Sabrina's Clan (13 page)

“Come with me,” Nyanther breathed. He rocked in and out of him, moving with gentleness at first.

“Harder,” Jake hissed. “Faster.”

“Not this time.”

“Next time,” Jake insisted.

“Yes.”

He couldn’t help himself. He began to thrust deeper and harder anyway, just as Jake had wanted. The climax rushed at him with the power of a runaway train that nothing or no one could stop. It was almost frightening in its intensity.

With a roar, he came, his body locking up with the force that ripped through him, tearing at his mind and his nerves. He heard Jake shudder and groan through his own orgasm and that made it even better.

It wasn’t until he fell on the bed next to Jake, his heart pistoning in his chest, that he remembered his vow to keep Jake and anyone else from getting tangled up in his miserable life.

Now what was he going to do?

Jake wasn’t sure he would ever move again. It felt as though all his muscles had melted.

Why had he ever denied himself this before? There had been offers, many of them, most of them subtle, but they had been there and he had chosen to ignore them.

They weren’t Nyanther
. That was what it came down to in the end. He was trying to give up on self-denial, so he had to face that fact, too. None of those past offers had been a part of this dark world he’d fallen in to, except Nyanther. Yes, it was partly what drew Jake to him, only it wasn’t all of it.

Nyanther rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Okay?”

“More than.” Jake caught his gaze.

Nyanther studied him for a minute, then looked away. “You’re hunting with us tomorrow?” he asked, sounding casual.

Tomorrow was Saturday. “Absolutely,” Jake said.

“You should probably just stay here then. Save going backward and forward.” Nyanther was still using the casual tone.

Jake sat up. He couldn’t go hunting in his suit. The tailors in Saville Row would burst into tears if they knew. Even if he stayed he would still have to go back to the apartment on Fifth Avenue and pick up his hunting clothes.

The terms were coming to him easier and easier. Gargoyles. Vampires. Hunting. Demons. Swords as weapons of efficiency.

He considered Nyanther, wondering why he would suggest staying was easier…then he understood. “I can stay,” he said.

“Good.” Nyanther kept his head averted. Jake still had no trouble reading the pleasure in the single word.

The vampire got to his feet and reached for his jeans. “You’re probably hungry. There’s something in the fridge, I’m sure—”

“Hey.” Jake caught at his hand and tugged it, making him look at him.

Nyanther’s pale gaze settled on him.

“I’m not hungry,” Jake said. “At least, not for food.” He pulled harder.

Nyanther’s pleasure was unmistakable this time. It flashed in his eyes and the movement at the corner of his mouth. “You fed me,” Nyanther said, returning to the bed. “It’s only fair I take care of you.”

“I was hoping you’d see it that way,” Jake said, as Nyanther settled over him once more.

* * * * *

Jake had been short on sleep for days and it caught up with him not long after Nyanther had brought him to an orgasm that made him cry out, every sinew straining. As his body recovered, they lay together and Jake stifled a yawn, envious of Nyanther’s lack of need for sleep.

“Sleep if you need to,” Nyanther told him.

“And let you watch me?” He was appalled. “Isn’t that like eating chocolate and making someone watch, but not touch it?”

“I like watching humans sleep…the ones who choose to sleep in my company. It is a privilege. It means you trust me.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Jake admitted. “Now I’m not so sleepy. You keep doing that.”

“Doing this?” Nyanther moved his hand against his thigh once more.

“That, too. I meant, you keep me on my toes. Mentally. There are not many people who do that.”

From outside the room, a door closed.

“Your roommate,” Jake guessed. “She works late.”

The footsteps were light, female. High heels, by the sound of the tiny clicks. They moved right through the kitchen area into the corridor outside the room. The door to the bedroom next to them was shut softly.

“And straight to bed with no dinner. A driven roommate,” Jake murmured.

“That’s something I need to talk to you about,” Nyanther said. It was fully dark now and Jake couldn’t see his face. It was just a pale blur. “Especially now.”

“You sound worried,” Jake said. When had he begun to read Nyanther so clearly?

“Guilty, is what I feel.”

Jake sat up, staring at him in the dark. “Guilty about what?” he asked stiffly. Wariness flooded him, dispelling the mellowness that had settled into his bones.

“The roommate,” Nyanther said. “It’s Sabrina Castillo.”

Jake jerked with surprise. Dark suspicions bloomed. A conspiracy? “I don’t understand,” he said slowly. “You and I met under completely different circumstances. You had no idea I would be hunting Ingong, too. It was nothing to do with Sabrina or my…my day job.” He swallowed. “Was it?”

Nyanther hadn’t moved. “She hates this world. She wants nothing to do with hunting or supernaturals, although she knows of them. Her best friend, the woman she calls her sister, is Riley, the hunter you met in Lake Placid.”

“Then I
really
don’t understand,” Jake said flatly. “You know Sabrina and I…you know we spent a night together. Clearly, or you would not be so wary about telling me who your roommate is. Is that why you found me? Did the three of you already know I was hunting Ingong? Was this all some elaborate…”

Nyanther picked up his hand and gave it a little shake.

Jake drew in a breath, containing himself.

“This is not a conspiracy. It’s one of life’s ironic coincidences, the sort that humans like to think don’t happen, that happen more often than they realize. Our worlds—mine, yours, Sabrina’s—they are all woven together on the edges, so the chances are higher than you’d think this would happen. Sabrina is the key. She hovers on the edge of my world, but would rather belong to yours.”

“You mean my human world,” Jake said. He tried to relax. He couldn’t rid himself of the knowledge that Sabrina was sitting just on the other side of the wall.

“Yes.”

He pulled his hand out of Nyanther’s. “She said we were both too complicated. We have too much baggage. Now I know what she meant.”

“You don’t know all of it yet,” Nyanther warned him. “I’ve only told you just enough so you’re not shocked when you find her in the kitchen tomorrow morning. The rest of it is for Sabrina to explain.”

“There’s more?”

“Much more. Sabrina was not lying about complications.”

“You like her,” Jake accused.

“I do.” Nyanther said it heavily. “I am the very antithesis of what she wants from life. I like her enough I would not ruin her ambitions.”

Jake drew in a slow, calming breath. “You have no problems screwing up mine?”

Nyanther remained still and quiet for a long time, long enough for Jake to worry. Then the vampire sighed. “I meant to stay away from you, too,” he said, his deep voice very low. “Only, your ambitions and mine run the same way for a while and you…I think you like me, too.”

“You have to ask that?” Jake said, astonished. Then he caught up with what Nyanther
hadn’t
said. “Wait, Sabrina doesn’t like you?”

“She doesn’t like what I am.”

“She’s an idiot,” Jake said sharply.

Nyanther shook his head. “She has her reasons and they’re good ones. Leave it, Jake. You need to sleep. At least it will be a late start tomorrow. Come and lie down again.”

Jake settled back on the pillow, feeling the tiredness pulling at him, making his eyes ache. “Are you going to warn Sabrina before breakfast happens?” he said.

“I’m working on it,” Nyanther assured him.

Jake wasn’t fooled by the breezy confidence in his voice. Nyanther had no idea how to tell her at all.

* * * * *

It started raining during the night, falling heavily against the window over their heads and waking Jake from a deep sleep. He laid blinking in the dark, disoriented, until the heavy arm over his side shifted and Nyanther’s big hand rested on his shoulder. “It’s just rain,” he murmured.

“You’re still here?” Jake whispered. “You could be out doing…anything. Something useful, besides watching me snore.”

“This was once a vampire’s duty, to watch over humans while they slept. That is why the very oldest of us could only wake during the night.”

“Then vampires really were nocturnal?”

“Once, yes. We adapted and evolved, when it became clear humans needed our protection beyond the dark hours of the night—when the Romans came, with their conquering and pillaging and their inhuman civilization process. My tribe escaped farther north, as did many others. We helped them fight the Romans.”

“That was…” Jake frowned. “Thousands of years ago.” He was too sleepy to dredge up dates.

“Before the Christians’ king died on the cross,” Nyanther confirmed softly. “And for a hundred years after that, too.”

“Your tribe….that’s what the markings are? Your tribal markings?”

“The Selgovae. One of the strongest tribes north of Hadrian’s Wall. They resisted the Romans. So did the others, with our help.”

“Humans knew about vampires then?”

“They knew us. We were welcomed into their tribes as warriors. Many of the strongest of their warriors aspired to become vampire one day, if they proved worthy.”

“And now you’re a fairy story to them.”

“Not to all of them. That is why I lie here beside you and welcome the chance.” Nyanther’s lips pressed against the back of his shoulder. “Sleep. Nothing will reach you while I am here.”

Jake believed him with the utter certainty of bone-deep, unquestioning trust. He closed his eyes…and opened them to sunlight and the sound of Spanish spoken loudly just beyond the door.

Sabrina jerked awake and lay with her heart running high and hard, as a man spouted volatile Spanish. To her, it always felt like Spanish speakers were excited if they spoke loudly enough. Whoever the man was, they were just outside her door and started hammering with their fists.

Except it wasn’t her door they were banging on. They were thudding on Nyanther’s door, instead.

It had woken her just the same. She turned her head to look at the clock. It was nearly ten in the morning. Well, she had got in late. She had put in a great couple of days in the office, shoring up relationships and making some real progress on her projects. She had dropped into bed last night, too tired to eat, but satisfied the slips and screw-ups of the beginning of the week were behind her.

Even in her mind, she could barely say his name. Instead, his blue eyes flashed through her memory, an almost subconscious image. Her cheek would tingle where he had stroked his thumb.

Time to get out of bed. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep with all this noise.

Saturday. Spanish. The man hammering on the door was probably Miguel, from Florida, one of Nick’s hunting buddies. She had heard stories about Miguel over the years. He was the only one of Riley’s parents’ hunting team who had survived and stayed in contact, even though he had moved to Florida years ago.

Curiosity roused her enough to pull herself out of bed. Nyanther and Miguel were standing at the doorway talking, both of them speaking loudly and cheerfully. There was another voice, a quieter one. Miguel’s children were hunters, too, she remembered. It was probably the son. Connor, named after Riley’s father.

Sabrina dressed and cracked open the door carefully, not wanting to bowl anyone over if they were standing right in front of her doorway.

A middle-aged man with Latinate features was standing in front of Nyanther’s door, talking in rapid Spanish and gesturing. There was no one beside him. He glanced at Sabrina, then did a classic double-take and smiled at her, showing white, even teeth. His dark eyes twinkled and he shot a stream of Spanish at her. She heard her name in the middle of it.

“This is Miguel,” Nyanther said from the other doorway. “He said ‘you must be Sabrina, of whom I have heard so much.’ I think, anyway.”

“You speak Spanish?” Sabrina asked him.

“I speak Latin,” Nyanther told her. “I can understand Spanish if it is spoken slowly enough. It’s based on Latin.”

Miguel turned to face her properly. “Sorry, it is very rude to assume someone who looks as you do speaks Spanish. I am Miguel. You are Sabrina. It is a pleasure to meet you. I have already met your daughter this morning.”

Sabrina held out her hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.”

Nyanther stepped out of the room. He was fully dressed, which was almost a shock. Another man came out behind him.

It was Jake Summerfield.

Sabrina had only once in her life had the courage to jump from the high diving platform. The three or four seconds it had taken to splash into the water below had been terrifying not because she was falling, but because for the entire handful of seconds it felt as if her body had stopped. Her heart plummeted just as she did. She couldn’t breathe. Her hearing shut down.

The same sickly, tumbling sensation slammed into her now.

She didn’t know if she staggered backward. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she had. For the few seconds her mind tried to grapple with the impossible fact that Jake Summerfield had spent the night in Nyanther’s room, every other emotion and resource in her body diverted to deal with it, shutting down all her senses except sight.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

He was looking at her. He wasn’t surprised to see her. Then he had known she was here, all along.

The realization dissolved the blockage on her reactions. Icy cold shock rushed through her. He really was here. She wasn’t delusional.

“I only found out this is your apartment last night, when you came home,” Jake told her. “It was too late then to do anything about it. I didn’t want to drop this on you.”

She swallowed. Her throat was scratchy. “How…?” That was all she could manage.