Kiss of Temptation: The Kavanaugh Foundation, Book 3 (8 page)

“Don’t worry, Luc. When we get to your house, I’ll clean up.”

He didn’t even look up. Instead, he focused on the cracks in the laminate floor. A pair of blood-splattered shoes moved into his line of sight and a cool hand caressed the back of his neck.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

No, I’m trying not to rip your throat out in front of everyone on this train.
But he couldn’t even bring himself to look into her eyes for fear she’d witness the bloodlust glowing inside him. He nodded and shrugged her off.

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Just let me know where we need to get off.”

“Madeleine.”

The rocking of the train lulled him into a half-slumber, and by the time they reached Madeleine, he felt like he’d been drugged. At least that was an improvement over the fierce thirst that had consumed him earlier. She rose when he did and followed him onto the platform, concern wrinkling her brow.
I don’t deserve her pity
, he thought as he turned away from her.
I deserve to burn for all my sinful thoughts.

And yet, he only regretted his thoughts of drinking from her. What had happened last night would go down as some of his favorite memories. The passion in her eyes, the flush of her skin, the way her sex tightened around him when she came. Nothing could compare to that.

His heart gave another lurch, reminding him of the strange changes she’d caused in him. Maybe he should listen to Morwen’s nonsense, if only to get a few more answers about his farcical return to humanity.

The sugary scent of Daniela’s blood assaulted him, reminding him once again that he would never be fully human. He clamped his teeth together. The sooner she got cleaned up, the easier it would be for him to be around her.

He wove his way through the people milling around, not bothering to check if she followed. He knew she did. He could smell her. The crowds thinned as he ventured into a little-used area of the station and fished for his keys.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He stopped in front of a metal door and unlocked it. A dark tunnel waited for them on the other side. “Come along.”

Daniela wrapped her hand around his, and he flinched. It would be so easy to lure her into the tunnel and drain her dry. No one would see them. No one would ever find her body. It would be the perfect murder. But the hammering of his heart prevented him from harming her. He didn’t know why their paths had crossed or what purpose she would serve in his life, but he knew he needed to be patient to find out.

“There aren’t any spiders in here, are there?”

Laughter welled up, easing the tension inside him as it broke free. “Most likely, but I’ll protect you from them.”

He locked the door behind them, plunging them into complete darkness. She moved closer to him, her grip on his hand tightening, but he didn’t share her fear. To a creature like him, the darkness was an old friend. His thirst retreated. He could do this. He could overcome his baser instincts and retain some of his humanity. He might even be able to enjoy her company a bit longer before he’d inevitably have to reveal himself to her. Was it too much to hope that she’d accept him?

You’re being a fool. All she wants is the Staff of Octavius. Once she finds it, she’ll be gone.
As soon as he admitted that to himself, the emptiness returned with such a vengeance, his chest burned as if someone had thrust a stake into his heart.

Daniela would be the death of him.

He navigated the tunnel with ease, stopping in front of another locked metal door. He slid the key into it. The locks groaned in protest as they turned, but he was home. He flipped on the lights and ushered her into the basement before closing the door and locking it. “Welcome to my
maison
.”

Daniela surveyed the dusty basement and rubbed her arms. “You have a secret entrance to your house?”

He nodded. “It was built during the First World War and was later employed by the Resistance during the Second World War. I like using it from time to time, when I want to go about unnoticed.”
Or when I want to avoid sunlight.

“Good idea. Even though it’s the day, I have a feeling we could be followed. That is, if Colette survived the explosion.” A smile lightened her face. “We may not have to worry about her anymore.”

“Maybe, but she wasn’t alone. Remember that.” He pointed to the door above. “Help yourself to anything you want in the house. I’ll call for a doctor to see to your injuries.”

“Thanks, Luc. I really mean that.”

When her footsteps disappeared upstairs, he leaned his head against the wall and heaved a sigh of relief. He’d done it. He’d resisted the ultimate temptation. He was rubbing his face when something sweet crossed his lips. His tongue flicked across his fingers, lapping up the sweet nectar that clung to them.

Her blood.

His pulse raced. His breath quickened. Sweat ran down his neck, soaking his shirt. A tidal wave of emotions slammed into him—fear, longing, desire—all threatening to rip him apart. He knew there was no turning back now. He’d tasted her blood, and his thirst overwhelmed his willpower. He would drink from her before the day was done. He would make her his.

Chapter Six

“Just one more staple and we’ll be done.”

Daniela winced when she heard the click of the stapler, even though she didn’t feel any pain. The doctor had taken care to numb her up well before inspecting the wound for any shards of glass and closing it. “Do you know Luc?”

“Yes, he’s been my neighbor for almost ten years now. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen him with.”

She chewed her bottom lip. So far, all she managed to learn about her lover/bodyguard was that he was a former priest and kept to himself. Oh, and he tended to prefer antique furniture from three centuries ago. None of it made much sense when viewed together. “So he’s never had a wife or a girlfriend?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. Again, I see very little of him. But he’s quiet, and he keeps his home neat. I couldn’t ask for a better neighbor.” He took a step back. “I think you’ll live. No need for a bulky bandage.”

She sat up and smiled. Dried blood caked her curls and cracked on her skin. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower and clean up. “
Grazie.”

“
Prego
,” he replied with an amused grin. “If you have any concerns, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Her phone rang as the doctor left the room. When she saw the number, she cringed. Morwen. Her voice shook when she answered. “Hello?”

“What the hell do you and Luc think you’re doing? Do you have any idea of the damage you caused? Do you know how many witches I’ll have to deploy to wipe those people’s memories clean?”

Her heart rose into her throat. She’d never heard the Head Witch this angry before. “Um, no.”

“Your little escapade made the international news. The only good thing about it is that the media is blaming some terrorist group. But blowing up the ladies’ room in one of the largest train stations in Paris? What were you thinking?”

Annoyance crept up Daniela’s spine, locking each vertebra into place. “You have no idea what we were up against, Morwen, so shut the fuck up. Colette had me cornered, and it was the only thing I could think of at the time.”

Morwen muttered a few words Daniela didn’t understand, but she caught the gist of them. “Do I need to remind you of the need for secrecy?”

Colette’s words echoed in her mind. “Of course, Morwen. Nothing is more important than the mission. Not even my own life.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Colette? She mentioned you were all too comfortable abandoning her when it came to saving yourself.”

Morwen stammered for words on the other end, and a pride surged through Daniela. She’d finally stood up to the Head Witch and rendered her speechless. As far as she knew, no one had ever dared do such a thing.

“Listen, Morwen. You gave me a job to do, and I’ll do it. But when I get back to New York, I may need to reconsider my future with the Foundation.” There. She’d said it. No more being bullied. She ended the conversation by turning her phone off, tossing it on the bed and heading into the shower. Hopefully, by the time she got out, Luc would remember where he’d hidden the staff.

Luc stared at the faded scrawl in front of him, easily deciphering the encrypted message he’d written over sixty years ago. The headpiece was in Copenhagen. He knew that. Why did he drag Daniela here when he could’ve taken her directly to it? Why was he making every excuse to string her along and tempt fate?

Because you don’t want to let her go, his mind answered. From the moment he first tasted her lips, she had revived more than just his heart. She’d revived his soul and reminded him of what it felt to truly desire something.

His mind filed through over six centuries of memories, but nothing rivaled the intense storm brewing inside him now. The lust, the hunger, the possessive pull he felt whenever he held her in his arms. Not even a cold shower calmed him. The lurch in his chest cruelly reminded him of how she’d taunted him with regaining his humanity. He would have been more than ready to give her the location and leave her, but once he’d tasted her blood, he realized he never wanted to be without her.

His mouth watered.
No, I can’t give in to this. I won’t. I refuse to become that kind of sinner.
But the sugary sweetness that hung on the tip of his tongue overpowered his mind. His vision turned red. He’d end this torment now.

He rose from his chair, his fangs piercing his bottom lip. The bitterness of his own blood did little to quench his thirst. She was the lamb meant to be sacrificed, and after he drained her dry, he’d answer for his sins.

A stab of repulsion rocked him, and he gripped the edge of his desk to steady himself. Mon Dieu
, what have I become?
He now understood how the image of Bathsheba bathing lured King David onto the path of sin. From the moment he saw Daniela, she’d tempted more than Satan himself could.

Maybe that’s why they burned witches in the past. Just by their very nature, they led men along the devil’s highway.

The image of her burning flesh awakened a new sensation in him, making his nostrils sting from the scent of sulfur and charred meat. In his mind, he saw a gray cloud of ash descend around him. Daniela’s sobs echoed in his ears. He held her close, wanting to shield her from the destruction around them, wishing he could silence her screams.

As quickly as the image hit him, it vanished. He shook his head a few times, trying to erase the sensations from his memory. What the hell was that?

“Luc.” Daniela’s voice jerked him back to the present, and he rubbed the vision from his eyes before she appeared in the doorway of his study. A worried frown marred the fullness of her lips. “Are you still ill? Maybe I should call your neighbor back to come take a look at you.”

“No!” He didn’t mean to shout the word, but it stopped her dead in her tracks. “I’ll be fine. I just need…” He ran his hand over his face. What did he need? A few minutes ago, he was ready to drain every drop of her essence. Now his soul shuddered from an image he couldn’t explain.

She picked up the journal and flipped through the yellowed pages. “This looks ancient.”

He snatched it from her and tucked it into his pocket. “It’s none of your business. All you need to know is that the next stop is Copenhagen.”

“And that’s where the staff is?”

When he drew in a breath to calm his temper, the sweet scent of her blood teased his nose. He took a step toward her, fighting to stay in control when every fiber of his being was telling him to give in to temptation. Only his mind rebelled.

Her breath quickened. Even from a few feet away, he knew the pace of the pulsations in her neck that perfectly matched the beats of her heart. The beats that mimicked the low thumps in his own chest. What was she doing to him?

“When do we leave?” She licked her lips and he bit back a groan, wishing he could be the one licking them, gently biting them to draw out the nectar that flowed through her veins.

He had to tear his gaze away from her before he gave in to the monster rising up within him. His voice cracked when he replied, “Tonight.”

“Are you certain you’re not ill, Luc?” She brushed the hair away from his face and trailed her fingers along his cheek. “You’ve been acting strange since the train station. I’m worried about you.”

The last four words hit him like a punch in the gut, shocking him from his self-absorbed world of misery. Ever since he’d been changed, only one person who knew what he was had ever shown concern for him. Morwen. The mournful note in Daniela’s voice was different from her boss’s, though. It sounded like it came straight from her heart.

Despair shot up from his gut and filled his limbs with lead. He couldn’t destroy her. “I just need some time alone.”

She backed away, her face falling. “Of course. I should have expected that.”

Luc didn’t pick up on the pain in her words until she was halfway up the stairs. He rushed out of the library. “What do you mean by that?”

She paused on the staircase. “Nothing. I mean, most men react this way when they witness my powers. I’m used to that by now.”

“Daniela, it’s not that.”

“You don’t have to make excuses, Luc,” she said, followed by a fake laugh. “I mean, I am a witch. Most people are bothered by that.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?” Her fingers curled around the banister and turned white.

With her eyes flashing in anger and her cheeks blooming with color, she was more tempting than he could’ve imagined. He needed to have her—all of her—before he ripped the banister out of the wall. He was gambling out of pure desperation, but part of him wondered if he could enjoy her without crossing the line, without tasting her blood again.

Luc rushed up the stairs after her, never breaking his stride as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into his bed. Even with the blackout curtains drawn to shield him from the sunlight, he could see her lush lips parted in surprise, the rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath.