Lucien returned an item to the table. “I have kept you alive for one reason and one reason alone. You will tell me where the Solomonarii lair is and where Demetrius Borimirov sleeps.”
Tatiana nearly laughed aloud. She realized her mistake in thinking this gargoyle was simply arrogant. He was also delusional.
He moved toward her. “I see you find humor in all this. Perhaps you do not understand the seriousness of your situation.”
His attention went to the small window near the ceiling. Shafts of pale light had begun to pour in. The morning was upon them. Tatiana held her breath, for she knew what happened to gargoyles during the day. Once he became stone, she would have hours to attempt an escape.
At that moment a swell of golden sunrise poured in through the window. Lucien’s eyes drifted shut and he inhaled deeply. His head fell back as if in welcome to the change. But it wasn’t the change that Tatiana had been expecting. Lucien’s wings faded into cinder and were swept up by a sudden breeze. His horns shrank into his skull and his body began to morph. Witchcraft, she thought with certainty. How the hell had a clan of rogue gargoyles come by a spell like that?
She wasn’t given any time to ponder, for the vision before her was unbelievable. Lucien had become a man—a very tall and powerful man. As if by their own accord, her eyes trailed the length of him in awe. His legs were long and sinewy in the form-fitting pants. His waist was lean, his abdomen hard—a patchwork of rippling muscles. Her eyes went higher still. His chest and arms were a glorious expanse of firm, bronzed strength that was draped in the length of his dark hair. And his face, now turned toward her, was a chiseled masterpiece, centered with the most compelling silver-blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was beautiful. Something began to simmer within her, coming quickly to a rapid boil that was in no way like anything she’d experienced.
His eyes were fastened on her as he advanced another step, eliminating the distance between them. “You have two choices,” he told her. “You can provide me with nothing and I will leave you to the mercy of my clan, or you can be wise and save yourself much grief.”
He reached out and pulled off her leather mask. Her thick, ink-black hair fell down her back.
Tatiana met his stare with a defiant one of her own. “I’ll consider myself warned.”
For what seemed an eternity he gazed at her, his eyes assessing as they combed her face. “So young you are,” he said at last. “So naive. Do you even know why we fight this war?”
His question caught her off guard and she found herself lured by the intensity of his stare. For a fleeting instant she caught a glimpse of something deeper within him, a weariness that could be brewed only over centuries of endless fighting.
As quickly as it had appeared, it dissipated and was replaced by the hard stare of before. “You will tell me the location of the Solomonarii lair and you will do so now,” Lucien demanded.
Tatiana’s heart began to drum again, but she wasn’t certain it was all motivated by fear. In this form Lucien didn’t seem so intimidating, although he was no doubt just as ruthless. There was just something about having a half-naked and absolutely gorgeous male within an inch of her that was unsettling.
One of Lucien’s large hands moved to toy with the zipper of her catsuit. “I am a creature of little patience and I am accustomed to being obeyed,” he told her as he tugged on the zipper.
The soft rasp of her catsuit separating down the middle seemed to fill the room. Lucien watched her as if trying to read her thoughts, but she was giving away nothing. There was no way she would allow him to see the effect his nearness was having on her. He was her enemy and should evoke only hatred within her.
“We have many lairs,” she told him purposefully. “We’re everywhere, even in your nightmares.”
His eyes narrowed and he braced an arm above her head and glared down at her now exposed chest and midsection. She wore a black halter bra beneath her catsuit.
“Let us try this again.” His deep voice rumbled within his chest as his lean fingers moved to the small tie that held her bra together. He tugged it and the knot slipped loose. “You will reveal to me the location of the Solomonarii lair.”
Tatiana tried to steady her breathing as Lucien’s strong fingers slipped inside her garment. The warmth of his calloused hand enveloped her full breasts in a demanding caress. She suppressed a shudder. She could feel her nipples growing taut and she cursed herself. How could she be aroused by her enemy, this beast, this…gargoyle?
Lucien lowered his lips against the softness of her cheek. “I’ll not ask you again.” He spoke evenly, but the warning was more than apparent.
She swallowed. “It’s hidden beyond the Pricopan hills,” she lied—anything to cease this torture.
Lucien grunted. “How far beyond the hills?”
“About twenty miles,” Tatiana breathed.
Before she could anticipate his next move, Lucien dipped his head. His hard mouth fastened over one of her now very erect nipples and he devoured her, suckling greedily at the ripe mound of flesh.
With every ounce of her being Tatiana battled the desire that was fast mounting within her. Her mind screamed no, but her body loved the scent of him, the feel of his nearness, and the demanding pressure of his lips. It was as if, for some twisted reason, she found this creature irresistible.
She gasped as he found her other nipple. “I’ve told you everything I know,” she managed between breaths.
Never had she been touched this way. Never had she been violated so. Demetrius had seen to it that she’d had no time for relationships. Such liaisons were distractions that a true sorceress avoided, he’d often told her. So at twenty-three she was still a virgin. Sex wasn’t a complete mystery to her, for she’d often eavesdropped on the conversations of her older clan members. But listening to the talk of a few young witches and having a full-grown and partially nude male caressing her body were two entirely different things.
When Lucien’s head came up again, the silver of his eyes flashed with a dangerous mixture of emotions, desire and impatience among them.
Strong hands began to slip the leather catsuit from her shoulders. “Do you think me a fool? The Pricopan hills are a wasteland.”
Bare from the waist up now, Tatiana tried to suppress the shameful sensation that was enveloping her. She told herself that it wasn’t desire she felt for this creature, but a contrived emotion that was the result of the witchcraft he’d used to transform himself. In her present weakened state, she was simply more susceptible to it. She would fight it. But with him so near, with his eyes glinting dangerously down at her and with the wild ends of his long hair brushing her erect nipples, it was a task not so easily accomplished.
She must have waited too long to respond, for Lucien slipped the leather belt from her waist. The heavy silver buckle clinked onto the floor. It seemed he would speak, but then his eyes were drawn to a spot on the slope of her shoulder. Tatiana followed his gaze to the crescent-shaped birthmark there.
Lucien brushed aside the ebony tendrils that partially concealed it. His fingers traced the smooth edges, and when he looked at her again his gaze was contemplative. She waited, wondering what was going through that beautiful head of his.
After a moment his gaze slid down her body again, caressing her breasts and trailing lustfully over her firm midsection. “We do not have to be enemies,” he said quietly. “Your desire for me is apparent. Tell me everything I wish to know, and I will reward you with a night of pleasure. I may even allow you to live.”
Tatiana couldn’t believe her ears. The sheer arrogance of this gargoyle was unbelievable. To think that she would willingly give herself to him, her enemy, was preposterous. His craft was potent, but not that potent.
“I’d sooner be burned at the stake than lie with your kind,” she scoffed.
His eyes narrowed again and she shuddered. She had to remind herself that she was trying to stay alive here. Provocation was not in her best interest.
&n
bsp; Lucien, however, didn’t seem deterred by her display of disgust. He pulled her catsuit open as far as the zipper would permit. Without a word, he traced his fingers from her navel down into the sheer thong that was just visible above the black leather.
Despite herself, Tatiana found that her body yearned for his touch. It was all she could do to stifle the moans within her throat.
Lucien’s calloused fingers found the soft place between her thighs and one slipped into her hot and moist core. With no regard for the warning bells sounding in her head, Tatiana’s body clenched around him, expelling another wave of liquid heat.
The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Lucien’s mouth. “As I thought,” he breathed against her ear. “My offer still stands. Do you accept?”
Tatiana was momentarily incapable of rational thought, let alone speech. She’d been taken by fever, a scorching hunger that burned within the very place his hand was lodged. She’d never imagined her body capable of such feelings.
Lucien’s finger penetrated her a little deeper as he waited for her response.
She gasped, arching her back as a bolt of unimaginable pleasure soared through her. “Yes,” she blurted out before she could think about what she was saying.
Lucien drew back, his beautiful eyes flashing anticipation and satisfaction. Tatiana couldn’t believe that she’d just accepted his proposal. Her lips parted to retract her agreement, but it was too late. With a feral growl, Lucien’s hard mouth descended upon hers, slaughtering any objections with a savage kiss.
Without taking his lips from hers, Lucien drew a blade from his waistband and brought it around the wooden stake to sever the bindings that secured her hands in place. She had no time to enjoy her new freedom, for he swept her up and a second later she found herself on her back on the wooden table.
His mouth descended on her again and their lips mated in a forbidden orgy of passion and lust. His large hands moved over her body, stripping the leather catsuit from her in the process.
Shamelessly Tatiana welcomed his touch. Her hands began to move over him, relishing the sleek and powerful muscles that rippled over his back and arms. She tried to convince herself that it was her determination to survive that had made her accept his offer and not the intense attraction she felt toward him. All she had to do was delay him until her clan came to rescue her, as she was certain they would.
Lucien peeled her thong down her slender legs, then stood back to gaze upon her. Lying naked on the table before him, Tatiana drew her arms about her as his licentious gaze raked her body. Fear fluttered within the pit of her belly. She’d never been with a man before, let alone a feral creature whose desires, no doubt, possessed no moral boundaries.
A deep growl escaped him and Lucien gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table. He spread her legs wide and his mouth fell between them. Tatiana gasped as her body jerked into an involuntary arch. Her fingers wound themselves in his thick hair as she pressed his face deeper into her. This is wrong, her mind screamed. His mouth shouldn’t feel this good. His huge and muscle-ripped body shouldn’t stir a desire in her to touch him, pull him closer.
Lucien feasted upon her like a man starved. His hot mouth enveloped the delicate folds of her womanhood, tasting, licking and gently biting. It wasn’t long before Tatiana cried out with reckless abandon as every inch of her body began to tremble.
Lucien straightened. The silver of his eyes was wreathed with a fiery red as he regarded her. He stepped between her thighs and freed his thick and pulsing shaft from the confines of his pants.
Tatiana waited, holding her breath. And when he pressed into her, she cried out in both pain and pleasure.
Surprisingly, Lucien was a gentle lover. He filled her completely, leaving no inch of her sacred, each thrust calculated to bring her pleasure. Tatiana forgot about the war; she forgot that they were enemies, and as her body trembled with a second orgasm, she even forgot that he was a creature of the darkness—a gargoyle.
Chapter 3
Lucien stood on the roof of the old factory as he watched the evening approaching. Seven members of his clan had been killed and eight wounded during the surprise attack the previous night. His mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t believe that he’d just made love to the woman who’d infiltrated his home and killed his people—his enemy. A Solomonarii.
Never had he crossed that line with any prisoner, no matter how beautiful she was. But one glance at her and he’d been drawn within those lovely eyes. He’d fought the desire that had possessed him, but it had been too potent. He’d found himself wanting her as he’d never wanted anything.
With a heavy sigh he raked his hands through his hair. He was a disgrace, for he’d not only succumbed to his enemy’s sorcery, but even with this knowledge he still found himself wanting her.
His people hungered for revenge, yet he waited.
There was no need to go after the Solomonarii, for he was certain they would be coming to him. There were a few things that the Solomonarii held in high regard, and one of them was an Ananovian child born beneath the crescent moon.
The Ananovian clan was a superior race of witches that resided in eastern Romania, but could be found scattered across the west and south among the gargoyle lairs. The Ananovians had aided the gargoyles centuries ago in battle and to this day still fought to contain the evil of the Solomonarii. Their clans were not only joined by a common purpose, but also by prophecy. Years ago it was predicted that one of the gargoyle clan and one of the Ananovian kinship would be brought together by destiny. It was said that they would ascend from the earth, wreathed in flame and draped in silver. This union would give rise to an era of change, reinstalling peace throughout the land. Of course, Lucien wasn’t about to wait around for a prophecy to be fulfilled. He had his own ideas on how peace should be restored.
Lucien was certain that Tatiana was of the Ananovian clan and that she’d been one of the revered children. Every ten years such a child was born. Marked at birth and gifted with abilities beyond anything imaginable, she was supposed to become a protector of her people. The Ananovians considered these children sacred and guarded them with their lives, for it was customary for the Solomonarii to kidnap the chosen ones and raise them as warriors for their own clan.
Her birthmark was unmistakable, and the spells she’d conjured were too powerful for one so young. Although she deserved death for the vicious attack on his people, Lucien couldn’t just kill her. If she was indeed Ananovian, then she, too, was a victim of the Solomonarii. That also meant that her death was impending. Each Ananovian witch captured by the Solomonarii was killed before her twenty-fifth birthday, when she would have achieved her full capabilities. Demetrius Borimirov was a jealous warlock who abided none more powerful than himself.
No, Lucien thought, her death would avenge nothing. In fact, he felt a moral obligation to protect her, for hundreds of years ago, when he was but a child, the Ananovian clan had saved his life and that of his mother during a Solomonarii raid. He’d watched his father die that day, and his mother had been left for dead. An Ananovian warlock had found him and his mother alive and taken them to an Ananovian lair. For seven days his mother had been delirious with fever, but the Ananovians had nursed her back to health, all the while keeping him safe. The Ananovians had later fashioned a spell for his clan so that they would become human by day instead of suffering the imprisonment of stone. This favor was granted to them because the witches knew that he and all those who followed him were working relentlessly to stop the one man who had caused the Ananovians so much grief.
Lucien turned his back to the colors now branding the sky. Less than an hour of daylight remained and he was exhausted. He headed back inside. He would need his strength when the Solomonarii arrived.
He’d relayed his plan to the members of his clan, many of whom didn’t agree with his decision to wait for the Solomonarii to come. But he was the leader, and his will was obeyed without question.
On the firs
t floor he stalked toward a set of double doors. Two of his warriors standing guard pushed the doors open, permitting him through. The room beyond was vacant, with a single wide hatch in the floor. He pulled it open, revealing a wide stairway. The factory was just a guise, for his people dwelled underground.
He descended into the hatch and then into a passage lit by torchlight. Archways led in different directions, but he continued forward. Members of his clan paused and bowed their heads respectfully as he passed. He acknowledged them with a gesture but maintained his pace. Despite himself, he was eager to see her again.
He gripped the bronze handle of the heavy door that guarded his bedchamber. He slipped a key into it, casting a glance down the darkened passage before releasing the lock. He’d managed to keep the extent of his interrogation from the eyes of his clan members and he intended to keep it that way.
Lucien turned the handle and pushed the door open. Tatiana stood at the foot of the large, canopied, cast-iron bed. Before her, she balanced a large gilded mirror in midair. Her attention snapped to him and the mirror dropped, shattering.
He spared the item a glance, then his eyes trailed the length of her. She’d wrapped herself in a sheet and her long hair spilled in chaotic rivulets over her shoulders and down her back. She looked so enchanting that he took another moment to gaze upon her and was again assailed by an overwhelming emotion.
He entered the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked toward her, she didn’t move, only glared at him with those wide and defiant eyes. His heavy boots crunched on the broken mirror as he walked over it and came to tower above her.
“I see your abilities have returned.” He spoke quietly as his eyes fixed on her full mouth. “You would be wise not to attempt an escape. You would be dead before you reached the surface.”
Prisoner of Temptation Page 2