Desire the Night

by Amanda Ashley

  Her troublesome thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Gideon stepped out of the bedroom. The well-cut black jacket and trousers emphasized his broad shoulders and long legs. The coat and pants fit him as though they had been hand-tailored. No doubt about it, he had been born to wear a tux. She grinned inwardly. She could hardly wait to get him out of it!

  After a quick check on Gideon’s cell phone, they decided to get married in the Victorian Chapel at the Chapel of the Flowers. The room was adorned with bronze-colored velvet draperies, crystal chandeliers, beige marble floors, and mahogany pews.

  The ceremony was traditional, yet Kay was sure she had never heard more beautiful words in her life as she promised to be Gideon’s lawfully wedded wife, to love him for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as she lived.

  She felt a moment of regret when it came time to exchange rings, because they didn’t have any. But, to her surprise, Gideon pulled a thick gold band from his pants’ pocket and slipped it on her finger.

  A moment later, she was his lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse.

  Murmuring, “I’ll love you forever,” he drew her into his embrace and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss filled with the promise of eternity.

  Swinging Kay into his arms, Gideon unlocked the door to their hotel suite and carried her over the threshold.

  “Alone at last,” he murmured as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor. His body reacted as expected at her nearness. “So, Mrs. Marquet,” he drawled. “What would you like to do now?”

  “Gosh, I don’t know,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Maybe paint my nails or wash my hair?”

  He lifted one brow, his hands sliding up and down her sides, his palms skimming her breasts. “Now, tell me what you really want, wife.”

  “You,” she said, all humor gone. “Here, now. Inside me.”

  “No sooner said than done,” he replied, and in an instant, she was lying in bed beside him, with nothing between them but desire as he kissed and caressed every inch of her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

  She moaned in an agony of wanting, sighed as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with an inner fire as his body blended into hers, two incomplete halves now and forever one.

  Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt his fangs at her throat. A mere taste was all he took and yet it amplified her pleasure a hundredfold. Each touch was like silken fire on her skin, each caress unlike any that had come before. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, even as he knew how to please her. Each kiss, each bold stroke carried her past pleasure, past bliss, to nirvana. She held him close, closer, her nails raking his back.

  She cried his name as ripples of ecstasy shuddered through her, leaving her sated and spent and complete as never before.

  Holding Kay against him, Gideon rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, holding her close while their breathing returned to normal and their bodies cooled. He had been alone for centuries but now, seeing the love in Kay’s eyes, he knew that whatever the future held for the two of them, he would never be alone again.

  * * *

  Chapter 25

  Jaw clenched, his thoughts churning with malice, Victor Rinaldi paced up and down the length of the driveway. Try as they might, threaten as they would, the witch refused to tell him or his father why she had been in the compound, who had taken Kiya, or where they might have gone.

  Kiya. Damn the girl. She was more trouble than she was worth. Almost. If she wasn’t an integral part of his plans, he would consider himself well rid of her. But marrying the Shadow Pack heir was the only way to assure a lasting bond between the two packs. The only way he could one day take over leadership of Alissano’s pack, and his own, as well.

  He slammed his fist against a tree. He was tired of being a civilized werewolf, tired of hiding his true nature, tired of pretending he was content to hunt rabbits and deer when he hungered for human flesh, thirsted for human blood.

  The Alpha of the Shadow Pack and his own Alpha had grown soft, almost as if they had forgotten that werewolves were superior to all other forms of life. In the old days, werewolves had been feared, and rightly so. The ancients had sacrificed their young to his kind—the loss of a few to save the many. But in this time and place, humankind no longer believed in the supernatural. Of course, the fault didn’t just lie with the werewolves. Vampires and witches had also disguised their true natures, walking undetected among mortals, lulling humankind into a false sense of security.

  He had never understood why. There wasn’t a werewolf, vampire, or a witch alive who wasn’t smarter, faster, or more powerful than any human who had ever walked the earth, and yet the whole supernatural community pretended to be what they weren’t.

  But he intended to change all that. It would take a little time, a little patience, and a good deal of planning, but he would do it, or die trying. Once Kiya was his wife and her pack had accepted him as one of their own, he would arrange for her and her father to meet with an unfortunate, fatal accident, at which time he would step in and assume the role of Alpha. And then, after a suitable amount of time, he would dispatch his own father and in so doing, become Alpha of both packs. United under one leader, they would be invincible. Other packs would follow his lead and his kind would take their rightful place in the world.

  He smiled as he envisioned the kind of life he yearned for. When he was Alpha, he would claim the woman he truly desired. Selene was a full-blooded werewolf, far more suited to be his mate than Alissano’s half-breed daughter. With Selene at his side, he and his kind would be able to live the life they were meant to live. Humans would quickly learn they were no longer at the top of the food chain.

  But first, he had to find a way to make that damn witch tell him what she knew.

  Verah stood against the wall, her hands bound behind her back, her expression impassive as the Alpha’s son strutted back and forth in front of her.

  She had been stunned by their ability to render her powerless. How had they known that binding her hands with rope braided with sprigs of rowan would negate her powers? She had spent hours turning it over in her mind, finally concluding that being supernatural creatures with weaknesses of their own, they had most likely studied the strengths and weaknesses of vampires and witches, searching for ways to subdue their enemies for just such an occasion as this.

  Few people these days were aware that rowan wood had often been used by druids for staves. Its branches had been used by people of old for dowsing rods and magic wands. Some believed rowan protected homes from lightning; others held to the belief that it could keep the dead from rising. An ancient legend claimed the Devil had hanged his mother from a rowan tree.

  Verah yawned in the boy’s face when he threatened her life again. Insolent pup, she thought scornfully, so full of himself, so certain he had the upper hand.

  Which, at the moment, he did. But she was counting on the fact that he needed her alive to obtain what he desired.

  Face mottled with rage, he slapped her, once, twice, three times. The sound of his hand striking her echoed like gunshots off the stone walls.

  “There will be no food for you, no water, no rest, until you answer my questions!”

  Cheeks burning from the force of his blows, she shook her head and repeated the answer that had made him so angry. “I cannot help you.”

  He could threaten her until he was blue in the face, beat her until she was too weak to stand, but she would never tell him what he wanted to know. She needed the werewolf girl for her own ends. As for the son of the Green Mountain Pack’s Alpha, he could go straight to hell. And when she escaped from this place, as she surely would, she intended to send him there.

  He stared at her for several minutes, his frustration a palpable presence in the room, and then he spun on his heel and stormed out the door.

  Verah exhaled a sigh of relief. Yesterday, he had quizzed and questioned her for hours.

  Grateful for
a reprieve, she was about to sink down on the floor when the door flew open and her tormentor stepped inside carrying a covered box.

  Verah gasped when Victor removed the cover, revealing a cat carrier.

  Rama meowed loudly when he saw his mistress.

  “You will tell me what I want to know, now,” Victor said, “or I will slit the cat’s throat and drink its blood.”

  * * *

  Chapter 26

  It was midafternoon when Kay woke. Happiness welled inside her when she saw Gideon sleeping beside her. So, it hadn’t been a dream, after all. She was really Gideon’s wife and nothing would ever be the same again.

  Last night had been beyond wonderful, beyond anything she had ever imagined. She glanced at her watch, willing the hours and minutes until nightfall to pass quickly so she could be in her husband’s arms again, taste his kisses, feel the hard masculine length of his amazing body pressed intimately against her own. Who would have thought that a chance meeting in the most unlikely of places would turn out so well? Or that a half-breed werewolf would fall hopelessly, helplessly, in love with a centuries-old vampire? Or that she could be this happy?

  Or this hungry.

  She kissed Gideon on the cheek, then slid out of bed. Closing the door behind her, she padded naked and barefooted into the living room and called room service. Certain that she would need all her strength for another bout of lovemaking with Gideon when he awoke, she ordered the biggest breakfast the hotel had to offer, then sat back, wriggling her feet in the thick carpet and smiling as she anticipated the night to come.

  After breakfast, she dressed and went downstairs to try her hand at the slot machines. Vegas in the daytime wasn’t nearly as bright, loud, crowded, or exciting as it was after dark.

  She exchanged a fifty-dollar bill for fifty-dollar tokens, then found a vacant seat in front of one of the slot machines.

  It was fun at first, but after half an hour or so, she found herself constantly checking the time. Even winning a small jackpot didn’t really take her mind off Gideon. She wished he was there beside her. It would be much more fun to win if Gideon was there to share the moment with her.

  After scooping her change into a handy cup, she tried her hand at blackjack but quickly grew bored with that, as well.

  Leaving the casino floor, she strolled through the gift shops. Lots of salt-and-pepper shakers, shot glasses, and T-shirts with Vegas logos.

  She ate a quick dinner, then returned to the room, thinking that spending the day with a sleeping husband was better than anything Vegas had to offer.

  Gideon woke to the feel of a warm, deliciously naked, feminine form pressed close to his side. Eyes still closed, he slid his arm around her waist, felt his body come alive as Kay leaned up on one elbow and kissed him, lightly at first, and then with growing intensity.

  With a low growl, he flipped her onto her back and straddled her hips, his body holding hers in place, one of his hands trapping both of hers above her head.

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him, a seductive smile curving her lips.

  “Didn’t your father ever tell you that it isn’t safe to wake a sleeping vampire?”

  “Actually, the subject never came up,” she replied with a saucy grin. “Although I see something else has sprung to life.”

  Gideon grinned back at her. “Nice of you to notice.” He lifted a lock of her hair and let it slide through his fingers. And then he frowned. “What did you do today?”

  “Nothing much. I went down to the casino for a little while, but it wasn’t any fun without you.”

  “Do you think that was wise?”

  She shrugged. “No one knows we’re here. And I can’t just sit around and watch TV all day, you know. I had to do something to pass the time waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Impatient are you, Wolfie?”

  “Of course not!” she replied, as if that were the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “I was just bored.”

  “Oh, well, if that’s all it is, I’m sure I can think of something to arouse your interest for the next ten or twelve hours.”

  “Really?” She slipped one hand from his and trailed her fingertips over his chest. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh, a little of this …” Leaning down, he kissed her, his tongue teasing hers. “A little of that.” He nuzzled the valley between her breasts, then moved to the soft sweet spot beneath her ear.

  Writhing beneath him, she murmured, “I’d like a little more of that.”

  Chuckling, he ran his tongue along the side of her neck, then grazed her skin with his fangs.

  “More.” She cupped the back of his head in her hands, holding him in place as she turned her head to the side. “Do it,” she urged. “Bite me.”

  There was no way to resist, not when he could hear the way her heartbeat accelerated, the whisper of her life’s blood flowing hot and sweet through her veins.

  She moaned softly as his bite coincided with the joining of his body to hers. Her hands moved restlessly up and down his back as pleasure upon pleasure swept through her.

  There was a dull roaring in her ears that gradually morphed into the sound of someone pounding on the door. Confused, she looked at Gideon.

  His expression brought her quickly back to reality. Springing from the bed, he hissed, “Your father is here. And he’s not alone. Victor and his father are with him.”

  Jackknifing into a sitting position, Kay grabbed the bedspread and wrapped it around her, toga-style. “How did they find us?”

  “Verah.” He swore under his breath.

  “Why would she tell them … ? Oh.”

  Gideon nodded. Verah wanted his blood. Victor wanted Kay.

  There was another knock on the door, louder this time. “What’ll we do?” Kay asked, her gaze darting around the room.

  “Get the hell out here.”

  He reached for her hand as the door burst open. Russell, and Victor and Diego Rinaldi, rushed into the room.

  With a savage howl, Russell grabbed hold of Kay’s arm and wrenched her away from Gideon.

  Victor brandished a stake, his lips pulled back in a feral grin. His father, looking wary, held a bottle of what Gideon assumed was holy water.

  Gideon glared at the three men. He had never run from a fight. He could have killed them all, but how could he destroy Kay’s father with her standing there, watching?

  “Gideon, get out of here!” Kay hollered, tugging against her father’s hold. “Go! Now.”

  He stared at her for stretched seconds; then, muttering a sharp oath, he dissolved into mist and vanished from sight.

  Victor took a step toward her, his face mottled with rage. “You little whore… .”

  “Shut up, Victor! That’s my daughter you’re talking to.”

  Victor closed his mouth with an audible snap, but he continued to glare at Kay, his eyes filled with contempt.

  Russell glanced around the room, noting Gideon’s clothes folded over the chair, his daughter’s clothing scattered on the floor, the bed rumpled, the sheets smelling of sex. “What have you done?”

  Kay lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I’d think the answer should be obvious.”

  Without warning, her father slapped her, a single, stinging blow.

  She reeled backward, her hand flying to her cheek, her eyes watering from the pain. But it was the disdain in her father’s eyes, the fact that he had actually struck her, that hurt the most.

  “Victor, Diego, wait in the other room. Kiya, get dressed.”

  She held her ground, waiting for her father to leave.

  Russell shook his head, then moved to stand in front of the window, his back toward her. “You’ve defied me for the last time, daughter,” he said, his voice cold and without affection. “Get dressed.”

  Kay’s hands were shaking as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Never in all her life had she been so humiliated, or seen her father so angry. Sitting on the bed to put on her shoes, she wo
ndered how far Gideon had gone. And when, if ever, she would see him again.

  Gideon hovered outside the Shadow Pack’s compound, invisible to human—and werewolf—eyes. He had dissolved into mist on leaving Kay, had followed her and the werewolves when they left the hotel. A taxi had awaited the four of them at the curb. It had been easy to stow away in the trunk.

  The cab had stopped a short time later at a local airport, where Kay’s father had ushered her and the others into a private plane. Victor and his father, both silent on the ride to the airport, remained subdued as Kay’s father took the controls and taxied down the runway.

  It had been an odd experience, taking to the air in a plane when he wasn’t in corporeal form. The flight from Vegas to a small landing strip outside the Pack’s compound had taken little more than an hour. He had stowed away in the trunk of the waiting car, only to be jerked out of it when the car passed through the gate in the fence. Someone—Kay’s father, no doubt—had rescinded Gideon’s invitation, rendering it impossible for him to cross the fence line.

  A minor setback. He had more pressing needs at the moment; namely, to obtain something to wear. And something to eat. Not necessarily in that order.

  When he returned, he would open the mind link between himself and Kay and let her know he was nearby.

  And God help Russell Alissano if the man laid so much as a finger on Kay again.

  Kay felt like a condemned felon as her father escorted her to one of the tiny rooms in the basement. They were little more than cells, really, a place where he confined new wolves who were having difficulty making the transition, or wolves who wantonly disobeyed pack rules. She supposed she fit the latter category.

  Sitting on the narrow cot, with her knees drawn up to her chin, she stared at the wall. She had been locked up three times in a remarkably short period—first by Verah, then by Victor, and now by her father—and she was getting mighty damn sick of it. She was on her honeymoon, for crying out loud. She should be with Gideon, not locked up like a common criminal.