The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)(36)

She flailed wildly; her arms beat at the vampire uselessly. He deflected each blow with his free arm, but his eyes now locked on the pulse in her throat. My fury grew with every crimson drop that coursed down my arm. I lashed out with a blast of energy, causing her to cry out in pain. That wasn’t enough for me. With a growl emanating from me, I struggled to get in between them, punching at her with a tight fist. I wanted to tear her apart.

“Let me kill her,” I cried out, irrational in the surge of rage that swept me.

“No way. She’s mine.” Kale jerked the werewolf roughly so that she stumbled against him. Kale was in need of a fix, and it showed. His lips peeled back in a snarl, and he sunk fangs into the thrashing werewolf so hard that I felt it like a kick in the gut as I watched.

Blood poured from the wound as Kale opened the artery. The scent was suddenly heavy and thick all around us. As he drank in both blood and energy, the combination of physical power and hunger struck deep in me. Though I suffered the same weakness as Kale, our hungers were rooted in different places.

Watching him drain the werewolf to the point of death made me feel like I was spying on a personal moment, one that I shouldn’t be seeing. It was as intimate as if I’d been watching him have sex. I have seen Kale kill but never have I seen him feed.

Turning my back on Kale wasn’t something I wanted to do, but watching gave me the same sensation I got when I saw Arys kill: I liked it. I hated that I did, but there was no sense denying it. So, I didn’t move; I stood frozen, feeling like a naïve novice. Every time I thought I knew what world I was a part of, I was thrown for a loop.

It was impossible not to feel the powerful energy rolling off Kale as he feasted on the intoxicating wolf blood. It swept me up in its inviting glow.

The wolf in his grasp put up a pitiful struggle, but it didn’t take long for her strength to wane. She made a series of unintelligible sounds as if she was attempting to speak. It wasn’t long until she was silent and limp as Kale deposited her on the ground at his feet.

My eyes strayed to the punctures in her throat and the blood oozing from the wound.

When I met Kale's eyes, they weren’t crazed or monstrous. However, they were calculating and watchful. I couldn’t help but be affected by him as he crossed the short distance between us. In no way was I prepared for what he did.

Not for one moment did he pause or hesitate as he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. There was a strange look in his haunting eyes as he tipped my head up, forcing me to meet his eerie gaze. He kissed me with a depth that instantly transcended physical.

I was pleasantly surprised to find blood still in his mouth. I was also shocked at my own sudden eagerness.

His tongue sought my own, and the blood dripped from his mouth to mine. He was ablaze with energy that forced any doubt or reluctance from me. The mix of vampire and werewolf power inside me was intrigued, curious to know what Kale had to offer.

Even as I savored the way the blood scratched Arys’ itch inside me, I was drawn to Kale’s centuries old energy. It wasn’t the same with Arys. I had a bond with him that went to the root of our metaphysical makeup. Instead, I realized that I could feed on Kale’s power and use it as my own. I realized that my power viewed Kale as a source to feed from, which was empowering after the night in the Charger when he’d made me the victim. I was fully aware of him drawing on my power as well, but this was different because I had control.

I allowed myself to fall into the power and ride out the wave that held us in its thrall.

I tasted him with a selfish abandon that overruled my common sense. My wolf was pressing the surface of my control, and the desire to spill his blood won out.

I bit his tongue, just enough to get a taste of him. Kale’s blood was an intoxicating blend of rich, age-old power and time. Power that didn’t get exercised the way that it should. My body responded to him against my will as his deathly alluring darkness touched me in forbidden places.

He broke off the kiss and stepped back. I couldn’t prevent the gasp that came from me. I stared at him in awestruck wonder as I licked the blood from my lips. In light of what he’d told me earlier, I couldn’t decide which of us was the cause of this strange moment.

I searched Kale’s eyes for a sign of his reaction. He regarded me coolly, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. Tentatively, he reached a pale hand out to touch the bleeding gashes along my upper arm. I was afraid to speak and break the strange spell as I watched him then lick my blood from the tips of his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Kale spoke softly, a look of shame evident in his contrasting eyes. “We should go.”

Now that I’d tuned into Kale’s personal energy, I could really feel the sadness and sense of loss. I hadn’t been aware he carried it around so strongly. He was a very lost man. Kale needed to find himself. Something I felt I was still only beginning to do myself.

“Don’t be sorry,” I breathed, unable to make the words come out any stronger. I had to take a few deep breaths. “Don’t deny what you are, Kale. And, never apologize for it.”

“You make it sound so easy.” He eyed the pulse leaping hard in my throat, and I swallowed hard.

“It can be. It doesn’t have to be something you deny in order to maintain control.

You can’t ignore what you are or what you need.”

His eyes closed briefly, his dark lashes framing them beautifully. A pained expression crossed his face. “I have to ignore this need, so we have to leave before I do give in.”