I'll Be Slaying You

Careful now, because he’d heard Catalina’s last words to her. Not that he’d let that come to pass. “I think Grim sealed his fate a long time ago.”

Her hand pressed against his chest. “And what about your parents? Did killing Grim bring you peace?”

“Not peace.” Never that. “But justice.”

She gave a slow nod. “Justice. It still feels empty.” Her lip began to tremble then. Tough Dee, who could face down a Born and send him to the devil with a grin. “I’d rather have just had…them.”

The woman was breaking his heart. He tucked her head against his chest and held her as the water poured. “I know.”

He let her cry. The tears she’d kept inside over the years. The tears she’d stopped shedding once she began fighting.

When the tears finally stopped, he lifted her and carried her to the shower. It was time to wash away the pain and the past.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time for them to begin again.

They didn’t talk in the shower. Simon stripped and joined her. The water beat on them and washed away the blood and the battle.

And they didn’t talk.

He carried her to the bedroom, put her in the middle of the bed.

The water glistened on her skin and her eyes, so very dark, met his.

Then she parted her legs.

He came down beside her, putting a stranglehold on his need. This time wouldn’t be about heat and desperation.

This time, he’d give her something more.

Because that’s what she’d given him.

His lips touched hers. A light, fleeting kiss. Simple. Soft.

His fingers trailed over her body. Caressed her breasts, the nipples that hardened beneath his fingers.

“I want to forget.” Her whisper.

The first thing she’d said.

His cock, fully swollen and thick with need, pressed against her leg. Forgetting—fleeting. The memories would come back. They always did. But he’d give her this.

Hell, he’d give her anything she wanted.

He wouldn’t rush. Because he needed, too. Her taste…

He kissed his way down her neck. Licked the scars from her past battle. Tasted her nipples and sucked her flesh into his mouth. She twisted beneath him, rising and pulling in a quick breath.

And, finally, finally, the scent of her arousal began to fill the air.

Because he’d never take her when she didn’t want him.

His fingers slipped between her parted thighs, found the hot flesh, and eased into her.

This was what he wanted.

Her eyes turned to black.

He licked a path down her stomach. Blew lightly over the blond curls that hid her pink flesh.

“Simon…”

He’d always liked the way she said his name, especially when she wanted him. That hitch, the way the end of his name sounded like a moan on her lips.

He put his mouth against her. Took her cream on his tongue and tasted her flesh.

Her hips arched against him, a helpless jerk of her body. His tongue slipped over her clit. Her gasp filled his ears.

When her fingers sank into his hair, he knew she wanted more. Wanted harder. Faster.

Wanted to come.

“Not yet.” He said the words against her sex and she shuddered. The pleasure wouldn’t be fleeting. Not for either of them. It was time she learned that.

His lips closed around the swollen button of her desire, and he sucked, using lips and tongue to give and to take.

Her moan broke.

He gave to her, slowly. Learning every curve. Exploring her flesh. His tongue drove into her and her legs shook. He licked her. Lapped at her and wanted more.

Everything.

“Simon, I’m going to come!”

No. Not yet.

He eased back and his fingers worked her flesh. Drawing out the release, making the desire build with soft strokes and deep plunges of his fingers.

His cock twitched. The need for her was so fierce he burned.

Bite.

The bloodlust was there, as it always was, because he didn’t just want her body. He wanted her blood. Her heart.

Everything.

And he would have it.

She twisted against the sheets. The water had dried from her skin and her breasts thrust up against him.

So pretty. So perfect.

He caught her nipple with his mouth. Sucked deep and hard.

She squirmed beneath him.

Not about forgetting any longer. About them.

She’d remember that.

One last lick, and he lifted his head. Her eyes had gone blind with need and black with desire.

He positioned his cock against her slick heat. Pushed the head inside, just a few inches.

Waited.

Her gaze met his.

Simon caught her hands. He threaded his fingers through hers and pinned her against the mattress.

He took her then. Thrust deep and sure and felt the sensual heat of her sex around him.

His teeth clenched and he reined in the beast—tried to, anyway.

Her legs wrapped around him, and her ankles dug into his ass.

More. There, in her eyes. What she wanted—

He withdrew. Thrust deep. Again and again. The bed rocked. Their bodies trembled, but he took his time and he took his pleasure.

And made damn sure she took hers.

Bite.

He didn’t look at her neck. Didn’t take his gaze from hers. This time would be different. It had to be.

Her sex squeezed him and the telltale ripple had his spine tingling.

He thrust harder. Faster. The control began to disappear, and the need, that blind, consuming need, had his breath heaving and his hips surging.

She came, the contractions of her sex making his own climax erupt as he pumped into her. The long, hot wave blasted through him, into her, and the pleasure stole his breath.

Still he thrust. Even as his cock jerked and he climaxed inside her, he thrust.

Harder, but slower. Deeper.

His fingers tightened around hers.

She whispered his name.

And came again.

Sweet fucking hell.

Yeah, he’d die for this woman. In a heartbeat.

They began to gather in the darkness. First, just a few. Two. Then three. They came together silently as they felt the psychic snap of the old connection.

The bond was gone. The Born dead.

One there knew his killer. A vampire who’d seen the woman kill Grim.

Vengeance?

A life for a life?

Slowly, the others came. Humans once. Killers, monsters now.

They waited.

More would come.

Chapter 17

“Why didn’t you ask me about the asshole in the alley?” Dee forced her head to lift at Simon’s question. Really, she just wanted to lay there, her head pillowed on his chest, and listen to the steady beat of his heart. But maybe they needed to go ahead and have this, um, little talk.

She met his stare and her shoulders tensed a bit as she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought you’d run from me or try to stake me if you knew the truth.”

“The truth?” One eyebrow rose. “You mean the fact that you paid a killer to shoot me—”

“I paid him to miss.”

She knew that, but…“Can’t really trust guys like that, you know. Sometimes, they’ll take your money and shoot whoever they want.”

His fingers trailed down her back and rested at the base of her spine. “That’s why I made sure I was between you and the gun, every single moment.” His jaw hardened. “You know what happened to him.”

Actually, no, she didn’t know that part. She wasn’t some kind of all seeing, walking, talking crystal ball. All she’d had were glimpses. Snatches of conversation. His memories. The few that had filtered through the blood link. What became of Mr. Trigger Happy, she had no idea. So she just stared back at Simon and waited.

“There wasn’t a choice, Dee. He forced my hand.”

Ah, one of those stories that wasn’t going to end well.

“Frankie came after me, okay? He shot me in the back and would have killed me—”

“Wait.” Her eyes narrowed. “Frankie?” The guy’s face flashed before her eyes. Broad features. Balding hair. “Frankie Lee?” She should have put those pieces together sooner.

“Yeah.”

She whistled and drummed her fingers on his chest. “Went big-time slumming, huh?” Word on the street was that Frankie would shoot his own mother—and, actually, had—for a quick grand.

“He came after me,” Simon repeated, his face tense. “There wasn’t a choice.”

Silence for a moment, then Dee ventured, “I’m guessing old Frankie won’t be taking any more hits.”

His palm pressed harder against her back. “I swear I didn’t pay him to kill you. I wouldn’t have done that!”

“But you didn’t even know me then. I was just a hunter to you, another—”

“You were everything.” Rasped. His eyes blazed at her. “You still are.”

What did a woman say to that? Dee pulled away from him and reached for the sheet. She just needed to cover up, to take a second to think.

He grabbed her wrist. “You don’t want to hear about how I feel, do you? Too damn bad, babe.” His thumb rubbed over her pulse point. “You know I came after you because I thought you’d take down Grim.”

And she had. A point for the good guys. Well, semi–good guys, anyway. “I know you wanted to be free, you’ve already—”

“I wanted you. Want you.” Simon shook his head. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted you.”

Fair enough. She’d wanted to jump him, too. He’d tackled her; she’d wanted to return the favor.

“I thought it was just lust, Dee. That I could take you, enjoy you, and walk away.”

Kind of hard not to flinch at that one. With her left hand, she jerked the sheet up to her chin. Simon held tight to her right wrist. “So you were using me for sex and death?” Grim’s death. No getting around she’d been a means to an end there. But she’d thought there might be more. He’d made her think that.

I’ll fucking love you forever.

Say it again.

But now the guy wasn’t talking rose petals and sunsets.

“I knew I was lost.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the flesh of her palm. “When you died in my arms.”

Okay, she definitely flinched. Not her best memory.

“I wanted to change you. You were dying in front of me, and I knew you were supposed to be a Born. Catalina had told me about you.”

Had she really thanked the witch properly for that? Nah. She hadn’t let Cat know how much she appreciated the woman’s secrecy. Payback, um, gratitude would come eventually.

“You weren’t going to stay dead.”

Who did these days?

“You weren’t supposed to stay dead,” he amended. “But I was shit-scared and when your eyes closed, I wanted to change you.”

Her heart stilled at that.

“I wanted it so fucking much.” Another hot kiss against her palm.

“But you didn’t try.” No bite. No exchange of blood.

“No.” His breath blew against her flesh. “Because if I was wrong about you, if the witch and that damn seer were wrong, I wasn’t about to make you into the thing you hated.”

And she had hated the idea of vampirism. Becoming a vampire had once been her worst nightmare. Strange, because now, things all seemed so different.

“If you were dying, I wasn’t going to make you come back to me. That was the hardest thing I ever did.” His lips thinned. “Watching you die and not knowing if you’d ever open your eyes again.”

The last thing she’d seen had been him. “You left me.” The words came out as an accusation and she realized that, yeah, that had bothered her. No matter what was going on between them, no matter what secrets he’d kept—and she’d known there were secrets even then—she’d expected him to stay with her.

“I thought I was the last person you’d want to see.”

He’d been the one she wanted the most.

“I knew you needed time to adjust. Seeing me…I was afraid it would push you too much.” His gaze held hers. “But then you came to me.”

Sex.

Blood.

So much hunger.

“You weren’t afraid of me,” he said.

“I was afraid of myself.” A stark confession, one she should have given sooner. “I didn’t want to become—”

Like Grim.

Like Leo.

Like so many of the others she’d taken down over the years.

Not a monster. She hadn’t wanted to be a woman ruled by the bloodlust and lost to humanity.

“You have the control, Dee. You’re not going to turn and start killing innocents.” He freed her hand and rose, moving slowly away from her. “That’s not going to happen with you. There’s no Born to take over your mind. No one to force you. There’s just…you.”

It had been just her for years. Maybe she was tired of that. She wrapped the sheet around her body. “So what happens now?” Did she go back to Night Watch? Keep hunting? While he—what? Got the hell out of town as fast as he could?

Just…you.

She’d be left alone? Again?

Only this time, she wouldn’t be looking at a few empty years before her. She’d be looking at forever.

Without him.

Shit. When had the vampire started to mean so much? Because she couldn’t breathe without tasting him. She wanted his touch, his mouth, his blood. Him. Always him.

“Pity we didn’t meet before,” she whispered. What would life have been like?

She glanced over, saw him hauling on a pair of jeans. He froze at her words, then gritted, “I wish to hell we had.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">