by Rhea, Lani
After about five minutes into the drive, Darin’s head dropped to her shoulder. A few times, she tried to ease from beneath his casual slump. Every time she twitched away, his head popped up like a jack in the box. She felt sorry for his exhausted state and let him rest next to her. It would be another hour before they were at her home.
She tried to prioritize her next moves. First and foremost, she had Darin to deal with. He would need some care, explanations and re-orientation to the world he believed he lived in. Hell, they both would have to readjust to their ways of thinking of how things worked since his introduction to the preternatural world. Who could be trusted and where to go from there were the real questions.
But for Darin, it was worse. There was no way she could let him return to his life—not with V on the prowl. She was sure the vamp would eventually tire of the game and look for someone else but in the meantime, he would have to stay with her. Damn it.
As if he heard her thoughts, he stirred, but his head didn’t move from her shoulder. She startled when his voice broke the silence. “Why were we kept locked up?”
She shot a glance to the rearview mirror. Their driver gave her a return stare. “Shh.” She pressed her index finger to his lips. “I’ll tell you later. Not now. Inquiring minds and all.”
Darin nodded. “At least tell me your name.”
“Kris Knight.”
He was silent for the rest of the ride. Well, silent except for the occasional snore. Not too long after, they arrived at her gate. With a smooth glide, the limo stopped. She and Darin exited with more speed and less grace than they entered. Obviously, he was as eager as she for safe haven.
At the approaching high beams Kris squinted down Highway 23. They’d been followed as Ryant promised. Even as she understood the need, she didn’t like vampires being so close to her and Darin.
After she strode to the vine-covered lock pad outside her gate and punched in the security code, the gate swung open on slow, mechanical pulleys. She gestured with her head for Darin to take the lead.
He hesitated.
She sighed, took his arm once more and shuffled them through together. “Darin, this is my home. It’s safe. No vamps.”
Once they were through, the gate closed behind them with a ringing clang. The second vehicle approached then slid to a smooth stop in front of her closed gate. When the engine cut off, silence spread through their surroundings. Only crickets chirped over the sound of her and Darin’s feet as they crunched through the front walk gravel. She guessed the men would stay parked until sunup. Who Ryant would send for the daylight hours, she had no idea. Maybe he wouldn’t. Soulscapes attack at night.
As they drew closer to the house, through hanging moss, she saw her car and groaned. “Damn it, I forgot about the blasted thing,” she murmured.
She hoped the repairs wouldn’t cost more than what she owed on the vehicle. Her eyes widened as she neared. Holy hell. The busted windshield had been repaired and every dent was gone. Her baby had a new paint job. Just for a moment, she paused then continued to her car, all the while clenching her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping to the ground. Ryant. It had to have been Ryant who had her car repaired. Well, tally and a half for him for making her life somewhat easier. It was the least he could do.
Kris rounded her car one last time before she bent to take out her house key from the potted plant next to the front door. Once inside her cozy home, she felt safe at last. Home never felt so good. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the cinnamon apple swirling throughout the air then toed off her tennis shoes in the foyer.
Darin walked past her.
She stared at him as he halted in the center of the living room. With casual ease that must have been as fake as faux fur, he perused her small amount of collectables and taste in art. His handsome features were calm. Despite his response before, now he appeared to be dealing quite well with recent events. Too well, perhaps.
“You can take a seat over there.” She indicated the brown leather sofa.
As he held his wrists, he looked at it and shuffled over to take a seat near one of the ends. Kris headed toward the kitchen. She opened the medicine cabinet and extracted the first aid kit. After she closed the cabinet, she looked at her guest. Even on her comfortable couch, he appeared uncomfortable when he glanced to each side, wiggling backward into the plush pillows. An uncertain look ran across his face while he rose and withdrew a pillow. He tossed it to the other end of the couch.
Not wanting to startle him, with cautious steps, she approached him. “I’ve got medicine to clean the wounds.” She showed him the case. “I can help or leave this for you.”
A moment passed before he answered. “You can help.”
She watched as he flexed his wrists, moving them in circular motions. Darin rubbed at a bloody spot near the bone and base of his thumb and winced.
Ryant’s whole crew needed a sharp stake to their asses for what they’d put this man through. She was grateful she’d been able to stop them from turning Darin. Why it had been so important to her was something she didn’t have the time or inclination to examine at the moment.
“I’m not scared of you.”
A foot before him, she stopped. “Huh? Why would you be?”
“I saw.” He continued to rub the sore spot. After clearing his throat, he said, “If you had wanted to hurt me, you wouldn’t have saved me.”
Ah, he’d seen. Well, she didn’t know what to say to that. At least, his basic logic sounded perfectly reasonable.
“What are you?”
How could she put this plainly without sending him from the house screaming? “I have a heredity issue. I call it a curse.”
Darin raised a brow. “What kind of curse?”
“Do you, by some chance, believe fairy tales are real?”
He shrugged. “I have an open mind.”
She fidgeted, tapping a finger on the box in her hand. “I was born a werewolf.”
As he peered at her with questions zipping through his eyes, he didn’t look scared, only confused. “I thought you were some super-hot ninja chick coming to the rescue.”
She laughed. She found the response too comical not to.
“What’s so funny?” At least, he laughed with her.
It took her a few seconds to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d run to my front door screaming in horror when I told you what I was.”
He smiled. “Well, I was captured by vampires.”
She bent to administer to his wounds. As she dabbed at the worse ones to start, she said, “I’m sure you have people worried about you and would like to return to them, but I want you to stay with me for a while.”
“Actually, I don’t, other than friends and we’ve been known to lose contact for a few weeks when we’re really busy. I’ll have to call into work.”
She stopped doctoring to look up. “Why don’t you have family?” She realized in an instant, she had no room to pry into his personal life. “I’m sorry. That was horrible manners.”
He chuckled. “You know, if I had ever imagined that vampires and werewolves were real, I promise you the last thing I would have considered about them was the condition of their manners.” A smidge of sparkle left his eyes. “I lost my parents in a car accident when I was eight. I don’t have siblings.”
Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. She could relate in many ways. Kris sighed.
“I was in the wreck too,” he continued. “I received multiple blood transfusions before the doctors could stop the internal bleeding.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m just a sales rep who was preparing to sign papers to join the military the night they abducted me. So, you see, I’m good.”
Great. She housed a man who might have a recruiter after him and she couldn’t release him. She hated to do this to him. Only a special person would agree to go halfway around the world to defend, possibly die for, a country or its people solely to honor their oath
to their government.
He met her gaze. “It’s the woman, isn’t it? You think she’ll come after me?”
“I do. That’s why I think you should stay close to me. I can protect you.”
He nodded, his expression suggesting he had lots of thoughts running through his mind.
To get him refocused, she decided to turn the subject to more pressing matters. “The vampire I spoke with is the leader over the Louisiana district. He’s creating soldiers to fight in the war between the vampires and Soulscapes.”
“Soulscapes?”
“It’s all rather complicated. You know now there are vampires. You know there are werewolves. There are several different types under each category, but we won’t get into that right now.” She watched Darin’s face for signs of confusion or panic. He nodded and encouraged her to keep going.
“There are other types of preternaturals as well,” she continued.
“Peter what?”
Kris smiled. “Pre-ter-naturals. That is how we refer to ourselves collectively. There’s a large preternatural community in the shadows of your human world. Some of our types blend in and contribute to your human way of life. Witches, for one, some werewolves like me and a few vampires choose a human-style existence. Others could never fit in and would never choose to. Shades, the fae, the djinn and centaurs all isolate themselves from human reality.”
Darin’s eyebrows lifted. “By fae, do you mean fairies? Miniature winged, butterfly people who grant wishes?”
“Hardly, I have yet to meet the fairy described in human children’s stories.” She grinned. “Of course, the fae are so accomplished with magic and glamour a person might never know what they truly look like.”
“Okay, so I wouldn’t know a fairy if it bit me. Got’cha.”
“Anyway, we have a collective group of representation that makes the rules for us. It’s a governing body that tries to balance the needs of preternaturals against our existence being made public knowledge. How we exist, on the fringe of light and in the shadows, we call the Darkworld.
“Soulscapes are demons. You may also call them soul snatchers. Centuries ago, when they didn’t like how things worked in the Darkworld, they tried to take over only to be banished. Many lives were lost, of all the preternaturals. Including my parents.”
With one finger held up, Darin asked, “Centuries? How old are you?”
And she’d thought he’d be more interested in the demons. “I’m two-hundred and thirteen. I am of royal blood and the blooded lines live hundreds of years.”
Darin didn’t move, blink or breathe then, “Wow.” He paused. “But you look like you’re under thirty.” He smoothed fingertips across her cheekbone. She kept herself from flinching by pure willpower. “So soft, so real. I never would have guessed it.”
“Now you know.”
“Thank you.”
She nodded then swabbed his hand with antiseptic. When the liquid covered the open area, Darin hissed. With a slight smile she made sure he didn’t see, she wrapped the gauze, tore strips and tied a knot on the top of his hand to keep infection from setting in the wound.
When done, he inspected the makeshift bandage. “You did a good job with this.”
“I once was in the army myself. I’ve had practice.”
His gaze lifted and captured hers. Sincerity and appreciation rested in his eyes.
Kris stood and pointed to a closet door. “There are blankets in there. The couch is pretty comfortable.”
Many nights she’d slept on the oversized thing after odd hours at the office. Speaking of sleeping, she needed to wake early and get to work. Missed calls to return and current cases she needed to farm out; she had a lot to do. And she needed to make contact with Josh as soon as possible.
“Thanks again for saving me and all. I promise to pay you back for your troubles.”
“No need. Stay alive. Stay near me ’til it’s done. That will be thanks enough.” Kris took a few steps toward her bedroom door. “I’ve got to get up early. Next to the closet is the bathroom to clean the mess off you. There’s food in the fridge. Good night, Darin.”
“Good night, Kris.”
After she entered her bedroom, she locked the door. There might be an initial connection, a budding trust between her and Darin, but she didn’t want any mixed messages. A secured door between them said there were boundaries. Heavy, solid boundaries.
She shuffled to the window and peered outside. From her viewpoint, she had a good view of the car that had shadowed them home. The plain, four-door blue sedan parked outside the circle of light from the street lamp continued to prove Ryant kept his word.
On the other side of the fence, there he stood, her knight in crisp Armani, hands resting in his pockets. Peachy.
15
Through the split of the blinds, Ryant watched Kris. In the mix of darkness and distance, their gazes locked. Earlier in the day, those eyes of hers blazed with desire. On his tongue, the sweet, juicy creaminess of her tasted like ripe plums. The release of her essence still lingered on his face, and he was proud to have eased her need. He smiled, remembering the feel of her inner muscles contracting around his fingers. Just then his cock stirred at the thought of sliding inside her slick, hot center.
With a final glare he could almost feel, she dropped the curtains and turned away. A few seconds later, her bedroom light switched off.
For two hours, he agonized over whether he should enter her house. His chin lifted. Permission or not, he would enter and would take his chances with her anger. He glided across the front lawn and driveway and approached her front door which opened with no sound, just a smooth swing on quiet hinges. Ryant padded over the living room floor, toward the human lying asleep on the couch.
He stood over Darin. The human was in her house, on her couch when it should be him, Ryant. His hands balled into fists and his teeth clenched. The human’s chest rose and fell. There was something about the human he didn’t like. A sense about him. He couldn’t say exactly but something was off. The conversation he’d overheard between the human and Kris told him she wouldn’t let anything happen to the man. With her, the human had an emotional connection already sealed between them. That was a problem. Kris was his.
Ryant twisted the locked doorknob to her room. He smiled. As if a barred door would keep him out. He waved a hand over the handle. The lock released with a slight click. After he pushed the door inward, he moved toward her. The blue moonlight angled over her face, softening the hard planes and sharp lines.
Halting at her bedside, he stood over her. His fingers itched to stroke her face but he stopped before he did. His woman slept like a baby, her hands clutched in a prayer position and tucked under her head. He didn’t want to wake her. Instead, he held his palm a half inch over her body and traced the outline of her form. Heat curled upward, caressing his palm.
Reading her before had sometimes complicated things. Before the first mark her stubbornness shut him out and her block had frightened him. Now this new bond they shared would shed light on her inner thoughts. He knew the soul demons and the prophecy of two species joining terrified her. The prophecy of them, but he also knew if he didn’t help, her life would be in grave danger. And the prophecy would never come true to save the Darkworld.
Relieved to have helped with the healing of her mangled wounds, he feared she’d put an even greater distance between them—no inner link to her soul, like what they once had before her parents were murdered.
He knelt by the bed, his face inches from hers. She frowned and whimpered. What dream traveled through her beautiful mind? It took every bit of his strength not to climb in and lay beside her. The yearning to comfort her left him aching.
Standing, he walked to the chair in the corner by the window. He sat, propping his feet on the windowsill. Part of his focus kept Kris in view while the other kept a watch outside.
He stayed throughout the night, until the sun’s bright light lightened the sky but didn’t touch
the horizon. Before he left, he placed her weapon on the dresser then took his leave from her home. He walked the drive, back to his car, two hours before the sun rose.
On the ride home, a thought kept churning his mind. Would she ever view him the same since he unleashed his power by accident and marked her?
Back in the safety of the coven, he went straight to his bedroom. The sun was on the edge of rising, its affect shuddering deep within his bones. The earth trembled when the first streaks graced the lands of Louisiana.
A few moments passed, and the shaking ceased. He strolled to the bookshelf in the far corner. Pressing a few books inward opened the hidden space. Inside, the legacy book to her past emerged. In due time, the secret held within would be shown to her. He only wished he could read the inscriptions, but the writings were foreign to him. Despite the fact he could take the book to the elders, he wanted to give it to Kris first. Maybe she would be able to translate the foreign writings.
In this book, her legacy, her father had recorded vital information—past secrets Ryant knew might change her life forever and possibly his.
16
The next morning, the sun’s rays burst through the shades. Never happier to see the golden glow, Kris hurried out of bed. The scent of bacon and eggs swirled in the air. Her mouth watered at the temptation, and her stomach groaned with the delectable smell. The compulsion to eat more protein was stronger than ever before. Odd. She had no clue as to why—she just knew she had to eat meat and bacon certainly qualified.
After she showered and dressed in jeans and a fitted white tee, she tied the outfit together with her Nikes. With a busy day ahead of her, she hurried to the dresser to locate a hair clip. And there lay her .40 caliber. Her stomach tightened as prickles shot over her skin. Damn it. Ryant had slipped into her house. Not much she could do about it right now.
She flung on the holster and slipped the gun into its rightful place. Despite his intrusion, it was wonderful to have the weapon back. It gave her some sense of security.