Unholy Night (3 page)

“Uh huh.” Her pulse throbbed, the beat running amuck from the brush against her wrist.
Run girl, run
, pleaded her brain.
Stay girl, stay
, pleaded her libido. If she could detach her libido and leave it, she would have. This was not a pleasant situation to be stuck in—being overrun with hormones now? Tonight?

Not what she considered a proper memorial.

Of course, if she’d had her way, she would be at home right now.

The stereo’s tunes switched to Nine Inch Nails, and the dark, pulsing beat didn’t help Marissa’s euphoria at the man’s touch. Her libido screamed in ecstasy at the music choice, and her body wasn’t the only one turned on from the beat. People in the crowd started to move and dance, hips gyrating and bodies bumping together, mimicking primal movements

Her own hips started to sway a little, and she chided herself. God, how much vodka was in that punch?

Neil held out his hand. “Would you like to dance a bit?”

In the few seconds it took to make a decision, her mind warred with itself. If she said yes, the dancing would only heighten her arousal. If she said no, she might be able to flee him this second, but she doubted she could make it to the door without anyone noticing.

And then there was outside.

He raised his brow, his smile warm enough as he waited for the war in her mind to ebb.

Hell
, she thought as she reached up to take his hand.
You win this round, libido
. His palm was marred by strong calluses and defined lines. He escorted her a few feet from the food table, into an unoccupied corner. The crowd swayed and pulsed, the song, the tempo of the rhythm, even the lighting seemed to move with the music.

Neil pulled her against him, his chest pressed against hers, and she inhaled a sharp breath at the intimate contact. That gentlemanly confidence radiated off him, daring her to admit she didn’t like the closeness.

And her libido was absolutely loving this. She hated to admit it, but it was true. He truly felt incredible wrapped around her. When her logical side started in with its rational reasons why she shouldn’t have anything to do with this guy, she blocked the thoughts.

If only in this moment, she’d let herself enjoy the sensation of a warm body against her. She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers grazing his hairline, and he smiled at her.

Together they swayed to the music, Neil’s pace easily matched, intensifying the NIN song.

“I love
Pretty Hate Machine
,” Neil said.

“It’s a very sexy rhythm.” Her voice was thick, either from the vodka or the intensity of this man. Probably a bit of both.

“Only when dancing with the sexiest girl at the party,” he whispered, his breath grazing her earlobe.

Her cheeks flamed bright red as his words sunk in. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had called her sexy.

“I saw you come in, and I had to know you,” he whispered. “I was pulled.” He tightened her against him, their bodies pressed together, his erection rubbing in the right places. The sensation made her wet, and she wanted to feel everything.

No, do not do this! This is your day of mourning!
Her rational brain screamed at her. Every hormone in her protested as he continued to touch her. Neil’s hand ran down her waist, caressing the small of her back, his fingers spreading down just over the top curve of her ass.

She shuddered in his arms. The heat of him made her lightheaded. Good Lord, who was this man that made these incredible sensations pool in her core so easily? How could he have such an effect on her? And why was she submitting to it so easily?

Why did it have to be today? Tonight? Why couldn’t it have been tomorrow, next week, last week, something?

Not tonight.

This was something she could never have. She wasn’t supposed to feel this kind of sensation, this kind of want and need. Her soul had died three years ago. She didn’t deserve to feel this now. Not after what she’d done.

She tensed in his arms.

“Marissa?” he whispered in her ear; just saying her name was enough to send warm spasms of desire through her body. She forced the sensations down. She wasn’t allowed to feel this way.

“I…” She pulled away from him. “I can’t,” she whispered, torn up from the inside between her warring desire and logic.

Neil still kept his hands on her hips, though she’d pulled away from his warm body, a harder prospect than she’d ever thought. His eyebrow arched, his green eyes studying her. “What? You can’t dance?”

“I… I need some air,” she said, adjusting her glasses. Letting go of him, she darted through the crowd to the sliding glass door and the back yard where the air was clear and the moonlight bright.

She needed to clear her head.

Chapter 3

Neil stared at the empty space Marissa left behind, his body fighting the urge to go after her.

His instincts screamed he needed to go out there, to touch her again. The fire that had poured through him when he’d first seen Marissa still throbbed in him, and touching her, smelling her scent, he could almost taste her essence. He wanted to pull off her little cat-eye glasses and see into her soul.

And he knew.

He knew her. Though he didn’t know why.

He understood what this was, though. His brothers had told him about it; the fire that burned the first time he would be exposed to the one. They all said when they’d met their mates, their bodies had burned and scalded in ways they hadn’t understood. All they’d known was that they had to have them.

And he knew Marissa burned for him, as well. He could smell it on her, that floral scent mixed with desire; it wafted up from her, filled his nostrils. He would forever be stained with that scent.

No other woman would ever smell as sweet to him. Another scent blended with the floral, the scent of death, a stain on her soul, and he desperately wanted to erase it from her being.

What could blacken a beauty like Marissa’s soul so completely?

Neil sipped on his punch, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of needing to be outside with her to protect her, because that’s what his kind did. They protected their mates.

In the last month, he’d been searching for his. He’d seen her in a dream, and he knew her, the feel of her, the smell. Dream visions weren’t like real dreams, and they weren’t common among his kind, but they did happen. Some claimed the dream visions weren’t dreams at all, but real impressions that happened during the change. Things they couldn’t remember.

Marissa was the first to stir him as much as the dream had. Even without the dream, he could imagine her hand stroking his face, a caress of pure love and tenderness, something he hadn’t felt in years.

He set his glass on the table. Pushy or not, he had—no, he
needed
— to go after her and find a way to comfort her. To ease her pain. That’s what mates did. And he wasn’t changing his instincts for Marissa. She may not be his formal mate yet, but that didn’t matter.

She would be.

Neil made his decision—he would go outside. He ran one hand over his smoothed-back hair, when a new aroma met his nostrils.

The thick metallic scent of blood filled his senses. The hairs on his neck stood up, and the urge to growl overwhelmed him.

He started scanning the crowd, partially to find the scent, partially to find Dale. If his brother knew what had just entered this party, he would have a fit.

Surely Dale wasn’t friends with a vampire!

Across the room, Dale stood talking to his wife Kristy, his posture stiff, his eyes narrowed. He’d smelled it too.

“You smell it?” Neil asked when he reached Dale’s side.

Dale nodded. “I don’t know for sure who it is.”

“Well, who don’t you know?”

Kristy’s gaze roamed over the party. “Everyone here was on the guest list.” She reached up, putting her hands on Dale’s chest. “Should I call?”

“Call, and get them here fast.” Dale met his gaze. “We do not engage.”

“I won’t.”

Dale’s eyebrow went up.

“I am no longer a pup,” Neil said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Even Kristy’s stare wasn’t flattering. “I don’t want anything spilled on my carpet,” she said.

“It won’t be.”

Kristy pulled a cell phone out of… well, he wasn’t sure where she’d had that stashed, but she took the phone and headed down the narrow hall to make the call.

“Let’s find him,” Dale said.

“You sure it’s a he?” Neil asked.

Dale tipped his head to the side. “It’s a male. Find him.”

*

Marissa stood outside, the cool breeze whipping through her. It was a miracle that it wasn’t raining. It always rained on Halloween. She ran her fingers down the weathered wooden railing as she stepped down to the lower concrete patio, away from the smokers on the deck.

She stared at the sky, the clouds covering the almost-full moon. The air was electric, powerful energy swirled everywhere.

Perhaps that was why she’d been so mesmerized by Neil.

The outside air cleared her head a bit, and she didn’t feel so heady at the thought of him.

Who was she kidding? The man was incredibly hot, and it took all her restraint to keep from running in there and attacking him.

She didn’t dare, though. Not tonight.

Not on the anniversary.

Thoughts of her family and their loss sobered her, and almost squelched the desire she’d had for Neil.

Oh, why hadn’t they met some other time? Some time when she wasn’t dressed as a Slutty Librarian, at a Halloween party she didn’t want to attend anyway? Why couldn’t it have been a barbecue? Where people were dressed normally, when the sky wasn’t filled with a bright moon?

She let out a sigh as she walked to the edge of the patio, pointing her toes to play in the damp grass. She didn’t want to walk out on the soft ground; her stilettos would sink into the mud. Didn’t mean she couldn’t play with the grass though.

“Marissa?” came a voice behind her.

She spun around, thinking Neil had followed her.

Her eyes narrowed when she realized it wasn’t Neil, but Kirk, her ex-boyfriend. She hadn’t seen him at the party, but now she was glad she hadn’t. His face had grown gaunt since the last time she’d seen him. His costume was a hodge-podge mix, like he’d dressed to be a vampire that hadn’t seen a shower in weeks.

“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Kirk held up his hands. “Relax. I just want to talk.” He stepped toward her, within arm’s reach, and she stepped backwards, trying to both stay on the concrete and get away from Kirk.

“We said all we needed to say,” she told him. “It’s over. It’s been over.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He took another step forward, his eyes looking surreal in the moonlight, as if he were wearing white contacts or something. “You still love me, I still love you,” he continued, a familiar look on his face, one she’d know anywhere—the man was looking to fuck.

Even when they’d been dating, she’d known this was a bad look.

“Kirk, this isn’t about love, and you know it,” she said, trying to keep some space between them as she maneuvered around the patio, but with very little luck. And God, what was that smell? Had he cut himself shaving or something? She could smell blood on him.

Kirk kept her cornered. “I can’t breathe without you,” he pleaded. He moved closer, pinning her against the side of the house. Even though his face was pale, his lips were crimson, blood red, like he’d been sucking on a popsicle or playing in lipstick.

She wedged herself into the little corner where the house jutted out, her arms extended. “You seem to be breathing just fine without me,” she said, scanning around for escape.

“But I need you,” he said, reaching out and running his hand down her cheek.

Man, his hands were cold! “Kirk, get away from me!”

He didn’t move, except to get closer. “But Marissa, baby, I need you, I need to feel you, I need to touch all of you, to feel you beneath my skin.” His words, haunting and powerful, frightened Marissa more than just his proximity.

The lust in his eyes grew even darker, more primal than she’d ever seen it, and she’d seen some very strong versions of it.

“Well, I’m sure you told Claudia, Jennifer and Linda the same damn thing.” She held her arms up, trying to keep him back. She had to distract him, to get away. Every fiber in her being screamed that she needed to start moving
right this second
.

The feeling had nothing to do with Kirk’s adulterous nature.

And now, for some damnable reason, there were no smokers left on the deck; she was utterly alone with him.

“They meant nothing,” he waved his hand. “It’s you.”

Marissa shoved her hands against his chest, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he only moved closer. He grabbed her hand.

“Feel,” he said, pressing her hand against his crotch, “feel what you do to me.”

Marissa jerked her hand out of his, wiping her hand on her skirt as if she could wash away the sensation of touching him.

“Stop this,” she said. “You’re disgusting.”

Kirk’s face contorted and darkness and rage overtook him. “I wasn’t so disgusting a few months ago, was I?” he said, pressing up against her, his hand mauling at her breast.

“Kirk, no!” She tried to knee him in the crotch. He was too quick, though, and grabbed her leg, spreading her wide, and shoved his hips between hers. “Get off me!” she screamed, struggling against him. Though tall and thin, Kirk was wiry and rather strong, and he held her pinned against him.

How had he gotten so strong? He’d never been this powerful before.

He took her leg and wrapped it around him, the force tearing the hem in her skirt.

She tried kicking at him, trying to poke him with her stiletto, but it didn’t faze him. He barely seemed to register the fight in her.

“Oh, so you want it rough,” Kirk said, dry humping her so hard she cried out again and tears burned her cheeks.

“Please, Kirk,” she said. “Don’t do this.”

“You always loved what I did,” he snarled in her ear, biting at her throat. She fought as his tongue lapped over her bared skin. He didn’t break the skin, thank God, but it felt like he tried to.

“The lady said no,” came a voice from behind him, and suddenly Kirk flew through the air, landing a few feet away from her on the ground.

She stood frozen as Neil attacked him.

Like a crazed animal, Neil started pummeling Kirk, growling as he attacked. Kirk came up, throwing punches at Neil, but Neil was quicker, dodging each punch and landing his own, some in Kirk’s face, some in his side.

Kirk fought back with more strength than she’d ever suspected he possessed. He snarled at Neil, his own canines seeming huge and massive in the moonlight.

What the hell?

Neil lunged at Kirk, pummeling him. Marissa could barely keep up with who did what, even though Neil seemed to dominate the fight. The two men, in the heat of the fight, growled at each other, Neil’s a thunderous roar, and Kirk’s more of a hiss, like a cat. Neil landed a few more strong punches, accompanied by a kick, and Kirk lay on the ground, unmoving.

She ran up to Neil. “Stop,” she grabbed his arm.

Neil glared down at Kirk. “Ever touch her again, and I’ll kill you.” In a flash, the shifting of the moonlight changed in the back yard, and for a brief second, she swore she saw a long muzzle on Neil’s face as he snarled at Kirk.

Kirk laid there, hissing as blood came out his nose. “This isn’t over.”

Neil moved in a flash, punching him hard in the face, and with the punch came a crack of bone as Kirk’s nose broke. “Never come near her again!”

The back door slid open, and two men dressed like SWAT team members erupted out of the house.

“This him?” The one with blondish hair glanced at Neil

Neil nodded.

The second, this one with cropped dark hair, approached Kirk, leaning down to examine him. “He’s young.”

Dale and Kristy came out then, and a couple of party members joined them, but Kristy shooed them back inside, pulling the door shut.

The second man scooped up Kirk, and Kirk struggled against him, trying to jerk out of his arms.

“Don’t make me ash you,” the man growled.

Kirk spit in his face. The dark headed man blinked, and with a quick punch knocked Kirk out.

The first man rolled his eyes at his partner, then focused on Neil. “We need to talk.”

Dale and Neil accompanied the first man inside, while the second one hauled Kirk out of the backyard through the side gate.

Kristy put her arms around her. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink.”

As they headed inside, the blonde SWAT guy looked her over. “Do you know that guy?”

“He was my ex-boyfriend, though I hadn’t seen him in a few months.”

“We’ll need a statement from you later,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t want to press charges. He didn’t get very far.”

“This is not a police matter. Charges aren’t a choice. We will need a statement.” His eyes dug into hers, imploring her cooperation. Still, she really didn’t want to talk to police, or whoever this guy was, about what happened.

Neil glared at the guy. “She doesn’t want to talk about it.”

The man leveled his gaze on Neil. “Procedure. You know this.” He glanced back at her. “We’ll be contacting you in a few days.”

She nodded dumbly as Kristy led her into the house.