by L. J. Red
The rage Neal felt showed no sign of abating it was all channeled into violence.
He reared against Talon’s grip, trying to break free. “He’s guilty,” Neal said. “He’s the reason for the attack.” He pointed at Roman.
Roman shoved himself away from the wall and brushed down his clothes, sneering at Neal. “How dare you accuse me,” he said.
“I know it was you,” Neal said.
“You know nothing,” Roman said.
“What is going on here?” A hard voice came from behind them. Neal turned to see Finlay shoving through the crowd and striding past the other vampires who had been too afraid to interrupt Neal when he’d burst into the room in a rage.
“Neal? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be guarding the perimeter?” He glanced between them. “What is all this uproar?”
“This animal has been accosting me,” said Roman. “You see what I mean. The Shadows have lost control. They are a danger to our society.”
Talon and Neal both growled, eyes flashing.
“You attacked my—” Neal broke off. My what? How could he describe how he felt about her? She didn’t even know how conflicted his feelings were. No one did. A wave of frustration and anger rose up in him, threatening to choke him, but he pushed it down. “My vassal,” he said.
“An attack?” Finlay asked, looking between Neal and Roman.
Neal was so overcome with anger that he couldn’t speak.
“A human,” Talon said, “a HUNT human. The body is secure.”
“How on earth could a human have broken into the Conclave?” Finlay said, shocked.
“Yet more proof that the Shadows cannot do their job,” said Roman.
“Fuck you,” said Neal. “You let him in here. Don’t even try to deny it. He was lying in wait—”
“Impossible, you’re lying,” said Roman.
“Careful,” said Finlay, “Don’t forget, you are still under investigation for what happened in Chicago, Roman.”
Roman jerked back, clearly not expecting Finlay to side with Neal. He scrambled for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. “Don’t forget, the Shadows are also under investigation for what happened, setting aside how long it took them to track the Monster of Chicago down.”
“How long it took us?” Neal shouted. “You were protecting the killer the whole time. He was the head of your fucking territory in Chicago.”
“I knew nothing of Kai’s actions,” Roman said, pushing away from the wall, his pale eyes wide. “He acted completely without my knowledge.”
“Bullshit,” Neal roared, his claws lengthening and digging into Talon’s grip. Talon winced, but his fellow Shadow didn’t let up his grip on Neal one bit. It was the only thing holding Neal back, and he was amazed that for once Talon was the one with greater control than him.
“The position of the Shadows may be in question,” Finlay said, “but their abilities and loyalties are not.” He rounded on Roman. “Unlike yours,” he said pointedly. “Nevertheless, we can have no more fighting.” He turned to Neal. “This kind of behavior is completely unacceptable, particularly from a Shadow who is supposed to be keeping the peace during this Conclave.”
Neal knew Finlay was right, but he still couldn’t unlock his muscles enough to step back. He still wanted to leap on Roman’s shoulders and tear him apart.
“More pressingly,” Finlay continued, “if a hunter truly has found our Conclave, we must consider the fact that the secrecy surrounding this location has been breached.”
He stepped forward toward Neal and Talon. “We need you. We need the Shadows. Can I rely on you?” he said quietly.
Neal said nothing.
“Yes,” Talon said from behind Neal. Finlay glanced between them but accepted Talon’s word. He gestured to a couple of vampire guards who had been waiting at his back. “Please escort Roman to his quarters,” he said. “We shall continue this tomorrow. Enough has been said tonight.”
Roman glared at Neal as he passed, telling Neal silently that this wasn’t over. He was surer than ever that Roman somehow had a hand in the hunter breaking into his cabin. He swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of it.
“For God’s sake man, step back,” Talon said in Neal’s ear, still pushing against him.
Neal finally stopped trying to get to Roman and took a step back.
“Thank God,” Talon said. “Look, I’ll send Rune to sit in on the next meeting. You need to clear your head.”
“I can do it,” Neal said emotionlessly.
“Oh yeah,” said Talon, “and when Roman comes in, are you going to sit and watch the meeting or are you going to try and rip his head off?”
“I can control myself,” Neal said, his face expressionless.
“And what happens when he bad-mouths the Shadows in front of you, or hell what if he makes a comment about your vassal—”
Neal snarled and slammed into Talon, bearing him back towards the door.
Talon set his feet but still ended up being borne back a few paces under the force of Neal’s rage. Neal’s jacket tore as Talon scrabbled at his arms.
“Get a grip!” Talon said, “Do you see? Do you see what I mean? You need to clear your head.” He twisted and shoved Neal to the side neatly, using Neal’s strength and rage against him, flipping him back towards the door.
Neal spun, caught himself, and landed on his feet a few paces away, breathing heavily.
“Go,” Talon said, “I’ll stay here. For once I’m the one least likely to lose his temper and go into a murderous rage. Let me enjoy it.” He pulled a sharp smile onto his lips.
Neal saw the concern under Talon smile, and it was that that finally convinced him Talon was right, he was out of control. Neal stumbled out into the snow and stared up at the sky. Fat flakes were coming down all around him, blanketing the world in a silent white.
Without deciding to, he began walking towards his cabin, desperate to see May, to be sure she was all right. The crowd that had been outside the cabin after the attack had long since dispersed and only Rune stood silently at the door, his body language alert and his eyes cold and watchful.
“Report,” Neal said shortly, hyper-aware of May’s presence within the cabin.
“It’s been quiet,” Rune said. “No attempt at a second attack.” He noticed the furrows in Neal’s leather jacket from where Talon had gripped him hard enough to rip it, and he frowned, the expression twisting the long scar on his forehead. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Neal said. “It doesn’t matter. No one in or out?” he continued, looking at the cabin door.
“She sent that vassal away, said she wanted to be alone. Other than that, no.”
Neal nodded. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He needed to be inside the cabin with her. “Talon is on guard duty at the next Conclave meeting. I want you and Talon to trade off perimeter watches until then. Take as many of our guards as you need.”
“Got it,” Rune said, and he rested his hand on Neal’s shoulder for a moment, communicating silent support, then walked past Neal into the night.
Neal firmed his shoulders and took a deep breath, then shoved open the door.
May was standing right there in the middle of the cabin.
Chapter 14
May’s eyes widened as she took him in.
Neal simply drank in the sight of her, safe and whole. He advanced purposefully towards her, and she stared up at him wide-eyed. He scented the edge of fear in the air. It made him feel tense, on edge, ready to destroy the threat—and frustrated, because it was him. He was the threat. He was what she was afraid of. “You’re still afraid of me,” he said looking down at her, “of course you are, after what you saw.”
There was a spark in her eyes, “It’s not you that I’m afraid of,” she said, her hands on her hips as she stared up at him. Her dark-edged eyes were wide. “I was afraid for you. I didn’t know what you were going to do when you ran off. I thought you would do something… something dang
erous.” She blinked, her eyes looking liquid.
“I almost did,” he growled low. “Roman nearly met his end tonight.”
May gasped, pressing her fingers against her mouth. “Did you kill him?”
“No,” he said regretfully, “Talon stopped me.” He laughed wryly. “For once Talon was the one with control, and I was the one without it.” His laugh dried up as he looked down at May. She was the reason his control was so shredded, and yet being here with her felt so right. He couldn’t regret it.
The fear scent faded away, leaving the two of them standing close together. Her fresh, clean scent wrapped around his mind, delicious, enticing. He was starting to get hard. She looked so tiny and fragile, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take her away from anyone who would threaten her.
He made himself step back. He couldn’t do this. He needed to try and dredge up some last remnants of his self-control. But he couldn’t bear to leave—just taking a couple of steps away pulled the thread between them taut. He leaned back against a countertop, trying to calm his breathing, cool his lust. May returned to what she had been doing before he came in, scrubbing the coffee table that was already gleaming. He looked around, taking it all in. The cabin was already set to rights. She had managed to pick up and fix the mess that the human had left and that his fight had only made worse. Even the bloodstains on the floor had been scrubbed clean.
Neal walked towards May and rested his hand over hers. She went stock-still. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” May said, “it’s my job. I’m a vassal, remember?
“You do a lot more than just cleaning,” he said.
“There’s nothing wrong with cleaning,” May said and he sensed a world of hurt underneath her words. “Sue me if I like to make things orderly and tidy and…” May trailed off with a hiccupping sob, pressing her hand to her mouth to try and keep it in.
Neal realized the calm front she had been putting on was just that, a front. The attack had affected her a great deal more than she let on. Feeling an unstoppable draw to ease her suffering, he gently took her hands in his and drew her close to him. She pushed at him angrily, but he didn’t let her go, keeping her within the circle of his arms.
“It’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re all right.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she snapped, “it’s you. You just threw yourself into the fight. He had a gun. He could have hurt you…”
“It would take more than one hunter to stop me,” Neal said, “Trust me.” Memories flickered past his eyes, oh yes. “Far more than one hunter.”
“What do you mean?” May asked.
Neal hesitated,
“I’m sorry,” May said, “I don’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s not that,” Neal stopped her. He never spoke of what had happened to him in Italy, the memories of fire and pain, but the honest question in May’s eyes made him reconsider. He didn’t want to hide from her. He didn’t want secrets.
“I was captured,” he said finally. “I had only recently become one of the Shadows and my first assignment was to travel to Italy with Rune to guard a Circle Elder. While I was at the court—” He moved away from May, old memories trapping him, the scent of roses, pale grey eyes, thick black hair. “—I fell in love, or at least, I thought I did.” May’s eyes shuttered. “May I—”
“No, it’s fine,” May said, stepping back as well. “You’ve lived a long time; it would be stupid to think you’d never fallen in love.”
But he hadn’t. He’d thought it was love, but he’d been wrong was wrong. What he felt before paled in comparison to what he felt for May. And yet, he couldn’t tell her that. She didn’t want that from him. His words tangled between his mind and his tongue. “It wasn’t… May, I thought it was love but—”
“It’s fine Neal,” she said, her voice tight, “I understand. Please, tell me what happened next.” She turned away from him and walked to the fire. Neal growled in frustration. Why could he never say the right thing? He pressed his eyes shut and took a deep breath.
“She was captured,” he said, wanting to get through the story as simply as he could. “Hunters took her. I went after them, but it was a trap.” Memories of pain rose up to catch him, and he pushed them away, stripping his voice of emotion. “They captured me, tortured me, drained me of my blood.”
“Drained you of your blood? Why?” May asked, spinning around. The darkness had left her eyes, Neal was glad to notice, though now they were filled with concern for him.
“To weaken me, I expect,” he said, taking a hesitant step towards her. “I escaped, but in the course of my escape, a torch fell, and fire spread. I spent hours searching, searching for the woman they had captured, but…”
“She died,” May said, her voice hollow with realisation. “The woman you loved, she died.”
“Yes, she died, but—”
“I’m so sorry,” May interrupted him.
I didn’t love her, he wanted to say, but May reached out before he could speak and placed her hand over his heart. His breath caught, tangled at her touch. He could feel her, feel her emotions through the bond. The depth of her sorrow for him stole his words.
“I understand now. No wonder. Losing her like that.” She raised her eyes to his. “I’m so sorry. It must have been awful.” He met May’s eyes, pierced by the emotion held within them. So much sorrow, so much sympathy. That this human woman could care so much about him, after all the horrific fights he’d been in, all the violence, all the rage, that she could see him kill a man in front of her and still touch him so gently. He loved her. He loved May, and the thought was like a lightning bolt through his heart. The ice within him cracked, beginning to thaw. The bond between them was undeniable, thrumming in his chest, where her palm rested. He needed—fuck, it was overwhelming. He needed her too much. However she would take him, but he couldn’t let her know, couldn’t scare her away with the intensity of what he was feeling.
“I hate that they did that to you, the hunters,” May said, and Neal dragged his focus away from his innermost self, back to what she was saying. “The thought that there are still people out there who hate vampires so much they would attack you, attack me, or anyone who gets in their way.” She shook her head. “I just felt so useless!” she said angrily. “Standing at the door, watching you fight, not being able to do anything.”
Neal eased back, taking in the fire in her expression. “Perhaps we can do something about that,” he said.
“What?” May looked up at him, confused.
“You should learn at the very least how to break a hold,” he said, warming to the idea. Of course, he never wanted her to be in danger, but if it would make her feel better, feel more secure, brush away the edges of fragile anxiety he could scent from her then he was all for it.
“Here,” he reached for her hand and tugged her towards the central area of the cabin. May had suddenly become nervous, her body language tense, but Neal refused to take no for an answer. Her pulse quickened under his grip. “If someone comes at you from behind, like so,” he reached around her and quickly discovered the flaw in his plan. Having her so close to him was playing havoc with his intention to hide how much she affected him. Her back was pressed up against him, her hands gripping his forearm. He breathed slowly, trying to angle his hips away so she wouldn’t feel the effect she was having on him.
“I don’t know if I can—”
He gripped her harder. “Try and break my hold,” he growled, his lips close to her ear. Fuck, he wanted to lick the curve, press kisses down her neck. He growled again, this time purely from frustrated lust, but the sound spurred her into action. She shoved at him ineffectually, pitting her own meager strength against his.
“No,” he said, ruthlessly chaining his desire, “like this.” He placed his hand on her arm and showed her how to twist and where to strike to break his grip.
“Oh, I see,” May said, facing him, her skin flushed.
“Again,” he said, spinning her around, trying not to listen to the beat of her heart, increasing with the exertion. The flush of blood under her skin. Again, they practiced, over and over, every moment torture, desire burning him up every time he touched her, every slide of his hands against her arms, every time he took her body and shifted position, his hands lingering on her hips, her waist.
May was panting, her chest heaving, her breasts pressed against her top, the smooth curve of her hip inviting his touch. It wasn’t just exertion scenting the air. His gaze sharpened. That was her arousal. She wanted him. He took a step closer, desperate for the feel of her skin. May arched up towards him, his grip on her wrists turning, loosening as she pressed herself against him for an entirely different reason.
“May, fuck, I want—”
“Yes,” she whispered. The haze of lust spun around them, tangling them both in thick, heavy strands of desire. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed her. He closed the distance between their bodies and kissed her deeply.
The taste of her, indescribable. More, he needed more. Neal growled, deep and low in his chest, the sound rumbling through them. He needed to bury himself inside her, he wanted her screaming his name.
Chapter 15
May lost herself in the rush of desire flowing through her body, stronger than anything she’d experienced before. She didn’t know how he was coaxing these feelings out of her but she didn’t want it to ever end. Desire sparked and fired through her nerves at every touch. He ran his fingers up her neck and she moaned into the caress.
His hardness pressed against her belly and she shuddered, her knees weak. There was so much of him, she could barely fit her hands around his shoulders. She was vulnerable, fragile in his grip. And yet, his hold on her was soft, gentle, urging her in towards him, not taking, but coaxing her to open for him.
He bent his head and ran his lips, open-mouthed, down her neck, following the path of his fingers. The pressure of his fangs sent a thrill of fear and desire through her. What would happen if he bit down? Claimed her in a way so intimate, she could barely imagine it. She gripped him tightly as he kissed his way down her neck. She couldn’t catch her breath or catch up with her thoughts.