Blood Shadows (43 page)

‘I promised I’d look after her. Arana. Instead I was in some grotty, dank basement giving it to some female whose face I can’t even remember.’

‘How did you find out what had happened?’

‘Someone found her body the night after. I’d been out looking for her when she hadn’t come home. She was always home by dawn.’

She stared back into the flames alongside him.

‘Arana was the only goodness left in me,’ he said. ‘So maybe you’re right, maybe that was the catalyst. Maybe it exposed who I really was when I didn’t need to love or think of anyone else. To be honest, I don’t even know anymore. Nor do I care.’

She studied him in the firelight. Those beautiful masculine features. Those tender, passionate lips. Those deep, emotional, untamed eyes. ‘There’s still good in you.’

He exhaled curtly and looked back at her.

‘There is,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it. I know most of it has been about making me fall for you – I’m not stupid. But there were still parts of you, real parts of you that slipped out.’ She looked back into the fire. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to fall for you otherwise.’ Composing herself in the silence, she looked back at him. She wished she didn’t need to ask it. ‘Do you hate me?’

He shook his head. ‘No.’

She believed him, but it was still irrelevant with what was to come. She looked down at her bare toes curling into the carpet.

‘You need to have more confidence in yourself, Caitlin.’

She frowned. ‘I do have confidence.’

‘Do you?’

‘I have enough.’

‘You have no idea how strong you are.’

She looked back across her shoulder at him. ‘Are you scared of anything, Kane?’

He frowned. ‘Why?’

‘I want to know.’

He looked back into the flames. ‘Honestly? Not much.’ He was pensive for a moment. ‘Serryns I guess. But that goes for every vampire. I suppose I’d say I’m more unnerved by them though, rather than scared.’

‘They’re the ones with the poisonous blood, right?’

‘Poisonous to us. And infused with all the charm and prowess to get us to bite. They’re a walking advert for vampire celibacy if ever there was one.’ He broke a smile before looking back into the flames.

‘Have you ever come across one?’

‘I wouldn’t be sitting here now if I had. Not with my lack of self-control over the years.’ He glanced back at her. ‘Unfortunately for you, they’ve kept away from me.’

‘Only scared of one thing. That’s impressive.’

‘Why, what are you scared of, Caitlin?’

‘It would be quicker to list what I’m not scared of.’ She hesitated and took a steadying breath. ‘Like you, I guess it’s not being in control. Being helpless. A failure. Being alone. I’m scared of you taking my soul. I’m afraid about how it will feel not to have it anymore.’ She interlaced her fingers and clenched. ‘I’m frightened of feeling that emptiness again. I’m frightened of the pain that comes with it.’ She felt him tense, knew he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. But she didn’t dare, couldn’t bear, to meet his gaze. She looked down at her hands. ‘I sometimes wonder if I’d even have come down this path if I hadn’t lost them both. If Rob hadn’t walked away. I wonder if I could have made myself normal.’

‘What’s normal?’

She looked into his eyes, eyes that studied her intently. Too intently for her to sustain it. She looked back into the flames and shrugged.

‘Strong isn’t about not being afraid, Caitlin. It’s about facing what you’re scared of.’

‘Like you,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘And what you can do to me.’

‘I don’t want to scare you.’

‘No?’

He shook his head. He brushed her hair back from her shoulder, but didn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he gently smoothed down the hair on the back of her head before tenderly cupping her neck.

She warily met his gaze, a gaze that lingered as if in contemplation. But he didn’t need to say anything more. His touch had said it all. His eyes had brimmed with compassion enough to break her.

She didn’t think about it and she was glad she didn’t, or she’d never have had the courage to do it.

She leaned into him, the energy crackling between them as their legs touched.

She knew it was a tentative kiss, but he didn’t seem to mind. He accepted her willingly, lips parting to hers, tongue meeting hers as they kissed slowly, lingeringly. He cupped her neck with both hands, his thumbs tracing across her jaw as he moved onto his knees, straddled her, guiding her gently onto her back.

His kiss was deep, intense, as he took his time, teasing her mouth open, creating enough pressure to make every hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

She traced her palm down his chest, taking in every hard curve, his skin warm from the heat of the fire. She absorbed the static as she ran her fingers over the top of his jeans, the ridge of his toned stomach.

He unfastened his jeans and led her hand down to his erection. He guided her hand around his girth, held her there until she relaxed it enough for him to slide it up and down his length before wrapping her fingers around the ridge, guiding her thumb over the tip so she could feel his wetness.

Arousal shot through her, his grip tightening over hers as he sighed against her lips. He was enjoying it. He was enjoying her touch. And he kissed her slowly, tenderly, on the mouth, down her neck, her cleavage, rubbing his thumb across her breast through her bra before sliding his hand to her neck again, her whole body ignited.

Hell, he was going to break her heart, tear her to pieces, but still she couldn’t stop reacting to him. She had fallen and fallen deep. And as she kissed him again, she could feel her heart wrenching.

She’d never make him love her. It was a battle she’d never win. But she’d hold on to the way he looked at her right then, the way he touched her as he gently pushed her hair back, running his fingers through it.

‘Let’s just do this,’ she said against his lips. ‘Before I change my mind.’

He nodded, his head pressed against hers. He stood and took the herbs and books from the mantelpiece. He emptied the contents of the plastic bags into the crystal flute glass, the dried samples melting into the warm water surprisingly quickly.

Kane handed the flute across to her as she sat up. ‘You have to drink it in one go.’

She accepted it off him, the glass warm between her fingers. She looked down into the liquid then knocked it back. It was sweet to taste but the bitterness quickly snapped in, a dry wall forming in her throat. She felt nothing else for a few seconds, but then felt consumed as if dropped in a warm pool. Feeling her body sway, she clutched the floor.

She frowned, her head feeling heavy. If it hadn’t been for the awareness of Kane’s arms guiding her back down she would have sworn she was falling slowly. The rug felt soothing, warm and comfortable as she relaxed into its softness. The darkness of the room added to the inescapable calm seeping into her body and mind, the flicker of the flames on the ceiling compellingly hypnotic.

Kane’s kiss was deep again, sensuous as he pulled off his T-shirt and lowered himself onto her, melding against her. She slid her hands up the tautness of his biceps to his shoulders and down his hard, cool back, before gliding back up to the nape of his neck as his kisses trailed back across her jaw.

It was all she could concentrate on as she felt herself drifting into languidness. Her eyes were an effort to keep open, the coolness flushing over her skin adding to her sleepiness. The shadows on the ceiling took on shape and form, mingling and merging, swirling in each other’s midst. What she knew to be 2D became 3D, reaching out for her, looming down on her like stalactites. She reached her hand up to touch them but felt nothing but warm air, each time the tips of the stalactites receding just out of reach. The rug felt like liquid, dissipating between her fingers.

She turned her head to the right as Kane kissed down her neck, the room following a split second behind, adding to her queasiness. The flames curved and bowed towards her, stretching and morphing into shapes, into faces, elongated then squashed.

She closed her eyes, needing to rest her weighty lids.

‘Still with me?’ Kane whispered in her ear.

She nodded.

She let him spread her legs and push himself into her.

She caught her breath and clenched the back of his neck and forearm as he eased all the way inside her.

Her body felt shockingly relaxed, surprisingly at ease. His cool fingers interlaced with hers and squeezed, but he still felt distant, her hand feeling as though it was someone else’s. And as he began to penetrate her, the darkness seemed more intense, its depth almost breathing as it contracted and expanded.

She knew she could have died then and would never have felt more complete. She knew she could want nothing more than having him inside her, feeling him that close to her, a part of her. She pulled him closer and kept him against her as he kissed down her throat, down her cleavage. He withdrew to slide down further, pushing up her dress to kiss her inner thighs. She arched her back, knowing where he was leading to and longing for him to get there. His cold tongue instantly met her heat, licking at her folds and encircling her clitoris until she grabbed the back of his head. He pushed his tongue inside, the sensation almost knocking her to the brink of climax. But he sensed it, his mouth again meeting hers, as he pushed himself back inside her.

‘I could never hate you,’ he said softly in her ear. ‘You make me feel too much.’

Her gaze met his. He was blurred, but she could tell from the way he was looking at her and the sincerity of his tone that he was speaking the truth. A truth that made her heart ache.

His thrusts became slicker, his grip firmer as he started to bring her to climax. The relaxation of her body made every tiny pulse almost too intense to bear, her arousal consuming her, overwhelming her. She didn’t care that she couldn’t contain it. She didn’t care that she whimpered in elation. She didn’t care that she called out his name or cried as she broke into another climax. A climax Kane lingered in until he kissed her tenderly on the ear and withdrew.

Words. She heard words. Distant muffled words as if she were under covers or in another room. But she knew Kane’s voice. She picked up the rhythm of an incantation. He’d started the process.

She could hear the crackle of the fire, the flames seeming to vibrate on the ceiling as they leapt unnervingly fast as if they were panicking, trying to get away.

A wave hit her, the whole floor seeming to undulate beneath her. Then again. The next one came harder and faster as if a tidal wave was not crashing against her, but flowing out from within her. It took all her concentration to keep herself steady, her toes and fingers curled into the rug.

A thrum resounded in the room, in her ears, like a distant drumbeat only softer, like a large bird preparing itself for flight, beating its wings in slow motion. She could almost see them: those heavy brown wings outstretched, picking up air with every beat. And they got faster, louder, lighter, flapping now instead like tiny bird wings. The stronger the pull inside, the more the wings flapped frenetically. And she realised it was paper – pages turning rapidly – turning because the incantation was working. Her soul was being drawn out, its content transferring to words on the paper.

The flapping became so frantic it hummed in her ears. Her body ached, her chest tight. She felt empty, lost, just as she had the day her mother had told her about her father, just as she’d felt the day Max had sat her down to reveal the same news about her mother. And tears trickled down her cheeks. Disassociation overwhelmed her, the pain too great to acknowledge, the emptiness all too real and all too encapsulating. The void grew with every passing second, until she heard a thunk as the book slammed closed.

The water rushed away, Caitlin feeling as if she was laying in an empty bath, not moving as the darkness pulsated and throbbed behind her eyes.

She clenched her hands and they felt like hers again, the rug felt warm and soft beneath her. She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, the flames flickering on the ceiling a surprising comfort.

Kane gazed down at her as he rested on his forearm. ‘It’s done,’ he said softly.

She sighed and turned her head to look across at the book that lay closed beside her. She scanned the room. Everything looked the same. Everything felt the same. Everything smelt the same. Apart from that nagging feeling of emptiness inside, she didn’t feel any different. She looked back at him through heavy, sleepy eyes. ‘Now we wait?’

He nodded. ‘I’ll get us some pillows. We can bed down here.’

Kane pulled a couple of pillows from the bed.

Caitlin had moved onto her side, her back to him. He stood captivated by her feminine silhouette in the firelight – the inward curve of her slender waist, down over her rounded hip, her slender, shapely legs, those delicate feet, her toes curling and uncurling in the rug. Her sandy-brown hair cascaded over her beautiful shoulders, her head resting on her forearm, that tantalizing neck exposed. A neck he had fed on and ravished. A body he’d come to know nearly every part of. A body that sent a pulse of excitement through him from just a touch. A body he had been so close to doing so many atrocities to – thoughts that now sickened him.