by L. J. Red
She had imagined going herself, but despite working for vampires for over a month now, she still hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to offer her blood like that. She glanced at Neal from the corner of her eyes. He was wearing the usual dark look he had whenever he looked at her. No, there was no chance he would want to feed from her.
“I’m just going to…” She pointed up to the mezzanine where the bed was and realized with a thrill of nerves that there was only one bed in the cabin. Shit. Why didn’t she consider that earlier?
“Um, I mean… I’ll go and get a mattress from one of the other cabins.”
Neal glared at her. “You’ll take the bed,” he said.
With you? May had to fight down the arousal flickering through her body on the heels of that thought.
“What about—” She wet her dry lips. “What about you? Where will you sleep?”
Neal’s eyes flashed and for a second, she was sure he was imagining the same thing that she was. Both of them in bed together, bodies touching, the glide of bare skin. Oh God. She had to stop. She tore her eyes away from his.
Neal took a step back. “I’ll take the couch,” he said shortly, and walked back to the fire, the muscles of his shoulders bunched. He stripped off his jacket with tense movements. His thin black t-shirt looked painted on, and May traced the lines of his muscles with hungry eyes before catching herself.
May spun around and busied herself with the kettle. She’d better make herself a cup of herbal tea before she went upstairs, otherwise she was never going to sleep. She gripped her mug, waiting for the water to boil, and definitely not replaying the way his muscles rippled under his t-shirt over and over in her mind.
She gulped, pressed her legs tightly together and quickly finished making her tea, dropping in a generous spoonful of honey for her nerves.
She inched towards the stairs with her mug held like a shield before her. Neal was relaxed into the couch, one leg crossed loosely over his knee, a picture of restrained strength as his watchful eyes tracked her movement.
May hesitated by the stairs. “Good night,” she said quietly. Neal didn’t reply. She stared at him, then turned away, trying not to feel disappointed. He didn’t want her here, she reminded herself, climbing the stairs. He was acting on orders.
She listened intently but she couldn’t hear the sound of Neal moving around in the cabin below her. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had seen him, she wouldn’t even know he was there.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. There was a strange feeling, a kind of awareness that he was below her. Nothing she could point to. She couldn’t see him from where she was tucked up on the bed but she knew he hadn’t left. Weird. She sighed, probably her mind playing tricks on her. How could she possibly know where he was? She sipped her tea quietly, as, below her, the fire crackled in the grate. She thought it would take her hours to fall asleep, but surprisingly, sleep came quickly after she finally did lie down. It seemed only moments after she closed her eyes before a dream swept her up into the darkness.
May was standing on the snow-covered ground, looking out over the hunting lodge. The night sky above her was clear and lit with thousands of tiny stars. She could see the Milky Way winding across the sky above her.
The ground beneath was coated with snow. She was barefoot. She looked down at her body. She was only wearing her nightie. She became aware of the cold on her skin. The biting wind and the snow, freezing through the soles of her feet. She shivered violently.
Then she felt a presence behind her, a warmth reaching out for her, far away, but approaching quickly. Part of her wondered if she should be afraid, if she should turn and look to see who it was, but the greater part of her was calm, waiting. More than that, yearning, calling to the presence she felt.
It drew closer and closer, calling up an answering fire within her body. She knew suddenly who it was, and when Neal’s arms closed around her, it felt completely right. His body enfolded her own, glorious heat radiating through her thin nightie to her skin. He was like a furnace. How was that possible? Vampires were supposed to be cold.
“It’s you,” he said, answering her unspoken question as if he had heard her thoughts. “You keep me warm. You are the reason I feel alive once more.”
May tried to turn, needing to see his face, but Neal held her tightly as if he couldn’t bear to let her go, and all she could do was sink back into his embrace. He lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck. The stubble of his jaw scraped against her sensitive skin. The soft velvet of his lips mouthed along the line of her neck.
She ached for him to bite her, arched her neck to offer him her throat. God, she wanted it. “Please,” she moaned.
“I can’t,” Neal said, and she heard the frustration in his voice. “Don’t tempt me. I canna control myself.”
“I don’t want you to,” she said. “I don’t want control. I need you inside me.” She pressed back against him and felt the hard weight of his shaft at her lower back.
The desire within her was roaring up, all-consuming, and the bond between them was tearing open, forging a space for itself inside her chest, next to her heart. Golden filaments wound around the both of them, so bright in her mind that she almost saw the reflections they cast on the snow.
Neal groaned against her neck, pulling her so close to him there was no space between them. It was as if they were sinking into each other’s bodies. Like they were becoming one. She was burning up with desire. His and hers, tightening between them. She felt what he felt, tasted her own skin under his lips, the sensation was dizzying, terrifying.
She dragged open her eyes. She saw, lying next to their bond, another glowing thread emanating out from Neal, reaching across the snow to the cabins on the far side of the lodge. Talon and Rune? Could she be seeing the Bloodline bond that connected them? How was that possible? She was only a human. And yet, there they were, and beyond them, finer filaments that spread out south, toward Chicago.
“How is this happening?” she whispered quietly.
“I don’t know,” Neal replied, shock in his rough voice.
Then there was a twisting, wrenching feeling. Like something was pulling on the strands that connected them. Pulling and tearing them apart.
The wind rose around them and Neal’s grip started to slip from her body. She turned, fear rising cold within her, and the wind snatched, tearing them apart and ripping him away. May spun around, screaming his name into the darkness, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The twisting, wrenching feeling cut through May, icy cold like sticky grey spiders’ webs, choking and binding her until she couldn’t move, until she was flailing, screaming desperately, kicking and writhing and…
May threw back the covers and untangled herself from the bed sheets, finally awake. A dream. She gasped in a deep breath. It was just a dream. The only thing restraining her were the sheets. She kicked them off the bed to land in a thump on the floor, and sagged back against the pillows, still panting, staring up at the wooden beams. Why the hell would she dream something like that?
It took her a while to shake off the lingering terror from the dream and climb out of bed. The dream had started well enough; the warmth, the sense of closeness with Neal, but the end of it? The wind tearing them apart. The cold and the dark.
She shook her head. It didn’t matter. It was just a dream and none of it meant anything. But despite repeating this to herself all morning, she couldn’t quite convince herself that it was true.
Chapter 7
May pulled her thick neon coat tighter around her shoulders to try and block out some of the cold. She was slightly regretting letting Dana select such a bright color. Although it did make it easier for the other vassals to pick her out and go to her with their problems, which considering the number of crises she’d had to fix already, was a mixed blessing.
“Come on, Ivy,” she called, “it’s freezing out here.”
Ivy shouted a muffled reply from inside her cabin, and May sta
rted blowing on her hands, trying to generate some heat. It was probably her imagination, but it felt like the temperature had dropped even further in the week since they’d arrived. The cold crept deeper into her bones every time she left the warmth of one of the cabins.
Or maybe it was just that unsettled feeling she’d gotten from her strange dreams every night. None of them had lasted as long or been as clear as the first one, when she’d felt Neal behind her only to lose him to the darkness, but every time she slept, she was stalked through the snow. In her dreams, she sensed Neal somewhere behind her, being held apart from her by a shadowy twisted figure that she couldn’t get a good fix on. It filled her with unease and the feeling tracked her after she woke up. She felt constantly on edge, like she was being watched and followed.
May looked around her anxiously. The night was solid and thick and the darkness kept its secrets close.
“I’m here, I’m here, sorry,” Ivy said, running out of the building and slamming the door behind her, kicking up a flurry of snow as she made her way across to May.
The two of them walked across the grounds towards the back entrance, where the vassals were already milling about. The engines of the snow trucks rumbled behind them, clearing the paths from yesterday’s snowfall, but other than that the night was fairly quiet. The heavy snow blanketed the sound of their footsteps.
“I can’t believe it’s only been a week,” Ivy said after a moment, her voice coming out muffled from behind the thick scarf she had wrapped around her face.
May nodded. “It feels like we’ve been here forever.”
“I don’t think I can remember what being warm feels like!” Ivy said, tightening her arms around her body dramatically.
May laughed, “I bet you’re counting the days until you can get back to California.”
Ivy, or at least the muffled, Ivy-shaped figure, nodded vigorously. “Honestly, I’m going to go straight to the beach in the middle of the day and bake myself under the sun,” she said.
May grinned. It was weird, but she didn’t really miss the sun all that much. She’d been working nights now for so long, and being part of vampire society more than made up for the loss of the days. At least it did when she wasn’t being haunted by strange dreams.
She hadn’t spoken to Neal about the dream. She had no idea how to broach the subject. Oh hey, Neal, so I know you’ve been avoiding me, and we barely see each other, even though we’re staying in the same cabin, but I just wanted to ask if you’ve had any strange dreams lately, about me, touching me, holding me… Yeah, forget the creepy shadow part of it, the first part was bad enough. She’d be fired and on the first vehicle back to Chicago before she could blink. And then what would she do? Her job was all she had. She’d be totally screwed. Nope, she wasn’t going to mess up, and she wasn’t going to bother one of the Shadows with some damn bad dreams.
They had enough to worry about anyway. She glanced up at the big windows as she walked past. The fate of Chicago was being decided right here. It was bigger than just her job, and she was damn glad she didn’t have to get any closer to the politics than this. She wasn’t like Dana, right there, fighting with the vampires. She just wanted to keep her job, look out for the vassals working with her, and get through this Conclave without causing trouble for the Shadows or anyone else.
How she felt about Neal and the strange dreams she was having didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t interested in her. She was only staying in his cabin because of Dana— how embarrassing! She didn’t want him to see her as some kind of burden, but that was probably what it was. He was angry that she had been foisted on him. A silly human woman who couldn’t look out for herself.
Ivy split off to greet a couple of Clarity vassals and May waved, keeping on towards the parking lot. One of the snow trucks was awkwardly maneuvering into its parking space, and May stepped clear to give the driver space.
Suddenly an engine roared behind her. She turned. A second truck was skidding off the road and coming straight for her.
She was blinded by the lights shining in her eyes, and she froze in terror. The truck was coming at full speed and didn’t seem to be braking at all—if anything, it seemed to be accelerating.
It couldn’t be, May thought in the split second she had, before there was a tearing crash of metal, bright lights, and the screaming rush of wind. Next thing she knew, the noise had stopped, and she was pressed against something hard and solid. Not something, she realized, someone. She looked up directly into Neal’s eyes. She wasn’t dead. Wasn’t crushed. He had saved her.
Winded, she blinked up at him. There were ice crystals on his long eyelashes and his green eyes were filled with concern as he looked down at her.
The shock of the moment began to wear off and she was aware of how very close they were. The entire front of his body was pressed against hers. The raging heat of him radiated through her thick coat.
Where he had come from? How he had gotten there so fast? She struggled to sit up, but he wouldn’t let her move.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt,” she insisted, when it seemed like he wasn’t going to let her move. “Neal, I’m fine.”
He leaned back, lifting her and helping her upright.
May brushed the snow from her body. She wasn’t even bruised. She looked up and lost her breath. The front of the truck was completely crushed, twisted jags of metal splayed around them. Holy shit. He had thrown himself between them. How was he still standing?
She looked over at him—he seemed unharmed. She wanted to run her hands over his arms, press her palms to his skin and bare every inch of him. She swallowed, stepped back. She had no right to care about him. She wasn’t anything to him, she repeated to herself, stemming the flow of disappointment within her.
He hovered close to her as she walked slowly forward towards the truck. As she got close, she saw the driver had flung himself free and was pulling himself up out of a snowdrift. Neal quickly overtook her, advancing on the driver, a black rage in his eyes. May quaked with fear. What was he going to do to him? She sped up.
She was surprised to recognize the driver as the vassal from the day they had arrived. The one who had been needling Ivy about the soup. Neal dragged him out of the snowdrift and slammed him against the side of the truck.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he roared in his face. His eyes flashed and a wave of pure power emanated from him. It was terrifying.
The vassal went white with fear, and even May was shocked at the vehemence of Neal’s anger.
“I didn’t—I didn’t see her,” the vassal stuttered.
“Didn’t see her?” Neal said, shaking the man so hard his teeth rattled in his head. “She’s wearing a neon fucking green coat.”
Neal was right. She was pretty damn hard to miss. But the way Neal was gripping the man, the pure violence in Neal’s eyes, May started to worry for the vassal’s life. Neal looked like he wanted to tear him apart.
May stepped forwards, terrified, but not willing to see a human ripped apart in front of her, even if he had almost killed her.
She reached out hesitantly and placed her hand on Neal’s shoulder. His muscles were like rock under her arm, and he didn’t even seem to notice her light touch.
“Neal, please let him go.”
Neal turned his head minutely to the side, and she got a flash of green eyes darkened with rage. Shit. He was going to kill him.
She tightened her grip on his shoulder and pulled back, but it was like he was made of stone. Totally immovable.
“Neal, come on, you need to let him go.”
Neal snarled and shoved the vassal against the truck again, so hard that the truck itself rocked. May was sure she heard his bones creaking under Neal’s hold. She pulled at Neal again.
“Neal, I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not hurt, look,” she soothed. She shifted around until she could catch his eyes again, looking at him intently. “I’m not hurt, i
t’s okay, Neal.” She stared up at him, willing him to let the vassal go. “Please.”
This finally seemed to get through to him, and Neal shifted back, releasing the man who collapsed into a shivering ball at Neal’s feet.
“Get out of here,” Neal growled. “Get out of my sight.” The man scrambled around the side of the truck and ran.
May breathed a sigh of relief. Ivy was on the far side of the parking lot, staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. I’m fine, May mouthed, and she gestured towards the people who had begun to cluster around the truck, waving. Ivy’s expression cleared and she turned with her hands on her hips and snapped at all the onlookers.
“Well, what you-all staring at? Come on, the show’s over. Get moving.”
The onlookers slowly drifted away, and May looked back at Neal.
He was staring at her with those deep green eyes, and again May was pinned in place, her breath leaving her in a rush. He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them. May’s chest ached at his expression, the way he stared at her. It was like nothing else existed.
“He could have killed you,” Neal said, his voice scraped raw.
“No,” May whispered, “No, I’m okay, I promise. Neal, I didn’t even get bruised. You… you saved me,” she said, suddenly aware of how close she had come. “You saved my life,” she said, gazing up at him, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. His face was so close to hers, his lips almost close enough to touch. She swayed towards him and he slid his arms around her, pulling her against him.
His touch—it was electric, like all her nerve endings lit up at once. Could he feel it too? She stared into his eyes. Did he care for her? Surely, she couldn’t be the only one feeling this bond. His touch ignited a need deep within her. She ached for him to press his lips to hers.
She didn’t even notice the onlookers being chased away by Ivy, leaving them in a little pocket of silence and stillness. All her attention was wrapped up in the vampire in front of her. God, she wanted him. He swayed towards her; his lips so close she could feel his breath on hers. Her eyes fluttered shut.