Three Days Later
Grace's newfound fear of him had become quite obvious since the day she'd spilled her secrets. Was she worried that he was going to steal her spell? What good would it do him? He was a vampire for heaven's sake! He couldn't do all that hokey-pokey.
She had also proven to be quite brilliant at evasion tactics, somehow managing to avoid being anywhere within three feet of him for days, even as cramped as they were in this underground tin can. If he tried to so much as touch her hair, she flinched away from him and quickly found something else to do.
He only wished he could figure out why.
She was acting as though he was going to pounce on her at any moment, like a wild animal. And if he was going to be completely honest with himself, her fears weren't far off the mark. The thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. Just not in the way she seemed to fear.
It was definitely a test of his willpower, being holed up in here with her. Grace was everywhere: her voice, her scent...her tiny knickers hanging in the shower stall after she laundered them. He couldn't escape her.
They watched the monitors constantly, taking turns, of course. Despite her obvious nervousness around him, he would stay awake as long as he was able in the morning after she had risen, just to stand close to her as she sat in the desk chair studying the screens while he updated her on their friend's activities the night before.
He'd watch with her until he couldn't resist the lure of the sun any longer. Then he would slide one of the beds out of the wall and crash for the day. He'd usually wake up to find Grace already in the lower bed, reading or sleeping, her pet curled up in his makeshift house near his litter box.
Aiden had made the tiny house one night while she'd slept. Finding another box that had contained cans of lo mein, a favorite staple of Grace's, he'd folded in the top panels, and slid a T-shirt over the sides so that the neck formed the opening. Laying it sideways on the floor, it made the perfect little hedgehog home.
When Grace had awakened that morning, she'd found her beloved pet settling down to sleep for the day, curled up in his house on some nice, soft bedding of shredded toilet paper.
She'd gazed at the little house for a long moment, then got up to use the loo without a word. When she'd come out, her eyes had been suspiciously red, and she'd thanked him sincerely if not eloquently, then went over to make her breakfast.
They'd fallen into a routine. He slept during the day, and she would watch the monitors, read the books she'd had stashed there, eat, clean, shower, wash her clothes and play with Mojo when the little guy was awake. At night, she would sleep, Mojo would play, and he would watch over them both, climbing the ladder occasionally to make sure the door was securely shut.
Sitting at the desk, he would spend his time going back and forth between watching the live footage of what was happening aboveground to watching the video that recorded while he was sleeping.
He didn't really need the monitors. He could feel the demons above them, almost to the point of knowing how many were out there at any given time.
During the daylight hours, humans lingered around the square, and not just tourists. Aiden recognized a few of them as the Suits that had inadvertently taken Mojo the day he'd met Grace, and they'd brought friends.
They searched the grounds with metal detectors, poking at the grass with sticks, looking for any hidden spots he and Grace could've disappeared into. However, with each passing day, fewer and fewer of them would come, as they came to the conclusion that there was nowhere in the vicinity they could be hiding.
When darkness fell, Leeha's hybrids would come back. But unlike the humans, who'd given up so easily, they only seemed to become more and more obsessed with finding them.
They swarmed the grounds around the sculpture like insects, scaring off any humans who happened to wander by that late, seemingly unconcerned about keeping a low profile. And every night, there were more of them.
He didn't mention this to Grace, unwilling to add to her distress. If she noticed when she was studying the footage, she didn't speak of it. She hardly spoke to him at all, actually.
He wanted to smooth away the worry lines from her forehead. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it was going to be all right. He wanted to tell her that she had no need to be afraid of him, that he wasn't capable of hurting her. He wanted to kiss her again, desperately.
But he stubbornly refused to acknowledge the reason why.
On the fourth day, Aiden awoke to find the room empty and the bathroom door wide open. He jerked up out of bed, landing gracefully on his feet. Mojo was snuffling around in his house, the backpack was on the floor against the wall, but there was no scent of Grace.
She was gone.
He was up the ladder and at the hatch in less than half a second, not caring that it was still daylight out. Throwing his shoulder into the door, he put all of his strength behind it, but the bloody thing wouldn't budge.
A sudden and unreasonable panic gathered inside of him. He started hurling himself violently into the door without thought, over and over, until the bones in his shoulder cracked and crumbled under the impact.
With a roar of rage, he jumped down off of the ladder, beyond caring if anyone above ground heard him. He barely missed the now awake hedgehog as he landed, and began to pace. His right arm hung useless at his side, but he didn't feel anything except the fear in his gut.
Suddenly, he stopped pacing. What the bloody hell was he doing? He was acting like Nikulas (the fool), when he'd attempted to turn himself into a bonfire after Emma had stepped outside of the cave they were hiding out in. She'd gone out in broad daylight to relieve herself, and only hadn't come back because the wolves had taken her.
The Kincaid werewolves, that is, who are actually good mates of theirs.
Of course, they hadn't known what had happened to her at the time, and Nikulas had repeatedly tossed himself from the opening of their hideout and out into the sun trying to follow her outside.
Aiden had finally had to tackle the loon and threaten to tear off his limbs to keep him inside until the sun had set, and even then, things had been touchy as he'd tried to keep him from going after Emma.
Emma Moss. The female, and witch, who'd turned out to be Nikulas's mate.
The revelation hit Aiden like a truck. He stumbled backwards until the backs of his knees collided with Grace's bed and then he sat down hard, automatically holding his right arm against his stomach to avoid jarring his busted shoulder.
No, it wasn't bloody possible! He was the babe magnet of the group, the philanderer, the fantasy granter, and he bloody liked it that way. No one got more action than him, (other than Christian, but that fanger would bang anything lately). He had no use for a clingy female. He lived for variety, for feeding and for shagging. He had no desire to be chained to one female.
Hold on, mate! Let's not panic just yet.
He hadn't even tasted her yet. And according to the stories, which Nikulas had, unfortunately, found to be true, he wouldn't know his mate until he tasted her blood. The tricky part was, once he'd fed from that mate, he would then have to keep her around, alive and well, as he'd need her blood to survive. No other blood would do after drinking hers, and he wouldn't be able to feed from anyone else. Ever. Without his mate and her blood, he would weaken day by day, and eventually die the true death.
Even worse, if his friend were any example, he wouldn't want to shag anyone else either. Ever.
That was fine for Nikulas. He enjoyed being monogamous. He'd practically been a monk before he'd met Emma anyway.
But that fairy tale was not for him. He wasn't made to be a one-girl kind of bloke. Never had been, never would be. To be dependent on one person for your every joy? For your very existence? No. That was just too bloody much.
He swallowed hard as the thing he was trying so hard not to admit crept to the surface. His biggest fear of all: Was she, at this very moment, in danger? Dead?
And where was he? He'd been in bed, napping away. Nowhere near her. Just like before. Even though he knew there was nothing he could've done about it, he couldn't stop from being wracked with guilt.
And if she were still alive, how would he be able to protect her? A vulnerable, fragile human who could wander around in full sun? He couldn't, not forever, and then she would die and he would be all alone with his heart feeling like it was being torn from his chest.
Again.
But isn't that exactly what you're doing now? he asked himself. Isn't that why you're here in the first place? To protect her?
Yes, he answered as he looked around at the empty room. And a bloody fine job I'm doing, as you can see.
He rolled his shoulder, testing it. The bones were already healing.
I just need to get a bloody grip. It's not feasible for me to be so attached to her already. It must be something else. The vampire in me reacting to my only food supply scampering off and leaving me here to starve, that's all.
Yes, that had to be it. She was a feisty, delectable source of what he knew would be the sweetest blood he'd ever tasted, and that was all.
He scowled. So, where the bloody hell was she?
He began to pace the room again at vamp speed, easily dodging Mojo as the silly thing ran around with his head stuck in an empty toilet paper roll. Reaching down as he passed, he repeatedly pulled it off of him and dropped it on the floor, but finally gave up when the daft thing just kept sticking his nose back in it.
Finally, a rush of fresh air came from above, bringing with it the last rays of afternoon sunlight. They streamed down from the open hatch to land directly onto Aiden's head. Before he could react, the skin on his bare head started to sizzle and smoke.
"Bloody hell!" he yelled, slapping at his hair with his good arm while he danced back out of the beam of light.
The circle of sunlight narrowed and then disappeared as Grace climbed down the ladder with a paper bag tucked securely under her arm, the hatch closed behind her.
"WHERE THE BLOODY HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" he bellowed. "AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU GET THAT FUCKING, BLOODY DOOR OPEN?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin, practically falling down the last few rungs. Her eyes flew to his, and he saw a momentary flash of guilt there. It was there and gone so fast that if he hadn't been watching for just such a thing, he would've completely missed it.
She stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights at the sight of his anger and smoking hair, and then tucked her chin down without a word and tried to scamper past him.
He headed her off, stepping in front of her as she made for the loo to hide, the only other room in the place with a door.
"Fucking stop," he growled. "And tell me what bloody possessed you to go outside alone, and unprotected, with those things about to show up for the night!"
Staring at his chest, she mumbled, "I just needed something. No one saw me."
She went to walk around him again then, but he crossed his arms across his chest and made like a wall. A sliding wall that stuck to her like glue as she tried to sidestep around him, until she finally gave up and stood still.
"You will tell me where you bloody went, and why," he ground out between clenched teeth. "And then you're going to tell me how you open that bloody door."
She muttered something under her breath.
"Girl stuff? You needed 'girl stuff'?" he mocked. "You risked your bloody life, for what? Nail polish? Makeup? Have you gone off your trolley?" he asked in amazement.
Clenching her jaw, she eyed him defiantly as she pulled a box out of the bag and held it up in front of his face.
He raised an eyebrow. "Tampons?"
"Yes, if you must know. I got my bloody period! Happy now?"
Speechless for once, he did nothing to stop her this time as she marched around him and into the loo, slamming the door behind her.
Taking the first deep breath since he'd awakened, he inhaled her sweet scent, and then frowned.
Funny. He didn't notice anything different. Of course, she was in the other room now, and he'd been slightly distracted by the feel of the sun frying the skin off of his head to notice a change in her smell. He rubbed his tender skull ruefully.
Luckily for her, he was quite used to being around human females, and therefore could control himself even with the stronger blood scent.
But other human females didn't smell as good as Grace.
He grimaced. There was that.
No, no. It would be fine.
Scratching his head, he glanced around aimlessly, not quite sure what to do with himself now that she'd effectively knocked the steam out of him.
A thought occurred to him then: Why did she bother to come back? If she had truly made it past the Suits and to a store, why ever would she have come back here?
Wandering over to the desk, he sprawled out in the chair and watched Mojo bounce off the walls as he waited for her to come out.
Thirty minutes later, she did, eyeing him warily as she sidled into the room. She'd twisted up her long mahogany hair, showered, and changed into some of the extra clothes that had been stored here. Cargo pants and a button-down shirt, similar to what she'd worn on the way there.
Feeling a bit foolish now, he immediately stood up at her appearance, eager to make amends. "I apologize for yelling at you," he told her sincerely. "I was only a bit worried."
Mojo finally lost his toy and waddled towards her. Scooping him up, she flipped him onto his back in her palm, rubbing his soft belly with her free hand and playing with his feet.
For the first time in days, she spoke. "Continue," she said. "I'm listening."
Will miracles never cease to exist, he thought sarcastically.
"I was upset that you put yourself in danger. You should have waited for me to awaken. I am not unaware of the natural cycle of human females, I could have gone out and gotten what you needed for you."
She shook her head. "No. No sense in you risking yourself either. It was much easier for me to get around the few humans that are left then it would have been for you to sneak past our nighttime friends. I just had to wait for them to wander away from the hatch, and get to the cover of the trees without them seeing me." She shrugged. "It was pretty easy actually."
She was lying again.
Aiden rubbed his forehead. He didn't have the patience for this right now.
"Speaking of which, will you please tell me how you open that door?" he asked. "It will save me many broken bones the next time you disappear like that."
Her eyes darkened with concern as they flicked over him, searching for injuries.
Ah, see? She did care.
"Are you done yelling at me?"
"Absolutely." For now.
She glanced up at him again, gauging whether or not to trust him, he could tell.
Finally she said, "It's just a spell. And there are wards to keep evil out. And," she pointed to a large container of salt sitting on the counter. "I've been blocking the entrance with that, just for good measure."
He nodded. "Good. Good thinking, that."
"My Mom had this place built before she died. She made sure no one would be getting in here. I think she knew something like this was going to go down." Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "I just wish she'd filled me in on it."
Her sorrow washed over him, taking the edge off the last remnants of his anger with her. Unable to help himself, he moved to stand closer, standing by her side but not touching her.
To comfort her? For his own reassurance? It didn't really matter at this point.
He breathed her in, letting her now familiar scent wash over and into him, sinking all the way into his bones.
Relief flowed through him at having her near again, and then he furrowed his brow. She smelled exactly the same as she always had.
So she was lying about that also.
The little minx. Did she truly think she could fool him, a vampire, with her woman's excuse? Blood doesn't lie, and his nose was telling him that there was no evidence of her being on her menses. Which meant the emergency tampon run had just been a cover for something else entirely. And that couldn't be good.
What did you do, Grace?
Mojo, as if sensing the sudden tension in the air, started wiggling and huffing in her hand until she set him down on the floor.
"Ow. All right, all right," she told him as he bristled. "Calm down, little dude."
Aiden tried to catch her eye as she stood. But like the liar that she was, hers skittered around the room, looking anywhere but at him.
An irrational disappointment filled him.
"Where did you really go today, Grace?"
Picking imaginary lint off of her shirt, she said, "I told you."
His patience at an end, he took a firm hold of her chin and lifted her face to his.
She fastened her lovely, lying eyes somewhere in the vicinity of his left clavicle, and refused to look at him.
Aiden heaved a weary sigh. There was nothing he hated more than a liar. If she wasn't going to let him help her, why should he stay any longer? He should leave here and go home. Let her deal with all of this on her own.
But imagining her here by herself had his chest tightening with such panic, he suddenly found it hard to breathe.
Letting go of her chin, he slid his hand around to the back of her neck so she couldn't run away. With the other one, he untwisted her hair from its bun.
The silky strands tumbled over the back of his hand, and he sucked in a breath as the smell of her shampoo filled the air. He wanted to run his fingers through the mass of it and spread it out across his bare chest so he could feel all of that fragrant softness tickling his bare skin.
But one thing at a time.
Keeping a secure grip on her nape, he lowered his head ever so slowly towards hers.
The rhythm of her heart sped up more with every fraction of an inch, pounding louder and louder as he heard her blood rushing through her veins.
With fear? Or with excitement?
He stopped less than a hair's breadth from her lips.
She frowned when she realized he wasn't going to kiss her, and at long last, her wide eyes flew to his.
Now that he had her attention, he needed to make it clear to her that although he was good-natured and tended not to let the world get him down, he was no fool. If she thought she could pull the wool over his eyes that easily, she was sadly mistaken. "I don't know what it is that you're hiding, Grace France," he told her with a tight smile. "But you're hiding something from me, and I will find out what it is."
Closing the distance between them, he took her mouth in a possessive kiss. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and yanked her soft, feminine body flush against his hard one, moaning with pleasure at the feel of her against him.
She gasped at the sudden contact, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her natural sweetness.
Her hands came up between them, halfheartedly pushing him away at first. But as he continued to plunder her mouth, she finally gave up the pretense and they slid up his chest to grip his shoulders as she finally kissed him back.
He moaned again as she touched his tongue with hers. She smelled absolutely divine, and tasted even better as she gave in to his kiss and returned it with a passion that surprised him.
Her body bowed into his, attempting to get closer still, and his arms tightened around her.
Releasing her lips, he moved his hand from her nape and tangled his fingers in all of that silky hair. Pulling her head back, he exposed her throat to his heated gaze. Her blood pulsed heavily just under the thin layer of her skin, and a feral growl rose from his throat, followed by the sudden rush of her desire permeating the air, tempting him nearly beyond reason.
"Why won't you trust me, love?" he whispered throatily, his voice thick with both his sorrow and his craving for her.
She whimpered as he ran the tip of his tongue along her throbbing artery, before kissing it tenderly, careful of his fangs. Working his way down to the sweet spot between her neck and her shoulder, he splayed his other hand across her luscious ass, pulling her up and into his arousal.
"I would never hurt you, Grace," he whispered against her smooth skin.
He lifted her up until she wrapped her legs around him. Rolling his hips, he ground his hard length against her, reveling in her soft sounds of pleasure until he could stand it no longer.
Tucking her face against his shoulder, not wanting to frighten her with the evidence of his excitement, he strode to the bed.