by Lisa Childs
“She wasn’t really after you. The stalker was mine—then and now,” he said, his breath rattling in his bandaged chest, as his eyes filled with guilt and misery. “She was threatening you because of me.”
“She? Who’s she?” The question slipped out. Paige really didn’t want to interrogate him now; he wasn’t as recovered as she’d initially thought.
“A woman I dated a lifetime ago.” He coughed, then grimaced.
She crossed to the couch and dropped to her knees before him. “Seb—” She wasn’t certain what to call him now that she knew who he really was. But she couldn’t call this man—who looked younger than she was, this man she’d considered her brother, her father. “Sebastian, shhh…”
“I’m so, so sorry, Paige.”
She reached for his hand, holding it in both of hers. “Don’t get worked up.”
“It was my fault,” he said, his fingers clutching at hers.
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t bring this on—no matter what you did.” He was a playboy; she’d thought he’d taken after their father in that respect. But it wasn’t genetic; it was just habit.
“I didn’t know she had problems,” he said, “when I started seeing her. I didn’t realize how dangerous she was.”
“She could have killed you.” She swallowed hard, choking on emotion. He might have left her forever this time. “She intended to kill you.”
“I thought she was gone,” he said, “after she attacked me the last time years ago. I didn’t think she’d come back again.”
“Where is she now?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug, and he grimaced. “I don’t know.”
“We need to call Kate and report your attack like Renae wanted to.”
Sebastian grimaced again. “Oh, God, Renae…I thought I was paging Ben.”
“I don’t know how you managed to page anyone,” she said. “You should have called the police instead of Ben.”
He sighed. “I would have called anyone…but Renae.”
“Then let’s call the police now,” she suggested, “I should have called Kate earlier, when Renae wanted to, but I had no idea what was going on.”
“You shouldn’t know—you can’t know what I am, what happened—”
“I was with Ben when Renae called him,” she explained. “I knew you were hurt.”
Sebastian squeezed her hands. “You should have stayed away. Ben saved me.” He sighed. “Again.”
“But she’s still out there,” she reminded him. “She could and probably will try again. Kate needs to find her before she does.”
“No,” he said, and squeezed her hands so tightly that she winced. “You’ll get your friend killed. This society—it has its own laws and rules. It doesn’t abide by the laws of mortals. Kate has no authority Underground.”
“Who does?” she asked, then wondered aloud, “Ben?” She’d noticed how every one of her patrons had seemed to know and respect him. She hadn’t suspected anything amiss then because Dr. Davison was a world-renowned cardiologist. She hadn’t realized it wasn’t just this world. “Is that why he’s allowed to live even though he’s a mortal who knows the secret?”
“No, no, not Ben,” Sebastian weakly protested.
“He can’t help?”
“No, he can’t.” That muscle twitched in his jaw again as he clenched it tightly.
His reaction had the hair rising on the nape of Paige’s neck. “Has something happened to Ben?”
“He’s gone.”
“I know—he’s not here. Why isn’t he here?” He might have left her over the years, but Ben had never left a patient who obviously still needed him.
“The Ben you love,” Sebastian continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “is gone.”
She stared at him, trying to understand what he meant. Then she noted the tears glittering in the depths of his eyes, and she got it. As if someone had driven a stake through her heart, pain pierced it, and she doubled over.
Sebastian closed his eyes, trying to shut out his daughter’s anguish—and his own guilt. “I’m so sorry, Paige. I’ve made such a mess of your life. I never should have come back.”
“You thought I was in danger,” she reminded him. “But it was you…and Ben who got hurt.”
If he hadn’t come back, though, if he hadn’t taken that stake all those years ago, she might have. And being human, she wouldn’t have survived an injury like that. Ben wouldn’t have been able to save her.
“I should have left,” he said, “when I got better. I should have taken off then, since she was gone. But, when he saved me, Ben had figured out the secret. And knowing it put him in danger.”
A sob slipped through Paige’s quivering lips. “Obviously…”
“I was there. I saw it, but I was still too weak to help him.” He’d known Ben was in danger and had been trying to warn him…but he hadn’t realized that Ingrid was the threat.
He shuddered. “All these times he’s helped me, and I did nothing for him.” But lay there and watch it happen. “I’m sorry, Paige.”
Because of him, she’d lost the man she loved all over again.
Lifting his fingers to his neck, Ben probed the fang marks. It hadn’t just been a nightmare.
“Why’d you do it?” he asked Ingrid, who stood in the shadows of his bedroom. She’d brought him back to his house, probably through the Underground tunnels. Being a vampiress, she was superhuman strong. No, just strong—she wasn’t human at all. And now thanks to her, neither was he.
“I had to.”
He shook his head, which was just a weak turn of his neck so that it shifted against the pillow.
“To protect you,” she explained. “That little speech you gave a few nights ago, threatening us to stay away from your ex, pissed off a lot of people.”
“What happened to Sebastian had nothing to do with my speech. It was her…that woman who came after him a decade ago.”
Ingrid’s dark eyes widened with horror. “She came back? That crazy woman?”
Pot meet kettle. After what she’d done to him, the vampiress had no right to criticize another member of the society. But Ben held back his anger. He’d already proved no match for Ingrid’s madness.
“Yeah, and she’s still out there. So he’s still in danger.” And so probably was Paige, since the woman’s threats against her had been what had brought Sebastian back to his daughter.
“She got away?”
Ben nodded. “Just like last time. She was gone before I got there.” He didn’t even know what this woman looked like.
“And if she comes back sooner, to finish what she tried doing to him, I might be too weak to help him.” Or Paige. “If something happens again—” he could lift his arm now, could move, yet his muscles were still slack, still too weak for him to fight “—to anyone, I’m useless. You shouldn’t have done this to me.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Ingrid insisted. “You’re going to be fine. You’ll be stronger than you’ve ever been. You’ll be immortal.”
“I’ve worked on humans who’ve been turned,” he reminded her. “I lost most of them. The blood loss destroyed their organs. It’s too dangerous.”
The vampiress shook her head, too stubborn and irrational to listen to what he was saying—to concede that he could be right and she wrong. “No, it’s more dangerous for you to be human.”
“Being one of you won’t protect me from a stake through the heart,” he reminded her. “I’m the only one who can protect you—who can save you from that.”
“And that’s why you need to be one of us—you need to be immortal,” she explained, as if he were the one who had no grasp on reality, “or there will come a time when you’re too old, too feeble to help us.”
He raised his hand and tried to curl his fingers into a fist. “I’m feeble now. I couldn’t hold a scalpel. I couldn’t save anyone now.”
Not even himself.
“You’ll be fine,” she assured him again. “Yo
u just need to replenish the blood you’ve lost.”
“I’ve lost more than blood.”
“Your wife.”
“Ex.” He would have to think of Paige that way now.
“You won’t have a future with her,” she said, “because eventually, as she ages and you don’t, she’ll figure out the secret.”
Now the secret was his to keep, too. But Paige had already figured it out. And if he had anything to do with her anymore, she would also figure out that he was now part of that secret—part of the society.
“As long as you make sure nothing happens to her, I’ll stay away from her,” he promised.
Ingrid arched her dark brows with surprise. “I thought that you were still in love with her.”
It was because he loved her so much that he would stay away. “Her being safe is more important than my being with her,” he said, his heart as heavy as his still partially paralyzed limbs.
“You really do love her,” Ingrid said with a wistful sigh.
“I love her enough to let her go.” Finally.
Chapter 17
“I knew you’d show up here eventually,” Paige said. And she had known that now it would have to be after dark.
Ben’s long, lean body tensed, and he straightened away from the bed where the little girl slept. “What are you doing here?” he asked, without turning toward her. “Visiting hours ended a while ago.”
She uncurled herself from the chair where she had dozed off. “I was waiting for you.” And she’d been playing cards with Addi until the child had fallen asleep.
He drew in an audibly shaky breath and shook his head. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I had to make sure you were all right,” she explained, her heart constricting with the fear she’d had for him. “Sebastian told me what happened to you.”
“How is he?”
Of course he’d worry about his patient first, himself last. That was why she’d been so certain he would show up to check on Addi.
“He’s still a little weak.” Remembering what Sebastian had been through, she couldn’t believe he was even alive. “But he’s recovering with unbelievable speed.”
“Good, that’s good.”
She reached out to touch Ben, but he pulled back and she withdrew her hand. “Are you?”
“I’m…” He closed his eyes and flinched.
But she doubted his pain was physical now…despite the bandage on his neck. “I know.”
He shook his head. “You can’t know.”
“Mama,” the little girl murmured in her sleep as she shifted against her pillow.
Paige flinched now, with the reminder that no child of hers would ever call her mother. And she couldn’t have a surrogate bring a baby into the world that she now knew existed. “I know,” she repeated, once Addi, with a wistful little sigh, had settled back to sleep, “and I should have known a long time ago.”
Ben shook his head in denial.
Anger raised her voice. “You should have told me.”
He caught her arm, his grip strong. As he ushered her out of the room and down the hall to the elevator, his strength reassured her even as his silence unsettled her and had her trembling slightly. He didn’t speak until the elevator stopped on the office level.
“Are you afraid of me now?” he asked. “Now that you know what I’ve become?”
“I’ve never been afraid of you,” she said.
She had only been afraid of what she’d felt for him. Too much. She’d never wanted to be dependent on a man, the way her mother had been.
He released his hold on her to unlock the door that opened directly into his private office. “You didn’t have a reason to fear me before.” He shut the door behind her and locked it. “You do now.” His eyes glowed eerily in the dark. “I’m one of them. I’m a monster now.”
Ben had never been more attractive to her. The silver strands glittered in his dark hair, like the desire in his dark eyes. Always lean and muscular, he seemed taller now—stronger now.
“No,” she said. “You’re not a monster.”
“Sebastian told you—I’ve been turned.”
“It wasn’t your choice. One of them attacked you.” Probably so they wouldn’t lose him as she had.
“But I’m consigned now to this life of darkness.” The light left his eyes now as he squeezed them shut and passed a hand over them. “I can’t and I won’t ask you to share this life with me.”
“You never let me share your life,” Paige reminded him.
“It was just…after I learned the secret,” he insisted. “I couldn’t risk your figuring it out, too. They wouldn’t let you live if you learned about them…about me.”
She shook her head. “It was even before then. From the day we met, you always held a part of yourself back from me.”
“I did. I know I did.” His breath shuddered out in a sigh. “I think I did it to protect myself—because every time in my past that I got attached to someone, I had to leave.”
“You didn’t have to leave me,” she said, her heart aching as she remembered all those times he’d walked away from her. “You chose to leave me.”
His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug, muscles rippling beneath the thin cashmere of his charcoal-gray sweater. “Leaving was all I knew.”
“Me, too,” she reminded him. “All I knew was getting left.”
“Sebastian had to leave you,” he said, defending her father. “If he’d stuck around, people would have noticed that he never aged. He left you to protect you. He loves you.”
“That’s not why you left me,” she said. He hadn’t been one of them then, but he still hadn’t wanted her close. “Did you ever really love me?”
“Paige, I loved you.”
“Loved me?” she asked, a pang striking her heart. “You don’t anymore?”
He drew in a breath, as if to brace himself, and said, “I can’t.”
“So your mind is made up. You don’t want me in this life of yours, either,” she realized. “So why did you bother bringing me to your office? There was obviously no point in our talking.” Maybe that was why she, a lawyer, had never tried arguing with him when they’d been married. Back then, Ben had been too strong, too resolute, for her to break down that wall he’d built around himself. Now he was even stronger.
“I didn’t bring you here to talk,” Ben admitted. “I brought you here for…” He moved away from the door, closing the distance between them with one long stride.
Her pulse tripped, and she trembled slightly. “What? For what did you bring me here?”
“One.” He reached out. “Last.” His fingers deftly unbuttoned the small buttons of her blouse and pulled it from her shoulders. “Time.”
She should have summoned the pride that had held her back from admitting she’d been fired from the law firm. But her pride was damned; all she felt was desire.
Her heart raced as he pulled her closer, his hands on her hips, dragging her tight against his hard body. She rose up on tiptoe and nipped at his chin.
“One last time?” She needed this; she needed him. “You think you can manage that? That I can?” She smiled and reminded him, “We’ve never been able to stay away from each other.”
“It has to be the last time. I can’t stay in your life,” he insisted, but his eyes were intense and dark with passion, his body taut and hot against hers.
“I don’t want to fight,” she said, pressing her mouth to his. But she would fight for him; she wouldn’t let him lock himself away in the Underground—no matter that he was now one of them.
And if she’d doubted what Sebastian had told her, she had proof now as she slid her tongue between his lips and over the sharp point of a fang.
He pulled back. “Sorry…”
But she grasped the nape of his neck and tugged his head down to hers again. And she kissed him with all the passion she always had. She wasn’t afraid of the fangs. She knew he would never hurt her. Physically.
Emotionally. She’d deal with that later….
His hands slid from her hips to cup her buttocks. He fisted her skirt in his hands, lifting it as he lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck.
He reached between them to unbutton and unzip his pants. Then he pushed her panties aside, first with his fingers, then the wet tip of his cock. “Paige…”
She slid down, over the length of him, taking him deep inside her. “Ben…”
He groaned, then dragged her tank top, which she’d worn with the sheer blouse, up and off. Since the camisole had a built-in bra, she’d worn nothing beneath it. He groaned again, then leaned over and pulled one of her nipples into his mouth, laving the sensitive point with his tongue. Then the tip of a fang scraped over her skin.
“Oh…” She moaned at the wicked sensation.
She arched her back and moved her hips, shifting so that he drove deeper. Each thrust brought her closer…the passion built inside her. His mouth on her breast pulled, sending heat streaking through her. He reached between them, pushing his thumb against her clit until she came, her orgasm crashing over him.
She buried her face in his neck, gasping for breath. But he didn’t stop. He stumbled a couple of steps until her bare back came up against the wall. Then he drove harder, deeper, each thrust lifting her up.
She splayed her arms, bracing herself against the wainscoting of his office wall. Her back arched. His mouth moved along her neck, his fangs scraping the skin as he sucked her flesh. But he didn’t bite—although she sensed the urge in him. Instead he slid his mouth over her collarbone and back to her breasts. Again he drew a sensitive peak into his mouth. A fang scraped the nipple, heightening the pressure until it broke free. And tears of pleasure streaked from her eyes.
“Ben!”
“Come again, Paige,” he ordered her, his mouth against her breast.
She tugged on his hair, to pull him closer, not away. As he nipped at her—the fangs just scraping but not breaking through the skin, she came again, shattering in his arms.
He thrust once, twice then shouted her name, “Paige!”
She unwrapped her legs and slid down his body, trembling with the aftermath of their passion. Naked and more vulnerable than she’d ever been, she reached for her clothes.