Dark Secrets (13 page)

Before I could shove her away, she stepped close and pressed
her breasts against me. Ella rose on the tips of her toes, dragging her body
along mine, and licked my bottom lip.

My craving for violence shifted into a deeper, more
demanding need. I growled against her mouth and shifted my grip. I let go of
her arms, grabbed the back of her head with one hand, her ass with the other
and took control of the kiss.

Her tongue was a wet glide against mine. Ella gave as good
she got. My cock hardened, straining against my jeans. I spun us, backing Ella
against the closest surface. We ripped at each other’s clothes in a tangle of
hands, legs and mouths. Fabric tore—falling to the ground in tatters. Violence
radiated between us and there was nothing I could do to dampen it.

As if she read my mind, knew what I needed, Ella bit my
lower lip. Pain pulsed, the sting calming the beast inside me. I nipped her
back and reveled in the breathy moan she released. It wasn’t enough.

I fisted her hair, the strands so fucking soft, and yanked
her head back so I could force my tongue deeper into her mouth. Between us, I
shoved her bra down and cupped the swell of her breast. She pushed into my
hand, silently begging for more. I tweaked her nipple, pinching the bud until
her pleasure and need vibrated through me.

She moaned and palmed my cock, stroking the flesh from top
to bottom, curving over the head the way I’d do it. Pleasure gripped me, had me
thrusting into her grip. Our coupling wasn’t going to be sweet or gentle. No. I
needed to feel her, to make her hurt, to make her scream, to possess her. I
wanted to fuck her pussy and then claim her ass before coming deep inside.

I batted her hand out of the way and spun her face first
into the wall. She arched her back, wiggling her sweet ass in invitation, as if
she knew my dark desires. I stroked a finger down her spine, between the cheeks
of her ass—ever so slightly grazing her anus. She preened under my touch.

Mine.

“Spread your legs, let me see your pussy,” I ordered.

She complied, shifting until her wet sex was on full
display. I stroked the flesh between her legs, playing two digits through her
slick arousal. I sank to my knees behind her, the stone floor hard, and drew my
lips down the curve of her ass to her inner thigh. The imprint of my teeth,
forever branded into her skin, filled me with perverse pleasure. I traced the
mark with my tongue and she shuddered.

I grabbed her hips and turned her to face me. At the swipe
of my tongue against her clit, she cried out my name. I sucked the tight pearl
into my mouth and flicked the sensitive bud until her body stiffened. Her
scream turned raw when I continued to lick and suckle the flesh of her pussy. I
didn’t stop, didn’t let her catch her breath. I drank her in, spread her wide
and delved my tongue into her slit to get more of the honey-and-peach taste
that was uniquely hers.

Fuck, she was exquisite.

Ella shook, her scream cutting out as intense waves of
pleasure crashed over her.

“Fuck me, Micah. Please. I need you.”

I ignored her and flicked my tongue against her tight bundle
of nerves. I slid a finger inside her scalding depths, making sure she was
ready for my cock. As much as I wanted to dominate her ass, it was new
territory for us and I didn’t want to hurt her by rushing it without the proper
prep. Ella moaned and threw her head back, pumping her hips against my fingers
and tongue. I kept stroking her, working her G-spot until she came again and I
felt the last spasms inside her recede. Withdrawing my fingers, I drew them
into my mouth and savored the last of her pleasure.

I hooked her leg around my waist before grabbing my cock and
positioning the tip at her entrance. I plunged deep, filling her in one long
thrust that stole my breath. I pulled out and rammed inside her without
finesse, just pure, raw hunger. Lifting her completely off her feet, I pulled
away from the wall. She wrapped her legs around my hips and dug her nails into
my back, holding tight while I drove deep.

The sounds of pleasure filled the room, creating a private
sanctuary where only we existed.

“Yes, oh God, yes. Harder.”

I grunted my approval. Where I held her ass, bouncing her
slight frame up and down on my shaft, my fingers no doubt bruised her skin. I
knew she’d have marks from this claiming. Pleasure mounted. Her pussy clenched
around my dick. The first sparks of ecstasy shocked through me.

“So damn tight.”

I pulled all the way out so I wouldn’t come, leaving her
empty and wanting. Once the urge to climax waned, I turned her around and
positioned her hands on the wall.

“Stay just like this,” I instructed.

In response, she wiggled her backside and arched her head back
with a needy plea for me to fuck her. The long strands of her hair trailed down
her spine and I admired the sight before me. Nothing had ever looked more
alluring. I kicked her legs apart and took up where I’d left off—my cock deep
inside her wet, hot pussy. Ella rocked her body against me, speeding the
momentum of our coupling. The sight of my dick moving between her thighs heated
me from the inside out.

The resonation of my thrusts rippled through me as I pulled
out and slammed home. Ella cried out, her inner muscles going into spasms
around my prick. The crown of my cock rubbed her sweet spot with every
dominating thrust.

“Yes,” she screamed.

I pulled out, rammed in. The hard, furious tempo I set had
my balls tightening.

She cried out in pleasure, screamed for me to take her
harder and faster. Jesus, I was going to come if she didn’t shut up. She was
too hot. Too wet. Too damn tight. With a growl, I pulled out and dropped to my
knees.

I spread her thighs wide and pressed my face to her
quivering mound. Fuck. I tongued her slit and used three fingers to pleasure
her until my orgasm faded. She writhed against me, a sexy gyration of her hips
that didn’t help calm my racing heart. She was too damn addicting to stay away
from. I stood and thrust my cock inside her, my eyes closing at the way she
sucked me in and held me captive.

Every time I touched her, felt her gripping me, my pulse
beat faster and faster. Ella sobbed in pleasure, on the verge of coming again,
her unmediated response filling me with satisfaction.

Every muscle in my body flexed as I cupped the flesh at her
hips and thrust inside of her with more determination. I let every ounce of my
frustration, anger and violence feed our frenzy. She was crying out, louder and
louder, screaming for it harder and faster. I met each one of her requests
until my lungs burned and I could no longer breathe.

Pleasure mounted. My orgasm hovered, waiting for that split
second when I dropped my guard. I leaned over her and closed my teeth around
the back of her neck, pinning her in place when my climax ripped through me.
For a few glorious seconds I was completely free. A fierce, animalistic noise
reverberated through the room as I emptied my seed inside her.

Ella sobbed, her body milking mine as she orgasmed one final
time. I pulled out and spun her around, pressing my mouth to hers before she
could utter a single word. I met her tongue with mine and stroked. Ella moaned
into me and scraped her nails through my hair, sending little jolts of pleasure
down my spine.

I gripped her thighs and lifted. Using the wall as leverage,
I pushed her against it and plunged inside her dripping pussy. Mouths fused,
tongues dancing to a rhythm we’d perfected, I made love to her all over again
with the sure, strong strokes of a man who knew his lover inside and out.

I pulled her from the wall and walked blindly to the bed. We
fell onto the mattress with me still buried inside her. I grabbed her hands,
locked our fingers together and brought them above her head. I’d watched her
almost die in this bed. Watched Julian try to take back what was mine.

I nipped Ella’s swollen bottom lip and pulled away to stare
into her eyes. Her gaze was open, honest, raw with emotion. The depth of her
love filled me. I would never tire of this, never get enough of her or the way
she opened for me. The way she fit me.

Too afraid of fucking the moment up, I kept my mouth shut
and set about showing her the depth of my hunger. Bond or no bond, I loved her
with my entire soul. Something powerful passed between us, something words
couldn’t convey. Over and over, I stroked into her. She set my blood on fire
with pleasure. I’m not sure how long we lost ourselves in each other, letting
the world around us move forward while we stayed locked together in this moment
in time where nothing mattered but us.

A slow, deep orgasm built. Ella’s eyes drifted shut as her
pussy clenched around me in the first pulses of orgasm.

“Look at me,” I demanded.

I grabbed her thigh and pushed it up to her stomach so I
could fill her deeper. I thrust, our gazes never breaking. My climax hit me
hard and the second I came, I threw my head back and released not just my come
into her, but everything I was.

Man. Demon. Fuckup. Protector. Killer. Lover.

Hers.

Micah collapsed on top of me, crushing me beneath him. He
buried his face against my neck and rubbed his coarse, stubbly jaw against my
tender skin. I stroked my hand up and down his sweat-slicked spine in a languid
rhythm until our heartbeats slowed. The vibrating tension he’d radiated no
longer prickled my skin with electricity.

“Better?” I asked.

He tightened the arms he had wrapped around me, crushing me
to him as if he feared I’d disappear. I could count on one hand the times he’d
truly let himself be vulnerable, and this was one of them. If it were possible,
I, woman, vampire, queen, fell a little bit more in love.

His voice was a sexy rasp, husky and deep, that had my girly
bits pulsing. “Yeah.”

My chest constricted and I struggled between nestling in
closer or shoving him off me so I could breathe. I settled in. Breathing was
overrated anyway. Micah, as if sensing my indecision—or maybe sensing I was
moments away from oxygen deprivation—rolled us over and tucked me into his
side. He pressed a kiss to my temple and we stared up at the stone ceiling of
the Vault.

Purple velvet drapes covered the pocked walls chiseled from
stone. The shade matched the rugs and the bedding. The room was just as I
remembered it from my last stay here, a tacky bordello. At least this time I
wasn’t about to die and at the mercy of my sire.

Micah’s husky voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Richard is
involved with the hospital.”

My blood ran cold and when I would have sat up, Micah pinned
me in place.

“How do you know?”

“The handwriting in my mother’s file, what was documented…”
He swallowed. “Richard wrote it, he was there.”

Richard. No longer his father.

I broke free of Micah’s hold and twisted so I lay partially
on top of him, facing him. Hatred had his eyes swirling with color. A cold,
furious ball started in my gut as I recalled the looks on those women’s faces.
Snippets of details from the folders resurfaced and merged with what I’d seen
in the orderly’s head.

Women strapped to tables, legs spread wide. Sobs. Syringes
full of experimental serums. Miscarriages. Babies—stillborn—callously thrown
into hazard bins for incineration.

“You’re serious?” I asked, my voice breaking a little.

He nodded and stroked his hand down my back before trailing
a finger up the indent of my spine. The emotions in his gaze shifted. Anger
melted into something else, something that looked a lot like guilty relief.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got proof now. I don’t know if Richard orchestrated
this…program…but he sure as fuck knew about it, participated in it, kept it a
secret. I recognized a few other women I’d remembered being told were dead—some
of the girls are related to members of the council.”

“I saw a girl I used to know in one of the files. I made her
life miserable during training because I thought she was weak.”

“It’s what we were taught, that the strong survive and the
weak die.”

I pictured Roy lying on the floor, his body convulsing.
I
love you girls.
He’d wanted us to know, had always made sure to tell me and
Hannah how much we meant to him.

“Maybe you were taught that, but I wasn’t. Roy brought me up
to protect the weak.” I cringed, knowing I hadn’t always followed my uncle’s
way of life. I chewed on my bottom lip and remembered the terror on the guard’s
face, the way he’d looked at me, how I’d fed off his fear. “Do you think I’m a
monster?”

Micah let out a short bark of laughter that was void of
humor. “You’re asking me that when I was the one who almost bashed in some guy’s
skull?”

At least he hadn’t mind-raped anyone.

I swallowed, wondered if I should bring up my new superpower
that was less super and more screwed up. “But you didn’t bash his head in.”

“Only because you stopped me.”

I laid my head down on his chest and ran my fingers through
the spattering of thick hair. “I gave Hannah your mother’s file and a few others
before all hell broke loose.”

He buried his fingers in my tresses and cupped the back of
my head. “I say we lay this out for the council—bring in the women to testify.
That place has to be shut down.”

God, could we really get through this? Deal with Julian and
the coronation ceremony—if I even survived his party—and get Marianna coherent
enough to speak at my trial? Get Roy healthy and recovered from his heart
attack? A part of me was definitely in the “yes” camp.

I moved on top of him until I straddled his hips. His cock,
even when he wasn’t hard, was warm against my still-pulsing sex. I pushed the
too-long strands of his golden hair behind his ear and melted into him, giving
him my full weight. “I love you.”

He cupped my ass in his palm. “I love you too. Jesus fuck, I
love you. I swear, we get through the next couple of days with Julian and then
your trial and we’ll go away somewhere. You need a break. I miss my emotionally
void woman who used to make fun of other chicks who cried when the wind blew.”

I narrowed my eyes out of principle. So what if he was right?
“Ass.”

“That’s right, baby, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
He sucked my lower lip between his teeth, gave it a light nip.

I fought my smile, lost the battle when he grinned up at me.
Between us, his cock lengthened.

A quick, brisk knock sounded. It was our only warning before
the door opened. Before I could blink, Micah rolled me to the side and whipped
a sheet up over my body.

Castro strolled into the room and focused his sole attention
on Micah, as if there wasn’t anything else in the entire world that mattered. A
healing cut split his lip, a bruise colored his swollen cheek. Despite or maybe
because of his injuries, he oozed a sexual fierceness. He’d ditched his suit
jacket, showing a bloodstained short-sleeved white undershirt. Black tattoos
covered his muscular forearms.

I pressed a hand to my quivering stomach and held my breath
at the sudden increase of testosterone in the room. Castro’s blue-green irises
swirled, glowing with the force of emotion bouncing back and forth between
uncle and nephew.

“Now’s not a good time,” Micah stated, not appearing to care
he was buck-assed naked.

I gripped the sheet and held it over my breasts, shifting
the fabric so it didn’t rub against my tender nipples. The door slammed shut
behind Castro, the sound making me jump. Damn. I hadn’t seen him move.

Castro’s jaw hardened. At his sides, he clenched his hands
into fists, a move that had muscles rippling up his arms.

When he finally spoke, his voice dripped venom. “They
tortured Derrik, drugged him.” Wisps of smoke curled up from his skin. “They
made him do unspeakable things with their serums and their experiments.”

“Stop,” Micah hissed. He walked to the pile of clothes we’d
ripped off each other and pulled on his jeans with quick, jerky movements.

“Marianna was Derrik’s,” Castro continued. “Richard saw her,
wanted her and did everything in his power to get her—including rewriting her
memories.”

“How is that even possible?” I asked.

Castro shook his head but didn’t look at me. “I don’t know.
Richard did this, and for that he’ll pay.”

The demon walked to Micah and clapped a hand on his
shoulder. From the bed, I could see the tendons on Castro’s hand flexing as he
tightened his grip. “I couldn’t tell you, Micah.”

Heat pricked the back of my eyes and I fought to hold back
the tears caused by the pure, raw sincerity in his voice. I blamed a wicked
case of PMS on my stupid fucking girly emotions.

“I wanted to, so many times,” he continued.

Micah clenched his jaw.

“You need to know, your mother was pregnant with you before
she met Richard. Derrik,” Castro drew in a deep breath, “I’d never felt him
radiate such joy. When Richard took her, Derrik went after Marianna and I never
saw him again. It took me years to discover what had happened, that you
existed, that you’d survived. So I waited and I watched.”

“I’ll deal with Richard,” Micah said.

Castro shook his head. “There were others, Micah.”

Anxiety swept through me and my heartbeat tripled. I whipped
my head back and forth between the men, waiting with bated breath for Micah to
respond. He didn’t disappoint.

Micah’s voice was ice cold and mirrored not just how I felt,
but what I was thinking. “What do you mean, ‘others’?”

“Richard discovered something about our genetic makeup that
makes us compatible to breed with other species. While they held Derrik captive
they made him…sire others before they killed him.”

Some of the notes I’d seen in the folders made more sense. I
flashed back to the pregnant women whose restraints I’d cut, how her belly had
seemed to stretch past what seemed possible.

“Holy fuck.” Micah ran a hand through his hair. “In the
files, they made these notes. It seemed like the breeding was unsuccessful. You’re
saying I’ve got…siblings?”

“Had. They didn’t make it past puberty. They’ve tried over
the years using different demons with various results. Only a handful have
survived, but they aren’t of our line. One of the women you brought in carries
a halfling. I can help her through the delivery—do my best to ensure her babe
survives.”

“The ones that made it, do they work for the agency too?”

Castro nodded. “I keep a close eye on them for any signs
that the demon has fought free of its restrictions, but so far you are the only
one—and I think that’s because Genevieve meddled when she shouldn’t have.”

That succubus bitch—Micah’s aunt—was still on my shit list
no matter if she was now extended family.

Micah walked over and sat on the corner of the bed. I hugged
the sheet to my chest and crawled to him. I pressed against his back and
wrapped my arms around him. I looked at Castro, then glanced at the door,
hoping he’d get the hint and leave before I accidently flashed him.

He didn’t move.

“We’re gonna need a few minutes alone. Can you give us some
time to digest this?”

“Right. I interrupted. Time isn’t an option, though. The
portal you crossed through sped time—which is partially my fault for not
opening it up with more care.”

I’d learned that depending on which demon opened a portal
between our world and one of the ones surrounding hell, time could shift or
become unstable.

“Crap.”

“Julian waits for you.”

A rumbling noise emanated from Micah’s throat.

“Have you heard anything about Roy?” I asked.

“You’ve lost two days top-side. He appears to be mending
nicely—I sent one of my minions to replace a nurse who was attending to him.”

I sucked in a relieved breath.

“They will start weaning him off the medications they used
to induce the coma. Once he awakes, they will know the extent of the damage.”

My nose stung and I cursed Mother Nature. “Thank you.”

“Eli?” Micah asked.

“Healing. He’ll need a day or two to recover, but he did
remarkably well. The Fenrir are stronger than most weres and Eli is something
special. Marcus has indicated that Eli is an alpha. Your brother won’t be
comfortable in any pack unless he’s at the top, but he won’t be at the top
until he learns how to control the beast. The Argent Clan can help him if he’s
interested.” Castro glanced around the room and half of his mouth quirked up
when he spotted the shreds of my shirt and pants. “Shall I scrounge up some
clothing for you to wear?”

Heat rushed to my face. “Clothes would be good.”

Castro went for the door, paused. “Micah, you aren’t alone
in this. Whatever you need, I’m here. I’ll take care of your mother, work to
restore her memories. The women you brought will be treated and set up wherever
they wish.”

The second the door closed I slid into Micah’s lap. I
pressed my palms flat against his chest.

“Your uncle is a good man.”

Micah cupped my hip and pulled me closer. “I think he might
be.”

“Are you going to apologize for beating the crap out of him?”

“Fuck no. He shouldn’t have lied to me.”

I drew in a breath that smelled of sex and Micah. I tried
not to think about Julian or that stupid slip of a dress he expected me to
wear. “All of this will be over soon.”

“It will be.”

* * * * *

I sat in front of the dressing mirror in the bedroom I
shared with Micah and stared at my reflection. I didn’t look like myself. Not
at all. One of Castro’s “minions” had transformed me from rough-and-rugged
hunter to…someone elegant and delicate. My up-swept hair had been twisted into
a low bun that looked kind of messy and thrown together, but had in fact taken
almost an hour to perfect. Dark-brown curls spilled down my bared neck.

My make up was dark and smoky, heavy on the charcoal. The
result made my bright-blue eyes stand out even more. Through the reflection,
Micah walked into view and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Our
eyes met, his bright and almost wild, mine vivid and terrified.

I couldn’t do this party thing—not without him.

I turned and ran my gaze over him. He was wearing a pair of
dark-blue jeans and a long-sleeved green Henley that fit his chest, shoulders
and arms in the best way possible. His hair was still wet from his shower and I
longed to run my hands through the strands and mess them up even more.

His jaw tightened yet he remained silent, something he’d
been since we’d left the Vault a few hours ago. Down in the pits of hell, it
was easy to pretend there wasn’t an entire world that pulsed with life and
responsibilities.

I rose, adjusting the silky skirt of the vibrant blue gown
Julian had chosen for me. The neckline plunged low, almost to my belly button,
and revealed the V between my breasts. The back had a similar dip that stopped
at the base of my spine, leaving me more uncovered than covered. One wrong move
and I was sure to bare it all. Maybe that had been my sire’s evil plan all
along.