The Heat (12 page)

“I can’t do this,” she said. It just came out. She couldn’t help it. Her knees were feeling weak. She was terrified.

James knelt to speak to her, placing his lips near her ear as if to have a private word. It was a pointless gesture, as the werewolves in the garage could have heard a whisper several houses down. He did it for her benefit and her benefit alone.

“I understand your fear, Lily,” he spoke softly. His hands on her arms were warm, his grip secure. “Mr. Cole isn’t going to harm you. You are the last person on Earth that he would see hurt.”

“What about Tabitha?” Lily asked.

To that, James had no answer. He straightened and gave her another few seconds to compose herself before he gently urged her forward. He kept a steady hold on her so that she wouldn’t trip or fall as he guided her up the set of stairs that led out of the dim garage. And also, Lily suspected, so that she wouldn’t try to run.

At the top, they opened a door and ushered her through it.

They walked through a kitchen and then stepped out into a vast living room. It was devoid of furniture but for a single wooden chair. In the chair sat Tabitha. She had been bound with rope and gagged with a commercial leather gag. Her red cheeks were painted with tears. There were two other people in the room, one to either side of her chair.

A red-haired woman with an impossibly dark tan who looked to be in her late fifties stood to Tabitha’s right.

Malcolm Cole stood to Tabitha’s left.

Lily would have known him anywhere and in a heartbeat. She’d seen this man in her dreams countless times, and each time he’d looked exactly as he did now. He was tall and well-built, with a thick head of dark brown hair. He was even dressed as he dressed in her dreams: tight blue jeans that hugged the muscles of his legs, and a long-sleeved white thermal shirt that had been shoved up on his arms to expose the leather bands around his wrists. He was exactly the same. It was staggering to suddenly be presented with a phantom from her imagination who was anything
but
a phantom. But what made her breath literally hitch in her chest and her heart plummet into her belly were his eyes.

Those impossible, stark green eyes…

When they found Lily’s and locked on, she froze suddenly in place. She was simply unable to move any further. Those green eyes gazed out from a face so handsome that it was maddening. It was the kind of handsome that made women dig their fingernails into their palms and kick off all of their covers at night. A sleep-depriving kind of handsome.

She could barely stand to look at him.

Yet, he would not allow her to look away. The jade of his eyes darkened to a deep emerald and Cole’s pupils expanded hungrily. “Lily,” he spoke softly. One word and his deep voice reached out across the space between them and wrapped mercilessly around her. It was almost a physical thing, and Lily instantly knew that it wasn’t natural. Daniel’s voice had always been incredibly sexy; it sent shivers down Lily’s spine and warmed her belly. But Cole’s held very real, very potent power. She guessed it was yet another werewolf ability that he possessed and that other werewolves did not. Tabitha hadn’t mentioned it, but she may not have known. She was right about one thing, however. Malcolm Cole was truly powerful.

With that thought, Lily summoned up a great deal of her own power from God only knew where and willfully ripped her gaze from Cole’s. It almost hurt. She partly did it out of stubbornness and partly out of anger that he’d managed to pull her this far into his spider’s web. But she also did it so that she could look at her friend once more.

Tabitha was watching her with very wide eyes; fear practically radiating from her. But there was pride in those eyes as well.

Lily clenched her teeth and pushed air through her vocal chords. “Did you hurt her?” she asked, her voice tight.

Cole’s low laughter licked out and caressed her skin. All tension instantly fled Lily’s body as he invaded her with that laugh and her eyes closed of their own volition.

When his laughter finally died and she opened her eyes again, Cole had closed the distance between them and was towering over her, smiling a very beautiful, very evil fang-filled smile.

She gasped and tried to take a step back, but his right hand snaked out like quicksilver and grasped her left wrist, staying her. She was struck mute, unable to do anything but gaze up at him. His pupils had claimed more of the green in his eyes. Just as she had done when Daniel had cuffed her to his bed, she stared up at her captor and wondered at his beauty.
He’s so gorgeous… it isn’t fair.

“We will forego pretense, Lily,” Cole said. “As you wish.”

Oh, he was really getting to her now. It was all overwhelming her – the mark, the wine, Malcolm’s presence, his hand wrapped so securely around her wrist – and his voice. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out before she just begged the man to strip off her clothes and take her right there on the living room rug.

No!
She screamed at herself.
Don’t you dare give in, Lily!
You. Do. Not. Give. In!

Lily suppressed the wayward moan that had been inching up her throat and, instead, forced her gaze to narrow. Ever so slightly. It was enough that Malcolm Cole was impressed. His smile turned genuine, reaching the corners of his eyes, and he shook his head in wonder. “Never have I met your equal. Your strength is palpable, Lily.”

Really?
Lily thought frantically.
Because, right about now, I’d love to be both killing you and screwing you and all I can really concentrate on is the latter, so I wouldn’t call that strong.
She said none of this, of course. Because he stole what was left of her breath when he raised his left hand and it brushed across her collarbone as he picked up a lock of her golden hair to rub it admiringly between his thumb and forefinger.

The mark on her right arm began to tingle uncomfortably.

“You know why you’re here,” Cole said. “You know what I want from you.” He glanced at the hair he held. His searing gaze slid to her shoulder… her neck… to the slight swell of her breasts above the neckline of her dress. It flicked to her full lips and then once more captured her eyes. “I can hear your heartbeat, Lily,” he told her softly – so softly. “I can smell your desire. You can’t hide it from me.”

Heat was coursing up her right arm. It was coming from Daniel’s mark, as if to protest the way she was feeling toward Malcolm Cole. It was growing hotter and hotter, a steadily building pain that attempted to distract her from the lust that Cole was imposing upon her. But it was failing.

“You’re hurting, Lily,” he told her. He smiled a small smile, cocking his head slightly to one side. He knew what was happening to her. “I can take the pain away.” Malcolm reached down, sliding his left hand along her right arm until he held her right wrist. He lifted her arm, and his fingers lazily grazed over the mark on the inside, sending jolts of both pleasure, from him – and pain, from the mark – through her. She bucked a little in his grip, but he was so close that she only managed to momentarily press herself against him. “But not as long as you wear this,” he told her in that perfect British accent.

Lily whimpered softly; her arm was now on fire. And she couldn’t even pull away from Cole enough to cradle it.

“I am told that all I need from you is your consent, Lily. And I can remove it.” He slowly released her wrist and slid his hand back up the outside of her arm until it lightly grazed her shoulder, sending electric waves of unnatural pleasure through Lily.

Daniel’s mark throbbed. She wanted it to stop. She ached for Cole; she was wet with need. Her mind was growing fuzzier. All she could hear was Malcolm’s voice and she just wanted the pain and longing to end.

Cole slid his hand to her neck and wrapped his fingers around it, lightly tilting her head up so that his lips whispered across hers. “Tell me, luv,” he smoothly commanded, his words sending another jolt of pleasure through her. She shuddered, fighting a losing battle as he brought his hand to her face to tenderly cup her cheek in his palm. Then he leaned forward and, as he brushed his thumb across her jaw line, he drew her very close and placed his lips to her ear. “May I remove it, Lily?”

Uncompromising need swept through Lily. It was harsh and exacting and knocked her senseless. His voice had her like a vice; his breath on her ear like kerosene on the fire that was engulfing her. It was unbearable. She was unaware that her right hand had found his hard, trim waist and was fisting in his shirt. She was unaware that her ragged breaths filled the silence in the room. Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see how Cole watched her, willing her to surrender as he poured wave after wave of his power over her.

She opened her mouth and could not prevent the sound that came out of it. “Yes,” she whispered. “
Please.
”

At once, Malcolm’s grip on her wrist tightened.

The sound of someone screaming into a gag sliced through Lily’s world. Her eyes flew open only to be instantly claimed by Malcolm’s once more. This time, his were all-pupil, that eerie, unnatural black of the predator before it takes its prey.

Where erotic pleasure had resided, fluxing through her body only moments before, fear now clamored its way back up from the recesses of her mind and gained a strong foothold. She tried to pull away. Malcolm smiled, showing her his fangs once more. “Allow me introduce you to someone, luv,” he told her. His voice had changed, becoming more like a growl, as Daniel’s had done in his bedroom.

The pain in her arm was receding now, but so was her desire. Her mind was clearing and she knew that Cole was reigning in his power, sparing her from its effects now that he had what he needed. He had her permission to remove Daniel’s mark.

So that he could make her his own.

With that thought came the surge of strength that Lily had been yearning for. She jerked frantically in his hold, yanking at her arm as hard as she could, but Cole’s grip was fast and she only managed to bruise herself in her efforts. Even as she fought against him, Malcolm calmly led her toward the center of the room, where Tabitha sat tied to the chair, now sobbing into her gag once more. The red-haired woman stood beside her, a horrible smirk on her over-tanned, slightly orange face.

“Lily, this is Eva,” Malcolm told her, his tone conversational. “She is going to remove Kane’s mark for us.”

With that, he nodded toward the older woman and she straightened as if prepared to take charge. “Hold her down,” she instructed. “This is going to hurt her, and I need uninterrupted access to the mark.”

Malcolm immediately nodded toward Thomas, who came forward to help. James and Isaac still stood where they’d stopped as they’d entered the living room, their eyes silently taking everything in.

Lily’s heart slammed hard against her rib cage. Despair washed over her.
Oh God, no!
she thought.
What have I done? No, no, no, no….

In a matter of short seconds, the two werewolves had her on her back in the center of the carpet, her arms and legs spread eagled. Thomas held her legs. Malcolm pressed each of her wrists into the rug. His eyes bored into hers. But she managed to look away. Dread was fueling her now and the one she dreaded had long red hair and baked skin.

“What are you going to do?” Lily asked her, dangerously close to hysterics.

“It’s a complicated spell, I’m afraid,” Eva told her as she went about placing candles around them on the carpet. “But lucky for us, I anticipated your consent and started it before you got here.” The candles were a strange red-brown-black color and when the woman lit them, they smelled truly terrible.

It’s blood,
Lily thought.
I know it is.

“Yes,” Eva told her, a malicious delight lacing her words. “It
is
blood. Smells enticing, doesn’t it?”

Lily watched with horror as the candles began to melt at the top and rivulets of thick red liquid dropped down the sides to pool on the white-beige carpet, staining it crimson.

And then Eva was kneeling beside Lily’s prone form, her hands extended, palms down, over the blue line that marked Lily’s arm and shimmered hopelessly in the candle light.

Thunder rolled outside. The sun was setting and a storm was coming in its wake.

Tabitha began to struggle where she was tied in her chair. Lily’s eyes found hers and they locked on to one another in shared desperation. Lily had nothing left to bargain with; she realized that now. Once the mark was gone, Malcolm would simply claim her. There was nothing she would be able to do to stop it. It would probably be violent and Lily would never again know a moment of peace.

But what hurt even more was the knowledge that, with her consent, she’d given away any hope she had of bartering for Tabitha’s freedom. She had no guarantee that he would let her go. In fact, why would he?

He was a killer. And he wouldn’t want the werewolves interfering with whatever plans he had for her new future. He would kill Tabitha. And then he would find a way to kill Daniel too.

As if he could sense what she was thinking, Malcolm squeezed her wrists tighter, painfully, purposefully drawing her attention back up to him. He captured her gaze and held it; his dark look was a promise.

Lily sobbed.

Eva began to chant. They were words that Lily did not recognize.

Daniel’s mark began to glow. Lily’s eyes widened. She gazed at it, fascinated, until it began to sting. And then that stinging became a sharp, slicing pain – and that pain laced up her arm and across her chest, ripping a piercing cry from her throat. She arched against the sudden torture and Thomas and Malcolm re-enforced their grips.

Eva continued to chant her horrible magic and another scream emanated from Lily’s throat. It did nothing to alleviate the pain. Another scream – another racing agony – another roaring roll of thunder from outside that drew closer with each evil second.

Eva’s chant ended, but she continued to hold her hands palms down over Lily’s mark and the magic continued to work as the sickening smoke from the candles rose in red-black wisps and seemed to swirl into strange shapes before it dissipated entirely.