Fallen Darkness (The Trihune Series Book 2) (19 page)

Chapter 41

“Cut the neck like this, then suck until the soul releases.” Henry held tight to the male in his arms. It was like trying to hold a struggling kitten.

He studied the newly turned Fallen standing in front of him. Both Mark and Dean were taller than him and had more muscle than brains. Lilith must’ve picked these two recruits before she left for Russia. Henry had wanted two from his selection. Quieter. Smarter. Knew how to keep out of trouble. But Kobal took them for himself.

“How will I know when the soul releases? Can I see it?” Mark asked.

The Lord rewards those who are calm and patient. Henry inhaled long and deep before replying. “You’ll know, believe me. It’s not something you can see, but you’ll feel its entrance into your body. Its warmth and strength.” It was the only time he was truly warm. Though he could no longer get sick from the cold, he still felt it. All the time. Even with layers. “Come, Mark. Take out your weapon.”

The human began to struggle in earnest now. “You need to act fast. Cut and drink.”

“Cut and drink.” Mark’s knuckles had turned white from clutching his dagger so tight.

As soon as the Fallen drew close, Henry thrust the male at him. Mark grabbed him effortlessly and had the human’s back to his chest, head tilted to the side before the male could escape.

“Cut and drink,” Henry repeated, stepping back as blood squirted through the air.

When the human lay on the ground at his feet, he spoke. “Not bad for your first time. The cut doesn’t need to be so big. Too big means more of a mess. And we don’t want to walk around with evidence all over our clothes.

“Staying hidden from humans is the first rule. Until we start to drink from them of course. The second is staying away from Behns.” Henry had never met a Behn. Just heard stories from Kobal.

Predators existed in all species. When he was human, Henry had counted himself as one. The cops were mere sheep in wolves’ clothing.

But the Behns might be real wolves. He’d no desire to find out. At least right now. Not until he had a chance to use his—

“What about me?” Dean asked.

Henry held in a sigh, smiled. “Yes, you’re next.”

He spent the next sixty minutes with the new Fallen. Each fed on two souls. Henry was in the middle of explaining how to hide the bodies when he saw her. Female, late twenties, walking alone.

Dean followed Henry’s gaze and moved a step in her direction.

“No,” Henry said.

She reminded him of his mother. With her head tilted down, hair falling over her face. The female walked under a streetlight. A light brown color. Just like his mother’s and his own. This female’s hair was too long, though. Fell past her shoulders. She wore blue jeans with boots up to her knees and a red wool coat. Mother would never have worn boots like that or jeans. Father didn’t like females dressing like men.

“Are we just going to let her walk away?” Mark asked.

“Yes.” Henry didn’t remove his gaze from her. “You will. Your training is done for the night. Go back to the tunnels.”

“But I’m still hungry.”

Henry turned to Mark. “No more for tonight. We’ll go out tomorrow. The hunger will subside. Too many in one night and the risk of getting caught rises.” His eyes swung back to the female. She was still in sight. Walking on the sidewalk toward the one car in the lot. She’d reach it in less than five minutes. “I’ll meet you back at the tunnels.” He faced each Fallen in turn. “Make no stops. Head directly back to the tunnels.” Henry waited for their acquiescence before leaving, making sure to head in the opposite direction from the female. Once he was out of sight, he doubled back around.

It was providence. His newly acquired vehicle was stashed less than a mile away. A full syringe was nestled in the right inside pocket of his jacket.

He pulled out a pair of plain wire frames from his left inside pocket. The frames settled perfectly on his nose. The weight comfortable, familiar, and pushing him deeper into his role.

Hands were shoved in his pockets, his shoulders slumped, head down as he walked. Seconds later he collided into the female and reached a hand out to steady her. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” His eyes wide, frown apologetic. “Are you all right?”

The female’s startled features relaxed. “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying atten—”

Henry plunged the needle deep into her neck, effortlessly catching her when she collapsed. He scooped her into his arms. “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ll help you pay attention.”

His car was by the docks where vehicles were often parked overnight. The cold air whipped across his cheeks. Anticipation acted as a buffer.

He unlocked the trunk. Set the female on top of the plastic stapled over the carpet. His smile grew as he stared at her unconscious form. “I’m so glad you came. We’re going to have such a good time together.”

Chapter 42

Several hours later Lucas sat in a chair in the corner of his room, gaze on Kate’s sleeping form. When he’d left earlier, the covers had been pulled to her waist, her face pressed against her jacket that lay on the pillow. Now the covers and pillow were on the floor. She lay curled in a ball in the middle of his bed, head resting on her jacket, hands tight against her chest. Her breaths even and deep.

He wanted . . .

Lucas sighed. So many things.

To cover her with the blankets.

Lay down next to her.

Touch her.

Wrap his arms round her.

Wake her so he could stare into her big brown eyes.

Gently run a finger down her cheek. Across her lips. Eyelids. Forehead. Arm.

Hold her hand.

Tell her everything. Confess his secrets. His worries.

To have her do the same to him.

Another sigh. What was happening to him? Why was this Follower so important? She wasn’t his
bahshrett
.

No matter how much he wanted it to be true. She was not the one the Creator placed on earth for him.

A sharp point pierced his heart. Sadness. His gaze flicked to Kate and froze. Her eyes were open, watching him.

“Hi,” he said softly when she didn’t speak.

She uncurled her body and sat up slowly. Her hair was a mess. She’d sweated in her sleep, drooled too. Hair matted to the side of her face where she lay on the jacket. The back of her head could hold a bird. She winced, rubbing her head then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

He leaned forward. “Are you all right? Do you need anything? Water? Medicine?”

A flash of something—pain, annoyance—crossed over her face before she gave a grunt that Lucas assumed meant no.

Not a morning person? “Or maybe just a coffee?” he asked, a slight smile curving his lips.

Her gaze flickered up, eyes narrowing.

Chuckle stifled, he raised his hands and settled back in his seat.

Kate leaned over the bed, giving him a nice view of her ass while she reached for the pillow.

He shifted uncomfortably. It’d been a long time since he’d been with a
nheqeba
. His reaction was normal. Along with the way his thoughts were headed.

Fingers crossed together, Kate first pressed on the webbing of her right hand then the left. She smoothed the fake leather over her palms and wrists. At her elbows, she tugged gently on the ends of the gloves. Next, she straightened the long sleeves of her shirt over her gloves. The bottom hem of her shirt received a pull before she reached underneath to tug on her second shirt. Socks were next. First one leg than the other. Lucas noticed a small hole on the top of the right one. On her feet now, she straightened her shirts once more, smoothed her hands over her jeans all the way to her feet. She ran her gloved fingers through her hair, wincing at the snarls. Then turned to the bed, bending to grab the sheets off the floor, giving him another quick glimpse of her firm backside.

Lucas blew out a silent breath as she stood and tossed the blankets back on the bed, smoothing them out. He’d planned to remain silent until she was ready to talk, but he couldn’t sit still while she made his bed. “You don’t have to do that.”

She shrugged, her gaze not lifting as she continued to pull the sheet over the pillow. Lucas rose, picked up the pillow that had fallen off the side where he stood, and placed it at the head of the bed before tugging the sheet over it. Kate paused, frowning.

He picked up the comforter and nodded toward her side. Her frown deepened but she grabbed it and together they finished making the bed. When it was done, Lucas sat down, motioning to the other side. When she just stared at him, arms crossed, he added, “Please.”

“I want to brush my teeth.”

“She speaks.” The words just popped out. One glance at her expression and a small laugh escaped, as well. She didn’t like that. “Tell me, are you always this chipper when you first wake.”

“Are you always this annoying when someone first wakes?”

“I don’t know. You’re the first person to sleep in my bed.”

She snorted. “You’re not going to convince me you’re a virgin.”

“No, but you are the first
nheqeba
,” at her expression he clarified, “female, I’ve brought in my room.” She didn’t respond, but her gaze lowered.

Lucas eyed the leather gloves, the long sleeves, the way her shirt fell past the top of her pants. The only skin showing was her face. This
nheqeba
had been covered from head to toe since he met her, how could he find her so attractive?

“What about you? Are you a virgin?” Had she ever been kissed? Touched intimately? A growl started in his throat. He swallowed it. She didn’t lift her head, but her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry, forget it. I was rude to ask.”

She still didn’t look at him.

“Are you hungry?” As if in response, her stomach rumbled. He smiled. “I’ll ask Jeeves to bring you food while you brush your teeth. Then we can talk.”

Her head jerked up. “No.”

He paused, hand hovering over his cell phone on the table next to the bed. Was she not going to talk to him? His chest tightened. Panic. He glanced at her. “No?”

“I don’t want Jeeves or Martha to wait on me. I make my own meals.”

Lucas opened his mouth to argue, saw her expression, and changed his mind. “Of course. I’m a bit peckish, as well. I’ll just go down with you. Make myself something, too.”

Another snort.

She was too cute. “Careful, Kate, you’re assuming again.”

She sniffed. “Fine. I’ll meet you outside my room.”

Lucas watched her leave. She wanted to go to the kitchen. Walk through the HQ. If Cade saw she was awake, Lucas wouldn’t be able to stop him from talking to her.

What if she didn’t want to talk? Would Cade use his ability? Lucas’s hands fisted. His eyes flared. He couldn’t stop the growl and it echoed around the room.

Lucas wouldn’t have any idea when, if, Cade infiltrated her mind. The Sept One leader could be reading her before he even approached.

“Hey, sorry if I was rude earlier. Sometimes I get a headache after—whoa.”

Lucas’s gaze flitted to Kate. She stood in the doorway. His blue gaze allowed him to see the depths of her eyes.

Brown was the wrong word choice. It was too plain. Though nothing he saw in all of his centuries equaled their beauty. She was speaking. He cocked his head, caught the last of it.

“. . . matter with you?” Her tone was exasperated, with a tinge of fear.

He stiffened. Blinked and the light from his eyes vanished. His fangs began to recede, too, though he didn’t remember when they descended. He rubbed his chest.

“Hello? Are you going to say something?”

“Sorry,” he said, finding his voice raspy. How long had he been growling?

Arms folded across her chest, she stayed in the doorway. “So what’s with the show?”

He shook his head. “It just . . .” Pause. “Came on,” he finished lamely.

She raised an eyebrow. “How often does that happen? I mean, I’d think a lot more people would know about you if you . . .” She curved two fingers. “Grr-ed out like that in public.”

“We try not to,” he mimicked her fingers, bringing them up to his mouth. “Grr out in front of Followers. I was in my room.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. I need to eat something. Are you coming or not?” Without waiting for his answer, she headed down the hallway.

Lucas cursed and hurried after her. She past Gabe’s room. Lucas felt the caress against his spine. Gabe was inside. He walked a few steps ahead and blinked, using his Behn vision to search the hallway leading into Cade and Sarid’s wing. No one was visible.

He didn’t breathe any easier. They still had to get through the foyer and front room. Please let the kitchen be empty. Martha and Jeeves would most likely still be in their wing. Although, Michael or Andrew, whoever was on shift, would see them walking through the HQ.

“Why are you walking so fast?” Kate asked, quickening her steps until she was next to him. “You’re acting weird.”

“Just starving.” He flashed a smile.

She stopped.

“What’s wrong?” He turned, gaze roaming. They were on the stairs. In view of Cade if he walked out of his wing. In view of Martha or Jeeves if they came in the foyer.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re acting this way.”

He focused on Kate. Walked up one step to meet her, lowered his head. She stiffened, but didn’t back away. He was grateful. There weren’t just cameras in the HQ, but speakers as well. The ones in the bedrooms were off, although they could be turned on with a push of a button, but the ones in the other rooms were on at all times. “I want to get you into the kitchen before Cade sees you’re awake,” he whispered.

Though if an
ebhed
at the controls wanted to hear what Lucas was saying it wouldn’t matter how low he pitched his voice. He lifted his head to see if she understood, and froze. This was the closest he’d ever been to her when she was conscious and aware.

Her scent. He was outside in wintertime, an apple tree blooming in front of him. First was the cold—a pleasurable burn—then the sweetness. Intoxicating.

She had stilled, too, was staring with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. He held her gloved hand. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you.”

She blinked a couple times. Inhaled sharply. “He wants to hurt me? For what I did?” Emotions flicked across her face too fast for him to catch. He squeezed her hand.

“No.” Another glance around. His gaze ran over the camera hidden in the ceiling at the top of the steps. He lowered his voice. “He just wants to talk to you. Come. Into the kitchen. We’ll get some food. Take it to my room.”

She didn’t take her hand back as they descended. The feel of her gloved fingers tight around his palm was comforting, even though he’d only set out to reassure her.

Inside the kitchen—thankfully it was empty—he reluctantly let her go and pulled open the fridge.

“What are you hungry for?”

Kate snorted, reaching around him to open a drawer. She pulled out two plastic bags. “Do you even know what’s in the fridge, Rich Guy? When’s the last time you were in here? Probably to ask Martha to pour you some coffee?”

He growled low, spinning to trap her between his body and the island. She gasped. It wasn’t in fear. He placed one hand on either side of her, close but not touching.

“What can I do to prove that I’m not some rich, spoiled guy?” He kept his voice low.

Her heart was beating fast, but, again, she wasn’t afraid. Her scent filled the air. Lucas stood in the middle of an orchard. His cock hardened and he tilted his hips back so not to scare her. He couldn’t lift his gaze from her lips, though. He wanted so badly to kiss her. Wanted it more than blood. More than another hit of darkness. Her lips parted on a soft intake of breath. He dragged his gaze upward, and sweet Creator, she was staring at his mouth. Then her gaze slowly rose to meet his.

He froze.

She looked hungry. And not for food.

Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. He bit back a groan. Her eyebrows rose. She lifted her gloved hand, touched the outside of his right eye. “Why do they do that?” she asked, voice low.

His eyes had flared its blue light the moment his body responded to her nearness. It was because he wanted her, but that would be the wrong thing to say. “Have you ever been kissed, Kate?”

She stilled.

Lucas could practically see the mask falling over her face. He regretted his words at once. Before he could apologize, she pushed at his chest. He dropped his hands and backed away.

She walked around him and opened a cupboard door, pulled out two loaves of bread. Lucas glanced at the packages on the counter. Ham and turkey. Back in the fridge, he grabbed the mustard, mayo, cheddar cheese, and lettuce. He set those on the counter next to Kate and walked around the island to the other set of cupboards to get two plates and a couple knives.

She was watching him, but quickly looked away after taking the offered plate and knife. They worked in silence. Kate made one sandwich. Ham and turkey on wheat. She didn’t use any mustard or mayo, but did add a slice of cheese to the ham and lettuce to the turkey. She used as much meat as Lucas did on his two sandwiches, though he’d also added cheese, lettuce, along with mustard and mayo, each smeared on their own slice.

“Carrots?” Lucas asked, when he was setting the items back in the fridge. He glanced over his shoulder.

She shook her head and instead opened the pantry door across the room, disappeared inside, returning moments later with a bag of jalapeno cheddar chips.

He grinned. “You and Gabe would get along well.”

Taking some carrots for himself, he hesitated in front of the cans of pop, deciding to grab two bottles of beer instead. He held them up. She shrugged.

Kate had already wiped up their mess on the counter. He grabbed their plates and, carrying the bottles in the crook of his arm, made his way out of the kitchen.

His instincts went on full alert. Kate followed, offering to carry something, which he ignored.

They made it to his room without notice. He closed the door behind him. Kate chose the chair. Lucas sat on the bed, resting his back against the headrest.

She fiddled with the crust of her sandwich, not looking at him. He wanted to ask what she was thinking. Wanted to apologize for his asinine question. For ruining the moment. He wanted to throw his plate on the floor, do the same to Kate’s, and drag her to bed for that kiss . . . and more.

He really, really wanted to do that.

He shifted uncomfortably, placing the plate on his lap to hide the effect of his thoughts.

“No.” Her voice so low a human wouldn’t have caught it. Gaze still on her plate, her fingers arranged the chips with rapt precision.