Chapter Twenty-Six
There’s no doubt in my mind, I’m being hunted.
I shouldn’t have left the temple. Nor should I have left the temple alone. Despite remaining well within the city walls, I appear an easy target. Lost in thought, in heels, no visible weapon? It makes sense for a vampire to lurk in the shadows and observe.
Senses on edge, I turn, slowly, scanning the nooks and crannies of shadow and darkness on either side of the bridge. I also search the ends of the street on both sides of the bridge, hoping to catch sight of silver armor.
Nothing.
I’m truly alone.
And if I shout, will someone respond?
Demons wouldn’t.
Judging by the intensity of the scent on the breeze, the vampire is close. Nudging my innate awake, it shimmers in response, ready to ferry me back to the temple. But I pause. The shadows swirling underfoot vanish in an instant.
If this vampire has seen me, if this vampire has scented me, it has more than enough evidence to raise suspicion and send more to hunt. Kassil could be here tomorrow night if I do not capture this vampire now.
How in the hells would I capture a vampire?
I’ve seen it done numerous times during the Abyssal.
Remove wings, talons and fangs—the pieces capable of doing real damage. Then bind. In a week or two they will be so weakened with hunger they’ll wither. But where do I keep a vampire for two weeks? Certainly not the Moon Temple.
I breathe deep as I begin to spin through potential solutions.
The Lioness is out of the question.
I’m not doing that to Camille and Nicholas.
Heaving a sigh, I lower the shadowed barrier over the window in my mind. As they vanish, I reach out to Ryc without hesitation.
“Do you have a prison or some kind of containment cell in the castle?”
Amused intrigue trickles through our channel as he answers. “A concerning question, but yes. There’s an entire stronghold below. Where are—”
“I’m going to need it.” Sorry, Ryc, I don’t have time for banter.
Retreating the way I’d come at a hurried pace, I glance over my shoulder. The scent stinging my nose and eyes, burning my throat.
Movement faster than my cursed fae eyes can register streaks across the bridge toward me. I whirl.
Too late.
Stars explode in my vision, the air forced from my lungs as the cobblestone street finds my back. Strings snap, followed by the sound of crystals skittering across the stone. The weight on my chest threatens to crush my ribs, and I cry out.
My vision returns and I’m greeted with blood-red eyes set in a face inches from mine. She peers down at me, studying me with furrowed brows. As her eyes flick over me, her lips part in a wide, knowing grin revealing her pristine, glinting fangs.
Large fangs.
The kind meant for tearing apart prey.
“It’s dangerous to be out at night alone, fae,” she says in a low, smooth voice.
She runs her nose along mine, her black, tight curls brush against my cheeks.
Good gods, she’s strong.
But not a vampire lord.
I can contain her.
My innate rebukes in an explosion of shadows, launching the vampire back. My lungs expand with the sudden relief and I pull myself upright, kicking off my heels.
“Ves, where are you?” My name on his lips and the worry in his voice could bring me to my knees.
“I need a minute.” My response is short, clipped—all of my attention on the vampire laying still upon the ground.
She rolls over, laughing.
“The little fae has a bite,” she taunts as she lifts herself from the cobblestone. “But I bet it won’t feel as good as mine.”
She lunges, hands outstretched, and a wall of shadow shoots up between us, severing her hands from her wrists.
Her scream cuts through the night air, echoing along the buildings that line the river.
The wall of shadows vanish, and dark tendrils whip from my feet, wrapping themselves around her neck. She collapses to her knees, screaming.
“What is this?” Her voice is frantic as she clutches her arms to her chest. “Who are you?” The words turn into a pained sob.
I move toward her silently, my innate thrumming excitedly within my chest. It wants to feed. I clench my jaw with the effort to keep my shadows restrained.
Incapacitate, not kill.
The tendrils of shadow tighten, snapping her neck and she slumps forward.
Her body falling with a thick thud once again.
Keeping my distance, my shadows rip her wings from her back, launching them into the river.
Rolling her over, they pry open her mouth and two glinting fangs fly onto the stone, landing near my feet.
She’ll wake up in a few hours in dreadful pain—on this side of the veil.
Heaving a sigh, I rub my brow.
“I’m at the easternmost bridge near the edge of the Twilight Mire district.”
“Are you alright?” His worry is palpable and it buries itself in my chest.
“I was being hunted by a vampire. I have—”
Immediately, a blinding flash of white light causes me to recoil and cover my eyes. Lowering my hand, Ryc comes into view, approaching rather quickly.
I blink. Jaw agape.
He’s a light wielder.
I stare, barely breathing, at the beautiful, graceful, lethal creature several yards away. The fae bound to me is so wholly opposite of everything I am—why Nektos has decided for our paths to be entwined, I’ll never understand.
Shaking my head free of the thoughts, I force myself to breathe. And blink again. He sees the crumpled body lying less than five feet away, how my dress lies in ruin, me standing barefoot in a puddle of crimson blood.
In a moment that feels like an eternity stretching within a heartbeat, our eyes meet, and everything begins to feel right in the world. A strange contrast to how wrong the entire night has felt without him.
It’s him.
It’s always been him.
Somehow.
He shouts something, something I don’t quite understand. Fear streaking through those beautiful gold eyes.
The ground rushes to me, talons puncturing my shoulders with a steel grip and sharp pain. A pressure builds at the nape of my neck before there’s a tearing pop followed by white-hot agony. A glass-shattering scream tears from my throat, cut short as my cheek and my jaw meet the cobblestone.
Reeling from the blow, the pain in my neck subsides.
Only to be replaced with a firestorm of desire.
The weight on my back vanishes along with the talons and fangs embedded in my flesh. And I gasp for air, pushing myself to my hands and knees. Scrambling to my feet, Ryc tears the vampire’s head from his body, letting both fall to the ground.
I gape at the blood pooling at his feet, under his well-polished black dress shoes. Wide-eyed and trembling, I clutch at my neck as I step forward.
“No… no! What have you done?” I cry, panic and fear causing my voice to grow shrill. “You’ve sent him straight to Kassil!”
“Let him come,” Ryc growls, striding toward me, the expression on his face pure darkened anger. “Why are you out here alone?”
Shaking my head, I back away, dragging my feet over the cool stone, trying not to stumble. Not to fall. But the stone is slick with blood, and I lose balance.
In an instant, strong arms catch me, wrapping around my waist. I’m lifted upright before I meet the street for a third time.
Fucking light take me.
Being pressed against him is nothing short of tempting disaster.
Ryc is a wicked temptation, all wrapped up in a black silk button down shirt and well-tailored black pants.
The raw power and strength of his muscled body against mine turns my breathing ragged.
I stare at his chest, my fingers curled tight around his open jacket. I’m not brave enough to meet his stare.
But one thing is clear.
I need to get away from him.
Far, far away from him.
“You’re not immune to bloodlust?” The deep sound of his voice causes my stomach to tighten, fanning the fire.
He lifts my face to his by my chin, and through my lashes I peer at him.
“I’ve never been bitten,” I manage through clenched teeth.
Pushing aside some of my fallen hair from my shoulder, he reveals the bite on my neck. Webbing tendrils of venom pulse with my heartbeat under my skin, black against pale.
He huffs, shaking his head.
“Not immune it seems.” He grins.
The way I could stare at his grin all day is absurd.
My grip on rational thought is about to be swept away, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“I can help you with the venom,” he says, and I drag my eyes from his lips to meet his stare. “But you have to trust me.”
“Do. Not. Touch. Me,” I manage to grit out.
I want to step back, but my legs do not listen.
I want to ferry to the temple, but my innate is feeding into the desire.
Arching a brow, he smiles. “Can you control yourself, little demon?”
“Leave me and I’ll be fine.” I’ve lied a lot today, to others and to myself.
He laughs, a genuinely amused sound. It shoots right down my spine, and I shudder against it.
I’m struggling for my life against this sudden need and he’s fucking laughing.
No.
There are better things he can be doing with his mouth.
I want him moaning and begging for more beneath me—writhing for his own release.
Pressing myself against him, my hands slide up his chest, clasping around the back of his neck.
Drawing him to me, I raise myself on my toes, our lips brushing.
He remains frozen, his eyes fixed intensely on mine as his arms fold around me.
How easy it is to meld into him.
And how right it feels.
“You need to get away from me,” I warn, my voice not sounding like my own. It’s smokier, deeper—like the voices of the succubi.
My fingers curl into his hair, finding the midnight waves softer than I’d expected.
“Then you need to let me go, little demon,” he advises in cool, even tones, but his eyes—his eyes reflect his own desire.
“And if I don’t want to?” I ask softly.
His body tenses and I can’t help but find delight in his own struggle with this consuming lust. This venom has opened a door, and I’m going to waltz right through it. My right frame of mind turns to ash and is abandoned in a dark corner to be dealt with come sunrise.
The truth of the matter is, I don’t simply want Ryc.
I need him.
“Think this through,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine.
He closes his eyes, shuddering a sigh. The sound unraveling me in a way I didn’t know I could unravel. His grip on my hip tightens, pulling a small moan from me, and I let go.
“You belong to me,” I whisper. Forever and always.
I’ve lost.
I never stood a chance to start.
With undeniable need and ache, I kiss him. Self-control be damned. To my infernal surprise, and my utter pleasure, he returns the kiss with greater fervor. Whether his desire is his own or is easily influenced by what he feels through our channel, I doubt I will ever know.
Nor do I care.
Angling against my mouth, he urges it wider with his own, his tongue sweeping against mine. It’s nothing sweet or soft. It’s hard and overwhelming, claiming, possessing. A desperation borne of three centuries of wait.
It’s as if he wants to devour me.
And I would let him.
Nothing else matters in this moment.
No gods.
No councils.
No prophecies.
His hand travels down my side, over my hip, heightening the pulsing tension that has been building between my legs. I gasp in anticipation as his hand travels under me, pulling me against him roughly.
Everything.
I would give everything without second thought if it meant keeping Ryc right here, against me—his hands on my body, his lips against mine.
But I know myself and even if he gives me everything I want tonight, it won’t be enough.
It will never be enough.
A groan rumbles through me, his groan, and I suck in a sharp breath. He slides his mouth along my jaw and down my throat. His lips leave a raging storm of pleasure that unweaves everything I am. My eyes close as I arch against him, throwing my head back, offering him my neck.
His lips tenderly kiss upon the wound on my throat before his fangs pierce my skin. A gasping moan escapes me, sheer pleasure taking me in waves building too quickly, too intensely as I continue to press and grind myself against him.
As I ride out my reality-shaking climax, I hear Ryc’s voice.
“You’re going to destroy me, little demon.”
Lost in his embrace, drowning in waves of pleasure, nothing in the universe could ever matter as much as this. I want to remain here, in his arms, forever.
I want more of him, forever.
As Ryc finally lifts his head, darkness swallows me whole.
The last of the walls guarding my foolish little heart gives way and shatters.