by Jackie Ivie
“What? Who designs such a thing? Sadists?”
Cassandra put her hand atop his and moved his fingers to the hidden zipper at her side, right at her waist. And heard the sound of metal teeth releasing as the material opened. “Me. I designed it.”
“Cute. You designed the skirt, too?”
“I design…all my clothing.”
Her words stuttered. The jade colored piece fell to the floor, making a thudding sound beyond what material should cause. Her senses were heightened more than ever. That came from the taste of him. The scent. Touch.
“Really? You should have your own label—never mind. I see you do. CB Designs. You own your own business?”
“Yes.”
“In London?”
“I live below my shop.”
“Don’t you mean…above?”
“No. That’s part of what I need to tell you.”
“Oh…Baby. You’re beautiful. Exquisite. Everywhere.”
He lost his voice more than once, the words shaky-sounding. Then his body joined in. And all because he’d slid his fingers down the sides of her bodice, cupped her breasts, and lifted them free of material. Reverently. As if she might break. And then he moved his hands to her waist and just held her. All of it stabbing right through to where she didn’t think she had a heart anymore.
“This mate thing you spoke about last night. I think I know what you mean.”
He lifted his gaze and met hers. Cassandra had never seen anything as beautiful as the sheen atop his eyes. She knew her heart was dead. It had been for decades now. There wasn’t any way it could feel a swoop of movement. Yet that’s what happened. Because of the emotion behind his words and on his face.
“Jacob, you must listen to me. Before it’s too late and we go too far.”
“I think that happened last night, Love. And I’m willing to do a repeat here. I’d like to best my stroke. My repetitions. And maybe my timing. You on?”
“But—”
“Will you marry me?”
Her mouth was still open to finish telling him, and the rest of the words became a garbled mess. “What?”
“Marry. Me. As in bridal veil. Ceremony. Groom. Supposedly I’m a hell of a catch. I’m on a few lists of top 50 bachelors, anyway. You game?”
“Oh…Jacob.”
She was going to cry. Impossible. Incredible. Her? Cassandra Braun? She’d never cried. Even before. Finding her mate had given her back sensations and passions and emotions she’d thought dead and gone forever. She blinked rapidly at his image.
“I mean, I didn’t exactly plan this. It’s rather spur of the moment…uh. It’s crazy. I know. But I can’t shake the feeling that if I don’t lock you down somehow, you’re going to up and disappear on me again in the morning. And I just couldn’t take it. Say you’ll marry me. Stay with me. Please?”
“Jacob.” She choked on his name.
“Am I failing? Crap. I’ve never done this. And I know it’s sudden. It’s more than sudden. It’s insane. I’m doing it wrong, too. I should be on my knees. Begging. I don’t exactly have an engagement ring, either. And the one I’m going to design will take some time to craft. You might have a hard time lifting your hand. You’re pretty small. Probably a five. Maybe a five and a half. Yes?”
“Five and a half?”
“Ring size. You’re not going to cry, are you? That’s good, right? I should’ve waited. Done this with caviar and champagne. Showered. Shaved. Put on a tux. I have closets full of them. Hell, I should have hired a full orchestra. And I—wait! I know.”
He started prying at the little finger of his left hand.
“I’ve got a signet ring. From when I was a kid. It might fit. Here. Give me your left hand.”
“Jacob.”
“Please don’t say you’re turning me down.”
“I have something I have to tell you first.”
“Do you love me?”
Cassandra’s eyes went wide. He stepped away from her, folded his arms, and started pacing, patting his sides as he went. “I know. I’m rather manic, but I swear, I’ve never felt like this. I mean…I’m head over heels here. I want to keep you at my side day and night. You got it?”
“But—?”
“You do love me? Yes?”
Cassandra smiled. “You’re my mate, Jacob. It’s not negotiable. It’s not changeable. It’s not something either of us can fight.”
“And that means you love me? Yes?”
“Jacob, you have to listen to me. I’m not like…other women.”
“No lie. Who wants them? I want you. Cassandra Braun. I don’t want you to leave me at dawn. I want you here. With me. Always. What’s it going to take to get a yes out of you, Babe?”
“Oh, Ja…cob.”
“You stumbled on my name. That’s promising. Is any of this a yes? You do love me? Yes?”
She nodded.
He blew a heavy sigh, cooling her from an arms-length away. “That’s one hurdle over. And you’ll marry me? Make me the happiest man in the world?”
“It’s…not that simple.”
“Of course it is. We go file papers. Find a magistrate. Hell. I’ll order one in. I’ve got enough witnesses here already. And I can’t wait to show you off to the press.”
“Show…me off?”
“On my arm. I’ve been press shy for years. Not anymore. I think the world needs to see my wife. I might call the news channel. They’re always trying to get a story.”
“You mean…a photograph?”
“Photo. Digital. News feed. Whatever it takes.”
“I can’t get photographed, Jacob. That’s one of the things—.”
“You’re publicity shy? Fair enough. That’s why I have Malcolm. We’ll send him out with a babe on his arm, while we’re honeymooning in Tahiti. Or Bora Bora. Or Nassau. What?”
“You go too fast.”
“You said yes. I heard it. Yes? You did. Right?”
In reply Cassandra held out her left hand. The ring was too large for every finger save her middle one. And he kissed it after he slid it on.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She was ready early, moving like a shadow. Silently. Stealthily. Cassandra could’ve stayed a few minutes longer in his arms. The hangar where her plane sat wasn’t but twenty minutes away if she moved at slow speed. If she rushed, she’d be there in five. She was still early. She’d wanted the extra time. Needed it. She planned to memorize every facet of him…and what they shared. She hadn’t known love felt like this.
She was so lucky! How was it possible? Some of her compatriots waited centuries. Millennia. Akron was a prime example. He’d had years of existence. None of them graced with a mate. And yet, without a hint of notice, Cassandra got hers. It was pure pleasure just to look at him. And not just at his handsomeness. Although that was striking. It was especially noticeable as he slept, the slight touch of recessed lighting casting shadows that emphasized just how handsome. Virile. Masculine.
She didn’t touch him. She didn’t dare. Shifting from his arms had almost wakened him. He seemed to know she was going to leave – but how could she stay? The sun was going to be up in less than an hour.
She’d just received the ability to feel again, and while it was the most wondrous thing imaginable, it had a dark side. It carried fear. Anxiety. Worry. They just kept increasing. That’s why she hadn’t told him. She was afraid of his reaction. Terrified of it. Cassandra Braun. Paid assassin. Vampire. One of the undead. Terrified.
She should have said something the moment he asked her to marry him. Definitely before he took the last film of clothing from her body. And well before the second time, when he’d spent so much time worshipping every inch of her body that she’d been squirming in need and torment that only he could ease.
She hadn’t said any of it. The sort of passion they shared wielded an intensity that demanded satiation. And then there was the slow, perfect time afterwards. It had been so sweet. So loving. So…amazing. Jacob made certain
she knew exactly what intimacy and love meant to him. There was emotion behind every caress. Every hug. Every word.
He’d been talkative. He’d regaled her for hours – sometimes animatedly, sometimes in a husky soft tone, and lastly in a hoarse whisper – about all the places he was going to show her. All the experiences he couldn’t wait to share with her. The children he planned on having that he was already naming. He wanted two. One of each. But if she gave him only daughters, he’d be the happiest man alive. Sons would gain the same emotion. All he wanted was her. Each word added to the worry. Her breast grew heavy with fear, thick with anxiety, and then it filled with dread.
She had to leave. Soon. She was wasting time. She knew he wouldn’t understand. He’d think she deserted him again. Cassandra wrapped her arms about her to hold in the hollow feeling. She already felt lost. Alone. Empty. But she’d be back. Tonight. She’d tell him tonight. The moment the sun set and she rose—
A huge blast of noise assailed the space, coming in a high pitched screech of sound that hurt her eardrums. Jake jerked up instantly, his eyes shot open, his gaze pinning her in place. Her expression probably mirrored his.
“Cassie!”
A moment later, he moved, shoving her behind him. There were slivers of wood and projectiles flying at her. From everywhere. Jacob couldn’t protect her. They were too accurate. A spike of mesh shot out of the cavernous space, swirling open as it flew, drenched with liquid that burned where it touched flesh. It slammed her against the back wall, pinned into immobility, despite how she struggled. Wrenched. Focused. Worked. The more she moved, the worse the netting ate into skin. The hat brim smashed against her face saved it from the acidic effects, but nothing stopped the fire that ate into her bare arms, upper thighs, and bosom. She bit her lip to still the cries, and then got more. Through the lace of her veil and the close weave of net she saw Jacob fall. He landed hard, rolled, and was back on his feet, a thin spike of wood in his shoulder, leeching blood down his arm. Stark naked. And yet still menacing. A moment later and he’d reached her and started yanking at the ropes.
“Ouch! Shit, Baby! What the hell? I can’t—! Damn! I need…a knife!”
His fingers were getting burned. He’d had too much of her fluid. Every time he touched the ropes he jerked back in agony. From behind him she watched the apartment alcove fill with hunters. Thirty. No. More. She quit counting. They all carried crossbows. All aimed directly at her. And then a man stepped to the front, pulling night vision goggles down. He was well formed. As fit as her mate. Dark haired. He kept it closely cropped. Looked near forty. Vaguely familiar.
“Stop that, Mister Walsh, or we’ll have to tie you.”
“Get this off her! Now!”
“That isn’t a her, Mister Walsh. May I call you Jacob? That’s an it. And the answer to your demand is no. Reggie. Hank. Crux him.”
Two of them approached, carrying a large crucifix that took all their effort to tote. Cassie hissed and narrowed her eyes, and still saw them slam the cross to Jake’s bare torso before the burn cancelled her vision. She slammed her eyes shut, but heard Jake’s howl of pain even as it covered hers.
“Looks like we’re just in time. Sit down, Jacob. Or I’ll force it.”
Something hit the floor. There was a thud. A cry. A bit of rustling noise. And then silence.
“Why do they always want it the hard way? Please remember, Jacob, you were warned.”
“Screw you.”
“Very well. You asked for it.”
Cassandra slit her eyes open, despite heat that seared both eyes. They’d placed the cross in front of her. On its own stand. It was too close. It radiated heat. Waves of it. And it sucked at her, draining her energy. It took an effort of will and some pain to move her eyes beyond it and find Jacob. They’d strapped him to a chair; his feet yanked beneath the seat with how they’d fastened his ankles to his wrists behind him. He was breathing hard, and still raging at them.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Hunters.”
“No shit. I got that part from the weapons and camouflage outfits. What the hell do you want?”
“In time, Jacob. Everything comes to the man who waits, you know.”
Jacob strained against his bonds for a few moments while everyone watched. And then he stopped, heaving for breath. “Damn you! Where’s my security? If you hurt them, I swear I’ll see every one of you persecuted to the fullest extent of the—”
“Calm down. If by security, you mean the three fellows who attempted to stop us, well…let’s just say, the big guy is not going to wake up for some time yet. The other two are pretty much in the same position you are. Tied to their chairs. In situ. Only they have clothing on. It’s probably warmer.”
“Are you insane?”
“No. But you’re probably going to think I am before we finish.”
“No thinking needed, asshole.”
“You know, Jacob…can I call you Jake? This is going to be a lot easier if you cooperate and act nice. In a bit it’ll be dawn, and everything will be over. This will all be a really strange dream. You’ll see.”
“What happens at dawn?”
“We’ll untie you. And I’ll even give you some pants.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“Her. Or rather, it.”
“Cassandra? Why? If it’s money you want—”
“Money? Ah. She didn’t tell you her secret. This is rich. Truly.”
“Her…secret?”
Cassandra didn’t have a live heart but whatever was in her breast plummeted to the pit of her belly, anyway. It was more painful than every one of the wires and the crucifix combined.
“Your security detail was already onto it. They’d have been in here with the information before long. That’s how we found her, actually. An IP address doing an internet search. Cassandra Braun. From London. They’ve been at it all night. Gained tons of information. I really love technology, don’t you?”
The leader was walking toward her as he spoke. Jake was straining against his ropes again, turning his skin red. Her eyes burned too much to keep looking. She shut them and hoped the skim of moisture in them would be enough to salve them.
“Ah. There you are. Miss Cassandra Braun. Lovely specimen. Truly…beautiful. I didn’t know that. And then somebody uploaded a drawing of you during their search. Hmm. The artist didn’t do you justice.”
“You touch her, and I’ll kill you!”
Jake snarled it. Despite how it pained, Cassandra opened her eyes. Found him. He’d toppled the chair. One of the fellows hit him with something that looked like a mallet. Jake cried out. He took another hit. Then another.
“Stop. Please?” Cassandra asked.
She shouldn’t have said anything. The leader’s eyes narrowed and then he gave her a wicked-looking smile.
“Oh. This is classic. And so sweet. He’s your mate? Is that what this is about?”
“Please?” she continued, a hint of tears coating the word.
“Gentlemen. Stop.” He turned his back on her and spoke to his men. “Jake isn’t the issue here. We mustn’t be uncivilized. Just put him back upright, and toss some Holy Water on him if he misbehaves again. How much time do we have?”
“Twenty-four minutes.”
“Good.” He turned back to her.
He was about Jake’s height. She’d been wrong on his physique. He wasn’t near as fit as Jacob. Nor as handsome. He really did look familiar. She couldn’t quite decipher why. The Holy Water they’d dipped the net in must be drying. The webbing no longer burned. And if she could just get that cross toppled…
“There’s not much information available on you, Miss Braun. That’s not unusual, but your file is almost nonexistent. You’re very difficult to find. It’s still Miss, isn’t it? You didn’t wed anyone, did you? Yet?”
“No.”
“Good. I really hate making widowers. You know how many Cassandra Brauns are in the record books? Tons. Dozens in England a
lone. There’s one particular one…with a birthday of 1841. We found that Cassandra Braun very interesting. Born and raised in a parish orphanage. No parents listed. That’s it. There’s nothing else. No death record. Nothing. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d have to say 1862, or thereabouts. You don’t look a day past twenty-one. How am I doing?”
She didn’t answer.
“About all we managed to dredge up on Miss Braun was a deathbed confession. Want to hear it?”
Oh no. No. She started trembling. The webbing hid it.
“According to sources - and if anyone digs deep enough, they’ll find it, too – there’s a record taken from a certain Viscount Thornby. He passed to his higher rewards in 1911. I forget the date. Doesn’t really matter. He gave the most interesting deathbed confession. According to his version of events, back when he was a lad of eighteen, he came home on vacation from Eton to find the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the nursery of his home. She was working as a governess. Had dark, wine-shaded hair, intensely blue eyes. Like I said. She was beautiful. Ring a bell?”
“What the hell is he talking about, Cassie?” Jacob burst out.
“She knows. I can see it in her eyes. When she looks at me. Time, someone?”
“Eighteen minutes.”
The man smiled. “According to Viscount Thornby, he accosted this paragon of beauty late one night, after imbibing a few too many drinks with the friends, and in the resultant struggle, Miss Braun fell. Hit her head on the hearth. Expired. Ahem.” He turned his back on her and started walking about, getting louder with his story. “The viscount sent for his friends. They panicked. Gathered Miss Braun in the bedding and hauled her down to Highgate. That’s a cemetery, Jake. Once there, they found a pine box. Just a plain affair, that box. And then they found some tools and dug a grave. They selected an unused place, not opened yet…near a high fence that shielded their perfidy. Being young men with little in physical pursuits, and suffering from a lot of brandy, they didn’t dig the grave very deep. Barely two feet. If that. And then…when they had a spot ready—”
“Stop!”
Cassie was surprised when the word left her throat. He ignored her.