Things That Go Hump In The Night (45 page)

He swallowed, and she waited for him to change the subject. He surprised her by answering. “I was going to have them kill me. I will not become the part of me that I revile.”

Instead of pulling away, or arguing with him, she slid her hands out of his hair and framed his face. The bond between them, so new, so fragile, gave her the gentleness she needed.

“And now?”

“I have a reason to fight, for what I am. For what we have. I did not ask for this, Kat, but I have every right to live.”

She nodded. “Then we fight. Together, Vlad. And once we kick their collective asses, you’re going to help me with Ren.” Her voice cracked over his name.

“It will be my honor, love.”

He kissed her, his lips so soft, so welcoming, tears stung her eyes. She rocked against him, wanting to lose herself, to run away from what they were about to face, if only for a little while.

Michael joined her, loved her slowly, his eyes on her as the heat, the need built between them. She rode him, the feel of his hard, smooth length sliding inside her enough to send her closer to the edge.

He let out a raw gasp when she kissed his throat, playing her tongue over his hot skin, tasting his sweat, his heat. His fingers dug into her hips and he pulled her in tight, thrusting up so hard he touched her core. She let out a wordless cry and he dragged her up to his mouth, his kiss desperate as he drove them faster, higher.

When he started to pulse inside her she broke free of the kiss and pressed her throat to his lips.

“Please, Michael—God, please taste me.”

“Kat.” He groaned her name, his hot breath licking at her skin. “It is too soon—”

The evidence that he wanted it as much as she did came in the form of his canines elongating, so fast they pierced her throat without him moving.

That first taste had him yanking her head back, exposing her throat to him. Before she could take another breath he sank his teeth in.

Heat rocked her. She held him in place, meeting every powerful stroke as he tasted her, his tongue as hot and hard as his shaft. The combination had her shuddering, and she arched up, his teeth pushing in all the way.

“Michael—God—I love you—”

He responded by driving himself into her, faster, deeper, his breath ragged against her throat. She held on as he took her up and over the edge.

7

Rule Number Two: NEVER trust a monster. EVER.

~ Kat Riley’s Rules For Hunting

Kat opened her eyes, and smiled.

Michael’s big, warm body was wrapped around her, trapping her against his chest. They woke each other more than once during the night, making love, sometimes hot and fast, sometimes slow and sweet. But it was always making love.

That should have terrified her. But she had always been honest with herself—and the truth was she had been lost the first time she looked into his clear green eyes, and saw the humor behind the pain when she called him Vlad.

She touched the spot on her throat where he broke through, joining them together, not once, but three times over the course of the night. The skin was highly sensitive—hell, just touching it made her ache for him—but the marks had already healed over. She really needed to ask him about that.

He stirred, pulling her in almost before he was awake. “Morning, love.” His lips brushed her forehead, that low accented voice rough from a mostly sleepless night. “All right?”

“Tired, thank you very much.” He smiled, and the reason poked into her hip. “Last night didn’t drain you?”

“The vampire half. I can complete, but I never—”

“Deflate?”

His laughter rumbled through her. “Not completely. I have found it challenging, with you stirring my blood.”

“I like a challenge, Vlad.”

She let out a shriek when he tossed her on her back and pinned her to the bed. His lips brushed her throat and she arched up, wanting him, needing him.

Her cell phone rang just as things got interesting.

Kat froze, recognizing the ringtone.

“Ren.” She scrambled off the bed and ran to the bathroom, digging through her clothes until she found her phone. “Ren—”

“Get out, Kat. They’re coming for you, for him. Get out—”

The call cut off.

“No—” She called him back. “Come on—damn it, Ren, pick up.”

The phone kept ringing—and died abruptly, leaving dead air.

“Kat?” Michael stood in the doorway, thankfully wearing his jeans.

“It was Ren.” She moved past him, grabbing jeans and a shirt out of her closet. “You still have my knives?”

“In my saddlebag.”

“Ren said they were coming.” She tugged on her jeans, found a clean camisole in her pile of laundry and pulled it over her head. One hand dug into her pocket and pulled out the hairpin/lock pick, twisting hair behind her ear and securing it. Just in case. “I can’t sense them yet, so they’re not close. But he wouldn’t have called me if they weren’t on their way.”

Picking up the shirt, she strode out of the bedroom, falling easily into hunter mode. Her favorite boots sat near the door, the rest of her equipment in the front closet.

“Kat.” He stood in the hallway, his jeans on, his shirt still unbuttoned. She turned away from him, before she gave into the urge to touch.

“I need to get ready, Michael.”

“This includes me, Kat, whether you like it or not.” He moved to her side. “It is because of me. You are not going to take them on alone.”

“Last time they hurt you.” She took his left hand. With their new connection, she could feel the lingering pain, though he did his best to hide it from her. “I can stop them, Michael. It’s what I do. And before you spout something about their age, I have fought vamps just as old, and just as powerful. Under their pale skin, they’re all the same. That makes it easy to exploit their weaknesses.”

“Do not underestimate them.”

“Never have, Vlad. Never will.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

It was supposed to be a quick, easy kiss. Michael drew her in, his embrace loose, giving her a way to escape. She should have wanted it, but she plastered herself against him, pouring everything she felt into the kiss. Just in case.

When they finally came up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I am with you, Kat. Every step.”

“Okay,” she whispered. She stepped away from him, needing the space, needing to clear her head. “Just keep out of knife swinging range.”

A smile flashed across his face. “Absolutely.”

She returned the smile, and turned to the closet.

Her hand froze on the knob.

“They’re here. Back door—
now
.”

He nodded and ran down the hall, toward her office. Kat paused long enough to grab her backup knives before she followed him. She turned off the two alarms, reset them with her special added feature, and stepped in front of him, paused to gauge their unwanted visitors’ location. After she was sure, she nodded, easing the door open. It led to her small yard, the gate on the side of the house the only way in or out, aside from climbing the seven foot fence. Kat spent years practicing, until she could scale it in her sleep.

She pointed to the far side of the fence, gestured climbing over it. Michael nodded, ran silently across the yard, waited for her to join him. When she started to climb he caught her arm, pointed to himself. Before she could object he was up and over. She followed him, grateful for his support as he lowered her to the ground.

She led the way to the end of the fence, took a quick peek around the corner. The vamps’ presence itched at her. They were still out front, probably trying to figure out a way to step over the threshold without being invited in. If Ren were with them he could, but they were obviously too full of themselves to even think of him as a possibility.

Smiling, she turned to tell Michael they were clear.

The hand shot out and yanked her forward. She met Ren’s bloodshot eyes. He wore a black cloak that protected him from the early morning sun.

“I’m so sorry, Kat.” He knocked the knives out of her hand, the blow leaving her arm numb to the elbow. Before she could recover he trapped her against his chest and covered her mouth. “They promised to help—to take away the constant pain, if I helped them capture him.”

Kat fought him. His new strength held her in place with little effort. She was as threatening to him as a kitten.

How did she not sense…

She felt it, this close to him. He put up a block. Knowing her ability gave him that one advantage, and he used it against her. The knowledge of his betrayal drove into her heart.

Michael appeared, held by two of the three vamps she chased off in the alley. They wore the same heavy black cloaks, and radiated smug. The one she snubbed stalked forward, and cupped her chin, his fingers ice cold even through the leather glove. She swallowed. He hadn’t fed yet.

“You have been more trouble than your life is worth, hunter.” He leaned in, and she fought the need to recoil when his tongue ran down her cheek. Not that she could, trapped against Ren’s chest. “But your blood is sweet, your body young and agile.” She stilled as his fangs appeared. He scraped them down her throat, hard enough to hurt, but not to draw blood. Not yet. “I will enjoy taking you, driving my hard cock into you over and over, draining every drop of your blood while I do it, an ounce at a—”

“Free her, and I will do whatever you ask.” Michael’s voice cut off the really vivid description of her impending violation. She met his eyes, and tried to shake her head. The vamp holding her dug his fingers into her jaw. Pain flared across her face. “She has nothing to do with this, Derek.”

“She attacked us!” Derek freed her and spun to Michael. “She dared to put herself above us, by spurning our superior status.”

“She’s a Yank. She does not understand the respect given you and the Council. It is not the same here.”

“They lower themselves, this colonial Council. Having contact with filthy mortals, treating them as near equals. It sickens me, Blakely. It is time they understood what it means to be absolutely superior to these.” He gestured to Kat. “I plan to make her our first lesson.”

“Derek—”

“You have one path. You will become one of us, then prove your loyalty.” He turned back long enough to remove Ren’s hand, then press his lips to Kat’s and force his tongue into her mouth. Desire shot through her—false desire, created by his mind. But she still responded, moaning when his hand released her chin, slipped down to take possession of her breast. He smiled, and freed her lips. “You will be a most delicious lesson, hunter.”

Ren covered her mouth again. She understood why a second later.

Derek pulled a syringe out from under his cloak. Red liquid filled the barrel.

She screamed against Ren’s hand, fighting dirty to free herself. She finally found a weak spot, twisting enough to knee him in the groin. Even a vampire could be taken down with a sharp jab in the right spot.

Ren dropped to his knees—and Kat shot forward, slamming into Derek’s back. It was like hitting the side of a house.

He reached around and hauled her forward, his hand closing over her throat.

“Hold your arm out, Blakely. Willingly, or I squeeze the life out of her right now.”

“No—” She choked off as his fingers dug in.

“Let her go,” Michael said. “I will do as you ask.”

The sun rose over the houses behind them, and all four vamps hissed.

“Inside.” Derek dragged her around to the gate, which was in the shadows cast by her house. She felt their relief as the cool shadow engulfed them. They kept going, through the gate and to the back door. Derek halted inches from springing her second alarm. “Ren.”

His voice purred over her friend’s name, and Ren darted forward.

“I am here, master.” Ren even sounded different, his voice formal, and humble in a way she’d never heard before.

“You are welcome here, yes?”

“I am, master.”

“Then invite us in, and disarm her trap.”

Kat closed her eyes. Their last chance had just been neutralized.

Ren obeyed, turning off the alarm that would have given Derek the shock of his undead life. Derek punished Kat by clamping his fingers around her throat. She clawed at his hand. He squeezed, and she bucked against him, pressure building in her head, her lungs screaming for air.

Darkness edged her vision. Terrified she’d pass out surrounded by vamps, she dug her nails into his wrist.

“Derek.” Michael’s quiet voice filtered through the roaring in her head. “Harm her now, and I will do nothing.”

“Fine.” He let Kat go, and tossed her into the corner of the office. Her shoulder slammed into the wall, but she was too busy trying to breathe for the pain to register.

She recoiled when a hand touched her back.

“Kat.” Michael crouched next to her, his free hand gentle as he examined her throat. “I am so sorry.” She shook her head, her throat hurting too much to even attempt talking. “I want to say goodbye, while I still remember what we had between us.” He kissed her, soft, tender, his fingers tracing the lines of her face.

“Michael.” Her raw whisper made them both flinch. He leaned in, cradling her cheek. “Fight it.”

“I love you, my hunter. Never forget that.”

He stood, leaving her alone.

“No—” She coughed, doubled over by the pain in her throat.

When she finally recovered, she lifted her head in time to see Derek slide the needle of the syringe into Michael’s arm.

The vampire blood slipped into his bloodstream—and the effect was immediate. Michael collapsed, curled around his arm.

Kat crawled over to him, expecting to be yanked back at any second. She reached Michael, and cradled his head in her lap. His skin was icy and flushed.  She knew he fought the cold poison of the vampire blood reaching out to what already flowed through him. She could feel it.

He started convulsing. She held him enough to keep him from slamming against the floor. Tears slipped down her face; he was in such pain, and she could do nothing.

After endless minutes he went limp, finally unconscious.

Derek knelt, pulling his glove off one hand. He touched his fingers to Michael’s throat, and smiled.

“It is done. Take him to the car.” The other two vampires picked Michael up and carried him out, Ren on their heels like a trained puppy. Derek turned back to her, and she swallowed, waiting for him to start what he promised. “Not here, sweet little hunter.” He gathered her in his arms, draping the wide cloak over both of them. “You I plan to savor. Perhaps with an audience.”

Helpless against his strength, her heart aching almost as much as her throat, Kat lowered her head as he carried her out of the house.

~~*~~