Claiming the Vampire (3 page)

“Or maybe I’m wrong, and you wouldn’t have done it. Maybe you would’ve stopped yourself when it came to the point. But I didn’t feel like taking that chance.”

His voice had lost its ironic edge, and she looked up at him again.

He was a vampire and an assassin, and she shouldn’t be standing here talking to him like this. She should be fighting him.

But she knew in her heart that he was right. He had saved her life.

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Why did you stop me?” she heard herself ask.

He shrugged.“Maybe I was curious.”

“Curious?”

“Curious to know what could lead a woman like you, a woman who’s been given every blessing this world can bestow, to contemplate taking her own life.”

He took a step towards her, and then another, until only a few inches separated them. “Will you tell me why?”

Once again she could only look at him without saying a word.

In the last few weeks she’d learned that vampires weren’t the soulless monsters she’d always believed them to be—or, at least, that not all of them were. But as much as she’d come to respect Evan and Jack, she’d never felt like this around them. She’d never felt so…shaken. The way he looked at her…the way he’d spoken out loud the things that were inside her…

As she continued to stare into those black eyes, she became aware of other things about him. His height—he had at least eight inches on her, and she wasn’t short. The broad, powerful shoulders under his black leather jacket. The strength in the hands that had gripped her. And most of all the power of his personality, a power that had already pulled more truths out of her than she’d ever shared with anyone.

She felt intensely aware of her own physicality. Her life force seemed to crackle across her skin, like electricity. She felt separately aware of every nerve and cell and synapse in her body.

It made her feel fragile and powerful at the same time.

She was aware of something else, too. As Hawk’s eyes held hers her stomach muscles tightened, sending an unfamiliar pulse of excitement through her. She became conscious of her breasts, how thin the material covering them was, how the act of breathing moved that material ever so slightly across her skin…and how sensitive her skin was to that sensation, as if it was the brush of fingertips instead of silk.

Thinking about fingertips made her nipples tighten. She felt it happening, and had to fight the urge to look down to see if it showed. If Hawk would be able to tell. And the thought of him seeing her nipples harden made them harden even more, and a wave of heat whipped color into her cheeks.

What was happening to her?

She remembered the first mad impulse she’d felt when she saw him—the impulse to expose her throat to him. To give herself to him.

To surrender.

Suddenly her hands clenched into fists. A warrior had no business surrendering. Not to anyone. Not ever.

And especially not to a vampire.

She tasted bile as she pictured how she must have looked to him—like some kind of swooning vampire groupie, letting her head fall back as she begged him to take her.

But that wasn’t who she was.

Jessica took a deep breath as she backed away from him. She needed to stay cool and keep her head, and find out what he was doing here.

“I might consider telling you—if you’ll tell me what a vampire assassin is doing at the home of the Faery Queen.”

* * *

Hawk studied the Fae girl for a long minute before speaking. For the second time that night he was struggling for self-control—and he was damned if he’d let it show.

He could have sworn she’d looked at him with desire a moment before. But it was hard to trust his senses when he’d been overwhelmed by a wave of hunger, a hunger that made his body harden and his incisors ache. Maybe his own desire had made him believe she felt the same.

Had he only imagined that intense moment of connection? That moment when her eyes seemed a direct pathway to her soul?

They were the most remarkable eyes he’d ever seen. Blue-green irises ringed with ebony, set in a thicket of lashes and framed by dark brows that arched like wings across her forehead.

Big and luminous and ocean-deep, tempting a man to fall into their depths.

He’d felt himself on the brink of doing just that when she’d taken a step back. And then, just like that, her ice-cold Fae mask was back in place. Those amazing eyes turned cool, with no hint of the pain and vulnerability that had tugged at him so powerfully. And he knew his curiosity about her, about what could have led her to think of harming herself, was not going to be satisfied.

But the danger was past now. He’d shocked her out of that near-trance, at least—and he doubted she’d go down that path again, now that she’d seen it for what it was.

Though why he should give a fuck was another mystery that would have to go unsolved.

It was time to focus on what he’d come here for. He’d already compromised his mission for this girl. His unaccountable need to save Jessica Greenwood’s life had, for a moment, been stronger than his instinct for self-preservation.

Time to get back on track.

“I’m here for the party, of course,” he said with a smile.

She raised one delicate brow. “I don’t believe you’re on the invitation list.”

He shrugged. “An oversight, I’m sure. Queen Talia and I are old friends.” It occurred to him for the first time that he might be able to leverage his contact with Jessica, turning a mistake into a tactical advantage. “Why don’t you take me inside to your mother? You can see for yourself what sort of welcome she gives me.”

He was a little curious about that himself. How would Talia react to seeing the vampire she’d hired to kill one of her own people? Especially when the meeting took place under the eyes of her daughter?

Jessica didn’t know about the contract her mother had taken out on Celia, and he was willing to bet Talia wanted to keep it that way.

Jessica folded her arms. She had gorgeous arms, slender and toned and strong.

“You want me to take you inside. To my mother.”

“Why not? That’s where I was headed when I saw you and got…sidetracked. Not that I’d mention our little encounter to your mother, of course. I’d hate to think she might misconstrue your actions the way I did.”

His words served a dual purpose. He was reminding her that she owed him a debt, and also that he had the power to expose her moment of weakness to her mother.

He was betting she didn’t want that. And he could tell by the way her lips tightened that he was right.

“Are you threatening to tell my mother about what I…what you think I was about to do?”

“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “I was merely suggesting that one good turn deserves another.”

“You’re aware that there are hundreds of Fae inside, including my mother’s personal guard?”

“Of course. I told you my intentions were peaceful. I’m certainly not planning to take on a small army of Green Fae single-handed. Do you want to search me for weapons?” He actually had several concealed on his person, but he doubted she would take him up on his offer.

Once again, she surprised him. “I’ll be happy to check you for weapons—after you disarm yourself, as an act of good faith.”

It was a test, of course. Would he give them all up, or leave one or two and chance that she might discover them?

Well played, Faery girl.

“Fair enough,” he said nonchalantly.

He started with the most obvious: the dagger at his waist, the one in the inside pocket of his jacket, and the one strapped to his wrist. He handed the three knives to her hilt first, with a smile.

“I’m sure that’s not all,” she said, smiling back.

“I didn’t say I was finished.”

The one in the toe of his boot? She’d probably spot that, so he triggered the mechanism himself and handed the blade over. Then he undid his belt and passed it to her.

“Two razor blades embedded in the leather, and the buckle makes a fair cosh. And that’s everything.”

She dropped the belt on top of the other weapons and stepped close. “Take your jacket off. And put your arms up.”

He complied.

“Not that I don’t trust you,” she added as she went over his arms, shoulders, back, and chest.

“Of course,” he said, speaking easily even though the feel of her small, strong hands was having an unwelcome effect on his body—one he couldn’t seem to control.

Since he couldn’t hide it, the only thing to do was make a joke of it.

“Be sure you check everywhere,” he said, his tone deliberately flirtatious as she moved closer to the danger zone. He knew the moment she noticed his erection, because her hands went still.

But only for a second. She kept her eyes on what she was doing as she continued, patting down his hard-on as impersonally as she did his hips and legs.

“I love a woman who’s thorough,” he murmured, hoping she didn’t notice the effort it took him to keep his voice even.

If he’d been hard before, there was a steel shaft in his pants right now, throbbing like a goddam engine. He barely even noticed when she found the knife in his left boot.

“Did you forget about this one?” she asked sweetly, dropping the blade onto the pile with the others.

“Oops,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Too many potential hiding places in the jacket, so leave it here. You can pick it up on your way out, along with your weapons.”

“Does that mean you’re finished?”

“Yes, I—”

He closed the distance between them in two strides and jerked her hard against him.

“Then it’s my turn,” he grated, his fingers digging into her upper arms as he glared down at her.

Hawk prided himself on never, ever losing his temper, which made the rage he was feeling right now even more inexplicable.

He’d never been this angry at a woman. He was furious that Jessica had patted him down so impersonally while the evidence of his arousal was so obvious. He was furious with her for seeming so unaffected…and he was determined to prove that she wasn’t as impervious to him as she appeared.

Even now, she was keeping her cool—although her heartbeat had accelerated slightly.

“That’s not how this works,” she said coldly. “This is my home, and you’re a stranger—not to mention a vampire and an assassin. You don’t get to check me for weapons.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to check you for something else.”

He walked her backward towards the nearest tree, his eyes burning into hers, until he could press her up against the trunk.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Hawk was grateful for that. He was afraid if he tried to talk right now his voice might shake.

His anger had faded, replaced by emotions just as intense—but much more complicated. Frustration, and curiosity, and this unwanted desire that burned like fire.

His grip tightened on her just a moment before he relaxed his hold, stroking his hands up her bare arms to her shoulders.

She still didn’t move or speak. A blush stained her cheeks, the blood so close to the surface of her skin he could almost smell it.

He let his hands drift higher, circling her throat as though he might strangle her, and still she didn’t say a word.

Maybe she was under the same spell he was. Why else would she let him touch her like this, stroking the pad of his thumb softly over her jugular, her carotid…all the vulnerable places. He could feel the beat of her blood, the heady pulse that pumped life through her veins.

Afraid to spend too long there he let his hands drift downward, slowly, watching her face as he caressed her collarbones, so fragile and beautiful.

Then he moved lower again, and she still didn’t stop him. He came to the edge of her dress and ran a finger just under the feather-soft tulle, across the very top of her breasts. Her skin was smoother than silk and as pale as cream, but as he watched, a flush of desire spread over her in a hectic wave of red. When her breathing turned quick and shallow he had to grit his teeth to keep his fangs in check.

The material covering her torso was as insubstantial as a breath. He fought the urge to rip it away and instead stroked over it, covering her breasts with his hands and feeling their perfect curves through her dress.

Her nipples pebbled against his palms and she arched her back the slightest bit—the smallest motion, but he felt it. The movement was so unconsciously feminine that he growled in response, and his hands tightened on her soft flesh.

“Oh, my God.”

For a second he thought Jessica’s words were a reaction to his touch, and something inside him sang. But then he realized that she’d gone completely still.

“I think someone’s coming.”

He froze, too. And his enhanced hearing caught the sound of two voices, one of which he recognized.

“It’s your mother,” he said, taking a step back and trying to recover his composure. His hands still tingled from their contact with Jessica’s body. “She’s with someone—and they’re heading this way.”

Chapter Three

Jessica’s body and mind were in turmoil. She didn’t know what kind of madness had overtaken her in the last few minutes, but she’d better get a grip on herself, and fast.

Hawk was right—one of the approaching voices belonged to her mother.

“Much of the elite Green Fae training takes place here on my grounds,” Talia was saying. “We train with all weapons, old and new.”

“New?”

“Yes. The humans of this world have been quite inventive over the last few hundred years, and they’ve developed many ingenious ways of killing people at a distance. Have you no gunpowder or explosives in your realm?”

“We do not. I know of what you speak, but my people have rejected that kind of weaponry as destroying the sport of war. There is no honor or joy in killing by such means.”

“I heartily agree, Your Highness.”

Your Highness.

There was only one other person expected here tonight whom her mother would address by that honorific.

Her intended husband. The Dark Fae prince.

And now she could see the two of them, walking slowly across the grounds in their general direction. The queen’s guard walked several yards behind them.