Immortal Craving (Dark Dynasties) (5 page)

“I don’t want your pity,” he said.

“It isn’t pity,” she said, looking flustered. “Why wouldn’t I be sorry for you, if you’re the only one left?”

Now that he knew he had his footing and didn’t feel a trace of the dizziness that preceded one of his blackouts, Tasmin took a step toward Bailey, then another. He knew he shouldn’t get so close. Not when the scent of her was so compelling. But he couldn’t stop himself. Her casual disregard of what he was left him both infuriated and fascinated. She needed to understand he was no domesticated pet to be coddled and soothed. And he… he needed to feel the warmth that seemed to pour from her, to bask in it, if only for a moment.

Tasmin didn’t stop until he was only a breath away from her, looking down into her upturned face. She stood her ground, defiant. Their bodies were so close to touching that he could feel the energy crackling between them, daring him to pull her against him. It was raw attraction, Tasmin told himself, nothing more, even if it was stronger than anything he could rightly remember having experienced.

The urge to stroke his hands over her slim curves, to taste her, was almost overwhelming. Instead, he spoke, forcing out words as her breath feathered his face.

“So many questions. But the answers are not for you.”

Her frown was faint, her eyes hazy. Seeing the delicate pink tip of her tongue flicker out to wet her lips before she spoke was enough to have him hard as a rock… another first since his awakening. Tasmin bit back a groan. This was
not
a good time to rediscover that part of his nature.

It might have helped if he hadn’t caught the sweet, unmistakable musk of Bailey’s own arousal right then.
Tasmin’s nostrils flared. Only the incredible control he’d had to learn in the past few months kept him from pushing her up against the wall and having her.

Bailey seemed to sense the change in him, but instead of shrinking away she stayed put. Her pupils dilated, and her voice was breathless when she spoke. “I saved you,” she said. “I think I deserve a
few
answers.”

A sharp pain twisted deep in his chest. “No one can save me.” Gods, she was warm, so tempting. If he was the man he had once been… but he had not come out of that cave the same. Not at all.

Her lashes lowered, her gaze dropping to his mouth. His resolve wavered, then crumbled as he fastened his hands on her hips and stepped into her. It was a wonderful shock to feel her hands fist in his shirt. She turned her face up to his, lips parted, inviting. He lowered his head…

The sound of the front door opening had Bailey leaping backward as though someone had struck her. She nearly toppled over in her haste to get away from him. Tasmin was frozen in place, afraid that if he tried to move he would quickly find Bailey back in his arms. That would be a terrible idea for both of them.

But it didn’t stop him from wanting it with every wretched fiber of his being.

“Bay?”

A woman’s voice, compelling and rife with concern, echoed from the front of the house.

“Right here!” Bailey called back, though her eyes never left Tasmin’s. She stared at him with wide eyes. Her breathing was as uneven as his was, ragged in the sudden silence. After a moment, she shook her head.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “That was… I think… yeah. Lily’s here.”

She turned on her heel and left the room, vanishing almost as quickly as a vampire might.

Once Bailey’s swaying hips were out of sight, Tasmin realized two things: One—she had removed his shoes while he’d slept. Two—he seemed to be standing in a puddle.

Tasmin looked down, only to meet a pair of soulful dark brown eyes watching him with a great deal of concern. The dog was sitting at—and drooling all over—his feet. It seemed the heated exchange with his mistress had not been much to the creature’s liking. Tasmin could feel the dog’s nerves without even touching him.

What surprised him was the cautious interest that had replaced the dog’s hostility. The furry beast scooted closer when Tasmin took a step back, licking its chops and beginning to wag its tail.

“Oh,
now
you want to make friends?”

A long, luxuriant ribbon of drool separated from the dog’s flews and landed directly on Tasmin’s foot, starting a brand-new puddle.

Resigned, and mildly disgusted, Tasmin lifted his hand to give him a tentative pat on the head. Tasmin huffed out a surprised laugh as the dog—Grimm, Bailey had called him—snuffled at the hand and then gave it a rather sloppy lick. Tasmin ruffled the soft fur on Grimm’s head and finally felt some small amount of relief from his ragged nerves. Another surprise, but it shouldn’t have been. People, mortal or no, were complicated things. Beasts were more direct, easier. They either liked you or they did not.

This one seemed to have decided to like him, for whatever reason. Tasmin took some solace in that.

In this unfamiliar world, there were now two beings that seemed to care whether he lived or died.

Perhaps there was something salvageable left in him after all.

W
HEN
B
AY GOT
to the front entryway, she saw immediately that Lily had brought reinforcements. Well, one reinforcement. But he was the equivalent of a one-man army when he needed to be.

Shit. He looks like he wants to kill someone. Me, probably.

“Hey, guys. I thought I might get both of you tonight,” Bay said, keeping her tone casual. Inside, she was still reeling. Had she seriously just been ready to drag Tasmin to the floor and—

Her cheeks flushed. Yep. She definitely had been.

“When you start taking in stray vampires, you get more than just me,” Lily said with a smile that held a fair amount of concern. “You lucked out, though. Ty wanted to bring half a dozen wolves too. I said no.”

The slim, auburn-haired queen of the Lilim shrugged out of her wool coat and tossed it on the hallway bench. Lily’s husband Ty, a tall, dark-haired vamp with beautiful silver eyes, unwound his scarf from his neck.

“You didn’t
really
bring any wolves, did you?” Bay asked, her nerves prickling as she eyed the front door. She actually liked the werewolves Lily had taken on as guards a little better than the vamps. Maybe, not being immortal, they just seemed more human to her. But for all that they were warm-blooded and actually seemed to enjoy one another, it was hard not to notice that the wolves were a little less civilized than the average vampire. And a lot less predictable.

Not to mention that they
loved
hunting.

When Ty was silent, her stomach sank.

“I don’t need wolves, right?” Bay rushed out. “It’s only one vampire. You two could take him if you needed to. Not that you’ll need to. Everything is fine.”

Ty finally relented, his exasperated affection obvious in his deep, musical brogue.

“Don’t worry, Bay. There’s no one hiding in your bushes. No one I brought anyway.”

The relief nearly had her melting into the floor, but Bay steeled herself, determined not to show it. She
had
to get over it and get used to these… people. Cat vamps, wolves, all of them. Lily’s worried expression had Bay baring her teeth in what she hoped was a reasonable approximation of an easy smile.

I can handle this. I’ll show her I can handle it.

“Great,” Bay said. “Like I said, everything’s fine. He just woke—”

“Fine? Are you serious?” Ty’s smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, his words cutting her off with razor-sharp precision. “This isn’t some harmless charity case, Bay. You’ve got no idea who or what you’ve let in here. This isn’t one of ours. Sick or not, he could have ripped your throat out.”

Bay bit back an angry reply, knowing it wouldn’t help anything. Did he really think she didn’t know how dangerous they all were? She wasn’t
stupid
. But trying to explain the absolute certainty she’d felt that Tasmin wouldn’t hurt her was going to make her sound that way, and considering what had almost happened a few minutes ago, she was feeling stupid enough. She’d had to work harder at forgetting what Lily’s new friends could do to her than Ty and Lily would ever know. Even if she might have forgotten a little too well this time, she didn’t appreciate the scolding.

“My throat’s fine,” she said stiffly.

Lily sighed. She sounded so weary that for just a moment, Bay could look at her and see the old Lily. It made her realize just how long it had been since she had. The thought provoked a dull ache in her chest that she didn’t know what to do with.

Lily, thankfully, seemed oblivious. Even with the ability to do so, she wasn’t one to pry into Bay’s thoughts.

“I’m glad you’re fine, believe me,” Lily said. “I’m just worried that some day-walking vampire sought you out and then”—she gestured helplessly with her hands—“all of this. You shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff. Not to mention that you’re very generous, and a lot of vamps just aren’t that trustworthy. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

Lily’s smile was only a faint shadow. “You wouldn’t be so confident about that if you’d seen what the Grigori had in their basement, Bay. I’m worried. You’re a lot easier to hurt than we are.”

It was an argument they’d had with increasing frequency since the end of the summer, when Lily had narrowly escaped being destroyed by a soul-eating demon
that was kin to the leaders of the Grigori dynasty. The demon, Chaos, had escaped by taking out most of the Grigori ancients, leaving only two. Ever since, the rest of the dynasty leaders had been on eggshells, waiting for Chaos to gather an army of his dark brethren and begin to move against the vampires as he’d promised. But there had been only silence… and Bay’s growing sense that Lily was considering protective moves that would put even more distance between the two of them. Maybe permanently.

The thought of that was incredibly painful no matter how Bay tried to look at it. It wasn’t her battle and she knew it… The thought of fighting the way these creatures did made her nauseous anyway. But she hated feeling like she was on the outside looking in, unneeded.

Her expression must have given her away, since Ty was as disinclined to try to pry into her thoughts as Lily was. Ty poked her in the shoulder, the brotherly gesture settling her the way little else could have.

She
did
like Ty. She needed to remember that.

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with being a sweetheart, Bay,” he said. “Just… next time, if there is a next time, call Eric. His claws and fangs are good insurance, just in case. All right?”

Bay gave Ty a long-suffering look, but it was impossible not to relent. Ever since she’d met him, Ty had been inclined to play the three-hundred-year-old big brother with her. Her own big brother, Steve, hadn’t been much interested in the job since he’d moved away, so she guessed the position was open. At least being treated like a little sister was familiar, if not always thrilling. And it was way better than being treated like a potential meal.

So she sucked it up, dug around for her sense of humor, and did the only thing that made any sense—she let it go.

“You know, I do have other canine options. Grimm has claws and fangs. And better people skills,” Bay pointed out.

That had both of her friends chuckling.

“I have great confidence in Eric’s poor people skills,” Ty replied.

Bay forced a smile, wishing she could agree. Eric Black was a big, taciturn werewolf with amazing hunting ability who had barely said ten words to Bay in the four months he’d been in Tipton. He was captain of the guard in all but name already. And she shuddered to think of how he would have handled Tasmin today. He probably would have cuffed him, locked him in a closet, and waited for Lily to wake up. Considering how most vampires felt about werewolves, and vice versa, it might have turned even uglier if Tasmin had put up a fight.

No, she’d done the right thing with Tasmin, Bay decided. Even if no one else agreed, her gut told her he’d needed to come here, that he wouldn’t hurt her. Weird, but her instincts had never failed her that way. Still… she’d just keep that opinion to herself.

Ty lifted his head and sniffed the air, his nose wrinkling slightly. A strange look settled on his face. “Did he mention what he was?”

Bay nodded. She’d been too frazzled to remember when she’d made the call earlier, but it was fresh in her mind now.

“He said Rakshasa.”

Lily’s surprise was obvious, and she and Ty shared a look Bay couldn’t decipher.

“What?” Bay asked.

“I’ll be damned,” Ty murmured. “Part of me said it had to be, but… they’ve been gone for a very long time.”

Bay slid a look down the hall, toward the back of the house where Tasmin was waiting for them. Her voice dropped. “Do you know what happened to them? He thinks he’s the only one left.”

“As far as I know, he’s right,” Lily said, then looked at Ty. “Anura will want to know.”

Bay looked between them, confused about what the pretty Empusa from Chicago had to do with any of this. Ty’s grim look, though, made even less sense.

“Maybe. You don’t know much about the Rakshasa, Lily—you haven’t needed to—but they weren’t all like Anura’s mate. Not even close.” His eyes shifted to Bay. “Has anything odd happened since he got here? He’s only slept, you’re sure?”

She nodded, unable to keep from sounding defensive. “I’m sure. Ty, he’s not scary or anything. He just wants help.”

“If that’s true,” Ty said, “then you’re luckier than you know, Bay. With the Rakshasa, you can never quite trust what you see. Remember that.”

“Well,” Lily said, sounding just as troubled as Bay now felt, “let’s go find out what he needs.”

Everyone was glaring at one another.

Well, the men, at least. Lily was just more reserved than usual. Bay couldn’t blame her. Tasmin uptight was a lot more unsettling than Tasmin insulting and then trying to kiss her. Before, he’d seemed dangerous but approachable. In mixed company, the “approachable” part of the equation had been removed.

And yet, for some odd reason, Grimm had decided to flop next to him, his big head pressed up against the man’s feet. Odder still was the fact that Tasmin didn’t seem to mind.