Shadow of the Vampire (38 page)

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Authors: Meagan Hatfield

BOOK: Shadow of the Vampire
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Tallon put her hand on her chest, realizing that having just sex with just Griffon may just have been the biggest mistake of her life.

CHAPTER TWENTY

         
ALEXIA STEPPED OUT from behind the closet wall. Her long hair was still damp from her shower. The soft scent of her, clean and feminine, tweaked Declan's nose and made his cock stir. Gritting his teeth, Declan crossed his arms over his chest and turned. Hoping that if he couldn't see her he would be able to control this new level of lust coursing through him since they'd mated. However, he came face-to-face with her bed. The bed where they'd just...

         
Releasing a groan, he turned back around.

         
He watched her hitch a booted foot on the counter. With practiced precision, she began securing gun holster straps around her thigh. A flood of saliva washed his mouth at the sight of her creamy legs. Legs he could still feel wrapped around his waist as he'd bucked inside her heat.

         
The black miniskirt she wore barely grazed the sumptuous curve of her bottom. The calf-high boots sported what had to be at least five-inch heels. Despite her usual preference for leather and constricting corsets, tonight she wore nothing but a simple, long-sleeved black cardigan that draped in a low-cut V to the single clasp at her cleavage, revealing what looked like miles and miles of pale flesh.

         
"You're going to fight Lotharus," he said, lifting a brow, "in that?"

         
The corner of her lips curved briefly before they thinned. She smacked a cartridge of rounds into her Glock and slid the pistol in the holder alongside her outer thigh. "I don't plan on getting close enough to get dirty."

         
Declan took a deep breath and stared at the floor. The abject pain he'd felt when he'd thought her dead, the overwhelming sense of loss, pricked his conscious again at just the idea of anything happening to her. Gods, he knew with absolute conviction he would not survive losing her again.

         
"Don't think I can do it?"

         
At her question, he looked up and forced a smile. "No." He uncrossed his arms and stepped to her, taking both of her hands in his. "I know you can. But it's going to be dangerous, Alex. I've only read about what that crystal is capable of. There are so many variables."

         
Alexia squeezed his hand tight. "All we have to do is get the crystal from Lotharus and destroy it. Together we can do this. I know it."

         
"But you're still weak, not fully changed, not as strong as you will be."

         
Alexia pulled back, her eyes wide. "What do you mean, changed?"

         
"Alexia, you were nearly dead when I found you." He swallowed. "I was too late."

         
A tiny disbelieving laugh bubbled out of her. "That's absurd. I'm here. Now."

         
"Only because I fed you my blood."

         
Her blond brows drew closer. "But I've drank from you before."

         
The statement sounded more like a question and Declan dreaded giving her the answer. This was what his father had told him about, the clawing guilt and agony of playing a god when you were just a man. He'd given her life, yes. But was it one she wanted? Did she want to be by his side? Did she want to be Queen of the dragons instead of the horde?

         
"This is different," he said on an exhale.

         
Seconds felt like minutes until she finally spoke. "What are you trying to tell me?"

         
"Alexia, you're...changing. It's already begun."

         
A flame of panic fired behind her eyes, morphing their newfound color to a deep ruby. "Into what?"

         
Oh, gods. "One of us."

         

         
THE MINUTE A LEXIA heard the words fall from his lips she knew them to be true. Although she couldn't pinpoint it before, she felt different inside. As if that always present, always gnawing darkness that lived inside her for so long had been filled with light.

         
She glanced back at Declan and her heart throbbed painfully. He looked stricken, like he hung on her words, waiting for the hatchet to fall. Waiting for her to scream at him, and for what? Saving her life?

         
Alexia walked into his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, pulling him tight. Placing her lips to his ear, she took a deep breath, drawing in the unique and intoxicating essence that was all him.

         
"Thank you for saving me," she whispered.

         
A shudder moved through his body. His big shoulders tensed. And then his arms slid around her waist, strong and firm, and her head buried in the crook of his neck. He released a breath, as if he'd been holding it in since he'd told her what he'd done.

         
At the feel of his embrace, a tremor of joy, of happiness, of completeness rushed through her, making her smile and hug him tighter. His palm cupped the back of her head and her body bowed into him, arcing into the space between their bodies, filling it. The heat from his other hand radiated through her cardigan, seeping across her lower belly.

         
Goddess, this was what she'd craved. What she'd wished for all her life and only experienced now. Contact, utter, true and uncontrollable. And now there was nothing to keep them away from each other. Instead of destined to be apart, they now had every reason to be together. They could be together. Alexia smiled, her gaze catching on her reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. At first, she hardly recognized herself. No longer did she appear depressed, lonely or sad. Instead the woman staring back her glowed with confidence, life and love.

         
Love.

         
It hit her then that she'd never told him. Never said the words aloud.

         
"Declan," she said, pulling back slightly. His head lifted, his cobalt eyes staring into hers with intensity that nearly stole her breath. "I--" she began.

         
"Shh." A finger on her lips silenced her. Although a frown tightened her brow, he did nothing but smile. Then his hand moved to her cheek and his lips replaced his finger. Slow and sensual, his mouth slid against hers, their mouths mating as their bodies just had.

         
"Promise you'll tell me later," he said when they parted.

         
Alexia smiled. "I promise."

         

         
DECLAN FOLLOWED A LEXIA through the maze of the catacomb, even though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew which way to go. All dragons could use mind speak when in animal form. But their connection was a melding of two hybrids and grew stronger with each passing day, making him wonder if one day he'd be able to read her thoughts.

         
Alexia led them to a wide cavern, much like the one where Lotharus had held the ascension ceremony. At the memory, fire burned behind Declan's throat. He damped it down. He'd be able to use it soon enough. They bent at the waist, hiding behind a shelf of rocks. Peering out the windowless stone opening, Declan realized they were in some sort of crude amphitheater. On the ground below, there appeared to be a stage with seating all around. The level where he and Alexia hid resembled balcony boxes, each one a pocketful of armed soldiers.

         
"There are a hundred of them at least," he heard himself say aloud.

         
"All we have to do is stop one," Alexia replied, nodding toward the lower level.

         
Tipping his gaze back to the stage, he noticed Lotharus sat on what Declan assumed to be the Queen's throne, addressing his soldiers. Although he wore no crown to proclaim his new position in the horde, the staff propped at his side caught Declan's eye. It looked similar to one he'd seen in an auld text. More specifically, the scroll Doc had showed him that contained their knowledge of the dark age. Atop the polished wood staff sat the stone. Its multifaceted surface reflected the candlelight illuminating the cavern. The normally transparent crystal now burned a soft orange and blue. While delicate, the center appeared dark and angry, as if forged of fire, glinting like an opal when bowed to the light.

         
"He has the crystal with him."

         
Alexia tilted her head, trying to get a look at him from over the lip of the rock. "How can you be sure?"

         
"It's there, on top of the staff." He motioned toward it.

         
A woman passed in front of Lotharus, a tray of gob lets in her hands. Declan's gaze followed her, his eyes zeroing in on a strange mark on the side of her throat.

         
"What is that symbol?"

         
Alexia looked at him, following his line of sight to the female. "It's a symbol of our horde. Each pureborn colonist comes into this world with one."

         
He cocked a brow. "You don't have one."

         
The corner of her lips twisted in a coy smile. "The royal bloodline has a different kind of mark."

         
She lifted a hand, sweeping her long curtain of hair over her shoulder, revealing her long neck. When she turned her back to him and put her chin on her chest, he saw it.

         
"A Lunel," he said. Four crescent moons faced each other, their points hung like fangs. The mark was so intricate he couldn't believe it was natural and not a tattoo.

         
Pictures flipped in his mind of Lotharus over her, taking her. Declan clamped down his jaw, slamming down the violent, blinding urge to kill and focusing on what the vision was showing him. The Lunel. He saw the mark, had seen it the first time he had the dream, only he was too blindsided by his anger to notice.

         
It struck him why Lotharus had taken her the way he did. It was never about her. It was about the throne, about power.

         
Tunneling his hand in her hair, Declan bent, searing his lips on the mark. She sighed and relaxed back against him.

         
"Only the women born of the royal bloodline have this mark," she said with a sigh. "Everyone else bears two crescent moons to show they are part of our horde."

         
"On their neck?"

         
She shook her head. "It can be anywhere."

         
"Has a child ever been born without a mark?"

         
Alexia shrugged. "If they were, I would imagine they would be kept hidden or sent away. Lotharus is unwavering in his mission to keep our kind pure. I shudder to think of what he may have done." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "In fact, there was talk years ago about a child. A female heir to the throne born of my uncle, Yuri..."

         
She paused, her eyes widening before she clutched his forearm. "Declan, the vision."

         
"What vision."

         
"There was a child born to the royal family, my royal family. A female child, daughter to my uncle and de scent of the Queen's line. Declan, I have to--"

         
A great uproar shook the cavern walls, cutting her words short. Peering over the ledge, Declan swept his gaze across the room, trying to discover the source of the sudden mayhem. It didn't take long.

         
"What is it?"

         
"More women."

         
Alexia scooted close enough to look down at the scene. Shackled women of various ages were being led into the den. They wore what looked like burlap sacks, some frayed and split at the bottom. Each carried a tray of food in toward the unruly soldiers.

         
"That bastard."

         
Declan looked over at her. The smooth line of her jaw tensed in anger and her hands bit into the stone.

         
"Do your women not serve the men?"

         
Her eyes met his and his breath caught. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get used to those breathtaking eyes. A frown tensed his brow when he realized he hadn't even told her they were a different color, and he wondered briefly if she even knew.

         
"Women are revered. Women rule. They do not serve, especially not the men. Pureborns know this," she said on a strained breath. "This barbaric depravity is all Lotharus's doing. Only his soldiers dare degrade the women like this," she said with a nod, sliding her gaze back to Lotharus.

         
Declan reached out, his hand covering hers. "You sound ready to stop him."

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