A Hunger Like No Other

21

Lachlain sprinted for the railing to spy out the gallery below.

"Cassandra's arrived," Bowe murmured from behind him, stating the obvious, because Cassandra now had Emma pinned under her trying to strangle her. Lachlain shoved his hand to the railing to jump, but Bowe hauled him back.

"Doona fucking do this, Bowe. Cass hurts her and I'll have to kill her."

When he didn't let go, Lachlain swung a fist at Bowe—out of habit, his weaker left fist. Expecting it, Bowe caught it and wrenched his arm back. "Still feel guilty for that one punch when we were boys? Again—I eventually woke. Now, look and give your mate more credit."

Lachlain did, but at the same time he raised his other elbow to jab it back in Bowe's face.

Emma slammed her forehead against Cass's nose. Lachlain hesitated.

"Your Emmaline is no' even the least bit out of breath. And if she does no' do this now, she'll be constantly challenged. You forget, we're a vicious breed that worships strength," Bowe added the last in a sneer as if he was quoting someone.

"Damn it, it does no' matter, she's small. She's coming off injuries—"

"She's wily and someone's trained her," Bowe observed coolly, releasing Lachlain when Emma gained room beneath Cass, then kicked out with both feet so fast it was a blur. She connected solidly with Cass's chest, sending her across the room. Lachlain shook his head, disbelieving his eyes.

Bowe in the meantime had gotten a scotch and pulled up chairs.

Cass threw her hair out of her face. "You'll pay for that one, leech."

Emma gave her a bored look as she gracefully stood, but her eyes had fired silver. "Bring it on."

Bowe was right—she wasn't out of breath whatsoever.

Cass rose to the challenge. She leapt at Emma, tackling her with her larger size, then gave a sharp jab at Emma's mouth.

Lachlain roared with fury, vaulting over the rail. Before he could reach them, Emma slashed out her claws at Cass, wriggled out from under her, then leapt to her feet to fully swing the back of her hand.

Lachlain knew that hit.

Cass landed against the opposite wall, a tapestry collapsing over her. She didn't get up.

Bowen dropped down behind him, exhaled, and added, "The only thing that could've made that wrestling any better was Jell-O."

When Lachlain reached Emma, he took her by the shoulders, but she jerked in reaction and punched out at him, connecting with his right eye. He clenched his jaw, shook it off, and ran his gaze over her, examining her for injuries. He winced to see the cut marring her bottom lip and yanked out his shirttail to brush against it, but she hissed in a breath.

"That hurts you?"

Bowe helped Cass up and dragged her over.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Lachlain bellowed at Cass, then immediately turned to Emma and said, "I apologize."

She frowned at him. "So put a quarter in the cuss jar. Whatever." She pressed the back of her hand against her still bleeding lip.

"Lachlain, you're alive!" Cass cried, running for him. The look he gave her made her slow, expression confused, then stop completely.

"What happened to you?" she asked. "And who is this vampire that has free run of Kinevane?"

Emma looked from Cass up to Lachlain as if she couldn't wait to hear this one.

"She's to be treated as an honored guest."

While Cass gaped, Bowe turned to Emma and said, "I am Bowen, an old friend of Lachlain's. I've spent the afternoon hearing all about you. Pleased to meet you."

While Emma tilted her head at him, wary, Cassandra finally managed, "And when did leeches become guests?"

Lachlain grabbed her elbow. "Doona ever call her that again."

At the insult, Emma's eyes turned silver once more. As she turned on her heel for the door, Lachlain heard her mumble in an odd voice, "Screw you guys…I'm going home."

With a last glare at Cass, he followed, in time to see Emma catch her own reflection in a mirror.

She jumped back, startled.

Her hair was wild and the silver in her eyes glittered and moved like mercury. Blood streamed down her chin, and her fangs, though small, looked wickedly sharp. One tear drop had streaked down her temple, leaving a line behind. He saw her pat her face as if she couldn't believe her reflection. Then she gave a short, bitter laugh. Their eyes met.

He knew what she was thinking. And it saddened him, even as he knew it helped his cause.

She was thinking she was just as much a monster as he was.

"This is no' finished, vampire," Cass said.

Emma shot around with an expression so menacing it gave him chills. "Not in any way," she hissed, and stalked off.

It took Lachlain a moment to form words. "Bowe, take care of this," he said without taking his eyes from Emma.

"Aye, but you need to tell her," he called after. "Now."

Emma looked creepy.

As she stared into the mirror in her bathroom, washing her hands and face, she noted that though her fangs had receded, her eyes wouldn't return to their usual color and her lips were redder than usual.

Creepy. Just like the thing that had faced her in the mirror downstairs, the thing that was straight from a creature feature. When she'd patted her face, she'd found blood on her nails from where she'd swiped the Lykae across the belly.

Red of tooth and claw? I'm your girl…

She recalled Lachlain in his changed form, and didn't shudder at the image as she usually did. Because wasn't it all relative?

A knock on the door. She'd known he would come after her, but she'd hoped he would at least take time to explain things to the other two. Apparently, he'd dissed them to come right after her.

Still…"Go away!"

"I ken you want your privacy, but—"

"Go—away! I don't want you to see me like this—"

And just like that, the door burst open.

She quickly closed her eyes. "What did I just say?"

"Wanting your privacy is one thing, but hiding your face from me will no' do, Emma." He turned her to him.

She was mortified even more because he knew she was. Her aunts' eyes turned this way, but it looked so normal in them, expected even with sharp emotion.

"Open your eyes."

When she wouldn't, he said, "This is no' the first time I've seen them like this."

That got her to open them. Wide. "What do you mean?" She could tell by the way he stared that they were still that freaky color. "Look at you staring! This is what I wanted to avoid. When have you ever seen them like this?"

"They turn when you drink from me. I'm staring now because if your eyes even flicker silver, I want you."

"I don't believe—"

He placed her hand on his rigid erection.

The memory from the night in the hotel bloomed in her mind, and her fingers curled around it, about to stroke… The memory—the confusing memory from his point of view. She wrested her hand away.

"But my eyes are weird," she insisted, unable to face him. "And I can't control it."

"I find them beautiful."

Damn it! Why did he have to be so damn accepting? "Well, I didn't find your change as appealing then."

"I know. I can live with that if you can."

"Great. Not only do you seem to have gotten past your prejudice with me, now you're accepting that I don't accept you. Are you trying to make me feel like an ass?"

"Never. I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened."

"I am, too." Yes, she might have just spanked that Lykae, but it didn't mean she liked that she had to. And she didn't necessarily blame Cassandra for attacking. If Emma had seen a vampire strolling about the manor, admiring paintings, she'd have attacked, too. That did not negate the fact that this Cassandra was still a bitch.

Emma was shaken by the incident. All the training her aunts had forced on her seemed to have rushed to the forefront, finally clicking into place, and she'd felt like a different person. She'd actually won! Against a freaking Lykae!

Yet even as she felt like Frau Badass, she didn't forget the first staggering thought that had entered her mind when she'd suddenly hit the stone floor and found the Lykae standing over her.

Emma had wanted Lachlain.

And knew he would always come to her rescue.

He tucked a curl behind her ear. "Ach, you've cut your wee ear." He leaned down and kissed it, making her shiver. "And your lip." He kissed that as well, then stroked her cheekbone, and she couldn't quite feel the urgency she'd had that he shouldn't be touching her. "I canna forgive her for marking you."

"Fine by me," she said in a surly tone.

"You had no fear down there," he said, sounding impressed, and Emma had to admit that the next best thing to having Lachlain nuzzle her and kiss her wounds was him acting as if she'd just fought off Armageddon.

"What has changed you? Is it my blood?"

Record-needle scratch back to reality. The nerve! "Don't flatter yourself! I've just realized a lot about myself. You know, having survived continuous Lykae attacks"—he flinched at that—"a sunbath, and a dissection via vampire, I've had to ask, 'Is that it? Really. Is that all life has to throw at me?' Because if that's the worst and I keep bouncing back…"

"Aye, I see. Your trials are making you stronger."

They were. Damn it, why did he have to look so proud of that fact? When had he begun acting so differently toward her? She knew why she'd changed, but why had he? If he kept looking at her like this, she'd start wondering if she was strong enough to handle him.

"You woke well before sunset? I was just coming for you when we heard Cass."

Emma had been up with plenty of time to shower—and to rant about the weird pang she'd felt to find that, for the first time, Lachlain wasn't there when she woke. "I don't sleep well—in that bed."

"Is that why I found you in the stairwell?"

Emma blushed. Dark and cloistered and cavelike, the stairwell had seemed like a good idea at the time. Since she'd been insane. "Who's the woman?" she asked to change the subject, though she knew, had known at first sight.

"Cassandra. She's a friend from the clan."

"Only a friend?"

"O' course. And that is tenuous, after she hurt you."

"You'd take my side over hers? When you've known me for so short a time?"

He caught her gaze. "I will always take your side. Over anyone's."

"Why?"

"Because I know you will be in the right."

"And the bleak one? Bowen? What's his damage?" At Lachlain's frown, she added, "Why does he look so bad?" With his jet-black hair and intense golden eyes, the guy would be a hottie—if he weren't heroin-addict gaunt and evil-looking.

"He lost someone verra close to him."

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "When did it happen?"

"Early eighteen hundreds."

"And he still hasn't recovered?"

"He's gotten worse." Lachlain rested his forehead against hers. "It's our nature, Emma." She knew he was waiting for something from her. Something more.

He'd seen her in her worst state, and he still wanted her. Seeing her like that hadn't stopped him from following her directly to kiss her ear and commiserate. This gorgeous, walking fantasy of a male wanted something more. From her. Was she ready to give it? She felt bold and high from her first victory, but was she ready to brave taking Lachlain into her body and to risk seeing the beast rise inside him again?

Right at this moment, she thought she might be.

"Lachlain, if someone like you were to…to make love to someone like me, could he be easy with her? Take things slowly?"

His body shot tight with tension. "Aye, he could vow it."

"He wouldn't…he wouldn't turn?"

"No, Emma. No' tonight," he said, his voice so low and rumbling it made her shiver, made her nipples go tight. She needed him—desired him—knowing fully what he was.

When she raised her fingers and gently brushed the backs over his face, he gave her a disbelieving look before his lids closed briefly with pleasure. "Lachlain," she murmured, "I struck you."

His expression was unreadable. "So you did."

"Aren't you going to…retaliate?"

He groaned, and as he took her mouth, he lifted her onto the counter and pressed himself between her legs. His hands palmed her backside and yanked her against his unyielding hardness.

When she gasped, he touched his tongue to hers and she met him, wanting him to take her mouth deeply, to kiss her as he had that first night in the hotel. But it was better than even that. He was aggressive but masterful. He made her melt for him, undulating her hips up to his erection, seeking more.

He growled low, then rasped against her lips, "I canna stand to see you hurt. I will no' let you be hurt again."

She leaned forward, now kissing him, twining her hands in his thick hair. Her legs had wrapped themselves around him as he squeezed her backside, grinding her against him.

She attempted his buttons with tremulous fingers and made a sound of frustration. Instantly, he ripped off the shirt, and she wanted to thank him for displaying the muscles flexing and tensing beneath her palms. Aroused even more, shameless with it, she glided her hand down past the waist of his pants to grasp him.

He put his head back and yelled out, then snatched her sweater and bra up just above her breasts. He nuzzled her nipples, his breath hot against them, then suckled them until she thought she'd die with pleasure.

Screw the future and commitments and fears and whatever else. "I want you," she said on a breath, thumbing the moist head of his penis. When he took her nipple between his teeth and growled against it, she cried in response, "All of you."

He groaned against her damp breast, then rose up to face her with an incredulous expression. "You canna know how much hearing that pleases me."

With her free hand, she unzipped her pants. He reached down to pluck off her boots, then snagged the ends of her jeans and tore them from her with one movement.

Then he went back to kissing her as if he knew she would lose her nerve, making her arch her back to him as she ran her hand along his impossibly large shaft. Shuddering, he lifted her legs to place her feet flat on the counter. Spreading her knees wide, he pulled aside her panties, groaning at the sight of her bared flesh.

For some reason she wasn't embarrassed as he stared, his eyes dark and hungry. In fact, his gaze made her tremble, made her wetter.

"How long I've waited." His voice was husky. "Canna believe it," he said, before taking her mouth so thoroughly, she was left panting and stunned.

He sucked one nipple, then the other between his lips to tongue them. Her hand squeezed his shaft, and her shaking intensified as her body throbbed for release. Why wasn't he touching her? Thrusting inside her? Why had she ever said to take this slow?

She was close, she felt it, on the verge of finally knowing the pleasure she'd never experienced, had only imagined.

Did he want her to ask as he had in the shower? She was no longer above it… "Please touch me here," she begged as her knees fell open in surrender. "Touch me. Kiss me. Whatever you want to do…"

He groaned. "I'm going tae do it all," he bit out. "I'll make this good for you…"

She gave a sharp cry when his fingers gently caressed her sex.

"So wet," he rasped. "You feel like silk." Fingers up and down slowly, leaving her flesh trembling in their wake, coaxing her even wetter. Then one dipped fully inside her, giving her no quarter as he had before, forcing her body to accept it, pressing her back into the mirror. Nothing could feel that good. She moaned in bliss, running her fist up and down his rigid erection.

"Why did you never make love before?" he rumbled in her ear, then hissed in a breath when she cupped his heavy sack.

He knew? Could he feel? "There's no one…For what I am, there was no one who…" She struggled for a word that meant no one my family wouldn't kill. "No one—"

"Who was no' disqualified from the competition." His lips curled. Wicked grin. Wicked Lykae. With his slow, hot touch.

"Uh-huh."

"Then it's good we found each other." He grasped her neck, holding her to face him. With his other hand, he thrust his finger and stroked his thumb over her clitoris. She was glad he held the back of her neck or her head would've lolled. "Look at me."

Her eyes fluttered open.

"You're mine, Emma," he grated between ragged breaths. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

Another thrust. Her hips lifted to meet it this time, and she ground into his hand, needing release, needing him deeper.

"Do you understand me? Always."

Her brows drew together. "You have someone else—"

"It's you, Emma. It's always been you."

His words were like a promise, like a…vow. She whispered inanely, "Not Australian for buddy?"

He shook his head slowly, his thumb stroking her, making it difficult to comprehend what he was telling her.

"B-but you said…" Why'd he have to tell her this now, while he made unhurried, perfect circles with his thumb? She vaguely understood what he was saying, and still she wanted his fingers playing, wanted him full and thick inside her. "You…you lied to me?"

He hesitated, then said, "Aye, I lied to you."

She groaned with frustration. Damn it, so close! "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because we begin this tonight. With the truth between us."

"Begin this?" she asked in a bewildered tone. "What do you mean? Like our lives together or something?"

When he didn't disagree, she tensed. Lives together. For a Lykae, that meant forever, and forever for an immortal was literal. She scrambled away from him, pulling her panties back, and curled her legs under her. "You never intended to let me go." She worked her shirt and bra down, shivering when the material covered her nipples.

"No, I dinna. I had to keep you with me. And I'd planned to entice you to stay by then."

She repeated dumbly, "Had to keep me with you?" Her unfulfilled desire was making her body feel wrong, burning out of her control.

"In all the years that have passed, I have waited for the one woman who was meant to be mine alone. You are that woman."

"Are you still crazy?" she snapped, angered that her body felt bereft of him. "I'm not that woman. I'm just not."

"You will realize soon enough that you were given to me above all others. You'll understand that I've searched relentlessly for you in every age that I have lived." His voice went low and gravelly. "And, Emma, I've lived and I have searched a verra long time."

"I'm a vam"—she patted her chest—"pire. Vampire. You've forgotten that."

"It stunned me as well. I dinna accept it at first."

"No kidding? I never would have known! What if you were correct then? You could be wrong now," she said desperately. "How can you be sure?"

He leaned over her. "I scented you from…afar, and it was beautiful and eased my mind. I saw your eyes for the first time, and I recognized you. I tasted your flesh, and"—he shuddered violently above her and his voice went guttural—"there is no way to describe it. But I can show you if you let me."

"I can't do this," she said, trying to dislodge herself from her pinned position, disgusted that when he'd shuddered, she'd gone soft for him once more.

Dawning horror. Her suspicion that she'd harbored and resisted was true. How could she have been so stupid—She stopped herself. No, the idea had been easy to discount because how could she, a half-creature who was part vampire, be a Lykae's mate? A vampire and a Lykae bound together?

And then there had been his convincing, ego-crushing lie…

"So what had you planned to do with me?" She feinted right, then ducked left out from under his arms, snaring her jeans. She knew he'd allowed her to get away and faced him, shaking with anger. "Really planned? Am I to, say, live with your pack? The one you were quick to point out will rip me to bits?"

"No one will ever hurt you again, from my clan or outside of it. But you will no' live among them, because I am their king, and our home is here at Kinevane."

"Wow, I landed European royalty! Somebody call People!" She stormed from the bathroom, then wriggled into her pants.

What she wouldn't give to be able to trace, to disappear her ass out of this castle. She hated being lied to. Since she could never lie back.

Mimicking his accent, she said, " 'Ye're no' my mate, Emmaline. Nothing so serious as my one mate, but I would no' mind keepin' ye for my mistress. I want ye, but no' for that.' How condescending you were!"

He followed, gripping her arm and forcing her to face him. "I regretted having to lie, but what's done is done. I want you to at least listen to what I have to say."

"And I want to go home and see my family." And get her mind straight and ask them, Why do I dream his memories? Why am I always overwhelmed and confused, like someone put a chaos spell on my life?

"Will you no' even consider that this could be true? You would leave me, even knowing what we could have?"

She frowned as a sudden thought occurred. "You said 'every age that I have lived.' So how old are you? Six hundred? Seven hundred years?"

"Does that matter?"

She shook his hand free. "How—old?"

"Roughly twelve hundred years."

She gasped. "Do you know what 'robbing the cradle' means? I am almost seventy-one. This skeeves me out!"

"I knew it would be difficult to accept, but you'll come to see it in time."

"Come to see what? That I want to live in a foreign country away from my family and friends in order to stay with the dishonest, unbalanced Lykae who keeps lying to me?"

"I will never lie to you again, but your place is with me. Here."

"Here. In northern Scotland. And we're coming up on summer. Gee, Lach, how long are the days in the summer way up here?"

"I've thought about that. We'll go to wherever you can be comfortable in the summer. And the nights are longer in the winter. Do you think I would no' take you where I could have more hours with you?"

"You've got it all figured out. You're going to make me say 'I do' whether I do or don't."

"I do?" He frowned. "As in marriage? This is much more serious than marriage."

"That's about as serious—"

"Marriages can end."

Her lips parted. "Well, that certainly puts it into perspective. No way out for eternity. Did it ever occur to you that I might like to take one day at a time? I'm young, and this is everything. You're asking me for—no, you're demanding—everything, and I've only known you a week. You may have this cosmic certainty about me, but I don't have the same about you."

"If I asked you, would that make a difference? Will you stay with me?"

"No, I won't. But I'm not saying we would never see each other again. I'll go home and we'll take things slowly, get to know one another."

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were full of pain. Then his face hardened. "I canna allow that. You'll remain here until you can answer that question differently."

"You would separate me from my family?"

He seized her arm, hard. "You have no idea how ruthless I will be to keep you, Emma. I'd do that and more. I will do whatever it takes."

"You'll never hold me prisoner here."

For some reason, that clearly angered him more than the rest. His body tensed and his eyes flickered blue. "No, I canna. You're free to go. But you doona get a car. You doona get to direct someone here to pick you up. We're a hundred miles from the nearest town, which is inhabited almost solely by the clan, so walking out of here is no' recommended."

At the door, he turned back. "I canna keep you a prisoner here. But the sun can."