A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark 2)

As she peered up at him through the rain, he examined her with eyes that were golden in color one moment, then flickering that eerie blue the next. No, not human.

Up close, she could see his features were even, masculine. A strong chin and jaw complemented the chiseled planes. He was beautiful, so much so that she thought he had to be a fallen angel. Possible. How could she rule out anything?

The hand that had been covering her mouth roughly grasped her chin. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on her lips - on her barely noticeable fangs. "No," he choked out. "No' possible..." He yanked her head side to side, running his face down her neck, smelling her, then growled in fury, "Goddamn you."

When his eyes turned blue sharply, she cried out, her breath seeming to leave her body.

"Can you trace?" he grated as though speech was difficult. "Answer me!"

She shook her head, uncomprehending. Tracing was how vampires teleported, disappearing and reappearing in thin air. Then he knows I'm a vampire?

"Can you?"

"N-no." She'd never been strong or skilled enough. "Please." She blinked against the rain, pleading with her eyes. "You have the wrong woman."

"Think I'd know you. Make sure, if you insist." He raised a hand - to touch her? Strike her? She fought, hissing desperately.

A callused palm grasped the back of her neck, his other hand clenching her wrists as he bent down to her neck. Her body jerked from the feel of his tongue against her skin. His mouth was hot in the chill, wet air, making her shudder until her muscles knotted. He groaned while kissing her, his hand squeezing her wrists hard. Below her skirt, drops of rain tracked down her thighs, shocking her with cold.

"Don't do this! Please..." When her last word ended with a whimper, he seemed to come out of a trance, his brows drawing together as his eyes met hers, but he didn't release her hands.

He flicked his claw down her blouse and sliced it and the flimsy bra beneath open, then slowly brushed the halves past her br**sts. She struggled, but it was useless against his strength. He studied her with a greedy gaze as rain splattered down, stinging her naked br**sts. She was shivering uncontrollably.

His pain was so sharp it nauseated her. He could take her or he could tear open her unprotected belly and kill her...

Instead he ripped open his own shirt, then placed his huge palms against her back to draw her to his chest. He groaned when their skin touched, and electricity seemed to flash through her. Lightning split the sky.

He rumbled foreign words against her ear. She felt they were...tender words, making her think she'd lost her mind. She went limp, her arms hanging while he shuddered against her, his lips so hot in the pouring rain as he ran them down her neck, across her face, even brushing them over her eyelids. There he knelt, clutching her; there she lay, boneless and dazed, as she watched the lightning slash above them.

His hand cradled the back of her head as he moved her to face him.

He seemed torn as he watched her with some fierce emotion - she'd never been looked at so...consumingly. Confusion overwhelmed her. Would he attack or let her go? Let me go...

A tear slipped down her face, warmth streaking down amidst the drops of rain.

The look disappeared. "Blood for tears?" he roared, clearly revolted by her pink tears. He turned away as if he couldn't stand to look upon her, then blindly swatted at her shirt to close it. "Take me to your home, vampire."

"I-I don't live here," she said in a strangled tone, staggered by what had just occurred, and by the fact that he knew what she was.

"Take me to where you stay," he ordered, finally facing her as he stood before her.

"No," she amazed herself by saying.

He, too, looked surprised. "Because you doona want me to stop? Good. I'll take you here on the grass on your hands and knees" - he lifted her easily until she was kneeling - "till well after the sun rises."

He must have seen her resignation because he hauled her to her feet and pushed at her to get her moving. "Who stays with you?"

My husband, she wanted to snap. The linebacker who's going to kick your ass. Yet she couldn't lie, even now, and never would have had the nerve to provoke him anyway. "I am alone."

"Your man lets you travel by yourself?" he asked over the downpour. His voice was beginning to sound human again. When she didn't answer, he said with a sneer, "You've a careless male for yourself. His loss."

She stumbled in a pothole and he gently steadied her, then seemed angry with himself that he'd helped her. But when he led them in front of a car a moment later, he threw her out of the way, leaping back at the sound of the horn. He swiped at the side of the car, claws crumpling the metal like tinfoil, sending it skidding. When it finally stopped, the engine block dropped to the street with a thud. The driver threw open the door, dived for the street, then darted away.

Mouth open in shock, she frantically scrambled backward, realizing her captor looked as though he'd...never seen a car.

He crossed to her, looming over her. In a low, deadly tone, he grated, "I only hope you run from me again."

He snatched her hand and again lifted her to her feet. "How much farther?"

With a limp finger, she pointed out the Crillon on Place de la Concorde.

He gave her a look of pure hatred. "Your kind always had money." His tone was scathing. "Nothing's changed." He knew she was a vampire. Did he know who or what her aunts were? He must - otherwise how could Regin have known to warn her about him? How could he know her coven was well-off?

After ten minutes of her being dragged across avenues, they pushed past the doorman of the hotel, garnering stares as they entered the palatial lobby. At least the lights were dimmed. She pulled her soaked jacket over her ruined blouse and kept her head down, thankful that she'd braided her hair over her ears.