Clare opened her mouth and closed it again. She'd half expected the feeding process to be something sexual, but the fact that Pablo was so certain she'd agree to take part floored her.
Misunderstanding her reaction, Pablo went on. "Can you believe he used your bruises as an excuse? When I assured him I'd be gentle with you, he stormed off."
Pablo reached for her hand, obviously trying to console her, when all she felt was relief. Much as she wanted to help Luka, she would not do it this way.
***
Luka stood at his office window and watched Pablo and Clare under the walnut tree. Although every fiber of his being screamed to look away, he could not tear his gaze from them. Did she have feelings for Pablo? Perhaps they had grown close during their time together in Taldom. She had never really been his but he felt as though he had lost her.
He turned from the window and poured himself a glass of wine. The rich, fruity fragrance filled his nose, reminding him of the floral scent of Clare's hair. During their brief moment of parting in the dungeon, he'd memorized her fragrance and the fleeting touch of her hands. He'd thought he was leaving her forever. Instead, she'd left him behind and chased Pablo through the window to Taldom.
He walked across the room and dropped into a chair. In all the decades he'd known Pablo, his friend had never formed a strong attachment to anyone else, but the way Pablo spoke of Clare, of how she had stood up for him…
Pablo had served him faithfully for so long, it was unfair to expect him to give up this newfound relationship with Clare. It was time to release Pablo to enjoy a normal life—the life Luka dreamed of for himself.
Luka could not survive on Earth without Pablo, and honestly, he didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to be with Clare, but he couldn't even touch her. He was weary, so weary. He leaned his head in his hand.
It was time for him to return to the world of his birth, face his responsibilities, and put a stop to Monique's evil machinations.
***
Clare wandered out of her bathroom with a fluffy white towel wrapped around her wet hair. She cast an accusing look at the gold and red bed. The sensual ambience of her room seemed designed to taunt her. Unwanted thoughts of what Pablo and Luka were doing with Lila kept hijacking her mind.
Thanks to the ten hours' sleep she'd had earlier in the day, she didn't feel tired at all. She wandered across to the window and stared out into the darkness. The air was sweet with the fragrance of honeysuckle, while night insects buzzed, drawn to the dangling golden flowers.
Along the western boundary of the property, flashlights danced between the trees, where men patrolled the grounds. After her experience in Amsterdam, Luka had arranged for extra security at the château in case Edward decided to pay them a visit.
Clare plopped down on the edge of her bed and flicked open the book on supernatural beings she'd brought up from the library. While she had access to Luka's collection of arcane texts, she intended to learn as much as possible. The first task she'd set herself was to identify what Edward was.
Edward's lack of genitals seemed so extraordinary, she'd begun to doubt her memory. Maybe in her panic she'd kneed him in the wrong place, or he could have been wearing a sports cup.
She started to read, but thoughts of Luka and Pablo kept creeping into her mind. They had both been quiet at dinner. Luka hadn't looked at her once and even Pablo seemed subdued. When Lila served the food, Clare could have cut the silence with a knife.
As if she'd summoned Lila with her thoughts, a girlish giggle sounded in the corridor outside her room, followed by Pablo shushing. Clare stared hard at her book and read the same sentence for the fourth time.
Curiosity wormed its way inside her chest and wriggled around until she couldn't stand it. She slapped her book down and walked to the door. As she opened it a crack, she glimpsed Luka's back as he went into Pablo's room.
Unable to resist, she crept along the corridor on tiptoes and put her ear to Pablo's bedroom door. The silence drummed in her ears, then she heard the faint sound of a woman's voice.
Clare raced back to her room, fastened the door, and stared into space, trying to understand the turmoil inside her. She knew Luka couldn't touch the woman, but she didn't even want to think he was in the room with Pablo and Lila.
She'd put off arranging to leave, wanting to spend longer with Luka. But there was little point when there could be nothing between them.
Luka was still determined to sacrifice himself on the altar of some stupid male principle and return to Taldom. If he really wanted to go she couldn't stop him, but first she would return to New York and put a stop to the use of Red Death in Moray products. At least that would upset Monique's plans and maybe give Luka a chance with his family.
While she was about it, she would shut down the Dutch production facility and move it all to America where she had more control.
***
Clare woke with a start in the middle of the night. Unsure what had disturbed her, she listened intently and stared at the eerie shadows on the ceiling above her bed. Dread crawled through her. She couldn't shake the feeling that something had woken her.
She stretched her legs and wriggled her neck to ease the stiffness. As her eyelids drifted closed again, a brushing noise whispered through the half-closed bathroom door. She strained her ears. All was silent for a few seconds, then the sound came again. It could have been the curtain blowing against the tiles, except she'd closed the bathroom window after her shower.
Fear raced through her. Maybe she should go to Pablo's room, but what if Lila was still there? It would be embarrassing if she walked in on them. The idea of going to Luka was obviously out of the question.
Silence returned. Gradually, Clare relaxed again and closed her eyes. She was drifting on the edge of sleep when she heard a footfall on the tiled bathroom floor. There was no mistaking the sound. She tensed to move and nothing happened. She couldn't even turn her head. Another footstep sounded, then another, gradually getting closer. A scream filled her chest but her deadened throat and mouth remained closed.
An inky figure loomed at the end of her bed, a patch of darkness so deep it swallowed the pale glow of moonlight penetrating the drapes.
Blind terror raced along her nerves, demanding she move. Yet she remained frozen, laid out like a sacrifice on an altar. The male shape floated up, distorted into a dark cloud, and flowed over her. Red eyes glowed within the dark mass. "Clare," it breathed in a sibilant whisper.
Clare cried, a silent keening sound in her head, as the thing weighed down on her ribs, crushing the life from her. A putrid smell filled her nose and mouth. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her face.
It touched her everywhere, pricking her skin like a million insects' legs. Pressure filled her head. Her eyes ached. Her temples throbbed as if they would explode.
She concentrated on each breath. In, out. In, out. Ignore the stench. Stay alive.
Chapter Twelve
A crash echoed around Clare's bedroom and the ceiling light burst on. At the periphery of her vision, she saw Luka dash into the room. A cry for help lodged in her throat, as he threw himself across the bed. The black shadow scattered around him like a swarm of flies and disappeared.
Released from her paralysis, Clare's body jerked beneath Luka's weight. He scrambled clear as she gulped air to fill her starved lungs while tears of relief streamed down her face.
Luka narrowed his eyes and scanned the length of her body beneath the sheets. When their eyes met, her own horror reflected in his gaze.
"What in hell's name was that?" He cast around the room as if looking for evidence of the thing that had attacked her. After a few moments, he returned his attention to her and sat on the side of the bed. "It appears to have gone." With a brief brush of his fingers, he moved the hair off her face. "Did it hurt you?"
By now the wild thumping of her heart had eased, and her breathing was nearly back to normal. "It felt like it pressed on my chest, but it was jus
t a shadow." She tried to move and every fiber of her body was weary, as if she'd run a marathon.
"It looks to me as though whatever it was stole your psychic energy."
"Like you do when you touch me?"
He dropped his gaze as he nodded, and she realized he might be offended by the comparison.
"Sorry, Luka, I didn't mean to imply you're anything like that thing."
He gave a faint smile. "I don't attack women in their beds at night. But that thing was some kind of psychic vampire, like me."
"Thank you for coming to my rescue."
He inclined his head. "At your service, Miss Moray."
Luka smoothed the creases from his black silk pajama pants. "Doesn't it frighten you to be near me, knowing what I am?"
"No."
His gaze rose to her face and he smiled. "I suppose living with Monique taught you to be strong."
Clare flexed her fingers where they lay on the comforter, only a few inches from Luka's hand. How she longed to bridge that gap and touch him again. Perhaps he sensed the direction of her thoughts because he rose and stepped back. "I'd better leave you to rest. You should be fine by tomorrow."
"Thank you again." She didn't want him to go. She didn't want to be alone.
He headed to the door, tall and lean, his muscles clearly defined. The light picked out a patchwork of pale lines across his back. Were they scars like Pablo's?
He paused at the door and turned. "Will you be all right?"
"I'm worried that thing might come back." The silence stretched until it became awkward.
"Do you want company, then?"
"Yes, please. Just until I go to sleep."
He glanced down at his feet. "Shall I fetch Pablo?"
"Why? Oh…" Didn't Luka want to stay with her?
Clare pulled the covers up until they hid most of her face. "Forget it. I'll be fine."
"He won't mind."
"No. I said forget it." She rolled over so her back was to the door.
The light blinked out and Clare held her breath, waiting for the sound of the latch. After a few moments she glanced over her shoulder. Luka was still standing in the doorway, his lean, muscular frame silhouetted by the hall light.
"It might be safe for me to touch you tonight," he said softly.
"Touch me?" Clare sat up, ignoring the dizzy, light-headed sensation. "How's that possible?" Then she understood. If the attack had depleted her psychic energy, there was less for Luka to steal.
"It's not just that your energy is low," Luka said. "Mine is high because of—"
"Pablo and Lila fed you," Clare finished.
A strange tingling sensation raced across her skin. This might be her only chance to touch Luka again. She had to take it. "Stay with me."
Luka closed the door, leaving the room in darkness. The soft tread of his footsteps came towards her. The side of the bed dipped and she made out the faint outline of his body in the ambient light through the curtains.
She reached out, found his hand, and slid her fingers into his palm. He lifted her hand to his lips and whispered her name. "You are so beautiful, sweetheart."
"Come closer, Luka. Hold me."
He climbed in the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. Clare let her fingers wander over his shoulders, enjoying the smooth skin and firm muscles.
"I've dreamed of this," he said against her hair, "of being close to you, holding you in my arms."
Clare curved her palm around his cheek, felt the prickle of stubble against her skin. "Kiss me, Luka."
His lips touched hers, tentatively at first, then firmer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, reveling in the melting heat inside her. Just a kiss from Luka swept her away. There was something between them she'd never found with a man before, a connection at a deeper level than she'd ever experienced.
She wanted this night in his arms to go on forever.
She closed her eyes, and nuzzled the warm, firm strength of his shoulder as he trailed his hand down her arm. She twined her fingers in his hair while he stroked her back.
God, she wanted him. She wanted to touch him everywhere, to taste him, to feel him inside her. Pleasure flowed from his caress, filling every cell of her body.
When she raised her hand to pull down the strap of her nightdress, he caught her wrist and dragged in a breath. "No, love, you need sleep."
He hadn't touched a woman for decades, but he still put her needs above his. She traced her fingers around his jaw. "You're too good to be true, you know."
He gathered her against his chest and held her tightly. "Seeing myself reflected in your eyes, I almost believe you," he whispered. "I wish I could live up to your opinion of me." He released a sigh that pinched her heart.
Clare clung to him while a tornado of emotion spun inside her. What would it be like to wake beside him? That seemed like an impossible dream.
With a soft click, the bedroom door opened. Clare's heart jumped with fear at the sound. Slivers of pain shot down her body as she jolted her injured neck, but it was only Pablo. He advanced on the bed, wearing nothing but scarlet pajama pants. He blinked sleepily and scratched his chest. "What happened?"
"Clare was attacked by a psychic vampire. Her energy is low."
"Ah. Can I get in with you?" Without waiting for an answer, Pablo walked around the bed and climbed in on the other side of Clare. She met Luka's gaze and they both laughed.
Pablo pushed up on his elbow. "What?"
"You didn't wait to be invited."
Pablo only grunted and snuggled back under the covers.
"Well, I think we can safely say you will not be attacked by that intruder again tonight," Luka said to her.
"I guess not." She settled down again and snuggled up to Luka, determined to enjoy every second of being with him while they could touch.
"Good night, my love," he said.
"Good night, Luka. Good night, Pablo." She had to admit she did feel safe, even if the setup was rather unorthodox.
***
The following morning, Clare stood outside the château's back door. She sipped her coffee and watched Pablo and Luka dance around each other in skintight white fencing uniforms as they sparred. It was an interesting sight. Although she still felt weary after losing energy to the vampire, her body hummed from spending the night in Luka's arms.
The fine blades of the swords flashed in the sun as they thrust and parried. They fought in the enclosed stable yard while three stable lads lounged against the wall, watching, and eyeing Clare with feigned disinterest.
Six horses looked on, their heads poking out over their stable doors while they chomped their breakfast.
White doves fluttered around the slate roof of the clock tower on the far side of the yard, and Clare noted it was already half past ten. She had woken alone shortly after ten, had a super-quick shower, and raced downstairs. She didn't think the thing that attacked her would come back in daylight, but she was eager to find out what it was and how to fight it off. Its smell had reminded her of Edward—not a pleasant thought.
One of the horses behind Pablo shook its head vigorously, showering food on him. He swore and looked around. Luka went for the kill. The tip of his blade spiked Pablo's chest over his heart.
Luka stepped back and pulled off his face protector.
"That's not fair," Pablo said as he followed suit. "I was distracted."
"Fighting is not about being fair. If these were real blades, you'd be dead."
Both men walked towards her. Pablo shoved his sword beneath his arm and pulled off his gloves. "Next time I'll beat you."
Luka smiled. "You say that every time."
"I need a hug to console me." Pablo put his arm around Clare's shoulders.
She held her coffee aside and embraced him with one arm. She didn't know the rules of fencing, but she was sure Luka would never cheat on principle. Pablo however, would almost certainly cheat, but he would never mean any harm.
Sh
e met Luka's eyes over Pablo's shoulder and he smiled, a genuinely happy smile that touched her deeply. She ached to hug him too, to hold his hand and kiss him. Living without touching must be so lonely. Clare wasn't a touchy-feely person, but to be denied physical contact with anyone would drive her insane. No wonder Pablo was important to him; as well as feeding Luka energy, Pablo was his only human contact.
Both men stripped off their white jackets and stood in undershirts, drinking glasses of iced water.
"I've been thinking about my nocturnal visitor," Clare said. "It had a very distinctive smell that reminds me of Edward Gregore, the guy who attacked me in Amsterdam."
"Do you know much about this man?" Luka asked.
"He's in cahoots with Monique and there's something weird about him."
"How so?"
Clare was reluctant to tell them. She was half convinced she'd been fooled. "I kneed him in the groin."
Both men grimaced. "That's the reaction I expected from him, but he didn't have anything down there."
Luka frowned. "You mean he's really a woman?"
"No. I mean he's smooth like plastic."
"Mierda." Pablo's eyes widened. He cupped his crotch as if reassuring himself everything was where it should be.
Luka narrowed his eyes. "What did you say his name was?"
"Edward Gregore."
"E. Gregore. Egregore." Luka cursed beneath his breath and threw his gloves on the stone bench.
"Do you know what he is?"
"My guess is Monique created this creature herself. An egregore is usually cast from clay. It's molded into a shape approximating the form it will take. When the creature is animated, the conjurer visualizes how they want it to appear to the world."
"You're saying Monique created Edward out of clay?" Clare couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice. That was plainly ridiculous.
"I think it's probable. She has given him a name that describes what he is. It probably amuses her that no one has a clue to his identity."
Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) Page 11