Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(86)

Am I really going to do this? Sober?

He seemed to think so. Apparently, so did some part of her she scarcely recognized.

With Daciano holding her hand, she descended the first stair.

And the second.

After a deep breath, she conquered the final one—but she curled her fingers to keep hold of his until the last moment. . . .

Just as her boot met the spongy ground, she lost that contact with the vampire and faltered, gazing back over her shoulder.

But pride lit Daciano’s masculine face, his green eyes aglow with it, his chest bowed.

Great. Now I have to do this thing, if only for more of that addictive look.

The glade lay ahead. She swallowed. How had she not noticed that the trunks and roots of those trees were so monstrous, that the fog was so creepy?

But the sounds were still raucous. Seize it!

The twenty-five feet were the longest of her life. Her thoughts raced, keeping pace with her frantic heartbeat: Before the rain comes the clear. Terror or beauty? Daciano is nearby. He’ll annihilate any Vrekeners. Nice picnic, nice picnic. Vrekener torture.

And then . . . she was in the glade, shoulders hunched—but still there.

“I-I made it,” she tentatively called, half disbelieving. “Out to the middle.”

“And so you did, love,” he called back. He couldn’t possibly sound prouder.

Within seconds, a break opened in the fog bank, just as she’d known it would. A downdraft of warm air dissipated the mist, as if in the eye of a hurricane. She was in the middle of a tunnel of clear.

She swallowed. Terror or beauty? With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her face.

Bettina didn’t find attackers; she saw . . . a scene from dreams.

“Vampire, you’re going to want to see—”

He was already at her side.

Above them, the nearly full moon was a silvery coin. Fireflies as big as Bettina’s hand hovered in the sky, glowing gold, leaving tracers of light. Fluorescent crimson petals spun in the gentle vortex, twinkling red lights. Glossy leaves swirled down leisurely, moonlight striking their surface. . . .

I made it here, and I was rewarded. What other rewards had she missed out on?

She felt something shifting inside her chest.

Was she ready to traipse around town by herself? Not quite. Was she healed from her fear? Uh-uh. But right now, she felt none.

And she knew she’d turned the corner toward recovering.

Daciano didn’t say anything for long moments, just seemed to marvel at the sight above them. Never looking down, he reached for her hand again, clasping it in his. “You’re lifting a film from my eyes, Bett. I never want to go back to the way I was before.”

She stopped looking at the sky, turning her attention to something just as remarkable—the vampire’s face tipped up to the moon.

So handsome she nearly lost her breath.

His eyes were heavy-lidded as he admired the scene, as if he was experiencing bliss.

Dear gods, that’s how he looks at me.

Sensing her gaze on him, he turned to stare down at her—and sure enough, his expression didn’t change.

Dalit. Again that word entered her consciousness. Lightning. In quaint old Demonish, it also meant the bolt of desire one felt—before falling in love.

Could she leave behind her feelings for Caspion and allow new ones to grow for this gorgeous, patient, brave vampire?

Words tumbled from her lips: “What would you do if I died? If I was . . . murdered?”

His brows drew together. “I don’t want to speak of that.”

“You said you’d answer any question.”

His hand squeezed hers. “Avenge you.” He pinned her gaze with his own. “Follow you.”

Her lips parted in amazement just as sultry rain began to fall.





Trehan didn’t understand her sudden question, only knew that his answer had surprised her.

When she peered up at him, blinking against the drizzling rain, he sensed they were at the precipice of something and didn’t dare trace her away. Droplets shimmered over her braids like a sparkling veil, her eyes so luminous.

Her expression looked . . . lost, as if he’d done far more than admit a simple truth.

“Bettina? Why ask that—”

Two soft hands cupped his face, tugging him down. His lips met hers. Now I am lost. . . .

He looped an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his, groaning at the feel of her. Her skin was so warm, so slick beneath his hands. Their breaths mingled, the kiss deepening, rain now pouring; the night mirrored the intensity of what burned between them.

When he lifted her up against him, her slim arms closed around his neck, her long legs wrapping around his waist. He traced her to the furs, laying her down.

Between kisses, she said, “Are we about to go up to a point?”

“Almighty gods, we are!”

“Will you make me forget tomorrow?”

He drew back on his haunches. “I intend to. As long as we’re here in this place, tomorrow doesn’t factor. Just you, me, this storm.”

When he only gazed at her, she frowned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Bare yourself. Show me your pretty breasts as you did that first night.” This time, to me. Only to me.

She bit her bottom lip. “You think about that night a lot.”