Untouchable Lover (14 page)

Regret warred with desire as she stared at the finest male specimen she had ever seen. His bare chest brought back memories of her hands running all over those tight muscles. Her fingers tingled in return.
 

“You needed this and seemed to enjoy the feeding just fine. Why, all of a sudden, is it wrong?”
 

His angry words bit into her, raking across her psyche like sharp knives. He stood tall and proud, every bit the king that he was.

“Because the blood craving affected us both way too much.” Melissa’s entire body shook. Her frayed nerves, heightened by the raw power of Noeh’s blood, fueled her desire for him.
 

His gaze evaluated her, piercing her, searching, as if he knew she was holding something back. He didn’t call her on it, but his marking for truth pulsed above his right eye. Lifting his head, he gave her a curt nod.

“Thank you, King Noeh. I appreciate your gift of life-giving blood.”
 

She bowed and walked as gracefully as possible to the door of her adjoining room. Aware of his penetrating gaze, she hesitated. All she wanted to do was run back into his strong, warm embrace, but instead, she entered her room. As she closed the door, she peered at him. His eyes were still amber, his features fierce and powerful. Against her will, she desired him with every fiber in her body.
 

*****

Noeh stared at the closed door. Melissa was on the other side, but her unique fragrance still lingered in the air. She’d fed from him, drove him crazy with desire, then left him cold. Frustration raced up his back, into his shoulders and neck. His muscles tensed until he clenched his jaw so tight his teeth hurt. There was no question that he desired her, but she was right. The blood craving must be responsible. She’d warned him. Because of that, he couldn’t blame her for leaving. He’d let himself get caught up in the sensation.

He ran his hand through his hair. What he needed was a distraction.

On his desk lay his sketchpad. Drawing always calmed him and provided clarity when he needed it. After sitting down at the table, he grabbed his favorite graphite pencil and started sketching.
 

His strokes were harsh, the lines dark with his annoyance. The image didn’t come at first as he brushed the end of the pencil against the stark white paper. With time and patience, he relaxed, and let his hands take over. The lines became more rounded, the strokes less intense. The scratchy sound of the graphite against the paper calmed him, allowing him to close his eyes and let his feelings drive the pencil. He worked faster and faster, pouring his emotions into his work.
 

The room warmed as he labored, the Keep sensing his heightened state. A drop of sweat formed along his brow. He continued, his eyes darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. His drawings always provided him a message, some form of guidance, and he refused to look at the page until he was done. If he opened his eyes now, he wouldn’t be able to finish, and the message would be forever lost. Although he couldn’t see the drawing, he knew an image formed in the rough outline. Details began to emerge, and still, he continued on. His motions slowed, and the pencil stilled.
 

Noeh opened his eyes. Adrenaline spiked through his body. His vision narrowed, the sketch becoming pinpoint clear.
No,craya, no. This isn’t possible!
 

He pushed back from the desk, knocking the chair over. He stared at the paper. His legs almost gave out. The picture was one he would never forget, not in a thousand years. An image of Melissa peered back at him, wearing the queen’s necklace.

Chapter Nineteen

Demir lounged on the extra-long bed, one built for a Stiyaha, his boots crossed at the ankles. His new residence was much smaller than the one back home in Denver. This room contained a bed, a table, and two chairs—a far cry from the opulence he’d left behind. This wouldn’t do, no, not at all. He smoothed his goatee, over and over, until his fingers tingled from the coarse bristles.
 

“Hellloooo!” Aramie waved her hands in front of Demir’s face.
 

He clamped his jaw. “Yeah?”
 

She wasn’t the source of his mood. His encounter with Noeh was, so he held his irritation in check.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” Aramie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
 

When he didn’t respond, she put her hands on her hips. The sound of her shoe tapping against the stone floor echoed around the room.
 

“How are we supposed to stretch our legs and run? We’re hundreds of feet underground.” After spinning on her toes, she headed across the floor, her frustration palpable in the enclosed room. “Do we need to ask those Jixies to call us a portal every time we want to leave?”
 

“Maybe you should go talk this over with your sister. I’m sure Sidea would have plenty to say on the topic.”
 

She watched him with a raised eyebrow.

“Quit fretting. Once we take over the Keep, we’ll run the place as we see fit.” Demir sat up, and his legs dangled over the edge of the bed. He pursed his lips. “This bed will be the first thing to go. No question about that.”
 

Aramie stopped her pacing, an incredulous look on her face. “What did you say?”
 

“This bed, it has to go.” Demir stood and stretched his arms.

“No, before that. You said—you want to take over the Keep?”

Demir glanced at her and continued his stretch. “Stiyaha are too big and slow. Besides, no cell phones. Are you kidding me?”
 

Aramie shook her head. The red barrette in her black hair was her only spot of color. The bauble caught Demir’s eye as it danced to and fro. Her mouth turned down at the corners, and when she spoke, her words were laced with doubt. “Why would you take such a risk?”

His heart pounded. He had to remind himself Aramie was on the same team and not to take his aggression out on her. That wasn’t easy though, and he clenched his teeth. “I can’t stand that smug, arrogant bastard’s air of superiority. Who does he think he is?” Demir punched his fist into his open palm, the smack loud and harsh in the small space.

“You mean
King
Noeh? Well, my guess is he thinks he’s the king.” Aramie raised her eyebrows. “And he’d be right about that.”
 

“King, schming. Any king can be overthrown and this one is in sad need of it.”
 

“Really, Demir, you think our small band of Panthera can oust the Stiyaha king with all his warriors? Oh, and don’t forget about the Jixies who appear to worship him.” Aramie resumed her pacing.

“Ye of little faith. What makes you think we can’t?”

She stopped. Their eyes met. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
 

He shrugged. “There appears to be no second in command.”

“What about Saar?”
 

“Really? That buffoon?” He rolled his eyes. “Bring down the king. The rest will fall in line, ready and waiting for someone to tell them what to do. Then, all that is his will be mine.” Demir smiled. An image formed in his mind of Melissa, who was under the protection of his nemesis, Noeh.

Aramie frowned. “What’s this really about, Demir? Melissa?”

He got right in her face and towered over her. “I told you to stay out of it. I won’t warn you again.”
 

She didn’t back down, but stood her ground. “What’s your plan?”
 

He curled his lip. She wouldn’t show weakness in front of him. Doing so would knock her down in the Pride rankings. Second in command was something she was proud of.

“That’s under construction. We should go out for a battle soon—maybe a fresh Gossum kill would get the creative juices flowing.” Demir stroked his goatee, and a sly smile crossed his face.
A kill. Yes, indeed.

*****

Ram shivered. He’d never liked the forest, with its tall evergreens boxing him in, a multitude of bugs, and constant moisture. He stood at the base of a tall fir, sheltered from the impending rain. It would be hard to see in the dark night if he still had normal, human eyes, but he didn’t. He could see just fine.
 

The toe of his high-tops nudged something round and wet. He picked a mouse up by the tail, and the smell of rotting flesh seared his nostrils. Grimacing, he tossed the creature aside. The rodent rolled down the stream bank and landed at the edge of the river. Roiling foam crested the top of the rushing water, the bubbling sound causing a shiver to run over the scales on Ram’s back. When he was a human child, he’d almost drowned. He’d never lost his fear.

“Why the Stiyaha prefer it out here, I’ll never know.” Cool mist coated his hairless arms, but he refused to let that bother him. He waved for Jakar and his minions to gather around. “Has anyone found any sign of a Stiyaha? A large footprint, a broken branch, oh, I don’t know, a horrible smell, perhaps?”
 

Jakar glanced away. The minions grunted and bobbed like overzealous puppies waiting for a stick.
 

“No, I didn’t think so.” Ram picked up a rock, hefting the weight in his palm. The waiting grated on his nerves, not that he had any left. He tossed the rock at a tree, and a large branch crashed to the ground. “Keep looking. When you find something, report back at once.”
 

The Gossum blended into the trees, branches swaying as they moved through the forest in search of their elusive enemy. With the stinger on the end of their tongues, their sharp teeth, and jagged claws, they were made to hunt, made to kill.

Ram caught Jakar by the shoulder. “Wait.”
 

Jakar bowed, his evil grin making even Ram do a double take.

“We’ve looked for several nights, and no sign of any Stiyaha. What do you make of that?” Ram eyed Jakar, aware that underneath his calm exterior was a certifiable madman. Although cunning and devious, Jakar was loyal to Ram, and had been since the day he was remade from human into Gossum. Ram enjoyed the allegiance while he could. There was never much long-term loyalty among the Gossum. Constant turnover, due to the numerous battles with the Stiyaha, kept the need for new trainees high.
 

Jakar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Something distracted them.”
 

“Ya think?” Ram shook his head. Despite his frustration at their inability to find a Stiyaha, the effort Jakar and the new recruits put forth pleased him.

Jakar’s forked tongue whipped out of his mouth. “Do you smell something?”

Ram’s tongue had far more sensory receptors than his nose and could discern the faintest scent. The smell of pine needles, elk, spiders, and all manner of forest creatures were around them.

“What is that? It’s cat-like—” Ram couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face, adrenaline rushing through his body. Success. “A Lemurian.”
 

“The scent is similar to the redheaded female we captured—Melissa.” Jakar whistled low, one of the many signals the Gossum used.
 

Stealing in from the trees, the other members of their party returned from their search.
 

Jakar frowned, and his brow creased between his eyes. “What brings them here?”
 

“Good question.” Ram breathed in deep and flicked his tongue, committing the new scent to memory. “Let’s go ask them, shall we?”

Chapter Twenty

Noeh paced across the throne room, his feet following a path well-worn into the stone from countless kings. He hadn’t slept well. An uncomfortable hard-on and images of Melissa feeding from him had kept him awake. He ran his hand through his short hair. This kind of complication—he didn’t need in his life.
 

A memory crossed his mind, one he hadn’t thought of in a very long time. As a young child, he’d walked in on his parents in the throne room, but they hadn’t noticed. His father had trailed a finger down his mother’s cheek before pulling her into a passionate kiss. Their love was powerful—strong enough to produce two black bonding bands around his father’s neck—and that was the source of the problem.
 

Once his mother had died from the scourge, his father was destined to join her, even though he wasn’t sick. He was bonded to her through the bands, and he couldn’t live without her. The grief of losing his love, his other half, had killed him as sure as a sword through the heart. His father couldn’t save his mother from the great scourge, and because of the bonding, they’d left a child to rule a kingdom.

A movement caught Noeh’s attention, bringing him out of his reverie.

Saar leaned against the doorframe, his boots crossed at the ankles. A toothpick dangled from the corner of his mouth. “You seem pent up. Want to spar?”
 

Noeh glared at him. “Not now.”

Saar matched Noeh’s gaze, holding his own against his king. “Well, maybe you need to.”

Gaetan pushed past Saar and sat in one of the tall wooden chairs. He rested his chin on his cane, reading Noeh’s every move. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing.” Noeh resumed his pacing.

“Yeah, right.” Saar snorted.

Noeh’s face warmed, his anger just under the surface. “You want to know what’s bothering me? The welcome feast.”

“What about it?” Gaetan asked.

“The banquet was a major distraction. We need to find Ram.”
 

Saar pushed himself away from the doorway and sat in one of the chairs next to the ornate wooden table. “Agreed. We should send out a squad to find and destroy him.”

Gaetan leaned against the handle of his cane. He rocked back and forth in his chair as if the pain in his leg bothered him. “Where should we start? They could be anywhere.”

Saar moved the toothpick around in his mouth from one side to the other. The movement caused the scar across his lip to gyrate unnaturally. “We start where we found them last, at the asylum. Even though it’s been several days, we should be able to pick up a scent or a clue as to their whereabouts.”