A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(3)

As she tried to remember her way to the airport where she’d landed, the rain started to fall, warm and light at first—April lovers still laughing as they ran under awnings—but swiftly turning to pounding cold. She came to a crowded avenue, feeling safer as she wound through traffic. She dodged cars with their wipers and horns going full-force. She didn’t see her pursuer.

With only the satchel slung around her neck, she traveled quickly, miles passing beneath her feet before she spied an open park and then the airfield just beyond it. She could see the diffused air around the jet engines as they warmed, could see the shades on every window already drawn tight. Almost there.

Emma convinced herself she’d lost him, because she was fast. She was also adept at convincing herself of things that might not be—good at pretending. She could pretend she took classes at night by choice, and that blushing didn’t make her thirsty—

A vicious growl sounded. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t turn back, just sprinted across the field. She felt claws sink into her ankle a second before she was dragged to the muddy ground and thrown onto her back. A hand covered her mouth, though she’d been trained not to scream.

“Never run from one such as me.” Her attacker didn’t sound human. “You will no’ get away. And we like it.” His voice was guttural like a beast’s, breaking, yet his accent was…Scottish?

As she peered up at him through the rain, he examined her with eyes that were golden in color one moment, then flickering that eerie blue the next. No, not human.

Up close, she could see his features were even, masculine. A strong chin and jaw complemented the chiseled planes. He was beautiful, so much so that she thought he had to be a fallen angel. Possible. How could she rule out anything?

The hand that had been covering her mouth roughly grasped her chin. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on her lips—on her barely noticeable fangs. “No,” he choked out. “No’ possible….” He yanked her head side to side, running his face down her neck, smelling her, then growled in fury, “Goddamn you.”

When his eyes turned blue sharply, she cried out, her breath seeming to leave her body.

“Can you trace?” he grated as though speech was difficult. “Answer me!”

She shook her head, uncomprehending. Tracing was how vampires teleported, disappearing and reappearing in thin air. Then he knows I’m a vampire?

“Can you?”

“N-no.” She’d never been strong or skilled enough. “Please.” She blinked against the rain, pleading with her eyes. “You have the wrong woman.”

“Think I’d know you. Make sure, if you insist.” He raised a hand—to touch her? Strike her? She fought, hissing desperately.

A callused palm grasped the back of her neck, his other hand clenching her wrists as he bent down to her neck. Her body jerked from the feel of his tongue against her skin. His mouth was hot in the chill, wet air, making her shudder until her muscles knotted. He groaned while kissing her, his hand squeezing her wrists hard. Below her skirt, drops of rain tracked down her thighs, shocking her with cold.

“Don’t do this! Please…” When her last word ended with a whimper, he seemed to come out of a trance, his brows drawing together as his eyes met hers, but he didn’t release her hands.

He flicked his claw down her blouse and sliced it and the flimsy bra beneath open, then slowly brushed the halves past her breasts. She struggled, but it was useless against his strength. He studied her with a greedy gaze as rain splattered down, stinging her naked breasts. She was shivering uncontrollably.

His pain was so sharp it nauseated her. He could take her or he could tear open her unprotected belly and kill her….

Instead he ripped open his own shirt, then placed his huge palms against her back to draw her to his chest. He groaned when their skin touched, and electricity seemed to flash through her. Lightning split the sky.

He rumbled foreign words against her ear. She felt they were…tender words, making her think she’d lost her mind. She went limp, her arms hanging while he shuddered against her, his lips so hot in the pouring rain as he ran them down her neck, across her face, even brushing them over her eyelids. There he knelt, clutching her; there she lay, boneless and dazed, as she watched the lightning slash above them.

His hand cradled the back of her head as he moved her to face him.

He seemed torn as he watched her with some fierce emotion—she’d never been looked at so…consumingly. Confusion overwhelmed her. Would he attack or let her go? Let me go….

A tear slipped down her face, warmth streaking down amidst the drops of rain.

The look disappeared. “Blood for tears?” he roared, clearly revolted by her pink tears. He turned away as if he couldn’t stand to look upon her, then blindly swatted at her shirt to close it. “Take me to your home, vampire.”

“I-I don’t live here,” she said in a strangled tone, staggered by what had just occurred, and by the fact that he knew what she was.

“Take me to where you stay,” he ordered, finally facing her as he stood before her.

“No,” she amazed herself by saying.

He, too, looked surprised. “Because you doona want me to stop? Good. I’ll take you here on the grass on your hands and knees”—he lifted her easily until she was kneeling—“till well after the sun rises.”