Blood Lust

by Alexandra Ivy

  “How do you know?”

  Predictably he ignored her question. “It’s also been forty-eight hours since you last slept.”

  Dammit. He had been spying on her.

  She lifted her free hand to press it against his chest. “You’re not my father, Wolfe,” she snapped.

  His lips twisted, his heat pounding against her palm as his gaze lowered to the low-cut neckline of her sleeveless sweater. She deliberately chose clothing that revealed the witch mark, which shimmered with a brilliant emerald sheen. It never hurt to remind her people of her power.

  Only Wolfe could make her feel soft and feminine and sexually vulnerable.

  “I have never once, in all the time I’ve known you, possessed any fatherly feelings toward you.” His low words sent a renegade awareness tingling through her body.

  She clenched her teeth. “Then stop fussing.”

  “It’s my job to protect you,” he reminded her in stark tones. “Even if it’s from your stubborn refusal to take care of yourself.”

  Lana grimaced. He had a point. The Tagos was directly responsible for ensuring the well-being of the Mave. And she might have appreciated his attempt to play the mother hen if it didn’t threaten to undermine her icy command over her emotions.

  She couldn’t allow herself to become addicted to Wolfe’s unwavering concern.

  She couldn’t rely on anyone.

  “I will eat and rest after my meeting with Calder,” she said, holding his gaze until he took a reluctant step backward.

  He glanced toward the file folder in her hand. “Why are you meeting with the Master of Gifts?”

  “Kaede contacted me earlier.”

  Wolfe was on instant alert. “What did he discover?”

  The constriction that was making it difficult to breathe slowly eased as Wolfe deliberately leashed his raw, male power.

  “He thinks the leader of the Brotherhood is hiding a high-blood.”

  Wolfe’s jaw tightened. “A captive?”

  Lana gave a slow shake of her head. None of them wanted to believe that one of their own could be anything but completely loyal.

  Unfortunately the past months had proven that high-bloods were just as likely to betray their people as humans.

  “He didn’t think so,” she admitted.

  The ebony eyes smoldered with revulsion. “A traitor?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Shit,” Wolfe bit out.

  Yeah. That about summed it up.

  “Kaede managed to take a picture on his cell phone and send it to me,” she said.

  His brows snapped together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She didn’t take offense at his annoyance. She rarely kept information from him.

  “It was at a distance and the man was standing in the shadows,” she explained. “Thankfully I had enough to work with to conjure a clearer image.”

  Unexpectedly his finger reached up to brush the delicate skin beneath her eyes.

  “That explains these shadows,” he murmured.

  She struggled not to react to his light touch, instead recalling the complicated spell that had not only demanded total concentration, but had taken a physical toll.

  In the end it’d been worth it.

  The fuzzy, too-dark picture had slowly been transformed into an image she hoped would give them a lead on the mysterious high-blood working with the Brotherhood.

  She held up the file folder. “Now that I have something to work with, I want to see if Calder can find him in the database.”

  “Fine.” He nodded his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

  “There’s no need for you to—”

  Her cool dismissal came to an abrupt end as he wrapped a hand around her nape and tugged her against the hard length of his body.

  “Don’t press me, Lana,” he warned her in low tones. “I’m very close to carrying you to your rooms and handcuffing you to your bed.”

  She stiffened in outrage. Or at least she was telling herself it was outrage.

  There was no way in hell she was going to admit there might be a traitorous thrill of excitement at his rough grip.

  “You think handcuffs could hold me?” she demanded, allowing a hint of her thunderous magic to flicker through the air.

  Despite the promise of pain, his fingers tightened on her nape, his eyes smoldering with a barely concealed hunger.

  “There are other ways to keep you there.” His voice softened to a low whisper, his head lowering until his lips hovered just above her mouth. “Do you want me to explain?”

  Desire slammed into her with the force of a freight train, nearly sending her to her knees.

  God Almighty, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt a man’s touch. And even then it’d never been like this.

  No man could ever compare to Wolfe.

  But while her heart raced and her stomach twisted with need, she forced herself to shake her head in denial.

  “Wolfe,” she softly protested.

  The air hummed with the awareness that sparked between them.

  “Yes?”

  She had to force the words past the lump in her throat. “You have to stop this.”

  “And if I don’t want to?” he murmured.

  Time seemed to halt as they stood poised on a knife’s edge, their gazes entangled. Lana understood the danger. One brush of his lips, one caress of his hand, and she would combust.

  Her desire for this male had been churning just below the surface for years.

  And if she was honest, she’d admit there was a huge part of her that wanted to give in to the madness. Why not? She was a female with the usual needs, no matter how often she tried to deny them.

  But she’d made a promise to herself when she’d accepted the position of Mave. A promise that she couldn’t toss aside just because it was inconvenient.

  “This will never be possible,” she whispered.

  His fingers tightened, his heat flaring around her. “Never is a long time.”

  “Don’t—”

  Her protest didn’t have the opportunity to leave her lips before he was abruptly dropping his hand and heading toward the office door.

  “Let’s show your picture to Calder,” he said in smooth tones.

  Lana swayed at his sudden withdrawal. Then, with a silent chastisement at allowing Wolfe to knock her off balance, she was stiffening her spine and forcing her feet forward.

  “Stubborn,” she muttered beneath her breath.

  Of course Wolfe heard her. Stupid super-hearing. His lips twitched as he placed his hand on her lower back and urged her out of the office and down the hallway.

  “That’s why you hired me.”

  She snorted, recalling the day Wolfe had strolled casually into her office. She’d known from the start he was going to be trouble.

  “Actually I think you arrived at Valhalla and told me you were taking control of the Sentinels,” she said.

  “Someone had to,” he assured her. “The monks were willing to accept the philosophy of Valhalla, but they wanted to make sure their warriors had a voice in the decision-making.” His thumb brushed intimately against her lower back. “And you have to admit I’ve been useful.”

  “On occasion.” She sent him a narrow-eyed glare. “You can also be a pain in the ass.”

  He flashed a wicked smile. “I try.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bas was lying on his side next to Myst, aimlessly stroking his fingers through her hair as he closely monitored her distracted expression.

  They’d had a few hours of sleep, but he was in no hurry to leave the bed. Hell, if it was up to him, they might stay there for the next month.

  His lips twisted at the irony.

  He’d spent three centuries enjoying transitory relationships with the most beautiful women in the world. They came, they went, and while he was always faithful during their time together, he’d never wanted to simply lie in bed with them and . . . snuggle.
>
  Kaede would laugh himself sick if he could see him now.

  Or maybe not, he wryly admitted. His enforcer had been bewitched by Myst. The younger male would no doubt thoroughly appreciate Bas’s reluctance to leave the bed.

  There was a tiny movement at his side as Myst blinked and slowly turned her head, meeting his unwavering gaze with a hint of surprise.

  “I didn’t know you were awake,” she murmured, a flustered blush staining her cheeks.

  His breath lodged in his throat as he was struck again by her beauty. The early morning sunlight shimmered in her silver hair and deepened the darkness of her eyes. She looked like an angel.

  Young and fragile and unbearably tempting.

  His fingers trailed down her throat, tracing along the sheet she had clutched to her breasts. As if he hadn’t kissed every silky inch of her.

  More than once.

  The memory instantly had him hard and wanting more.

  Yeah, he was a greedy bastard, but who knew when he would have this woman all willing and naked in his bed again?

  “Did you speak with Molly?” he murmured.

  She stiffened in surprise. “How did you know?”

  “Your face gets all soft and gooey.”

  “Gooey?”

  “Yes, gooey.” He leaned down to plant a tender, lingering kiss on her mouth. “Is she okay?”

  “Yes.” A wistful smile touched her lips. “She misses you, but she’s enjoying her adventure.”

  “I feel like a piece of me is missing,” he admitted with blunt sincerity. He never tried to hide the fact that his daughter was the center of his world. Not that he was opposed to sharing his attention. Not when it was with the beautiful woman lying next to him. “Of course, there are a few benefits to having a night alone with her mother.”

  “We should—”

  “Finish up what we started?” he interrupted her soft words. He didn’t want to hear any sensible suggestions about getting up to shower or eat or contact Valhalla. Instead, he slid his leg over hers, his thickening cock pressing against the side of her hip. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Her eyes widened, her heart racing loud enough for him to hear it in the silence that cloaked the room.

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” she breathed.

  He chuckled, bending his neck to stroke his lips over her heated cheeks. Would there ever come a day when he wasn’t utterly beguiled by this female?

  History assured him that he would eventually tire of her. It always happened. The initial rush of lust would wear down to tedious boredom. But gazing down at her exquisite face, he couldn’t deny a whisper of warning telling him that Myst was so deeply engraved on his soul he would never be rid of her.

  “Are you sure?” he teased, using his tongue to trace the line of her stubborn jaw.

  A groan was wrenched from her lips. “What are we doing?”

  His hand gently tugged the sheet from her clenched fingers, revealing the pale perfection of her slender body. The breath was wrenched from him at the intensity of his need.

  He’d made love to her over and over, but he still craved her like she was a drug.

  “If you have to ask, then I’m fairly sure I’m doing something wrong,” he muttered, planting a line of kisses down the length of her collarbone.

  With a shiver she lifted her hands to grasp his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh with delicious pinpricks of pain.

  “I can’t afford to waste time,” she said.

  “Wasting time?” Bas lifted his head, studying her flushed face with a lift of his brows. “I have to admit that’s the most original insult a woman has delivered when she’s lying in my arms.”

  She lowered her lashes, no doubt hoping to hide the desire that was darkening her eyes. A wasted effort. Her arousal spiced the air with honeysuckle heat.

  “Bas, you know what I mean.”

  “Where do you suggest we go?” he demanded, his hand skimming up her hip to rest on her lower stomach.

  He wasn’t praying that she was pregnant. Myst had suffered enough when she’d been forced to be separated from Molly. And until they’d rewritten her future, she would be in constant danger.

  But there was a part of him that was already preparing for the day when she was no longer in peril and he could convince her to create another miracle.

  Together.

  “We need to go back to the farmhouse,” she insisted. “We have to speak with Boggs.”

  His hand moved upward, over her too-prominent ribs, before gently cupping her breast.

  “Think, cara,” he urged in soft tones, smiling as her rose-topped nipple hardened to an enticing nub. “That’s exactly where the Brotherhood will be expecting you to go.”

  She trembled, her tongue reaching out to wet her dry lips. “We can’t stay here.”

  His gaze locked on her lush mouth, spikes of need shooting through him. It shouldn’t be possible to want her with such brutal need. Not after he’d sated his passion just a few hours ago.

  But he was discovering that Myst shattered all his preconceived ideas of how a relationship should be between a man and woman.

  Rolling on top of her naked body, he hissed in pleasure as her legs instinctively parted, allowing the tip of his cock to rest against the entrance of her body.

  “It’s as safe a place as any to wait for Kaede to discover how our enemies knew where you were going to be,” he said, his mouth seeking the racing pulse at the base of her throat.

  He fiercely wanted to devour her. To shove deep inside her welcoming heat and lose himself in raw, mindless pleasure. At the same time he wanted to take it slow, savoring each touch. Each kiss.

  He decided on the slow, savoring route.

  His head lowered to brush a light kiss over her lips. A promise of things to come.

  She struggled against the passion that was rapidly spiraling out of control.

  “And if Kaede can’t discover anything?” she managed to ask.

  He kissed the tip of her chin, the seductive dip beneath her ear, and the curve of her upper breast.

  “Then we’ll have Lana arrange another meeting with Boggs,” he murmured against her skin. “Someplace where we can have Sentinels in position to protect you.” His exploration at last led him to the puckered tip of her nipple, and, deliberately holding her darkened gaze, he gave it a slow lick. “Okay?”

  She shuddered, her back arching in silent invitation. “Okay,” she muttered.

  He closed his mouth over her nipple, using his teeth and tongue to wrench a cry from her lips.

  Lifting his head, he studied her with a blatant hunger. “Any other objections?”

  “I . . .” Her breath was released on a low groan as he slowly penetrated her, tilting his hips forward until his cock was buried deep inside her moist channel. “No,” she rasped, her arms wrapping around his neck. “No objections.”

  * * *

  Lana stood in the center of the Master of Gifts’ office with every appearance of serene patience. It was the image that she’d perfected over the years and no one looking at her would ever guess that beneath her calm exterior she was seething with emotion.

  Of course, her aloof composure was made considerably easier by the fact that Wolfe had chosen to remain in the hallway to prevent them from being interrupted. The mere thought of having to share cluttered space with the sizzling dominance of his presence was enough to make her shudder.

  It was difficult enough to maintain the barrier between them when they were in their roles of Mave and Tagos. But when he was determined to remind her that she was very much a woman despite her responsibilities, it became almost impossible.

  And right now, she needed to concentrate on the threat to her people.

  Pretending she couldn’t sense the aggravating male who was pacing the floor just outside the closed door, she instead watched the tall, painfully thin man with long gray hair that he’d scraped back into a tail at his nape. He was wearing a pair
of dark pants that were wrinkled and a loose cardigan beginning to fray around the edges.

  He looked like a typical absentminded professor, although she was well aware there was a brilliant mind beneath his shabby appearance.

  At the moment, he was threading his way through the tunnels of books and papers stacked on the tables, desks, and shelves that lined the room as he headed toward the computer beeping loud enough to make Lana flinch.

  Thankfully pressing a button on the laptop that brought an end to the alarm, Calder hunched over the desk, a smile of triumph softening his sharp features.

  “Ah,” he murmured. “I think we have a match.”

  Lana felt a surge of relief. When she’d given the image to Calder she hadn’t been sure the unknown high-blood would be listed in the database. There were far too many of her people who remained fearful of revealing their gifts and preferred to live as a human. Unless one of Calder’s staff managed to locate them, they could remain lost in the shadows.

  “Who is it?” she demanded, remaining in the center of the room as Calder printed off the information and headed in her direction.

  She felt like she was standing in a maze of dominos where one wrong move would send everything toppling into chaos.

  “Peter Baldwin,” Calder said, coming to a halt at her side. “A clairvoyant.”

  Lana ignored her regret at the thought that a high-blood would betray his people to join with the Brotherhood.

  “He can do individual readings?”

  “I think . . . no, wait.”

  Lana grimly struggled to hold on to her patience as Calder shuffled through the stack of papers.

  “You found something?” she at last prodded, knowing her companion well enough to realize he might very well have forgotten her presence.

  “He’s very specialized,” the older man at last muttered.

  “Specialized?”

  Calder lifted his head to reveal pale eyes and a small tattoo of a triangle within a circle that was placed on his temple. The mark was a powerful spell that increased his ability to sense high-bloods.

  “He can touch an object and sporadically see where the owner of that object will be in the future.”