Kissed by a Dark Prince (Volume 1) (24 page)

It weighed down on him, souring his mood. Even Bleu had noticed it during their meeting with Olivia and Sable about the club they had visited the night that Olivia had met a male who had torn her heart and her body to shreds.

He curled his fingers into fists and the armour he wore beneath his mortal clothing of black jeans and a black shirt automatically covered his hands, turning his fingertips into long serrated black claws. If the demon hadn’t already been dead, Loren would have been on the warpath, determined to hunt him down and butcher him for what he had done to Loren’s fated female.

Bleu cast him a concerned glance as he followed Sable into the club, and held back as Loren entered behind him. His long black coat, jeans and t-shirt made him blend into the near-darkness at this end of the large warehouse-style club.

“This is not wise,” Bleu said over the continual thump of loud music. If you could call it music.

The patrons of the club seemed to be enjoying the cacophony, grinding to the heavy beat on the expansive dance floor to his left, their movements stuttering in the flashing coloured lights. Other patrons watched from a balcony that ran around the rectangular room, forming another floor. Dark velvet curtains covered the spaces between the supporting steel pillars in places. Private boxes? What sort of club was this anyway?

The image of Olivia in one of those boxes with another male ran through his mind, tormenting him.

The constant flickering light and pounding volume only worsened his mood.

He knew that Bleu wasn’t talking about coming to the club being a bad move. He thought bringing Olivia and Sable was unwise, but Loren refused to go anywhere without her now, even if it meant bringing her somewhere that most likely pained her.

And pained him.

He didn’t want to see her here, where she had attracted the attention of another male and begun a relationship with him, not when there were many males on the prowl for a female in the area and he felt as though he was nearing the end of his relationship with her. Would she torment him as she had with Bleu, seeking the attention of the males? He couldn’t bear it.

His eyes changed and his ears extended, becoming pointed beneath the wilder strands of his black hair. He growled and Bleu placed his hand on his chest.

“Perhaps you should have remained at Archangel.” The lights flashing across Bleu’s face changed the colour of his skin and his eyes. His irises were green though. For once, Bleu was in better control of himself than Loren was.

Loren shirked his grip and sought Olivia, needing to see her and look into her eyes. He had to know if she was planning to seek the attention of other males or whether she had moved past such low methods of torturing him.

He spotted her a short distance away, talking animatedly to Sable. Olivia was beautiful with her chestnut hair cascading around her bare shoulders, a dark purple halter-top clinging dangerously to her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, and her delicious long legs encased in black jeans.

He had never seen her dressed so provocatively. She had been embarrassed when he had visited her apartment to collect her and had set eyes on her. Perhaps the fact that he had growled, drawing the attention of a passing pair of hunters, had made her awkward. They had stared at him, and then Olivia, and then whispered about them as they had moved on down the corridor.

They knew that Olivia had given herself to him and they knew her history, and he had wanted to kill them for daring to insult his female behind her back.

It had been difficult to stop himself, and only Olivia moving closer to him, her eyes on his face, had drawn him out of his dark rage.

She hadn’t stopped being shy around him since then, and he hadn’t stopped staring at her like a boy wet behind his ears who had experienced his first spark of desire for a beauty.

Olivia’s dark eyes drifted across to him, the coloured lights playing across her skin, highlighting just how beautiful she was. Mine. He had never desired anyone so fiercely, so completely. He had never needed anyone as he needed her.

She caught Sable’s hand and moved towards him, the crowd seeming to part for her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, transfixed by her beauty and the way she looked at him alone, even though she passed many males, and several of them turned to watch her.

Mine
.

He wanted the world to know it, beginning with every male in this club.

She halted before him, a shy edge to her expression, and he breathed hard as he wrestled with himself, torn between pulling her into his arms and kissing her and keeping things on a less intimate level.

He feared that if he tried to kiss her, she would pull away from him, increasing the distance between them. He wanted her closer, and that meant he had to figure out how to show her that she could trust him and he wouldn’t betray her as the other male had. He was not that male. If she gave her heart to him, he would cherish it and keep it safe forever. He would never allow anything to happen to her.

He lifted his hand, drawn to touching her cheek, knowing it would reassure her. His black armour peeled back to his wrists. Her awkwardness wasn’t only because of the things that had happened between them and the events of her past. It was because she felt self-conscious without her white coat, her armour. It was because she feared that he might lose control in the club and draw attention to them.

She didn’t need to fear in that respect. Demons or fae ran this club, and most of the people sharing the room with them were non-human. The staff behind the bar and clearing the tables were a mixture of demon and fae, including some rarer species.

He had spotted the blond jaguar shifter male serving drinks behind the bar. They had a unique scent. All shifters did. This one was different though, unlike any jaguar he had encountered before. He smelled not quite right. Stronger somehow. Darker.

All feline species of shape-shifters were highly territorial, but that wasn’t the only reason there wouldn’t be another jaguar male amongst the crowd or staff. They were rare now when once they had flourished. Demons had decimated their species, driving them back into the rainforest.

Loren was surprised to find this one living in a large urban area.

Normally, jaguars preferred to surround themselves with expansive dense green forests or wide open fields, places where they could let go of their mortal form and unleash their natural cat one. Unlike other species of shifter, cats had difficulty keeping control of their animal instincts and felt driven to transform on an almost nightly basis so they could run wild and hunt. Was this male’s strength the reason he could live in such a built up area and work during the hours of darkness without losing control and revealing himself to mortals?

“Stay close,” Loren said over the noise of the music and Sable tossed him a bored look. She would get herself into trouble if she ignored his warning.

He scanned the crowd and the more he looked, the less he liked the situation. Olivia and Sable were two in only a handful of humans in the club, and many of the demons and fae were already eyeing Sable with suspicion. She had left her combat gear at home, dressing in tight black leather trousers and an equally tight black t-shirt that had dragon wings in gold on the back. Like Olivia, she wore her straight black hair down, and she had no weapons on her.

Or at least none that he could see.

“Chill out. We’ve been here before.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, revealing a stylised tribal cross on the inside of her wrist. “I need a drink.”

Olivia caught her arm before she could leave. “I think we should listen to Loren and stick together.”

Sable took Olivia’s hand off her arm. “I’ll bring you back a beer.”

Olivia looked lost and then rebounded, plastering on a smile. “She has been here quite a lot. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

She didn’t sound sure, or feel it. Loren moved closer, wanting to reassure her but unable to bring himself to lie.

“I count six humans total in this club,” Bleu said, shattering Loren’s chance of breaking it gently to Olivia.

She gasped and turned wide eyes on Bleu. “Are you serious?”

He ignored her and leaned closer to Loren. “I’m going to tap a siren.”

“Be careful, and do not go too far.” Loren didn’t like the thought of Bleu placing himself in the firing line of sirens, but it was a good strategy and would be beneficial if Bleu succeeded.

He nodded and drifted into the crowd, standing a good four inches taller than most of the males. A string of female heads turned to follow his progress, curious murmurs rippling through the crowd. Speculation. Loren smiled at some of what he could hear. They were wondering what species he and Bleu were, and many were miles off the mark. He was definitely not an incubus, although the way Bleu prowled through the throng of people, his gaze seeking out females, was the way one of that species would behave.

Olivia sidled closer. “Did he mean tapping like for information or like a keg, but with blood in it not beer?”

He shifted his gaze down to her and she didn’t look sure whether she wanted to know the answer.

Loren took hold of her bare arm. A shiver arced along his nerve endings and set them alight as his fingers closed around her soft flesh and his markings shimmered into life beneath his armour. He lured her away from the main thoroughfare and towards a quieter corner near the end of the long bar to his right that occupied nearly the entire wall opposite the dance floor.

He was sure Sable would be able to find them there, and he wanted Olivia away from the curious and sometimes heated gazes of the males skirting the edge of the dance floor. He was reaching the limit of his patience already and was calculating the outcomes of either kissing Olivia to show the males that she was mated and belonged to him or killing them all.

Olivia would not be impressed either way.

“Sirens are telepathic.” He brought his mouth close to her ear so he didn’t have to shout for her to hear him over the volume of the music. There were humans in the club and alerting them to the existence of non-humans would bring not only his council down on his head, but the main demonic and fae council too. “Elves gain short term use of the abilities of a blood host if they are demonic or fae.”

“Bleu wants to use telepathy to listen in on everyone and see if they’ve heard anything about Vail?” she said and he nodded. “Fascinating. You can do this with all fae and demons?”

Loren nodded again. “We drink a small quantity of their blood and gain those abilities, but it lasts only a limited time. We have to find another of that species and take more of their blood to renew the ability.”

“Why not just bag the blood? That way you’d have it on hand whenever you needed it. You could carry a package of vials around with different types of blood in it.”

He shook his head this time and drew her closer when a passing male glanced her way. He growled and flashed his fangs at the young demon, whose eyes flickered turquoise in response to the act of aggression. Loren held his ground, his own eyes vivid purple, warning the demon what he was. The young male snorted and took off, preening the small horns curling behind his ears and concealed by his wild blond hair.

Loren turned back to Olivia to find her staring after the male. He snarled and she gasped, tensing beneath his fingers, and her eyes shot back to him.

“I was just wondering what he was,” she snapped and he felt as though she had rekindled the dying hope in his heart with those words.

Olivia wasn’t interested in the males here. She stared up at him, her brown eyes almost black in the low lighting, and he forgot what they had been talking about before the male had interrupted them.

She had painted her lips a dark shade of pink and had run black kohl around her eyes, bringing out their intricate colour, awakening every thread of gold in the rich brown. He wanted to kiss the paint from her lips and see them flushed dark pink from it.

“Loren?” she said and he shook his hungers away, aware that she was picking up his desire and it was putting her on edge.

“We can only gain abilities from blood taken from the source. It must come from a living creature.”

She looked away from him, her eyes turning glassy, and he moved closer to her, concerned the jumbled feelings he could detect in her were the result of fear of the demons, or perhaps something else.

“Olivia?” he whispered and touched her cheek, and she jerked her head up, her eyes meeting his.

What was his female thinking to make her look so sorrowful?

He brushed his fingers across her cheek, his black eyebrows furrowing as he stared down into her eyes, trying to discern the source of her feelings so he could remove it and make her smile again.

Her gaze darted away from his, fixing on the bar to her left, and she quietly said, “Why don’t you tap a siren too then... if it would help with the search for your brother?”

Loren frowned at her suggestion and then sighed and pulled her into his arms, gathering her close to his chest. “I have no interest in tapping a siren for blood, or anyone for that matter.”

She looked up at him. “Because you’re not hungry?”

An instant replay of taking Olivia’s blood caused an instant hardening in his trousers and Olivia’s eyes widened. He shifted his hips away from her.

“No, not because I took your blood.” He smoothed his palm across her cheek, holding it, and holding her gaze too. “I do not want to drink from another female. I only want you.”

“For blood?” Her voice shook, her uncertainty adding an edge to her shyness that warmed him.

She wanted reassurance. She wanted him to tell her things she had tried to stop him from voicing before. She desired to know his feelings. It was a good sign.

He shook his head. “For everything.”

Her blood had revitalised him though, restoring his strength. He felt more powerful now, and more like his former self. Was it because of the bond between them? Was there something special about her blood now?

She looked at his arms around her and her air turned awkward again, and he had the feeling she was desperately trying to change the subject when she next spoke.