Drawn to the Vampire (Blood and Absinthe, Book 4) (12 page)

“Listen to me very carefully, Kit,” he said in a low voice that seemed to vibrate in her bones. “I didn’t take advantage of you last night because when we come together it won’t be because you’re under a spell. It’ll be because you—
you
—want me so much you won’t be able to stand it anymore. And I’m going to make you beg for it.”

Arrogant bastard,
Kit thought even as she had to stop herself from arching up into him. After that little comment she would have cut off her right hand before letting him know what she was feeling.

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said sharply.

Luke raised himself up slightly with his free arm, and Kit’s breasts ached at the lost contact. “I don’t have to hold my breath,” he said. “In fact, I don’t even have to breathe. Vampire, remember?”

He moved down her body until his face was just above her panties, and Kit wished
she
didn’t have to breathe.

“I just do it for fun,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he inhaled. His eyes snapped open and met hers. “Try telling me again you don’t want me.”

Oh, God. Oh,
God.

This was intolerable. This could not be tolerated. If she didn’t put a stop to this right now she was going to die, or kill him, or something.

Without even realizing what she was doing Kit pulled her legs up and kicked Luke so hard in the chest he flew five feet in the air and landed on the floor.

It would have been hard to say which one of them was more surprised.

“Wow,” Luke said after a moment, getting to his feet and grabbing his towel from the bed where it had fallen. With modesty restored he looked down at her speculatively. “For a girl not five foot four, you sure do pack a punch.”

“I don’t understand,” she said blankly.

“Don’t worry that this will change my feelings for you,” Luke said with a grin. “I like strong women.”

“Shut up. What in the…what
was
that?”

“Don’t you remember last night?”

“No. I mean, yes, but I don’t remember being strong like—oh.” Her face flooded with color as memory came back: her on top of Luke, straddling him, pinning his wrists with almost as much strength as he’d pinned her this morning.

Luke was still grinning, damn him. “It’s coming back, isn’t it? Your cheeks just turned bright red. It’s a nice memory for me, too.”

“You’re despicable.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Luke went back to the head of the bed, grabbed the key from the floor, and unlocked the handcuffs. Kit sat up and rubbed her wrist absently, trying to make sense of what had happened.

Suddenly she froze. “It’s Peter,” she said. “I’ve always felt a connection with him. This must have something to do with Peter. What if he’s crossed some kind of threshold in the underworld? Passed through some kind of gateway? What if he’s really gone now, really dead, and I’m being called as a warrior in his place?”

Peter…

Kit hadn’t shed a single tear for her brother since Celia had broken the news. Tears were a weakness she couldn’t allow herself. Besides, she had refused to accept that Peter’s loss was permanent. She was going to rescue him, wasn’t she?

But now the possibility that her brother might really be gone, gone beyond her power to save him, washed over her in a wave of despair.

It was too much. Exhausted by last night’s ordeal, shaken by the conflicting emotions warring in her heart, Kit, who’d been dry-eyed for days, broke down and sobbed.

It wasn’t pretty, feminine crying, with tears slipping delicately down her cheeks. Kit cried with her whole soul, with wrenching, gut-twisting sobs that shook her body and made her nose run. She buried her head in her hands as she wept, rocking herself back and forth and thinking only that her beloved brother might really be dead—and that everything she’d gone through in the last forty-eight hours might be for nothing.

Gradually the storm began to subside, and as it did she became aware of something very strange. There were arms around her, strong and comforting. She felt lips pressed briefly against her hair. And she heard words repeated over and over, quietly, fiercely—“It’s all right Kit, don’t cry, we’ll get him back, I swear to you, it’s not too late, don’t cry, sweetheart—”

When all this finally penetrated her consciousness, Kit froze.
Luke
was the one saying these things,
Luke
was the one with his arms around her, not to seduce but to comfort.

For some reason terror seized her. She twisted away from him violently, falling off the bed onto the floor and stumbling to her feet again.

“What do you think you’re
doing
?” she asked in a trembling voice.

She flew to the dresser where she’d put the other clothes he’d bought and jerked the top drawer open.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Kit?”

She was desperate to be covered from his gaze, and she pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater with frantic, shaking hands.

Once she was dressed, she straightened up to look at Luke. His expression was angry, but there was hurt there, too.

Kit hugged herself defensively. “For God’s sakes, put on some clothes,” she snapped.

The hurt in his eyes disappeared, leaving only the anger.

“Absolutely, sweetheart,” he said coldly, standing up and deliberately letting the towel drop to the floor. Kit had one glimpse of what had to be male perfection before she turned away hastily, cheeks burning.

“What got your knickers in such a twist, anyway?” Luke asked tightly. Kit heard the wardrobe door open, and she was grateful that she’d soon have a non-naked vampire to deal with.

“You had your arms around me and you—you were kissing my hair.”

The wardrobe door slammed shut violently, and Luke was standing there in jeans and a thick black cotton shirt. There was still anger in his expression but something else, too.

Vulnerability.

“I wasn’t trying to seduce you,” he said, as if it really mattered that she believe that. “I was just trying to—to comfort you. You were crying—”

“I don’t want your comfort!” she almost shouted at him. “What do you know about comfort? What do you know about human love or human pain or—or—”

Luke’s expression had closed and hardened. “Nothing,” he said. “That’s what you want to believe, right? I don’t know anything about love or pain. Forgive me for the terrible sin of trying to make you feel better. It won’t happen again.”

They stared at each other for a moment. The vampire was cold and controlled; Kit was trembling.

All of a sudden she couldn’t stand to be in that room one more second.

“I’m getting out of here,” she said harshly, moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I can go out, right? I’m not a prisoner—not anymore. I thought I might take a little walk down to Daro’s and rip him limb from limb.”

He was in front of her, blocking the door. “Bad idea, Kit,” he said calmly.

She stared him down. “Maybe you don’t understand how I feel about this. Daro took away my free will. He made me do things I would never…I don’t know how else to explain it to you, but what happened to me last night is the worst thing in the world.”

“I know that, damn it. Why do you think I didn’t…oh, forget it. Whether or not you believe me, I do know how you feel, and I still say it’s a bad idea to go after him.”

She folded her arms. “Why?”

“You don’t know what he’ll do. He’s already cast one spell over you. Do you want to take the chance he’ll put you out of commission tonight? What’s more important: getting revenge on Daro, or rescuing your brother?”

He had a point, damn him.

“Fine. I won’t go to Daro’s. But I’m still leaving, so get out of my way.”

He still hesitated. “About your strength—”

Kit drew back a step. “What?”

“It’s just…I don’t think it has anything to do with Peter. I do know something about the underworld, and there’s no transition or threshold or anything like that. Once you’re there, you usually don’t change at all. You’re in a kind of stasis. He’s not out of reach, Kit. We can get him out. We
will
get him out.”

Kit bit her lip. He was offering comfort again, even though he’d said he wouldn’t, and even though he was keeping his distance physically. And it worked. She still had no idea why she had those sudden bursts of strength, but what Luke said made sense. It might not have anything to do with Peter.

She didn’t know what to say to Luke, so she just nodded. He hesitated another moment and then stepped to the side. Kit breathed a sigh of relief, pulled the door open, and was gone.

* * *

She was gone.

After a few moments, Luke moved away from the door, walking restlessly and aimlessly around the darkened room. He looked at the curtained windows in frustration. If only he could look out, try to spot Kit as she left the hotel…but what good would that do? She’d gone where he couldn’t follow.

Into the light.

Worry began to assail him. Had he been wrong to let her go out there? She was so damned stubborn, not to mention willful and impetuous and confrontational…what were the chances she’d really keep away from Daro?

Daro and his spells…

Luke ran a hand through his still damp hair. For all the gratitude he’d gotten from Kit, he might as well have taken her last night.

In spite of the fact that he now knew she was attracted to him, he didn’t think she’d ever admit it, much less act on it. She’d made it perfectly clear what she thought of him. He was a heartless monster in her eyes, good only as a hired gun to get her into the underworld so she could save her precious brother.

He could have taken her. He could have said he didn’t realize she was under a spell. Hell, he could have said he knew about the spell and didn’t give a damn.

It wasn’t like she expected anything else from him. She thought he was an evil vampire with no feelings and no conscience, so why hadn’t he acted like it? She wouldn’t have thought any less of him than she already did.

And he would have had one night with her.

Luke went to her bed and stretched himself out, prone, remembering what it had been like to feel her beneath him.

Her scent clung to the sheets, the pillow, the very air. Her warmth…the fire within her…in four hundred years Luke had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to bury himself inside Kit Bantry. To feel her sweetness all around him. To taste every inch of her. To possess her utterly, to drive into her until she forgot everything but him.

He’d had his chance last night. Had it and let it go by. And what was his reward? Kit taunting him this morning for acting like a human being.

Acting like a human being…

Luke’s eyes snapped open. He sat up, and then rose to his feet. For a minute he stood still. Then he pulled off the silver band he wore on his right ring finger, placed it in the center of his palm, and extended his hand in a gesture of supplication.

He closed his eyes. “Demeter, I pray thee, grace this poor creature with thy presence.”

He waited a moment, then opened his eyes.

She was hovering a few feet away from him, little more than a wraith in this dimension but still visible.

“Hello, Luke.”

He bowed his head. “Thank you for coming, my lady.”

Even as a spirit Demeter was beautiful, with wide, deep eyes and flowers twined in her ghostly hair. She drifted a little closer as she appraised him.

“It’s been a few years, hasn’t it, my dear? And yet you haven’t aged a bit. What have you got for me this time? Fabulous jewels? Holy grails? Sacred statues?”

Her voice was faintly mocking, but after a hundred years’ acquaintance Luke was used to her ways.

“Once again, my lady, I beg you to restore my humanity.”

“And once again I ask you, why should I grant this request?”

“Because I’ve formed an attachment to a human girl.”

Demeter’s outline shimmered a little, as if disturbed by a breeze he couldn’t feel.

“I see,” she said gravely. “Rather inconvenient for you, I’m sure. And certainly unexpected. I think you’d better tell me about it.”

So he did. He told the story haltingly, and, he thought, clumsily, especially when he came to the events of last night. He didn’t want to sound like he expected a reward for good behavior…but wasn’t that exactly what he did want?

His story finished, Luke stood still and waited for the goddess’ verdict.

Demeter was quiet a moment, absently creating a flower out of thin air and twirling it between transparent fingers. “You’ve formed an attachment to her,” she said finally, “but she doesn’t have similar feelings for you.”

“That’s because I’m a vampire. If I were human…”

“If you were human, you think it would be different?”

He was silent.

Demeter tilted her head to the side. “I think you’re forgetting something, my child,” she said gently.

“What?”

“If you were human, you couldn’t help Kit with her quest. It’s because you’re a vampire that she came to you. Only a vampire can lead her into the land of the dead.”

Luke was taken aback. He
had
forgotten that. His desire for Kit had driven everything else into the background.

“What’s more important?” Demeter asked. “To help Kit save her brother, or to win her for yourself?”

“All right,” he growled. “I get it. And I withdraw my request. You’re the most annoying goddess in the pantheon, do you know that?”

“I do my best,” she said serenely. “But don’t give up, lad. It’s taken more than a century but I think you may actually be making progress.”

He stared at her. “Do you mean if I help Kit you’ll—”

“Now, Luke, you know it doesn’t work like that. I’ve told you before that there’s nothing you can do to buy back your humanity.”

“Then what
can
I do? Is it hopeless? If you would just tell me—”

“I’m sorry. But don’t despair, my dear. While there’s life there’s hope.”

“Very funny,” he muttered, but Demeter was gone.

It was ironic that after four hundred years of sending women on their way, now that he actually wanted to keep one around, they kept disappearing on him.