She arched into his touch with a small gasp. Nerves flared to life under his talented fingers, and she fought a whimper of desperate need. She slid both hands into his thick hair and jerked his head up to meet her gaze. “I know.” The man had both her heart and her trust. “It’s okay.” To emphasize her point, she tilted her hips to give him better access, rubbing along his shaft and making them both groan.
He removed his finger and positioned himself at her entry. “I’m sorry, baby.” Slowly, he pushed inside, pausing several times to pull out and maneuver back in. “God, you’re tight.”
Erotic pain filled her, and she fought the dual urges to pull away and get closer. As he reached her barrier, finally, she began to panic. Zane captured her mouth in a kiss, going deep, taking everything she had. She fell into the firestorm, kissing him back, her body rioting for relief. He shoved the last couple of inches, taking her virginity.
She cried out into his mouth as pain overtook all pleasure.
He released her mouth and lifted his head. Waiting, his odd black/green gaze seeing everything.
Finally, the pain ebbed. She moved against him, testing. Then she smiled, her breath catching. “Move.”
He grinned and slowly slid out to glide back in, watching her carefully. Yeah, it hurt. But as he moved more, pleasure replaced the pain. Desire rippled through her again, stoked higher than before. She grabbed his hips, meeting each thrust. “More,” she gasped. Wow. This was . . . new.
His concentration solely on her, he increased the speed and strength of his thrusts. Harder. Farther. More.
The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the small cabin.
One thought centered her. Zane. This was Zane inside her, filling her. The reality was so much more than any dream she’d concocted. “Zane,” she whispered.
A coiling in her belly grew like electrical fire. She climbed, getting so close, wanting with everything she was to fall over and into bliss. The need stole her breath, her very mind.
Fangs flashed.
In an instinctive move older than time, she turned her head, baring her neck.
He struck swift and deep. Those fangs pierced her flesh in a pain way too erotic to define. She cried out, her body flying way. The orgasm hit her deep, striking through her body and uncoiling everything she was. Everything she’d ever been, and everything she’d become. She shut her eyes, letting the explosions destroy her.
Zane growled low, pounded harder, and grabbed her hips for better leverage.
She couldn’t move.
A searing pain spread along her lower back, and then Zane held her tight, her name on his breath as he disintegrated with her.
Chapter 12
Zane sprawled in the chair, his mind spinning, his body impossibly sated. The fire crackled with subdued energy, glowing through the cabin. What in the fucking hell had he just done? He kept his gaze on Janie as she slept so peacefully in the big bed. After mind-blowing sex, the woman had drifted to sleep.
He’d waited a few moments before yanking on his pants and fetching a towel to clean her up. Blood had dotted her thighs, giving proof of their union. She’d waited for him, which both humbled him and filled him with masculine pride. Already in dreamland, the woman hadn’t moved as he’d administered to her.
Finally, he’d dropped into the chair.
The burning across his palms forced him to look again.
Both fucking palms.
A rare Z cut hard and deep across his hands. From the name of his demon ancestors, the Zane family. He’d been named for them.
God. He’d mated Janie.
She was going to kill him. Rightfully. He hadn’t planned to bind them and sure as hell hadn’t realized the mating would happen. But once inside her, his body and instincts had taken over. They’d agreed to one night, just to know each other. Now she was trapped.
If he died soon, and surely Suri already had a contract on Zane’s head ready to go, then Janie was stuck for life. A demon/vampire hybrid mating a human was so damn rare, and there was no way out of it.
She murmured in her sleep and rolled over onto her stomach. As if drawn, he stood and quietly leaned over her, tugging down the bedclothes. Twin Z’s, along with his large handprints, spread almost magically across her lower back. Her entire lower back and around her rib cage—right above two perfect globes. His woman had a great ass.
Primitive satisfaction filled his chest and pissed him off even more. Yet the ‘mine’ that rumbled from his chest wouldn’t be silenced.
The world began to lighten outside, and he pulled on his shirt. Should he leave her a note? If so, what the hell should it say? Sorry, baby, I just mated you so you’ll never find anybody else when I die? XOXO, see you soon, if your family doesn’t cut off my head the second they smell you on me.
Fuck. No way.
Maybe she’d sleep until he returned. Grumbling, he strode into the kitchen to grab a notepad.
Janie Belle,
We need to talk.
Zane
He rubbed his chin as he left the note on the table. Then he took one last good look.
She slept on her stomach, her head turned to the side, her expression one of peaceful abandon. Firelight kissed her delicate features and highlighted her stubborn chin. Her skin was smooth, her muscles toned, and a sense of innocence and sweetness all but surrounded her.
His heart thumped. Hard. “Mine.”
Keeping his gaze on her until the last second, he drew power up through his feet to his head, filling himself with the universe and naturally bending the binding of physical laws. Visualizing the computer room in Idaho, he allowed his molecules to separate and then regroup, finally closing his eyes.
This time he landed on his feet.
Nick looked up, his eyes bloodshot, three empty coffee cups next to him. “’Bout time you got here. Learn to jump with a damn cell phone, would you?”
Zane shrugged and shoved his guilty hands into his pockets. Besides the brand, the damn things were shaking. He had to stop jumping so often. God knew what was happening with his internal organs. “Can’t. A phone won’t make the jump.” He frowned to see Sam up on the screen, and then Logan came into view. “Thank God,” Zane muttered, taking a deep breath finally.
Logan grinned, his green eyes sparkling in a bruised face. He’d cut his black hair short, and a three-day stubble covered his square jaw. “Hi, Bro.”
Zane nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “You all right?”
“Fine. Just fighting vampires in Zimbabwe.” Young and earnest, Logan’s face nevertheless held a new hardness. Killing and surviving stamped them every time.
A twenty-year-old shouldn’t be fighting, damn it. Zane clenched his hands into fists in his pockets and leaned closer to the screen. “Sam, get him out of there. Now.”
Nick spoke before Sam could. “I found your mother.”
Zane jerked his head. “Where?”
“Island off the Florida Keys.” Nick typed and brought up a schematic on a second screen. “I decided to look where they’d be least likely to keep her and followed the money trail there.”
Relief buzzed through Zane along with apprehension. “Do we have friendlies in Florida?”
“Yes.” Nick handed him an address. “Teleport to this locale, suit up, and rent a raft to take the island. It’s guarded, but a lot of Suri’s forces have been pulled to fight around the world, so you have a chance.”
A chance was all Zane had needed. Finally, he could get his mother to safety. His muscles bunched with the need to move and fast.
Sam pushed Logan off the first screen. “We’ll meet you there in a minute.”
“No.” Zane lowered his voice into command. “Get Logan to safety, and I’ll be in touch.”
Logan’s head popped up next to Sam’s. “We’re going, Zane. You need backup, and she’s our mom, too.” Fire and determination lit his face.
Zane paused. She was their mother, too, and he’d trained them since day one, so they’d be g
ood backup. He couldn’t exclude them. “Very well. See you in a minute; wait for me outside.” He flicked off the screen and turned toward Nick. “Thanks for your help. I owe you.”
Nick rubbed his whiskered chin, fatigue lining his face. “We’ve planned for every contingency, I hope.” He held out a hand. “Godspeed, buddy.”
Zane accepted the hand and shook. “You’re a good friend.”
Nick frowned and flipped over Zane’s palm. “Oh, you fucking didn’t.”
Yeah. That pretty much summed up his situation. “I did.” With the last remark, Zane teleported out of Idaho.
Zane held the automatic weapon low and against his bulletproof vest as he emerged from the water. He’d met his brothers and suited up, paying a fortune for the guns. They’d rafted out and then swum the rest of the way, reaching the seemingly quiet island from three different vantage points.
As always, he’d take the front entrance. Sam had the rear, and Logan a side entrance where he shouldn’t see too much resistance. Hopefully.
Taking a moment, Zane tied a bandanna over his hair to keep it from getting in the way. If he survived the next week, he really needed a haircut. Clasping his gun with leather-covered hands, he leaned against a series of rocks and listened. No sounds. No vibration of power on the wind.
Either the coast was clear . . . or they knew he was coming and they’d shielded.
Only one way to find out.
He swung around the rock and edged toward the tree line. Infrared photos of the island had revealed a plantation-type home in the middle, with many heat signatures. To contain a female demon, Suri’s forces had probably dug a basement and encased the walls in both concrete and steel.
The thought of Zane’s mother imprisoned in such a way clogged his throat with fury. He shook his head to center himself. Anger would get him killed, and he had a job to do.
So he calmed and allowed the beast deep down to lurch forward. The beast could hunt, track, and kill without mercy, and for now, he’d show none.
Gunfire ripped through the peaceful morning.
Shit. He ran into the forest to jog through the trees, wondering which of his brothers had taken on fire. They had orders to back each other up, and he had to trust they’d fall back on training. His job was to go in.
He reached the edge of the trees and dropped to one knee, shooting the guard at the door, hitting him in the neck. The demon had remained at his post, even with a gun battle going on behind the house, and Zane had to appreciate the fact. But he still had to go down.
Running forward, Zane leaped over the body and hit the front door with his left shoulder. Wood impacted, and he flew through, his gun ready. A bullet whipped into his thigh, and he dropped, rolling to fire toward the shooter. Pain pierced his leg, and he ignored it to dodge behind a purple settee. Powerful visions and screaming agony stabbed into his brain.
Sucking in air, he forced shields around his mind. All demons could fight with mind games, and all could shield. As part-vampire, his shields weren’t as good as a full-blooded demon, thus leaving fingernails of pain still clawing through his brain.
But he could still function.
So he jutted up and shot toward the grandfather clock in the corner.
The demon guard jumped across the room and hit the small couch, shoving shards of wood into Zane’s vest. Zane reached up and pulled the demon down, scissored around him, and stabbed him in the neck. Blood arced across Zane’s vest, bubbling like acid.
He pushed the demon off only to be tackled to the ground again. Relying on training, he flipped around and punched his attacker in the eye. They grappled, both going for the fast kill.
Smoke filled the room while gunfire continued unabated outside.
Zane sliced his blade into the demon’s neck and shoved him away. Ducking low to peer under the smoke, he dodged through the room and headed down a long hall to a doorway. Kicking it open, he grimaced at the narrow stairs leading down.
A whisper of sound alerted him, and he half-turned, only to get hit mid-center by a guard. He flailed for the railing and missed, hitting three steps and breaking his ribs. He and the demon fought each other while plummeting down the concrete stairs, finally landing at the bottom with Zane on top. Three hard punches to the demon’s face knocked him out cold.
Zane stood and placed a hand against the wall to keep from falling again. His leg burned, and the world had gone fuzzy as his brain swelled against his skull. Swallowing bile, he turned and jogged down a concrete surrounded hallway to a door with a keypad next to it. He drew out his pistol and shot the keypad, fizzing the wires until the door lock released.
Heavy boots echoed behind him, and he turned to find his brothers. Bloody, sooty, and wounded. Sam half-carried Logan.
Logan grimaced. “A couple of wounds and no big deal. I’m healing as we speak.” He eyed the closed doorway warily.
Sam shook his head. “He’s been shot too many times and needs to recuperate. Somewhere safe.” Sam jerked his head toward the stairway. “The outside is cleared.” He pushed Logan against the wall and took a defensive position in front of his brother.
Zane turned and kicked open the door, keeping his body between his family and whatever lay on the other side. Then he stilled.
Felicity rose from a feminine settee and put down a book. As cells went, it had been decorated for royalty. Apparently Suri hadn’t wanted to piss his sister off too badly.
Zane swallowed and felt like a kid again. “Mom?”
She took a deep breath and ran into his opened arms. “Are you all right?” she asked, leaning back to look at him and wiping blood from his chin.
He nodded, unable to speak. Sometimes he forgot how tiny she was, and she’d lost weight during captivity. Long blond hair flowed down her back in contrast to her midnight black eyes. Faint lines of fatigue and worry fanned out from her eyes.
Zane’s heart clenched. “I’m fine. Did they hurt you?”
“No.” Felicity turned with a happy cry and launched herself at first Sam and then Logan, staying clear of his injuries. Finally, she turned to smile at Zane. “I knew you’d find me.”
Her trust humbled him, but she’d have to dig deep to keep it when she heard what he had in mind. He took in his family. “We have to go before Suri’s reinforcements get here.”
Sam nodded and reached for Logan.
Zane slid an arm around his mother’s petite shoulders. “Sam, take Logan to Alaska and have Janie patch him up. She, ah, may be a little angry when you first get there.”
Sam frowned. “Why?”
Zane shrugged. His brothers had been too occupied with the rescue to take notice of him, and that was fine.
Logan grimaced. “We go with you.”
“No.” Zane shook his head. The vampires were pissed, and the smart move would be to take out everybody with him and then torture him for information to find Janie. He didn’t think they’d kill a female, but his brothers would be perfect targets. “Do as I’ve ordered.” He dismissed his brothers and glanced down at his mother.
She studied him as if considering something she couldn’t quite grasp. “I’d like to go face my brother, if you don’t mind.” Her rough voice sounded more like a bar singer’s than a demon’s, but the anger was there.
Zane tightened his hold and kept his gaze level. “I have a different plan.”
Felicity lifted a pale eyebrow. “Which is?”
“How do you feel about meeting the Realm vampires, Mom?” he asked.
Chapter 13
Janie leaned back against the ice pack, her mind furiously running. Zane had marked her. Burned Z’s into her flesh.
Permanently.
While she’d always thought the marking a bit romantic, actually carrying a brand came with a heavy sense of finality. Of ownership.
She carried his mark.
Not the other way around.
What the hell was he doing marking anybody, anyway? The only people who marked their mates were the Ka
yrs family, and that’s because they ruled the vampires and had since the beginning of time. The marking was unique to them, and the burn included a K for their surname. What was Zane doing branding her with a Z?
Just one of many questions pummeling through her head.
Was it possible he’d mated her on purpose? To gain her gifts and preclude her mating anybody else? A part of her scoffed at the idea, but a kernel of insecurity still irritated her like popcorn caught between two teeth. He’d seemed as overtaken as she had been the previous night, but it had been her first time, so what did she know?
Still, a dangerous tingle of happiness threatened to destroy her anger. Zane as her mate. A dream she’d had since she was too little to understand what mating meant. He’d always had her heart, and now she had a chance at his. She’d seen love overcome fate and destiny, and in order to mate, Zane had to love her—at least a little.
She shook her head. Again, she felt the twin bite marks in her neck. A slow shiver wandered down her body. Zane.
He’d better show up and provide some answers.
Standing, she glanced again at the brief note he’d left. They needed to talk? Oh, hell yeah.
The air shimmered by the fireplace. She jumped up and fetched a worn, cast-iron skillet from the stove. If Zane didn’t talk, she was going to brain him. With a lurch of sound, two bodies dropped onto the wooden floor.
She gasped and stepped back, reaching for a knife.
Slowly, the men stood. Green eyes, black hair, familiar features. One was bleeding out all over the rug.
The one with darker eyes smiled. “Hi, Janie, I’m Sam. This is Logan, and we’re Zane’s brothers.”
Janie tightened her hold on the handle. “Where is Zane?”
Logan coughed out, “Meeting with the king of the Realm. Um, do you have a Band-Aid I could borrow?” He groaned and fell onto a chair.
Janie swallowed and studied him. His eyes were lighter and his jaw more square than Zane’s, but there was no doubt they were siblings. The kid looked to be about twenty—Garrett’s age. She plopped the pan onto the table and slid into big-sister mode. She couldn’t allow Zane’s little brother to bleed to death, nor would she let the kid sit there in such pain. At one point, Zane had saved her brother. Now it was time for her to help Logan. “Yes. Let me help.”
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