02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn (28 page)

The thrill of the capture.

He exhaled curtly. ‘Leila!’ He lifted his head from the pillow. ‘Don’t you walk away from me!’

After a moment, she retraced her steps enough to be back in his vision. ‘We’ve been here before, haven’t we?’ she remarked with a mocking frown, a defiant glare that he’d come to love about her. ‘I don’t remember your orders working then either.’

Love
about her.

He gritted his teeth as she disappeared from sight again.

He slammed his head back against the pillow and glared up at the ceiling.

She would not corner him like this. She would not force anything out of him. She would not grate on his pride – humiliate him, expose him that way.

But as her footsteps became more distant, his frustration erupted, his panic erupted – the acknowledgement that he would not,
could
not let her walk away no matter what it took.

It could have been just a game – a final attempt at humiliation before she killed him, before she finally exposed herself for exactly what she was.

But he couldn’t be sure enough that she was calling his bluff to risk it.

To risk losing her.

He knew he could have only seconds left to pull it back.

‘I know!’ he finally called out. ‘I know you’re not like them!’ He sighed with impatience at her silence. ‘Leila, get the fuck back up here and stop screwing with my head!’

❄ ❄ ❄

Leila dropped her hand from clutching the handle.

She looked back up the stairs.

He had fallen silent.

He was clearly listening for her as much as she was for him.

The words could have been a lie – anything said to stop him losing his sacrifice. But the sincerity that resounded in them caused her to still, to linger.

It was more logical for her to walk away. To close the door on him. But this had become about more than that.

This had become about more than the vampire and the serryn. This was about
them
. And this moment was about her.

And up there, lying on that bed, was the only way she knew she’d ever find an iota of happiness or fulfilment. If she walked out of there now, she may as well have given herself to the streets of Blackthorn.

But if he felt
anything
anywhere near enough, if she could get him to prove it, it could be the breakthrough she needed, that he needed – that they both needed, to get them
all
out of it intact.

She needed just a few more minutes.

But everything she knew reminded her he was too damaged. He was too far gone. She had fought for his redemption, but she had to accept that some were too far beyond that.

Whatever that serryn had done to him, whatever those since had done to him, whatever he’d seen and experienced and whatever Feinith had inflicted, they had scarred him permanently.

She reached for the handle again, the tears welling up in her eyes.

Her legs felt leaden, an invisible barrier blocking the exit.

He’d
never
care enough.

She reached for the handle and turned it, the door clicking open.

‘Leila!’ Caleb called again, his commanding voice rasping in the silence.

There was a moment’s pause.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he said, impatience lacing his tone. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed! Leila – I can’t lose you!’

Her head snapped back to the stairs. She froze for a moment, something deep inside stirring.

He had fallen silent again.

Her heart pounded, her hand still gripping the handle.

She owed herself this. A few more minutes to hear what he had to say.

She quietly closed the door and took to the stairs. As she reached the top step, his sullen green eyes were already locked on hers.

‘Why not?’ she asked.

He frowned, but he didn’t answer her.

‘Why can’t you lose me?’ she persisted.

He looked away, frustration exuding from his eyes, pride clearly winning.

She took another step towards him. ‘Caleb, you talk to me or I am turning right back around and this time I will not stop.’

His gaze snapped back to hers. ‘You want to talk, you get me out of these restraints.’

‘I’m not stupid, Caleb.’

‘You want to bring this to a head, right? That’s what all this is about. That’s why you didn’t walk away when you could. Why you didn’t kill me when you could. What’s going on in that head of yours, Leila? What do you want from me?’

Despite opening herself up for the potential humiliation, she said it. ‘I want to know how you feel.’

He frowned. But he didn’t laugh. There was no disdain in his eyes at the suggestion. ‘How I feel?’

She nodded, her heart pounding painfully, the blood in her ears echoing in the silence.

He exhaled curtly. ‘What does it matter how I feel? What does it matter how either of us feel?’

‘You wouldn’t have hurt me in that bathroom. That’s the truth. That’s what I believe. That’s what I’ve learned.’

‘Yet you felt the need to tie me down.’

‘Because I needed to show you. Because I needed
you
to believe
me
.’

‘And you showed me. So if your belief is so strong, untie me.’

‘I don’t think you
do
believe me though. Not enough. I believe you don’t
want
to hurt me, but I believe you
need
to. I think you’re beyond redemption, Caleb. And without you telling me how you feel, that’s all I’m left with.’

‘So what do you want? For me to declare undying love? Is that what you’re looking for? And in your eyes, will that make everything okay?’

‘It’ll give me something.’

‘I feel more than I should. Is that what you so
desperately
need to hear?’

She frowned. ‘You’re a cold bastard, Caleb.’ She turned on her heels, fighting back the tears as she took the first two steps back down.

She was insane to go back up there. To let her resolve waver. To convince herself to give him a chance.

‘A cold bastard who feels a
hell
of a lot more than he should,’ he declared. ‘Who, despite what you have done to me here, still cannot see you walk away. Who cannot bear the thought of anyone else laying their hands on you. Who I would kill if they ever hurt you the way I have. I don’t want you to be a serryn, Leila. It’s the last thing I want. And you being the one I need to kill tears me apart more than you’ll ever know.’

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, his eyes glossy, his body taut in aggravation.

‘And I hate myself for letting you get to me,’ he added. ‘But you can’t help who you fall for. And unfortunately for us both, I started to fall for you the minute our eyes met.’ He scowled, his eyes penetrating deep. ‘Is that confession enough?’

He stared back up at the ceiling, heaved a heavy sigh as he flexed his hands in his constraints.

The tense silence consumed her as she remained rooted to the spot, unable to speak.

If he was telling the truth, the words were the most beautiful she’d ever heard, the conviction behind them astounding – even more so because it came from him, direct from his hardened heart.

And if it was a lie, a ploy, they were the cruellest words ever uttered.

He looked back at her, his green eyes calm and resolute, as if some kind of weight had been lifted. ‘So what are you going to do now, fledgling? Untie the monster, or leave him here to suffer?’

If he was the monster she had once believed him to be, what he still self-proclaimed to be, she would be a fool to do anything but the latter.

‘What are you going to do if I do untie you, vampire? Unleash the monster or contain him?’

‘Did you listen to a word I said?’

Every word. She only wished her head could be as readily accepting as her heart. She nodded.

‘You proved something to me tonight. Now let me prove something to you,’ he said. ‘Let’s both experience the edge of our fears.’

She stared deep into his eyes, the ache in her chest intensifying.

‘You know you want to,’ he said with the dark, playful glint she knew only too well.

‘And what’s the edge of my fear, Caleb?’

‘Letting me loose right now, with the way you feel.’ He held his gaze steadily on hers. ‘I understand you, Leila. And you understand me.’

Master manipulator. Master seducer. She stared deep into those green eyes as she wavered. Arousal stirred deep inside, pooling at the pit of her abdomen. Arousal she couldn’t ignore. Arousal that, right then, she didn’t want to ignore.

It was the only way she’d know – the only way she’d know for sure. And if he overstepped the mark, she’d make sure he bit.

She had to. For the sake of her sisters, love him or not.

She would either go to the Brink with him or she would kill him with her last dying drop of human blood if,
if
, her serrynity had already gone.

But she could only hope, with every iota of her being, it wouldn’t come to that.

She reached across to take the handcuffs key from the top of the top of the newel post, stepped up to the bed and placed the knife on the cover.

With only a moment’s more hesitation, she unfastened the cuff around his left hand, her eyes fleetingly meeting his, making her heart and stomach jolt, as she did so.

Grasping the knife again, she backed away, leaving him to uncoil the barbed wire from his other wrist, his ankles.

He moved to the edge of the bed, kept his head lowered for a minute before looking up at her, his eyes dark in the dim light.

Her grip tightened on the knife handle.

‘Is that in case I misbehave?’ he asked.

She squeezed the handle, but said nothing.

As he stood and sauntered towards her, stretching and flexing his arms and back, she curved away from him, to her foolishness more into the room as he subtly blocked her only exit.

Suddenly it didn’t seem such a good idea.

Suddenly the thought crossed her mind that she had made the biggest mistake of her life.

As she assessed that lithe, virile body, she felt a cool perspiration wash over her not only at the reality of the power of the vampire in front of her, but how easily, she had no doubt then, she could succumb to him.

If he overstepped the mark, if he took her there and then in that room, she would have no choice but to keep him feeding. No choice but to feed him her dying blood until they met at the Brink or, if she was right in her feelings, it killed them both.

It was purely down to his self-control. The fate of both of them was down to his self-control – the vampire closing the gap between them with easy, nonchalant steps more predatory than she had ever seen.

‘Don’t let me down,’ she said, wariness not allowing her to break from his penetrating gaze.

‘In terms of what?’ he asked, his smirk telling her he knew exactly what she meant.

She backed up against the wall, still clenching the knife.

He looked down at the blade then back at her as he placed his hand on the wall beside her head. He leaned closer. ‘So what now? Do you want me to tell you I love you? Will that chase those fears away?’ He moved his lips inches from hers. ‘Or do you want me to demonstrate how I really feel?’

‘This is not about sex.’

‘No?’

‘Not like that. You’ll show me by doing anything but.’

He frowned slightly. ‘You want me to refrain?’

She nodded.

‘You think I can do that? The way I’m feeling right now? Only I’ve got a lot bubbling inside me after that little stunt. A lot of darkness needing to escape.’

‘What you decide to do in the next few minutes will tell me everything I need to know.’

He glanced back down at the blade. ‘And are you going to stab me if I step over the line? Like you tried to with the syringe.’ He slid his hand down her forearm, pressing her knife-holding wrist against the wall. ‘You can’t hurt me, Leila. You already proved that. I’ve skirted to the edge with you too many times now and each time you’ve thrived on it. That’s what I understand about you. And you know I see it and you know I won’t hold back from making the most of it, and that only excites you more. Which is why you’re rife with tension right now.’

Unease coiled her chest at the truth spilling from his lips. At his perceptiveness. At his understanding of needs not even she had got her head around. Only that they were incited by him. And only him. ‘Which only makes it harder for you, right?’

He smiled. ‘Most definitely.’

As he pressed his body against her, captured her lips with his, the unexpected intimacy, his gentleness under the circumstances, stunned her. ‘You’re not going to insist on me keeping my hands off you completely, are you?’ he asked, sliding his hand up under her still-damp dress.

She snapped back a breath, her gaze locking with his as his cool fingers found the heat between her legs.

‘Are you going to stab me for this?’ he asked, sliding his middle finger firmly, slowly and enticingly inside her.

Before she had time to answer, he leaned into her neck, gliding his lips up to her ear lobe, drawing it painfully slowly into his mouth.

She shuddered, bit into her bottom lip, her nails digging into her palm.

‘You stepped over the line tonight. You know that, don’t you?’ he said, his lips sliding back to hers, enticing her with their closeness. He slid his finger deeper, making her snap back a breath. ‘And now you want me to refrain from what is so instinctive to me?’

As he slowly slid his finger back out to tease the most sensitive nub of her sex, as he applied perfect and concise pressure, she spoke more breathily than she intended. ‘Your choice,’ she said.

He almost smiled as he slid his lips down her throat, across her collar bone, withdrew his hand as he kissed down her cleavage, dragged the fabric aside to take her breast in his mouth. She closed her eyes, his saliva, as cool as the air encompassing them, not helping her already obvious arousal.

As he slid his lips back up her neck to then find her mouth, she accepted him willingly, the increase in his hunger only exacerbating hers as he eased down onto his knees.