Dark Desire After Dark

33

Cade shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, heart thundering.

He'd dreamed of the blustery night mere weeks ago when he'd killed the mortal Néomi. The night he'd ruined their chances with the vampire.

Cade took his dreams very seriously, and he'd had this one before. He must be feeling more guilt about this than he'd thought. Yes, the death had been an accident, but it had been caused by him—not by Rydstrom or even Rök, who'd both been there.

He shuddered, recalling the sickening feeling as his sword had sunk into her. Her pale face had looked as shocked as he felt. Blood had bubbled from her lips as she'd tried to scream.

When she'd slipped from his sword to the ground, Cade had caught his brother's gaze. Through the rain, Cade had seen that same look Rydstrom had given him nine hundred years ago—pity mingled with contempt….

Cade blinked down, surprised to find Holly in the bed with him, though she was on the outside of the cover, dressed in her robe and curled under a blanket. Her pink lips were parted, her lashes thick against her cheeks. Shining against the pillow was a riot of red-blond curls.

He leaned over and plucked up a strand, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. As he gazed down at her, memories from the night began to arise. He remembered how brave she'd been with the fire demons, and how she'd refused to leave him, instead managing to drive them out of danger.

She'd talked to him the entire way to this motel, seeming to know how much he'd needed to hear her voice. All night she'd cared for him.

Cade remembered being so damned proud of her, of the way she'd taken everything in stride, rising to the fore.

He'd also realized that what he felt for her was more than the pull of fate….

Releasing her hair, he eased from the bed, then he scuffed into the bathroom. He checked his face in the mirror. Healed.

Even after he'd finished showering and dressing, she still slept. She must be exhausted from the night.

He saw her laptop was open and on. She'd already researched their next direction, mapping it. Where would they be going…?

"Bugger all," he muttered. The Northwest Territories. Just under the Arctic Circle.

They would have to cross the border, then travel nearly the entire length of Canada while heading ever northward. She'd determined sixty-seven hours of driving time—if the weather was perfect.

As usual, her cell phone was lying parallel to the laptop. He frowned, vaguely recalling her voice lowered, as if in conversation. Had she made a call? He checked the log. Son of a— "Holly!" he bellowed.

She shot up in bed, shoving her curling hair from her face. "Whaa? I'm up!"

"You called the tosser last night?"

"You checked my phone?" she cried, scrambling to her feet. "How dare you!"

"Even after what I told you at the bridge?"

"I needed someone to talk to." When she saw he was about to crush her phone, she snatched it from him.

Wait… More memories emerged. She'd questioned him! Cade cast his mind back, trying to recall everything he'd told her. "Seems like you talked to me quite a bit! Interrogating me!"

"Now you know how it feels to be taken advantage of. Turnabout's fair play."

"It's hardly the same! You were drunk, while I was poisoned and burned."

"And drunk," she added.

"You called him even when I was hurt? While I was lying unconscious, you talked to him?"

"Yes, Cadeon, after I tirelessly saw to your healing, and then determined that you were going to be fine, I did make a call."

Cade's eyes widened. "To break up with him?"

"No! Just because you told me I'm your female doesn't make the corollary true. We still don't have a relationship."

"In other words, the square root of fuckall is fuckall."

"You don't want me to be with Tim, but you're not offering anything else."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You told me I'm your female, but you have no plans to ask me for any kind of commitment."

He ground his teeth. Because I can't! "Would you say yes if I did?" he asked, noting that he'd gone still, awaiting her answer.

"No, Cadeon," she finally said. "I wouldn't."

A fear skittered up his spine—something he'd considered, but dismissed. "Are you in love with that human?"

With an unflinching gaze, she said, "He's what I want."

They'd made the cab ride from the motel to the closest car dealership in stony silence.

Now, as a bemused salesman escorted them about the lot, they bickered over what to buy for the rest of the trip. She wanted a new, smaller SUV, and Cade wanted a used "gas-guzzling behemoth," as she put it. Though he'd calmly pointed out the various merits of his choice, she refused to see reason.

He kept his cool until she said, "But that manufacturer doesn't have environmentally conscious policies."

Enough. "Oh, like I give a shite! I just want to get a truck and get the hell out of here."

At that, the wide-eyed salesman excused himself.

Clearly grappling with her own temper, she said, "But a new one will be less likely to break down."

He shook his head. "Trucks today aren't made as well."

"I don't agree," she said. "And I think we'll be more comfortable and safer with the options offered in newer models."

"More options means more things that can break. Now, there's not a damn thing wrong with that white Bronco—"

"Oh, please," she snapped. "O.J. called, wants his car back."

"Were you even born in time to see that car chase? Or did you have to catch it on YouTube?"

"I saw it live. I was already twelve, cradle-robber! Now what's wrong with the little Range Rover?"

"The dealer might frown on me paying for an eighty-thousand-dollar car with cash. Besides, after you offed our seven-figure ride last night, you'd think your mind would be on economizing."

"You know whose car I offed last night? Not—mine. Is this the gratitude I get for saving your life? Don't count on me to come rescue you again. I'll let you fricassee the next time you're on fire!"

Cade's sat-phone rang then, like a ring-side bell. "I'm taking this call. Hey, I've got an idea. While I'm gone, why don't you try to see reason? If you can recognize it."

He stormed across the parking lot. "What?" he barked in answer.

"You sound like hell," Rök said.

"Any word on Rydstrom?"

"My spies in Tornin are almost certain he's being kept there."

Cade said, "And no one escapes from Tornin." The thought of that sent his foul mood plummeting.

It was time for Cade, the master of blocking out unwanted realities, to analyze some pretty grim fucking realities.

His brother: being used by an evil sorceress for impregnation.

His female: stubbornly clinging to her relationship with the fuckwit, and approximately two weeks away from hating Cade bitterly anyway.

Himself: in full-on identity crisis. The killer for hire with no conscience was finding that lies to Holly tasted like soot in his mouth. The big, bad mercenary was having nightmares about an accidental death….

"But I do have some news," Rök said. "You know that mortal you skewered?"

Speak of the devil. Cade scowled. "Néomi. What about her?"

"I just saw her singing karaoke at the Cat's Meow."

Cade's jaw slackened. "Singing?"

"Yeah. There were a few pitch problems in the beginning, but in the end she really worked it out—"

"Rök! Are you saying she survived?"

"Unless she has a twin…But my gut tells me that was the vampire's Bride I saw."

Rök's instincts had saved their lives more times than he could count. If this was true…

Néomi's male knew of another way to kill Omort—an alternative to the sword. If Cade could get his hands on that information, he wouldn't have to betray Holly.

"Why didn't you abduct the mortal? You know how valuable she is."

"She's quick. She seemed to have just…disappeared out from under us. But I'll find her again. I've got a good lead."

If they had Néomi, the vampire would do anything to get his Bride back, even divulge how to kill a sorcerer….

"Capture her at all costs, Rök."

"We're already on it. But you're still continuing on—in case we don't, right?"

He exhaled. "I am. I have to. But you will find her. Use any means necessary." Once they'd hung up, Cade gazed over at Holly, and his heart thundered in his chest.

Hope—a way out. A way to have everything he'd ever wanted.

He'd held himself back from her because he'd known he would be forced to hurt her worse than she'd ever been. But this development gave him the possibility of a future with her…

Yes, possibility. Before, anything between Cade and Holly had been doomed because there were so many epic obstacles: betrayals, ancient vows, dark lies, the wills of evil sorcerers.

Now, if the only thing between them was a fucking mathematician…?

And one she hadn't been able to say she loved.

This is as good as locked up. Cade would simply have to convince her why he was the better male for her.

He looked forward to it, he thought as he strode across the lot toward her. She caught sight of him and nibbled her lip, studying his expression. She'd worn her hair in that bun, but it was looser, pretty. She was so beautiful she made his chest ache.

In Cade's absence, the salesman had ventured back, but now looked nervous at his approach.

When Cade reached Holly, he swung her into his arms and kissed her.

"Cadeon!" she sputtered when he released her lips. But he kept her in his arms as he told the bewildered salesman, "We'll take whatever the missus wants. And quickly." Cade met her eyes. "We've got exactly four hundred and twenty miles to drive tonight before she'll be satisfied."