Duncan (37 page)

Emma nodded. “Yes.” And then swore to herself privately because Stavros had figured it out before she did. Obviously, Duncan and his vampires slept somewhere in the basement, not on the second floor as she’d assumed. And it was equally obvious that there had to be some sort of underground escape hatch. She didn’t find this sudden epiphany very reassuring, however, since it wasn’t much of an escape hatch if it counted on someone digging from up above. It was like drilling a rescue hole to trapped miners. They could be anywhere, and how did you know whether the rescue hole was going to be in the same place where the miners were?

Not knowing what else to say, she handed Stavros a bottle of water, then froze when Alaric shouted and everyone stopped digging. Emma stared from one of them to another, as they grabbed their equipment and began hurriedly pulling back.

“What’s going on?” she asked Alaric when he strode over to the garage and began urging her inside the structure. He didn’t answer, just stepped in front of her, blocking her body as a shock wave of air roared across the yard and the earth exploded.

* * * *

Duncan forced himself to wait until all of his people were gathered in what would have been the vault. He could hear digging from above, probably Alaric’s people. They’d been staying very nearby, and the old vampire would know Duncan’s most likely escape route. Duncan was also aware of Emma, and knew she was very close. The thought of Emma, of what could have happened if she’d been asleep upstairs, finally cracked his patience.

“Stand back.”
He sent the warning to all of the vampires up above, but his own people heard it and knew what it meant. They straightened eagerly, as anxious as he was to escape their erstwhile prison. The digging stopped, and Duncan gathered his power into a single, concentrated blow, as if his fist were made of iron and the wall nothing but sand. He shot his arm forward, the gesture no more than a physical manifestation of the powerful force which slammed into the concrete wall, cracked it like an egg and exploded outward through nearly ten feet of solid earth.

There were cheers all around, from the people outside, both human and vampire, and from his own vampires as fresh night air flooded the tunnel. A hand reached down through the muddy hole and Duncan grabbed it. He heard Alaric’s roar of greeting before he’d gone two steps and looked up to see the wiry vampire bearing down on him with a grin.

“Duncan,” Alaric shouted. “About damn time, my lord!”

They embraced, slapping backs.

“Your woman’s a tough little lady,” Alaric growled against his ear. “Handled them human honchos like she was a four star general and them buck privates,” he added, chuckling.

Duncan looked over Alaric’s shoulder, his gaze finding Emma in the deep shadows beneath a drooping tree on the other side of the yard. She stood motionless, staring at him, her hands clasped against her mouth. He slapped Alaric’s shoulder and stepped aside, starting toward her. She watched him come, her violet eyes dark, a suspicious sheen telling him she’d been crying. Her heartbeat raced faster with every step he took. When he drew close enough, her hands fell away from her face and she ran forward, his name on her lips as she threw herself into his arms.

“Duncan,” she cried, then sucked back a sobbing breath.

“Emmaline,” he whispered against her ear, burying his face in the warm silk of her hair, filling his arms with her softness, and drowning himself in the scent and touch of her.

“I was afraid—” she started, but he shushed her, covering her mouth with his lips and drinking her in, feeling her arms tighten against his neck as the kiss deepened, as their tongues met, twisting around each other hungrily. Duncan broke off the kiss reluctantly, aware of his vampires and everyone else watching them.

“I love you, Emmaline,” he whispered. “I’ll show you how much as soon as I find us some privacy.”

“Oh,” Emma breathed, her cheeks flushing and eyes growing wide, as if aware of the onlookers for the first time.

Duncan laughed gently. “It was just a kiss,” he murmured, touching his mouth to hers quickly.

“Not
just
a kiss,” Emma corrected him. “One hell of a kiss.”

Duncan laughed loudly, tugging her against his chest for a hard hug, before taking her hand and turning to face the others. “Jackson,” he said, searching the faces.

“Yes, my lord.” Jackson Hissong stepped out from where he was conferring with Miguel and Louis.

“What do we know?”

Jackson came closer and said quietly, “We’ve a man in custody, my lord. But perhaps we should take this conversation to the other house. Some of what needs to be said—”

“Of course,” Duncan said immediately. “And we could all use a shower and some nutrition, as well. What about the daytime guards?”

“With your permission, my lord, I’ll have them remain on duty to secure the site until your vampires can relieve them.”

Duncan exchanged a look with Miguel who said, “The traitor has been secured. Jackson does not believe the rest of his men were involved, although we’ll check each of them before they leave to be sure.”

Duncan nodded. “Very well. Emma and I will go ahead to the other house, and we’ll convene there once everyone’s had a chance to clean up. I’ll want the prisoner made available to me.”

“Of course, my lord,” Miguel said, then turned away to begin organizing the guard rotation and departure.

Duncan dropped an arm over Emma’s shoulder and began walking toward the ten foot wall which shielded the property from a path along the river. Emma sucked in a surprised breath when he opened a small control box and entered a code on the keypad concealed there. With a soft whir of noise, a hidden gate popped out of the smooth wall.

“Where are we going?” she asked, puzzled.

“A moonlight stroll along the river,” Duncan teased.

“Very romantic,” she murmured, leaning against his side. “But I’d rather have a hot shower.”

Duncan laughed. “Will you share?”

“Only if you tell me where we’re going.”

“As Jackson said, to the other house.”

“I didn’t know there
was
another house!”

“I’m a vampire lord, Emma. There’s
always
another house.”

* * * *

Emma let her head fall back as the blessedly hot water streamed through her hair, washing away shampoo along with hours of sweat and soot. She straightened and finger-combed some conditioner in, then reached back and pulled the bulk of her wet hair over one shoulder, letting the water pound the stress from her back. Sighing with pleasure, she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it between her hands, generating a thick lather that had only a faint clean scent. No flowery soaps for Duncan, apparently, which was fine with her. She lifted her soapy hands to her face and began to wash gently, trying not to think about what the bar soap was doing to her skin. One night wouldn’t kill her, and besides the oily residue of black soot left behind by the smoke and fire probably needed something stronger than her usual facial cleanser. She’d moisturize extra tomorrow to make up for it, once she could get to her own things. That thought made her pause. The things she’d left at Duncan’s were gone, although, thank God, she’d had her laptop with her. Everything else was easily replaceable. Besides, Duncan had survived and that’s all that mattered.

And speak of the devil . . . She caught a blurred shadow of movement before the shower door opened and the vampire himself stepped inside. Emma ran an admiring eye up and down his naked body. The mud and dirt which had made her look like a refugee only made him look more masculine, more dangerous. He bumped her carefully with his hip, one arm snaking out to circle her waist as he pushed her out of the flow of hot water.

“Water hog,” she complained halfheartedly.

“Says the woman who’s all shiny clean,” he commented, then backed up a step, pulling her under the spray with him. Emma sputtered briefly before burying her face against his chest.

“You’re getting me dirty,” she muttered, but she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist, running her hands over the firm muscles of his back. He was like a work of art, every muscle perfectly defined and flowing elegantly over tendons and bones.

Duncan tipped his head back into the spray as she’d done earlier, letting the water run through his long, blond hair. She reached behind him and grabbed the shampoo. He was too tall for her to wash his hair comfortably, so she settled for squirting a fair amount of the gel on his wet hair, then standing back to admire the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders as he scrubbed the mud away.

“God, this feels good,” he said, rinsing his hair clean.

“Being clean?” Emma asked.

“No.” He opened his eyes and gave her a slow smile. “Being naked with you.” His hands came down to grip her hips, and he backed her against the tile wall. “Having my hands on you.” His hands dropped to her butt and he lifted her effortlessly, pressing forward until her legs wrapped around his narrow hips. She could feel his erection, hard and heavy against her thigh, as he rubbed against her gently, teasing her.

“Duncan,” she whispered, pleading. But he wasn’t ready to give in to her pleas. Not yet. One hand came up between them to cover her breast, his thumb playing over her nipple until it was full and hard. He bent his head to nip lightly at the plump flesh.

“I worried about you, Emmaline,” he murmured, lapping at the same nipple he’d just bitten, and then biting harder until she cried out, her legs tightening around his hips as her sex clenched in need.

“Me, too,” she gasped, grabbing a handful of his wet hair and tugging. “For you, I mean.”

“Ouch.” Duncan looked up and grinned, his hips never ceasing their maddening thrusting motion, letting her feel the length of his cock, so close, but not where she wanted it, not where she
needed
it.

“Duncan, so help me, if you don’t—”

She cried out as, without warning, he plunged his full length deep between her legs, stretching her wide despite her readiness, slamming forward until their hips met with a slap of wet flesh. He waited then, watching her as she struggled to catch her breath, as her body softened to accommodate him.

“If I don’t what?” he asked silkily.

Emma pulled his head forward, tugging him into a breathless kiss. It was warm and wet and soft, a slow caress of lips and tongue while below, her inner muscles flexed around his shaft with the same rhythm. Duncan hissed as his cock jerked in response, and Emma lifted her head slowly, licking her tongue along the curve of his mouth before whispering, “I love you, Duncan.”

Duncan met her gaze, his expression completely serious as he began a slow, steady movement, the tight muscles of his ass clenching as his hips thrust forward and back between her legs, his erection a shaft of warm stone sheathed in satin as he repeatedly withdrew until only the very tip remained inside her, then slid deep into her body once more, a long, smooth glide of flesh into flesh. Emma crossed her ankles over his butt, trapping him between her thighs. Her arms were around his neck, her fingers threaded through his hair. Duncan’s mouth moved over her face, kissing her eyes, her jaw and down to her neck. His tongue was cool against her overheated flesh as he licked the sweat and water from her skin, as he sucked hard over her jugular vein. Emma smiled to herself, thinking she’d have a hickey in the morning. She hadn’t had one of those in—

She groaned with arousal as his fangs pierced her vein, as the first powerful orgasm rocketed through her body, clenching her womb and tightening her breasts. Every stroke of Duncan’s rigid length produced a fresh jolt of incredible sensation, wave after wave of pleasure, as if her nerves were bare and his cock a brush of silk against them. Emma began thrusting in time with his movements, wanting him to join her, wanting to feel that moment when he lost control and tumbled over the edge with her.

His fangs still buried in her neck, Duncan groaned. The sound vibrated against her skin and raced through her veins, rumbling over her breasts and down between her legs to shiver along the length of his cock. He lifted his head, and his tongue lapped quickly at the small puncture wounds before he crushed his mouth over hers, sharing the taste of her blood. Emma met his kiss hungrily, biting as she fought to get closer to him, licking his lips in apology when she felt the warm flow of his blood, but relishing the rush of heat that came with it.

Duncan growled and began fucking her, pounding her against the wet tile, protecting her with his arms around her back as he slammed forward harder and harder, until Emma thought the tiles would surely crack under the strain. Snarling hungrily, he lifted her higher, changing the angle of his penetration, going even deeper than before, his thickness tormenting the sensitive flesh of her inner walls until her body was trembling with arousal and begging for release. Duncan slid the fingers of one hand along the crease of her ass, caressing the strip of skin stretched taut with his penetration, before dipping his finger into the tight pucker of her star. Emma gasped as a second orgasm screamed along her nerves, jumping like lightening from the touch of his hand to the thrust of his cock and up to her swollen breasts, which were crushed against his powerful chest. She bit down on his shoulder, trying to swallow the scream that surged up her throat, overwhelmed by the sensations storming every inch of her body. Her sex clamped down on Duncan’s cock as he began to buck against her, his hot release coating her womb as her teeth broke the skin of his shoulder, and he lifted his head to howl his climax.

* * * *

Duncan leaned heavily against Emma, holding her up as much with the press of his body as the grip of his hands on her sweet ass. She’d wrung him dry. Or maybe it was the hot shower that was still drumming against his back, matching the heat of Emma against his chest. Her arms were loose over his shoulders, her ankles still locked around his hips, while her eager little tongue continued to lap the blood from his shoulder. He rested a hand gently against the back of her head, encouraging her. The more of his blood she took, the tighter the bond would be between them. His shoulder pulsed as he remembered the feel of her teeth in his flesh, and he grinned. She was a wildcat, his Emma. And she
was
his.