Lover Unleashed

THIRTY-NINE

Traveling south on “the Northway,” as Manuel called it, Payne’s eyes were starved for the world around her. Everything was a source of fascination, from the streaming lines of traffic on either side of the road, to the vast black heavens above, to the bracing night chill that rushed into the car’s cockpit every time she opened her window.

Which was about every five minutes. She just loved the change in temperature—warm to cool, warm to cool. . . . It was so totally unlike the Sanctuary, where everything was monoclimatic. Plus there was the great blast of air that blew into her face and tangled her hair and made her laugh.

And then, of course, every time she did it, she looked over at Manuel and found that he was smiling.

“You haven’t asked where we’re going,” he said, after her most recent shutting.

In truth, it did not matter. She was with him and they were free and alone and that was more than enough—

You scrub him. At the end of the night, you scrub him and come back here. Alone.

Payne kept her wince to herself: Wrath, son of Wrath, had the kind of voice that went with the likes of thrones and crowns and black daggers hung about the chest. And the royal tone ’twas not window dressing. He expected to be obeyed, and Payne was under no misapprehension that just because she was the Scribe Virgin’s daughter, somehow she was not subject to his rule. As long as she was down here, this was his world and she was in it.

Whilst the king had uttered those awful words, she had squeezed her eyes shut, and upon the silence that had reigned thereafter, promptly realized that she and Manuel would be going nowhere unless she avowed.

And so . . . she had.

“Would you like to know? Hello? Payne?”

With a start, she forced a smile to her face. “I would prefer to be surprised.”

Now he grinned deeply. “Even more fun—well, as I said, I want to introduce you to someone.” His smile faded a little. “I think you might like her.”

Her? As in a female?

Like?

Verily, that would happen only if the “she” in question had a horse face and a big butt, Payne thought.

“How lovely,” she said.

“Here’s our exit.” There was a soft click-click-click and then Manuel turned the wheel and drew them off the larger road onto a declining ramp.

As they stopped in a line of other vehicles, she saw off on the far, far horizon a huge city, the likes of which her eyes struggled to comprehend: Great buildings marked with an incalculable number of pinhole lights rose up from a ground cover of smaller structures, and it was not a static place. Red and white lights snaked in and around its edges . . . no doubt hundreds of cars on roads similar to the one they had just traveled upon.

“You’re looking at New York City,” Manny said.

“It’s . . . beautiful.”

He laughed a little. “Parts of it certainly are. And darkness and distance are great makeup artists.”

Payne reached out and touched the clear glass window in front of her. “Where I tarried in the above, there were no long vistas. No grandeur. Nothing but the oppressive milky sky and the choking boundary of forest. This is all so wondrous—”

A harsh sound rang out behind them, and then another.

Manny glared into the small mirror o’erhead. “Relax, buddy. I’m going . . .”

As he accelerated, quickly closing the distance to the next car ahead, she felt badly that she had distracted him.

“I am sorry,” she murmured. “I do not mean to go on.”

“You can talk forever and I’ll listen quite happily.”

Well, wasn’t that good to know. “I am not unfamiliar with some of the things I witness here, but for the most part this is all a revelation. The seeing bowls we have on the Other Side offer but snapshots of what transpires upon the Earth, focusing on people, not objects—unless such an inanimate is part of someone’s fate. Indeed, we are provided only destiny, not progress . . . life, not landscape. This is . . . everything I wanted to become free for.”

“How did you get out?” Which time? she thought. “Well, in the first instance . . . I realized that when my mother granted audiences to people from down below, there was a small window whereby the barrier between the two worlds was . . . a kind of mesh. I discovered that I could move my molecules through the tiny spaces that were created—and that was how I did it.” The past drew her in, memories flaring to life and burning not just in her mind, but her soul. “My mother was furious and came forth unto me, demanding that I return to the Sanctuary—and I told her no. I was on a mission and not even she could derail me.” Payne shook her head. “After I . . . did what I had to . . . I thought I would just live my life, but there were things I did not anticipate. Down here, I need to feed and . . . there are other concerns.”

Her needing, specifically—although she wasn’t going to explain the way her fertile time had hit and crippled her. It had been such a shock. Up above, the Scribe Virgin’s females were ready to conceive nearly all of the time, and thus the great swings of hormones did not o’ertake their bodies. Once they came down below, however, and spent more than a day or so thus, the cycle came upon them. Thank fate it was only once a decade—although Payne had wrongly assumed she’d have ten years until she had to worry about it.

Unfortunately, it had turned out that that was ten years after the cycle first initiated itself: Her needing had started up no more than a month after she’d been out of the Sanctuary.

As she remembered the great pains to mate that had left her defenseless and desperate, she focused on Manuel’s face. Would he service her in her time of needing? Take care of her violent cravings and ease her with the release of his sex? Could a human even do that?

“But you ended up back there again?” he said.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I did. I had some . . . difficulty and my mother came unto me anew.” Verily, the Scribe Virgin had been terrified that rutting males would set upon her only daughter—who had already “ruined” so much of the life that she had been given. “She told me that she would aid me, although only on the Other Side. I agreed to go with her, thinking that it would be as before—and I could once again find the way out. That was not what transpired, however.”

Manny’s hand covered her own. “You’re out of all that now, though.”

Was she? The Blind King was seeking to rule her destiny just as her mother had. His reasons were less selfish, granted—after all, he had the Brotherhood and their shellans and a young living under his roof and that was a lot worthy of protecting. Except she feared her brother’s view of humans was shared by Wrath: namely that they were but lessers waiting to be called into service.

“You know what?” she said.

“What.”

“I think I could stay in this automobile with you forever.”

“Funny . . . I feel the exact same way.”

More click-click-clicking and then they took a right.

As they went along, there were fewer cars and more buildings, and she saw what he meant about night improving a city’s visage; there was no grandeur to be had in this neighborhood. Broken windows were blackened out like missing teeth, and the grime that faded down the flanks of the warehouses and stores were age lines. Pockmarks made by rot or accident or vandalism marred what once had no doubt been smooth facades and bright, fresh paint jobs had faded, the bloom of youth long lost to the elements and to time’s passage.

And indeed, the humans who were propped up in the shadows were in no better condition. Wearing wrinkled clothes in the colors of pavement and asphalt, they appeared to be weighted down from above, as if an invisible bar had forced them all to their knees—and was going to keep them there.

“Don’t worry,” Manuel said. “The doors are locked.”

“I am not afraid. I am . . . saddened, for some reason.”

“Urban poverty will do that to you.”

They went by yet another rotting, barely roofed box attended by two humans sharing a single coat. She never thought she would find any value in the Sanctuary’s oppressive perfection. But mayhap her mother had created the haven to protect the Chosen against sights like this. Lives . . . like those.

The environs soon improved slightly, however. And shortly thereafter, Manuel pulled off the road into a lot that ran parallel to a sprawling, new facility that appeared to cover a great plot of land. All around, lights on towering, craned arms cast peachy illumination upon the low-slung building and the shiny tops of the two vehicles that were parked and the clipped shrubs that bordered the walkways.

“Here we are,” he said, stopping their ride and turning to her. “I’m going to introduce you as a colleague, okay? Just roll with it.”

She grinned. “I shall endeavor to do that.”

They got out together and . . . oh, the air. Such a complex bouquet of good and bad, of metallic and sweet, of dirty and divine.

“I love this,” she said. “I love this!”

She put her arms out and swung herself in a circle, pivoting on a foot that had been booted just prior to their leaving the compound. As she halted her spin and her arms came to rest at her sides, she found him staring at her and had to laugh in embarrassment.

“I am sorry. I—”

“Come here,” he growled, his eyelids dropping low, his stare hot and possessive.

Instantly, her sex was aroused, her body flushing. And somehow, she knew to take her time as she approached him, knew to draw it out and make him wait, even if it wasn’t for long.

“You want me,” she drawled when they were face-to-face.

“Yeah. Hell, yeah.” His hands grabbed her waist and pulled her in tight. “Gimme your mouth.”

As she did just that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and melded into his solid body. The kiss had ownership all over it, on both sides, and when it ended, she could not stop smiling.

“I like it when you demand of me,” she said. “It takes me back to the shower, when you were—”

He let out a groan and cut her off, putting his hand gently over her mouth. “Yeah, I remember. Trust me—I remember.”

Payne gave his palm a lick. “You will do that to me again. Tonight.”

“I should be so lucky.”

“You shall be. And so shall I.”

He laughed a little. “You know what? I’m going to need to put one of my coats on.”

Manuel reopened his door and leaned into the car. When he reemerged, he drew on a pressed white jacket that had his name in cursive by the lapel. And she knew by the way he closed the two halves that he was trying to cover up his body’s response to her.

Pity. She liked to see him in that condition, all proud and hard.

“Come on—let’s go inside,” he said, taking her hand. And then under his breath, he seemed to add, “Before I come inside . . .”

As he didn’t finish the sentence, Payne left her smile right where it was, front and center on her face.

Upon closer examination, the facility seemed to be fortified for a siege, with discreet bars on its windows and a tall fencing stretching far down into the distance. The doors they approached were also barred, and Manuel didn’t test their handles.

Logical to secure the building, she thought. Given what the greater part of town had looked like.

Manuel pushed a button and immediately a tinny little voice said, “Tricounty Equine Hospital.”

“Dr. Manuel Manello.” He turned his head toward a camera. “I’m here to see—”

“Hey, Doc. Come right in.”

There was a buzz and then Manuel held the door open for her. “After you, bambina.”

The interior they walked into was sparse and very clean, with a smooth stone floor and rows of seating, as if people spent much time tarrying in this front room. On the walls, pictures of horses and cattle were framed, many of the animals with ribbons of red and blue hanging from their halters. Over across the way, there was a glass panel with the word RECEPTION embossed upon it in formal gold letters, and there were doors . . . so many doors. Those with a male symbol and a female symbol . . . those with signs such as VETERINARY DIRECTOR . . . and FINANCE . . . and STAFF MANAGER.

“Whatever is this place?” she asked.

“A lifesaver. Come on—we go this way.”

He pushed their way through a pair of double doors and went over to a uniformed human male who was seated behind a desk.

“Hey, Dr. Manello.” The man put down a newspaper that had New York Post in big letters across the top. “We haven’t seen you for a little bit.”

“This is a colleague of mine, Pa—Pamela. We’re just going to see my girl.”

The human man focused on Payne’s face. And then seemed to shake himself. “Ah . . . she’s where you left her. Doc spent a lot of time with her today.”

“Yeah. He called.” Manuel knocked the desktop with his knuckles. “See you in a few.”

“Sure thing, Doc. Nice to meet you . . . Pamela.”

Payne inclined her head. “It is lovely to meet with you as well.”

There was an awkward silence as she straightened. The human man was absolutely struck by her, his mouth slightly parted, his eyes wide . . . and very appreciative.

“Easy there, big guy,” Manuel said darkly. “You can resume blinking at any time . . . like, as in, now. Really. Truly.”

Manuel put himself in between the two of them, and took her hand at the same time, both blocking the view and establishing dominion over her. And that wasn’t all: Dark spices wafted up from him, the scent a warning to the other man that the female being admired was available only over Manuel’s cold, dead body.

And didn’t that make her feel like there was a blazing sun in the center of her chest.

“Come on, Pay—Pamela.” As Manuel tugged at her and the pair of them started walking, he added in a mutter, “Before John-boy’s jaw drops off his face and lands on the sports section.”

Payne skipped once. And then did it again.

Manuel looked over. “That poor guard back there almost has a near-death experience with his badge being shoved down his throat and you’re happy?”

Payne kissed Manuel’s cheek quickly, seeing behind the faux grim on his handsome face. “You like me.”

Manuel rolled his eyes and pulled her over by the neck, returning the kiss. “Duh.”

“Duh,” she mimicked—

Someone tripped over someone’s foot, hard to say who it was, and Manuel was the one who caught them from falling.

“We’d better pay attention,” her male said. “Before we’re the ones who need resuscitating.”

She elbowed him. “A wise extrapolation.”

“Are you smacking my ass.”

Payne glanced over his shoulder. And then slapped his butt—hard. As he yelped, she winked at him. “Indeed. Verily. I am.” Dropping her lids and her voice, she hammed, “Would you like me to do it again, Manuel. Perhaps . . . on the other side?”

As she joggled her eyebrows at him, the sound of his laughter broke out and filled the empty hallway, ringing far and wide. And when they bumped into each other again, he pulled her to a stop.

“Wait, we need to do this better.” He tucked her under his arm, kissed her forehead, and lined himself up with her. “On three, lead with the right. Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

On cue, they both stretched out their long right legs, and then it was left . . . and right . . . and left . . .

Perfectly in step.

Side by side.

They went down the corridor. Together.

It had never dawned on Manny that his sexy vampire might have a sense of humor. And didn’t that round out her package perfectly.

Ah, hell, it wasn’t just that. It was her wonder and her joy and the sense that she was up for anything. She was absolutely nothing like those fragile, brittle socialites or the pretzel-thin models he’d dated.

“Payne?”

“Yes?”

“If I told you I wanted to climb a mountain tonight—”

“Oh! I would love to! I should love to see a long view from . . .”

Bingo. Although, God, he had to wonder at the cruelty of finally finding his perfect match . . . in someone so fundamentally incompatible.

When they came up to the second set of double doors that led into the clinical part of the horse-pital, he pushed one half wide, and without missing a beat, they turned sideways and shuffled through . . . and that was when it happened.

That was when he fell completely in love with her.

It was her happy chatter, and the bounce in her step, and the icy eyes that shone like crystal. It was the backstory she’d shared and the dignity she showed and the fact that she’d been judged against a standard he’d used to date—and now wouldn’t be able to bear sitting across a dinner table from. It was the power in her body and the sharpness of her mind and—

Christ . . . he hadn’t even thought about the sex.

Ironic. She’d given him the orgasms of his life and they hadn’t even made the top of his I Love You Because list.

He guessed she was just that kind of spectacular.

“Whatever are you smiling for, Manuel,” Payne said. “Perhaps anticipating some future instance of my hand upon your derriere?”

“Yup. That’s exactly it.”

He pulled her in for another kiss—and tried to ignore the pain in his chest: No need to spoil the time they had with the good-bye that was waiting for them. That was going to come soon enough.

Besides, they’d nearly reached their destination.

“She’s over here,” he said, hanging a left and pushing into the recovery-stall area.

The instant the door opened, Payne hesitated, a frown appearing as whinnies and the occasional hoof stamping broke through the hayscented air.

“Farther down.” Manny tugged at her hand. “Her name’s Glory.”

Glory was the last one on the left, but the instant he said her name, her long, elegant neck stretched out and her perfectly proportioned head emerged from the top of her stall.

“Hey, girl,” he said. In response, she let out a proper greeting, her pointed ears pricking, her muzzle pumping the air.

“Merciful fate,” Payne breathed, dropping his hand and going forward ahead of him.

As she approached the stall, Glory tossed her head, her black mane flaring, and he had a sudden vision of Payne getting bitten. “Be careful,” he said as he broke into a jog. “She doesn’t like—”

The instant Payne put her hand on that silken muzzle, Glory went right in for more, bumping against the palm, seeking a proper cuddle.

“—new people,” Manny finished lamely.

“Hello, darling one,” Payne murmured, her eyes going over the horse as she leaned into the stall. “You are so beautiful . . . so big and strong. . . .” Pale hands found a black neck and stroked in a slow rhythm. “Why are her forelegs bandaged?”

“She broke the right one. Badly. About a week ago.”

“May I go inside?”

“Ah . . .” God, he couldn’t believe it, but Glory appeared to be in love, her eyes all but rolling back into her head as she got a good scratching behind the ears. “Yeah, I think it’ll be okay.”

He sprang the latch on the door and they both slipped in. And when Glory went to move back, she hobbled . . . on what had been her good side.

She’d lost so much weight that her ribs were showing like picketfence rails under her coat.

And he was willing to bet when the newness of her visitors dimmed, her burst of energy would fade fast.

The voice mail message from the doctor had been all too apt: She was failing. That broken bone was healing, but not nearly fast enough, and the redistribution of mass had caused the layers of the opposite hoof to weaken and separate.

Glory extended her muzzle into his chest and gave him a quick shove. “Hey, girlie.”

“She is extraordinary.” Payne patted her way around the filly. “Just extraordinary.”

And now he had another thing on his conscience: Maybe bringing Payne here was not a gift, but a cruelty. Why introduce her to an animal who was likely going to be . . .

God, he couldn’t even think it.

“You are not the only one who is territorial,” Payne said softly.

Manny glanced around Glory’s head. “I’m sorry?”

“When you told me I was to meet a female, I . . . I had hoped she was one with a horse face.”

He laughed and smoothed Glory’s forehead. “Well, she has that, all right.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

As he tried to form the words, he gathered the mane that fell just above the filly’s nearly black eyes.

“Your lack of reply is answer enough,” Payne said sadly.

“I don’t know why I brought you here. I mean . . .” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I know why—and it’s pretty fucking pathetic. All I have is my job. . . . Glory is the only thing that is not my job. This is personal for me.”

“You must be brokenhearted.”

“I am.” Abruptly, Manny looked over the back of his failing horse to the dark-headed vampire who had laid her cheek against Glory’s flank. “I am . . . absolutely destroyed at the loss.”