Embracing Midnight (19 page)

The dart struck its target.

Something hissed, scrambling back as if in pain. The shift from small shadow to a man-sized shape took place almost instantaneously.

Callie stood there, stunned. Mouth dropping open, she ripped off her goggles.

Iollan Drake’s tall frame loomed in front of her. Fangs bared in pain and anger, he looked like nothing belonging to planet Earth. His eyes glowed like phosphorescent coals, and a furious snarl poured over his lips.

Stunned disbelief coursed through her body all over again. Callie felt sick, dizzy. The silver had forced a shift, just as promised. Aside from that it didn’t seem to be slowing him down. He stood within half a dozen feet of her, his tall frame overwhelming her vision. The power he emitted swathed her.

The creature that had emerged from inside Iollan looked scary. And ready to fight. The low, feral growl of the angry beast emanated from his throat.

Sudden insight is like a flash of lightning. It comes and goes without warning. Six foot four of towering angry vampire didn’t match five foot ten of a trembling-in-her-boots woman. A woman about to get her ass kicked. An understatement.

She was shaking so hard that she nearly lost her grip on her weapon, and confusion swirled through her mind. Suddenly she wasn’t prepared for this moment. Icy fingers wrapped around her heart with incredible force. Her head reeled from the unexpected sight. Seeing him in his true form, she felt her spine vibrate with acute sensitivity. He’d filled his hands with her flesh, filled his mouth with her blood.

Oh, shit.
Talk about waking the sleeping beast.

The dart had struck Iollan in the shoulder. Brushing it away like lint, he snarled softly. “It’ll take more than a little of your poison to put me down.”

Callie quelled the instinct to run. Run, and he would overtake her. Run, and he’d kill her. Every fiber in her body tightened like a wound spring. Nervous energy crackled in the air around her.

Fear tightening her chest, she hefted her gun back into firing position. “Don’t move. I don’t want to hurt you any more than necessary,” she said through the dry roar in her ears. She had no doubt he would rip her to pieces if given the chance.

Iollan Drake’s glowing gaze moved from the weapon in her hand to her face. Bittersweet recognition warred with the pain of betrayal. “I gave you your chance to walk away, Calista.” Low and rough, his words were guttural, menacing. “I see you repay my gift with betrayal.”

“You knew what I was when you made the decision to let me live,” Callie countered. Her voice was shaky but determined.

Jaw clenching, Drake’s eyes narrowed. His hands tensed into fists at his sides. “Wrong decision.”

“Tough shit,” Callie snarled. “You’ve been fucking with humans a long time. About time you got fucked back.” Finger poised above the trigger, she didn’t fire a second time. Shooting the man she’d made passionate love to—fanged or not—definitely wasn’t on her list of top ten things to do in her life.

Iollan’s gaze cut to the gathering darkness outside. He seemed nervous, a wildcat fighting the cage; he quivered, as if anticipating escape. “The only one who’s going to get fucked is you.” Without warning, he swooped forward. Suddenly he seemed to be everywhere. And then he struck with a clothesline blow, knocking her flat.

She landed on her back, the blow forcing the breath out of Callie’s lungs. A pile of arms and legs, she fought with every ounce of her strength to escape. Her sharp fingernails scored several deep scratches across his left cheek. Bigger and stronger, he quickly gained the upper hand. Ducking her flying hands, he wrestled her down. His body straddled hers. Fingers like iron bands pinned her wrists down.

Her adrenaline-driven frenzied human strength didn’t come close to matching his. “Goddamn you, let me go!”

Iollan’s strong jaw locked, stubborn and determined. “Be still and be quiet,” he hissed, panting from the effort of keeping her pinned.

Glaring up at him, Callie kicked and writhed. Her hands were locked in place.
Damn, he’s strong.

His control over her body made her quiver, breath coming quick and shallow. Pressed beneath his weight, she easily recalled the times they’d made love. The warmth of his body pressing against hers felt so familiar. So right.

Not the thing to be thinking about now!

She stilled, glaring up at him. Pushing her chin out, she bit out defiantly. “You bastard! I should have pumped you full of that shit.”

Iollan held on to her like Super Glue. “I should have ripped out your throat when I had the chance. Maybe now is that time.” He bared his fanged mouth and dipped his head toward her vulnerable exposed throat. The pinch of sharp points pushed into her skin.

Callie immediately stilled. Squeezing her eyes shut, she refused to scream, refused to beg. She wouldn’t plead, Goddamn it. The hot demand of tears pressed at the back of her eyes. She blinked them away, ignoring the tug of emotion at her heart.
Don’t be stupid.
She’d made her choice. Now she had to live with the consequences.

The sharp pressure at her neck vanished. Surprised, she opened her eyes. Iollan hovered above her. The anger in his eyes had morphed into something else.

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. The cold in his face dissipated, and his expression softened. Beads of perspiration dotted his brow and upper lip. “I don’t want to kill you, Calista.” He turned his head, just a little. When he looked back at her, his fangs had vanished, retracted.

Head still spinning, Callie wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “What did you say?”

Lowering himself, he briefly touched his lips to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His words were spoken as a whisper against her lips.

An immediate shudder went through her. “Y-you don’t?” she stammered back stupidly.

Shaking his head, Iollan drew his hands away. The delicious curve of his lips made her feel as though the room was doing a half spin. “No, I don’t.”

Her gaze strayed to his face. His eyes twisted her insides. No hate. No anger. Only regret. “Why?”

Iollan traced one finger across her full lips. “I told you. I made a mistake,” he whispered through a ragged sigh. “And fell in love with my enemy.”

Callie gazed into his eyes, lost in what blazed there. Fluttery feelings spread through her like warm honey. “No, don’t say that,” she mumbled, her response barely audible.

A slow smile turned up Iollan’s lips. “I wanted you enough to risk staying.” He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her lips. “I wanted to taste you one more time.”

Shaking her head, Callie swallowed the lump building in her throat. A pent-up breath rushed from her lungs. “We can’t.”

Iollan’s gaze caught hers, digging, probing. “One more time is all I ask.”

Callie started to protest. Sexually, he was the aggressor. A woman he made love to was engulfed by sheer lust, swept away in the erotic whirlwind he evoked in the female body. He went from tender to rough, from pleasure to pain, in the blink of an eye. “There’s no time.”

Iollan ignored her. The savagery of his desire spurred him on. His hold tightened. Instantly a blaze of desire ignited between them, as though it had been simmering below his surface composure for too long, waiting only for a spark from her to burst into full flame.

Callie felt his mental strike. She stiffened, trying to fight the pressure building inside her skull, and failing. The force pushing inside her brain was relentless, refusing to stop until all access was granted.

Her world blurred as two different sets of images from two different minds—hers and his—mingled and merged. At the same instant an electric sensation smacked her right in the center of her forehead. Iollan’s will cut through her consciousness and she lost all control.

Time slowed to a standstill, reality slipping into a dimension filled with funhouse mirrors. Darkness crept in.

Callie’s mind hazed. Something had definitely settled inside her skull. Drake had tasted her blood more than once. He knew her down to the very last cell in her body, down to the very last thought in her head. The pressure branched out like a spider’s web, traveling with unnerving speed through her brain.

For a moment it seemed as if the entity inside looked out through her eyes. Then it turned inward again and she remembered lying in a damp naked sprawl under Iollan’s muscular body.

Then, his bite. His deliciously painful bite, driven into her skin by unnaturally sharp teeth. Instead of rejecting the pain he delivered, she’d reveled in it, sunk into it. The discovery had been sweet and drugging.

Iollan Drake didn’t blink. His intense stare lanced her. He mentally pushed. Harder.

Callie gasped. Her chest heaved one, twice. She braced herself. Self-control wasn’t lost or adrift. It was drowning. She floundered in the confusion of two conflicting viewpoints. Images kept intruding inside her brain, raw and vivid fragments of their bodies pressed together. She shivered, remembering the feel of his lips crushing her mouth, exploring her breasts.

The knot tightened inside her belly. The pulse between her legs grew stronger, more insistent. Incredible sensations shimmered through her.

The unexpected buck of climax surprised her, slamming her into a hot burst of carnal pleasure. A shudder went through her. Her body silently screamed, every muscle tightening with need. Whirling thoughts danced with the pulse pounding in her throat. Even now, seeing him in his true form, she still wanted him.

Desperately, and without doubt.

The illusion of pleasure suddenly melted. Unwelcome reality swiftly intruded. She felt as though hours had passed, but only seconds had ticked by.

Jarred from the fantasy, Callie locked her jaw. Her head felt as if a stick of dynamite had been lodged between her ears. She shook her head, swallowing against the nausea. “Get out of my mind,” she grated between gritted teeth.

Iollan’s invasion receded a little.

Grateful, she gasped. Her tongue traced dry lips, wetting them. Aware his body still controlled hers, she wriggled out from under him. He let her go.

Callie sat up, grasping her head. “Thanks for a nice fuck, but this isn’t the time for those kind of thoughts. You should be thinking about getting the hell out of here.”

The hand Iollan lifted to rub his eyes trembled. The silver was beginning to infiltrate his system, weakening him. “Maybe I’m tired of running, of being driven into hiding time and time again,” he snarled, but the hateful tone in his voice fell well short of the emotion. The intensity of his voice told her all she needed to know.

Guilt twisted her inside. As tough as she wanted to appear, she was shaken up pretty badly. Not because of what he was, but because she’d be responsible for his capture. “Seems to me running might be a good way to stay alive.” How ironic. The captor wishing for a way to get him the hell away from this place before the rest of the agents caught up.

He gave a fatalistic shrug. “Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Terrific. A suicidal vampire.

Callie glanced toward the windows, the burnt frames offering a glimpse of sun as it sank lower, dipping behind the faraway horizon. Shadows gathered, thickening. Her gaze locked with Iollan’s across the narrow expanse separating them.

“It matters to me.” She started to touch him. Climbing to his feet, he backed away from her reach. She stopped. “Can you get the hell out of here without being seen?”

Eyes intense and focused, Iollan nodded. “I just need the darkness, Calista. I can be gone.”

Emotion tightened her throat. Remembering the corpse on the table, the mutated thing in the jar, Callie gazed toward the gaping windows. No matter what Iollan might be, she couldn’t do that to another sentient being. Conscience wouldn’t allow it.

Time to make a decision. The hunt for the vampires wasn’t going to stop, but she could prevent the capture of at least one. If he just happened to get away, well, would that be her fault?

She blew out an anxious breath. Fuck the job. Plans had just changed. She’d deal with the fallout when the time came.

“Just get the hell out,” she hissed under her breath. “Get away from this place.”

A voice behind and to her left cut her off. “Take one fucking step in any direction, Drake, and I’ll pump you full of this shit.” Charging in like a general leading the troops, Roger Reinke activated his communications link. “We have an agent down. Get your asses in here, double time.”

Head twisting around, Callie cursed under her breath. Goddamn it. Roger had his weapon up and sighted. No way he’d miss at this distance.

Caught like a rat in a trap, Iollan Drake reacted like a feral animal, purely instinctive and self-preserving: snarling, his lips curled up, revealing deadly fangs.

Caught between the two men, Callie held up a hand. Keep your head, she warned herself. Don’t lose it now. Helping Iollan was her first and only thought.

“I’m okay, Roger,” she called. “He didn’t hurt me.”

Looking past her as if she hadn’t spoken, Reinke glared a stream of pure wicked hate. “Just move,” he warned Drake. “And I’ll gladly send you back to the hell that spawned you.”