A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(52)

“Control?” She nodded slowly. “So you made a decision to attack me in the field and in the hotel room in Paris? You meant to strangle me?”

She thought he stifled a wince. “I need to explain something to you. You know I was imprisoned by the Horde, but you doona know that I’d been…tortured. It affected my behavior, my thinking.”

She had known he’d been tortured, just not how. “What did they do to you?”

His expression grew guarded. “I will never burden you with those details. Why did you no’ tell me you were part Valkyrie?”

“What difference would it have made? I’m still a vampire, and my aunts are still your enemies.”

“No, they’re no’,” he insisted. “I doona count among my enemies wee fey women who live on another continent.”

His dismissive tone rankled almost as much as if he’d admitted to being their enemy. “When is Annika coming for me?”

His eyes narrowed. “You made a promise to me to stay until the full moon.”

Emma gasped. “You didn’t…she isn’t coming for me?”

“No’ at this time.”

Her lips parted as disbelief hammered through her. “Incredible! Because you’re from the past, I’ll hip you to some rules. One rule is that when Emma is nearly killed by vampires, she gets a get-out-of-jail-free card from the Lykae’s little playdate.” She held up two fingers. “Another rule? Now that my aunts know what you are, they will kill you if you don’t send me to the coven immediately. Your best bet is to let me go as soon as possible.”

“If they can find this place, they deserve to try.”

Realizing how resolute he was about this, she felt her bottom lip trembling. “You would keep me from my family when I need them the most?” A hot tear tracked down her cheek. Before, he’d appeared revolted by her tears. Now he looked…tormented, quickly reaching forward to brush it away.

“You want to go home and you will, but no’ for just a few days more.”

Not bothering to hide her frustration, she asked, “What difference will a few days make?”

“I ask you the same.”

She gritted her teeth, fighting aggravation, fighting her useless tears.

He cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. His voice sounding rough, he said, “Lass, if I have you here for such a short time, I doona want to quarrel with you. For now, let me show you Kinevane.” He rose to cross to the thick curtains, opening them wide, then returned for her. Though she stiffened and leaned away, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her across the spacious room to the balcony. “You’ll be surprised to know that it’s still mine. No Wal-Mart.”

Outside she saw the moon rising over a stately castle, lighting its ancient bricks and magnificent lawns. A fog was rolling in and carried a hint of brine.

He pointed off into the distance. “You canna see the walls surrounding the property, but know that whenever you are within them, you are protected.”

When he sat her on the railing, her legs immediately threaded through its marble balusters even though he held her hips.

She saw he noted this with a frown but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he asked, “What do you think?”

He appeared proud, as he should with a place like this. Amidst the stone frontage of the castle were stunning herringbone formations of brick that framed the windows and matched the walks and even the back of the huge fireplace in this bedroom. The gardens were immaculate, and if the rest of the castle was decorated as sumptuously as his bedroom, then this Kinevane was a testament to luxury. Her Valkyrie sensibilities couldn’t help but appreciate it.

“Well?” He looked expectant. He wanted her to like it.

She turned, lifting her gaze above the tree line to regard the moon. “I think I only have a few days left until the moon is full.”

When she turned back, she found his jaw was clenched.

She pushed her knotted hair back and it felt gritty. “I want a shower,” she said, ducking to glance around his torso, spying out a bathroom.

She squirmed, wriggling her hips from his hands, until he finally let her down.

“I’ll help you. You’re still weak—”

“A shower. A lone!” she snapped as she strode into the opulent—and modern—bathroom. She rushed to lock the heavy door behind her, having discovered to her horror that her nails were dirty.

She removed the shirt he’d dressed her in—his, she noticed—and stared at the ugly, raised marks winding down her chest. An involuntary moan escaped her as she swayed. For the rest of her life, she would never forget the look in that vampire’s eyes just before he’d clawed her. She recalled she’d regretted head-butting him. Now I’m going to get it, she’d thought as his hand swung up above her. Why had she provoked him?

She turned on the shower, waiting until it steamed, then stepped under the water. A red stream ran as dried blood rinsed clean from her hair, and she focused on it, shivering. Three vampires. The red swirled round and round into the drain. Why did I provoke him?

But who was alive now?

She should be dead right now. But she wasn’t. She’d survived them.

She frowned. She’d survived vampires. And the sun. And a Lykae attack—all this week. Her worst fears for dozens of years were becoming—she bit her lip—old hat?