by Jessica Lee
“If you call me personally ripping your balls off for touching her, sweet”—Guerin slammed his boot into Markus’s cage—“then, yes, this is gonna be sweet.”
The first twinges of hunger seized his gut. With the constant stress of the silver on his system, his need for blood had been amplified. Then it hit him. How the hell was he supposed to care for Alexandria? Steeling his emotions, Markus turned his attention back to Guerin. “How long?”
“How long what?” Guerin shot back.
“That we’ve been out. How long have we been down here?”
“Not quite twenty-four hours,” Guerin replied. “Why? You getting hungry for your whore back home?”
The former warrior lifted one brow at Guerin. “No.” He looked to Alexandria, then back. “But she’ll need to eat soon.” Markus matched the lethal intensity of Guerin’s dark gaze. “Alexandria only feeds from me.”
“I don’t do threats, minion.” The warrior snarled. “Especially feeble ones that come from vampires in silver cages. So don’t waste your air.”
“No one touches her.” Markus sprang from the bottom of the cage to the door. “Do you fucking hear me? No one feeds her but me. She’s mine!” he roared.
“Yours?” Guerin scoffed and shook his head. “You’d better rethink those words. Last I heard, Marguerite had already laid claim to your ass.”
Footsteps entered the room behind Guerin, interrupting his and Markus’s heart-to-heart. Guerin glanced over his shoulder as Kenric and his mate returned, with Emily now sporting a white bandage on her left hand. They both moved in beside Guerin.
“How’s your hand? Better?” All heads whipped to Markus at the sound of his question.
“Yes, it is,” Emily said. “But why would you care?” She clutched her hand to her chest, her eyes narrowing on Markus.
He shrugged. “Just asking, that’s all. Isn’t that the polite thing to do?” Lifting a brow, he cocked his head in her direction. “Fucking Marguerite hasn’t stripped me of all my manners.” He raised his head a couple of inches and then locked his gaze with Emily’s mate. “You should know, Kenric. After all those years of filling Marguerite with your cum, and look…you’re still such a nice guy.”
Emily flinched, and Kenric’s eyes blazed right before he swung his palm up in Markus’s direction. An invisible blow landed in his gut, doubling him over. His feet lifted from the cage’s floor, and he flew back, slamming into the bars. Air punched from his lungs.
“Don’t let Marguerite take everything from you, Markus,” Kenric said, his voice hoarse, but his words controlled. Didn’t the male understand anything? She already had.
“She isn’t worth your soul,” the master added. Shaking off the rattle inside his brain, Markus glanced up from the floor. It had to be a bitch for Kenric to keep rage from consuming him. After his part in what had been done to Emily… The fact that Kenric hadn’t opened the door and killed him by now, Markus would never understand. “You were a cold, hard-assed bastard, but you had honor and loyalty once. I sensed that in you, or you’d have never been Enclave.” Kenric’s right hand coiled into a fist. “Reach inside and find some of that.” God, the vampire didn’t have a fucking clue. Shoving the loose strands of hair obscuring part of his vision back, he glanced over at Alexandria. She was the only thing that mattered now. What Kenric kept babbling about was a lost cause. “Let her mind go, Markus.”
In a slow and deliberate rotation, Markus returned his gaze to Kenric. “Why should I? So you can save me?” He glanced once to Guerin, then back to Kenric. “Or kill me?” Markus pushed to his feet and came forward. “I think my bet’s on the latter.” He turned his back. “Not gonna happen. The girl’s mine.”
“One way or the other, you will give us one of the women in your life,” Kenric said. “In a few days, your body will demand its feeding, and if she doesn’t come for you first, you’ll be begging for her to find you.” The warrior paused as if gathering his thoughts. “But there is another choice—a deal—one I’d be willing to make for Elle. For one of my former Enclave warriors.” Markus glanced over his shoulders. Kenric stood with one arm now wrapped around his mate. He spun on his heels, facing them.
“A deal…” What the hell was Kenric St. James up to? And based on the shocked look plastered on his commander’s face, whatever he’d cooked up wasn’t something that had been part of their little plan.
“I understand the physical pain involved in walking away from Marguerite, from her ancient blood. But mine, a master’s blood, is as potent as an ancient’s, if not more so.”
“Your point?” Markus stated, edging forward.
“I offer this: give us Alexandria back, and I will help you escape Marguerite’s hold.”
Fuck. Me.
Chapter Fifteen
Elle closed her eyes for a second and breathed deep before entering the back door of Wicked Ways. Her steps felt lighter this evening, like she’d dropped a heavy burden off her shoulders back at Arran’s cabin. And she had—the trauma of her past and the pain of loving someone whom she’d feared would never be a part of her life. Her stomach did that crazy flip at the memories of the night before and the hours she’d spent in Arran’s arms and, well, various other positions. Heat fled to her cheeks, and a rush of warmth spread between her legs. A low rumble vibrated off his chest, bringing her nipples to hard peaks.
Using the arm draped across her shoulder, he pulled her even tighter against him. “Don’t do that to me, kitten. Not here.” His voice was deep, raspy in her ear. “That scent you’re putting off will drive a male crazy. I don’t want to kill anyone here tonight for fantasizing about that sweet pussy of yours.” The wet heat of his tongue followed the curve of her ear. “And it is sweet.” His fangs grazed the tip of her earlobe. She gasped and pulled back.
“You are bad, vampire.” She pinned him with a glare.
He grinned. “Exactly how you like me.”
They passed through the deserted main room of the club and headed toward the basement. The emptiness of the large space felt even creepier than when it was packed with its usual macabre scene of dancers. Kenric had informed the club’s owner, Jean-Claude, that the club was closed until further notice. That further notice being Marguerite’s capture and subsequent death.
Downstairs, they found Logan wearing faded jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt that had seen better days. He stood with his back against one of the support columns near Alex’s cage. Elle hurried across the room, unable to hold back another second when she noticed her sister awake and sitting on the floor of the cage. She breezed past Logan and lowered to her knees in front of Alex.
Her sister sat facing her, but her eyes were dark voids. “Alex…? It’s me.” She stared straight through Elle. “Alex, please… Please talk to me.” Elle reached through the bars and brushed her fingertips across her sister’s knee. “I’ve missed you so much.” Alex jerked and shoved farther back into her cell. Oh God. Elle pulled her hand back as her heart rebelled at the sudden revelation: her sister didn’t know her.
In her peripheral vision, she caught the moment tension seized every muscle in Logan’s body. She’d almost turned around to see what had gone down, but as soon as she glanced up at his face, Elle realized the source of his anxiety. Her. Or more specifically, her scent. Logan held Arran pinned with a glare containing one hundred years of pain and resentment.
She’d been so engrossed in her sister, she hadn’t thought about how her scent would have changed from last night’s activities. Nor had she considered the impact it would have on Logan when she saw him tonight. Damn, she didn’t want to cause him any more pain.
“Interesting…” She jerked her head in the direction of the deep voice coming from the cage to her left. Markus stood next to the bars separating them, facing Elle. He lifted his chin in her direction and made an exaggerated display of sniffing the air. “So,” he added. “You and Arran finally fucked.” He lowered his gaze. Eyes the color of storm clouds collided with hers. “Feel
better, baby?”
A roar, followed by a loud bang echoing off Markus’s cage, made Elle shoot to her feet. Arran had flown across the room and rammed his boot into the cell door. The hinges rattled in complaint.
“Shut your fucking mouth!”
“Or what?” Markus sauntered to his door. “You gonna hurt me?” he pouted, then wrapped his hand around one of the slender bars of his cage. The sound of sizzling meat filled the room.
Elle scrambled to the front of Markus’s cage with Logan hot on her heels. “What are you doing?” she shouted. He grinned in response, never relinquishing his who’s-gonna-flinch-first stare with Arran’s. Wispy tendrils of smoke leaked from beneath his palm. “You’re insane.” The barely audible words fell from her lips.
Markus uncurled his fingers from the bar and dropped his gaze to hers. “Quite possibly,” he said, as if he were stating no more than his shoe size.
Good God, what had Marguerite done to him?
Markus lifted his hand and exposed his palm to Arran. “Come inside and do your best, warrior.” A growl rumbled from Arran. “No?” He shrugged and lowered his arm with a smirk. The sight of his grin had her itching to scratch it off his face. “Then what?” he went on to say. “You gonna kill me?” Markus lifted one brow, and his head drifted toward Alex, then back. “I think not.” His smirk morphed, replacing what had been a smile of cruel mirth with something more sadistic and calculating. A core of ice settled in the pit of Elle’s gut and chilled her bones. She shivered and turned her gaze to the motionless form of her sister sitting in the middle of her cage. How long had Alex suffered with this madman inside her head?
“You motherfucking bastard.” Arran slammed his boot into the cage once more.
“Such language, lover boy.” Markus slowly shook his head, and his gaze darted to Elle, then back to Arran. “Do you kiss sweet Elle with that filthy mouth?”
Arran lunged for the cage. Elle screamed. Logan grabbed him and yanked him back. “He’s not fucking worth it,” Logan said with one hand on Arran’s shoulder, the other wrapped around his throat. Arran’s chest heaved. “He’s not worth it. The bastard wants to piss you off. Don’t give him the power.”
Arran’s breathing slowed, and Logan released his hold. Elle couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. Didn’t think it was possible. But Logan had gotten through. He’d pushed past his anger toward Arran and had actually talked him down. Like the team she knew they could be.
“You know,” Markus said, drawing Elle’s attention away from the warriors. “You two lovebirds probably haven’t heard about the very interesting deal Kenric offered me earlier this evening.” Markus’s eyes narrowed on Arran. “I’m sure you were too busy marking your territory to make it here earlier.” Elle held her breath and risked a glance at Arran. He was keeping it together, even though he looked as if he were about to crack a tooth with the tight hold he had on his jaw.
Markus appeared quite pleased with himself as he informed her and Arran of Kenric’s offer to help him escape his addiction from Marguerite if he released Alexandria. “Rather generous of the master, don’t you think?” he said, crouching near the back of his cage. “Also very forgiving of his mate, that she’d be willing to share him with me. After all, I was the first one to try and kill her.” He lifted one hand and checked his fingernails before draping the arm across his knee.
Oh my God! Elle didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it sounded like her prayers may have been answered. She clenched both fists in an effort to staunch the trembling of her arms. “Is this true?” Elle looked in Logan’s direction.
He nodded then motioned with his head for them to follow him into the corridor. “I know he can probably still hear us,” Logan said once they were outside the holding room. “But I just didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction of discussing this in front of him. Anyway”—Logan shook his head—“that’s the story I was told when I relieved Guerin tonight so he could feed. Kenric is up top with Emily saying good night. Blew my fucking mind that Kenric would be willing to forgive the same asshole who’d tried to have his mate murdered.” Logan pulled his dagger free and worked the hilt inside his palm. “Kenric said it was because he understood the addiction, and that the male inside the cage isn’t the warrior we once knew. He and Emily had already discussed it, and if there was a chance to get Markus back and save your sister’s mind at the same time, then he would help him.” Logan shrugged. “He believes Markus deserves that much, because Kenric was the one who’d originally brought Marguerite into our lives.” He shook his head and released a deep breath before sheathing his blade. “He’s one forgiving SOB, that’s all I can say.”
Her insides were a mess. God, if only… All three stepped back into the containment room. Elle looked to Arran then eased over to Markus’s cell. She lowered herself to get a better look at his face. Empty. His expression told her nothing. Elle opened her mouth, then quickly closed it, fear overriding her desire to ask the question. What if the answer was no? Bile stung the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow. She had to know. Had to know if she was going to get her sister back.
“What do you plan to do?” she whispered through tremulous lips. He didn’t answer right away, instead he watched her. Like a bug under a microscope. It was all she could do not to squirm under his inspection.
“I didn’t know she was your sister,” he finally said. “You don’t look that much alike. But I do think you have the same full lips as Alexandria.”
“Different fathers,” Elle blurted out, ready for him to move on and give her the answer she desperately wanted to hear.
“Ah.” He lifted his chin in response. “That explains it.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“No.”
Elle’s heart jerked in her chest. “No, what?” No. No. No. Please, don’t let this happen, God.
“No, I’m not going to answer your question. I haven’t decided yet.”
The breath she’d been holding slid from her lungs. Markus crept over to the front of the cage where she crouched on the other side. “You have to understand, sweet Elle,” he said, his voice low. “It’s a lot to give up. You see, fucking Marguerite and sipping at her vein is a most delicious walk on the dark side.” His tongue flicked out and licked his lips. The snowy-white glint of his descended fangs shone beneath his upper lip. “And I do miss her,” he drawled. Slowly, he reached down between his legs and groped the large bulge in his pants.
“Enough!” Arran’s voice boomed behind her. A second later, he pulled her away from the cage.
Deep laughter rolled from the dark vampire. Arran spun Elle around and marched them from the room.
“Shut the fuck up!” Logan’s voice echoed into the cavernous space of the basement.
Arran guided her toward the dimly lit staircase that would take them toward the club on top. Each step up the stairs felt like a mountain, especially to her thigh muscles. Stopping halfway, she leaned her shoulder against the wall and dropped her gaze to her feet. The words she’d been holding back rushed out of her. “He’s not going to give her up, is he?” A lump lodged in her throat.
Strong arms circled her upper body and pulled her back against a hard chest. “You don’t know that,” Arran murmured into her ear. He reached under her chin and lifted it. “Put your head back up, kitten. This fight isn’t over yet.” Using the tips of his fingers, he turned her face toward his. Gently, his lips touched hers, then deepened into a kiss that said she was his, and he would never give up. She believed him.
Elle turned into his embrace, needing to feel his strong body against hers. She needed him now more than ever. Her feet lifted from the step. She was moving—fast. Arran held her tight in his arms, never breaking their kiss, while he moved them through the club.
The slide of metal rings on a rod and back again, snagged her attention. She pulled her lips away from Arran’s and found herself in the same private viewing room they’d occupied only a few ni
ghts ago. But this time, the dance floor was empty, and she was all alone with the only man she’d ever given her heart.
With a gentle shove, Arran pressed her back against the wall and nuzzled the hollow at her neck. His scent filled her nostrils, sending a rush of dampness into her panties. He smelled so good. Warm spices, like cinnamon and ginger.
“Let me care for you. Lean on me. Let me take your mind away from all the darkness in the basement.”
Yes. How did he know that was exactly what she needed? He was a creature of the night, yet to Elle, he was the light guiding her through the encroaching shadows.
She reached around his back, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and pulled. The shirt slid over his head and down his arms, and she tossed it onto the floor. Her blouse was next. Elle ditched it next to his, leaving only her bra in place. They’d been together only hours before. But at that moment, it felt more like years. She would never get enough of him.
“I want you so much,” she whispered.
Arran’s broad and roughened palms slid up her back. “And you have me,” he growled. “You’ll always have me, kitten.” Elle arched into his hands and rubbed her breasts against the hard wall of his chest. “No matter what happens. You will always have me.”
Her vision blurred. God, how long had she waited to hear those words? Yet her chest ached. Her heart was rupturing for the two people she loved most on the planet: Arran and Alex. Elle finally had everything she ever wanted at her fingertips while her sister had lost it all, including quite possibly her mind. A tear escaped, scorching a path down her cheek.
“Don’t go there.” He grasped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he captured the droplet with a kiss. “Stay here with me,” he whispered. “Don’t think about the ‘what if’s’ or ‘why’s.’ Only us.” Brushing her lips with his own, he breathed, “It’s just us right now.”
Her gaze fell to the washboard ripple of his abs, and her hands followed. She couldn’t help but touch him. She had to. Needed to feel his strength. His power. Needed to cling to him. As long as she had Arran, Elle could get through anything.