Into the Darkness

by Delilah Devlin

  Rene dumped Natalie’s suitcase on the bed in the hotel, refusing to meet her eyes. His body was tense and horny. He could have slammed a fist or his cock through a cement block.

  Anger rushed through him like floodgates had been blasted all to hell. Only it was his home that had been trashed.

  While Chessa had shouted to Natalie to grab clothing and start shoving it into pillowcases, he’d stormed through his home assessing every scar in his walls and furniture, every shredded curtain and pillow.

  Chessa hadn’t rearmed the security system when she’d snatched him from his home. He wondered if that oversight had been an accident, or if she was trying to prove a point.

  He got it.

  His house was no longer his sanctuary, and he was being hunted, too.

  He’d never relied much on his intuition, but this time the stillness in his courtyard had been eerie, almost like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching, waiting. Even before the garage light failed to come on, he’d been reaching for the pistol he wasn’t wearing, ready to storm inside.

  Chessa had grabbed his arm and pressed a finger over her lips. She strode into his house, her steps crunching on broken glass in the distance. When she’d called him to come inside, he’d thought he was prepared for the worst—but his imaginings hadn’t come close.

  The fury behind the destruction had shaken him. Once his rage was tamped down, he’d started to walk through and assess it like a cop. It became clear the intruder had begun clearheaded, methodical. When he reached the bedroom, that’s when all hell had broken loose.

  By the way the bedding was wadded, Rene could imagine the monster pulling up the sheets to smell the scent of sex and a virgin’s blood. That was the moment he’d come unglued.

  Even now, well away from the house he’d called home when Elaine was still alive, he couldn’t shake the anger or the bone-deep fear. If Natalie had been there when the monster had come…

  Rene knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

  “Are you staying here at the hotel?” Chessa asked, her voice raised, and he realized she must have repeated the question.

  He shook his head. He wasn’t feeling very civilized at the moment. He needed to get far away from Natalie.

  “You want to grab some of your things and head to the office? Maybe you could rack out on a cot there.”

  He grabbed a duffel and headed for the door. When he reached for the knob, he said over his shoulder, “Stay the hell away from those French doors. Pull the curtains shut. Stay put until you hear from one of us.”

  Behind him, he heard Chessa clear her throat. “I’ll drop Rene then go see Simon. I’ll find out what he’s willing to do to help.”

  At the last moment, he looked back at Natalie. Her blue eyes looked huge in the pale oval of her face. “I’ll check in with you later. Keep your head down.”

  As Natalie watched him leave, she felt like her feet were planted in shifting sand. She moved sluggishly around the room, putting her things into the tiny drawers of the built-in dresser. When she finished, she sat in an armchair and listened to the silence, half expecting to hear a scraping to announce another chapter of her life—or the final epilogue.

  The sight of the destruction inside Rene’s home had left her shaken and ill. Her parents’ deaths had been more vicious, but she’d had the benefit of time and distance to dull the horror. Now, it was back in her face.

  Rene’s reaction had added to the chill. He’d withdrawn, his face growing tighter as he’d strode from room to room, the muscles of his shoulders tensing, his hands closing into fists.

  And she was the cause. The killer had come for her and taken out his frustration on Rene’s home—the message clear. Rene was next.

  All because he’d fucked her. Possibly impregnated her.

  She stared at the small paper bag she’d clutched in her lap ever since she’d left the convenience store. There was only one way to find out for sure. Dragging herself to her feet, she grabbed the paper bag and went into the bathroom.

  The instructions were simple, the picture unambiguous, but after she’d peed on the little white wand, she stared at it uncomprehending for the longest time.

  She was pregnant.

  Only two days had passed, but she held the proof in her hand.

  Her stomach rumbled—a gentle roiling that only hinted at the urgency to come. She thought about ordering from room service, but feared she’d want a bite of the wait staff rather than a raw steak so decided to lie down and sleep until dark.

  Chessa had promised she’d be back that evening to take her out. She still didn’t trust Natalie to curb her appetites.

  Natalie didn’t blame her one bit.

  She lay on top of the comforter and let the overhead fan wash over her, lulling her toward sleep, trying to shut the sounds of the storm shrieking past her window. She was tempted to peek outside, but knew the streets would be practically empty. Only fools and the few who didn’t fear the fury of the wind would venture outside today.

  A soft knock on the door brought her awake in an instant. She padded on bare feet to the door and opened it, cursing the fact she hadn’t thought to look into the peephole first. Only it was just Rene.

  Water ran in rivulets down his face. His white T-shirt was soaked to transparency. The look on his face arrested her—haunted, stark—and savage. She stood to the side as he entered and closed the door behind him. Before she could open her mouth to ask him why he was there, he pulled her into his arms and backed her against the wall.

  Natalie’s mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue thrust inside. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body close.

  A hand lifted her thigh and dragged it over his hip and he shoved himself between her legs. His thick, hard cock rutted against her pussy, pushing her up the wall.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the taste of him and the heat that built everywhere their bodies met—but especially between her legs.

  As their tongues dueled, her heart beat heavy and hard against her chest, and the tingling started in the roof of her mouth.

  She tore her mouth away and lifted her lips to show him her fangs. “You know what you have to do.”

  Rene rested his forehead against hers while his chest rose and fell with each harsh breath. He ground his cock into her one last time then stood back.

  She opened her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She was already shaking, whether from blood or sexual lust she wasn’t sure. Probably both.

  He picked up the robe and ripped an arm off the silken garment, then held out the sleeve. Natalie took it and turned away, putting it between her teeth and holding up the ends for him to knot.

  When it pulled snug against her hair, she started to turn back to him, but Rene’s hands landed on her shoulders, and he pushed her toward the bed, forcing her to lie over the edge.

  Natalie grabbed handfuls of the coverlet and spread her legs wide, tilting up her hips to give him access to her sex. His hands glided from her shoulders, down her back and over the globes of her ass. There, he paused and squeezed them, then swept his thumbs into the crease.

  She shivered, letting him decide how and where he wanted to take her. His continued silence unnerved yet excited her. He’d been driven beyond his control to come here.

  His zipper rasped and fingers thrust roughly between her legs.

  But she didn’t care. Moisture melted from her inner walls, flooding her pussy. She clasped her muscles around his fingers as he swirled inside her. She rubbed her hardening nipples on the bed, moaning behind her gag.

  When his cock probed between her legs, she trembled, her breath hitching.

  Rene dipped in, finding her channel, then slammed inside, the force pushing her up the mattress stroke by stroke until he followed her onto the bed one knee at a time.

  His strong arm reached beneath her belly and lifted her to her knees, but he never stopped the pounding that butted against her wo
mb with every thrust.

  Natalie keened and pressed her hot face into the cool coverlet, closing tight her eyes as her desire curled inside her like a spring. Sweat and her own juices smeared her thighs, and his belly slapped noisily against her flesh.

  Rene’s hands landed on the mattress beside hers and his strokes shortened, powering hard and quick as a jackhammer, until finally, he groaned and jerked against her. Hot fluid spurted deep inside her, bathing her core.

  When his hips finally slowed, he dragged air into his lungs in harsh gasps. Her gag loosened. “Keep that on ’til I’m gone,” he said, his voice harsh and sounding rusty.

  She lay on the mattress, her legs splayed, and her body still shuddering as he rose and dressed out of her sight.

  Not until the door clicked closed did she roll over and spit out the gag.

  It had to mean something—his coming back for her. He hadn’t turned to Chessa or some other woman to ease his lust.

  As she fell asleep, the image of Rene’s face, tight with pent-up anger, stayed with her. She would have liked tasting the edge of his violence.

  Chessa lifted the brass knocker on Simon Jameson’s door and waited. A steady drip plopped on the floor, and she remembered her slicker and unzipped it.

  The door swung open and a woman with waist-length golden brown hair and dark eyes stood in the opening. She wore a cream brocade wrapper, something so elaborate it looked like it ought to be a museum piece. Her pink mouth appeared blurred from kisses.

  Chessa stared for a long moment. “Hello, Kestrel.”

  The woman made a dainty moue. “I hate that name. I’m Madeleine,” she said, her voice musical, yet precise, “and you’re one of Inanna’s get.”

  “I need to speak to Simon.”

  “He’s in the shower. Come in and I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  Chessa shouldered past the door and the petite woman, feeling like a bull in a china shop. Everything about Simon’s “pet” screamed femininity. It figured. If you were going to have an enchanted familiar, why not one you’d enjoy fucking, too?

  As she removed her rain slicker and hung it on a coat rack, she looked around his apartment, taking in the smell of dusty books and incense, finding objects she knew anyone else would mistake for gothic kitsch, but she knew were a mage’s toys.

  She was peering into a copper-framed mirror that oddly reflected only the contents of the room, when Simon strode inside, wearing a T-shirt and loose trousers. The outfit was totally at odds with his true Templar face and brawny physique.

  “Your mirror doesn’t work,” she said, lifting a brow.

  “Only demons find it useless for combing their hair,” he said, his reflection smirking in the glass.

  Chessa rolled her eyes. “I met your bird.”

  “Lovely, isn’t she?”

  “Tell me,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Is she your willing captive or your slave?”

  His smile thinned. “She’s not up for discussion. You’ve come about Natalie.”

  “I have.” Chessa plopped down on an overstuffed sofa and put her feet on the coffee table. She wasn’t sure why, but annoying Simon was tops on her list of fun things to do today. “She’s decided not to accept Inanna’s invitation.”

  Simon seated himself opposite her on another well-padded sofa. “Did Inanna see her to the door?”

  Chessa examined her fingernails and found a hangnail. She stuffed her finger in her mouth and bit it off. “Not exactly,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

  Simon laughed. “My Natalie has good instincts. But you still haven’t said what you want from me.”

  “Are you in a rush to get rid of me?”

  His sigh was long and exasperated. “Is this something that can wait until another day?”

  “She needs sanctuary,” she blurted.

  Simon’s expression shuttered, but not before she’d heard his breath draw deep. “Is she asking for it?”

  “She doesn’t even know it exists.”

  “Then you have to find another way to keep her safe. Send her back to Inanna’s and make sure they don’t let her out again.”

  “Simon, you and I both know she won’t be happy there.”

  “Since when do you care about Natalie’s happiness? I suppose you’ve become great friends.”

  “Simon, I can’t keep her safe long. She’s ravenous. She’ll draw attention the first time she steps out to find a meal.”

  “Is she really pregnant?”

  Chessa laid her head back on the cushion and looked at the molded ceiling. Nice place he had here. “Inanna seemed to think so,” she murmured.

  “What about her policeman?”

  “His name is Rene.”

  “Will he go with her into sanctuary?”

  “He’s not willing to become her life mate.”

  “Must be one stubborn human to resist her. Or maybe he’s found someone to deflect all that lust building in him,” he said, his tone insinuating.

  Chessa flushed. “I’ll need you to explain it to her—and she might be resistant to the idea.”

  “I can’t imagine why. Who wouldn’t be willing to leave behind the world they know? Take a one-way trip into another time and place?”

  Chessa straightened, bunching her fists on her knees. “Simon, what part of this aren’t you understanding? She’s not safe here.”

  “Oh, I understand. But I also know you have your sights on her boyfriend. The daddy to her child. Do you really think this is the best thing for her? Or is it the best thing for you?”

  Chessa’s back stiffened ramrod straight. “I mean her no harm, and I’ve given up any claim to Rene. You know why I’m doing this. I only want her and her child safe.”

  “Take a long look in a mirror, Chessa—not mine of course. If you still want me to send her to sanctuary, I’ll talk to her about it. But you need to purge your demons first.”

  The metallic rattle drew their attention to a doorway. Madeleine carried a large tray with a teapot and cups. “I thought you might want something to fortify yourself before you face that storm again.” She placed the tray on the coffee table and perched on the edge of the sofa next to Simon. When her gaze met his, her smile said it all. She was his willing captive.

  Simon’s head swiveled toward Chessa. “Don’t come back until the new moon. Our girl still has more growing to do, and I’m going to be very, very busy.”

  Natalie awoke in the darkness to the sound of her stomach grumbling. She checked the time on the digital clock on the nightstand. Nightfall had come. Soon, Chessa would arrive to take her to dinner.

  She rolled from the bed and pulled clothing out of her drawers then headed to the bathroom. Once inside, she showered and applied makeup to her face. The task was pointless really. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and the storm outside would likely wash it all away as soon as she stepped outside. But she needed to do something to while away the time.

  Her hands shook with her hunger as she lined her eyes, and the result was a little ghoulish, but appropriate to her mind. She dressed in a silver sleeveless top and blue jeans that were very loose at the waist and baggy in the rear. She dug for a belt to hold them up and stepped into silver, jewel-studded slides. The clothes were silly, the shoes ridiculous. She was going to troll for blood and would likely stain everything she wore. She wondered if vampires ever wore bibs and thought the innovation might catch on.

  When she’d dried her hair, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited, counting the minutes.

  This time when the knock came, she checked the peephole first. Chessa stood in the hallway.

  Natalie opened the door and gave Chessa’s attire a quick glance. She’d overdressed. Chessa wore blue jeans and a scruffy leather jacket.

  Chessa intercepted her glance and held open her coat. Her holster fit snug against her waist. Then she slid a long dagger from an inner pocket. “I never travel without a little reinforcement.” Her eyebrows waggled up and down.

  Nata
lie grinned. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Now, that scares me. Get some lessons first.” Chessa glanced inside the room. “You ready?”

  “Since I no longer have a purse or any cash to put into it—yeah. It’s on you, right?”

  “You have what you need to make payment. Let’s go.”

  Rene sat at his desk, tired as hell. His eyes felt scratchy and his underwear stuck to his cock. He needed a bath and to brush his teeth, but he’d been in such a hurry to leave Natalie’s room the first time, he’d forgotten the necessities.

  Staring at the copy of the faxed report from the Memphis PD, his gaze blurred. He sat back and rubbed his eyes. Damn, he’d lost so much blood to Natalie, he knew it would be a while before his body restored the loss and his stamina was back—that or he’d have to go to Charity Hospital and ask for a transfusion. But how would he explain how he’d lost a few pints?

  There was this girl who happened to be born a vampire… It sounded nuts, and that’s what they’d think he was. If that was true, a great big pair of baby-blues was responsible for his lapse in sanity.

  Rene swiveled in his chair, trying to decide whether to get the cot from the lounge or sack out on the moth-ridden couch when his gaze fell on Chessa’s filing cabinet.

  The one sitting in the corner behind her desk that contained the cold case files she’d kept for forty years—since before he’d been born.

  He’d read most of them. The ones in the upper three drawers. The bottom drawer was the only one she kept locked. He’d often wondered why and supposed it might have something to do with her screwy family. But maybe, there was another reason.

  He’d never know unless he looked. No stone would be left unturned in his search for the killer threatening Natalie. He might not be the right man for her, but he wanted to know she’d be safe. It was the least he owed her.

  Rifling through the tools, pens, and flashlights he’d accumulated in his desk, he found a screwdriver. The lock was the built-in kind—easy to break for someone who’d jimmied his own cabinet every time he’d lost the key.