Dark Promises (Dark #29) (24 page)

“I am certain my lifemate, out of respect for you and for me, will apologize to you later, Aleksei. We will leave you to your lifemate.”

A single sound of protest escaped Trixie's throat, but it was muffled and cut off as Fane marched her out of Aleksei's designated resting place, leaving him alone with his very disobedient woman.

Gabrielle looked very pale, the heavy fall of her dark, gleaming hair emphasizing her soft skin. The sweep of her very dark lashes did the same with her soft gray eyes. He resisted reaching out and curling his fingers around the nape of her neck as he wanted to do. He waited until he was certain they were alone and then his raw fury vibrated through the dwelling.

“Repeat what you just said to me,” he snapped, making it clear that if she did, there would be hell to pay.

Her gaze jumped to his. Held there. He could see the trepidation. Her
hands shook. Her body trembled. She leaned close to him, not away, surprising him. Her gaze remained steady on his.

“I've had enough and I don't really care much what you do to me. I was
trying
—working through things for
you
. It wasn't easy and I was terrified, but I was trying to find my way to you.”

He waited. Holding himself still. Locking his gaze with hers. Using a predatory, possessive stare he knew intimidated her. Still, she leaned even closer.

“I have a suggestion for you, Aleksei,” she bit out softly, her mouth inches from his.

“Be very careful,” he warned her. “You're already in trouble.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Then it won't matter when I give you my honest suggestion one way or the other. So here it is. Why don't you go to one of the cemeteries, you know, the really old ones, like say from the sixteenth century or even earlier. Dig yourself up another lifemate. There should be a lot of women to choose from. Breathe some life into her, or hey, maybe not. Maybe you should just prop her up in the middle of the carpet where she can't give you any lip. In any case, dead or alive, she might actually obey you like a trained idiot far better than the lifemate you've got now, because I can assure you, I will
not
.”

Before she could pull back, he curled his hand around the nape of her neck and held her in place. Through his palm he could feel the tremors running through her body. She totally intrigued him. Terrified, she still stood up to him. And she was terrified. She was also a natural submissive, which was a good thing given his dominant nature. She didn't even try to look away. She meant what she said. She'd hit a wall.

She more than intrigued him. Amused him.
Amused.
He had forgotten there was such an emotion. He fought the impulse to pull her close, but truthfully, her small rebellion captivated him. She knew he was powerful, far more powerful than she would ever become, even as his lifemate. He was enormously strong. Yet she stood up to him, giving him attitude in the face of his anger.

The blood rushed hotly through his veins. The dominant in him rose fast. Along with all of that, he wanted to smile. Dig up a dead body? Really? She wasn't nearly as afraid of him as she thought she was.

“I think I will forgo the dead body,” he said softly, his mouth against hers, “and put in a little time with the lifemate standing in front of me, seeing as how she is the
only
one.”

He moved with blinding speed, one arm sliding behind her back, the other behind her knees; before she could protest or try to fight him, he was in the air, taking her away from the monastery, away from any possible interference.

You want to sort things out, Gabrielle, you sort them out with me, not some stranger. A stranger, by the way, who was leading a group of assassins straight to our monastery. Those men all have weapons and the intention to kill us. All of us. You included.

She gave a little shocked gasp and clung to him, her arms circling his neck as he took her into the mist. Her body shivered against his and he automatically regulated her temperature for her.

They travel with a puppet of a vampire. The vampire calls himself Aron Mazur and he is an ancient, very dangerous. Andre is tracking Aron. The puppet is capable of walking in the sun and was created to aid Aron in finding and destroying us.

Gabrielle pushed her face against his throat, burying it there.

Fane and I met up with Andre. We destroyed the camp using natural means, but we were not able to kill the four hunters because Aron sent his pawns after us. There was a battle . . .

Her breath left her in a gasp and she raised her eyes to his. He read anxiety there. Her hands went to his shoulders, his arms, smoothed down his chest, looking for evidence of wounds. He nearly stopped her, but then it hit him. She was
worried
about him. That anxiety was for him. The concern was for him. He'd never had that. At least if he did, he didn't remember it.

I am fine. A few lacerations easily healed. Do not be upset.

He
liked
that she was concerned about him—maybe a little too much. He dropped his head over hers and nuzzled the top of her head with his chin as he took her a good distance away from vampires and hunters, to a place he had marked a hundred years earlier. It was high enough in the mountains and deep enough in the forest that he knew it would still be there, in spite of all the changes.

He was a dinosaur from ancient times caught in a modern world. He knew that. He knew he would have to come to terms with that now that he
had a lifemate and couldn't lock himself away from the encroaching modern values and changes. He knew those changes started with the woman in his arms. Still, he couldn't change his nature. He was a predator and he was a dominant. He was filled with darkness. He battled demons, and even with the finding of his lifemate, those demons still haunted him, haunted his soul.

He dropped down into the deeper forest, finding the cave he'd closed so many years earlier. It had everything for a perfect lair and he'd marked it well. He moved the large boulder away, took her inside and repositioned the boulder, adding both cover and safeguards to ensure Aron Mazur or his underlings wouldn't be able to accidently stumble across them.

In spite of the fact that he could see perfectly in the dark, he waved his hand to send sconces blazing along the narrow hall leading to the deep chamber. He had been in his woman's mind, if briefly, and she wasn't in the least bit as used to the sterile environment as he was.

Before they reached the chamber, he fixed that as well. The ceiling was high, the room long with a series of pools toward the back. One was large, the other two small, all of them hot and natural. He added a wide bed, one he had plans for, one just the right height. He hadn't taken her in a bed, but he knew humans used them, and she had been human.

Overhead he scattered stars across the ceiling, and he sent a light breeze to clear the air so that the sconces on the walls inside the chamber danced and flickered as they entered. He had added two chairs and a small fire as well. He'd seen rooms in houses and he created one similar to one he'd liked.

As he set her on her feet, Gabrielle looked around her. He caught a glimpse of her face and knew he'd done the right thing. She looked as if she could hardly believe her eyes.

“What is this place?”

“Our home for the moment. A safe one. We cannot leave the others too long. I will have to help Fane defend the ancients from the assassins, but there is no way those hunting us will be able to recover from our attack tonight. So,
kessake
, we have this night to continue our discussion without interruption.” Deliberately he kept his voice low. Neutral.

She raised her chin and went to step away from him. His hand snaked out and his fingers shackled her wrist, preventing movement.

“Dig up an old grave?” he repeated.

Her large gray eyes softened and he caught a hint of amusement. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe not so much now. I think the corpse would have been really happy with that carpet in your old place. I like this.” She looked around her again.

“Gabrielle.” He said her name in a low voice. Softly.

She turned back to him, her gaze a little wary. Finally. He was getting somewhere. He wanted her to see him. Just him.

He bent his head and took her mouth. There was no thought. His body just reacted, just needed, and he dragged her to him, his tongue stabbing deep, his mouth hot and urgent. She didn't hesitate. She opened for him. Went wild for him. Her mouth as ravenous as his.

It took restraint and discipline not to keep kissing her. His body was already hot and hard and aching. He knew he could have her. She would give herself to him without hesitation, just as she'd kissed him. Holding nothing back. Her body was his. She'd given him that, committed herself that far. He thought that would be enough for a while, but he found he wanted more. It was that little rebellion. The “dig up a grave” that got under his skin.

He lifted his head, his gaze searching hers. “Tell me what else you need tonight. Look around. Clothes? Anything at all to make you feel more comfortable.”

“I actually did ask my sister how to do the clothes thing,” Gabrielle admitted. “I like nice clothes. Although in the evenings when I was by myself, before I was Carpathian, I would sit in my comfy sweats and sip a glass of merlot. It was nice to wind down after dealing with hot viruses.”

“What else did you ask your sister to teach you?” He took her hand and tugged her across the room to the chairs in front of the crackling fire.

“The first thing I wanted to learn was shapeshifting. I loved the idea of flying. It seemed like it would be pure freedom.”

He had never thought of it that way. Not once. Shifting and flying was something he took for granted. The ability had never been a gift to him, but seeing it through her eyes, shapeshifting and soaring through the sky took on an entirely new meaning.

“When did you learn?”

She bit her lip and ducked her head so that clouds of gleaming black hair
fell around her face, hiding her expression from him. She waved her hand and instantly she was wearing soft drawstring pants that clung to her hips and shaped her legs. Her top was short, barely covering her midriff, exposing a small strip of intriguing skin.

“Gabrielle,” he prompted. “We made a pact to talk to each other. You do not like me in your mind. I have tried to be cognizant of your privacy, even when I did touch your mind.”

“Would you change these chairs to the picture I have in my mind?”

It was the first time she'd invited him to share her mind. It was simply the image of a chair, but she
invited
him. That, along with her clothes that showed more skin than he'd ever seen a woman expose, sent a rush of hot blood coursing through his veins.

“Is that outfit considered decent in the modern world? I am not complaining, but do women wear such clothes?”

She looked at him from under her long lashes. Her face was soft, her eyes gentle, turning his heart over. “Yes. Some women wear a lot less. I like these clothes when I'm just relaxing. This outfit would be considered casual.”

“These are not clothes of seduction?”

She shook her head slowly, and the expression creeping into her eyes and onto her face sent another wave of heat through him.

“Later I'll show you clothes designed to seduce a man.”

His cock reacted in spite of his resolve to keep his body under control. He wanted to give her a chance to settle with him. Intense sex every time they got together was great, but it wasn't getting him her heart—and he wanted her heart.

He sent her a slow smile. “I will look forward to that. Show me this chair you desire.”

He poured into her mind slowly. Easily. She had dropped her shields. He took care not to look around, not to pry. He wanted her to get used to giving him full access to all of her. Everything was his, and he wanted it. He wasn't going to accept limitations in their relationship. The chair she wanted looked very comfortable. Deep. Wide. Overstuffed. He switched out both chairs immediately, aware she hadn't answered his question about when she'd learned to shapeshift. She had avoided it. He didn't make the mistake of looking in her memories.

“Is this right?” he asked, putting his hand on the back of the chair nearest the fire.

She flashed a pleased smile and sank down. “It's perfect.”

He took the one beside hers. He had to admit, it was a very comfortable chair, almost decadent.

“Do you like it?”

Her voice was shy. Hesitant. He reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles before letting her go. Immediately both her hands went to her lap, her fingers twisting together.

“Very much. When did your sister teach you about shapeshifting?” He kept his voice gentle, knowing he usually sounded as if he were making demands or giving orders.

She moistened her lips and looked up at him, still nervous, still not relaxing the way she did when he held her.

He tipped her face up to his. “Settle, Gabrielle. You are safe with me.”

She started to reply, bit it back and took a deep breath.

“You have to be able to talk to me. We are just talking, getting to know each other. I respect the fact that you prefer me to wait to share your mind. If that would be easier for you . . .”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I'm not there yet.”

“I see that,
kislány
. We are just talking.”

She nodded. “I know. I do know that. It's just that . . .” She raised her eyes to his. “You said you were going to punish me. Well. Maybe not in those words, but you were angry with me and said if I didn't do what you said . . .” She trailed off again.

“And you're nervous about that?”

She nodded. Bit her lip. Twisted her fingers in her lap. He laid his hand gently over hers, stilling her fingers.