Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(94)

But even as worry for him besieged her, she recognized that she wasn’t yet ready to surrender completely to him.

And he did want her to surrender. Tell me you’ll let me do anything to you. Tell me you’re mine—

Finally she remembered why those words were so important to him! She’d said them the first night she’d been with Daciano, when she’d been so drunk.

When she’d believed he was Caspion.

The vampire wanted her to say such things and mean him.

How maddening it must be for him to know how she had felt about Cas.

Wait, had felt . . . ? I’m so confused.

And in the midst of her confusion, she wanted to be with one person, to talk to one person—Daciano.

She would never get to speak to him again if he lost. Three-hundred-and-fifty-to-one odds say he’s about to.

Unacceptable. He was most likely already in the sanctum. I’ll go to him there.

Salem had left, Cas was mad at her, and Raum’s guards would balk at escorting her down into the bowels of the ring. Could she manage to get there by herself?

Last night, the idea of walking those twenty-five feet had struck her as ridiculous. Then . . . possible.

Then . . . achieved.

Drawing on her cloak, she wended through the castle. At the exit, she hesitated to cross the threshold.

Never to hear Daciano’s steely voice again? Never to feel his strong arms around her? She peered up at the sky, stunned by her thoughts.

The mouse would rather risk the hawk.





Trehan scented Bettina’s light perfume an instant before he heard her racing heart. He spied her hastening down the darkened catacomb toward him, looking far too fragile and bright to be in this foul, dank place. As she neared, rats and kobolds scurried.

“Bett? What are you doing down here?” He put his hands on her shoulders, felt her shaking beneath his palms. “Where’s your escort?”

Would she be too preoccupied to notice he had no sword belt around his waist? That his unusual weapon lay across a nearby bench?

“Don’t have an escort. Needed to see you,” she said in a rush. “To tell you not to die tonight.”

“You came by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“My brave girl!” He took her in his arms and spun her around, before setting her on her feet. “My chest swells with pride, drag? mea.”

But she didn’t share his happiness. She clasped his face and drew him down for a kiss. His mouth met hers.

Her lips were trembling—her kiss . . . fierce.

He’d always considered kisses a prelude to sex. This was different. She was telling him how she felt, and he wanted to respond in kind. He cradled the back of her head as he took her mouth with all the feeling inside him, holding nothing back.

She met him stroke for stroke, softening against him, sagging . . . until she finally drew back with a cry. “Vampire?”

“Bettina,” he rasped, straightening her little mask, “that was a gallows kiss.”

Her eyes went wide. “I . . . I’m sorry. You need to be concentrating. I should never have come here.” She glanced away, frowning at the long sheath lying on a bench.

He pinched her chin, drawing her attention back to him. “You admitted to me that you care about my well being. Is that the extent of your feelings?”

“I-I . . .”

“You believe I’ll die in minutes. Come, Bett. Take pity on me and lie.”

“You’re manipulating me again!”

“Yes.”

She groaned. “How can I stay mad at you when you agree with me like that?” She smoothed her palms over his chest. “Very well. I’ve grown to . . . well, it’s like this—”

Goürlav stirred deeper in the bowels of the sanctum, roaring his readiness.

Damn it! “You need to go at once.” Trehan traced her to the exit. “I can’t take you from here, but you have to leave.”

“I’ll be fine.” Her voice was sad, yet she seemed to force herself to smile. “I . . . I’ll see you soon?”

Trehan wanted to tell her that she would, to reassure her—but even that unfounded optimism burned in his throat like a lie. So he said nothing, just stood trapped in the sanctum, watching her walk away from him.

While everything inside him screamed for him to follow.



Moments after she’d left Daciano, Bettina saw Cas, hanging out with his rowdy group of demons. Was he still angry with her after last night? He spotted her then. Would he even acknowledge her?

At once, he traced to her side, leaving his cohorts behind. “You’re by yourself, Tina? Strolling around?”

“I, uh, had something to do.”

“Then you’re getting better. I knew you just needed to see those Vrekeners dead.” Regret tinged his expression. “I wish I could have given that to you.”

And Daciano wishes he could have been there for me after the attack. Bettina had needed both of them in different ways.

“Can I walk you to the ring?” he asked. “Or do you want to remain alone?”

“I’ve managed enough for one day. Go with me?”

They fell into step together, meandering through the town, like they had as children. But so much had changed since then. Instead of companionable silence, tension stretched between them. What was he thinking?