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Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)

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“Are we sharing excerpts from our diaries now? Do you want to tell me why you picked me, the girl who stabbed you? And don’t give me that bullshit about my owing you.” She was breathing heavily, blood rushing through her veins.

She was like a lick of flame, and he was the kindling. Touch her again … kiss her … taste her … He leaned down, needing her, desperate, lost—

“McKell,” she rasped. “Answer.”

He straightened with a jerk, then stepped away. They hadn’t so much as brushed against each other, but his skin was sizzling again. All over. If he wasn’t careful, he would be on her.

“No, we are not going to share our diary excerpts now. We’re going to leave.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s go.”

Ava followed McKell through the winding hallways of her building, painfully aware of the plain gray walls, the scratches in the metal and brick, the dirt staining the concrete floors, and then outside, into the cooling night air. Garbage bags lined the sidewalks. Pickup was tomorrow. The scents of rotting food wafted, among other indelicate things, and her cheeks heated.

Doesn’t matter. This was home. He could deal.

Where the hell was he going, anyway? He was still shirtless, that bone necklace clanging with his every step, and people were staring. Male, female, didn’t matter. The males recognized a threat, and the females spotted possible prey. Unable to stop herself, Ava hissed at them all.

Finally, in front of a nearby alley, he settled and crooked his finger at a woman across the street. The woman was alone, carrying two grocery bags, but that didn’t dissuade her from crossing the street as if in a trance. Maybe she was. The bastard had powers Ava hadn’t known about. He’d told her to place her hand in his, and she hadn’t been able to prevent herself from doing so.

If he had told her to stab herself, she would have done that, too.

He was far more dangerous than she’d realized. Far sexier, too.

When he’d told her—so superiorly—that he was hungry, she’d wanted to jump up on the table and become his buffet. All you can eat. To have all that power at her fingertips … demanding everything … Oh, yes. Far more dangerous.

Power was an aphrodisiac to Ava. And the thought of people seeing them together, thinking she had been the one female to tame him, to gentle him, God, it was tempting. The pride she would feel … the respect she would gain, she might never know it’s equal.

The shame, too. She wouldn’t have tamed him, gentled him. No one would ever be able to do so. And he was a criminal, she reminded herself. A target of AIR. If she needed the reminder a thousand times, she’d issue the reminder a thousand and one. She didn’t need her coworkers laughing at her, telling her how easy she was. Even though the females would be jealous. No question.

Joking with Noelle about nailing him, fine. But forever being labeled the agent who slept with her targets? No, thank you. She’d told herself that before, but the possibility hadn’t been as … imminent then. He’d stood in front of her, the bed behind her, desire heating her up, and she’d again fought the urge to offer herself to him. However he wanted her.

Only thing that had stopped her then was the thought that he would reduce her to a meal. A walking cup of joe. Nothing more, nothing less. The way he’d sneered about the pizza delivery boy … his disdain for “food” had never been clearer, and it had been pretty clear before. Her hands fisted.

“You better not kill her,” Ava gritted out.

“Believe me. She’ll love what I do.”

“Braggart.” Bastard. And if the bitch tried for anything more than a one-way transfusion, she’d lose her tongue. Tongue necklaces were probably a lot prettier than finger necklaces.

“I spoke only the truth.”

Shouldn’t he demand that Ava feed him? she wondered again.

I thought you wanted to be more than a food source.

She did. That didn’t mean he shouldn’t fight for her capitulation. Not that she’d give it. But if anyone was going to love something McKell did, it should be Ava. He owned her room and board. Well, maybe not board. Now, though, she couldn’t protest what he was about to do. She’d seem weak; he’d realize how close she was—no, had been—to giving in. She was stronger now. Really.

The woman reached him, and he tugged her deep into the alley, his gaze detached. Ava followed, studying. The woman was taller than her by several inches, though dressed just as plainly in jeans and a white T-shirt. She had blond hair, cut to frame her pointed chin. Sharp cheekbones, a blade of a nose. Pretty, in an aristocratic kind of way.

Did McKell favor that kind of look?

“You shouldn’t come when a man summons you,” Ava snapped at her. Just to be helpful, as she often was. It had nothing to do with raging jealousy. “That kind of makes you a dog.”

The woman paid her no attention. “Hi,” she said to McKell, her voice sultry and inviting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

McKell backed her up against the brick wall, and Ava’s jaw clenched. “Bags,” he said.

The woman placed her bags at her feet and straightened. McKell gripped her shoulders and swung her around, so that he faced Ava. His fangs were so long they gapped over his bottom lip. They were so white they practically glittered. Ava gulped as her belly quivered.

“I’m going to drink from you, and you’re going to let me,” he said. His gaze never left Ava. “Afterward, you’ll leave me without looking back and never recall what was done.”

There was that powerful voice, washing over her, causing goose bumps to form on her skin. Her needy, sensitive, aching skin. And somehow, she knew that rubbing all over him was the only way to assuage that ache.

“Yes,” the woman said on a happy sigh. Her head tilted to the side. “Yes.”

Still McKell’s gaze remained on Ava as he descended, as those teeth sank deep, as his lips moved, as he sucked and sucked and sucked. She expected his hands—those big, gorgeous hands—to caress the woman, but his grip on her shoulders never even loosened.

Did the female taste better than Ava? Was McKell enjoying himself? She crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped her foot.

“Sometime today,” she muttered.

He growled like a caged animal.

Moonlight caressed him, and his violet eyes began to glow. So purple, so beautiful. So hypnotic, dragging her down, drowning her in waves of that neediness. The emerald swirled there, too, and became her lifeline, reminding her of where she was, who she was, who he was, and their purpose. Feeding him.

Me, me, me. My turn. He really was too beautiful for his own good, she thought, disgusted with herself. Most likely, no woman had ever resisted him. But all that superiority, all that disdain … no way. Good. Another reminder. Ava couldn’t even make things work with guys who worshipped her. There was no way she’d be able to make things work with McKell. Not that she wanted to make things work with him.

Having him inside her apartment all the time, messing things up, expecting her to call and check in. No, no, and no. Which was why she was happy as a commitment-phobe.

Despite her admiration for male power, she liked to be in control of her own life, liked her things where she left them, liked having no one to answer to, and there was nothing wrong with that.

But what about McKell? What did he like? How many girlfriends had he had? Had he ever been in love with a vampire? A human?

Finally, he released the woman.

She stumbled backward, eyes glazed, hand fluttering to her neck. “Oh, my,” she said with a laugh. “Thank you.” Then she gathered her bags and sauntered off, as if nothing had happened. As ordered, she never once looked back.

McKell, too, stumbled back, though the brick wall stopped him from going too far. He stood there a minute, panting, eyes closing, skin … paling?

Ava frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Her blood must have been poisoned. The first few sips were good, but after that … and now my stomach hurts.”

“Wait. Poisoned how?”

“I don’t know.” Without any more warning, he hunched over and vomited.

Ava spun, giving him as much privacy as she could. Over and over he retched. Maybe she was as cruel and wicked as her mother had always said, because a part of her was glad that woman’s blood wouldn’t be flowing through his veins all night.

“This ever happened before?” she asked.

“A few times,” he said, spitting. “Lately.”

Great. Maybe he was sick, rather than poisoned. But just how did one find out? Human doctors, even otherworlder doctors, had never dealt with vampires.

First things first. “Better?”

“Yes, but still hungry.”

Nothing she could do about that just yet. She didn’t want him vomiting her blood, too. “Just … stay here, okay.”

He protested, but was too weak to follow as she raced to the pharmacy two blocks away. There she bought him an “Our Meds Are Best” T-shirt and a bottle of mouthwash. She was huffing and sweating by the time she returned, but he was exactly where she’d left him.

“By the way, you owe me twenty-seven forty-eight,” she told him, handing him both items.

“And you owe me a meal.” He tugged on the shirt. The material was tight, straining against his biceps. He should have looked ridiculous, but just looked sweeter, as if he didn’t take himself too seriously.

She tucked his necklace under the collar, and he used the mouthwash, rising several times for several minutes. While he couldn’t speak, she said, “I owe you? Really? I came with you to find someone. I stood by silent and patient while you ate. So how is your lack of sustenance my fault?”

He spit the final mouthful onto the already filthy concrete and glared down at her. “I don’t know. It just is.”

Irrational shit. “You sound like Noelle.”

“Then we’re now best friends?” he asked drily. “Finally, I can die a happy man.”

At least his warped sense of humor had returned. “Let’s be honest. We’re hardly friends at all. I mean, I can barely stand you.” Okay, that was harsh, even for her. There was no time to apologize, though. Fine. There was time; she simply opted not to use it. She could still picture his teeth inside that woman’s vein.

His eyes narrowed, but not enough to hide the challenge suddenly banked there. “You like me. I know it.”

She tried not to shiver. “What makes you so sure?”

“I’m strong, courageous, and handsome. What’s not to like?”

I like. “You just described about a thousand people I know.”

He chomped his teeth at her. “Yes, but none are vampires.”

And were therefore unworthy? Hello, renewed superiority. “Fangs do not make the man, you know.” Before he could reply, before she could start shivering again, she added, “So where are we going to round up those other vampires?” The sooner their association ended, the sooner the madness ended.

“I can’t round anyone up until I eat.”

“What if the next human is … poisoned?” What she really wanted to say: what if you’re too sick to keep anyone down?

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I don’t know.”

“Look. Just tell me where to go and what to do. You can return to my apartment, rest, rejuvenate, whatever, and I’ll bag and tag you a vampire.” Boom. Done.

“No!” As his denial echoed between them, his violet irises once again glowed. “Promise me you will never chase a vampire without me.”

Great. They weren’t even in a relationship, and he was already issuing orders. “Why?”

He splayed his arms, as if he were the last sane man and dealing with a roomful of senseless women. “Because I said.”

“Oh, well, in that case … fuck you. Find me when you grow a brain.” She gave him a pinkie wave and a smile and turned away, then strode out of the shadows and onto the moonlit sidewalk. Like his meal, she never glanced back.

Thankfully, he followed, and was soon keeping pace at her side. “Do you not realize the fire you play with, human? I’m your superior.”

“I knew you felt that way!” No longer was he content to merely hint about it, either.

“Of course you did. I made no secret of the truth. How could I, when it’s so obvious?”

Red suddenly dotted her vision, and she had trouble drawing in a breath. Well, a breath that wasn’t laced with “fire.” She forgot their bargain, forgot that the man had just vomited his guts and might be dying from some horrible vampire sickness. “I’m gonna teach you just how inferior you are, you bastard!”

“Good luck.”

Oh, he would pay for that.

Ava removed the mini-taser she had stored in her back pocket and jammed it into his neck. His body vibrated, he struggled to speak, gurgled, and then, when she removed her thumb from the “fry” button, he fell to the ground, twitching.

Ava kept walking.

Nine

She had a temper. He knew that. His fault for forgetting.

Volts of electricity continued to pass through McKell, even though Ava had removed the weapon. His muscles convulsed, locking onto bones, and he could only sit there, immobile, as humans avoided him and Ava increased the distance between them.

If she thought she could escape him, she would soon learn the impossibility of such a task. She would never be able to escape him. He would always be able to find her. He knew her scent, her taste, the essence of her branded into his every cell.

But that wasn’t the only reason he would forever be able to find her. His teeth gnashed together as he contemplated the truth. He’d thrown up a meal. Again. And even while drinking from the strange human female, he’d been hungry for Ava. Had almost tossed the woman aside and leapt at her, just to have that curvy body near him, his hands all over her, his teeth—or any part of him—inside her. His possession evident to her, to the world.

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