Highlander Reborn (2 page)

“I saved your life.”

Nevin laughed, and he knew it wasn’t a pleasant sound. It was rusty and harsh. “You took my soul and damned me to this infernal existence. I owe you nothing.”

“I
did
save you,” she insisted. “You would have died on that battlefield and you know it.”

Her hands were on her hips, her dark eyes flashing at him. He wished she wasn’t so beautiful. She looked exactly the same as she had when he’d seen her all those centuries ago. He hadn’t been able to kill her then, and he knew she was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He had to make her leave. She needed to understand he couldn’t have anything to do with her.

“Sweetheart, I did die. You didn’t save me, you fucking turned me into the devil himself. And some poor bastard needs an escort to hell.” Sardonically inclining his head, Nevin turned once more to leave. “Have a good night, princess.”

***

“So that’s it? You’ll just leave and go back to hunting humans for money?” Amalia shouldn’t have said that. She could see his shoulders tighten, and in the next instant he was nose to nose with her. Goddess, but he was big. And fast. She hadn’t forgotten a thing about him, but seeing him up close was different than keeping tabs on him. She’d known he would want time away from her to adjust to his new life, but she hadn’t thought it would take over 700 years. She’d wanted him to come to her, but after seven centuries, her patience had worn thin.

There was something different about him. His voice was different. It was deeper, rougher. From many years in America, the smooth Scottish brogue was barely there, however it was the thick scar wrapped around his neck that caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she realized what that meant. Good goddess, someone had tried to behead him.

Nevin noticed where her eyes were and the smile that curved his lips held a hint of cruelty. It looked wrong on him; this man had never been cruel.
He was honorable and he was a good man
.

“I’m not a man anymore, princess. You made sure of that.”

Amalia hadn’t realized she’d spoken out loud. Her eyes met his and for a brief second she saw something more than anger in his gaze.

“What happened to you, Nevin?” Amalia asked softly.

“You did.”

She flinched. She should have expected that answer. Amalia was beginning to realize that this new Nevin was sardonic and aimed to hurt her.

“I couldn’t let you die, you have to know that.” Suddenly, Amalia felt the need to explain herself, something she’d never actually done. “You were lying there slipping away, a—and I wanted you to live. You were so strong and such a gifted warrior, I knew you were meant to do so much more.”

“So now you’re disappointed in me, princess? Is that it?” Nevin grabbed her upper arms in a punishing grip.

Amalia’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not. I only meant that…” he cut her off.

“You think I should be grateful to you for this existence you forced upon me, then? I have news for you princess.” Although he had no idea she was a queen, she hated how he sneered the title. His head dropped down to hers, his words a harsh whisper of breath against her lips, “You should have let me die.”

Amalia was left alone. He was gone.

Chapter 4

Nevin slammed the door to his apartment, or at least the one he used when he was in St. Louis. Being a bounty hunter meant he often chased his prey out of state. He kicked a wooden chair out of his way, not bothering to watch it splinter, and resumed his pacing. When he reached the kitchen, he turned around and stopped cold. Amalia was leaning against his door looking as if she wouldn’t mind staking him in the heart with one of the broken chair pieces. He growled low in his throat
, Let her try
.

“Alright, running off the first time, I allowed. You needed time to adapt. But tonight?” She shook her head, her dark hair settling about her shoulders. “Tonight I came to you because I need you, and this time you don’t get to run.”

He stalked towards her, not caring that he stepped on pieces of the splintered chair. Amalia didn’t move from her position of negligent ease against the door, but he noticed she tensed up slightly. Good. She should be nervous. He was furious, and when he was angry, no one naysayed him. He stopped within inches of her body, leaned down until his nose brushed the tip of hers.

“I. Don’t. Run,” he gritted out.

“Oh, of course not,” her sugary-sweet tone grated on his nerves. “You’ve only run from me every chance you’ve gotten,” she stepped closer to him, leaving behind the guise of indifference. Her tense body nearly vibrated with fury. “Obviously you don’t run.” Amalia’s eyes flashed, and Nevin did
not
find that sexy. At all. His cock disagreed.

“Don’t push me, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“What? Princess? Why not?”

“Because I’m your damn queen, you arrogant jerk.”

That gave him pause. He shook his head. “I should have guessed.”

“I could have called you to me any time during the past centuries, yet I didn’t. I wanted to give you time. I knew you wouldn’t take to this new life with ease, but I never thought you’d hate me,” she ended in an agonized whisper.

“I don’t hate you. And what do you mean you could have called me to you?”

Amalia ignored his question, instead focusing on the part she cared about. “You don’t hate me?” She wasn’t sure she completely hid the hope from her voice. She didn’t want him to hate her. She’d had a crush on him since before the word was invented. Honestly from the first time she realized he was brave enough to hunt one such as she. The foolish mortal had thought to hunt a vampire queen. She still remembered that night in the Highlands of Scotland from so long ago.

Shaking off the old memories, Amalia waited for Nevin to explain. He didn’t. Instead, he pressed his body against hers, forcing her to back up a step and flattening her against the door. His unforgiving strength wouldn’t let her move. Interesting. She was stronger than most vampires, and definitely stronger than any youngling. Not that he was really a youngling anymore at over seven centuries old. Her gaze tracked over his face, down his neck without lingering on his scar, and lowered to his chest. His muscles bunched at her gaze causing the soft cotton of his shirt to tighten. Not for the first time, Amalia’s body responded to the sheer male presence he exuded. She’d been attracted to him from the start, but fate had stepped in forcing her to make that desperate decision before she could let him see that she wasn’t a monster.

“What do you mean you could call me to you at any time, Amalia?” His deep gravelly voice was quiet, and she sensed that was just the calm before the storm. He wouldn’t be one to yell, oh no, not this male.

His voice was deceptively soft, while his hands gripped her by the upper arm and he shook her slightly. “Amalia?”

“I can compel you to me,” she blurted. Where was the cool, calm, royal composure she normally had? This man had always thrown her off kilter, meeting him again hadn’t changed anything.

“Explain.”

“Most vampires can compel humans.” His head dipped in acknowledgement of that talent. “But because I’m royalty, my blood is of the oldest and purest line, I can compel any under my command.”

“I am not yours to command,” he gritted out, his warm breath caressing her lips.

“I never used my compulsion on you because I knew you would despise me. I never wanted this, you have to understand that I never—”

His kiss stole the words from her lips, his mouth pressed roughly against hers. His hands no longer gripped her upper arms, but instead skimmed lightly down until his fingers tangled with hers. Nevin raised their joined hands to her shoulders and pressed them back against the door. Amalia wasn’t worried about his strength. She had sired him, she could control him.

Nevin ground his erection against her core causing molten desire to flood her veins. She gasped at the sensation. It had been so long since she’d felt desire, and to feel it so intensely with this man she’d wanted for so long? It was almost too much for her. Her knees wobbled, but held. Not that it mattered, Nevin’s unyielding grasp kept her up. His mouth devoured her as he moved from her lips down her neck, settling against the delicate hollow of her throat. Nevin very gently grazed his fangs against the tender area and Amalia nearly came. Her knees did buckle, but Nevin seemed to be one step ahead of her, already releasing her hands and wrapping a strong arm around her waist. He lifted her until she could wrap her legs around his hips, while his lips continued their onslaught against her senses.

With her legs gripping his hips tightly, and Amalia’s back to the cool wood of the door, the heat of Nevin against her front nearly burned her. She didn’t care. Amalia wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anything in her very long life. She would burn if it meant she could finally have him.

Nevin thrust his fingers beneath her waistband and slipped against her cool skin. Even over her panties his fingers felt hot, his heat branding her, letting her know that he was different. Her kind felt cool to the touch, why did he burn?

Reaching in between them, Amalia ran her fingers along his fly, then gripped him firmly through his pants. His hips bucked slightly, and she smiled against his temple. He nipped her neck, then sucked it hard. If she were the type to bruise, she knew he would have left a mark. Amalia kept teasing him through the material of his pants until he couldn’t stand it anymore and ripped his fly open, exposing his eager cock to Amalia’s cool fingers. It wasn’t enough though, and Amalia was trying to slip her shirt off. Nevin finally set her down long enough to yank her shirt off and pull her pants down. She kicked them off and one pant-leg got stuck in her heels, but she didn’t care. When Nevin lifted her up once more, her back against the door, her body open to him, she crossed her legs behind his buttocks, one shoe on, the other forgotten on the floor along with her tangled pants.

Nevin plunged his cock in, and thrust once, twice, then he was home. Amalia moaned, Nevin groaned. Her silken heat gripped his shaft, and she tightened her inner muscles, eliciting another groan from him. He bent down to tongue her nipples one at a time, then done teasing, straightened up and set a punishing pace. It wasn’t enough for her. She wanted his fangs in her neck, but he never came close. She thought he would have lost control by now. She was quickly learning he was always in control.

He slid a finger into Amalia’s mouth, and before she could do more than close her lips on it, he pulled it out and reached between them, slipping it through her curls. It was too much, Amalia screamed as she shattered, the feeling of fullness stretching her. He thrust balls deep, until his orgasm took hold. Nevin’s whole body stiffened and as soon as he finished, he’d pulled out and zipped up, leaving Amalia very aware that he was fully dressed while she had nothing on but a bra and one high heel.

Looking around, she found most of her clothes, but her panties were nowhere to be seen. She slipped her shirt back on and untangled her pants from her shoe, sliding them up over her hips, and zipping up without panties. She didn’t look at Nevin again until her shoe was on, and when she did look, she was shocked at the cold disdain on his face.

             
“Get out,” he grated the words,

             
Her mouth dropped. “What?” No one dismissed her.

He had already turned his back and was walking away. “No one controls me. Now leave.”

“This was to prove to me that you’re stronger than I am? Really?” Amalia stalked after him, “Oh, honey,” she shook her head as she condescendingly told him, “if you think that—“

An explosion rocked the apartment, throwing Amalia to the ground. Nevin’s hard body was instantly on top of her, taking some of the steam out of his earlier comments. Apparently, chivalry died hard, especially in a warrior such as Nevin. While debris rained down upon them, Nevin stiffened, then jumped up with an enraged roar.

“What the fuck!” he shouted.

Amalia shook plaster and wood splinters out of her hair and stood up, but Nevin blocked her view of whoever he was yelling at. Over the scent of smoke and explosives, Amalia smelled something familiar. Or rather, someone.

“Sebastian?” Amalia stepped out from behind Nevin and looked on in shock at her longtime friend.

With a mocking bow, Sebastian replied, “My Lady.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“A friend of yours, princess?” Nevin’s glare froze her blood.

Laying her hand lightly on his arm, Amalia turned her attention back to Sebastian. “I thought so,” she said softly. “Sebastian, what is going on here?”

“We are saving you, my Lady, of course.”

“Saving me from what? And how? By nearly killing me with explosives?”

“Saving you from yourself, my Lady, and you know explosives won’t kill you, not unless you’re decapitated. Besides, we didn’t use that much.”

“Gee thanks, you were always so thoughtful. I’m supposed to be grateful you didn’t ‘use that much?’ Don’t be an ass.”