Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) (17 page)

Baine slowly turned back. “I must consider what I’m prepared to reveal.”

“Thank you.” Nefri dipped her head in respect. “We would appreciate any information you can share.”

“Ever the diplomat, eh, beautiful Nefri?” Baine drawled.

Nefri shot a chiding glance toward the vampire still scowling at her side. “It’s necessary when surrounded by impetuous males who love to flex their muscles.”

Baine sent a mocking glance toward Santiago, at the same time waving a slender hand toward the double doors on the opposite side of the throne. With a faint squeak one door swung slowly inward, as if it hadn’t been opened in centuries.

“The hallway leads to a private suite,” Baine told her. “We will speak again when I’ve made my decision.”

“Of course.”

Grabbing her companion by the arm, she led him toward the door before he could demand the dragon tell them what he knew.

There was nothing they could say or do to force Baine to speak. Not even the Hope Diamond could sway him.

For now they would have to wait until he decided they were worthy of his secrets.

And pray that it didn’t take until the next millennium.

Santiago allowed Nefri to lead him down the long, shadowed hallway. Not that he was happy about it.

A dragon. A freaking dragon.

Like it wasn’t bad enough to be chasing a mysterious spirit and his crazy-ass sire who could infect humans. Now he was trapped in the lair of a dragon.

“You have a habit of collecting dangerous friends,
cara,
” he growled, his wary gaze trying to focus on the paneled walls that seemed to waver in and out of focus. As if they were walking through the strange corridors between dimensions.

Nefri had the nerve to send him a puzzled frown. “Dangerous?”

He snorted. “Dragons, Oracles . . .”

“Baine is hardly a friend,” she interrupted him.

“And the Oracles?”

She grimaced. “I’m nothing more than a lowly servant for the Commission.”

This proud, beautiful woman a servant?

Yeah, and stars were mere specks in the sky.

Santiago lifted a hand to brush his fingers down the cool silk of her hair. “You may have been forced to do things against your will,
querida,
but you have never been a servant. Not to anyone.”

“A fine distinction,” she murmured, although there was a hint of appreciation in the dark, velvet eyes as she halted at a door that abruptly appeared from the shadows. Pausing for a brief second, she reached for the knob and pushed the thick wood door open and stepped over the threshold. Then, with a startled sound, she came to a sudden halt. “Good . . . lord.”

Without thought, Santiago had his sword lifted and was moving past Nefri to confront whatever had caused her astonishment.

What he found was . . . nothing.

At least, nothing beyond a circular room with a domed ceiling that was decorated with paintings of tiny cupids at play. Inlaid with narrow bands of gold, the floor was made of marble that was polished until it glowed beneath a Venetian chandelier.

The walls were the same marble, but veined with a pale green that matched the velvet upholstery on the chaise lounge near a built-in armoire, as well as the comforter on the large, canopy bed set in the center of the room.

A little too pretentious for his taste, but he would have bet his last dollar it was perfectly suited to Nefri.

“What is it?” he rasped, stepping further into the room, his gaze searching for a hidden enemy.

She moved to stand at his side, her expression wary. “This is an exact replica of my private rooms.”

Santiago hissed, his mind instantly consumed with the image of the handsome, lethal predator prowling through Nefri’s most intimate territory. “Baine’s been in your bedroom?”

Her brows lifted at his snarled question, the temperature dropping by several degrees. “That’s your concern? Whether or not Baine’s been in my bedroom?”

He wasn’t stupid. He knew there was something wrong with his logic. But beyond being a warrior or a vampire, he was a man. And men didn’t think clearly when they were obsessed with a particular woman. “Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Santiago, I didn’t entertain a dragon in my bedroom.”

“Then how is this possible?” he demanded, his gaze taking in each detail of the classically graceful room.

Again he was struck by just how suited it was to Nefri’s regal yet understated beauty. It was all too easy to imagine her lying on the bed, her hair spread like a river of ebony across the green velvet cover.

“I don’t know, but it’s uncanny.” Nefri moved to run a hand over a Chinese vase that stood as tall as Santiago.

Compelled by his own need to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, Santiago stepped forward to grasp the wooden post of the bed. He could feel the sanded grains beneath his fingers, just as he could catch the scent of polish.

“Are you sure this sliver of another dimension doesn’t overlap the Veil?”

She shook her head. “No, this is an illusion.”

“A damned real illusion.”

She crossed to pull open the armoire, revealing several long robes that she preferred to wear when she was among her clansmen. “Yes.”

Santiago narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t explain how the dragon knew what your bedroom looked like. Or what you wear when you’re home alone.”

She closed the door of the armoire with a controlled bang, turning to meet his suspicious gaze. “Either he took the image from my thoughts or somehow I’m manipulating the illusion to reflect my preferences.”

“Your preference, but not mine?”

“And your point?”

Point? He didn’t have a point, dammit. “It just seems odd.”

“I’m not going to waste my energy trying to convince you that Baine is not and never has been my lover.” A cold blast of power rattled the silver candelabra. “Quite frankly my past is none of your business.”

A wave of possessive satisfaction flared through him at the fierce sincerity in her sharp reprimand. A satisfaction that was swiftly followed by the knowledge he was behaving like an ass.

Again.

With an effort, he reengaged his brain. “I know that,” he admitted with a grimace.

“Then why are you pouting?”

“Because the thought of any other man touching you makes me want to punch something,” he said. “Really, really hard.”

She blinked at his blunt confession. “That makes no sense.”

He moved with fluid speed to stand directly before her, his hand reaching to cup her cheek. Beneath his fingers her skin was cool, but the feel of the satin smoothness sent licks of flame through his body.

“It’s not supposed to.”

Her gaze lowered to his lengthening fangs. “Santiago.”

He stroked his thumb over her lower lip. “I need a shower.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

He smiled at her stiff tone. She could glare daggers if she wanted, but he could already catch the sweet musk of her arousal.

“You don’t expect me to wash my own back, do you?”

“I’m annoyed with you.”

His thumb tugged at her lower lip, allowing him to view the tips of her fully extended fangs.

The thought of them sinking into his flesh was enough to make him so hard it was painful.
Dios
. He needed to be inside this woman.

Now!

“Can you be annoyed with me in the shower?” he demanded thickly.

She nipped his thumb, her eyes darkening with the same hunger that thundered through him. “You’re impossible.”

“Agreed.” Santiago lowered his head, touching their lips together in the lightest of caresses. “Jasmine silk,” he murmured as he caught her lower lip between his teeth. “It’s no wonder I can’t think straight. You have me completely befuddled.”

“You blame me?” Her lips moved against his as she spoke.

He gently outlined her mouth with his tongue. “I’m not complaining. I like it very, very much.”

“Santiago . . .”

Her hands lifted as if she was going to put a swift end to his seduction and Santiago gave a low groan.
Dios
. He could feel her need. He could feel it tugging at things hidden deep in his soul.

But she was so determined to remain isolated behind her barriers that even accepting his desire became a battle.

Braced for her rejection, he wasn’t prepared when her hands instead slid beneath his sweatshirt to trace over the tense muscles of his chest.

He clenched his jaw in delicious agony. Her touch was little more than a brush of her fingers, but it was enough to send a white-hot jolt of pleasure through his body.

“Nefri,” he whispered, his kiss deepening with blatant greed.

A tiny voice might warn this was a hollow victory, but his body was eager to accept whatever she was willing to offer.

Trust, loyalty.

Genuine emotion?

He had never wanted or needed those things from a lover before. So why now?

Impatiently ripping off his shirt, Santiago wound his fingers through the satin softness of her hair and pressed impatient kisses over her upturned face. He wanted to taste every inch of her slender body. To wrap himself in her jasmine scent until they were both drowning in satisfaction.

“Nefri, I need to have you naked,” he muttered. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

“This is madness,” she muttered as he peeled the sweater over her head and tossed it onto the floor.

He regarded her with a wry smile, his hand cupping her full breasts and his thumb gently teasing a nipple into a tight bud.

No bra. He liked it.

A lot.

“Madness perhaps, but I no longer care,” Santiago muttered as he lowered his head to close his lips around the tip of her nipple.

Nefri made a soft sound of surrender as she dug her nails into his shoulders, her body instinctively arching in silent invitation.

Santiago didn’t hesitate. Tormenting her sensitive flesh with his tongue, he skimmed his hands down the curve of her waist. She tasted of cool power and sweet woman. An intoxicating combination, he decided as he easily dealt with the zip of her jeans and slid them down her hips.

With a last lingering taste of her nipple, he trailed his lips down the curve of her breast. Then, with a fluid grace he lowered himself to his knees, allowing the tips of his fangs to lightly caress the skin over her taut belly. She shivered, her fingers roughly tugging his hair out of its braid as he pulled her jeans downward, surprised to discover the tiny wisp of lacy . . . what were those under-thingies called?

Panties. Yes, his fogged mind acknowledged. That was it.

Panties.

Hmmm. Tasty.

Reaching down he yanked off her shoes so he could get rid of the jeans. Tossing them aside, he paused to simply appreciate her exquisite beauty.

The bit of lace only served to wet his appetite. Like a bow on a much anticipated gift.

And it was a gift.

The most precious gift.

Grasping her hips, he leaned forward to nibble along the edge of the panties. He smiled as she yanked at his hair, her soft groan sweet music to his ears.

“Good lord,” she muttered.

Tilting back his head, he met Nefri’s smoldering black gaze, her features tight with a stark desire.

“I need you,” he husked.

“I . . . yes.”

He swallowed a chuckle at her rare loss for words and instead lowered his head to slice through the tiny string of her panties with a razor-sharp fang. Barely waiting for the bit of lace to hit the floor, he was tugging her legs further apart to nuzzle a path down her inner leg.

Slowly he explored the curve of her knee, the muscle of her calf, and the delicate joint of her ankle. At last reaching the tips of her toes, he moved to reverse the same service up the other leg.

“Santiago, are you deliberately trying to torture me?” she demanded in thick tones.

“I’ve promised myself I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he said, recalling every restless day he’d lain awake, haunted by the memory of this woman.

Unaware of his dark thoughts, Nefri shifted restlessly beneath his lingering touch. “Enough . . . please.”

He smiled as he at last sought out the tender flesh that begged for his touch. “Your wish is my command.”

His tongue parted her, searching for the spot that made her hips jerk forward, and her toes curl.

“Santiago,” she groaned.

He laughed. “More?”

He spread her even further as he teased the tiny nub hidden in the soft folds. Her fingers stroked restlessly through his hair, the scent of jasmine filling his senses.

His erection threatened to self-combust at the drugging scent, but with ruthless determination he concentrated on Nefri’s tiny shivers. He wanted the taste of her orgasm on his tongue.

Only then would he seek his own pleasure.

Sliding his hands upward, he teased at the hardened peaks of her breasts while his tongue began a steady stroke that had her groaning in quickening anticipation.

“Don’t stop . . .” she commanded, her voice unsteady as her head tilted back in mindless need.

Stop?

Hell, a tribe of rabid trolls couldn’t make him stop.

Sensing her muscles clenching in anticipation, he gave her one long, last stroke that sent her screaming over the edge.

Holding her hips in a ruthless grip, he coaxed her to yet another climax before he was rising upward and swiftly carrying her toward the bed.

Tumbling her into the center of the mattress, he followed her downward and positioned himself above her while she was still trembling with her release. Thrusting deep, he claimed her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.

His eyes closed and a moan was wrenched from his throat.

This was sheer paradise.

The slender female body that fit beneath him with absolute perfection. The feel of her slender hands as they swept down his back to grasp his hips. And the potent pulse of her outrageous power.

This was a woman like no other.

Rare.

Exceptional.

And . . . his.

With a slow movement he pulled out to his very tip before thrusting back into her silken body.
Dios,
but he was lost.

Completely and utterly ruined for any other woman.

Burying his face in the curve of her neck, Santiago pistoned his hips over and over, keeping his pace steady as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her nails bit into his skin as she met him thrust for thrust, heightening his pleasure.

The climax was building and he lifted his head to press tiny kisses over her face.

“Nefri, I can’t wait,” he rasped.

“Good,” she muttered, cupping his face in her hands as he plunged within her.

He managed to hold on until he could feel her ripples of satisfaction clenching him, then with a last groan, he lost himself in the fierce orgasm that ripped away all pretense and left him with the unshakable knowledge his life would never be the same.