Darkness Avenged
Page 41
Abruptly something inside her broke and to her utter humiliation she burst into tears.
“You . . . bastard.”
Apparently as shocked as she was by her emotional meltdown, Roke slid her off his shoulder so she was standing directly in front of him.
“Sssh,” he muttered, frowning as his thumbs brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She sniffed, telling herself that she wasn’t comforted by his gentle touch.
He was a . . . a . . . cold-blooded leech.
“You already have,” she muttered.
“Me?” He appeared ridiculously outraged by her accusation. “What have I done?”
Was he serious? She lifted her arm to reveal the strange rash on her inner arm.
“This, for one thing.”
His jaw tightened, as if angered by her reminder of the crimson mark. “Don’t blame me. That’s entirely your fault.” He lifted his own arm, pushing back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching rash.
“I don’t . . .” Her words faltered. Wait. How could he have the same exact rash as her? Was it some side effect from her powers? She hadn’t heard of anything like it. All right, there was the brand between mated vampires that was supposed to be some sort of red tattoo, but it couldn’t be that. Impossible. Abruptly she remembered his fury as he’d ripped off his jacket and her heart stuttered to a painful halt. “Oh crap. Is that . . .”
“A mating mark,” he assured her in icy tones.
She shook her head, stumbling backward as her brain refused to accept what he was saying.
“How’s that possible? I thought leeches had to exchange blood to become bonded.” She unconsciously ran her fingers over the markings on her arm, as if she could rub them away. “Not to mention lack the homicidal urge to murder each other.”
He curled back his lips to reveal his fully extended fangs. Yep. Definitely murder on his mind.
“Obviously your spell triggered the mating instinct.”
She shivered. Mating instinct. It was primitive. Uncivilized.
And not at all a reason for her stomach to flutter as if she were . . .
Excited?
No. Way.
“I don’t care how it happened,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Just get rid of it.”
He lifted a dark brow, his pale eyes reflecting the overhead light. “And how would you suggest I do that?”
“I . . .” She licked her dry lips.
“Yes?”
She wrapped her arms around her body, which continued to shake with uncontrollable tremors. “How do vampires break the bond?”
“They don’t.” He held her wary gaze, his expression grim. “A mating is for eternity.”
“But this isn’t a real mating.”
“Isn’t it?”
She frowned. Was this some sort of trick? Did he think she’d intentionally tried to trap them together? “Of course not.”
“You can’t feel me deep inside you?” His voice thickened, his fingers lightly touching the narrow valley between her breasts. “Here.”
An erotic burst of heat speared through her at his touch. A heat that was nearly as shocking as the realization he was right.
She could feel him.
His burning frustration. His barely leashed fury.
His unwanted arousal.
She’d tried to tell herself that the sensations were just an echo of the spell that had bound them together.
That it would quickly fade.
But the words rang hollow.
He was . . . a part of her.
“Roke,” she breathed, her heart skipping a beat as he turned smoothly toward the far door.
“Styx is coming.”
His muttered words had barely left his lips when the door to the dungeon was flung open with enough force to make the hinges squeak in protest.
A bare second later the six-foot-five Aztec warrior entered the dungeons, bringing with him an icy tidal wave of power.
As far as entrances went, this one was a doozy, and Sally instinctively stepped backward, pressing herself against Roke, as if he were a safe harbor in the midst of a gathering hurricane.
“What the hell is going on?” the Anasso roared, the lights flickering in and out to create an unnerving strobe effect.
“Sally, look at me,” Roke commanded in a low voice, grasping her chin to force her to meet his shimmering gaze.
She struggled to breath, suddenly so cold her teeth were chattering. “I’ll take a wild stab and say he’s pissed,” she managed to mutter.
He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, an oddly possessive expression tightening his lean features. “Not nearly as pissed as I’m going to be if you try to use your powers on him,” he rasped. “In fact, you can consider that particular skill off-line for the foreseeable future.”
Her fear remained. Full-scale. She was trapped between two angry vampires. There wasn’t a witch alive who wouldn’t be frightened out of her mind.
But she was female enough to be annoyed by his blatant command. “You’re not the boss of me.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze searing a path over her stubborn expression. “Don’t push this, witch.”
“I . . .” She became lost in the compelling beauty of his eyes, her annoyance floundering as she felt his fierce tension. This wasn’t just a male need to toss out orders. It . . . mattered to him. “Trust me, I never intend to use it again,” she at last conceded.
“Good,” he growled. “Because if you try to bond with another man, I’ll . . .”
She scowled. “You’ll what?”
Without warning he grabbed her face and kissed her with a raw yearning that she felt to the tips of her toes.
Holy shit.
“You’re making me nuts,” he muttered against her lips.
She clutched at his leather jacket, her knees stupidly weak. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”
“Roke,” a dark, frigid voice broke into their brief moment of madness. “Am I intruding?”
Releasing his hold on her, Roke turned to face his king, angling his body so she was half shielded behind him.
Sally blinked in surprise. He couldn’t feel a need to protect her. Could he?
“I thought you went to speak with the Oracles?” Roke said to the towering vampire who was regarding him with a narrowed glare.
“They refused to see me.” He folded his arms over his massive chest, testing the limits of endurance for the black T-shirt that was matched with a pair of black leather pants and heavy boots. “Which meant I wasn’t in the mood to return to my lair and discover I’ve been harboring a traitor.”
Sally went rigid at the accusation. “He’s not a traitor,” she blurted out before she could halt the words.
“No?” The King of Vampires turned his alarming attention in her direction. “My guards informed me that Roke took you from this cell against my strict orders, and then with the excuse he was taking you to meet with me, he assisted in your escape.”
“Only because I forced him.”
Styx stepped forward, emphasizing her distinct lack of stature. “You?”
“Yes.” Her chin tilted even as her brain screamed to shut her mouth. Unfortunately, the two weren’t currently connected. “I’m not completely helpless. And, as you see, he brought me back.”
Styx studied her for a long, nerve-wracking minute. “Such a fierce defense of your captor,” he at last murmured.
“I’m not defending him.” She hunched a shoulder, well aware she sounded like an idiot. Crap. Could she blame it on the mating? Obviously it was destroying what few brain cells she had left. “I’m just . . . explaining.”
“Styx.” With a fluid movement, Roke was shifting to stand at Styx’s side, as if he were trying to distract the large vampire from Sally. “I need to speak with you in private.”
She frowned, pretending she didn’t notice her treacherous flare of warmth at Roke’s protective gesture. Instead she sent him a warning scowl.
She’d be damned if she’d be abandoned alone in this dungeon.
Not again.
“Hey, you’re not leaving me here.”
Styx started to offer a condescending smile at her sharp words only to freeze as his gaze caught sight of the markings on her inner arm. “Christ,” he rasped. “Roke, what have you done?”
The Anasso reached to grab her arm, but without warning Roke was slamming into the larger vampire, pinning him to the bars of the nearest cell.
“Don’t touch her,” he growled.
A deathly silence filled the dungeon. A silence even more shocking after the unexpected flurry of violence.
Sally didn’t dare breathe as the two powerful demons glared at one another. Then, curling back his lips to display his enormous fangs, Styx spoke in low, commanding tones.
“Release me, brother.” Enough power filled the air to send Roke stumbling backward. “Now!”
Roke rammed his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack under the strain.
“You . . . bastard.”
Apparently as shocked as she was by her emotional meltdown, Roke slid her off his shoulder so she was standing directly in front of him.
“Sssh,” he muttered, frowning as his thumbs brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She sniffed, telling herself that she wasn’t comforted by his gentle touch.
He was a . . . a . . . cold-blooded leech.
“You already have,” she muttered.
“Me?” He appeared ridiculously outraged by her accusation. “What have I done?”
Was he serious? She lifted her arm to reveal the strange rash on her inner arm.
“This, for one thing.”
His jaw tightened, as if angered by her reminder of the crimson mark. “Don’t blame me. That’s entirely your fault.” He lifted his own arm, pushing back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching rash.
“I don’t . . .” Her words faltered. Wait. How could he have the same exact rash as her? Was it some side effect from her powers? She hadn’t heard of anything like it. All right, there was the brand between mated vampires that was supposed to be some sort of red tattoo, but it couldn’t be that. Impossible. Abruptly she remembered his fury as he’d ripped off his jacket and her heart stuttered to a painful halt. “Oh crap. Is that . . .”
“A mating mark,” he assured her in icy tones.
She shook her head, stumbling backward as her brain refused to accept what he was saying.
“How’s that possible? I thought leeches had to exchange blood to become bonded.” She unconsciously ran her fingers over the markings on her arm, as if she could rub them away. “Not to mention lack the homicidal urge to murder each other.”
He curled back his lips to reveal his fully extended fangs. Yep. Definitely murder on his mind.
“Obviously your spell triggered the mating instinct.”
She shivered. Mating instinct. It was primitive. Uncivilized.
And not at all a reason for her stomach to flutter as if she were . . .
Excited?
No. Way.
“I don’t care how it happened,” she said, an edge of panic in her voice. “Just get rid of it.”
He lifted a dark brow, his pale eyes reflecting the overhead light. “And how would you suggest I do that?”
“I . . .” She licked her dry lips.
“Yes?”
She wrapped her arms around her body, which continued to shake with uncontrollable tremors. “How do vampires break the bond?”
“They don’t.” He held her wary gaze, his expression grim. “A mating is for eternity.”
“But this isn’t a real mating.”
“Isn’t it?”
She frowned. Was this some sort of trick? Did he think she’d intentionally tried to trap them together? “Of course not.”
“You can’t feel me deep inside you?” His voice thickened, his fingers lightly touching the narrow valley between her breasts. “Here.”
An erotic burst of heat speared through her at his touch. A heat that was nearly as shocking as the realization he was right.
She could feel him.
His burning frustration. His barely leashed fury.
His unwanted arousal.
She’d tried to tell herself that the sensations were just an echo of the spell that had bound them together.
That it would quickly fade.
But the words rang hollow.
He was . . . a part of her.
“Roke,” she breathed, her heart skipping a beat as he turned smoothly toward the far door.
“Styx is coming.”
His muttered words had barely left his lips when the door to the dungeon was flung open with enough force to make the hinges squeak in protest.
A bare second later the six-foot-five Aztec warrior entered the dungeons, bringing with him an icy tidal wave of power.
As far as entrances went, this one was a doozy, and Sally instinctively stepped backward, pressing herself against Roke, as if he were a safe harbor in the midst of a gathering hurricane.
“What the hell is going on?” the Anasso roared, the lights flickering in and out to create an unnerving strobe effect.
“Sally, look at me,” Roke commanded in a low voice, grasping her chin to force her to meet his shimmering gaze.
She struggled to breath, suddenly so cold her teeth were chattering. “I’ll take a wild stab and say he’s pissed,” she managed to mutter.
He leaned down until their noses were nearly touching, an oddly possessive expression tightening his lean features. “Not nearly as pissed as I’m going to be if you try to use your powers on him,” he rasped. “In fact, you can consider that particular skill off-line for the foreseeable future.”
Her fear remained. Full-scale. She was trapped between two angry vampires. There wasn’t a witch alive who wouldn’t be frightened out of her mind.
But she was female enough to be annoyed by his blatant command. “You’re not the boss of me.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze searing a path over her stubborn expression. “Don’t push this, witch.”
“I . . .” She became lost in the compelling beauty of his eyes, her annoyance floundering as she felt his fierce tension. This wasn’t just a male need to toss out orders. It . . . mattered to him. “Trust me, I never intend to use it again,” she at last conceded.
“Good,” he growled. “Because if you try to bond with another man, I’ll . . .”
She scowled. “You’ll what?”
Without warning he grabbed her face and kissed her with a raw yearning that she felt to the tips of her toes.
Holy shit.
“You’re making me nuts,” he muttered against her lips.
She clutched at his leather jacket, her knees stupidly weak. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”
“Roke,” a dark, frigid voice broke into their brief moment of madness. “Am I intruding?”
Releasing his hold on her, Roke turned to face his king, angling his body so she was half shielded behind him.
Sally blinked in surprise. He couldn’t feel a need to protect her. Could he?
“I thought you went to speak with the Oracles?” Roke said to the towering vampire who was regarding him with a narrowed glare.
“They refused to see me.” He folded his arms over his massive chest, testing the limits of endurance for the black T-shirt that was matched with a pair of black leather pants and heavy boots. “Which meant I wasn’t in the mood to return to my lair and discover I’ve been harboring a traitor.”
Sally went rigid at the accusation. “He’s not a traitor,” she blurted out before she could halt the words.
“No?” The King of Vampires turned his alarming attention in her direction. “My guards informed me that Roke took you from this cell against my strict orders, and then with the excuse he was taking you to meet with me, he assisted in your escape.”
“Only because I forced him.”
Styx stepped forward, emphasizing her distinct lack of stature. “You?”
“Yes.” Her chin tilted even as her brain screamed to shut her mouth. Unfortunately, the two weren’t currently connected. “I’m not completely helpless. And, as you see, he brought me back.”
Styx studied her for a long, nerve-wracking minute. “Such a fierce defense of your captor,” he at last murmured.
“I’m not defending him.” She hunched a shoulder, well aware she sounded like an idiot. Crap. Could she blame it on the mating? Obviously it was destroying what few brain cells she had left. “I’m just . . . explaining.”
“Styx.” With a fluid movement, Roke was shifting to stand at Styx’s side, as if he were trying to distract the large vampire from Sally. “I need to speak with you in private.”
She frowned, pretending she didn’t notice her treacherous flare of warmth at Roke’s protective gesture. Instead she sent him a warning scowl.
She’d be damned if she’d be abandoned alone in this dungeon.
Not again.
“Hey, you’re not leaving me here.”
Styx started to offer a condescending smile at her sharp words only to freeze as his gaze caught sight of the markings on her inner arm. “Christ,” he rasped. “Roke, what have you done?”
The Anasso reached to grab her arm, but without warning Roke was slamming into the larger vampire, pinning him to the bars of the nearest cell.
“Don’t touch her,” he growled.
A deathly silence filled the dungeon. A silence even more shocking after the unexpected flurry of violence.
Sally didn’t dare breathe as the two powerful demons glared at one another. Then, curling back his lips to display his enormous fangs, Styx spoke in low, commanding tones.
“Release me, brother.” Enough power filled the air to send Roke stumbling backward. “Now!”
Roke rammed his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack under the strain.
