The berserker didn’t offer his name. Instead, he flashed a smile that was almost cruel. Sadistic. Did he know what he’d done to her? What he’d inadvertently done to himself? Sasha studied him for a quiet moment. He was one of the most reviled creatures in the supernatural world, and yet, she was drawn to him unlike any other. His scent—sweet when it should have been rancid—ignited her thirst. The sight of him drove her mad with want. She’d watched his display of violence with morbid fascination, not even a little scared. Okay, maybe a little. But it only added to the thrill.
He seized her by the wrist and turned to walk away. At the same moment, Ani reached out to grab Sasha’s other hand. “Are you crazy, Sasha?” The sylph’s eyes practically bulged out of her head with disbelief. “You can’t go with him!”
No, she probably shouldn’t. But that’s exactly what Sasha was going to do. She disengaged her hand from Ani’s grip. “I’ll be all right. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sasha.”
The urgency in her friend’s voice gave her pause. “It’s okay.” She didn’t have time to explain her situation. At this point, she didn’t even know if she wanted to explain it. “I’ll text you later. I promise.”
The berserker gave an urgent tug on her wrist and Sasha followed his lead through the crowd. She had no idea where he was leading her and she didn’t care. She was a slave to her thirst. To her desire. To this dangerous male who’d tethered her soul without even realizing it. For all she knew, he was about to take her to a back alley where he would kill her. If that were the case, Sasha hoped he’d do it quickly. Because honestly, what other option was there for two mortal enemies who’d been inexorably bound together by fate?
No matter what, Sasha knew she was on the road to disaster.
The berserker paid no mind to those brave enough to congratulate him on his victory. His grip tightened around Sasha’s wrist as he led her down the narrow concrete hallway. They came to a stop where the corridor branched off into two hallways. It only took a moment for him to come to a decision and he pulled Sasha to the left and into the nearest bathroom. He didn’t utter a single word as he spun her to face him and backed her up to the counter.
Sasha’s heart raced in her chest. Adrenaline dumped into her bloodstream, the fight-or-flight reflex at war with her own raging thirst and desire. The berserker closed the space between them, leaning into Sasha’s body. His arms came to rest on the countertop on either side of her to pin her in place. Long moments passed and he simply stared. There was nothing soft in his expression. Nothing tender. So void of emotion it caused a chill to race down Sasha’s spine. There was heat, though. Intensity. Something so foreign to her that she didn’t really know how to interpret it.
“I should kill you.” His voice was a low, dangerous growl. Sasha’s stomach muscles contracted and a warm, wet rush spread between her thighs. The very vulnerable position she’d put herself in shouldn’t have been a turn-on and yet, every inch of her vibrated with anticipation. The berserker leaned in close until his lips brushed the outer shell of her ear. “But I’m going to fuck you instead.”
Oh gods. Sasha’s lids drifted shut at his heated words. She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. Instinct and the tether that had instantaneously bound her to him guided her. Heat unfurled within her like a length of fiery ribbon. Her breaths were quick and tight, and her eyes remained closed as she waited for him to act. He dropped his nose to her throat and inhaled. A low growl gathered in his chest and Sasha swore she felt its vibration over every inch of her skin.
The suspense continued to ratchet to the point that she didn’t think she could take another second. Her arms remained braced on the counter behind her, fingers flexing as she gripped the edge. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, desperate to pierce his skin and glut herself on his blood, and yet unable to do so. A tremor settled in her thighs as her body went rigid with anticipation. No male had ever affected her in such a visceral way after having done so very little to arouse her.
Sasha drew in a surprised gasp as he seized her by the hips and spun her around. He reached in front of her to unfasten her jeans before jerking them, along with her underwear, down around her ankles. Sasha allowed her eyes to open to find him watching her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Once again, the dark intensity of his gaze caused her heart to stutter in her chest and the Formica countertop cracked beneath her fingernails as she tightened her grip.
He reached between them. His hand brushed her bare ass as he yanked down the loose-fitting workout pants past his hips. He laid his palm to her back and pressed her down, not roughly but with insistence. Sasha had never been so ready to be taken. Her body trembled, her thighs slick with arousal. Her own heartbeat thundered in her ears and silver overtook her irises as she held his gaze in the mirror.
He put his hands to her hips and jerked her backward, angling her exactly how he wanted her. The heat of his erection probed at her opening and Sasha sucked in a sharp breath. He drove home with every ounce of urgency she felt and she let out an indulgent moan of relief as he filled her completely. Sasha expected this to be nothing more than a quick, urgent interlude that would end before it even had a chance to begin. Instead, the berserker took his time with her. He fucked her slow and deep, every thrust executed as though he’d carefully planned it out. Sasha couldn’t tear her eyes away from his reflection. His auburn brows bunched together on his forehead, his jaw squared, and his nostrils flared with every labored breath. She waited for the moment when inky black would overtake his beautiful dark gold irises and fan out in terrifying tendrils over his cheeks. That moment never came. The monster she’d been taught to fear never showed its face. He reached between her legs and slid his fingers over her pussy until he found the swollen nerves of her clit.
His touch broke her apart in an instant.
Sasha cried out as pleasure radiated through her. The deep pulsing waves crashed over her, battered her, and left her raw and shaken. Her gaze never left his. The intimacy of it betrayed the casual way they’d ended up here. His eyes became hooded as he dragged his fingers through her wetness before pulling his hand back to her hip as his thrusts became faster, wild and disjointed.
He let out a low moan as he thrust hard and deep one last time. His body trembled against her as he held her tight and his head fell back on his shoulders. Sasha’s head dropped to rest on her arms as she fought to catch her breath. His hands left her hips to once again brace his weight against the countertop and he remained buried inside of her for several moments before pulling out.
Sasha let out a shuddering breath as she was overtaken with emotion. The hinges of the bathroom door squeaked and groaned with the berserker’s passage and Sasha looked up into the mirror to find herself alone. Tears pricked at her eyes moments before their wet warmth slid down her cheeks. She had no idea why she cried. It could’ve been the return of her soul, or her own misfortune that prompted her tears. More likely, it was the sheer intensity of the past moments that prompted such an emotional response. Even now, she was raw, shaken, and so weak she wasn’t sure she could support her own weight. Thirst burned in her throat, unquenched. The berserker’s scent lingered on her skin and Sasha drew in a deep breath and held it in her lungs. She didn’t dare move. Couldn’t. There was too damned much to process and she couldn’t wrap her head around it all. She swiped at her cheeks and forced herself to quell the sudden burst of emotions that she wasn’t prepared to deal with. She’d gotten used to not having a soul. Enjoyed her watered-down feelings. In a single moment the berserker had taken everything she’d made herself into over the past several months and decimated it.
He hadn’t killed her. But he might’ve damned well destroyed her.
* * *
Ewan’s legs were as sturdy as Jell-O as he rushed down the corridor toward the tiny room where Drew waited for him. They’d agreed early on that if Drew didn’t actually watch him fight he still had a certain amount of deniability that would protect him if Gregor found out what they were up to. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to slow his racing heart and scrubbed a hand over his face.
Gods. What in the hell had he just done?
Sasha’s face was burned in his memory. He still felt the tingle of sensation from where their bodies touched. Her cries of passion echoed in his ears and he reached down to adjust his erection that jutted out from his gods-damned pants. He was hard as a fucking stone and ready to have her again. His step faltered as he considered turning around and burying himself to the hilt in all of that tight, wet heat once more. But fighting and killing for money was an offense worthy of a slap on the wrist compared to what he’d just done.
Taking the vampire—and likewise, walking away afterward—was beyond treasonous. The ultimate betrayal. Ewan couldn’t muster an ounce of guilt, however. He’d wanted her. He wanted her still. And now that he’d had her he didn’t experience the sense of relief—of release—he thought he’d feel. Instead, the sultry vampire had managed to work her way under his skin in an instant. Ewan knew that once would not be enough.
“What took you so long?” Drew pushed himself up from the bench as Ewan entered the makeshift locker room. “From the sounds of it, the fight was over a half hour ago.”
Had it been that long? He raked his fingers through his hair and let out a forceful breath. “The crowd was rowdy tonight. Lots of sore losers and ecstatic winners.”
Drew smirked. “I thought you’d drag it out longer. Must’ve been antsy tonight, huh?”
That was one way to put it. His focus had been shit, his brain too full of Sasha to concentrate on anything else. He was still rattled. Still preoccupied. He might’ve been in this room talking to Drew, but his mind was back there, with her.
Ewan shrugged. “Wasn’t much of a challenge. I didn’t see any point in dragging it out.”
“As long as you get paid, I guess it doesn’t matter, right?” Drew folded his arms across his chest as he regarded Ewan. “You look a little on edge, cousin. What happened up there?”
He swallowed down an amused snort. It’s not like Drew would believe him if he told him the truth. “Lost myself deep in the fight tonight. That’s all.”
He didn’t have to explain himself further. Drew knew exactly what he meant. “You’ll sleep it off and feel fine in the morning.”
Giving themselves over to mindless battle rage took its toll. Drew was right. In most cases Ewan would sleep it off and be right as rain the next day. It wasn’t the fight that had him on edge, though. And a good night’s rest wasn’t going to do shit for what plagued him. He settled down onto the bench that Drew had occupied a moment before and rested his elbows on his knees as he let his head hang between his shoulders.
“When’s the next fight?” The only thing that might have a chance of distracting him from the vampire was the opportunity to make a shitload of fast cash. If he was too busy fighting, he wouldn’t be tempted to go looking for her. The only thing that would get him was a world of trouble.
“Day after tomorrow,” Drew replied. “They’re switching venues again. An abandoned gym somewhere in the Valley. The address will be texted to me the day of.”
“Good.” The chances of the vampire finding him at a new venue might be slim. He needed to do everything in his power to ensure he didn’t see her again. He’d played with fire tonight and enjoyed the lick of flames far too much. He had enough to worry about, he couldn’t afford to pile one more thing on his plate.
“Did you collect the purse?”
Ewan looked up at Drew. “Not yet.” He’d been too obsessed with the vampire to give a single shit about the money he’d won.
“Get it and let’s go,” Drew said. “Gregor’s got a bug up his butt tonight and wants everyone front and center.”
Great. What could he possibly want now? Gregor’s sanity—as well as his temper—balanced on a razor’s edge lately. If any of them was unaccounted for when he snapped his high-and-mighty fingers, there’d be hell to pay. “Another wild goose chase, no doubt.”
For months, they’d been doing Gregor’s bidding, one unreasonable task after another, all of them seemingly without rhyme or reason. They’d had a brief reprieve while Gregor and a few of his most trusted soldiers had gone to Seattle to find … Hell, Ewan had no idea. But now that he was back, there would be no rest. At least, not until Ewan made enough money to get the fuck out of here and as far from Gregor—and his own past—as possible.
Drew shrugged. “Not sure. At any rate, I’m not interested in keeping him waiting.”
Honestly, neither was Ewan. Ian Gregor was the last male on the planet he wanted to piss off. “I’ll get our money and meet you out front.” He pushed himself up from the bench. Gods, it was going to be a long night.
“All right.” Drew cut him a look. “You sure you’re okay?”
Not by a long fucking shot. “Yeah.” He made his tone as light as possible. “We better get our asses in gear. I don’t want to give anyone reason to question where we’ve been.”
“You and me both, cousin,” Drew said. “I’ll get the car.”
Ewan waited for Drew to leave the locker room before settling back down on the bench. He blew out another slow breath that did nothing to calm the storm that brewed within him. He didn’t have the energy or presence of mind for one of Gregor’s insane missions tonight. His eyes drifted shut and his mouth went slack as he relived the memory of fucking Sasha. He’d only scratched the surface of what he’d wanted to do with her. Had yearned to put his lips to her satin-smooth flesh. He’d wanted to touch her. To let his palms roam freely over every inch of her. He’d wanted her naked. Completely exposed to him and on display for his gaze to admire. He was far from satisfied.
He’d lost himself so easily to her. It stung his pride as much as it piqued his curiosity. He should’ve wanted to kill her. Should’ve gladly carried the burden of Gregor’s vendetta. He could have led her away tonight and run a silver dagger through her heart. One look at her, however, and causing her harm was the last thing on his mind. Was she a vampire, or gods-damned witch? Because he’d fallen easily enough under her seductive spell.
He’d wasted enough time. Ewan once again pushed himself up from the bench. He rolled his shoulders before swiping up his discarded T-shirt and gym bag from a nearby shelf. Funny how these moments spent in the silver cage made him feel more normal than any other in his miserable existence. He lived a shadow of a life, one constructed by a madman hell-bent on vengeance. And until he won his freedom, nothing was going to change.