02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn (12 page)

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Authors: Lindsay J Pryor

BOOK: 02 Blood Roses - Blackthorn
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That suicidal.

But he slid his hand between her legs and pushed her knickers aside, his cool fingers making her stomach jolt as they brushed the throbbing sensitivity between her legs.

He interlinked the fingers of one hand with hers, gazed deep into her eyes – eyes she knew were betraying every emotion she was battling. She knew he was looking for clues, looking for responses, the fact he was so attentive to her only adding to her arousal.

As the tip of his erection melded into her, she bit back a breath.

What she was considering doing wasn’t only stupidly dangerous; she was breaking every rule – her consent beyond justification, beyond redemption.

Giving in meant no going back. It was irresponsible. The consequences unforgivable.

Her body instantly tightened the way it always did – an instinctive reaction to the intimacy she had always and would always deny herself. And she despised it. She’d always despised it. Despised how her body’s automatic resistance made her feel: frigid, useless, defunct.

But for once she was grateful for it. She wanted to see the look in his eyes when he realised how wrong he had been in his judgement of her – when he had the physical proof that she’d not yet liberated the serryn inside her.

Then come dawn, when she’d proven him wrong about the holding spell too, he’d have to let her go.

And something inside her suppressed the warnings – something that wanted this more.

Something that wanted
him
more.

Immersed in the moment, captivated by eyes that filled her with calm in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible, his self-assurance counterbalancing her uncertainty, it seemed worth the risk.

‘Go ahead,’ she said. ‘Do it. And then bite. And when your brother comes up here to check on you, I’ll have him too.’

As his eyes narrowed slightly at the threat, her heart thudded painfully. The intensity in them, the firmness of his touch pulsating through her skin making every nerve ending tingle.

As he eased inside her a little further, she involuntarily flinched.

The others had sensed it, and they had stopped. She’d always tried to hide it, tried to ignore it, but whenever it came to that intimacy, she could never give herself enough to relax.

Because no matter how much she wanted to be like everyone else, she knew she never could be, so fearful was she of what it could potentially unleash. Sometimes she’d sob afterwards – resentful and frustrated at the curse she either controlled or instead controlled her. Sex meant only one thing – the slippery slope to a life she could neither advocate nor tolerate – the trigger to uncaging her serryn nature. Sex for her could never be about the pleasure of love, about a future. She could never have the future others had. And it was unfair to make anyone she came to care about think otherwise.

The others had sensed that tension and had withdrawn.

But seemingly Caleb had no concern about that.

Seemingly Caleb was going to persist no matter what. He was going to overcome her reluctance and conquer it. And maybe that’s what made the difference. Maybe the others had been too kind, too compassionate, because the way her body was reacting to his insistence seemed terrifying confirmation enough that he was evoking something – something that stopped her caring of the consequences.

Consequences that could mean unleashing something as dark and dangerous and lethal as him.

But Caleb didn’t seem to care about that, either.

And right then, neither did she.

She breathed heavily, intoxicated by the sensation of him breaking inside her inch by inch, quaking under the alien feel of him inside her. She gazed back at him, perfectly still, waiting to see if he’d know and what he would dare to do next.

And as his gaze snapped to hers, her pulse raced as those entrancing green eyes narrowed then flared slightly.

Eyes that told her he had sensed it.

She should have felt relief at his withdrawal, but instead she astounded herself as she ached in reluctant disappointment.

But she snapped back a breath when he withdrew only to push himself back inside her again – slow, controlled, but more forceful.

He pushed her thighs further apart, wrapped his arm around the small of her back to tilt her hips towards him.

She breathed steadily to calm herself, her hands clutching his. She cursed silently as he persisted until her body became more willing.

And it was the willing that stunned her – his perseverance intoxicating.

She shuddered, her escalating arousal finally allowing him to penetrate her more deeply, until, with a final thrust, he filled her to the hilt.

❄ ❄ ❄

It seemed Jake had been right to look at him the way he had down in the office – to fear losing him again to the darkness. He wasn’t in his right mind when that took over. The acts he had committed proved that. Depravity, cruelty and brutality came hand in hand with who he once was. And it had been a battle to overcome it.

And in many ways he had. But clearly not enough. Because any iota of decency would have forced him to pull back when he’d felt it.

The witch had been telling the truth: she was inactive.

He should have pulled away. Especially when, instead of a look of hatred, those glossy eyes were laced with desire.

No serryn had looked at him like that. No serryn was ever capable of looking at a vampire like that.

But instead of tempering his actions, he had been fuelled by the need to consume her. Those enticing eyes, her parted lips, her ragged breaths had only incited him further.

She’d felt too good, her tightness becoming slicker as he’d persisted, the tension rippling through his own body. And as he’d felt her start to relax, her breathing finding its own rhythm, it had almost been too much.

Eyes that had stared back at him should have made the most of his moment of weakness, his approaching climax, and drawn him in to bite. Instead they’d remained uncharacteristically submissive as he’d pushed both her wrists together, restrained them above her head, her baited breath inciting a dormant rush in him as she’d trembled under his grasp. And he’d made the most of the moment – where her body was craving him too much for her mind to take hold.

He’d tried to release her wrists. He’d tried to force his hands to uncoil from them, but he’d involuntarily clung to her like static. It was as if somehow she’d been holding him there despite his instinct to retreat.

Something in him had stirred. Something that made him more than just uneasy. Something that tore at his pride, his self-assurance, his resolve. Something deep within, something dangerously unsettling, told him she was already challenging the very things that defined who he was.

By unleashing her darkness, he was unleashing his own. Only this was a more lethal darkness than he had ever encountered before.

It was supposed to have been about proving she was no different, but she
was
different.

This serryn, in the short few hours she had been there, was already evoking him to bite.

The warmth of her skin, the pulse beneath that tender flesh, the feel of her soft, pliable body…

She was a witch of the highest calibre; a serryn with phenomenal potential based on how quickly he’d responded to her. The way his heart beat too hard, the ache from his pending climax – one he knew was going to be more powerful and intense than he’d had in a long time.

He gripped her wrists tighter.

He needed to taste her.

And as he pressed his lips to her throat, felt his incisors extend in preparation, her soft, warm body, her relenting to him, only escalated his need.

❄ ❄ ❄

Terror flooded through her. If the serryn was going to surface, it was then.

She had to fight it. She had to fight it with all her will. Now was the time to beg him to stop. Now was the time to fight him as he nudged her head to the side, making access to the artery there as easy as it could be.

In that split second, if he chose to bite her, he would. And, more terrifying, in that split second, she wanted nothing more. To be that close to him – that intimate with him. As close as she could get.

As he thrust into her again, she clenched her fists, her climax awakening too quickly for her to control.

His last thrust was direct, powerful.

Leila cried out, arched her back, her voice echoing around the library. The sensations entwining through her body overwhelmed her, encapsulated her. She trembled as her climax consumed her, wiped her mind, every nerve, every sinew of muscle numbing from fingers to toes as she was trapped somewhere unknown for the passing moments, her whole body in pleasurable pain as she came.

She shuddered with her release, her climax offsetting his, Caleb coming inside her with a force that made him jolt and gasp.

He withdrew immediately, leaving her body cold with perspiration, her mind numb, so wrapped in her own orgasm that she forgot to be grateful they were both still alive.

Chapter Eleven

L
eila remained on the edge of the seat, clutching the arms of the chair, the air prickling her skin.

It was nothing like she’d imagined. It had been so simple. So uncomplicated. So shockingly easy. It was as if something in her had snapped. Or something had shut down.

It was as if she’d been in a haze – a haze where she knew everything that was happening. It was as if all those mental blocks that had stopped her before, for some inexplicable reason, just didn’t matter.

At the very least, she thought she’d feel different. She thought something would have been triggered – the darkness that had terrified her for so long. But there was nothing – nothing but a deep sense of satiation and completion. She may not have felt different, but she had to accept that something was clearly happening. It must be, for her to have consented like that. The transformation had to have begun simply by being in his presence, by being there in Blackthorn. Maybe the transformation was just slower than she thought.

The reality of how disastrous it could have been hit her hard and fast.

She looked up at Caleb as he stood a couple of feet away from her, side-on as he refastened his jeans.

Caleb who had taken her fear and anxiety and effortlessly overcome them within minutes – the very thing she believed impossible, not least with a vampire. Thoughts of how he’d made her feel still raced through her. The intoxicating thrill of his touch – a touch that still lingered pleasurably on her skin. An unfamiliar ache still throbbing within her. She wondered if it was what all vampires were capable of – if that was the allure Alisha saw, that others saw. Or she wondered if it was just Caleb. If he was capable of making anyone feel like that.

But it was clearly something he was void of feeling in return, from the way he straightened himself out as if merely redressing after a shower. Never had it been clearer how good he was at what he did. This was his job – she was his job. And his detachment proved it. It had been nothing more than an act to show her he wasn’t just in charge physically, but emotionally. He had set out to prove a point and he had done so.

And she was unforgivably gazing up at him like a schoolgirl with a crush on a rock star.

Anger she should have directed at Caleb, she directed at herself. Anger at letting him mark her in the most defiling way possible. Because that was how she felt – defiled. Used by a master craftsman for whom seduction was as easy and routine as dressing himself in the morning.

The only things she thought she was any good at – self-control and despising vampires – and she’d failed miserably and unforgivably at both.

She dropped her gaze to the floor, knowing any look of smug triumph on his face, in his eyes, would have broken her. Instead of redeeming herself, she had proved herself to be exactly what he accused her of being.

He had been right – she could only contain it for so long.

‘There’s no need to look so traumatised,’ he said, breaking the silence.

She glanced up at him warily, embarrassment limiting her gaze. ‘That shouldn’t have happened.’

‘It’s a bit late for that kind of resolve.’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘The moon hasn’t fallen out of the sky, there hasn’t been an earthquake, bolts of fire aren’t consuming the earth. It’s hardly a global disaster.’

His nonchalance, whether intentional or not, struck her deep.

He turned away from her and strolled over to the fire. He threw a couple more logs onto the embers. He was mulling over something as he stared at the logs crackling and spitting on the reigniting fire. Something that kept his head lowered, his arms braced on the mantelpiece.

She wondered if he, too, realised how dangerously close they had been. Maybe he’d been as caught up in the moment as she had, and now reality was striking him, too.

As Caleb reached for his cigarettes on the mantelpiece and lit one, she stood from her seat and hovered awkwardly.

‘This has to end now, Caleb. You have to let me go.’ When he didn’t acknowledge her, she took a few wary steps towards him. ‘I mean it, Caleb. The longer you keep me here, the more at risk we all are. You have to see that now.’

‘I must admit, I didn’t expect you to give it up quite so easy.’ He exhaled a curt stream of smoke as he looked across his shoulder at her. ‘Not after all your proclamations.’

She felt a pang somewhere deep. ‘Do you have to put it so coldly?’

‘How else would you like me to put it?’

She could see the anger in his eyes, the resentment, and she hated to admit the fact that it hurt her as much as it frightened her. ‘Trust me – you’re not half as surprised as me.’

He inhaled before bracing both arms on the mantelpiece again.

Her throat tightened. ‘You’re angry with me. Why?’

He glanced across at her again, his eyes dark despite the resurging fire.

She took a step towards him. ‘You instigated it. Not me.’

‘I seem to remember you telling me to bite. I seem to remember you threatening my brother.’

‘In the heat of the moment. I was angry.’ She frowned and took another step towards him. ‘Don’t you dare blame me for this! Do not twist this to your own ends.’

‘How? By saying it as it is?’

‘That’s
not
how it was.’

‘No, because I’m covered with scratches and bruises from you trying to fend me off.’

She stared at him aghast, irritation coiling in her chest. ‘So it
was
a test?’

‘Like you didn’t know.’

‘And I failed, right? You set me up and now I’m to blame for the fallout? I can’t win, can I? Damned if I do and damned if I don’t.’

He turned to face her. He inhaled again before dropping his cigarette-holding hand to his side. ‘Playing the martyr doesn’t suit you, Leila.’

It was the first time he’d used her name. It disarmed her for a moment, falling too enticingly from his lips. ‘Maybe not, but playing the complete and utter bastard clearly suits you.’

His smile was fleeting. ‘Now that’s the serryn fighting spirit I’m used to.’

‘My anger is nothing to do with being a serryn! It’s because I’m being held hostage in the middle of Blackthorn by a murderous vampire who is clearly void of any principles!’

His lips curling into a hint of a smile infuriated her further. ‘Void of any principles?’

‘Don’t smirk at me,’ she warned. ‘I have proved myself to you. You know what I’ve been saying is true.’

‘Because you spread your legs for the first vampire who showed you some attention?’

She exhaled in curt disbelief as she shook her head.

‘Did you think I’d stop?’ he asked. ‘Usually I would have. Virgins really aren’t my thing. They’re right up there with my biggest turn-offs. But at least now you can see that proclaimed self-control isn’t quite as tightly packaged as you like to think.’

‘That’s not how it was.’

‘No? The evidence from our playtime begs to differ. You’re not going to pretend you didn’t enjoy it, are you? Only the outcome would make that lie somewhat transparent. You can’t hide the obvious, fledgling – even behind such vehement words.’

She narrowed her eyes, fury simmering deep. ‘You arrogant, conceited, smug…’

‘For every hour you’re here, you’re going to come undone bit by bit. And it’s already started. Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s the way you’re wired. It’s what I’ve been telling you. Well done for being able to say no to all those nice human boys all these years, but the only males that will ever turn you on are the ones you’re made to kill. Don’t worry, it’ll get easier now you’ve given yourself to me once – now you’ve seen how easy it is, how there’s nothing to it.’

He eased back into his chair, smoke lingering in the air around him.

Something in her snapped. Never had she felt anger boil inside her so ferociously. She trembled, rooted to the spot. The tightness in her chest was painful, the clench at the back of her throat the only thing holding back furious tears.

‘I did what I was asked to do,’ she said, suppressing her fury with every bit of energy she had left. ‘What I was told to do. I never wanted to come here. I never wanted to go anywhere near any one of your kind.’

‘So what do you want? My sympathy?’

‘Your sympathy’s the last thing I want.’

‘That’s a dangerous thing to say to a vampire, fledgling.’

‘As dangerous as you keeping me here? You could have bitten me tonight, do you not see that? Are you too arrogant to see that?’

She turned away, her arms folded, when a terrifying thought struck her. She spun to face him again, her hands falling loose to her sides.

‘You
were
tempted, weren’t you?’ she said. ‘That’s why you’re angry. You think this is down to me.’ She took another step towards him. ‘I warned you. And I will not be blamed for your weakness. I will not be your scapegoat, do you understand me? This is your mistake, Caleb – keeping me here when you should have let me go.’

‘Out onto the streets. Letting you loose in my territory. That’s really responsible.’

She exhaled in frustration. ‘I am not like them! I will not be like them! How many times have I got to say it before it sinks in? Why would I want to? Out there, trawling the streets, soliciting myself for a kill, letting vampires do whatever they want to me, not caring as long as it leads to their demise. Giving myself away night after night until there’s nothing left – losing my heart, my soul, my conscience. Addicted and helpless to my base instincts: murderous, deviant, unashamed. I’m more than that. I have a life and an entitlement to life. To choices. To my family. To self-respect and dignity. Why would I want to lose all that to be trapped here, forced to reside in Blackthorn away from all I know and love, deemed a feeder, banned from crossing back into Summerton? What sense does any of that make? But there is nothing I can say or do to make you believe me, so there’s no point even trying. You say I’m dogmatic but you’re impossible! You can’t see what’s right in front of you. But I guess a closed mind negates the need for open eyes, doesn’t it, Caleb? And everything about you is closed.’

She marched back over to the chair in front of the window before she was tempted to say anything more. Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her head.

She expected him to leave her there in the silence, lost in her own emptiness, but he stepped in front of her, tilted her head up so she was forced to look at him.

He turned his head to the side slightly to exhale a steady stream of smoke away from her. ‘Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t done a holding spell.’

She glowered at him in the silence.

‘You can’t, can you?’ he said, his narrowed eyes further darkening his vibrant green irises.

‘And give up my only leverage? The only thing keeping me and my sister alive? You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. You don’t believe anything I say.’

‘Do you blame me?’

‘No. I understand, okay? I may have always lived in the safe confines of Summerton, but I know enough about this place. I know our worlds have different rules. I know only the strong and the brutal and the powerful survive in this territory. I understand that you rule your dominion tightly and mercilessly because it’s the only way you can safeguard what you have. I understand that compassion doesn’t last in Blackthorn and, as you have nowhere else to go, you have no choice. I understand you despise me. You have to protect what is yours, and there is no greater threat to that than a serryn loose in your territory. But all I want is out of here. All I want is to go home with my sister and never come back.’

As he frowned, studied her pensively, a small fragment of hope ignited.

‘Keep me until dawn,’ she said. ‘If that’s what you need to do. But put me back in the dungeon.’

‘And give you time to breathe, you mean.’

‘The whole situation is going to combust if you don’t. We cannot be near each other. If you were tempted to bite, then we’re in trouble. I’m clearly too powerful for you. I know it grates on your masculinity, but it’s a fact.’

But Caleb’s gaze snapped over his shoulder almost as if he sensed someone was there even before the door opened.

Jake flicked on the light, and stepped into the room. His arms were tense by his sides, anxiety rife in his face, his troubled eyes fixed on Caleb as something unspoken passed between them.

The male who stepped in behind Jake was tall and smartly dressed in a tieless black suit, his long hair combed neatly from his head. He stood to the right, opening the doorway.

Caleb’s eyes narrowed coldly, his whole demeanour tensing.

Dread consumed Leila as a female stepped across the threshold, her cropped white-blonde hair shining in the artificial light – light that defined her stunning elfin features as her large icy-grey eyes locked directly on Caleb.

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