Unleashed Fury (N.J. Walters)

by Entangled Publishing, LLC

  And Maccus had been jealous. Of the vampire. It had confused her at first. Then a sense of wonder had settled over her. That had to mean he had some feelings for her, beyond just the sexual chemistry between them. Didn’t it?

  Maybe she was spinning dreams that could never manifest, but so what? What was the alternative? Sit and fret? Cry and scream at the universe? Cower? None of those were options.

  No matter what went down, she’d slug it out to the very end. But now she was fighting for someone else, too—Maccus. They wanted to hurt him, and they were using her to do it.

  When she glanced up, he was watching her. “What?” he asked. It was amazing how quickly she’d gotten used to his abruptness. Where she’d found it off-putting at first, now it was simply part of who he was.

  “Do you think—” She broke off, not quite sure how to phrase this.

  “Do I think what?”

  “Us, the chemistry, the connection, do you think they planned this somehow?” No need to say who. No need to utter their names aloud and maybe manifest them.

  They crossed the road to his building. “Damned if I know.”

  Not what she hoped to hear, but realistic.

  “The sexual chemistry, maybe.”

  Okay, she could deal with that. “The rest?”

  He kept on walking without answering. They stayed silent until they entered his apartment. When the elevator doors slid shut, locking them into the protective haven, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea if the warding symbols painted in blood on his walls would truly work against those beings with real power, but the tension she’d carried from the time they left slowly slipped away.

  The doors were barely shut when he spun her around, shoved her back against the door, and kissed her. Like the warrior he was, he plundered her mouth, taking what he wanted.

  All the stress from the bar and the subsequent battle, all the adrenaline and worry channeled itself into something positive and life-affirming—passion. It was a natural reaction to give the volatile emotions an outlet.

  But only with Maccus. Any other male and she’d have left him. Even Asher, pretty as he was, didn’t move her as her dark warrior did.

  He grabbed her hands and raised them over her head, trapping them against the metal panel. The first time she’d stepped inside his home, she would have fought such possession; now she reveled in it.

  She kissed him back, her tongue dueling madly with his before she nipped on his bottom lip. Her skin tingled, her breasts ached, and the sensitive place between her legs throbbed. She couldn’t touch him with her hands, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have other options. Using his hold on her as leverage, she pushed up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

  That brought her mound in perfect alignment with his erection. She took immediate advantage and rubbed herself against him. Heat poured off his big body, seeping through her clothes. “Yes.” It didn’t matter that she couldn’t catch her breath. Who needed to breathe, anyway?

  Then her hands were free. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tilted his head to get just the right position. Perfect. His passion tasted like shadows and desperation. She ate it up and went back for more.

  He rocked his hips against her pelvis, driving them both closer to the edge.

  Pulling away, she gasped for air. That didn’t stop him. He left a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, pausing halfway to bite. Not hard enough to break the skin, but certainly enough to leave a mark.

  Maybe this wasn’t smart, but she didn’t care. Life was fleeting, and hers would soon be over unless she came up with some kind of miracle.

  “Look at me.” With her chin caught in his hand, he gave her no choice.

  Not that it was a hardship. His eyes were fathomless, bottomless wells of darkness that drew her. Soft like a dark cloud some moments and hard as obsidian the next. When she looked deeper, moving beyond the superficial, it was like peering into his soul.

  She feared he was doing the same with her.

  There were such depths of shadows they seemed to swallow her. It would have been claustrophobic if not for the faintest glimmer of light. It was far away, but she gravitated toward it. It kept moving, always out of reach, growing dimmer. The light couldn’t afford to go out. Maccus would no longer be him if it did. She didn’t question the knowledge.

  Then he blinked, and the connection was lost.

  Lightheaded, her vision dimmed. She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings. The hard elevator door was still at her back. Maccus was pressed against her front. Beneath her clothes, she was fully aroused. And so was he. His erection pushed against her core.

  “What just happened?” Because something powerful had just occurred.

  Maccus shrugged and took a step away, forcing her to let go and allow her legs to fall away from him. There was only a foot between them, but it seemed like a chasm, like the Grand Canyon.

  “We didn’t get to the art showing.” His statement came from left field, jolting her and shoving aside some of the sexual arousal swamping her.

  How had she forgotten about seeing her sister? Kayley needed to be her priority. That and figuring out how to save herself. Had her sister had lied to her?

  Maybe it was pointless to see Kayley, but she needed the truth. Even more, she deserved it.

  He waited silently for some kind of sign. She wasn’t sure what, but she wasn’t ready to walk away from what they had between them. The devil or an angel might have put them together, but the heat, the passion was all them.

  She refused to believe otherwise.

  The sexual attraction between them was a hum in the air, a magnetic pull that drew her, urged her to rub herself against him, to use him to ease the ache deep inside.

  “Why did you stop?” She was curious. Even now, his pupils were dilated, his cock a hard bulge in his pants, and he was breathing heavily. Had he seen into her very being the same way she’d seen into his?

  If so, what had he seen?

  Had their lives always been meant to intersect, or was it nothing more than chance? She’d like to believe it was intentional. If so, there was a reason. And it wasn’t so they could lose their lives in whatever game Lucifer and Gabriel were playing.

  Their connection was important. It was a certainty that rang true deep in her soul. Allowing a chasm to open between them wasn’t an option. It might seem to be the wiser course of action, but she trusted her gut.

  If her sister had set her up and betrayed her, then maybe she couldn’t depend on her instincts. But she’d honed them to a razor’s edge this past decade, along with her fighting skills and her will to live. And right now, they were all she had.

  Maccus still hadn’t answered her. He was so stoic. So alone. More like the man she’d first encountered. Maybe the difference in him had mostly been in her mind, but she didn’t think so.

  “No matter what happens,” she told him as she ran her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders, “I’ll never regret this.” Going up on her toes, she kissed his chin. “They can’t taint this if we don’t let them.”

  His gaze narrowed, and his eyes flashed red before returning to their normal black, a man at war with himself, fighting to retain his soul. They were engaged in the same battle, combatants in the same war.

  That he’d done it for thousands upon thousands of years left her in awe.

  When he made no move to take things further, she took a step back and slid her coat off, letting it fall to the floor.

  Got your attention now, don’t I?

  With every item that followed, his breathing deepened, his chest expanding and contracting heavily.

  Her nipples tightened, and arousal had her skin flushed, but she didn’t back down, didn’t back away.

  It seemed to take forever for her to finally slip off the last piece of clothing. I
n reality, it only took seconds. Naked, she walked toward the bedroom, putting extra sway in her hips. “I’ll be in bed.”

  Talk about making herself vulnerable.

  She honestly had no idea if he’d join her but wouldn’t take it as rejection or failure if he didn’t. Something was going on inside him. Something she didn’t fully understand. Whatever it was, she was determined to defeat it.

  There was no sound to announce his presence, but she knew when he fell into step behind her. Without warning, he picked her up, carried her the final few steps, and tossed her onto the giant bed. She bounced once and flipped over so she could see him.

  He was already half naked. She drank in the sight of him, his broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and rippling biceps. When he stripped off his pants, she licked her lips in anticipation. His erection was hard and long and thick. Her core pulsed in anticipation.

  A low rumble came from deep in his chest as he kicked away the last of his clothes and joined her.

  “There’s only you and me in this bed,” she told him. “No one else. Nothing else.” Lucifer, Gabriel, her sister, none of them belonged in here with them.

  “Only us,” he agreed. He crawled on top of her, spread her legs wide, and pushed his cock inside. There was no need for foreplay. The entire evening had been leading them to this. She opened for him and moaned as he stretched her, filled her.

  With their eyes locked, he thrust hard and fast.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maccus stared up at the ceiling, drained both physically and mentally. He’d lost count of how many times he’d fucked Morrigan. Each time he’d told himself to go more slowly, to be gentle. Each time he’d failed.

  No one could call him a considerate lover at the best of times. He made sure his partner came, but he’d never driven a woman as long and hard as he had Morrigan. And she’d proved more than his equal, meeting him stroke for stroke, gripping his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his skin.

  No matter what he’d done, what he’d asked of her, she’d welcomed him. He’d never had a more perfect lover.

  How was he supposed to give her up?

  They weren’t only compatible in bed but outside it as well.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Her voice was groggy. Her head rested on his shoulder and one leg was bent and thrown over his thighs, so she was partially covering him. It seemed natural and right to hold her like this.

  Again it marked her difference. All past sexual encounters had taken place outside his home. She was the only woman he’d ever had in his bed. Usually, it was him getting up to leave while his sex partner slumbered in their own home or at some hotel.

  When she pushed upright, the covers slithered down, leaving her upper body bare. His cock stirred.

  She blinked several times, reminding him of a curious owl. Her hair was damp and stood up in short tufts in places. A lock was stuck right in the center of her forehead, so he brushed it aside. Her skin was dewy, her lips swollen.

  The damn woman was making him downright poetic. He was much better at killing things, preferred it. It was easier.

  “Now you’re thinking too loudly,” she complained.

  He almost smiled, and he never smiled. “Sorry.” Not really. He’d been watching her sleep. Wouldn’t have woken her, but he was glad she was awake.

  The corners of her lips tilted up in a smile. His chest expanded as he took a breath.

  “No, you’re not.” She shoved her fingers through her hair, yawned, and rolled onto her back. He followed, turning onto his side and propping his head up on one hand so he could stare down at her.

  “No, I’m not,” he agreed.

  She laughed and shook her head. “An honest man. I didn’t think there was such a thing.”

  “I’ll never lie to you,” he promised. It might hurt them both, but he’d always tell her the truth.

  “I know.” Her chin dipped, and her eyes slid away from him. “Sometimes I wish you would, but I’m glad you don’t.”

  He didn’t like seeing her this way—defeated and uncertain. Not the confident hunter and woman who tempted him at every turn. “Tell me about yourself.” The request was twofold. It would distract her from her worrisome thoughts and also allow him to learn more about her.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Something. Anything.” He’d treasure any little memory, no matter how mundane. Digging through his memories, he replayed everything she’d already told him. “You mentioned college.”

  She sighed and tugged on the sheets. It was almost a crime to hide her breasts, but he didn’t pull the covering away, otherwise, they’d end up fucking rather than talking.

  “Yeah, I’d been working as a waitress and janitor, but I told you that. I’m not sure what I would have done. I was saving for school. I’d planned to maybe become a teacher. I love books, but a degree in English is pretty useless these days unless you plan to become a teacher.” She paused. “Or a writer.” She picked at a thread on the sheet.

  He jumped on that tidbit. “Did you write?”

  She waved her hand as if to wipe out his words. “I wasn’t very good.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t have time to write much.”

  “Who?” he demanded.

  “I showed a story to Kayley once.”

  Morrigan’s sister was a lying bitch. Tension radiated from her, as though she was waiting for him to comment. It just about killed him, but he kept his silence.

  “What about teachers?” He knew very little about the modern school system, other than it incarcerated children for years in institutions of so-called higher learning. As far as he could tell, their purpose was mostly to kill any original thinking so that they’d fall in line with the current system, put their heads down, and work until they died without question.

  Not that he was in any position to look down on them. He’d done much the same thing in Heaven, following orders, believing in the greater good, until the person he’d trusted and believed in had turned on him.

  She gave a quick shrug and smoothed down the sheet. “A couple of teachers said I had potential.”

  There was a hint of hope, of pride buried beneath the uncertainty.

  He grazed his fingers up and down her arm, enthralled by the way goose bumps rose on her skin and the slight tremble of her body.

  Can’t fuck her again. Need to give her time.

  Now it was he who needed the distraction. “What else?”

  “Why do you care?”

  He had no idea. This was a first for him. It was his turn to shrug.

  The silence grew. Figuring she’d finished sharing, he was just about the roll out of bed when she spoke again. “I miss simple things, like a walk in the park on a summer’s day enjoying an ice cream, and the innocence of not knowing that demons walk among us. What about you?” She traced a finger over the haladie inked on his arm. The weapon rose slightly from his flesh to let her stroke it. “Tell me something about you? It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just something.”

  Information was power, and he guarded it closely. Not much was known about his life or abilities, and he liked it that way. But if he expected her to share, he had to give her something.

  “I had a dog.”

  “Really?” Pushing herself up, she sat tailor-style beside him.

  He was as shocked as she seemed. He’d never told anyone about his companion.

  The curse of living so long was that memories often became murky or simply lost to the mists of time. But some remained vivid, no matter how much time had passed. “It was back in the eighteen hundreds, maybe the seventeen.” He’d stopped keeping track for a while.

  “What kind of dog was it?”

  “Demon wasn’t a pet. He was a companion. A wolfhound.” Massive in stature with thi
ck fur as black as midnight, the animal had been feared by all who saw him. In that, they’d been alike. They’d been kindred spirits, sharing their lives for a time.

  “I can picture that.” She rested her hand on his knee. “What was Demon like? And great name, by the way.”

  “Intelligent. Dependable. Loyal.” All the things he’d hadn’t gotten from his friend. The dog had given him something to focus on besides his worries. “He died.” Leaving Maccus alone once again and grieving.

  He’d never had another.

  “I’m sorry, but at least you had Demon in your life and have the memories.”

  “Is that better?” Pain was something he lived with daily. There was no need for him to actively court it. But wasn’t that exactly what he was doing with Morrigan?

  “Yes.” Her voice was firm and filled with conviction as she placed her hand over his heart. “If we don’t have them, we have nothing to hang on to during tough times.”

  “Give me one of yours.” What did she consider a good memory?

  “This moment, right here, right now, with you.” A light red stained her cheeks, and she glanced away.

  Taken aback, he inhaled sharply, his chest expanding. She considered him a good memory. He’d never been anyone’s good anything before.

  Lie or truth?

  The intensity was too much, so he rolled out of bed and dragged on his pants before hunting up a clean shirt. “I’m going to make something to eat.”

  “Sure. Sounds good.”

  Fuck, he was doing it again, retreating like some coward. He went back to where she was still sitting and caught her chin in his hand. “I never had anything good before.” Not like this.

  She nodded her acceptance, not asking for anything in return. Her bravery astounded him, even as he swallowed his ire to keep from yelling at her to have some sense of self-preservation.

  “Until now.” His voice was rough, the words forced past his lips, and he was frowning. Most people would run from him.

  She simply met his gaze and gave him a small smile.

  Dropping his hand, he walked away. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” He needed some distance, some space to start repairing his defenses. They’d stood impenetrable for years and were now crumbling at the edges.