Claim the Night

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Claim the Night Page 14

by Rachel Lee


  He shook his head. “No, it’s gone.”

  One less thing to worry about. At least for now.

  “Okay then,” Jude said. “We meet tomorrow night at sunset, here.”

  Creed didn’t move for a moment, but finally he stood. “I’ve got a little time. I’m going back to the hospital to look in on my granddaughter. Until tonight.”

  Then he glided across the room, almost too fast to see. At the door, he paused, looking back at Jude. “Do you see links?”

  Jude nodded reluctantly. “Yes, Creed. And I don’t like them.”

  “Neither do I.” The only sign that he was gone was the closing door.

  Jude noticed that Terri sat frozen. Garner, however, looked as if he was ready to leap in with questions. Jude was in no mood for them.

  “Garner.”

  The young man’s mouth snapped closed. Then he said, “Yeah?”

  “Go home and get a couple of hours of sleep before you start hunting. And whatever you do, if you smell this thing don’t get anywhere near it. Understand?”

  Garner nodded. “I get it. And right now, I have no desire to get within range of it.”

  “But you’ll look?”

  “I’ll look.” Then he, too, rose and left.

  Without looking at Terri, Jude picked up the phone and dialed. Chloe’s sleepy voice answered him. “Hey, boss.”

  He guessed she had caller ID at home, too. “I need you in the office today. All day. I’ll leave notes to get you started on some research.”

  At once she sounded more alert. “What’s going on?”

  “Something very, very bad. I’ll do some research for as long as I can, but then I need you to take over.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  When he hung up, he finally looked at Terri. She was staring at him. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Except that there seem to be too many coincidences. Way too many.”

  His thoughts had been running along the same lines, but he refused to give voice to them. “Perhaps.”

  Maybe he was still a touch superstitious after all, as if speaking his thoughts aloud could make them happen. But right now, he had more important things to do than speculate.

  “I’m going to research online,” he said. “Why don’t you try to nap on the couch? Or on the cot in the next room? You look beat.”

  After a few moments, she rose and went to lie on the couch.

  But he noticed her eyes never closed.

  Chapter 9

  Terri couldn’t close her eyes. Demons capable of long-range planning. What did that mean? How long a range? Years? Decades?

  That feeling of being watched. Gone now. But there long enough to drive her back to Jude. Creed was connected to Jude, too, and his granddaughter had been attacked.

  The coincidences left her cold as ice inside.

  She listened to Jude typing away on the computer, with long pauses as he apparently read something, then the scribbling of a pen on paper as he made a note.

  What she wanted, really wanted right now, was to feel his arms around her again. Just as they had been in the car. Because they had made her feel safe, as if somehow Jude could be a bulwark against inchoate fears. Fears she didn’t want to name. Fears that had haunted her childhood and now haunted her again.

  What would a demon want with her? Access. But access to what?

  And she must be out of her freaking mind. Only a couple of weeks ago she hadn’t believed vampires existed. Now she had fed one and was looking to him for protection from demons?

  She wouldn’t even write that in a diary, if she had one, let alone say it out loud to anyone. Her world had turned so topsy-turvy, she didn’t know which end was up anymore.

  She had no idea how long she lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore uneasy, roiled thoughts.

  How could vampires be real? She couldn’t deny what she’d seen, what she knew, but she couldn’t find a way to explain their existence. It flew in the face of everything scientific in her nature and training. How could he move so fast? How could he make people do things with a certain tone in his voice, or a certain look? How could he survive on blood alone? How could he be damn near immortal? All her training rebelled against what experience was teaching her. She wanted pigeonholes again, she supposed. Maybe when they got past this demon thing she could persuade him to talk to her, explain things at least as far as he understood them. That would probably help her a lot.

  Right now, while her need for tidiness was useful in her job with the M.E., it helped her not at all with Jude.

  All of a sudden, without a whisper of warning, Jude squatted beside her. She managed not to gasp her surprise, but she wondered if she’d ever get used to the way he could move so fast he almost seemed to materialize out of thin air.

  “Time’s getting short,” he said quietly. “I left a list of things for Chloe to do when she comes in. Do you want me to take you home?”

  Any drowsiness that might have been trying to sneak in vanished in an instant. “No!”

  She thought he’d leave her there on the couch, but he surprised her. As if she weighed nothing at all, he slipped an arm beneath her shoulders, the other beneath her knees, and lifted her. The next thing she knew, they were on their way to his bedroom. So fast. He moved so fast the world passed in a blur.

  Locks thunked behind them, then he gently set her on her feet in his bedroom. “Let me know now,” he said. “You don’t have to stay in here with me.”

  “Maybe I’ll actually be able to sleep.”

  He withdrew his steadying arm and turned. She watched as he pulled open a drawer and took out a cleaner’s shirt box.

  “This’ll cover you decently,” he said as he handed it to her. “At least you’ll be able to sleep comfortably.”

  She took the box and went into his bathroom. There, feeling sticky from a long day, she decided to use his shower and found the water cold. And it never warmed up. Sighing, she gave up and stepped under the cold pounding spray. When she’d finished washing, she stepped out and found a towel in a cupboard.

  He was right about the shirt he gave her. Black silk like all his others, but with tails long enough to reach to her knees. She rolled up the cuffs to keep them out of the way, scooped up her clothes and stepped back into the bedroom. Jude lay on his bed, still fully clothed, having doffed only his boots and socks. Reaching over, he pulled the covers back so she could slide beneath them.

  She did so hesitantly, aware that her heart accelerated. She saw his faint smile and knew that he heard it.

  “This,” he said, “might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” He pulled the covers up to her chin, then propped himself on an elbow, looking down at her.

  “Stupid?” she repeated. If anyone here was being stupid, she figured it was herself. Here she was, preparing to sleep in the bed of a vampire who had admitted his basic instinct to prey on humans. One who had said he wanted her like hell on fire.

  One she wanted equally as much.

  “Soon,” he said, “the sleep of death will take me. I can fight it off, but only for a while. So it won’t be long before you’ll be as safe as if I weren’t in the room with you.”

  “Aren’t I safe right now?”

  “How safe do you want to be?”

  Good question, she thought, as she stared back into his mesmerizing gaze. Her heart skipped and settled into a deep rhythm, the kind of rhythm her whole body wanted to feel. His golden gaze darkened.

  “Jude,” she whispered, then amazed herself by reaching up to cup his cool cheek. His skin felt so smooth, like satin, not like a mortal’s skin. But nice. And she didn’t mind the coolness at all because it wasn’t icy. Later, while h
e slept, then he would feel like ice.

  But now he was just cool, and smooth, and since she’d already had one brief experience of the world of desire he could transport her into, she felt a longing stronger than any she had ever known in her life.

  His voice grew husky. “You don’t know how dangerous this is.”

  “Then tell me.”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he gave in to her longing, perhaps in to his own, and kissed her. His cool tongue toyed with hers, teasing then encouraging the rhythm, echoing the beat of her heart until her entire body seemed to throb in time to the tempo.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he whispered against her lips. “How desirable? Your scent alone was driving me mad before I ever set eyes on you.”

  His words caused another wave of longing to speed through her. Her eyes closed, and she clung to his strong shoulders, the only anchor left in her universe.

  “Come to me, sweet one,” he whispered. “Give yourself freely.”

  “I do,” she managed to whisper back, not knowing what she was saying, just meaning whatever it was with every cell in her being.

  She felt another coolness and vaguely realized the covers had been pulled down. Then a hand slipped up under the shirt she wore and cupped her yearning breast.

  A soft cry escaped her at the contact and she arched, trying to press herself more firmly into his grasp. He kneaded her flesh with exquisite knowledge, knowing just how much and when. Each squeeze, each brush of his thumb over her nipple, resounded throughout her entire body.

  Then, finally, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. A ragged groan burst from her depths and her entire body bent toward him, wanting more.

  Never had she felt so completely alive. She grasped the back of his head, holding him close, wanting him completely, more completely than she had ever wanted anyone.

  His breath whispered against her heated skin, a delicious contrast. His lips and tongue toyed with her nipple as if he could feel exactly what she felt. Wordlessly she whimpered, greedy for even more. Greedy for complete possession.

  “Easy, sweet one,” he murmured before he brought his mouth to her other breast. Then delicious shock ripped through her as his hand slipped between her legs. At once she wanted to open herself to his touch, but at the same time she needed more and clamped her legs around his hand so that he could not pull it away.

  He didn’t even try. Knowing fingers stroked her, gently parting her petals, finding that exquisite knot of nerves.

  She gasped as if there was no air left in the room. She arched into that touch helplessly, in thrall to need. Like a virtuoso, he played her, lifting her higher and higher, from the realm of the ordinary to a place so extraordinary she had never in her wildest imaginings conceived of it.

  She ached. She throbbed. She pulsed. She wanted it to end, yet never end. Her hips rocked against his hand, rising and falling in a rhythm as old as time.

  Yet he seemed to know just how to keep her at the pinnacle, drawing a deeper and deeper response from her until she nearly screamed her need.

  Only then did he give her the touch that pushed her over into a shattering climax that left her blind and utterly without breath. Clenching ripples continued to run through her, as slowly, slowly, she drifted back to the mundane world.

  When finally she could open her eyes a crack, she found Jude smiling at her.

  “That was beautiful,” he murmured.

  “But…isn’t there a missing part?” Her voice sounded thick, hoarse.

  “You mean me?” He shook his head. “I got all I wanted from your experience. And I’m sorry, Terri, but it’s time. Sleep now. We can talk later.”

  He lay back, his head falling on the pillow, and as she watched from heavy-lidded eyes, she saw him draw one deep breath and stiffen.

  And then he was dead.

  She reached out to touch him, wishing he could feel it. Wishing she could have given him even a portion of what he had just given her.

  And then a funny thought struck her: La petite mort. Jude gave new meaning to the words.

  Smiling, her entire body sated beyond words, she curled up under the covers, as close as she could get, watching him until at last sleep claimed her as well.

  Life returned with a gasping breath, as it always did. In that instant, the pain he experienced was almost enough to make him scream. For him there was no wakening. Just life. Death to life in an instant, and it hurt. He had no sense that time had passed, no sense of waking. In one, single, microscopic instant, he returned, picking up his life exactly where he had left it the moment he had died again.

  Only experience had taught him how to deal with the shock, how to accept that time had passed when he no longer had the mortal experience of sleep to tell him. No cell in his body remembered the hours when he had been dead. No dream teased at the edge of consciousness to remind him he had been here. His body even felt as if just this instant he had laid back on the bed.

  And there was Terri, her blue eyes watching him, a faint frown between her brows. The idea that he might have left her frowning that morning, rather than feeling well-loved, caused him instant concern.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It hurts to come back, doesn’t it?” she said quietly. “I saw it on your face when you took your first breath.”

  “Resurrection is always a shock. There’s no warning. It’s instantaneous, and every time it’s shocking.”

  “Really? Do you dream?”

  “No. Never.”

  Perplexity drew one corner of her mouth tight. “Do you miss it?”

  “No. Not anymore.”

  She reached out and laid her hand on his chest. Feeling his heartbeat? His breaths? At least she wasn’t shying from him, which meant he couldn’t have screwed things up too royally that morning.

  “Why—” She broke off sharply and suddenly looked embarrassed.

  He rolled onto his side and drew her into his arms. “Ask me anything, sweet one. I’ll answer if I can. Don’t be shy.”

  “I was just wondering why…your saliva didn’t numb me this morning when you kissed me.”

  “Ah.” He drew her closer, for once allowing himself to actually enjoy her luscious scent, dangerous or not. After all, it filled the room now and he couldn’t escape it. But equally enticing was that he could still smell her orgasm, that heady odor that only came from lovemaking in humans. “That only happens when I expose my fangs. Otherwise, my saliva is fairly ordinary.”

  She tucked her head beneath his chin. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “Well, it would sure muck up lovemaking if it were otherwise.”

  A muffled giggle escaped her, and at last he felt her relax. “Have you been lying here worrying about things?”

  “Not really. I just have so many questions and I was feeling a little bad that I didn’t give you what you gave me.”

  “But you did.” Another moment to treasure, being able to stroke her hair and feel her face in his shoulder. Stolen moments that he’d pay for sooner or later, but he refused to worry about that now.

  “How could I have?” she asked.

  “Because I drank from you.”

  At that her head snapped up and she looked at him, astonishment framed on her face. “What do you mean?”

  “I have an intense connection with you now. I can feel much of what you feel. I can’t hear your thoughts, but you have no idea how much I can tell from your heartbeat, your scents, your sighs. And now that I’ve tasted you, I’m not only aware of those things, I feel them too when you’re close.”

  She frowned. “But what about all the canned blood you drink? Does it connect you with everyone?”

  “Not to this degree. Remember, it’s bee
n processed and tainted. It’s some distance removed from the donor.”

  “But everyone you drink from fresh?”

  “To some extent.” But how to explain? “Terri, there are degrees of connection. If it’s been a long time, then the connection fades. And I learned the hard way to choose my donors carefully. These days I usually try to find people who are not only willing to give to me, but who actually offer little in the way of a connection that would trouble me.”

  “But I’m different?”

  “Very different. And that’s the problem.”

  Unable to deal with continued inquisition in this particular area, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. But even before he stood, she asked another question.

  “Are you hurt because of me now?”

  He closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. After a moment, he said, “I told you this was dangerous. Only time will answer your question.”

  Then he stood and headed for the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Amazing, he thought somewhere between frustration and amusement, but the bathroom had become his only sanctuary.

  And he had no one to blame for that but himself.

  Chloe eyed them with one lifted brow as they emerged into the outer office together. “Well, well.”

  “Don’t, Chloe,” Jude said. “I could get snappish.”

  “Nothing new in that, Boss.”

  “Do you want to embarrass Terri?”

  Terri felt her cheeks stain red. She was already a bit embarrassed.

  “Oh, certainly not!” Chloe answered. “Never that. But she looks like something the cat dragged home. Clothes? A hot shower? Men!”

  Terri felt Jude look at her. “It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I managed a cold shower. As for clothes…”

  “Somebody,” Chloe said, “ought to take you home to change. Somebody ought to think about installing a water heater.”

  “Somebody,” Jude answered, “has indeed been remiss.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes at him. “Do you want the news or not?”

 

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