Blood Dark (8 page)

‘
Fuck
,’ she hissed under her breath.

She turned around to face the room again.

Kane remained sat in his chair, his arms still folded, his eyes glinting with triumph that infuriated her.

She took a steady breath before she stepped back inside.

To regain some sense of control, she took it upon herself to approach the table. She draped her belongings back on the chair and resumed her seat.

‘Okay,’ she said perching on the edge of the chair, her arms folded on the table as she looked him square in the eye.

Knowing then was as good a time as any, she’d hit him with the reality that had haunted her for near-on two weeks; that whatever they had started with had developed into something that even she hadn’t anticipated. That she’d fallen deep in those past few days – deep enough for it to be terrifying. Because the truth of what he was, what she was, the differences between them, the most basic genetic differences, was something no amount of love for him could overcome.

‘You think I don’t want to spend as much time with you as I can?’ she asked. ‘You think I could have given so much of myself to you if that wasn’t the case? Every iota of common sense told me not to come back to you, but I did anyway. I spent years making sure no one would have the opportunity to make me feel vulnerable again – and then I go and give myself to
you
.

‘But look at what you are, Kane. You’re vampire. I’m human. You may not be immortal but fifty years from now, you won’t look more than mid-forties. I’ll be eighty – and it’ll show.’ She clenched her hands, the words even harder to face out loud than in her head. ‘That scene I just witnessed down in that room, that’s one that will play on for you decades after I’ve gone. Your whole reality is a stark reminder of my own mortality. And I never minded being what I was, Kane; I never even thought about it – until I met you.’

Because she may have spent seven years waiting for the soul ripper to come for her and have survived, but she knew their relationship wasn’t going to survive
this
sentence over them – Sirius’s threat or not.

A time would come when one of them would have to walk away. That the very nature of her physiology would have her pushing him away for her own self-esteem, pride, of not wanting him to see her decay as he remained as stunning as he was right then. Because she knew there would plenty more out there vying for his attention – beautiful, nubile young females, even his own kind, who he could have more fun and games with while her skin wrinkled and her stature shrunk and her bones began to ache.

She’d never let it get that far. She wouldn’t do it to him. She wouldn’t force him to make that choice.

She didn’t want to have to face that choice herself – to face up to her own mortality. But that’s what she faced every time she looked at him, getting closer to him only worsening the inevitable punishment. That was why the fear of knowing they would one day have to part ways had become a wall between them that wouldn’t crumble away. It was why, no matter how she felt about him, she’d have to retain a small iota of self-protection.

‘And where do we go then? Will it be the same with all that it will entail? Would I even want that? I don’t know. And that’s what I’m saying. That’s why I have to be out there living my own life and not cocooned in yours. For the first time in seven years, I’m no longer staring death in the face. I have to try and build on that. I’ve always stood on my own two feet and it’s a part of me I don’t want to lose. But neither do I want to lose you by keeping back that element of self-preservation.
That’s
a tough decision, Kane.’

His eyes narrowed slightly again, but his gaze didn’t flinch.

‘And for you to make me feel guilty for it shows just how detached you are from the human condition,’ she added. ‘So how about you cut me a little slack rather than looking at me like I betrayed you when I did it because I care more than I should.’

As his frown deepened, it did nothing to abate the tightness in her own throat. She quickly brushed away the tear that escaped from her eye, frustrated by its presence.

Kane licked his lower lip, the sudden silence consuming as he lowered his gaze. When his eyes re-met hers, something in his had softened.

‘I’m more than aware of your human limitations, Caitlin, but right now none of us know if we’ll survive the next few days let alone the next few years. You’re worrying about some future that might never happen. It’s what happens
now
that counts. It’s us being together for those moments that matter. Whatever we are, whatever happens, nothing can take those away from us.’

‘Then why spoil them? You
were
a bastard to me this morning, Kane, and I don’t deserve it. I feel like we’re some married couple and I’ve been accused of having an affair. It’s not fair. I need to make it clear right now that I am not going to fight for us if it’s something you don’t want. If it’s all gotten too complicated, tell me. If the novelty’s worn off or you’ve been using me –’

‘If I’ve been
using
you?’

‘You’re not the only one with doubts, Kane. And I get them even more when you treat me like this.’ Determined to remain composed, she interlaced her hands on the table. ‘All I want is for you to be honest with me. I’ve spent the last fourteen years immersed in others’ deceit. Your honesty is more important than anything to me.’

The seconds ticked by amidst his silence to the point she was ready to pull away again.

But her heart jolted as Kane slid his hand forward to rub his cool, relaxed fingers over her clenched ones, his thumb gliding deep into the recess between her two crossed thumbs.

The tenderness of his touch, the fact he was reaching out to her, made her pulse race.

‘I don’t do this relationship shit, Caitlin. But I see you because I want to see you; I’m with you because I want to be with you. That’s the truth.’

She frowned. It was a question she had never asked: ‘How many relationships have you had?’

‘Not as many as the number of females I’ve slept with. Let’s just say a lot less. I don’t “date”, Caitlin. I would have thought you’d worked that out.’

‘So what’s
this
?’

‘Me not being able to walk away any more than you can.’

Caitlin let out a shaky breath, her throat constricted at his confession. But she had to ask the question. ‘And the female I saw you sat with?’

He exhaled tersely. He tongued his incisor as he broke from her gaze for a moment. He looked back at her, his eyes laced with sincerity. ‘I’ve been with no one else since I’ve been with you. I’m not weak like that, Caitlin. Just as I’m loyal to those who are loyal to me.’

‘Then you have to learn to trust me, Kane. You have to have more faith in me.’

‘Like
you
trust
me
implicitly?’

‘I’m trying.’

‘Then maybe we both need to try harder.’ He stood up and held out his hand for her to take.

She looked from his hand up to his eyes. A shiver of excitement washed through her.

He held his open palm an inch closer. ‘A couple of hours. Just me and you. I think it’s long overdue, don’t you?’

K
ane led
her by the hand towards the boarded-up window, the dark wood adding to the claustrophobia of the narrow corridor, exacerbated by the blue shabby walls poorly lit by an insufficient bulb.

He took a left up the equally narrow graffiti-emblazoned doglegged stairs, up to another corridor of doors. He passed two before taking the one on the left. Letting go of her hand, he indicated for her to enter first.

Caitlin stepped into the shadowed corridor of what was a small apartment – a bedroom to her left, a bathroom to her right, and what looked like an open-plan living space ahead. Beneath the very floor they were standing, she could hear the low thrum of music.

He closed the front door behind them, before placing his hand on the small of her back and guiding her into the bedroom.

The bed was shoved up against the only window opposite, a sash window that sat partially open, letting in the cool breeze through the closed curtains. Fitted wardrobes spanned the wall to her left, just a single chest of drawers and a wooden chair to her right.

Closing the bedroom door behind them, Kane stepped over to the chest of drawers. Opening the top one, he removed what looked like strips of fabric.

Her pulse picked up a notch as she watched him crouch at the foot of the bed to tie the fabric around the base beneath the mattress, each of the two strips three-feet apart. Moving onto the bed, he knelt at the metal headboard, doing the same with a further two strips of fabric, casually preparing the pending restraints before he laid a couple of spares on the bedcovers.

Unnerving gruff laughter echoed up through the floorboards as he turned to face her from a few feet away, the bed then his backdrop.

Her mouth turned dry. Her heart raced to the point there was no determinate beats, like a butterfly trapped in a small glass jar fighting for its survival. As he looked her square in the eyes, her stomach flipped. ‘A bit early in the day, isn’t it?’

He sat on the edge of the bed facing her, his feet a foot apart. He leaned back, his arms braced, nothing but ease in his own composure. But there was a renewed intensity in his eyes not dissimilar to what she’d seen glints of when they’d first been together. ‘After our two weeks together? Since when did that apply?’

But it was different now. It felt different stood there in her work clothes, during working hours, time owing or not. But it wasn’t just the oppression of work guilt. The flutter in her stomach wasn’t like the ones she’d have back then, when he’d gone out for a couple of hours and she’d spend all that time getting ready for him; when she’d been prepared.

Because she was anything but prepared for what he was proposing. Even during their two weeks together, they’d never reached that point: that point of her total surrender those restraints indicated.

‘Don’t look so worried, Caitlin. I’m not asking you to give me your soul this time – just your body. And your trust.’

The playfulness in his eyes, in his tone, was the only thing that eased the tension. ‘So this is a
test
?’

‘You said I needed have more faith in you. I think it works both ways. And participation
is
optional, by the way.’

The inferred undertones, the glint in his eyes as he said it, made her heart skip another beat. Because it wasn’t simply a game: it was a challenge.

He didn’t need the restraints; he could overpower her any time he chose. But he was asking her to
voluntarily
put herself in that position; consenting to be utterly helpless. From the position of the restraints, this was about being fully spread in an offering to him.

She knew she was breathing heavier than she should have been, but she had no control over it. She tried so hard to suppress the thoughts, but they were there embedded deep in the darkest parts of the back of her mind: how much she
truly
trusted him.

It had been over four days since they’d last been intimate. With him still reeling from her showing no sign of abating over returning to the VCU, the sex had felt more like a post-argument make-up but with neither really having forgiven the other. It had been quick; he’d been rougher than usual. He hadn’t held her when it was over as he’d done the last few times. And, angered with herself that she had created the situation, she hadn’t been entirely sure she’d wanted to be held anyway. But it had left her feeling even more insecure that their fragile bond had been severed.

That maybe the Kane who had once hated her was back.

‘Or we can sit and chat if you’d prefer,’ he said. ‘Maybe discuss the weather.
Or
you can walk back out of the door.’

But the anxiety driving her to opt for the latter was clouded by some greater need building deep in the pit of her abdomen. The beat seeping up from below was almost hypnotic, securing her in the moment. Because she wanted him – that was the basis of her wavering on the spot. She wanted to remind herself what it felt like being that close to him. She wanted to feel his touch, relish in the escapism of his full attention, feel that bond again.

Because she’d missed him.

And because she wanted to remind herself that it was all worth it.

She pulled the fastener from her hair, her fingers already trembling with something between anxiety and anticipation. Because she knew her consent wasn’t solely about proving something to him, it was just as much about proving something to herself.

K
ane watched
as Caitlin unzipped her boots and removed her socks, discarding them before she moved onto the bed behind him.

By the time he stood and turned to face her, she was laying on her back, both her legs slightly bent, the one nearest him higher than the other, her hands lax beside her shoulders, the breeze from beneath the closed curtains beside her playing with wisps of her hair.

He hardened in his jeans simply from looking at her in the submissive pose, the touch of anxiety lacing her eyes adding to the edge.

He’d tried to coax her into it before but she’d always shown reluctance, never willing to go that final step of total submission that would prove the extent of her trust. Caitlin always had to ultimately hold something back. Somewhere deep in her core, there was still a fear of who he was – or maybe
what
he was. And that barrier was risky – as risky as her being an agent was to him.

Because that fragment of doubt would always be there: that all vampires were ultimately predators. It was in her very nature, her most implicit sense of self-preservation, to fear their basic difference.

In many ways, she wasn’t wrong. By his very nature he wanted to control her, to dominate her, to play predator toying with his prey. It was the most raw and instinctive part of him. When it came to sex,
he
wanted to be in charge. And whether she was ready to admit it or not, she preferred it that way. But she’d relax into it so much easier if she could get over that last hurdle of trust, for her to know that although laying herself open for potential pain, humiliation and degradation, he would do nothing to her that didn’t turn her on as much as it did him. That he was experienced enough to sense that line. That he could control himself not to cross it.

That he
cared
enough not to cross it.

That he cared more than he should.

And that was why the snag of guilt lingered despite him trying to ignore it. He knew gaining her trust was as much about testing ground for what he needed to do – for the information he needed to ask of her. If what she had said to him down in that room was true, then he could risk it.

But if she had lied in her heartfelt speech, one that had got to him more than he was ready to acknowledge, if those glossy eyes staring back at him across the table had been laced with deceit, he’d know by the time he was done. If there were an inkling of truth in Jask and Caleb’s suspicions about her intentions and motives, he’d know.

Stepping around to the foot of the bed, Kane met her gaze, her chest rising and falling a notch faster than it should. And he let her linger in that anticipation for a few moments before he moved onto the bed, nudged between her thighs, spreading them each side of his knees.

Leaning over her, he rested his palms either side of her shoulders. Her scent filled his senses: the familiar scent of magnolia and cedar wood that she always wore, laced with the subtle undertones of musk and vanilla. It reminded him of when he took her from her bed. It reminded him of how far they’d come since.

He lifted one wrist to one side of her head and secured it to the headboard, before gently spreading her arm to bind the other.

He looked back into her eyes, at the tension in her jaw. And he winked.

She broke a smile as he’d hoped, but her pupils dilated, her breathing more rapid despite her trying hard to contain it.

Bracing himself on one arm, he slowly unfastened one button after the other on her shirt before brushing it aside to expose her lacy balconette bra, the subtle upthrust of her pert breasts within.

Despite the very sight hardening him further in his jeans, he ignored the front fastening for now. Instead, he ran the palm of his hand across her collarbone, before gliding down across the upward curve of her breasts, enjoying the softness of her skin, relishing in the warmth of her human body.

There was a time when he had to go so steady with her, curbing his own frustration so as not to incite her to fend him off. But she’d come a long way since then; and he was going to take her further still.

Hooking his thumb into the upper lace of one cup, he eased down the delicate fabric, freeing her nipple to him. It enticingly hardened further under the exposure, caressed by the breeze.

She shuddered, her hands clenching as he lowered his mouth to her breast, licked lightly and tauntingly across the very tip before circling his tongue clockwise and then anticlockwise around her areola.

By the time he looked back into her eyes, her pupils were fully dilated, her breaths ragged.

But she didn’t tell him to stop.

He felt himself stiffen further, his heart equally softening just a touch at her compliance.

She flexed her fingers as he sat back on his haunches.

Sliding his fingers down her firm, concave stomach, past her belly button, he reached the buttons on her jeans. Unfastening each in turn, he kissed once and then twice around the periphery of her exposed belly button before catching hold of the waistband of her jeans. He smoothly eased them down over the curve of her behind, partially taking her lacy cream underwear with them, before casting the denim aside.

He fastened her left ankle to the bed before reaching for the right, his fingers brushing the ankle bracelet he had given her.

He’d spent two days trying to work out a gift. Whilst she’d been sleeping, he’d wandered into Arana’s room. He’d run his fingers through the dust of her dressing table and had wondered what she would think of Caitlin in his bed. But as he’d looked at his sister’s picture and seen that smile, he’d known he’d got one over on her killers more than if he’d done the terrible things he had planned: he had won Caitlin’s heart.

He’d removed the lid off the trinket box and had taken out the ankle bracelet.

Caitlin had wanted to be with him despite the things he’d done. She’d looked beneath the surface and saw what he had once been. She’d put his sister first. She’d sacrificed her own family, her own reputation to see justice for Arana in a way he never could. They were principles that couldn’t be bought, that couldn’t be traded, that couldn’t be repaid.

Back then, he had believed in her.

Back then, when he hadn’t known just how close the darkness of the prophecy had encroached, he’d resolved to do whatever he could to hold the future back for as long as he could so he could remain locked in the present as long as possible with Caitlin.

Until that time had been snatched away by Sirius.

A lack of time that should have already been calling an end to them.

But touching her again, being close to her again, he knew it was about more than needing information. Caitlin had become his inexplicable addiction. She had become his release. She fed a part of him that nothing else could reach. And that danger, that edge of unpredictability about her, fulfilled a part of him that surged at the scent of risk.

And being close to Caitlin was the ultimate risk.

Being close to Caitlin was the ultimate high.

Letting her close to him, despite the gamble, was the ultimate “fuck you” to Sirius.

And he’d remind himself of that whenever he felt the pang like he did then – that she really had become much more to him.

And that, at some point, he was going to pay the price for it.

But not yet.

He reached for the strip of fabric to tie her with the final restraint.

If she was going to back out, it would be then.