Domiel

“You’re going to get some rest. You trained all day the day before, went through a thrashing from Jade, hopped a red-eye that I know you remained awake for, fought me, and then went to the club, where you were injured with only four-or-so hours of rest.” He squeezed her thigh when she started to speak. “I know you don’t have much time. Sleep and let your body heal itself. I’ll keep watch.”

  She fell silent, as if she were mulling over the idea of letting her guard down around him. “No.”

  “Kels, I’m not going to fight you on this. You can trust me.”

  “Fine. Only if you agree to wake me in two hours, max. Otherwise, no.”

  Knowing her stubbornness would keep them both from sleep, he agreed with her. “Okay. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll keep watch.”

  He felt her hesitancy, so he added, “I’ll be right here. You can lie on the couch. I’ll go get a blanket.”

  She seemed to relax, so he left to get a blanket off the bed in the master room. It was thick, and would keep her warm. He slid the comforter off the bed and by the time he’d returned to the living room, she was already curled on her side and asleep.

  What she’d needed wasn’t more sleep. She needed blood to heal, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to offer.

  He wasn’t even sure she’d accept.

  Chapter Seven

  Darkness wrapped around her, a shroud meant to quiet the mind and heartbeat, yet raise awareness. It smothered her. Unknown entities swirled around her, agitated and powerful. She was unable to form a stable link to anyone using her powers. The entities suppressed and sapped the energy from her soul until all she wanted to do was give into their darkness.

  She’d been able to connect with Lexie for a few moments, just long enough to send a get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here message. Too bad the here was her own body.

  The demonic spirits whispered her private fears to her, over and over again. They teased her with their knowledge of secrets she’d thought were long buried. They chanted her daughter’s name until she screamed for release.

  Elspeth, Elspeth, Elspeth…

  Images of her daughter’s ravaged body assaulted her, her once shining blond hair, now dirty and matted with blood. The pale, bluish tone to her once vibrant skin.

  No. She’d locked those memories away. She’d focused on a time when her baby had been full of life, full of energy. Before the castle had been attacked. Before everyone in her family had been massacred and left for dead. Before immortality had been forced on her by an unconscionable beast.

  There were so many spiritual demons inhabiting her body, propelling her back to memories she didn’t want to relive. Memories that took her breath and her soul. Memories of her daughter and her untimely death.

  She fought them. She screamed at them. “You’ve no right! Leave my baby alone! Leave my child be! She’s gone … she’s gone…”

  She lost track of time as the spiritual demons ravaged her mind with her own tortured memories and unrelenting screams. Just when she’d given up hope of ever silencing their taunts a hush settled in her mind. One beast stood before her. An evil so complete that he alone calmed the voices of the damned. Eyes as blue as the sky on a clear Highland afternoon, cold as a northern winter, he stood and stared at her. She could no more ask him questions than she could turn away from him. His features, his height, his clothing were all etched into her brain. If he could invade her thoughts while she was held captive by the demons, he could reach her anywhere.

  The big palms that rested at his side were rough and cold. After centuries, she could still recall the feel of those hands abrading her flesh. He got off on hurting people. Her screams on that fateful day had made him climax.

  “Soon.”

  The word remained the same, after all these years.

  He alone calmed the voices of the damned. They were scared of him, too. She hated herself for wanting him to stay. She hated him and what he’d done with every cell of her body, but she cleaved to him, utterly weak and disgusted with her own actions, but unable to stop herself.

  “Kelsey?”

  Strong arms came around her, suppressing her, holding her immobile just as the spiritual demons had done. She pushed away with everything she had. Needed to breathe. Needed air. Struggling to get free proved useless. This time, instead of the fight taking place within her body, the resistance came from outside forces.

  And then she realized where she was, that her vision was back, and Domiel was rocking her, his hand running over the back of her head in a soothing gesture. For a moment she became lost in the security of his arms and allowed herself the freedom of just being held. She quit fighting. Fresh from her nightmare, she recalled the strong desire of wanting to hold her baby in her arms, alive and well, and tell her everything would be all right. Instead she’d been turned into a creature of lore, and had never seen her daughter again.

  She’d never had the chance to give her daughter a proper burial.

  The absolute shame that she’d desperately clung to a demon who’d raped her—who’d stood by as her daughter had been murdered—washed over her. God, she’d begged him to stay!

  Feeling humiliated and angry, she pushed away from Domiel. After a nightmare she always felt raw, and she never wanted to deal with people. The shame and embarrassment were fresh as when she’d been possessed.

  A few rays of light fell across the living room carpet. “What time is it? How long did you let me sleep?”

  He stared at her long and hard, as though he, too, knew her secrets. But that was impossible. No one did, not even Lexie. Finally he spoke. “Who is Elspeth?”

  She went rigid once again, damning herself for being so pathetic. After a few moments he said quietly, “You needed your rest.”

  The hell she needed her rest. She needed to be out searching. She didn’t want to analyze the disappointment in his tone, either. Memories always brought her to her knees, but they also triggered her anger. “I’m going to make something to eat, and then we’ll figure out the next move.”

  He nodded. “I’ll check the news. See if they mention that club we were at. If they had cameras they’ll know what we looked like.”

  “Sure.” She pushed herself from the couch and rolled her shoulders. For the past few months she’d woken up stiff from all of the training she’d done, so she should be used to it by now.

  She found a loaf of bread, slapped a few pieces in the toaster, and leaned heavily on the counter.

  She’d never woken from a nightmare and had someone comfort her. She could still feel the heat of his skin, as though the memory of touching him were etched in her brain. Any and all comfort she’d ever attained after her nightmares had come from quiet solitude. It wasn’t so much as a time to reflect on memories she’d long buried, but a time to focus on those individuals she’d defended throughout her years as an assassin. The innocence of her species. The innocent humans who couldn’t defend themselves against vampires or demons. It was best to focus on the good.

  To think of nightmares long past did nothing but take her breath away.

  Domiel’s holding her made her think of other things in the aftermath of her nightmares. Desire hadn’t sparked at his nearness, not after reliving the horrid past, but a sense of relief had overcome her, as though she could lean on someone. Her only desire had been to snuggle deeper into his warmth. God, when was the last time she’d snuggled with a man? Had she before? She honestly couldn’t recall.

  “Uh, Kels? You might want to come look at this.”

  Taking a moment to compose herself, she buttered toast for him and her. No doubt they’d caught them on camera. She left the kitchen with her nerves jittering and her stomach lodged in her throat. In the middle of handing him the plate, she froze, seeing a picture of both Sven and Roger on a security camera. Sven held a large black canvas bag. A scrolling red news alert highlighted the bottom of the TV.

  The Ken-doll anchorman, stoic and humorless, was speaking French in a serious tone. “Two men suspected of carr
ying a bomb late last night are being held for questioning. Heathrow International Airport went on lockdown around eleven last night. No bombs were found, though sources say weapons were discovered. The two women who alerted security are wanted for questioning. One was described as a blonde wearing all leather, the other as a tall woman with auburn hair.” A fuzzy video snapshot of Lexie and Jade flashed on the screen from one of the many security cameras. “If you have any information on either, please contact your local police department.”

  “Good Lord. I should have known.” She sat on the couch next to him.

  “I told you Alexia doesn’t think before she acts.”

  “Well, she got out of there, didn’t she?” Alexia was a bit crazy, but it was the kind of crazy that worked as an assassin.

  Kelsey needed to get her ass in gear. She was used to having a name and an address to start with, but here she was flying blind. “Wait.” As her friends’ pictures flashed off the screen they brought her an idea. “If there were security cameras at that club we were at, it would have captured the shooter. I wonder why that’s not on the news?”

  “The police would have been called. The tape will be there. But there’s no need. I saw the male who took a shot at you.”

  He what? “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

  He shrugged and looked away from her. “You needed your rest. It was a vampire, not a demon. He had on a black, nondescript baseball cap, blond hair peeking out of the bottom, and his energy level was low, as if he were newly transformed.”

  She bit her lip and tried to remember anyone that resembled that description. Blond hair. Male vampire. “I’m drawing a blank.” She looked back at Domiel as he averted his eyes.

  “Who have you pissed off lately?”

  He was lying through his teeth. He knew something. “It could be more than that. He might have been hired by someone else. Did you get a handle on his specific brand of energy?”

  “You don’t need to worry about him.”

  “Well, I can connect with Alexia, see what she knows.” It wasn’t quite square one, but it was damn close.

  “He’s dead, Kelsey, I killed him.”

  She absorbed what he’d said while quietly looking at him. He met her gaze, but didn’t elaborate. His first kill.

  Can’t think about that now. She sat forward on the couch and put her forehead in her palms. Damned if she didn’t, damned if she did; her days were numbered. She couldn’t run from the Alliance forever, and it was looking as though clearing her name was going to take longer than anticipated. The Alliance was moving fast, which meant they had concrete evidence of her guilt.

  She felt the pressure of Domiel’s warm palm against her lower back. He didn’t say anything, only offered comfort.

  And for the second time in mere minutes, she accepted it.

  She settled back into the crook of his arm and closed her eyes. The TV went quiet, and then Domiel’s arms wrapped around her.

  Being an assassin allowed her to take her anger out on those who hurt individuals weaker than themselves. Every kill represented her daughter’s killer. Every assassination had tamed her a little more. Still, after all these years and countless assassinations, she’d never found peace.

  Domiel wanted to know how people could sacrifice themselves for others? She’d always wanted to know how people could kill innocent children without mercy or thought.

  She focused on the simple pleasure of Domiel’s fingertip making lazy circles on her forearm. She had to clear her name, connect with Lexie, approach the Alliance with the truth, and there she sat, enjoying the simple touch of the male who was tasked with her assassination.

  * * * *

  Domiel had never felt more at ease than he did in that moment, holding Kelsey. The house was silent, the soft rays of light falling on them through the window. What would it be like, to have a family with Kelsey? Children running around? But they would never have children. Vampires couldn’t have them and demons were forbidden to.

  Back at the Alliance Headquarters, the activity never stopped, even at night. Hell, especially at night for him.

  The respite was nice, and made even better by Kelsey’s heat.

  The softness of her skin intoxicated him. In his past encounters with the opposite sex, he hadn’t the time to focus on the softness of their skin, or the flowery scent of their hair. Things had moved too fast for minor details, and he’d never really cared. With her he wanted to prolong every touch. He desired to be near her, not just inside of her. He enjoyed her company.

  Kelsey moved in his arms, resting the back of her head on his lap, her legs stretched out on the couch. “I’m going to connect with Lexie now.”

  He brushed her hair from her face, a gesture that seemed oddly instinctual. That she trusted him enough to connect with another person while in his arms changed everything. She would get out of this ordeal safe and sound. Damn Ambrose and his threats.

  “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  She cocked a brow, held his gaze for a few seconds, and then closed her eyes. Her body immediately went limp, her features softening.

  She shifted slightly, and his gaze focused on her face once again. Full, parted lips. Beautiful skin, no blemishes. Her blond hair held the slightest bit of curl. He’d likened her to an Angelic Virtue before, and up close he found that she outshined them. There was no doubt in his mind she’d been sought for her beauty by countless men. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, and he knew her to be centuries old, which meant she must have been wed when she was human. Back in the medieval age, women rarely hit their late teens without having been wed. A male had undoubtedly cherished her.

  Perhaps she’d had that family life he yearned for before she’d been turned.

  She stirred, drawing his attention. She opened her eyes, and pushed away from him without a word. There was that blank look clouding her features, just like the one she’d worn after talking to Ambrose. Obviously, she’d learned something just as disturbing.

  “Kelsey?”

  She ignored him and walked into the kitchen, her movements slow and strange. He briefly wondered if he should leave her alone or comfort her. Something told him to go to her.

  He leaned against the entrance to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, contemplating what he could say. Her back was to him as she stood facing the large picture window. She remained silent, and he didn’t have the heart to ask her what she’d learned.

  Jerky movements took her to the countertop. She slipped a large butcher knife from its place in a wooden holder. He straightened, every nerve on alert. “What are you doing?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead she raised the knife with both her hands and pointed it at her chest.

  He moved as fast as his demonic powers enabled him, but he didn’t make it to her in time.

  * * * *

  Kelsey awoke to sharp, immobilizing pain. A deep, commanding voice was shouting her name over and over again. Warm liquid coated her chest, its metallic scent stinging her nose, making her fangs elongate. Her limbs were heavy, and she was disoriented. Domiel kneeled next to her, pressing down on her chest, hurting her.

  “Stop … please…” Her plea came out as a whisper. The rookie knew nothing about assassination. Why not just cut off her fucking head? She closed her eyes against the pain and gritted her teeth to keep from moaning. The face of the incubus who’d haunted her connection with Lexie flashed behind closed lids.

  “Kels, stay awake, do you hear me? Open your eyes!”

  She barely managed to crack her lids open, but she did so because of the strength in his voice. She’d never heard him command someone’s compliance as he was doing now. He’d never taken training seriously, so she’d never taken him seriously.

  So easy to forget he was a demon. A somewhat trained killer. She flinched when he pressed harder against her chest, making it difficult to breathe. It was then that everything came back to her. The familiar demon in her dream had controlled her actions,
and she’d wrapped her hands around the handle of a kitchen knife. In the dream realm. Had she been mimicking the actions in real life as well? How the hell could he make her do that?

  “I know for certain who’s framing me,” she said weakly.

  “The bleeding is slowing, but you’ll need to feed. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  She hadn’t fed in weeks. Her body was battered, and she’d need to take from him. Rumor had it he wasn’t thrilled with the notion. Kelsey recalled a female talking about it. He’d flat out told her, Hell no.

  But she had no choice, and they both knew it.

  “I’m sorry. I know … you don’t…” It was difficult to draw breath.

  She focused on Domiel. His brows were drawn as he tended to her wound. A wound she’d been forced to inflict upon herself. Her thoughts drifted to the demons who’d been forced to kill themselves, and she felt their pain. The realization that Ambrose and the heads of the Alliance believed her capable of doing such things to innocents hurt more than her wounds.

  “Your gash has closed somewhat. I’m going to lift you up and take you to bed.”

  “If I had a nickel … for every time … you’ve said that to a woman.”

  He slipped his arms underneath her legs and back and lifted her gently. “If only I had a nickel for every time you were hurt.”

  She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The movement stole her breath. Somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom, she finally found her voice. “Oh, God, don’t make me laugh.”

  Fine time for him to show his sense of humor. He had a knack for that. Absolutely nothing was funny at the moment. She wasn’t safe when she was awake, and she sure as hell wasn’t safe when she slept or connected with another. Between the Alliance and the incubus, she didn’t stand much of a chance.

  Her chest was on fire. “How many times did I stab myself? Hell, I’ve been stabbed before … but this is something else entirely.”

  “It wasn’t the number of times you stabbed yourself. I think it was the twist you gave the knife.”

  She grimaced. Oh yeah, my famous twist. How could I have forgotten? She sank into the bed when he set her down, but she couldn’t draw comfort from the plush mattress—not when her body was so tense with pain.