by A. Vers
“He was young,” Markus finally says into the tension. “Possibly newly transitioned. It is unfortunate your men were not able to salvage the body.”
I glance at Tanner where he leans against the wall across from me. His pale eyes are like stones. “I would not risk one of them, my lord,” I say simply. “Horan saw an opening. He knew to take it.” My second largest regret to Lilah getting hurt is not tearing the newborn vamp to shreds with my hands. But Tanner’s teeth and Caine’s daggers worked just as well.
Markus sighs. “She will recover fine,” he says as he stands. “A few hours of sleep, plenty of fluids ...You know the drill.”
I nod.
His topaz gaze goes around the room to the assembled men. Ones who now refuse to leave. Even Caine seems almost worried. Or he is more silent that usual, with no witty remarks or glorious sarcasm to further ruin my day.
“She will be disoriented when she awakens. Perhaps it would be a good idea to not crowd her,” Markus adds. “May I suggest shifts?”
My lips pull back on a snarl of fangs before I can stop them.
Gage’s earth and leather scent fills my nose a moment before his hand lays over my shoulder. “We would prefer to stay near, my lord,” he says. “At least until she awakens.”
Markus sighs. “I believe, on this, there will be no budging any of you.” We remain silent. “Then you have until she awakens. After that, I expect your team ready to mobilize, Captain.”
I grind my teeth. “Yes, my lord.” For the first time in six years, I hate my job. And I don’t care who knows it.
Markus’ face closes down, and he walks from the room without another word. Before long, the main door closes behind him.
I hate the decorum that goes with my title. The almost human bindings. I want to kill the motherfucker who bit Lilah. Again and again. And it still won’t be enough.
Gage tugs me gently. “Come on, Cap. Let her rest.”
Begrudgingly, I follow him out into the main room. The others take up posts wherever a space is available as I drop into my old recliner next to the bedroom door.
“We need to trace the charm,” Tanner says. “I’ve been thinking about that other scent since I caught it. Where has she been all day?”
I scrub my face. “I found her at Underground. She was supposed to start working there in a few hours.”
“Well, Raina wouldn’t do it. Not if she thought it would hurt her,” Tanner mutters. “They seem to be thicker than thieves already.”
“Larry was there,” I mutter. “But what motive does he have?”
“With or without motive,” Tanner says, “he is what we got so far.”
“Especially since there was nothing at Carnage,” Gage adds. “I checked. Hell, the only reason we didn’t pick up on the charm sooner is because I never thought to search either of you.”
I wave off his words. “My perception has been skewed since she showed up. It’s not your fault.”
“Perhaps if you bedded her, it wouldn’t be so bad.” My head whips up, expecting Caine’s crass voice. Horan stares back at me, arms crossed and his square jaw firm. He holds up a hand. “Your attention is divided, Cap. We can all see it.”
The others shift.
My teeth gnash. “And when do you think I should seduce her, Horan?” I ask, voice cold. “Now? While she remains unconscious because of an attack on my watch? Or when she is fully awake and the terror of what I am really sets in?”
His gold eyes flash, but he remains silent.
“It was a vampire that bit her, or did you forget that part?” I ask. “No foreplay or sex to temper the pain my kind can cause. Nothing but a violent tearing of her flesh.” I soar to my feet, rage spiraling into something dark inside me. Or maybe awakening what was already there. “Any interest she may have had ... It’s gone now.”
I pace in agitated loops in front of my chair as the quiet grows.
“It was not merely your fault, Captain.” Caine’s voice is soft. Empty. “We all are to blame for her injury.”
I look at him.
He walks over and lays a hand on my shoulder. “If she blames you alone, then whatever was between you, it was not what you thought.” He squeezes once and pushes around me, closing the door calmly behind him.
30
Lilah
MY EYES FLUTTER OPEN on a familiar dark room. I try to turn, but my limbs are heavy and a sharp pain beats in my neck. I raise a hand and feather it over a square of gauze taped to my skin. The wound twinges. “Ouch.”
Pulling away, I scan Ruin’s four-poster bed and drink in spice and leather as I sit up. The fragrances are masculine and soothing. And considering the panic attack lurking, it’s needed.
Soft voices filter through a set of sliding opaque doors across from the big four poster. And I smirk as the numerous familiar cadences register.
Really? All of them?
Climbing to my feet, I stumble and crash into the wall with a jarring pain to my shoulder. The doors fly wide and Ruin fills the frame, Tanner and Gage tight on his heels.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Ruin demands. He flits over, his body a blur, to snare me about the waist and tuck me back under the blanket. Though his motions are swift, every touch is unbelievably gentle.
“I heard you guys talking,” I say, staring up at him as he carefully presses the thick bedspread around me. Mummy style.
His dark eyes are unfathomable, almost empty. I pull my arm out and grip the cool line of his cheek. He stills.
“Hey,” I say. He looks at me, lips tight together. “What’s wrong?”
He pulls away slowly. “Nothing.”
I snort. “Sure.” His brows knit, but he remains quiet and he won’t meet my eyes. “How long was I out?”
“A few hours,” Tanner says.
“Time, beast boy?”
“A quarter to six,” Gage calls over the shifter’s sputtering.
I groan loudly. “Fuck, I’m late.”
“Language, Lilah.” I peer around Ruin’s impassive frame to find Horan with a sour expression on his face.
“Look, Mom,” I say and the others snicker, “not that I don’t appreciate the care ...” I push the blanket off me, “But I have a job to get to.”
Ruin lays a hand on my shoulder, keeping me down. My eyes roll up to him. “You need to rest,” he says at my brow arch.
“You can remove your hand on your own,” I say sweetly, “or I can remove it for you.”
He blinks.
Leaning forward, I grab his belt loop and pull. His hands disappear. Quickly.
I smile, but it’s not happy. All the progress from before is gone, and we are back where we started. “That’s what I thought.” I climb to my feet, slower this time, and remain upright with no extra support. My blouse barely covers the tops of my thighs, but there is little else I can do about it. Besides, they all saw the rest at the damn lake. But I can’t exactly walk through the house like this.
I look at Ruin. “Got any sweatpants I can borrow?”
I SLIP INTO A PAIR of cut-off jean shorts, the pockets blessedly empty of enchanted bits of metal. My tank top is blood-red and cut high in a wide halter band. Though I changed the gauze to a big ass band-aid, the tan strip is still visible if you look hard enough.
My sigh is heavy. All the times I read vampire novels, none of the bites ever hurt this bad.
Then again, the women’s throats weren’t almost torn out either.
My stomach wants to protest it. Not just the violence, but the notion that a vampire bite isn’t what I always expected. But I shove it all down in the little Pandora’s box in my head. Along with Vic’s betrayal, and my parent’s death.
Grabbing a pair of worn, but comfortable cowgirl boots, I step out into the bedroom.
Ruin sits on my bed, his head in his hands. He looks up, those dark eyes trailing from my bare feet to the collar of my shirt. “I thought Underground has a dress code?” he asks.
I snort. “If I
was waitressing, yeah. But I’m the bartender. And I make more tips when I look good.”
Something flows through his gaze. “Oh.” He stares at me, his expression carefully blank.
“Can you toss me those socks beside you?” I ask.
He blinks and turns to grab them. They sail into my waiting hands, and I slip them on before tugging on my boots. The silence in the room grows. When I pivot to grab my cell phone off the nightstand, I crash into Ruin’s hard body. My eyes roll from his chest to the rigid line of his jaw.
“Ruin?”
His fingers flow over my bare arm, up to my shoulder, and higher to gently tug at the edge of my collar. He pulls my hair into place and steps back before walking around me.
I grab him. “Stop,” I command. “You’ve said less than twenty words to me since I woke up. What’s wrong?”
He gives me a look.
My cheeks heat. “Oh.”
His head inclines sarcastically. “Yeah, oh.” He pulls away.
I lunge, fingers closing over the sculpted muscle of his bicep. Holy fuck, he’s ripped. I shake my head. “Ruin. It wasn’t your–”
“Don’t say it, Lilah.” He glares at me over his shoulder. This time when he wrenches away, I let him go. “It was my fault. I should have never let you come with us.”
My hands press to my hips. “You didn’t let me do anything.”
His eyes glitter. “Oh really?” he asks. “Do you think you would have gotten out there if I hadn’t agreed to let you come?”
He walks closer, prowling over the plush grey carpet. Though the black skull shirt is gone, the black cut-off tank he wears is better. It frames his powerful upper body like a glove. One I want to peel off.
“You have no control over what I do, Ruin,” I say, trying for calm, but my voice comes out lower than normal as his scent hits me with force.
He stalks me, pressing me back. “Is that so?”
I stare up at him, heart hammering like a trapped thing in my chest. “Yeah. It is.” My spine presses into the wall, and I gasp. He bears down on me.
His hands alight on each side of my head and he leans down, so close his breath is warm over my face. “I could cuff you to the bed and put guards on you until I have this solved.” My lips part. He locks on the movement, the first hint of gold spiraling into his irises. “Hell, I’ll make sure it’s my bed.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I breathe.
He smiles, flashing twin fangs. I wait for the unease, the fear. Especially after earlier. It never comes. “Oh, I dare,” he says. His eyes close and he inhales. “I can smell your blood on your skin. Even after the showers.”
My pulse skips.
“And?” I ask, palms tight to the wall. Anything to keep from hauling him to me.
He shivers. “And I want it,” he whispers. “I can taste you, Lilah. You’re on my tongue and in my head. I can’t fucking function past wanting to–”
“Fuck me?” I ask. “Bleed me?”
His eyes fly wide, color rising into his face. “What I want from you is more than a casual fuck.” There is a starkness to his words that makes me inhale. “I want to be in you so far, you can never get me out. I want my scent all over you and my blood in your veins and yours in mine. I want to fucking own you, woman. Lock, stock, and fucking barrel. Mine.”
Holy shit.
He wants me. As much as I want him.
A thrill goes through my body, deep, deep down.
Own is never a word that I expected to hear in such a gravelly, hard tone, with such a profound meaning. Nor did I ever expect my body to react to it with such an ache. But the way he says it is different. Like the sword cuts both ways and he would be mine just as much as I would be his.
“No one owns me, Ruin. No one but me. “ My voice is surprisingly firm, but calm.
He leans down further, curling his body around mine. His heat leaves me arching up, trying to press against him. His head dips down and those silken lips caress over my bare shoulder. It’s all the permission I need as my hands lock around him, trying to hold him to me and keep him there.
“Really?” he murmurs against my skin. “No one?”
My throat works as I attempt to swallow past my raging pulse. He nips me gently, playfully. My thighs clench on a wave of heat. “No one,” I pant.
A low rumble pours from him. His hands find my ass, sliding me up the wall. My face reaches level with his and he squeezes hard. I whimper in his hold. My ankles lock around his hips, pressing us together on instinct as the small pain turns to something more.
He’s like marble against me, solid and heating rapidly. His mouth works over my skin, trailing with teasing strokes from my shoulder to my neck. I grab his hair. He growls and it goes through me like a tuning fork.
“Ruin.”
His lips close over mine, silencing the sound of his name. I moan into that press. Revel in it. He swipes his tongue over my bottom lip and I open, letting him devour me with a passion that blasts away every tryst I’ve ever had in my shorter life.
One hand flows across my ribs to rub his thumb just along the underside of my breast. My spine bows, needing him higher. Closer, closer ...
He grips my thigh, and his hand slides up, kneading and stroking my ass again and again until I arch and squirm against him.
The rigid length of his body makes my eyes flutter as it ghosts over me through the denim between us.
God.
“Fuck, Lilah,” he hisses. His hips grind into me.
I bite his lower lip as the pressure of his body sends little arcs of pleasure through me. “Ruin ...” I plead, core aching. I’m damn near weeping for him. Begging him to take.
Never mind that I just got dressed. Or that I have to be at work in thirty minutes. I want this. Hell, I want him.
Now.
The door opens loudly. “Hey guys. We need to–”
Ruin drops me to my feet as my face flames. His big body steps in front of mine, shielding me as I pull down my shirt.
Tanner stands in the doorway, gaze averted and rubbing the back of his neck. “Fuck. Sorry,” he mutters and walks back out.
The door closes and I stare at it.
Blood pools between my thighs until my teeth grit with the ache. One I desperately want this vampire to relieve. Right damn now .
Ruin shifts and adjusts the front of his jeans. He inhales shakily next to me and blows out a long breath before some of the tension leaves his frame. “Finish getting ready. I’m just outside.” He peers down at me once before following his friend from the room.
I lean against the wall, chest heaving. My palm presses over the erratic beat of my heart as my lips tingle, and my body bemoans the loss of his heat.
‘What I want from you is more than a casual fuck... I want to fucking own you.’
I shiver.
Wonder if Raina would let me call in sick, after all?
31
Ruin
FROM MY PLACE IN THE shadows, Underground is to capacity. And the gorgeous brunette behind the counter may be to blame.
Lilah sashays and tosses smiles at every person that approaches the bar. Her surprisingly good mood appears infectious. She hands out new drinks and refills with the ease of someone who could do it in their sleep. And the clear vase at the end of the counter grows greener by the second with tips.
Raina beams next to me. “She’s a babe.”
I huff.
No fucking shit.
I’m not the only one entranced by her, either. Half the men and quite a few women watch her move. Raina included. Is it the smooth expanse of her midsection under her blood-red halter? Those thick legs in her shorts? Or the bandage glaring at me from her slim neck?
My hands curl into fists, fists that ache to break bones.
And at the top of my shit list is a certain fashionably late druid.
“What are you going to do if Larry doesn’t magick his ass back here?” I ask.
Raina glances at me, brows
furrowed. “Something. Not sure what. But people come to Underground for the show. So, we will give them one. One way or another.” She pats me on the arm and slips off.
Tanner edges closer out of my peripheral, his irises gleaming.
“No sign?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
He shakes his head. “We’ve combed the club and outlying properties. After getting his tag and license info, I have Lock Lake PD on an APB. If the druid is still in town, he’s hiding pretty damn well.”
I swear.
“You know this means he dropped her the charm, right?”
“Seems so,” I say. “I just can’t figure out why.”
“You think Vlad got to him?”
My head tilts. “Maybe.”
T leans back next to me, one booted heel propped on the wall. We stand in silence, watching the room and the woman behind the bar.
His unintentional barging earlier did what it needed to do. It put the brakes on my libido.
I was one more scalding press from ripping Lilah’s shorts from her flesh and taking her against the wall. Charm or no charm.
And she won’t stop me, that is very obvious now. Twice she has melted into me. Even after that fucking vamp ripped her throat, she still wants me. And it’s all I can do to keep from taking what will be mine.
“Captain.” Gage’s voice fills the com in my ear.
I depress the line. “Yeah?”
Silence, and then a heavy sigh. “We didn’t find the druid, but PD called in a break-in at Carnage.”
Tanner looks at me. “Shit,” he mutters, having caught every word with his heightened hearing.
“And Cap ...” Gage grows silent for a minute. “You’re going to want to look at this.”
I STARE AT THE DARK-haired woman stretched across the dais of the VIP. Though her clothes are still in place, a bite mark mars the column of her neck. And I doubt it’s a coincidence that it is in the same place as the one on Lilah’s neck. Or the waitress’.
The previously ruby carpet is black with her blood, and the room reeks like a charnel house. But that could be thanks to the dripping message smeared across the back wall: