Darkest Desire of the Vampire: Wicked in Moonlight\Vampire Island (Harlequin Nocturne) (22 page)

Sloane looked at Isla full-on, and her heart leaped with joy and disbelief. How was he standing there? Lucian had thrust the sword right into Sloane’s gut.

The gash was visible in his T-shirt, the cotton shredded and caked with blood. The skin beneath was red and angry looking but smooth and whole.

Isla’s mouth fell open and her heart stuttered.

Sloane was alive. He was pale and feral-looking—but alive. He had just healed from a fatal wound in mere minutes.

Her mind couldn’t process it any more than she could process the fangs protruding from his upper jaw. His face was drawn and pale, and though she knew next to nothing about vampires, if she had to hazard a guess, she would think that he needed to drink blood to replace what he had lost, which was spread out in a viscous pool on the floor behind him.

“I will kill her for what she’s done to you.” His eyes on Isla, Sloane set Jessie down on the floor again, keeping his hand clasped around her neck. He paused, and Isla understood that he was waiting for her to give her consent.

Isla shook her head violently and struggled against her bonds. She was done. She wanted to go home.

“No. Please, don’t.” Finally, she felt her throat thicken and tears prickle at the backs of her eyes. “I won’t have that on my conscience. Just—just leave her here.” She was going to suggest that Sloane drink from the woman because he clearly needed to, but she couldn’t bear the thought. Jessie had said that being bitten by a vampire was a source of extreme pleasure.

She didn’t deserve that. More, Isla didn’t like the idea of Jessie being in such an intimate situation with Sloane.

Terrifying as his fangs were, he was hers.

As if sensing her struggle, he took his hand off Jessie’s neck and deliberately stepped away, moving smoothly toward Isla.

“I don’t drink from fangers.” He seemed on the verge of saying something else, but then he knelt in front of Isla and placed his fingers on her ankle to remove her bond, and she couldn’t help it.

She shrank away from him.

As if she had physically struck him, he seemed to retreat, just for a moment. Inserting a finger between the metal and her ankle, he snapped the bond in half, then repeated the movement with her other foot.

When he stood up to release her wrists, his face was carefully blank of emotion. He had also retracted his fangs. He still looked wan and weak.

“Sloane. I—” Isla wanted to say that she was sorry, but the words stuck in her throat.

She massaged her wrists, wincing as the blood flowed back into her hands. She was so ashamed and so nervous that her heart beat triple time, her every muscle tensed to flee.

This was Sloane. He had never shown any drive to hurt her, and he had had ample opportunity.

Still, she couldn’t erase from her mind the terrifying image of him with his fangs fully extended.

“Do you trust me?” Isla looked up sharply. Sloane’s words were brusque, his voice harsh. She turned halfway to look at Jessie, who was crouching on the floor now, at the edge of the vampires who watched the scene play out before them.

She had trusted Jessie implicitly, and the woman had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

Her entire life, Isla had used logic and fact as the basis for her actions.

She hadn’t gotten very far.

Something in her gut told her that she could trust Sloane, fangs and all.

Maybe it was time to squelch the need for empricial evidence and trust her instincts.

“I do.”

Chapter 9

S
loane set Isla down in the same copse of trees in which he had found Marcus not even an hour earlier. From what Marcus had told him about Luana before they had gone their separate ways—Sloane to save Isla, Marcus to capture Luana—Isla was not yet safe.

It had been centuries, but Sloane would never forget how he and Luca had once been human together. Luca had introduced him to Ana, the only woman Sloane had ever loved.

Sloane had carried the guilt over his first action as a newborn vampire ever since. He would never forgive himself for trying to turn Ana, and for the madness that had stolen the rest of her human life, and her vampiric one, as well.

As soon as Sloane had seen Lucian, had realized that he was his old friend Luca, he had understood that Luana was Ana, the woman he had loved and ruined.

Luca...Lucian...clearly felt that Sloane had not yet suffered enough.

Ana would have as much grievance against him as Lucian had, and hers was tainted with insanity.

They needed to get to a boat and get off the island. Isla would want to explore her heritage, he knew this, but they would do it another time in another place.

His Ana had been sweet but jealous. Luana had centuries of insane rage under her belt, and she would not have taken kindly to Sloane’s interest in another woman.

Shaking, Sloane realized that he couldn’t go another step without drinking blood—fresh, human blood.

To her credit, Isla didn’t shrink away from him when he set her down, the way she had in Lucian’s chambers. The fear that he had seen reflected in her eyes had cut him down to the marrow, and he knew that he would remember it for a very long time.

He had never before cared so much about being seen as a beast.

“Isla.” At the moment her scent was both the most appealing and most repellant thing he had ever experienced. If he wanted to get her off this island, he needed to drink from her, and she was as intoxicating to him as she had been from the first moment he had set eyes on her.

The idea of drinking from her when she may not be fully willing made him nauseous. Plus, he had overheard what Jessie had told Isla. Unless the woman was lying, Isla was a natural-born vampire. Though he had thought that such a thing was mere legend, he couldn’t discount it.

He had no idea what his bite would do to her.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. What he saw in them brought him to his knees.

“I trust you.” Her voice trembled with fear, but it wasn’t the same as it had been.

Isla tugged at the loose neck of her shirt—his shirt, hanging on her small frame—and exposed the curve of her delicate neck. Without bidding, his fangs came out, and at the same time his cock went impossibly hard.

“I want you to drink. You need to. I trust you.” Her voice only trembled a little. Her stare strayed down to his erection, and her eyes widened as she hissed in a breath.

“Sex and feeding are linked. Be sure.” He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back. He needed her strength and wondered if he could keep himself from becoming so lost in her that he could still protect them both.

“Do it.”

“It has to be fast.” He was already striding toward her, and he could feel the surrender in her frame as his arms wrapped around her.

Turning her gently so that she faced the trunk of a large tree, he pressed against her from behind. This way she was covered from any attacks, and he was the vulnerable one.

Trying to keep enough wits about him to look out for the now familiar vinegar smell with the tender curve of Isla’s neck offered to him was next to impossible.

“Yes.” Sliding his hand over her buttocks and around the curve of her leg, he moved beneath fabric to find flesh and heat. She shuddered when his hand moved unerringly to the pulse of her clit.

She was wet and ready, her response to him as primal as his was to her.

Working her with unsteady yet firm fingers, he traced his lips over the column of her neck. He heard the hitch of her pulse from fear and smelled the syrupy heat of her blood as her heartbeat quickened.

He bit into her flesh slow and firm. She cried out softly at the first stabs of pain before his saliva anesthetized the wound.

Her blood began to flow, hot and rich, into his mouth, giving him life. He could tell the exact moment that the pleasure hit her. Having undone his shorts with his free hand, he fisted his erection while tugging the flimsy fabric of her spandex shorts to the side with his other hand.

He was inside of her in one long thrust. He felt the trembles of her orgasm as the sensation of his cock and his suckling combined sent her over the edge.

He felt her blood flowing through him, filling his veins, restoring his strength. It was more potent than that of an average human, rather as if he was drinking fifty proof instead of a beer. A great roar pushed through his lungs, and he buried his face in Isla’s hair to stifle the noise, still aware in some dim portion of his brain that they were in danger.

With a low moan, Isla pushed back against him. He came hot and hard, thrusting deep, and felt another surge of strength in his body.

He wanted to stay inside of her slick heat—wanted to hold her close, wanted to start it all over again. But before he could even withdraw from her tightness, that vinegar smell slammed across all of his senses like an assault.

He growled, trying to shake off the drunken sensation that Isla’s ambrosial blood had caused in him. Then he was flying, caught before he was ready by a hundred-some pounds of snarling, enraged vampire.

He had taken too long—he had lingered. He hadn’t wanted to make it worse for Isla. And now she was in even more danger because of him.

Snarling, he rolled with the female vampire whose scent was now familiar. He could smell Marcus in the distance, getting closer.

He now understood what had tickled at his memory about the second vampire’s scent. She had changed so much that her smell was nearly unrecognizable, but that very faint note was still the same.

Now, though, she was no longer a fragile human girl in love with a vampire. She had had centuries to gain strength. She was also insane.

He rolled with her, trying to gain the upper hand.

He couldn’t let her get to Isla.

Shit, but she was strong.

Her caramel eyes, shining from olive skin, were bright with madness. Her hair was a mess of long, matted curls, and when she moved, he caught the overwhelming stench of the mansion’s ballroom.

She must have followed them there and just missed them.

He struggled underneath her.

She held him down, threw her head back and laughed.

“No fun being on the other side, is it, Simeon?” Her use of the name he had once called his own dragged him back through the centuries, back to the time before he had been turned, when he had been confidants with a human and loved the human’s twin sister.

“Sloane!” Isla was pressed back against the tree where he had just taken her. His loving had made her cheeks flush with blood, and she looked irresistible—would to any vampire.

His mind whirled, trying to figure a way out of it.

“You killed my brother, you little whore.” Luana—Ana—stared over her shoulder at Isla, who seemed angry and frightened. “Was it not enough for you to tempt him with your body and your blood? I will kill what you love!” Slamming Sloane’s head into the ground hard enough for him to see stars, Luana flew through the air toward Isla.

Isla didn’t flinch. Instead she stood her ground, her hands curled into tight fists.

Sloane sprang after Luana, slamming her into the ground so hard that it shook.

“Don’t touch her!” Luana struggled beneath him, cackling at the same time with mad glee.

“She didn’t kill Luca. I did.” Sloane bared his fangs, fully extended, at the woman he had once loved so much that he’d tried to keep her for eternity. Though he was still racked with guilt, seeing her go after the woman who had stolen his heart fully removed the last scourges of tenderness that he had held on to for this creature.

“She might as well have!” Thrusting at his chest with both hands, Luana freed herself and flew toward Isla again.

Then Luana was flying back in his direction, landing on her ass just a few feet away from him.

Sloane leaped to his feet. Isla was looking at her hands with astonishment.

“I— What?” She looked helplessly at Sloane.

Luana rose to her feet again, circling the tree to which Isla was pressed. Sloane jumped to Isla, wrapping his body around her protectively.

He had no idea what had just happened.

“Interesting.” Luana appraised Isla as she circled, a shark with its prey in sight. “My great-granddaughter so many times removed, this new power in your blood—it is from the bite of a vampire. It was supposed to heal my twin.”

Her
great granddaughter? Lucian had said the same. That meant...

In a sickening rush, Sloane saw why Luana had lost her mind when he had turned her. She had already been twisted—a family trait. She in turn must have done the same to Lucian, which meant that it hadn’t been his specific bite at all.

Luca and Ana. Together.

She had never been his, after all.

That meant that Isla... Isla was the generations removed product of the madness of
both
Luca and Ana, of the relationship that they surely hadn’t confided in him about.

Never had Sloane been so thankful for the distance that time created. Though Isla’s ancestors had been twisted and mad, the traits hadn’t been passed down to her.

But Luca...Ana...the vampire before him, the woman he had once loved and who had played him for a fool, seemed an entirely new creature, his knowledge giving him perfect vision. He listened intently as she spoke, afraid that if he missed something, it would cost Isla her life.

“Now the power of this natural-born vampire will be mine—your gift to me for stealing what I love.”

* * *

Isla’s hands were trembling, but it wasn’t with fear. She could feel something surging through her veins, something hot and potent that was overwhelming her.

It burned.

It made her feel alive.

When Luana had come flying at her with murderous intent written on her face, Isla had reacted out of sheer instinct. She had felt the force of her own strength shoving against the vampire.

She had no idea how it had happened or what was happening to her.

Now Luana was circling her again—Isla knew that she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“But...I don’t understand. Lucian is my great something grandfather. How are you...” Her voice trailed off as understanding hit her.

Lucian and Luana were twins...brother and sister who clearly had an affection for each other that ran far deeper than it should have. She was descended from these two insane creatures.

And Lucian had been killed to save her.

“Now you understand.” Luana came closer again, though she kept a bit of distance, clearly appraising the situation—and Isla’s strange new strength—before acting.

From the corner of her eye Isla saw Sloane lift his head, sniffing the breeze. Luana did the same, and a flicker of an emotion that Isla couldn’t identify skittered through the vampire’s eyes.

“You don’t need to keep watch on me anymore, Marcus.” Luana called out the words into the sticky air, her stare still focused on Isla, who was wondering if she could truly hold off the vampire when she went for her throat.

“Luana. Don’t do this.” The man Isla had seen with Luana in the yoga tent appeared through the trees. He looked agitated and weary. “Lucian is dead. He doesn’t need the girl’s blood. You don’t need her blood. Let them go. You cannot defeat us both to get to her.”

Luana hissed, baring her teeth at the man who demonstrated affection underneath his obvious fatigue. “She killed Lucian. She will pay. And I can do whatever I want, overpower anyone I want, after I have her blood flowing through my veins! No one will ever hurt me again!” Luana looked at Sloane, and Isla saw an undercurrent run between the two.

They had a history, and the realization was like a punch in the gut. But before she could begin to withdraw, to cry in a corner as was typical of her, she felt a surge of emotion stronger than anything she’d ever experienced.

Rage, jealousy and possession filled her veins. Sloane was
hers.
He had marked her with his body. Luana couldn’t have him.

Isla howled. Sloane’s eyes met her own as she did, and she saw her fierce need to possess reflected there.

She was not entirely human anymore. She was vampire, and although she didn’t know what that entailed in the relationship department exactly, she knew that she and Sloane belonged to one another.

Isla was expecting Luana’s lunge this time, but the vampire still managed to take her to the ground. She struggled and fought to keep away from the deadly length of those fangs, which came ever closer to her neck.

“Isla!” Sloane was trying to pull Luana off Isla, and Isla was fighting for all that she was worth—for her life and for Sloane. Then Marcus was shouting not to hurt Luana, and jaws were snapping as the two women rolled in a tangle of sleek limbs.

“I want my brother back! Luca, my love!” Forgoing her fangs, Luana wrapped her hands around Isla’s throat. Isla gagged as oxygen was cut off.

From over Luana’s shoulder she saw Sloane. His fangs were fully extended, and her blood still stained his lips. He looked closer to a beast than a human, but what she saw was simply Sloane, the man she had connected with on a level she had never thought possible. The man who had killed for her.

The man who would do so again, just to save her life.

He gave her the strength she needed. As her vision grayed from lack of oxygen, Isla drew everything that she had and shoved at Luana, freeing herself.

Sloane caught the female vampire by the tips of her hair and held her tightly in a stranglehold. Isla rolled to her feet, amazed that she was able to do so after such a blow. She didn’t know what, exactly, she could do to help keep Luana subdued, but whatever was necessary, she would do it.