Chapter Four

A loud bang shook the walls, the ground beneath his feet shuddered. Javed followed the others out of the door, clutching the old sword and scabbard in his hand.

His heart stuttered. He’d left her out there. He turned, running toward the door and Celina. The stone should have protected her, but fear trickled though him. It wasn’t working the way they had expected. He could hear Idris, trailing him. Swearing.

If what she said was right? It kept her connected. “Damn it! No, I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

The instant he opened the door he froze. She lay on the ground, her hair a vibrant red halo, her motionless body and the creatures around her laughing and advancing. He didn’t stop to think, to question the reason for his intense reaction. He just advanced.

Fury coursed through him as he tossed the artifact to a nearby guard and scooped up an abandoned blade from the ground. It swooped in a wicked arc, slicing and hacking. He moved faster and faster as he surged toward her.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

The men behind him followed, but all that filled his brain was the knowledge that he’d left her alone. Even though his brain told him she should have been safe. And he’d had to protect the artifact.

The creatures laughed and the rage overtook him. He dispatched them swiftly first this one then the second attacker, their faces now projecting their fear.

“She’s. Mine.” Each thrust took him closer to where she lay, still and silent on the ground.

Someone brushed past him. Idris.

Idris dropped to his knees beside Celina, his face a crumpled white mask of grief. For a moment Javed feared they’d come too late. That she was dead. The way Idris scooped her up against his chest and a pain, rather like a spear to his heart, stole his breath.

Now that the battle was done, they could leave. His injured guards limped from the relative safety of the building, but he ignored them. He stepped forward slowly and peered down at her white face. Her chest rose and fell. She lives.

He wanted to shove Idris away from Celina. He needed to take her in his arms, to hold her close against him. His fear had become an almost solid lump lodged in his chest, and he scowled, hoping to keep the emotions at bay just a little longer. But the building need was so blinding that he couldn’t control it. “She breathes yet.” Idris spoke quietly but his words carried the power to right Javed’s world.

“I’ll take her.” His command had Idris glancing at him, and in that instant he understood and accepted that his protectiveness centered on this one human. She was, indeed, his. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let Idris take her from him.

Idris might want her, but he was the one she needed. He knew it as surely as he’d felt that instantaneous connection the first time he’d seen her.

Idris stood, his face pale, holding the unconscious Celina in his arms and with thinning lips he advanced and slid her into Javed’s grasp. Javed sighed as he touched her. He could detect the slight movement as she breathed, and it comforted him—until he saw her neck and shoulders. A deep bruise was already forming at her temple, and he seethed.

“I’ll take her home with me.”

Idris bowed formally. Without a word he waited while Javed made his way toward the vehicle. One of the guards held open the door, and he climbed within, keeping her close. Idris followed stiffly and took the position opposite, his face tight. Javed stared down at Celina, noting the seeping blood above the hairline. With care, he pushed the hair away and saw a nasty cut. “She’s got a nasty laceration there. We’ll need a healer when we get to the nest.”

He heard rather than saw Idris lift the phone from the cradle and make the call. He concentrated only on Celina. The vehicle had ascended, before banking sharply. They were headed home—to their home.

The journey was swift but silent. He ignored Idris’ fulminating glare. He was master and this woman was somehow connected to him. He glanced up as the car started to drop. “Idris, go ahead and get the door for me.”

Once they had landed he carried her within, along the marble inlaid corridor to the secured doorway. He watched dimly as Idris, stiff and radiating anger, entered the code. This was a problem he would soon have to deal with, he noted, then dismissed it. It was an issue for later.

The door slid open to the secured quarters, and he strode within. Unlike his previous home, which had utilized a secured basement, the core of this building was secured with lead reinforced walls. The previous owners being more than a little concerned for their safety had built it with a larger than average panic room. It had been one of the major selling points for him. In the weeks since they had taken over the property, the reinforced walls had been extended, offering them the security they required while resting.

He reached his personal quarters at the end of the hall and nudged the door open with his shoulder, striding to his own bed ignoring the lush furnishings reminiscent of his own past. He flung aside the jewel toned cushions to make space for her. The bleeding from her head wounds had stopped in the vehicle, but she hadn’t yet regained consciousness.

“Shouldn’t she have…come to by now?” The concerned tones of Idris’ voice grated, and Javed had to control the bubble of anger that inhabited his chest.

“Where’s Kharisma?”

“Master, I’m here.” Kharisma, the nest healer and his one-time lover, entered the room and headed for the bed. “What happened?” She squatted down beside the bed, her medical bag thudding on the floor.

He briefly recounted their experiences, and she clicked her tongue. “Well before we do anything else, let’s clean her up so I can check that cut on her scalp.” Then Kharisma set to work.

* * * *

“Ooh.” Celina woke in darkness. Her entire body ached, and her head pounded. For a moment, disorientation threatened. Maybe the weeks before had been a dream, but when a sound roused her and a light flared, she could tell that wasn’t so.

Javed knelt beside her. “I’m glad you’ve woken.”

She winced—even in the quiet his words pounded through her brain. “Where am I?”

“My rooms.”

She started, and the percussion instruments in her head drummed louder. A moan escaped.

“You’re in pain. Let me get you something.” He left quickly. She wanted to call him back. She wanted to get out of his rooms. Simultaneous thoughts came and went, but she lay still, well aware that in her current state she was probably lucky if she could even crawl out of the bed unaided.

Javed returned, a glass of water and two small tablets in his hand. “Take these. Kharisma said they should help.”

He slipped one hand beneath her, supporting her, and the shock of skin on skin made her jerk and gasp at once.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh nothing. I’m just… I’m naked.” Her voice wobbled, and she looked away.

“Well, not quite. Kharisma didn’t think you’d be comfortable, so she left your underwear on.” He nudged her hand. “Take the pills. You’ll feel better for it.”

Wordlessly she accepted them, slipped them into her mouth then gulped the water.

Javed helped her to lie back down. She gripped the covers tightly, making sure that she was totally covered.

“Why wasn’t I taken to my own room?” Her voice sounded strangled and for a moment silence reigned.

She turned slowly to peer at him and, for the first time since waking, saw hunger in his eyes. “I couldn’t let you go.”

Celina shrank back. “Uh look, you know… I’m not easy. I don’t just fall into bed with any guy. So if you could just pass me my clothes, I’ll get out of your way.”

No way was she going to fall into bed with him. He might be sexy, handsome, and the most perfect man she’d ever met, but she had no intentions of putting out. Besides which he is a vampire—a master vampire at that. Aren’t there rules about that?

She pushed at the covers, grunting a little as the aches in her arms and shoulders made themselves known.

He stepped back to give her room as she stood with a wobble.

She remembered too late that she was all but naked—her breasts were barely covered by the lacy white bra. Celina had to stop the reflex action of curling her arms around herself—instead she gripped the mattress, grateful for the support.

But she felt her face flame in embarrassment.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” His softly spoken words were firm, and she felt chilled.

“I can come and go at will.” Her stomach churned, and she swayed a little before locking her legs to keep herself upright and still.

“You wouldn’t make it across the room, and none of my people will enter without my permission. And they’ve all retired for the day. Now be a good girl and get back into the bed.”

His gaze raked over her. Little fires licked at her wherever he focused. She had to hold back the moan that rose in her throat. There was a distinct tightening of her muscles, except down below where heat began to pool, softening her deep inside. She locked her legs together against the unfamiliar sensations.

“Oh, and I don’t intend taking advantage of you. I only take willing and conscious women to my bed. Vampire or human.”

With those words, he turned away and left her wobbling uncertainly by the side of the bed.

But her body continued to tingle, and for the first time, a sense of something missing in her life assailed her. She slumped down to the bed, a hiss of pain escaping, and dropped her head into her hands. “What the hell have I got myself into?”

He stalked out of the room. Anger warred with desire. He raked his hands through his hair. Celina thinks I only want to have sex with her?

Javed stilled, coping with the emotional backlash. Well, on one level she’s right, he agreed. But the situation wasn’t exactly cut and dried, was it? I want more than that.

That was the crux of his problem. He didn’t really know how much more. What could he hope for? “What would she be prepared to have with me? If anything?” There were no answers for him. Not now.

In the centuries after he’d become a vampire, he’d seen the reaction of women to him and his kind. They had been distinctly bi-polar. He’d been shunned, and called everything from the devil’s spawn to evil incarnate. Others had just wanted the sex with the damned experience, which held no interest for him.

The last woman he’d had any kind of loving and long-lasting relationship with had run away from him. Losing his wife that way had scarred him. He’d loved Anisa truly, and she had proclaimed to feel the same. However, when it had come to making a choice to stand by her claim, Anisa had abandoned him. Feared him. Hated him.

“I can’t love you! You aren’t my Javed. He was God-fearing. You are some creature wearing his skin. Evil to the core.”

She’d glared at him with hate, her eyes glowing in the firelight. Then she’d thrown things at him, pushed through the door and run.

Left him standing there. Alone. He hadn’t followed her. After all, she’d said everything there was to say.

“Doesn’t matter. She’s been gone a long time.” Eight hundred years alone with only a casual interlude here and his future stretched out in front of him. But he’d felt strongly that an eternity alone was the price he had to pay for a decision he hadn’t even made himself.

Seeing Xavier and Hope together had loosened the restraints on his hungry heart. He knew that maybe he could wish for more. He turned away from those thoughts.

The battle for Acre, all those years ago, had been fierce and protracted. Dirty. Smelly. But he couldn’t escape the memories that cascaded.

They’d won the battle, beaten back the knights and Christians from the final part of Jerusalem. The celebrations had worn on for days, with many partaking in drink and women, lost in the high of the aftermath of the battle. Many had been uncaring that their behavior went against their own teachings.

He hadn’t. Instead, he’d remained sober, helped to keep the peace. He’d protected the women who had been accosted on the streets. Rounded up the children and found them safe places to wait out the celebrations and rowdiness.

On the fourth day, he’d entered the tavern, seeking nothing more than his friends, ready to drag them away from the evils of drink.

One of the knights had hidden in the tavern when the others had left. The knight had embraced something more insidious than his violent form of Christianity. He’d learned of the darker ways. The knight was no longer human and had wrought his revenge on the invaders, slowly imbibing on those gathered there while they were lost in the bottom of their cups. Not enough to kill them, just enough to feed his hunger.

When Javed had entered, he’d seen the creature. He’d fought valiantly. But the creature had been strong and fast. Then he’d sunk his fangs into Javed, feeding. But the final blow from the vampire had weakened him. The knight-creature had torn into his own wrist and shared his blood.

No one in the tavern had survived the night. Neither had he or his soul.

He probably should send Celina away. “I can’t.” The words were quiet in the stillness. He let them grow. Javed accepted the truth in his utterance.

He knew that Hope and Xavier would be happy to take her on. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let her go. Seeing her on the ground had made something deep within him claw its way to the surface.

Javed grabbed the phone. “Celina will need clothes in my rooms. Get Bertha to grab some for you.”

“Yes, master.” Damn. Idris. Things would be uncomfortable around here if he remained. The new nest had to find its equilibrium, but the master and his second both coping with feelings for one woman would upset that. The situation would need careful handling.

“She’ll need sustenance too. Have the food brought to my rooms. Then, Idris? We need to talk.”

His stomach curled. The man was honorable. But they had little in common. Idris was young—eager to climb his way up to become a master at the next possible opportunity. But he was still little more than a pup.

With that thought came the knowledge that he wasn’t young. Neither in body nor spirit. He was jaded and weary. Hundreds of years of battle and loneliness had taken their toll on him. On his spirit.

“Yes, master.” The words interrupted his introspection. Lost deep within his own mind again, never a good place to be.

He carefully placed the receiver back into the cradle and stood, waiting for the knock he knew would come. He didn’t have to wait long.

After knocking and being bidden to enter, Kharisma entered the room with a smile and a basket of clothing and a tray of foods, which she laid on the table beside the door. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve come to some kind of conclusion.” He grimaced at her words. “There’s the food and clothing you requested for Celina.” She laughed. It was rich and throaty sounding. It lightened his mood. “You know, Bertha doesn’t say much. The only thing she did share was that Celina is a good woman. I interpret that to say don’t hurt her.”

He held his breath, unsure where this conversation was going. “So?”

“So, I would have said something similar to that. You’re a good man, Javed. You deserve to be happy. Even when we were together, though, I knew it wasn’t forever. There was too much loneliness in you for me to fill.” She coughed lightly. “I hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you know me. Can’t keep my mouth closed.” She surged forward and clasped her arms around him. The hug was brief but welcome. “Now you need to go to bed. And so do I. Eamon will be waiting. I’ll check the patient tomorrow evening.”

Then she was gone, leaving him standing in the room, focusing on the tray and basket she’d brought with her.

When Javed re-entered the bedroom, he braced himself for another onslaught of anger, but instead she’d curled up in the center of the bed, crying. The bruises on her body sickened him. The purples and reds marred her pale skin.

He didn’t dare study any lower. He’d already seen the fine white lace she wore. Marveled at how the fabric made her seem so fragile but enticing. His mouth dried.

He felt helpless. What did he say to this woman? How could he put her at her ease? How could he make her understand that he didn’t want to use her?

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry.” Her words were muffled, and they ripped a hole deep inside the ice that encased his heart. She lifted her head, and he was struck by the shimmering emerald of her eyes. Tears had slid down her face, leaving glistening tracks.

He moved without thought, sitting down on the side, the mattress dipping a little. “We all make mistakes. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean to.” He shrugged, feeling foolish sitting there in his stained clothing while she wore only her underwear and the marks they’d inflicted on her.

He knew nothing of soothing or settling. Nothing of calming. After all, he was a fighter.

He was a warrior. In life, he’d been a soldier for his ruler against the incursions of the Christians. As a vampire, he was still a warrior. He fought for the Council and the protection of the innocents.

He released a frustrated sigh, realizing he couldn’t give her the softness she no doubt craved. Javed made to rise.

She reached out then grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t… Please don’t go.” Her voice carried pain and fear and right now all he wanted to do was take her in his arms. She was in pain and still she apologized. He closed his eyes, and she released her grip.

“Oh God! I’m making a fool of myself.” He heard the whisper and even as she jerked away, he carefully took her hand.

“No. You’re not making a fool of yourself. Please, be peaceful. I should have known better than to bring you here. But I can’t let you go, not yet. It’s daytime, and the secure quarters are locked down until nightfall. If you will get back under the covers, I’ll bring you the food that has been prepared.”

She watched him as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. He felt as if he was being weighed and measured. What would she find?

“Thank you.”

He turned away and heard her moving, slowly. She had to be uncomfortable, but he didn’t know what to do for her. So he waited as she scrambled back, huddling beneath the sheets. When he was sure she was covered he headed to the other room to collect the tray and clothing.

On his return, he noted that she was covered, with the bedding tucked firmly under her arms. It strained across the bountiful mounds of her breasts, and the pumping of blood through his veins took on a louder quality. The rest of his body also reacted. He breathed deeply. Instead he could smell her scent in the air. His body hardened further.

“Here is the food.” He moved slowly and carefully lowered the tray to her lap, concentrating on her face. She blushed slightly, the pink tinge cresting her cheeks. Her breathing sped up, and he could hear the thud of her heartbeat. It was racing.

“Thank you, master.” She whispered the words before she ran her tongue over her lips as if they were sandpaper dry.

The moisture in his mouth dried. He wanted her.

She grabbed his hands as he made to shift away. “You saved me from them. I saw you.”

He chanced to gaze into her eyes. “I did what I had to do.”

She nodded, and averted her eyes. Damn! It wasn’t right that she should glance away. “I… Yes. I understand that.” She turned away, and it hurt.

“I saw what they did to you. I left you alone. To face them.” The rage grew once more, chasing away the desire.

“The stone should have protected me.”

He clenched his teeth so hard that they ground together. “But it didn’t. And you are damaged because of it.”

She must have heard the self-recrimination in his voice because when she looked back to him, there was shock on her face. Her eyes widened. He was entranced by her beauty. The clarity of her eyes and the fine purity of her skin intrigued him. “But you are the master. You must ensure the protection of everyone. And I should have been okay.”

“No!” The word burst forth. “I should have protected you.” Unable to withstand the caustic rage he felt at himself, he leaned in. “I. Should. Have. Protected. You.”

Close. So close, he could taste her breath. He gave in as they leaned together and their lips touched—a glance of flesh on flesh.