Malakai (6 page)

That was it. Kai
connected
when he
looked at her.

It was rare mortals were so bold and
comfortable with eye contact, unless they purposely meant to flirt.
Their lives were so busy and superficial when they did slow down to
converse it was with reluctant eye contact and incomplete
attention. Yet Kai, though she knew he was focused on one
thing—getting sexual satisfaction—seemed to genuinely connect with
her.

Her kind had a good relationship with
werewolves. On the other hand, it could be simply that he could not
resist her vampiric allure.

That was it. He could never have true
feelings toward her. It was the curse, nothing but.

"Much as I fear iron," she said, "I'd like to
see you working over the forge some day."

He nuzzled against her neck and whispered,
"It's hard, sweaty work."
"Now I'm more curious. You, hard and
sweaty?"

He tugged her up against his long, firm body
and planted a kiss on her mouth. He tasted like everything she felt
she must deny herself. The man's hands moved over her hips and
lifted her from the ground to crush her breasts against his wide
chest. Rissa wiggled her toes and purred into the kiss.

"Hard and sweaty will come soon enough," he
said.

"You're already hard, Casanova."

Opposite the imposing warrior, tonight the
man wore casual jeans, a loose sweater and scuffed Vans tennis
shoes. His hair had been tugged into a loose ponytail, which
further emphasized his long, lean face and those dark brows and
intense eyes.

So why did she feel as if she were missing
something? That Malakai Saint-Pierre was more than what her eye
saw. Intuition told her only that he was wolf, nothing about his
personal nature, and that frustrated because usually Rissa was
intuitive about people. And since when did she care? He was a means
to survival.

You know he's more than that.

"Mind if I get you more comfortable?" he
asked, toying with the ribbon at the vee in her dress neckline.

"By all means, do as you please." Because to
argue with her conscience wouldn't serve her the pleasures he was
intent on giving.

The man landed on his knees before her. His
big gray eyes stared up at her, pleadingly, and Rissa nodded.

Curling her tongue out to dash across her
lips, she cooed as his wide, warm hands glided up her thigh,
slipping the silk hem higher. His tongue followed the slow path,
then redirected downward, and ventured past her knee and toward her
calf. There it tickled as his hot tongue limned her flesh.

Suddenly she was airborne and she landed on
the bed. Kai crawled over her, tugging down her sleeves and
suckling at her breasts. He was hungry, intent on taking what he
wanted.

But he stopped abruptly, and punched the bed
near her head. "Damn it! You're going to kill me."

Rissa's mouth fell open. How could he know?
Did he know about her curse?

"I can't fall in love with you," he said
tightly. "I won't."

She didn't know what to say. Did he think
love was something he needed to worry about? Because if so, wow.
And yet… Ah, hell, if he fell in love with her she could never
forgive herself.

Because truly, she knew she was killing
him.

But she couldn't deny herself his flesh and
his kisses and his hot, hard cock. She needed it. Her vampiric
nature demanded she fulfill those wicked desires.

"I need you to know something," he said,
gasping as if from exertion. It was the first time she'd noticed
signs of him weakening because of being with her. "I need you,
Rissa. I want you. I think of you all the time. You've gotten into
my head and my body, and you're there when I'm working on the
sword, and when I'm sleeping or eating. But there's the curse."

She swallowed, not prepared to confess her
curse right now. How had he guessed?

"I was cursed at birth," he said. He bowed
his forehead to her breast. A too-quick kiss left her wanting. "A
faery helped my mother conceive because she was wolf and my father
vampire."

Rissa knew werewolves could not conceive a
vampire's child. And woe to any who agreed to a boon with a
faery.

"The boon was never paid, for complicated
reasons that arose during the birth. So the faery instead cursed me
and my twin sister. If we ever fell in love with a faery we'd have
to ransom our heart." She felt him swallow against her breast.
"Literally."

"Oh, Kai." She spread her fingers through his
hair and hugged him closer. He did not know about her curse.
Whew
. And yet, he lived under an equally devastating
curse.

Love her? No, she wouldn't allow that to
happen.

And yet, she could not stop herself from
pulling him on top of her. It was unthinkable not to. Spreading her
legs, Rissa welcomed her werewolf warrior into her body and he
closed his eyes and began to thrust inside her. It was a means to
avoiding the conversation they should have had. The one that would
involve her confession—a difficult tale.

Instead, to save his life, she'd have to
leave him, and never look back.

Abandoning Kai would bring her death, unless
she could find another lover. But she didn't want another
lover.

Truly, he had broken her.

***

Rissa nuzzled her nose against the pillow,
smiling at Kai's manly scent. He wasn't in bed, and now she picked
up the aroma of eggs and toast. Pulling on a robe, she wandered
into the kitchen, feeling the giddy energy sex with Kai had
restored to her being. As he stood plating food at the counter, she
stretched her arms about his torso and snuggled her face into his
hair. He growled and tilted his head back to nuzzle against
hers.

She'd planned to leave, but she couldn't
leave her own home. So she must make him leave. And he would want
to. She'd become his muse. Nothing could keep him from his art.

"I made you breakfast," he said. "I already
ate. Didn't want to head home until you were awake. I have a new
idea for some final touches to the sword."

"Go," she said, knowing the creativity that
flowed through him was not something he or she could fight.

"Rissa…" He sighed heavily. The man's hands
were wide and sun-browned as he clasped them before his face and
bowed his forehead to them. "About the curse—"

"I understand."

"No, you can't possibly. I like you Rissa.
Hell, I like making love with you."
"No argument there."

"But it's more than that. I think I
could—"

She pressed her fingers to his mouth. "Don't
say anything else. Just go."

The man finally nodded and grabbed his shirt.
She hoped he would stay away, but sensed he would not. Because he
could not.

She had to leave town. It was the only way.
But could she?

"See you later, Casanova," she called, as he
walked to the door.

"After a while, sugar cube."

"I don't like that name, you know."

Now his devilish brow arched and a grin
curved his mouth. "But you're all kinds of sweetness crammed into a
tiny little package."

Well, when he put it that way.

"Rissa."

She shook her head and turned away from him
to hide the tear that spilled down her cheek. "Just go."

His heavy sigh shuddered into her being and
as the door closed, Rissa broke into a sob.

This time she intended to buy food in the
grocery store and not go home with a sexy werewolf for a night of
toe-curling sex. Rissa placed a few peaches in her shopping basket,
and quickly moved toward the broccoli. She kept her eyes down and
her pace steady. If she sensed the darkly alluring, unavoidably
irresistible Kai she'd hightail it out of there.

"The festival is over for the season," a
woman preening over the tomatoes said to her girlfriend, a tall
blonde who juggled garlic, cloves and avocadoes. "No more Irish
warrior."

"That man wears the Sex God crown," the other
agreed. "Such a Casanova."

The hairs on Rissa's arms twitched. They were
talking about him.
Her
wolf.

"Have you been with him?"

"Once," the blonde said. "Never again."

"That awful?"

"Are you kidding me? He was that incredible."
Her words hushed out with reverence. "But seriously? I couldn't
keep up with him. No one can. The man is insatiable."

Time to leave before she started fondling the
fruit again. Rissa veered past the gossiping pair, head down, and
produce in hand. While standing in line to check out, she sensed
the usual weakness that always began in her shoulders and hips. As
if her muscles were strained from trying to hold up her frame. It
was the telltale sign that she needed another lover. Fast. She
required his life energy to maintain hers.

She would not go to Malakai. She didn't want
to kill him. Much as it killed her to stay away from him.

The man in front of her turned and smiled. He
was maybe late thirties and not unattractive. A pair of
black-rimmed glasses gave him a sexy geek vibe. Though she hated
beards. So scratchy.

Rissa frowned and closed her eyes. No man
would match what she'd had from Malakai.

***

It was almost finished. Ooghna stroked her
fingers along the ineffable sword blade that had sung to her for
days while the werewolf had forged it over flame. Watching from
within a glamour so he could not see her perched high in the open
rafters of his work shed, she had grown to covet this blade.

It was, without doubt, a faery blade. And why
Malakai Saint-Pierre possessed such skill as to fashion the weapon
was beyond her. Though suspicious of its nature, he could not be
aware of its true power. With this blade, Ooghna could challenge
the Unseelie king and unseat him from the throne that she desired.
She'd been his champion, his underling for ages, fighting in his
stead, always at his beckon.

"No longer," she said in a silvery whisper
that matched the sword's seductive hum.

Dazzled by its song, she moved to pick it up,
but then paused. A thing of such value must not be taken or stolen.
The maker must gift it to the one he wished to own it, or else it
would be stripped of its power.

The chances of that happening? Nil.

She must find a way to trick Malakai into
gifting her the sword.

But of course, she had an easy way to obtain
it. For she held the boon against the Saint-Pierre family. And she
suspected the werewolf Kai had fallen in love with a faery.

Though she thrilled at the notion of holding
the werewolf's heart, the pull of the sword was stronger.

***

The jukebox in the Four Leaf Clover bar
blasted
Werewolves Of London
. Kai lumbered toward the drunk
who had called him Casanova. His fist ached to meet flesh. It had
been days since he'd seen her. He was anxious and didn't require a
reason to fight. He simply wanted to feel something. Anything.

As he swung toward the mortal man, whose eyes
flashed wide to see Kai coming toward him, suddenly his fist
smacked the palm of a man who wrangled Kai about the neck and swung
him around, marching him out the door at the same time the song's
chorus broke into a wolf howl. It was dark out back and smelled
like rotting fried food from the nearby dumpster. The streetlight
revealed Kai's abductor.

"What the hell are you doing, man?"

Kai swung an angry fist toward the vampire,
but he was quick and dodged the punch, returning with an iron fist
to Kai's gut. The punch shuddered through his system. Kai stumbled
against the wall.

"Rev," he said, breathing through the
remarkable pain. "Did my father send you?"

"No, I happened to be in the bar," the
vampire said. Revin Parker worked alongside Creed Saint-Pierre on
the project that rescued captive vampires from werewolf packs, and
he was a trusted friend of the family, as well as Kai and Kam's
godfather. "What the hell, Kai? You don't beat on innocent mortals
in bars. That's not your style. You look like…you've been on a
bender."

Hanging his head and heaving against the
exhaustion that simple altercation had summoned in his muscles, Kai
growled. He did feel like he'd been on a bender, despite having
drunk two iced teas inside. It was being away from Rissa. He needed
her, for no other reason than that she inspired him and gave him a
reason to breathe.

"I know you're not drunk because you don't
drink," Rev stated. "But I've seen that desperate look before. Is
it a woman?"

The precision of that guess pierced Kai's
heart as if a rapier point, penetrating and exiting out through his
back. He winced.

"I'm losing focus, Rev. I need her back.
She's more than a muse, I think—hell, I think I'm falling in love
with her. I don't like to be away from her. I can't function
without her nearby."

Rev's dark eyes glinted under the
streetlight. "That explains a lot. Love is tough, buddy."

"Why is that? Shouldn't it be easy and pretty
like flowers and…sugar cubes?"

"Oh, man, when a big ole lunk like you starts
tossing out the poetic stuff then I start to worry. You talked to
your dad about this?"

"Can't. He doesn't approve."

"I can't imagine why Creed wouldn't approve
of a woman his son has fallen in love—"
"She's a faery," Kai hissed
out. He slammed his arms across his chest, and defiantly met Rev's
knowing gape. "I know. I know. I did try to avoid her.
After
we got together. I didn't know she was faery the first time."

Rev swiped a palm over his jaw. "I know about
you and your sister's curse. Faeries are a dangerous match."

"Says the vampire who is fucking a
faery."

"Don't talk smack about my wife. We've taken
precautions so her dust won't affect me. It's been over two decades
and I'm still clean."

Kai raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Of the two
of them, he wasn't sure who was worse off. Rev was a vampire in
love with a faery whose dust could prove fatal should he become
addicted to it. Kai wasn't affected by Rissa's dust, but he could
already feel his heart pound in anticipation of some faery warrior
sticking her fingers through his ribs to rip it out.