Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (16 page)

Their joining had been like nothing she had ever experienced before. Fragments of desire still pulsed through her body. She felt connected to Elliot in a way she never thought possible. He had not only claimed her body, but she feared he had claimed her heart and soul, too.

One terrifying question consumed her. Why had he not withdrawn?

"Now do you know what I mean when I promised you release?" he said, drawing her closer to his warm body and rolling onto his side, despite the fact he was still buried inside her. "I assume you found it pleasurable?"

She cuddled into him as a way of banishing all worries from her mind temporarily. "I feel wonderful. I did not know it was possible to experience such a thing."

He chuckled. "You writhe in such a seductive way, and the sweetest moans escape from your lips. It is a wonderful sight to behold."

"As is your face. It lit up the whole room." Knowing she had no option but to ask the next question, she caressed his chest as a distraction. "You know when you want to prevent … when you don't want—"

"I am incapable of fathering a child, Grace," he said as he eased himself out of her and rolled onto his back. "I've been told it is a consequence of my affliction."

A hard lump formed in her throat. It took a moment for her to determine why.

She wanted him, for now, for always. But she wanted children.

"Will it always be that way?" she said, and her voice sounded a little solemn.

"I'm afraid there is no cure. Of that I am certain."

A cold chill breezed over her and she shivered. Was there more to this illness that he hadn't told her?

"You're cold. Let's slide under the sheets and we'll soon have you warm again."

She studied his face as it was difficult to know what he was thinking. "You want to stay in bed for a while?"

"I do." He sounded just as surprised.

Perhaps it was time to touch upon another of her fearful thoughts.

"Is it wise? I … I heard you never touch the same lady twice."

He stared into her eyes, brushed her hair from her face. "For you, I will make an exception."

Chapter 14

Elliot pulled back the sheets and they climbed into bed.

He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he wanted her again. Now. He wanted to hear her little pants and moans. He wanted to feel her essence surround him, wanted to feel the same bone-shattering release he'd felt moments earlier.

When she propped herself up on her elbow and her sapphire-blue eyes studied his face, he knew the question she would ask before her lips formed the words.

"How did you come by this terrible affliction? If it is not contagious, how is it Alexander has it, too?"

He contemplated lying to her. But knowing Evelyn, she may have already told her about the golden-haired temptress. Besides, Grace had confided in him, confessed to her mistakes.

She would not judge him.

Elliot closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He couldn't do it. He couldn't let the words leave his lips. They lay buried beneath a veil of arrogance that had taken years to perfect, buried so deep they were almost lost to him.

"It is complicated," he said in an attempt to placate her.

"You do not have to tell me anything, Elliot. But know you can trust me with your secret."

In the last four years, he had never considered telling anyone about his affliction. If he waited for an eternity, he doubted he would find anyone else he could confide in.

"It is not a disease, Grace," he suddenly said, a little shocked at how easily he had submitted. "It is the Devil's curse. The story of how I came by it is far worse than any nightmare."

A frown marred her pretty brow. "A curse? You're not serious?"

"I have never been more serious about anything."

"Someone cursed you?"

Elliot swallowed. "Someone bit me. Transferred their evil poison into my blood."

"Bit you! But why?"

It was a question he had spent long torturous hours deliberating. "I have no idea. I have asked myself the same question a hundred times, and there is only one feasible answer — revenge."

Her eyes grew wide. "You know the person who did this to you?"

He struggled to raise a smile. "No. I do not know her. But she had a look in her eyes, a hatred for man. She also bit Alexander and Leo—"

"Your friend, the Turkish prince," she gasped. "He suffers with it, too?"

"We were bitten at different times, in different locations. Although all within miles of her home it seems."

"But if you do not know her, why would she mark you as the object to satisfy her need for revenge?"

Elliot brushed his hand through his hair. "The only commonality we shared is that we were all libertines. We all used women for our own pleasure without thought or feeling."

Grace raised a brow. "Were libertines?" The words carried a hint of contempt mingled with disbelief.

"I refuse to change my ways because some golden-haired temptress ruined my life in a fit of rage. I refuse to let her beat me. I refuse to let her win."

A look of sadness swamped her countenance. "But have you won, Elliot? Does refusing to show any emotion truly make you the victor?"

"I show emotion with you," he said acknowledging she was not simply another woman he used to ease his boredom.

"Of course," she replied, although he sensed her doubt, her lack of confidence in him. "Do you still see her?"

Elliot sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. "I have not laid eyes on her for four years. Not since that fateful night in Bavaria."

"Bavaria?"

She fell silent for a moment, and he became aware of her full breasts pushing against his ribs. In the past, whenever he thought of the dreadful night he turned from human to demon, he'd look to his ravenous appetite to numb the pain. Until today, he had not cared where he put his cock.

"Tell me about the night you met her." Grace ran her hand over his chest, the motion soft and soothing. Her tone held a rich, seductive quality and he wondered if she had her own form of mind magic. "Tell me all the things you've never dared to tell another."

The rhythmical sensation relaxed him; soon his mind drifted back to the night Satan's disciple stole his humanity, stole his soul.

"I remember it was raining, although the sky appeared clear and I recall looking up and wondering what had happened to the dark clouds. I see it now as an omen, a warning of what was to come."

He sighed deeply. What he would give to feel the rain on his face again. What he would give to make a different decision, take a different path.

"It all started a couple of days before. I'd been drinking in a tavern with a lady I'd met earlier in the day," he began. "Her husband had been drinking with us, too. But he drank quickly, two drinks to every one of mine. When his head hit the table, he began to snore, and we laughed. She told me she admired me, told me I could have her if I was quick about it. She was older, yet still possessed a certain charm I could not refuse."

"It didn't matter to you that she was married?" He could hear her disappointment.

"No, Grace. It didn't matter." Now he'd started his story the words poured out like water through a breach in a dam; he decided he'd tell her everything. "There was an old graveyard just a short walk from the tavern. Rows of grey, dusty mausoleums lined the cobbled walkways to the east. Each stone building was littered with tall spires shaped in various images of a cross, stretching up so high the tops prodded the inky sky. To the west, there were tombs surrounded by iron railings, graves with broken headstones."

He fell silent not knowing if he could continue.

"You took the lady from the tavern there that night?" Her voice sounded softer now as she tried to help him finish his story. "While her husband slept."

"That night and the night after."

He knew what she was thinking. Before he'd turned, he had no problem taking the same woman twice.

"On the third night, things were different. I felt a heaviness in the air, an intense pressure, which I put down to a fear of her husband waking from his drunken slumber. I … I heard a voice in my head calling out to me, an ominous warning. But my desire to have the woman again obliterated everything else. We followed the same routine as the previous two nights, went inside the open mausoleum where it was dry, a little warmer." He dragged his gaze away from the spot on the ceiling and turned to look at her. "You do not want to hear any more of this, Grace."

She gave a weak smile. "I think you need to tell someone about it. You have buried your feelings, Elliot. You have feigned indifference, but whatever happened that night has affected you deeply."

"Perhaps. Though it is easier not to think of it."

"I know. But I'm here for you. You must continue."

He believed she did know what it felt like to have lived through a nightmare; she still carried scars, too.

"I had barely even begun when the lady from the tavern thrust her hand to her throat as she suddenly struggled and gasped for breath. Her eyes grew wide, fat and round, almost bulging from their sockets. Then, as quick as it had started, she could breathe easily again. Panic flashed in her eyes and she muttered to herself, answering silent questions. Then she turned and fled."

"What did you do?"

"I stood there, shocked and confused. I heard the voice in my head and then a woman appeared in the doorway, the hood of her travelling cloak pulled up to hide her face. In the small confines of the tomb, she seemed to have some strange power over me. Her soothing voice caused me to drift off to sleep like a babe rocked in a cradle to the hum of a sweet melody."

"Was that the woman who bit you?"

"Yes, but I only have a vague recollection of it. When I woke, my clothes had been stripped from my back, my arms held wide by iron chains threaded through metal rings in the wall."

"
You are my slave now
," she said. "
You are a slave to your own passions, a slave to the night
."

"She spent what seemed like days taunting and tormenting me, telling me all about the monster I was to become, although I know we could not have been there for more than a few hours. After she'd sunk her teeth into my neck, I must have lost consciousness."

Grace looked horrified. "What happened when you woke?"

"I thought I'd been dreaming." He couldn't help but snort as he recalled feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. "But then I noticed the branding mark burnt into my chest and when I tried to leave the mausoleum the sun scorched my skin. I fed for the first time that night." He exhaled deeply and blinked rapidly to block it all out. "It was a long time ago. I have managed to find a way to reclaim some semblance of a life."

Grace placed her head on his chest, and while they lay in silence, the devil's taunts occupied his thoughts.

No one would want him. No one could ever care for a bloodthirsty beast.

"I think we both need to put the past behind us," she said, the tip of her finger tracing the mark seared into his skin as a permanent reminder. "It's easier for me. My scars do not impact daily life as drastically as yours. But perhaps sharing the burden makes it more bearable."

"You can move on, Grace. You can have a happy life. Who would want to share in my burden or my life? Who would want to live with a man who hides a murderous monster within?"

"Someone who loves you. Someone whose life would be meaningless without you."

He swallowed as fear and hope flooded his chest, the conflicting emotions fighting for supremacy. "I have never been a dreamer," he said, as his fear announced itself the victor. "I prefer to find a way to numb all painful memories."

He tried to listen to her thoughts, but his own mind struggled to focus.

"Well, I am here for you," she said. Her hand drifted down over his chest, over the muscles in his abdomen. "You have helped me more than you will ever know. Someone had stolen the light from within. You have found it, restored it. In time, I am confident it will shine brightly again."

He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. In all the years, during all his licentious encounters, he had never kissed any other woman in so intimate, so caring a way.

"I want to do something for you," she continued. "I want to help numb your pain."

He gave a weak chuckle. "Grace, you have just given me more than I could ever have hoped."

She rolled on top of him, her soft breasts brushing against his chest as she shimmied down under the sheets. "With your help, with your expert tuition, I am sure there is more I can give."

Leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in her wake, she threw back the covers and knelt between his legs. The glorious sight alone was almost his undoing. He could sense her nerves, appreciated the selflessness of the act.

Which made the experience all the more magnificent, all the more memorable, all the more meaningful.