by J. M. Adele
Fuck.
The bedside table! She yanked out the top drawer, holding it on top of her still useless legs. A series of gunshots splintered the door in a deafening assault, the decapitated handle rolling across the carpet. Lanie screamed as the door swung open. A ghostly white body hunched on the floor, gun in hand. His broad shoulders were bare, sporting skin so pale it was almost translucent. The bumps of each vertebra stood out, his torso heaving as he gasped for air. Letting go of the gun, he dug his fingers into the carpet, pulling his way along. Hair the color of ice hung over his face, masking his features. But she knew his shape.
“Seth?” She adjusted her grip on the drawer, her fingers trembling and slippery with sweat. What the fuck had happened to him? This wasn’t the boy she knew. Whimpering, she tried in vain to get her legs to move. A mere twitch was the only feedback.
Her eyes darted back to his advancing form. He didn’t speak. Or lift his head. As he got closer to the bed, she noticed the glint of a small knife in his other hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think! Her feet continued to twitch as her heart rattled around in her ribcage. If she could knock him out, she’d have a chance to drag herself to safety. She threw the drawer down as hard as she could. It landed with a crack on his skull. His head dropped lower for a second before thrusting upwards. Two black pits in the place of eyes threatened to suck her in.
She screamed louder, her insides twisting in a massive knot. His hand latched onto her ankle, moving so fast she didn’t see it coming. In the next breath she was in a heap on the floor. The slash of his knife bit at her wrist, blood pumping from the wound. He locked his mouth over her wrist, her essence draining into him. With her other hand, she pushed against his head. He was too strong, even in his weakened state, not moving an inch. She fought heavy eyelids to stare as golden blond infused his hair with color, his skin slowly returning its tan. He pulled her wrist higher—sitting straighter—seeming to gain strength as she lost hers, her heartbeat reduced to a flutter. A core of ice spread its chill from deep within.
He dropped her wrist, a feral snarl coming from his lips. “I need more! Fucking succubus, she siphoned my blood. Your bitch sister is going to pay for this. As soon as she gives me what I want, she’ll die just like his mother did. And I’ll make him watch.”
Lanie’s eyes drifted shut. Splintering furniture sounded hollow in her ears before silence.
She wasn’t sure if he was gone, or if she was checking out.
She had to hold on.
Shiloh. Help me.
Prophecy
Devlin rested his forehead on Shiloh’s, gripping her a little closer.
“You—” It sounded like the words were strangling him. Puffing out his cheeks, he pulled back and looked her in the eye. “Babe . . .” Dragging the desk chair over, he urged her into the seat. “You and your sister, you ain’t exactly average.” Devlin shut his mouth, a crease forming between his brows as his dark gaze pulled her in. “My mam had a sister. She was with us the night they killed my mam. Magaidh saved me by hidin’ me away. I knew she had a son who was older than me, but I never met him. His father took him from her when he was born. He had a wife who was barren, or somethin’ like that. But she was pregnant with another child when we left. I dunno who the kid’s father was. Magaidh never married. A few days after we escaped, she died givin’ birth. The kid didn’t make it either.
“Years later, I searched for her older son. Turns out, he ended up in Spain working as a shipwright, married with a kid. You were the first female born into his lineage for more than five hundred years. The powers in your bloodline are dormant in males, but in females . . . you’re a Lilin, babe. And so is Lanie.”
The revelation plunged deep into her tissues finding every nook and cranny where her identity had burrowed, ripping it out by the roots.
“I—” She wanted to protest, but words escaped her. She blinked at his blurry form as he hovered in her line of sight. How can it be true?
“It ain’t by sheer determination that you’re the best swimmer in California.”
Shiloh’s eyes flared, heat flushing her body. I worked my ass off to be the best.
“You were popular, right? But ya didn’t go to no parties. You was always studyin’ or training. Come on, babe. You were popular ’cause people are drawn to you. Either that or your power threatens ’em. Lanie is workin’ the threatening vibe like a champ.” A smirk pulled on his lip. “But you ain’t never had a chance to develop your true abilities because Jax fucked with your mind and took hold of your body. And now he wants to do the same to Lanie.”
She shot to her feet. “No!”
“He can’t turn her until she’s sixteen.”
“We only have three weeks until her birthday!”
“I know.”
She paused, prickles skittering over her skin. What had Devlin said about his mother being a Lilin? “I thought this was about getting back at you. But he wanted me because I’m a Lilin, not because I’m your mate. That’s why he wants Lanie.”
“He took you away from me to stop me gaining full power and continuing my bloodline. But he also wanted something from you, and ’cause I took you back before he could get it, he went for your sister.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants to rule his own race. And the way he thinks he’ll do it is through creatin’ his own bloodline of crossbreeds like me.”
“He wants to . . . breed.” Her whole body revolted at the thought—her uterus cramping as if it was throwing out a hell no! She heaved, the contents of her gut spewing all over the floor.
“Fuck!” He grabbed a trash can, shoving it under her face.
She bent forward, dry-retching, her body trying to purge his repugnant words from her mind. All the times she’d shared her body with Jax, the talk of eventually having a family one day—him, more enthused than she—it spilled out over the floor.
It didn’t matter how many times she vomited, she’d never erase the fact that he’d been inside her.
Catching her breath, she swiped the back of her hand over her mouth and straightened up.
“You done?”
Shiloh nodded.
Devlin scooped her behind her knees and back, and raced up to his bathroom. Setting her on the side of the huge bath near the faucet, he turned on the water and aimed it over her legs to wash off the sick. She cupped her hands under the flow and rinsed out her mouth. He silently handed her a toothbrush and toothpaste.
He waited in silence as she finished cleaning up and dried off her legs. Wrapping herself in a towel to ward off the chill taking over her bones, she pinned him with a stare. “Is that possible? I thought you were a one-off.”
Please say no.
“Truth? I ain’t got a clue. Just ’cause some prophecy says I’m the first of a new race don’t mean it’s gonna happen. I always thought it was crap. Ain’t no way I wanted to pull you into this fucking twilight zone bullshit.”
“You didn’t want to, but here I am. We can’t ignore this. It’s happening whether we like it or not. What did the prophecy say, exactly?”
“I can’t remember the words she spoke. Somethin’ about a retribution and salvation. We were hidin’ in Dunfermline when she went into labor. My aunt told me ’bout it just before she died. Said it was written in stone before I was born; I was the salvation. That I would right the wrongs, or some shit. Fuck! I can’t remember. I was being hunted like an animal. My aunt was dying in my arms. I didn’t give a fuck about some goddamn prophecy.”
“I’m sorry. I know this must be hard, but it’s important. Did she tell you where to find the prophecy?”
“No.”
Shiloh’s shoulders dropped. “Have you ever visited their graves?”
“No. I buried ’em near the abbey in Dunfermline. I ain’t been back since.” A shadow crossed his features.
Guilt tugged on her gut. He would have been a child, burying the only family he had left while he fought to survive. There’d be memories locked
in his heart that he didn’t want to free. She could see the pain simmering in his feverish eyes. She didn’t want to be the one to use the key, but if he didn’t face his pain, he was just as much a prisoner as those memories. She knew that as well as anyone. Trapped emotions were a festering wound that threatened to consume you from the inside out.
“After my shoulder healed, I followed Jax’s trail to my mother’s grave in Edinburgh. He left me a fucked up note but ran like a chickenshit before I could deliver my reply.”
“Do you think he was looking for the prophecy?”
“My guess? He was leading me away from here so he could get to you. And I fell for it. I ain’t left you since.”
“You shut me out when Lanie went missing. You weren’t with me when I started ch—” Her mouth snapped shut.
“When you started what?”
She rubbed her forehead, forcing a breath out of her nose. “Something is happening to me. You saw what I did to Ren. You heard what happened in my room. I’m changing.”
“You’re finding your power. Lilith’s power.”
“What do you know about Lilith?”
“She was Adam’s first wife.”
“Adam? As in Adam and Eve, Adam?”
“Yeah. In the Bible, the Book of Genesis says that God created male and female at the same time. But then later on, a woman was created from his rib ’cause he was moaning about not having a suitable companion. The first female was Lilith.”
“What happened to her?”
“She didn’t kneel to Adam’s macho bullshit. She grew wings and flew the fuck out of the garden, refusing to come back. She was cursed for it. After she hooked up with pops, hundreds of her children died for her sins.”
“So she’s not a demon?”
“Adam probably thought she was.”
“How did your mother and aunt survive?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“I don’t think so. I think it has something to do with the prophecy. Your mom was meant to bring you into the world and your aunt was meant to get you to safety. I think they knew they had to sacrifice themselves.” Shiloh’s gaze dropped to her feet. Just like me. She lifted her chin, that one movement requiring more strength than she thought possible. “What happened to your dad?”
“Magaidh got me outta there before they busted down the door. I heard him yelling and my mam’s screams as we ran. We saw the smoke rising from the fire for miles.”
Shiloh didn’t say a word. She couldn’t form anything worthy of releasing from her tongue.
“After Magaidh and the baby died, I risked going home. I had to know what happened. I found her charred remains a half a mile from the cabin. There were more bodies in the cabin, maybe one of them was my da. But hers was in the field at the base of a wooden pole. I knew it was her, ’cause I found a necklace she used to wear a few feet away. They were prepped for a witch hunt. I had to bury her. I couldn’t leave her there. She didn’t get the headstone she deserved until years later. I made sure of it before I came to America.”
“You did the right thing.”
He closed his mouth, crossing his arms.
Shiloh sucked in her bottom lip, thinking back to her dream and all the blood she’d shed. “But what was my dream about? And why was I covered in Jax’s blood?”
Flames engulfed Devlin’s pupils. “I’d like to know why the fuck his blood was all over you, too.” D curled his hands into fists, the sound of bones crunching sending shivers down her spine.
“When I woke up, my head was a mess, but my body . . . felt like I’d just had a binge after starving for so long. Is it possible that he gave me his blood somehow?”
“I—fuck.” He cracked his neck, grinding his teeth. “If I think about his blood in you I’mma destroy somethin’.”
He paced across the room, his footfalls heavy enough to break some tiles. Picking up a shard, he ran the tip of his finger over the sharp point, drawing a drop of blood. Shiloh’s throat closed, her hand curling into the towel as she watched him suck it into his mouth.
Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her scarlet vision, she backed towards the door in case she needed to run. She couldn’t give in to the pull. As much as she wanted to gorge on him, it was a pleasure she’d always be denied. He threw the shard into the sink, snapping her out of her thoughts.
“The dream you had, it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.” The light behind Devlin’s eyes snuffed out.
Her lips parted with the breath leaving her lungs. It’s true. The dream was so real. “I—I think I believe you.”
“You were supposed to come to me two hundred years ago. Your parents lived in San Jose. Your mother was close to giving birth. I was keeping watch. Margo was with me.” Gripping the edge of the bench, he dropped his head. “He stabbed your mom in the stomach. We didn’t see him coming.”
“Him?”
“Jax.”
“Jax!? But he only went missing two years ago.”
Devlin rubbed a hand over his stubble, lines collecting at the corners of his eyes. “I killed him after he murdered you and your mom. I thought that was the end of it. That the prophecy was broken or somethin’. But you came back . . . and so did he.”
“Goddamn it, Devlin. What else haven’t you told me? If we’re going to save my sister and end this, we’ve gotta work as a team. You say you can’t trust anyone—why can’t you trust me? My sister’s life is on the line. I have way more to lose than you. If you keep blocking me, I will find a way past. You can’t control this.”
“I can’t lose you again.”
“I am dying. Either way, I’m dying. Don’t let it be in vain.”
Devlin’s expression crumbled, the construction of bravado toppling. He spun away, hiding his face. His shoulders seemed to bend under some great weight. A force yanked on her heart, pulling her into him. Damn, he was fighting this so hard. These moments of vulnerability were the cracks in his porcelain. They weren’t flaws, but marks of character that made him infinitely more beautiful to her. He hadn’t been pushing her away to hurt her. It was his way of padding up to reduce the impact when the inevitable blow landed.
Dropping the towel, Shiloh crossed the space between them and enfolded him in her arms. She rested the side of her face on his warm back. “Don’t shut me out.”
His chest expanded, pushing against her cheek before shuddering under her embrace.
Rough palms covered her hands, that one touch telling her more than she ever needed to know.
“I’m still here. We have now. Can’t we take what we’ve got?” Tugging on one of her arms, he pulled her around in front of him. His huge form engulfed her, strong arms lifting her off her feet so their lips could meet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, anchoring herself. Anchoring him. Cupping her butt, he walked them to the vanity and sat her on the benchtop. His arms stayed coiled around her. His face burrowed into her neck, telling her he never wanted to let her go. If she had a choice, she’d never let him. But that was fantasy. All they had was now. It was all anyone ever had. Everything else was just memories and dreams.
His fingertips slipped under the waistband of her shorts, sending tingles over her skin. One hand crept lower while the other retreated upwards, taking the edge of her shirt with it.
“I need skin.” The words were raked out over hot coals.
She indulged him, slipping off her tee. He pulled back. His bloodshot eyes roamed her body. Reaching behind his neck, he dragged his shirt over his head and dumped it on top of hers.
Oh. My. God.
Heat bloomed in her core like he’d lit her on fire. She pursed her lips, blowing out a long, slow breath. Control. She had to keep control. “How far can this go before we’re in danger?”
Please. I need . . . She squeezed her thighs together. Her desire threatened to singe her from the inside out.
“I can’t have you how I want you. But I can damn sure give you somethin’ to remember.”
They reached for ea
ch other at the same time—him burying his face in her cleavage, her fingers diving into his hair. Her bra disappeared in one skillful movement before his mouth latched onto her nipple. He lapped at her breast, his fangs guiding it home through the goal posts. And, damn, she’d scored big having him all to herself.
She ran her hands over his shoulders feeling his power coil, ready to strike. She trusted him not to unleash it. Having his fangs bracketing her sensitive nipple had her salivating at the thought of them plunging in and drinking their fill. Her fangs lengthened, ready to follow through on that fantasy. Swallowing, Shiloh threw her head back, gasping for air. She had to make sure she kept herself on lockdown, too. He was just as much at risk as she was. We still have this. Their bond was deeper than any artificially induced imitation. They’d been several lifetimes in the making. This was fate. That could never be broken.
His mouth didn’t stop as his hands slid down to the zipper of her shorts. He tugged until she leaned back on her hands. Lifting her ass, he stripped her bare. The cold, hard stone surface was a stark contrast to her soft heat, sending a shock up her spine. His fingers played along the newly exposed flesh, squeezing and caressing.
Worshipping.
He was worshipping his queen.
One finger dipped into the hollow at her throat and slowly drew a line down between her breasts, his tongue doing a chaser, straight down the middle to her hot center. She cried out as he made contact, sucking, licking, working her with his fingers. Her hands yanked at his hair, her gasps amplified and bouncing off the tiled walls. Her world tilted, and a split second later, he had her on his mattress, his shoulders pushing her thighs wide open. He was in complete command, and for once in her life, she was ready to surrender all control.
Her pleasure built, hands clawing at the sheets until a wave of exquisite sensation crested. And crested. Her body quaked uncontrollably.
She didn’t want it to stop.
She begged for it to stop.