Embracing Midnight (16 page)

One of his hands slid into her hair. Claiming a mass of her thick locks, he gently tugged her head back. “Tomorrow, you’ll belong to them. And tomorrow I would have to kill you.”

Body held captive by his powerful hands, she gasped at the sheer primitive male power he exuded. Her whole body trembled and she completely forgot she was supposed to be afraid. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow.” A wedge of air stuck in her throat, forcing her voice to hoarseness. “I want you tonight.”

Silence.

She sensed the hesitation in him.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he murmured.

“I know.”

“It won’t happen again.” He traced his lips over her cheek to her mouth. “I’ll die first.”

His mouth sealed his words with a kiss. His palm anchored her head as his mouth gave her the connection they both so desperately sought. They came together, at first tentatively, then with more force as passion flooded through them. Long and hot, yet also sweet and warm. Through the vibrations passing between them, Callie felt his hunger and yearning.

She wanted him like crazy. Even up against the wall in a burned-out building would do. She didn’t care. “I need you,” she whispered into his mouth, almost frantic to feel him inside her.

“I need you, too. Desperately.”

Her fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him toward her neck. “More than blood?” she breathed.

He groaned against the soft pulse in her throat. “More than my life.”

Pushing her jacket off, he tugged her T-shirt out of her jeans, lifting it up over her breasts. The fabric of her bra did little to conceal her swollen nipples, aching for the slow sweet torment of a male mouth. Heat pooled between her thighs, cream wetting the crotch of her panties.

With a smooth, confident move he pushed her sports bra up halfway over her breasts so her nipples were exposed, protruding prominently from the binding of tight material around her body. “I’ve missed these.” He lowered his mouth to taste her, exploring one tight peak with his eager tongue.

The gesture obliterated all sanity in Callie’s head. He suckled gently, then harder until ripples of pleasure left her breathless and quivering.

She reveled in the sensation he ignited in her body. “Feels wonderful.” Her breath rasped softly but urgently over her tender lips.

He tweaked one rosy tip. “I know what you crave.” He kissed her again, his mouth lingering over her lips, tongue caressing their soft outline. “Tell me you missed my cock.”

She smiled. “I missed your cock.”

“Good.” He plundered her mouth, ravishing her lips until they were swollen from his licks and suckling. Pleasure, undiluted and pure, coursed through her.

Her hands explored the durable ridges of his body, finding him, rubbing him through his tight jeans. The soft moan of pleasure he gave drowned out all the little voices in her head, voices that cautioned her to stop, put her hands on his chest and push him away.

She couldn’t.

The alarm in the back of her mind went blissfully silent. Everything came to a standstill. They exchanged a silent, intimate look. How this might end, what would come of it, she didn’t care. There were no yesterdays, no tomorrows, no grief. Now was the only time that mattered, the heat of the moment.

She raked her lip with her bottom teeth as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands shook with nerves. Her only awareness was the intense pleasure of sliding her hands over his bare chest. His hands were on her hips, holding her against his erection. She felt the tension in his fingers as he gripped her, and then he was caressing her, tracing her narrow waist, cupping her breasts.

He surrounded each nipple with five adept fingers, teasing them expertly. The fire of lust lit his penetrating gaze. “I can’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on your body.”

Callie moaned as his fingers and thumbs came together, the dusky tips locked between them. “Even though you shared me with your brothers.”

“They had their taste, but no more.” He squeezed the stiff nubs. Darts shot through her, striking crucial nerve endings. Need overcame reason. All her defenses crashed down around her feet. “I won’t share you again.” He started kissing down her neck, lazily running his tongue against her skin.

Callie reveled in the feel of his lips on her anxious skin. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t care. She needed him more than she needed oxygen, more than she needed life itself.

Somehow her clothes melted away, leaving her deliciously naked to his skimming hands. His clothes, too, vanished, revealing the length of his magnificent male body, all solid planes and eager flesh. He was inflexible, thick and throbbing with need.

He pressed her back into darkness, as cool and soft as silk. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes glowing with an unearthly splendor. His hands drifted over her body, touching, exploring, going lower until he found the hot, slick junction between her thighs. His fingers rubbed her clit before he slid between her creamy folds, stroking back and forth until she ached for total completion.

Swaying as if in a trance, her vision blurred. From a faraway distance, she imagined she heard a low rhythmic chanting. The flow of blood through her veins sounded strongly in her ears, a muffled throbbing seeming to entwine with the mystical words of an ancient race filling the air.

For a moment she felt as though she were rising, expanding toward the ceiling above her head, passing through it to touch far-flung moons. Her soul fluttered in an invisible breeze, a wraith of energy shimmering. Stars glimmered around her, a million candles flickering in an endless eternity where time and space ceased to exist.

Suddenly, her senses shifted and light and sound seemed to fuse, twisting and contorting into an indescribable blending of her pulse and the hot darkness of the vampire’s heart.

His for the taking.

Basking in the glow of his dazzling gaze, she felt like a goddess, the holy mother of all that was beautiful, lush, and fertile.

Iollan’s mouth covered hers even as his cock pressed for entry between her spread thighs. She opened wider, angling her hips to encourage his entry. Her moans increased in demand and urgency.

He didn’t disappoint, gliding deep inside with a solid thrust. His cock stretched every inch until there was no more to offer. Their bodies melded into one, fitting together perfectly. They were one, at last.

Her breath came quick and shallow. “God, that’s perfect.” Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders as he plunged and plundered. They moved together, her hips rocking in response to the press of his. The feel of his body skewering hers was heaven.

Iollan’s eyes glowed like an ocean under moonlight. “We’re close, love.” He raised her hips, pulled her slightly up, then impaled her again. “Don’t fight it. Just let it come.”

Callie’s fingernails scratched up and down his bare back as he ground his hips almost savagely against hers. Her sex grew slicker with every thrust.

Hunger was his master now.

She didn’t see the change in his face, the emergence of his fangs to know what was going to happen next. She just accepted it the way she would accept the pain he’d inflict. With joy and welcome. She wanted him, wanted the pain. That was enough.

Callie cried out as his teeth tore into her skin. Her body shuddered deliciously, even as warm blood trickled down her neck. She sucked in a breath on a soft moan of pleasure and her body bucked beneath his. She climaxed. Hard, so hard, yet barely aware it had happened.

Callie’s eyes slowly opened and focused on his face. Iollan’s luminous gaze locked with hers. Slowly, oh so slowly, he leaned forward and they came together. He covered her mouth with his. She tasted her blood still clinging to his lips. The taste wasn’t unpleasant, but rich and feral.

A growl broke from her throat. “I want more.”

C
allie awoke to darkness, a blank void of nothingness. She knew she was awake, felt the press of a blindfold across her eyes. She opened her eyes, staring into the blankness. A hint of light filtered through the material.

Get that thing off my eyes.

Nothing. Her arms wouldn’t answer her commands to move. Something held her hands immobile. Instinctively she tried to jerk into a sitting position. The resulting explosion of pain sent her straight back down. A sluggish groan rose to her ears, feeble and without objective, extended by the wheeze emanating from her mouth. She couldn’t control her limbs, couldn’t rise to her feet.

Callie writhed, her wrists twisting against soft restraints. She flexed her fingers. Ouch! Something poked the back of her hand, sending a painful jolt shooting up her arm. The skin on her scalp crawled.

Invisible claws clutched at her, threatening to yank her back into the chasm of unconsciousness. She resisted, fighting to remain aware. As usual her memory seemed to be one big jigsaw puzzle, one scattered all over the floor. At this point there seemed little hope of finding all the pertinent pieces.

Callie had just enough presence of mind not to panic. Doing that would probably hurt her more than it would hurt her captors. Staying calm would be the safest bet right now.

Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on dragging her mind out of the dense fog gripping her senses. Her whole body was one big jumble of aches and pains. She felt like she’d been kicked to pieces and put back inside out and upside down. Her mouth was so desert dry it might as well have been glued shut. God, she was thirsty. So thirsty she would cut off her right leg to get a drink of water.

She eased back against the pillow. The pillowcase under her head was clean. The scent of Lysol and bleach used to clean the linens assailed her nostrils. Someone was taking care of her. Good sign. That unburdened her tension a bit, lifting a great weight from her shoulders.

Stilling her breath, she concentrated on listening to her surroundings. The low buzz of a monitor and the soft hush of faraway voices clued her into her whereabouts.

Hospital.

She heard them before she saw them.

Someone watched her. Callie felt it in the back of her neck and the incessant drone in the back of her skull.

“Who’s there?”

An unfamiliar female voice answered. “Just a minute.” The sounds of a body shifting, footsteps closing the distance between chair and bed. Sounds of breathing as someone bent over her. “I’m going to take this off your eyes. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Licking parched lips with an equally parched tongue, Callie nodded. “I don’t understand why I was blindfolded to begin with.”

A soft chuckle. “You came in complaining the light hurt your eyes. We were just trying to make you feel better. You said you needed the dark…that sunlight would burn you up.”

I did?

Callie considered. “Will it?”

“Hasn’t so far.” Another chuckle from the mystery woman. “Would you like me to draw the blinds first?”

Callie didn’t think things were so fucking funny, but managed to bite her tongue. “No. I want to see.”

The mask slid off.

Callie’s eyes snapped open. She blinked, once, twice. Blurry images cleared, then sharpened. Eyes adjusting the wash of light, an unfamiliar face swam into view. White uniform and concerned expression. A nurse.

She cast a hurried glance around the room. Typical hospital room, bed, monitors, a single window covered by slatted blinds. Gray skies outside, rain pattering against the glass. Everything seemed to be in place. Except the window had bars. Meant to keep people who wanted to get outside, inside.

Callie’s gaze settled on her restrained wrists. The effort delivered a wave of nausea. An IV ran from her left arm to some mysterious substance in the bottle hung above her bed. Oh shit. Waking up in a hospital was one thing. Waking up in a place with bars on the windows and bound to the bed didn’t bode well.

“What the fuck is going on?” Rising fury emanated from every pore. Hysteria vibrated in her voice.

The nurse placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t panic. Your hands had to be restrained to keep you from tearing out your IV.”

Callie glared at the suspicious bottle. The back of her hand was bruised with multiple needle marks. Apparently someone had mistaken her for a pincushion. “What are you people poisoning me with?”

A second voice answered. “Nothing more than a saline solution to replace the fluids in your body. You were dangerously dehydrated when you came in.”

Callie looked at the new intruder. The woman who’d walked into her room commanded instant respect. She wasn’t young—late fifties, maybe early sixties. Beautiful face, a cap of brown hair, highlighted in a chic youthful way and perfectly arranged. Slender, she wore a gray suit under her white lab coat. Gold earrings and a touch of lipstick were her only adornment. Back ramrod straight, she carried a clipboard in one hand, a cell phone in the other. Her glasses were plain black frames, perched halfway down her nose. She looked like she talked no nonsense and took no shit.

Flipping her cell shut, the woman stepped up to the bed. “I’m Doctor Collins,” she said as an introduction. “I’ve been your attending physician during your therapy sessions and recovery.”

Callie ignored her. “I don’t know you. Where are my people?”

“We are your people, Agent Whitten,” the doctor returned smoothly. “Rest assured that Agent Reinke has been notified you’re awake. He’ll be here shortly.”

Relief. Someone knew where she was.

Lying the clipboard on a nearby bed table, Doctor Collins began to loosen a cuff around Callie’s wrist. “I think these can come off. You seem sane enough now.” The nurse rounded the bed, quickly helping to remove the second cuff.

Callie gingerly lifted her abused hand, moving it to rest across her stomach. “Therapy sessions?” she gritted out in stunned confusion. “While I was—” Her words stalled. “Unconscious?” The question came out as a reedy whisper.
Oh, shit,
she cursed silently.

Doctor Collins nodded. “Yes.”

Throat working painfully, Callie leveled her gaze. “How long have I been out of it?”

Honesty compelled an answer. “Two days.”

Her tongue swiped over parched lips. “I don’t remember anything.”

Seeing Callie’s discomfort, the nurse poured water from a carafe at her bedside. Unwrapping a fresh straw, she guided the straw to Callie’s mouth.

Shooting her a grateful look, Callie sucked. Cool blessed water trickled over her tongue and down her throat. She swallowed in long grateful gulps, drinking until the cup was empty. The slight ache in her skull instantly diminished. She felt better, human. Hunger rumbled deep in her gut, a sure sign she’d survive.

The nurse smiled as she refilled the cup and offered more water. “Think you can handle some juice?”

Callie sipped the water, wishing it was darker, richer, and hotter. “Coffee, please. I need caffeine and sugar. A major infusion.”

The nurse looked askance to the good doctor.

Doctor Collins shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”

“Something to eat?” the nurse asked.

Callie leaned back against her pillow and sighed. “Food would be wonderful. I’m so damn hungry I’d eat a shoe.”

The nurse smiled. “Shoes, we don’t serve. Though I suppose our cafeteria’s food isn’t much better than leather most days.”

“Get her something light,” Doctor Collins suggested. “Soup and crackers would be good.”

The nurse hustled out just as Roger Reinke shot in at top speed. Paul Norton scurried hot on his heels. Norton hovered in the background, a silent wraith. By the look on his face, he wasn’t happy.

Roger hurried to her bedside. He reached for her hand. Slack jawed, uncertain, skin as pale as a corpse, genuine concern creased his features. “Thank God. You had me worried.” He looked a little grayer around the temples, a little older and a lot more tired than she remembered. His eyes were filled with the vulnerability of concern and remembrance of things passed.

Callie felt her hand in his, but remained curiously distant from the press of his skin against hers. She pursed her lips. She realized it no longer
hurt
to see him. No twinge in her heart, no pang from the time they’d shared together. He was just someone she used to see naked, someone she now didn’t see naked. The old wounds in her heart seemed to have healed, didn’t feel so fatal now.

A shudder wracked her. Damn it. Roger was the one who’d made the decision to end their affair. He had no right to hover like a worried lover. He didn’t deserve the place at her bedside. Not for one minute. He’d forfeited the keys to her heart.

She squelched further thought. Apparently the part of her brain storing Roger Reinke mementoes was perfectly intact. Too fucking bad. She wouldn’t have minded a memory wipe of that section. Time to toss the mental box into the fire. The moment had finally come when she could look at him and not fall to pieces inside.

Passion, elation.
Dead.

Grinding mental gears into reverse, Callie gently withdrew her hand from his. No reason to let sorrow and ugliness squeeze the life out of her. Resentment was the wrong emotion to be throwing at him right now. Concern for a fellow human being’s welfare should be allowable. And welcome.

She drew a calming breath. No time to dwell on the past. More immediate concerns loomed. “I’m fine. Really.”

Reinke clamped his jaw, nodding solemnly. His wall of self-control reasserted itself. Nothing between them but work. “You had us all worried there.” He took a step away from the bed as if to emphasize the distance.

Callie rubbed a hand over her face. “I suppose I’d be worried, too, if I remembered what happened.” She swallowed heavily and forced herself to go on. “According to Doctor Collins, we’ve been in therapy for two days—and I have no idea it ever happened.”

Doctor Collins spoke up. “A form of hypnotherapy was employed. Under sodium pentothal, we were able to take you back through the day you disappeared. We had to move fast, pull the memories out before they dissipated entirely. I tried to restore as many as possible.”

Callie shot the doctor a narrow glance. “Just what exactly did these sessions entail? And why don’t I remember them?”

Collins answered again. “During our sessions, we decided you wouldn’t remember until you asked to. This was implemented primarily to allow you to rest and get your strength back.”

Callie eyed the three warily. “I don’t like the idea of you people fucking with my head.”

Roger started to put a hand on her arm. He aborted the instinctive move midair. Callie’s look said she wouldn’t welcome his touch.

“Entirely necessary, Agent Whitten,” he said, putting on his sternest face. “What we are dealing with touches on a matter of the most confidential nature. Your involvement in the investigation changes your status as an agent.”

Callie shivered as if a chill wind had swept through the room. By the look on Roger’s face and the sound of his voice, this didn’t bode well at all. What the hell had she stumbled into?

She shot a look at Norton. A frown wrinkled his forehead. Saying nothing, he studied her like she’d somehow grown a third eye in the center of her forehead.

“You’re going to have to explain that one, Roger,” she said, bristling. “I’m not following everything here, and I have a feeling there’s a reason why. It’s not a good feeling either. I don’t like having my mind messed with by Doctor Frankenstein there.”

Roger nodded. “I understand. But this comes from higher up than me. I need to make it clear that if you choose to remember, you’ll be automatically transferring into a top-secret area most people in our own fucking government don’t know exists. This is hush-hush, touching on national security matters.”

There was a pause while she considered that.

Trying not to let her ambivalence ruin the business at hand, she turned matters over in her mind. Burning with curiosity, she wondered if knowing would be the wisest move. A nagging feeling came over her. Sometimes not knowing was the safest course to take.

Walking the safe path had never been her forte.

“Tell me.”

Doctor Collins glanced to Roger Reinke, who in turn got the nod from Paul Norton. “You still going in, Norton?”

“I’m going in, too,” Norton said.

Norton’s words caught her by surprise. “You’re in this, too, Paulie?”

Shifting nervously, Norton nodded. “Yeah, Callie. I’m in. We’re partners, you know? We’ve been working this thing together.” He did not look excited. He did not look thrilled. He looked terrified.

That look should have warned her to say no. Whatever was lost in her head could stay lost.

Not good enough and not an option.

Deluged by unexpected emotions, Callie lay there, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Suddenly everything was all mixed up. She didn’t know what to think anymore.