Fear the Darkness

“Don’t make me into a hero, Cassie.” He scowled. “We both know I started out as the villain of the piece.”



Her lips twitched. She might not be worldly, but she knew that Caine was far more comfortable with his bad-boy image. And from what he’d confessed, he deserved the reputation.



But as far as she was concerned, he’d always be her champion.



“If you were a villain, then you wouldn’t be here with me,” she pointed out softly.



He snorted, running a searing gaze down her slender curves shown to advantage by the dress. “Have you looked in the mirror?” he demanded. “There isn’t a red-blooded male who wouldn’t kill to share a hotel room with you.”



She ignored his ridiculous words, tilting her head to study him with a curious gaze. “Why do you stay?”



“I just told you.”



Her fingers tightened on his wrist, annoyed by his flippant tone. “I’m unfamiliar with the world, but I’m not stupid, Caine.”



He arched a golden brow. “I never thought you were.”



“I’ve seen how the females watch you.”



“Really?” Something dark and predatory flashed through his eyes. “And how’s that?”



She glanced toward the gaggle of women who pretended to watch the roulette table while they were sneaking looks of longing in Caine’s direction. For no reason at all, she felt the sudden urge to bare her teeth at them. Or maybe she would yank out a few handfuls of their overbleached hair.



“They would be eager to share their bodies with you,” she said, an edge in her voice she’d never heard before. “If all you desired was sex, then you could find a much easier, not to mention a far more experienced, bed partner.”



A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he abruptly wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her tight against his body. “There’s sex and then there’s what is going to happen between us.”



She trembled, a pleasurable heat exploding in the pit of her stomach. “And what’s that?” she husked.



His gaze dipped to her lips, the scent of his wolf filling the air. “Magic.”



Entranced by the sensations flowing through her, Cassie tilted back her head to study his beautiful face. “You haven’t told me why you stay.”



For a long moment she thought he might refuse to answer. Then, threading his fingers in her hair, he heaved a faint sigh. “You could say that I’m trying to even the scales.”



“Even the scales?”



His expression became distracted as he allowed his fingers to run through her hair, as if mesmerized by the satin smoothness of the strands. “Because of my bloated ego, the Weres were nearly destroyed,” he said, clearly regretting the years he’d devoted to helping Briggs, a crazed Were who’d been in league with the demon lord holding her captive. “It’s only fair that I sacrifice to keep their most prized possession safe.”



She tensed at his low words, absurdly hurt. “So I’m a duty?”



His head lowered so he could bury his face in the curve of her neck, breathing deeply of her scent. “That’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.”



She laid her hands against his chest, angling her head so he could have easier access to the vulnerable line of her throat.



This was Caine. And she trusted him without question.



“I’m not sure what that means,” she breathed.



He went rigid at her unspoken gesture of capitulation, his fingers biting into the curve of her hip before he was abruptly jerking away, a flush staining his cheeks.



“Neither do I, and I intend to keep it that way,” he muttered, turning to head across the gaudy carpet of the casino.



“Caine?” She hurried after him, unsure what she’d done wrong. “What is it?”



“Dinner.” His step never slowed as he grimly headed for the nearby buffet.



“You’re hungry?”



“Christ, you have no freaking idea.”



Gaius’s lair in the Louisiana wetlands



The Immortal Ones were the stuff of legends.



Centuries ago a clan of vampires had chosen to leave the world behind. Using Nefri’s powerful medallion, they’d traveled through the Veil to another dimension where they were secluded from the weaknesses that plagued the less civilized.



Beyond the Veil there was no hunger, no lust, no need for sleep.



Instead, they devoted their nights to studying among the endless libraries or cultivating the gardens that managed to grow despite the lack of sunlight. And their days to meditation.



But it was the rumors that they retained the old powers lost to the vampires of this world that made them feared.



Most of the gossip was exaggerated, but there were still some forgotten talents that could be mastered.



Which, of course, was precisely why Gaius had petitioned to travel through the Veil after the death of his mate. Although most had assumed that he’d been seeking the peace to be found on the other side.



As if meditation and flowers could ease the brutal loss of his beloved Dara.



Stupid bastards.



Forced to stand and watch his mate being burned at the stake by a rival vampire clan, Gaius would have walked straight into the sun if it hadn’t been for the Dark Lord.



Even as Dara had burned, the powerful deity had appeared as a misty shadow at his side, whispering promises of Dara’s return from the grave, all for the small price of Gaius’s soul.



It was a trade-off that Gaius had made without a second thought. The return of his mate? Hell yes, he’d sell his soul a dozen times over. And it was a decision he hadn’t regretted, despite the long years of seclusion beyond the Veil.



Obeying his new lord, he’d avoided attracting attention while learning the skill of shape-shifting and eventually using the medallion he’d found hidden beneath one of the fountains to mist-walk. It was the latter skill that had allowed him to escape undetected from the Veil to return to the world he’d left behind so many years ago.



Briefly disoriented by his abrupt journey, Gaius leaned against the nearest cypress tree and struggled to regain his balance.



He felt . . .



Yeah. That was it.



He felt all the things that were forgotten on the other side.



The weight of his slender body covered by a simple robe. The summer breeze that stirred the dark strands of his hair, which he wore short and slicked from his face. Startled, he lifted a hand to touch the chilled skin of his cheek before trailing down the strong thrust of his nose, which bore the proud stamp of his days as a Roman general. Most creatures would find him handsome, he vaguely recalled, although his dark eyes remained as bleak and lifeless as the day he’d watched Dara die.



And then he was struck by less desirable sensations.



With a frown his fingers shifted to the fangs that suddenly throbbed at the distant scent of human blood.



Hunger.



And not just of the liquid variety, he angrily realized, his body hardening with a nearly forgotten ache of desire.



Shoving away the unpleasant realization, Gaius grimly turned his attention to the secluded house that was located on the edge of the Louisiana swamp.



Built on brick stilts, it was a large structure painted white with black shutters and a screened-in wraparound porch. The front yard was filled with large trees draped in Spanish moss that effectively hid the place from the narrow path that led to the small town.



All in all it was the perfect place for a vampire to remain hidden.



Which was no doubt why the Dark Lord had sent him here to wait for his next orders.



Ignoring the humid heat and swarms of bugs that filled the air, Gaius made his way through the front gate and up the wide staircase. He stepped through the door of the porch, relieved to catch sight of the overhead fan providing a much needed breeze.



Although he’d been on the other side of the Veil, he was well aware of the changes in this world, and after centuries of choosing a spartan existence to concentrate on his studies, he was anxious to enjoy a lair equipped with all the modern technology. Including electricity and a hot shower.



And privacy.



Narrowing his gaze, he belatedly realized the scent of human was coming from inside the house. And that it was drawing closer.



His time away had made him sloppy, he chastised himself, reaching beneath his robe to withdraw the pugio—a small Roman dagger—he’d hidden among the satin folds. Then, moving with a silent speed, he shoved open the door and stepped into the shadows of the living room.



“Who is there?” he growled, his gaze skimming over the padded bamboo chairs and couch that were scattered over the wooden floorboards.



There was a faint rustle, then the lights tucked in the high, open-beamed ceiling were flipped on and a young female stepped into the room.



“Me.”



Gaius tucked away his dagger. If he decided to kill the human it would be by draining all that sweet, tempting blood.



“Be more precise,” he commanded, his speech pattern becoming rigidly formal as his anger overcame his months of secret training to mingle among the natives.



“Sally Grace.”



His gaze narrowed as he studied the intruder. She might have been cute in a childish manner, with her dark hair pulled into two braids on each side of her pale, pretty face. But her brown eyes were heavily lined with makeup and her full lips painted a shocking shade of black and pierced with a gold hoop. There was a matching hoop in one brow and a dozen more along the shell of her ear.

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