Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel)

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Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) Page 20

by Stephanie Rowe


  "So, you're also right." He leaned against the wall of the stairwell, and folded his arms over his chest, studying her. His muscles were completely relaxed, but there was a readiness humming from him.

  She could almost feel the energy leaping off of him and sizzling through the air. "I was right about which part?"

  "That I can't do this alone." He ran his hand through his hair, which made it spike even more in a disheveled, sexy mess. "I have to save Tristan," he said simply, "and I need your help."

  Disappointment sagged in her belly. Of course, it was all about Tristan, but a part of her wanted it to be more. The woman in her wanted him to acknowledge her and the connection intensifying between them. Dammit. She shouldn't have let him make love to her. Now she wanted it to be more. She wanted him to look at her and see the heart that was lying in broken fragments inside her body, in desperate need of being glued back together.

  He didn't. He saw only sex.

  Of course he did. He'd told her from the beginning that that's how he saw the world. So, yes, it was a timely reminder that nakedness and orgasms meant nothing more than nakedness and orgasms.

  She lifted her chin, and gave him a haughty look. "Fine. Great. I love being right." She grabbed the edge of the counter, and pulled herself to her feet, keeping her voice brisk. "So, what now? Where do we go from here? He'll be back tonight." She noticed her grandmother's bag on the dining room table, half open, with most of the contents untouched. She'd been so consumed with Eric's state that she hadn't taken time to go through it in detail. Once she'd realized the stake wasn't inside, it had felt like a dead end. But maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe there was more. "I should check her book. I haven't had a chance to do that yet." She started to walk toward it. "Maybe you could grab us some breakfast, and I'll see if maybe she knew more about vampires than she told me—"

  Eric moved with alarming speed, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to a stop. "I wasn't finished."

  "Wow, relax, a little. I wasn't going anywhere," she said, startled by his quick move. How had he moved so quickly? "I was just going to look at the book—" Her words died when she saw the blazing intensity of his gaze, and suddenly, her skin felt hot. "You had an idea about Tristan?" Even as she asked the words, she had a feeling that his twin was not on his mind at that moment. The heat in his gaze was too searing for him to be thinking about his brother.

  "What I was going to say," he said softly, "was that I'm staying in town not only because of my brother, but also because I'm not done with you."

  She swallowed, trying not to notice the sudden pounding of her heart. "Oh? What does that mean?"

  "A lot of things." His gaze swept over her face. "It means that I dragged you into my hell, so it's my responsibility to keep you safe. Pushing you away clearly won't work, because you're too damned stubborn to back off, so I'm keeping you close." His fingers tightened on her arm, and he drew her closer against him, until her breasts were against his chest.

  Her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest, and heat coiled in her belly. He was so dominant and strong, as if he were wrapping her in this great cloak of power...and sex. There was simply no way for her to be this close to him and to have his hands on her body, and not respond physically.

  His eyes were blazing as his grip tightened around her waist, anchoring her so tightly against him that she had to crane her neck to look at him. "I swear on the soul of Jane McPherson that I will not let you die."

  His words were suspended in the silence between them, and she felt tears threaten again. She wasn't sure if it was for the promise, or the fact that he'd decided to believe in himself enough to make the promise. She couldn't even imagine what it had taken for him to say those words. It was a tremendous moment for him, and for her. Eric had a lot of flaws, but staying true to his word wasn't one of them. His promise was real. It mattered. It made her believe. She nodded, unable to come up with the words to reflect his oath. So, she simply nodded. "Okay. I accept that promise—"

  He slapped his knife into her hand. The blade was almost transparent, but there were hundreds of shadows shifting in the green-tinted blade, as if it were a portal into an unknown world of spirits and specters. "This will kill me. Take it."

  She stared at the knife in surprise. "You want me to kill you?" That was his promise? Not that he wouldn't kill her, but that he'd arm her so that she could carve out his heart if he tried to kill her? Because that really wasn't high on her list of romantic moments she aspired to.

  "I want you to have the ability to kill me if necessary." He closed her fingers around the handle, his eyes dark. "You were able to kill your soul mate when he went rogue even though you loved him, so I know you can do it to me if necessary." His gaze met her in a challenge. "I know you don't love me, so it should be easy for you."

  She swallowed, her entire soul rebelling against the feel of his knife in her hand. She wanted to hurl it away and watch the blade plunge deep into the kitchen wall. "Easy?" she repeated in disbelief. "You think it would be easy for me to kill you?"

  For a split second, he hesitated. Doubt flickered through his dark eyes, along with something else. Hope? A yearning? A longing? It was gone before she could fully identify it, but she felt as if she'd glimpsed something deep inside him, the true Eric that he kept hidden.

  "Don't waste emotional energy on me," he said. "This is the only thing that will work on me for sure." His grip was tight around hers. "Promise me that you'll kill me if it is necessary to save your life."

  "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not doing this." Yes, she'd killed Walter, but it had traumatized her so badly that she'd then killed herself eight times. "If I kill you, Tristan dies." And a part of her own soul would die as well, because that was just the kind of soft-hearted wuss that she was. It was impossible to kill someone without having it knot up inside her chest and eat away at her until she was nothing but a shriveled ball of guilt and misery, and the truth was, she liked Eric, which would make it a thousand times worse. She liked him a great deal, in fact. Yes, he had all sorts of flaws, but her connection to him was strong. She admired his loyalty to his brother. The way he'd risked everything to save her spoke of a man she could afford to trust. He made her feel safe, sexy, and appreciated, despite all of her own flaws and baggage. She didn't want to kill him.

  Again, emotion flickered across Eric's face. "You don't want to kill me because it would inadvertently kill Tristan?" There was an edge to his voice that slithered across her skin. "That's why?"

  She raised her chin. "Of course I don't want to inadvertently kill Tristan." She wasn't going to say anymore. She really wasn't. But the moment she spoke, she saw Eric's face harden, and she felt him withdraw. "God, you dumb man!" She grabbed his jaw. "What do you think my answer is? I never had sex with Tristan. I never even kissed him. I don't kiss men anymore. I don't have sex with them. I don't get involved. I haven't kissed a man since Walter, and I haven't even wanted to. So, don't pull some macho male crap on me. You know damn well that I don't want to kill you either, and to do so would break my already shattered heart, so don't force me to make that choice. Got it?"

  Eric stared at her, and then his hand wrapped around hers and he slowly removed her hand from his jaw. "I am not dumb." His voice caressed her flesh like an invisible silk ribbon trailing over her skin.

  She swallowed, her entire body humming as his thumb swirled circles across her palm. "So, you did that on purpose, to make me feel bad for you so that I'd blurt out some asinine confession about how I feel about you?"

  "No, I didn't do that on purpose." His thumb slid over the underside of her wrist. "But I liked your outburst. I like it when you try to put me in my place."

  She pressed her lips together, unable to muster up the mental fortitude to make herself pull away from him. "Let go of me."

  "No." He traced the letter E on her skin, as if he were marking her.

  Chills ran down her spine, and her blood seemed to hum through her, racing toward that spot he was
touching.

  "Yes, Jordyn, I know that Tristan will die if you kill me. And if we wind up having to kill Tristan to stop him, then I die. It's the cost of our brotherhood. I accept it, and so does he. Sometimes, death is the right choice. Make me the promise, Jordyn. It's non-negotiable. I will not kill anyone else, end of story...especially you." The way he said especially you feathered across her soul like a sensual, unspoken promise.

  Jordyn bit her lip as fear of what he might do warred with the instinct to melt into him and succumb to his seduction. She had to face the fact that Eric still didn't believe he could stop himself from killing her, or anyone else for that matter. Was he right? Was she the one who was wrong? Because, she had to be honest, he was the one inside his head, not her.

  "Promise me." His voice was low and rough. "Promise me that no matter what happens between us, no matter how much you succumb to my irresistible and impressive charm, that you will never lose sight of the fact that you may someday need to sink that blade into my heart."

  Making that promise was an acknowledgment that she'd once again aligned herself with a man who could destroy everything, and betray all her belief in him. She didn't want to do that. She wanted to be right that there was someone in this world worth trusting. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the shadows swirling. Dark, lethal shadows. "Eric—"

  He pressed a kiss to the spot on her wrist that he'd been caressing. "Make the promise, or you go home."

  She didn't have to look at his broad shoulders or the stubborn set to his jaw to know that he was perfectly capable of following through on his threat. "Damn you for being built like a house."

  A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "Is that a promise?"

  "You seduce me and make me promise to kill you in the same breath? You make me crazy, Eric." She sighed, jerked her wrist away from his annoying kisses, and accepted the knife from him. His expression was inscrutable as she shoved the knife through her belt loop. "Fine. I promise to showcase my amazing man-killing skills if you turn out to be less than the man that I think you are. And if you keep being so annoying, then I might even enjoy it. Satisfied?"

  He nodded, and his entire body seemed to relax. "Yeah, I am. Because I know you can do it. I know you will do it."

  She rolled her eyes, feeling deflated. "Yay, me. I'm capable of murdering the men I care about. I should put that in my online dating profile—"

  "No." He caught her arm just as she was turning back toward the dining room. "No online dating profile. Just me."

  His claim of possession on her was evident in every line of his suddenly taut body, and in the intensity of his voice. Desire rushed through her, tumbling in all directions like a wild river, crashing through every obstacle in its path.

  She stiffened, even as her heart jumped. Yes, she didn't want anything from him, but to have the man who'd just made love to her declare she was off limits to anyone else was a really nice feeling, even if it came on the heels of an order to murder him if necessary...not that he was going to get her. She couldn't let herself fall any further. She already felt like she could barely breathe around him, and his knife felt as if it were burning through her jeans. "We have to focus on Tristan," she said. "We must have a plan by the time the sun sets."

  "I know." He pulled her closer, his eyes glittering with intensity. "But a plan isn't the only thing I need right now."

  Oh...there was no mistaking what he meant. She pushed against his chest, trying to get some space. "I already told you. I'm not getting naked with you again. I'm not good at casual, and anything deeper just doesn't fit with you, with this entire situation, or with me."

  "I know it doesn't fit." He skimmed his finger along her jaw. "Sometimes, that just doesn't matter." His gaze went to her mouth. "There's something about you that gets to me, Jordyn. You're inside me, like this light that won't let the parts of me die that have been fading for so long." His arm wrapped around her lower back, and he pulled her close. "I wasn't hungry until I met you, and now it's like a thousand years of deprivation have come roaring back into me, and the only thing that will take the edge off is you."

  Something inside her softened at the truthfulness of his words. She'd felt his emptiness, and she knew he was telling her the truth. It wasn't flirtation or arrogance, just a stark honesty and a baring of his soul.

  The intensity of her response to his words was terrifying. She felt so naked and exposed, her emotions dangling dangerously in a wind that could rip her apart. The depth of her grief after Walter's betrayal was almost insurmountable, an abyss so deep that it had almost sucked her away forever. She couldn't go there again, not for Eric, not for anyone. Trepidation made her hands tremble. "Don't start with me, Eric. I can't do this with you."

  A slow grin spread over his face, as if he knew exactly how much he was affecting her. "I think you can."

  "Stop it!" She poked her finger into his chest, irritated by his disarming smile and the arrogant gleam she saw in his eyes. "Just because you think you can be charming, and you gave me a spectacular orgasm doesn't mean that you are allowed to try to woo me with some suave approach. I'm immune, thank you very much." Total lie, but if she lied enough times, it would become real, right? "I want to deal with the vampire situation, which is kind of pressing at the moment, not deal with this." She smacked his hand away as he reached for her. "I mean it. You're just not that charming." But he was. Utterly charming. How could she possibly think he was charming when he was made of shadows and demon spirits, and couldn't promise not to kill her? But she did. She loved the way he craved her. She loved how he challenged her on every level. And she resonated with the depth of torment that permeated every cell of his body, and the strength of his being that had kept his dark side in check for so long.

  "Jordyn." His voice slid like a silken caress over her flesh, and suddenly she was reminded of what it had felt like when Tristan had spoken to her, only Eric's voice was even more alluring, playing over her flesh like fingers dancing across her soul, sliding with the utmost temptation across every inch of her flesh.

  She swallowed, torn between covering her ears and engaging in random chants so she couldn't hear him, or capitulating completely to him and bounding into his arms begging for him to make her his. She tried to settle for a dignified response, and simply glared at him. "Don't speak. Seriously. Don't."

  "I need you." His gaze went to her mouth, and her neck began to pulse where he'd bitten her. As if sensing her response, his gaze slid from her lips to that same spot that was tingling, and his eyes darkened to pitch black, and she felt a pulse of hunger from him.

  Did he want only sex? Or did he also want more, like her soul? Because, despite his claims to the contrary, the sheer intensity of the energy rolling off him felt like it was far more than a superficial seduction that would be easy for her to resist. It was a deep, instinctual craving that gripped her ruthlessly, awakening an answering response in her.

  Oh, God, was that a vampire thing, or an Eric thing? Not that it mattered. He was so utterly compelling that she loved every second of his attempted seduction, and the game they seemed to be playing. Oh, Lordy. She was in deep, wasn't she?

  Heat simmered in his eyes, and a deeper longing raked across her flesh. She took a step back, chills prickling down her arms. For a split second, she thought she saw a shadow flicker beneath the skin on his cheek. "Do you feel okay?"

  "Not sure. I feel a little hungry." He quirked his brow. "Are you offering me a light snack?"

  "What?" Her hand instinctively went to her neck. "Do you want one?" Oh, God, had she really just asked that? She hadn't meant to. Damn him for getting past her shields. Was she really so easy? Apparently, yes.

  He didn't answer aloud but she felt his voice brush through her mind. Jordyn. You have no idea what I want to do to you. Sinking my teeth into your flesh is just the beginning.

  Oh...wow. "You're talking in my head."

  It appears that I am. Strange. His eyes blazed. Intimate.

&nbs
p; Yes, she had to agree with that one. She met his gaze, her heart thundering. "You're different than you were. You know, since that vampire bit you."

  "Yes, and no. You're just beginning to see me for what I am. But the fantasies in my head? Yeah, they're different now." He ran his thumb over her neck, and she sucked in her breath as all her blood seemed to race to that spot. "I can't sever the tie between us. I know I should, but I don't want to. I loved every single moment of making love to you, and, I'll be honest, biting you was unbelievably hot." His voice lowered. "You're under my skin, Jordyn, deeper than I want, deeper than I need, and deeper than I ever thought of going with a woman."

  Her heart hammered violently at his words. "I'll try to be less adorable."

  He laughed softly. "Won't help. I like it when you boss me around. I like a lot of the shit you do. All I want is quick and casual, as I told you when I first met you. But one night isn't going to be enough with you. Not even close, no matter how dangerous it is to both of us." He lowered his voice, sliding his fingers over the handle of the knife she'd tucked into her jeans, reminding them both that she had the power to stop him. "I fought it, but I'm in now, and I'm not pulling back."

  She shook her head, not wanting to hear those kinds of words from him, because they felt too good. There was too much at stake to risk making choices based on affection and, heaven forbid, love, and if he kept saying things like that, she was going to plummet straight off the proverbial cliff into his lethal arms. "No, Eric. I can't do this with you. I told you, I can't get emotionally involved. Sex complicates things for me. Love blinded me before, and I'm not doing it again. So, let's keep it that way. We had sex one time, to save our lives. That's it, okay?" She saw the denial in his eyes, and wanted to hit him with frustration. "Don't say it," she warned. "I don't want to hear it."

  Eric didn't release her. Instead, he leaned closer, until his lips were brushing against her ear. "I want more."

  She shoved at his chest. "Get off me. Go take a moment of privacy in the corner and deal with yourself that way."

 

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