A Hunger Like No Other

19

Emma still got chills thinking about what she'd seen in the midst of the vampire attack.

Unfortunately for her, she now knew exactly what Lachlain looked like when he changed. It had been like a shaky projector image, flickering over him, illuminating something feral and brutal that had peered at her with absolute possession.

And now she was in its bed.

"Emma, what you saw last night—that's no' what I am." The firelight cast shadows across his face, reminding her. "That's only a small part of me, and I can control it."

"Control?" She nodded slowly. "So you made a decision to attack me in the field and in the hotel room in Paris? You meant to strangle me?"

She thought he stifled a wince. "I need to explain something to you. You know I was imprisoned by the Horde, but you doona know that I'd been…tortured. It affected my behavior, my thinking."

She had known he'd been tortured, just not how. "What did they do to you?"

His expression grew guarded. "I will never burden you with those details. Why did you no' tell me you were part Valkyrie?"

"What difference would it have made? I'm still a vampire, and my aunts are still your enemies."

"No, they're no'," he insisted. "I doona count among my enemies wee fey women who live on another continent."

His dismissive tone rankled almost as much as if he'd admitted to being their enemy. "When is Annika coming for me?"

His eyes narrowed. "You made a promise to me to stay until the full moon."

Emma gasped. "You didn't…she isn't coming for me?"

"No' at this time."

Her lips parted as disbelief hammered through her. "Incredible! Because you're from the past, I'll hip you to some rules. One rule is that when Emma is nearly killed by vampires, she gets a get-out-of-jail-free card from the Lykae's little playdate." She held up two fingers. "Another rule? Now that my aunts know what you are, they will kill you if you don't send me to the coven immediately. Your best bet is to let me go as soon as possible."

"If they can find this place, they deserve to try."

Realizing how resolute he was about this, she felt her bottom lip trembling. "You would keep me from my family when I need them the most?" A hot tear tracked down her cheek. Before, he'd appeared revolted by her tears. Now he looked…tormented, quickly reaching forward to brush it away.

"You want to go home and you will, but no' for just a few days more."

Not bothering to hide her frustration, she asked, "What difference will a few days make?"

"I ask you the same."

She gritted her teeth, fighting aggravation, fighting her useless tears.

He cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His voice sounding rough, he said, "Lass, if I have you here for such a short time, I doona want to quarrel with you. For now, let me show you Kinevane." He rose to cross to the thick curtains, opening them wide, then returned for her. Though she stiffened and leaned away, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the spacious room to the balcony. "You'll be surprised to know that it's still mine. No Wal-Mart."

Outside she saw the moon rising over a stately castle, lighting its ancient bricks and magnificent lawns. A fog was rolling in and carried a hint of brine.

He pointed off into the distance. "You canna see the walls surrounding the property, but know that whenever you are within them, you are protected."

When he sat her on the railing, her legs immediately threaded through its marble balusters even though he held her hips.

She saw he noted this with a frown but didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked, "What do you think?"

He appeared proud, as he should with a place like this. Amidst the stone frontage of the castle were stunning herringbone formations of brick that framed the windows and matched the walks and even the back of the huge fireplace in this bedroom. The gardens were immaculate, and if the rest of the castle was decorated as sumptuously as his bedroom, then this Kinevane was a testament to luxury. Her Valkyrie sensibilities couldn't help but appreciate it.

"Well?" He looked expectant. He wanted her to like it.

She turned, lifting her gaze above the tree line to regard the moon. "I think I only have a few days left until the moon is full."

When she turned back, she found his jaw was clenched.

She pushed her knotted hair back and it felt gritty. "I want a shower," she said, ducking to glance around his torso, spying out a bathroom.

She squirmed, wriggling her hips from his hands, until he finally let her down.

"I'll help you. You're still weak—"

"A shower. A lone!" she snapped as she strode into the opulent—and modern—bathroom. She rushed to lock the heavy door behind her, having discovered to her horror that her nails were dirty.

She removed the shirt he'd dressed her in—his, she noticed—and stared at the ugly, raised marks winding down her chest. An involuntary moan escaped her as she swayed. For the rest of her life, she would never forget the look in that vampire's eyes just before he'd clawed her. She recalled she'd regretted head-butting him. Now I'm going to get it, she'd thought as his hand swung up above her. Why had she provoked him?

She turned on the shower, waiting until it steamed, then stepped under the water. A red stream ran as dried blood rinsed clean from her hair, and she focused on it, shivering. Three vampires. The red swirled round and round into the drain. Why did I provoke him?

But who was alive now?

She should be dead right now. But she wasn't. She'd survived them.

She frowned. She'd survived vampires. And the sun. And a Lykae attack—all this week. Her worst fears for dozens of years were becoming—she bit her lip—old hat?

"Emma, let me help you."

Her head whipped up. "You should buy stock in a lock company! I said alone!"

He nodded in agreement. "Aye, you usually say that, and I still stay. It's our way." His voice was calm, and though the idea was crazy, he sounded reasonable.

Privacy? You have none… Her hand shot out to a shampoo bottle, her shampoo bottle that had already been unpacked for her stay. She hurled it at him, hard like a dagger throw, end over end. He ducked, just dodging it, and it flew into the next room. The sound of shattering felt like an accomplishment. Why was she provoking him?

Because it feels good.

He raised his eyebrows. "You'll reinjure yourself."

She reached blindly for the conditioner. "Not before you."

When she swooped up another bottle, Lachlain gave a quick, tight nod. "Verra well."

As he closed the door behind him, he thought that not doing exactly as he pleased in his own home was going to take some getting used to.

When he spotted the priceless mirror she'd broken, he remembered it had been at Kinevane for centuries and could've been the oldest one extant anywhere. He shrugged. At least she was getting her strength back.

For fifteen minutes, he prowled the hallway. As he listened in the unlikely case that she called for him, he wondered how to coax her to drink again. If his blood made her stronger, then she needed a surfeit of it. He'd see that she had it.

She was angry, wanting to return to her family, and he understood her need. But there was no way he could send her home. And going with her? When he could never hurt any of them, even to defend himself?

He regretted having to be so hard with her, knowing how much she'd been through, but there wasn't any time for this.

When he returned to their room, she was showered—and dressed as though to go outside. "What do you think you're doing?" he snapped. "You need to be in bed."

"Going out. You told me it was safe."

"Of course it is, and I'll take you out—"

"The whole point is to get away from you. You might be able to keep me here for four more nights, but it doesn't mean I have to spend them with you."

He took her elbow. "Then you'll drink first."

She gave his hand a withering glare. "Let go of me."

"You're going to drink, Emma!" he bellowed.

"Get bent, Lachlain!" she screamed back at him, wrenching her arm away. When he caught her once more, she struck out so fast it was a blur. He barely caught her palm before it cracked across his face.

With a low, menacing growl, he put his hand behind her head and pressed her against the wall. "I've told you no' to strike me. Know that the next time you try, I will retaliate."

She kept her chin in the air, though she prayed his eyes wouldn't flicker. "One hit from you could kill me."

His voice grew rough. "Never hit you." He leaned in and brushed her lips with his own. "Each time, I'll take a kiss as my due."

She felt her nipples harden and grew angered at her lack of control over her body—he seemed to have more control over it than she did. Even with all the confusion and panic of the last few nights, another slow brush of his lips across hers had her wanting him still. Even when she was terrified by what was inside him. What if he turned when they had sex? That thought made her break away.

"I know you want more than a kiss. Isn't that why you're forcing me to stay until the full moon? So you can sleep with me?" Like he'd warned her he would.

"I will no' deny that I want you."

"What if I said we should just get it over with? Tonight? So I could leave tomorrow."

She could sense him weighing his answer. "You'd sleep with me to leave me a few days early?" He sounded almost hurt by this. "Your body for your freedom?"

"Why not?" she asked, lowering her voice to nearly a hiss. "Just think of all the things I did in a shower in Paris for only a phone call."

She thought he flinched before he turned away. He limped to the fireplace, then lowered his head, staring at the fire. She'd never seen anyone gaze at one the way he did. Watchfully. While most seemed to lose themselves in the lulling flames, Lachlain did not. His wary eyes darted and flickered as though a play were being presented inside. "Know that I regret the way I've been with you, but I will no' let you go. For now, you're free to walk the grounds, and you'll be guarded."

Free to walk the grounds. The ones that were dark and should unnerve her; yet she'd been itching to explore them since first perceiving that scent of brine. And didn't she belong out there anyway? Without a look back, she crossed to the balcony, strode up the railing, then dropped off into the night.

The last thing she heard was him rasping, "And I know you'll come back to me before dawn."