Read Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10) Online
Authors: Colleen Gleason
Tags: #Fiction/Romance/Paranormal
Macey embraced him, and he planted a quick, smacking kiss on her lips. “Be strong, lulu,” he murmured into her ear, giving her a crushing, one-armed hug.
“I’ll see you soon?” she asked, clutching his arm. Suddenly, she didn’t want him to go.
“I’m off to Siberia in short order,” he replied, “but I have some things to attend to here before I go.”
Then he turned to shake hands with Grady, followed by Savina and Max. They stood there talking as Grady unlocked the door.
“I’ll just get my things,” Macey said, going through the door as soon as Grady pushed it open. She ran up the stairs, leaving them all to say goodbye to Chas. She wanted to get out of here and go somewhere private where she could begin to deal with everything that had happened in the last few days.
She was stuffing things into her satchel as quickly as possible when Macey heard Savina come into the bedroom.
“I’ve got an extra—” Her heart stopped. It wasn’t Savina standing in the doorway, bathed in light from the hallway. It was Grady.
She recovered quickly and returned to shoving lingerie, stakes, and vials of holy water into her bag. “I’ll be finished here in a second.”
“I thought you were dead.” His voice, low and tight, cut through the room.
Macey stilled and looked up, seeing him fully for the first time. His face was a mask of pain and anger as he stood, blocking the doorway.
“I stood there and I watched her put a bullet into you. I thought you were
dead
.”
She swallowed, though it was difficult with a dry throat and the lump clogging it. “I…”
Leaning against the doorjamb, he bowed his head, rubbing his forehead with jerky movements. “I thought I’d lost you—that you were really gone. And I realized I…couldn’t…I was…” He was shaking his head, his expression tortured with misery, anger, and regret.
“I’m sorry,” she said, finally able to force out the words. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone—well, except for Flora,” she added with a tense laugh…for the grief still lingered in her heart. And now it was expanding even more, painfully swelling inside her chest as she saw the agony playing out on her beloved’s face. “It was the only way I could—”
“Macey, my God—what you asked of Wayren was wrong.
So
incredibly wrong…”
“Oh, God, Grady, I
know
, I was…” Her voice broke. How could she ever apologize, explain…ever be worthy of his forgiveness?
“But the simple truth is—despite it all—despite the—the enormity of what you did…Macey, I don’t want to live my life without you.
Dammit.
” His voice was raw, and he was barely grinding out the words.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she wanted to go to him…but she dared not. “I love you. So much. I know what I did was an abomination, an unforgivable decision. It was as good as—as destroying you. I was wrong.”
He lifted his face finally, and the look in his eyes stabbed her low in the belly. They were dark, brilliant blue—like clear and bold sapphires, tormented and desperate…yet there was a flicker of hope in them.
“In spite of that, oh, dammit, Macey…I want you by my side—and I want to be by your side—through all of this: whatever hell or fury you might face. Whatever wars or grief or loss we might have, I want to face them together. With you. And I find I…I can’t change that.”
He stepped away from the door, into the room, holding her with that intense gaze. “In spite of it all,
a rún
, I love you more than anything. I always will.”
Macey didn’t remember moving, but the next thing she knew, she was in his arms and they were kissing as if they needed it to breathe. His face was wet, and the saltiness from her own tears mingled with the sensual warmth of his lips as she devoured him, pulling his face closer to hers.
She couldn’t control a delicate tremor, and pressed closer into his embrace—for it was like coming home and having a great weight lifted from her shoulders and arriving in heaven—all at once.
He sighed her name as he tightened his arms around her, burying his face in her hair then trailing soft kisses along her jaw and along the front of her ear. She shivered with pleasure, her body coming alive as it evolved from intense pain and grief to sweet, sudden passion.
“Macey, do you need— Oh.”
She pulled away to see her father standing in the doorway. Savina was right behind him, and she tugged at his arm—which, of course, did little to move him. “I told you that everything was fine. Now, leave them be. I’ve been sitting on this secret since Sunday, wondering when it was going to come out.”
Savina gave Macey and Grady a smile. “I know you have much to—er—talk about, so Max and I will be leaving now.” She tugged at his arm again. “Right, darling?”
But Max seemed unwilling to move as his eyes went from Macey’s face to Grady’s face…then to the locations of his hands. His expression darkened.
“I suppose I’m going to have to learn to dislike you intensely now,” he muttered. “Which is a damned shame, because I was rather fond of you, you bloody mick.”
Then he turned and walked away.
TWENTY-SEVEN
~ A Lot of Talking & Some Other Activities Too ~
The door closed behind Savina
, leaving them alone once more.
“Grady,” Macey began, now that she’d settled abruptly back to earth. “I can’t imagine how—”
“Don’t,” he said, and pressed a light kiss to her puffy lips, then coming back for more: a long, slick one that had her head spinning. He licked the inside of her mouth with slow, sensual strokes, teased her tongue with his, sucked and nibbled on her lips as desire rolled through her like an approaching storm.
He pulled away and spoke, his voice soft and rough. “We can talk later. Right now…I just want to make love to you, Macey. I need to put all of that aside for a little while…and—and feel again.”
She blinked back tears of guilt and pain. “Oh, Grady, yes…please,” she whispered as she lifted her face to kiss him, then moved along to taste the saltiness of his warm skin along a jaw gritty with stubble, and to the long, strong tendon of his neck.
He vibrated a little, giving a soft groan as she kissed and licked and nibbled there—all the while, he was pulling up her sweater to slide his hands over her back, his hands caressing her bare skin.
It wasn’t long before he had her over to the bed, leaving a trail of shoes and trousers and stockings along the way. But he paused when she flung off her sweater and began to unhook the special corset.
“This,” he said, moving his hands over the stiff, uncomfortable girdle, “is what saved my life…because it saved yours. I’m thinking I should be kissing Al Capone’s damned feet.”
Macey gusted out a laugh—because otherwise she would cry—and replied, “I don’t think that would be very pleasant—
Oh!
” She squeaked in surprise, for he’d slipped his hand, not beneath the corset as she’d expected, but down into her drawers.
He muttered something bordering on profane when he touched her there and discovered how slick and full she was, and looked up at her with hot eyes.
“Macey,” he whispered.
She realized at that moment, in a blinding rush of shock, that he hadn’t been certain she’d want him the way she had before. That something might have changed between them.
What a fool. What fools they both were.
“Help me get out of this thing,” she said, matching his look with her own avid, promising one. “I need to feel you against me…and inside of me. Please, Grady.”
That was all he needed—and his clever, clever fingers made short work of the Capone contraption as she yanked his shirt apart. Buttons flew, bouncing everywhere, and as the prison of her corset fell away, she had the pleasure of sliding her hands up over his taut, lightly haired chest, carefully avoiding the scores and cuts from his vampire battles.
At last they were completely naked, sliding and easing against the other—muscle to curve, rough hair to smooth skin, legs twined, mouths engaged, hands everywhere. Grady breathed something in Irish against her lips as she guided him between her legs, raising herself to take him in.
Oh, yes.
Macey closed her eyes and held him, lifting her hips in easy, slow movements to match his, reveling in the beauty of this age-old rhythm that could bespeak such love and passion. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes—tears of grief and joy, tears of pleasure and comfort.
And when their movements became more urgent—deeper and harder and faster—she forgot the tears and the grief, and settled into the joy and pleasure building inside her. Macey cried out, arching up into him, pulling him close and hard as she came. He groaned her name with his final stroke, and she dragged her hands through his thick, wild hair, looking up at her love as his face went slack with pleasure and release.
Then, swimming back to reality, her body still humming and hot, her mouth settled on the warm, salty skin of his shoulder, tasting Grady…feeling at last as if she was no longer alone, and would never be alone again. He lowered himself so their damp bodies touched, then eased off to the side, pulling her close with him.
Some time later…much later, after another hot, passionate interlude and another doze…Macey realized sunlight was pouring into the room.
It was morning. And, for the first time in weeks, she’d slept beautifully.
Out of habit, she dragged on a robe and slipped down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up, then down to the kitchen to find something to eat. All of a sudden, she was hungrier than she’d been for a long time.
She was in the kitchen, making a tray of food from the slim pickings in Grady’s fridge—a boiled egg, some good Irish cheddar, some apples, and a half loaf of bread that was almost stale—when she heard the stairs creaking.
“There you are,” he said, coming into the kitchen. When she saw his face, she realized with a sharp pain that he’d been afraid she was gone.
It wouldn’t have been the first time.
“Grady,” she said, setting the tray aside and walking into his arms. He folded her against his strong, naked body and she sighed, bumping her nose gently against his skin as she drew in a deep breath of his scent. “I’m not going to leave—unless you want me to.”
His arms tightened, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Not until I’m quite finished with you,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “And I’m thinking that will be a while,
a rún
.”
“What does that mean?
A rún
?” She looked up at him.
“It means, literally, my secret…as in, the secret of my heart. The deepest, truest secret of my heart.”
“Oh. But…you called me that…before.”
His expression took her breath away more effectively than even the kisses they’d shared. “Yes. But now it’s even truer, is it not?”
“You never forgot me, then, did you?” She shook her head. “Your memory wasn’t…well…” She couldn’t even put into words the travesty of what she’d tried to do. Her stomach felt like a lead balloon had settled in it, and suddenly she was no longer ravenous.
“Wayren gave me the choice.”
“I see.”
He nodded gravely and stepped back a little. His eyes changed, turning to wintry Lake Michigan instead of warm blue sky. “She gave me the choice of living in oblivion—and safety—or staying as I was. When she told me you’d— Well. It wasn’t a difficult decision—I didn’t hesitate. But I’ve been unspeakably angry with you, Macey. I don’t deny it.”
“As well you should be.” Her heart gave a little awkward
ka-thump
at the thought that he might still, and always, deep inside be unspeakably angry with her. That he might never trust her again. That, despite the last hours of the most beautiful and passionate lovemaking she’d ever had, they might never be the way they once were…or could have been. That it could be the last time they were together thus.
“I tried to understand, but how could I? After what we’d been through?” His voice was hard, and he looked away, curling his fingers over the edge of the kitchen counter. “After all of that, you’d still rejected me.”
Macey’s throat closed up and she couldn’t speak. Tears obliterated her vision and she found she needed a damned handkerchief again.
He sighed and groped in a drawer, then handed her a kitchen towel. “For a lethal Venator, you’re certainly unprepared at times.”
“What I did was inexcusable. I know that. I-I was just trying to protect—”
“Me?” His voice was like flint.
“No,” she whispered. “
Me
. I was trying to protect myself from having to go through what my father did. From—from being in a situation where I’d have to make a choice about whether to save you or to save the world. From having to live every moment in fear that it might happen, that someone would take you from me. From doing what Victoria Gardella did, when she married Philip de Lacey.”
He was silent for a moment, but his strong, dark hand moved to touch hers in a brief squeeze. “Savina said the same thing.” He looked at the tray and picked it up. “I’m hungry. Let’s sit down.”
Macey released her breath. Now she understood how he felt, walking into the kitchen to find her there—discovering that their passionate interlude was not just a flash in the pan, not just a short, false interval. That they were going to talk, and hopefully heal what had gone between them.
“Savina knew?” Macey asked as she sat on the sofa. He’d set the tray of food on the table next to them.
“She figured it out. We spent a lot of time talking on Sunday—that horrible rainy day. That day you came here.” He looked at her, and Macey blushed, turning away.
“Savina didn’t recognize you, but I did. Why did you come? It made me— It disturbed me. I’d been doing…all right. Even after seeing you at the photo exhibit the night before. That was…impossible. I hadn’t expected you to be there, and there you were. And you looked…” He shook his head. “I thought I was never going to recover.”
Macey needed a handkerchief again. What a damned fool she’d been. Was there any way to turn time backward? To fix this somehow?
“But I made it through that night—I was glad you left the photo show early, you know. I might not have been able to… And then there you were, showing up here the next day, in the rain, looking so forlorn and lost and sad under that blasted hat you were wearing. And after that, after you were gone…well, I said too much, asked too many questions of Savina about your father, and their relationship…and she figured out that you and I had…that we’d been together.”