Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (14 page)

“What the hell did you just do?” she rasped.

That was when the screaming started.

Alex came out first, slamming out the front door, eyes wild. He staggered down the rotting steps. Bay watched, stunned. She’d never seen Alex be anything but enthusiastic. His terror was far less pleasant. As the other members of BCPS spilled out the door behind him, Alex’s eyes skittered wildly around the dark field. They lit on Bay, seeming not even to see Tasmin.

“Get out of here,” he panted. “We need to get out of here
now
!”

“What—?”

But Bay’s question was drowned out by the shrieks, screams, and soft moans of her fellow ghost hunters as they tripped and stumbled their way across the field, trying to get as far away from the house as they could as fast as they could.

Alex was at the head of them, his long legs carrying him through the brittle field grass toward the cars parked along the side of the road. All she could do was watch in amazement. His hands had been empty—he’d forgotten his recorder. It seemed like most of the equipment had been left behind, which never happened. These were people who generally ran toward weird things, not away from them.

In a matter of minutes, the house stood silent before her and Tasmin, door hanging ajar. In the distance, Bay could hear car engines starting up. She looked out to where there were now bright points of headlights, then rounded on Tasmin.

“What was that for?” she demanded. “What did you do?”

In that moment, he was very much the arrogant creature who’d informed her that her secretary’s thrall would end when he decided, and not before.

“I showed them what a foolish pursuit this is,” Tasmin replied. “They need to find other hobbies.” He looked smug. “After this, I think they probably will.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Their hobbies—
my
hobbies—aren’t any of your business! What did you set loose in there?”

His mouth hardened a little, but he didn’t seem as though he was going to back down.

“There are plenty of shadows to be had in a place like this. All I did was bend and shape them a little. Their imaginations and fears did the rest.”

Bay sucked in a breath, ready to shout at him. But at the last second, she decided to save her breath and just go home. No matter what she screamed at him, he wasn’t going to listen. So she sent Tasmin one last burning glare, turned on her heel, and started back off across the field.

She wasn’t alone for long. Soon he was beside her, keeping stride.

“You’re angry.” He sounded puzzled.

She stayed silent.

“I did nothing to you.”

“You screwed with my friends.”

“I didn’t
hurt
them. I did them a favor.”

Bay turned her head to stare incredulously. “Oh? By terrifying them out of their minds? You vamps are all the same. Mortals are stupid, you know best… and whatever you say goes. Even if it hurts the mortals in question!” The wounded fury she felt surprised her, and Bay knew it had been building for a long time. This wasn’t just about Tasmin. She was tired of being treated like a child simply because of her mortality. Tonight was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Though it did little to tamp down her ire, Tasmin looked genuinely confused. “It was just an illusion. I would never hurt you… them… I wouldn’t—”

“You just
did
,” Bay replied fiercely, wishing she could make him understand. “I’ve never seen any of those people afraid, and we’ve seen some strange things. Whatever you
made them see is going to leave psychological scars, and don’t tell me that’s not a way of hurting someone. There was nothing in there, Tasmin. Nothing, before you decided to drive everyone off. Why would you even care?”

“Because… the unseen can be a great deal more dangerous than you can imagine.”

She stopped short at the way his voice changed, deepening, growing rougher. When she turned to look at Tasmin, he seemed different in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. His stare was full of a need far more raw than anything she’d seen him reveal, his eyes so feline that no one would mistake them for human.

Oh God. He looked so
hungry
.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said, blurting the words before she could think better of them.

“Like what?” That same strange voice grew even deeper, somehow
oilier
. He stepped closer to her. She tried to move, to tear her eyes away, but she was caught. The will to leave drained from her, even as part of her screamed to go, move, now before something terrible happened.

His hands came up to trace her jawline, deceptively gentle. He tipped her head to the side, eyes skimming down the side of her neck.

“You are a foolish human. Still, I understand why he wants you. So much life… so little fear. I’m tired of waiting to taste you. Shall I make it hurt, little human? I think… yes.”

Bay tried to scream, but only a soft whimper came out. She didn’t know what the hell was happening, but there was one thing she was certain of: this wasn’t Tasmin. The eyes that crawled over her were alien, cold. He hadn’t bothered to thrall her so deeply that she would accept
what he was about to do, and she knew why. This man, whoever or whatever he was, wanted her terror. He would find it just as enjoyable as her blood.

With that realization came anger, unexpected and white-hot. She was sure that when this thing was done with her, Tasmin would wake up beside her body and be utterly horrified. He would remember nothing. Just like he didn’t remember killing the Ptolemy the other night. Whether he was mentally ill or something infinitely more sinister was at work here, Bay felt her outrage building on his behalf.

He was being violated, one way or another.

She wanted the Tasmin she knew—or at least, wanted to know—back.

She latched onto her fury, and it gave her more strength than she’d counted on. With a great deal of effort, she managed to speak.

“Give him back,” she said. “I know he’s in there.”

Not-Tasmin looked surprised, then amused.

“You think you can order me about, pretty?” he said in that terrible voice. “He’s mine to do with as I please.”

She gritted her teeth and found she could move her fingers, then her hands. It would have been funny, if this hadn’t been so dire—the stubbornness she’d been famous for since childhood was going to be her only defense against annihilation. If she ever wanted to tell the story, she had to make it count.

With a soft cry she managed to launch herself forward, falling against Tasmin. His arms came around her, more a reflex than anything, she thought. Still, the quick change in their positions broke whatever mental hold he’d had on her as his concentration slipped.

Of course, now his arms were locked around her.
And a quick glance up into his face showed her that
her
Tasmin was still very much absent. Not-Tasmin looked almost comically puzzled.

“You… do not do what you ought to, human. Do you not understand how I’ll punish you?”

She was afraid to respond. He hadn’t let go of her, and though she could feel the life returning to her limbs, she knew she would be no match for him if she tried to fight. She had to find a way to snap Tasmin out of this. Whatever “this” was.

His body was hard and surprisingly warm against her. It was ironic, that when she finally got his hands on her like she’d imagined, it was when he’d descended into the madness of some kind of dangerous split personality. But he
was
still in there, she told herself. She’d dealt with animals that were shy, abused, and disturbed in the volunteer work she’d done in rescue… and though she hadn’t always been successful, patience, persistence, and a kind touch often brought wonderful results.

Of course, she didn’t have weeks. She had minutes. But tenderness was all she had.

Bay forced herself to concentrate on his arms around her, on the man she knew he was as opposed to how he was acting now. It worked. Sort of. She swallowed hard and leaned into him, tucking her head between his shoulder and neck. He stiffened.

“What are you doing?” The voice was still dark and strange, but not overtly violent. So that was something.

“Trying to bring Tasmin back. I know he’s in there. So I’m hugging him.”

“Hugging…,” he sneered. “You think I’ll let go because your body is pressed against this one?”

Her heart picked up again from the adrenaline, but she took a few deep breaths, trying to stay focused on what she was doing. This was her only shot. She had to try, or he was going to have his teeth in her throat before she knew it.

She lifted her head just a little, still deliberately avoiding eye contact even though she could feel him willing her to look. Instead, though she was beginning to shiver, she pressed a tentative kiss to his jaw. Then another. The warm scent of him made it easier to remember who this was… how she had wanted him.

He sipped in a breath, and when he spoke his voice was more muddled, a blend of the inhuman and the man she was looking for.

“Why… are you putting your lips on my skin?” He sounded slightly dazed. Hopefully that was a good sign.

“Because I’ve been thinking about kissing Tasmin since I met him. Kissing
you
.”

“Me…”

She slipped her hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the light prickle of stubble against the sensitive palm of her hand. She kissed his cheek, tracing his cheekbone with her mouth and feeling his skin begin to warm beneath her touch. He’d been like a block of ice at first. Now he seemed to be melting.

Though her stomach fluttered treacherously, she forced herself to take her time. He was already off balance. She wanted him to stay that way.

She slipped her hand into his hair, and it was thick and silken, even more than she’d imagined. She felt him lean into her touch, and had to bite back a sob of relief. It was working. It had to be.

“Tasmin,” she breathed against his skin, against the corner of his full lips. “Come back to me.”

He shuddered against her and clutched her more tightly, the embrace oddly tender.

“Yes. No. Stop.” She heard him in that voice. More, she heard anguish.

Bay rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, hearing the sharp intake of his breath. Then he moaned, a soft, broken sound that was all Tasmin, without any trace of the monster.

She felt the instant he returned, sliding his arms up her back and sinking into the kiss as though he’d been the one to initiate the embrace. His lips were warm, and so soft that Bay never considered pulling away. She’d wanted this far too much, and knowing that this was
Tasmin
, no one else, had relief coursing through her so strong that it nearly took her to her knees. He seemed to sense it, pulling her closer, lifting his hands to tangle in her hair. Tasmin pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her, and the beast was utterly gone. Instead, she saw a fathomless sorrow tangled with a desire that took her breath away.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.

She wanted to tell him it was okay, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead she lifted her mouth to his again, wanting the reassurance of his touch. He’d scared her, badly. And yet somehow, getting a close look at just what he was wrestling with made her want to fight for him. He had no one to try and hold back the darkness.

Now he had her.

“I try to fight… I’m so tired,” he rasped. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. “If you knew… you would run, Bailey.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, breathing the words against his lips. As soon as she said them, she knew they were true, even if she still didn’t understand why.

Then his lips were on hers again, harder, more urgent. Tasmin urged her mouth open and then swept his tongue inside to mate with hers. Bay twined her arms around his neck, hanging on. She felt… savored. Devoured. He held her so close that the slow throb of his heart echoed through her.

Bay slid her hands down his back, arching into him. Every nerve ending sizzled, and she wanted him closer, more,
now
. There was a barely leashed wildness in the way he handled her, his mouth growing more demanding, claws skimming lightly over her.

Claws… he has claws
…

Instead of shying away, she wanted so much more.

Tasmin nipped at her lip, drawing blood. Bay barely had time to gasp at the unexpected pinch before he had taken her lower lip into his mouth and began to suckle at it. Bay’s eyes slipped shut, her head tipped back at the sensation, a slow blooming pleasure that quickly had her throbbing. She’d known, purely on an intellectual level, that having a vampire drink from you could be erotic. But she’d had no idea of what it would actually feel like, that even Tasmin sucking at a tiny puncture wound in her lip would arouse her almost to the point of madness.

She made a soft, pleading sound as she dug her nails into his hips. Despite the layers of clothing between them, it was painfully obvious how hard he was for her. The bitter cold around Bay disappeared… it might have been a hot summer’s day for how quickly her temperature was rising. All she could think of was having Tasmin against her, skin to skin.

He cradled the back of her head, holding that part of her still while he sipped at her. Every long pull he took with his mouth echoed in her, winding her tighter and tighter. He stopped abruptly, pulling his mouth away with a soft gasp and burying his face in the side of her neck, breathing deeply. Bay couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Her body was thrumming like a live wire. She’d known he would feel good… but just this simple taste of him had been dangerously addictive. His lips were wickedly soft, sinfully talented things.

The depth of his need left her shaken. The depth of her own, even more.

Tasmin rubbed his face into her hair, her neck. “Bailey,” he groaned, his voice strained. She shivered as he kissed her jaw, her cheek, her sensitive ear, then tipped her head to the side to allow him better access, pressing her hands into the tensed muscles of his back.

There was a whisper of air, and every hair on the back of her neck rose at once. Tasmin changed in an instant from lover to feral beast, whipping his head to the side with a snarl that bared his gleaming fangs.