Blood Destiny (25 page)

Jocelyn glared at him, her fuse running short. "This isn't a game, Willie." She turned to stare angrily at her...partner.

"I've been...hunting...human traffickers all this time, while 233

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the two of you have been hunting...vampires! And using me as bait! What if I had gotten killed out here?"

Willie took a step closer to the fire and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. The flames reflected back in his muddy brown eyes. "And what if I'd gotten killed givin' up info on the traffickers? I don't remember you gettin' all worried about me, cop."

Jocelyn shook her head, clearly disgusted. "You're wrong, Willie. I have always protected my sources."

Willie smiled a sly, mischievous grin. "Well, you don't look any worse for the wear, Levi." His eyes met Tristan's. "You two good? Or did I walk in on somethin'?"

Tristan smiled and looked Jocelyn up and down. "No, we're good. We're real good."

Jocelyn sneered. "What about the trafficking ring, Tristan?

The women...the dead bodies...the suspect we've been investigating for the last several months? Was I way out in left field with that whole thing as well?"

"Actually, no," Tristan answered, matter-of-factly. "In fact, you were dead on with that whole investigation: Luca Giovanni was running a human trafficking organization. And he was selling the women for slaughter...but just not to some sick human psychopath. He was selling them to vampires without even knowing what they were. Luca knew some of the girls were being murdered, but he had no idea his clients were—"

"A bunch of blood-sucking ghouls." Willie spit into the fire, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up toward the front window. "This storm is lookin' real bad, 234

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Tristan. We're gonna need to hold up a night or two before we do any serious hunting."

Tristan's eyes narrowed as he frowned at his cohort. "I think we'll manage to stay warm...somehow." His voice was heavy with sarcasm, and his eyes held a hint of menace.

Jocelyn winced. "You guys aren't going anywhere tonight, are you?"

A heavy wind picked up outside the cabin and began to howl so fiercely that it muted Tristan's voice as eddies of icy snow whipped against the window-pane like small handfuls of pebbles being thrown against the glass. Jocelyn only heard the last three words.... "We hunt tonight." But the tone of Tristan's voice was absolute.

She swallowed her anger and tried to maintain her calm.

Nathaniel and his brothers would not be easily defeated by the likes of Tristan Hart and Willie Jackson—that was for sure.

She needed to keep her wits about her and find a way out of her own predicament. And the fact that they were going...hunting...was probably to her advantage: It might be her only opportunity to escape. Even as her mind thought it, her heart had a hard time believing it. Tristan. Her partner.

Now her greatest threat.

Jocelyn shook her head. She needed a moment alone.

Some space. An opportunity to think. "Does the water run in this place?"

"Sure," Tristan answered. "Why?"

"Because I'd like to go take a shower." She hesitated then, waiting to see how Tristan would react. Waiting to see just how strict her confinement was.

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When he didn't respond, she pressed on. "I'm freezing, Tristan. I need to warm up."

Tristan nodded and walked over to a tall birch armoire that stood at the entrance to the hall. He pulled a large bath towel and a travel bag of toiletries out of the upper cabinet and tossed them to Jocelyn. "First door on the left. You have to let the water run for a few minutes to flush the pipes."

Jocelyn nodded and tried to fake a smile of appreciation.

The more room Tristan allowed her, the better. Resisting his authority would only get her tied up or handcuffed to a chair somewhere. She was better off playing on their old partnership as long as she could.

"Thank you, Tristan," she said. Her voice was flat, but at least she managed to get the words out.

Tristan shrugged, and then he moved his hard, muscular body to the center of the hallway and blocked her path. As she stopped in front of him, he looked her straight in the eye, refusing to blink. "Joss, understand this: You are with me now. Nathaniel isn't coming to get you. Not tonight. Not ever.

And as much as you might resent me for all of this...one day you're going to thank me. So don't try anything, partner—we can do this the easy way or the hard way—and you know me well enough to understand what that means."

Jocelyn shoved at his chest, ducked under his arm, and quickly walked by, careful to hide her mounting fear. "I understand, Tristan...."

She knew exactly what he meant.

"We'll figure it out later. Right now, I'm going to take a shower. And you have my word...I won't try anything."

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Joelle Parker had just snuggled under the warm goose-down comforter at the Dark Moon Lodge when she heard a heavy knock at the door. She sat up quietly and listened, her senses fully alert.

The women in the Parker family had been rounded up and ushered to the lodge along with all the women and children of the Lighter vampires, the round-up taking place less than an hour ago...right before an early, freak winter storm had begun to blow into the valley.

Being human, Joelle had not been given so much as a cursory explanation as to what was going on, but it had only taken one glance at the sentinels—the three fearsome Olaru brothers, who stood like splendid Greek statues at the base of the stairway just outside the lodge entrance—to let her know that whatever was going on...it was serious. And she needed to follow orders. The lobby had been full of warriors.

Joelle sighed and held her breath, hoping whoever was at the door would just go away. Ever since the night Marquis had frightened her half to death—the night he had rejected her—the last thing she wanted to see was a lodge full of female destinies and their children: mated women who were loved and cherished by males like Marquis.

Women who had not only been wanted...but chosen.

It was like having a knife thrust into her heart over and over, every time she saw a wife smile or heard a husband say good-bye, but her family was one of the few that had 238

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established a long, loyal partnership with the descendants of Jadon—and she could not have refused the order to take shelter at the lodge even if she had wanted to.

The knock came again, louder this time, and then she heard a deep, melodious voice: "Joelle? Joelle...are you in there?"

Joelle's heart stopped beating in her chest and the air left her body. Her stomach did a funny flip as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, listening attentively, trying to identify the voice.

It couldn't be....

One more loud, insistent knock: "Joelle, can I come in?"

There was no mistaking that voice—Marquis Silivasi.

Joelle slid deep beneath the comforter, knowing that Marquis could materialize through the wall at any moment.

She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to see him...whether or not she could withstand any further humiliation...but then, he had to have come for a reason. Was he concerned about her welfare? She didn't dare hope.

Joelle adjusted the straps on the pale satin nightgown she was wearing and quickly ran her fingers through her hair. Oh hell, it was dark as midnight in the room. It wasn't like he could see her anyhow.

"Marquis?" she called, knowing he could hear her no matter how faint her voice. "Is that you?"

"Yes," he answered.

Her heart skipped another beat. This just wasn't happening. "What do you want?"

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She heard him knock again—lightly this time. "Open the door, Joelle. I need to see you."

Joelle swallowed hard, her heart pounding so loud she was afraid he would hear it. "Okay...just hold on." Her voice was shaky.

Marquis knocked again. "Joelle...I need you to invite me in."

Joelle paused for a moment then, confused. Why didn't he just materialize through the wall? "You can come in without me answering the door, can't you?" She didn't want to leave the safety of the covers—however false the sense of security.

What if he hadn't come out of concern? What if he had decided to fire her, after all?

"Not this time, sweetheart," he answered. His voice was a soft caress. "I need you to invite me in."

Joelle's eyes opened wide. Sweetheart. Had Marquis Silivasi just called her sweetheart?

She slowly pulled back the covers, her hands shaking. She checked her posture in the small oval mirror mounted just inside the doorway and peeked through the peephole. His image was blurred, but she would know those strong shoulders and that wild mane of raven black hair anywhere.

Trembling, she unlatched the lock and pulled open the door.

Marquis leaned back in the door frame...looking sexy as silk...as he stared at her with something she had never seen before in his eyes. "So, are you going to invite me in or not?"

he drawled. The statement was deliberately provocative.

Sinful. Dangerous.

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Joelle gestured toward the room, but he didn't budge.

Nervously, she cleared her throat. "Will you please come in?"

She gave him the formal invitation he seemed so insistent upon having.

With that, he smiled a wicked grin and sauntered into the room.

Joelle noticed that there was nothing soft or impersonal in the way he moved: His demeanor with her had changed.

"I needed to see for myself that you were safe," he told her.

Joelle swallowed hard. "You did?"

"Of course, I did," he purred. His eyes softened to a dark, misty hue, illuminating the hard-lines of his cheek-bones, and then, to her utter amazement, he brushed the tops of his fingers along the underside of her jaw and simply stared into her eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up in a sinful smile.

Joelle felt butterflies in her stomach, and her knees weakened beneath her. "M...Mar...quis," she stuttered,

"wh...what...are you doing here?"

Marquis strode further into the room and removed his snow-dusted jacket, laying it carelessly over the back of a chair. There was just enough moonlight to cast an enchanting shadow over the large, king-size mattress—a celestial spotlight beckoning to lovers.

"Did you mean what you said the other night?" he asked.

Joelle stared like a schoolgirl...utterly transfixed by his masculine beauty. "Yes...every word."

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He reached out and clutched the small of her waist, his strong hands pulling her body beneath the hard frame of his own. "And you would let me...love you...even knowing it couldn't last forever?"

Joelle felt her spine soften like warm butter as he held her tight against the solid perfection of his chest. She was acutely aware of the feel of her breasts against him...satin pressed to steel.

"Yes," she whispered, unable to look him in the eye for fear he might vanish—for fear it wouldn't be real.

He nuzzled his head into the small of her neck, deeply inhaling her scent. She could feel his fangs lengthening as he scraped them...oh so gently...across her throat.

Her stomach clenched, and she felt an answering ache deep inside her core. She exhaled then, allowing herself to take in the fullness of the moment—the miracle of a dream come true.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his voice pure seduction.

Joelle's heart did a strange pitter-patter as excitement, fear, and desire began to coalesce into a warm heat that radiated at the juncture between her legs. Her breasts started to feel heavy...to ache...and her nipples became erect as a sure hand swept greedily beneath the straps of her gown...cupping and massaging her soft flesh.

Marquis swept the pads of his thumbs across the hard peaks, caressing them in lazy, gentle circles... "And being lovers is enough for you?" he whispered.

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Joelle nodded, breathless, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"However we can be together, Marquis." Of course, she wanted more. Everything. All of him. But she would take whatever she could get, and she didn't care how pathetic that sounded.

All at once, he put her away from him, his hands gripping her shoulders in a strong, unyielding grasp, as he met her stare head-on: "Be sure, Joelle." His eyes were dark with lust, his pupils burning like red-hot embers. "Because there is no turning back."

He glanced down at her breasts and let out a long, aching sigh. "Once I start...I won't be able to stop."

Joelle took Marquis's words into her heart like a sponge absorbing water...and simply held them there, treasuring the moment. "I would never ask you to."

An erotic growl escaped his throat. "I am not a gentle man, Joelle. I am not...as you are."

Joelle reached up and stroked his handsome, angular jaw, melting at the sight of his unbelievably edible...perfect lips. "I know precisely who you are, Marquis." She smiled, but she knew her anxiety showed.

Marquis stepped back then and gestured toward the bed.

"Then lie down for me, Joelle." The command was implicit, leaving no room for refusal.

Joelle was surprised...aroused...afraid.

Experiencing all three emotions at once.

Hesitantly, she crawled onto the bed and turned to face him, kneeling with the silk of her gown bunched up in a satin pool around her knees.

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The air in his lungs rushed out in a deep, throaty moan.

"Let me see you," he commanded, his eyes slowly scanning her body from head to toe. "Now."