Blood Shadows (41 page)

Kane swapped to the other side of her neck and bit again. Caitlin jolted, her nails digging into his hard upper arms. But he caught her wrists, forcing them behind her back, holding them there with just one hand as he used his other to keep her neck exactly where he wanted it.

The power returning to his body increased as he relaxed fully into the feed, his grip more assured and his movements more fluid. It was no longer just about necessity. The feed was gradually being replaced with enjoyment. He lapped away the blood at the wound he had created, kissed up her jaw where Rob had struck her, before his lips met hers, the metallic taste of her blood mingling in her mouth as he kissed her deeply.

His lip had already healed along with the cut on his brow. The spark was returning to his eyes, their sharpness replacing exhaustion and pain.

She braced herself as he nuzzled down her cleavage and tensed at the prospect of him biting down into her breast.

‘Kane,’ she said breathily. ‘Kane you’ve had enough.’

But he was paying her no attention. Through the thin fabric of her knickers, his erection was already throbbing against his jeans. If she had had any doubt of what was to come, now she was sure.

He ripped the first few buttons on her dress as he tugged the fabric aside. Pulled down the cup of her bra so he could take her in his mouth.

She froze, fearful he would bite, but he didn’t. Caitlin shuddered and whimpered, the tenderness within the brutality creating a heady mix for her own arousal.

Sensing it, he released her hands momentarily to push her down onto her back, the tiled floor cold and hard against her shoulders, her behind. He tore away her knickers, yanked down his jeans and shorts before parting her thighs around him. It felt unnervingly natural as she lay beneath him, her body acquiescent to what he needed. Not that her acquiescence made a difference. This wasn’t just about Kane taking what he needed – it had the lethal undertones of him taking what he wanted.

But still she didn’t feel afraid, despite anxiety overwhelming her. Memories came back hard and fast of walking into that room and seeing him. The sickness she had felt at the pain they had put him through. That feeling deep in her gut that had paralysed her when she knew they had every intention of killing him. The prospect that they could have taken him so easily still terrified her. If they had, she may as well have stepped into the grip of the soul ripper because having Kane die would have torn her soul out anyway.

As he pushed his way inside her without further warning, she bucked and gasped. The sensation was completely different, as if it were the first time all over again. Forcing her thighs further apart to allow himself deeper penetration, he withdrew slightly to thrust again, this time filling her to the hilt in one go. A tear escaped her eye from the building pressure inside her body, the heat overwhelming her despite the coolness of his body, of the floor.

She almost didn’t notice him raking back her hair until he bit again. This time it was passionate and impulsive. She cried out, but it only made him feed on her harder and push himself mercilessly deeper, his renewed body uncompromising as he drank.

She arched from the floor, instinctively pressing herself into him as his bloodied lips covered hers again, his kiss voracious. The throb between her legs was overwhelming, all-encompassing. She closed her eyes, lost in the sensation, aching for her climax. She clenched her hands, held her breath. Forgot where she was.

His pace increased, his growls alarming her, momentarily distracting her from the intense heat rushing through her body.

And as he bit into her again, his thrusts unrelenting, she opened her eyes in shock only to slam them shut again. Dust particles sparkled and glinted in the darkness. Particles that darted around chaotically. Particles that became sparks. Sparks that ignited into flashes of light. She flushed from icy cold to hot, the flashes colourful, vibrant.

The room felt off kilter, the thrum resounding in her ears disorientating. Her body ached and her eyes filled with tears. She felt nothing around her but his arms, nothing but him inside her. And as her body shuddered into climax, she cried out. She tried to open her eyes again, but something more powerful was making the decision for her. Something that was determined to win. Something that held her still despite her struggles. Something that absorbed every last bit of energy she had left.

And she knew she couldn’t fight it as unconsciousness consumed her, as she sank into darkness as comforting and enveloping as a warm ocean.

Kane withdrew from her and sat back on his haunches, catching his breath, surprised at how much his body trembled and ached. He’d never had one that powerful. Even with the shadow readers who had made it into an art form, they’d never brought him to climax like that.

He wiped away the blood on his lips and sucked it off his hand, a taste that intoxicated him as much as her touch. Caitlin lay beneath him, her body languid, pale and sated. He tenderly checked her pulse. It was slow but steady. She was lucky to be alive. And he was lucky he’d come when he had. She was strong but he’d pushed her hard and fast and her body wasn’t used to it. What he’d done was dangerous.

Her body had gone into shock, but the glow around her told him she was quickly recuperating. He ran his hand over the softness of her face and lingered where Rob had hit her. The thought of it incited him in ways it never should have.

He sat back on braced arms as he continued to watch over her. The same feeling stirred in his chest as when she’d run out on him: that uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling that he didn’t want. All the while he had been trying to seduce her, to win her heart, she had been silently burrowing into his. And he already knew she had burrowed deep, too deep for comfort. And as he gazed down at her, he wondered how the hell he was going to let that soul ripper anywhere near her.

She opened her eyes and glanced up at him, obviously sensing his presence but slipping straight back into unconsciousness. His heart splintered somewhere deep. He leaned over her and did what he knew was the last thing he should have done. The very last thing he should have considered. He kissed her gently and tenderly on the lips, so tender that he had to pull away as soon as he’d done it.

He had to stay on course. He had to see it through to the end. He couldn’t let this compromise his position.

He had to do this.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

C
aitlin opened her eyes to find she was inside Kane’s car. She looked out of the window at the run-down towering building that seemingly had once been a hotel. So many of the buildings like that had become residential – if they could be called that. No one visited Blackthorn for pleasure anymore, not wholesome pleasure, even though decades before it had been a thriving tourist city.

She pulled herself more upright.

That meant they’d successfully crossed the border.

‘We’re back in Blackthorn,’ she said, as if to confirm it to herself. ‘How?’

‘I left the car at the border. Took the tunnel.’

She stared across at him. ‘The tunnel is real?’

He almost smiled. ‘But let that be our little secret.’

He drove them into the multi-storey car park and descended the first ramp.

She looked down at the sweater he had pulled over her torn dress to cover her modesty. It was clearly his from the size of it. Heat rushed between her legs as she remembered the rawness of the act. She wondered how much of it he had been aware of. She wondered how much of it had been out of his control, how much had been about punishing her for putting him in that situation, and how much of it had been just him unrestrained. She pushed back the sleeves. ‘Where are we?’

‘You were right to suspect I didn’t live at the other place,’ he said, driving deeper and deeper towards the subbasement. He stopped at the steel barrier at the end of the next ramp and pointed a remote at the windscreen. The barrier grated as it recoiled and folded back against the wall.

She looked across at him, his features now barely discernable in the darkness. ‘This is where you live?’

He glanced across at her and offered her a hint of a smile before driving into the darkness again, the barrier closing behind them.

He parked in the far left-hand corner of what was clearly the lowest level of the building. He reached for the glove compartment, his arm brushing her knees, every hair on the back of her forearms standing on end.

He met her gaze but it was fleeting, before he pulled away again.

Caitlin got out as he did, the chill in the basement compared to the warmth in the car evoking goosebumps. The echo as they both slammed their doors ricocheted around the expansive, empty darkness surrounding them. As the inner car light dissipated, he took her by the hand and led her over to what she could just about make out to look like a maintenance door, from the hazardous symbols and motifs it displayed.

As the car light finally switched off and threw them into pitch darkness, Caitlin clutched Kane’s hand tighter. Her heart skipped a beat as he interlaced his fingers with hers while he did something barely audible to the door.

It opened automatically, triggering a light to come on at the top of the tiny stone stairwell, igniting the dusty flecks in the air.

Her stomach clenched. ‘Down there?’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Not scared of the dark are you, Caitlin?’

She offered him a feigned smile of rebuke, and followed his lead down the steps. The door shut behind them, intensifying the already dense silence. She pressed her hand to the wall for balance, the steep stone steps cold against her soles.

Kane stopped at the metal door at the bottom and unlocked it in two places before indicating for Caitlin to step in first.

She stepped over the threshold as Kane flicked a switch, causing a domino effect of erupting low-wattage lights igniting the darkness.

It was nothing she had expected from the dim and grimy entrance, but everything she expected of him.

This was his place. This was where Kane lived.

It was a cavernous maze of halls and doors and rooms partially hidden behind heavy jacquard or velvet curtains. It was opulent and luxurious, lavished with forest greens, navy blues and deep-crimson rich-textured fabrics to match the walnut and mahogany frames, doors and furniture. And silent. It was so silent. A warm labyrinth scented with cloves and mandarin, with cinnamon: scents that made her think of Christmas and all its promise.

She followed him down the hallways, passing floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors that reflected the rooms opposite – mirrors she could mistakenly walk into. It was confusing and bewildering, but enchanting. Intricate tapestries draped the walls amongst metal sconces, elaborate carvings and renaissance images. Catacombs and recesses exposed ornate curiosities. Further objects of fascination covered shelves and bookcases: filigree wooden boxes, enamels and metalwork goblets and rings. Swords with stunning hilts as detailed as the one she had seen scrawled onto his back, were resting high on the walls or in glass display cabinets.

This was Kane – intense, dark and private, with a world of fascination in every recess. This wasn’t just a home, it was a retreat. This was his nest.

He unlaced his hand from hers and veered off right into the lounge. Caitlin hovered for a moment as he pushed open a set of double doors directly ahead, turning right again.

She looked to her left, drawn towards the gap between the emerald velvet curtains, before glancing right once more to see if Kane had reappeared. He hadn’t.

She pushed the weighty curtain aside to step into the enclosure. It was a lounge just like the one Kane had walked through, but this one was smaller and swamped in clutter. She passed a nearly finished cross-stitch of a Labrador and an easel with a half-finished oil painting of a woodland landscape. Resting against the wall behind them were numerous canvasses. She crouched down and flicked through. They were of scenery, still life, wildlife and portraits. And almost all of the latter were of Kane. Her heart skipped a beat at the assortment of wry and amused smiles and stoic glances he was offering the artist, or that the artist had been keen to capture. And because those images had clearly been created by someone who adored her subject, she instantly knew who that artist was: someone who got close enough to see who Kane really was; someone who loved him; someone whom he looked back at with equal love and affection.

This was Arana’s room.

Arana, whose self-portrait smirked down at Caitlin from across the room. She was as stunning as Kane. Her thick black hair was long, wavy, untamed; her eyes an equally dark blue though large and doe-like. Like his, they were full of mischief and sharpness.

She thought of backing out of the room, but she didn’t feel unwelcome there. There was no hostility in the environment. She stepped forward and pushed back another emerald curtain and stepped into Arana’s bedroom. The bedroom of a girl who could just as easily never have left her teenage years. It was packed with fans and trinkets, metal and wooden trinket boxes. Elaborate and extravagant costume jewellery held stones that sparkled in the artificial light. Scarves and clothing were draped over mirrors and a domineering changing screen adorned with images of proud peacocks. This was the boudoir of a girl who loved life and all it had to offer. This was a girl who loved spontaneity. This was a girl who would buy something just because she liked it. Someone who accepted gifts readily and happily. A girl who loved textures and scents and patterns.