Magick Rising (26 page)

The cool touch of his lips sent a shiver over Hayley’s skin, and she drew

her hand back. “Have you known Dane long?”

The men exchanged amused glances. “Forever, I think,” Barnaby said.

“You must be very good friends then.”

“Oh, we are.” Dane grinned and clapped Barnaby on the back. “Which

is why I wanted Barnaby to meet you.”

“And she’s just as you said,” his friend added. “Lovely and charming.”

Sure, she believed that, especially in her current state. “You’re too

kind,” she said and meant it. Weariness washed over her. “If you’ll excuse

me, it’s been a long night.” Long day
and
night.

“Of course.” Barnaby executed a small bow that made her blink.

Now,
that
she didn’t see very often.

“I’ll look for you tomorrow,” Dane said.

She nodded and headed for the elevator, eager to escape to the safety of

her room. Nothing had gone right since her arrival here. She needed to rest

and rethink her strategies. Paul was still on the loose, and the Destroyer had

to still be here. There hadn’t been a second victim.

Yet.

Once in her room, she made sure she secured the door then tugged off

her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and headed for the bathroom

eager to rinse the grime away. Her shoulder and back still ached but not

nearly as bad as earlier. Thank goodness for antiseptic cream.

She removed the bandages then showered, lingering beneath the hot

water until it began to cool. After drying off, she dressed in sweats. Not

glamorous by any means, but warm and comfortable.

Setting a stake beside her bed as usual, she flopped down. Now to sleep.

Closing her eyes, she allowed the exhaustion to flow over her, too tired

even to switch out the light. A sharp edge cut into her cheek, and she pulled

out a small card from between her face and the pillow. The maid had

probably—

After one glance, all thoughts of sleep fled. The simple white business

card contained only two words, but that was enough.

The Destroyer
.

He’d been here.
In my room
.

Hayley dropped the card and snatched up the stake, searching the

corners for any sign of movement. Was he still here?

She quickly examined all possible hiding spots and found them empty.

Not really a surprise. If he’d intended to kill her, he would have done so

already. The card was a warning.

Or a gesture of mockery.

He knew she was after him. Knew she was here. Yet all he’d done was

leave his card.

Returning to the bed, she picked up the card again. Nothing written

beyond that horrible title gleaming in black ink against pristine, glossy white

card stock. The card on Lissa’s body had been stained with blood . . .
her

blood.

Did he usually send them ahead of time to his victims? Or was she a

special case? Judging from Lissa’s murder, she’d always assumed he left the

card after he killed. Why change that now?

To unnerve her. To startle her into mistakes. To make it easier for him.

To hell with that
.

Hayley double-checked the locks on the door and windows then placed

thick, heavy crosses in front of them. Crosses didn’t stop vampires nearly as

effectively as the movies made it appear, but they would slow one down.

Which might be just enough to give her time to react and save her life.

That completed, she climbed back into bed, then sat there, her back

against the headboard, her gaze flicking between the two entry points.

Apparently she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight after all.

HE SMILED. By now she had found the little gift he’d left for her. Was she

afraid? Half-tempted to visit her and see, he resisted. Of course she was. She

was where he wanted her. And she was already his, whether she admitted it

or not.

He could afford to wait a little longer. In the end, he would win and

Hayley Donahue would join the undead.

HAYLEY RETURNED TO the hotel the next afternoon after a fruitless

day of searching for Paul. She’d looked in every dark hiding place she could

find in and out of the city. Had he moved on? Most new vampires didn’t.

Their thinking processes weren’t that good yet. They tended to stay where

they knew there was food.

Was he bedded down in someone’s basement? In a shed? She ached

with frustration and weariness. He could be anywhere.

Rurik came to meet her as she entered the hotel’s lobby.

“What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

She grimaced. Nice to know she looked as bad as she felt. “I didn’t

sleep much last night.”

“What happened?” Concern lingered in his voice as he guided her to a

nearby couch.

“I found this waiting on my pillow.” She handed him the white business

card, the sight of it still as unnerving as when she’d first found it.

“The Destroyer.” Rurik hesitated. “How? Why?”

“He’s here. He knows I’m here. I think this is his way of letting me

know that.” Hayley wrapped her arms around herself. “Perhaps he intends

for me to be his next victim.”

“No.”

The ferocity of Rurik’s expression startled her and yet warmed her with

his concern.

“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to let that happen.” Eager to change the

subject, she continued, “I tried tracking Paul from the park this morning but

lost the trail at the river. I went back to the train tunnel, but he wasn’t there

either. He’s obviously found a new hiding place. I did find my backpack and

crossbow, though, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

Just having her familiar weapons bolstered her fragile sense of security.

She touched her backpack to reassure herself.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“When it’s dark, I intend to present myself as bait again.”

“That’s a good idea. Let me know when you wake up. I’m coming with

you.”

“I—” She offered a token protest. To her surprise, she’d missed his

presence beside her today. Hunting with him gave her a sense of safety she

rarely had.

He placed a finger on her mouth then replaced it with his lips—a kiss

that was short yet filled with restrained passion and heat. “We need to talk,”

he murmured as he drew back, his eyes so dark she could see her reflection

in them. “I’ll be here.”

His kiss chased away the chill from her veins, and Hayley found herself

smiling. “If you insist.”

“Good.” He walked her to the elevator then stole another kiss. “Sweet

dreams, Hayley.”

Damn him. As she slept she dreamed of him, his kisses, his touch, his

dark eyes and the way she lost herself in them. As if no other man could

possibly exist except him. He made her feel alive again. As if she had a

future, a life. His caresses triggered a longing that filled her, drove her to

demand more. She wanted . . . needed . . . him.

She awoke with a start to a darkened room. Blast, she’d overslept. The

sun had already set. Sitting up, she blinked to clear away the seductive haze

left by her erotic dreams. Her breasts felt swollen, tight. Just what she didn’t

need, especially if Rurik was joining her.

A slight noise—barely anything—caught her attention, and she froze.

Someone . . . something was entering her room. Rurik? The Destroyer?

In one swift motion, she rolled from the bed and snagged the stake

from the side table. Before she could turn, someone growled and jumped on

her, almost knocking the stake free.

She swung around, using her attacker’s own weight to dislodge him,

then climbed to her feet. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she spotted

him rising.

Paul.

How had he gotten in? She’d secured the door and double-checked it.

She had crosses on the windows.

Didn’t matter. He came at her again with frightening speed, swerving

when she plunged forward with the stake. Damn.

He smacked her so hard she flew into the bureau, fresh pain bursting

from the cuts on her back. A strangled cry of agony ripped from her throat,

and she nearly dropped the stake. Drawing in a deep breath, she crouched,

waiting, her heart thumping. He met her gaze, his eyes red fiery coals in his

dark face.

With a wild growl, he approached her, slower this time, more wary . . .

more dangerous. She couldn’t miss again. Not and live.

“Hayley!” Rurik burst through the door, momentarily diverting Paul’s

attention.

That was all she needed. With a burst of energy, she planted the stake

through Paul’s heart then jumped back.

In another situation, his look of surprise would have been comical. As it

was, she held her breath as he seemed to melt, his bones disintegrating and

the skin collapsing until he finally dissolved into a pile of dust.

Her tense muscles collapsed, and she sank gratefully into Rurik’s arms

as he wrapped them around her. “Are you all right?”

“More or less.” She hadn’t been bitten. That was the main thing. But

her shoulder throbbed with such pain, she found it difficult to concentrate.

“I think my wounds opened up.”

“Let me see.” He tugged her sweatshirt over her head so quickly, she

barely had time to grab it and press it against her exposed chest as he turned

her around. “Not that bad.”

He released her in order to go into the bathroom. Returning at once

with the ointment and bandages, he treated her wounds with such

tenderness it made her chest ache. “It’s actually healing well,” he added as he

applied the last bandage. “With Paul gone, perhaps you’ll get a chance to

rest.”

“I wish.” Hayley turned back to face him, acutely aware of his presence.

Concentrate on business
. “There’s still the Destroyer.”

Rurik hesitated then rested his hands on her bare shoulders. “I need

to—”

“Thank goodness you showed up when you did.” Hayley spoke quickly,

his gentle touch triggering an aching response within her. She rambled on,

saying anything to keep from facing these feelings. “You distracted him. It

made a huge difference. And here I wasn’t sure I wanted you to come over.”

“Why not?”

The softness of his question made Hayley grimace. She hadn’t intended

to say quite so much. She eased away from him before answering. “I don’t

trust myself around you,” she admitted. “You make me feel.”

“Feel what?”

She shrugged, unwilling to put her inner turmoil into words. “Just feel.”

A slow smile caressed his lips. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“It can be.” Hayley’s heart quickened as he rubbed his thumbs against

her throat. He rested one thumb on her pulse as if timing it. Could he feel its

rapid beat? She studied him for a moment before continuing. “It’s a luxury I

can’t afford. If I feel, how can I keep doing what I have to do?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to stop.”

His words hardly registered as his lips claimed hers in a kiss that

demanded a response. Though she knew better, she answered readily, her

earlier adrenaline giving way to the fiery tendrils of desire.

“I want you, Hayley. You make me feel alive again,” he whispered, his

lips brushing hers. “I can’t lose you.”

Had anyone ever made her feel so special? In her previous life, she’d

dedicated herself to work as a legal assistant, to doing the best job she could

even if it meant ten to twelve hour days. Outings had been few and then

usually with Lissa.

After Lissa, well, she’d tried to stop feeling, stop caring about anything.

Rurik sure managed to shake that up.

Every nerve ending tingled with awareness as he slid his hands over her

bare back, avoiding the bandages while leaving a trail of sensitivity in his

wake.

He swallowed the moan that rose in her throat, seducing her mouth

with expert lips and tongue, adding to the ache inside her. Sliding his hands

forward, he tugged her sweatshirt free of her nerveless fingers then cupped

her swollen breasts and brushed his thumbs over her erect nipples.

An arrow of need pierced her, and she arched into his hands as a cry

escaped her. “Rurik . . .” The overwhelming sensations made it difficult to

speak.

“I want you,” he murmured, bending to draw one peak into his mouth,

his tongue inflicting even more darts of desire. He moved to her other

breast. “I need you.”

“Yes.” Why deny herself this pleasure, this yearning so intense it

consumed her? She wound her hands into his thick black hair, the smooth

silkiness of it as seductive as the rest of him.

Leaving her breasts, he pressed kisses along her skin, following a path

blazed by his skillful hands. Over her stomach, down lower, sliding her

sweatpants and underwear off as he went until she stood naked before him.

He found her aching bud with his fingers, driving her internal pressure

higher until she could no longer control the rocking of her hips, the need to

be filled.

He guided her backward onto the bed, parting her legs in order to

replace his fingers with his mouth. Within moments, reality ceased to exist.

All she knew were the tightening ropes of desire, the struggle to breathe, the