He stared down into my eyes for a long moment, and then he pulled me tight to him, bowed his head and kissed my mouth. Feverishly, he kissed me. Desperately. And I clung to him, and kissed him back with the same unrestrained fierceness. When at last, he lifted his head away, I was shuddering with longing for this man I knew felt nothing for me except contempt. But it didn’t fill me with disgust and self-loathing as he probably thought it did. I refused to let it. I wasn’t yearning for the touch of a monster, or even of a sinful man whom I hated. I yearned for this man, whom I had come to care for, somehow. And I saw no terrible sin in that.
We bent our knees and jumped together, though he was still too weakened by the drug to be of much help, and we landed on the ground, still clinging to each other. He stood, pulled me to my feet and, for some reason I did not understand, he clung to my hand as we ran off into the forest, in the direction the others had taken. We didn’t speak again. I saw lights in the distance, heard mortal voices as DPI troops fanned into the woods like soldiers, searching for us. No doubt intent on killing us all, on sight. We went quickly, and quietly, and when we reached the car, we piled inside. Even Roland, though he protested at riding in the thing.
The sky became lighter, paling to purple, as I sped back to the only shelter I could think of. The abandoned house where Jameson and I had planned to stay that first night. But when I stopped the car and got out, Jameson touched my arm.
“We’ll leave the car here. If they find it, they’ll think we’re trapped inside the house, and it might distract them. But I think we should head for that cave of yours.”
“There’s no time,” I said, searching his eyes.
“It’s darker in the forest,” Rhiannon said quickly. “There will be time, if we hurry.”
We did hurry, though the others were far slower than I. Twice Tamara told me to run ahead, to leave them and wait for them at the cave, but I refused to leave these newfound friends. I had come, in a very short time, to care for them very deeply. They’d become the family I had never had. The reward I’d always dreamed my goodness would earn for me, as a child. They were all risking their lives to help my baby daughter. And I would lay down my life for any one of them.
But even if it hadn’t been for the love I felt for Tamara and Rhiannon, I could not have brought myself to leave Jameson. If the sun rose and began to blister my skin that very moment, I could not have gone on without him.
It was because he was the father of my child, I told myself, as I walked beside him through the gathering light. I was linked to him through the baby. That must be the explanation.
He turned and looked into my eyes then, and something inside me seemed to rouse from a heavy slumber. And I knew that my theory held no water. There was a bond between us. But for my part, at least, it wasn’t our daughter alone that had created it.
There was something more. Something I could not begin to understand.
You’re in love with him, fledgling, Rhiannon’s voice whispered in my mind.
I swung my gaze to meet hers, startled, realizing I’d forgotten to guard my thoughts.
She smiled at me, sent me a wink. And I sensed she spoke to me alone, and kept her thoughts between us, so Jameson couldn’t hear them. Yet another trick I’d like to learn. Of course, I knew it from the first time he spoke of you. You’ll be good for him, Angelica. Exactly what our arrogant young Jameson needs.
Her smile grew larger as she slanted a glance at him. Then she looked at me again, mischief in her eyes. Don’t tell him just yet, young one. He needs to suffer a bit longer, I think. Suffer? Oh, Rhiannon might be wise, but she had no clue about Jameson. He wasn’t suffering at all on my account. His only torment came of his longing for our child, and of his craving for revenge against DPI. He might want me with the passion of a madman. But there was nothing beyond that. And as for me, well, I most certainly was not in love with him.
It would be a very foolish woman, indeed, who would let herself love a man who despised her.
Chapter Thirteen
Jameson came awake slowly, the scents of the night gradually filling his lungs and coaxing him away from the heavenly arms that held him in his dream. When he was half-awake, at just about the point where he’d decided he’d rather not wake up, he realized those arms were Angelica’s. And those were her lips, and her soft moans he’d been playing in his mind all day. It made him angry that he couldn’t control his mind while he slept. He wouldn’t dream of her that way if he had a choice in the matter. Because it was too disappointing to wake to the harsh realization that she would never whisper the things to him in the realm of reality, that she did in the dreamworld.
He’d been resting against the cool stone wall. And he’d fallen asleep with Angelica close beside him. But as he wrestled himself more fully awake and turned to look at her, just to assure himself she wasn’t truly as beautiful as his dream had painted her—though he knew full well she was—he didn’t find her there. She was gone. A tiny trill of alarm shivered up his spine, and he sat up straighter, blinking the sleep haze from his eyes.
“Good, you’re awake,” Roland said. “We need to get an early start if we’re going to catch up to them before they have the child firmly installed in that building in White Plains.”
The others were up as well, Rhiannon brushing her long hair, Tamara snuggling sleepily in Eric’s arms.
“Not we,” Jameson said softly. “I.”
“Jamey—” Tamara began, sitting up straighter, but he cut her off.
“No, Tamara. I’m not willing to have you risking your lives for me anymore. You could have been killed. And the risk is even greater now. They’ll be furious that we escaped, and more determined than ever to kill us all.” As he spoke his gaze kept darting toward the cave’s entrance, but no sign of Angelica appeared there.
“Worried about her?” Rhiannon asked.
Jameson snapped his head around, met her mischievous black eyes. “Where is she?”
“She went out to scout the area. Said she wanted to be sure it was safe for us to emerge.”
“She shouldn’t be out there alone,” Jameson said, and he started toward the entrance.
“Just what is going on between the two of you?” Tamara asked, and her tone suggested she might be thinking there was considerably more between them than there was.
“Don’t start, Tamara,” he said. “There’s nothing between Angelica and me.”
“Nothing but a baby,” she countered.
“Oh, there’s more than a baby,” Rhiannon said, lifting her brows. “There’s passion. The air practically crackles with it when they’re close. And the way they look at each other.” She smiled softly. “I think you love the girl, Jameson.”
“Rhiannon,” Roland warned, but she only smiled at him, and sent her knowing gaze right back to Jameson.
Hearing it stated aloud like that made him feel more miserable than ever. “Of course I don’t love her,” he snapped. He’d be a damned fool if he did, wouldn’t he? Since he knew perfectly well she felt nothing for him. Nothing beyond the physical at least. “I feel nothing for the woman,” he said.
A sound near the entrance brought his head around. Angelica’s eyes met his, but she quickly looked away. There was no doubt in his mind she’d heard what he’d said. And for some reason, he sensed a shimmer of pain in her gaze. Ridiculous.
“I don’t see any DPI men hiding in the trees,” she said softly. A little too softly, in fact. “I think it’s safe to venture out.”
“Next time wait for me,” Jameson told her.
Her violet eyes fixed on him, flashing with rebellion. “That’s right. I’m still your prisoner, aren’t I? Forgive me for not asking permission before I went out of your sight. Foolish of me to think that saving your life would change things, wasn’t it?”
“That’s not what I meant—Angelica!” But she’d turned and hurried out of the cave again, leaving him there to wonder why she was so angry.
“Well done,” Rhiannon
said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Well done.”
He shrugged free of her touch and hurried out of the cave, stepping gratefully into the bracing coolness of the night. A chill autumn breeze snaked up his neck, eliciting a shiver. The moon was completely invisible tonight, obliterated by dark clouds that filled the entire sky. And the wind moaned and whistled in the pine boughs. He didn’t see her at first. And then he spotted her, standing with her back to the cave, staring off into the forest. Her hair danced in the wind, long satiny fingers waving, crooking. As if to draw an unwary traveler close. As if to draw him close.
Stiffening his spine, he went to join her there, knowing full well he was letting himself fall victim to her silent allure. But then, that was what he’d been doing all along, wasn’t it? Hell, he’d never been a man who found it easy to admit defeat. He stepped up behind her, standing very close. But she didn’t acknowledge his presence. Didn’t even look at him. It was a revelation, to know a woman who detested him so thoroughly. A new experience for him.
“I didn’t mean that you needed to ask permission before leaving my side, Angelica. You know that. It’s just that going out alone could be dangerous. I was concerned for your safety. That’s all.” And as he spoke he stepped up beside her. Still not touching her, though everything in him wanted to.
She slanted him a brief glance, but quickly returned to her contemplation of the forest. “Well I appreciate your concern, Vampire, but it’s unwarranted. You may not have noticed, but I’m becoming quite adept at taking care of myself.”
“I have noticed,” he said. He scanned the surrounding trees, hoping to see what she found so interesting. Seeing nothing unusual, he concluded she simply didn’t want to look at him.
“I must have seemed like a pathetic wretch of a vampire to you,” she said, her tone musing. “I’ve no idea why it took me so long to find myself again. But I assure you, Jameson, when I was mortal, I was never so needy or weak.”
“I never thought you were weak.”
She turned to him, facing him fully for the first time. “But I’m still your prisoner. Tell me, Vampire, do you really think it is still my intention to steal our daughter and take her away where you’ll never find her?”
Her eyes were a pale lilac color in the centers, deepening to dark purple at the edges, glittering everywhere. “I don’t know,” he said, unable to look away. “Is it?”
She blew air through clenched teeth, an exasperated sound, and turned away. “If it was, then why would I have come back for you? I could have left you there to die, and had my daughter all to myself when I found her.”
“If you found her,” he said. “As you pointed out, you’ll have a far greater chance of getting her back with my help.”
“And you believe that’s the only reason I came back for you.” She stated it flatly, neither confirming nor denying it.
“What else would you have me believe?” He leaned one shoulder against a sticky pine, folded his arms across his chest, and eyed her. She didn’t care for him. Detested him. Had told him as much. It hurt that her desire for him disgusted her. It hurt far more than it should. “The lust between us is strong, Angelica, but I can’t believe you risked your pretty neck just for the chance to have me again.”
“You’re an arrogant fool.”
“Not so arrogant,” he told her. “It runs both ways. You know that.”
He reached out, stroked the slender column of her throat with the backs of his fingers. Maybe…he just needed to make sure. Glutton for punishment, wasn’t he? She slapped his hand away, but not before he’d felt the gentle shudder that worked through her. Yes, she still wanted him. And yes, she was still repulsed by it. He had his answer.
“Come along, lovebirds,” Rhiannon called with barely concealed laughter in her voice. Jameson felt certain she’d witnessed that little slap. And it angered him all the more. “We need to get moving.”
He leaned in close to Angelica, and even before he spoke he knew that wounded pride was a dangerous thing. “It doesn’t matter that my touch disgusts you, does it, Angel? We both know you crave it.”
“Remind me of that when you touch me again and I’ll tear the fingers from your hand, Vampire.” And with those scathing words, she turned to join the others as they hiked through the forest.
No DPI forces surrounded the abandoned house where they’d left the car. So once again they all piled inside and started south. Their destination was DPI headquarters in White Plains. They knew that was where the bastards would have taken Amber Lily, and if it cost Jameson his life, he’d get the child back.
And once she was out of harm’s way, he’d return there. To make the world a safe place for her.
They’d only traveled a bit more than ten miles, though, when they spotted a DPI van, and then several other cars with the familiar government emblem on their doors, all parked along the roadside, practically lining the tiny village of Petersville. Men in suits were knocking on doors, talking to people.
“What the hell is this?” Jameson whispered, as he slowed to a crawl, and drove carefully along the town’s main street.
“Either they’ve decided to sell cosmetics as a sideline,” Tamara said, “or they’re doing a house-to-house search.”
“For us?” Angelica asked, eyes widening.
“No.” Rhiannon’s comment drew all eyes, except for Jameson’s. He kept his hopping between the road and the men who had apparently invaded the town. “We’ve never made a habit of seeking refuge in a mortal household,” Rhiannon went on. “What earthly reason would they have to think we’d start now?”
Jameson blinked. In the seat beside him, Angelica drew a trembling breath.
“The baby?” she whispered.
“Perhaps that guard wasn’t lying when he said she’d disappeared,” Roland offered.
“But that’s impossible. Who would take her? And why, for God’s sake?” Angelica’s voice rose an octave, and Jameson knew panic when he heard it. “What kind of person would steal a baby from a parked car, while its drivers were busy changing a tire? What kind of sick, twisted person would—”
“Angel.” Jameson put his hand over hers, closed his around it, felt it trembling. It was odd the way he forgot his anger and frustration with the woman when he saw her upset. “Don’t think the worst. We don’t even know that’s what this is. They might very well be searching for us.”
“Keep driving, Jameson. We’ll find out what’s going on here in short order,” Eric said. So Jameson drove. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to release his hold on Angelica’s hand. Before they got to the edge of town, though, he could see the roadblock set up farther along the road. A battered pickup truck ahead of him was stopped and then searched, its driver questioned.
Jameson looked around for another way out of town, but saw none. Stopping in the middle of the road would draw suspicion, and pulling a U-turn would likely get them all killed.
The hand he still held exerted gentle pressure, and when he looked at Angelica, she was nodding toward an oversize, modern log cabin at the very edge of town. It stood atop a small hill, with a long driveway leading up to it, and seemed set apart from the village proper. “There,” Angelica said. “It looks empty. Pull in the driveway and act as if we belong here.”
“And what if it’s not empty?” Why was it, he wondered, that he felt compelled to disagree with everything she said?
“Look, those scaffolds on the far side. And the roof. It’s only partly shingled.”
“She’s right,” Eric put in. “The place is still under construction. Pull in, Jameson, we don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”
Nodding his agreement, Jameson turned the car into the driveway, drove all the way to the house and then cut the engine. They sat silently at the cabin’s feet, an elevated redwood deck stretching out above them.
“It’s a beautiful house,” Tamara said.
“It’s nearly all windows,” Rhiannon returned. “Foolish mortals and their damn
able love of glass.”
“We should go inside.” Angelica sent a worried glance at the cars still blocking the road just south of town. “It will look suspicious if we just sit here.”
“If we go all at once, and they see us…” Jameson bit his lip, to stop himself from disagreeing with her yet again.
“It’s dark, Jameson,” Rhiannon pointed out. “The moon is covered by clouds. They can barely see their own noses, let alone count heads from way down there.” And since she was sitting beside one of the rear doors she opened it and got out. Roland and Tamara followed, and then Eric got out the passenger side in the front, extending a hand to Angelica. Always the gentleman, Jameson thought rather unkindly. But he got out as well. They trooped around the deck to the broad steps, mounted them, and entered the house from the deck through sliding glass doors. They’d been locked, but mortals had yet to develop a lock that could keep a vampire out.
Inside they were met by a broad cobblestone fireplace, with a glass face, a gleaming hardwood bar, wall-to-wall plush carpeting and a sofa, love seat and chairs that resembled fat brown teddy bears.
“This place is fabulous,” Tamara said, sinking into one of the chairs. The thing seemed to hug her. “I wonder if the plumbing is finished? What I wouldn’t give for a hot bath about now.”
Jameson stiffened. “You won’t be staying that long.” Tamara lifted her head, and eyebrows at the same time. “What do you mean? We can’t very well go on, Jamey, with them blocking the road.”
“You know damned well you can,” he told her. “You just take to the woods, and skirt around them. Borrow another vehicle south of town and continue from there.”
Roland tilted his head to one side. Eric crooked a brow. “What about you?”
“I’m staying,” he said. “I’ll stick around just long enough to find out what they’re looking for. If it isn’t my daughter, then I’ll move on exactly the way you did.”
“And go back to White Plains?” Eric asked.
Born in Twilight: Twilight Vows Page 21