Darkness Burning (19 page)

Instead, Nicolas rolled the belt into a tight circle and pushed it inside her vagina.

Inanna moaned, but her cunt clasped the balled, warmed leather, holding it inside her.

Nicolas pushed two fingers behind the roll and pulled the buckle to unwind the belt, until it finally slipped free. With the leather slippery from her juices, he painted her thighs with quick, wet flicks before giving her one last sharp crack against her cunt.

He dropped the belt on the bed in front of her, then guided his cock to trail the crevice between her buttocks. He paused at her tight back entrance. “Shall I fuck you here,
Mistress
?” He slapped her with his penis.

Her buttocks squeezed, trapping the head of his cock, then releasing it as she widened her stance again. “
Please
,
Nico.
Fuck my ass,” she hissed.

Gathering his cock inside his fist, he held it against her tiny puckered hole and flexed his hips, pushing against her opening until it eased around the blunt tip of his cock.

Heat surrounded him, and he pumped inside, pushing past the ring that banded his cock, squeezing around him like the caress of a tiny mouth. Finally mounted, he began to stroke inside, tunneling deeper, closing his eyes to savor the clasping, pulsing sensations that engulfed him.

He speared deep, ignoring the shudders and whimpers that racked her slender body, concentrating instead on the pleasurable sensations that stoked a smoldering fire in his loins. Inanna didn’t provide him pleasure; any woman’s ass would have done.

His hands clutched her warm bottom, his fingers splaying and digging into her soft flesh to pull her buttocks apart so he could sink deeper. His hips pistoned hard and sharp, thrusting his cock into hot tissue while his balls banged her slippery cleft.

Inanna’s head sank further between her shoulders and she
rose on her toes, tilting her buttocks higher, inviting him to slam inside her body. She rocked on the balls of her feet, forward and back, countering his quickening motions, gasping and grunting with each of his forceful strokes.

It wasn’t enough. Not enough punishment. She enjoyed it too much.

Nicolas pulled out and stepped back, smiling mirthlessly when Inanna’s legs crumpled and she knelt, breathing hard beside the end of the bed.

He tore the scarves from her wrists and bent to lift her from the floor, tossing her into the middle of the bed. He leapt onto the mattress and stared down at her, letting his rage paint his features with heat, letting her see the glinting anger in his eyes.

Her gaze widened, and she scrambled backwards, trying to escape, but he planted a foot in the center of her belly to pin her. “Open your legs wide,
Mistress
.”

Inanna’s entire body quivered and her lips trembled, but she slowly unfolded her legs and opened them wide atop the plum and gold coverlet.

Nicolas reached for the long, scrolled finial at the end of one bedpost and pulled it free. He knelt quickly, lifting her thighs and pressing them forward until her knees met her chest. Then he placed the end of the finial between her folds and shoved it inside her vagina.

Inanna’s lips drew away from her teeth, her face tightening against the pain of the harsh invasion, then easing as he pulled it out and shoved it deep again. Her cunt sucked it inside, clasping moistly to hold it.

Nicolas cupped her buttocks, lifting them. He placed his thumbs on either side of her back entrance, stretching it open,
then leaned toward her, fitting his cock against her and pushing inside. With the wooden end of the finial snug against the top of his groin, he began to stroke into her again, ramming the finial into her cunt, and his cock deep inside her rectum.

Inanna keened, her hands clutching the backs of her thighs, her knuckles whitening as he hammered her. He drew his knees closer to her body, rolling her hips upward so that both entrances pointed toward the ceiling and he dropped his hips hard, slapping his groin against the slick saddle of her sex with each harsh thrust.

“Nicoooooo!” she screamed as her orgasm exploded, tightening her asshole around his dick, and cutting off his own release with her strong inner spasms. Nicolas shuddered, continuing to slam into her, while her cries grew hoarse, until at last the clasp of her inner muscles eased and cum jetted from his cock deep into her ass.

Nicolas fell over her, pressing her knees tighter against her chest while she gasped and shuddered beneath him, her screams dying away into noisy sobs.

Suddenly, he went still, his gaze slamming into hers as silence fell around them. “Inanna,” he said softly, “what have you done?”

Her gaze shuttered, her features tightened as wariness crept across them. “What do you mean? I wasn’t the one doing anything.”

Nicolas planted both fists into the mattress beside her shoulders and leaned closer, trapping her with his cock still embedded in her ass and the wooden dildo shoved deep against her womb. “As close as Pasqual has hovered around you these past few days, I expected him to burst through those doors at your
screams. Why didn’t he?” he asked softly, a clawing fear tightening every fiber of muscle in his body.

Her mouth opened, perhaps to tell him a lie, but his gaze stabbed, daring her to try.

Her shrug was a casual affectation. “He does what you will not bring yourself to do, lover.”

“What have you done?” he repeated between clenched teeth.

She licked her lips, then curved them in a little smile. “Pasqual is making a sweep. Gathering up the traitors who harbor the daywalker.”

Nicolas pulled slowly out of her body, his muscles quivering hard because he fought the temptation to shake her, to fly at her and rip open her throat. “What traitors?” he asked carefully.

“For a start…Simon.”

His breath caught. “You’ve made a mistake.”

“We don’t think so.” Inanna’s chin came up as she lowered her legs slowly and reached between them to pull out the finial. “And why would you care? You have said yourself he’s no longer your friend.”

“I would not have him harmed.”

“And he won’t be, if he cooperates. You know yourself that he protects the daywalker. All signs point to a powerful mage—he is the strongest on this continent.”

“And that didn’t give you a moment’s pause? Do you know what he can do to you? What his Order will do to you? They have always been neutral.”

Her lips twisted in an ugly snarl. “He crossed the line when he helped Natalie escape. You think I didn’t figure that out? And that Chessa helped her and the human? And now he aids
this abomination—this daywalker.”

Her expression turned remorseful, pleading—so quickly that it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “The secrets you’ve kept from me, Nico,” she whispered. “They make me weep. I had hoped you would see how dangerous your path is and that you would seek my help to make amends.”

Nicolas shook his head, disbelieving. “You conspired with Pasqual. Did you use my own Security Force?”

“Those who are resentful of the rogues you brought. They are with him now.”

Nicolas rolled from the bed, striding straight for the door. He had to warn Simon…and Alex.

“You won’t be allowed to leave. It is already too late.”

With his hand on the doorknob, Nicolas leaned his head against the door, calling himself a fool. He’d let her do this, manipulate his emotions to distract him. “You purposely seduced me. Made me linger here so that he could sneak away and take care of your dirty little business.”

“I did what I must,” she said hoarsely. “Tell me you didn’t enjoy it. When this is all over, you will be glad, lighter of heart. I know how keeping secrets from me weighs on you.”

He glanced over his shoulder to meet her gaze. “If you believe I’ve betrayed you, why not just kill me?”

“Because I love you, Nico.” Her smile was beatific, made eerier because he knew she meant it. “Because you’re mine.
Forever.
For now, go back to your Chessa. You will be called when the
sabat
reconvenes. Darling, think hard on which side you will choose. You risked much for the power you craved. Do not waste it. You must side with those who know better, who’ve lived longer than you.”

Because he needed to think, as well as the freedom to move around the compound, he nodded and left the room…and her alive.

M
iki didn’t mind being left behind in Simon’s home. Her curiosity prickled into hyper-drive as she circumvented his apartment. There were too many intriguing secrets for her to discover among the books and objects crammed into his shelves and on every table in the sprawling, high-ceilinged rooms. Books and papers lay opened everywhere, long passages underscored in red. History books sat next to astrological charts. Metaphysical treatises and mythological works with dog-eared pages and notes scribbled in the margins held more clues to Simon’s preoccupation with the occult. Some books were dated editions; some were so old that the yellowed pages spoke of their age.

The scent of dusty books, sandalwood incense, and a dozen burning beeswax candles, as well as a pleasant cologne and male musk, permeated the place. Simon had lived here a while.

His scent, his personality, was stamped on every frightening and playful object. In a cupboard behind his desk, she found bones—small animal bones, human finger bones, some intact, some crushed and splintered. Mortar dishes held ground powders and dust; she guessed that some of the “spells” he concocted used more than the herbs he hunted now.

She didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty rummaging through his things. She’d been invited to make herself at home, but, as
far as she could recall, she’d never been in such a curious one. She found a drawer filled with small cloth bags and opened a few to find crystals and polished gemstones. Everything pointed to an inescapable and tantalizing conclusion—Simon must be some sort of witch.

Besides his strange collection and the aromas that tickled her nose, there was also a subtle femininity underlying everything. A mirror perched above a sofa—ornate, gilded, a little ostentatious—hung below Simon’s height. Feminine toiletries were bunched on a mirrored tray on the dresser in his bedroom, immaculately dusted, as though waiting for the woman to return to pick them up and apply them. A lady’s robe in thick embroidered silk hung on the back of the master bathroom door.

Miki pressed her nose to the silk and picked up a fading floral scent. Simon’s lady-friend was a visitor in his life, not a true companion.

His choice of pets gave her pause. She gave the bird clinging to a natural tree branch perch in the living room a wide berth, because she felt uncomfortable beneath its constant stare. Something about the small raptor’s posture made it seem…more than a bird. Intelligence gleamed in its golden eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Miki said, “so long as you keep to your perch. Any beaks come pecking my way and we’ll have a problem.”

Small and hawklike with a curved beak, the bird flapped its black-spotted brown wings, then settled down again to preen its feathers.

“So long as we understand each other,” Miki murmured and continued her exploration.

She wondered if she’d find Alex’s home as interesting, as filled with clues about his life and interests. Had he lived as long as it appeared Simon had to have collected so many ancient books and relics? She hadn’t thought to ask him.

Recalling what little she did know made her grow appalled with herself. She was a reporter, a writer with a natural inclination to observe and question everything around her. It was how she’d accomplished so much since her awakening. Curiosity about her world, as well as the mystery that had made her, was what had fed her and driven her to explore.

Yet she’d failed to learn so many basic facts about the man she’d made love with numerous times since they’d met last night. Since he was born to a vampire, did that mean he had family? Did they live nearby?

Was he married?
Did
vampires marry? If he’d lived a long life, how many wives or lovers might he have had?

How did he support himself? Did he have a job, or did he just frequent vampire parties and seek blood donors to fill his appetite to the exclusion of anything else? He’d slyly mentioned once before that those who lived long had the time to accumulate wealth—was he rich? Would he use that wealth to fund an endless orgy of blood and lust?

Somehow, she didn’t think he was a hedonist. Something about him spoke of a man with a deep well of compassion and drive. When this was all over, when he’d conquered whatever demons he sought now, she’d have to ask him. Maybe she should make a list. The questions just kept coming.

She wondered if he’d been as curious about her and what he might have thought about the lack of clutter inside her own small apartment. What had he made of her lack of “things”
that defined a person? Since she was still rediscovering her own tastes, she’d refrained from decorating or collecting. Beyond the supplies and equipment she needed to pursue the one talent she’d uncovered rather quickly, her clothes and furniture were strictly utilitarian and comfortable.

Maybe in the end there wasn’t really anything all that interesting to learn about herself. After all, she wasn’t a Born vampire or a re-hatched
Revenant
. Maybe she should just be satisfied she had a foot in the door into the adventure of a lifetime.

After snooping through everything short of Simon’s underwear drawer, Miki strolled back into the living room, paused to pick up a candle, and settled down in an armchair with one of the tantalizing mystical books she’d pilfered from his library.

Just when she was about to admit the archaic language stumped her completely, scuffling footsteps sounded from beyond the short hallway leading to the door of the apartment.

Thinking it might be Simon, she set aside the book and started to rise.

An explosion of noise—the crack of a splintering door, shouts as armed men spilled into the room—froze her where she stood. Before she even formed the thought that maybe she should run, a streak of gray flashed toward her, halting suddenly to reveal a man dressed in black SWAT-like clothing.

She recognized him from the party. He’d mingled in the crowd, his dark, alert gaze sweeping over the many guests, but never resting long. Tonight, his dark brown hair was scraped back in a ponytail. His harsh, but handsome, features were set, emotionless; his eyes stared at her as though she’d been a curious insect—and just about as insignificant.

A shiver bit her spine.

He stepped so close that his boots touched the tips of her tennis shoes. “Where is the mage?” he asked in a thick Cajun accent.

“Mage?”
That’s what Simon is?
“Not here,” she said, trying to catch a full breath, but he stood too close, looked too lethal for her to do anything but hold herself rigid and pray he didn’t take an instant dislike to her.

He shot a glance over his shoulder at the men fanning out around the apartment. Already a couple were returning from the bedroom and office, shaking their heads.

“Grab the goddamn bird.” His gaze narrowed on her. “Perhaps we should leave him our callin’ card.”

The way he said it—low and rasping, a glint of true evil darkening his eyes while his lips thinned into a smile—had the hairs on her arms and neck lifting.

A feminine hand slipped over the top of the vampire’s shoulder. The hand pulled him back, but he resisted. He shot an acid-filled glance behind him.

Miki broke with the man’s eyes only to lock gazes with the woman who’d worn the crystal-studded blue dress the night before.

The woman lifted an eyebrow and stared him down.

The man backed up a step and the woman walked around him, leaned close to Miki, and drew in her scent. Her head drew back quickly, and she knelt, her nose skimming down Miki’s breasts to the juncture of her thighs.

Shocked into stillness, Miki could only wonder at her crude behavior.

Tension straightened the woman’s shoulders as she slowly rose. “There was a man at the estate last night. A vampire who
remained aloof from the others. She wears his scent,” she said, her voice roughening.

“Do you think he might be the daywalker?”

She shrugged as though the answer didn’t matter. “Perhaps. But if he is, she might be the bait we need to trap him. Do not harm her.” Her gaze returned to Miki, narrowing.

Miki felt as though she’d been marked somehow, that the woman’s pointed stare held more than curiosity—her enmity was a physical thing that washed over Miki in a hot-cold rush of dread.

The dark-haired man flashed a feral smile. “We’ll bring her along. If she’s not important, at least we can have a snack.”

Miki swallowed hard. The polite but debauched crowd she’d circulated in last night hadn’t prepared her for the icy reality of being at the mercy of vampires. She’d seen them move—she didn’t have any hope of escaping them. She knew their strength could easily overpower her if she resisted. She had no choice. Although she knew the wise path would be to keep quiet and not raise anyone’s hackles, her jaw came unhinged in her nervousness. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where you’re taking me and why? I really do have a life to get back to—you know, friends and family who will be wondering what’s keeping me so long. They might even call the police.”

But the one who’d spit out the orders was already storming out, the tall woman in his wake.

“You gonna give me a clue?” she whispered to herself. “Guess not.”

As another man dressed in black wrapped his large hand around her upper arm and dragged her forward, her only silent thought was,
Thank God Alex isn’t here
.

Gabriella quivered with rage. The scent of sex clung to the human woman.

Alex, the bastard, had played her. He’d made her believe he wasn’t like all the other vampire whores who fed and fucked whenever their appetites twisted their insides. But he’d left her, promised he’d seek her out—had let her believe he’d needed the release an old lover would give him.

She should have remembered his tryst with the demon-whore—the one he’d seduced after he’d left her bed in order to get his hands on his precious stone. Alex pretended he held himself above his instincts, that the teachings of his monkish mentor had made him more discerning, less ruled by his baser nature. What a goddamn hypocrite.

Outside the apartment building, she held back while the Security Force escorted the woman and the mage’s familiar into paneled trucks. Pitch darkness shrouded their movements and hid their kidnapping from the other tenants in the building.

Pasqual strode to the lead vehicle and shot her a questioning glance over his shoulder as he held open the door. “Are you coming?”

Gabriella didn’t like Pasqual. Didn’t like the way he looked at her, as though he wished he could carve out her heart. Something dark and repulsive lurked inside him. She was glad she didn’t have to share another long, tense drive with him. It was time to shake her fur loose.

“I’ve found a scent trail,” she said, keeping her anger with Alex banked. As volatile as she felt at the moment, she might let something slip to alert this cagey vampire that she knew more than she admitted. “I’ll follow it for a while. I can make my own way back.”

“If you find him, what will you do?”

“Deliver the message,” she said, with a small, tight smile.

When the vehicles pulled away, she stepped into the walled courtyard beside the apartment building and stripped off the borrowed uniform. Alex’s scent was strong. She’d already noted where his car was parked, and she thought she had a good chance of following it to wherever he’d escaped. She’d find him before Inanna’s henchmen did.

What happened after that was entirely up to how well Alex explained himself. The human couldn’t be important—she had to be a diversion, a sex toy. Surely he wouldn’t be so foolish as to elevate her to their world.

Alex waited impatiently inside the Broussard home as his parents armed themselves. He wondered at the discipline they’d exercised these last strained months as they’d waited for the events that would cast their former selves into the eye of a storm they’d escaped when they’d crossed through a portal and landed in Scotland during the Middle Ages to bide their time and raise him.

How had his tender mother resisted the urge to warn her foster parents and her college friend of the attacks that would take their lives? Instead, they’d waited on the outskirts of New Orleans, biding their time until no chance remained of them catching a glimpse of themselves as they stumbled through their harrowing journey to find each other.

Simon had stayed in close contact with all of them crisscrossing his own path, using his memory, or perhaps the journals Alex suspected he kept, to ensure he didn’t meet himself coming or going. Simon wasn’t certain what might happen if their paths did collide, but he feared the consequences might
be too great to risk satisfying his own curiosity.

Rene entered the kitchen, where Alex had helped himself to coffee. His father’s stern jaw looked like granite as he closed the buckle on his utility belt and sank a handgun into the holster.

“You know,” Alex said dryly, “bullets will only piss them off.”

“It’s backup,” Rene bit out, lifting a short, tactical crossbow from the kitchen table. What he didn’t need to say was that their weapons would be the only backup they could expect.

Alex knew from his father’s terse words and his jerking movements that he was worried.

“I want to hit Simon’s one last time. To make sure he found what he needs for the spell,” Alex muttered, not liking how long he’d already been away. Miki should be safe, but she was probably frightened and questioning why she’d listened to anything he’d had to say.

He hadn’t mentioned her to Rene and Natalie, telling himself there was time for introductions later.

Natalie strolled inside, dressed in dark, close-fitting camouflage, as Alex and Rene were. “It’s odd. Seems like we’ve waited for this moment forever, and now it’s still too soon.”

Rene hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I wish you’d stay here,” his deep voice rumbled.

Natalie slid her hand along his cheek. “Our son needs us both there. We’re going to be sorely outnumbered as it is.”

Rene kissed her, his face slanting to capture her mouth.

Natalie gave a sexy little moan that never failed to make Alex uncomfortable—no matter how many centuries he’d witnessed the passion that still sprang hot between them.