Death's Lover (18 page)

Rage. The emotion more intense than even the sight of blood, transformed others into their Mr. Hyde personalities. Fangs began ripping through mouths, fur sprouted from knuckles. The room grew heavy with tension, like a rubber band seconds before it snapped.

This couldn’t happen. Somebody had to stop it. She glanced toward the delegates. They each wore calm looks, hands crossed in their laps, and none looked ready, or willing, to break up the angry crowd.

Heart racing, adrenaline surging through her veins, Eve jumped to her feet. “No! You do not understand.” No one stopped talking. “Stop,” she shrieked, “and listen!”

That caught the group’s attention. It was a rippling tide of faces turning to stare at her, an eerie silence filling the hall. Iah frowned. The room grew tense with expectancy. “Enlighten us, then, witch.”

“Indigo killed a human that night.”

“Lying witch. She would never!” Mia screamed, her green eyes narrowing with ire.

Cian stood, standing so close to Eve they shared body heat. She was grateful and her heart gave a tiny flutter in response. He gave her the strength to plow on.

“I arrived at the scene to hear her feed off the dying man.”

Mia’s nostrils flared as her fists clenched by her sides.

It was unnerving to have so many eyes on her, boring holes into her. One wrong move and she’d come under attack by the full weight of all the others within.

“Are you certain this was Indigo?” Iah asked.

“Yes. I saw her with my own eyes. She was high off blood.”

Iah snapped his mouth shut. Eve knew what she’d just done. She’d put the blame square on the vamps. The humans had retaliated, but the fangs had struck first. Very, very bad mojo. The truth was the vamps had broken a sacred pact. The innocent victim suddenly was not so blameless.

“How can we trust your word?” Mia pointed a violet-painted nail at her. “You’re a known normal lover. Michael, was it?”

She sucked in a breath. Fury boiled through her veins. Cian placed his hand on the small of her back, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh.

“Because I was with her that night.” Cian’s voice cracked through the room. Her knees shook; it was a surprise no one noticed them clacking together. She leaned slightly into him.

The voices started back up again. There were cries of shock and confusion, but mostly anger. The ceiling rattled with the high-pitched vibrations of so much noise.

“Enough!” Edlyn made her way to shaky feet. “We shall investigate this matter further. Until then, there is to be no retaliation.”

“NO! You’ll believe a witch’s word over mine?” Mia was shaking, not only from anger but something else, something deeper and more powerful. This wasn’t just anger; it was primal and debilitating pain.

Eve frowned, remembering her own pain when Michael had died.

“I demand justice for her.”

“Sit down, Mia,” Iah snarled and exposed the bright ivory of large fangs.

“Screw you! Screw everyone one of you damn delegates. I won’t take this mortal’s word over what I saw last night. If you won’t give me justice, then I’ll do it myself. Who’s with me?” She turned, holding out an arm. The heavy silver armband she wore and the power radiating from her reminded Eve of the Valkyrie of legend. A maiden warrior of death.

A small band of vamps, weres, and even one witch toward the front of the room jumped to their feet.

“Good.” she smiled.

“Weres, step down,” Lootah growled, gray fur ripping from his forearms and face. “I don’t care what you do, Mia, but my cubs go nowhere.”

Two weres surrounding Mia dropped their heads and began to tremble. A third stood defiant, head held high. Low rumbling vibrations coming from the back of his throat.

“Surely he doesn’t mean to challenge Lootah right now,” Celeste breathed, casting a worried glance to her sisters.

Eve was spellbound. She couldn’t rip her gaze away from the train wreck unraveling before her. The gatherings had always been peaceful, a promise of mending the past and looking toward the future. Everything was falling apart before her eyes.

A sinking feeling of despair filled the pit of her stomach.

The room overflowed with kinetic energy, a whipping, lashing torrent of rising anger. The pink-haired, punked-out were hissed and crouched into a fighting stance, transforming instantly to grizzly. A massive ten-foot bear replaced the man.

Lootah turned fully wolf, jumping onto the table, yellow fangs exposed and dripping saliva, muzzle pulled back, and an angry snarl twisting his face. Lootah should have looked puny compared to the bear, but he was the alpha and the entire room knew it. It was the way he carried himself. Head high, tail sticking straight up like the handle of a pitchfork.

The bear charged, his burly body crashing against the table. The other delegates scattered. Everyone knew better than to interfere in pack business. You didn’t do it. Period.

Lootah, for all his age, was spry and agile, gracefully sailing over the bear’s head and snapping his fanged jaws into the bear’s furry hind leg.

The bear howled, manically swiping his paw through the air and twisting around, but his bulk brought him crashing to the ground. Lootah moved so fast, Eve hadn’t even seen it. One second he was piercing the thick hide of the bear, the next his taloned paw was pressed against the bear’s throat, his muzzle mere inches from a life-sustaining artery.

Lootah transformed his head to a man’s. It was unsettling to see that on the body of the wolf.

“You will listen to me!”

She waited on bated breath. The rise and fall of the bear’s chest and tension still flowing from out his body made her think he might try to attack again, but in the end the bear conceded, shifting to man and turning his head aside. Shamed. Size had been no match for speed. Lootah still had many years left as delegate. And Eve could only hope that whoever challenged him for alpha dominance in the future and won would have as keen a mind as he did.

“He may have authority over the weres, but he does not decide our fate!” A gothed-out vamp—wearing a spiked collar and black face paint—yelled, crowding closer to Mia’s side. Several other vamps, who’d earlier been sitting, now stood and gathered around the lone female figure.

Edlyn held up her hands, and the amethyst amulet hanging around her neck began to glow deepest purple. “Please, brethren, heed Lootah. Do not ride into the night with your fury and hate and sever the weakest ties we have to our human counterparts.”

Vampires and weres both stood. A shuffling mass of bodies coalesced into one tight unit of discontent and angst. Fury was so evident in the faces of some, they began to push and claw at those not of their kind.

Eve’s heart picked up in cadence, pounding like a solid block of stone against her chest, threatening to rip a hole. Cian sidled close. The body heat off her sisters crowded her from behind. Things were getting ugly. And the sad truth was that in some ways she sympathized with the self-disgust of cowing to those inferior to them. Could the normals not see that it was the supers, and not human words of war or death, that kept the so-called thieving murderers in line?

Iah nodded, his obsidian hair swinging behind his back. “The witch is wise. Knowing what we know, we can only pray the death is satisfactory to the normals and that they will not choose to rescind the order of peace. We broke the pact first.” The melodic strains of his Egyptian accent filled the room with a mesmerizing resonance.

“Pathetic!” Mia spat. “Is this what we’ve become? A pack of mindless drones, willing to take handouts from the normals?” Her voice cracked and she took a deep breath. “I won’t. I can’t do it anymore.”

Iah clenched his jaw, pain glittering in the depths of shadow-filled eyes. “If you leave now, you will be dishonored and an outcast. A pariah to the clan. You’ll have no name. Is that what you want?”

Eve wanted to cry. Mia had snarled at her, sure. But the woman was grief stricken. Anyone short of a blind man could see that. What she felt Eve understood keenly. This was the loss of a lover, and her madness would make the decision.

Tears that refused to fall glistened in the vampire’s eyes. “It is.”

With those words bedlam exploded. It was like a dam had broken loose. Monsters who’d bottled up all that hatred toward their lot suddenly had a figure to emulate, model themselves after. Those that had barely toed the lines of polite society before now wanted war. Dominance.

Weres turned on witches. Witches on vamps.

She cursed and gripped her amulet. “C’mon, now! We need to leave.” A jetting stream of ruby light shot from her amulet, encasing all four of them in an iridescent lined shield.

No matter how much she might sympathize and in some ways revile the normals, she was in no mood to be drawn into a battle that was sure to leave her a bruised and bloody mess.

Rumors of another Great War had been around for centuries. Everyone was always gloom and doom when it came to the supernatural state of affairs. And this gave her a sickening feeling of anguish in the pit of her stomach.

Everywhere they looked shuffling, shifting bodies pounded in on them, attempting to draw them in. Hands grabbed for her but bounced back when they touched the shield. Bursts and crackles of searing orange light shot out from Tamryn’s fingers. One shot hit a werepanther square in its nose. It howled and screamed a frightening mix of human and monster that only a panther could make.

She stumbled several times, knocking into Cian’s back. He turned but didn’t stop, and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her along faster and faster. Eve panted. The panic seized up her throat and her ability to breathe correctly. She was sweating; droplets stung her eyes, making her lose her focus and concentration. The shield protecting them from the melee grew thinner and thinner. Soon anyone and everyone could overtake them.

She happened to glance to her left and noticed a bright shock of gleaming red hair. Her eyes widened, remembering the specter of the man standing next to the demon the other night. She stopped, nearly knocking Cian to the ground. Tamryn and Celeste barreled into her from behind with loud muffled oaths. Her heart jerked violently in her chest. Between one blink and the next, he, it—whatever the hell it was—was gone.

Cian bellowed. The part of the shield he’d stood under fractured and a vampire managed to pierce his arms with bramble-thick claws. He slammed his fist into the brunette’s nose. A crimson geyser exploded on impact.

He turned and grabbed Eve’s hand and with his mass created a thin path for them to run through and out of. Cool wind slapped them in the face, bringing instant tears to her eyes. She glanced back for a split second, expecting to see the red devil behind them.

“C’mon, Eve!”

That was all the reminder she needed. Fire scorched her lungs, every muscle in her body bloated with adrenaline as she pumped her legs faster and harder than before.

“Run faster, damn it,” he yelled, practically throwing Tamryn and Celeste ahead of him and bringing up the rear.

She wanted to stop. Scream. But she didn’t. Bloodlust would soon set in with the creatures. There was only one thought hammering away at her skull:
Get to safety, get to safety, get to safety
. It was a running mantra her feet kept rhythm to.

Finally they reached the safety of cabs and humans. Ironic that suddenly she felt safer around the normals than she did with her own kind.

“I gotta stop,” she croaked, halting immediately and bending over, palms flat against her knees, sucking in air like it was mother’s milk.

Cian stopped but didn’t struggle for air at all. That beautiful body of his was in perfect physical shape. Damn him.

He shoved his fingers through his hair and glanced back. “Okay. A taxi, then.”

“Thank the goddess,” Tamryn groaned, holding on to her side and wincing.

Celeste was completely white around the mouth and could only nod her approval.

Cian signaled for a cab, and when one pulled up, everyone clamored in, sitting back with a sigh and a groan.

C
ian paid the fare despite not having any real cash. Lucky for him, no one noticed. He’d pulled an old trick and paid with essence. The money looked real, felt real, but by tomorrow morning would be nothing more than a memory.

Eve kissed her sisters good-bye on the stoop and then turned when they headed inside, rolling her neck from side to side with a tired-hound-dog expression.

They walked in silence. Abandoned streets echoed with the sound of their footsteps. The darkened sky glittered with the light of a trillion white jewels, like a glittering sea of diamonds. The night uncharacteristically fog free.

“Thanks for being there tonight, Cian,” she whispered so low he even had a hard time catching it.

He nodded and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Tonight had been a numbing terror for him. So many bodies. Hands reaching, clamoring, clawing like some apparition of a Hollywood horror. Then there’d been the scent, that unique odor of death, and every nerve in his body had screamed to get her out of there before the stroke of midnight. Gone before Frenzy could reach her.

He closed his eyes, sick at heart. Nightmares of this day would stay with him forever.

“Goddess, I hope the delegates got it under control. Especially Mia. I’ve never seen this happen before.” He opened his eyes as she kicked at a pebble with the toe of her boot. She was distant, faraway, and remembering. “I’m sure everything will be all right by tomorrow,” she murmured more to herself than him.

“You really think so?” he drawled.

She twisted her lips and shrugged. “No. I don’t.” She shook her head and continued to speak without blinking. “It all felt surreal, like I was watching a vision, or a premonition of what’s to come. It scared the crap out of me.”

Finally she blinked—several times—then gave a slight shake and glanced at him as if recalling where she was and with whom. She flashed him a weak smile and took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about something else.”

He nodded, but the thoughts were never far from his heart, not only the violence of tonight, but the very real fact that Eve was in mortal danger. Every time he thought on it, it only made him more angry. Anyone else and he would have thought of a solution by now. A way to keep her safe and with him, but he was beginning to suspect that perhaps death could never find true happiness. Maybe that was the crux of the problem: happily ever after was never supposed to be in the cards for someone like him.

She frowned, eyeing him, somehow aware of his inner turmoil. Not right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to spoil these last moments with her. Not like this. So he plastered on a fake grin and said, “Like what?”

Eve stopped walking and turned toward him with an unspoken question in her eyes. She placed her hand against his chest and smiled, really smiled, one of those smiles that come from deep within, a pureness of soul.

He stepped closer, nearly crowding her. Welcoming flutters of heat wrapped around him, pulling him even closer. How could she do that? This woman, with the power of one glance, could bring him to his knees.

She lifted a dark brow, peering deeply into his eyes. “A strange man visited me in the shop a few days ago.”

He tensed, knowing immediately of whom she spoke.

“He said the weirdest thing.”

His fingers twitched. “What was that?”

“It wasn’t so much what he said, but how he said it.” A noticeable shiver traveled down her spine. Their eyes locked as she wet her lips. “He said that life is not a given and to enjoy it, because it won’t last.”

Dagda had been bold. Eve couldn’t know how close to the truth that statement had been. She looked like a fragile doll with her black hair caught up in a ponytail, small strands curling around her face. Her face was free of makeup and had a scrubbed, pink tint to it. The effect made her look so vulnerable, childlike even.

He couldn’t help himself. He touched the crook of her arm and pulled her slightly closer. Now they were breath on breath, body heat to body heat. The air around them charged with the snapping force of their desire.

“And what do you think about that?” he asked. He knew what he thought about it: Dagda should have stayed away from her. Every second around him only brought her deeper into danger, but as much as he wished he could turn off these feelings and walk away from her, he couldn’t. She was his drug, his addiction, and crazy as it was, he needed to be with her. Because no one ever made him feel the way that she did.

“At first”—she licked her lips—“that he was crazy. But there was power to those words, a conviction that stopped me from dismissing him.”

Eve slid her hand up his arm. His body screamed. His nerves strained from resisting the urge to yank her into his arms and crush her to him.

Though he’d had a taste of her, it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t sure he would ever have enough where she was concerned. He wanted this woman with a ferocity that rivaled the queen’s bloodlust.

“Do you want to come home with me tonight?”

His mind running on feelings and not on thought, he said the only thing he could.

“Yes.”

Cian walked around Eve’s living room. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe something dark and more in keeping with her witchy trait, but the room was primarily shades of white and tan with the greenery of plants adding a splash of color here and there.

She’d excused herself to the bedroom to change; leaving him alone with thoughts that had turned suddenly crippling.

When she was around him, flashing that smile, it was as if all common sense fled. It was so easy to forget that he was something other than death.

That he wasn’t the vampire she thought him to be, a man free to tie his heart to hers and, if it didn’t work out, also leave them able to go their separate ways. No harm, no foul.

Their predicament laid heavy on his mind. And again he came to the only possible conclusion he’d come to the other day while talking to Lise. He knew what she’d said: Don’t do it. Don’t even contemplate it. He couldn’t see how she could deny the idea had merit. Dangerous. Stupid, yes. But it had merit, nonetheless. And with the way time was running out, his options were incredibly limited. What did he have to lose? Nothing. And in return, Eve would have a lifetime to live. That was all he wanted. All he’d ever wanted for her. Happiness.

Eve had given him a gift: the rare peace he’d sought his entire existence. It was his turn to return the favor. Only with Eve had he ever felt a true connection. The fact that he cared whether she was mad, happy, or sad spoke volumes.

Tomorrow all hell would be unleashed. The truth of who he was would have to be revealed. All he wanted to do was forget, have this final night with her. And yet he couldn’t let her find out by accident. As much as the thought galled, he had to be a man and tell her himself.

He rubbed his chest, a bitter taste in his mouth. If he could give her back her old life, her husband—regardless of the numbing pain that thought caused—he would. He’d do it all to see her as happy as he had that very first day.

She walked into the living room wearing a pink tank top, black silk sleeping pants, and a smile. “Sorry I took so long. My sister called. I swear that woman has a sixth sense about me. She knew I had a visitor and wanted to know who, when, and where.” She ticked it off on her fingers.

Goddess, but she took his breath away when she looked at him like that, a sexy beneath-the-lashes glance.

“Aye? And which sister was that?” His voice came out thick and heavy with Irish inflections. It was a sure sign that he was slowly losing his composure.

She bit the side of her lip. “Have I told you how sexy that burr is? I’ve always had a fascination with accents.”

“Did Michael have one?”

He clenched his jaw the second the words left his mouth and the light went out her eyes. There he went again, self-destructing. But it was all he knew. His kind didn’t mingle. They didn’t show emotion and
never
fell in love. There was no room for that; it couldn’t happen. And he was dangerously close—teetering on the edge of the cliff.

Truth was, for another night in her arms he was tempted to forsake his heart and spend an eternity berserk with grief.

“No. He didn’t,” she said and shook her head. Then she turned toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna make me some chamomile tea. I’ve got a baggie of blood in the fridge. Take it if you’re hungry. I’m not squeamish about that stuff.”

He couldn’t help but smile. She’d been prepared. “I’ve fed. Thanks.”

She grinned and set the kettle to boil. “No problem.”

A conflicting miasma of emotions assaulted him. He wanted to both stay and leave at the same time. He was no fool. Tonight was more than games on the beach or holding her while she slept or even having a taste of her passion. There’d been heat in her eyes, the tension between them demanding they make a decision. Eve was making her move, and he was tempted—more than he’d ever imagined being possible. He needed to stay busy and focus on something other than her.

Shadow boxes filled with a sculpted menagerie of mythic creatures lined the walls, from dragons to unicorns, mermaids to centaurs. He picked up a figurine of a mermaid perching on a rock, prisms of light shooting through its amber-colored skin.

He sensed her behind him before she said anything. It was like every nerve in his body was attuned to her, sparking and crackling when she came near him.

“I’m ridiculously addicted to amber.” Her soft voice was a mere whisper.

He heard the ticktock of a clock, the bubbling steam building in the kettle and the inhalations of her breath. He turned, misjudging how close to him she stood, and knocked into her.

She stumbled back a step and his hand shot out, grasping her elbow and keeping her steady. She placed her hand against his chest, her lioness gaze holding his.

“Thanks.”

He nodded and set the figurine down on the television stand, never breaking eye contact.

Her hands slipped up his forearm. Fire raced a path across his flesh at her gentle touch.

“Eve.” Her name came out a throaty whisper, full of longing and desire.

She bunched the fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers and drew up on tiptoe. She brushed her nose against his neck, her breath created a warm, tickling sensation. Hot shivers coursed through his veins, turning his blood to molten lava. He hissed and drew her closer, molding her body to his.

“What is it about you?” she whispered into the hollow of his throat and then nipped him. “One taste just isn’t enough. You’re an addiction, a craving I can’t get out of my system.”

His heart thundered. Rolling vibrations traveled through his veins, making him alive and needy for more. He growled low and traced a path down her spine.

She flicked out her tongue, tasting him with just the tip. “Mmmm.”

His hands shifted to her backside, his burgeoning erection heavy between them.

“Ah. Goddess,” she moaned, her head on his shoulder. “It’s been so long.”

Adrenaline spiked through his brain. Eve was giving voice to everything he felt but couldn’t say. He picked her up; his hands gripped her backside and he reversed positions, pushing her against the wall and pinning her in place, his legs planted shoulder length apart. She was at his mercy.

Eve slanted her lips against his, tasting, touching. Then she bit down. Dull pain bloomed at the contact. A wild heat traveled through his blood, bringing out the monster, the whipping lust.

He tore himself away from her. She opened fog-filled eyes, staring at him in confusion. A rumble tore past his lips as the slithering madness crept in. He hadn’t known a woman in centuries, and the loss of that touch made him feral with need.

He trembled, his breathing haggard. She didn’t know the truth. If they did this now, she’d never forgive him. He fought the wild animal inside but couldn’t pull away. Not just yet.

He dipped his head, tasting her throat.

“Cian.” She massaged his scalp. His body flared to life, the nerve endings sensitive and excited. “I love your hair. I want to roll in it,” she moaned.

He scraped the side of her neck with his fangs and inhaled the sweetness of her flesh, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

She pulled the leather thong from his hair. The heavy strands fell free. She gripped tight and pulled him even closer. Pain flared down his skull at her rough grip, heightening his excitement all the more, to see her need so raw and exposed. His stomach clenched and his muscles quivered. Everything inside him was aware of her, of her scent, her taste, her touch.

Their lips were so close breath passed between them. His lungs filled with her scent of mint. If he were a good man he’d stop this. But he wasn’t a man, and he’d never confessed to being good.

With a growl he covered her mouth with his. He licked and nibbled her lips, coaxing her with his tongue to let him in. She opened a fraction, her hum of approval shooting straight through his chest like an arrow.

The world narrowed down to just them. Nothing existed outside of them. He was aware only of the roar of his blood. The rapid beat of his heart, and her soft purrs of approval.

Her tongue darted into his mouth, dueling with his.

His hands roamed her body. Grabbing her breasts and kneading, rolling the nipples between his fingers until she groaned. The leather of his glove yet again came between the touch of flesh on flesh. Frustrated, he snarled, “Tell me what you want, Eve?”

Her hand snaked a path down his chest, over his stomach, and lower still. She was so close to his engorged cock that he could feel the heat of her hand poised above him. He grabbed her wrist. “What do you want?”

“You. Goddess, I want
you
.” She panted, slamming her mouth down on his again.

He growled with approval, knowing she’d be able to handle the primal and aggressive nature of mating with death. Also knowing she wanted this as fiercely as he did. Grabbing the edge of her shirt, he lifted it up and over her head, throwing it to the ground.

“Take the gloves off,” she whispered against his lips, grinding her hips down harder.