Vein of Love (Blackest Gold Book 1) (7 page)

“Stay out of my
way
,” Tensley said, shoving Derrek aside and leaving the way he’d come.

Molly’s shoulders relaxed and she pressed a shaky hand to her forehead.

“Derrek? What happened? Did it work?” Fiona’s footsteps pounded down the staircase.

“Dad,” Molly said softly, alerting him to her presence.

He hung his head and ran his hands through his thinning hair. “I want him out! He’s dangerous! I’m your father and I can’t protect you!”

“Dad, you have to stop. You're going to get yourself killed!”

“I'll go after him. I'll give them anything. I'm not letting him hurt you!” He moved to the front door and Molly ran after him, reaching for his arm.

“Ow!” he yelped, and Molly jumped back, trembling.

“Molly!” Her mother’s shriek filled the house. “Control yourself.”

A bright red handprint stood out on his skin.
Oh god! What’s wrong with me?
“Dad,” she said, voice shaky.

“Honey, please.” His eyes glistened with tears, bruises coloring his cheekbones.

“I’m sorry, Dad; I didn’t mean to…” Molly croaked. “Just stay away from him and let me deal with him.”

Her dad’s grimace transformed to one of panic. “Molly—”

“He can’t hurt me, not like you two. He…” It was then that it settled in
so
painfully slow that her breath hitched. “You’re weapons. You’re weapons he uses against me and I can’t let him do that. Not any more. Just
please
don’t interfere. You have to leave.” She fought the burn growing behind her eyes and glared at both of them. “If you love me, you’ll leave the house now, go to the Hamptons until
I
get this under control. I can deal with him—he won’t hurt me.” She steeled her expression and hoped they didn’t hear the hesitation in her voice. She wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t hurt her…

Her father wrinkled his forehead, pain sketched onto his features. “Molly, what kind of parents would we be if we just left you here alone with him?”

Molly smiled softly. “Please, trust me. I can handle him.”

Fiona broke out into a sob and clutched her chest.

Molly brushed past her mother on the stairs, ignoring their eyes burning holes into her back. When she reached the top floor, she ripped
The Rosier
from Tensley’s suitcase and went into her bedroom. She gripped the knife and leaned against the headboard, waiting, waiting for him to return.

Her phone buzzed, and when she saw Michael’s face lighting up the screen, her heart ached.
There’s no way I can see him or he’ll be a weapon, too.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft.

“Molly? You okay?”

She closed her eyes and clenched the knife. “Yeah, just tired.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I was wondering if, uh, you were free. You know, since we talked about going out during the year…” He was speaking rapidly; he sounded nervous.

Is he…is he asking me out?
“Oh.”

“It’s not a date—I mean, it could be…if you wanted it to be.” He laughed softly to himself. “I got Yankee tickets, front row. Since you love the Yankees as much as me, I’d thought you’d be the best person to go with. We could go for supper after…or not?”

He’s asking me out? To the Yankees? Why does he have to do this now? When all this is happening? Why not a month ago? Or a week, even.

“Molly?”

But she couldn’t. Not when it would endanger Michael.

She blinked back tears. “Michael, I—I’m seeing someone.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, that’s cool,” he said, his pep sounding forced. “Guess I waited too long to make a move, huh?” She covered her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her sob. “Okay, well, I’ll see you later then?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it. “Y-yes. Later.”

When they hung up, she cried openly, hand tightening around the knife.

Tensley had just taken everything away—September, Michael, her parents, her freedom. She wasn’t going to let him take anything else. Over her dead body.

“I’ll destroy you.” Her body shook. “And everyone around you.”

THE GIRL LOCKED
eyes with Tensley through the sultry, thick air, and he knew he had her. She licked at her dark purple lipstick, posture straightening fast as his desirable pheromones took over her senses, igniting her sex drive. When she approached him, he noted her dilated pupils, a huge indication that his power was working. He tilted his chin upward and simply smiled. That was all it took.

The redhead was mercilessly savage as she groped his chest, but Tensley couldn’t argue. He needed physical contact; even someone hanging off his arm, stroking his chest, nibbling on his earlobe was doable for a period of time. The guilt of being with someone else other than Evelyn stung, however. The downside to being an incubus: the constant need for intimacy for health. The upside? He had no problems attracting suitors. He simply locked eyes, tipped his chin, and sent off pheromones of heightened sexual attraction, and they were swinging their hips toward him, giddy from his heated gaze. He sent off the pheromones, they chose to approach him and he charmed them with his relaxed, polished words.

When he had done the same to Molly, she’d struggled against the pull, but he had caught moments where she would heed his abilities and be drawn to him.

He moved Redhead to a crowded corner of the club and placed himself in front of her as she continued to kiss his neck. He concentrated on the industrial brick wall, feeling his energy strengthen a tiny bit. It wasn’t the same as sex or if he was actually participating in the act, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Evelyn’s dark eyes flashed in his head, and his hands curled against the wall. If he didn’t keep up at least a bit of strength, his health would decline, and with his role, he couldn’t risk being weak.

Fingers grasped his jaw, and her chapped lips scratched against his. He shoved her hand away, stepping back.

“What’s your name, handsome?” she continued, her thick makeup making her look clownish in the club’s strobe lighting.

He gripped her throat and shoved her back against the wall. Leaning in close, he bared his teeth. “No kissing on the mouth, understood?”

She blinked several times before she nodded. His hand spread down her throat to her collarbone and lingered, feeling her heart beating wildly. The girl wanted him. Badly.

“Good.” He threw her head back and nipped at her jaw, making his way up to her ear. When she tried to touch his face, he glared and roughly removed her hands again.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be the damn predator his kind was known as for centuries. He’d amassed enough energy tonight; he wasn’t going to waste his time avoiding the Darling household.

“Come home with me,” Redhead giggled, gripping at his bicep. She was lightheaded off his touch, off his incubus seduction.

He glowered down at her hand, manicured with long, red nails. “I’m not your type.”

She swung her head back to the beat of the fast-paced music, then lost her footing and balanced against him, laughing loudly. “You’re exactly what I’m looking for, babe.”

He sneered, fed up—then transformed his pheromones from seductive to pure aggression. She took an unsteady step back. “I’m
not
your type,” he repeated, yanking at the lapels on his suit jacket. He patted his breast pocket to feel the sharpened blade tucked away there, a nervous habit, and headed out the back door, exhaling when the breezy summer night air graced his hot flesh.

Just as his shoulders relaxed, his phone buzzed and all the tension returned. “What?” he answered in a clipped tone. 

“Bad timing?” said Lex, too chipper for him.

“I’m busy.” Cradling the phone between his shoulder and cheek, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his lighter and a cigarette laced with belladonna. He needed nicotine.
Now.

“I hope you apologized to her,” Lex said anyway, and he rolled his eyes at her stubborn desire to fix everyone’s problems. “She was puking in the hallway. Did you really have to kill the guy?”

Gross. Now he’d have to replace that plant.

“He was out of line. He threatened to expose her, and then mocked me
about Scorpios and my family. He wanted a hundred nyxes—what the hell does he need with that much money?” Tensley walked down a dark alley, smoke billowing behind him in a heavy stream.

Lex hummed. “Well, you terrified her.”

“
Good
.”

“You don’t mean that,” she said.

He stopped walking, closing his eyes and registering the softness in her voice. He reminded himself Lex was just an eighteen-year-old, one who’d spent two-thirds of her life living in fear, and took a breath, moving forward.

“It’s a lot easier if she sees me like everyone else in our world does: a cold, heartless bastard,” he said, an ache blooming in his chest.

She laughed humorlessly. “You mean the heartless bastard who saved me when he could have just moved along to different scraps?”

“You caught me on a good day.”

She laughed, the familiar sound calming his nerves.

He rubbed the back of his sweaty neck. “Where are you?”

“Calm down,
Dad.
I’m at my apartment painting my nails. Oh and I just ate the strangest, most delicious memory ever. He was on the subway, and I just leaned in a bit and touched his hand and oh my god, so good. First sour, and then so sweet.” She sighed dreamily, as if she could still taste it.

“Soul eaters…” Tensley tsked.

“Is this where I’m supposed to pity you? It’s not like incubi are on the top of the food chain or anything. I wouldn’t mind being an incubus. All the sexy times and power,” she said, snorting.

“Trust me, it’s not all great, not when you don’t want randoms. I don’t want to be a damn predator.”

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you’ve still got a thing with Evelyn. Isn’t that
over
yet?”

“No it’s not
over
yet. We’re still together, just taking some space for the time being. I’ll figure out a way to keep the daemon safe and still be with her.”

Lex was silent.

“I know you don’t like her—”

“She hates me because she thinks I’m into you. I see you as my damn brother. She needs to calm down,” Lex huffed.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Whatever. I’m heading out to a house party and then going undercover for a while, so if you don’t hear from me for a few weeks, don’t panic, okay?”

He would panic anyway. “Sure.”

“Apologize to Molly,” she warned. He rolled his eyes at her bossy tone.

“Lex?”

“Yeah?”

He swallowed. “Be safe.”

“Always am.”

He shoved his phone into his pocket after they’d hung up, surveying the busy avenue up ahead.

He didn’t want the pressure, he didn’t want to do anything with the daemon—but if he
didn’t
, he was risking his entire family’s recompense.

Tensley breathed in sharply, stretching his fingers as the nicotine unfurled throughout his bloodstream, giving him that buzzy, lightheaded sensation. If only it could burn away his emotions, burn it all so he didn’t care any more.

He threw the cigarette to the ground, stubbed it with the toe of his shoe, and imagined it was
her.

AMBIENT LIGHT FROM
the hallway assaulted Molly’s eyes, and she peeled one open.

Shit, I fell asleep. Shit, shit, shit!

The rest of the room was dark, and she saw a figure by the door, framed by the light from the hallway.

Her heart stalled, then rebooted to the point of shattering her ribcage.

Tensley.

He walked through the darkness, and she couldn’t help but note how he was shrugging out of his shirt, the defined muscles of his torso bunching and flexing with every movement.
Oh god.
Dark lines tattooed his sides. She wanted to—
stop it Molly!
No psychopaths, remember?

With one shallow breath, she pulled herself together. She’d been prepared, fighting sleep, the knife clenched in her shaking hand—and now, after a few minutes of dozing, she was vulnerable. Attempting to go unnoticed, she slid her hand across the silk covers, searching for the blade.

“I hope you don’t snore,” he said in a husky whisper, stalking to the bed. He leaned over her at the same moment she finally grasped the sharp edge of the knife, and she could smell his sweat, pungent and masculine.

She twisted the knife into her palm and spoke with as much steadiness possible. “No, I don’t snore. Do you?” For once, the darkness was her friend; he wouldn’t be able to see her red cheeks and pressured, stone-hard face. If anything, he would end up laughing in it.

Which he did anyway. “Do I look like someone who snores?”

She gnawed the inside of her cheek. “Maybe.”

He stood up to his full, imposing height. “
Maybe?
” He looked across the bed at the books sprawled out on the comforter.
Oops.
“Did you take my books?”

“Uh—”

“
Don’t
touch my things. If you want something, ask for it.” With a gruff curse, he tossed the books back into his suitcase.

Her grip tightened on the blade. “I wanted answers,” she whispered.

He watched her intently, hands beginning to tremble—trying to hold his anger at bay, she guessed. “Tell your father that if he steps out of line again, I won’t stop the blade at his throat. What the hell was he thinking? If I hadn’t talked my father down, he would have decapitated him
.
And the fucking poison? If he pulls that shit again, he’s done. Got it?”

Molly flinched. He had admitted to saving her father’s life and in the same breath threatened it once more. “Why?”

He searched through his suitcase, forehead wrinkled in fury. “Why
what?
” 

“Why did you save him?”

“Because I figured you wouldn’t be pleased if I brought you your father’s head.”

She swallowed a whimper. “But—that man you killed, he deserved it?”

“Would you rather him squeal about my
little secret?
”

She resisted her body’s urge to shiver and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Just leave my family alone. Don't involve them in this, okay? That’s all I ask.” He paused and gazed at her through his lashes, a look that flashed approval. Molly hid her shaking hands. “
Okay?
”

Tensley scowled. “You’re bargaining for your family’s lives?”

“Yes,” she said, breathless.

His eyes narrowed. “Fine. You care about your family? Then you need to follow these rules.”

What now?
“Oh?”

“One: Do not tell people who I am. To your low-bred kind, I’m your fiancé. If they find out, I’ll either have to break their bones until they agree to stay quiet, or finish them off.” Her chest tightened. He raised his finger, firmly shaking it at her. “Two: If I tell you to do something—be it to stay away from my fucking stuff, to listen to my orders, or whatever else I can think of—you’ll do it without a damn word otherwise.” He advanced, eyes sharp and tone bitter. “Three: Nothing romantic or sweet will ever happen between us. No cuddling, no sweet declarations of nonsense.” Molly’s breath stuttered in her lungs as she crawled away from him and farther up the bed. “And lastly, I don’t kiss on the lips.” He leaned down, a smirk tugging at his soft mouth. “But I
do
kiss everywhere else.”

Molly slammed into the headboard.
What the hell is wrong with him?
“Ow! Geez…” She rubbed the knot already forming at the base of her skull with her free hand.

“Careful. Don’t hurt yourself over me,
gattina
.” His eyes gleamed, victorious.

Her body tensed at his voice, and if she was bleeding from clenching the knife beneath her pillow, she couldn’t feel it. “
Gattina?
”

His smile deepened…dark and sexual. “Italian for kitten…tiny, small, inconsequential.”

He’s taunting me.
She rolled away from him and onto her feet on the other side of the bed, unbalanced.

He gave her a flat look, eyes taking a moment to register the butcher knife clenched in her white fist. “You want to fight me?” He chortled deep in his throat. “Sweetheart, you don’t want to fight me.”

Be brave.
Her hands didn’t get the message though, continuing to shake uncontrollably. She convinced herself it was her rage.

“I bet you don’t even know how to use one of those,” he said, gesturing leisurely with his hand to the knife. “First, you have to move it—well, first you have to have
muscle
to move it fast enough, which, from my examination of your body earlier, you lack. Immensely. Second—”

“I can move it!” she hollered, slicing the blade up and down. He was getting under her skin, and his satisfied expression told her he knew it.

He clapped mockingly. “Bravo. Well, I’m thrilled we solved that dilemma. Now let’s solve another.” He took one large stride and she panicked.

“Don’t come any closer.” She pointed the knife at him, and he slowed. “I swear, I’ll do it.”

His eyes flickered over her trembling stance, and he stifled a laugh as his thumb traced his bottom lip. He had a mouth meant for speaking sweet nothings, and he misused it terribly. “You’re shaking,
ciccia
.”

She scanned his toned stomach, the dark happy trail leading to the band of his slacks, which sat dangerously low, revealing the sharp V of his pelvic bone. Any lower—
Stop it.
When her eyes aligned with his again, a dark humor permeated his grey irises. “I’ll stab you. I’m not afraid of you.”

“I’d say you have nothing to fear.” He tilted his head to the side. “But that’d be a lie.” He was in front of her in a blur and she jolted backward, stumbling into her dresser and sending the picture frames full of awkward high school photos to the ground.
God, he’s fast!
Now they were toe-to-toe—her barefooted and him in his laced-up Gucci dress shoes
.
“C’mon,
princess
. Hit me,
ciccia
.” Her eyes widened at his burning gaze.
Stop calling me things in Italian, dickhead.
“A little something? Maybe a little bite, no?”

His low laughter rumbled in his chest. “All talk, are we? You can’t hurt a thing. You that
soft?
Do you even have a backbone? Or is that, too, made out of Jell-O?”

She couldn’t stab him, but she could make him back off.

She pressed the point of the knife to her own throat hard enough that it broke the skin, and she had to suppress a cry of pain.

His playful expression vanished.

“Step back or I’ll do it,” she said.

A large, strong hand encaged her wrist. “Drop it.” Her eyes dug into his, challenging him. When Molly didn’t obey, Tensley shoved her against the dresser, prying her fingers away from the knife’s base with practiced ease.
Jesus Christ!
It thudded loudly on the wooden floor at the same.

Her heart raced—no weapons, nothing to protect her.

“You won’t hurt me because you have a conscience,” he said. “A delicate, weak heart. And I have—well, since you rummaged through my stuff, why don’t you tell me?”

She swallowed, attempting to analyze his darkened features. Anger and annoyance laced his voice.
Piss off the beast, Molly. Good plan.

She thought back to his books. “You’re heartless.”

“And you know what that means?” He lowered his mouth to her ear, hot breath hitting her chilled flesh. “It means I don’t give a damn about a hair on your innocent little head.”

He straightened, still trapping her with his solid figure. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t look at the monster about to devour her.

“If I could smell fear, I’d say you reeked of it,” he said, tone low and smug. “And I hate fighting an unworthy opponent.”

No—no! Be strong!
The cool sensation stirred behind her eyes, and she knew her power was kicking in.

She peered up at him, her naked, glowing eyes stalling his movements.

“I’m valuable to you. You won’t hurt me, because you
need
me,” she said firmly.

His hardened features smoothed to an awestruck stare. She breathed shallowly and in a split second, shoved him back. He stumbled, catching his footing before he fell over.

Tensley advanced again, but wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Don’t,” Molly said as sternly as possible. “
No
.”

He folded his arms and cocked a brow. “What’s the matter with you? Never been touched by a man before?”

Her entire body flamed. “I-I…um.” She rubbed her neck where he’d choked her.

Tensley’s face twisted oddly as he studied her; he looked genuinely surprised. “You
haven’t
been touched by a man before.”

She swallowed the large, uncomfortable lump in her throat, distressed beyond measure.
That is none of his goddamn business.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, stepping back, unable to stop staring at her. She waited for him to mock her, to make fun of her, but it never came. Instead, he turned and threw a book into his suitcase. “Just don’t threaten me with self-harm again, capiche?” His voice turned cold, dangerous, and he jerked his head up, dark stark eyes drilling her.

“More rules?” she said, thankful for the space between them. “Fine. My rule: Be scarce around here. Make me forget you exist.”

“Fine by me,” he drawled, reaching down for his suitcase. As he turned, the bag thrown over his shoulder, he paused. He tossed
The Rosier
back onto her bed. “Here. I brought this for you. Educate yourself before you try to attack me again.”

Molly glowered. “You’re not staying here.”

“Guestroom. I’d prefer not to sleep with someone who tried to gut me.” He smiled smugly at her. “And
darling,
it’ll be your death wish if you get rid of me. Remember that.”