“Your Highness?”
Taking in one gasping breath after another, desperately trying to calm herself, she forced the memories back into the shadowy vault in her mind, locking them away.
She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs trembled. Her hands shook as she brushed her hair from her face.
The pain in her chest eased, leaving her soul battered and the vampire within her on guard, ready for another attack. The Death Curse had marked her.
“Sonya?” Falcon called again.
She stumbled to the dual vanity and turned the water on. Unable to speak, she hoped the running water would make Falcon think she was all right.
“I’m heading out.”
His voice deep, even, and smooth, a sweet balm to her raw emotions and tattered soul. Warmth spread over her, banishing the chill that lingered in her heart from the Death Curse.
“I left a shirt and a pair of shorts out for you.”
She could hear him shifting on his feet on the other side of the door. Sonya gripped the smooth ledge of the counter, her nails extending into claws, anchoring herself in place. She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to throw open the door and fling herself into his arms. She craved his touch and the comfort only he could provide. He made her feel protected and cherished. Falcon was the only man who saw her as a woman. Her past lovers had never looked past her crown, they had always wanted something from her. Power, position, riches, titles, anything other than her and because of this, she hadn’t taken a lover in so long. But Falcon, he would hold her, love her physically and emotionally. He would make a life with her. He truly was the best man she had ever known, honorable to fault.
Shaking her head, she dispelled the foolish idea of them as a couple or her turning to him for comfort.
“There are a few hours left until sunrise. I’m–uh–I’m going to see if I can find a place where you can feed. London isn’t very vamp friendly. No blood banks will be willing to sell. Not to mention, the hunters will be watching them all.”
Sonya tried to swallow, her throat was still tight and her mouth was dry. “Okay,” she managed to say, her voice cracking.
Falcon was silent for a moment. Did he hear the loneliness that laced that one word or could he sense the despair that had gripped her seconds ago?
He placed his hand on the doorknob. She could hear his fingers brush along the smooth finish and her pulse fluttered, her body instantly flushing with excitement. She braced herself for his entrance. Seconds ticked by, anxious tension snapped in the air.
His hand fell away and she heard him take a step back. Her claws bit even deeper into the counter as her body jerked forward of its own accord, seeking him. Sonya blinked back disappointed tears.
God, she was being ridiculous. She kept a tight hold on her emotions, but the Curse had unleashed her most secret regrets, teased her with past actions she wished daily she could forget, and set free her inner most desires.
“I’ll be back late.”
“What about dawn?” she asked, worry elevated her voice.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, too confident for her liking.
She wanted to ask how he could survive the sunlight, but he had already turned from the door. She listened to him cross the room. The soft click of the door closing behind him crystallized her blood.
Alone. She was alone and at the mercy of the Curse.
Sonya splashed her face with icy water. Her breaths came as sharp painful gasps. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, the sorrow and crushing loneliness faded leaving her body and soul quacking.
She gathered her knotted hair, sweeping it up in a bun, and piled the mass atop her head. Focusing on her breathing, she used her free hand to pat water along her cheeks and across her nape.
“Get it together,” she whispered to her ghostly reflection.
The episodes were steadily worsening. The Death Curse was gunning for her and she knew the end of her mortality was quickly approaching. An odd sense of relief accompanied the knowledge that she would soon shake hands with the Grim Reaper. She would finally be with her family, god willing.
Closing her eyes, she prayed for forgiveness of her past sins, of which there were many. To see her parents and sister again would be a blessing. Though centuries had passed since their brutal deaths, she could still see their cheerful faces and hear their laughter as if they had never gone.
Sonya let her hair down and brushed away the twin tears that slipped down her cheeks.
She opened her eyes and let out a slow sigh.
Damn, I'm a mess.
Turning from the vanity, she crossed back to the shower. Steam billowed from the top of the glass enclosure, the heat beckoning her. She unlaced her boots, stepped out of her destroyed jeans and entered the shower.
Stepping under the spray, she welcomed the pleasurable sting of the hot water and the instant relief it gave to her aching muscles.
Closing her eyes, she titled her head back and surrendered to relaxation. Clearing her mind of all thought and worry, she allowed the stream to wash the dirt and blood from her skin. The water revealed numerous cuts and bruises; fortunately her shoulder had become numb after Falcon’s ministrations.
After what seemed like ages, Sonya began her bathing ritual, using the luxurious soap and shampoo provided by the hotel. Once she rinsed her hair clean, she reclined back against the wall and enjoyed the steam.
It wasn’t long before dawn when Sonya finally stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel tightly about her frame then padded to the door.
She emerged from the bathroom; a cloud of steam followed her. She crossed to the bed where Falcon had laid out one of his black shirts and a pair of gray workout shorts. Dropping the towel, she grabbed the shirt. She held it up and inhaled deeply, taking in his fresh, masculine scent. She slipped the garment over her head; the hem fell to the top of her thighs. Falcon stood six feet, three inches, but she was no petite miss. She was long and lean and at five foot ten, she towered over most women she knew. Next, she stepped into the shorts. Dressed, she used the towel to pat her hair dry.
Glancing out the wall of windows she could see the sun peeking over the horizon. She stepped over to the curtains that extended from ceiling to floor; they were thick and black, perfect for blocking the murderous rays. Unlike the elders of the vampire race, she wasn’t strong enough to walk in the sunlight. She had hoped one day she would be able to walk in the golden glow once more, but the Death curse would never allow her to live that long.
Judging by the frequency and ferocity of the attacks, she had about six more good months. After, she would descend into madness. Her mind would be taken over by guilt, while her soul withered beneath a crushing height of loneliness. She would be consumed by an unquenchable bloodlust and hunger for destruction. Next, the poison would set in; her body would waste away as her grip on reality slipped into a black void, leaving her a hollow shell. Only then would death claim her.
She shuddered. Thankfully Sonya had made Gwendolyn, her second, promise to end her immortal life before it ever got that far.
Maybe, if I get into Heaven I’ll be able to walk in the sunlight again.
She released a heavy sigh that slumped her shoulders. With a yank, she pulled the curtains closed and turned her back on the city. Again she wondered how Falcon planned to survive the sun.
Worry and exhaustion tugged at her. With the exception of being drugged for a few hours, she hadn’t slept in weeks. Staying awake while the sun reigned was not an easy feat. The younger the vampire, the more susceptible to sleep they were. However, she’d had plenty of practice. During her early years as an immortal, she rarely slept, ruthlessly denying the pull. She had been on the hunt, constantly searching for the beasts that slaughtered her family.
The world will never the know wolf shifters as you did.
Sonya flinched as the small, quiet child’s voice whispered in her thoughts.
Yes, because of her thirst for revenge, the wolf
shifter breed hadn’t stood a chance.
Sonya shook her head, refusing to drudge up those memories and give the curse another chance to attack. She had to keep it together or she and Falcon would never make it home alive.
She also needed to get some rest and heal. Even though her body begged for sleep, she headed toward the kitchen. She inspected Falcon’s arsenal, noting that he had taken his guns. The knowledge made her feel a little more comfortable about him being alone.
The sun was rising. Most hunters would retire for the day since their targets couldn’t prowl during the day.
Except the elders and apparently Falcon.
As she rounded the island, Sonya froze, her fangs burst from their sheaths, extending and sharpening to razor points. Her golden eyes instantly flashed demon black.
Blood.
Falcon had filled a glass with blood. His blood. The dim light coming from the lamps beside the bed caused the crimson liquid to sparkle. It taunted her.
In two strides, she was there; the glass was within her reach.
She licked her suddenly dry lips, accidentally slicing her tongue across her fangs.
The sweet metallic taste filled her mouth.
Her stomach clenched from hunger as the vampire within her rose, straining against its shackles.
Starving. She was starving!
Sonya wrapped trembling fingers around the glass, her extended claws gently scrapped along the elegant curves.
“So–not–fair,” she rasped.
The demon within her demanded she drink, that she savor every drop as if it were a fine Scotch, for Falcon surely was.
Her heart thundered so loudly; she wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the hotel could hear it. She fought to deaden her senses, but, lord above, the scent of Falcon’s blood was intoxicating and she was ravenous.
Would one taste satisfy her bloodlust? Or would her craving for the knight intensify? For all she knew, she could drink this and fall into madness, surrendering to her baser instincts. She could possibly attack the guests or she may lay in wait until Falcon returned and tackle him, sinking her fangs into his throat.
The thought sent shivers all the way down to the tips of her toes.
He had left his blood because she needed to heal. It wasn’t an invitation or meant to entice. He was only trying to help, to do the right think. Like always. Even now, he was out, braving the rays of the sun searching for a place she can feed safely.
But, if she accepted his offering she would be taking an enormous risk. Hunger could consume her, making her a slave to the demon that dwelled within her.
She turned to the sink. Squeezing her eyes shut, she blindly flipped the water on and poured his gift down the drain. She refused to open her eyes until the delicious scent of him disappeared.
With a peek, she shut the water off. Her entire body quaked; her fingers trembled uncontrollably, her heart raced, and her throat burned. Deprived of nourishment the demon was enraged. It screamed for her to find Falcon, to hunt him down despite the sun.
“Ridiculous.”
She was behaving like a junky, feigning for a fix.
Sonya forced herself to return to the bed, her legs weak, and her body heavy. She pulled back the sheets and crawled in. She tried to clear her mind and prepare for the death like sleep she needed to heal, but it didn’t come.
Her thoughts whirled, a restless circle.
When would Falcon return? How was he able to walk in the sunlight? She prayed he wouldn’t run into any hunters since she was unable to help him. She would burn to ash. Then her thoughts would loop around to her hunger and his blood. The tempting aroma still assaulted her sense. What would it be like to feel his strong pulse beneath her lips?
God, I hope he’s all right.
Sonya sighed as her mind made the track back around.
The sun was nearing the center of the sky by the time she fell into a dreamless sleep. Her last thought, how would she find the strength to resist her sexual attraction to him and her craving to taste him?
* * * * *
Falcon silently closed the door of the hotel room. Although, he could have slammed it shut and Sonya would continue to sleep undistributed. She was in a deep, healing sleep.
It was past noon and, admittedly, he had stayed away longer than necessary. For the past two hours, he had sat on a park bench, his mind plagued with thoughts of the slumbering Queen. He was relieved to have her back. The witches had deprived her of blood and, judging by the stillness of her heart and lungs, she hadn’t slept since her abduction. He was impressed by how she was handling the situation. Most vampires her age would be crazed by bloodlust, falling victim to their survival instincts, their demon coming to the fore. She seemed to have control of the vampire. Sonya was strong and powerful beyond her years.
Falcon set the bags he carried on the floor beside the sofa. Glancing toward the kitchen he noticed the glass that had contained his blood was empty.
His shaft began to harden at the thought of Sonya taking his blood.
Had she drank it?
He crossed to the bed. She lay on her back, making it impossible for him to inspect her wound. If she had taken his offering, the bullet wound would be gone.
Kneeling down, he brought himself eye level with the sleeping queen. Though she displayed no traditional signs of life, such as a pulse, her head was slightly tilted to the side. Though she did not breathe, her skin was softly tanned and her pink rose lips were moist. He brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it gently behind her ear, revealing the slender curve of her neck.
His lonely heart warmed and beat with pride. She was wearing his clothing. His scent cloaked her.
As it should.
He shook his head at the absurd thought.
It wasn’t as if he deserved her.
How could he have not noticed she had been injured?
He should have scented the gunpowder or her blood. Had he been so consumed with getting them to safety to notice? Or was it his sexual attraction that clouded his judgment?
Either way, there was no excuse; he should have known Sonya was wounded.
I should never have come after her, he thought.
Sonya was a queen amongst his people, but she was not his queen. His allegiance is to Hadrian Lucretius, the Chieftain of the Validus Clan. He had abandoned his king and his clan in a time of need to chase down a woman he could never and would never have.
Ashamed, he turned away.
What would his clan think of him? More importantly, what were Hadrian’s thoughts and feelings towards his brash actions? His king had only just returned and, though his condition had improved immensely, Hadrian remained on the edge of madness.
Falcon scrubbed his face with his hands as he walked back to the living area. With a heavy exhale; he collapsed back onto the sofa.
His head hung low, he rubbed his brow. Falcon prayed he hadn’t disappointed his king.
For centuries, Hadrian had been his leader, his mentor, his brother in arms, and his closest friend. Unbeknownst to all, Hadrian had found him on the brink of death and granted him immortality. On that day, Falcon had sworn his fealty to Hadrian; he would proudly trade his soul for his king. Yet, he had abandoned his post at his king’s right hand to rescue a queen of another clan.
“I’m sorry, Hadrian,” Falcon whispered to the silence.
He would never know what compelled him to turn his back on his duties.
When Gwendolyn had announced Sonya’s abduction, something inside him snapped. His only thought, his only focus and purpose was to bring her home.
Rage had exploded within him a force unlike any he had ever felt before. It turned his blood to acid and as the hours turned to days and the day into weeks, the rage corroded his honor, attacking his loyalties until all he could think of was Sonya. And he needed to call Hadrian. He had to report in, let everyone know he had located the queen and that Sonya was now in his possession.
A short laugh escaped him a
s he shook his head. Sonya Rebane, Queen of the Voidukas Clan would never be in his possession.
Chapter Five
As if struck by lightning, Sonya’s pulse spiked. Air rushed into her lungs, causing her chest to rise and fall. Her body flushed with the warmth of life as her eyes fluttered open.
She shot up, the sheets falling to her waist. Her body ridged, her senses flaring, her eyes warily scanned the hotel room. Memories of the night before tumbled through her mind. She was no longer a prisoner. She was safe and― her wild gaze fell upon the knight― she was with Falcon.
Sonya leisurely stretched, releasing the alarmed tension that had stiffened her muscles. She reached her arms over her head, pointed and the wiggled her toes.
“Welcome back to the realm of the living,” Falcon said from his perch on the couch.
He was hunched over, his shoulders about his ears as he diligently broke down and cleaned his guns, laying the pieces out on the coffee table.
Sonya slipped from the bed.
“Did you rest?” she asked as she began to comb her fingers through her hair.
“A little. I got you some stuff while I was out. We can’t have you wearing my bulky clothes until we get you home.”
Sonya blinked, speechless. He had bought her clothes?
She quickly crossed to the bags, snatched them up and returned to the bed to sift through all the goodies.
“I hope they fit,” he mumbled, his gaze remaining on his task.
She took up the first bag. A pair of dark washed skinny jeans along with an assortment of cute tops in various colors tumbled out.
“I, ah, also bought some undergarments for you.”
Sonya frowned as she picked through the remaining bags. She found no bras or panties.
Falcon cleared his throat and bent his head even lower. “I took the liberty of washing…them and hung them up to dry in the bathroom.”
Sonya felt the hot blush creep up her neck to color her cheeks. Falcon had hand washed the bra and panties he had also hand picked. She found herself loving the idea that he would know exactly what she wore beneath her clothes. She also couldn’t hold back the smile that curled her lips. She could only imagine what Falcon looked like roaming the lingerie section.
Caressed by Shadows (Rulers of Darkness Book 4) Page 5