“The painting makes you sad,” she said as a statement, not a question.

“It does.”

“Then why do you keep it?”

I didn’t know how to explain it, but I did my best. “It keeps me whole. It reminds me of my mother. Of a simple, sweet time in my life.”

Her brow pinched together as she stared at me with some tender emotion I couldn’t detect. But it swam in her beautiful eyes for some time until she cleared her throat and walked closer, eyeing the kitchen. “It’s getting late. I should—”

“Don’t go,” I found myself spitting out quickly and moving in a flash to stand right before her. “Not yet,” I begged, cupping her face with both hands, brushing my thumbs over her high cheekbones.

“I don’t know if—”

I kissed her, angling her pretty face so I could do it thoroughly. I’d gotten too serious for her, I was sure, so I nipped her bottom lip then smiled. “You said you had until ten o’clock.”

I kissed up her jaw. She tilted her head back, offering me her throat. She obviously had no idea that in the vampire world, that was equivalent to full submission. For blood. For sex. I bit back a groan, knowing she had no idea what this meant. Even so, I pretended for one fleeting minute that she was mine, licking a line down her throat to the base where her pulse beat hard.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded. “A little longer,” I clarified.

Her breathing quickened and the blanket fell to the floor. That was all the answer I needed. Kissing her deeply, I lifted her into my arms. Her long legs wrapped around me automatically, which pulled a growl from deep in my chest.

I settled onto the chaise lounge with her straddling me, her knees on the sofa. Without hesitation, I cupped one breast and sucked the tip of the other, teasing one nipple with my thumb, flicking the other with the stud in my tongue.

Her hands were in my hair, holding my face to her breast. Yeah. Just like that, she opened up for me. The timid girl vanished as she ground along the length of my hard dick. I moved to her other breast, teasing her pink nipples into tight peaks. By the way she was rocking against me, chasing her climax, she was ready. Not to mention the heady scent of her in the air. It was enough to drive me mad.

Wrapping a hand around her waist, I dipped her back. She sucked in a surprised breath.

“Condom and oil,” I managed to grit out, my canines extending again.

I’d have to feed soon, but right now there was only one thing I wanted. One woman.

She reached down and snatched a condom and the small bottle of oil off the coffee table. She dropped the condom into my hand but poured the oil into her own palm and rubbed it between her hands before spreading her palms across my chest, down my abs, back up. Before I could register the intense sensuality of her small hands mapping my body, she leaned down and sucked my pierced nipple again. I thought I’d blow right there in my briefs.

“Isadora,” I warned.

She lifted her head and found my mouth, shoving my boxers down a few inches, grinding her pussy down onto me. The sensation of skin sliding against hot skin urged me to get her inside me. Now!

I tore open a condom package with my teeth, pushed my underwear down to my knees, and rolled on the condom. Dropping some of the oil into my palm, I tossed the bottle somewhere on the floor and lubed my dick to give her more pleasure and ease on the entry.

She rose up on her knees so I could align us, then she sank down onto me on a long exhale.

Fucking hell.

This woman.

Her body.

Her soul.

I wanted it all.

I let her take the reins and fuck me like she wanted to. Her tempo was sweet like her. A little shy at first. Then confident and sure. She kissed me deep, her tongue exploring aggressively. So much so that she nicked her tongue on one of my canines.

She jerked away, her mouth agape, crimson staining her lip.

“Devraj.” Her eyes dilated, the green drowned by black, as the heady toxin my body gave off during feeding slipped a drop into her bloodstream. “Oh, my God,” she moaned, sliding back up and down my cock, her breathing growing more erratic. Restless. Frantic. And that from a single drop.

I gripped her waist and held her still so I could pump up inside her, give her the rougher thrusts she needed. I knew the toxin made people savage, violently needy.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she crooned, one hand going to her breast where she pinched her own nipple.

Fuck. Me.

On a carnal growl, I flipped her onto her back and licked the blood off her lip before I plunged back inside of her. If she was wild before, she was downright feral now, digging her nails into my back, making me insane with lust and need. I sucked on her tongue, the smallest taste of her blood like heroin, drugging me with a euphoric high as I stroked inside her.

“Isadora.”

I was begging her, but I didn’t know what for. For more of this? To put me out of my misery? To kill me now so I’d die the happiest of men?

She whimpered as I pumped deeper and devoured her mouth. All the while, she matched my frenzied state, clawing me with those lovely nails. Down my back, my arms, my chest. All it did was make me come harder, the tingling sensation shooting from the base of my spine and tensing every muscle in my body.

Arching my neck on a desperate groan, I let go, spilling into the condom—and for the first time wondering what it would be like to be skin on skin—wishing I’d held off for her. Even so, her own orgasm swept through her right after, milking my cock with violent vibrations.

We had come almost at the same time.

That rarely happened for me. I was accustomed to ensuring the woman found her pleasure, and then I’d take my own. But Isadora and I were in sync tonight. In a way that had my mind reeling.

I stared down at her, wondering if she was feeling the same way I was. I knew she hadn’t had many lovers from our previous conversations. I wondered if she’d ever experienced this before. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t always like this. This was new for me.

After that, we didn’t say anything. No playful comments. No smiles. Because whatever that was, it wasn’t playful. It felt like danger and providence and a shocking dose of destiny. Whereas I was perfectly ready to discuss and explore what that could mean, it was quite obvious that Isadora wasn’t.

After she gathered her clothes, she went to the bathroom and came back out fully dressed, her hair tied in a messy knot on her head. I’d redressed in my jeans.

“Um…” she started and then cleared her throat, glancing out the window toward her own house next door, though it was now too dark to see much. “I want to thank you. For tonight.”

So calm and poised. If she could pretend that didn’t blow her mind, then so could I. For now.

I crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t help but feel defensive as she pretended she hadn’t experienced what I had.

“You’re welcome,” I said pleasantly.

Though from her searching stare, she was trying to figure out what was going on in my head. Too bad. I wasn’t going to tell her. Because it would scare the living fuck out of her.

I followed her to the door and held it open.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around,” she said as she stepped out into the back courtyard.

Oh, she better fucking believe we would.

“I’m sure we will.”

Knowing she wouldn’t accept the kind of kiss goodbye that I wanted to give her, I leaned in and brushed a kiss on her cheek. The familiar flush of pink filled her face, and I wanted to laugh that a simple gesture like that could make her blush after what I’d witnessed of the vixen inside her.

“I enjoyed your company,” I said, giving her my disarming smile but injecting those few paltry words with deep sincerity.

Her emerald eyes glittered under the lamplight of my porch, still searching for some sign that I might say something else.

No way. It wasn’t happening.

“Goodnight, Isadora.”

She gave a little wave, hiked her bag over her shoulder, and said, “Goodnight.”

I watched her leave through the gate and pull her bike from behind my car. Rather than ride it, she walked it down the driveway.

She could take all the time she wanted, but there was one thing set in stone.

I wanted Isadora.

Not for a night. Not for a hookup. I wanted her glorious mind and beautiful body for as long as I was here in New Orleans. I didn’t want to let her go for one minute of the time we had to be together.

When Stygorns are in training, they’re always given one of many tests. One is to be dropped in the middle of nowhere, isolated dark forests or cold mountains where no humans live. Then they’re given a one-inch scrap of clothing with a scent on it that belongs to someone on the other side of the continent. We’re to decode the scents, categorize them into places they might come from, and track the person until we’re within scent range of our prey. This test can last months until the prey is found and caught. And we always got our prey. Always.

What Isadora Savoie didn’t know or understand was that one drop of her blood had set my body on fire. Perhaps my soul, too. Infecting me with a drive I couldn’t suppress even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to. There was something about her. She’d had me prowling and circling from the moment we met, and that fateful nick on her tongue sealed the deal.

I was now on the hunt. For her.

Chapter 16

~ISADORA~

This morning, I’d settled in at my desk and had written a letter to Mom on parchment paper with my quill pen. If anything could settle my nerves, it was always a pen-to-paper letter to Mom, releasing some of my magic into the words. Usually, the release of emotional energy always made me feel better. Calm, cool, and in control. But it didn’t work.

So I’d spent the rest of the day in my garden and was now in my greenhouse, trying like mad not to let my thoughts wander to the man next door.

I fiddled with another bunch of herbs, twining them tight for the twenty-sixth smudge stick I’d made today. I’d bundled cedar, rosemary, thyme, and lavender. Then added lemongrass, pine needles, and mugwort to a few, twining the hemp tightly. The activity had kept me busy, but my mind kept me busier, constantly drifting back to Devraj.