Deadly Is the Kiss (21 page)

“What happened?” Gideon demanded.

Pressing her free hand to Ashe’s feverish brow, she said, “You were right. We were attacked again. Two Royal Guards this time. I don’t know if they were working for the Assassin’s League or for the Delacourts, but they were definitely trying to kill me.”

Gideon said something loud and rough and foul, and she could hear people murmuring in the background, telling him he had to turn off his phone.

Knowing they were short on time, Juliana spoke quickly. “They’re both dead, but I think one of the guards had dipped his talons in some kind of poison and Ashe has been infected. It’s similar to something I saw in the Wasteland, and I have an idea of how to treat him. But he’s probably going to be down for a few days.”

“Okay, listen. You need to go to Essie’s.” He quickly rattled off an address in Nice, saying, “She’s an old friend of my mother’s. Essie’s part witch and a healer, so she’ll be able to get you anything you need.”

“Do you trust her?”

“Essie loves Ashe like a son. I’m sure the only reason he didn’t take you to meet her was because he didn’t want to put her in danger.”

And now it was going to happen, anyway, because she’d dragged Ashe into this. Regret coiled itself into a tight knot in her belly, but she forced it out of her mind, Ashe’s safety the thing she needed to focus on now. “How long do you think it will take us to get there?”

“If you’re walking, probably an hour.” He exhaled a rough breath. “Damn it, I wish I could be there, but we’re seconds from takeoff.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll get him there, I promise. Just make sure they have fresh blood donors waiting. Women, men, it doesn’t matter. He’s going to need at least ten feedings.”

“No!” Ashe groaned, suddenly snatching her wrist. His lashes fluttered, but he managed to open them enough to lock his dark gaze with hers. “No women,” he rasped, his expression adamant. “Won’t…drink them.”

“Fine,” she said thickly, taking Ashe’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Make sure they’re males. The stronger, the better.”

“I’m on it.”

“And Gideon.”

“Yeah?”

Knowing they had to get moving, she looped Ashe’s heavy arm around her shoulders, and said, “Tell them to hurry.”

* * *

I
T
TOOK
NEARLY
AN
HOUR
,
just as Gideon had predicted, for them to make it on foot to the address he’d given her, and it was the longest hour of Juliana’s life. By the time they found the street the witch lived on, she and Ashe were both soaked in sweat and blood, their limbs trembling with exhaustion: his from the effects of the venom that had been introduced to his system, and hers from the strain of carrying their bags while supporting most of his weight as she’d all but dragged him down the dark, moonlit streets.

She hadn’t been able to risk hailing a taxi. Not with all the blood soaking Ashe’s clothing. She’d managed to get him dressed in a clean sweater and his jacket, but both were already drenched in fresh blood, as well as his jeans. Any taxi driver would undoubtedly report them to the police, and that was a complication they didn’t need. More than once, Juliana wondered if she should have told Gideon to send a car, but was worried about getting into a vehicle with someone she didn’t know. Her trust factor at the moment was down to zero, her paranoia rising. If it weren’t imperative that Ashe have a place to recuperate, she wouldn’t even be bringing him to this Essie person.

She’d hated leaving Josh like that back at the nightclub, unconscious and bleeding in their room, but knew he would heal in a few hours from the bullet wound that bastard had put in his head. On their way out, she’d told one of the staff that two assassins were dead and an innocent bystander had been injured in their room, so at least Josh wouldn’t be left lying on the floor while he healed. Ashe, however, needed immediate attention, and she hoped that the woman Gideon was sending them to would be able to help.

When Juliana finally found the right house, Ashe barely managed to shuffle his feet along the walkway to the quaint two-story. They hadn’t taken more than a few steps up the narrow walkway when the door burst open and a petite elderly woman came scurrying down the path in a pair of pink slippers, her gray hair pulled back in a heavy bun on the back of her head. She was wearing a pair of purple overalls on top of a tiger-printed shirt, the strange ensemble, combined with the hot pink slippers, looking somehow completely normal on her.

“My poor Ashe!” the woman cried, her scent a kind of soothing blend somewhere between witch and warm sugar cookies as she put her arm around his other side, helping Juliana support his weight. “Let me help you, honey.”

“I’m Juliana,” she said, her words tumbling over themselves as she tried to get them said. “He’s lost a lot of blood and the poison is already spreading. He’s getting weaker, and hasn’t spoken for the last half hour.”

“It’s okay,” Essie soothed, her tone soft but confident as they entered the cozy house. “Gideon said he was going to need blood. There are several vampires and shifters who I trust implicitly waiting upstairs to help.”

“Thank God.” Juliana would have gone ahead and given him her own vein, but knew from the research she’d done while in the Wasteland that too little blood could make the effects of the poison worse. In order for him to survive the first wave, Ashe needed to consume a massive quantity of blood, until the poison in his veins was diluted. Then, once that was done, it would simply be a matter of waiting out the second wave…and praying that he lived through it.

As they started toward the stairs, the witch’s dark green gaze moved from Ashe’s pale face, to Juliana’s, and she smiled. “Strong ties bind the two of you together,” she murmured, her tone warm with approval.

Juliana felt her eyes go wide, and rushed to correct her. “Oh, no. We’re just…friends. We’re not a, um…couple.”

Essie’s gaze seemed to glow with an eerie inner light. “Hmm. Maybe you are, child, but you just don’t know it yet.”

Before Juliana could launch another denial, Essie called out from the bottom of the stairs for someone named Jimmy. A moment later, a hulking brute of a shifter with a kind face made his way down the stairs. He took Ashe from them, handling his weight with ease as he carried him to the second floor, Essie and Juliana following behind. It took them only moments to get Ashe settled in one of Essie’s guest rooms, while Jimmy hovered near the door, ready to be of service if they needed him. Stripping Ashe of his blood-soaked clothes, they cleaned and bound the wound in his side, as well as the infected one on his shoulder, using supplies from the first-aid kit Essie had laid out on one of the bedside tables. With that done, they quickly draped him in a sheet, and brought in the first male.

From the moment Jimmy had carried him up the stairs, Ashe seemed to have lost consciousness. It was as if he’d held on until the last possible second, knowing Juliana needed his help to get them to safety, but once there, he could do no more. He hadn’t opened his eyes while she and Essie had worked on his wounds. Hadn’t spoken a single word, his shallow breaths rattling in his lungs, while his color steadily faded until he was nearly as pale as the sheets, despite his raging fever. Juliana was terrified he wouldn’t be able to feed, that they’d have to find some way to force the blood into his system, but as soon as the first vampire pressed his wrist to Ashe’s mouth, he reacted with ravenous hunger, his fangs shooting out and piercing the male’s flesh. He drank deeply, his hands holding the vampire’s arm to his mouth, until Essie told him to stop, and then the next male came in. The process continued to repeat itself until Ashe’s coloring slowly returned to normal, the wounds no longer bleeding as heavily as they had been, his body able to begin its healing process.

When he’d taken as much blood as the last male could offer, Essie said she’d give the two of them some time alone, and shooed everyone out of the room, closing the door behind her. Pulling up her sleeve, Juliana pressed her wrist against Ashe’s bloodstained lips. “Now mine,” she whispered, rubbing her skin against his lips, coaxing him to feed once more.

He pulled in a ragged breath, his eyes shooting open, the silver so bright it looked like liquid mercury shimmering around a single point of black. “Can’t,” he groaned, something like terror filling his breathtaking gaze as he stared up at her, his hands fisting at his sides.

“You have to,” she told him, unable to understand why he refused. “I want you—”

Before she even finished the sentence, he caught her arm in his strong hands and drove his fangs deep into her flesh with a sharp pop. He rolled, almost turning over, her body pulled forward at an awkward angle as he held her wrist beneath his mouth, his fingers biting into her arm, holding her in place.

He drank deeply, making her light-headed, the strong pulls of his mouth and the way he gently worked his fangs in shallow thrusts, stroking in and out of the puncture wounds, reminding her of sex.

His hips rolled, legs shifting, dragging the sheet down his body, and as he turned a little on his side, Juliana could see that he was getting aroused. Her own fangs burst into her mouth, heavy and aching, desperate for the feel of his skin and the taste of his blood. That short drink in the park hadn’t been nearly enough, his flavor so warm and rich she could have easily become addicted.

The moment was incredibly erotic, steeped in breathtaking emotion and need, her pulse rushing thick and fast. But she knew this wasn’t the time or place. Knew his suffering was only beginning. The realization filled her with rage, and Juliana silently cursed the ones responsible for this nightmare.

“Ashe, you have to stop.”

He growled, obviously not liking the idea, but managed to wrench his fangs back, his tongue sliding over her skin to seal the wounds. His breathing was loud in the cool, quiet room as he released his hold on her arm and rolled into a sitting position. He was still a bit pale, but he looked better. She would have smiled, but she knew the worst was yet to come.

“Don’t move,” she told him, taking his hand in hers. “I’ve seen a poison similar to this used in the Wasteland,” she lied. “That was only the first wave. The second is going to be much worse.”

“I feel fine,” he said, his intentions burning in the silver glow of his heavy-lidded eyes as he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, no doubt planning to pick up right where they’d left off, before Josh had knocked on their door. But the instant his feet hit the floor, the second wave slammed through him. His back arched under a powerful spasm that ripped through his body, his heavy frame crashing against the bed, every tendon and long line of sinew standing out in sharp relief beneath the sweat-slick surface of his skin.

And so the nightmare began.

Tears flowed down Juliana’s face in an endless stream as the eviscerating pain tore through him in one tormenting wave after another. He thrashed on the sheets, his body raging with fever, while she and Essie tried to cool him down, stroking his limbs with cloths dipped in a bowl of ice water. Essie even tried dosing him with one of her special spells, but nothing they did seemed to work. Nothing lessened his mindless suffering. And as his raw, agonized shouts echoed throughout the long, harrowing hours of the night, Juliana’s heart shattered into a million fractured pieces.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I
N
THE
EARLY
HOURS
OF
DAWN
,
Ashe finally drifted into a deep sleep. Juliana watched over him for several more hours, worried he might have a relapse. But when he continued to sleep peacefully, she made her way downstairs to grab a quick shower and feed on some of the bagged blood she’d tossed in her bag and brought with them. Since she knew Ashe’s cell phone had a special chip that made it impossible to trace, she placed a quick call to the nightclub, relieved when the woman who answered the phone told her Josh had recovered and gone home with his friends. He’d probably never want to see her again, considering what had happened, but at least he was alive.

After that, she called Gideon to give him an update. Though he’d been on the phone with Essie several times during the night, Juliana felt she should call him, as well. Then she checked to make sure there weren’t any messages from Knox, and headed back upstairs.

She wasn’t gone for more than twenty minutes, and yet, when she returned to the room, she found Ashe swaying on his feet at the side of the bed. He’d managed to get his boxers on, but was trying, unsuccessfully, to pull on a clean pair of jeans he must have taken from his bag.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, hurrying across the room toward him.

He lifted his flushed face and blinked several times, as if trying to bring her into focus. “Coming to find you,” he said, the words a little slurred, as if he’d tied on one too many.

Catching a whiff of his breath, Juliana narrowed her eyes with suspicion. “Are you
drunk?
”

His eyes went wide. “Drunk? Nope,” he said cheerfully, letting her help him back down on the bed. As she pulled off the one leg of his jeans he’d gotten to his knee, he went on. “I’m definitely not drunk, because I haven’t had any beer. Or whiskey. Or scotch. Or rum. Or—”

“Okay, I get it,” she murmured, snuffling a soft laugh under her breath. “You didn’t drink anything.”

“I didn’t?” he asked her, kind of rolling and twisting his way over the bed, before stretching out on his back in the middle of the mattress, his arms flung wide. “That’s weird. I thought I did.”

Staring down at him from the side of the bed, Juliana arched a brow. “Okay, out with it. What did you drink?”

His grin was endearingly crooked as he turned his head toward her, the goofy expression making him look younger. Less strained. He even had a dimple! “Essie brought me something to drink a few minutes ago. Said it would help keep me asleep. But it wasn’t liquor. Tasted foul, and now I’m…” He hiccuped, before saying, “Now I’m flying.”

Juliana didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. “You drank one of Essie’s potions?”

“Uh-huh,” he breathed out, his eyes already drifting closed.

“Poor Ashe,” she murmured, sitting on the edge of the mattress and grabbing his hand. “You’re probably going to have the mother of all hangovers later on. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to take candy from strangers?”

Both eyes popped back open. “It wasn’t candy,” he protested. “And she’s not a stranger. She’s an old family friend!”

She gave a kind of half snort, half laugh. “An old family friend, and a little cherubic-faced pusher.”

He squinted, still trying to focus that hazy gaze. “Are you saying that sweet old lady doped me up?”

“What do you think?” she asked, lifting his hand to her mouth and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

“I think she’s brilliant,” he said in a deep, drowsy rumble, watching her kiss his hand. “She told me she thinks you and I would be good together.”

Lowering his hand to her lap, Juliana gave him a wry smile. “Which shows how little she knows, huh?”

He looked as if he was trying very hard to remember something. “I think she said you were afraid to let yourself feel anything for me.”

“You think? You can’t remember?” she asked, thinking he was absolutely adorable like this, even if the conversation was making her uncomfortable. Damn Essie for her meddling! A sweet little witch she might be, but she needed to learn how to keep her nose out of other people’s business.

Ashe’s dark brows scrunched with confusion. “Trying to remember everything she said, but my head’s all…fuzzy.”

Her voice was dry. “I’ll bet it is.”

Figuring he had only moments before he would be out for the count, she grabbed the sheet from the bottom of the bed, pulling it up to his trim waist, the white bandage on his side a stark reminder of what he’d been through. She asked him to lift his head, and leaned over, arranging the pillows for him. When she told him he could lower his head again, he did, his bright gaze focused on her face as he reached up and touched his fingertips to her cheek. Quietly, he said, “I just want to understand, Jules.”

“Understand what?” she asked, her damp hair falling forward, the dark strands draping over his arm. It was odd, how after everything that they’d done together, the sight of her hair lying against his skin struck her as impossibly intimate.

He swallowed, and in an achingly soft voice, he asked, “Why would it be so bad?”

She knew he was asking about himself. About why she was afraid to start something with him. Something that was about more than sex. But there wasn’t a simple answer. Her reasons were all tangled together, overlapping and bleeding into one another. Fear, regret, guilt. And a strong belief that it was better not to tempt herself with dreams she knew could never come true.

Before she could figure out how to put any of that into a response, his doped-up mind wandered onto a new train of thought. Pushing his hand into her hair, he trailed his fingers through the heavy waves, and said, “Christ. Why do you have to be so bloody beautiful?”

Her lips twitched with a smile. “I think you’re just wearing beer goggles. Or whatever the equivalent would be for what Essie gave you.”

He laughed under his breath, rubbing the ends of her hair between his thumb and finger. “I’ve heard of that. Wish it was true. But thought you were beautiful first time I ever saw you. Before I…” His voice trailed off, and he yawned.

“Before you what?” she pressed, stroking her fingers along the silky stubble darkening his jaw. It made him look dark and dangerous and deadly, which was fitting, since he was all of those things.

“Nothing.” He reached up, grabbing her arms and pulling her down next to him, his body still remarkably strong even when he was flying high as a kite. Rolling onto his side, he nuzzled his face into her hair, his lips touching her ear as he asked, “Do you like how it feels when I’m inside you?”

Juliana hid her face against his throat. “That’s not something we’re going to talk about.”

“We’re not?” he asked, and she could have sworn he was smiling. “You’re always so tough, Jules. I love that about you. ’Course, I love when you need me, too. Can’t get enough of that.”

“You need to sleep, Ashe.”

“Okay,” he said as he sighed, already sounding like he was drifting off, his arms cuddling her close. “But I’m gonna dream again. About getting my mouth on you.”

“You’ve dreamed about that?”

“Mmm. And you’re even better than I imagined. Hotter. Sweeter.”

She wanted to ask him more, but felt guilty. His words were sounding more slurred, Essie’s potion working deeper into his system. He probably wouldn’t even remember a word of this conversation when the effects wore off.

Knowing it was the right thing to do, she tried to convince him to go to sleep again, but he wouldn’t stop talking. “Do you think about me, Jules? I want you to. I want you to think about me…all the time.”

She made a valiant effort to stay silent, but failed. “Do
you
think about
me?
”

He gave a husky laugh. “All the time. Want to make love to you. So bad. It’s all I can think about.”

“You want sex, not love,” she pointed out. “And you’re already having sex with me. Just like you’ve had sex with so many others.”

“But you’re different.” She could feel his frustration as his muscles went hard; could hear it in the grittiness of his voice. “Those other women never meant anything to me. But you…I want you to be
mine
when I’m fucking you. Want it…to be different. I want you to
belong
to me. Want to be able to do anything I want to you.”

“You do a lot as it is,” she said with a smile, his words reaching into her chest and taking hold of her heart.

“Want more, though. Want to own every inch of you.” He paused…his chest lifting with a deep, shuddering breath. And then he said, “I
do
own every inch of you. I just haven’t claimed them yet.”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?” she demanded, trying to draw back so that she could see his face. But he kept her pressed against his chest, one hand buried in the back of her hair, the other on her lower back.

“You’re mine,” he rasped. “By right.”

“No,” she argued, her jaw quivering. “By right, I’ll belong to the man who I make Burn.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head, his deep voice drowsy with satisfaction. “Hmm…and that would be me.”

Ohmygod…this can’t be happening.

Her breath not only caught, it seized in her lungs. “Ashe?”

“Shh. You don’t know, so don’t let me tell you, ’kay?”

She would have laughed at the absurdity of that statement if her heart weren’t trying to pound its way through her chest, her pulse rushing so fast she felt light-headed. “Ashe, what are you saying?”

He exhaled in an audible rush. “Been Burning
for you for months now, Juliana. Even been taking something to make it hurt less—but it isn’t helping. Tried a lot of women, too, but that didn’t help, either. All I could think about was you. Drove me crazy.”

She trembled, unable to believe what he was saying. And yet, she knew it was true. She could
feel it
deep inside, down in her blood and her bones and her soul. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” she breathed out, her voice thick with the desire that was suddenly pouring through her veins. “How…long?”

“Months…and months…and months. And you’re probably gonna be mad if I tell you this other thing, so don’t remember. ’Kay?”

“Tell me what other thing?”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone at your compound.”

Juliana stiffened against him, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Ashe…I saw you.”

“You saw what I
wanted
you to see,” he drawled. “Did a lot of kissing, but that was all. And since female vamps don’t provide as much heat as other species, I had to make you think I was sleeping with a lot of them, since I was running so hot. But the truth is that I couldn’t get hard for another woman when you were so close.” His chest shook with another quiet laugh. “All those women you live with probably think there’s something
really
wrong with me. But since they didn’t know for sure, they didn’t want to admit to anyone else that I hadn’t nailed them. Whole situation would have been funny as hell, if I hadn’t been in so much pain.”