The Slayer (28 page)

Read The Slayer Online

Authors: Theresa Meyers

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Historical, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Paranormal

BOOK: The Slayer
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“Are you certain this hulk can hold together long enough to get us to America?” Alexa asked with asperity, as she folded her arms over her chest.
Le Renaud lifted her chin and tugged her hat firmly back on her head, making the sad, wilted feathers bob. “She'll hold right enough. Might look a bit old-fashioned, but that's just because I've got a soft spot for the romance of the seas.” She threw a saucy glance at Winn, which he studiously tried to ignore.
Alexa persisted in being vexed. “But it's an airship.”
The pirate locked gazes with her. “Don't matter if she sails the seas or the skies, she's wicked fast and near impossible to catch.” She obviously loved her ship.
Winn cleared his throat, causing both women to turn toward him. “I thought pirates tried not to be obvious. Kind of hard not to be noticed in a ship like this, with such an unusual crew.”
“Didn't know sneaky and male was what you were looking for,” the pirate countered. “In my experience sneaky is nice, but fast is better. And these women, they're the most loyal crew I've ever worked with. Besides”—she looked Winn up and down, her gaze assessing and very female—“who are you hiding from?”
“We all have our secrets, Captain.”
A small smile curled her lips, deepening the dimple, and she gave Winn a slight nod of acknowledgment. “America's a vast place. Where exactly are we headed?”
“California,” Winn said without further explanation.
Le Renaud's eyes widened with appreciation. “Gold country.”
Sure, in some parts, he supposed. Winn nodded. “The sooner we get there, the sooner you can find out for yourself.”
The pirate captain began shouting orders to her crew. Beneath their feet the ship shuddered, then began to rise into the misty gray clouds, the whopping of the propellers turning to a low hum as they spun faster.
A hatch in the deck opened up, and out popped the head of a crew member clad in a goggled leather hood. She pulled back the hood to reveal damp copper curls and a face that looked so like Marley's that it shocked him. “Captain, we need more water!”
“Bring out the wings!” Le Renaud shouted. Levers on deck were pulled, and with the clank of gears, a huge brass apparatus that looked like bat wings, with long ribs and thin metal sheeting stretched between them, extended from the sides of the ship. Alexa leaned over the edge of the ship, her eyes assessing.
Despite her attitude toward the captain, Winn knew Alexa well enough by now to know that the ins and outs of how the airship worked would fascinate her agile mind. Inventor's heat, they called it—the fevered state the brain reached when an inventor like Marley or Alexa became absorbed by some new idea. He knew the feeling, not because he was in the midst of invention but because of the fevered state she'd created in him. Now was certainly not the time or place, but soon enough he was going to get her alone.
 
 
Alexa stared at the wings, trying to take in all the details so she could sketch it down later. “Those are the strips alongside the ship,” she murmured, looking at the wings, which connected to the front of the boat in a fan-like manner. They rose and fell slowly through the misty air, the thin metal gathering moisture as they rose higher through the clouds, the ground falling away into a patchwork of roads and country lanes, then fields and farms. Alexa turned back to the captain. “Surely those aren't what keep us afloat.”
The captain recognized Alexa's fascination, and her prickly demeanor softened slightly; the topic of the ship diverted her attention away from Winchester. “They don't provide the lift, but they do help us float in a manner of speaking. The metal sheeting catches the smallest amount of moisture in the air, and as the wings rise, they channel the water into the holding tanks through those ports at the base of the wings.”
Alexa frowned. She could see the small brass catch basin at the base of the wings. “For steam power.”
The captain nodded with approval, then glanced at the closed hatch, where the crew member had now disappeared. “Octavia, our engineer, is in charge of replenishing the metal sodium bars in our chemical thermal engines.”
“The sodium reacts with the water and heats it,” Alexa said, impressed. She sensed the heat of Winchester's gaze lingering on her, and glanced at him to find his intense blue eyes riveted to her as if he mentally were undressing her right there on the ship's deck. Alexa bit her lip and looked away, profoundly glad vampires didn't blush.
She cleared her throat and gazed at the captain. “But what of the hydrogen byproduct? And how do you keep the sodium from reacting to the air?”
Pleased with her own ingenuity, Le Renaud's smile widened. “We store the metal bars in barrels of mineral oil. It's crude but efficient. The hydrogen is funneled into the large air bladder installed in the ballast holds of the ship during its conversion. It's what provides the lift we need to stay airborne.”
A cool, constant breeze caressed Alexa's face as they rose higher into the air. Alexa tapped her finger against the side of the ship trying to imagine it all below her feet, including a possible cabin with a bed, which made tingles race across her skin. She studiously tried to ignore Winchester, but the needs of her body warred with the intellectual pursuits of her mind. “And the steam it produces does what?” she asked the captain.
“It drives the propellers for direction and speed. Ingenious, no?”
Indeed it was. She damn well wished she'd thought of it. So much more elegant than the gas-fueled steam engines on Vladimir's airship. The gentle swish of the metal wings as they cut through the air, their metallic surface streaked with shining beads of moisture, was accompanied by the hum of the propellers.
Alexa found she had a new respect for the dingy old ship. It was truly an invention worthy of the likes of Sir Marley Turlock.
“And what of the sails?” Alexa persisted, possessed to know every detail so she could record it later, even though Winchester was a constant distraction when this close, with his broad shoulders and sensual smile.
“When the winds are right, they relieve the engines; and when the winds aren't right, they look pretty.”
Alexa reluctantly gave the captain a smile. She couldn't help herself. She appreciated both the extraordinary mechanics of Le Renaud's ship as well as the fact that they shared a mutual appreciation for things as beautiful as they were functional. “I would love to see your engines, if I may, Captain.”
Le Renaud bent her head. “It would be my pleasure to accompany you and Mr. Jackson below decks.”
Winchester cleared his throat. “We've got a long journey ahead of us. Perhaps there may be another time to see the engines after we've settled in?”
Alexa turned and found him focused solely on her, his gaze so intense and heated, it neared a physical caress. A delicious shiver skated over her skin, causing her breasts to grow heavy and sensitive.
Trust me.
His simple words made her mind spin with the possibilities.
All thoughts of the engine and potential inventions fled her mind. She glanced back at the captain. “I am a bit tired.” She yawned and hid it lightly with her hand just to add legitimacy to the show.
Le Renaud waved her hand with a flourish and gave a small bow. “Another time then. Let me show you your quarters. Follow me.” They couldn't move fast enough for Alexa's taste.
They crossed the decks toward the forecastle of the ship, and tramped down a set of stairs to below deck. Unlike the metal wings, chemical reactor engine, and propellers, this part of the ship had not been updated. It smelled musty, a blend of old wood and lemon oil. The dimly lit wooden hall was so narrow Winchester found he had to turn his shoulders sideways to walk through it without getting himself wedged. The entire time Alexa admired the breadth of his shoulders and thought about what it might be like to have his strong arms wrapped around her.
Le Renaud walked ahead of them, and toward the end of the hall she pointed at a single door. “Here's your berth.” She turned her gaze toward Winchester. “Please let me know if
you
need anything.”
Alexa stiffened, a red burning anger welling up in her throat at the pirate's unspoken offer to Winn. She kept herself from tearing the captain into little tiny bits. Alexa caught herself. Anger? No. Jealousy. Since when had she ever been jealous because of a man? Never. But then, no man before Winn had made her feel unstable on her own feet. And while she had come to love Ivan in the two centuries they were together as man and wife, their attraction to one another paled in comparison to the white-hot reaction Winchester inspired in her. Unable to pass them in the hall until they entered the room, Le Renaud waited.
Well, she knew how to show the pirate how futile her offers were. Alexa curved her hand around the rough surface of Winchester's strong jaw, reveling in the feel of it, and lifted up on her toes, placing a soft, sensual kiss on his mouth. The touch of his firm, sculpted lips coupled with the rasp of his shadow of a beard ricocheted through her, making her stomach flip and increasing the steady throb building at the apex of her thighs. His mustache had grown longer, and it now tickled her cheeks.
Winchester pulled back, his eyes bright and hot with need. “Excuse us,” he muttered to the captain as he opened the door of their cabin, swept Alexa inside, and quickly shut the door behind them.
The small, well-lit room barely allowed them to stand side by side. Most of the miniscule cabin was taken up by the bed built into the wall, for which Alexa was immensely grateful.
If Alexa had had a heartbeat, it would have been in her throat. As it was her ichor simply swelled and rushed, making every inch of her achingly aware of the very virile man who was staring at her with hungry eyes. His heartbeat, hard and strong, seemed to fill the room and echo the building pulse of need the kiss had started in her.
“Is this a damn game to you?” he growled, looking every inch uncivilized and wild. The porcelain bowl and pitcher on the washstand beside Winn rattled as he brushed past it when he stepped toward her.
“She certainly wanted it to be.”
“And what about you, Tessa. What do you want?” Raw sexual intensity radiated off of him in a heat wave that warmed her skin. Alexa fought back the urge to back up a step at the untamed wild power of him, and yet it thrilled her. Instead she lifted her chin a notch and dropped her lashes a fraction. Here in this little room there were no social expectations. No nobles watching over her shoulder, no other Darkin to report her actions.
She'd contemplated for far too many hours exactly what it might feel like to let herself fly free with this man, to feel his hands upon her like a lover. The hairs on her body lifted as a shiver started on her scalp then shimmied down her spine, making her skin heat and her breasts grow taut. Alexa reached up and pulled the pins from her hair, letting the thick, dark coils and curls of it fall down her back.
His eyes widened slightly, and he swallowed hard. Winn reached forward with a shaking hand and raked his fingers through her hair. “So damn beautiful,” he murmured. “I've always wondered what you looked like with your hair down.”
“I thought you wondered what I had hidden in my skirts,” she teased. She leaned into him so that her sensitive breasts pressed into his chest, finding relief in the rasp of them against him as he brushed his mouth with hers.
A sexy half smile curved his bottom lip, and he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her hips toward him. “That too,” he growled as he pressed his erection against her.
“You asked me what I want.” Alexa rocked herself against the hard ridge cradled against her thigh and right hip, trying to ease the growing ache to feel him. “I want you,” she said boldly, grabbing the edges of his jacket and shoving the garment off of him. His eyes grew fever bright in response. “So stop being a gentleman and get this damn corset off of me.”
Chapter 22
Winn crushed his mouth down on hers, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers in a sensual slide. His stubbled chin abraded her sensitive skin. An unbridled groan of appreciation echoed in Alexa's chest as their kiss intensified. Deep within she contracted with wanting and melted with desire and desperate need, making her body a taut string ready to be plucked by his fingers. The confines of the small cabin made it difficult to maneuver as their arms and hands became a blur. They blindly tried to undress one another in a frenzied rush.
His pack and weapons were hastily discarded. Buttons flew and ricocheted against the wooden walls as she tore at his vest, rucked the shirt out of his pants, and ripped it off of him. He'd managed to undo more than half of the little buttons at the top of her gown, but it wasn't nearly enough, and her corset needed to be done away with. Alexa pulled away from his mind-bending kiss. “This is madness,” she panted.
Winn stiffened, his gaze suddenly tortured. “You're not asking me to stop, are you?”
“Gods, no. But there's just too many damn clothes!” She snapped her fingers, and both his and her clothing evaporated into nothing but smoke, leaving her scandalously and tantalizingly bare against him.
Alexa gasped at the sensation, reveling in the searing heat of his skin and the firm rigid planes of his glorious body. His arms, chest, and back were far more muscular, more scarred than she'd anticipated through his clothing, attesting to his hard, physical life, rather than one of leisure. The dark dusting of hair upon his chest teased her breasts and arrowed down to the hard silken length of his penis, which jutted out proudly.
She grasped it, exploring him with her hands. Winchester shuddered and groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “My God, are you trying to kill me?”
Alexa gave a throaty laugh. “Rest assured, if you do die, I'll bring you back again so we can repeat the process.” Behind the folds of her soft gum tissue, her fangs throbbed and ached for release, echoing the very real needs at the core of her.
Winn growled, lifting her up off her feet, the length of her naked body pressed from mouth to knee against his. As he held her there with one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hot hand cupped the globe of her breast, teasing the nipple into an even tighter bud with the rough pad of his thumb.
“Ummm, more. Just there,” Alexa sighed. She felt him smile against her skin, the scratchy surface of his cheek making her skin even more sensitive.
He bent his head, and his mustache brushed the sensitive nub, causing sparks to fly before her eyes, but when he sucked at the hardened peak, then grazed it lightly with his teeth, shocks of pleasure rippled outward, causing Alexa to arch. She made an incoherent sound deep in her throat that dissolved into panting. Every sound seemed louder, from the thud of his heart to the whisper of his lashes against her skin. Every sensation amplified a hundredfold as her world coalesced into a single focal point of the man who held her like a precious bit of porcelain in his arms.
“Not fair,” she murmured.
“I think it's completely fair. You've only tortured me for several days,” he chuckled.
She squirmed in his arms, forcing him to let her down. The long, sensual slide of her slick skin against his only escalated her desire, turning her body into one throbbing beat that matched his roaring pulse. Alexa gazed up into his chiseled face. “When have I tortured you?”
“Every time you walked in front of me, with those damn skirts swaying. When we had to crawl through the tunnel, and I had that exquisite bottom of yours in front of me but couldn't touch it.” He reached down and cupped her rear in his hands to illustrate his point.
“Umm, what else?” Alexa said as she went up on her tiptoes to make it easier for him. His fingers traced the seam along her bottom until they encountered the warm liquid core of her, slick with need.
He groaned, closing his eyes.
“You were saying?”
“Every breath I've had to take, saturated with the scent of you.”
He slipped a finger into her, and Alexa trembled at the sensation of him touching her swollen flesh in the slow, rhythmic motion, making her feel suddenly hollow and ache for the feel of all of him. “You do rather breathe a lot,” she murmured. “And with every beat of your heart you've tortured me as well.” Her bloodlust, so closely tied to her physical desire, raged beneath her senses, carefully controlled but begging for satisfaction.
He opened his eyes a crack and kissed her, his tongue sliding in and out against hers in a mimic of his clever fingers, laving her fangs. Each suck and pull at her fang might as well have been at the small bud hidden within her folds, for she felt them both equally.
She broke apart from him, unable to keep the red haze from seeping into her vision. “See, you're doing it right now.”
“How?”
“Do you have any idea how sensitive fangs are?”
His mouth tipped up in a lopsided, cocky grin. “I do now.” And to prove his point he kissed her thoroughly, paying special attention to her fangs. Alexa shuddered under the onslaught, desperate to quell the throbbing ache that demanded she take him.
He pulled back and gazed at her, adoration in his eyes, making Alexa's heart swell. Men had always looked at her, but none had made her feel she was precious to them—not for her title, or what she owned, or even for what she could give them, but simply for being her.
“I've been nothing but a gentleman,” he teased.
Alexa grasped the hard silken length of him in her hand, her finger sliding up and over the glistening tip. “Is that so?”
 
 
Winn thought he might disgrace himself right then and there, with her soft hand stroking from base to head, making him buck. “Unless you say different,” he amended quickly, sucking in a breath, then blowing it out slowly.
She was exquisite. Her supple body and skin were smoother and hotter than any shot of whiskey, inflaming him to the point he thought his brain might actually fry.
He realized with a jolt that the jasmine scent of her, so dark and mysterious, was not some artificial scent applied to her skin or some expensive soap or cream, but her own natural arousal, which made him inhale even more deeply. “You are like no one else I've ever seen.”
She pushed against him, far stronger than he'd anticipated, as fragile and graceful as her long limbs were. The edge of the bunk caught against the back of his knees, causing him to topple to the blue wool blankets.
Alexa climbed over him, a knee on either side, and straddled him, pressing the wet heat of her against his penis. “And when have you ever seen a vampire like this?” she asked with a saucy toss of her head and a roll of her hips, her creamy breasts, with their pale pink pearls at the tips, thrust out for his touch.
He hissed at the silken slide of her. The tease worked in reverse, ratcheting her own need further and causing her mouth to part. He reached up and stroked her smooth cheek, his eyes lingering on the rosy, bee-stung lips swollen from their ardent kisses, the twin white points of her fangs. “It's not because you're a vampire,” he said as he lightly touched one of the fangs with the tip of his finger, “it's because you're you.”
He lost all ability to think the moment she took hold and slid the tip of him into her heated folds. Her body closed around his with a slick heat that seared away all pain, all worry, all honor or duty. Only the two of them existed in this little corner of paradise. The throbbing ache that had been building in his groin now consumed his entire body. Each pulse washed through him like one enormous heartbeat even in his fingers and toes.
She rocked her hips, indulging in the slow slide of him. Winn grasped the delicious curves of her, letting the heels of his hands rest against the flair of her hips. They matched their rhythm to one another, a dance of desire, neither wanting to finish. But the song became more frenetic.
“Winn,” she groaned. “Will you let me?”
She ground against him. The pleasure overrode the fear and rendered his judgment useless. He knew she wanted to feed from him, and Pa forgive him, he wanted her to. “Taste me,” he begged, wanting to pleasure her as much as she had him.
She leaned into him, her slick breasts rubbing against his chest as she moved with him inside of her. Alexa nuzzled his neck, her soft, warm tongue licking a hot path, before she sank her fangs into him, slowly, completely, just as he had sunk himself to the hilt into her. Pleasure, pure and potent, flooded his system like a flow of heated honey, viscous and thick, making his heart pound and sparks dance before his eyes. Her in him and him in her created a circle of living, sparkling energy and ecstasy. He felt the flow between them, the exchange of more than just pleasure, but of soul. Winn cried out as her body shuddered and arched above him, driving him over the edge of the blessed abyss with her.
 
 
For the first time Alexa knew utter bliss. Her fangs retracted, and she kissed his neck, laving the twin indentions in his skin so they would heal faster.
She'd never fed like that from a mortal in the midst of sex, where there was more than blood or carnal lust involved, but actual devotion as well. It was both a heady and humbling experience. While he hadn't said he loved her, he'd given himself to her in every way possible. His life force, strong and powerful, circulated in her veins like a sparkling aphrodisiac. She collapsed, utterly boneless upon him, their sweat-slicked skin fusing together, his warm breath in her hair as he stroked her skin gently with the tips of his fingers. He rolled them side by side, holding her in his arms. Her skin was tender from the burn of his whiskers, but it made her feel alive. So very alive.
Alexa gazed up into his face. The blue of his eyes was soft and distant like an endless, tranquil sea. “Why did you let me feed?” she asked softly.
He touched her lips with his fingers, slowly caressing the bottom one. “I would do anything for you.” He kissed her tenderly.
Warmth unfurled inside Alexa's chest, infusing her entire body, but not the heat of bloodlust or even something so mundane as passion. It was more than that. It was the surety that she loved this man without reserve and would follow him to the Gates of Nyx itself to stand by his side.
Her fingers plied lazy circles through the whirls of his chest hair. “So why is it I couldn't read your thoughts when we first met?”
He tugged her hand, moving it down the sheet until it met the firm ridge of his slick erection. “Can you tell what I'm thinking now?”
Alexa nipped him on the shoulder, and his pupils dilated. “I was being serious.”
Winn's chest rose in a heavy sigh. “My pa taught me how to block Darkin when I was very young.” She edged closer, letting her bare breasts press against his side. “What else did he teach you?”
“I was loading shotgun shells for him by the time I was three, and shooting my own shotgun by the time I was five.” His fingertips lightly traced down the narrow channel on her back, following her spine, then slid back up again.
“How old were you when you first killed a Darkin?”
“Six.”
So young. “You never even had a childhood, then.”
“Nope.”
“And the rest of your family, were they trained as well?”
“Everyone but my mother. She was innocent.” He stiffened slightly beneath her, but her body recognized the same paralyzing fear that had frozen her solid when she'd realized Ivan's tortured screams had stopped because he was irrevocably gone.
“What happened?” she asked softly.
“It was an accident. Least that's what Pa kept sayin'.”
“But you didn't believe him.”
His gaze connected with hers. Pain and anguish swirled in those dark blue depths, along with a heavy dose of self-loathing. “I shot her. I killed her. My mother died because of me. I was aiming for a demon, and he vanished, leaving her to take the bullet.”
She didn't argue. It would have been pointless. Just from the look on his face, she could tell that no one could convince him he hadn't been responsible for her death. “How old were you?”
His gaze became unfocused as he looked away. “Twelve.”
Alexa gently brushed at the thick fall of nearly black hair that hung heavy over his brow. “No matter what has happened in the past, Winn, you can only go forward.”
He nodded, but it was stiff and slow, an automatic reaction, not agreement. He leaned into the touch of her hand, seeking solace. “You can't take something like that back. Not ever.”
“Do your brothers know?”
Winn slowly shook his head. “And they ain't ever gonna know. It was mine and Pa's secret.”
A small shimmer of hope sparkled in her chest. He'd trusted her enough to share something he hadn't even told his brothers. “You're still a good man, Winn. No matter what you've done.”

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