Winter's Kiss (9 page)

The trees began to thin and the mansion walls appeared out of the darkness. The sight of them brought reality back. He was a Validus. The gift that his family had given
him centuries ago was one so precious he could not lightly turn his back on them for any reason, not even for love. He still owed them so much and he feared that his debt would never be repaid. The fire had been a sign. It had been a reminder to him that his lord and his bloodline came first.

Pale stone and delicate black wrought iron marked the barrier around his family’s home. Three hundred metres to his left was the west gate. The main gate stood over four hundred metres to his right, around the corner that he could see one hundred metres away. Guards patrolled the grounds in pairs. He would need to time it so he avoided them all.

His gaze tracked to the mansion itself. In a way, it reminded him of the palaces in St. Petersburg, the nearest city. The elegant facade was the same as theirs but coloured in ochre and white, lined with many tall rectangular sash windows. The gardens were expansive and beautiful. Night blooming jasmine and roses adorned the intricate mazes of
box
hedge
and
the alcoves and arch-covered walkways. His lord had always ensured that the mansion maintained its regal appearance, one suitable for such as their bloodline.

Winter took a deep breath and asked himself if he was really going to do this. To take Nika into the Validus mansion was insane. It would be a miracle if they managed to make it to his apartment without being noticed, and then they would have to make it back out again. He could leave her out in the woods near one of the gates, somewhere that no one would notice her. If he did that, he would be able to walk through the gates

and explain to those on duty that werewolves had attacked him and that Midnight was dead.

Nika shifted against him, her scent filling his nostrils— blood mixed with werewolf.

There was an undeniable flaw in his plan. If he strode back into the mansion grounds claiming that werewolves had attacked him, the Watchmen would smell Nika’s scent all over him. Since he was their commander, they would see any attack on him as a personal affront. There was a chance that while he was inside gathering weapons and other necessities they would search for the werewolf responsible by using the scent. They could track Nika and kill her before he could return.

Or Willem could find her.

Willem, as Nika’s father had called him, would know from his uniform that he was a Validus and would return to the mansion. Winter looked around them at the woods skirting the mansion walls. What if Willem was already here waiting? Right now, the werewolf could be watching and waiting for him to part company with Nika. He couldn’t risk her by leaving her out here.

But the alternative?

If he took her into the mansion grounds and someone caught them, he would have to fight his kin or let them take her from him. He growled on instinct at the thought of anyone else touching her and gritted his teeth. His fangs elongated and his claws grew, ready for a fight even when there was none. Winter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It filled his lungs with the scent of Nika and the intoxicating smell of her rich blood. She had fully turned. It had to be the reason behind the change in its scent. It was no longer tainted.

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Now it called to him stronger than ever, a siren song that
was becoming irresistible. He couldn’t leave her out here to fend for herself. He couldn’t take her into the mansion either. The thought of having to fight his own kin—men he knew—for the sake of a werewolf made his stomach turn and chest tighten. He was a commander, a man they all respected. He respected himself because of the esteem he received from his fellow Watchmen. Duty and honour were the banners flying in his heart. Loyalty to the Validus bloodline and his lord were his reasons for living.

But Nika was in his heart too, had carved a niche out for herself that grew with every passing minute spent in her company. He feared that soon his heart would be irrevocably hers and his resolve would weaken to the extent that he surrendered to his feelings. It was pointless though. Sense and feeling waged war inside him, his heart split in two, torn between his bloodline and Nika. It pained him to think that he would go against the lord who had saved him, a man who he owed a great debt to, but also pained him to think that he would leave Nika and never see her again.

He needed to take her somewhere that she would be safe and to do so, he needed weapons and time to think without the threat of attack. He would take Nika into the mansion and then leave with her. If anyone stood in their way, he would deal with them.

His jaw clenched. What was he thinking?

To take a werewolf into the mansion was despicable enough. To consider defending her should he meet another Validus was beyond contemptible. If caught, he would willingly surrender her and himself to his lord and beg forgiveness for his weakness. He would ask his lord to take pity on Nika. He had no other choice. His heart

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demanded that he protect Nika, regardless of the pain it caused him to do so and the misery of knowing that she could never be his. He couldn’t cross that line and be with
her now. He feared the law, as any vampire did, but knew in his heart that the law alone wouldn’t stop him from being with her. The fact that she was a werewolf hadn’t stopped him from loving her. It was what the Law Keepers would do to her if they caught them. He feared the law for her sake. His desire to protect her was so strong that he couldn’t be with her for that reason, couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her. He had already failed to protect her once. He wouldn’t fail this again.

He would help Nika, would have his vengeance and kill Willem, and would return to his family.

It was the only way to keep her safe.

His only way of protecting her was to part ways with her.

Even if it broke his heart.

He only wished he knew how to help her, and where to take her. His knowledge of werewolves was limited to tracking and killing them. He didn’t know anything about how the transformation process would affect Nika. Her senses had already changed and her body’s ability to heal had become similar to his. How much more she would change, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what would happen to her when she saw a full moon or whether it would even affect her yet. He had heard mixed tales about what happened after a werewolf had gone through the transformation in regards to changing into their animal form. Some stories said that instinct controlled the first change. It happened without the consent of the werewolf’s mind and senses. Others he had heard had said that it took werewolves a full month

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before their body had gone through the intricate changes that were required as preparation for transformation into their demonic guise.

“What are we waiting for?” Nika whispered in his ear, her voice soft and feminine, adding to the lure of her blood.

“Quiet. Not a word until I say, understand?”

He felt her nod.

Would Nika change soon? Would he know what to do when she did? The first time his eyes, teeth and claws had changed it had hurt right down to the marrow of his bones. She had to change form completely into a beast. He had watched werewolves change and it had looked painful. Would she be strong enough to go through that? He wished he knew how to help her. Leaving her was no longer an option and regardless of what his better judgement said, he couldn’t let Willem have her, not even for a short while.

He needed to find another way to help her through her change. He would help her and then he could return to his family. His heart ached at that thought but he shut his feelings away. It had to be this way. It had to be.

With a single leap, Winter cleared the perimeter wall of the mansion and sprinted across the wide expanse of snow-covered grass, heading for the house. Nika clung to him, her body warm and tempting against his back. He held onto her, afraid that she would fall and would hurt herself again. He couldn’t risk moving slower. When they reached the relative safety of his quarters, he would allow her a little freedom while he gathered his things and tried to figure out where to take her. Years ago, he had heard a werewolf mention a secret home for werewolves, a place where they were free of vampire rule. Would the werewolves at the compound know of such a place? They
could go and ask. His heart revolted against the idea. He couldn’t, wouldn’t take Nika anywhere near the compound. He didn’t want her to see the things that could happen to her if she was caught, because he would never let them happen. He would protect her.

The moment they entered the building through the servants’ entrance, Nika tensed against him and hunched up. His senses spoke of her fear. It was probably overwhelming for a newly turned werewolf to enter a place full of strong vampires. None of the residents of the mansion were under three hundred years old. All could easily kill her. What if they caught him and Nika and tried to hurt her? His eyes switched as he readied for a fight. The reaction surprised him as much as his one in the woods had. He wanted to protect her even from his kin. He couldn’t. If they were caught, he would order the men to take him and Nika to Lord Hyperion and to leave her untouched. He was certain that he could convince his lord to take pity on her.

Nika shifted against his back. The sound of her heart racing was almost too much to bear. It made his teeth itch and his hunger rise. He fought the temptation to release one of her legs and touch her hands to reassure her. She would feel safer soon enough.

Winter dashed down the corridor, swift and silent, and mounted the steps to the first floor and then the second. A brief pause in the stairwell and scan of the area with his senses revealed that they weren’t alone. He leaned back into the shadows and fixed his senses on the two moving signatures at the end of the hall. Both powerful. Older than him. He wouldn’t stand a chance against

them in a fight. He waited, halting his breathing and hoping Nika would have the good sense to remain quiet. She did. Her soft breath against his neck turned shallow and she went as stiff as a board against him. The two signatures moved away and he tried to picture where they were. When they became indistinct, Winter moved out of the shadows and sped towards his room.

Reaching his door, he pulled Nika down from his back, held her close to his chest with one hand and opened the door with the other. He bundled her inside, closing and locking the door in one swift action behind them. Darkness engulfed them and he slid into his vampire guise so he could see. She leaned into him when he set her down on her feet, his arm still around her, crushing her against his armour.

He looked down into her wide green eyes and pressed his finger against her lips, motioning for her to remain quiet. She nodded again. His senses reached out. There was no one on this floor. Everyone was out. He sniffed and frowned at the strong smell of werewolf. Lowering his head, he smelled her clothing. It wasn’t just her scent. Her clothing carried the scent of those who had attacked her.

Nika gasped when he tore her coat from her followed by her dress. Her arms raced to cover her underwear, one folding across her breasts while her other hand covered her knickers.

Winter almost mentioned that he wasn’t the kind of man that would look without permission but then he remembered how close he had been back in the shack. The temptation to sneak a peek at her underwear when he had been tending to her had been so strong that he had almost given in. He bundled her clothes up into his arms and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her

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around. His gaze slipped to the gentle slope of her back and her bottom. She would never know that he was looking at her. A werewolf couldn’t see in the dark as well as a vampire could.

“I can feel you staring,” she whispered, so quiet that he wondered at first whether he had imagined it.

Her hand found his where it lay on her shoulder.

“I don’t like the dark. Can you turn the light on?”

“I will guide you to the shower and then turn it on. It is best that you clean yourself. There is a risk that others will be able to smell you.” He wasn’t worried about someone getting wind of her scent. The werewolves in the compound sometimes guarded the house. Their scent would provide cover for hers. The one that had him pushing her towards the shower was Willem’s. It spoke of strength and age, and the werewolves at the compound had neither of those.

She stumbled and his hand snapped out to catch her arm, fingers closing around her soft warm flesh and stopping her from falling.

“I can’t see in the dark.” Her voice was still a whisper, as though she feared someone hearing her.

“You can speak here. Not many venture onto this floor during the night and your voice would not rouse suspicion.”

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, as though she could see him in the dark. “My scent would though.”

“Not your scent. Willem’s. I can smell him on you.”

A faint smile teased her lips, as though she was thinking something that amused her, and he felt as though she was
looking straight through him down to his soul.

“Shower. I will find you something to wear.” He turned the bathroom light on, threw her ruined clothes into the corner, and pushed her into the room before she had a chance to say what he could see coming.