Illicit Desire: Outlawed Realm, Book 2 (3 page)

Balancing a bag on her hip, Regina unlocked the front door, expecting Nikoli to be bounding down the stairs as he usually did to greet her.

The stairway was empty. She glanced at the antique clock on the wall, noting she was later than usual because of her trip to the supermarket. If anything, that should have brought him down here even faster.

Where is he?

Regina dropped her keys on the cherry-wood table near the foyer’s entrance and glanced down the hall at the dining room, hoping to see Nikoli coming around the corner from the kitchen.

The area was deserted.

A soft breeze wafted in from behind her, brushing against the leaves of her philodendrons. In the dining room, the edges of the lace tablecloth fluttered slightly. Specks of dust danced in the waning light. Beneath thick, patterned rugs, the hardwood floor gleamed.

Nothing was different.

Yet something had changed. Regina could feel it. Nikoli should have been here. Was he in his study, working so hard on his inventions that he’d failed to notice her return?

That wasn’t like him.

A thread of anxiety curled in her belly, turning her skin cold. She gripped the bags harder than she’d intended, causing the paper to crinkle. In the relative quiet, the noise seemed too loud. Although Regina wanted to call out to him, she held back, not knowing why. He’d assured her nothing bad would happen. She’d begun to believe it.

The fetid odor of the vampires had long since faded in her bedroom. She smelled nothing more this evening than the citrusy furniture polish she used, a hint of the bacon she and Nikoli had enjoyed for breakfast, the cinnamon toast they’d made.

She started at a clicking sound. It reminded her of the night the vampires had come here, not in human form but as bats, landing on the roof, their nails clawing at the shingles, their seductive voices coaxing her to let them inside.

Stop it.

The noise continued, becoming louder, telling Regina it was footfalls. Not Nikoli’s. She knew the sounds he made. These were lighter. Belonging to a female? Had one of her patients come here? Had Nikoli let her inside? Why would he?

A flash of blonde caught her attention. Regina stared at the woman who stopped abruptly at the other end of the hall in front of the dining room table. Her face was exquisite, the kind that belonged to a model or film star. Long tresses the color of winter wheat flowed over her narrow shoulders.

She wore a look of anguish, no different from when she’d sought Regina’s services months before, exposing her and Nikoli to the vampires.

Sazaar.

How had she escaped annihilation? Were Andris and the other vampires also here? Oh my God, had they harmed Nikoli?

The bags of groceries fell from Regina’s hands, spilling a box of spaghetti, bananas and the bottle of vodka. Oranges, another of Nikoli’s favorite food, rolled across the floor, bumping against the beige molding like balls on a billiard table.

A cry of agony rose in Regina’s throat, the same as Sazaar’s when she’d begged Andris to love her, giving up her life and Nikoli’s safety to assure it. The vampire hadn’t cared. He’d used her then and was certainly doing the same now. Regina bolted toward Sazaar, wanting to tear her apart…to find Nikoli. How dare she come here and ruin what they had. Why couldn’t they destroy her? Why did she have to keep returning?

Just short of reaching her, Regina heard a flurry of movement from behind, footfalls coming from the living room. An arm snaked around her waist.

“Regina, no,” Nikoli said, pulling her back. “Stop.”

She couldn’t. Adrenaline pumped through her, along with primal fear. Had Sazaar already turned Nikoli? Was he one of them now? Was that why he was dragging her away? Regina writhed in his arms, trying to get free so she could find a way to undo this. To somehow save him.

His grip tightened.

She cried, “How did Sazaar get in here, Nikoli? Did she bite you?” Her hand went to his wrist, the faint scars from the last time Sazaar had attacked. “We can fix it. There has to be a way to—”

“She isn’t Sazaar.” He pressed his cheek to hers and spoke softly. “She’s not a vampire. Her name is Damir.”

What? Who? Regina didn’t understand, nor could she believe what he’d said. “Let go of me.”

“When you calm down.”

That wasn’t going to happen. From Nikoli’s left, Regina caught movement. A man.

Although he was older than Nikoli by decades, they bore an eerie resemblance to each other, their features decidedly masculine, their coloring identical. The same as the scientist Regina had seen when they’d been on E2, hiding from the vampires. What had Nikoli called him? Something beginning with a T, like Timothy or Thomas.

Thomo.

This couldn’t be the same man. His left arm hung limply at his side, no doubt paralyzed. A brutal scar marred the left side of his face and throat. The wounds were an angry red, certainly fresh. How had he gotten them? Why was he here? “Is that Thomo?” she asked.

“No,” Nikoli said. “It’s Meelo.”

Who the hell was he? Regina glanced at Damir, who’d edged down the hall. Given the concern on her lovely face, she was prepared to retreat the same distance.

Although her features and coloring were strikingly similar to Sazaar’s, she was also older. So how had she and Meelo managed to travel from their dimension to this one? Regina grabbed Nikoli’s arm, digging her fingers into him. “How’d they get here and know where to find you? Are E2’s authorities looking for—”

“No,” Nikoli interrupted once more. “No one from E2 will ever look for me. Meelo and Damir travelled through a portal just as I did when I came to destroy the vampires.”

Regina’s belly rolled. She turned, trying to see his face. “Are you saying there are more of those things here? We didn’t get them all?”

“We did. They’ll never return.” He paused to swallow. “Meelo and Damir had travelled to E4 and were supposed to return to E2 but came here instead with my father’s help.”

That made no sense at all. “Your father didn’t want you over here but sent them to join you? Why? To convince you to return?” Was this never going to end? Regina understood his father’s concern, but why couldn’t he respect what Nikoli wanted? That was, if he still wanted it. Oh hell, she wanted to be sick. “You’re not thinking of going back, are you?”

A look of annoyance passed over his face. “How can you even ask?”

She frowned. “Well excuse me for being worried when people from your dimension suddenly show up in our house. If they haven’t come here to take you back—”

“They haven’t,” he said. “They can’t.”

That sounded final. The same as when he’d said no one from E2 would ever coming looking for him. “Why not?”

He brought back his arm but didn’t release Regina. Turning her to face him, he clamped his hands on her shoulders and gave her a hard stare. “In order to explain my absence, my father told the authorities I died fighting the vampires when they tried to cross through the void between the dimensions. He claimed Sazaar also died that day. The rulers gave us a state funeral reserved for heroes.”

Really. Then where was Nikoli’s previous shame for having come over here, abandoning his heritage and people?

“That doesn’t bother you?” Regina asked.

“Not any longer.” His dark brows drew together. “When Meelo needed to escape our rulers, my father told him what I’d done, where I was and that I would help him.”

Regina didn’t like the sound of that. “With what?”

“We need Nikoli to help Lukan,” Meelo said in English, his accent the same as Nikoli’s, foreign, untraceable on this plane.

Nikoli didn’t give Regina a chance to ask who Lukan was. Taking her hand, he led her into their living room.

The last of the sun seeped past the edges of the closed shutters, creating a pool of honey-colored light on the shiny hardwood floor. None of the Tiffany-style lamps was on. In the gloom, she saw a man standing near the marble fireplace. A black hood hung over his forehead. Sunglasses hid his eyes. A bit taller than Nikoli’s six-three, he was dressed in that hoodie, a black T-shirt and jeans of the same color. The clothing draped his perfect build. Broad shoulders. Narrow hips. Long legs.

Animal heat radiated from him, a masculine allure Regina sensed rather than saw. She reached over to switch on the lamps.

Nikoli grabbed her wrist, stopping her. He spoke over his shoulder. “Did you get the candles?”

“I couldn’t find them,” Damir said in English.

Her voice was identical to Sazaar’s, breathy, coaxing.
“Let us in,”
Sazaar had begged when she and the other vampires had arrived here that night. Regina shuddered.

“Everything will be all right,” Nikoli murmured. “Where are our candles?”

“Ah.” Unable to form more words, she gestured with her hand.

“Where, Regina?”

She stared at Lukan, wanting to see more. Somehow compelled to do so. Did he affect all females this way? “In the right cabinet above the sink.”

Damir hurried back to the kitchen.

Behind his dark lenses, Regina sensed Lukan appraising her. Given the set of his mouth, he wasn’t pleased.

His coloring was as rich as Nikoli’s, though more golden than olive. His features weren’t at all similar. He had the classic good looks of a Greek god, the perfect male. Had he come from E2? How was that possible when all the males there looked the same, just as all the females resembled each other?

Wait a sec. Regina recalled Nikoli saying something about E4. According to him, there were five dimensions on earth, all inhabited. Had Lukan’s race evolved on the fourth dimension?

“I have them,” Damir said, hurrying to Nikoli, halting when Regina turned to her.

“We mean you no harm,” the older woman said quickly.

Kindness and sorrow rang in her words, unlike anything Regina had heard when she’d hidden with Nikoli on E2. The conversations she’d overheard there were colorless, lacking warmth or animation.

Regina recognized the worry eating at Damir. Because of Lukan? Was he a relative of hers? How was that possible when he didn’t look like anyone else on E2?

Nikoli placed the candles in their holders on the mantel, lighting all six.

The gentle illumination revealed the shadow of beard on Lukan’s chin, cheeks and upper lip, making him seem exceedingly male. Virile. Dangerous. Behind the shutters, night finally pressed in, the last of the sun’s rays withdrawing.

With the edges of the windows darkened, Lukan pulled back his hood and removed his sunglasses.

Regina stopped herself from gaping. His shoulder-length hair was thick and wavy, a light golden blond, the color warmer than Damir’s and simply beautiful, while his eyes… Because of his sunglasses, Regina had expected them to be filmy with cataracts or damaged in some way.

Not even close. In the candlelight, they were a clear blue-green, reminiscent of the waters off Bermuda and other exotic locales.

Never had Regina seen such an exquisite man. A perfect man. “Who is he?”

Meelo stepped closer. “I created him, along with the others.”

He wasn’t human? He was some kind of android or whatever they called it? Regina stared. His skin seemed so real, surely soft and warm to the touch. His chest rose and fell with his quiet breathing. Could machines do that?

Maybe. Scientifically, Nikoli’s people were far more advanced than anyone was on this side. “Others?”

“Pleasure slaves,” he answered. “Designed and born to service our government’s rulers on E4.”

Shame colored his explanation, surprising from someone raised to show no emotion at all. So many questions swirled through Regina’s mind, she couldn’t decide what to ask first. How could a robot be born? Why would Meelo call machines slaves? Unless they weren’t machines, which led to even more disturbing questions.

Nikoli’s rulers were even more corrupt than the various government officials were on this plane? Those in power over there went beyond extramarital affairs, keeping their people in ignorance and poverty or conducting wholesale genocide? They actually created their victims? They indulged in their basest desires, allowing themselves whatever they wanted while demanding order and obedience from their populace?

No wonder Nikoli wasn’t bothered at his leaders believing he’d died heroically in service to their realm. He hadn’t known about this any more than his father probably had. Regina saw it in the set of his jaw, the disgust on his face.

Although Regina already knew the answer, she asked Meelo, “You’re saying Lukan’s real? That is, human?”

“Of course.” Damir frowned. “What else?”

The woman’s quick defense of him convinced Regina there was an emotional bond, at least from Damir’s end. Despite their discussion about him, Lukan hadn’t commented or shown any emotion. Could be he didn’t understand English. She spoke to Meelo. “You said designed.”

“On E2, I was a genetic engineer, the same as Damir.” He tightened his fingers on his injured arm, the only indication that he was having difficulty controlling his feelings. Unlike Damir, who frowned with her mounting agitation, he spoke with studied composure, no different from the others Regina had seen and heard on E2. “We manipulated the genetic code to produce a variety of specimens different from our people. Individuals with a wide spectrum of hair and eye color, features closer to the many races on this dimension, rather than ours. They grew in artificial wombs.”