Undying Embrace (5 page)

Chapter Four

Arran rolled his Ninja into the parking lot beside Gabrielle’s car and killed the engine. She’d taken the news flash about Markus and Marguerite pretty much like he’d expected. She’d made an oath of determination right before she’d kicked him out of the car. She wasn’t a member of the Enclave in name only. It didn’t matter that she didn’t work patrol. She was as much a warrior as any of the males. Life hadn’t dealt her any favors. And she wasn’t one to lie down and let it bulldoze over her. She stood and fought for every inch of ground gained.

He waited for her to get out of the car, then removed his helmet.

“You didn’t need to follow me home,” she said over her shoulder, heading for the front door of a townhouse. He was surprised when she’d led him here instead of a hotel. The place must belong to her sister. He palmed his keys, slid off his bike, and shoved the keys in his pocket.

“I wasn’t going to let you leave alone after the info I just dumped on you,” he said as he came up behind her while she unlocked the door. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and to make sure you actually
went
home.”

“Oh my God, you are such an ass.” He could almost hear her eyes roll with that statement. She was right. He was an ass. But while he was here, he would be taking care of hers.

She flipped on the lights, and he followed her inside. The heels of her boots clicked on the hardwood floor of the foyer, echoing in the open stairwell of the two-story apartment. She couldn’t have been in town long, but the air in the place already carried her scent. He pulled in another slow, deep breath through his nostrils. His heart rate quickened. Honeysuckle. He wanted to smile but repressed the grin. Ironic that such a delicate and sweet fragrance emanated from the hellcat with whom he’d just been reacquainted.

Her keys clinked as she dropped them in a bowl on a table near the staircase. His gaze devoured her provocative profile. He’d never seen her dressed like she was tonight. Living with five male vampires within the Enclave walls, she had usually dressed a bit more conservatively. Not matronly, but definitely not this revealing. A short black leather skirt barely covered the lush curves of her ass, and a shirt that couldn’t have been more than a decked-out bra did its best to contain her full breasts. Shiny black leather boots wrapped her legs, highlighting the toned sweep of her calves. And the way her hips swayed with each step in those high heels… There could not be a repeat of tonight. Arran slowly shook his head. He would end up killing someone if she dressed like this again.

She turned her head to the side, facing him. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.” She shifted and faced him head-on. “You’ve been gone a long time, Arran. Things have changed.
I’ve
changed.”

“Maybe so. But you’re not taking on that colony alone. I can’t believe Logan let you come here without him.” Gabrielle turned her back, rearranging her purse on the table.
Shit
. He recognized that body language. “You didn’t tell him, did you?” Arran closed the distance between them.

“No. I didn’t need him here.” She looked up, fierce determination written on her face. “I can handle this. Alex needs me. And
I’m
going to be there for her.” She shifted to face him again, leaning her hip against the table. “I’m smart enough to know if—and when—I need help.”

Arran closed in, crowding her personal space, wanting a reaction. Aching for it, actually. Gabrielle straightened and took one step back but stopped and lifted her chin, refusing to cower and give him the reaction he itched for. She caught on quick.

“You think you have it all handled, lass?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You got it all under control?”

The amber color of her irises had grown molten. He allowed a small smile to pull at the corner of his mouth, loving the way she got all hot and bothered when he pushed her.

“Yes. I do.” The words had barely left her lips when she attacked, one leg coming out to catch the back of his ankle. Caught off guard, he stumbled.

Before Arran could regain his balance, Gabrielle had his wrist locked in her grip. Swinging his arm up, she spun underneath, twisted, and wrenched his arm up the middle of his back, then shoved him face-first into the wall.

Well, damn. Not bad
. “You’ve been training,” he mumbled against the Sheetrock.

“A little.” She sounded quite proud of herself. Gabrielle was good. She’d caught
him
by surprise. But she was human. A woman. And no match for a mature vampire. Especially more than one.

With a burst of speed, Arran pushed back, forcing her to release him instead of falling on her rear. He whirled, catching her before she hit the floor. In less than a second, their positions reversed. Except this time, he’d pinned her back against the wall, her hands imprisoned by his, over her head.

The position pushed her full breasts up, almost spilling them from her top.
Nice.
He lifted his gaze, prepared for a hard glare. If her eyes were molten earlier, they were near boiling now. Arran couldn’t have stopped the next words that spilled from his lips if he’d tried.

“I win.”

“You asshole!” Gabrielle squirmed and bucked against him like a feral cat. Instead of gaining her freedom, though, each maneuver jammed her tighter into his hold. Her every inhale shoved her breasts into his chest. Heat radiated off her body, threatening to scramble his brain. Before he knew he’d even moved, his lips hovered over hers. What made him stop, God only knew. Maybe it was the way she’d suddenly grown still? Or maybe it was the moment she’d parted her lips, releasing warm, peppermint-scented bursts of air that seduced his mind. So damn enticing. All he had to do was lean in one more inch, and he’d—

Fire shot up his arm. “Son of a…” Releasing her, he jumped back and flung his gaze to the offending limb. Blood.

A thin line of crimson blossomed along the outside of his bicep. She’d played him. Purposefully distracted him, so she could pull her hand free and reach for a blade that must have been hidden under her skirt and against her thigh.
The little minx.

Arran swiveled his head back in her direction. Air punched from his lungs.
Christ
. Blood surged to his cock. The overwhelming urge to stroke the rock-hard length at the sight of her was short-circuiting his brain. Gabrielle stood, one boot in front of the other, palming a short dagger. She was ready to fight.

He was ready to fuck.

Rocking from one foot to the other, he searched for the strength not to take what was his. Mentally, he shook his head.
No. She’s not yours, asshole
. But damn if his cock had the sense to listen.

“I know you weren’t about to kiss me, warrior. Were you?” Gabrielle raised a delicate brow and tilted her head. “Because last I heard before you walked away, my kiss was ‘forgettable.’”

Ouch
. Arran had a feeling that asinine comment from two years ago would come back to bite him in the ass. It had been a lie. And hurting her had nearly killed him. But wounding Gabrielle had been what he’d had to do. He’d wanted her to hate him, to forget about him—to move on.

“Give me the blade, Gabrielle.”

“This?” She twirled the dagger, then palmed the hilt and held it up for display. “You want it?” A devious smile lit her face. With her other hand, she beckoned him with her fingers. “Come and take it.”

Bad challenge, kitten
. A tremor started in his gut and worked its way up, until it was a buzz inside his brain. Every cell in his body wanted to take.

Mark.

Claim.

A gasp of air in her ear was the only indicator that he’d grabbed her. He didn’t remember the trip. Arran lifted her feet from the floor, whirled, and gently laid her on the stairs, pressing his hips, his chest into hers. He had to get his body next to hers. Everywhere. The dagger fell from her hand, rolling and thumping its way down the steps, each tumble a hollow
thud.

The loud percussions bypassed the noise inside his head and brought him to a dead halt. He lay with his hips between her legs, his groin pressed to hers. His mouth suspended above her lips. Arran lowered his gaze. God, how he loved the delicate line of her lips, a perfect bow. So full and pink. Her tongue darted out and moistened the lower one. There was no stifling the groan rolling from the back of his throat.

He looked up. Passion mixed with doubt and fear stared back at him. “I’m sorry.” The whispered words tumbled from his heart.

Gabrielle blinked, then swallowed. “Why?”

“For hurting you.”

Her eyelids lowered, and her breath hitched. Did she believe him? Was an apology enough for what he’d done? He’d walked away, leaving her to think he’d never wanted her, when the truth was, he’d wanted her more than his next breath. Sorry sounded so insignificant, compared to how much damage he’d done to her heart.

For years, he’d pushed the slow simmer of desire for her to the back of his mind, but now, having her this close, beneath him, it erupted into a full boil. His skin prickled, and the hairs on his body stood on end. The sound of Gabrielle’s heart was a thundering drumbeat inside his head.
She’s yours—take her. Look at her
. Gabrielle opened her eyes, her lips parted.
She wants you
.
She just can’t admit she’s forgiven you yet.
Arran jammed his eyelids closed, the voice of the beast inside his head chipped away at his control.
No! I won’t do that to her. She’s not ready. And never will be.

His chest hurt. Inside his gut, his stomach torqued into a knot of hunger driven by his lust for blood. Gabrielle’s.

He had to get out of there. His arms shook as he pushed himself back onto his heels. She came forward into a sitting position and wrapped her palm around his bicep. He clutched one of the spindles of the stair rail as a cold sheen of sweat popped from his pores, sending a shiver racing up his spine.

Arran grabbed her hand, unable to halt the snarl that followed. He jerked back, stumbling to his feet, and jammed his fangs into his bottom lip. The taste of his blood filled his mouth. He couldn’t breathe.

“Arran?”

Running both palms over his hair, he gulped for a mouthful of oxygen. “Uh…” He sucked in hard for another breath, unable to take his eyes off the target every cell of his being wanted to claim.
Get out!
One foot moved back. Then another. “I gotta go.”

“Wh-what? Why?” She jumped up from the stairs. Confusion creased her brow. Maybe hurt. But he had to go. She needed a man. A real man. Not him. He hadn’t been human for more than a century. Gabrielle wanted to pretend he was more than the monster who owned him. She was dead wrong.

There was no way she could handle the beast he kept checked in her presence. Not after the trauma she’d suffered from the fangs of a DEAD. How the hell could she ever get past that?

“There’s someplace I gotta be.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys as he turned for the door. Air. Now.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

He didn’t look back. “No joke,” he said with his hand on the doorknob. Arran yanked the door wide. He risked a glance over his shoulder. She stood, her eyes wide. “I’ll be in touch.” With the door closed behind him, he leaned on the warm wood for a second, drawing a greedy lungful of air. No honeysuckle. Nothing but the scent of pine and grass rode the air, battling for space with the fumes rolling off the nearby interstate. Thank God.

…

Elle watched the door close behind Arran. He’d left.

Wow.
Déjà vu?

After their first kiss the evening the mansion had been invaded, he’d walked away as if that had been a sinful mistake. Elle closed her eyes, and for a moment, she was there once again in Arran’s arms on the floor in the Enclave’s Headquarters. Every detail of that night flickered past her mind’s eye with crystal clarity. Never in her life had she been kissed the way Arran had taken her mouth. Hard. Dominant. Stealing her breath and her heart in the process. Then Logan’s booming voice had fractured the moment.

“What the fuck?” Two large hands grabbed Arran’s shoulders. Logan yanked Arran, tumbling Elle onto her rear, and spun him around into the opposite wall.

Then Logan
was
in Arran’s face. “You disgust me,” the other vampire had spat. “You save her from a DEAD, so that gives you the right to ram your tongue down her throat and paw all over her?”

“Wait a minute!” she yelled from behind them.

“Stay out of this.” Arran’s expression said he deserved everything Logan wanted to rain down on his head.

What the hell was going on?

Logan’s hand circled Arran’s throat, knocking the back of his head into the wall. “Don’t ever tell her what to do. You don’t deserve to breathe her exhale.”

Arran grew still under the pressure of his grip, submitting to the other warrior. So unlike the vampire she knew. Logan eased back, releasing his throat.

“You’re right,” Arran said.

“Arran, don’t. Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “You know that’s not true.”

“No, he’s right,” he continued. “About everything.” Sliding from around Logan, Arran met her gaze. “I’m sorry. I had no right to touch you. Please. Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

Her palm found her sternum, and she rubbed the growing ache behind the bone. The memory still hurt as if it had all happened yesterday and not a few years ago. And now, counting his exit from her and the Enclave, for a third time, he’d walked out on her. Dazed, she stood motionless, staring at the door until the hurt and anger inside had festered long enough. “You asshole.” And to think, a few seconds ago she was about to forgive him. Elle
wasn’t sure who she was more pissed at, herself or him.

Whirling around, she went for her keys. Metal clinked against the glass bowl as she wrapped her fingers around them before hurrying to the door. There was one thing she did know for sure. “Arran MacLain, you are not going to do this to me again without a damn good explanation.”