Companions (5 page)

"It's him! He's here!" Lawrence shouted out the warning.

Selena heard them behind her. She also heard the edge of terror in the monsters' voices as a
name was repeated, passing like a wave through the crowd. The one holding her scared them
nearly to death. If they scared her, and he scared them, just how bad was he? What was the
monsters' monster going to do to her?

I might do a great many things.

His voice was a silken caress in her mind. And howcome he could read her thoughts when the
other ones couldn't?

Stop that!

You started it,
his thought answered hers.

He turned her so that her back was pressed against his chest. He put one arm tightly around her
waist. The stair tread was narrow, so they were of necessity very close. Necessary or not, the
press of her hot flesh against his sent a shiver of desire through him. The warmth of his flesh sent
a shiver through her.

The leader of the vampires made her way to the front of the crowd. She put her hands on her hips
and looked up, past Selena to the vampire holding her. "You're late, old friend."

His breath brushed Selena's ear when he spoke. "Caught in traffic."

"Caught the mouse we were chasing, as well." She held out a hand. "Now, if you'll just hand her
back."

"She's keeping me warm."

Page 20

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Maria's smile didn't waver, though annoyance radiated from her. "But I'm giving her to
Lawrence, my dear."

Lawrence didn't look happy, but he nodded rather than contradict his leader.

"You always were a matchmaker, Maria." He had one arm around Selena's waist; his hand
hovered just beneath her breast. The touch, even the hint of a touch, was disturbingly intimate.

"She's not Lawrence's type."

"I'm Type O-negative, to be precise," Selena whispered angrily.

"Universal donor," he whispered back, amused by her grim humor. "Slut." She banged her head
back hard against his shoulder.

"She's no innocent we abducted for the hunt," Mariaexplained. "We didn't bring her here. The
situation is of her own making. We caught her spying on us. She won't respond to persuasion."

"She's a cop," Lawrence added with a bitter sneer.

"That is a problem."

"So we can either take her or kill her," Maria went on. "What other choice do we have, my
dear?"

"This has nothing to do with why you're here," Lawrence insisted. He looked around at the rest
of the nest. "None of us is involved in that."

"A cop would make a dangerous companion." His hand had settled over her breast. Selena was
aware that he was aware that her nipple was hard and hot against his palm. "So I think I'll take
you for myself."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Selena scrubbed her hands over her tear-streaked face and swore some more.

The worst part about this recurring nightmare wasn't waking up covered in sweat, scared out of her mind and with a racing heart. Selena almost didn't mind the terror. It was the unbearable arousal that drove her up the wall, at least out of her bed to stumble across the dark bedroom into the bathroom.

She washed the sweat off her face, which woke her up further. That really wasn't what she wanted.

What she wanted here, alone, in the dead of night, was black oblivion. No dreams, no memories. She sure as hell didn't want to think, and being awake meant thinking. She was trembling, her body aching and alive, and she hated it, wanted to divorce her mind from singed, singing nerve endings and the siren call that was never answered. That she never wanted answered, but still, she couldn't help but radiate —

She stepped into the shower still wearing the T-shirt she slept in and stood in a cascade of cold water that did nothing for her body but get it wet. The burning didn't go away; it never did. Masturbation didn't help, so she didn't bother. She stood with her hands braced against the tiles and tried to get over it.

Instead, as her senses gradually grew sharper, she began to realize that the longing was more than inside
Page 21

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

her. It was in the air around her, the water washing over her. When she closed her eyes, it was a presence she felt on her skin rather than icy needles of water. The scent she breathed in was the musk of sex rather than the aroma of soap or shampoo. This wasn't all her doing, and it wasn't a dream. Her imagination was not of the vivid sort. She'd found out she had some gifts — curses — she didn't know she had, but Selena Crawford never imagined things.

When she turned off the water, she knew. She wasn't alone. She wasn't the only one
consumed
with this vivid need.

She jerked back the shower curtain. The bedroom was darker than it should be beyond the open bathroom door. She pulled off the soaked shirt and dropped it on the floor. "Steve?" she said, walking naked through the doorway. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She always called him Steve.

She didn't pretend she was happy to see him. That didn't stop her from being all over him the moment he stepped out of the shadows. It didn't stop him pulling her down on the bed. He thought that maybe he could stop himself if he wanted to, but if that was true, he'd have an answer for her question. What the hell he was doing here was all too evident, especially since he wasn't wearing any more clothes than she was. He'd shed them as soon as he'd come in the window, while she was still in the shower, while they were both still in the clutches of a dream that was no dream at all.

There were no words between them as they made love and no thoughts, either. But for the low, urgent sounds of passion, they moved in isolated silence. Neither wanted the act; both needed it.

And the taste of her! Sweet wine that almost made him believe this curse was the gift of a goddess. He was blood drunk the moment he pierced the skin of her breast. In that moment, she found the strength to dig her short nails deep into his shoulders. It was not possible for a mortal to wound him, but Selena wasn't one to pay attention to limitations set by god, man, or monster.

You belong to me.

I've heard it before.

Her answering thought made him laugh. Selena was the only person in the world who could make him laugh. Laughter drove out some of the beast, enough so that he lifted his head reluctantly from the puncture wounds he'd been suckling. He'd taken no more than a few drops, and he'd given back nothing.

Not this time,
he swore.

The actual swearing came from Selena, even as she made the vow he was bound to eventually break.

"Goddamn, it! You want to fuck, or do you want to think?"

He realized he'd risen to kneel between her widespread thighs. For a moment, he looked down on her as if from a mile away. Her skin was white as milk against the dark covers, and there was so very much of it. She was a wide-hipped woman with large breasts and long, long legs. She had hard muscle rather than feminine softness, and the lines of scars from old wounds were beauty marks to him. She looked up at him with blue eyes, electric with hate and passion, and held up a hand. The gesture was more demand than pleading. Any moment now she was going to grab him by the hair and pull him down on top of her.

Page 22

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

He was breathing hard, but he managed to draw in enough breath for irony. "I don't suppose you could manage terror or gratitude."

He got a sharp punch in the gut for his trouble. Laughing once more, he sank down on top of her, into her, both her body and her mind, and she opened both to him.

"You need a haircut."

It was a ludicrous thing to say. Worse, it sounded so domestic. They did not have a domestic relationship nor any relationship at all. She should be asking him what he was doing in town, or, more importantly, when he was leaving.

"A man's strength is in his hair."

His hair was shoulder length, and her fingers couldn't seem to stop stroking through it. When they'd met, his hair had been short, combed back off his high forehead. If he wasn't a vampire, he'd be bald. "Don't give me that Samson and Delilah crap."

He lifted his head to look at her. "I was quoting Ozzy Osbourne."

"Isn't he dead or at least bald by now?"

He shrugged. "Don't know."

They were being talkative. Selena wondered if he found that as worrisome as she did.

Yes.

Telling him to stay out of her head at this point was as futile as telling oxygen to stay out of her lungs.

They'd made love for a long time, and she ached all over, partly from lack of practice, partly because making love with a vampire is not a gentle thing.

You've had a lot of experience with vampires, have you?

This time she said, "Get out of my head."

He yawned. "I noticed you didn't say to get out of your bed."

Selena pushed him all the way off her and sat up. She looked at the clock. She glanced out the window, where night was beginning to fade. 'Tell me you're not staying."

A moment later, he was on his feet without her having seen him move. "I'm not staying."

That was something to be thankful for. She wanted him out of her life as much as she'd longed for him to return to her a few hours before. He'd explained to her long ago how the craving was because he'd made her drink his blood on that first wild night together. It was what bound her to him. There was no emotional entanglement, despite what they'd been through two years before. Some lives had ended, some had gotten saved, all in a day's — night's — work for a pair of cops, never mind which side of the divide between mortal and monster each was on.

Page 23

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

What they were left with was a craving worse than any drug. It was an addiction without a cure or treatment programs. Selena almost laughed at the notion of getting up at some twelve-step meeting and announcing that she was addicted to sex with a five-hundred-year-old creature of the night. One that she was currently thinking about asking if he wanted a snack, a cup of coffee, to move in, let her wait on him hand and foot.

Yeah. Right.

That was the bloodbond talking.
She
didn't want him to stay. It was her cop's curiosity that made her ask, "What are you doing in town? Does Ariel know you're — "

"How do you know about Ariel?" His blue eyes narrowed to slits. "Does Ariel know about you?"

She wasn't sure what Ariel thought she was, some strig's girl, she supposed. The Enforcer of the City knew she was a homicide cop. She knew about the homicides Ariel sometimes allowed. They had a certain uneasy understanding. "We've had some professional contact," she admitted.

His wide mouth narrowed to match his eyes, but he didn't pursue the subject. "How's your aunt?"

Selena used the adrenaline from the stab of fear to roll off the bed and stand on the opposite side from him. "Why?"

His lips quirked up just a little, in something resembling a smile. "She keeps putting love spells on me."

"Oh." After a moment, curiosity got the better of her. "Are they working?"

"I'm here."

He continued to dress slowly, like a strip in reverse, watching her without saying anything else. She didn't know if he was deliberately teasing her or if the heat that still glowed through her was making her hallucinate. He had wide shoulders, but the rest of him was all long limbs and wiry muscle. She'd always had a thing for arms and hands, and found Steve's particularly attractive.

Watching him move was pure pleasure, until Selena reminded herself of the times she'd seen him still as stone, his skin as pale as blueveined marble. Maybe he wasn't exactly dead — no one could fuck like that and be dead — but he wasn't human. And what was between them was —

"Icould just as easily enjoy your pain."
She remembered him saying that when they first met.
"You'd
love me while I tortured you, if that's what I wanted from you."

At least he'd never made a secret that he could be an utter and complete bastard.

Steve smirked, letting her know that he knew what she was thinking. Selena pulled herself away from watching him and put on some underwear. Standing around naked in the presence of her lord and master didn't interest her at the moment.

She couldn't help but wonder if Aunt Catie did have something to do with Steve's late-night visit. Aunt Catie was a very good witch indeed. Of course, good witches weren't supposed to provide their goddaughters with their own private incubus, Selena amended. Okay, Catie was a talented witch, if not exactly a candidate for sainthood. Her aunt should not know about the existence of the strigoi, either, but she did, and as far as Selena knew, no Enforcer had ever come after her.

Page 24

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv
erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"I pity anyone who'd try." Istvan couldn't help but tease her about the strong women in her family.

Selena's aunt reminded him of his own mother, who'd also made her living telling fortunes. "A fine woman. It's a wonder no one's taken her for a companion yet. All the women in your family have the — "

"Don't say it! Don't you
dare!"

"Not I. I have — "

"Leave them alone!"

Her fury blazed around her, so much that the fiery color of her hair gave the impression of a crown of flames. He loved her deep emotions, absorbed them like a drug, but he truly hadn't meant to anger her.

He decided not to mention the wedding invitation, though he did wonder where Aunt Catie had gotten his post office box address.