A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) (29 page)

“Stop this,” she managed through a moan.

He growled in protest, holding her tighter, sucking her harder.

Her plea vanished under a wave of rhapsody.

Then suddenly the weight of him was ripped away, cool air replacing his body heat. She shook her head hard, trying to regain her senses as she relied on the support of the sofa to keep her body from collapsing under her wobbling legs.

The fierce roar of an animal forced her attention to the right.

A massive beast held Knox to the floor by large paws and sharp talons. Their tips dug into his chest, drawing blood. The deeply golden-furred creature was nearly twice his size.

Recognition tugged at the back of her mind, but…it couldn’t be the same mountain lion from before. It snarled out another roar in Knox’s face. Knox growled back, but seemed unable to match the beast’s strength to throw him off.

How the hell had it gotten in here?

The beast swiveled its massive head around and met her stunned gaze with intelligent green eyes.

Impossible
.

“
Meeka?”

The large feline chuffed and turned back to Knox, baring her teeth.

Disbelieving, she peeked into the kitchen, seeing the food she’d left out only half eaten, no cute tiny kitten in sight.

“Holy shit,” she gasped.

Then her mind sharpened into focus.

She had to find Mace.

“Mason!” Cora hollered into the entrance to the underground complex. “Are you in there?”

No response.

Her gaze darted nervously around the cavern. Chills crept along her shoulders. Her palms turned clammy. The thought of reentering that place terrified her, but not as much as the thought of Knox overpowering Meeka and coming after her.

As soon as she crossed the threshold into the first, perfectly constructed room, that familiar, abstract pressure closed in around her. A creaking noise made her jump. Whether real or imaginary, the ceiling bowed at the center. The scream of failing metal beams scraped her ears.

Her pulse jack-hammered, and her already overflowing adrenaline gushed out of control. A dull pain thrummed behind her ribs.

She scrunched her eyes closed painfully tight. Instead of darkness, images of her parent’s demise, her own experience of being trapped for days with their rotting corpses, flashed ruthlessly. Her eyes parted wide, burning with tears.

Brushing aside the crushing terror, she forced her feet forward into the next room. Her breaths shallowed as her lungs reacted poorly to the constricting panic. Still she proceeded, determined. Knox had said Mace was
trapped by his work
, which, to her, meant he was down here, possibly locked in a room—there were so many to search!

As she maneuvered the maze, she called for Mace while chanting to herself that the roof would not come crashing down on her. The rooms seemed to be growing smaller, more confining, the farther she traveled. Mace wasn’t responding to her calls. Had he been knocked out? Was he even down here?

Was he dead?

She pushed that from her mind.

What if this was a trap, orchestrated by Knox. A sick game of chase?

She quickly waved that suspicion away. Knox had already had her where he’d wanted. She’d had no hope of escaping him. He couldn’t have anticipated her sweet little kitten transforming into an oversized predator with fangs larger than his.

Pride briefly overruled claustrophobia.

How long could
Meeka hold him? How long had it been already? Was she going in circles? These rooms all looked the same. Oh goddess! The roof was sinking! Had that been an explosion she’d heard?

Have to get out!

Another explosion sounded, encouraging hysteria. Her boots trampled concrete as she raced back the way she’d come, or the way she thought she had come. Which door had she taken? The one on the right, or the one on the left?

Another explosion sent her to the right.
Then to the left. Oh, goddess! The blasts were becoming louder, the vibration rumbling the entire building!

No. Not a building…

She forced herself to still as harsh gasps of air flooded her burning lungs, her chest heaving. She listened, managing to gulp down a bit of her fear. Her mind cleared, bringing back reality. She wasn’t in the basement of a ten story building about to crash down. She was in a stable underground shelter. And those explosions weren’t explosions at all, but echoes, as if something were striking metal.

Shaking, nearing exhaustion, she followed the no
ise.

Muffled bellows gave her pause.

“Mason!” she screamed, feeling her panic resurface.

The banging ceased.

“Cora?” Mace called, his voice filtered by several thick walls. “Cora! Are you alright?”

“I’m coming. Keep talking.” The explosions were from him banging on metal, nothing more. Her heart eased its pace, though her breaths still came fast.

“Tell me you’re well,” Mace called. His voice was closer now.

“I’m fine,” she lied. She didn’t know how else to answer. “Knox attacked me, but
Meeka’s holding him.”

“Oh, thank god. Did he hurt you? Are you…” There was a long pause. “Did you say
Meeka’s holding him?”

As he spoke, his voice boomed louder than ever, and she halted in the middle of the room she’d entered. He was just on the other side of a metal door to her right that looked like a came straight out of a high-security prison.

She pulled on the barricade, but it didn’t budge. There didn’t appear to be a lock on it. She tried again, harder this time. She thought it moved a little, but couldn’t be sure. It must just require more pressure. She leaned her body into it, braced her feet on the floor, and used all her weight to slide the metal bar to the right. It screeched as it relented. Her body jerked to a stop when the bar had gone as far as it could.

Then she tugged on the door handle just as Mace pushed it open. She sighed with relieve to see him unharmed.

He swept her up in a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured.

He didn’t look convinced. “Tell me what happened.”

“We should hurry back
first. I don’t know how long Meeka can hold out.”

Confusion overtook Mace’s features for a moment. Then he swiftly guided her out of the complex and back into the cottage.

When they entered the living room, Mace paused. Meeka, in her beastly form, still had Knox pinned. Mace was stunned for a long while, his jaw opening as if to speak, but no words came out. 

Knox interrupted his sneering at
Meeka to slide his gaze Cora’s way. Even though he had been disabled, he still managed to look triumphant. Some people were like that, defiant to the very end. She used to admire that trait, now it was just irritating.

As he continued to stare at her, he spoke to Mace. “We’ve squared a few things away, she and I.
Though we didn’t have a chance to finish our conversation.”

“You’re done.” Mace sliced his flattened palm through the air with finality. “You crossed the line. I should kill you now.”

Knox met Mace’s hostile glare with a challenge. “I dare you.”

Aggression flared between them for several long moments.
Meeka kept a silent snarl trained on Knox, her head low in coiled threat. It was the strangest scene Cora had ever witnessed.

Knox’s words were bold, but stupid. Mace had every advantage, and Knox had little chance of survival if Mace decided
to take him up on his dare. And she really didn’t think that was what Knox wanted. He was bluffing. Wasn’t he?

Mace brought in a hefty breath and let it out through his nose. “Trent will be informed and will decide your fate. Till then, you’ll remain in the cell you’d intended for me.”

She couldn’t explain Mace’s easy capitulation. He should be ripping Knox’s guts out with his bare hands. Not that she wanted to witness that. But vampires were ruthlessly territorial, and she was his.

Wasn’t she?

Maybe that’s what he would be doing if she’d told him the whole story of Knox’s attack. Yet she knew she would keep a few details to herself, deciding the reason was to spare Mace.

She internally cringed at her behavior with Knox. Again, she reminded herself it was his bite that made her act so lascivious.

Meeka backed off as Mace moved to take charge. Knox rose by degrees, looking as if there were some damage to his bones. Just as he made it to his full height, Mace plowed a bone-crunching fist into Knox’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards into the wall. Blood gushed from his mouth. However, Knox just straightened his spine and smiled, his teeth dripping red.

Meeka
trotted over and placed herself protectively at Cora’s front. On closer inspection, she wasn’t exactly a mountain lion. She was much larger, her features more menacing, if that were even possible. And with her nose still wrinkled on that silent growl in Knox’s direction, she almost looked prehistoric.

Mace shoved Knox toward the cavern stairs. As Knox passed, he locked gazes with Cora. She lifted her chin, her lips pressing in a tight line. The corners of his mouth curled, as if to say, “It was worth it.”

More than ever, she wished she had control of her magic so she could zap that expression off his face forever.

With Knox locked away, Cora felt safe for the first time in ages. She hadn’t realized how aware she’d been of his presence, and the dark stares in her direction, which she’d originally attributed to his anger over the accidental blood bond.

Now the memories of those dark stares were colored by malevolence.

And yet, a week had passed and still she contemplated his motives. Had he really endeavored to kill her? When she thought it over, she had to admit he hadn’t actually hurt her. Not really. Yet that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have. He didn’t seem the type to offer empty threats. So then why did her mind insist on analyzing the insidious exchange? She tried to recall if she’d caught a glimmer of his emotions, but even if she had, she’d been blinded by her own.

Mace had no idea she was giving Knox more than a moment’s thought, but every now and then he’d slant a curious glance at her and ask what she was thinking. Her emotions must be telling, and she often swam in guilt over what had transpired.

When he inquired once more, she jauntily lied, “I’m thinking about finally training with Ms. Windshaw.”

The old woman had instructed Mace to bring her back to Wicked Wares in one month. That was tomorrow.

She wiggled her fingers at Mace and grinned. “I can’t wait to finally learn how to wield these suckers.”

He stunned her with a wickedly flirtatious grin. “I can attest you’ve already neared expert status.” He pulled her close and dipped his head to take her lips in a soft kiss that soon had her raring for more. He’d hardly left her side since the incident. Almost as if he were overcompensating for not having prevented Knox’s attack. He’d been so concerned over an outside threat he’d discounted the danger within.

Yet she worried there might be something more to his constant attention. He seemed able to decipher her emotions better than she. What sort of distance was required before he could no longer sense her? Even stuck so far underground, would he have been, figuratively, front row and center to her encounter with Knox? If so, what did he make of it?

She didn’t dare ask. The merest speculation made her feel irrationally tawdry. In fact, neither of them spoke of Knox if they could help it.

Over the last week, the shadowy entity had only appeared to her once more. She’d woken from a dead sleep one night to find it eerily floating near the end of the bed as if it were watching her and Mace sleep. She’d observed it until it skulked out of the room, presumably back to its mysterious window realm, or wherever it was that it went. At first she’d been frightened of the thing, but it hadn’t harmed her, hadn’t so much as brushed up against her. She got the feeling it was trapped. A spirit between planes maybe. Perhaps in need of assistance. Both she and Mace hoped Ms. Windshaw could enlighten them on how to deal with it.

Cora crawled into bed next to Mace.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, settling the crown of her head just under his jaw. “Is everything alright with you?”

“Yes. Why?”

Meeka, back in her kitten form, hopped up onto the mattress and declared herself with a strong meow. Then she pranced toward them and curled her little body into a crevice between their bodies.

As Mace scratched under
Meeka’s chin, he replied, “Your expression. You look melancholic.”

“I do?”

“And you haven’t smiled in a while.”

“I have too,” she argued.

“Not a real smile. Not one that reaches you inside.”

She frowned at that.

“Are you happy here with me?” he asked suddenly.

She froze at the unexpected question.

Mace waited patiently for her response, his breath stunted.

“Of course I’m happy,” she replied, but there was a false note.

He attempted to sift through her emotions, but lately, it was like finding one’s way through a tight cluster of barbed chicken wire.

A week ago, he assumed while Knox was assaulting her, he’d felt her calling out to him. It was like a lasso around his heart, squeezing tighter with every second he was unable to get to her. He’d never been rendered so helpless, or frightened, in his life. He’d failed her in every way.
Could have lost her forever. 

But then, as he had bashed his fists against the thick cell door, he’d sensed her acquiesce mingled with considerable lust, and it was a dagger to his chest. At some point, he’d fallen to his knees in anguish.

But he couldn’t fault her. Knox had utilized his bite as many before him had: barbarically and without mercy.

I should have killed him
.

But if he had, his own life would have been forfeited, according to clan law. Both he and Knox were bonded to Cora, and therefore, both were to be allowed full access to her. Technically, keeping Knox confined, as he was now, was considered illegal.

“You want to try that one again?” he said to Cora, distracting himself from his spiraling thoughts.

She cringed. Did she realize what he wanted from her? He had no right to push her on this. She’d been through too much in the last six weeks.

As if reading his mind, she said, “So much has happened in little more than a month. Everything I once knew has been turned on its head. I’m not sure about anything anymore. I’m no longer Coraline Gordon, I’m…I don’t even know.”

“You’re
Coraline Conwell.”

“Right.
Who is that person?”

“She’s intelligent, beautiful,
sexy as hell. I believe she’s a powerful witch, though she hasn’t figured it out. But she must be, because she’s easily bewitched me.” He took her by the wrist and placed her palm over his chest. “She has captured my heart.”

She swallowed and forced a smile, then lowered her head to rest on his outstretched arm, placing her forehead down on his pectoral muscle, successfully hiding her face. He knew what that
meant. He might not have her heart yet, but at least she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. That was something. She only needed time to comb through her disheveled feelings.

He could only imagine how jarring it must be to have wholeheartedly believed something one month and then the opposite another. To, in fact, care for a vampire, demolishing a lifelong opinion that all vampires were evil.

Although she was not yet ready to admit how much she cared for him, her palm flattened over his heart.