Kiss of the Beast (A Classic Paranormal Romance)

by Mallory Rush

  * * *

  Get up, get dressed, go to work. Work, work, working, and not getting a damn thing done—except for doodles of hearts and cursive swirls of Urich's name on a page that read: Mind Over Matter.

  "I will not go to the chamber. I will not go to the chamber..." Knock. Knock. Sure it was Ethan, she slipped the tell-tale paper into the book she'd checked out from the library during lunch, locked her desk, and went for the door.

  "Hi, Ethan. Bye, Ethan."

  "I was just about to leave myself." He shoved his hands in his pockets and hesitated at her office exit. "Want me to walk you to your car?"

  Afraid he'd suggest some more after-work schmoozing, Eva made her excuses. "That's okay. I want to check something out on the hologram bank before I take off." And because she wanted to do just that, and badly, she was going home pronto.

  Thankfully, he didn't put up a fuss, but said agreeably, "you go ahead and I'll make sure everything's locked up."

  * * *

  Four days. Four nails-bit-to-the-quick days and she hadn't given in to temptation.

  It was constant, a compulsive urge to be fought.

  The urge was winning tonight.

  Eva rubbed her eyes then slammed shut the book that had strained them. Glancing around her bedroom, it seemed emptier than usual, almost as empty as she felt.

  That odd, wondrous glow had faded with the same slipping pull of the sun swallowed by the horizon. She wanted it back, desperately. And it was that desperation that had enabled her, just barely, to stay away. To want anyone or anything so terribly much was to invite dependency and Eva knew she was dangerously close to getting there.

  Scary stuff. She'd learned the hard way not to depend on anyone or anything but herself and yet here she was, falling fast and furious. And for what? An anomaly of a hologram! Assuming that's what Urich really was. The substitute program didn't work half the time and the other half, it was a mess.

  She was a mess. Was she losing her mind? Or was she just finding it, discovering how severely she'd limited herself when there were awesome powers to be had, there for the taking, just by tapping into a neglected area of the brain?

  Mind over matter. The book resting heavy in her lap claimed the power to control objects with the mind—psychokinesis—was something everyone possessed, but like telepathy, few knew how to access it. It was along the same vein of Einstein's claim that humans used only a fraction of the brain's potential.

  Her own brain felt like mush. So did the rest of her. She couldn't eat. Sleep was an exercise in exhaustion, her dreams riddled with fantasies gone berserk. They were of Urich, of course. Urich. Urich. URICH.

  He was like a song she couldn't get out of her head, a litany of prayer to some mythical god ruling supreme from the dais of her every need, fulfillment incarnate if she would only fall into his gaze and see forever in his eyes.

  Going to the mirror, her own eyes shone with feverish anticipation. Lipstick to the lips that longed for his, brush to the hair she wanted to feel his hands tangled in, and Eva knew that were he the devil himself she would surely jump into hell's fire for his searing embrace.

  "Lady, beware," she said to her reflection. "Lady, beware."

  Chapter 5

  Urich sensed the caution in her, the elusiveness he had falsely spoken of to Raven was now there.

  There, in her reserved greeting. There, in the avoidance of her eyes to his. But most of all it was in the guard of her mind, a shield of protective defenses raised against him.

  He could sweep them away with the ease of a child knocking blocks to the floor. Though it was his duty to, he did not. Rather, he responded to her in kind, needing some protective defenses of his own.

  "How have you been, Eva?" he politely responded.

  "Great!" Smile strained and over-bright, he deemed her honesty sterling. She was an abysmal liar. "How about you?"

  Since he had no taste for lies either, Urich raised a brow as if he didn't qualify for such a question.

  "So," she said, looking everywhere but at him. "What should we talk about?"

  "Whatever you want." Her emotional distance, the evasion of her gaze distressed him, sparked a flare of anger at what stood between them. Look at me, he silently commanded. She did and he immediately regretted the connection he lacked the will to break.

  "Okay," she said quietly, her eyes like a vast ocean of troubled water, the leagues beneath beckoning him to recklessly dive deep and find his shelter in drowning. "I want to talk about work, about an experiment."

  Here it came, all her uncertainty over what he really was. More than anything, he simply wanted to tell her the truth and do away with this sham he well and truly despised. But duty decreed otherwise and no matter his feelings for Eva, he was sworn to propagate this hateful lie until she became a willing pawn in the master plan of his crippled nation, their future at stake and riding on her.

  "You're disturbed." His commiserating tone was sincere; unlike the explanations he'd already prepared—and she would be all too eager to accept, such was her human nature. "Why?"

  "I'm very disturbed, Urich. And you're the reason why." She bit her bottom lip and he saw his own teeth raking their lush texture. Eva's breath caught and she pressed a finger to her lips. He saw himself teething that fingertip, sucking it into his mouth. She gasped softly and he struggled to withhold the images assaulting him, projecting into her.

  "I disturb you," he said, his empathy great and wishing just as greatly to say she disturbed him even more.

  "Yes. Yes, you do. You're not like the other experiment. The hologram I programmed to take your place isn't performing very well. And then there's you—a success beyond my wildest dreams. You make me feel and say, and—and maybe even do things I've never imagined before. Things I don't understand and shouldn't be possible."

  Perceiving she was about to touch him, Urich sent a warning command not to. Gone would be the illusion he had to maintain; gone would be his resistance to the touch he craved.

  Her hand dropped to her side and she stared at him, her eyes too open, revealing all without inducement. She wanted to believe that the impossible was possible; and that made the convincing all too easy.

  "Tell me, Eva, how long did it take you to create this program, otherwise known as me?"

  "A year."

  "And the other?"

  "Half a day."

  "Well, there you have it. The difference between what you threw together in half a day and what you created by pouring your heart and soul into me." And she had, more than she could possibly know. What he was doing, it wasn't right. He'd told himself, again and again, that he would do what he had to do. But now that he was here, he knew that to betray Eva, even for the sake of his people, was a crime he'd rather die than commit. Would they kill him for aborting the mission? Not likely. He was too valuable, an asset to be used, however they liked—but not for this.

  Not for this.

  As Eva nodded, clearly embracing his flimsy reasoning, no technology to support it, Urich could feel his heart hurting, physically hurting while he braced himself for good-bye. And when he left, it had to be in the guise he'd come in. Where he came from and why, like himself, must remain secret.

  The decision made, he carefully veered Eva toward this best and achingly difficult end.

  "The other experiment is where your time should be spent, Eva. You can't duplicate the success you've had with me as long as you're neglecting your profession to indulge your personal needs. You could, of course, use me as you first planned, for experimental purposes." A logical option, only he wouldn't show up and she'd wear herself out trying to reclaim something that had never existed. That wasn't fair. How could he get her to put an end to this herself? How could he leave without touching her, once, just once again?

  "I don't like that idea," she told him. "Professional success be damned, you're mine and I'm not willing to share."

  "What you're saying just goes to show that you'd be better off without me." He
willed her to believe it so, and so it was, but his own will was too weak to force her agreement. Seeking to persuade her, Urich firmly advised, "send me away, Eva. Make it as though I've never been."

  "I can't. I need you, Urich."

  "No you don't. All you need is yourself."

  "Bullshit! I need to heal, learn to trust myself and others again. With you I've started to and—and don't you see how important you are to me?"

  "Eva." He shook his head, denying what he had nourished to the detriment of them both. "Don't you see the greatness of what you've done? You're an amazing woman who's been given a gift of genius. Your work is more than just that, because it's meant for the good of many. Find your fulfillment there and forget about me."

  Following the path of her thoughts, he knew she wanted nothing of that. For too long the good of many had driven her and for once, what about her? Her, damn it. And why was he trying to convince her she had no further need of him when he couldn't be more wrong. But how right she was in refusing to argue, certain her logic would be no match against his.

  How deftly her mind worked, concluding that her advantage was in the illogical, the heart. Knowing he couldn't compete with her there, Urich silently groaned.

  "There's no joy or fulfillment in dreams or work or anything else when you can't share it with someone who cares. That's what we're always reaching for, Urich, trying to fill that hollow spot inside. The one that's inside of everyone. Inside of me. But when I'm with you, it's like being filled. With you. With all that I can be. How you do it, I don't know, but you do and I want more. More of you. More of me."

  He commanded himself to be unmoved but it was a futile resistance. The plea in her voice touched him, deeply, reached inside his chest and squeezed the heart he'd thought incapable of feeling until Eva had brought it to life.

  More than alive, she made him feel too much. How could he leave and never see or touch her again? He was floundering against the tide of emotion, his every intention sucked under.

  "You fill me as well, Eva," came his slow, irrevocable confession. "If it's more that you want, then..." Don't! Give her what she wants and it's sure disaster. Disaster already, every which way he turned. He was in a hole so deep there was no way to get out. With a sigh of defeat, Urich gave himself up to the grave he continued to dig. "Then more you'll have," he finished, unable to fight the images of intimacy that filled his thoughts and sealed their fates.

  "Oh, Urich. I knew that you'd—" Eva stopped short. A ripple of sensual suggestion, there then gone, like a subliminal message flashed across the screen of her mind.

  Too fast to catch but it had the effect of a catalyst. A lock released and a gateway flung open, she suddenly found herself in a dark place that she feared to tread. This was where she hid her secret fantasies, those desires to be denied. But they were flooding out, rising against the dam of her inhibitions and demanding acknowledgement, appeasement.

  Urich's gaze bored into hers and a flurry of other images came at her, flashing quickly yet lingering somehow: Wrapped in a rainbow, the touch of mink, scents of mist and musk, legs tangled, dark and pale, Beauty embraced by the Beast.

  Her senses were reeling, and her breath, she was panting, all but hyperventilating in front of Urich. Urich, whose eyes were as glazed as her own surely were, as if he were in the throes of the same blinding passion taking her over without a shred of reason or mercy to cling to.

  Her lips began to pulse as if they were being kissed from the inside out, a kiss more intimate and complete than two mouths devouring each other could possibly devise.

  It was nearly impossible to speak, even to ask, "Are... are you... kissing me?"

  "Kissing, as I understand it, takes two—at least for both to enjoy it." His cryptic reply was accompanied by the sensation of a blunt nail sliding down her spine.

  "What are you doing to me?" Eva arched her back for more of whatever this marvelous thing was.

  "The question is, what are you imagining that you want me to do?"

  "I—I... kissing me. Touching me. Urich, please, make it happen."

  "Why don't you kiss me, touch me?"

  "Because I can't. Or... I don't think I can and so I'm afraid to try."

  "You tried before. And did."

  Aroused, dear Lord she'd never been so aroused. Or so relieved, elated. "Then it really happened and I didn't just convince myself of what I wanted to be true?"

  "You put your lips here." He fingered his neck, a savoring linger. "Mind over matter, Eva. It's like faith overcoming impossible odds. But nothing's impossible if you believe. You did it before. You can do it again."

  A halting step forward and she was engulfed by waves of pulsing energy. Inhaling it, tasting, willing it to consume her doubts and fears, she claimed his force as her own.

  Envisioning herself in his arms, Eva fell forward, wrapped her hands around—

  His neck. He was there, strong arms holding her, his lips hot and moist against her temple, they slid to her ear. "You feel like heaven."

  "I feel like I'm walking on water."

  "You could do that too," he assured her. "Or walk on coals without burning your feet. Anything you believe, you can do."

  "What I believe is..."

  "Tell me," he prompted, lifting her face to his.

  "I believe if I don't kiss you I'll die."

  "Death, like much of life, is an illusion."

  "Urich?"

  "Yes, Eva?"

  "Kiss me."

  Chapter 6

  Death. He was surely courting his. The mission went beyond anything so simple as Eva's technological advances. They needed her mind, but only in the genetic scheme of things. Hitler had dreamed of creating a superior race, but his was a poisoned intent, unlike their own.

  They had the male, but propagation was dependant on the woman selected as the perfect female specimen. Eva. She was reserved for a distinct purpose and no one, save the male, was to touch her in a sexual way.

  And here he was, filling his hands with her hair, her face, roaming hungrily over her back. Aborting the mission was cause to be stripped of rank, but claiming the means to their perfect race was the equivalent of treason, punishable by death according to law. If he wasn't found guilty of that, then Eva would likely kill him first with no more than a kiss.

  She sucked the very breath of life from his lips, only to sustain him with hers. It wasn't a fair exchange, but he was too greedy to deny himself the better bargain.

  She gave her mouth to him, freely, withholding nothing. And he took it all: soft, moist interior plundered by his searching tongue. The slickness of her teeth parting their guard and allowing him to explore every secret of her mouth.

  He knew of her secrets, the desires she feared to express even to herself. They were exotic, fascinating.

  And enormously arousing.

  They were sapping the control he was in danger of losing. His reason was deserting him as well, lost somewhere in their kiss. Her mouth was a warm, encasing womb, breeding his need to mate with more than tongues and minds. Deeper, she was urgently pleading in silence.

  So deep he went, he licked at the threshold of her throat. The sound of her mewling whimpers called to the beast surging inside him, straining against the leash of his slipping hold.

  You'll savage her, you know that you will. This is your way, but it's not hers. Focus. Focus on Eva. Hear her.

  What he heard was the rustle of sheets, the leap of candles, a night in white satin. She was imagining him taking her in a manner far different from his own primal urgings.

  But then her urgings shifted, the sinuous flow of their lovemaking giving way to a primitive awakening. Urich responded before he could command himself not to. One hand on her hip, his fingers snared the waistband of her skirt, jerked down, rending the fabric and giving him access to the soft flesh he seized.

  His other hand in her hair twisted, binding his wrist and securing his hold over the throat he exposed. His head reared back and he fixed he
r with the ferocity of his gaze. It matched his bared teeth, his snarl.

  Eva was transfixed, unable to move she was so stunned. Her excitement intensified even as apprehension took hold. Urich was looking at her as though he were a starved animal about to devour a meal alive.

  She was that meal. And they were all alone.

  He made that beastly sound again and her apprehension became a shudder of fright.

  "Why—why are you looking at me like that? And what is that strange sound you're making?"

  Silence. It pulsed like the beat of a war drum. A stalking announcement to precede a savage attack.

  "Submit to me and open your legs."

  Her heart rose to the throat he was eyeing and her stomach bottomed out. No romance, no foreplay beyond a mind-bending kiss? Not even a token seduction?

  Her fear bowed to a swift outrage.

  "I don't submit to anyone and I most certainly will not open my legs."

  "But if you don't, I—I don't know what I'll do. I need what's between them, need it too much. Give it to me."

  "What is between them is mine and I have no intentions of sharing it with you!" Her glare packed the punch of a knee to a groin.

  Urich blinked. Once. Twice. That click, click computer-like assimilation that seemed the only normal thing about him.

  He released her hair.

  The drum slowed its beat, fading until the silence was absolute as the void.

  Eva glanced at his hand still clenched into her bared hip. What had initially excited her caused her to wince.

  "Let go."

  He did. So fast she couldn't track the movement. Lord, David Copperfield and Houdini combined couldn't pull a slight-of-hand that quick. How Urich did it was yet another piece to the puzzle he was.

  Puzzle be damned. She was so mad she wanted to slap him. And then she wanted to cry. He had turned something wonderful into an ugly, crude blow.

  "You tore my skirt," she accused.

  He bowed to her. "I'm sorry, Eva."