Shadow of the Vampire (13 page)

         
Yet, slowly, as if time was something he had more than mere hours of at his disposal, his lips trailed from her chin, across her collarbone and back again, savoring every intense reaction flicking through him with each new perusal of her velvety skin. How her warm body cushioned his with aching perfection. The sweet yet spicy perfume of her skin filled his nose and brought flashes of desire and warmth pulsing through his sore body.

         
With his eyes closed, his acute senses easily identified his scent on her. The silent yet potent brand of ownership lingering around her excited him on some primal level he never knew existed. Intrigued, he followed the lingering trace to the bite mark still healing on her neck. A shiver moved through her when his lips and then his tongue brushed it. Declan paused only for a moment to consider if she trembled at the memory of his bite or at the thought of him doing it again, before tasting his way back to her lips. If he allowed himself to go there, he'd be at her throat, her vein, once more. Gods knew his body needed it. But as mad and lost as he may be, some part of him knew if he ever wanted to be free from this place, from her, he could not afford to go there again. She'd already nettled her way under his skin after one sample. He wasn't sure if he'd survive another.

         
By the time he sealed his lips over hers, a harrowing notion--that the woman beneath him was the root cause, not only of his capture and perhaps even the death of his parents, but the inner turmoil and unrest deep within his soul--transmitted in only a mute echo in the far recess of his brain. Which made sense, since the driving need pulsing in his core signaled most of his cognitive brain cells had shot southward with a vengeance.

         
A hand clutched his shoulder, holding him in place and pulling him closer at the same time. One of her thighs lifted higher on his hip, the cool leather sweeping across his heated flesh and sending a shiver up his spine. Painfully hard, he finally allowed his weight to sink into her hips. The little vampire moaned in his mouth. He swallowed the sound, feeling it run straight to his tightening balls.

         
ALEXIA HEARD D ECLAN'S GROAN, felt him harden against her inner thigh. For the first time, the prospect of what came next sent only white-hot need through her veins instead of icy fear.

         
Suddenly, the insistent beat of approaching footsteps sounded down the hall. Alexia frowned. Footsteps meant sundown, which meant...

         
"Guards!" She hushed, pushing hard on his chest. A pained moan tore from him when her hand grazed his injury. Yet he still managed to haul himself upright and take her with him seconds before Ivan walked through the doors. Alexia ran a hand through her tousled hair and tried to calm her ragged breathing.

         
The soldier's sunglass-shielded gaze panned the room, instantly settling on them. Their thighs, just brushing one another, their shoulders, turned decidedly inward, and then their faces, no doubt a study in guilt.

         
Alexia sucked in a breath and scooted away from Declan's side. Flustered, she flexed the hand covering her dagger. Placing it in the holster at her lower back, she shoved off the floor. Brushing off her pants, she did not dare hazard a glance back down at Declan.

         
Declan.

         
His name repeated in her mind, causing an unwitting smile to tweak her lips. She knew his name now, knew his scent, his taste. Unconsciously, she lifted her fingertips to her mouth. Her lips burned with the searing memory of his kisses. Alexia didn't have to look back to know he was wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. That he looked too sexy by half, even covered in dried blood and filth.

         
"What were you doing?" Ivan's narrowed eyes looked from the cell to her face.

         
"Interrogating him, what do you think?"

         
A dark eyebrow lifted over the frame of his glasses. "Well, you're wanted above ground," he said, before turning to retrieve whatever he'd been sent down there for in the first place.

         
"Above ground?"

         
"Yes." He lifted two crossbows on his shoulder. "There is something going on out there you need to see."

CHAPTER EIGHT

         
ALEXIA STEPPED INTO the turbulent night. Crisp sea air purged her lungs of the stale scent of the compound. Now, if only it would purge her mind, she thought with a groan. Tightening her coat around her neck, she followed the dirt path around the cavern to the cliff's edge Ivan had told her about.

         
One hundred feet below, the riotous ocean beat against rocks and sand, drowning out any other sounds. Tucking an unruly lock behind her ear, Alexia stepped alongside the scouts, looming at the edge of the cliff.

         
"What is it, soldier?"

         
Without turning around, Markov reached back, holding something in his outstretched hand. Alexia grabbed binoculars and set the device to her eyes, pointing them in the direction he looked. The sophisticated display monitor flashed, the bright red bull's-eye locking on to targets moving alongside a cliff not a hundred feet away. Her blood gelled.

         
"Dragons," the soldier stated.

         
"I can see that."

         
"What do you think they are doing?"

         
"It's obvious they are looking for something," she said, trying to sound unconcerned as she tossed the binoculars back. "Or someone."

         
Or both.

         
At the thought, Alexia tightened her arms around her. Goddess, what should she do? Her mind leapt from one possibility to the next. Most of the outcomes were brutal. She needed time to think. "Inform me when they either leave or move within range," she said, turning back around.

         
"You're leaving?" one scout said.

         
"Without doing anything?" said the other.

         
At their questions, Alexia looked over her shoulder. "Do we have a problem?"

         
Markov flexed his jaw. "Pardon, princess," he said through obviously clenched teeth. "But they are right there. If you'll but call a few of our best archers up here we can drop them like flies."

         
"Yes, we could," she said, pivoting to face them again. "But without discovering their reason for being here. Without knowing if more will come in their place while we are not so ready," she shouted. "Perhaps they find the back stairs next time and it's our women and young they run into instead of you."

         
His massive head shook and a disgusted snort grunted out of him. "Lotharus is right about you."

         
An icy shiver ran up her spine. "What did you say?"

         
Markov turned to face her. Even with his dark sun glasses, humor lay evident on his meaty face. "You are too weak-minded and pathetic to rule."

         
Alexia snarled, her fangs sliding past her lips. "There is only one stop left on this road you're taking, soldier." Her claws lengthened and the gun at her hip suddenly magnified in weight. "I'll warn you now. You don't want to take it."

         
A wooden smile spread across his face and he bared his fangs. "Wanna bet?"

         
Alexia didn't wait for the second syllable to fall from his lips before her leg shot forward, driving the heel of her boot into Markov's nose. His head kicked back and a loud roar bellowed out of him. The second soldier made a move for her. Alexia swirled into a crouch and thrust out her leg, laying him flat on his back with her sweeper kick.

         
Without pause, she stood and reached out for the bleeding soldier. Snatching a dagger from his chest holster, she stabbed it into his chest. His arms dropped from his broken nose to the weapon's handle. The glasses slipped off his face, falling to the ground.

         
Alexia's mouth slackened. "Your eyes," she breathed.

         
His face contorted into a mask of rage and he shoved her backward. Although she stumbled, she regained her footing in time to see him charging toward her. Reflexively, Alexia shot out her leg, landing a side kick on the dagger, driving it deeper. Markov flew back. However, instead of landing on the ledge, he tumbled over it.

         
Panting, Alexia scooted toward the edge, wanting to make sure he didn't dangle from an outcropping below, she scooted toward the edge. Keeping her arms in front of her, fists tight, elbows tucked close to her body, she peeked over. Only blackness and the faint churning of the ocean lay below.

         
A rock trickled down the cliff wall behind her. The second soldier, she thought, pivoting about. Frantic, her gaze darted to where she'd laid him out on his back. He was gone. Panic and worry washed over her. Questions rolled over and over in her mind. Without stopping to work them out, she ran back into the catacomb. She had to warn her mother.

         
DECLAN DIDN'T EVEN TRY to catch himself when the soldiers tossed him back in the cell and slammed the door. Not that he felt his flesh and bone slamming the ground anyway. His insides blistered and throbbed from the liquid silver they'd pumped into his veins. Every nucleus of every cell in his body vibrated in sharp pain. Declan writhed on the floor before slumping upon it in defeat, letting his cheek sink against the rough surface. Blood rushed to his head and his throat closed. Grunting, he sipped a breath between his lips, crying out at the flood of anguish that washed through him anew.

         
Great, now even breathing hurt.

         
He choked, and almost blacked out, would have blacked out if Lotharus's voice had not cut through the pain-induced haze blanketing him.

         
"Did he crack?" Lotharus asked, his voice low and commanding.

         
"No, sir," the soldier replied. "He's got a strong mind. We've learned nothing from him."

         
"Then drag him out of there until we do."

         
"But sir, we used the silver injection on him."

         
At the memory, Declan's veins burned and a moan slid past his lips. "So?"

         
"Well, he's unconscious."

         
"He sounds awake to me," Lotharus countered.

         
"Awake, yes. Responsive, no."

         
The jangle of keys sounded in the room, followed by the shuffle of steps ushering closer to the cell door.

         
"With all due respect, if you want to kill him then string him up and continue to beat him. But if you want that crystal, you have to be patient."

         
"I do not need you to tell me how to do my job, Ivan. In case you've forgotten, you'd still be a mindless drone if not for me."

         
"I--I," the soldier floundered. "Yes, sir. I meant no offense. I'm only saying, breaking a mind such as his takes time."

         
"Well, time is something I don't have!" Lotharus let out a curse. "I need that stone. The ascension is tomorrow."

         
The soldier grunted words Declan couldn't decipher as a new spike of pain wedged between his eyes in a dull throb. He gritted his teeth against the pain, straining to hear the vampire's next words.

         
"...and the Queen's daughter? You know what happened at the cliff tonight." The tone of his voice rose as if he'd asked a question, and Declan fought hard to stay awake, stay conscious. To find out what had happened to Alexia.

         
"Of course," Lotharus spat. "I heard firsthand when the soldier came to me on his knees, begging for his life."

         
"And did you spare him?"

         
"Are you mad? Because of him, we now have no way of knowing what Alexia may have seen. What she might have learned from Markov before she killed him."

         
Declan groaned. Alexia killed a soldier tonight? At the thought, a new current of agony moved through him. Something big was going down, something bigger than anything Declan or his flock had anticipated. He had no idea what it could be yet. All he knew was Alexia was in danger.

         
"We must keep her cloistered until the ascension ceremony tomorrow. I can't afford her going after the crystal on her own. Or worse, telling the Queen anything."

         
"I'll keep my eye on her," the soldier stated.

         
"You?" Lotharus said with a laugh. "I think not. I will keep the princess...occupied until tomorrow."