Beyond the Darkness (13 page)

“I’ll decide if or when I return to a pack,” she warned.

Lifting her arm, Salvatore nuzzled the pulse hammering in her inner wrist.

“I could make the decision an easy one if you would let me.”

“Not everyone is ruled by their hormones.”

The golden eyes flashed with heat. “Ah, if only that were true.”

Harley’s lips parted as a blast of lust slammed into her.

It wasn’t the persistent tug that was always present when Salvatore was near. Or the intense hunger that his kisses so easily roused.

This was a jarring, overwhelming need that felt unpleasantly like drowning.

“Giuliani?” she rasped.

“Relax,
cara.
” He gently massaged her hand.

“What is it?”

“The dancers release a pheromone. It helps encourage more participants to ante up for a turn in the pit.”

“Crap.” She shifted on the hard bench, her skin coated in perspiration. “I’m about ready to ante up myself.”

Without warning, Salvatore surged to his feet, pulling her off the bench and against his hard body.

“No need to fight,
cara,
” he husked. “Unless that turns you on.”

In this moment, everything was turning Harley on.

The feel of Salvatore’s hard body, his frigging delicious musky scent, the pulse of his outrageous power…

Without warning, a hand descended on her shoulder, yanking her around to discover a large Pecoste demon leering at her with yellow eyes, his tusks dripping with venom.

Salvatore instantly bared his teeth, his eyes blazing with the eerie glow of a werewolf a breath away from shifting.

“Remove your hand before I…”

Harley didn’t wait for the two males to enjoy banging on their chests and blowing a lot of hot air.

With one smooth motion, she kicked the Pecoste demon in the knee, waiting for him to instinctively bend over before she connected her fist with his chin. The demon flew backwards, landing on a table two tiers down. There was a snarl of anger from the demons below and a savage brawl broke out, but Harley didn’t wait to appreciate her handiwork.

Instead she wiped her hands on her jeans and met Salvatore’s amused gaze.

“When I need rescuing, I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The scuffle had been fun, but the aching lust was still curling through her body. God Almighty. If she didn’t have relief soon, she might just explode.

“I’ve seen enough,” she muttered, heading for the exit as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

Not surprisingly Salvatore was swiftly at her side. “Where are you going?”

“My room.”

They waded through the crowd in silence, at last reaching the door and climbing the stairs. With every step, the clinging pheromones lessened, easing the choking desire, but Harley’s pace never slowed. The artificial lust might be dismissed by a change of location, but the restless hunger that continued to plague her would not be so easily banished.

She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew that Salvatore wouldn’t wait much longer to go after Briggs. The next few hours might be their last together.

Bypassing the lobby, Harley headed straight for her room on the upper floor, pulling her key card from her pocket and throwing open the door. Then, before she could remind herself of all the reasons why this was such a bad idea, she grabbed Salvatore’s arm and tugged him into the room, slamming the door behind him.

Salvatore lifted his brows in wary surprise. “Harley?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” she demanded, pushing him against the wall and running her hands over the hard planes of his chest.

Without warning, Salvatore grasped her wrists, halting her impatient caresses.

“Wait,
cara.
”

Her gut twisted with frustration. “Are you kidding me?”

His eyes narrowed. “I won’t be accused of taking advantage of you while you’re under the influence.”

“Fine.” She leaned forward, licking a line from his sternum to the hollow of his neck. “Then I’ll take advantage of you.”

He shuddered, his heat flaring through the room with the force of a nuclear blast.

“Works for me,” he rasped, loosening her wrists so he could pull out the scrunchie holding her hair, ramming his fingers through the thick strands. Harley wasted no time as she grasped the silk of his shirt and ripped it off him. Salvatore laughed with smug pleasure. “
Dio.
Remind me to triple my clothing allowance.”

Harley tilted back her head to meet the golden gaze half-shielded beneath his thick lashes.

“Don’t be making plans that include me, Giuliani. This is…”

“Extraordinary,” he interrupted, his hands grasping her hips and jerking her against his rigid cock.

“A temporary madness.”

“I’ll agree to the madness part.” He grabbed the bottom of her tank top, pulled it over her head, and tossed it to the floor. Her bra was next, leaving her breasts bare for his intimate exploration. “Mind-blowing, heart-stopping madness.”

She groaned as his thumbs found her hardened nipples, his head lowering to capture her lips in a kiss that demanded utter surrender.

He tasted of aged cognac, his tongue tangling with hers as his fingers tugged at the tips of her breasts, sending jolts of raw pleasure to the pit of her stomach. Harley widened her lips beneath his savage demand, her hands fumbling with the leather belt.

A wildfire was racing through her, and she was eager to be consumed by the flames.

Having dealt with the belt buckle, Harley tugged open the button of his slacks and slid down the zipper, her heart slamming against her chest as her fingers circled his heavy arousal.

Salvatore muttered a low curse, his hips surging forward as a sheen of sweat coated his beautiful face.

“Careful,
cara,
” he gritted. “I’m trying to remember to be gentle.”

In answer, Harley balanced on her tiptoes, biting the side of his neck with enough force to draw blood.

“I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf.”

With a muted roar, Salvatore was spinning to the side, slamming her into the wall as he dropped to his knees in front of her.

“You should be,” he warned, his hands ripping off her jeans, and the tiny triangle of lace beneath.

“Salvatore…”

Her breath stuck in her throat as his lips trailed a searing path up the inside of her thighs, while his hands firmly tugged her legs farther apart.

Her fingers dug into his hair, a shudder of sheer delight shaking through her.

“Oh…Lord.”

“It’s too late for prayers,” he muttered, giving her legs one last tug so he could find the damp heat he was searching for.

Harley swallowed her scream, her body quivering with erotic approval. She liked having Salvatore on his knees, making love to her with his tongue and teeth.

Her eyes slid closed, her hands stroking through his hair as a sweet tension coiled deep in her womb. She briefly remembered that there had been some insane reason that she wanted to avoid Salvatore’s magical touch, but in this moment, she didn’t give a crap.

Over and over his tongue teased her clitoris, occasionally thrusting into her opening with a skill that had her charging full steam toward her climax.

Measuring her quickening pants, Salvatore abruptly straightened, kicking off his shoes and slacks to stand before her in his full glory.

And he was glorious.

His lean, perfect features. His luminous golden eyes. His chiseled, bronzed body. His cock, fully erect and eager to please.

Allowing her a few moments to appreciate the sight of his naked body, Salvatore grasped her by the waist and turned her away from him.

“Put your hands on the wall and keep your arms stiff,” he rasped in her ear, tugging her leg up and over his thigh, leaving her feeling oddly vulnerable.

Caught off guard, Harley glanced over her shoulder in confusion, her heart jerking at the stark beauty of his bronzed face.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Trust me,” he said, his hand gripping her inner thigh at the same moment his erection nudged at her slit from behind.

“Yes.”

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her neck boneless with blistering pleasure as he surged inside her. He was large and angled to thrust deep, each driving plunge hovering between intense bliss and pain.

Leaning heavily against the wall to support her weak knees, Harley groaned as his fingers slid between her folds, stroking through her damp heat in pace with the fierce, relentless pump of his hips.

Somewhere in the dark, a pack of curs was searching for them, Briggs was plotting his evil, and the King of Vampires was rushing in their direction. But the dangers held no meaning for Harley as her body tightened with a near unbearable excitement.

With a growl that was more animal than human, Salvatore buried his face in the curve of her neck, his mouth nuzzling her sensitive skin.

“You’re mine,” he said, his low words seeming to brand themselves on her soul. “For now and all eternity.”

“No.”

“Yes, Harley.” He thrust deeper, possessing her with every stroke. “There’s no going back.”

“Dammit, Salvatore…”

Her words were cut short as Salvatore sank his teeth into the base of her neck. Shocked by the delectable attack, Harley’s body arched, and a scream was wrenched from her throat as the shattering climax clutched at her body…

Caine gripped the steering wheel of the Jeep, heading back to his St. Louis lair at a pace just short of light speed.

He was a good enough general to know he should be with his pack, leading them in pursuit of Salvatore and Harley.

The curs were spooked by Salvatore’s display of power over them. It was one thing to hear rumors of the king’s ability to force a werewolf to shift, and quite another to experience it firsthand.

And Vikki was certain to bolt at the first sign of trouble. She might be willing to use her magical abilities to impress him, but not if it meant bringing any danger to herself.

Without Caine driving them on, they’d quite likely dillydally long enough to make certain that Salvatore managed to escape.

At the moment, however, Caine was too distracted to launch an all-out offensive against the King of Weres.

He needed time to sort through the doubts that were beginning to plague him.

Predictably, what he needed and what he got were two very different things.

Skimming down the graveled back roads that wound through recently plowed fields, Caine slammed on the brakes as the familiar scent of rotting flesh assaulted him.

“Shit.”

Andre shoved his dark hair from his face, his nose wrinkled with disgust.

“What the hell is that?”

“Company,” Caine muttered, wishing he had the balls to ignore the unmistakable summons. Of course, if he ignored the summons there was a good chance he wouldn’t have any balls to worry about.

“Company?” Andre shuddered. “It smells like he needs to lay down so someone can finish burying him.”

Caine shoved the stick shift into park. “Stay here.”

“No. You…”

Caine’s hand shot out to grab his companion by the throat. “Stay. Here.”

“Got it,” the cur rasped. “Stay here.”

Ignoring the bile that rose in his throat, Caine headed for the small cluster of trees. This was what he’d signed up for, wasn’t it? A little tit for a little tat.

He just wanted to get his damned tit so he could be done with the nasty tat.

There was an odd shimmer among the shadows, then the outline of Briggs appeared, his crimson eyes glowing like the pits of hell. Obediently, Caine fell to his knees.

“Master.”

A blast of cold swirled through the air, crawling over Caine’s skin.

“Scurrying back to your lair like the spineless coward you are, eh, Caine?”

“I have my pack searching for Salvatore. It’s only a matter of time before they capture him.” The lies tripped easily off Caine’s tongue, his head lowered to hide his wary expression. “I need to make sure I have a cell prepared that can hold him.”

“There’s no need. Our plans have changed.”

Caine stiffened. A change in plan usually meant the first plan had gone to hell. Not what he wanted to hear.

“What do you mean?”

“Congratulations, cur,” Briggs hissed. “Your day of glory is at hand. Soon you will be transformed, as you always dreamed.”

Caine slowly lifted his head, suspicious. Briggs had always been far too vague on how this transformation was supposed to take place.

“How? Harley has escaped.”

“Forget the bitch.”

“But…”

The crimson eyes flared with lethal anger. “I must have Salvatore.”

Caine swallowed his demand to know the hows, whens, and wheres of the mystical transformation that had been promised to him for years.

His personal vision had revealed his blood running over barren stone, shimmering with the power only true Weres possessed, but interpreting such a vision was always difficult.

“My pack is on his trail.”

“Salvatore will destroy your pathetic excuse for a pack without breaking a sweat.”

Caine ground his teeth. “I’m aware of Salvatore’s superior strength.”

“Then you will pull back your servants and allow me to deal with the bastard.”

“Deal with him, or kill him?”

“Oh, I’ll kill him in due time.” The Were’s voice was thick with anticipation. “First, I have need of him alive.”

The memory of the violent battlefield he’d left behind spoiled Caine’s pleasure at savoring Salvatore’s impending downfall. Briggs might boast about his plans for the King of Weres, but Caine was no longer willing to believe that Briggs was invincible.

“You intend to capture him?”

“Yes.”

“By yourself?”

An icy power slammed into Caine’s chest, stopping his heart.

“Surely you don’t doubt my ability to do so?”

Caine’s hands dug into the dirt, the pain radiating from his chest through his body in sharp bursts.

“I would never be so foolish,” he groaned.

“I wonder.” The repulsive smell nearly choked Caine as Briggs moved closer. “Could it be that your loyalty is wavering, Caine?”

Caine pressed his head to the ground. Damn. He’d gone too far. Briggs wouldn’t tolerate having his superiority over Salvatore questioned. Certainly not by a mere cur.

Time for damage control.

“No, master, but Salvatore has often joined powers with the vampires. He will be next to impossible to capture if he is protected by the bloodsuckers.”

Briggs snorted, not so easily deceived. “Then it’s fortunate I have no need to capture Salvatore.”

“You believe he’ll turn himself over to you?”

“That’s exactly what I believe.”

“I’m going to admit that would be my last guess.” Caine was careful to speak into the mud. Briggs was still too close for his peace of mind. “Salvatore might be arrogant, but he isn’t suicidal.”

“No, but he’s desperate to kill me. Once I offer him the opportunity, he’ll be more than eager to join me.”

“He’ll sense it’s a trap.”

Briggs laughed. A hollow, sinister sound that made the distant coyotes howl in alarm.

Gallows humor. Had to love it.

“And yet, he’ll still come. Salvatore is nothing if not predictable.”

Warily, Caine lifted his head, meeting the crimson gaze. “I assume I have some role in all of this?”

“There are a pack of curs camped near your lair, believing you still hold Salvatore.”

Caine shrugged. He’d received a call from his pack the minute the curs had surrounded his house.

“They’re being watched.”

“I want you to bring them to me here.”

As the words left Briggs’s lips, an image of barren caves below an abandoned Victorian church seared through Caine’s mind. Not just figuratively seared, but actually and painfully seared. Like a map had been branded into his brain tissue.

Holy hell. Hadn’t the bastard heard of GPS?

“Why?”

“Because I want Salvatore to suffer before he dies,” Briggs said, his hatred for the King of Weres pulsing in the air. “There are few things that give me more pleasure than the thought of watching Salvatore’s anguish as he’s forced to kill one of his loyal servants.”

Caine hid his shudder. He’d always considered himself a badass who ruled his pack with an iron fist, but Briggs made him seem like a freaking pansy in comparison.

“Yeah, I can just imagine.”

“Ah, but you won’t have to imagine,” Briggs taunted. “You’ll be at my side.”

Rising to his feet, Caine covertly stepped back from the biting cold that surrounded Briggs.

“And I’ll be given the secret to unlocking the Were’s blood?”

“Don’t worry, Caine. Soon you’ll be given the reward you so richly deserve,” Briggs crooned, the crimson eyes mocking. “Don’t fail me.”

There was a loud pop, and the Were disappeared.

Caine didn’t hesitate. Spinning on his heel, he darted back to the Jeep. No way he was waiting around for an encore performance.

Glad he’d taken the doors out of his vehicle, Caine vaulted into his seat and rammed the Jeep into drive.

“Shit.”

Andre gripped the dashboard as Caine thundered over a wooden bridge without slowing.

“Are you okay?”

Caine shivered, the nasty cold still clinging to his skin.

“Soon you’ll be given the reward you so richly deserve…”

He should be delirious. He should be tap dancing on top of the freaking world.

Instead he wished that Briggs had taken his damned visions to some other gullible cur.

“What I am is screwed,” he muttered.

Andre narrowed his dark gaze. “Do I need to scout a new lair? The Bahamas? Australia? The Antarctic?”

Caine had to admit it was tempting.

He could keep driving and start over far, far away from the feuding Weres. To hell with becoming a pureblood.

Then he gave a shake of his head. “It’s too late to run,” he grimly admitted. “There’s nothing left but to hope we can survive this fucking train crash.”

Salvatore paced the floor of Harley’s bedroom, the disposable cell phone that Santiago had left for him pressed to his ear. Listening to Hess’s recorded voice echo in his ear, he halted to gaze down at the black-and-gold bed that was still rumpled and warm from his last bout of mind-blowing sex with Harley.

Cristo,
the woman was teaching him a whole new meaning of paradise.

It was more than the raw, feral pleasure that exploded between them. More than the sense of destiny that hummed through his veins. More than the relentless ache to keep his mate near.

It was the simple, uncomplicated pleasure of a man who had just made love to the woman who filled his heart with joy.

The scent of rich vanilla teased at his nose. Salvatore turned to watch as Harley strolled from the attached bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her slender body, her damp hair clinging to her bare shoulders.

He snapped shut the phone and tossed it on the bed, hiding a smile as Harley allowed her gaze to covertly slide over his naked form before jerking back to his face.

“Something wrong?” she demanded.

“I’ve tried to contact Hess, but I go straight to voice-mail.”

“You think something’s happened to him?”

Salvatore shrugged, not bothering to hide his frustration. He was the perfect example of a control freak. Delegating gave him a rash, and asking others for help, especially the brigade of the living dead, was worse than chewing on silver.

“It’s impossible to know, and until Briggs is dead, along with his ability to control the minds of curs, I can’t take the risk of tracking him down. I must depend on Styx to send out a search party.”

Attempting to appear nonchalant, Harley moved to the bed, burrowing beneath the comforter to hide her delectable body.

“Speaking of Styx, what do you plan to do once he arrives with his Ravens?” she demanded.

As always, Salvatore was fascinated by Harley’s odd combination of fierce, brazen desire and blushing female reserve.

Lured like a moth to the flame, he crossed to perch on the edge of the mattress, his fingers toying with a wet strand of hair that draped over her shoulder. Instantly his frustration eased.

“I intend to travel with them back to Chicago.”

“And then?”

“Is there a reason for your curiosity?” He leaned forward to plant a kiss just below her ear. “Do you have plans for me,
cara
?”

She stiffened, the scent of her arousal perfuming the air.

“Several.”

“Several?” His tongue traced the line of her collarbone. “I like the sound of that.”

“Most of them include a muzzle and a silver leash.”

“Kinky.”

She pressed her hands against his shoulders, pushing him back with a chiding expression.

“Does anything deflate that oversized ego of yours?”

He grabbed her hand to pull it to his mouth, nibbling on the pad of her thumb.

“Not when I have you in my bed.”

“Salvatore…” Her words broke off as she frowned with a sudden distraction, turning her head to sniff at her outstretched arm. “Good God.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just took a shower.”

“You should have waited for me,” he teased, keeping a cautious watch on the glitter in her hazel eyes. Harley didn’t have to be able to shift to be dangerous. “I would have scrubbed your back.”

“I scrubbed my own back, so the question is…” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do I still smell like you?”

“Ah,” Salvatore breathed, forgetting the danger as a primitive, wholly uncivilized surge of satisfaction raced through him.

His mating musk had been in full bloom during their rousing bout of sex. She would carry his mark for days.

“What’s going on?”

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘That what you don’t know can’t hurt you’?” he asked, his smile wry.

She jerked her hand from his grasp. “You’re hiding something from me.”

“No. If you want the truth I’ll give it to you, but…”

“If you tell me I can’t handle the truth, I swear I’ll rip your tongue out.”

Salvatore studied her in silence. The pale, perfect features. The clear hazel eyes. The full, lush lips.

A face that was forever engraved on his heart.

To tell or not to tell?

He hadn’t intended to reveal the mating. Not until he was done killing Briggs and putting the curs back in their place so he had time to concentrate on a full-scale charm offensive.

For all his outrageous arrogance, he wasn’t stupid enough to pretend that Harley was ready and eager to be his mate. Hell, she was still trying to decide whether he was friend or enemy.

He didn’t want to scare her off before he could do some serious wooing.

Then again, he was beginning to understand this female.

She would badger and pester and be as annoying as possible until she was satisfied he’d revealed what she wanted to know.

“Very well, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Her jaw tightened with impatience. “Giuliani.”

He caught and held her gaze. “You carry my scent because you’re my mate.”

Her face paled, her eyes wide with a stunned disbelief. Salvatore swallowed a sigh. Well, he hadn’t expected high-fives and backflips. Still, it would be nice if she didn’t look as if she’d just been told she had the ebola virus.

“Mate?” She shook her head. “No freaking way.”

He shrugged, disguising his disappointment with indifference.

“You asked.”

She scooted to press her back against the headboard, bending her knees and wrapping her arms around them in an unconsciously defensive position.