Into the Darkness (27 page)

Images of her clinging tightly to a stranger as she sucked his

neck had him hard and aching, grumpy as hell.

Chessa’s cheeks had held bright, hectic color as well. He

wondered if she’d fed or was just excited by witnessing Natalie’s carnal feeding. That got him wondering if she worked in

the same fashion and had to adjust his cock for comfort. Both

vampires kept him in a constant state of arousal.

“You gonna let me drive?” he asked Chessa, hoping like hell

she hadn’t picked up on his problem. He didn’t want to encourage her, didn’t want to hurt her any more than he had.

She cast him a sideways glance. “You look beat, Rene,” she

said softly. “You have shadows under your eyes. Why don’t

you try to sleep?”

“You droppin’ me at my house?”

The length of time it took her to answer sharpened his

attention.

“Rene,” she said at last, “you should know that whoever

was after Natalie will be coming after you, now. You can’t stay

there, at least for now. They might think they can get to her

through you—and they won’t stop with a polite question.”

His stomach clenched. “Dammit, Cheech. I want this over.”

“Help me find the killers. That’s the only way you’ll be

free.”

Rene gripped the armrest so hard it creaked then slowly

relaxed. He’d known all along he wasn’t escaping anything.

chapter

16

ene dumped Natalie’s suitcase on the bed in

Rthe hotel, refusing to meet her eyes. His body

was tense and horny. He could have slammed a fist

or his cock through a cement block.

Anger rushed through him like floodgates had

been blasted all to hell. Only it was his home that

had been trashed.

While Chessa had shouted to Natalie to grab clothing and start shoving it into pillowcases, he’d stormed

through his home assessing every scar in his walls and

furniture, every shredded curtain and pillow.

Chessa hadn’t rearmed the security system when

she’d snatched him from his home. He wondered if

that oversight had been an accident, or if she was

trying to prove a point.

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He got it.

His house was no longer his sanctuary, and he was being

hunted, too.

He’d never relied much on his intuition, but this time the

stillness in his courtyard had been eerie, almost like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching, waiting. Even before the

garage light failed to come on, he’d been reaching for the pistol he wasn’t wearing, ready to storm inside.

Chessa had grabbed his arm and pressed a finger over her

lips. She strode into his house, her steps crunching on broken

glass in the distance. When she’d called him to come inside,

he’d thought he was prepared for the worst—but his imaginings hadn’t come close.

The fury behind the destruction had shaken him. Once his

rage was tamped down, he’d started to walk through and assess it like a cop. It became clear the intruder had begun clearheaded, methodical. When he reached the bedroom, that’s

when all hell had broken loose.

By the way the bedding was wadded, Rene could imagine

the monster pulling up the sheets to smell the scent of sex and

a virgin’s blood. That was the moment he’d come unglued.

Even now, well away from the house he’d called home when

Elaine was still alive, he couldn’t shake the anger or the bonedeep fear. If Natalie had been there when the monster had

come . . .

Rene knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“Are you staying here at the hotel?” Chessa asked, her voice

raised, and he realized she must have repeated the question.

He shook his head. He wasn’t feeling very civilized at the

moment. He needed to get far away from Natalie.

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“You want to grab some of your things and head to the office? Maybe you could rack out on a cot there.”

He grabbed a duffel and headed for the door. When he

reached for the knob, he said over his shoulder, “Stay the hell

away from those French doors. Pull the curtains shut. Stay

put until you hear from one of us.”

Behind him, he heard Chessa clear her throat. “I’ll drop

Rene then go see Simon. I’ll find out what he’s willing to do

to help.”

At the last moment, he looked back at Natalie. Her blue

eyes looked huge in the pale oval of her face. “I’ll check in

with you later. Keep your head down.”

As Natalie watched him leave, she felt like her feet were

planted in shifting sand. She moved sluggishly around the

room, putting her things into the tiny drawers of the built-in

dresser. When she finished, she sat in an armchair and listened

to the silence, half expecting to hear a scraping to announce

another chapter of her life—or the final epilogue.

The sight of the destruction inside Rene’s home had left

her shaken and ill. Her parents’ deaths had been more vicious, but she’d had the benefit of time and distance to dull

the horror. Now, it was back in her face.

Rene’s reaction had added to the chill. He’d withdrawn,

his face growing tighter as he’d strode from room to room, the

muscles of his shoulders tensing, his hands closing into fists.

And she was the cause. The killer had come for her and

taken out his frustration on Rene’s home—the message clear.

Rene was next.

All because he’d fucked her. Possibly impregnated her.

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She stared at the small paper bag she’d clutched in her lap

ever since she’d left the convenience store. There was only

one way to find out for sure. Dragging herself to her feet, she

grabbed the paper bag and went into the bathroom.

The instructions were simple, the picture unambiguous,

but after she’d peed on the little white wand, she stared at it

uncomprehending for the longest time.

She was pregnant.

Only two days had passed, but she held the proof in her

hand.

Her stomach rumbled—a gentle roiling that only hinted at

the urgency to come. She thought about ordering from room

service, but feared she’d want a bite of the wait staff rather

than a raw steak so decided to lie down and sleep until dark.

Chessa had promised she’d be back that evening to take her

out. She still didn’t trust Natalie to curb her appetites.

Natalie didn’t blame her one bit.

She lay on top of the comforter and let the overhead fan

wash over her, lulling her toward sleep, trying to shut the

sounds of the storm shrieking past her window. She was

tempted to peek outside, but knew the streets would be practically empty. Only fools and the few who didn’t fear the fury

of the wind would venture outside today.

A soft knock on the door brought her awake in an instant.

She padded on bare feet to the door and opened it, cursing the

fact she hadn’t thought to look into the peephole first. Only

it was just Rene.

Water ran in rivulets down his face. His white T-shirt was

soaked to transparency. The look on his face arrested her—

haunted, stark—and savage. She stood to the side as he en-into the darkness

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tered and closed the door behind him. Before she could open

her mouth to ask him why he was there, he pulled her into his

arms and backed her against the wall.

Natalie’s mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue thrust

inside. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her

body close.

A hand lifted her thigh and dragged it over his hip and he

shoved himself between her legs. His thick, hard cock rutted

against her pussy, pushing her up the wall.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the taste of

him and the heat that built everywhere their bodies met—

but especially between her legs.

As their tongues dueled, her heart beat heavy and hard

against her chest, and the tingling started in the roof of her

mouth.

She tore her mouth away and lifted her lips to show him

her fangs. “You know what you have to do.”

Rene rested his forehead against hers while his chest rose

and fell with each harsh breath. He ground his cock into her

one last time then stood back.

She opened her robe and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She was already shaking, whether from

blood or sexual lust she wasn’t sure. Probably both.

He picked up the robe and ripped an arm off the silken

garment, then held out the sleeve. Natalie took it and turned

away, putting it between her teeth and holding up the ends

for him to knot.

When it pulled snug against her hair, she started to turn

back to him, but Rene’s hands landed on her shoulders, and he

pushed her toward the bed, forcing her to lie over the edge.

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Natalie grabbed handfuls of the coverlet and spread her

legs wide, tilting up her hips to give him access to her sex. His

hands glided from her shoulders, down her back and over the

globes of her ass. There, he paused and squeezed them, then

swept his thumbs into the crease.

She shivered, letting him decide how and where he wanted

to take her. His continued silence unnerved yet excited her.

He’d been driven beyond his control to come here.

His zipper rasped and fingers thrust roughly between her

legs.

But she didn’t care. Moisture melted from her inner walls,

flooding her pussy. She clasped her muscles around his fingers

as he swirled inside her. She rubbed her hardening nipples on

the bed, moaning behind her gag.

When his cock probed between her legs, she trembled, her

breath hitching.

Rene dipped in, finding her channel, then slammed inside,

the force pushing her up the mattress stroke by stroke until

he followed her onto the bed one knee at a time.

His strong arm reached beneath her belly and lifted her to

her knees, but he never stopped the pounding that butted

against her womb with every thrust.

Natalie keened and pressed her hot face into the cool coverlet, closing tight her eyes as her desire curled inside her like a

spring. Sweat and her own juices smeared her thighs, and his

belly slapped noisily against her flesh.

Rene’s hands landed on the mattress beside hers and his

strokes shortened, powering hard and quick as a jackhammer, until finally, he groaned and jerked against her. Hot fluid

spurted deep inside her, bathing her core.

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237

When his hips finally slowed, he dragged air into his lungs

in harsh gasps. Her gag loosened. “Keep that on ’til I’m gone,”

he said, his voice harsh and sounding rusty.

She lay on the mattress, her legs splayed, and her body still

shuddering as he rose and dressed out of her sight.

Not until the door clicked closed did she roll over and spit

out the gag.

It had to mean something—his coming back for her. He

hadn’t turned to Chessa or some other woman to ease his

lust.

As she fell asleep, the image of Rene’s face, tight with pentup anger, stayed with her. She would have liked tasting the

edge of his violence.

Chessa lifted the brass knocker on Simon Jameson’s door and

waited. A steady drip plopped on the floor, and she remembered her slicker and unzipped it.

The door swung open and a woman with waist-length

golden brown hair and dark eyes stood in the opening. She

wore a cream brocade wrapper, something so elaborate it

looked like it ought to be a museum piece. Her pink mouth

appeared blurred from kisses.

Chessa stared for a long moment. “Hello, Kestrel.”

The woman made a dainty moue. “I hate that name. I’m

Madeleine,” she said, her voice musical, yet precise, “and

you’re one of Inanna’s get.”

“I need to speak to Simon.”

“He’s in the shower. Come in and I’ll tell him you’re

here.”

Chessa shouldered past the door and the petite woman, feel-238

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ing like a bull in a china shop. Everything about Simon’s “pet”

screamed femininity. It figured. If you were going to have an

enchanted familiar, why not one you’d enjoy fucking, too?

As she removed her rain slicker and hung it on a coat rack,

she looked around his apartment, taking in the smell of dusty

books and incense, finding objects she knew anyone else would

mistake for gothic kitsch, but she knew were a mage’s toys.

She was peering into a copper-framed mirror that oddly

reflected only the contents of the room, when Simon strode

inside, wearing a T-shirt and loose trousers. The outfit

was totally at odds with his true Templar face and brawny

physique.

“Your mirror doesn’t work,” she said, lifting a brow.

“Only demons find it useless for combing their hair,” he

said, his reflection smirking in the glass.

Chessa rolled her eyes. “I met your bird.”

“Lovely, isn’t she?”

“Tell me,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Is she your willing captive or your slave?”

His smile thinned. “She’s not up for discussion. You’ve

come about Natalie.”

“I have.” Chessa plopped down on an overstuffed sofa and

put her feet on the coffee table. She wasn’t sure why, but annoying Simon was tops on her list of fun things to do today.