Killer Temptation (27 page)

Kimberly grinned; the smile a reminder of the times she sat with her and dreamed of what a real home was like. Oh, yes, she’d made a terrible mistake. She hoped she wasn’t too late.

Brianna spun around, dashed up the hilltop and passed the moss-covered stone. She turned a corner into the entrance of the cave and ran down the long path, clutching her dress, not to trip over the damn hem.

Kimberly asked if she left something behind. Yes, she had left her heart. Brushing strands of hair back, she raced to the front of the entrance. The doors were closed and two guards stood in front of the thick wood, perplexed to see her panting and anxious.

“
Y a-t-il un problème
?” One of them said.

“
Pouvons-nous vous aider
?” The other added.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand French. Do either of you speak English?”

One guard spared the other a look. “
Anglais? Non English
.”

She puffed out a frustrated breath and pointed to the door. “I must get inside. Please, let me pass.”

Again they stared from one to the other; proof they had no idea what she asked of them. She wouldn’t give up. “My
moitié
. Tristan Delacroix.
Moitié
.”

“
Vous êtes la moitié de Tristan Delacroix?
”

“
Oui, oui
,” she exclaimed, poking at her chest. “I am the
moitié
of Tristan.” Thank goodness, they at last understood her.

“
Très bien, venez par le biais.
”

Still unsure of what they said, she didn’t care because they took hold of the handles and drew back the doors, waving for her to enter.

“Oh, thank you.
Merci, merci!
”

Down the staircase she ran and tried for careful steps, holding her dress. Reaching the bottom, her pace didn’t slow. The slap of her shoes against the cobblestone path echoed in her ears.

She bypassed a small group of children in grey uniforms, a woman holding several shopping bags, and a guard. Some strangers seated at the outdoor restaurant stared as she ran through the town square like a mad woman. Through the arched hallway, she picked up pace; turning left, right, left again, making her way through the familiar maze to his room. She gasped for breath by the time she arrived at his opened door.

“Tristan!” She charged inside. “Tristan?”

Broken furniture and spilled wax displayed the chaos of what had taken place. Where could he be? Crossing the room, she threw open the bathroom door. No, not in there either. Brianna paced. Now what? She couldn’t wait here all day for his return.

A small smile tweaked her lips. She hurried out of the chamber, and sprinted until she found the hallway on the far left. The pathway elevated, but she kept up pace, ignoring the throb in her legs. If memory served her right, an arched doorway—yes, there it was. She headed through and froze at what she saw.

Tristan sat slumped on the floor near the sunlit alcove, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. Crisp air swept the room, swirling a fine layer of dust off the floor and over his polished shoes.

The scene drained every ounce of strength she owned, reminding her of the days she sat alone, and waited for the next family to take her in for a short period.

Here sat a man who was once filled with so much light, but now possessed the very darkness he inhabited. In the open field, the long, green grass sashayed together, sounding like a salt-shaker. Tristan had mentioned how he sometimes visited this secluded place to think. From the indication of his profile, he resembled a man who wanted to escape his thoughts.

Perhaps sensing another presence, his hands lowered and he looked up. Every inch of him stilled as though he were cement. For a long moment he stared, possibly wondering if she were a mirage.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

“I’m not leaving you.” The words emerged with a sure bravado, something she believed she lacked.

“Stop.” He gave a violent shake of his head and turned away. His hand extended, palm facing out. “I want you to leave. Right now, Brianna.”

“Why do you want me to go?”

“Just go, damn you.”

“Why?” she insisted.

“I won’t let you stay because you know I need your blood.”

She scoffed. “That’s not the reason I want to stay.”

He turned to face her, eyes widening.

“I’ll only leave if you’re not in love with me anymore.”

He blinked, but did not respond. His body stilled once again and she wanted to go over and touch him. She waited for an answer.

“So, do you?”

He sighed, placed his palms against the floor, and hauled himself to his feet. “Do I what?” he demanded.

“Do you love me?”

“That’s not a reason to stay. It’s more complicated than that—”

“Do you love me?” she insisted.

He paced to the edge of the alcove, and on instinct she stepped closer, but he didn’t plan on jumping. He placed one hand above his head, over the rough, rocky rim. “Of course I do,” he whispered, “but it means
nothing
. Like I said, it’s complicated. We’re too complicated. This will never work.”

“You sound so sure,” she mocked.

Tristan spun around, charged toward her until they were face to face. “Look at me. Look at this face that will haunt you for the rest of your days.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “I have the face of a killer, and not just any, but the one who murdered your sister.”

Brianna staggered back, hands fisted by her sides. She planted her feet on the ground. No, never again would she cower. She stepped forward, brushed her fingertips over the face he hated. “Two men may wear the same mask, but the difference is shown in their eyes. You are not your twin, you never will be.”

Emerald eyes slitted, mouth a thin line, he snagged her wrist and stalked to the edge of the alcove. “You belong out there. That is your life.” His finger thrust out the opening, toward the green fields with its wild, colourful flowers.

“That didn’t stop you the first time from taking me. Can you even give me one good reason I should leave?”

“You come from that world,” he said, pointing out the alcove again. “Give yourself time to get back out there, and soon you will forget me.”

Her breath quickened and she paused to control the emotional lump clogging her throat. Silence lingered. She had to make herself crystal clear. She’d confused this man time and time again with her feelings. “When you first showed me this room, I told you I wanted to see you miserable, to suffer just as I had. If I could take every word back, I would. You don’t deserve to suffer. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”

She pointed in the same direction he had. “Yes, I come from that world, but that world doesn’t have you,” she said, placing her hand over his chest. The heavy thud of his heart pulsed against her palm. A heart she vowed from this moment on to protect with her life. “I do love you, Tristan Delacroix.”

His brows scrunched to the centre of his forehead, mouth twisted with disgust. Was she too late? Had she lost him forever?

“How can you say that?” He groaned, his voice sounded struggled, and too painful to speak. “My brother killed your sister. What if one day you wake up and decide you can’t stand the sight of me a moment longer?”

She laid her hand against his face, her thumb trailing the line of his scar. The pain in his eyes when he had fought his brother screamed through her. He loved his twin, just as much as he loved his other siblings. They were the same in that way; wanting the best for the ones they loved. “It wasn’t you. Yes, I thought that of you before, but now I know the truth, and when I gaze at you I see my family, my future.”

Trembling hands fell on her shoulders, nudging her back. “Just go before you make this harder for either of us to endure.”

“I can’t!” she grated out. “Don’t push me away, Tristan. I know I deserve this, because I’ve pushed you again and again, and for that, I am sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

His eyes shone with a threat of tears. “I’m not doing this to be cruel. I’m doing this for your own good. You have a chance to be free, a chance to back out of this
moitié
bond. You’re not linked the way I am.”

What did he mean? “I don’t understand.”

“I am doomed because I’ve tasted your blood, recognised your flavour as my mate and from that first moment I’ve needed you to survive.”

“Yes,” she agreed. From this day forth she would feed him. Make sure he remained healthy and whole. “And you’ll drink from me, take nourishment from me.” Warmth filled her, knowing some part of her would be in him and make him live.

He shook his head. “Please listen, Brianna. When I tasted your blood I became bound to you, dependent. But you did not take my blood. You did not taste me…so you are free to walk away from the bond. When two mates drink from each other they are linked forever. One cannot survive without the other.”

“But, I’m not a vampire. I don’t need blood to survive.”

“No, you don’t and you never will because you haven’t had my blood, so you haven’t bound yourself to me. But a life with me means you will need blood to live on. For humans to obtain immortality, it is required. And I can’t ask you to do that, to drink from me. I remember the night of the
moitié
ball when I first told you, you turned green.” He sighed, shoulders sagging in the process. “Go. This is your true chance at freedom. Take it, Brianna.”

Defeat betrayed her throbbing heart. She sucked in a breath, and used the last bit of hope remaining. “Please tell me you still want me.”

Tristan leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of course I want you. I waited my whole life, not knowing whether or not I’d find you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. And I will never regret the time we shared. I’ll cherish you until my last breath.”

Now would be the time to prove she made her choice. “Turn your neck to the side.”

“What?” The slightest bit of hope weaved its way into his tone.

“You heard me. Do it. I want this. I want you, always.”

“I don’t think you realise what you’re saying,” he muttered, yet his head shifted to the side, perhaps unable to help himself. Was he aware of his actions?

She stared at the flexing muscles along the column of his pale neck. When she leaned forward, aiming just beneath his jaw, she stopped and considered biting him lower, perhaps above his collarbone. Having never done this, she didn’t want to hurt him—

“You hesitated. That’s proof you don’t want this.” His irritation displayed in the hostile tone of his voice.

Resting her hands on his biceps, she squeezed. “How do I do this without causing you much pain?”

“Are you serious?” He frowned. “We both know you won’t be able to stand it. Why don’t you save us both from embarrassment and further hurt and walk away now.”

“Answer my question,” she said, ignoring his blabbering.

“It will hurt regardless. In most situations, mated couples drink from each other while making love. Mixing the pain with the pleasure is one way to lessen the blow.”

Oh, well, that made sense. “Tilt your head…please,” she added.

He sighed again, tilted his face to the ceiling and bared his neck. “Just know I’m only doing this to prove a point. So, go on with it, bite me.”

Oh, he did not believe it possible. He expected her to cower, she could tell from the firm set of his jaw. She would do this, not to prove him wrong, but because she wanted to bind them together in every way possible. She wanted this relationship official in the vampire sense and the human sense.

With slow deliberation, she slid her palm down his chest, along his torso and over his pants. Tristan shivered at the slight caress.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding almost outraged.

“What do you think?” It wasn’t hard to miss the sultriness in her voice. “Mixing the pain with the pleasure.” She rubbed him over and over until he hardened, and even then she continued. Along his jaw, she planted small kisses, teasing him with little nips. He moaned at the ceiling, each quick breath he released echoed in her ear.

Her gums ached, her mouth watered, just as they had during their first encounter. With gentle care, she grazed her teeth along the skin of his throat. He groaned again.

Every nerve she owned hummed with a growing energy, a strange experience she never encountered in her existence. She needed to bite him. The last time she craved, the strong emotions hadn’t made sense. Now she understood what this meant. She needed him as much as he hungered for her. And they would continue to yearn for each other for all eternity…to share in blood and body.

With her hands on his shoulders, she urged him down…down until he sank to the floor. Straddling his lap she rocked against him, creating a friction that drove them both insane. She licked along his collarbone one last time, then at last sank her teeth into his neck, biting past skin. The first coppery drops filled her mouth, but she did not freak out as he’d assumed.

The taste of his blood did not frighten her, and she couldn’t fathom if it had to do with the eroticism of rocking against him or the fact the blood she drank ensured everlasting life with the man she loved.

Strong hands travelled up her back, tangled though her hair and held on for dear life. She swallowed more. The taste held a rich flavour like an expensive bottle of claret. Tristan spoke true. Vampires tasted like wine.

She leaned back. His eyes were shut tight, mouth open and trembling. “Your neck,” she said. “It’s healed. Why does this happen?”

“It’s part of our bond,” he confirmed, opening his eyes. “A bite from a
moitié
always heals fast.”

Brianna traced her fingers over the blood-stained neck. She had plenty to learn about the bond they shared.