CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Valeria stood immobile, alone in a lost cabin in the woods, with a dead, bloodless body at her feet and a possibly feral vampire standing in front of her.
With her powers, she wouldn’t feel so vulnerable, but she was damned if she would let him know that. He probably sensed magic shimmering all over her skin, but Valeria doubted he could feel the break in her.
Vampires were similar to beasts, with veneer thick enough to make them appear civilized. But weren’t they all wolves in sheep’s clothing? Humans and magical beings alike?
They stood silently, as if waiting for the other one to draw first. And as she couldn’t shield herself, he probably smelled a mixture of fear, anger and possibly some arousal. How a woman couldn’t feel at least a little lust with the body standing in front of her? A tall, muscled man, topped with a mess of deep reddish hair. He was old. Or rather his soul was older than his body appeared, his immortal body likely chiseled by the gods. Another clue to his age was the faded tattoo, partly obscured, on his left pectoral. Definitely not contemporary, it appeared to have been inked by hand, a technique of an older era. Oddly enough, her mother had studied tattooing techniques, as some of them held quite powerful magic, and she could discern some of them on him. It was a pet project of hers, evidently unknown to her father.
“It doesn’t look Japanese, although I suspect it’s from the same century as the Edo period.”
The frozen statue before her blinked. As he wasn’t breathing, it was the only sign that he hadn’t turned rock solid.
“It was done a little before that, witch, and on another continent.”
The slight lilt in his voice gave him away. “Celtic, then. Irish now, I guess.”
No sign of acknowledgment apart from an almost indistinguishable swirl in his green eyes.
More waiting, but this time, part of her relaxed and she smiled.
“So? I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here before that asshat of an ex-fiancé comes back with too many friends for either of us can handle.”
Going to the door, the vampire blocked her, quick, only a blur, which surprised her as his kind was normally slower, weaker in the daylight.
Valeria had rubbed shoulders with some frighteningly powerful beings as her father had been a beacon for many of them. If this vampire wanted to make her crawl, power or not, he would need to do better than that.
“I saved you, and that’s how you thank me? Walk away, vampire, enjoy your freedom and leave me alone.”
Ducking under his arm, she opened the door and started walking back to the truck, not even looking back. In fact, her mind was whirling with too much information to even think about the vampire. Her mind was still functioning, but her heart was shattered. So broken, it made her numb.
James was the new Lancaster heir; the next Chief Enforcer, even though the entire force had been disbanded. And what about the assassination of Ian’s wife and daughter? The disappearance of Robert and Ellen? And her mother? So far, it was said that she was in a coma, but nobody had seen her in a while. Her imagination running wild, she even dared see her mother dead, or even worse, an accomplice of a scheme she barely understood. Other events and rumors she had heard popped like a macabre list.
Thoughts and possibilities flashed fast in her head, so much that the world started spinning, and she reached blindly for a tree. Emotions clogged her throat, and she decided to let herself fall, along with the tears she was holding for far too long.
But her hand never reached a tree, and her knees didn’t hit the ground. Instead, she was caught by unyielding, icy arms. The vampire.
“Easy there, wildcat. I got you.”
His voice was a deep rumble, but not animalistic, like Asher’s. It would have been the sound of his voice before he was turned. A long time ago.
Valeria wanted to jerk away from his touch, but he kept a firm grip. When she looked up, his face was inches from hers. Up close, she could see gashes healing on his forehead and cheekbone. But it was his expression that made her hesitate. Puzzlement.
“Why don’t you use your powers on me, witch? I feel you angry at me and yet…”
No way was she going to spill it all to him, a virtual stranger.
“Because I believe you to be a gentleman and letting me go because you owe me one.”
Still as a statue, his mouth barely lifted into a grin. “I’m no gentleman, but after everything I heard back in the cabin…”
“You’re making suppositions on matters that don’t concern you… matters that you know nothing about.”
“Is that so?” As he arched an eyebrow, his smile blossoming into a wicked one. So unusual for a vampire to smile. But beyond the dazzling grin that made her giddy, she knew there was still a dangerous monster lurking near its edges, with glistening fangs to go with it. The charisma blurred her own perspective, images of Asher mixing with one of the vampires, but with one distinct difference. The energy. Asher’s power came from his wolf, from being a protective alpha that couldn’t be contested under any circumstances for the well-being of the pack. This vampire was all about sex and domination. Not for the greater good, but for his own personal agenda. And that was the path of vampires.
Bloodsuckers didn’t have a compassionate, generous or caring nature. It’s what made them survivors as lone beings in their world. Compared to covens or packs, vampires never gathered among themselves for long, but still respected the vampire in charge of a particular territory.
As she was thinking about pushing some of her magic onto him, the vampire pulled her closer and kissed her.
Oh yeah, in his lips she tasted cool powers and pure lush lust. She had been right, and now her body reacted to it.
Pushing and pulling him at the same time, she was about to remember someone really important when the vampire was wrenched from her arms.
And a few feet away, a big golden wolf faced a really pissed off vampire.