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Hero's Haven Page 8
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She moved to the center, which was covered with hay. “Did you sense anybody following us?”
“No.”
She took a deep breath. “The helicopters were fighting each other. Maybe one of them was an ally of yours?”
His temples ached. “Maybe. We could not take that chance. But perhaps my brothers are still alive. Ronan and Jacer. If they are, and they saw the Kayrs marking on the television, they will be searching for us.” He looked around the small empty shelter. “We can’t stay here long.”
She frowned, studying the blood frozen on his flannel jacket. “You haven’t stopped bleeding?”
“No.” He pressed a hand to his neck and tried once again to send healing cells to the injury. “I might need to hunt again. Now.”
She wiped snow away from her eyes. “Wait a minute. You’re half vampire. Does that mean you take other people’s blood and can turn them into vampires?”
“We can’t change anybody into anything other than what they already are. As for biting, yes, but only in extreme situations like fighting or sex.” His neck hurt like a raw wound, and even his blood felt chilled. He needed to regain his strength before fighting again.
“Does blood heal you?” she asked, unzipping her coat, her green eye darker than usual.
“I am not discussing this right now.” He moved for a slat and peered out into the storm. Nothing.
She grabbed his arm and jerked him around. “The hell you’re not. If I’m really part demon, then I must have pretty strong blood, right? Why not take some of mine and heal yourself?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I just said those words. Seriously. Life is weird.” She poked him in the chest. “But I’m right, and you know it.”
“Absolutely not.” He let his natural growl take over the hoarseness in his voice.
Her chin lifted, and a lovely pink crossed her high cheekbones. “There’s something wrong with my blood? Because I’m part Fae?”
“No.” No doubt her blood tasted like salvation and sex. Both of which he’d love right now. “I am a Kayrs soldier, a leader of the most dangerous beings on this or any world. I will not take your blood, which you will need if we’re attacked again.” How could she even suggest such a thing? They were on borrowed time, and no doubt one of the many groups pursuing them would catch up again at any moment. “You need to be at full strength.”
She tossed her head, and that blond hair flew all around. Snow dropped to the hay. “I need you to be at full strength. Have you thought of that?”
Stubborn. Sexy and stubborn, she was. “You make a good point,” he allowed. Truth be told, he’d never taken either a demoness’s or a fairy’s blood before. No doubt it was a potent blend, and considering she’d brought out his mating mark, it would affect him more strongly than any other. But they hadn’t mated, so perhaps not. He did not know.
She stepped closer to him, meeting his gaze. “Come on. You know you want it.” Her voice was a low croon and a strong challenge.
His nostrils flared, and he caught her scent. Wild and free with a hint of oranges. The craving took him, right to his soul. “Haven. You do not know of what you speak.” His first job, his only job right now, was to protect her. She should understand that fact.
“Yes, I do.” She slid her hand up over his chest and tilted her head, exposing the gentle column of her sweet neck. “We both need you at your best. It’s possible one of those helicopters was full of allies, but maybe not. At the very least we have two forces after us, and maybe three.”
She sure did analyze a shitty situation well, and she knew how to spot a male’s weakness and use it. It hurt him that she’d had to develop that skill through life. “One taste of you won’t be enough,” he said, giving her the truth.
“That’s all you get for now,” she retorted. “Take enough to heal yourself but leave me whole. We’re going to have to run again soon.”
“You will cease this bossiness,” he snapped, his blood beginning to burn for her.
“Not a chance.” She leaned even closer. “Come on, big boy. Take a bite.”
* * * *
If there was one thing Haven Daly had perfected and honed through life, besides her art, it was the ability to survive. Without question, if there were men out there who changed into cougars in a heartbeat, she needed Quade at his very best to fight. If her blood could fix him, he could take whatever he wanted so long as she remained strong enough to run.
And he wanted her.
Lust glittered in those eyes that were rapidly turning to the mystical topaz of the Caribbean Sea right before a storm. His desire and need heated the air around them, and she couldn’t help but respond. Not only out of self-preservation, but out of a curiosity that was rapidly sliding into a craving.
“Quade,” she whispered.
His tortured groan rippled through her body to land in her abdomen.
“This is insane,” he muttered, brushing her hair away from her shoulder as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Insane?” She partially turned to meet his gaze. “We’re being chased by creepy dudes with helicopters, a weirdo who can turn into a wildcat, and who knows what else. We’re in a crappy old barn, it’s freezing, and we’re both getting turned on. We left insane several miles back. This is—I have no clue what to call this. But bite me, take my blood, and let’s figure out our next move.”
A dark scruff covered his rugged jaw, making him look even wilder than she knew him to be. “I’m glad you can keep your sense of humor in this type of situation,” he said.
“I’m not laughing,” she retorted, stretching her neck more. “You are still bleeding.” Drops were falling onto her shoulder. “Stop being a jackass and bite me.”
“Fine.” He swept her up so quickly, she yelped. “You’ve never been bitten before, so we don’t know how you’ll react.” He kicked a bunch of the dry hay against the most intact wall and then dropped to sit, cradling her. “I’ve never taken blood like yours, so likewise, this is an experiment.”
He felt warm and hard around her, and doubts crept in. “Will it hurt?”
“Yes.”
Figured. “Okay.”
He rocked her, extending his long legs and crossing his boots. “If you were more demon than fairy, you’d have fangs, too.”
“Fae,” she replied automatically. “Sounds tougher. Like a magic force instead of Tinkerbell.” Adrenaline flooded her system, and her muscles tensed.
“Relax.” He massaged her shoulder, sending warm tingles down her body. “The points are blade sharp, and the pain will only last for a heartbeat.”
Right. Said the guy who had the fangs. “Pierce. Back there. He turned into a cougar.”
Quade paused, apparently willing to let her stall now that doubts were creeping in. “Aye. He’s a shifter. There are feline, canine, and multi, which are all bears, I believe.”
Reality crashed down on her. Unbelievable. “What? No dragons?” She tried for levity.
He winced.
Her torso straightened. “There are dragon shifters?”
“They’re a secret.” Quade shifted her in his arms, settling her to straddle him, her thighs bracketing his. “At least they were back in my day. I visited their island off Ireland long ago. The floors of the castle were made of crushed diamonds.”
Her eyes widened. “Diamonds. Real ones?”
Amusement tipped his firm lips. “You like diamonds.”
“Who doesn’t? Anything that sparkles, really.” She shifted nervously. “We should probably—”
“Yes.” He gently grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, rolling his wrist and tilting her head. His nostrils flared, and his entire body hardened beneath her. Those deadly fangs dropped low.
She shivered at the sight. A full body roll that moved her clit over the obvious bulge in his jeans. She jerked as e
lectricity zapped through her lower body. Then she closed her eyes, wanting to hide some of the emotion assailing her.
His chest moved, and pain lanced the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Then warmth. He drank from her, and she could feel her blood flowing, but no pain. Only sparkles of pleasure inside her at a level she hadn’t thought possible. Need and want combined so fast she gasped.
She pressed her hands against his impossibly strong chest, digging her nails into the wet flannel. Closer. She had to get closer. She sighed, more of a whimper, and rubbed against him.
Her nipples hardened and her clit pounded. So much. It was too much.
His hands gripped her hips and he drank more. Rolling up from his chest came a growl different from any she’d heard before. Deep and hoarse—almost a battle cry. His head lifted slightly, and he licked the wound, numbing and closing it. She felt his tongue everywhere.
His unrelenting grip still on her chin, he turned her to face him and licked the remaining blood off his lips.
She tried to think through the havoc and hunger in her body and fell back on flippancy. “What do I taste like?”
Instead of answering, he lowered his head and kissed her. This time there was no exploring or tentativeness. He kissed her deep and hard, commanding a response. All male and all strength, he consumed her, his thumb increasing pressure on her jaw until she opened her mouth so he could sweep in and take.
And for the first time, he took.
Everything he wanted and then more.
Her blood thickened and heated, and she leaned into him, overcome. Desire assailed her, making her want on a plane way beyond the physical. There was only the male holding her and what he could do. At the moment, he could do anything. She gasped and rubbed against him, needing relief in a way that felt desperate. She found none.
His grip on her hip tightened, and he pulled her closer, right over that ridge.
Against all odds, against all reality, she exploded into an orgasm so powerful she completely stopped thinking. There were no sights or sounds. Only the rippling pleasure that took her away for several moments. She wrenched her mouth free, her breath heaving, her body coming down.
Finally, shocked, she met his now completely topaz gaze. Helpless. She was helpless to say or think anything.
His eyes glittered and his jaw was set hard, a muscle ticking visibly in his throat. “Ask me again. Your question.” His voice was so hoarse the words were garbled.
She swallowed and tried to force out words. “Wh-what do I taste like?”
“Mine.”
Chapter Twelve
Ronan Kayrs kicked a piece of smoldering metal against a tree, his head aching and his broken bones slowly stitching themselves back together. “Son of a fucking bitch,” he snapped. The main body of the crashed chopper was still in flames, sputtering in the unrelenting snowstorm. Even though he was immortal and could not die, surviving a helicopter crash hurt like no other pain imaginable. They’d all been out cold for at least an hour, maybe more, as their bodies repaired themselves enough to allow consciousness to return.
Adare O’Cearbhaill, his face pale as the snow beneath his natural bronze skin color, threw his shoulder into a tree and snapped the bone back into place. He grunted, the sound filled with pain, before turning around. Blood poured from his left ear, no doubt from the head wound that still showed pieces of skull. “That was Quade. I know it was.”
Ronan’s limbs itched with the need to run and find his brother, although at least an hour had gone by since the crash. Maybe two. While he and Quade were biological brothers, Adare had become a brother to them both during the ritual of the Seven and was as desperate to find Quade as Ronan.
The third member of their helicopter disaster ran toward them, blood still spurting from his shoulder. “Just scouted over the ridge. The Kurjan chopper went down, and I can see three survivors. They’re in same shape we are. Want to fight?” Logan Kyllwood, the youngest member of the Seven, was always up for a fight. Even with an obvious broken arm and what looked like a compound fracture of his femur.
“Jesus. Heal your leg and stop running on it,” Adare said, always grumpy. “While you’re at it, you look ridiculous with that unicorn tattoo on your face.”
Ronan snorted. “More like macabre.” Blood and grit slid in rivulets over the sparkly animal.
Logan rolled his eyes and dropped to the ground, trying to extend his leg. “My sister painted that, and for a five-year-old, I think it’s amazing. In fact, her sitting still for ten minutes was a miracle.”
What was amazing was that the three Kyllwood brothers, some of the most dangerous demons in the world, had a little sister named Clarissa because their mama had re-mated a deadly witch enforcer. Since their mama was slightly nuts and robbed banks for fun, the little sprite was probably going to wreak havoc her entire life. This was just the beginning.
Logan’s bone snapped into place, and he let out a growl. “We going to fight, or what?”
Ronan grimaced at the sound and tried to send healing cells to his ruptured liver. “Let’s call this one a draw and all live to fight another day. We radioed for backup, and I’m sure the Kurjans did as well. I’m more interested in catching up with Quade. If that was Quade.” He hadn’t gotten a good look through the storm.
“Has to be,” Adare argued. “You saw the marking on the television set. It’s Kayrs.”
“Yeah, it was a Kayrs marking. Doesn’t mean it was Quade.” Ronan hated to get his hopes up. Snow piled down from the disturbed trees, landing on his head. He shook it off and winced as his broken clavicle protested. There were just so many healing cells he could use at one time.
The snow finally quenched the fire in what was left of the helicopter, leaving black smoke continuing to rise from it.
Logan grimaced and another bone cracked audibly in his leg. “What I don’t understand is why Quade, if it is Quade, is with the female. We’ve been chasing Haven Daly for months. How is he with her?”
“I don’t know,” Ronan said, his ribs rattling as one sliced through a lung. “But we know from her paintings that she has drawn or painted him through the years, so they have a connection. If the marking appeared, she’s his mate.”
“Think they’ve mated?” Adare asked, wiping blood off his lip.
Ronan shrugged. “Hell if I know.” He’d give anything to have his brother back and whole. “Last time Ivar saw him in his hell world, which was months for us and centuries for Quade, my brother was mostly insane.” There was a possibility that if the male they’d seen running was Quade, he had kidnapped the female and she’d need saving. The woman had had a hard enough life as it was. “We need to find them before the Kurjans do, either way.”
Logan knocked his head back on the tree. “Is it just me, or do you two smell shifter? Cougar?”
Ronan lifted his head. “My sinus cavity is still cracked. Can’t smell a thing.” If an animal was around and wanted to remain hidden, it definitely wasn’t an ally. “The shifter nations don’t know about the Seven or the bubbles or Quade.” All they needed was another wildcard in this disaster.
A cut along Logan’s jaw slowly mended. “I’m telling you. I smell shifter.”
Another helicopter hovered low, and Benjamin Reese dropped from it to land next to Ronan, spraying snow and pieces of metal in every direction. The male was large, even for a hybrid. He smiled and clapped Ronan on the back. “You wrecked our best helicopter. Dumbass.”
Ronan coughed and shut his eyes against the pain. “Benny. For God’s sake.”
“Sorry.” Benny surveyed the group. “Holy shit. This is worse than you said. No wonder you couldn’t chase after your quarry. I’ve called in backup to pick up the wreckage and try to track the male and Haven Daly. In addition, I haven’t alerted the Realm. Yet.”
The Realm was a coalition of immortal allies.
�
�They won’t like this,” Logan muttered.
“Then let’s not tell them,” Benny said, his fathomless eyes sparkling. “You can keep secrets from family, right?”
“Yeah,” Logan sighed. “I agree. Let’s keep this fuck-up among the Seven, only. The Realm is already uneasy about us.”
Considering the male was talking about his blood family, it was a surprising comment, but he was right. Ronan nodded. “Let’s get up to the main road so the helicopter can pick us up. We need to return to headquarters and now.”
Benny, who’d been with the Seven since the beginning, placed a much gentler hand on Ronan’s shoulder. “Why do I smell shifter?”
“Told you,” Logan muttered.
Benny switched topics again. “Was the male with Haven Daly our Quade?” Hope glimmered in his powerful eyes.
“I think so,” Ronan said, not wanting to give Ben false hope. Every time they thought they had tracked down Quade and failed, the massive hybrid sank into a furious darkness even Ronan couldn’t penetrate.
“It makes sense,” Benny said. “There’s no other explanation for the Kayrs marking plus Haven Daly, who has painted Quade somehow. Since she’s a fairy-demon mix, something she might not even know, she probably can move through dimensions with her mind like we did during the Seven ritual. It’s him, Ronan.”
“My money?” Adare limped toward Logan. “The air is different and something is in the wind. We all sense it. The world has changed, and it’s time for the Seven to act, my brothers. Ready or not.”
Ronan grimaced as Benny tugged him up the hill toward the road. “True words,” he muttered.
* * * *
After a short helicopter ride and taking some of Ben’s blood, Ronan felt his head finally stop pounding as they stepped off the craft right outside headquarters. “Ben, you tasted like bourbon.”
Benny released him and shook snow out of his long brown hair. “Whatever. It’s the good stuff, so don’t complain.”