Night Haven (3 page)

He closed his eyes for a short second, let her wash over him as he kept a keen focus for any sounds of struggle. There were none of course, but still he waited, a part of him hoping he could help.

Her fragrance grew stronger, edgier. As if he conjured her, the bloodwolf burst out of the shadows, made a slow move to plunge her knife into the curved back of the vampire, only to be swatted away as if she were a fly.

Silent, Luke watched her regain her feet, slow, graceful yet sluggish, as if her balance didn’t add up and her body refused to listen. Fluid, she reared up, sent the vamp backwards with a weak snap-kick to his jewels. The knife gleamed in her hand, a short and wicked blade extending from between two of her fingers. It sliced through empty air.

Her hands were clenched, her face a mask of crazed serenity. She would change now, he imagined, turn herself into the wolf that flowed inside her blood. Luke waited for it, tensed for it, knew she would smell him, and he wouldn’t lift a hand against her even if she ripped him up to pieces. He knew it as much as he breathed.

Except she remained standing tall, as if waiting for the vampire to fly at her, tear at her flesh with angry teeth and hands. Luke’s vision was already dark when he smelled blood rising above the blur of senses.

He moved without thinking, felt his muscles sing as he ripped the vampire off her. A short, cracking jerk broke the vamp’s neck and Luke watched it fall onto the hard November dirt. Somewhere, the teen scrambled away, taking his sloppy whimpers with him.

The bloodwolf lay unmoving on the ground, the soft curves of her chest rising and falling with each harsh breath she took. The eyes that locked with his were dark and gold and desperate.

She bled—a nasty rip over her shoulder that tore through fabric and skin.

“Get up.” He kept his tone quiet, afraid to move closer to her, afraid the beast inside him would take over. And yet, somehow, the scent pumping from her—blood, desperation, pain—soothed almost as much as it grated.

“You up for round two?” Tough voice, weary eyes.

Luke didn’t know why he found the combination so alluring. “You’re hurt.”

She touched a fingertip to that soft mouth and wiped at her own blood. He followed her motions with his eyes and wondered how the hunger didn’t shred him.

“Try it.” The words didn’t have much punch as she got up—or rather hauled herself up as if by will alone. She faced him, bleeding, tired, beautiful.

For once, the craving didn’t demand instant satisfaction. He didn’t want her blood. He wanted to devour all of her, her fragrance, her skin, her vulnerable and defiant mouth. “I could’ve tried last night.” A pause. “I didn’t.”

She shook her head at that. Luke wondered if she knew she had a tiny pulse inside the fragile hollow of her neck. He wondered what it’d taste like when he licked it.

“You can’t shift, can you?” He kept his voice quiet, flat. “You walk around bleeding, every vamp in the city will want you.” He sure as hell did.

“Is that a threat?”

“You tell me, bloodwolf.”

Those fascinating gold eyes narrowed. “I’ll handle it.”

“Find one of your kind to take you home.” If only to protect her from him. The usual hunger was nothing compared to this craving to devour her. All of her.

Her chin jerked up. “I got this to protect me.” She lifted her fist, the knife gleaming like a flipped-up middle finger. His body hardened more as Luke barked out a laugh.

“You think I can’t take you?” She crouched now, the blade a bright point in the shadows. Her scent changed, mixed with the copper shade of desperation.

Luke moved seconds before she lunged, leaned away from the knife that missed his face by inches. Her hand was still extended when he grabbed her, pulled her against him, holding her fist and the blade in front of her. Her breaths were quick jerks of her chest, her fragrance deeper now, darker.

“You’re too slow, bloodwolf.”

Her body trembled, her buttocks firm and tight against his cock. Luke let her wrench away before he let himself kiss the smooth shine of her hair.

The sharp wind caressed the dying trees as she came at him once again, a snarl on her face, her blade bright and gleaming. Luke moved, let her own momentum push her to the ground. And either he was crazy, or that short second while she stayed still, he got the sense she wanted him to cover her.

“I won’t fight you.”

“Yeah, right.” She didn’t lunge at him when she got up. Small semblance of progress.

Hunger forgotten, his body throbbed for her. That’s when he heard a rustling of footsteps—a vampire, maybe two, smelling wolf blood and wanting their piece of the action.

The way she swept her gaze around her, Luke figured that she heard them as well. With a swift movement he stripped off his jacket, held it out to her while she lifted her eyebrows.

“So I can smell like you?” Her stance was light, her face determined.

“Better than smelling like a wounded bloodwolf.”

It was a short relief when she finally snatched the leather from his fingers and threw it around her shoulders, dimming her scent. Since her blade was already pointed at him, he took the opportunity to split his palm, using his blood to dull the smell of hers.

That carnal mouth trembled open in the dark. “Why—” She paused a moment, tried again. “What the hell are you doing?”

His hunger numbed for now, as did the insane need to touch her. Those gold eyes still held his. “Damned if I know,” he told her quietly, and it was absolutely true. “I got a place a couple of blocks away. You can clean up, cover your scent.” He figured she would laugh as soon as he stopped speaking. Instead she looked around, not trusting him, not seeing a viable alternative.

Her eyes were direct and solemn when they met his once more. “You touch me, you’re dead.”

Relief was laced with something deeper. “I’m already dead.”

She must have lost her mind along with all her other senses.

The leather of his jacket touched her skin, a subtle caress that promised more if only Dina would allow her mind to go there. Even if she didn’t stink like blood, ripping it off her shoulders would show how much his scent affected her. And frankly, she would rather die.

This whole damned thing spiraled beyond stupidity. Stupid of her trying to rescue that damned kid knowing full well she didn’t have the strength to fight a vampire. Apparently, fear and adrenaline weren’t enough to unite the mind and body. Dina still couldn’t feel the magic in her blood.

Maybe she couldn’t shift—but she could feel the mixed traces of male and leather wrapped around her. It teased her skin as she walked with a vampire out of the park.

He hadn’t touched her—not that night, not now, though clearly he knew she didn’t have the strength to fight him. He hadn’t touched her, and those times when she pushed herself into him, his hands were hot but they weren’t bruising. She still had enough instinct left to know he wouldn’t hurt her.

And when she caught his gaze, hungry and hot, the shivers in her belly had everything to do with nerves and nothing to do with fear.

“What’s your name, vampire?”

“Luke.” Low raspy tone, as if he felt the heat pulsing inside her.

“I’m Dina.” She didn’t know why she told him her name. Too late to take it back now.

“Dina.” He said it slowly, as if seeing how her name would taste on his tongue. “Not a common angel name.”

“Too many Gabbys in the family.”

He chuckled, soft and sexy. She really didn’t like the way the sound shivered on her skin.

“You seem to know a lot about my kind.”

He shrugged, a move that somehow reminded her of Manakell. “I had plenty of time to ask questions.”

Dina let the pause stretch as they walked side by side in companionable silence. His scent still hugged her. The park was now replaced by tidy fences and mowed lawns. Humans living in those neat curtained houses had no idea who went bump in their nights.

“When were you turned?” She didn’t like how her voice turned tentative.

“Turned. Right.” The short laugh didn’t have a trace of humor. “There’s no turning. The thirst just grows in you. You fight it.” His tone changed slightly, grew more rough. “You fight it until you give up.”

“Did you?” She’d seen him push away a willing female.

“Plenty of necks going around.”

She was surprised to hear disgust in his voice. As if he hated those who freely gave their throats for him to feed on. “Were you waiting for the kid?”

He gave her a swift look, his green eyes shadowed. “I wanted to see if he would struggle.”

She frowned at him. “Why?”

“So I could help him.”

“You sat on your ass watching him being drained.” A hot quick stab of anger. “But if he screamed, you’d help?” Hadn’t she been saying something similar, ever since Darlene was turned into a vamp? Hadn’t she wondered why she bothered saving humans when they did nothing to save themselves?

His voice stayed quiet. “If that kid wanted help I would have given it.”

She only shook her head, hearing her own thoughts thrown back at her. Nothing made sense. Not this, not her own body and its lack of strength and magic. Not this strange and intense need for his touch.

The vampire stopped in front of a sprawling Victorian with peeling paint and wooden shutters. “That’s me.”

Like she was idiot enough to trust him and go up there. And yet the need to touch him, to see if he tasted as good as he smelled, crawled through her veins.

A lone window was lit amidst its dark mates.

“My friend lives in the main house,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “He won’t bother us, unless you’d like to meet him.”

Right. As if she was about to walk into a vampire nest.

His lips curled in a mocking smile. His eyes stayed quiet and intense on hers. “Walter is human.”

“Sure.” She wasn’t going up with him. He was a vampire. And she… At this point, Dina didn’t know if she trusted herself. “Just…forget it.” She started to shrug out of his jacket.

“Keep it.” His eyes nearly burned her. She frowned—maybe now he would show his teeth, make this whole thing easier. She didn’t need to think when she was fighting. She didn’t want to think.

He gripped her arm when Dina took off his jacket.

She bared her teeth at him. “You don’t get—”

“Yeah.” In a blur Luke closed the small space left between them. “I don’t get.” His mouth hovered above hers, sweet, hot and teasing.

She had the chance to kick, to slam her fist into his ribs, to curse him. Instead, she just moved in.

Her pulse roared in her ears. Dina fisted both hands in his hair, feasted on his lips. His arms banded around her, his mouth harsh and brutal, savaging her, soothing the burn while enflaming it. She pushed herself into his chest, felt his heart thunder. His taste exploded on her tongue, his scent driving her wild while his lips moved hot and restless over hers.

She moaned when the rough heat of his fingers pushed under the thin cotton of her shirt and found skin. Slow, torturous, his palms slid over her, caressed her back, his thumbs brushing the undersides of breasts that suddenly felt heavy. His lips trailed pleasure on her neck, licking at the feverish skin, pressing small, burning kisses just below her ear.

Before her chest exploded Dina gulped in a breath of air, then tugged on his neck to bring his mouth onto hers again. In a flash of greed, she bit down on his lower lip, enough for blood, enough to momentarily satisfy the curiosity of what he’d taste like. When she opened her eyes, his gaze burned dark with surprised need.

“Upstairs.” His arms gentled around her. A question, Dina realized. The choice was hers to take.

“Yes.” She couldn’t think beyond the taste of him.

The stairs were a blur, harsh breaths and mindless wrenching kisses. He trapped her at the door, his body hard and burning, passion laced with a hint of greed. Propped by the door, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, fit herself to him, core to core.

Somehow they were inside, rolling like mad on the thin carpet, his weight heavy relief on top of her, mouths mating, impatient hands tearing through fabric, groping to find more skin.

Over the roar in her head Dina pushed him back, straddled his thighs, heard something ripping. His T-shirt became tatters in her hands, his solid chest gleaming, rising with each shuddering breath. With a short growl she bit a flat male nipple, felt a deep jolt of satisfaction at his groan.

His hands moving on her skin, Luke rolled with her, pressed his erection into the apex of her thighs, ground into her with heavy teasing motions. In the dark, Dina saw his fangs before he lowered his lips to her neck, trailed light kisses down to tease the hard peaks of her nipples.

She fought for every breath. She had to have his mouth. She wanted to feel teeth grazing her skin. Shaking, his weight pressing her to the floor, Dina pushed her hand between their bodies and felt him jerk when she slid her palm over his swollen length before fumbling for the zipper.

His hands closed swift and brutal on her wrists.

“Let me.” The words barely had sound.

She barely had the breath to nod.

His gaze locked on hers as his palm spanned her belly, his other hand trapping both her wrists above her head. Dina arched up under the slow caresses of his fingers, a subtle circle around her navel, a dip to touch the skin under her jeans.

She forced the words from dry, parched lips. “Do it.”

“Not yet.”

He watched her as he slowly drew down her zipper and pushed his palm lower over her pelvic bone. Not nearly close enough to where she burned.

Her thighs clenched hard around his hand when he brushed at her center. She was trapped in that green unflinching gaze, frightened, aroused, helpless to do anything but feel.

“Let me,” he said again, and since she couldn’t speak, Dina simply nodded.

Slow when she wanted quick and brutal. Tender when she craved speed. Light and erotic and impossible when she wanted to crest the wave and ride it out till the onslaught on her senses ended. Luke stroked her with clever fingers, soft tiny shocks of pleasure, just enough to keep her quivering on the edge.