Her scent came to him first.

Dante lifted his head and his burning eyes shot over to the empty tunnel.

She’s here.

Standing up, he triggered the secret latch underneath the bench he’d been sitting on and raised the seat. In a flash, he was in front of the human male, still waiting for his turn near the smashed bricks in the wall. “Time to go, asshole.” Lowering his head until he was eye to eye with the shorter man, he said, “Go back to the homeless camp and find your dead friend. You won’t remember me, or what happened to him. It must have been an animal.”

“An animal,” he repeated obediently.

Dante could hear Laney in the other room now. “Yes, a bear. Now get the fuck out of here.” He pointed toward the bench. “Follow the tunnel to the other end. Don’t speak to anyone until you get back to your friend.”

The guy started shuffling toward the escape hatch, and when he didn’t move fast enough, Dante came up behind him with a snarl. Grasping him by the collar and the back of his pants, he hitched him over the side and dropped him through the opening.

“Dante?”

Her voice washed over him, soothing his raw nerves. He didn’t respond right away, watching to make sure the human male got up and walked away, and then he slammed the bench closed and secured the latch. Steeling himself, he turned to face her, and felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

Laney stood before him in one of his plain black T-shirts and jeans, holding a candle. The shirt fell nearly to her knees and hung off one bare shoulder. He could see the outline of her bare breasts, the nipples jutting against the soft material. Her hair was partially damp and tumbled around her face and down her back in disarray. She was still too pale, too thin, her tawny eyes worried and too large in her delicate face.

She was fucking exquisite.

It took him a moment before he found his voice. “What are you doing here, little mouse?”

“I came to find you,” she simply said. “Who was that?” She glanced around. “And what happened in here?” He could see her coming to conclusions—the correct conclusions. Her voice lowered to a near whisper. “No. Dante, did you hurt him?”

Dante narrowed his eyes at her, unused to being questioned, nor having someone to answer to. But he felt compelled to do exactly that. He tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. “No. I—” The words wouldn’t come. He’d wanted to hurt the human. Craved the release it would have brought him. And he still might have done it if she hadn’t shown up.

She studied him, her perceptive eyes roaming from his face to his clenched fists and back again. Somehow, he managed to remain still, even though he wanted to hide, afraid as always that she would see right through to his black soul.

“Why did you leave me upstairs?”

He ground his jaw, though her directness shouldn’t surprise him by now. His heart palpitated in his chest. “Because that’s where you should be.” His voice was gruff. He tried to swallow again.

She took a step toward him. “I should be with you, Dante.”

“No, little mouse.” He gave a snort of disgust. “You should not be with me.” His voice became strained. “You should have finished the job you started last night, the job the demons started out there on the docks. You would be free now.” A razor sharp pain lanced his insides at what he was about to say, yet he heard the words come out of his mouth as if in a dream. “I should still free you.”

“Dante—”

He interrupted whatever she had been about to say. It was too late now for her. “And yet, I can’t let you go. Not without forfeiting my own damned life. And I’m entirely too fucking selfish to do that.” He paused. “Letting you live upstairs is the best I can do. I will only bother you to feed when I have to. The others will make sure you have everything you need and will keep you safe.” His instincts screamed in denial. No one could keep her safer than he could.

But we both know that’s nothing but a fucking lie, don’t we?

She was silent after his little speech. He longed to know what she was thinking, but couldn’t bring himself to reach out to her thoughts, half-hopeful and half-terrified at what he might find there.

Finally, she spoke. “But that’s not what I want. I want to be where you are.”

That tiny tendril of hope threatened again. In an act of sheer desperation to save himself before it was too late, he changed the subject. “Why are you wearing my shirt?” The question may have come out a bit harsher than he had intended.

Full of defiance as always, she lifted her chin. Her gaze was steady as she stared daggers across the room at him. Witnessing the way she stood up to him, his chest swelled with pride.

“Because mine are filthy. And because I wanted to. It smells like you.”

His blood warmed at her answer. “Laney—” He stopped, not quite sure what it was he had been about to say. A plea, or perhaps a warning. Talking had never been his forte. Especially when he had so many emotions eating away at his insides.

She came closer, so close he could reach out and touch her face. And that’s exactly what he did, his fingertips skimming lightly over her cheekbone. Setting the candle down, she took his large hand in both of her small ones and held it to her chest, over her heart. “I want to be with you, wherever that is.”

Her simple words struck him harder than any elaborate speech would have, all of the raging thoughts and emotions screaming inside of him settling into a low hum. He ran his free hand over his shaved head. He wanted to believe that she meant what she said, but perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. The other witches lived with their mates. “I can’t live upstairs, little mouse. It’s—”

“Not safe,” she finished for him. “I know.”

“I’m not—”

“A good person…or vampire…or whatever. I know.”

Pulling his hand from hers, he paced away. He didn’t understand. He hadn’t been kind to her. As a matter of fact, he’d treated her little better than any other human he’d run across. “Laney, I’m no good for you.”

“I know. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the way I feel.”

In the face of her unwavering perseverance, Dante began to do something that he hadn’t done in a long, long time. He let that tiny thread of hope spin into a rope. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her thoughts with his, but immediately pulled back again, still frightened that he’d find out it was all a lie.

Her features softened, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Go ahead,” she told him.

He stared at that mouth, transfixed by the curve of her lips. This tiny female that was more threatening to him than a group of hell’s demons. Swallowing hard, Dante reached out again. What he discovered made his heart stall out in his chest, then begin to pound sporadically. There was a touch of fear, yes, but there was also hope, longing, passion, and the beginnings of an honest love. He didn’t know if that love was a natural occurrence or brought on by the blood bond, and honestly, he didn’t fucking care. “Little mouse…Laney.” Unable to stop himself, he hauled her up into his arms and took her mouth with his. It wasn’t a tender kiss. It was a kiss of hunger, of disbelief, of euphoria and possession. Her soft body molded perfectly to the hard planes of his chest.

He broke it off, working his way along her cheekbone to her ear. “Don’t be frightened of me. I would never hurt you.”

“I’m only frightened of what I feel for you,” she whispered.

His hand tightened in her hair. “You are MINE, little mouse.” With a hiss of longing, he flashed his fangs and kissed her again.

Her arms wrapped tight around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, her moans of surrender blending with his. He kissed her until their hearts beat in rapid unison and their every breath depended on each other. He kissed her until his body trembled with wanting her. With a low growl, he made his way over her jaw and down to her throat, barely stopping himself before he plunged his fangs through her tender skin.

She tilted her head away, exposing her throat to him. Dante groaned with the need to consume her in every possible way, but somehow he refrained. She was too pale. He had taken too much blood earlier in order to heal. However, he couldn’t resist running one fang along her pulsing artery before dropping a kiss there.

“Dante, please,” she begged.

“No, Laney.” Kissing his way back up to her mouth, he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re too pale.” Glancing around, he scowled.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t belong in here. In this room.” Still holding her, he strode over to the tunnel and set her down to go first. “Go. I’m right behind you.” He nearly regretted his decision as the sight of her deliciously plump ass in front of him nearly drove him to take her there in the dark, and he couldn’t resist touching her as they made their way into the other room.

When they arrived moments later, he was surprised to see the candles had all been lit. Her backpack was there, along with her book. She had laid it on top of his, the green and red cover a bright contrast against the black. A few bottles of water and some juice were lined up along the wall, and there was a paper bag. He could smell the food inside. On the bed was the thick comforter from upstairs. And pillows.

“Do you think you can figure out a way to keep rodents away? I swear I’ve heard them on occasion. And some hot running water would be nice, too. To bathe? But I guess that can be done upstairs.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I hope it’s okay that I brought a few things down here.”

Dante had no words. The fact that she was willing to stay down here with him at all was hard for him to believe. He stood there like a fucking idiot, at a complete loss, his body raging with desire.

“I can take everything back upstairs,” she said when the silence stretched on.

He finally found his voice. “No!” he told her. “No. This is fine.”

She watched him carefully. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? If you don’t want me here—”

That was as far as she got. “Take off your clothes, little mouse.”

Laney blinked, and her mouth snapped shut with an audible click.

“Take them off now,” he growled. So many thoughts clamored for dominance in his head, so many emotions, but there was one that overruled them all.

He needed to possess her. He needed her submission.

The air between them was simultaneously too heavy and too thin. Dante’s blood raced, his muscles tensed, his sex throbbing within the confines of his pants. Inhaling deeply, the scent of her desire filled his nose. His mouth watered. She was already wet for him, her breasts rising and falling with her quickened breaths. He waited.

She glanced around, then back at him. Backing up a few paces, she braced one hand on the brick wall as she kicked off her sneakers. After a slight pause, she undid her jeans and pulled them off, taking her socks with them. Straightening up, she stood before him in nothing but his oversized T-shirt.

“All of it,” he ordered.

Blood flooded into her cheeks, making them flush, but she did as he ordered, pulling off the shirt and tossing it on top of the rest. She didn’t try to cover herself.

A low growl rumbled in his chest. She wasn’t wearing any underthings. There was a buzzing in his head as his eyes traveled from the lock of hair curling around one dusky nipple, to the curve of her hip, to the scars on her belly, to her shapely legs and the “V” of dark curls in between, and even her small feet.

Grinding his jaw against the urge to spin her around and take her against the wall, he ripped off his shirt, still wet from the rain. His skin felt tight, his fangs ached, and his manhood was so engorged it was painful. But he welcomed this pain. “Lie down on the bed,” he told her as he knelt down to unfasten his boots. “On your back.”

Again, she did as he told her. But he wasn’t fooled. His little mouse only obeyed his commands because she chose to do so. Her sweet, earthy scent was only tempered by the musky smell of her sex. There was no stench of fear.

As he rose and unfastened his pants, kicking off his boots much as she had, her hungry eyes were rapt on his manhood. When he was as nude as she, he took the heavy length in his hand. It filled his palm, and he stroked himself as he walked over to her and dropped to his knees.

She immediately sat up, reaching for him, but he pressed her back down. “No, Laney.” Kneeling beside her, he released his sex as he ran his free hand over her soft skin, afraid he would come merely from the sight of her. Laney arched her back, pressing her breasts into his palm, and he pinched her nipple. “Spread your legs. I want to see you.”

She did, and he moved until he was lying between them. Her sex was soaking wet, the scent of her desire strong. Placing his hands on her thighs, he pushed them even further apart. He could see her opening, and lower, her ass.

He would possess her there one day also.

Sliding one hand up her leg to her pelvis, he ran his thumb through her satiny folds, spreading the moisture to the hard nub hidden within.

Her hips bucked. “Dante, please…”

He kissed the inside of her thigh. “Shhh, little mouse.” Dante was fast discovering that he enjoyed this particular type of torture, both for her and for himself. But more than that, he was determined to take his time and enjoy this gift that had fallen into his hands against all the odds.

He circled her clit a few more times, eliciting a groan from her before moving his thumb down through her wet pussy to press inside of her. Her hands fisted in the blanket as she arched her back again, trying to force it in deeper. Pulling out, he replaced his finger with his mouth, inserting his tongue. Her taste made him moan.

She rocked against his face shamelessly as he licked up the length of her, flicked her clit with his tongue, and then took his mouth away.

“Touch your breasts,” he ordered.

She immediately covered them with both hands, moaning when her fingers brushed over her nipples.

With the sounds of her pleasure in his ears, he lowered his head back between her trembling thighs. As his tongue went to work on her clitoris, he cupped her ass in one hand and pressed his thumb back inside her. In and out, in and out—until she was panting and moaning his name. He longed to bite her, to taste her sweet blood mix with her desire, but he made himself wait.

When he sensed that she was on the verge of coming, he slid his thumb out and moved down to her ass. He circled the outer ring, spreading her moisture, readying her. She stilled when she realized what he was doing, but he pressed his other arm across her hips and held her there. Baring his fangs, he bit her at the same time that he invaded her tight ass with his thumb. The blood from her swollen clit covered his tongue as he swirled it around the hardened bud.

Laney came instantly, her body jerking uncontrollably as her cries echoed around them. He pumped his thumb in and out of her as he held her in his fangs and continued to flick her with his tongue. When she stilled beneath him again, panting heavily, he didn’t give her any time to recover. With one last taste, Dante rose over her and lined himself up with her pussy. A guttural cry escaped him as he pushed his thick length inside of her. She was hot and wet, her body squeezing him as he withdrew and slammed in again. And again. And again. Faster and faster as she bent her knees and raised her legs to give him better access to her body.

Gathering Laney’s wrists in his one hand, he raised them above her head. She laced her fingers through his as he held them there, bracing his weight on his elbow as he slid in an out of her slick heat. When he felt his balls tightening, he lifted his free arm to his mouth and bit down. Pressing it to her mouth, he ordered her to drink. “Take it. Take me.”

She moaned at the taste of his blood, every pull on his vein sending sparks of lust straight to his sex. Lowering his head to the curve of her shoulder, he reared back slightly and sank his fangs into her warm flesh. Laney cried out against his arm, and Dante moaned in ecstasy as he began to drink, every swallow sending her lifeblood shooting through his body. He felt everything, heard every tiny sound of pleasure that tore from her throat. Dante pounded into her, barely keeping himself under control, trying hard not to hurt her.

She bit down on his wrist, and lust surged through him. Lifting his head, he roared with the strength of his release as Laney tensed beneath him. Waves of passion escalated through his body as his seed pumped from his manhood, continuing for long moments after the pulses of her orgasm had wrung him dry.

Dante released his fangs from her neck, licking the wound clean, and then doing the same with his wrist. Holding her leg around his hip, he rolled to his back, taking her with him until she was sprawled on top of him with their fingers still laced next to his head.

He ran his free hand down her back and over her ass, overcome with the power of what he was feeling, in spite of the release he’d just experienced. “If you ever try to leave me, little mouse, I will hunt you down. There will be nowhere for you to run, nowhere for you to hide. I won’t ever stop until I find you.”

Bracing her arm across his chest, she lifted her head. Her silky hair tumbled around them, shielding them from the rest of the world. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright as she smiled. “Promise?”

As he gazed spellbound into her beautiful face, Dante’s black soul was engulfed by light. He was home.