Nightfall (35 page)

Yes, Quinn. Fuck me. Make me forget. Let me be who I am
with you, even if I can’t be that with anyone else. I’m safe inside your heart.
They can’t change that.

Everything inside him broke open at that, and he thrust into
her, deeper, trying to get all the way to her soul. The clasp of her arms, the
clutch of her fingers, her breath on his neck, told him he might already be
there. God, she felt so good. Her nails dug in, telling him she needed to feel
his demand. But she wasn’t guarding her mind so much now, another indication of
her weakness that helped him restrain himself, slow down and be even more
tender, the kiss drawing out into a nuzzling of lips, causing her to sigh into his
mouth. He had the honor of her trusting him to take her all the way home,
relying on his strength to move them together, work her up to climax. He held
his own back. He hadn’t been there for her. He didn’t deserve any pleasure. She
deserved it all.

The climax was a trembling, near-miss kind of thing that
just made it over the pinnacle, hampered by her physical state, but he relished
the glazing in her eyes, that immersion in the sensations that took her away
for just a moment from what had happened. She was weak and shuddering in his
arms afterward, making him wonder if she needed more blood. He’d already
recovered from what she’d taken earlier. He’d never been so glad of the
rejuvenating power of being a full servant.

“I might need a little more,” she agreed. “Let’s go back to
the downstairs bed.”

“Okay.” After making sure she was all clean and rinsed, he
switched off the shower and carried her out to the chair, wrapping her in a big
towel before drying himself and pulling on his jeans. When he sought some clean
linens for her cot, she watched him with those mysterious blue eyes. He’d left
his shirt off and, as he moved back and forth in the small bathroom, her
fingertips trailed over his bare skin.

“You didn’t come,” she said.

“No, Mistress.” He gave her a wry smile. “You didn’t say I
could.”

She studied him as he lifted her again. The fact she didn’t
say she could walk on her own told him she was still too worn out. The anger
was back and a lot of other things too, unleashed by that tender moment. He
should be glad for what he could be for her right now, but the alpha male in
him couldn’t rest with that. Damn it, he had to do something. He couldn’t just
be here to pick up the pieces.

“Quinn.” Her voice was a caress against his throat as her
arms slid around his neck again, holding him as he carried her back down the
stairs, through the bar and to the cellar once more. Setting her in the chair
she had beside the cot, he made up the bed, kicking the blood-soaked covers and
blankets aside, probably with more passion than was necessary. Once she was
asleep, he’d get a mop and clean up the blood spatter, get rid of those
clothes, so she’d wake in an environment that didn’t show the violence that had
been done to her.

He guessed there was no way he could hide the shift in his
emotional tide, but fortunately she seemed to be dozing again, thank God. He
tucked her in, but as he began to slide away, her hand latched on to his arm.

“Stay.”

“I’m not leaving, Mistress. I just want to get these sheets
out of here where you don’t have to see them.”

Her eyes opened, focused on his face. He sensed her delving
even deeper and wished he could block his thoughts the way she could. The way
she had. Fuck, she’d been going through this while he was checking out a damn
bull, having drinks with his buddies…

“What would you have done if you were here?” she said
softly.

It was a harsh kick to the balls, one that made him step
back. “Apparently nothing you think would be of use,” he said tightly. Bending,
he picked up the sheets, balling them up in his arms. He took several steps
away from her, fully intending to take them up to the laundry room and stay
there until he could get himself under control. He made it five steps before he
drop-kicked them against the wall and spun around.

“Damn it, Selene, you should have reached out to me.”

“And watch Laurent kill you in front of me?” She pushed
herself up with obvious effort, though her eyes had gone cold as polar cap
snow. “Is that what your testosterone demands?”

“It’s what you need and want that matters.”

“No, obviously not. Not if you’re more focused on what
happened yesterday than what’s happening right now.” She put her hand on the
clean sheets. “This is what I needed from you. You can’t control what happens
between vampires. I have precious little control of it myself. What I need is a
safe port, Quinn.”

“Someone who keeps your heart safe. Not your body.”

“Yes,” she said harshly. “In my world, finding someone who
keeps your heart safe is a far more difficult task, believe it or not. I’m sixty-two
and you’re the first I’ve found up to the task.”

That brought him up short. That and the broken note in her
voice, despite her lifted chin and eyes shooting sparks at him. If she wasn’t
so obviously exhausted, her gaze said she was ready to tie him up and beat him
herself. Then he imagined Laurent doing that to her, only with far less
pleasurable results than he’d experienced at her hands. His rage descended into
a frustration so raw and jagged he felt like he was being torn open from the
inside.

He came to her, knelt by the bed, framed her face in his
hands. “How can I be who I’m not, Mistress? How can I care for you if I can’t
protect you?”

His grandfather had taught him that it was a man’s
responsibility to protect and defend women. To always treat them with the
greatest respect. The absolute opposite of everything he saw when he looked
into her battered face.

Her mouth softened and she touched his face in return. “You
care for me in the very way you are, Quinn. That’s what I need. Trust me to
know how to handle certain things until you can figure them out.”

He sighed, put his forehead against hers. They stayed that
way a bit, then he realized her arm was shaking. With a quiet oath, he eased
her back down. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to deal with my crap. You need more
blood, right?”

“Later. Just lie with me right now. Sleep with me. Do
laundry later.” A faint, humorless smile touched her lips. “The smell of blood
doesn’t bother vampires. Promise me you won’t leave me until dawn. Stay with me
until I’m really asleep.”

“I promise.” He got into the narrow cot with her, folding
her in his arms, her backside nestled up against him. She gave him a playful
little rub, reminding him his cock was still unassuaged, but he didn’t care
about that. Not right now.

Good. Because I may keep you suffering for a while for
yelling at your Mistress.

He made his lips pull into a stiff smile and brushed a kiss
over her temple. Since he could feel that lassitude pulling her down toward
slumber again, he rocked them both, humming to her in an off-tune, meandering
way, just old campfire songs, things to soothe them both. Her pulse slowed, her
breathing changing to an even rhythm.

“Promise…” she breathed.

He didn’t know what she was asking him to promise. That he
wouldn’t leave her until dawn, or something different, but he knew what to
answer.

“I promise.”

Wasn’t that what it boiled down to in the end? An
open-ended, blank check between two people meant to be together.
I promise
to be whatever you need, love you endlessly, never let you down.

He knew she’d been trying to tell him he hadn’t failed her,
but in his world, no one treated a woman like that and got away with it.
Laurent wasn’t going to be the exception, even if he was a goddamn vampire.

Though Quinn relished holding her, he also chafed at the
time. But Laurent had to go to ground as well, right? Every vampire movie Quinn
had ever seen said that was when he’d be most vulnerable. That was when Selene
was the most vulnerable, after all, and why she holed up here behind a locked
door.

When he finally slipped out of her arms, it was a couple
hours past dawn, the time when she was in that deep sleep from which only dusk
would wake her. Adjusting the blankets over her, he stroked her hair from her
face. She was completely out of it, a deep, restorative slumber. Which worked
better for his purposes, as insane as they might be. But then a man who put
himself on the back of an animal that outweighed him ten times knew a few
tricks. He didn’t rely on strength as much as smarts and quickness,
anticipating what his opponent might do. That’s what he’d do here.

First up was getting some intel on this particular bull.
Once he was in his truck and well away from the saloon, he pulled off to the
side of the road, took a few deep breaths and called up Dix.

“Mornin’,” Dix drawled. “Miss us already?”

Under other circumstances, Quinn might have struggled with a
response. Figuring out how the typical male razzing worked with a guy who’d had
his mouth on your dick like a vacuum hose—all while getting his own brains
fucked out by his Master—presented a unique challenge. However, today Quinn had
other concerns than managing his own paradigm shifts. “Have the Region Masters
come to a decision?”

“They said they’d let Butch know by tonight. Any sign of Laurent?”

“Yeah. Big time.” Weighing the pros and cons of it, he
nevertheless let Dix know in bald terms how he’d found Selene. Dix let out a
curse.

“Son of a fucking bitch. Goddamn, Quinn. I’m sorry. I don’t
think Butch had any clue he’d be that sadistic of a fuck. Usually they show a
little more restraint, especially since she’s an asset to his territory.”

“Apparently him proving he’s not going to be made a fool is
way more important to him. So Butch knew he was coming?” He might just have two
overlords to kill.

“He suspected Laurent might try to confront her ahead of
time, get his licks in before a decision is made. He warned Selene like he
promised, offered her sanctuary at the house, which she refused. So he figured
if Laurent showed, he might be a bit heavy-handed, but…damn, Quinn. He had no
idea. He’s not going to be happy about this.”

“Well his happiness is at the top of my too little, too damn
late list.”

“Quinn.” Dix’s tone of warning was expected, but it was more
than that which had Quinn reining back further venom. Dix’s genuine regret on
his Master’s behalf reminded Quinn that Selene still had an ally they couldn’t
alienate. He let another, even more important worry rise to the top. “Did I do
everything she needed? Does she need anything other than blood?” Anything other
than someone capable of defending her? He pushed that jagged feeling down
viciously.

“No, you did good. It’s horrible and miraculous at once, how
much of a beating they can take and heal up. The day me and Butch tussled with
the bull, that asshole threw me out of the way and took a horn right in his
gut, pinned him against the fence. Would have killed a human, but he took a
good draught of my blood, about a day’s worth of sleeping like the dead, and
didn’t even have a scar to brag about. That kind of pissed him off.”

The fond affection in Dix’s voice might have amused Quinn on
a good day. Today wasn’t that day.

“So she should be fully restored if she gets a good deep
sleep.” If she was completely oblivious to his doings, all the better.

“Should do.”

“Will Laurent stay in the area until a decision is made, or
is she expected to go back to him under her own steam if it’s ruled in his
favor?”

“She could, but I expect if he cared enough to come down and
do that, he’s somewhere in the area, waiting for the decision so he can take
her home if it goes his way. But—” Dix broke off abruptly. “You’re not asking
on your Mistress’s behalf.”

“What gave it away?” Quinn bared his teeth.

“Okay, no bullshit now. I need you to listen up, Quinn.”
Dix’s deadly serious tone was sharp enough to catch Quinn’s divided attention.
“Listen and listen good. You go after a vampire, there is no upside to that.
He’ll kill you and give your life as much thought as you spitting toothpaste in
the sink. Though from what you’ve told me about him, he’ll take particular
pleasure in it, because he’ll know it’s another way to hurt her.”

That last part gave Quinn, pause, but then he remembered
seeing her bloody face, the torn skin of her back. “What happens if I kill
him?”

“You won’t. Damn it, Quinn, you’re pissed off, I get it. But
you’re so new to this world. Going up against a vampire isn’t like some heroic
David and Goliath story. There are a handful of vampire hunters out there, and
very few of them have any kind of success. Even those who do don’t have long
life spans. No need for a retirement plan in that profession.”

Vampire hunters?
So Selene could have human enemies
he’d have to watch out for? He’d file that away to deal with another time and
focus on the part of that he could use. “But some have managed it.”

“Yeah. With exceptional talents for subtlety and surprise,
capital ET. No offense, but you sound as if you’re in about as subtle a mood as
a Sherman tank. A vampire is about ten times stronger than a human and, if you
hadn’t noticed, they’re faster than cars at top speed when they want to be.
There are only a couple ways to take them out, a stake or decapitation, and
neither of them is easy to pull off. Got it?”

“They experience pain the way we do though. It slows them
down.”

“Yeah, it can.”

“I wasn’t asking. I just found my Mistress in a blood-soaked
bed, her skin torn to shreds. I saw firsthand.”

“You should keep focusing on her care. Stay at her side,
Quinn. Trust me. That’s the best thing you can do for her.” Dix blew out a
breath. “I know you’re not fucking listening to me. But promise me you’ll
remember one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The most important thing a servant can do for his vampire
is serve them. It means a lot more than bringing them a drink or having sex
with them. I saw the connection between the two of you. You were starting to
get everything that word means. Part of it is sometimes putting away what your
gut tells you to do so you can fulfill the most vital part of serving them.”