A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(26)

With a foul curse, he lifted her from the water. Her hands were still against his chest, clutching a little. He toweled her off, then laid her on the bed, her blond hair fanning out, the ends damp. The exquisite scent of it swept him up. Shaking, he peeled her wicked undergarments from her. He inwardly groaned at her body, about to spread her legs and set upon it with a vengeance.

Barely awake, she murmured, “Can I sleep in one of your shirts?”

He stood back, clenching his fists, brows drawn. Why would she want to be dressed in his clothing? Why did he want it as well? He ached, he needed to be inside her so badly, and yet he was stalking to his bag. At this rate, he’d be returning to the shower and bringing himself release. How else could he make it through the day with her?

He dressed her in one of his new undershirts though it swallowed her, then put her under the cover. Just as he’d drawn it up to her chin, she woke and sat up. She squinted at him, turned to regard the window, then gathered the cover and the pillow and bedded down on the floor, tucking herself into the side of the bed.

Out of the path of the window.

When he scooped her up, she whispered, “No. I need to be down there. I like it down there.”

Of course she did. Vampires craved low places, sleeping in shadowed corners and under beds. As a Lykae, he’d always known exactly where to find them to sever their heads before they even woke.

Anger flared again. “No longer.” She slept with him from now on, and he would never even entertain the idea of accepting that unnatural custom of his enemy. “I will no’ let the sun get you again, but you’ll break yourself of this.”

“Why do you care?” she asked so softly he barely heard her.

Because you’ve been out of my bed for far too long.



Annika’s broken body lay trapped in the bricks. Helpless, she could do nothing but watch when the vampire brushed away Lucia’s arrows as though they were flies.

Annika shared Lucia’s obvious disbelief. Cursed long ago to feel unfathomable pain if she missed a target, Lucia suddenly shrieked, dropping her bow as she fell. She lay writhing, her fingers curled, screaming until she’d shattered every window and light in the manor.

In the distance, a Lykae howled, a deep, guttural sound of rage.

Darkness, except for the lightning now thrashing the earth and a flickering gas lamp outside.

Ivo’s red eyes were ablaze in the lamplight, his expression amused. Lothaire secretly appeared in the background once more but did nothing. Lucia still screamed. The Lykae roared in answer—nearing them? Regin alone against three. “Leave us, Regin,” Annika bit out.

Then…a shadow moved inside. White teeth and fangs. Pale blue eyes glowed in the darkness. It crept over to Lucia’s twitching form. Annika could do nothing. So helpless. In the scant lulls between bolts, he looked human. In the silver flashes, he was a beast, a man with the shadow of a beast.

Annika wanted her strength as she never had, wanted to kill it so slowly. The beast pawed at Lucia’s face. Annika couldn’t bear to—

It was trying to brush away Lucia’s tears? He lifted her, then crossed to a corner, tucking her behind a table.

Why wasn’t it ripping her throat out?

It reared up with a terrible fury and launched itself at the vampires, fighting beside a shocked, but quickly adapting Regin until the two vampire followers were decapitated. Ivo and the horned one traced away, fleeing. Enigmatic Lothaire merely nodded, then dissappeared.

The Lykae sprang for Lucia, then crouched beside her as she stared up in awe and horror. When Annika closed her eyes and opened them once more, it had disappeared, leaving Lucia shaking.

“What the f*ck?” Regin cried, circling around as though shell-shocked.

Just then Kaderin the Coldhearted arrived, jogging up the glass-covered porch. Ever blessed to feel no raw emotions, she chided gently, “Language, Regin.” Then she entered the war zone, and even she raised an eyebrow as she leisurely drew her swords from the thin sheaths at her back.

“Annika!” Regin cried, digging through brick. Annika strained to answer but couldn’t. She’d never felt so helpless, never been beaten so badly.

“What has happened here?” Kaderin demanded, searching for a kill yet holding her swords so loosely, her wrists fluid as she swirled them in tight circles. When Lucia crawled out from behind the table, Kaderin backed her way to her.

“Vampires attacked. And you just missed the Lykae on top of all this,” Regin sputtered, digging frantically. “The f*cking monster mash—Annika?”

Annika managed to work a hand out of the rubble. Regin gripped it, hauling her free.

Dimly, Annika spied N?x perched on the rail of the stairs above. She called down in a petulant tone, “How inconsiderate not to wake me when we are entertaining.”



Emma woke precisely at sundown, frowning as she recalled the details of the morning. Hazily, she remembered Lachlain’s big, warm hands kneading the stiffness from her muscles, making her moan as he’d rubbed her neck and back.

Perhaps Lachlain wasn’t the insanely brutish animal she thought him. She’d known he wanted to make love to her—she’d felt how badly—yet he’d refrained. Then later, she’d sensed him returning from the shower and climbing in bed with her. His skin had still been damp and so warm as he’d tucked her bottom into his lap and placed her head on his outstretched arm. She’d felt his erection growing behind her. He’d grated a foreign word as though he cursed it, but he’d never acted on his desire.