Drake the Defender

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Drake the Defender Page 8

by Rhiannon Neeley


  Drake smiled and offered his hand. “Come, my lady.” A dark knight to defend her.

  She took his hand and followed.

  Drake walked carefully, his eyes searching the floor.

  “What are you looking for?” Grace asked.

  “Paw prints. Of a wolf.” He stopped and pointed. “There. He’s been here. Probably using this place just as the others did.” He turned to her. “Odd though. I didn’t see prints when I was here before. And Dirk didn’t mention another vampire, either. Barack must be working on his own.”

  “How many were there? Before, I mean.”

  “Four total. The leader, a nasty male that I’ll tell you about someday. The two women—twins from the looks of them…”

  “So it was the twins that went missing a while back,” Grace said. At least one thing had been solved.

  “I don’t know about that,” Drake said. “There was another. A young boy.”

  The other body probably. The skeleton that Harry had found. But one was missing. “We’ve only found three bodies. What happened to the fourth? The leader?”

  “That’s what you smell. We burned him. In here.”

  Grace shuddered. “So, now what?”

  Drake rubbed the back of his neck. “Barack is out hunting. He’ll come back here just before dawn.” Drake shrugged. “You can help me gather some tools and then—we wait.”

  “What sort of ‘tools’?” Grace asked. She didn’t really know what it took to kill a vampire, other than what she had seen in the movies. She also didn’t think that this “Barack” would allow her to arrest him. Not if he was what Drake said he was. Grace could just see it going to trial. “Vampire Gets Life for Murder”. How the heck long of a prison sentence would that be? Didn’t vampires live forever?

  “Let’s see,” Drake said. “Stakes, knives. You have a gun. It won’t kill him but it can distract him.” Drake snapped his fingers. “Coal oil. Let’s see if we can find some. That’s what helped to burn one of the vampires. He was soaked in coal oil. Went up like a torch.”

  Grace grimaced. “I don’t know if I’d want to watch that.”

  Drake nodded. “It’s not pretty.” He picked up two candles from niches in the wall. “Here,” he said, handing her one. “Let’s go on a scavenger hunt. We’ve got a while before dawn.”

  They entered one of the tunnels. “Colin, my lawyer, is supposed to be our backup,” Drake said as they moved through the dark passage. “I told my cousin to tell him we were coming to the mine. Colin will stand by, watching. If he sees Barack enter the mine, Colin will block his way out.”

  “Won’t that put Barack between us and our way out?”

  Drake glanced over his shoulder and winked. “Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.”

  “I’m glad that you’re so sure we’re going to make it out.” This man is one confident stud, Grace thought, hoping that he really knew what he was doing.

  “Another thing. Barack was in love with the woman who is going to marry another of my cousins.”

  “Yes?” Grace waited for him to continue as they picked their way around some old buckets. Drake reached down into the pile and picked up an axe. He weighed it in his hand. Grace could see that the end of the handle was broken but other than that and some rust, it looked serviceable. Drake shoved the axe into the waistband of his pants, then began to walk again, holding his candle high. “As I was saying … Barack was in love with Lydia and wanted to make her his eternal mate. My cousins prevented him from doing that, but he escaped before they could destroy him.”

  “You’re telling me this for a reason but I haven’t quite grasped what it is,” Grace said. They turned a corner and started down another passage. The air was cool here, deep underground, Grace relished the respite from the day’s heat.

  “I’m telling you this because you look uncannily like Lydia.” Drake stopped and looked her in the eye. “When he put those marks on your neck, he could have very easily killed you. He didn’t.” Drake reached up and drew a finger along the scratches on her neck, stopping at the two puncture wounds. “Barack wants you. You remind him of Lydia.”

  “You mean…”

  “He wants you to share his unearthly life. Right now, he’s either feeding or tracking you.” Drake cradled her chin in his palm. “So, even if he’s not using this place as his lair—he’ll come.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re here.”

  Grace trembled at the thought. She was a strong, independent woman but how was she supposed to fend off a vampire? She had encountered him once and hadn’t fought then. If he was able to overpower her that easily, she didn’t have a chance in Hades. Instinctively, she slid her arms around Drake’s waist and laid her head on his chest. “Don’t let him get me, Drake.”

  His arm slid around her shoulder. “Don’t worry. Didn’t I say I’d defend you? That goes for slaying vampires to anything else you need to be protected from.”

  Grace looked up into his eyes. Their warm whiskey color glimmered in the candlelight but the warmth she saw there came from within him. God help her but she knew right then and there, that this was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

  Grace was madly in love with Drake Raven.

  Fangs and all.

  Chapter Seven

  Drake caught her thoughts. His insides melted when she realized that despite all of her doubts and misgivings—she was in love with him. He whispered in her mind.

  “I love you more than life itself.”

  He felt no change in her. She hadn’t heard him. Drake had hoped that their minds could link, that they could share thoughts and emotions. He knew that his cousins could communicate with their partners by mere thought. He was hoping that he and Grace could do the same. Maybe it would happen as they grew closer. Over time.

  “Let’s see if we can find the coal oil and then a place to hide out while we wait,” he said.

  Grace nodded. “What about candles for light? We’ll need more.”

  Drake winked at her. “I’ve got a couple in my back pocket. We’ll be fine.”

  “What were you before you became a vampire hunter? A Boy Scout?” Grace asked.

  Drake laughed. “Hardly.” Even in these circumstances, she still managed to have a sense of humor. As they began their search again, Drake thought about how glad he was that he had come back to Kentucky. Not only was he in love with this mouthy, stubborn woman with the soft southern accent … he liked her, too.

  “Hey. I remember this,” Grace said when they came to a very small opening in the side of the passage they were moving through. It was only as wide as a person. She passed him and entered the room that had been carved out of the mountain rock. Drake followed.

  Grace stood by a small table. She used her candle and lit a small oil lamp that sat on it. She placed the glass chimney back over the flame and grinned at him. “Look,” she said, pointing to the opposite wall.

  Lined along the wall were all sizes of metal tins. Drake inspected them, sniffing at the contents. Coal oil. “Perfect,” he said. He turned around to find Grace spreading some sort of blanket on what looked to be a small iron bed. Even more perfect, he thought, watching her bend over to smooth the wrinkles out of the blanket. “What is this place?” he asked, wondering why anyone would have a bed here.

  Grace smiled at him, turning to sit on the edge of the bed. “I used to play here. And when I got older, and wanted to run away from home, this is where I ran to.”

  Drake sat down next to her. “How did you get this in here?” The blanket she had spread on the bed didn’t look like it had been lying in a coal mine for years.

  “My brother and I carried this stuff in here, piece by piece. It was a sort of clubhouse. I think he used it to bring girls here, when he was a teenager,” she said.

  Drake leaned toward her. “And … what about you?”

  Her face flushed. “I never brought anyone here, if that’s what you’re thinking. I only came he
re when I wanted to get away from home.” She sighed, looking around the small room. “I can’t believe I forgot about his place. See that wooden box over there?” She pointed toward a long, low wooden box on the other side of the small table. “That’s where I always kept everything.” She rubbed her hand over the blanket. “I kept everything wrapped in plastic and put mothballs in the bottom of the box. It kept things dry, like this blanket. It may smell a little funny but it’s clean.” She smiled at Drake like a child who had found a lost toy.

  “Why did you come here?” he asked. “I mean—why the feeling of needing to get away?” Drake didn’t understand the need to run from your family. The Ravens were a very close-knit family, even to the point of all of them more or less living in the same house. True, the house was more of a “compound”, each of them having their own space, but still … they were within easy reach of each other. It could be that all five Raven men were basically raised together or it may be the fact of their combined purpose that bound them to each other so tightly.

  Grace folded her hands in her lap and picked at her fingernails. “I guess I ran here as a sort of escape,” she began. “It’s kind of hard living with men and trying to compete all of the time.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Drake asked.

  “She died when I was born.” Grace sighed. “I never knew her.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, living with my Dad is an experience in itself. He’s a very stern man. Then, trying to compete with my brother—well—he was perfect.”

  “Was?”

  Grace nodded. “He was shot and killed while on duty. He was the Sheriff. Tore my Dad’s heart out.”

  Drake reached for her hands, taking them into his own. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “It happens. I miss him.” Grace smiled softly. “So, living with them forced me to become strong-willed. Stubborn, you might say. I couldn’t show any form of weakness. And when I didn’t feel like being strong, I ran here.” She squeezed Drake’s hand. “Here I could relax and just ‘be’.”

  Drake smiled and slid his arm around her waist. “How about letting me be the strong one and you can just ‘be’?” he asked.

  “Do you have any idea how absolutely wonderful that sounds?” she asked, leaning into him. “I know that I can be pretty demanding at times. It comes with the way I was raised and the job that I do. But, do you think that you could put up with me being just a girl once in a while?”

  Drake chuckled. “I think I can manage. I sort of like being in control in certain situations.”

  * * * *

  Grace felt what was becoming a familiar tingle when Drake mentioned “being in control”. Before the episode in the jail cell, Grace had only dreamed of relinquishing control to a man. Not only during sex, but in any situation. That was possibly why none of the relationships she had with men ever survived her brash ways. But, with Drake it was completely different. There was something about him, something that brought out the buried submissive side of her. In the plainest words she could think of to explain it, was that he was the first man she felt she could trust.

  Right now, she wanted him to enforce that control, that pure maleness that he exuded from his every pore. Grace had never embraced this sexual side of herself and despite everything that was happening, she wanted to experience every second of it that she could.

  As if reading her very thoughts, Drake captured her lips with his. Heat flared inside her, singeing her very soul with his passionate kiss. Drake took her breath, along with any lingering resistance.

  “You are mine,” Drake said, his voice a low growl when he pulled away.

  “Yes,” she said. And she was his. Her body ached for him. Her heart swelled with the knowledge that she had finally found the person who she would love for the rest of her life.

  Drake snaked his hands around to the nape of her neck and used his fingers as combs, raising her hair above the nape of her neck. He eyed the evidence of the vampire’s fangs. Grace caught her lip between her teeth when she saw the flash of menace in Drake’s eyes. Then he caught her gaze.

  “You have too many clothes on, Grace.” He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips. “Lose the clothes,” he said.

  “Do we have time for this?” she asked.

  “We’ve got some time,” he said. He stood, pulling her up with him. “Now, do as you’re told—lose the clothes.”

  Grace felt his command reverberate through her as she took a step back and began unbuttoning her shirt. Already she was damp with lust and couldn’t wait until his hands touched her naked flesh. Commanding and dangerous, Drake was the forbidden lover she had always longed for. His eyes raked her skin as he watched her remove her clothes. She dropped them where she stood and waited for him to speak his next demand.

  Drake sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he said.

  Grace moved to sit beside him. He reached out and caught her wrist. “Not yet,” he said, moving her to stand in front of him.

  Grace clenched her hands, her fingers itching to touch him as she stood before him. He took her by the hips and drew her closer. His hands were warm against her flesh, sparking a heat down lower still. Drake leaned forward and blew a steamy breath across her breasts. Grace trembled inside, biting back a whimper as her nipples tightened to hard, little pebbles.

  “You like it when I tell you what I want you to do, don’t you?” he asked, moving one hand to stroke her ass.

  “Mm hmm,” she said, looking down into those intoxicating whiskey eyes.

  “I’m not being too forceful, am I?”

  Grace felt his fingers delve into the cleft between her cheeks. She gasped, a sudden rush of slick wetness between her legs. “No,” she breathed.

  “You’ll let me know if I am, won’t you?” he asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

  Grace nodded. His long fingers were doing some very interesting things to her behind, making it hard to concentrate on forming any kind of answer.

  “Good,” he said. Suddenly, he released his hold on her and fell back on the bed, leaving his feet on the floor. He raised his hands, wriggling his fingers, beckoning. “Crawl up here. Above me.”

  Grace frowned. “I don’t think I’ll fit.”

  Drake looked behind his head. “You may be right.” He kicked his boots off and shifted so that he was lying length-wise on the bed. He was so tall that his feet were planted against the foot rail, leaving only inches between the top of his head and the headboard. “Okay. Now you’ll fit.”

  Grace placed one knee on the bed and before she knew it, Drake grabbed her and swung her up and over. Bracing her palms, one on each side of his head, she now straddled him. “Oh yeah,” he said, his eyes appraising the fullness of her breasts that were now inches above his chest. “Move up a bit,” he said. Grace scooted up a little further. It was a precarious position to hold herself above him now that her weight was shifted forward. Her arms began to tremble.

  “Hold on to the headboard, babe,” Drake instructed.

  Grace again shifted, grasping the top rail of the iron headboard.

  “Are you ready to get serious?” he asked. He trailed his warm, wet tongue along the underside of one breast.

  Grace shuddered and arched her back. “Yes.”

  “Move only when I ask you to. Otherwise, just stay still and enjoy.” Drake began by swiping his tongue over first one nipple, then the other while his hands roamed over her back, working his way down her body in an erotic massage. By the time he captured one peaked nipple in his mouth and began to suckle it, her whole body tingled from his touch. His mouth did delicious things to her, sending shimmering tendrils from her tongue to her toes but when his hands dipped into the creamy wetness between her legs, Grace gripped the headboard and let out a soft moan.

  Even in the chill of the mine, Grace grew increasingly hotter as the tingling became a burning inside her. Her palms began to sweat, her grip on the headboard threatened to fail. Just when she thought she was about to burst int
o flames, Drake moved down and slid her up at the same time. At the first touch of his tongue on her sensitive clit, thunder roared through her. “Oh … God … Drake.” She struggled to hold herself above him as he licked up every drop of her nectar. Grace’s arms trembled, her thigh muscles twitched. Still, he wouldn’t stop but kept drinking from her as if dying of thirst. Before she could catch her breath, another orgasm raced through her, spinning her out of control.

  When the rush subsided, Drake moved her to the side and slid off the bed.

  Breathless, Grace watched as he stripped off his clothes.

  If she had any breath left, the sight of him would have taken it.

  Drake came back to the bed and lay down beside her. He kissed her deeply, their tongues warring with each other. Grace felt like a pure sexual being when he was near. He only had to give her a look, or the barest touch, and she was seduced.

  Drake rolled onto his back. He tugged a strand of her hair. “Back in position, Babe.”

  “On top?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Grace raised herself up and swung one leg over. She grasped the headboard again. Drake took her by the hips and guided her over him.

  Already she was dripping again, this time in anticipation of his thick cock filling her.

  Drake eased her down onto his hot shaft, inch by inch, until she sat directly on him, impaled. Grace sighed, the girth of him stretching her, the head of his cock pressing deeply against her cervix. Her pussy muscles clenched. She wanted to move, to stroke him with her slickness.

  Drake cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples. “Okay, Grace … this time, you fuck me,” he said, his voice deep and thick.

  Grace began to move, raising her hips until half of him was left inside, then lowering herself back down, squeezing as she did.

  “Faster,” Drake demanded.

  Grace obliged. She rocked forward, then back, up and down, grinding her hips against him.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough. He grasped her hips again, pulling her down on every stroke. “Sit up, Grace. Sit up so I can watch you.”

  Grace let go of the headboard and rested her hands on his chest as she straightened. She locked eyes with him. His gaze was sultry, searing her with heat. Sitting this way made it hard for her to raise herself.

 

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