Adam (25 page)

“I have felt attractions in my lifetime. I have been besotted with a girl when I was younger. I remember that. How she fascinated me and everything about her seemed so flawless. But all of that pales compared to what I feel when I am looking at you, little Vamp. And I cannot for my life figure out why that is.”

“Perhaps it is just forbidden fruit?” she offered, brushing back her hair just so she could watch the way his eyes clung to the action, to the shift of the strands, to the way they resettled against her neck. She felt her heart fretting in her chest, the muscle wanting to beat despite its long-silent state. Beats and breath, so far he had inspired both. How was it he had the power to raise her dormant systems to life?

“Aye,” he said. “It is very possible. But only this particular fruit, I assure you. Only you, little Vamp.”

“Well, you have good taste, I’ll give you that,” she said with a smirk.

That made him laugh, a low rich sound, short-lived and yet beautifully male. It made her want to touch him so badly that she did. She was, after all, a sensualist. It was in the very core of her breed. It was how they tried to feel. So she reached out and drew a shaping hand over the powerful bulk of his shoulder and down the sinewy strength of his arm. An electric sensation jolted down the center of her body as she was forced to remember how he had felt above her, his strength and weight pressing into her, his heat penetrating her skin.

“Earlier, when I said you disappointed me ...” she said softly, barely above a whisper, as if in confession, “I didn’t mind the liberties you took with me. I only minded that you never followed up. I realize now that wasn’t your fault.”

“I could not have followed up in any event, Jasmine,” he said. “The world being what it was at the time. Although I ... I do not believe I would have been able to hold myself back. It would have taken others to do so.” He spared a glance up toward the sky, then looked directly into her eyes. “At the time it was Beltane. Now it is Samhain. Perhaps I am victim to both powerful moons. Perhaps I am throwing away my normal care because I am so disembodied from my former life. But I much prefer to think it has something to do with the fact that you are the most bewitching creature ever to walk the earth.” He took a breath, slowly, in through his nose, his eyes closing in obvious pleasure. “And you smell ...”

She did the same, her eyes drifting half closed as she took in the smell of him. It was such a primal scent, so male and dynamic. She found him to be by far the most tempting pleasure she had ever come across.

“You are quite enough to tempt me outside my species,” she admitted to him on a breathy voice. “I think, for the first time, I can appreciate the overwhelming attraction that Damien must feel for—”

She broke off, the words she was saying ringing sharp and yet discordant in her brain. She backed up a step, shaking her head. No. She would be damned if she would fall into the snare that currently held Damien in its grasp. To be so distracted that she would be willing to throw away everything that made sense?

No, she didn’t want that.

She turned away and shook off his stunning physical spell as best she could, trying to refocus on her hunt. She had a job to do. A responsibility to thousands of people, if not the entire world, when she thought on it. Ruth was a curse on every living thing, and she must be stopped. Jasmine couldn’t let anything get in the way of that. Too many of them had let their own personal distractions get in the way of destroying the Demon.

Adam sensed her withdrawal and knew it ought to feel like a slap in the face. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. But she wasn’t truly gone. Not ever gone, he realized slowly as he continued to feel her presence against his skin as surely as if she were leaning against him. He felt as though threads of energy were somehow strung between them, and with every passing moment they grew stronger. Instinct told him that touching her would make it happen all the more quickly. He didn’t understand how or why he knew these things. It wasn’t logical at all, it wasn’t some kind of learned information. It was purely intuition.

He reached for her hair, but his fingertips barely grazed her before she was leaping away into the air, moving to chase down her next lead.

Ah yes. The Demon. The traitor.

Jasmine had been regaling him with tales of Ruth’s history. How nearly every major player in the Nightwalker world had gone up against her. Some had achieved victory, but it had proved fleeting and temporary as she escaped final judgment and came back stronger and more tainted every time. As Adam hurried after the Vampire, he knew that he would not let Ruth escape. He would sacrifice his life first. Especially since it was clear she was gunning for his brother’s family. Adam could not allow that. It was his job, his life, to see no Demon harmed a human or Nightwalker. Catching Ruth was perhaps what he was most destined to do.

“Oh, how very lovely she is,” Ruth remarked as her Vampire minions laid their Mistral captive out on one of Ruth’s workbenches. “I had not expected her to be even prettier in person. They say Mistrals are as mousy in looks as they are beautiful in voice. Clearly that is not the case in this instance.”

“No, mistress,” agreed the petite black-and-gray-haired Demon who had followed the Vampires into the room. “She is heavily sedated,” she said apologetically. “I thought it the best way to bring her to you unharmed and”—she cast a look at the Vampires—“unbled. I wished her to be in as pristine condition for your needs as possible.”

“You are so thoughtful,” Ruth praised her. “Would you like to see the spell I am working on, as a reward for bringing me its most crucial component?”

“Very much so.”

Ruth impatiently shooed away the Vampires who were sniffing at the unconscious Mistral.

“Go, go! You’ll have your fun later,” Ruth assured them. “Come closer, dear. You see?” She drew close her papers, artfully interpreted pages of the hieroglyph spell of earlier. “It’s very close to a spell I used just a few years ago.” Ruth paused for a private chuckle with herself. “Idiots. They still have not realized they have been cursed. But
this
spell, unlike that one, can never be reversed. Even if they kill me, it will work its way through once the components have been meshed and the phrases spoken.”

“What will it do?” the Demon asked curiously.

“The other spell was a barrenness spell. But that would not work here because the Queen of Demons is already quite barren. This precious bit of work will be much louder. More active. With this spell she will simply go mad. No medic, not even Gideon, will be able to cure her. And because of its nature, they will quickly come to understand who is behind it. They will know it was me. That is why it is important that the spell be irreversible even should I die. Just in case they hunt me successfully, I want to reach out beyond my grave and make them suffer.”

“It is quite a clever vengeance.”

“It is a brilliant vengeance!” Ruth corrected her. “Now tell me, how goes the hunt for Corrine?”

“I do not know. Shall I find out for you?”

“If you can. But this takes precedence,” Ruth said, indicating her preparations for her spell. “When will the sedative wear off?”

“You have several hours.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed. “No matter. It gives me time to double-check all my preparations.”

“I will leave you to it,” the Demon said with a respectful inclination of her head. “I will seek news of Corrine. If the hunt is not proceeding to my satisfaction, I will see to it for you.”

“No doubt.” Ruth smiled at her. “You have proved to be an eager and loyal pupil. I am so glad you joined us.”

“There is no place I would rather be,” the Demon assured her softly.

Then she made another bow and excused herself from Ruth’s presence.

Damien bent over the back of the couch and pressed a soft kiss against his wife’s temple. She leaned into the touch of affection, a smile warming her features.

“Where are the children?” Syreena asked.

“Playing in the garden. Annalise is watching them,” he said. Siena, Syreena’s sister, had come to visit, bringing the Demon children Seth and Leah with her. With all that Leah had been through that evening, Siena had thought that a change of scene was called for. That perhaps putting some distance between Leah and the ailing Isabella would benefit them both.

“I don’t believe Seth has ever been here before,” Syreena noted. “He’s such a handsome little boy. Those curls of his are too adorable. His parents treasure him a great deal. He is a very lucky boy.”

“Because he is a child of prophecy?”

She scoffed at that. “As someone who was raised with great expectations, I can assure you that is the least special thing he will have in his life. He will no doubt spend a great deal of time wishing he was ‘normal.’ But he has close and extended family that will love and protect him at every turn, so I have faith it will not be too terrible a burden for him, unlike the way it was for me. I meant only that he was lucky to have his family. I barely knew mine. Siena and I have only grown close over these past two decades. I imagine sometimes how much better my life might have been if only we had been allowed to be sisters together while growing up.”

“Everything happens in its own way at its own time for a reason. Imagine if that were true, that one simple change in the fabric of history. You would have been a very different Syreena and would have acted in very different ways. Perhaps you would not have shown restraint and would have killed me the first time you laid eyes on me as I entered your vulnerable sister’s sickroom. Then I would be dead, and you would be ever so lonely without me.”

He smiled and kissed her on the corner of her mouth as she gently scoffed at him.

“You think so much of yourself,” she teased him. “I could very easily walk this world without the great Prince of Vampires.”

“Liar,” he said knowingly. “You would be lost without me just as I would be lost without you.”

Her charcoal eyes with their multicolored flecks lifted to meet his. She saw the truth in irises of deep midnight blue. But she did not need to see it to know it. She knew they were meant for one another. They could never part ways. Bond or no Bond, they were connected deeply beyond words, ceremonies, and the blood they had shared. Sometimes still shared, she thought with a sly smile.

“Ah, there it is.” Damien took a deep breath, smelling of his wife slowly and sensuously. “I knew it was coming, but it is thoughts like those that make it clear you will be in heat any day now.”

“I suspect I am always in heat as far as you are concerned,” she said. “Perhaps I should have a snack prepared for the children.” She stood up and moved away, very obviously putting distance and furniture between them. Damien narrowed his eyes on her and followed her quickly.

“You are many things, my love,” he said as he caught her arm and turned her toward him, “but an artful topic changer is not one of them. You are horribly obvious. And it is the third time you have done so when I have mentioned your breeding cycle. What is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she said with a shrug and eyes that hunted for stray bits of lint on his shoulders.

He caught her chin in his hand and made her lift her gaze to his.

She sighed in resignation.

“I’ve grown tired of this breeding carousel. My heat comes and I become a desperate little fiend demanding sex and frantically fretting over my fertility. I want a child so badly ...”

“As do I,” he said.

“Do you?” she asked. “I can’t help wondering if I haven’t just been dragging you into this maelstrom of mine and that you put up with it only because you wish to see me happy.”

“Syreena,” he said sternly, “one does not become Prince of the Vampires because he is easily swept away by the desires of others.”

“This is different,” she said with a small stamp of her foot. “Our connection makes it different.”

“True. And yes, you do become a tad desperate during your cycle.” At her stern look he edited himself. “Very well, quite desperate. But it all levels out afterward, leading me to believe that drive and desperation are probably a part of your breeding cycle and the hormones you are being subjected to at the time.”

“Then why doesn’t my sister behave likewise?” she wanted to know.

“Your sister is not you. And as you mentioned earlier, you are not like any other Lycanthrope. You are very much apart from others. Perhaps your dual animal aspects magnify your heat by two.”

Syreena thought about it and gave a reluctant nod.

“Perhaps.”

“Damien.”

Damien turned sharply at the intrusive address. His Vampires knew better than to intrude on his private time with his mate, but this was no Vampire.

Suddenly he could sense her, feel the wrongness of her. He thrust his wife protectively behind himself and hissed at the female. He mentally shouted for his guards, wondering how they had ever let such a creature get so close to him.

“Be at ease, I mean you no harm.”

He did not believe her. She was a stranger and she reeked of foul magic, the stench of it emanating off her like a twisted perfume. She was a Demon, he realized, when he saw her with his infrared vision and deduced she was several degrees cooler than a human or Lycanthrope. The black-and-gray swirl of her hair was caught in a loose braid that snaked over her shoulder. A white scarf hung around her neck and shoulders, but the rest of her was clothed in sweeps of black fabric.

“You will forgive me if I do not take your word for it,” he said as Vampires began to move swiftly into the room.

“I will be gone before any of you can touch me,” she promised him softly. “Force me to leave, and I cannot give you the help you and all the Nightwalkers need.”

“Wait.” Syreena touched her husband on his biceps, moving to his side in a way that made him bristle. He did not like her being in the line of sight of this unknown threat. “Who are you?” she asked the delicate-looking Demon.

The Demon looked at them with the strangest eyes, the indiscernible color seeming to constantly shift across the grayscale spectrum.