By enslaving every knight, forcing them to become her personal mercenaries—wraiths—they were blood-bound to complete any task they were assigned. Failure to complete an assignment triggered what some called a madness fueled by excruciating pain and offset by a mindless bloodlust.
According to her brothers, it was like watching a monster take over, swallowing the man and friend they knew and leaving behind a merciless, unfeeling beast. Finishing an assignment, one way or another, was the only way for Lucan to regain control.
“It all worked out,” she reminded him. Tristan’s mate had survived Lucan’s attempted assassination and was still keeping both humans and immortals in line at Pendragon’s, the bar Briana’s family ran.
“She isn’t alive because of anything I did.” He stared out at the Strip. “And the damage it caused…”
“My brothers don’t hold you responsible any more than I do.” Not entirely anyway. Lucan may have been compelled to kill her brother’s mate, but he hadn’t been the one who’d targeted her in the first place.
Wishing she could take away the regret in Lucan’s eyes, she contented herself with sharing the view. He glanced at her, but she kept her eyes trained on the neon lights and traffic moving below.
She wasn’t sure when she’d noticed his presence seemed to soothe the wildness inside her, but as much pleasure as she took in his proximity, she’d give anything to go back to how things used to be between them.
To a time when he didn’t go out of his way to avoid meeting her eyes and move so carefully, as though the thought of even accidentally brushing up against her was too much for him to stand. To a time when he’d been no more than her brothers’ friend—long before she’d ever wished things could be different between them.
Cian’s numerous stories of Lucan, before the knight had become another of Rhiannon’s victims, had laid the groundwork for a crush that had taken Briana by surprise. She hadn’t yet come into her immortality when they’d met centuries ago.
Their paths hadn’t crossed again until a few months ago, and not once in all that time had she stumbled across eyes such a haunting green or a smile that so tempted both woman and cat.
Lucan had nearly killed Tristan’s mate—making him persona non grata with her family—and that may have affected how he behaved when he was around Briana, but it was far more complicated than that for her.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you planning on running any more tests?”
“Probably.”
“Alone?”
She arched a brow. “I think I can handle a few glamours. I’ve been a big girl for a few centuries now.” She crossed to her laptop but something made her look over her shoulder at him. Was he staring at her ass?
His eyes snapped to hers, that familiar granite expression sliding effortlessly back into place right—but not before she imagined a flash of unchecked desire that she felt all the way to her toes.
“Lucan.” His name was out before she figured out what she wanted to say—what she’d let herself say.
“Say hi to Cian for me, Briana.” He didn’t waste time with goodbye before walking away, his footsteps fading into nothing.
She stared at the empty doorway long after he’d gone, then forced herself to push all thoughts of him from her mind and finish her work—a task made increasingly difficult with every chance encounter.
By the time she was satisfied with the system—which took her twice as long as it should have—she’d lost interest in fiddling with anything in the control room. She needed to get out of here, someplace she could run. She’d been ignoring the needs of her animal half nearly as long as she’d been burying herself in work, and the cat felt more on edge than ever.
It didn’t help that the ride down to the hotel’s underground parking lot took forever with guests hopping on and off at every other floor. Next time she’d remember to use Mac’s private elevator. A few floors up from the parking level, a guy in an Elvis costume got on and purposely brushed up against her. Already feeling caged in, she grit her teeth at the contact, barely curbing the urge to slash out with her claws.
He did a double take as he stepped off at the lobby—probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her eyes—and then the doors closed, leaving her alone and all too aware of how close the cat was to the surface.
Closing her eyes before she made anyone else look at her a little too long, she took a deep breath, then another. The doors finally opened and she pushed away from the back wall, walking as quickly as she dared without drawing notice.
She rounded the last row of cars, and the same slow tease of awareness caressed her senses. A heartbeat later she spotted Lucan leaning against one of the cement support pillars. He wasn’t alone.
She couldn’t have continued past them if she wanted to. Not when she realized he wasn’t just talking to the curvy redhead all but plastered to his chest—he was drinking from her.
Briana Callaghan was trouble.
It was the only thought that kept Lucan from releasing his hold on the slinky redhead curled around him. He’d been reminding himself of it long before he left the penthouse and the whole elevator ride down.
Getting as far from Vegas—as far from her—as he could was his top priority until the redhead had asked him to help find her car. Forgetting where she’d parked turned out to be the least of her problems once it crossed his mind to use the mortal to satisfy the only craving he could do anything about.
With his fangs buried in the luscious spot above her collarbone, he didn’t have to think about Briana’s silky brown hair and stunning blue eyes or imagine how soft her fingers would have felt laced with his.
From the first hard draw of the woman’s blood, his senses exploded with power. He’d long ago given up fighting the nature of the beast Rhiannon had knowingly unleashed inside every wraith when she made them require blood to survive. Without it, they risked losing control of that beast that would overtake them if they failed her the way she believed they all failed her Arthur.
Rhiannon had nearly broken him in the beginning by forcing him and every other wraith to prey and feed on others to survive. It was her he imagined was weak and helpless against him in the beginning, her blood that was spilled each time he was forced to drink from another, his hatred for himself overshadowed only by his hatred for Rhiannon.
The redhead made a sound of pleasure deep in her throat and snaked her hands up his chest, clinging to him. Her blood, rich and potent, only intensified his need, his hunger. But not for blood.
He squeezed his eyes tighter, willing away the images of Briana that crowded into his mind. He didn’t want to think about her, didn’t want to imagine it was her skin beneath his lips, her fingers sliding through his hair, her soft whimpers of pleasure.
Fuck.
If not for Briana’s glamorized wraith, he wouldn’t have lingered so long. The perceived threat to her had only sharpened the razor edge he’d been riding for weeks.
He knew better than to get that close to her. Maybe once he could have risked it—nearly had—but that was a long time ago, when he’d been convinced Arthur was untouchable.
But he wasn’t that naïve any more. Whatever hope he once carried he might someday be free of Rhiannon had died long ago, right around the same time he stopped believing in the foolish prophecy that Arthur would be resurrected when reunited with his lost sword, Excalibur.
Lucan knew it was Briana coming before she rounded the row of parked cars in the underground lot. He could have easily sent the redhead on her way and been gone himself. Instead he’d stayed exactly where he was.
There was no point in denying who and what he was. He’d stayed far away from Briana after the battle of Camlann, preferring her to remember the times they’d shared before a vengeful goddess had enslaved him, turning him into the darkest version of himself.
Had he known the feelings she’d so innocently awakened a lifetime ago would resurface a hundred times more intense, he would have do
ne more to guarantee she never wanted to see him again.
Nothing good could come from a centuries-old longing that a goddess would ruthlessly exploit. Rhiannon would find a way to use it against him and wouldn’t care if Briana was hurt in the process.
It didn’t matter that her family had proven themselves by handing over two of the six mystical daggers that would supposedly lead to Excalibur. The goddess would never see reason where Arthur’s knights were concerned. Anything they valued was stripped from them, and he refused to see Briana suffer in any way because of him.
So Lucan stayed exactly where he was, his hands wrapped around the redhead, his mouth on her skin—and his gaze locked on Briana.
The darkness inside him stirred without warning, and he mentally tightened his control. It did nothing to temper the beast within that Lucan was starting to suspect had taken far too much interest in Briana.
Briana’s steps faltered, her eyes narrowing at the corners. The unveiled disgust on her face was exactly the response he had hoped for. He just hadn’t counted on it hitting him with the force of a battering ram.
The redhead sighed softly, and he slowly lifted his head from her neck, but didn’t let go of her, and he didn’t take his eyes off Briana.
With short, clipped strides, she stormed past him. She stopped a few cars down and unlocked her car with a stab of a button.
“When can I see you again?” Glassy-eyed, the redhead stared up at him, then frowned. She touched her neck. “Am I bleeding?”
Briana opened her car door, but instead of sliding behind the wheel, she shoved her stuff inside and slammed the door before backtracking. “Are you out of your mind?”
“What’s her problem?” The redhead slurred her speech a little, drunk on the venom in Lucan’s fangs that left his prey compliant. It would also soon make it impossible for her to remember their encounter.
The same venom was problematic to immortals, and in a gargoyle’s case would trigger the shift to animal and then stone. Only mated gargoyles could resist the automatic shift. At least Rhiannon hadn’t been so heartless as to leave the race’s young ones completely unprotected during the day.
Although indestructible in their gargoyle form, the shifters were also extremely vulnerable in those first moments at sundown when they broke free of the stone.
Briana surprised him by taking a menacing step toward the redhead, stopping only when the mortal scrambled backward. Her attention slid to Lucan. “Taking an awfully big risk here. Do you always feed where anyone could come along? Or would you just feed from them too?”
The redhead laughed, the loud sound echoing in the underground lot. “Feed from them?” She cocked her head. “How much has she been drinking tonight?”
Briana shoved her hands in her pockets, the casual gesture at odds with the feral expression. “Not too bright, is she?”
“Hey!”
Lucan roped an arm around the redhead’s waist before she got in Briana’s face. The sharp feline edge in Briana’s voice meant her cat was entirely too close to the surface, and letting a clueless mortal provoke her wouldn’t be smart.
“Let go.” She glanced down. “There’s blood on my dress. Why is there blood on my dress?” The panicked look on her face matched her frantic tone.
“Get him to pay for your dry cleaning,” Briana suggested and walked away. “And you should probably get a room next time. A few huntresses have taken an interest in hanging out here lately, and last time I checked even you had to abide by the same rules as the rest of us.”
He doled out punishments far more vicious than death, and she was lecturing him on staying on a huntress’s good side?
Leaving the redhead—who was already looking a little confused about what was happening—leaning against the pillar, he caught up with Briana.
“It can’t really come as that much of a surprise.”
“That you need blood, hardly. If I’m surprised by anything it’s that…” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Forget it.” She reached for her car door without looking at him.
He snagged her arm, turning her back around.
She growled low in her throat, her eyes gone completely cat. The startling blue depths blazed with a feral night glow. “I said, forget it.”
“You’re angry with me,” he ventured.
“Furious actually.”
“Why?” Revulsion he’d expected—counted on—but mad at him?
“Let go or lose an arm.”
Seeing as the tips of her claws were already visible, he believed she meant it. He still didn’t release her.
“You should go catch your snack before she faints.”
Lucan glanced over at the redhead, who was sliding down the pillar. Briana used the momentary distraction to jerk free of his hold. She wrenched her car door open and slid behind the wheel.
One step to the left prevented her from slamming the door. He searched her face, driven to figure out why she was so angry with him. He knew he shouldn’t care. Hell, he’d wanted her to go, and now there he stood blocking the way.
Fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, Briana cursed. “What do you want from me, Lucan?”
Everything. The word never made it past his lips, held there by the certainty that she would never be within his reach.
Without pressing her further, he moved back and shut the door. She stared at him through the window, a flicker of—disappointment? hurt?—blinking across her face. He stood motionless as she started the car, then turned away.
He was a few feet away when he froze, something on the air shifting.
Someone was watching them.
Chapter Two
Ass.
Briana gripped the gearshift, but didn’t put her car in reverse. She needed another second to clear her head. Probably a waste of time when Lucan’s proximity had shaken her so completely.
If she drove by and caught a glimpse of the redhead right now, she wasn’t sure she could contain the cat that wanted to shred the mortal to pieces merely for knowing the feel of Lucan’s hands on her.
Maybe it would be best if she waited for the pair to leave—
The back wheels of her car left the ground without warning, metal grating and shuddering as the hood buckled in front of her, the sound almost masking the snarl that escaped Briana.
She stared at the immortal crouched mere inches from the cracked windshield separating them. Even hunkered down, she could tell he was big. Over six and half feet tall big. His skin looked damp…and oiled? His black hair was cropped close to his scalp, making the Fae glyph tattooed to his forehead even more prominent. She didn’t recognize the cross-like shape, and since when did any Fae brand that part of their body?
The sword strapped to the Fae’s back surprised her. Most Fae, the oldest of Avalon’s immortals, tended to rely on their magic to defend themselves or on bargaining to trick their opponent into sacrificing the edge during a confrontation.
The stranger’s defined muscles guaranteed that he not only knew how to use the weapon, but that he’d had a lot of practice with it.
The Fae didn’t pay her any attention, his focus entirely fixed on Lucan. His lips curved in a chilling smile, that of a satisfied predator. He hadn’t stumbled across Lucan by accident.
He was hunting him.
The Fae leaped off her car, releasing a screeching war-cry. The unnaturally high-pitched noise made Briana clap her hand over one ear. She fumbled for the door handle with the other and shoved it open.
“Go!” Lucan was gone between one moment and the next, his phantom body dispersing and rematerializing behind the Fae that dove over the top of a parked truck to reach him.
Sensing the movement behind him, the warrior spun around, sword in hand. The glyph on his forehead pulsed as if alive on his skin.
Lucan slashed out with his claws, but his attacker dodged the blow.
“Leave, Briana. Now!”
Another screeching war cry brought her to her knees, making it impossibl
e to go anywhere even if she wanted to. The cat hissed at the ear-piercing pain right along with Briana.
The Fae needed his voice box scratched out.
The vehicle closest to her shuddered as something struck it hard enough to move it a few feet. A second later something flew over her head—the Fae?—a pained groan replacing the war cry.
Throwing herself forward, she gave herself over to her animal half, knowing she risked exposing herself. Lies could be spun to explain a black panther on the loose in the parking lot. It was Vegas, after all. Explaining away the phantom shape facing off against a sword-wielding steroid junkie would be trickier.
The momentary discomfort of bones and muscles realigning as she shifted form was over before the Fae was back on his feet. His sword came down, catching the long shadows that hovered over him. Instead of dematerializing and reappearing as she’d witnessed Lucan do before, he seemed to solidify at the blow.
Victorious, the Fae pivoted to deliver a second strike. Springing forward, Briana put as much force behind the momentum as possible, connecting hard with his chest. Her claws gouged instead of maimed, but her teeth found the meaty tendons in the warrior’s shoulder as they struck the ground.
Tearing hard, she scrambled back to her feet. The smell and taste of her enemy’s blood pulsed through her, heightening the instinct to eliminate the threat. Head low, she snarled and swung around for another attack.
A sharp kick slammed her into a parked Jeep. Pain exploded along her side, but she didn’t stay down. Lucan had gone entirely phantom again, his claws making contact this time.
The Fae howled, the sound so much worse than the war cry. Stars erupted behind her eyes at the excruciating pain slicing through her head, streaking across her vision. The ground felt uneven beneath her paws, her body hovering on the verge of shutting down to avoid the agony.
The cry was silenced a moment later. Free from the weakening chains of pain, she gave chase when the Fae pivoted to retreat between two cars. He dove over a third before ducking behind another.
Primal Temptation pg-4 Page 2