by Lauren Smith
Ian.
“I’m uh…I don’t know…Ian…” She hesitated, looking at the scowling form of Connor lingering at the edge of the doorway. “He…He’s a vampire. That guy is a vampire.”
Ian closed his eyes, drew a deep breath.
“I know.”
She tensed with apprehension. “You know?”
Ian bit his bottom lip as though embarrassed. She saw the tips of two fangs peek out of Ian’s mouth. Her jaw dropped.
“We both are.”
Chapter Four
Ian was a vampire? They both were? Zoey blinked, her brain short circuiting as she tried to process this information and failed.
“Oh my God. He bit me! Am I going to turn into one?”
Ian was suddenly above her, his hands on her neck, her legs, everywhere as he checked her for injury.
“No, lass, no. You won’t become a vampire. That takes more than just a bite to accomplish.”
Relief surged through her. She wasn’t going to go Bela Lugosi after all.
“Connor, you damned fool. What are you doing biting her?”
Connor, she’d been right to assume it was him, shifted uneasily by the door, his blond hair still wild from her hands running through it.
“You left me a message. Said she was my dinner and I had to scare her.”
“What? That’s not what I said, you amadan!” Ian scooped Zoey up into his arms. She burrowed into him instinctively. The remnants of her climax still rippled through her and his strong arms absorbed her trembling.
“Ian…” Connor growled.
“I said I had a guest and was bringing her dinner. I warned you to be sure not to scare her. Bloody hell man, she’ll never forgive me. Not after you attacked her.”
Ian carried her to the living room and settled her on the leather couch. He grabbed a heavy thick blanket and tucked it around her. Connor followed at a distance, his eyes avoiding Zoey’s. That irritated her, not that she could say why exactly.
“Ian, I’m sorry. The message cut out in places. I thought I heard what I heard. I didn’t know. It’s clear she’s your dinner. I didn’t realize you were bringing them home again. You usually eat out.”
Ian, who had been brushing hair back from Zoey’s face, tensed. His eyes caught hers and held them for a time before he spoke to Connor.
“She’s not my dinner. She’s a woman who’s in need of some help. I offered her a place to stay and to get her some food.” He pointed to the kitchen countertop, which had several take-out bags from the nearby restaurants.
The scent of the food drifted beneath Zoey’s nose. Her mouth watered. Hunger hit her stomach like a physical blow. Food. God, she was ravenous. She’d quite forgotten it when she’d been beneath Connor on his bed.
Her eyes strayed to the kitchen where the food was. It took every ounce of self-control not to run straight at it. Somehow she felt making sudden movements in front of a pair of vampires was a bad idea.
Vampires. She still had to process that, but she could do that later, when her stomach was full.
“Who is she, Ian?”
Ian lifted her up and sat back on the couch with her in his lap. “Her name is Zoey Blake.”
It probably should have bothered her that he just moved her about and picked her up without asking. But she liked that he simply took control—and more importantly, that he seemed to enjoy keeping her close. Even with the allure of food so nearby she was reluctant to leave his arms.
Connor’s eyes narrowed to slits. “And why did you bring Zoey here?”
The air about them seemed to vibrate, like someone had just plucked the strings of a harp and the sound waves still traveled along the air. The hair on Zoey’s neck rose and her skin tingled with awareness of the two men and the situation.
“She has nowhere else to go. The lass lost her family, her home. I found her dying in an alley where some whoreson had attacked her.” Ian’s voice was full of quiet desperation, but tinged with an edge of defiance.
Connor’s lips twisted. “So you thought you’d bring her home and play nursemaid? What about your promise to me? No more mortal lovers. Not after what happened to Lara.”
Zoey stiffened. Mortal lover? “Who’s Lara?” She glanced up at Ian. The movement brushed her lips across the line of his jaw. He tensed, chest and arm muscles hardening. The sudden bulge she felt beneath her had her blushing.
“You test me, love. Be careful.” Ian’s warm breath stirred the crown of her hair, eliciting small shivers from her. “Connor, she stays. Get used to the idea. She’s mine, and I will care for her. You are welcome to help, but do not make me choose between you. I will pick her. We swore once to protect the innocent. Zoey is as innocent as they come.”
“Hey! I’m not that innocent.” Zoey was no stranger to sex—assuming that’s what he meant. There had been a few boys in college before she was forced to drop out, and even if it had been a few years, she still remembered the mechanics of it. Even if she’d been involuntarily celibate lately, she’d still held her share of wicked fantasies, her current one featuring the pair of men both arguing about her.
Connor snorted. “You’re as green as the grass near Belfast.”
“I’m not sure what that means,” Zoey shot back, a tad uncertain but still riled enough to glower at him. “But I think I’m insulted.”
Ian chuckled, but it died once she glared at him with all the fury a woman could muster, which seemed to be enough to make his eyes twinkle despite his lack of a smile. She turned her glower to Connor, hoping to have a better effect.
“Don’t argue with me, pet,” Connor growled. “I’m liable to turn you over my knee and smack your arse until it’s red.”
“You’re not to touch her.” Ian shielded her with his arms, but she wasn’t scared. Connor’s threat had her body heating, and the promise of his hand on her ass, even in punishment, melted her insides. God, she needed help. This was so wrong. She shouldn’t want him to spank her, and it sure as hell shouldn’t have aroused her.
Connor turned his back on them and slammed his hands down on the granite kitchen countertop. His head dropped between his hunched shoulders.
“Connor?”
Tension rolled off Connor’s back in waves. She couldn’t help but remember what happened minutes before when he’d had her on her back. There hadn’t been any tension there, only passion. Her surrender, his domination, and a release the likes of which she’d never felt before. Her womb clenched at the memory of his fingers pumping inside her. Then she remembered she was in Ian’s arms. She raised her head and saw his nostrils flaring. Surely he couldn’t…smell her arousal?
God, I hope not.
“She’s helpless, Connor. I refuse to put her back out onto the streets.”
Connor turned back to face them. “Another stray, like your cats. But you can’t keep her, Ian. She’s a human, not a wee animal.”
Ian’s shoulders stiffened. A low growl emanated from his throat. Zoey’s hackles rose, and she realized that Ian was just as dangerous as Connor, although he’d hidden it from her with his outward gentleness.
As the thought filtered through her hungry mind, she felt a sudden stab of anger, and the prickling of tears behind her eyes. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She would have, she argued to herself, if she hadn’t been so hungry.
Ian didn’t look at her with passion—he looked at her with pity. She’d mistaken his intentions in the bathroom earlier when he’d kissed her. Men did that, didn’t they? Sleep with women they pitied?
The pain of that thought wracked her insides with an angry sadness that choked her. Zoey was too angry to say a word. Emotions ripped through her and she didn’t dare open her mouth; otherwise she’d say a thousand things she’d regret.
Connor looked away. “You should have let nature run its course. We cannot save every mortal we come ac
ross.”
“Let nature run its course?” Ian’s reply was barely comprehensible as it came out in a vicious snarl. “Do you remember when nature ran its course back in Ireland? Our families starved, our people died on the streets, like the very animals I try to save. How dare you hold that against me, against her!”
She couldn’t stand to be there a second longer. She had to leave. Zoey shoved at Ian’s chest. Whatever was going on between these two, she didn’t understand it, and she didn’t want to. She was too hurt by Ian’s words. A stray? No better than a starving cat on the streets? That’s how he saw her? A thing to be pitied, not a person to be loved?
Ian fought her for only a second before he let her go. Somehow, that made everything worse. She bit back a fresh well of tears.
He didn’t even care enough to fight to keep her in his arms. It stung—no, it burned—like a knife sliding between her ribs and piercing her heart.
Zoey slid off the couch, her bare feet sinking into the soft thick carpet. She had to tug Ian’s white dress shirt down to cover her bare thighs. Both men stared at her, their gazes drawn to her legs.
“Ian. Where are my clothes?” She said it softly, but he heard her.
The confusion on his face would have been endearing at any other time, but the tension in the room was thick enough to smother her.
“Why do you need your clothes?” Ian’s face was a mirror image of the brooding Connor on the other side of the room.
“I think I should leave. You both clearly have things you need to discuss, and I don’t want to be in the way.”
“No!” Ian barked. “Absolutely not.”
Zoey flinched, but held her ground. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. I don’t want your pity…” Her voice trailed off, face flushing when she realized she’d wanted something else. Him. When her eyes strayed to Connor, something hit her in the gut. As frightening as he was, she had to admit he fascinated her as well. When it had been just the two of them alone in his bed, he’d chosen not to scare her, but instead to overwhelm her with raw passion. She’d been a moth to the fire of his embrace.
She wanted Connor. She wanted Ian. It was insane to want them both, yet she did. They were immortal creatures, vampires. Vampires. She still hadn’t fully processed this. Eventually she’d have a hell of a headache when she had to accept that fact. But she wasn’t going to think about that right now, not when she had to figure out what she was going to do and where she was going to go. She was still homeless. A stray. They didn’t want her, they only pitied her.
Zoey raised her chin, trying to think of all of the things she should be proud of, and not let her own self-pity weigh her down. If she left now, she might make it to the shelter before they closed and maybe, just maybe they’d have space for her in the main room, rather than having to go back to the underpass.
A shudder of fear tinged with anxiety shot up her spine. Another horrible night under that concrete bridge…hoping no one would attack her. It had happened before. Hands groping in the darkness, trapping her limbs, fetid breath on her face, rags shoved inside her mouth to prevent her from screaming while an accomplice stole what little food she’d kept for when she needed it. That was what she had to look forward to.
“You can’t go, love. Please.” Ian’s tone was heavy, but his fists were clenched and his taut expression revealed surprising determination.
“I won’t be an object of pity, Ian. Besides…” She pointed at Connor. “He doesn’t want me here.”
A storm cloud hovered over Ian’s features as he turned back to his friend. “I don’t give a damn what you think, Connor. I’m keeping her. So apologize to the lass. If you won’t, I’ll take you outside and beat you until you do.”
The threat was delivered with no hint of the gentlemanly front Ian had shown her up to now. This was an animal establishing his dominance where a female was concerned. Recognizing this for what it was made Zoey shiver with forbidden desire. She shouldn’t like the idea of Ian being possessive, but she did.
In another place and time, Connor’s scowl might have made Zoey laugh. He looked like a spoiled child who was being told “no” for the first time. She had a feeling he got his way more often than not when they quarreled. Finally, his expression changed to one of stony defiance.
“Fine. She can stay. For now.”
That was all he said. No apology, no negotiation. Just a gruff reply before he stalked from the room.
Zoey winced when he slammed the door to his bedroom. He’d shut her out, but it felt like more than that. Why that mattered, she was too afraid to consider. She didn’t want to contemplate that she was crushing on a vampire…make that two vampires. She remembered the way he’d pleasured her, the way it felt to be powerless and yet feel so safe with him.
Ian’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Zoey.”
She raised her eyes and saw him leaning against the side of the couch, his green eyes dark with concern. He closed the distance between them so he could cup her chin with one hand. Sparks tingled from that single point of contact, making her flush with heat.
“I don’t pity you. Never think that. But I do want to help, and I need you to stay. Please.” There was desperation in his voice that filled his every syllable. It made her feel guilty for denying him something he needed.
She reached up and curled her fingers around his strong wrist. “Why do you need to help me?” She didn’t pull his hand away, merely kept hold of him, like a grounding rod to attract the lightning strikes his gentle yet possessive touch seemed to bring.
His thumb traced her lips, his eyelids dropped to half-mast as he gazed at her mouth.
“Connor and I are best friends. We grew up in the same village in Ireland. We watched our friends and loved ones die during the Great Famine over a hundred and fifty years ago. It…” His voice grew hoarse and soft. “It ruined me, ruined us both. We were turned into immortals against our will. I remember…hearing Connor shouting and begging to die. I was too weak to cry out…I screamed in my head, but it didn’t stop the pain, or the blood from flowing from that creature’s wrist to my mouth. A little blood would have saved me, but the creature drained me and turned me. Made me one of them. I hated that I was helpless.”
“You gave me your blood…I remember now.” She licked her lips, the memory of that horrible moment came rushing back.
Ian’s eyes darkened to sharp slices of jade. “Only enough to heal you from your wounds. I wouldn’t have taken the choice of life or immortality away from you the way it had been taken from me.”
She could see in his face that this meant something to him. The choice to be what he was. Immortal.
“Thank you for saving me. I didn’t really say that before…”
He grinned. “You were in shock, love. And you’re welcome. I will admit to selfish reasons though. I wanted to take you home with me.”
As sweet as his words were, Zoey couldn’t let herself read too much into it, not when she might get her hopes up for something that could never be. She tried to change the subject back to the story of his turning. “What happened after you changed?”
“I was condemned, as was Connor. We both swore we’d never let another creature suffer the way we had, the way our families had. When I found you, it was like I was mortal again, watching my sister starve to death. I had to save you.”
Jealous pain cut through Zoey’s chest. She didn’t want him to think of her as his sister. Not after the way he’d kissed her. A sense of grief flooded through her as she absorbed his words. His sister had starved. Zoey knew how terrible that fate was. But the fact was she couldn’t remain here with them.
“Connor’s right, Ian. I can’t stay here. Not forever.”
“So stay awhile. Let me care for you until you can get back on your feet.”
It was so tempting. She wanted to say yes, to agree to anything he asked. He was a dream,
a wonderful and strange one. Maybe she had died in that alley after all, and the afterlife was nothing more than this, a dream that she’d be teased and tormented with for the rest of eternity.
Promises of a life I’ll never live.
“Okay. I’ll stay for a while. But once I’m ready to leave, you have to let me go.”
Ian nodded soberly and stood. He walked over to the kitchen bar and started opening the bags of take-out sitting there.
“Shall we feed you before it gets cold? I have fried rice, tacos, cheeseburgers and pasta. What would you like?”
She heard the false cheer in his tone. He was hurt, but so was she. At least she could have some food as consolation. She forced a smile.
“Can I have a little bit of everything?”
Genuine warmth twinkled behind his eyes as Ian flashed a grin. “Finally, something I can do.”
He grabbed some dishes from the cabinets and started digging food out of the bags.
She suddenly recalled they’d mentioned a woman named Lara. She focused on it rather than her hunger pangs. “Will you tell me about her?”
“Who?” Ian asked.
“Lara. I want to know about her.”
Ian blew out a slow breath as he closed the cabinets, his hand on the silver knob, hesitating before he spoke.
“Lara was a dream. More fantasy than reality I think sometimes. I met her in 1923 and fell hard for her. So did Connor. My father would have called her one of the wee folk, a faery. She was wild, free, and so full of life. She made us remember what it was to be human. In a way, it did make us more human. You see, vampires sometimes find something akin to a true mate.”
“A true mate?” It sounded more like a werewolf thing from those movies she’d seen. Then again, she had assumed werewolves and vampires didn’t exist. She sure wasn’t going to ask about werewolves.
Ian turned to study her over his shoulder. “Vampires aren’t like other creatures, we don’t have mates like they do, but sometimes we find another who makes us feel alive again. We hunger for the joys of living again, we crave things mortals crave. Our hearts may even beat. We aren’t human, but we come close.”