Devoured by Darkness
Page 3Too sleepy for most vampires, but Tane preferred the peace. A bitter smile twisted his lips. And most vampires preferred him to remain in his self-imposed isolation.
Few were comfortable in the presence of a Charon.
Not that Tane allowed their prejudice to bother him. He’d become an executioner of rogue vampires for a reason. And that reason hadn’t changed.
Would never change.
Almost as if to mock his assurance he was alone in the darkness, Tane stiffened and tested the late spring air. What the hell? There were vamps in the area.
Not that he was afraid. He possessed a greater power than most clan chiefs, although he refused to endure the trials necessary to claim the title. And there were few of his brothers stupid enough to annoy their Anasso. Styx would be severely pissed off to discover one of his precious Charons had been killed.
But he’d left Laylah alone and helpless in the tunnels.
He’d be damned if any other vampire was going to get his fangs, or anything else, in her.
With a blinding speed he was entering the nearest farmhouse, a two-story white home with a wraparound porch and gingham curtains.
He paused long enough to determine there was nothing more terrifying than the humans sleeping upstairs and an aging hound who had knocked over the trash and was happily chewing on a bone, before entering the house and pillaging the refrigerator, tossing a number of leftovers into a bag he found underneath the sink. He added in milk and several bottles of water, before turning and leaving as silently as he had arrived.
Like the Grinch.
Only with fangs.
With equal speed he returned to the tunnels and to the cave where he had left Laylah. Empty. Of course.
Dropping his bag he followed her trail, easily finding her in the adjoining cave. For a minute he watched in disbelief as she crawled toward the entrance to the tunnels on her hands and knees, her entire body drenched in sweat.
“Dammit.” Striding forward, he leaned down and snatched her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he retraced his steps. “What are you doing?”
She managed a glare, but she couldn’t disguise her growing weakness.
“Looking for a portal to Narnia.” She futilely attempted to wriggle from his arms. “Where are they when you need one?”
“Stop it,” he snapped, his eyes narrowing as they rested on the sluggishly healing cut on her forehead. She obviously had smacked it on the ground in her ridiculous bid for freedom. “You hurt yourself.”
“It’s your fault,” she muttered.
“Typical female logic.”
She narrowed her gaze as he gently lowered her back onto the ground and moved to retrieve the bag. Tane drew in the musty air of the cavern, hoping to dilute the potent scent of her fresh blood.
His entire body was clenched with a clawing hunger. As if it had been centuries and not mere days since he’d had sex.
What was it about this female?
Everything about her turned him on. From the ridiculous spiky hair to the tips of her dust-covered toes. And all those tasty spots in between.
“I suppose you think you know all about women?”
He returned to her, crouching at her side with a smile that revealed his extended fangs.
“Enough to make them scream for more.”
“Just kill me,” she muttered, but she could not disguise the rapid flutter of her pulse. He wasn’t alone in the powerful awareness. A damned good thing since he intended to have her naked and beneath him before everything was said and done. “A swift decapitation would be preferable to listening to your gloating.”
His lips twitched. Trapped and weary and obviously terrified she still was spitting like a cornered kitten.
Plucking one of the containers from the bag, he opened it to discover what smelled like chicken and rice and a handful of other human ingredients. “Eat,” he commanded.
She snatched the container from his grasp, using her fingers to scoop the casserole into her mouth. Tane remained silent as he emptied the bag conveniently near her, not wanting to distract her from regaining her strength.
Draining the milk and then the water, she cleaned out two more containers of food before she at last lifted her head to regard him with suspicion.
“Where did it come from?”
He swallowed a growl as she unconsciously licked her fingers clean. “Does it matter?”
Her breath hitched as she easily sensed his savage pang of need. “Stop looking at me like that.”
His fangs throbbed in tempo with the pounding of her heart. “Like what?”
“Like you’re wondering if I’m B positive or A negative.”
“I did go to considerable trouble to bring you dinner,” he husked, his gaze lingering on the vulnerable curve of her neck. “Fair is fair.”
With a sudden shove she was on her feet, danger sparkling in her magnificent eyes.
“If you want my blood you’ll have to fight me for it.”
Tane lifted a brow. She recovered quickly. Already he could detect a color returning to her cheeks and her trembling had ceased.
Still, he knew it would take little effort to knock her flat on her back. A position that he wanted her in with a desperation that was making him hard and aching, but not until she was fully recovered.
“Sit down and finish your food.” He shrugged. “I fed before I left Hannibal.”
She grudgingly sat back down and reached for the chocolate cake.
“I hope they gave you indigestion.”
“Actually she was a tasty morsel.” He leaned forward, allowing the scent of spring rain to wrap around him. “A pity I couldn’t linger. She was eager to offer more than dinner.”
“Feel free to rush back and finish your meal and whatever else you want. Take your time.” She took a large bite of cake, a dab of icing clinging to her lower lip. “In fact, take an eternity.”
Unable to resist temptation, Tane swooped forward, licking the icing off her lip before returning to snare a kiss of pure, unrestrained desire.
He swore as hunger slammed into him with a shocking force. He hadn’t lied when he said he’d fed before entering the cabin in Hannibal, but just having this female near was enough to stir a dangerous craving.
For blood and so much more.
“I could release you, Laylah,” he whispered against her lips.
With enough force to crack a rib she shoved him away, rising to her feet with an expression of panic.
Not that he entirely blamed her.
He wasn’t sure that he shouldn’t be doing his own share of panicking.
He never let his cock rule his head. Not anymore.
But he was beginning to suspect that with the proper incentive this woman could make him sacrifice his own sanity to complete what he just started.
“Great, then I’ll be on my way. Don’t bother to write …”
He flowed to his feet, wrapping his arms around her slender body to prevent her escape.
“And where would you go?”
“Anywhere that’s not here.”
He cupped her chin, forcing her face up to meet his searching gaze. “Caine’s lair is now in the hands of Salvatore.”
She bit her lip, attempting to pretend that she wasn’t shaken by his words.
“You don’t know that for sure.”
He didn’t, of course. But, when he’d left Salvatore in the tunnel with his curs and the aggravating gargoyle, the King of Weres was foaming at the mouth to get his claws into Caine so he could rip out his heart.
And when a furious Were decided to rip out a heart, there were few things that could stop him.
“A cur is no match for a full-blooded Were. Especially when that Were happens to be the King. By now Caine is dead and the rest of the curs are being punished for their treachery.” His hands instinctively skimmed down her back, lingering on the tantalizing curve of her hips. “The moment you try to get near the lair you’ll be captured.”
Distracted by his acute pleasure in having her pressed so tightly against him, Tane was unprepared when she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes darkening with horror.
Shoving out of his arms, she dropped to her knees, her hands pressed together in the universal sign of pleading.
“Please, I beg of you,” she whispered. “Let me go.”
Chapter 2
It wasn’t the first time that Laylah had been on her knees. She had turned begging into an art form during her time in Sergei Krakov’s brutal care.
What the hell did pride matter when the safety of a helpless child was at stake?
“Tane …”
He brought an abrupt end to her plea as he grabbed her arms and jerked her upright, pressing her tight against his body as he whispered directly in her ear.
“Ssh, my sweet. We are no longer alone.”
Laylah stiffened. She’d been so distracted by Tane she’d failed to notice the unmistakable scent that filled the air.
“Vampires.” Her eyes narrowed. “Friends of yours?”
His impossibly beautiful face tightened, a cruel smile curving his lips.
“I don’t have friends.”
“Jeez,” she muttered, pretending that a pang of sympathy didn’t slice through her heart. She was painfully familiar how it felt to go through the world without a soul to care if she was alive or dead. It sucked. “I can’t imagine why not.”
“Stay here.” Releasing her, Tane stepped back to stab her with a warning glare. “And Laylah, when I say stay here I mean stay here. Most of my brethren aren’t interested in your pedigree or turning you over to the Commission.” The honey gaze slid down her slender body exposed by her shorts and tiny, tiny top. “They’ll see you as a beautiful female who can sate more than one of their hungers.”
With fluid grace he had the large dagger in his hand and was gliding silently into the tunnel.
Left alone, Laylah scrubbed her hand through her hair and tried to concentrate.
The food helped her to regain a portion of her strength, but she was still weary. Which meant her powers would be unpredictable.
A very bad thing since they weren’t exactly stable under the best of circumstances.
Did she dare shadow walk?
The talent of moving between dimensions had been a gift from her Jinn ancestors, although she’d discovered the ability quite by accident. She would never forget her terror of suddenly being surrounded in the mists that hovered between worlds. And her even greater terror when she’d managed to free herself from the strange fog to discover she’d traveled halfway around the world.