Chapter 9
“Are you going to hurt me?” The words were less than a whisper.
Hawke felt like she’d just stabbed him in the heart.
“Of course not. I just think we need to continue talking inside, where listening ears won’t hear us.
” Her heart was beating an uneven staccato, and he could smell her fear souring her natural sweet scent.
He tried to lighten the mood. “And because I can’t look at you anymore in that ridiculous outfit without thinking of Julia Roberts. Please, go change.”
She glanced down at herself, running her hands over her stomach and hips like she’d forgotten what she was wearing.
Hawke tried to swallow over the burning thirst in his throat.
He’d totally lied just now. He loved what she was wearing, or rather, what she wasn’t wearing.
Her legs were strong and curvy and looked like they were a mile long in those shorts, and the tops of her exposed breasts begged him to sink his fangs into the soft flesh.
In all honesty, it was a nice distraction.
Hawke was feeling a bit unsettled. He’d gotten out of Parasupe by the skin of his teeth.
Leaving the dragon shifter in his cell, he’d gotten back outside without raising any alarms. Then, distracted by the male and who or what he was to Everly, he’d very nearly run smack into one of the guards.
Changing direction from one breath to the next, he’d paused briefly to get his bearings and a camera had zeroed in on him, red light flashing in distress.
Multiple walkie-talkies had all gone off at the same time, and he’d realized he was surrounded by guards, though they hadn’t spotted him yet.
A second later, sirens went off inside the building and he heard multiple pairs of boots running his way.
Someone shouted orders. Keeping his head down and his face out of view, Hawke tossed the body parts and ran for his life.
When he reached his car, he drove south as far as he could and then pulled into a parking garage to wait out the day in the trunk.
When he awoke, he’d come straight here. Sitting in the parking lot of Everly’s building, he’d gotten on his phone and soon had a name for the owner of the apartments.
Lucky for him, the couple lived just a few streets away.
A quick visit and he had their invitation to enter any apartment he wanted.
However, he hadn’t been lying when he’d told Everly he would never do that. Not only was it rude, it was an invasion of her privacy.
Everly raised her eyes to his.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Everly. I just want to talk.”
She took a deep breath, the movement expanding her chest and pushing her breasts against her shirt. “Come on in.”
Hawke stood frozen as he was. He’d heard her invitation, and even though he could’ve waltzed inside any damn time he’d wanted to, the sound of the words coming out of her mouth was the beginning of something he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop.
Because since the first moment he’d seen her, Hawke felt as though he’d been hurtling through space and time, arms and legs flailing, trying desperately to stop the momentum that had brought him to this exact moment.
This wondrous moment.
He stepped over the threshold and was immediately bombarded with the colors and smells and sounds of everything that was Everly.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hawke watched her walk to the back of her apartment, immensely relieved he had a few minutes to compose himself. He heard her rustling around in some drawers, then heard the click and lock of a door.
Something rubbed against his legs. Looking down, he saw the cat he’d met the previous night had followed him inside. Hawke picked up the feline and set him gently on the small, round table just outside the door. Then he went back inside and closed the door behind him.
While Everly was getting changed, he wandered around the small space, too jacked up to sit.
A large, worn, L-shaped couch took up the entire wall left of the door.
It was covered in so many blankets and pillows that it was impossible to tell what color the sofa’s material was.
But if Hawke had to guess, he would say something dull like gray or brown.
Hence Everly’s need to brighten it up with a rainbow of colored accents.
To the right of the door across from the couch was a rickety stand with a small TV balanced on it.
Through a cutout in the wall in front of him, he could see the kitchen, too small for more than one person at a time to make use of.
Mismatched pots and pans hung from hooks in the ceiling above a counter covered in every type of modern cooking convenience being sold: a microwave, rice cooker, bread maker, and mixer.
But the dishes were clean and neatly stacked in the drying rack and the stovetop was wiped clean.
There was no dishwasher. There wasn’t room.
Everly returned to find him fingering a tapestry of the moon and stars hanging beside the window. She had changed into a pair of blue lounge pants and held a fuzzy purple sweater closed over her chest. Her hair was down and most of the makeup had been scrubbed from her face. “So, let’s talk.”
To hide the fact that her current outfit did nothing at all to make it easier to be around her, Hawke glanced around the room until his eyes landed on the couch. “Would you like to sit?” Then he could’ve kicked himself. He was treating her like a guest in her own home. “I’m sorry. This is your—”
“Yeah.” She went over to the smaller part of the “L” and sat, tucking her hands between her knees as she waited expectantly for him to join her.
Taking off his jacket, Hawke folded it so the blood was on the inside and laid it across the arm.
He chose a spot that wasn’t too crowded with pillows and sat down gingerly.
The couch was surprisingly comfortable. He leaned back, his muscles relaxing a bit, and rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs.
There was a good four feet between them, but she may as well be sitting on his lap for all the good it did.
Hawke tried to focus on the reason he’d rushed over, but now that he was here, confronted with the realness of this woman, the steam appeared to have dispersed.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
Her question. What question had that been? Ah, yes. “Only if you answer one of mine.”
She immediately agreed. “Deal.”
“Who is the male, Everly?”
She visibly started, the color draining from her face. Her spine straightened, and she set her expression to one of mild curiosity. “What male?”
“The one they’re holding at Parasupe.” He decided not to reveal just yet that he knew what the male was.
Perhaps she was aware of what he was. Perhaps she wasn’t.
He wasn’t about to give away his hand before she told him one way or the other.
“And before you decide what lie you’re about to tell me, can I make the suggestion that you not. Please.”
“He’s no one—”
Pain lanced through his jaw, he ground his teeth together so hard. “Everly…”
She looked away, refusing to listen to anything more. But then she took a deep breath and turned back to him. “How do you know about him?”
“Because I went there last night after you left the club.” He skipped the part of how he’d followed her home to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything stupid. And, yes, to see where she lived. So, he could see she was safe.
“You went to Parasupe?” A tangle of emotions emanated from her—confusion, hope, but mostly fear.
Fear for him? Fear for the man being kept prisoner? Or fear for what he’d found out? “Yeah, I did.”
She moved to the edge of the couch cushion, angling her body closer to Hawke.
It might have been an unconscious gesture, but he felt it in every cell of his body.
Her sweater fell open with her movement, and he noticed she wore a plain, white T-shirt or tank top beneath it.
“You saw him?” She anchored herself to the couch with her hands, fists clenched so tightly on either side of her hips her knuckles were white.
Hawke took in her reaction with a feeling of unease. “Yeah. I saw him.”
“He’s alive? Is he okay?”
He shrugged, watching her carefully. “As well as can be expected.” He paused, wondering how much to tell her.
If it were someone he cared about, he would want every last detail.
“He’s being held naked in a cell like a lab rat and it appears they might be starving him.
He’s dirty and emaciated. And he’s concerned about you. ”
Tears filled Everly’s eyes, darkening the bright gray to the chaos of storm clouds. She suddenly stood and paced away from the couch, keeping her back to him.
Hawke stood also. Without thinking, he laid a hand on the back of her arm.
Everly jumped and turned, startled eyes flying up to his face, and he felt a jolt of remorse for scaring her, even if it was accidental.
He held his hands up, palms out. “He’s alive.
But he’s not in good shape. Mentally or physically.
” The blast of her sorrow hit him so hard, his knees nearly buckled from the force of it.
“Who is he, Everly?” he demanded. “What is he to you?” Even as he spoke, he knew he had no right to the answers. He had no right to her at all.
But he wanted to. Desperately.
Everly pulled her sweater around herself and looked away, tight lines twisting the shape of her mouth.
Hawke’s blood rushed through his veins as he reached out a shaking hand and gently clasped her chin, turning her face until she had no choice but to look at him.
“Who. Is. He.” He didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear her say it.
But he needed to know. He could barely breathe as he waited for her answer.
Stormy eyes filled with pain rose up to meet his. “He’s my brother.”
Her brother. Not her lover.
His heart gave a hard thud in his chest, only to take off again as a surge of relief flooded his senses.
Still holding her chin, Hawke drew her toward him and pressed his lips to hers.
He didn’t think about what he was doing or if he should be doing it.
He was way past that. Emotions battled and tangled within him.
Relief, sorrow, excitement, gratitude, rage, need, passion.
His and hers combining into an overwhelming gale that battled the storm in her eyes.
Her brother.
Everly gripped his shoulders, the warmth of her hands seeping through the thin material of his shirt as he pressed her back over his arm, but she didn’t push him away.
He released her chin and slid his hand into her fiery curls. Soft. So soft. Her lips. Her hair. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Soft and warm and all female.
Her scent swirled in the air around him.
The rush of her blood filled his ears. She gasped for breath and he slid his tongue inside, denying her anything that wasn’t a part of him.
Her tongue touched his, tentatively at first, and then with more pressure until they were dueling for dominance of the kiss.
It wasn’t enough.
Hawke tore his mouth from hers, fangs aching to pierce her flesh, throat burning with thirst, needing more.
He rained kisses over her jaw and down her throat.
One hand remained tangled in her hair as the other pressed her hips into his.
He was so fucking hard. One fang skimmed along the tender layer of skin protecting the delicate veins of her throat.
A pulse of fear shot into him, crashing through the haze of lust, and without thinking he immediately stopped and straightened, pulling her up with him.
He took her face between his hands and dropped his forehead to hers as he fought for control of the monster within him, his body screaming for blood and release.
He should back away, put some distance between them, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just got a little overwhelmed. You’re so…so…”
Hawke raised his head so she could see his words.
Something he should have warned her about before things went this far.
He knew she had her suspicions, but she didn’t know.
“Vampire. I’m a vampire, Everly. And right now I want you so badly I don’t think I can stand to stay anywhere near you if you choose to deny me.
” No. He would have to leave if she didn’t want this.
It was the only way he’d be able to control himself.
“But I will leave, if that’s what you want. ”
“I don’t want you to go.” The words were frantic and taut with a mixture of chaotic emotions he could feel through to his bones. But her eyes were steady as they wandered over his face. His face that, right now, would scare most anyone else.
A low growl rumbled through the room and his upper lip rose in a semi-snarl, exposing his fangs, tasting her scent in the air.
Everly’s eyes dropped to his mouth and widened. Her heartbeat sped up. And the blood…gods, the blood. It sang through her veins, a song warmed by his kiss and his touch, and flooded his senses until there was nothing else but her.
Everly.