He had a death wish? He wasn’t the one about to be fried to a fucking crisp by the sun! No creature on the face of the earth could push his buttons like Sasha did. He fought the urge to grab her, throw her over his shoulder, and toss her in the damned car. Instead, he turned on a heel and walked away. His decision to let her follow on her own wasn’t doing anything for the urgent sense of worry that was about to lay him low, however.
Gods. Did she not understand that sunrise was only a few minutes off?
Unspent energy pooled in Ewan’s muscles causing an acidic burn that he was desperate to work off. Fucking coward demons didn’t have the balls to stay and fight. Instead, they’d run off with their tails tucked between their legs. They weren’t going to get money—or anything else—out of him. And if one of them so much as turned a caustic eye Sasha’s way ever again, he’d make them eat their own hellfire and watch as they burned from the inside out.
Gods, he needed to blow off some steam.
He reached for the door handle of the Civic and gave it a solid yank. The door ripped from the hinges and hung in Ewan’s grip. Fucking hell! Like the damned thing wasn’t already a piece of shit. Thanks to his preternatural strength, it now looked like something that had rolled out of a junkyard.
From behind him, Sasha cleared her throat. The sound carried a little too much humor for his taste and Ewan’s lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he turned to face her. “I’m sorry.” He cocked a brow and kept his tone even and clipped. “Did you say something?”
Any amusement that might have been present in Sasha’s expression faded in an instant. The petulant pucker of her lips would have been sexy as hell if he weren’t so pissed off at her. She gingerly opened the passenger side door and just as delicately settled herself into the seat. If she was trying to further aggravate him with her dramatic show, it was working.
In the distance, the demons’ bonfire still raged and the flashing lights of the approaching fire trucks bounced off of nearby structures. Ewan could only imagine what sorts of conclusions the humans would jump to when they assessed the unquenchable fire. Hazmat crews would be called in. The area would be shut down and blocked off. Not to mention the damage done to the overpass that probably wouldn’t support the weight of the upcoming morning commuter traffic.
Bastard demons had really fucked a lot of shit up tonight. Way to be discreet, assholes. There was nothing Ewan could do about it. It wasn’t his mess to clean up and he was more concerned with Sasha’s vulnerable state.
“Don’t you think you should buckle your seatbelt?”
Ewan fought the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. Seriously? It’s like she wanted to drive him insane. He turned the key in the ignition, silently daring the fucking car not to start. The engine groaned but turned over on the first try and Ewan let out a slow breath of relief.
“Worried I might fall out?”
Sasha’s face remained passive. “Something like that.”
“Well, don’t. I’ve lived through too much to worry that something as minor as a little road rash is going to do me in. I haven’t managed to die yet.”
Sasha’s brow furrowed. Her eyes flashed with feral silver as her temper flared. “Not for lack of trying, I’m sure.”
On the western horizon, the sky brightened from shades of light gray to peach. Ewan’s jaw clenched as he put the car into gear and stomped his foot down on the gas pedal.
“Nope.” The more Sasha pushed, the more he wanted to push back. “Probably not.”
Things had been simpler when their relationship was nothing more than hookups. If they were fucking, they sure as hell weren’t fighting. But now that they’d moved past that, it opened up the door for all sorts of complicated bullshit. Like fighting. And passive-aggression. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Ewan sped in the direction toward Sasha’s apartment building. His teeth gnashed together. Tension tapped at his chest like some sort of torture technique and grew more unbearable with each mile. The sky transformed from light peachy orange to vibrant pink and the steering wheel creaked with his grip. They weren’t going to make it.
“Sash—”
She slumped in her seat and Ewan’s heart stuttered in his chest before taking off to five hundred beats per minute. The car swerved as he let go of the wheel to try and straighten her in the seat. As though her posture was somehow the deciding factor between life and death.
Jesus fucking Christ, Ewan. Get your shit together!
He’d always been cool under pressure. Calm and composed. His thoughts focused and sharp. He could handle any hostile situation with ease, but this … He forced himself to take a breath. The thought that something was seriously wrong with her caused his brain to freeze up and cease function. He couldn’t form a coherent thought, couldn’t focus on anything but the worry that overtook him with the force of a hurricane. These foreign emotions were unwelcome and equally uncomfortable. It made Ewan feel like a squatter in his own skin, a stranger to his own thoughts and experiences. He wanted it gone. All of it. And he worried the damage that had already done was irreversible.
“I’m okay.” Her exhausted tone juxtaposed her previous shouts. In the space of a few seconds, she’d gone from alert and feisty to quiet and lethargic. “The sunrise. Need to sleep.”
He knew vampires slept during the day. That the hours of sunlight left them vulnerable. But he had no idea it would debilitate her in such a way. For all of Gregor’s research, the knowledge he’d drilled into their heads over the centuries, there was so much about the vampires they didn’t know. Gods, what fools they all were.
“Just hang tight.” Helplessness wasn’t a feeling Ewan was accustomed to, and he hated it. There was nothing he could do for her aside from getting her indoors and away from the sun. “We’re almost home.”
Sasha offered a lazy laugh. “Home.” Her soft snort was almost a snore. “Is that what it is?”
He scowled at her bitter tone. “Fine. We’re almost to your fuck pad.” If she wanted uncaring and crass, he’d give it to her.
“Better.” She slumped in her seat once again, and knocked her head against the window.
“Sasha?”
“Mmmm?”
She tried to respond, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of syllables that made no sense. Ewan stomped his foot down on the gas pedal and the car protested. The engine clanked and the frame shook. He’d drive the damn thing into the ground if he had to. Five more blocks. And now, it was a race against the sun.
By the time they pulled up to Sasha’s apartment building, the sun had crested the horizon. Ewan jumped out of the car and hustled to the passenger side door. He nearly pulled that one off its hinges as well before he ducked inside and gently cradled Sasha in his arms. She weighed nothing. Spun sugar in his hand. She betrayed the illusion of strength because Ewan knew that in reality she was fragile and delicate. The sun continued its ascent and he took a stumbling step as wisps of steam rose from Sasha’s exposed skin.
Jesus fucking Christ! It was burning her!
Ewan got his ass into gear. Without any thought to his carelessness or who might see him, he crossed from the parking area to the entrance of the apartment complex in the space of a few seconds. His finger shook as he punched the code to unlock the main entrance into the keypad. A loud buzz signaled as the lock disengaged. He pushed open the heavy glass door and rather than waste more time waiting for the elevator, raced up the flights of stairs to Sasha’s third-floor apartment.
Keys! Where the fuck were her keys?
“Sasha?” He gave her a not-so-gentle shake. “Where are your keys so I can get you inside?”
Her arms flopped toward her legs as though the slender limb weighed hundreds of pounds. “Pocket. Probably.”
Good gods. Probably? Ewan rolled his eyes. He shouldered her weight with his left hand while he felt against her jeans pockets for an outline of the key. Of course it would be in the pocket closest to his body. The hardest one to get into with their positioning. His arm didn’t want to bend the way he needed it to and his fingers were too large and clumsy to negotiate the denim that clung to her like a second skin. When he finally managed to work the key free of her pocket, he was out of his mind with frustration and damn near sweating. He shoved the key into the lock and carried her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. Thank the gods the blinds were all shut. Still, it didn’t completely black out the space. Ewan carried Sasha into the bedroom as though she were made of hollowed-out eggshells, and set her on the bed. He pulled the throw blanket from the foot of the mattress and crossed to the window, draping the heavy cover over the blinds. Darkness settled over the morning-bright space and for the first time since they’d been hijacked by the demons he allowed a breath of relief.
One window down. Six or seven more to go.
* * *
Sasha awoke to the sensation of her skin burning. She sucked in a sharp breath and sat upright as she brushed her palms over her arms in an attempt to extinguish the nonexistent flames.
“Sasha, you’re okay.”
Strong arms gripped her shoulders and another wave of disoriented panic swept over her. She fought against the hold, desperate to break free. But his grip was iron and his arms carved from marble. She couldn’t move him if she tried.
“Burning.” Her thoughts were muddled, her mind slow with the dregs of sleep. She remembered the demons, their taunting violence, and her own frustration as she’d thrown herself into the path of one of those supernatural fireballs. “Hellfire.”
Warmth soaked into her skin from the hands that held her still. Her breathing slowed and the quaking in her limbs subsided. A throbbing pain still plagued her right forearm, but no longer did she feel the lick of flames against her flesh. She shook out her hands, finger splayed and limp, and let the panic drain from her on a slowly exhaled breath.
“Are you always this disoriented when you wake at sundown?”
The rich timbre of Ewan’s voice vibrated through her. The tether that bound them gave a gentle tug at Sasha’s chest and she brought her palm up to rest over her heart. “Yes. I mean, no. I’m just weak. I haven’t fed and…” Gods, she could barely string two words together to make a sentence. She needed to get it together. Her fangs throbbed in her gums and her throat burned with thirst. The last thing she needed was to let Ewan see her behaving like some stereotype of what her kind had been painted to represent. Creatures ruled by madness, lust, and thirst.
“Then take what you need.” Ewan turned her in his grasp so Sasha was settled on his lap. He tilted his head to one side, elongating his throat.
“I could … I mean … Your wrist would be—”
“No.” His demanding tone sent a delicious shiver down her spine. “You’ll drink from my throat.”
Okay. His tone let her know, plain and simple, that he expected her to do as he commanded. And whereas most of the time Sasha would’ve responded by doing opposite of what he wanted, she was too damned thirsty and too damned weak to fight back.
As though she had no choice, Sasha nuzzled his throat. The scent of his blood called to her, intensified her thirst a thousand-fold. Her secondary fangs elongated as she put her lips to his flesh. Her mouth opened wide as her tongue flicked out and Ewan shuddered against her. Despite her need for apathy, her self-coached detachment, she wanted him. The tether had returned her soul, but as payment it had made her weak and dependent. Gods, would there ever be a time that she didn’t want him? She forced every torturous thought from her mind and bit down, allowing the sharp points of her fangs to break the skin.
His blood flowed over her tongue and Sasha allowed an indulgent moan. His taste had no equal and she wondered after so many times of doing this very thing, how in the hell she ever had the willpower to stop.
Ewan’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head. He held her tight against him as though worried she’d pull away. They were like a couple of junkies. Each one dependent on the other for something and knowing the only cure for their addiction was to go cold turkey. And yet, neither of them possessed the strength necessary to do that. The first time she’d pierced his vein, Ewan had been repulsed, disgusted by the act. And now, he craved it as much as she did. His hold on her, his demand that she drink from his throat was proof enough. The tether that bound them tightened. Saeed mourned for Sasha and perhaps he had reason to.
Sated, Sasha tried to pull away. Ewan refused to let her. The blunt pads of his fingers pressed against the back of her skull. “No.” The word was nothing more than a guttural sound. “Don’t stop. More.”
She’d been on the receiving end of a vampire bite enough times to know it was a euphoric experience for both parties involved. But the euphoria usually faded. Everyone came down from the high eventually. Was it that Ewan hadn’t come down yet? Or was he greedy to hold on to the sensation?
Sasha’s tongue flicked out at the punctures though it was hardly necessary. Vampires possessed a venom in their fangs that kept the wounds open in quick-healing supernatural creatures and their saliva was the only thing that could close the punctures. Not so with Ewan. Berserkers were beyond supernatural. The tiny openings she’d made would close on their own, but that didn’t stop Sasha from laying the flat of her tongue against his flesh just the same.
“It will weaken you if I take any more,” she murmured against his throat.
“No, it won’t.” His masculine confidence coaxed a smile to Sasha’s lips. “I’m strong enough.”
She didn’t doubt his strength for a second. It was her own that she worried about. It was Sasha who had to break the contact before she let herself go too far. Before she lost herself to him.
“Even the big bad berserker warlord only has so much blood in his body. I’ve taken enough. How about you replenish those stores for the next time I get hit with hellfire?”
“It won’t happen again.” He spoke with such arrogance. So sure himself. “Because I won’t let it.”
Yup. So damned overconfident. “Going to take on the world, huh?”
“If I have to.”
This was why Sasha couldn’t allow herself to get close. Because beneath his crass, rough exterior, behind his tough words, brutal fighting prowess, and cruel countenance, Sasha knew there was an honorable male. Someone she could admire and perhaps even … love.
Sasha couldn’t afford to give her heart to Ewan or anyone else. It was already so damaged, the slightest mishandling would destroy it completely. Ewan could crush it with little effort. At one time, Sasha had given Saeed the power to crush her and she refused to give it to anyone else. Even her own mate.
She breathed deeply of his alluring musky scent and held it in her lungs before pulling away. His grip on the back of her head loosened and he reluctantly allowed her to sit upright as she brought her forearm up for his inspection. “See? All better.”
Ewan’s gaze burned with that same intensity that both frightened and attracted her. No longer dark with rage, his irises were light golden brown. Beautiful and fathomless. Dusk gave way to night, casting strange shadows that made the bedroom seem unfamiliar. Sasha never slept here. It was simply a place where she could meet Ewan in private. Well, she guessed her privacy was shot to shit now that Saeed and the entirety of her coven knew her little secret.
He cradled her arm in his grip and put his mouth to the spot where the burn had been. The kiss was gentle, his lips soft and pliant. Her stomach curled into a tight knot as a delicious rush of pleasure cycled through her. He affected her with even the slightest touch. It was hard to remain detached and stoic when he could take command of her body with the simplest of acts.
“Sasha.” He said her name like it was a prayer. A holy word only to be uttered in a holy place. Her throat tightened as she willed the tender emotions that threatened to overtake her to the soles of her feet. He kissed his way up her arm, pausing only long enough to strip her shirt up the length of her body and over her head. Kissed the dip at the opposite side of her elbow. Her upper arm. Her shoulder. He reached behind and unfastened her bra, coaxing the straps down over her arms as he kissed along her collarbone to the hollow of her throat.
Feeding and sex often went hand in hand. It was a necessary act but also a sensual one. Foreplay. And the gods help her, Sasha didn’t want him to stop.
His tongue lashed out at her throat and Sasha sucked in a breath. Hot, wet, it swirled against her skin for a languorous moment before he grazed her flesh with his teeth. A shiver of anticipation danced over her skin. “Again,” she said on a breath. “Harder.”
Ewan’s muscles tensed beneath her. The heat of his tongue met her skin as though in preparation for the sharp sting of his bite. A rush of heat spread between Sasha’s thighs and she gripped Ewan’s shirt in her fists as she held him close.
She may not have wanted to lose herself to Ewan, but she was starting to realize that she might not have a choice.