Malachi. Many vampires couldn’t stand to be around the bastard, simply because of the power he exuded.
There were a select few, but Leandra, newly Changed, should have been more susceptible. Perhaps it was the magick in her veins that made her different. Not only was she mostly unaffected by his presence, she completely lacked the deferential attitude he had become accustomed to dealing with.
Leandra was exactly what Malachi needed.
A friend. Somebody that wasn’t intimidated by him and a woman that wasn’t overcome by the urge to strip herself nude in front of him.
A friend—Malachi had far too few of them. Agnes. Eli. Perhaps Tobias, although the shifter who had served the Council for three hundred years was as much a loner as Malachi, if not more. Centuries old, and Malachi could probably count those he called friend with one hand.
Agnes just prayed that Malachi let those friends in when he needed them.
CHAPTER THREE
Leandra woke after a dark, dreamless sleep that lasted about four hours. She climbed out of her bed, feeling refreshed, energized . . . and ready.
There was something in the air.
Whatever it was, it sucked the oxygen from the air, and as Leandra dressed, a sense of foreboding washed over her.
She left her room, heading toward Malachi’s quarters. There would be no Hunting tonight. He’d informed her earlier that it was time to focus on . . . other areas.
Other areas. Leandra had no idea what that meant, but with Malachi, she could be looking at a night of sheer boredom as he droned on about responsibilities. Or possibly a night of sheer exhaustion as he pushed her beyond her physical limits. A night of mental anguish was also not out of the question. Malachi had a knack for knowing just which buttons to push to make her feel. He knew exactly how to bring out the emotions she tried so hard not to acknowledge.
So it wasn’t a big surprise that she felt like taking off. But if she did, he’d just find her and drag her back. Malachi had that internal radar that usually only belonged to the territory’s Master. He sensed the vampires around him. It was really pretty damned unfair. If she wanted to get away from him and be sure he wouldn’t show up, she’d have to vacate the area entirely.
Before she could knock, he opened the door.
The devilish glint in his eyes had her sighing, and tension gathered at the base of her skull as she stared at him.
Well, now she knew it wasn’t going to be lectures. And it wasn’t going to be any of the emotional trips that bastard was so adept at pulling. Leandra grimaced and imagined the aching muscles she’d have in a little while.
She might be as strong as damned horse now, but even horses could drop from exhaustion.
Malachi grinned as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. He stepped outside, closing the door behind him and offering his arm. That old-world charm of his was so at odds with the sadistic streak that ran through him.
Leandra slid her hand inside the crook of his arm after she’d bolstered her shields.
It was going to be a very, very long night.
MIKE HEARD THE SOUNDS OF STRUGGLE COMING FROM the training center.
Eli’s enclave wasn’t as big as some, but with nearly two dozen Hunters in residence, the average workout room wasn’t going to cut it. The training center was actually two gyms, one for the day walkers, and one for the vamps, each one equipped with weights, treadmills, stationary bikes, and heavy bags—an exercise buff’s dream come true.
But there were also huge mats spread out over the floor for sparring. The walls displayed more weapons than the average person could name. Everything from ancient claymores to chain whips to fighting knives.
There were also indoor and outdoor shooting ranges and an armory that was packed with more firepower than the local SWAT team possessed.
It was the sparring area that was being used now. Even before he opened the doors, he knew who was in there. Malachi and Leandra.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. With his back propped against the wall, Mike watched as the woman he loved went flying through the air, landing by the wall in a boneless pile. She was silent for a long moment and then she moaned as she sat up.
Her amber eyes flashed as she glared at Malachi. She shoved herself to her feet and braced her back against the wall. Leandra never even looked toward Mike as she pushed off the wall and stumbled back onto the mat. Malachi smiled at her.
That innocent smile was all the warning she had before Malachi dematerialized. Mike could sense the vampire vaguely. Even when they shifted from their mortal forms to mist, the gifted could still feel their presence.
The problem was, it became impossible to pinpoint just where they were. It was a damned good thing not all Master vamps acquired the ability. It would have made battling the ferals a little harder.
Leandra stared all around with wary eyes, one hand clenched in a tight fist. The air tensed for a split second—and then Malachi re-formed behind her, pouncing on her and taking her to the ground. He had one wrist in his hand, shoving it high between her shoulder blades.
“You were a little bit quicker that time,” Malachi said with a laugh. He let go and leaped up, moving away as she came to her feet with a snarl.
“Damn it, you are a sadist.” Finally her eyes moved toward the door, lingered on Mike for a moment.
He smiled at her but stayed by the door.
“And you’re sluggish tonight.” Malachi went after her again, staying solid this time, as they grappled. It took less than two minutes for him to have her on the ground, and he got her pinned and tapped at her breastbone. “That’s all it takes, Leandra,” he said easily.
Her eyes narrowed. “And this is
all it takes.” Fire came licking out of her flesh, but it didn’t seem to affect her—reaching for Malachi.
Malachi moved too fast even for Mike’s eyes to track.
Leandra grinned as she rolled to her feet. “I’m sorry—was that too sluggish?”
Mike was chuckling as he slid back out the door. The moon rode low on the horizon, and stars glowed against the midnight sky. He had his own work cut out for him tonight.
Jonathan had been pulled off his regular patrol; Eli had tagged him for an assignment, and that left his grounds without eyes. And there was a father there that they were all watching with very, very close eyes, a father that spent too much of his own time watching his daughter in a way no father should.
THE SUN WAS BEGINNING TO BLEED ONTO THE HORIZON when Malachi finally decided he was done with her.
Leandra’s head was pounding, her muscles quivering, and hunger was a growling demand that sang throughout her entire system. She was ravenous. The demands Malachi had put on her body had drained her reserves, and she really needed to feed.
Unfortunately, she had absolutely no energy to go trolling, even if the sun would have granted her the time. And there weren’t many people here who’d offered her a vein, not that Leandra would have asked, anyway.
She would be okay until nightfall. Then she could go feed.
Now if she could just make it to her room . . . every damned step was agony.
“You look almost as bad I feel.”
Leandra glanced up from the floor, staring through bleary eyes at Lori as the young witch stepped out of a room. Lori closed the door behind her and slumped against the wall as she met Leandra’s eyes.
Lori’s soft green eyes were dark, angry. She looked disgusted and enraged, something that Leandra hadn’t ever associated with the steadfast Healer.
Very little upset Lori.
But she was upset now. Upset and pissed, Leandra mused as she braced one shoulder against the wall. It wasn’t the same as falling face-first into her bed, but at least she had something besides her own wobbly legs supporting her weight.
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