Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (17 page)

Which would be way easier to accomplish if she wasn’t dead on her feet.

She gave a soft growl and tried to just focus on the song blaring from the speakers. The subversive part of her mind that never shut off was busily trying to justify why she hadn’t told Lily about Tasmin’s bizarre and frightening change last night. But really, how was she supposed to describe that? His voice got weird, he started speaking in the third person, he insinuated he was going to kill her…

Yeah, any of those would have worked
…

Damn it.

“Drum solo!” she cried, more than a little desperately, and pounded the steering wheel with her palms as the bridge kicked in.

No thinking no more thinking NO THINKING
.

It worked, if only by making her find herself distractingly annoying. Bay barely noticed anything was odd apart from herself before she started to pull into her driveway.

“What the hell?” she muttered, stomping her foot on the brake. The SUV jerked to a stop, and she had the fleeting thought that it was a good thing Grimm had been laying
down. Then she was leaning forward, peering at her dark and quiet house.

There had been a figure in her front window looking out.

She knew she’d seen it, even though it had been gone once she’d blinked—a slim, dark shadow with eyes that glinted unnaturally when they’d spotted her. Bay watched the window for a moment, half expecting the figure to return. But there was nothing.

It was dead quiet. And someone was in her house.

“Damn it,” she cursed, backing into the road and then shoving the shifter into drive with fingers that had gone cold and numb. Panic tickled the back of her throat, threatening to become a scream. She’d known the ground had shifted last night. She just hadn’t realized how much.

There was a vampire waiting for her in her house. And it had
wanted
her to see it.

By the time she was admitted through the gate at Lily’s mansion her knuckles were white, her jaw clenched. She kept thinking she was seeing things—a darting shadow here, a pair of glowing eyes on a pedestrian there. Taunting her, trying to freak her out. Bay had never felt unsafe in her hometown before, not ever. Now, she could barely breathe until she’d made it into the Lilim’s sanctuary. And even then her nerves were on edge.

Grimm sensed her tension, staying close as she walked him toward the front door and the pool of warm and welcoming light that came through the sidelights onto the steps.

When Tasmin’s voice whispered out of the darkness just beside her, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

“Bailey?”

She gasped, whirling around to find him standing only a foot away from her. Her heart was pounding so fiercely that it took her a minute to formulate a coherent sentence, and even then her voice sounded breathless and strange.

“Damn it, don’t sneak up on me!”

His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t
sneak
. You mortals just don’t pay enough attention to your surroundings.”

Tasmin’s brusque tone, coupled with the terror she’d felt when his voice had come out of the darkness, had tears springing to her eyes. Which made her feel stupid, and embarrassed, and angry… mostly at herself. She’d always been able to handle her own problems. She’d been the I’ll-do-it-myself kid all her life. So why was she about to melt into a sobbing puddle in front of a relative stranger?

She sniffed, hoped it sounded like she was just getting a cold, and swallowed her tears. Unfortunately, new ones were threatening to storm the gate. To his credit, Tasmin seemed to realize she was right on the edge.

He looked at her more closely, gold eyes burning in the dark.

“Something frightened you.”

“Yeah, you,” she said, and when the hurt flashed loud and clear across his face she realized he must think she was talking about last night.

“Not that,” she blurted, and her nose plugged up completely as a single, treacherous tear slithered down her cheek. “I mean, kind of, but… I just want to see Lily!”

She knew she sounded childish, but she was getting desperate. She was going to bawl, right here and now. Grimm whined beside her, staring up at her face and wagging his tail hopefully. He hated it when she got upset.

That made two of them.

Bay tried to step around Tasmin, but he moved easily right back into her path. She made a frustrated little sound as several more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Tasmin. Let me go.”

“No.” His gaze was so fierce she wondered, just for a moment, if she was dealing with the
other
Tasmin again. And tonight, she didn’t think she had the strength left to deal with him. Then he lifted one hand and, with a tenderness that stunned her, brushed away the tears now streaming steadily from her eyes.

“Why are you crying, Bailey?” His voice was soft, and as tender as his touch. “Is it because you’re afraid of me?”

“No,” she said, her voice as unsteady as her legs. “No, I probably should be, but you’re further down on my list right now.”

Bay found herself leaning into his touch. How something so fierce could hide this kind of gentleness amazed her—but Tasmin was a creature of contradictions. That much she’d figured out. What surprised her was how quickly he managed to soothe her, simply by being there.

“What happened?”

Whether it was a mistake or not, she let herself be soothed. Let herself trust him.

“My house,” she said. “I went home and… I saw someone in the window. Maybe I imagined it, but I… I don’t think so. And then on the way here, I kept thinking I saw more of them.” She shook her head, and her whole body seemed to shake as well. “I sound like I’m losing it.”

He muttered a few words in a language she didn’t understand.

“Tasmin?”

“It wasn’t your imagination,” he said, and gave her cheek a final caress before stepping away. “This is my fault. Stay here. I’ll take care of it.”

He whirled to walk away from her, and all she could see was him surrounded by the vampires of last night, yelling at her to run while he was overrun. If the town was crawling with Ptolemy now, if he went to her house alone…. however strong he was, he wouldn’t make it. She knew it with a bone-deep certainty.

And she refused to accept that. She didn’t want Lily right now, Bay realized. She wanted him.

Bay reached out to grab his arm before he could get away. Tasmin jerked to a halt and spun back to stare at her.

“They’ll be waiting for a fight. I plan to give it to them. But I have to go
now
.”

“Don’t,” she said, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “Don’t go.”

That seemed to be the reaction he was least expecting. Tasmin looked incredulous. “How can you say that? We both know I’m the reason for this, Bailey. I’ve done this. I’ll fix it.” His voice hardened. “They’ll regret targeting you to get to me.”

Actually, she thought this was exactly the reaction they’d been aiming for. These vampires had been watching them. They knew she and Tasmin had… something. Whatever it was. Knowing they’d been watched made her stomach clench. How long had they been watching her?

Tasmin tried to go again, but she tightened her grip on him. This time he growled, a sound she would have found terrifying from anyone but him.

“You’re not going alone,” she said. “No way. You almost didn’t make it last night.”

He stared for a moment. “Do you honestly think I’m afraid of death?”

There was such desolation in his words, slicing through her and cutting her to the bone.

“Do you honestly think I’m going to let you die?” she asked quietly.

She kept her hand fisted in the sleeve of his coat, feeling the tension pouring from him. He didn’t move, barely seemed to breathe while he watched her, pupils mere slits in the darkness.

“Why?” he asked hoarsely. “Why do you care? I could have killed you last night. Let me at least atone for that.”

His words didn’t shock her, though maybe they should have. She’d felt the violence in whatever it was he’d become for that short time. And all vampires were perfectly capable killers, even at the best of times.

“You have nothing to atone for. That wasn’t you,” Bay said, and saw the surprise on his face. “I know that wasn’t you. It was… something else. Do you even remember what you said to me?”

He slowly shook his head. “No. I never do. Bailey… the something else… I think I know what it is. When I was still in India, not long after I awakened, I saw a healer. Very old, very strong. Bailey…” He trailed off, and there was so much pain in his eyes. Somehow, she already knew what he would say. When it came to vampires, it was always a good idea to expect the worst.

It might have been funny, if it wasn’t so constantly devastating.

Tasmin’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “There’s a demon in me, Bailey. I don’t know who put it there, or why. But it’s there. It’s made me do terrible things. Things
I’m glad I have no memory of. I think the demon is why I survived so long in that cave without food. And now it wants something. I have to fight it, Bailey. And when I’m with you, you
help
me fight it. Last night, I was gone… and then I felt you. Your kiss pulled me back.” His hand, now hesitant, lifted again, paused, and then stroked a gentle path down her cheek. The tears had stopped, drying into salt.

Bay couldn’t speak. Fear, anger, sorrow, need—they all tangled together in a hopeless knot deep in her chest. It wasn’t fair—his curse, her feelings, none of it. Tasmin looked haunted.

“I don’t know what that means. I don’t know if I should keep you close or push you away. More than anything else, I don’t want you hurt. I owe you this, Bailey. Let me protect you again, while I still can. It’s the least I can do.”

While I still can.
He thought the demon would eventually overtake him. Bay knew that unless something was done, he was almost certainly right. Which was why she was so determined to do whatever she could to find that help for him. There had to be some kind of cure for this, something to pull the demon out of him.

The only shock she felt was that there
was
no real shock about this, only a resigned acceptance that she’d finally taken on a fight where the odds weren’t only stacked against her, they were almost certainly insurmountable.

There was no reward waiting here, whatever happened.

But she didn’t abandon people. And in some ways, being unable to see anything but one day at a time with Tasmin made giving in to the moment easier.

Bay stepped closer, drawn to the warmth that seemed to be as singular among vampires as Tasmin’s other abilities.
He didn’t try to pull away, but she could feel him getting ready to bolt.

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “You saved my life last night.”

His breath was ragged, his expression pained. “Of course I did. I would never let anyone hurt you.”

The words, the raw honesty of them, reverberated deep within her.

“Then stay here with me.”

“Bailey,” he said, “I’m afraid
I’ll
hurt you.”

“Then why are you here right now? Why did you stay this morning? I know it was you,” she added when he looked away. “I could smell you everywhere. I… I wanted to see you,” she admitted. “I wish you’d stayed.”

In a single fluid movement so quick she saw only a blur of motion, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her into him. Her hands curled up in front of her, pressed against his chest. His breathing was fast and shallow, and the look in Tasmin’s eyes was pure torment.

“Have you never wanted something you shouldn’t,
meri jaan
?”

The words, unfamiliar and beautiful, felt like a caress. “What… what did you call me?”

Tasmin drew in a deep breath and lowered his eyes for just a moment. When he looked back up at her, there was a vulnerability in his expression that surprised her.

Why?
she wondered sadly.
Why couldn’t you have been just a man I met, instead of a part of all this?

“
Meri jaan
is what you call someone you… care about,” Tasmin said haltingly, and Bay knew he wasn’t giving her the whole translation. Still, his admission made it unimportant right that instant.

“You care about me, then,” she said. It was amazing, that this deadly creature could turn so charmingly awkward at the mention of emotion.

He didn’t answer her, instead watching her with eyes that seemed to give off a searing heat all their own. “You didn’t answer my question, Bailey. Did you ever want something you couldn’t have? Not a small thing, but something that could break you if you let it?”

“Only you,” she whispered.

He made a soft, pained sound, then pulled her against him. Bay sighed as she parted her lips, melting into the kiss. There was no coaxing this time, no hesitation. Instead of the fierce urgency of last night, however, Tasmin’s mouth on hers was soft, gentle… and so thorough that Bay felt his need for her reverberate all the way down to her toes. The surprising sweetness of it made it all the more impossible to resist. Bay slid her arms up to twine around his neck while he drew her closer, deepening the kiss until nothing existed but the two of them, his mouth on hers. Bay stroked his thick, silken hair, over his broad shoulders, down his back. She could never seem to get close enough, Bay thought, increasingly frustrated with the amount of clothes between them. She wanted to be somewhere dark and quiet with him, skin to skin. Somewhere she could finally just give in and explore everything Tasmin had to offer. Her hands dropped to his hips, pulling him even closer. Bay hissed out a breath when she realized just how hard he was for her. Last night, teetering at the edge of an abyss, he’d been half-wild. Tonight there was a restraint that she didn’t understand.

She wanted more than sweet. She wanted the lion back.

Tasmin pulled his lips from hers with a shudder and
pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, a faint frown creasing his brow. “I can hear your thoughts, Bailey,” he said, the harshness of his voice betraying his desire. “You shout them at me. You have no idea what they do to me.”

“Then show me,” she breathed. A cold breeze wrapped itself around them, but Bay barely felt it. All she felt was the heat between them, the tight swelling between her legs, the way every motion abraded her already sensitive nipples when she brushed against him. She was so tired of trying to convince herself this was the wrong thing, since every time she was near Tasmin, it was the
only
thing.