Dark Awakening (40 page)

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Authors: Kendra Leigh Castle

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Dark Awakening
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The empty places inside him still ached like open wounds. Something was missing. He just wished he knew what it was.

A soft breath of wind ruffled through his hair, bringing with it a whiff of scent that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

Then he heard the voices.

“There’s no place to run to now, is there?” That was a gravelly male voice, reeking of self-satisfaction. Its owner gave a low and vicious chuckle. “You’re going to have to accept me. I’ve caught you. It’s my right.”

A female voice responded, and a pleasant shiver rippled through Jaden’s body at the low, melodious sound of it.

“You have no rights with me. And chasing me down like prey isn’t going to get you what you want.”

He was almost certain he’d heard that voice before, though he couldn’t place it. What Jaden
could
place, however, was the scent that had his hackles rising and the adrenaline flooding his system.

Werewolves.

Jaden’s lips curled, and he had to fight the instinctive urge to hiss. Not only were the wolves vilified by vampires as savages, banned from their cities under penalty of death, but as a cat-shifter, Jaden hated his uncontrollable physical reaction to the smell of their musk. He had two options: fight or flight. It was less trouble to run. But this was his territory now, vampire territory. And these wolves had a hell of a lot of nerve coming into it.

Jaden was moving before he could think better of it. His feet made no sound on the pavement as he headed for the parking lot behind the building. And as he slipped into shadow, he listened.

“You can make this easy or hard, honey. But you’re going to have me one way or the other. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

A low growl from the female. A warning. “I’m not about to take a backseat to some social-climbing stray. I don’t want a mate.”

The male’s voice went thick and rough, as though he was fighting a losing battle with the beast within. “My family is plenty good enough for an Alpha’s daughter. You should be glad it’s me, Lyra. I won’t be as rough as some. And you and I both know there’s no way the pack is ever going to have a female Alpha. There’s too much at stake to let the weak lead.”

Lyra…
The pieces clicked into place, and Jaden’s stomach sank like a stone.

He did know her. And that brief meeting had put him in one of the fouler moods of his unnatural life.

Memories surfaced of a Chicago safe house, full of vampires in hiding, in trouble, on the run. And it had also been a hiding place for a female werewolf with a sharp tongue and a nasty attitude. Rogan, the owner of the safe house, had mentioned something about Lyra being a future pack leader… right after Jaden had demanded she leave the room.

Lyra had gone, though she hadn’t taken the slight quietly. And now she was here, in the seat of the Lilim. It was almost inconceivable. Jaden wondered briefly if Lyra hadn’t hunted him here to finish their brief altercation. That would be like a werewolf, brutish and nonsensical. But no, Jaden realized as Lyra and the male who was accosting her came into view. Lyra seemed to have bigger problems than any grudge she bore him.

Jaden kept to the shadows, melting into darkness as effectively as he did in his feline form. He now had a clear view of a tall, overmuscled Neanderthal who was wearing the typical smug sneer. A predator. Jaden had gotten very good at identifying them, being that he was one. Lyra he saw only from behind, but he would have known her
anywhere. Long and lean and tall, with a wild tangle of dark hair shot through with platinum that tumbled halfway down her back. He let his eyes skim the length of her, suddenly apprehensive—hoping that his reaction to her the last time had been some kind of sick fluke. It had been easy enough to dismiss then. Being under constant threat of annihilation could do strange things to a man. But he knew it had fueled his anger at her presence in the safe house.

And now, just as before, the sight of her sent desire cascading through him in a wild rush like no other woman had provoked in him.

Jaden’s sudden arousal mingled with a punch of bloodlust, creating a tangled mix of wants and needs that had his breath beginning to hitch in his chest. He moved slowly, walking the increasingly fine edge between man and beast as he struggled to stay concealed. He remembered more than just his brief meeting with her, no matter how he’d tried to block it all out. He’d had dreams—bodies tangled together, biting, clawing, licking…

He couldn’t truly want a werewolf, Jaden told himself, appalled. Apart from being forbidden by both races, it was just
wrong
. Wasn’t he screwed up enough?

It was a relief when the Neanderthal provided a distraction from his thoughts. The male moved like lightning, and far more gracefully than his bulky form would suggest. A hand shot out, snatching something from around Lyra’s neck. He dangled it in front of her, a silver pendant hanging from a leather cord. She tried to snatch it back, but the male held it high above his head like a schoolyard bully.

“How
dare
you.”

“It’s just an old necklace,” he said with a smirk. “If you want it that badly, come and get it.”

Jaden could hear the helpless outrage in her voice when she spoke.

“My father—”

“Isn’t here right now, is he? No one is.” The Neanderthal shifted, crooked a finger at her. His stance said he knew he’d won. “I’ve got a hotel room. Or we can do it right here. Your choice.”

His grin was foul. She seemed to think so too.

“Like hell, Mark.”

Lyra’s muscles tensed. She was going to run. What choice did she have? But the other man knew it. And while she might be fast, there was no way she could match his strength.

Jaden hissed out a breath through gritted teeth. He was no hero. He might be nothing more than a lowblood vampire, a gutter cat with a gift for the hunt. But even among his kind, there were unspoken rules. And something in Lyra’s voice, the hopeless outrage of someone railing against a fate she knew was inevitable, struck a chord deep within him. He had spent centuries being pushed and pulled by forces he couldn’t fight. No one had ever given a damn what
he
had wanted, not from the first.

Gods help him with what he was about to get in the middle of.

Lyra spun, leaping away with a startling amount of grace. The man lunged almost as quickly. His hand caught in all the glorious hair, fisting so that her head snapped back. Jaden heard her pained cry, heard the man’s roar of victory. Then his hands were on her, grabbing, tearing…

One look at Lyra’s eyes, wild and afraid, and nothing on earth could have prevented him from stepping in. Jaden sprang from the shadows with a vicious snarl, bloodred
fury hazing the darkness. He landed directly in front of the grappling pair, fangs elongated and bared. The shock of his appearance gave Lyra the opening he’d hoped for. She twisted away, but not quickly enough. The male she’d called Mark took her down with a quick clout to the side of the head before whipping back around. Jaden watched, an odd twist of pain in his chest, as Lyra gave a single, shocked sob and collapsed to her knees.

Still, Jaden had gotten part of what he wanted. Lyra could no longer be used as a shield.

Recognition dawned in Mark’s eyes a split second before the instinctive hatred did. Then another set of fangs were bared. Eyes flashed hot gold. The werewolf gave a guttural growl and reached for Jaden, long claws already extended from his fingertips. Jaden hissed as he stepped out of reach and waited for his chance. Jaden knew from experience that a wolf would always go for brute force over finesse. And against a vampire, it was almost always the wolf’s downfall.

This time was no different.

Mark lunged, swiped. Jaden ducked easily and extended claws of his own, drawing first blood across the vulnerable belly. The thin ribbons of blood darkening his T-shirt seemed to incense his adversary, and he launched himself at Jaden, only to find himself with a face full of asphalt. Unable to help himself, Jaden laughed, though it sounded nasty and hollow to his own ears.

“Hmm. I think someone’s going home alone tonight.”

The werewolf dragged himself off the ground, face bloodied now, and growled at his tormentor. “Get out of here, bloodsucker. This is wolf business.”

“Really? Looks like garden-variety jackassery to me,”
Jaden said, watching Lyra out of the corner of his eye. She had shifted to a sitting position and was holding her head in her hands, staying very still. Jaden didn’t know how badly she was hurt. It was so like a wolf to try to win a woman by damaging her. Regardless, it was time to run this bastard off and give Lyra what care she needed.

He tried to ignore the way his heart began to stutter in his chest at the thought.

“Leave now,” Jaden said, his voice soft, deadly. “Or I kill you.”

Mark snorted. “Skinny piece of shit bloodsucker like you? I don’t think—”

His words were cut off abruptly by two kicks, one to his gut and one across his thick head. At that, he went down like a ton of bricks with only a soft grunt for a response. This time, he stayed down. Jaden glared down at him for a moment, only barely denying himself the extra kick he wanted to give the wolf, just for good measure. But the stupid bastard should feel lousy enough when he awakened facedown in the parking lot in the morning. While it would be momentarily satisfying, killing him was nothing more than a messy waste of time.

And despite his disturbing attraction to Lyra, Jaden had no interest in getting the Lilim into a pissing match with whatever scruffy pack of werewolves this loser belonged to.

Satisfied that they were now, for all practical purposes, alone, Jaden moved to Lyra’s side and crouched down beside her. A light, intoxicating scent drifted from her, making his mouth water. Apples, he remembered. Sweet, tart apples, with something earthier beneath. Strangely enough, he felt no urge to run, to hiss and spit. It was a
good thing he hadn’t gotten this close the last time. He might have done something really stupid.

Though he supposed his current actions qualified.

“Lyra?” he asked, trying to keep his voice low and soothing. He wasn’t sure how successful he was—he was way out of practice at damage control. Usually, he
was
the damage. “Are you all right? Do you need a doctor?” Wolves were self-healers, he knew, but it could take a little longer, which was dangerous when the wound was severe.

She said nothing, not moving a muscle, and Jaden’s concern deepened. He reached for her, momentarily overcome by the urge to make even the simplest physical connection. But his hand stilled in midair when she finally lifted her head to look at him. And whatever he’d expected to see—fear, confusion, even a little gratitude—none of it was in evidence as he looked into Lyra’s burning, furious eyes glowing fire-bright in the dark.

“Don’t even think about touching me,
cat
,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

THE DISH
 
Where authors give you the inside scoop!

From the desk of Vicky Dreiling
 

Dear Reader,

 

While writing my first novel HOW TO MARRY A DUKE, I decided my hero Tristan, the Duke of Shelbourne, needed a sidekick. That bad boy sidekick was Tristan’s oldest friend Marc Darcett, the Earl of Hawkfield, and the hero of HOW TO SEDUCE A SCOUNDREL. Hawk is a rogue who loves nothing better than a lark. Truthfully, I had to rein Hawk in more than once in the first book as he tried repeatedly to upstage all the other characters.

Unlike his friend Tristan, Hawk is averse to giving up his bachelor status. He’s managed to evade his female relatives’ matchmaking schemes for years. According to the latest tittle-tattle, his mother and sisters went into a decline upon learning of his ill-fated one-hour engagement. Clearly, this is a man who values his freedom.

My first task was to find the perfect heroine to foil him. Who better than the one woman he absolutely must never touch? Yes, that would be his best friend’s sister, Lady Julianne. After all, it’s in a rake’s code of conduct that friends’ sisters are forbidden. Unbeknownst to Hawk, however, Julianne has been planning their nuptials for four long years. I wasn’t quite sure how Julianne would manage this feat, given Hawk’s fear of catching
wife-itis
.
After a great deal of pacing about, the perfect solution popped into my head. I would use the time-honored trick known as
The Call to Adventure
. When Tristan, who can not be in London for the season, proposes that Hawk act as Julianne’s unofficial guardian, Hawk’s bachelor days are numbered.

In addition to these plans, I wanted to add in a bit of fun with yet another Regency-era spoof of modern dating practices. I recalled an incident in which one of my younger male colleagues complained about that dratted advice book for single ladies,
The Rules.
I wasn’t very sympathetic to his woes about women ruling guys. After all, reluctant bachelors have held the upper hand for centuries. Thus, I concocted
The Rules
in Regency England.

Naturally, the road to true love is fraught with heartbreak, mayhem, and, well, a decanter of wine. Matters turn bleak for poor Julianne when Hawk makes his disinterest clear after a rather steamy waltz. I knew Julianne needed help, and so I sent in a wise woman, albeit a rather eccentric one. Hawk’s Aunt Hester, a plain-spoken woman, has some rather startling advice for Julianne. Left with only the shreds of her pride, Julianne decides to write a lady’s guide to seducing scoundrels into the proverbial parson’s mousetrap. My intrepid heroine finds herself in hot suds when all of London hunts for the anonymous author of that scandalous publication,
The Secrets of Seduction
. At all costs, Julianne must keep her identity a secret—especially from Hawk, who is determined to guard her from his fellow scoundrels. But can he guard his own heart from the one woman forbidden to him?

My heartfelt thanks to all the readers who wrote to let
me know they couldn’t wait to read HOW TO SEDUCE A SCOUNDREL. I hope you will enjoy the twists and turns that finally lead to happily ever after for Hawk and Julianne.

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