A Midsummer Night's Demon (2 page)

Arms and legs struggled for supremacy as the two males wrestled on the cool concrete. Their bodies tumbled over each other in a bid for dominance. They rolled to a stop with Ky lying under the
debauchee
who unsheathed a gun holstered to his calf, then gave Ky a sanguine smile, the shiny barrel of the gun reflecting the sharp ends of his teeth.

Gripping the weapon with both hands, the rogue aimed for Ky’s heart. The warrior’s hands flew up, folding around the gun. Ky’s grip cranked down hard. The finger of one hand slipped behind the trigger to keep it from firing, while his other hand closed around the barrel. Strength would determine where the gun would aim. Their arms shook with their effort as the barrel slowly turned toward the rogue.

The vampire’s eyes widened, watching the weapon turn his way. Ky knew bullets, especially harmful to his kind, filled the magazine. He smelled the poisonous titanium that coated the ammunition within. The
debauchee
breathed hard from his effort to keep the gun pointed away; each inhale had to be a new experience in pain from his broken rib.

Ky’s finger slipped out from behind the trigger, allowing the gun to discharge with a deafening explosive shot.

The vampire’s body shook with the force of the blast, while the thunderous concussion echoed off the concrete walls. The bastard looked down, registering the spread of red over his shirt. Pain twisted his face. Though not a fatal wound, the injury would slow him.

The warrior ripped the gun from his opponent’s hands, and dug his heels into the floor. Using his powerful thighs, he bucked his opponent’s body, and sent the
debauchee
flying through the air to slam upright into a nearby wall. The concrete cocooned around his body sending little bits of the gray powder drifting to the floor.

In the blur of movement, Ky headed toward the monster. When he approached, the
debauchee
‘s leg shot out and connected with the gun in Ky‘s hand to send it skittering across the floor. Ky’s hand wrapped around his opponent’s throat, pinning the vampire against the wall. The agent pushed him up the rough wall, hoping the concrete would bite into the rogue’s back.

The vampire clawed at Ky’s arm to break the suffocating grip. His feet kicked against the wall, desperate to find a foothold so he could take the pressure from his throat. Ky’s iron grasp stopped his air, making his body jerk with the need for oxygen. The whites of his eyes turned red from bursting capillaries before his lids fluttered shut.

The rogue’s heart stuttered, his body fell limp, then before Ky’s eyes the listless form he held coalesced into itself, until only a wisp of black smoke remained. As it wafted through his empty fingers, he threw back his head, letting a roar of frustration escape from deep within his chest cavity. The sonorous sound reverberated off the concrete walls. The bastard had dematerialized! His fist punched into the concrete sending more ashen debris to the floor.

The sound of a soft moan behind him garnered his attention. Ky’s determined strides took him quickly to the injured woman. With gentle hands, he lowered her slumped body to the floor, turning her face so he could examine the wound.

He touched the skin around the gash on her neck and her eyes fluttered opened, wide with fright. Her drugged hand lazily smacked at his, as if trying to ward off an attack. He could smell her fear, knew only adrenaline kept her conscious.

He grasped her hand tenderly in his much larger one, stilling her trembling fingers as he leaned over her. “Shhh. He’s gone. I’m here to help you.”

She struggled to extract her hand. If she’d been at her full strength, she would not have been able to pull her hand from his unless he allowed it.

And he was surprised to discover he wasn’t about to let go. He wanted the connection. The moment he touched her something stirred within his heart, something drew him to her.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You can trust me.” He put a subtle compulsion behind his voice, letting it flow over her mind to ease her worry, leaving no doubt that he intended to assist her.

The ragged wound gaped open and her blood flowed in a steady stream down her chest. If he did not staunch the bleeding soon she could die from exsanguination. He couldn’t risk taking her to a hospital—the doctors would ask too many questions. A wound like that couldn’t be from anything other than a bite, and it wasn’t as if a lot of wild animals roamed the city. He realized it would be up to him to take care of her.

Ky gathered her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her shock-chilled body. His saliva contained coagulation properties which would aid to stop the bleeding, though would not heal so savage a wound.

He leaned down to lick her ruined neck. His tongue flicked over the wound, careful not to do anymore damage. The first lick spun his world. Her blood, unlike any other, tasted like sunshine. It warmed him to the core, made his body come alive in a way no blood had done before. His vision swam, tilting the parking garage. His body reacted, every cell screaming…

MINE!

His body responded to hers like a schoolboy holding his first crush. His muscles tightened, his hold became possessive as he lapped at the wound.

Most among his kind believed that each of them had one true mate—a heartmate. A person who completed them, the other half of their heart and soul. They recognized that person by the taste of their blood.

Ky now believed in heartmates. He would never get enough of her addictive flavor to sate his hunger.

Blood now gone, his tongue continued over the flesh of her neck to find the delicate spot where her shoulder met her neck on the opposite side of the wound. His tongue flicked across the vein. It beat in time with her heart, enticing him to sample just a bit more.

Desire flowed through his body at the thought. His inner beast rose to the surface, demanded another taste of its mate. Carnal need flowed through his veins unabated, sending a surge of wanton lust to heat his body. Saliva filled his mouth at the thought of more.

She was his. His to savor and to have. His to
protect
.

Like a slap to the face, the need to protect his heartmate sobered him from his baser needs, giving him the strength to rein in his inner beast, take back control. She needed him, his help, and he could do no other than see to her needs. He forced his fangs to recede, then gave her sweet neck a tender kiss before he forced himself away.

Surprised to find her looking at him through leaden, half-opened eyes, he pushed into her mind to glean her thoughts. Despite her pain, she found comfort in his arms. She thought of him as an angel come to save her and take away her pain
.

If she only knew.

He was more killer than savior. More devil than angel. He lived a dark life, but finding his heartmate made him want to become better.

Ky adjusted her on his lap, and looked deeply into her mahogany eyes, holding her gaze to his. “Tell me your name, honey.”

Her beautiful eyes drifted shut as she whispered, “Lyn.”

He lifted the unconscious woman into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. Her head lulled against his shoulder, her lips resting over the pulse in his neck. The heady sensation compelled him to get his mate to safety before the vampire could return.

He carried her to his car, secured her in the passenger seat, and drove them as fast as he dared to the dock where his boat waited. The ride across the river to his private island was rough due to an impending storm, but they arrived safe if not a bit shaken. Ky gathered Lyn in his arms and made his way toward his home with quick strides. He reached the porch just as the heavy clouds let go. The downpour beat a pounding rhythm on the palm fronds as he carried her into his house.

Chapter Two

Ky pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and took a deep breath of warm April air. He surveyed the island he’d bought years ago. At a half mile wide and just under a mile long, the land sat in the middle of a river. Ky had built his home in the center, leaving the natural pines, scrub palmetto, and palms as a barrier to the outside world. Tonight he found himself more thankful than ever for that cover, for inside lay his heartmate.

Lyn.

He had detected a slight accent, present in the lilt of her voice when she had told him her name. Her name. That was all he knew about her. That one syllable. Well that, and he knew she belonged to him, he recognized it deep within his very soul. He’d felt an instant connection when he’d tasted her blood. He had no doubt the fates created her for him.

Unfortunately, she happened to be a demon. Not only did her kind think vampires mythological creatures, but her natural inclination would be to shun him once she discovered what he was. He would have to play this carefully—be sure not to scare her away. It would not be easy.

Everything within called for him to take his mate. Love her. Make her his in the most primal way. His need already rode him hard, and he had spent less than twenty-four hours in her presence. Ky moved forward through the palmettos, putting more distance between him and his temptation.

The stroll helped to ease the physical symptoms of his desire, but his mind refused to give him respite. It continued to torment him with visions of her, playing them over and over like a record skipping on a turntable. The first time he saw her beautiful face. The image of her slumped in the parking garage. The way she looked up at him with trust in her eyes before she whispered her name.

He inhaled a deep breath and forced his attention out to the river to distract himself. People rarely cruised the river at night, which made things usually still and peaceful.

Tonight was no different. All seemed quiet, but with a mate to protect, he didn’t want to take any chances. He sent his senses flowing through the palms and pines, out over the water, in search of any sign of trouble. Finding only the energy of his mate, the occasional splash of an alligator and call of a bird, he turned back to his home.

To her.

His shoeless feet sank into the sandy soil, the grains crept between his toes with each step back to his home. The house, small by most standards, contained a living room, kitchen, a couple of baths, and two bedrooms. More like a bungalow. It suited him. A quick swipe of his feet on the door mat, he pushed through the front door.

The relaxing combination of chamomile and jasmine hit him once inside and comforted him. His nostrils flared taking Lyn’s scent deep within his lungs, letting it brand on the inside.

Ky made his way through the house, stopping to hit the remote that opened the shutters to allow the light of the moon into the home. The shutters were ingenious really. Marketed as hurricane shutters, they had been invented by a vampire, not only to protect against hurricanes, but against the deadly rays of the sun as well.

Ky padded down the hall toward his mate. Pushing open the door to her room, the sight greeting him made his heart pound in his chest. Lyn lay on his bed, her dark hair fanned out over the pillows, with the full moon casting its silvery light over her. One delicate hand lay palm up on her forehead, the other rested upon her stomach, moving slightly with each breath. The sheet had pulled to the side, exposing her lean leg. She still wore the dress from the previous night, but the material had pulled down giving him an unobstructed view of the side of one breast. Her ruby lips pursed in a small pout. Long black lashes lay still on her bronze cheeks. With her potent sexuality and demure curves, she resembled a Mayan goddess.

After turning on the light switch by the door, he crossed to her in three long, powerful strides to take a stray stand of her hair in his hand. He savored the feel of its silky glide over the pads of his fingers as he tucked it behind her ear. Lyn stirred, turning into his touch. Ky froze, his breath hitching in his lungs as her soft lips touched his hand.

Those lips.

A man could get lost in those lips, in her kiss. They were the devil’s temptation. The image of them wrapped around his flesh, giving him immeasurable pleasure, flooded his mind, and sent a rush of desire to heat his blood.

He shook his head to stop the direction of his thoughts before they drove his inner beast over the edge. He barely had control around her as it was.

The usually unflappable agent pulled his hand away as if her lips had burned him. Ky straightened the sheet, covering the sinful temptation of her flesh, to help give him some semblance of control.

“Lyn,” he breathed, so softly she did not stir. He cleared his throat. Taking a deep fortifying breath, he tried again. Louder this time. “Lyn, honey. You need to wake up.”

****

Lyn struggled through the sleepy haze. An unnatural lethargy weighed on her limbs. Someone had said something. Wanted something. Her mind struggled through the thick mental fog trying to remember what the voice commanded.
Wake up
. Someone wanted her to wake up.

She strained to open heavy lids. The pounding in her head drummed a harsh beat. Her dry mouth and scratchy throat made swallowing difficult. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking several times to bring the world into focus. Stretching gingerly, she manipulated her body part by part finding it sore, achy. Lyn scanned the room slowly, the movement hurt.

Through squinted eyes, she could make out the wooden dresser across from her bed, bare except for the small TV. Her gaze followed the beige wall behind to find a door. Peering inside, she could see a shower and small vanity. The harsh light emanating from the ceiling fan stabbed her sensitive eyes, making them tiny, watery slits.

“Good. You’re awake.”

She turned her head in the direction of the deep voice and rubbed her eyes with her palms in an attempt to force them to work properly. She blinked at the blurry image standing next to her to bring him into focus. Did she know him? He seemed familiar—yet not.

The sight of him took all the suffering from her thoughts. She stared into the face of a dark angel with coal-black hair and a warrior’s face that could have been sculpted by God himself. She found him a handsome man, his face full but not heavy, with no deep hollows or uncompromising angles, but instead soft lines that blended naturally to form his features. His eyes were the lightest blue she’d ever seen, almost abnormally so.