Vampire in Her Mysts (3 page)

The way he looked at her, Ileana wasn't sure if he would comply with her request or not. Truth be told, she didn't know why she had this insatiable urge to see.

Dark and guarded, his eyes stared down at her. Excitement, disbelief and if she read him right, a hint of regret lurked behind them. After a moment, he took a step back and then two. Ileana kept her gaze fixed on his, trying to read his thoughts. Then his arms lifted, his hands grasping the neckline of his shirt, tugging the fabric over his shoulders. Before removing the top from his head, he turned, putting his back toward her.

No longer able to keep eye contact, Ileana lowered her gaze to his waist, the first part of flesh he exposed. Her mouth slackened and a thick hum of desire pooled in her belly.

Goddess, he was gorgeous.

Broad, muscled shoulders tapered down to a slender waist. She had caught a glimpse of tight, dark nipples and his defined abs before he discarded his shirt. In fact, everywhere she looked, beautifully inked flesh concealed the chiseled muscle beneath it. Every inch of his abdomen and back appeared sculpted by an artist. And Ileana decided she'd never seen a more stunning piece of art in all her days.

Yuri stood motionless, fidgeting only slightly under her perusal. However, Ileana felt his nervous energy, saw his heavy swallowing. Although she tried, she could not deny the strong attraction pulling her to him, the almost uncontrollable need to see his markings. His body siren called to her and she obeyed. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she stepped toward him in almost a trance. Until she stood as he had behind her only moments before, her chin barely coming up to his shoulder blades.

Chewing her lower lip between her teeth, Ileana lifted her hand. Reverently, her fingertips touched his shoulder. The muscle beneath her hands jumped. Yuri turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before looking forward once again.

“My father gave me that one,” he said, his voice cool and icy. “It declared me a full-fledged adult male of my horde.”

Ileana licked her lips, her hand moving lower to the horned demon on his rib cage. “Given to me after my first battle,” he said without looking. “The horns represent the two men I killed that day.”

“And this one?” she asked, her hand palming the intricate woven symbol that took up most of his back from ribs to waist.

Yuri cleared his throat. “That is the emblem of the
medji
. It was bestowed upon me after I was taken from my home to train with the seers.”

“Your family did not try and stop them from taking you?” she heard herself ask before she could stop it.

He shook his head. “It was considered an honor for them to have a
medji
born son. I became a token, a trophy in their case to flaunt like some medal they'd won.”

Ileana's heart tightened at his words. Both of them were scarred, physically and emotionally from their way of life, their families.

Dangerous.

By the Goddess, what she was doing was dangerous. She shouldn't be listening to his stories, shouldn't be touching his skin. But she couldn't stop. Slowly, her fingers followed every delicious curve, dip and hollow of his shoulders and back, then down his arms and back up, listening to the story that accompanied each tattoo.

Then she took the backs of his palms in hers, examining them. The hands she'd felt upon her skin looked as elegant and strong as she imagined. Her fingers threaded through his briefly before fluttering back up. When she grasped his wrist and turned his forearm to view the tattoos on the other side of his arm, her heart froze.

“What is it?”

Although she couldn't hear anything over the hammering of her pulse in her ears, she must have gasped aloud.

“Nothing,” she breathed, dropping his arm and stepping back. “It's nothing.”

“Ileana, are you all right?”

Yuri had turned to face her. She shook her head, unprepared for what she just saw and doing a damn fine job of showing it.

He moved to follow her but then stopped. One eyebrow lifted quizzically. As if solving the puzzle, he lifted one arm and then the other, looking down at his forearms before looking back at her with narrowed eyes. “You know these marks,” he stated more than asked.

“No, I…” she said, shaking her head, knowing full well the implications if she did.

It didn't work. “You're lying.” His eyes glowed red. Fangs dropped over his lips. Ileana held her breath as his handsome face contorted into what she imagined was the last thing his enemies saw before he took their life.

And then he charged her.

 

Yuri took the female to the ground, tossing her onto her back with enough force to take the air out of her lungs, but not enough to harm her. Ignoring her gasping breaths, Yuri pinned her arms over her head, pushing them into the grass. He covered her body with his, stifling a groan as his hard frame molded against her soft curves.

Using his body weight to keep her down, he captured her hands and pinned them above her head. Disbelief, adrenaline and the lingering pulse of arousal flowed through him with such force he couldn't think, until the truth of what almost happened crashed over him anew.

“You weren't coming on to me. You were trying to kill me!”

She wriggled beneath him enticingly, her pelvis pushing up against him in a way that made his balls throb. But he was too furious to care. “Who sent you? Who are you?” He had questions screaming through his mind and the little vixen wasn't coughing up any answers. Although his brain couldn't piece together the puzzle of her yet, no nun from the
Samostan
would recognize his
vanator
tattoos.

Ileana squirmed again and Yuri's grip on her wrist slipped. Compensating for the move, he clutched her armbands. Tugging the fabric to her wrists, Yuri thought to use them as an impromptu binding. Thinking he could at least keep her immobile until he could decide what to do with her.

“No,” Ileana shrieked, redoubling her efforts to get free. Yuri pressed more of his body weight atop her, scanning her body, her face for the source of her alarm. Then his gaze settled on the pale flesh of the forearms he'd just uncovered.

His heart stopped, and then withered in his chest. The air sucked out of his deflated lungs. She glanced from him to her upraised arms and quit fighting.

“You're…”

“A
vanator
,” she finished for him.

Yuri paced around the clearing, twirling the short hairs of his goatee in one hand, cupping his elbow with the other. “So, you're one of the hunters my brother sent to kill me?”

Ileana pinched her lips together and looked away. Even tied to a tree she looked regal and beautiful. Her damned enticing curves that accursed robe hugged were displayed perfectly. Yuri turned from the sight of her, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I bet you're not really a
Kalu
at all, are you,” he stated more than asked. “You lied so I would trust you, and then what? You were going to take me to him alive, or kill me and throw my head to the dogs?”

Again she offered no answer.

Fatum's veil!
Her calm and stoic defiance infuriated him. He spun back around. “I hope you know the penalty for placing false markings on your body.”

“It's not like that,” she said between clenched teeth.

“Then what
is
it like, Ileana.”

She whipped her head to face him. Long wisps of raven hair cascaded over her shoulder and concealed breast, the ends nearly coiled in her lap. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why? Isn't it your real name?”

“Of course it's my name,” she bit back. “I never offered that information, you stole it. But no one calls me by my given name. Not anymore.”

Although her words pricked a nerve of intrigue in him, he ignored it. “Well, in case you haven't noticed,
Ileana,
you're the one tied up and captured. Not me. I make the rules,” he said, pointing to his chest.

Goddess, he was acting like some primitive ape, beating on his chest to prove his dominance. Yuri ran a hand through his hair and then over his goatee. This woman infuriated him beyond all reason and measure.

Tracking back to her cloak, he started rummaging through her pockets, looking for something, anything that might prove she wasn't a cold-blooded killer. Prove his instincts hadn't been so wrong about her. When that yielded nothing, he tossed the cloak down and sat on a nearby tree stump. Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieved a strand of beef leather he'd put there earlier and snapped off a bite. He wasn't hungry, but he had to
do
something. Inaction wasn't doing his brain any favors.

“Everything I told you before was true.” Her voice cut through the still night, small but strong. “I was a
Kalu
. But I ran away from the
Samostan
when I was twenty. I couldn't abide that place and swore the moment I could, I would leave.”

Yuri flitted his gaze toward her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. When she spoke again, he softened his chewing so he could hear her better.

“I had nothing. No family, nowhere to go. My hate for the world and the clawing need for revenge were the only things keeping me going,” she said, her focus still, her gaze locked on some distant memory. “Becoming a
vanator
was the easy part. I already had more ink than most of the veterans. And I had a lifetime of bloodlust waiting to be sated lurking inside me. However, being able to pay back the man who killed my family has proven nearly impossible.”

Yuri swallowed and stared at her. “What does any of that have to do with accepting a contract out on me?”

She looked at him as if he'd just asked her why the sky was blue. “You are a Feodorovna. You're part of the royal family line.” She paused, her jaw clenching. “You're
his
brother.”

Yuri sat up, taking notice at the mention of Nikolai.

“Disdain me all you want,” she continued. “But your family doesn't do good deeds. They don't save lives. They destroy them,” she spat. “I discovered that about your bloodline at a very young age.”

Her words struck Yuri like a barbed hook through his lungs, ripping away his breath in one swift pull. “Goddess,” he said. “Nikolai killed your parents.”

“Yes.”

At her answer, Yuri dropped his head in his hands. He didn't need psychic powers to tell him his brother had been responsible for her pain. He read it pouring off her clearly enough.

More blood
. More blood on his family's already stained hands. His trembled with rage. If his twin hadn't been blocking their psychic link, Yuri knew for a fact he could have sent his brother into a coma with the pure force of hatred and anger he felt for him now.

However, hatred and anger never helped anyone. Yuri ran his fingers through his hair and glanced back at the lovely, strong and passionate young woman across from him. She proved as much. Look what hate and revenge did to her life. The seed his brother had planted inside her grew into evil, twisting vines, coiling around her spirit and threatening her very soul. The realization saddened him. To think of what this beautiful creature could have been if someone had shown her love, kindness, forgiveness.

Yuri sucked in a breath and knew in that moment what he had to do. Undoing the past was impossible. But perhaps her future was not lost.

“Ileana, I am so sorry for your pain, your suffering. If I could but undo it, I would.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don't understand. He is your family, your brother.”

Yuri nodded. “My twin to be exact. Yet we could not be more different. As youths, he would kill a bird and I would try and bring it back to life. He would set a trap and I would make sure I was the first to walk through it so his machinations would not harm anyone else. I came to the
Mysts
to try and foil his latest plot. But this time he was one step ahead of me. I not only failed in my task,” he said, his voice cracking. “He sent the
vanators
after me. They nearly succeeded in wiping me out. Would have, had it not been for you healing me.”

She blinked up at him, her big eyes so wary and unsure. Yuri could almost hear the surprise in them. And why wouldn't she be shocked by his admission? Here she had thought killing him would hurt Nikolai. When, in fact, his brother was the one who hired her in the first place.

“I don't know about you, but I used to believe the Goddess had forsaken me. Taken everything from me she could and turned her back on me.” He paused, weighing his words in his mind carefully before speaking. “I would be dead if not for you, Ileana. And Nikolai, his evil, would have won yet again. Perhaps she hasn't given up on either of us just yet.”

 

Ileana's brow tightened. So many questions filled her mind. In his one admission, countless beliefs that comprised the web of her life's ideology and values unraveled. She couldn't think, couldn't grasp it all and connect the dots.

“When word traveled about a contract out on a Feodorovna, I thought my long wait was over. Thought I finally had a chance to avenge my family. I knew nothing about you except for your name. Had no idea Nikolai wanted to see you in your grave, as much as I want to put him in his.”

How could she have been so wrong? How could Yuri not be like his brother? How could a Feodorovna be good? How could
she
be good for that matter?

Yuri glanced down at her, something warm and almost tender in his dark gaze.

Before she could open her mouth to try and explain herself further, a familiar flood of warmth rushed through her veins. It filled her head, sending a wave of sleepiness rippling through her. Ileana tried to blink, tried to hold it back. But the current overtook her. Yuri entered her mind with his ability, and held her captive. Without lifting a finger, he untied her bonds and laid her in the grass.

The strong hold he had on her mind kept her utterly immobile. Yet, unlike last time, she felt no fear, no worry for her own safety. No, this time she could only fixate on the sorrow in his eyes. She felt powerless to do anything to soothe it.

Yuri leaned over her, a slight smile on his lips. Gently, he placed her heavy cloak atop her prone body like a blanket.

“It seems we both have the same goal, my little nun. You wish to kill my brother and so do I. However I cannot endanger your life any further. As a
vanator
, even being seen with me is compromising to you. My family has brought your heart enough pain. I cannot bear to bring you any more. Please go in peace. May the Goddess keep you safe.”

Ileana gasped and jolted upright.

Yuri's words rang crisp and clear in her head. His last sentence replayed over and over in her mind. However, the rest of her memories seemed foggy, as if their entire meeting had been a dream. She touched her neck, the bite mark, flinching at the twinge of pain.

No, not a dream.

Where was he? Blinking, she whirled her head from right to left, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. A faint part of her heart hoped she would see him beside the fire. Nothing, only the smoldering remains of burnt-out ash and wood. Like the faint wisps of smoke curling into the sky, he too had vanished.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Ileana spun. Her blood ran cold at the sight of the
vanator
behind her. Even in the darkness, she recognized him. Seven feet of towering hard muscle, and a face so scarred only one eye opened.

“Misha,” she breathed. Her hand instantly gravitated to her thigh, where she normally stowed her weapon. A low curse passed her lips when she only met bare flesh. Damn
Kalu
robes. They hid nothing and she'd had to go weaponless in order to trick Yuri. Her heart seized at the thought of him. If Misha had found her, then it stood to reason he would find Yuri too….

“Looks like someone decided to go rogue.”

Rogue?
Ileana licked her lips, scanning the ground by her feet and then his for an escape route. “What makes you think I would go…?”

“Don't be coy with us, Ana,” he bit out, stalking closer, almost clumsy in his confidence.

“I'm not—” She paused. “Us?”

A moment later, two more
vanators
emerged from the darkness. Ileana recognized them at once, Misha's little cronies. Goddess, she mentally chided herself. She had not even sensed them. Ileana rose to her feet, backing in the opposite direction. Her feet slipped on the wet mud beneath her bare feet.

“We saw you let him go. Saw him tuck you in for your little siesta and walk away.”

They had been watching?
Ileana took a deep breath. She had to play this cool. “If you saw the target leave, then why aren't you following him?”

Misha offered her a lopsided smile, his eyes undressing her in such a way it made her stomach turn. “Oh, don't worry. Sergei is tailing the mark. The one
you
let walk away without so much as a fight.”

He made no mention of Yuri's
medji
powers being the reason she hadn't fought back. That meant they didn't know about his powers, and perhaps Yuri would get away after all. Ileana only briefly pondered the fact she cared more about his safety than her own before Misha lunged at her.

Hard and firm, his arms snatched her around the waist. He hauled her back against his front. “You know what letting the target go means to the brethren, don'tcha, Ana?” He snatched one of her armbands, ripping away the fabric, revealing the tattoos hidden beneath. His fingers bit into her flesh as he forced her arm up for inspection.

“These are going to have to get changed.” Rough and clumsy, his hands slid down her arms, before veering toward her breasts and around her waist. “Mmm, but first I think this is going to have to come off,” he said, pulling at the ties at her hip. “This is all going to have to come off.”

Rage exploded inside her at the threat. Ileana kicked back her head, smiling when her skull crunched against his nose. He screamed and loosened his grip. The moment the arms around her fell away, Ileana ran forward. The defensive move gave her only seconds. She'd trained with Misha at the academy and knew he possessed an unnatural tolerance to pain. The blow bruised his pride more than his nose and he would no doubt relish the opportunity to make her pay for it.

Ileana made it three strides when a second
vanator
leapt in front of her, blocking her escape route. He swung his arm in a wide hook jab. Ileana bobbed and weaved, coming up with a hard uppercut to his jaw. Bone hit bone, her knuckles cracking against his skull. Gasping, Ileana again made for the tree line. If she could make it into the brush, she might have a chance to…

Something struck her hard between the shoulder blades. The blow forced the wind from her lungs and knocked her to the ground.

Dazed, Ileana tried to catch her breath. Behind her, the
vanators
whooped and hollered, as if they'd just taken down a trophy animal in a hunt. Propping her hands under her shoulders, she pressed them into the earth and tried to move, to get away.

Rough hands clawed her shoulders, dragging her upright and launching her forward at the same time. Her torso slammed against an unforgiving boulder. Her palms curved around the cold stone before fingers clutched each wrist, pinning them down. Misha's fingers dug into her scalp and tugged back hard. Ileana tried to scream, but he wrenched her neck back at such a harsh angle, it immediately stole her breath.

“Come on, Ana,” he drawled, his free hand palming her naked thigh and squeezing her ass. “If you quit fighting now, I'll make sure you enjoy it at least a little.”

Frantic, Ileana darted her gaze left and right. Her mind raced, searching for a weapon, a way to escape. Her thoughts were so focused on survival, she didn't register the men flying off her until she toppled to the earth.

The hysterical shouts and cries of the men filled her ears. Trembling, Ileana wondered what new devilry the
Mysts
might have conjured for her to face. She pivoted on her hip to look toward the clearing.

“Yuri?”

His back was to her. Fists clenched tight at his sides. His broad shoulders shielded her from the sight of Misha, who lay on the ground, rubbing his obviously sore jaw.