Burn the Night (24 page)

“Different scoring system? We going to twenty points instead of ten?”

“Better. If a hit is scored, the loser takes off an article of clothing.” My eyebrows jumped and my mouth fell open as I stared at him for a second. “Strip sparring?”

“You needed a distraction and a way to burn off some steam.” I gave a small chuckle and shook my head at him as I turned my jo¯ staff over in my hands, getting ready for his attack. “Grand Masters are rolling over in their graves right now.” With my feet planted on the mats, I clenched my muscles and tightened my grip on the red oak staff as Danaus closed the distance between us. His face was completely expressionless, and I could feel the calm sweeping through his mind and down through his body as he settled into total focus on knocking the absolute crap out of me. I, on the other hand, was a ball of energy waiting to explode. I could find no calm, no center of peace, as thoughts of the Daylight Coalition, Rowe, Cynnia, and the Soga clan all danced through my head.

The second he was within striking distance, Danaus pounded me with a flurry of hits I barely managed to block. The hunter was a blur of motion, aiming striking blows from the top of my head to the inside of my thighs as he searched methodically for an opening. The speed at which he came at me kept me on the defensive, but I didn’t back up an inch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of overpowering me with his speed and skill.

After more than five minutes of nearly nonstop blows, Danaus stepped back and wiped the sweat from his left temple. He wasn’t breathing heavily yet, but the flurry of strikes had taken its toll. I took the opening and launched my own attack with the jo¯ staff. He caught a strike aimed for his neck with his eskrima stick, but before I could sweep the staff down to knock his legs out from beneath him, he hit me with a punyo, slamming the end of one of the eskrima sticks in the dead center of my forehead.

Dazed, I stumbled backward a couple steps until I finally landed on my ass in the middle of my mat. With my left hand, I touched my forehead to find a steady trickle of blood starting to slide down to the bridge of my nose. I wiped away the blood as the wound quickly closed. I had a feeling I would have a bruise there for several more minutes. My thoughts were scattered and my head throbbed, making me wonder if he’d succeeded in cracking my skull.

“I want your shirt,” Danaus proclaimed.

Frowning, I put down my staff, pulled my black cotton T-shirt over my head and tossed it at him.

The hunter caught the shirt with one of the sticks in his hand and tossed it to the side of the room as if putting aside his prizes. I was beginning to wish I hadn’t bothered to take off my shoes. My focus wasn’t on the fight as it should have been, and I was going to lose quickly if I didn’t get centered.

Grabbing up my staff again, I rose to my feet with a push of my powers. I stuffed all my stray thoughts down into a ball in the pit of my stomach so my mind was finally clear. Before I had my feet properly set, Danaus came at me again with sticks flying. I beat them back, and actually managed to overpower him enough to forced him to take a step back. My usual vampire speed was returning as I focused on the fight before me. Danaus struck out with his right hand, and I easily blocked it, but it was a feint. He jabbed with his left hand, hoping to catch me in the middle of the chest. I twisted out of his reach, balancing most of my weight on my right foot. As he started to pull back from the missed blow, I once again swept down with my staff. This time the jo¯ staff hit its mark, slamming into the back of both of his legs. Danaus hit the mat flat on his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Grinning, I stood over him with the jo¯ staff pointed at his throat. “Shirt, please.”

“I’m still wearing my shoes and socks,” he patiently pointed out.

“And I said shirt. Now.”

I stepped backward, returning to my side of the sparring mat so he could sit up and pull his black T-shirt over his head. He tossed it to me and I caught it with one hand. Bringing it to my face, I pretended to take in a deep whiff. “Ahhh . . . I smell fear,” I said before tossing the shirt over to the side of the room.

Danaus gave a deep chuckle as he pushed to his feet again. A new feeling twisted in my stomach as I watched the play of muscles before me. His stomach was flat and lined with thick muscles, while his arms bulged as he flexed the muscles and took up position with the eskrima sticks. The shirt had been a mistake. I now had a new distraction, and this one wasn’t as easy to push away as it danced before my eyes. Damn it, I should have said shoes. I could only hope standing before him in a lacy red bra was having a similar effect, but I wasn’t willing to rely on it. Danaus had an unnerving focus when he wanted to win.

As we stepped back into the fight, I struggled to clear my mind so I could focus solely on the blur of eskrima sticks. As Danaus started to circle me, I thought I had an opening at last. I raised my jo¯ for an overhead blow, but he blocked it with one hand striking me with a redondo by whipping the free stick about to slam against the back of my head. My head jerked forward, but I had enough focus still to snap the end of my staff forward in hopes of catching him in the knee with the end. Unfortunately, he shifted out of the way in time and took a step back.

“Jeans,” he said, ignoring my attempts to strike when we were supposed to have already separated.

Temper and frustration rising, I threw my jo¯ staff down to the ground with a loud clatter while I unbuttoned and jerked off my pants. I threw them at Danaus and quickly picked up my staff. He had enough time to toss them over to where my shirt lay before I was attacking again. I was half naked and feeling more than a little vulnerable, but my temper was also flaring. Danaus and I were usually evenly matched in most of our sparing matches, but I was letting him take advantage of my distraction and losing to him in a most embarrassing fashion.

We exchanged strikes back and forth for several minutes, neither gaining the advantage over the other. I blocked one of his strikes with my staff, but his eskrima stick slid down the pole, smacking into my hand with enough force to bloody the knuckles. I didn’t release my jo¯.

Danaus took a step backward, lowering his guard. “Bra.”

“That doesn’t count as a strike! You didn’t mean to hit me!”

“A strike is a strike.”

“I’m not giving it to you.”

“I think you will,” he said with a narrowed gaze. He dropped the eskrima sticks and approached me. I backpedaled, but was unwilling to strike at him if he was unarmed. As he reached me, he grabbed my jo¯, pulled it out of my hands and dropped it on the ground. He wrapped his right hand around the back of my head, grasping a handful of hair as he pulled me roughly against him, locking his lips over mine. I didn’t hesitate, kissing him back with the same passion as my eyes fell shut. The fingers of his right hand tightened in my hair while his other hand cupped one of my breasts. His thumb brushed over the nipple, causing it to harden beneath the thin layer of lace.

I fought back an evil smile as I suddenly grasped both of his arms and swept my leg behind both of his, taking him to the ground. I landed on top of him, laughing. “I think that officially counts as a strike,” I announced with a smile. “Give me your pants.”

“I’m still wearing shoes and socks,” he pointed out with a smug smile.

I shrugged as I moved to straddle his lower hips. “I guess you’ll just have to lose them along with your pants.” Reaching down, I unfastened the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper before he grabbed me. He flipped me onto my back and came to kneel between my bent knees.

“I think that counts as—” he started to say, but I halted the words in his throat by rising up on my elbows and kissing him. I got the point—he wanted me to relax and stop second-guessing myself, but now I was ready to get down to business.

Shifting my weight to my left elbow, I reached up and ran my hand over his chest, loving the feel of his warm, smooth skin lightly laced with dark hairs. I deepened the kiss, tasting him, memorizing him the same way I did every time I made love to this man. I wanted him burned into my brain so there was no getting him out. I wanted him so deeply ingrained in me that I walked around with his scent wrapped through mine. A part of me still longed to have his blood filling my veins, but I refused to feed off him. I wanted Danaus to remain pure and untouched by my kind. He was to remain above the reach of the food chain.

Danaus reached behind me and with one hand unsnapped my bra. He quickly swept the bit of fabric aside so my breasts were free. My nipples brushed against his chest, teasing us both before he finally lowered his head and took one breast into his mouth. My head fell back and a low moan rolled from my throat as the first wave of delicious sensations slipped through me. My knees on either side of his hips tightened, holding him in place.

With my right hand, I slid my palm down his flat stomach and inside the waistband of his boxers.

The tips of my fingers teased across the head of his hardened member, causing it to jump at my touch while his hips jerked forward. I tried to slide lower so I could run my hand down his shaft, but Danaus caught me by the hips and held me in place. His mouth switched to the other breast, while his hands started to pull my panties down off my hips.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from me so he could completely pull off my red panties, leaving me lying completely naked before him. The hunter stared at me with dark hungry eyes. Putting his hands on my knees, he spread my legs apart, leaving me vulnerable and aching for his touch. His right hand slid down my knees along my inner thigh to settle between the sweet folds of flesh to touch my clitoris. My hips instantly rose off the mat as I jerked at his touch. His finger easily slid deep inside of me, earning him another moan before he slid it back out again.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I choked out when I could think clearly again.

“I guess you should take care of that,” he murmured, sliding his finger inside of me again to erase all thought. His hand left me and I prepared to move when his mouth settled over the same spot his hand had been only a second earlier. His tongue invaded me, pushing me past all rational thought as a part of me hovered on the edge of an orgasm, but I wasn’t willing to give in just yet. I wanted him panting and desperate as well.

Grabbing a fistful of hair, I pulled him up so he was nearly lying on top of me, and then I slammed him down on his back. I quickly climbed on him so I was facing his feet, allowing me to jerk down both his pants and boxers to his knees. He was partially trapped by his clothing, limiting his movement and leaving him at my mercy. I wrapped one hand around his hard penis and raised it up so that I could run my tongue along its long length. Danaus groaned and bucked beneath me, then clenched my hips with both of his hands as I carefully took the entire length of him in my mouth.

He grabbed me and pulled me backward so he could return his tongue to my clit while I sucked on his hard cock. My thoughts swam in a warm pool of pleasure, pulling me back toward the orgasm I had been fighting moments earlier. I was close, but I needed more.

Sensing my physical frustration, Danaus lowered his head and focused on kicking off his shoes. I gave his cock one final suck before letting it go. The hunter jerked off the last of his clothes in one quick motion then pulled me beneath him. He entered me in one thrust, causing me to scream in pleasure.

Foreplay was over. No more teasing. No more taunting or gentle touches. With his hands braced on either side of my head, Danaus pounded deep inside of me while I wrapped my legs around his waist, lifting my hips to meet each of his thrusts. After only a couple of minutes I was crying his name as the orgasm ripped through me like a hurricane pounding the shore. My body gripped him buried deep inside me, squeezing him tighter until he finally exploded as well, wringing a groan of pleasure from him before he finally collapsed on top of me, his body trembling.

We lay together in silence for several minutes with him still deep inside me. I listened to his breathing slowly even out while his heartbeat returned to its normal rhythm. To my surprise, Danaus started chuckling. I looked over at him, raising one eyebrow, but he only motioned toward the wall closest to me. I turned my head to see the private bedroom I used during the daylight hours.

“So close to a comfortable bed, and yet so far away,” he said wearily.

I snorted, looking back over at him. With my hand, I moved some hair from his face so he could see me clearly. “Yeah, but this was more fun.”

“True.”

“Besides, we had yet to properly christen this room,” I teased. To our mutual delight, we discovered that we both had a ravenous sexual appetite, and during the past few months we had taken the time to have sex in most of the rooms of the house as the moment struck us. For some reason, the sparring room had been left out until now. It proved to be far more comfortable than the kitchen, but still not as nice as my bed in my private chamber.

I smiled at him, letting my fingers run down his hard jaw to rest for a second on his chin. “Thank you,” I whispered. Between the sparring match and the sex, he had managed to distract my thoughts and in some strange way restore my confidence. He believed in the decisions that I was making and the direction I was heading. Danaus believed in me.

“We’ll get through this. Nick, Rowe, and all of them. I’m here with you. I’m here to stay,” he said, leaning his head down to press a kiss to my fingers. “I just ask that we use a bed next time. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Arching my back, I threw back my head and laughed. Danaus laughed as well, letting the sound bounce off the walls and fill the house, holding the darkness at bay.

Eighteen

A
nxiety clawed at Rowe. While he had never been particularly talkative during our journey east, he seemed to grow even quieter as we approached the edge of the city of Savannah. This was the Fire Starter’s domain, and during our recent time together, he had made no secret of his animosity for the nightwalker. With her alone lay all his frustration and rage regarding his attempts to free the naturi from our cage. I wondered whether he was truly capable of working with her in an effort to stop Aurora. Did his need to protect and save his own people outweigh his hatred for Mira? Doubt ate at me.