His Dark Embrace

“Do the werewolves—are there more than one?”

“A few more.”

“Do they have to ask your permission to stay here, too?”

“Yep. Vampires are at the top of the food chain, so to speak, followed by demons and werewolves, then fairies and goblins and ogres, then ...”

“Fairies? Goblins? Ogres? I don’t believe you.”

He grinned at her. “Okay, I made up the goblins and the ogres.”

“And the fairies?”

“No, they exist, or so I’m told. I’ve never met one.”

Sky looked out the window, her mind filling with images of cartoon fairies—the three who looked after Sleeping Beauty, cute little Tinker Bell flitting around Neverland, and the lovely Blue Fairy who turned Pinocchio into a real boy. Did actual fairies look anything like their cartoon counterparts? That they could even be real was inconceivable but she couldn’t deny she had a burning desire to see one.

Minutes later, Thorne pulled up in front of her house and cut the engine. “Get whatever you need and then we’ll go to my place.”

“What? Oh, right. I forgot we’re staying with you.”

Thorne followed her into the house and up the stairs, stood in the bedroom doorway while she threw a nightgown and a change of clothes into a small bag, along with her hairbrush, toothbrush, and makeup. Going downstairs, she tossed in a magazine and a paperback book.

“I guess I’m ready,” she said.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything? I don’t want you coming back here alone tomorrow.”

She glanced around the room, her expression thoughtful, and then she went into the kitchen. She found a cardboard box and began filling it with foodstuffs. “I’ll need to go to the store tomorrow night. I’m almost out of milk.”

“Will you need anything else before then?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She added a box of hot chocolate and a bag of mini marshmallows. “I’ve got all the necessities.”

Thorne stared at the box of hot chocolate. He could just barely remember what it had tasted like—warm and rich and smooth. But it wasn’t cocoa he was thirsty for at the moment. He lifted his gaze to the woman who was rummaging through one of the cupboards. Her blood was also warm and rich and smooth.

She turned to face him, a loaf of bread in her hand. Whatever she had been about to say was forgotten when she saw the look in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “You have your favorite drink, and I have mine.”

“You haven’t fed yet, have you?”

“No. I’ll wait until Sam gets back.”

Sky dropped the bread into the box. “You don’t have to go out, Kaiden,” she said, and taking him by the hand, she led him into the living room. Sitting on the sofa, she pulled him down beside her, then tilted her head to the side.

“Sky, you don’t have to ...”

She pressed her fingertips to his lips, stilling his words. “Shh, I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. It feels wonderful, you know.”

“So they say.” He stroked her nape. “It’s been a long time since Cassandra fed on me.”

“Don’t vampires drink from each other?”

“Rarely.” Leaning forward, he rained kisses along the length of her neck, ran his tongue over the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat before claiming her lips with his.

Her nearness flooded his senses—the floral shampoo she used to wash her hair, the musky scent of her desire, the taste of her toothpaste, the satiny smoothness of her skin beneath his hand, the warmth of her breasts pressed against his chest. And over all, the beating of her heart. His arms tightened around her as his hunger roared to life. His whole being ached for her, ached to possess her completely, to drink her life and her memories, to gorge himself on the crimson elixir that flowed through her veins, to drink and drink until he had taken it all.

With a hoarse cry, he lowered his head to her neck, his need at war with his self-control.

His need won. His fangs pierced the tender skin below her ear and he lost himself in the taste of her life’s blood as it flowed ever so sweetly over his tongue. But only for a moment. His concern for Sky was strong, stronger, even, than his thirst. Taking a firm hold on his self-control, he lifted his head and let her go.

She blinked up at him, a faint smile on her lips, her gaze slightly unfocused. “It feels so good. Why did you stop?”

“Because you don’t want to be what I am.” Standing, he put some distance between them.

Skylynn stared at him, no longer smiling. Had he been that close to taking too much? Could it happen that quickly? What if there came a time when he couldn’t stop?

Needing to put more distance between them, Thorne went to the far side of the room and turned his back toward her while his fangs retracted.

“Kaiden?”

“What?”

“Are you all right?”

He snorted softly. “That’s a good question, only I’m the one who should be asking it. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She lifted a hand to her neck. The skin beneath her ear felt warm. She could feel the marks his bite had left, but they never lasted very long. By tomorrow morning, they would be completely gone. Odd, that. In the movies, the bites didn’t go away. Curious, she asked him about it.

“It’s just a movie myth,” he replied flatly. “Some vampires feed repeatedly on the same donors. Think how those people would look after a month or so if the bites didn’t disappear.”

Remembering what she had read on the Internet, she asked, “What about garlic?”

“What about it?”

“Does it repel you?”

He turned to face her, his expression impassive. “It stinks but it won’t protect you.”

“I’m not looking for protection, Kaiden. I’m just curious. I still have a lot to learn about what’s true and what’s Hollywood hype.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about crosses?”

He shrugged. “I like the old-fashioned ones.”

“What about holy water? And silver?”

“They burn.”

She nodded, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall the other things she had read. “Running water. One of the Web sites said you couldn’t cross it.”

“That’s another fable. I don’t have to sleep in a coffin, although it doesn’t bother me to do so. I don’t need to rest on my native soil. If someone throws a sack of wheat at me, I don’t have to stop and count every kernel. Anything else?”