Betrayal: The Awakening

by Kira Hillins

  She gave a throaty laugh as if she’d come from a festival of cackling witches. “Do not underestimate love for need. He is only after the same thing I am.” She touched his face with the back of her palm and stroked his shadowed jaw. “You are quite beautiful. Fall to your knees.”

  An image of Madeline’s naked body swam through his mind. Jack despised the thought of her caressing him as they made love. In a sick, twisted way the vision aroused him.

  She lured him, enchanted him. He fell to his knees. She climbed onto his lap. He shut his eyes tight to block her out, but her touch was sensual.

  “I won’t…” he whispered through clenched teeth. “I won’t give in to you.”

  “You want me, my love.” Madeline nuzzled his neck, licking at the previous wound she’d made with her teeth. “I sensed it the moment you laid eyes on me.”

  Jack groaned as she unbuttoned his shirt. How he longed for her touch, this woman who made him ill with every fiber in his body. He wanted her in a despicable way, just once before he hated her again.

  With a growl, he threw her to the cold floor. She laughed in delight as he lifted her dress to her waist. His subconscious told him to stop, but his mind and body wouldn’t follow. He entered her hard, fast. She screamed with every thrust of his hips.

  He gritted his teeth. “You wicked, evil bitch.”

  Anna’s face ran through his mind. His heart ached. How could he betray her like this when he loved her more than anything? Why couldn’t he control his emotions for this dark, beautiful creature he made love to?

  No. He and Anna made love. What he did to Madeline now was despicable and perverted. The thought brought him back to his senses, but it was too late. With an exasperating shout, it was over.

  He pulled away from her. He glared as she laughed at him, panting in excitement, running her hands over her breasts. “Oh, you are a beast.” She moaned in ecstasy. “I promise to keep you around when this is all over.”

  Jack hunched over to catch his breath. Hate and disgust tore through him, not just for Madeline. He was despicable and weak-minded to not be able to resist her.

  “Do you think if you win, you’ll still have this power over people? You’ll be mortal like everyone else.”

  “I crave mortality.”

  “You’ve lived already. Don’t take Anna when her life’s just begun.” He leaned back against the wall.

  “You’re in love with her, and yet, I am sure Tristan has stolen her heart by now. He is quite charming. Women fall in love with him easily.” She frowned. “We were in love once, until my husband killed himself. My poor husband. He loved me more than the night.”

  “I don’t blame him for committing suicide.” Jack snickered at his comment. “I imagine he was as disgusted with you as I am.”

  Madeline hummed a short tune before her lips curved up into another dark grin. “I can feel his connection to her growing stronger. My creation covets a prize, and yet, he refuses to acknowledge his heart beats for a different reason. This could benefit me greatly, not only in revenge, but to take back what is mine.”

  “If you’re so alone, why don’t you find someone who’s willing to take you as you are?”

  Madeline cocked her head to the side. “You mean someone like you?”

  “I’d stay with you if it meant saving Anna’s life. Forget about her and take me instead.” He hoped she’d take him up on his offer. “I’ll…feed you until my veins run dry if I have to.”

  She laughed heartily. “You are amusing and flattering, Jack. But I have waited too long for this, and I will not let it pass. I deserve life. I deserve to have my husband’s children. But do not think you will get away easily, for I shall have my fill of your body and blood before my night turns to day.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Conflicted

  Anna hugged her torso as she paced in front of the dwindling fire. The bedroom was getting cold and there was no more wood left to throw on the fire. That didn’t stop the heat from burning inside her. Anger kept her going from one end of the castle to the other in search of Tristan.

  He’d left without a word of where he was going or when he’d be back. After the fit she’d thrown in the library—no regrets—she wondered if he’d left her here for good. At least that gave her the opportunity to start reading Mac’s journal.

  A chill shimmied up her spine. She didn’t want to be all alone in this castle. She hadn’t had a wink of sleep since she’d gotten here. This place was fine during the day, but the nights were unnerving. All the eerie sounds that echoed sounded like ghosts wandering outside her door.

  Maybe she should take that awful trek down the mountain and go home. She missed her apartment on the west side of the city. It was only a block away from her favorite café. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee called to her every morning before work. The scent of breakfast cooking on their grill was like heaven. She’d give anything for a hot mocha latte and a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich right now.

  Anna gritted her teeth. Two days and it had felt like an eternity, partly because she kept to this room. Fear of the cold, fear of the dark, what god awful thing would happen next? Maybe the castle would slide off this mountain with her inside.

  The whistles and moans behind the door were endless. She didn’t want to face whatever lurked out there, but she could imagine. Nightmarish shadows stretched their arms toward her. Red eyes glowed in the dark as they watched in wait for her to come out. They’d reach for her with a craving for blood, and then devour her the second she opened the door.

  On the rare occasion she’d fallen asleep, she’d dream of the dead woman. When she woke, she was desperate to run to her dark prince in hopes he might console her, but he was gone.

  She sat on the bed and picked up Mac’s journal. He’d written about his nightly conversations with Tristan. She was just about to read how the two met when the moans outside the door had distracted her. Now that the wind had died down, the voices had quieted and she could concentrate as she read.

  His eyes were red when he stumbled in to the bar. It was around 3 a.m. I had already closed up for the night, but I could tell, even though I was scared, that this lost soul needed my help. I hoped he wouldn’t kill me before I could offer it to him.

  I could tell from the blood on his clothes and face that hunger hadn’t driven him here. Maybe he sensed my link to his world, my belief in who he was.

  The ending of his entry bothered her. What had driven Tristan to Mac’s bar? If he was covered in blood then maybe that was the night he’d killed her father. Then, she didn’t believe in that theory anymore. If Tristan didn’t kill her parents, who had?

  She leaned back on the bed. Her thoughts wandered to Jack. The poor man had sounded worried sick on the phone. She imagined him in the hotel room pacing, wearing the carpet down. Or maybe he’d hired the military to hunt for her. They’d come for her, guns loaded, cocked and ready to take out this evil, desolate mountain. But what would happen to Tristan?

  She rolled to her side. Why did she even care? He’d shoved her to the floor like she was more diseased than he was. Her rump was still sore from the fall, but her heart was broken more.

  He’d better show up tonight or I’m leaving on my own. This time, I won’t come back.

  She hated the dreadful journey down the mountain, but she’d manage to do it again. It’d be nice to be able to take a leap off the balcony. She could glide down like a feather against the wind, taking in the scenery before landing ever so softly on the ground. How did he fly? Did he have wings? An invisible parachute? Whatever it was, she wished she had that power.

  The doorknob jiggled. Anna sat up rigid in the bed. Goosebumps spread over her body like wildfire as the door creaked open. At first, there was only shadow. An irrepressible chill clawed at her back as she thought of the ghosts. Those awful creatures had made their way into reality, and they were here for her.

  Tristan stepped into the room with a stack of firewood in his arms. He
set the pile on the floor near the wall then tossed a log into the dying flames. He picked up the poker from the hearth, and then stoked the fire, sending tiny fragments of burning ash upward.

  The anger that had kept her warm for two days, turned into a blaze. A scream worked up her throat, but she pursed her lips to keep it bottled inside.

  Three nights without a word and he waltzes into the room without acknowledging me? Not even the slightest hello or I’m back to let me know all is okay in the world?

  She hopped off the bed. Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone as she made her way to him. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Those damn black eyes mocked her. She slapped his face. Her fingernails scraped across his cheek, breaking his pale skin. His head turned to the side from the impact. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

  Black blood beaded on the surface of his skin. It was so strange to see up close. She was mesmerized by it. She wanted to touch it to find out if it was as icy as his skin. If she could study this strange phenomenon, she might find an antidote to his illness, and maybe even the answers to the universe.

  She gasped. This was what Mac had wanted her to do. His dying wish was to find Tristan. To study the possibilities of what his blood might hold. If he claimed he was dead, his black blood would hold no living cells. But, if no cells flowed through his body, what kept him moving? What kept his brain functioning? There had to be a more logical explanation other than an illness.

  Remembering the slap, and the reason behind it, she stood rigid. “You’ve left me alone here for three nights.” She spoked in a well-mannered tone. “I was…worried.”

  Tristan raised his hand to his cheek. His blood smeared on his fingertips. “Should I be privileged?”

  She stuck her nose in the air. “Take it how you want. After the way you treated me, I don’t care.”

  “I suppose I should be pleased,” he said in a cynical tone. “I understand a woman has needs, but I fear you have fallen in love with me too easily.”

  “You’re quite full of yourself. Just like a man. Oh, but you’re just a diseased vampire.” As she backed away, he followed. If he wanted to play games, then she’d play them too, just to see how far she could take him before he went raging mad. “A man should know how to treat a woman. You’ve been nothing but disrespectful.” She bumped into the bedside. Unable to back up any further, she straightened her stance. “You’re a coward. Afraid to show your true feelings for fear you’ll find a heart.”

  “I have no feelings for you, whatsoever.”

  She tried to think of something to say to make him feel the humiliation he put her through. “Maybe this Madeline regretted getting involved with you. Maybe you couldn’t please her in the way she wanted.”

  “Do not speak of things you do not understand.”

  Ah, a weak spot. “I bet you killed Gerard to get him out of the way. When she found out, she went to someone else. I bet that man made her feel like a real woman, something you obviously don’t know how to do.”

  Nothing she said fazed him. That stupid grin on his face, as if he’d won the contest of wits, made her angrier instead. She slapped him again, harder this time, though careful not to scratch his skin. He returned his gaze with that same irritating, uncaring expression.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” She gritted her teeth, biting back profanities.

  “How do you perceive this look?”

  “You’re mocking me.”

  He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear then pressed his cool palm against her burning cheek. “Anna.”

  “I hate you!” She threw another slap across his face. “I don’t want to be here with you anymore.”

  “I am sorry you feel that way, but I cannot allow you to leave now.”

  The apprehension in his voice made her shudder. Something had changed. The cocky man she’d left in the library a few nights ago, the one she just slapped thrice, was no longer there. This man looked worried, and he tried to hide it.

  Why?” She fisted his jacket. “What are you protecting me from?”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets, lowered his head, and then switched his stance. He was refusing to answer. The answer must be in Mac’s journal. She’d need to read on, because she wasn’t getting anything out of Tristan.

  “Mac told me I could help you with something that you and I are involved in. What is it?”

  Tristan’s gaze snapped to hers. That frightening hint of red showed in his eyes. “You misunderstood him.”

  “He kept a journal, Tristan. It’s rather intriguing reading all about your past and your weaknesses.” She lifted the journal from her backpack, and then flipped through to the page she left off a few moments ago.

  “He spoke of a woman named Madeline. He’d loved her for months before he found out she was married to his best friend. How awful that would’ve been for him.”

  “What is this?” His nose wrinkled as he growled.

  This was how she’d get to him, to humiliate him by reading his life story. When his canines bent out of shape, she broke out into a wicked grin. “His friend threw himself out a window. Hey! Just like you told me. According to him, this sent Madeline into her state of madness. He’d held no hatred for her until she came to find him weeks later, only to destroy his house with him in it. Hmm…A very intriguing passage in Mac’s journal, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Do not read any more!” His voice, distraught, rose above hers as she continued on.

  “He became a vampire in the end. This is what I believe, anyway. He denies it, believing she’d spread her disease into him. So he’s lived like this for centuries. I feel sorry for him. His depressive state saddens me. But I’m saddened more for you.” Chills spread over her so fast they hurt. “You are the child he’s brought to me and Betty. And unfortunately, you are the key to his redemption. You are…”

  “Enough!” Tristan yanked the journal from her hands then tossed it into the fire.

  “No!” Anna lunged to retrieve it. He slid his arm around her waist and held her back. She struggled to break loose; yearning to save the answers, desperate to save her father’s last words, but it was too late. The book blazed. The pages curled, and then it became unsalvageable.

  When Tristan let her go, she fell to her knees. She crawled to the fire as the remnants of paper disintegrated.

  “What have you done?” Tears fell from her eyes. “His words, even though they were about you, brought me close to him again, like he spoke to me. But now…Tristan, why? Why did you do that?”

  “Forgive me, Anna.” His once angry voice was now soothing. “Mac did not understand the things he wrote about.”

  She glared at him through swollen eyes. “After everything he did for you, you’re going to repay his friendship by calling him a liar? And don’t you dare tell me you’re doing it for my sake. I’m not a child anymore, Tristan.”

  He lowered his brows. “Enough of your nonsense.”

  Her heart ached. As if possessed by a ghost who looked for a way to escape from whatever bound it here, she felt lost. She lowered her head to her folded arms and broke down into a sob.

  Tristan helped her to her feet. He stroked the back of her head. “Forgive me for my coldness, but I am not used to being in the company of a woman I care for.”

  She fell into his dark gaze. Calm worked through her, as if she nestled with him in front of this roaring fire. As his fingers caressed her back, electricity coursed through her. She longed for his touch, for the coolness of his breath on her skin.

  His muscles tensed as she helped him out of his coat. “I need you.” She lifted his hand to her face then leaned her cheek onto his palm. She hoped he’d find the moment, to give in and feel the warmth she offered. “Kiss me.”

  He drew in a breath. He brought his other hand to her face then grasped hard, emphasizing his frustration. She waited for him to shove her away, to make her fall against the hard stone floor and humiliate her again, but he pulled her t
o him.

  His tongue swept into her mouth. His taste was sweet and as cool as a treat on a hot summer’s day. His touch was just as cold as he slid his hands over her bare shoulders to her arms. Her skin rose with goosebumps as he lifted the gown off her body then tossed it to the floor. His mouth met hers again as he backed her to the bed. As she lay on the soft comforter, she parted her legs and let him in.

  The coolness of his slacks slid against her heated skin. She was desperate to release his long, hard shaft that rubbed between her thighs. The ache to feel him inside her became unbearable.

  She ran her hands down his broad chest, unbuttoning his shirt on the way. He shivered beneath her touch as she pushed the garment over his broad shoulders and down the length of his arms. His body was beautiful, as pale as the linen gown he’d slid from her body, but strong.

  She unbuttoned his slacks. “I need you inside me,” she whispered, closing her eyes as he breathed into her neck, kissing, biting. He exhaled in a low throaty growl as he massaged his way down her hip, working his hand inside her undergarment. He slipped his finger against her clit and a jolt of electricity zapped through her. She gasped, but he silenced her with his mouth.

  She slid her hand inside his slacks. When she enclosed her hand around his cock, he groaned. His voice sent goosebumps over her as she stroked while her other hand shoved at his pants until he was exposed.

  This was it. She had found her way into his heart, and his bed. No longer would they need to be separated by grief or lack of trust. They would face the world together.

  He swept his lips down her chin to her neck. His biting became more intense. By the sharpness of his teeth, he meant to drink her in. He could make her like him, and she would accept it.

  “Do what you want with me.” She lifted her chin. “Make me yours in every way.”

  *

  Tristan rose from the bed. He staggered across the floor to the wall beside the fireplace. He leaned back and gave a loud, angry shout, horrified at what he’d almost done. His body ached for her, but the monster inside him desired to rip out her throat and drink every last drop of her essence.