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A shiver started at the base of my neck and I resisted the urge to rub the chill from my arms. If I didn’t know better, I would think all of this was etched in some ancient tablet somewhere. The intersection of Damian and me written in the folds of fate.
“You were born on July first?” I asked and he nodded, his wide blue eyes never leaving mine. Certainty swept through my blood and I took a step back. I needed to sit down and I turned, crossing to the couch and slumping in the soft cushion.
“Holy shit,” I whispered and my gaze found the mural. The thing that triggered the intense sexual romp in the bedroom, and I wondered if I should have said yes, if I should have sealed our fates beyond the blood bond.
He stepped out of the office, running his hand through his thick hair, his face a shade paler than a moment ago.
“I need to do my sweep of the area,” he said. “If I’m not back in an hour...” he trailed off.
“I’ll come looking for you.”
He shook his head. “No. You can’t. If you go running out looking for me and don’t get back here in time for the sunrise, I’d never forgive myself.”
“What about you? What if you don’t get back in time?”
He sent a smile in my direction, one meant for the addlebrained and I tightened my jaw at the flush of anger that seeded in my chest.
“Just stay put,” he said and turned to go.
Irritation racked my bones and I almost followed him, but the warning glare he shot over his shoulder before he disappeared up the stairs stopped me. When the rattle of the door settled, I turned and stared at the clock. If he wasn’t back by four, I’d go looking for him regardless of whether he wanted me to or not.
I wandered back into the office and slid into the chair behind the computer monitor, pulling the keyboard out. The minute I moved the mouse, the monitor came to life and a password prompt came up. My fingers paused and I looked toward the stairwell before I typed the four digits he told me operated the keypad upstairs.
My hands closed into fists as I waited and the little hourglass flipped on the screen. After a few tilts of the timer, the familiar windows screen appeared. I huffed at the non-personalized screen and opened up the browser. I logged onto my email account and stared at the latest message.
It was from Mark and I hesitated, knowing that the moment I opened it, he would know I wasn’t dead and if he knew, Lucifer would know as well. I moved the mouse over the entry waiting for the preview to show me the first line but no preview was available.
“Damn it,” I whispered to the empty room. “What the hell could he possibly have to say to me anyway?” Pushing away from the desk, I crossed my arms and stared at the screen. After the internal debate of whether to open the stinking email or not, I reached for the mouse, moving it to the top corner and closed the browser.
The last thing I wanted to do was lead Lucifer to this house, and I knew enough about computers and email accounts to know that would be exactly what I was doing if I gave in and opened his email.
Thoughts of what I’d do to Mark when I got hold of him accosted my brain and made me smile. I caught my reflection in the monitor and my heart jumped. The visions of tearing Mark to pieces brought forth a set of razor sharp teeth and I laughed at the image, knowing he’d shit his pants if I showed up at his door like this.
I opened the browser again and brought up the news just to see what was going on in the world. The political climate disgusted me, so I switched from CNN and FOX over to the entertainment news. My fingers itched to jump back into my email or log onto my facebook page, but again, that was dangerous and I wanted to talk with Damian before I endangered all of us by doing something stupid.
My gaze dropped to the clock at the thought of Damian and my eyes widened. The hour had already passed and he wasn’t back.
I shut down the computer and tore up the stairs, impatiently waiting for the door to unlatch. Once the click signaled, I shot out the door and put my hand on the scanner hidden behind the shrubbery, engaging the mechanics to make the doorway disappear.
I stepped out into the cool morning and scanned the sky. The absence of a hawk in any direction clenched my heart. Losing him now would be devastating and I almost laughed at the lurch in my stomach, especially since I had only known him for a full day. This kind of attachment usually takes a lifetime.
I closed my eyes and lifted my nose in the air, letting the wind bring all sorts of scents into my consciousness. I stepped into the middle of the large yard, repeating the process, scanning the air over the forest and then inhaling the scents hanging on the air. Neither brought me answers.
I turned in the direction where the demon attacked and a twinge in my spine told me it was the right direction to start looking. Willing the change, I bounded in the same direction I had earlier, crashing through the forest and sending the wildlife in all directions. I slowed and lifted my snout, testing the air again.
This time, my tiger senses overflowed with information. Damian was in the woods and he wasn’t alone.
The knowledge almost sent me into a full charge, but there was more than one demon here and I needed to be stealthy in order to intercept. My heart knocked in my chest and I slunk in the direction of the meadow, leaving a wide berth around the area where I thought they were.
Snow dropped from the sky, helping me blend into the dark forest and when I reached the meadow, I turned my attention to the opening closest to the house. What I saw sent a visceral fury through my frame and I snarled.
Damian knelt between two trees, his arms stretched wide and his wrists bound in glinting chains that wrapped around the tree trunks. A demon was pacing in front of him, glancing between the field and Damian as he paced.
A flicker lit the night behind Damian and he winced, his back arching and a pain-filled growl peeled from his throat. Why didn’t he just transition and fly away?
My gaze dropped to the chains and then the demon behind him gleefully cracked the whip against his skin again. It was the same bastard that taunted me from the window last night.
This time when the whip bit into his back, Damian didn’t react. His head lolled on his shoulders.
I took a moment to test the air again. The scent of Damian’s blood drifted on the wind, along with the stench of demons. I only saw two, but there were more in the area, one guarded the perimeter of the glen and I slunk farther away from Damian, toward the offensive beast.
The kill was quick and silent. One snap of my jaws severed his head, the taste of the blood reminiscent of fire and brimstone and I didn’t linger. I dragged the body into the underbrush and stalked closer.
My senses overloaded with Damian’s blood and the continued crack of the whip and my rage built. I flexed my paws and a line of razor sharp claws retracted itching to slice through the bastards.
“Wake him,” the order captured my attention and I lowered close to the ground, still maneuvering closer, using the woods and the shadows to my advantage. Whatever they waved under his face made his head snap back in disgust.
The bastard took a handful of his hair and leaned close. “I want you alive when the sun bakes you to dust,” he growled. “You shouldn’t have intervened yesterday.”
“Fuck you,” Damian whispered but his voice shook with the pain that filled his senses.
I angled myself in the outcrop of trees directly across from him and every muscle in my body tightened. My gaze traveled between the closest demon and the one delivering pain in the form of a whip.
The next snap of the lash acted like the gunshot at the start of a race and I shot out of my crouch, pushing the envelope of speed and Damian’s eyes widened at my approach. The demon in front of him turned just in time for my claws to shred his throat and I coiled, launching myself in the air.
The demon holding the whip didn’t even have time to reach back with the weapon before I was on him. His screams were like a twisted elixir and I relished each one until he was in pieces all around me.
“Naomi,” his voice cut through my carnage and I spun, licking the blood from my chops. My gaze landed on his shredded back and two conflicting emotions took hold of my form, hunger and horror.
Damian turned his head to the east and I followed his gaze. The color painting the sky gave my heart a shot of adrenaline and my gaze snapped to the chains holding him in place. I launched at the one on his right, clamping my powerful jaws on the material, even as Damian yelled “No!”
The metal snapped under the vicious clench of my teeth and the motion silenced Damian. I repeated with the other chain and then stepped next to him, nudging him. He was in no condition to walk back, never mind run, and I didn’t think he could transition with the strips of platinum still wrapped around his wrists. It took him a moment and a second nudge to understand my intention.
He draped his leg over my back and wrapped his arms around my neck. “Go,” he whispered in my ear and I took off like a shot, flying over the thin layer of snow with the speed of a cheetah. I slid to a stop just shy of the back door and put my paw on his arms, feeling the transition.
Damian was dead weight on my back and I stumbled into the atrium with his feet dragging behind me. It was a struggle crossing but I made it to the keypad slamming my hand on it and praying it would be fast enough. A quick glance over my shoulder at the morning sky sent a skeptical rush through my veins and I dragged Damian to the door, impatiently tapping my foot as the mural moved at a snail’s pace.
As soon as it stopped, I pushed the door open, nearly falling down the stairs with the weight of him. I caught the railing and closed the door, punching the code before I worked my way downstairs. I didn’t stop until I collapsed under his weight on the bathroom floor.
I crawled from underneath him and my hands shook as I unraveled the chains, flinging them across the room in disgust. Damian didn’t flinch, or groan or utter any signs of being alive and the panic attack started, gripping every one of my muscles and twisting.
“Damian, wake up!” My voice shook with an edge of the panic fluttering in my stomach. I glanced at the floor under him, the puddle of blood expanded and I rolled him over, studying his injuries. The damage was catastrophic and I found my feet, pulling a towel off the rack and soaking it in cold water before laying the wet fabric across his shredded back.
I rolled him onto his back, with the towel soaking up his blood and laid his head in my lap. His beautiful face was pale and slack, almost peaceful and my heart cried out for him. Without more than a fleeting thought, I ripped my wrist open and put it to his mouth, stroking his cheek with my free hand and whispering a prayer.
When he latched on, I gasped at the pain. He pulled the blood from me with a vengeance that made me swoon. I tried to pull away but he held my wrist in place, sucking around a low growl that started in the center of his chest.
“Damian,” I yelled, struggling to pull away.
His eyes flew open and they were dark shadows of the demon that attacked me on the rooftop until they focused in my direction. The snarl in his throat quieted and he blinked. The rush of blood slowed and he looked around the room, his gaze landing back on me before his teeth retracted from my skin. His lips remained in place, but he stopped sucking, instead, I felt the soft swipe of his tongue. His eyes closed again and he pulled my wrist away from his mouth.
“I told you never to feed an injured vampire,” he whispered and tilted his head back so he could see my face.
I shrugged at him, shaking off the waves of dizziness and offering a smile. “I couldn’t let you die.”
“Baby, you’re lucky I care about you so much,” he whispered. “Otherwise, I would have drained every last drop of your blood.”
His admission stunned me and my eyebrows rose. He shifted, lifting his head to sit up, but the strength of my blood hadn’t taken hold of him yet and he dropped back in my lap.
“You didn’t listen to me, either,” his raspy voice cut through my shock.
“If I hadn’t come, you would be a pile of dust on the forest floor right now.”
He let out a shaky laugh and nodded, easing himself into a sitting position next to me. “I’m not used to having to be saved.” He glanced at me. “And you’re a hot mess,” he grinned and glanced at the blood soaked towel on the floor. His smile faded and a sigh replaced it.
I climbed to my feet and glanced in the mirror. My eyes widened in the reflection. Hot mess was an understatement. I looked like a blood soaked ghost. He straightened next to me in the image, looking every bit as horrid as I did.
“Quite the pair,” he said and I turned a skeptical eye in his direction. He went to strip the shredded shirt and winced. “This is going to take a little longer than the duration of a shower to heal.”
I didn’t speak, but I reached out and helped him strip the fabric off.
Still clad in his blood-drenched jeans, he maneuvered us into the stall and turned on the shower. His jaw clenched against the whimper of pain when the spray doused his back and he pulled me into his arms, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck. I wrapped my arms around his waist, careful not to disturb the cuts on his back.
Streaks of red flowed off both of us and I closed my eyes, just holding on and letting the hot water wash away the blood. A twinge of hunger struck at the sweet smell filling the shower stall and I pressed my eyes tight, turning my head away from Damian and willing the thirst away.
“I don’t understand how you were able to snap the chains in half,” he whispered and pulled away, meeting my gaze.
“Yeah, well, I still don’t understand a whole hell of a lot either,” I said. His blue-eyed gaze pulled me in and I sighed and stretched up on my tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Thank you,” he said when I dropped down to my heels. His gaze traveled over my shoulder at the mess on the bathroom floor. “I made a hell of a mess.”
Chuckling, I followed his gaze. “Yes, and I’m not sure I can help you clean it without losing control.”
“I’ve got some emergency reserves that’ll help both of us get some strength back.”
My gaze snapped to him as the statement sank in. He met my gaze with a shrug. “I’ve had a run in or two before,” he said.
“Like that?” I swung my thumb over my shoulder.
“No, not like that. I’ve been lucky enough to stay out of range of Lucifer’s henchmen.” His fingers traced my lips. “Until tonight. I walked right into their ambush like a rookie. I should have known there would be more than one.” He pulled away from me and reached for the knob, turning the water off. His hands dropped to his belt and he unbuckled, peeling his soaking jeans from his skin and dropping them in the corner. Closing his eyes, he leaned his hand on the wall to steady himself.
“You should leave your clothes in here, too,” he whispered with his eyes still closed. His chin dipped to his chest and he drew in a deep breath.
I watched as he gathered himself to take another step. I followed his advice and dropped my clothing in the pile, leaving only my bra and underwear in place. I stepped to his side and took hold of his arm.
He glanced at me, the question in his expression made me smile.
“You look like you need a hand,” I said.
We stepped out of the shower, careful to avoid the tacky blood on the floor and I led him to the bedroom. When he turned to his dresser, I bit back the gasp. His back was still traversed with oozing wounds.
“Do you have any bandages?” I asked with my gaze locked on the thin trails of blood running down to the waistband of his underwear where it soaked into the fabric creating a pattern I couldn’t tear my eyes from.
He paused with a t-shirt in his hand and cocked his head, like he was thinking through the catalog of items he had in this daytime sanctuary. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t even think I have Band-Aids,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Why, is it still that bad?”
I laughed, yanked from my thirsty stare by his question. “Whatever you put on, you’ll ruin.”
“Shit,” he said and dropped the shirt back in the drawer. He peeled off the wet underwear and switched it for a dry pair. Rummaging around the drawer, he finally found an old pair of cut off sweats, pulling them on before he turned toward me.
“Are you just going to stand and stare or are you going to get dressed?”
His curt attitude slapped me into action and I changed into one of the more comfortable lounging accessories I bought and turned. Damian stood with his hand gripping the top of the chair next to the dresser like it was the only thing holding him upright.
“Do you need my help?” I asked crossing to him and he sent a weak smile in my direction. I took that as a yes and wrapped my arm around him and he steered us toward the small kitchenette that I didn’t know existed.
“You haven’t seen the entire place yet,” he said and hobbled to the refrigerator. When he opened the door, I gasped at the content.
“What’d you do, raid a blood bank?”
He shrugged and took out two bags of O positive from the stash. “I only took the most common blood type and it’s just for emergencies.” He met my gaze and hobbled to the counter across the small expanse. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two large goblets that looked like they came from ancient times.
The moment he ripped open the bag, the sweet scent settled in my head and my thirst went from a whisper to a scream, I was at his side reaching before he was done pouring. He intercepted my wrist long enough to squeeze out the last drop and then he handed the cup to me. I didn’t wait for him, I drank in greedy gulps, the liquid fueling a new energy in my tired cells.
“Kind of like crack, isn’t it?” he asked, licking his lips. I saw the same renewed energy in his eyes that ran amok in my body. He dropped the empty packages in the garbage under the sink and took the glass from my hands, cleaning both of them and putting them in the drain before turning back to me.
My gaze traveled back to the refrigerator. I wanted more but he took a grip of my upper arm, pulling me away from the source of my craving. I let him, knowing he was right, but the base animal at my core let out a growling groan and he stopped.
“That’s all we need to recharge,” he said and I found his hard gaze. “Any more and you won’t be able to resist attacking a human.”
His words pierced through the hunger, dissolving it into a twitching itch at the base of my spine and I nodded, understanding his warning. I didn’t want to kill the innocent and he gave me a nod.
“Neither do I,” he whispered.
He was in my head again and I pulled out of his grip.
“I can’t help it, Naomi, and I don’t know how to shut it off.” He offered a shrug. “This is as new to me as being a vampire is to you.”
“You’ve never read other’s minds?”
Damian shook his head. “No. That’s been another unique development and it’s only you that I can read.”
I thought about the flood of information I received when he offered his blood to me yesterday and I nodded. I hadn’t experienced anything like that in my mortal life.
He reached out and took my hand, leading me back to the bedroom.
“What are you? A sex addict?” I said.
“No, I need some sleep,” he said. “And I don’t want you to get into trouble.” I didn’t resist when he pulled me close, his form wrapped around me, fitting around me in the perfect spoon, like we had done this a thousand times before. The natural ease of it sparked in my soul and I sighed. His lips trailed down my neck and the back of my shoulder. “Thank you for saving my life,” he whispered.
I let the silence settle until his soft snores caressed my neck, tickling and I smiled, closing my eyes and letting sleep take over.