When Temptation Burns: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 6) (21 page)

She wanted him, but couldn’t have him. Not yet.

Regretfully, she pressed her hand over his, stilling his progress up her leg. “Not that fast,” she whispered, her voice breathless with longing.

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she felt the rise and fall of his body, the steadiness of his breathing as he gathered himself. Then he slipped an arm around her shoulder and settled a soft kiss on her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she said as he pulled her close against him.

“No,” he said fiercely. “Don’t be sorry.” He held her, his fingers stroking her arm. “I just want to hold you.”

She tilted her head up to look at him. “Really?”

He matched her incredulous tone with a sly grin. “For now,” he amended. “For now, I just want to hold you.”

She snuggled closer, pulling an afghan from the foot of the sofa over her legs and enjoying the warmth that seemed to emanate from him.

“Tell me about the first vampire you killed,” she said.

He stiffened, and she shifted around so that she was facing him. “I’m sorry. It’s probably none of my business.” And it also threw a big bucket of ice water on the mood—although she supposed that was a good thing. She was far too eager for his touch … and Andy wasn’t a girl who usually let things move as quickly as she wanted them to move with Doyle.

“No,” he said. “No, it’s all right. It’s just … well, it’s not a pleasant story.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

For a minute, she thought that he wouldn’t, because he didn’t move. He just kept his arms around her and stayed silent, letting her soak up his warmth and strength. She closed her eyes, content to drift off like that, then she was pulled back to consciousness by the low, steady tones of his voice.

“I was only ten,” he said. “But I’d already been going on expeditions with vampire hunters for years.”

“Oh my God—why?”

“My mother,” he said. “She was raped by—by one of them. One of the dark creatures that Paul’s fighting. It made her hard. She became obsessed with hunting down and destroying anything she considered evil. Anything nonhuman. It became her driving force, and she made it mine, too. She’d recruit men—hunters—to teach me what to do. To take me out with them, so that I could
not only see how vile the dark ones were, but could kill them myself. When I was ten, she had the man who was training me lock me in a vampire’s crypt right before sunset. It was a test. I survived. Barely.”

Her hand was a fist around her mother’s necklace, and she felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sitting here all eager to get started, and you were forced into it in the most horrible way.”

“I’ve made peace with it. More than that, actually. Hunting the evil creatures that live among us—bringing them to justice—it’s what gets me up in the morning.”

“Bringing them to justice.” She smiled. “Is that why you joined Homeland? Why aren’t you, I don’t know, a professional vampire hunter?”

“There’s all kinds of evil in the world. Believe me, I’ve dealt with my share.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest that your job was less important. It’s just that if hunting these dark things takes up so much of your time anyway—”

“Yeah, but the health insurance sucks.”

She grinned. “Right. Dropping the subject. What happened to your mother?”

His expression darkened so quickly that she instantly regretted asking the question.

“There came a point when she realized that she’d never win. She’d never completely eradicate the darkness. I was twelve when she put a gun to her head, and ended her fight that way.”

“Doyle.” She took his hand. “Oh, Doyle, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

He was so stoic, but she was certain that underneath he had to be hurting.

“I volunteer at a center for teens,” she said. “A lot of
them have gone through some horrific things. It always amazes me how strong the human spirit is.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re incredibly strong.”

“That sounds like a good cause,” he said, clearly trying to latch on to a new subject. “How did you get involved with that?”

“My dad’s ministry. I was never very active in his church growing up. I mean, I did what I had to do, but none of the extracurriculars, if you know what I mean. But when the ministry set up the Pacific Teen Center, I knew I wanted to be a part of it. I lost my mom when I was eleven, and so I felt a bond with those kids, you know? Even if they have both parents, a lot of them are at risk.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I like doing it.”

He reached out and brushed his fingers over her necklace. “Did your mother give you this?”

She nodded. “She was dying. And she told me that it would protect me.” She managed a thin smile. “I guess I need it now. If there’s ever a time you need God on your side it’s when you’re up to your elbows in demons.”

“Is that what you think we’re fighting?”

“Well, yeah. Unnatural creatures. Isn’t that what you said was at the core of all of them? Demons? Mom gave me this to protect me from them. And I know it doesn’t really have magical power, but it makes me feel safe. Like she’s looking out for me.”

“You said at the coffee shop that your dad had told you something about her. The way your face looked then—I could tell it was painful. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s Daddy I should be talking to, but I’m not sure I really know how. It’s got to be as painful for him as it is for me.”

“You can tell me, if it helps.”

“A werewolf killed her.” The words still sounded strange. “I just found out tonight.” She smoothed the blanket in her lap as if the motion could smooth out her jumbled thoughts, too. “I found out a lot of things tonight. I went from thinking evil is something inside of us that we need to control if we want to get into heaven to learning that real evil—demons, vampires—is out there walking around.” She waited for him to say something, but he was just watching her. “I’ve always believed that demons and angels are real—maybe that comes from growing up with a preacher for a father—but I never thought of them walking among us. I just thought of demons as the opposite of guardian angels. The antithesis of spiritual guides, you know?”

“The angel and the demon on your shoulders, whispering into alternate ears,” he said.

“Exactly. When I interviewed Creevey, I saw evil, but he’s human. And that’s the only type of evil I believed in before tonight.”

“Of course. You said you used a pen name. You’re Allison Stahl? The one who wrote those articles about Creevey?”

“That’s me, at your service.”

“Creevey was a scary son-of-a-bitch. And you’re right. He’s as evil as they come.”

“I don’t dispute it,” she said. “But it turns out there’s more. It has a face. It’s out there and real. I learned the truth today, and I already feel like I’m a different person. It’s a big job, getting rid of these creatures, but by God, after what happened to Stu, I know it’s necessary.”

He stood up and walked over to her sliding glass
door. She couldn’t see his reflection, but his back seemed rigid.

“Doyle?”

“I’m sorry you’ve had to see all of this darkness in the world.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I feel like I’ve been walking around with my eyes closed, and now they’re finally open.”

“Maybe so,” he said. “But you’re wrong about being a different person. Seeing evil—getting close to it—doesn’t change you. It just underscores who you already are.”

She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her chest. “Maybe I’ve never really known who I am. But I do know that I’ve always wanted to understand it. And fight it.” She moved to stand behind him. “Lately, I’ve felt like the articles I write are my way of fighting evil. The same way my dad does from the pulpit. But now that I know about all this, I want to do more. Do you feel like that? Like you just want to step in and do more because you’re one of the few people who know the truth, and it’s your obligation?”

He turned to her, and his eyes were sad. “Every day,” he said. “I feel like that every day.”

“I lied, you know.”

His eyes narrowed. “When?”

“I told you I wasn’t writing an article about the Dark Warriors. But I was. That was the plan, anyway. To get in deep and shine a light on this freakish group that thinks vampires and werewolves are real. Only now …” She trailed off with a shrug. “Well, suffice it to say I won’t be writing the article anymore. And I meant it when I told Paul that I wanted to help him.”

She saw the way his face tightened and the pained expression
in his eyes. She moved to stand beside him at the door, then pressed a hand to his cheek and felt the prickle of his stubble against her palm. “Doyle? What is it?”

He closed his eyes, and for a moment the connection lingered, a soft sizzle that arced between them. “You have a good heart, Andy. Promise me you’ll keep your eyes open. That you’ll really pay attention and learn about what it is you’re fighting.”

“Of course I will.”

“I just mean that when you first see this world, it’s so bright it can be blinding. Don’t think you see something just because you expect it to be there.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

He stepped back with a shrug, breaking the contact between them. Slowly, he turned back to the door and pressed his palm against the glass. “I’m tired,” he said. “And I’m talking nonsense.”

“Do you want to go home?” She hoped he didn’t.

“Do you want me to?”

“No.” The word came out so fast she had to cover it with a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so eager.”

“I like that you’re eager. I like being here.”

“Oh.” A flush of pleasure shot through her. “Me too.”

He took a step toward her, and she was suddenly totally aware of her body. Of every breath, every tingle, every hair standing up on end, anticipating his touch.
His touch, his touch, yes, how she wanted his touch again
.

Finally, he slipped his arm around her, and with a sigh of absolute contentment, she leaned against him.

“So you have a choice,” he said, his normally gruff voice taking on a soft tone.

“I like choices.”

“We can keep talking, or I can kiss you again.”

“Let’s go with option two,” she said. And then his mouth was on hers, and she was losing herself, sliding into the wonder that he desired her as much as she desired him. That she could touch him, that she could kiss him, that she could—

Oh, yes, she wanted it all.

“Doyle,” she murmured, breaking the kiss just for long enough to say his name. He clutched her tight, pulling her close, his kisses filled with an almost desperate need, like he had to drink her deep before she disappeared, and she wanted to pull back and tell him to slow down, but dear God, she didn’t want to let go for even a second.

But then they were apart, and she looked at him with bafflement. “What—”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes not meeting hers.

“About what?” she was breathing hard, feeling desperate.

“This,” he said softly, his words cutting into her heart. “We can’t do this.”

The Club Rouge was a shithole of a place—at least if you stayed in the main part of the club. Kyle had no intention of staying there, though. The main part was nothing more than a hunting ground, and he saw at least three sweet young things upon whom he’d be more than happy to lavish his affections. But that could come later …

Right now, he had someone to meet and a life to end. His own.

He whistled as he headed toward the back of the club, then down the hallway leading to the restrooms. He turned into one of the perpendicular hallways, then slowed his pace, letting his fingertips trail over the wall as he searched for the mark that Rhys had once pointed out to him. It was somewhere right around—

There
.

The gilt
S
on the wall signaled that a much more interesting club lay hidden within. Carefully, he searched the wall for a hidden latch. It took him a few minutes, but he finally found it. He looked up and down the hall, confirmed that no one was watching, and slipped inside.

“Well, well,” a feminine voice said. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Another woman eased up behind the first, then leaned forward and sniffed. “Human.” She grinned. “Guess it must be snack time.”

“I’m here to see Voight,” Kyle said. “He’ll be pissed if you don’t take me to him.”

“Did you hear that, Millicent? Voight’s going to be pissed.”

“Guess we better take him,” Millicent said. She reached out and grabbed Kyle’s collar. “Come on, human.”

He didn’t shake her hand off, but only because he knew they’d soon be equals. He’d have her then. Have her kneel in front of him. He’d show her how powerful he was, and she’d apologize for thinking that he was ever less than her, even when he’d been human.

“Well, well.” Voight was sitting at a table sipping blood from a wineglass. “My good friend Rhys’s little, lost puppy dog. I thought you were in the kennel, little puppy dog.”

“I thought you were going to get me out.”

Voight shrugged. “That was Rhys’s grand plan. And it doesn’t look like you needed help anyway. You’re out, aren’t you?”

“I want the change,” he said.