by Jackie Ivie
He looked down at her for long moments when he should probably be watching where he was going. And if he didn’t take care, they wouldn’t need a plane to smack into a mountain. The view darkened, even with her goggles on. And then he slowed.
“Where are we?”
Her whisper trembled. His arm tightened about her. She felt it even through the blanket.
“Shelter. A cave.”
“You know where to find caves in the wilderness area of the Canadian border?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
They lowered. It felt cold and clammy enough to be cave floor. She almost lifted her toes back up, forcing him to hold her a bit longer. And he acted like he knew it. The long, considering look he gave ratcheted her heart a notch. She watched his eyes widen, as if he’d felt it. And that just made her heart skip another beat. And that got his brows raised, and this was just getting ridiculous. The entire night had that problem – especially the mating/turning part. It wasn’t possible.
He was a vampire.
She wasn’t.
End of story.
Jeannette had to admit she felt something for him, though. A wild attraction. A primal lure. A magnetic draw. Something that should be abhorrent and yet felt amazingly wonderful. Jeannette suffered an instant rush of shivers from just thinking about it. But that was more nonsense.
“We’re close to my home,” he replied finally.
“Then why stop here?”
“Dawn is an hour away. Maybe two. At most.”
“Must you bring up a frailty now?”
“Frailty?”
His brow furrowed as he looked at her, sending her pulse into overdrive. And that was without the intense green shade of those fascinating eyes! Was she ever glad she still had these goggles on!
“Uh…daylight. You know. Sun. I hear its murder to a vampire.”
He smiled. That was more devastating. Jeannette quickly looked away. At the walls of what could be a cave. But if it was, it wasn’t large. It didn’t look much larger than the front of her shop back home.
“I don’t have a problem with daylight,” he said.
“Well, let’s just toss another bit of vampire lore…right out the window.”
“What?”
“Vampires are supposed to fry in the sun. Turn to dust. You know. Wither away. I’ve seen the movies. That’s what happens. No?”
He dropped the wood from his other arm. She heard it. She didn’t move from watching his eyes. He didn’t look, either. It was pure luck nothing bounced onto a bare toe.
“Only the newly turned. Age brings immunity. And I’m old. Only a bright Mediterranean sun bothers me. And then I’d just need a hat and dark glasses. Maybe.”
“Figures. So, why stop here?”
“You.”
“Me? I have absolutely no problem with sunlight. All I might get is a bit tan. And that’s iffy, since it’s not even summer yet and I’ve been outdoors already this year.”
“Humans are weak. Fragile. They need rest. I think that comes after fire. And that’s after water.”
“I’m not thirsty. And…we need to talk.”
He licked his lips. There he stood; rock solid, perfectly crafted male. Wow. Jeannette pulsed against him, completely surprised at the reaction. And worse. She wanted more. To an incomprehensible level. Almost like she craved him. Needed him.
Jeannette had never been fainthearted. She’d embraced her specialness years ago. In that padded room. She lived with images and impressions that others scoffed at; dealt with impossibilities on a daily basis; welcomed oddities. She was open-minded. Interpreted strangeness. Channeled weirdness. She probably should have violated Rule Number One earlier. Maybe she’d have seen KayNan coming into her sphere. Her heart rate sped up again. He stiffened.
“I’d…better see to the fire.”
He released her, the move dropping her fully onto cold, clay-like floor. And then he stepped back one step. Another. Jeannette grabbed at a blanket end before it fell off her. He didn’t notice. He looked completely occupied with breaking the limbs into smaller pieces as if they were toothpicks.
“KayNan.” Jeannette dragged the first syllable of his name out, using a low tone.
He went completely still. Taut. She watched as it looked like a shudder ran his frame. And then it passed, as he efficiently assembled the broken wood into a pile.
“Fire first. Then water. You’ll need water. You know you will.”
“KayNan,” Jeannette said it again, exactly like before. He stilled again. And this time, she could swear she saw a nerve sticking out one side of his jaw as he looked down at this kindling.
“And then I’ll hunt you something. To roast.”
“I’m not hungry, either.”
He dropped to his knees beside his wood pile, scuffing the material at his knees. The man obviously didn’t know how to treat a thousand dollar suit. And he’d lost his tie somewhere in their adventures, for his collar gaped open at least two buttonholes. He still wore his jacket, fastened at the lowest button. She watched him fish through his pile for two short logs.
“KayNan. I don’t need food. Or water. And I don’t need fire. I need to talk. With you.”
Jeannette watched his fingers tighten on the logs, and then he moved. He probably rubbed them together, but it was so rapid, all she saw was a blur, a thin opaque smoke thread, and then a lot of flame. She yanked the goggles off. Those film-makers had that right, too. Instant bright light was debilitating. It took some time to see clearly again. The view was impressive. KayNan’s every facial feature was imbued with fire glow. She’d thought him attractive before. She’d been wrong. He was very handsome. And he was avoiding looking anywhere near her.
“KayNan,” she said again.
“Water.”
He stood. And if she didn’t say something to stop him, he was probably planning on flying away.
“Something happened to me in that place. That…prison place.”
“The underbelly of Khanate Palace.”
“What?”
“That place. It was beneath the palace of the Khan.”
“I…look. KayNan, I need you closer. Okay? I’ll just spread this nice space blanket out…like this. And we can sit and watch the fire. And we can talk. Fair?” She’d been spreading the blanket as she spoke and now went to her knees as she waited.
At least he’d looked at her, although his eyes were wide, his expression indecipherable.
“You don’t know what you ask.”
“Probably not. I’m still asking it. Come here.” She patted the blanket beside her. He stiffened and went straighter.
“Oh, come on, KayNan. You’re acting a bit immature now. I only want to talk. And I’d really hate to chase you down. Now come over here. We need to talk.”
“I don’t think…that’s wise.”
“No lie. It’s probably plenty un-wise. Besides, there’s no way I’d catch you.”
“Very funny,” he replied.
“Come on, KayNan, you destroyed a hotel room, jumped from a plane with me and then stuck me in a cave. The least you can do is give me the time of day.”
“I did not destroy the room. Hunters did.” He looked at his wrist. “And it is four twelve. In the morning.”
“What?”
“The time of day.”
She giggled. He stiffened even more. “Honestly? That’s…uh, cute. I didn’t mean that, though. It’s an expression.”
“Another one? Why does everything have a different meaning now?”
“Progress. And what that particular phrase means is that after everything I’ve been through, the least you can do is explain. And that means we need to talk.”
“What do you wish to talk about?”
“You’re not going to join me?”
He shook his head. The rest of him trembled afterward for long moments. The man was eye-catching gorgeous and radiated virility. And doing strange things to her pulse.
“Fine. We’ll talk across a fire.”
“I am trying not to frighten you.”
Jeannette raised her brows and did her best to look skeptical. “I’ve got a special gift, KayNan. I’ve seen some scary stuff. I had to come to terms with it a long time ago. That means I don’t frighten easily.”
“You’re not frightened of me?”
“Should I be?”
He looked up at her and his eyes no longer looked green. They looked obsidian black, reflecting red and yellow hues of the flames. Jeannette’s eyes widened, and then her lips parted.
“Never. You are my mate. The one. The only.”
“That’s um…yeah. That’s one of the things I want to talk about. This mate thing. I mean, it’s not that I’m totally against the idea, but—”
“A vampire only gets one mate. One. And that only if we’re lucky. Some of us never are.”
“I get it. Sort of like soul mates?”
“No. Like real mates. There is nothing sort of about this.”
“You seriously think I’m your mate?”
“No. I do not think it. I know it. Everything on me knows it.”
“How?”
“Finding your mate…brings sensation back. Emotion. Feeling. I touch something and I can actually feel it again. My heart even began beating. Everything on me came to life.”
“Everything?”
It looked like he glanced down at his crotch and then back up, guiltily. He also looked ruddy with a flush, and she hadn’t even meant that.
Well…maybe.
“Look KayNan. I’m not saying I’m for or against this idea. I mean, I’m not buying it wholesale or anything, but something happened back there…something strange. I can’t explain it.”
“How could anyone buy an idea?”
“What? Oh. That’s another expression. It means…screw it. I need an answer to this.”
Jeannette lifted her hands to him, palms outward. He immediately jerked his head away and stared at something to her left. That was definitely a nerve in his cheek, too. The fire highlighted it for her. It also glanced off the cleft in his chin. The perfect nose. The strands of hair that trailed his face, having escaped from the queue.
“KayNan.”
“You have…blood on your hands.”
His voice was a growl. It somehow matched the view. His massive body pulled taut. Poised. All strength and barely-leashed might. Power.
“Yes I do. I have blood on my hands. I scraped them. At that Khanate torture chamber place. And they sting, and now they’re bleeding. And I need to find out why. Why? I’ve never had physical manifestations of my vision. Never. Ever. You understand?”
“You have blood. On. Your. Hands.”
He said it again, stabbing the words into existence with a snarl that lifted his upper lip. And he had fangs again. Even keeping his face in profile to her, it was obvious. As was the shuddering that seemed to encompass and overtake him.
“KayNan?”
The name made sound a moment before he reached her.
CHAPTER TEN
Perfection!
Oh…sweet gods! Nothing had ever felt like this. Nothing. KayNan had her in his arms, breasts smashed against his chest, arms hooked beneath her jacket to enwrap her, while her hands weren’t just resting at his upper arms. They were holding to him. Him! Everything on him focused on experiencing this amazing reality. He had a mate, he’d actually found her, and right now - thank the gods - he was physically holding her! Close. Attuned.
It was difficult to ignore the almost imperceptible tapping of the vein along her throat, tapping with the same pulse his heart now beat to – the one that had dragged his into rhythm with it just yesterday. The feeling was intense. Massive. Awe-inspiring.
He’d never felt such immense emotion. Ever.
KayNan blinked rapidly against the sting of tears as he held her, absorbing how it felt, even through their layers of clothing. His body vibrated with a will of its own, and took hers along. His senses reeled. Careened. Crashed. He somehow kept his eyes locked with hers, his gaze from her perfect line of throat…the place where a bluish vein throbbed with her life fluid. Calling him. Begging him.
“KayNan? We’re just…talking. Right?”
Talking?
Hell.
And damnation.
If he tried to speak, he’d sob. He almost did, anyway.
“KayNan?”
Her breath was the utmost joy and gravest temptation, adding to his agitation. It touched the tip of his nose, slid along his lips, and then reached his throat where the collar of his dress shirt gapped. The sensation thrilled, and then it weakened. Good thing he was already on his knees, for they’d have buckled. He locked his thigh muscles against any other weakness, and it actually worked against the tremors. Barely.
He grunted.
“Okay. If we’re not going to talk…um. Are we going to maybe…kiss?”
Kiss?
The gods be praised!
KayNan had never been kissed. He didn’t know how to initiate it. He didn’t even know where to start. It was beyond comprehension that she’d asked. And she must have known all of that, for she moved first; sliding her hands along his shoulders to his face, to cup it much like before. Holding him. Steadying him. Her thumbs grazed his cheeks, and then the slight dusting of stubble on his upper lip. She followed the line of his lip once. Again.
With the third caress, her thumb pads stopped at where his canines created dual bulges. It wasn’t possible to halt the tremors afflicting him. They radiated outward, reaching her. Especially as her actions seemed to embolden and excite her somehow. The heartbeat they shared amped up. Breath rushed quicker through her parted lips, toying and teasing against his. But nothing broke their locked gazes. Her eyes weren’t just deep golden brown. They were limpid pools of brown mystery. Fantasy depths to be plumbed. Inexorable caverns of secrecy. Realms of wonder…
She tipped her head slightly as she lifted his upper lip, displaying his bite. It might terrify her if she looked. She didn’t. She kept her eyes on his. Rarely even blinking. Somehow questioning. Welcoming. Beckoning.
And he was going insane.
His skin even felt too tight. The suit added further irritant. His clothing itched. Restricted. The jacket encased him like the leather breastplate he’d once worn to his fights. The shirt stifled and smothered. The trousers pulled and chafed. Even the cotton/spandex, thigh-length briefs he wore rubbed and abraded.
And all of that melded into annoyance and irritation, and something that probably reflected in his eyes, and should scare the hell out of the goddess in his arms. But it didn’t. His fangs didn’t seem to frighten her either. She took graduated moments of time to slide her thumbs down his canines, simultaneously reaching the razor-sharp tips. Testing. And that was too much. KayNan reacted, nipping subconsciously and swiftly, opening twin cuts that immediately welled blood. And at the first taste, a jolt resembling lightning pierced him. Branding. Searing. Shocking.
The next moment she moved, her fingers sliding through the hair at his temples, pulling more hair loose, and she did it in order to hold him. Position him. And then…
Oh…heaven!
She pulled toward him, matched her lips against his, and then she kissed him! The movement of her lips sliced and pulsed and laved, gifting him with absolute paradise. Or damn near it. There wasn’t any stopping his groans. They fled his throat without thought, one upon the other, creating a long, drawn-out symphonic throb. The sound hung in the air before getting altered, harmonizing somehow with the low-toned series of moans emanating from her…almost like she purred.
Oh…my!
Kissing was incredible! Magical! Creating thrill upon thrill of joy. Light. Pleasure. Her tongue slid between his teeth, reaching the innermost sanctum of his mouth, to toy, tease, and then spar with his tongue. Every connection sparked more than rubbing his palms had earlier, and created flames that were leagues hotter than the fire he’d started for her. And
all of it orchestrated by the tongue action she kept initiating. Teaching. Enjoining.
Desire ratcheted higher. Craving added to the mix. Hunger slammed at him. And it wasn’t for anything other than her. The combination coalesced as she started writhing, each move rubbing her breasts along his pectoral muscles, her belly against his, her loins against—
Sweetness!
KayNan wanted more. Needed more. Had to have more. Now.
The scope of desire was beyond any comprehensible level. And it kept growing. He pulled one arm from her to shrug out of his jacket sleeve, before he had it back around her, holding her again, so he could do the same maneuver with his other arm. She helped him with that sleeve, pushing at it while he worked his shoulder. And her denim jacket was too much. She must’ve known, for the next few moments found the swish of her jacket filtering through the harsh sound of rapid breathing, and the continual soft, urgent noise of their kiss. He couldn’t get enough.
More. Legions more.
KayNan slid his hands up her back, lifting and cradling her fully against him, delving into her mouth, filling every sense until they overflowed. He was shaking again, too. It was impossible to contain. He had his mate! Her smell was divine. Her taste heaven. Every contact a blessing of delight. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted bare skin against bare skin.
And he wanted it now.
He lowered her slowly, pulling from the kiss with a tinge of loss. Regret. Chill. It was to move back a fraction, gaining enough space to yank his shirt apart, and then off. He felt the cuffs tear, heard her say something about buttons, amid a smattering of sound as they hit the dirt floor, and then she sighed. And that was enough to send spears of reaction right through him. She didn’t know the power of her breath! It added to the visual, sensorial, and auditory impressions. And then she added more to it with words so sweet, his eyes stung again.
“Oh…my—wow. I mean, KayNan…uh. Wow.”
The words carried something akin to awe. Wonderment. Admiration. But that wasn’t possible. The slight opening of her mouth as she looked him over wasn’t possible, either. And there was no reason. He’d heard that reverence in other women’s voices, sometimes even when they’d whispered about him. But rarely. And never with the open-mouthed, wide-eyed look that his mate was giving him. He was beneath consideration. A slave.