Winter's Kiss (13 page)

She gasped. “Two thousand years? A werewolf can live that long?”

He nodded. “I have never known of any living past one thousand though.”

“How old are you?”

Silence.

Did he really want to answer that? She hadn’t reacted too dramatically to the knowledge that he was a vampire, but that was probably because it had confirmed her worst fear—that creatures like him existed and she was becoming a werewolf. In that moment, she had been mostly concerned with what she was changing into rather than what he was.

“Well?” She turned on the saddle, looking up at him.

He stared straight ahead, between the horse’s ears towards the distance. The sky was beginning to lighten. Soon the dawn would force him to find shelter. He glanced back over his shoulder. He couldn’t sense anyone following them. They had kept off the ground most of the way. If Willem were looking for Nika, her scent would be difficult to track since she had only made contact with the ground in a few places along their journey.

If?

Of course Willem was looking for her. Winter smiled ruefully. If he had turned her and someone had taken her from him, he would have been searching for her too.

“Well?” She prompted again, this time sounding impatient.

“Over one thousand,” he said flatly, watching the distant sky paling and no longer concerned whether his age would frighten her.

“That’s old.”

“Relatively,” he said and geed on the horse when he saw an open field. He didn’t want the sun to catch him out in that when it rose.

“Relatively? Are there vampires older than you?” She seemed to have a never-ending list of questions and the fact they were mostly about him was a little surprising. He had expected her to be more curious about werewolves.

“My lord is over three times my age and many of the Watchmen are the same age as myself.”

“Watchmen?”

“The guards of my lord. I am a commander in the guard.”

“That sounds important,” she said and curled up against his chest again. “Winter?”

“Yes?” He snapped the reins and the horse trotted across the open field of snow.

“Will my senses be as sharp as yours when I’m older?”

“Perhaps.” He held her closer, fearing she would fall from the saddle as they broke into a canter. “When you are very old.”

“Tease.” She prodded his chest armour and then heaved a sigh. For a brief moment, he had thought she was feeling better again. He could understand the emotional rollercoaster that she was going through. A lot had happened in such a
short
space of time that she was bound to be having difficulties adjusting. He wasn’t helping. “Will the people we’re going to see really be able to help me?”

Winter thought long and hard about that. His instinct said to keep riding with her and never go to the werewolf stronghold. Something about handing her over to her own kin pained him, no matter how many times he told himself that it was for the best. It was going to hurt like hell when it came time to leave her. He held her closer but not tight enough that she would notice the change in him. He didn’t want to prompt her into trying to read him with her
new
senses. There was a chance that she would detect his confused feelings and conflict, and, right now, he needed her to see him as her pillar of strength, as the one she could rely on to protect her from Willem and the world. He needed to protect her. He owed her that.

“If my lord says so, they will. There is no one in the world who would dare go against him. I have heard of this place but only through the idle chatter of a werewolf and the history of other bloodlines.”

“Other bloodlines?” She looked up at him again. “More vampires?”

He nodded. “There are several different bloodlines in Europe, two of which are in this area.” He noticed her shiver and frowned. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” she said and tugged his cloak around her, sealing off the gap in it with her hands. He grasped her waist to steady her now that she wasn’t holding him for support. She looked up towards the moon as they entered another spur of forest. “Will I change soon?”

“I do not have the answer to that question. I know that older werewolves can change at will and are no longer bound by the moon’s sway, unless it is a particularly strong full moon. It may be some time before you can control the change.”

“I think I’ll change when the moon does.” Her voice was quiet and distant. “I hope I can control myself when I do. I’d like to run in the forest.”

He smiled at the way that she had sounded so confident and calm even when her body was trembling and fear had her heart racing. By then, he would be gone and wouldn’t be there to help her cope with changing for the first time. He hoped that whomever he entrusted her to would be able to ease the pain of the first change and reassure her. He wished it could be him.

It couldn’t.

Another wide-open field greeted them on the other side of the finger of trees. He urged the horse across it and glanced eastwards again. The sun was rising fast now, tinting the sky with pink and orange. The moon began to fade in the heavens.

“We must find shelter,” he said and looked around.

“What about there?” Nika pointed westwards.

A wooden barn stood on the edge of the forest. As he rode towards it, he assessed the way the sun would move around it and where the broken panels were. The walls had many holes, but he could block some of those using his cloak. Besides, it seemed to be his only option. The trees weren’t dense enough here to give any protection from the sun so he couldn’t risk riding on through the woods and he didn’t know how far it was to the werewolf stronghold. It was better to use this as shelter than risk not finding another before the sun rose completely.

He dismounted and helped Nika down. She hobbled towards the barn doors. One of them was hanging off the hinges. He followed Nika in, leading the horse. One of the doors knocked the horse’s hind leg. It bolted forward when it passed through the doors and snorted. Winter held it firm and whispered soothing words to it, stroking its nose.

“You’re good with animals.” Nika moved to the door and went to lift the broken side.

Winter tied the horse up and assisted her, jamming the door into place and plunging the barn into darkness. His eyes only took a moment to adjust to the dim light. There weren’t as many holes in the walls as he had thought there would be. He turned on the spot, tracking the path the sun would take so he could find the safest
place
to sleep.
The fading
night made it beckon him and he was too tired and hungry to resist.

He found a suitable corner and removed his cloak. North would be at his back and east at his side. The forest was behind him and spurred out to the south, offering some shade from the sun on the east side of the barn. There

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was a long tall wooden wall dividing this end of the barn and it would provide him protection from the south side of the barn. The dirt floor wasn’t going to be the most comfortable place to sleep.

A glance at Nika revealed she was scuffing the dirt with her boot, a frown on her face. Had she expected the barn to be full of straw as the stables had been? Winter had passed but spring showed no sign of coming. Snow had locked the land again, making travel to the distant towns for supplies dangerous. The farm would have used the resources stored here to feed the animals in the wintry weather. Now there was nothing. Not even a sign of the animals themselves. The frigid air stank of death.

“You should rest,” Winter said as he hooked his cloak up in the corner of the room, catching the thick material on the broken wood and nails that stuck out from the wall. He was careful not to tear it. It spread out from the corner of the room and reached the floor. Now he would be completely safe from the sun. The uneasy edge that had been filling him drifted away and the lure of sleep grew stronger. He blinked several times as his head became foggy and heavy. The sun broke the horizon.

Slumping into the corner, he closed his eyes and his head fell forwards. He would need to sleep light in case Willem caught up with them. His eyes opened when Nika knelt beside him, her knees brushing his thigh.

“What is the
matter?”

She toyed with her cloak and smiled nervously. He frowned
and
sat up, assessing her heartbeat
and
the flush of heat through her body, trying to discern what was wrong. Was she becoming sick again? Her heart beat erratically. Deep rose stained her cheeks.

His body jolted when her hand caught his and her fingers curled around to hold it, their tips brushing his palm.

“Kiss me, Winter, please?”

Winter leaned back into the barn wall, as though by doing so he could escape her question and pretend it had never happened. He shook his head, holding her gaze so she could see how sincere he was about this and how it made him feel.

It tore him apart inside.

“It will not bring the answer you are looking for,” he said, easily reading the true meaning of her words. She didn’t want him to kiss her. She wanted him to bite her. The thought of sinking his teeth into her and drinking her sweet warm blood, of feeling her body writhing against his in pleasure and hunger, made him harden. His growing erection pressed against his trousers and he shifted so she wouldn’t notice the effect her plea had on him and how close he was to surrendering to her request. “To bite you like that would kill, not turn you. There is no escaping the demon you have become. There is only death or the strength to face it and live. I cannot make you like me.”

She moved closer, her expression unwavering-determined and shy at the same time.

“I don’t want to die. I’m not asking you to try to make me a vampire.” She closed in on him, until her knees were against his hip and he could feel the lingering warmth of her breath in the chill air. He swallowed when she leaned over. Frozen to the spot, he stared blankly at her, unable to fight the hunger he could see in her eyes and felt reflected in him. Her voice lowered to a seductive whisper that stirred his desire and snapped his restraint thread by thread. “I want to feel what it would have been like to be yours.”

Her hands pressed into the dirt and she leaned towards him. His gaze fell to her mouth, to the soft tempting cherub’s lips that still promised sweet kisses. He wanted to lose himself in her, wanted to devour her completely and make her his, not just give her a fleeting impression of what it might have been like.

Her mouth neared his throat and then his ear, her cheek hovering so close to his that he could feel her warmth radiating into him. He swallowed again when her body brushed his, her arms tangled between his and his side.

“Give me this one time, as though none of this had ever happened and you could be with me,” she whispered into his ear. It sent a shudder through him, a wave of hunger so strong that it was impossible to ignore.

One moment.

It would be a million too few and one too many. It would
break
him.

Her cheek grazed his and he closed his eyes, weakened by her touch. His heart tightened and ached, broken by the knowledge that he wasn’t strong enough to resist her. He would give her this one moment of make believe, even though it broke his heart to agree and know that he would never be able to move past it and her. He wanted it but feared it too, feared eternity alone, knowing that he would never get over her.

“Please, Winter? I don’t want to—”

He cut her off with a kiss, swallowing the rest of her sentence as she murmured it into his mouth. Her mouth

was warm and soft as his tongue delved into it, brushing hers and eliciting a quiet trembling moan from her. She leaned forwards and tilted her head, clumsily moving her mouth against his, rough and hungry. He caught her shoulders and pushed her back a little. She broke the kiss
and
sat back, her cheeks blazing and her gaze fixed on her knees.

She had never kissed before.

The Devil what was he doing? He couldn’t do this to her or himself. It had been bad enough when he had thought she was experienced, but knowing she was so vastly untouched by man made him
shake
inside with the strength of his desire to protect her and keep her for himself.

“I’m sorry,” Nika mumbled into her knees, tears burning her eyes. Maybe she should have mentioned that she was new to all this. It had been too much to hope that she might be naturally good enough at kissing for him not to notice that it was her first one. When his tongue had entered her mouth, cold and demanding, the feelings it had evoked had overwhelmed her and she had lost control.

She heard him move and then closed her eyes when his hand caught her jaw, cradling it gently and raising her head. He had removed his gloves. His skin was cool against hers, strangely cold but comforting at the same time. It was Winter. This touch was how she would always remember him. He was so different to everyone she had ever known or would ever know. She loved him so much it hurt and no amount of time apart was going to change that. If he had to leave her, she at least wanted to know what it would have felt like to be his, to