Darkest Hours

by S. K. Yule

  A shudder ran through him as her tight wetness clamped around his finger, and he let out a tortured groan. For a split second after he entered her, he thought he would disgrace himself and come. “My God, you’re so tight and ready for me, Ebony.” He sucked in a deep, steady breath and fought for control as he eased in and out of her, stretching her body, readying it for his invasion. Her body coiled tighter and tighter, inner muscles clenching and unclenching in anticipation.

  Then, she cried out as she tumbled over the edge. His body burned, screamed at him to take her. He rose above her and took possession of her lips once again. He nudged against her slick opening, and her muscles tensed. He kissed and caressed her, calming her doubts, coaxing her body back to full flame. He pushed a little deeper and wondered if he might actually be too big to fit inside her. He clenched his teeth, fighting the inner demand to bury himself inside her while working slowly into her tightness.

  “Ashe, you won’t fit. Please.”

  Her beautiful face was marred by a grimace, and her eyes were squeezed shut. He stopped pushing, his muscles quivering as he held perfectly still even though he knew he was nearly half way to his destination. “Ebony, look at me.”

  Her green eyes flashed open, and he was again taken in by the sheer beauty of her. He knew at that moment he was lost and would do anything for this woman. He brushed her silky hair off her face. “It will be okay. I promise.”

  He knew he was going to hurt her, but there was no way in hell he could stop now, and her small nod of acquiescence, her complete surrender to him, her complete trust in him, nearly undid him. He began kissing her once again, nipping her lower lip then mating his tongue with hers in an erotic dance. He knew she was as ready as she would ever be, and before she had time to think, he sat back on his knees, encircled each knee and pulled her to him, seating his cock fully inside her.

  Her body tightened around his in response to his invasion, and her tender flesh tore as he broke through her innocence. She cried out. A small tear escaped the corner of her eye leaving a wet trail down her cheek. His heart ached with the knowledge that he had caused her pain. Ashe could stand anything but her tears. He trembled, every muscle taut from the effort it was taking to remain still after he had plunged into her. He cupped each side of her face and licked away the tear that had spilled down her cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ebony.” His chest ached, and he refused to hurt her further. He started to pull out of her when her legs came up and circled his waist, locking him to her.

  She smiled at him as he gazed down at her in question. She tightened her legs around his waist and refused to let him leave her. She made a small, careful arch of her hips, seating his body deep inside hers once again. His eyes widened a mere second before he began moving with her. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her hands up and down his broad back, gently cupping his hard butt encouraging him on. He began moving faster, thrusting in and out of her silky tightness, burying himself deeper and deeper.

  He rode her hard and fast hoping like hell he wasn’t causing her too much discomfort. His skin felt tight. The pressure built in his cock. Her fingers dug in his back, and he rolled his hips, seating himself fully inside her heat before pulling almost all the way out then pushing back in. She dug her heels into his ass, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his back as he continued taking her. His breaths came in gasps against her neck. His teeth scraped her tender flesh promising even more pleasure.

  She panted. “Ashe, take me how you need to, please. I want you to.”

  His turquoise eyes snapped to her face. He slowed the rhythm of his possession, and Ebony closed her eyes for a moment then opened them to look at him again. “Do it, Ashe. I want to be yours in every way.” He began to protest, but she put her fingers to his lips. “I’m not scared. I know you won’t hurt me.”

  The beast in him roared to life and refused to give her time to have second thoughts. He could not deny himself the chance to make her his completely. He carefully sank his teeth deep in the soft skin at her throat, and her sweetness poured through him, coppery, tangy, Ebony. He pumped his body harder. Her muscles coiled tighter, gripping him. He knew from this moment on this woman would be a part of him.

  His body quivered from the all-consuming pure ecstasy of claiming his mate and tasting her life force. Her body clutched his once again, squeezing him, and she cried out his name as shudders wracked her body. His muscles clenched, his skin burned, and his cock hardened even more. He pushed into her, once, twice then threw his head back and growled as he spilled himself into her, warm and pulsing, deep in her womb. He had never come so hard in his life. It had taken every ounce of control to keep his release at bay until Ebony had climaxed. She smiled at him, and even though he had just possessed her his body hardened once again. He refused to take her again as he knew she’d be sore. He’d wait no matter how hard it would be. He watched as her eyes drifted shut.

  He eased his body from hers, already missing the contact, and reached down for his shirt to gently clean the blood staining her thighs. Once all the evidence of her innocence was gone, he grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over both of them after he pulled her into his arms and placed her head on his chest. She had already fallen into a light doze and felt like heaven snuggled against him, all silk and softness.

  His contentment quickly disappeared. The hair on the back of his neck rose, a foreboding of something he hadn’t sensed before. Ebony was sick. No, she was way more than sick. She was dying.

  He had gone to such great lengths to distance himself from her he hadn’t even picked up on her illness. Even though still reluctant to do so, he gently probed her mind. She didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. Estril knew. Hell, even his brothers knew. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned it to him? He was pretty sure he knew the answer. Estril had picked up on it the morning after the attack and since she had also figured out that Ebony was his viata amant and knew he would not readily accept the idea, she advised Aiston and Aldin to stay out of it. He was going to tan all their hides for this little stunt. How could his family keep something like this from him? How could Ebony?

  Anger slowly sparked, lit and burned through him as hot as a forest fire. He wanted to shake Ebony awake and demand answers. He couldn’t lose her. Didn’t she know he could save her? Thoughts of forcing her to tell him warred with the reasons why she hadn’t told him. He read in her mind, and he began to understand the motivation behind her silence. He couldn’t say he agreed with it totally, but he now acknowledged her reluctance in telling anyone. If it were him, he wouldn’t want to see pity in the eyes of his family every time he entered their presence or be subject to the sympathetic whispers that would undoubtedly be there as well.

  In the end, he concluded he wanted her to decide he was important enough to confide in on her own without force of any kind. If she trusted and cared for him enough to tell him, maybe he could have a relationship with her after all . . . and if she didn’t tell him? He wasn’t sure he could let her go at this point, but he would not be betrayed again either.

  He might be able to handle that she had not trusted him enough at this point to tell him. They could build trust between them later. However, the thought of her not caring . . . well he didn’t want to think about it. For some reason, he found her feelings for him, or lack of, had become very important. She had to tell him, and he would give her time to do so. Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? You sorry bastard, you’re going to get screwed again. How in the hell could fate deal him two women who would betray him?

  He got up and pulled his jeans on, picked up her clothes and gently lifted her with the blanket still wrapped around her. He carried her up to her room and placed her in bed. He gently kissed her on the forehead, made sure she was covered, and then left. Emotions pounded at him—anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness, desperation . . . love? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and decided a good fight with a shadow drifter would prove a great di
straction.

  Mind made up, he changed into all black and strapped his sword to his back before covering it with his trench coat. He headed downstairs, hoping he could find a worthy adversary tonight, took a deep breath and walked out into the pitch black. His body grew tense with anticipation of a possible battle, tuned into every movement, every sound. He became the night, blended into the darkness, and began the hunt.

  * * * *

  Ebony couldn’t even open her eyes when Ashe picked her up and carried her up the stairs to her room. She felt as if her bones were actually gone and replaced by jelly. When he placed her in her bed she immediately felt herself drifting into sleep, completely satiated. How could she have gone twenty-seven years without ever feeling this? The answer was simple, because she hadn’t met Ashe.

  She sighed and let images of their lovemaking slide through her tired brain. His body reminded her of a Greek God’s, lean and rippling with the smooth flow of muscle in all the right places. He was perfection. And now she finally knew where the dark trail of hair from his navel ended. He had been magnificent. Gentle, possessive, and her body had responded to every kiss, every touch. She welcomed his possession and submitted to his every demand. Oh my! I’m in love with him. She didn’t know how it was possible in such a short time, but she knew it was the simple truth.

  She wondered if he could ever love her back then chastised herself for being so selfish. She was dying. And, even though she knew it was wrong to wish for such a thing when she had nothing to offer in return, she still found herself dreaming of just that. She wanted Ashe to love her, to cherish her, to look at her like she was the only woman in the world. She couldn’t deny it and felt guilty for wanting it when in the end her illness would take her from him.

  She sighed in contentment once again and let sleep claim her.

  Chapter Eight

  Forty-five minutes later the scent of prey littered the air, and Ashe followed it silently through the dank, winding alleyways lined with brick walls. The stench of blood formed an invisible trail he had no trouble seeing. The scent trail was as effective as leaving a paved pathway. The shadow drifter would be even more crazed and dangerous after a fresh kill. Ashe vowed to make sure the drifter’s victim had not died in vain. Finally catching a glimpse of his target ahead, Ashe paused when the drifter stopped and sniffed the air and then abruptly turned in Ashe’s direction.

  Ashe was surprised when the shadow drifter turned toward him in blunt opposition. Drifters were cowards who preferred running from the hunters and would only fight when cornered. Ashe figured the odd behavior must be the result of an exceptionally brutal kill to fuel the beast enough for confrontation.

  Ashe pulled his sword from the scabbard. A menacing hiss echoed in the air. “So, you’re not going to run tonight.” The shadow drifter honed in on Ashe and sneered.Spittle ran down his chin, and he took a fighter’s stance. Ashe once again found the drifter’s behavior strange. “I hope you’re ready to die, because I’m dispatching you to hell.”

  The drifter let out a hideous scream and launched itself at Ashe, striking out with its long, sharp claws missing by a mere thread. The breeze from the missed blow tickled Ashe’s cheek as he spun and kicked the drifter behind the knee. The momentum of the kick tossed the drifter through the air a few feet before it landed with an audible crack on the ground. It screeched in fury and was back on its feet, charging before Ashe could blink.

  The creature would strike, barely miss, then Ashe would deliver a blow that either sent it crashing to the ground or bouncing off the brick wall. After several minutes, the shadow drifter’s movements became slow and sloppy and, Ashe knew the fight would soon be over. Ashe moved in for the kill, but before he could deal the death blow an agonizing pain pierced his chest. He dropped to one knee, and his sword clattered on the ground beside him. He looked down to find the end of a large wooden stake protruding from his body. Holy shit! When the hell had drifters started carrying weapons? He had disposed of hundreds of drifters throughout his existence, and not one had ever carried a weapon. Shadow drifters preferred fighting with their claws, which wasn’t a bad choice since they were eight inches long, razor sharp, and poisonous. The poison wouldn’t kill a vampire but was potent enough to make one sick and weak for a time.

  The drifter assumed it had won the fight and gave Ashe an ego spurred sneer. It would prove a deadly mistake. It strolled toward Ashe ready to deal out death, but before the drifter could finish the job, Ashe dropped to the ground in a roll, grabbed his sword on his way back on his feet and sliced its hideous head clean from its shoulders. The body and head turned into a thick black substance that soaked into the ground and left a horrible stench behind. Bright blue poured from the black remains as souls the drifter had stolen were freed and floated toward the heavens.

  Ashe groaned as he slid the sword back in its scabbard. He gripped the stake, gave a hard pull and yanked it out. Blood ran out of the wound steadily with each beat of his now slowing heart, soaking his shirt and pants. He was in danger of bleeding out. He became dizzy and weak, and he knew he would not be able to find a source on his own fast enough to replenish his life force. He used his last ounce of strength, shimmered back to his house and ended up flat on his back in the hallway leading to his room. “Aldin, Aiston, I need you now. I’m in the hallway.” Maybe hunting hadn’t been such a good idea as a way to get Ebony off his mind. Instead, she had proved a distraction that almost got him killed, or maybe had gotten him killed. He wasn’t sure yet exactly how this would end. A mere second later Aldin, Aiston and Estril were standing in the hall gaping at their nearly unconscious brother.

  * * * *

  The drudge watched The Master sit back in the soft chair of red silk, envelope in hand. A wicked smirk crossed full lips. She knew The Master held an invitation to the Aleksandrov annual Midnight Ball. The drudge kept the smile from her face as she thought of The Master’s new plan. The little blonde human didn’t even know it, but was going to help The Master finally obtain the object of her obsession. Ashe Aleksandrov. Little did The Master know things were going to turn out very differently than planned.

  The long, unfelt emotion of excitement flared into anticipation. Much must be done before Saturday night. Careful plans must be made without mistakes. This time the much sought outcome that had been longed for years would not be denied. This time all desires would be obtained no matter the cost. The Master would soon find out that not everything one wanted was attainable.

  The drudge was jerked from her thoughts when The Master screeched. “Drudge! It is time to make amends for your failed service to me!”

  The drudge carefully kept all emotion in check as she listened to the plan once again. She wanted to scream that it didn’t matter but knew she had to stay alive long enough to kill Ashe. Excitement stirred her blood once again, and she tamped it down refusing to ruin this final chance for revenge. The Master would kill her for her betrayal, but she didn’t care. Her death would be worth the look on her Master’s face when the realization set in that the object of obsession for years was gone for good, taken out by the lowly servant nonetheless. No, Ashe would be no toy for The Master. He would die. He ruined her life, and she would take his in exchange.

  * * * *

  Ebony stirred from a sound sleep. She couldn’t figure out what had awakened her until she heard muffled voices outside her room in the hallway. She had never heard anyone this late at night, not that she was naïve enough to think that vampires weren’t up and about at this time. She knew the silence had been out of courtesy and respect for her. The noises increased and sounded as if someone were putting up a struggle of some sort. Curious as to what was going on, she put her slippers on, tiptoed across to the door and opened it a crack to allow her a non-conspicuous view of the hallway. She caught a quick glance of Ashe practically being carried into his room by his two brothers, followed anxiously by Estril. Now alarmed, and worried, she flung the door open and ran the few feet to Ashe’s room, halting i
n the doorway at the sight that greeted her.

  Aiston and Aldin laid Ashe on the bed and Ebony nearly fainted when she saw him. The front of his shirt and pants were coated in blood. Had it not been smeared up the side of his neck and on his brother’s arms, she might not have realized it was blood since his black clothes camouflaged the dark red color. She gasped and everyone in the room spun to stare at her in concern. Even Aldin’s face showed tight lines pulling at his mouth with worry. His obvious concern kicked her anxiety up a notch as Aldin rarely got riled about anything. Ashe’s eyes, nearly black, ringed with only a thin line of turquoise, trained on her and a shiver of fear slithered through her veins. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her but he looked as if he were a lion sizing up its next meal, which appeared to be her.

  “My God! What happened?” Ebony took a tentative step forward only to have Aiston block her way.

  Aiston gently lay his hands on her shoulders. “Ebony, you should go back to your room. Everything will be okay, but it’s too dangerous for you to be here right now.” He gave her a gentle push toward the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”