Night Thief (4 page)

She would embarrass herself if she answered truthfully. “You have no love for clothing.”

“Humans are the only creatures in this world that seek to cover themselves as if the sight of their true form were something offensive.” His gaze ran over her entire body. The deep timber of his voice teased her heightened senses, and she ached for his attentions. “But I suppose clothing does make one hungry to learn what treasure lies beneath.”

She wet her lips, clutching the riding pants tighter, trying to remind herself she had every reason to believe Kane hid a monster inside him not so different from her master. “I should put these on.”

His heated gaze followed her into the room that housed the saddles. While she pulled her dress over her head, she could hear Kane readying two horses. The cool night air chilled her until her nipples protruded through her thin shift.

Once she laced the front of the breeches, she stared down at her simple, off-white shift and sighed. It was still too long. Lifting the hem, she brought it up to her waist and did her best to knot the fabric around her.

It would have to do. At least she could use her legs now.

She exited the room and Kane straightened. The desire, etched plainly on his face, made her heart flutter, and she savored the way his breath caught at the sight of her.

He leaned against his horse. “Breeches become you.”

Marguerite laughed, shaking her head. “I have never looked less ladylike, Monsieur.”

He sobered. “I hope you will soon call me by name.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, reminding her of the wound hidden beneath her choker. “I am no fool. Danger has many faces.”

A muscle in his cheek jumped. “You are not, and never will be, in danger with me.”

“For my sake, I hope you mean that.”

Chapter Four

Kane kept a tight rein on Kukulkan. “Easy now.”

He soothed the energetic stallion through the rolling hills outside of Paris. This was the area he usually gave his horse free rein to run, to stretch his gait until the wind stung his face.

Kane glanced over his shoulder, smiling as joy radiated from Rita’s features. In the moonlight, astride his mare, Candide, Rita’s golden curls blew behind her. She looked completely free.

He faced forward again, guiding his horse through a patch of trees, and pulled him to a stop at the rise of the hill. Kukulkan threw his head, hooves dancing in place while they waited for Rita. She brought Candide to a stop beside him, calming Kane’s stallion for a moment.

“It is beautiful here.”

He’d never brought another person to the lake. The moon’s reflection sparkled on the surface of the water, and the jaguar inside him paced, aching for freedom. How much longer could he deny the beast?

Kane swung his leg over the back of the saddle and landed beside his horse. He led Kukulkan to a nearby tree, tied him loosely, and withdrew a fresh loaf of bread, cheese, and a bottle of red wine from the saddle-bag. Whether Rita wanted to admit it or not, she needed the nourishment.

When she had dismounted and tied the mare, he took her hand and led her to the water’s edge. “Are you hungry?”

She took the bread from him without answering. He opened the wine, watching her bite into the roll. Rita took the glass and swallowed.

“Will you not eat with me, Monsieur?”

He sighed and sat beside her, staring at the water. “We continue this dance, and you demand honesty, but will you be honest with me in return?”

“I am not the one with a secret.” She sipped the wine.

“Why do you steal?”

Rita turned toward him, and for a moment he believed she would deny her crimes, but again, she surprised him.

Instead of answering, she reached back and removed the choker, exposing a vicious wound in her neck. Angry scabs covered the puncture wounds, and her tender throat was swollen and bruised.

The jaguar roared inside of him. His eyes warmed, and he knew they would glow crimson. Struggling to contain his rage, he turned his attention to the water. “Your master is a vampire.”

“I steal to buy safe passage across the sea.” She fumbled with her necklace again. “As long as he drinks from me, he can find me anywhere or force me to return to him. But even his power cannot reach across the ocean.”

Kane took a slow breath, caging the beast inside him before gazing at her again. He caught her hand, stopping her from replacing her choker, and drawing her attention to him. “You do not need to hide from me.”

He stared at her, memorizing every curve of her face. This woman, a mortal, knew immortals existed. She stared into his eyes, suspecting he wasn’t human.

This moment with her, under the cool glow of the moonlight, was more honest than anything he’d experienced since the night he left his brothers and his world behind.

He hesitated, not willing to break the spell.

While she watched, he brought his hand to his mouth, cutting his index finger on his fang. She flinched, but did not turn away. As his blood beaded at the end of his finger, he reached toward her. “Let me heal you.”

She leaned away from him, shaking her head.

“My blood healed your lip. It will do the same for your throat.”

Her fingers trembled, tracing her bottom lip. He could see the hesitation in her features, but slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Without a word, she tilted her head.

Tenderly, he pressed his finger over the puncture wounds.

“It tingles,” she whispered.

He could hear her heart racing. Knowing she feared him made his gut twist. “I am no vampire, Rita.”

He expected her to be relieved. Instead, she jerked away from him in anger. “Still you lie to me. I know your secret, and yet you continue to treat me like a fool.”

She rolled to her knees, but he caught her wrist before she could get up. “I would never consider you a fool. You trusted me with your truth. Give me the chance to share mine.”

“There is no point.” She sat, crossing her arms. “I will not leave one undead master for another. I would rather die.”

Kane let out an exasperated sigh, disgusted that she believed him to be undead—a vampire. He took her hand and placed it against his bare chest, over the scar. “Tell me what you feel.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Your heart. It beats.”

“Yes. I live each night when the sun dies.” He released her hand, encouraged when she didn’t yank it away. “A vampire’s body leeches off of humanity in order to appear to live.”

“Do you drink blood?”

Kane nodded, shocked that it felt so simple to free such a long-guarded secret. “I am a Night Walker, Rita. We do drink blood to live, but unlike vampires, we have a purpose. I feed on humans who harm others. You can inquire with my staff. None of them have ever been bitten or harmed by me in any way.”

“How can you be certain of a man’s guilt?”

Another question. Perhaps she might believe him. Eventually. “I can hear the thoughts of the mortals around me.”

She tensed, concern lining her face.

Kane shook his head. “I have never intruded into your mind. If I had, I would have known you lived with a vampire and would have handled all of this more…gracefully.”

Her lips twitched, almost smiling.

“Stay with me.”

Kane snapped his jaw shut, stunned to hear the words that had just escaped. Bringing this woman into his world was dangerous, but sending her back to the vampire was inconceivable. He protected mortals. By keeping her under his roof, he would be able to ensure her safety while he hunted her “Master.” He would do the same for any mortal.

Her face drained of color. “I cannot. Antoine would stop at nothing to take me back. He would kill me.”

He took her hand, his fingers lacing together with hers. “He would have to kill me first, and I promise you, that would be impossible.”

…

Marguerite stared into his eyes. Could she really trust this man, this Night Walker? Would she be running from one prison to another?

“If I agreed to stay, would I be free to leave at any time?”

He lifted her hand to kiss the back of her knuckles, his gaze locked on hers. “I would never cage you, Rita.”

She waited for him to break eye contact, or any sign that he lied to her, but nothing betrayed his words. He made her want to believe.

He pulled her closer, and she sank into his arms, her lips meeting his in an urgent kiss. He laid her back on the grass, and she slid her fingers into his hair, moaning as his large hands moved down her body, molding every curve. When he pulled back, she struggled to catch her breath. His arousal was obvious, pressing against her, but he made no move to tear at her clothes.

She looked up into his eyes, enjoying the weight of him settled over her as their bodies pressed together. “Do you hunger for my blood?”

He turned and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Do you want honesty?”

Heat churned in her stomach, coiling lower. “Yes.”

“I yearn to taste you, but not because I thirst.”

“Why then?” Her traitorous body writhed beneath him, aching for his touch.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a sexy, breathtaking smile. “Because drinking from you would bring me closer to you. Even closer than sharing our bodies. Your soul, your spirit…” He ran a cool finger down the length of her throat, making her pulse jump. “They dwell in your blood.” He bent to kiss her lips, whispering against them, “But I will never drink from you unless you wish it.”

“Have you ever been bitten?”

“No.” His tone was gruff, breathless.

She pulled back, her eyes locked on his. “It hurts, Kane. There is no pleasure in it.”

“I am no vampire.” His thumb stroked her temple, brushing her hair back while he propped himself up on his forearms. “I know how to bond us without pain…only pleasure.”

He kissed her again, harder, and she wrestled to keep her mind focused while her body filled with desire. While Kane admitted to drinking blood and avoiding sunlight, nothing about the way he touched her, looked at her, or spoke to her, was reminiscent of her Master. As much as her mind wanted to protect her, her heart refused to recognize the danger.

After all, he could easily kill her…

He slid his hand down the length of her body until he pulled her thigh up alongside him. She could feel him pressing even tighter against her, and rational thought escaped her.

She explored his back, sliding her hands slowly up his spine and into his hair. He kissed his way down her chin and along her throat. Adrenaline shot through her, and her heart pounded. He’d given his word he would not drink from her until she asked.

Her anxiety melted into pleasure as his lips caressed the base of her neck and along her collarbone. His kisses ventured lower, pushing at her blouse. Marguerite rolled on top of him, pleased he didn’t fight her for control.

She sat up, straddling his waist with a brazen smile. He made her feel worthy and sensual, an equal instead of one of the inferior sex. He brought his strong hands to her thighs, sliding them up to her trim waist, along her ribs, until he brushed the underside of her breasts. Desire burned through her. She traced her fingers along his muscular forearms, and covered his hands with her own. Guiding them to her breasts, she closed her eyes, moaning when he teased her nipples through the thin fabric of her shift.

Her hips rubbed against his, and she wished she’d never agreed to riding breeches, cursing the fabric between their bodies. She’d never wanted a man with this much intensity. Drowning in passion, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

“You are so beautiful, Rita.”

She lifted his hand to her lips and whispered, “I am not usually so forward with men. Your touch seduces me.” She wet her lips. “I am not a courtesan, but I am no virgin, either.”

“I have a confession.” He surprised her with a low, throaty chuckle. “I am no virgin, either.”

He sat up and pulled her close, crushing her breasts against his chest. He kissed her as if he starved for the taste of her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

He growled against her lips. “Why did I ever loan you those breeches?”

Marguerite laughed, but her heart ached. Monster or not, she couldn’t bring him into her mess.

“We should get back.”

Kane glanced at the sky and sighed. “You are right. Daylight will be here soon.” He met her eyes again. “I am not ready for this night to end.”

Without warning, he stood, pulling her with him. He carried her to her horse and lifted her into the saddle.

She reached for the reins and a screech echoed through her mind with such intensity, she lost her balance.

I hunger…
Antoine’s mental demand grew in volume and pitch. There was no escape.

Marguerite gasped and slipped from her horse.

Kane caught her. “What is it?”

She opened her mouth, but she couldn’t find words with Antoine’s mental bellowing. Her head throbbed until she thought it might explode. She pressed at her temples and her ears.

Kane held her tight and mounted his horse. He tethered Candide to the back of his saddle and urged Kukulkan into a gallop. Marguerite breathed him in, taking comfort in his scent. Suddenly, there was another voice in her mind. Kane’s voice.

Fight him. Protect your mind. A poem, a song, anything. Just keep repeating it until he can no longer reach you
.

She heard Kane’s voice, but he hadn’t said a word. She tried to push away the pain and the panic, to calm herself, to find something…and then it came to her. Weakly, the Lord’s Prayer whispered through her mind. Each repetition grew stronger, and gradually she noticed the volume of Antoine’s threats weakening.

She gasped. “It’s working.”

Kane pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice a low rumble where she rested against his chest. “Good. You are strong. Keep the vampire out.”

She gathered confidence from his words, repeating the prayer faster and with more force, and finally the pain receded. A flood of relief swamped her. She’d regained the safety of her mind thanks to Kane’s counsel. Her heart welled with gratitude for the man holding her.

But there was no future for these emotions. She would be leaving for the new world soon, but clearly, her heart didn’t care.

“He is gone,” she whispered.

Kane guided the horses through the back gate to his stable. When he looked down at her, she gasped. At the edges of his irises, a deep red ring blazed. He climbed down from his horse, releasing her once her feet found solid ground. Marguerite stumbled, backing away from him.

“My rage is for your ‘Master.’ I mean you no harm.”

He withdrew his handkerchief and dabbed at her nose. When he folded the square, the bright red stain startled her. She reached up to wipe at her nose. Blood smeared across her fingertips.