When he realized he’d been staring at her like a lovesick adolescent, he quickly got to his feet. And cleared his throat.
She stepped back.
“Smenkhare,” he said. Which, of course, had her retreating another step.
“I have a weapon. And I know how to use it.”
He smiled. “No doubt. Did come all the way here to threaten me with your daggers again?”
She bit her lip and looked away, then seemed to realize she was biting her lip and stopped. Her lip slid out of her teeth with a wet pop. All at once, her shoulders stiffened and she took a step closer. Alaric was pleased. This meant she wasn’t going to run away from him again. Definite progress.
“You’re really going?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
She studied him. To Alaric, her midnight eyes seemed exquisite gems and not eyes at all. She was like a fine work of art.
“Mr. Roth, the plane is ready.”
They both turned to look at the man who’d come into the terminal, delivered his message, and disappeared from whence he came.
A sudden urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the plane stole over him, but he forced the impulse down. That would really go over well with the Warlord. “Well, looks like it’s time for me to go,” he said. “Does that bag hanging over your shoulder mean you’ve decided to come with me?”
“What about daylight?”
“Huh?”
“Daylight? What will you do during daylight?”
He glanced down at his watch. “Sleep.”
“Won’t you burn up or something?”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Only if someone opens all the windows in the coven house.”
He began to walk slowly toward the departure gate, such as it was, and was pleased when she fell in step beside him. As he gazed down at her, he realized how small she was. Barely reached the top of his shoulder. He couldn’t fathom why she fancied herself a warrior. Surely, the Warlord didn’t approve such folly.
“Once you’re there, how will you get around? How will you stay safe during the day? Don’t you need a protector or something? I remember seeing a movie where the vampire had a guardian. Someone to protect him—”
“Bloody hell, I’m a vampire, not a paraplegic! I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. But your concern warms me.”
He pushed open the exit door and motioned for her to step out ahead of him. Her scent filled his nostrils as she stepped past him and into the chill December air.
“Are you coming?”
“Well, I’m not going back into hiding,” she said. He didn’t miss the challenge in her voice.
“So, the Warlord doesn’t know you left the safe house. Does anybody know?”
She gave him a very unladylike snort and curled her lip. “Of course not. That would defeat the purpose of sneaking away. I told the women at the safe house—no, I demanded to be left alone. After that, I went up to my room and locked the door. I was out the window and off the property in five minutes flat.”
Yes, he thought as he gazed down at her, he was about to do something very stupid. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that they were standing so close to the open door of his plane or simply because he’d completely lost his mind, but he figured if none of the Ikari knew she had left the safe house, there wouldn’t be any harm in taking her with him to New York. Surely, traveling with him would be a damn sight better than sneaking around the compound in the dead of night. At least, he hoped that was how she’d see it.
She studied him for a moment. Her eyes seemed to take in every inch of him, from the boots he wore to the leather jacket he’d thrown on in place of a shirt. Those lush lips of hers quivered, almost imperceptibly, as she looked at him. He realized she was nervous. Very nervous.
He rested his weight against the narrow stair railing that led to the jet door and focused his attention on those pretty pink lips. Just the act of staring at her, of making sure she knew he was staring, sent the blood rushing between his legs where his cock had already begun to throb.
She bit her lower lip, probably in an effort to still the tremors, and gazed down at her feet.
“Come with me, Al-Kenna. I need you.”
“You shouldn’t say such things,” she mumbled to the ground.
Damn if she wasn’t a doll of a woman. It took every ounce of strength he had to remain standing there and not force the issue. It would be so easy to simply lift her off her feet and carry her into the plane. She’d protest for a while, just for form’s sake, but inside she’d want to thank him. He knew she wanted to go with him. He could see it in her eyes and in the way she couldn’t quite maintain eye contact with him.
He knew the Ikari and knew that above all things, they valued chastity. Especially in their women. That, along with the fact that he was a vampire, had to be why she was having such a difficult time admitting she wanted to go with him. She’d been leading up to this with her questions about his safety, though she’d probably told herself his safety was only important because he was the Coven Lord of the Alliance.
“Why shouldn’t I say such things when it’s how I feel? Look at me, Al-Kenna.”
Her eyes remained fixed to the tarmac.
“How do I know you won’t bite me?” she finally said.
“I won’t hurt you, or scare you. I just want your company.”
She finally raised her head and met his gaze. At the visual contact, a jolt went through his body like a shock of electricity.
“Because I look like her?” she asked.
He pushed off the railing and took her hand in his. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed her palm. All the while, he maintained eye contact with her. “Because I want your company.”
She stared at him and seemed unable to make a decision.
He had a sudden urge to grip her by the shoulders and shake her until she remembered him. He wanted to make her remember, make her feel the love she felt for him before. To have her here, after so many long centuries of missing her, should have been a cause for celebration. That she didn’t remember him made him want to howl in agony. Surely, the gods were laughing at him tonight. His prayers had been answered; he had his Smenkhare, but now she was called Al-Kenna and had no recollection of him.
“I can’t go with you,” she said finally. “I have to return to the compound.”
The agony that had begun to swell inside him became so intense, he was scarce able to remain on his feet. Worse, he felt a slow rage building within him. She was his Smenkhare, whether she remembered or not. That she would stand here and reject him…He felt his skin begin to tingle, felt his fangs begin to lengthen.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus on staying calm. The last thing he wanted was to scare her again, but try as he might, he simply couldn’t master himself.
The change must have been visible already. As he stood, struggling under the weight of his blood lust, she took a few steps away from him.
He took a step forward and held a hand out to her. Too late, he noticed his nails. They looked sharp and deadly.
She stared at him for a moment, then turned and ran.
* * * *
Having lost all common sense in her need to get away from Alaric, Al-Kenna ran away from the airport and into the thick wood bordering the street. She ran through the woods and felt the cold winter wind whipping through her hair and slashing across her face. She pumped her legs hard and fast, ignored everything but her onward progress through the trees and the ground beneath her. As quickly as she could manage, she ducked under branches and dodged anything in her path. The forest ahead was a mass of trees and she had no idea where she was going, only that she was going away from him.
She slowed to look behind her, to see if she could see him coming up the path she’d just run down, but nobody was there.
Had he given up on her that fast? Gotten in the plane, prepared to leave her behind?
She felt a pang of disappointment and j
erked her head forward again.
She screamed. In the next second, she was falling backward. She hit the ground hard enough to stun her.
Alaric stepped from the shadows and hunkered down beside her. He didn’t seem annoyed, though. Rather, he seemed amused.
And he looked human again.
“Now that you’ve had your little mutiny, are you ready to come with me?”
“How did you get here ahead of me?”
She rolled to her side and moved to sit up, but he pressed her gently into the ground. Her back arched when it met the rocky ground, but she was quickly enveloped in the warmth of Alaric’s body as he settled it over hers. The leather felt soft and smooth against her skin and so good, she wanted to press her body closer to his. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he looked at her. The hard length of him, thick and long, and very erect, pushed insistently against her leg. It felt hot, and needy, and altogether too real.
“Magic,” he whispered into her ear.
Her first impulse was to struggle away from him, but as he pressed his body against hers with more insistence, her willpower evaporated. He felt so good. When he entwined his fingers in hers and pressed her hands to the ground at either side of her head, a brief chill of fear ran down her spine. But the fear quickly evaporated in the heat of her lust.
“You’re beautiful,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve waited so long to have you at my side again.”
He ran his lips over her throat. The touch was so soft, she wondered for a moment if she’d imagined it and this entire night. The press of his erection was evidence enough, though, that he was very real.
Her body was suddenly overloaded with sensation.
“I’ve wanted you so long,” he said.
Even as she stared into his eyes, she knew her lips were quivering. She was a fighter, a warrior. But put her in a situation like this and she had no idea what to do. No, that wasn’t precisely true. What she wanted to do was give over to her hormones and let him do whatever he wanted.
He met her gaze and grinned as he drove one fang through his tongue. Blood dribbled down his chin from the wound, but she didn’t move. She felt paralyzed. When he ran his hand over her breast, she sighed. The pleasure of that simple touch was too exquisite and too luscious for words. He did it again, his eyes focused on her, and she let her eyelids close as pleasure washed over her.
“This is what I’ve wanted to do to you for years,” he told her. “This and more.”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Look at me,” he whispered into her ear. “Remember me.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. And as she opened her eyes, he ran his moistened tongue over her bottom lip.
“Oh, gosh,” she whimpered as a few drops of his blood dampened her tongue. A shudder ran through her body at the taste of it.
He sucked her lip into his mouth and laved it.
When he released her it, she gazed up at him. “Why me?”
Releasing her hands, he nipped at her chin and growled.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when he lowered his face to hers and kissed her hungrily. Their tongues met and tangled and for the first time in her life, Al-Kenna knew what true bliss was. White-hot heat scorched her even as pleasure came at her in great waves, pummeling her. Yes, bliss was the taste of Alaric on her tongue and the feel of his body against hers as he moved his mouth over hers. She would have screamed in ecstasy, had his kiss not been so thorough.
Moaning into his mouth, she pulled him closer and squeezed. He growled again, but this time the sound was more animal, more savage.
“You’re coming with me, Al-Kenna,” he promised through gritted teeth.
The pleasure was too much to deny, too much to refuse. She writhed beneath him, tried to grasp him so she could pull him to her again. She wanted the taste of him, the pleasure. And more than just a few drops.
“Yes. Yes.”
He rose from the ground and pulled her up with him. She wanted to swoon when she realized he was carrying her away with him. He was taking her as he had Smenkhare. She knew she should protest, knew if the Warlord found out it would be a disaster, but she couldn’t consider the Warlord’s feelings. She wanted this. Had wanted this since she’d read that dreadful book.
Chapter Twenty-One
Al-Kenna sat on a buttery sofa and stared out the window at the crystalline night beyond the jet’s windows. They’d been at cruising altitude for twenty minutes now. Alaric had unstrapped and gone to the cockpit to make sure all his New York arrangements were in order. She’d never thought of it before, but traveling and being a vampire was very difficult. There were so many things to consider, even if you owned your own jet. But that was stupid. She didn’t know why she was thinking of such things now when she was speeding through the night sky at over thirty thousand feet in the air. And her traveling companion was said vampire.
The plane, as she suspected, had every amenity a person could need, and, no doubt, many more. The interior looked more like a lavish parlor than an airplane fuselage. There were three cream-colored sofas positioned around the fuselage, a secure bar, and a back bedroom where Alaric went when he wanted to sleep. While she’d accepted the full tour of the lounge area, she had refused Alaric’s offer of a tour of the sleeping quarters. She didn’t doubt it was any less lavish than the rest of the plane. But just now, she figured seeing his bed wouldn’t be a good idea. Just thinking of it brought up images of Alaric lying naked, his muscular thighs tangled in silky sheets while his golden brown hair fanned out across the bed beneath him. Now, that would be a sight to take her breath away…and whatever good judgment she had would flee.
“Now I have you where I want you,” Alaric said when he stepped into the lounge. He set a maniacal grin on his face and bobbed his eyebrows up and down. “I bet you’re scared now.”
“Even if she’s not, I can assure you I am.”
The sound of the cultivated Spanish voice had Alaric glaring for real. Turning to the speaker, Alaric said, “I thought I told you if you were coming, you’d have to be silent. Why don’t you go to the sleeping quarters so I can be alone with Al-Kenna?”
Damon shrugged. “It didn’t make any sense for you to leave me behind when I have to be there tomorrow, anyway.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. When Alaric had carried her into the plane and realized Damon was already sitting within, strapped and ready for flight, he had let loose with a flurry of expletives unlike any she’d ever heard.
Alaric lifted an arm and pointed toward the back room. “Go, Damon.”
Damon stared across the fuselage to where she was sitting and met her gaze. Giving her a wink, he rose, then sauntered from the room.
Even as he shut the door behind him, she found herself laughing again.
Her humor was short-lived, though. She quickly sobered as Alaric closed the distance between them and settled himself on the sofa beside her. He sat facing her, and she was grateful to be saved from the emotional overload of sitting thigh to thigh with him. But his knee, propped on the sofa and bent under him, brushed against her. She could have sworn her skin grew hot at the point of contact. Even this small connection sent her into a near panic. She had to force herself not to scurry away from him like a scared rabbit.
“You’re safe from my advances…for now.” He ran a finger over her chin. “But make no mistakes. You belong to me.”
Her stomach gave a jolt at those words and she found she was at a loss for how to respond. He went on, though, as casually as if he said this sort of thing every day. Of a surety, it wasn’t the sort of thing Al-Kenna was accustomed to being told. More bizarre was her own reaction to this speech. She should have been outraged. She shouldn’t have felt comforting warmth spreading through her body.
“Have you ever been to New York before, lovely?”
Even the sound of his voice did things to her, things she didn’t care to think about. Her stomach
felt like thousands of tiny butterflies were flittering around inside, and there’d arisen an ache between her thighs she didn’t know how to quiet. But as uncomfortable as these new sensations made her, they felt incredibly good. She wondered if this was how the Seer felt when she took the Warlord to her bed.
“You shouldn’t call me lovely,” she said.
“Beautiful, ravishing, stunning, I could go on.”
At a soft chuckle from the other room, Alaric looked toward the sleeping quarters and scowled. “Shut up, Damon!” he yelled.
The laughing abruptly stopped.
“I’ve never been to New York,” she said, answering his question. She’d never been complimented before, at least not in this way, and she didn’t know how to respond. Even Jesse, in his eternal quest to make out, had never told her she was beautiful. He’d never even told her she was sorta cute. This experience with Alaric was wholly new to her. And it didn’t help matters that Alaric was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.
And he was a vampire.
“I wish I could take you to Manhattan, but we’re going to Long Island. Figlio, showoff that he is, has a beach house in the South Hamptons. He only goes to it in the winter when his millionaire neighbors are either in the city or off gallivanting around the globe. He likes his solitude. As it is, though, there’s a chance he’s away. We’ll wait at his house until night fall tomorrow, then go to the coven house.”
“You haven’t let him know you’re coming?”
He smiled. “Figlio is of the first brood. He’ll know someone is in his house as soon as we enter. And he’ll know who it is, so don’t worry that if he comes, he’ll come poised for battle.”
“I wasn’t worried. I can handle myself. But what will he say about you bringing an Ikari into his home?”
“He’ll understand once he sees you.”
And so they were back to Smenkhare again. Alaric didn’t have to explain what he meant. She knew Figlio would take one look at her, see Smenkhare, and understand Alaric’s attraction to her. What she couldn’t understand was how a man, a vampire as powerful as Alaric, could fall in love with a woman and love her for centuries, even after she was dead. Was Smenkhare such an extraordinary person to be so unforgettable?
Nephilim War: Book 2 Page 18