Rush of Darkness

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Rush of Darkness Page 8

by Rhyannon Byrd


  A little warning bell started to sound from somewhere deep inside her mind, but she ignored it, too fascinated to back down now. “Why?”

  A grim burst of laughter spilled over, and he leaned his head back onto his broad shoulders, staring up at the corrugated ceiling. “Hell if I know.”

  “You’re lost, aren’t you?” she said softly, suddenly feeling as if she was sensing him on a level that went beyond her powers, and it was unnerving. She didn’t want to share that kind of emotional connection with the human, instinctively interpreting his tones and expressions and body language, almost as if she were his lover. It was too…intimate. Too real.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, a notch forming between his brows as he lowered his head.

  With a nervous shrug, she said, “Your life has been turned upside down. You now work with your enemies. You fight against men who were once your friends. I might not be able to read you clearly, but I can sense the conflict within you. And I’d be willing to bet that sometimes you must feel as if you’re trapped inside some kind of dream.”

  Quietly, he said, “Is that how you feel?”

  Her mouth twitched, and she knew the small smile touching her lips looked bitter. “If so, then I’ve been trapped in a nightmare for months. If I could, I’d wake up and find that this entire year never happened.”

  “I’ve felt that same way before,” he told her, his rough voice resonating through her body like an emotion, and she knew he was thinking about the months that had followed his family’s death.

  “I know you have,” she whispered, before taking a deep breath and hardening her tone. “But I’m not your ticket to redemption, McConnell. If you’re thinking you can save me from myself and absolve your sins, it’s not going to work. You should cut your losses now and let me finish this on my own.”

  His eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything in response, his phone rang. After checking the display, he took the call, and without so much as a word to her, he walked out onto the room’s shallow balcony, shutting the double doors behind him. Raine leaned back against the headboard, trying to hear his conversation, but all she could make out was the deep rumble of his voice. So she settled for simply watching him instead, allowing herself a moment to appreciate those broad, muscular shoulders and the long, powerful lines of his body. He had to be at least a few inches over six feet, which was tall for a human, the years he’d spent honing his body into a lethal weapon looking damn good on him, even if it did give him the dangerous air of a predator. She didn’t imagine, though, that he’d ever had any trouble finding women who were willing to play the part of his prey.

  And why on earth does that thought make me want to track down said women and scratch their bloody eyes out?

  She was still mulling over an answer when he slipped the phone in his pocket and came back into the room. A groove had woven its way between his brows again, and she waited for him to tell her what had happened. But the words never came. Instead, he just started that restless pacing again, looking as if he were a million miles away, completely lost in his thoughts.

  “Is there something wrong?” she finally asked, unable to take it anymore.

  “Everything’s fine,” he replied, his tone flat, and she knew he was lying.

  “Damn it, don’t do that.”

  He slid her a shadowed look. “Do what?”

  “Keep things from me. Considering you’ve attached yourself to me, against my will, the least you can do is be honest.”

  He didn’t look happy about it, but he gave her the explanation she’d demanded. “You know that Westmore has been sending scouts sniffing around Harrow House for months now, trying to get under our defenses, right?”

  She nodded.

  “The part you didn’t know is that since he hasn’t had any success, he’s taken several Watchmen who belong to other compounds and held them hostage, demanding you in exchange.”

  “And no one ever told me?” She pressed one hand to her throat, feeling as if the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room. “This is insane. Why didn’t anyone tell me what was happening?”

  He stopped pacing and propped his shoulder against the wall. “They didn’t tell you because there’s nothing you could have done,” he muttered. “But this proves that your family has done the right thing by remaining at the compound in Rome. It also proves how dangerous it was for you to leave Harrow House.”

  Not wanting to rehash that particular argument, she asked, “What happened to the Watchmen who were captured?”

  His expression tightened. “My unit was able to recover one of the shifters. He was being kept at an old Collective safe house in Austria.”

  “And the others?”

  He shook his head. “They didn’t make it.”

  Her throat was so dry she couldn’t even swallow. “What about the Watchman you rescued?”

  “He just passed away. That’s what Kellan was calling to tell me.”

  “Jesus… All that because of me?” Her voice cracked, and she lowered her gaze to the bed, feeling as if she’d been scraped raw inside. “No wonder no one followed me to Rome last week. Your friends must have been relieved when I finally left their home.”

  “It wasn’t like that and you know it. The only reason Kierland didn’t drag you right back when you left Harrow House was because he figured it might be safer for you in Rome with your family. But you snuck away from there as well and for some reason your parents covered for you. Kierland only found out that you’d left the compound the day before yesterday, and your mother refused to tell him where you’d gone.”

  Lifting her gaze back to his, she said, “So you decided to take action and went to see my parents in person.”

  He gave her one of those nearly imperceptible nods, the masculine arrogance of the gesture reminding her of the shifters he now called friends. God, no wonder he got along with the testosterone beasties so well. Despite the differences in their DNA, they were remarkably similar, both in attitude and determination.

  Realizing he was carefully studying her facial features, she started to blush. “What is it?”

  “You look a lot like your mother. But you have your dad’s chin.”

  “I have his stubborn streak, as well.”

  His head tilted a little to the side. “Why did your parents cover for you, Raine? It’s obvious, after meeting them, that they love you.”

  The heat in her face burned brighter. “I wasn’t exactly honest with them about what I’m doing. I told them that the Deschanel Court had ordered me to hunt down the Casus, but that the elders didn’t want the Watchmen involved. They think I’m working with the Förmyndares.”

  His eyes went wide. “Christ. Couldn’t your mother tell you were lying to her?”

  “No,” she admitted with a sad kind of smile. “She can’t read me.”

  “Can she see the future?” he asked, his gaze sharpening as he suddenly straightened away from the wall. “Not for you, but for others?”

  She rolled her shoulder, wishing she could get inside his mind and find out what the hell he was thinking. “Sometimes she has…flashes,” she explained, “but it’s nothing she can control. Now tell me why you want to know.”

  He was back to rubbing that golden stubble along his jaw. “I just had the feeling that she wasn’t all that surprised when I showed up.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “So you think my mom didn’t protest my sneaking away from the compound because she believed you were coming to play the part of my rescuer?”

  “I think she knows how seriously I take your protection.” His tone was gruff, and with a small jolt of surprise, Raine realized he wasn’t joking.

  “Don’t say things like that,” she said shakily, unable to control the shiver that coursed through her body. “It makes me nervous, because I can’t figure out what you’re after.”

  “I’m not after anything, Raine. I just want you to be safe.” He cut a quick look toward the windo
w, then headed over and lowered the blinds, blocking out the early-morning rays of sunshine that were creeping in. “We should get some rest while we can. That nine o’clock train to Berlin you want to catch doesn’t leave us much time to sleep.”

  She pulled her lower lip through her teeth, silently debating what to do, then spoke in a nervous rush before she could change her mind. “You don’t have to use the couch. It’s about three feet too short for you. You can lie on the bed, so long as you keep to your side of it.”

  He turned toward her slowly, his brows arched. “You sure that wouldn’t bother you?”

  She nodded, but the way he was staring at her made her fidget. “What?”

  “You’re just not acting like I’d expected,” he said carefully, pushing his big hands back in his pockets. “You’re much calmer.”

  It wasn’t easy, but she forced a casual shrug. “I know you won’t force yourself on me. So as long as you don’t try anything stupid or accidentally touch my hair, I won’t panic.”

  His eyes got that soft, hot glow that always ramped up her pulse. “And what if I lose my head a little and try to kiss you again?”

  “Then I’ll lay you flat,” she drawled, moving off the bed and setting her laptop on the bedside table. “Just like the last time.”

  “Just for a kiss? You’re a bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea,” she muttered under her breath, slipping off her socks and then climbing into the bed with her jeans and T-shirt still on. “We vamps are as bloodthirsty as it gets.”

  He came closer, and she turned her head on the pillow, thinking he looked even taller when she was lying down, his shoulders even broader. “You know, I might be a lowly human,” he teased, one of those crooked grins crossing his mouth, “but I’m not a weakling.”

  “Neither am I. Not anymore.” She rolled over, giving him her back, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then the mattress sagged under his weight as he sat down on the other side of the bed, no doubt removing his boots, and she reached out to turn off the lamp, before softly adding, “So try not to forget it.”

  RAINE KNEW SHE WAS dreaming, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was keeping more of this feeling, because it was too good to just give up. Too comforting and warm, easing the tight knot in her chest. Turning her muscles to jelly. No tension…no stress. Just an easy, exquisite sense of simply being.

  She stood looking into the window of a house, watching a teenage boy play a board game with a little girl who looked like she was his sister. The boy was probably around fifteen or sixteen, well into the age where girls and cars were the only things that mattered. He should have been in hell sitting there on a pink carpet with a laughing little girl who couldn’t have been more than six, but amazingly, he looked as if he was enjoying himself, his green eyes shining whenever he said something that made the child erupt into another fit of giggles.

  While the little girl rolled the dice, the boy lifted his hand, shoving his golden hair back from his face, and the casual gesture made Raine gasp, her own hands lifting, pressing flat against the chilly windowpane as she tried to get a clearer look. The gesture was so familiar, she suddenly knew exactly who she was watching. This was a teenage Seth. But what did it mean? Had she managed to slip into his dreams while they were sleeping? Or was she simply seeing one of his memories? A memory from his childhood, when he’d played with his little sister. A sister he’d lose not long after this moment, judging by his age in the dream. Raine quickly spun away from the window, unable to watch anymore. All those warm, cozy feelings had just been destroyed, a cold, sharp ache left in their place.

  “I don’t want to see this,” she croaked, knowing she had to leave. She had no idea where she was going, but she started to run down the moonlit street. The trees swayed with the violent breeze, pulling in closer at her sides, until the road became little more than a path, the wind and leaves whipping against her body with stinging bursts of pain. Stark howls began to sound in the distance, reminding her of the Casus, and she cried out, afraid, using every last ounce of strength to run harder…faster. She looked back over her shoulder, terrified of what she might find, but there was nothing but a deep, impenetrable darkness, like staring into the bottom of a well.

  “Must go faster,” she whispered, but when she looked forward again, she ran into a wall. An unyielding, towering wall of hot, masculine muscle. Panic gripped her tighter, until she lifted her gaze and found it was an adult McConnell holding her in his arms, crushing her against his hard chest.

  Seth.

  With her next gasping breath, his warm, mouthwatering scent filled her head, and desire surged through her with so much force she felt stunned, as if she’d been dealt a violent blow.

  God, she might not trust this man, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted him physically. Every part of him. His tall, muscle-hard body. His strength and his power. As well as that intoxicating rush of blood pulsing through his veins.

  Unable to control her actions, Raine felt herself lifting onto her tiptoes, her hands curling around the back of his neck, his skin hot and silky beneath her palms and lips as she touched her mouth to the side of his throat. He made a low, masculine sound of approval, his arms locking tight around her waist as he crushed her against him, his heavy erection pressing into her stomach, making her achy and wet. Raine tasted the saltiness of his flesh with a flick of her tongue, consumed by visceral hunger, and in the next instant she sank her fangs deep into his jugular, the scalding wash of his blood so good she immediately started to come. His throat muffled her sharp cry as she pulsed and throbbed and shattered, the orgasm so strong she could feel the pleasure rushing through every part of her body, bursting in every cell.

  He growled her name, so she sucked harder, drinking more of him down, knowing she’d need to stop in a few seconds. He said her name a little more gruffly, and she somehow found the strength to pull her fangs free, swiping her tongue over the tiny puncture wounds. Her head lolled back as his hands gripped her ass, lifting and grinding her against the thick ridge of his cock, the friction so good she was building up to another devastating release, and she couldn’t control the feral, provocative sounds breaking from her throat, wanting him so badly she thought she might go out of her mind if she didn’t get him inside her.

  “Goddamn it, Raine! Wake up!”

  She gasped at the sudden roar of her name, instantly ripped from the erotic depths of her dream as she opened her eyes and found McConnell standing beside the bed, his bandaged hand braced on the headboard, the other buried in her pillow, so that he was kind of leaning over her without making her feel crowded. She knew she was bright red, blushing, her heart hammering so loudly even his human senses must have been able to pick up the erratic sound.

  “You okay?” he asked, giving her one of those hard, penetrating stares that made her feel like he could see right inside her.

  “I’m fine,” she rasped, wetting her lips, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  “I know you need more rest, but you were moaning in your sleep. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare.”

  Was he messing with her? Oh, God, she hadn’t called out his name, had she?

  “It was nothing,” she muttered, realizing she’d been thrashing so badly she’d kicked off the covers, the cool air making her shiver.

  “Didn’t sound like nothing,” he murmured, the barest hint of a smile suddenly playing over his mouth as he lowered his gaze to the hammering beat of her pulse at the hollow of her throat. Then his gaze dipped lower, trailing over her body, touching on her breasts…stomach…legs, his smile lifting the corner of his mouth when he caught sight of her pink toenails.

  “Can you please move?” she croaked, sounding like she’d swallowed a frog. “I need to get up.”

  His gaze slowly made its way back to hers, leaving a flush of heat in its wake. “You don’t have to rush,” he said huskily. “You can sleep a little more.”

  “What t
ime is it?”

  “Only eight.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Then there’s no time for sleep.”

  “Sure there is,” he murmured, and her embarrassment quickly morphed into irritation. She knew damn well he would have liked nothing better than to keep her from reaching Berlin.

  Scooting her way to the other side of the bed, she said, “I’m leaving this hotel room in twenty minutes, McConnell. You can either come with me or stay here. The choice is up to you.”

  He straightened to his full height as his smile slipped away, leaving his expression guarded. “Are you sure you’ll be okay in the sunlight?”

  Though the Deschanel could be badly burned by the sun, they could go out into the light of day without suffering any serious injuries, so long as they’d recently taken blood from a species who wasn’t sensitive to sunshine.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, climbing off the bed. “I had enough of your blood last night to do the trick.”

  He gave a curt nod and started to head toward his bag, which was still sitting on the dresser, but stopped and turned back to her when she said his name.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I don’t mean what do you think you should do, because of that misguided notion you have of protecting me. What do you want to do?”

  For a moment, he only stood there, giving her another one of those dark, predatory stares. Then he quietly said, “Questions like that put me in a hell of a situation, Raine, since I don’t want to lie to you. But on the other hand, I don’t think you’re ready for the truth.” His eyes got darker. “So for now, I guess I’ll be helping you kill a Casus.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Berlin, Germany

  RAINE COULDN’T BELIEVE what she’d done. She’d actually slept beside a former Collective hunter and had a freaking sex dream about him. A dream in which she came harder than she ever had before. What in God’s name was wrong with her?

 

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