The Forever Kiss, page 10
“What’s that for?"
He pulled the handcuffs out of his pocket. “Well, I’ve got to tie the ‘cuffs to something.”
Val recoiled. “Forget it. I don’t do bondage.”
“Look, I’ve been smelling Hirsch’s blood for about four hours now, and it’s making me hungry. I need a shower, and I’m not going to risk you sneaking out the door while I take one.”
She backed up, knowing she didn’t dare let him cuff her; escape would be impossible. “What if I promise to be a good girl?"
“Sorry, you don’t strike me as that trustworthy."
"Neither do you.” Val whirled toward the door.
And went flying backward toward the bed as he caught her. She hit the mattress and bounced, but before she could even think about rolling off, McKinnon was on top of her.
Suddenly Val was covered in hard, hot male, his long fingers wrapped around one of her wrists. She tried to flail at him with her free hand, but the bracelet’s cool metal had already snapped around her captured wrist. As the lock clicked, he caught her swinging fist and cuffed that wrist too. She cursed him breathlessly, bucking, but he ignored her struggles and calmly knotted the sheet around the short chain between the cuffs. Furious, Val arched against him…and was suddenly aware of a hard ridge mashing against her belly. It felt huge. She froze, eyes widening.
“Yeah, I’ve got a hard-on,” he told her. As he spoke, she glimpsed the tips of his fangs. “That’s why I’m taking the shower.”
“May I suggest throwing in a few ice cubes?" she gritted.
“I might just do that.” He rolled off her and turned toward the bathroom, bending to pick up the sword he’d propped against the chair as he walked by.
Val watched his broad back disappear through the door, then let her head drop to the pillow. As she blew out a breath, her stiff nipples rubbed against the lace of her bra. “Save a few cubes for me while you’re at it,” she muttered.
If you let him Change you, you could have him forever, the young voice whispered.
Val froze as icy fear instantly killed her arousal. “McKinnon!” she yelled, but water was already hissing through the pipes. She lifted her head and bellowed at the closed door, “McKinnon, dammit, use those vampire ears! I need you!” No answer. “Ah, hell.” Disgusted, she turned her head away….
And looked right at a glowing little girl standing beside the night stand.
Val yelped and tried to roll off the bed, but the handcuffs jerked her up short. Kneeling with her arms twisted painfully, she stared at the child. “Who the hell are you?"
I’m Abigail McKinnon, the voice said, though the little girl’s lips didn’t move. Cade is my brother.
McKinnon had said he was born in 1846. Any little sister of his would have to be….
“Oh, man,” Val moaned. “First vampires, now ghosts. I’m trapped in a Halloween after-school special. All we need is Frankenstein’s monster and the Wolfman.” She gave her hands a hard jerk, but the cuffs held fast.
The ghost blinked huge, dark eyes that looked a lot like Cade’s. There is no such thing as Frankenstein’s monster.
“Does that mean there’s a Wolfman?” Val asked with a flippancy born of raw nerves. “No, don’t tell me—he’s your other brother.”
The little ghost’s face hardened with bitterness. My other brother was shot down at Gettysburg. Pa tried to save him, but took a chunk of shrapnel in the chest and died for his pains. Cade is the only one left. Anger twisted that soft glowing mouth. And you’re going to get him killed.
Hoooo boy. “Look, I didn’t ask Cade to get involved in my problems. I can take care of myself.”
Abigail laughed silently. The mental sound of it was too grating and bitter to come from a child. You’ve never seen what Ridgemont does to women like you. If you have any sense, you’ll beg Cade to make you a vampire. Now. While there’s still time. It’s the only way either of you has a chance in hell.
No matter what she looked like, Val realized, the ghost was not a little girl. Not mentally, anyway. “But I don’t want to become a vampire.” Twisting her hands around, she fumbled surreptitiously for the knot tying the handcuffs to the sheet. She was damn well going to get loose and get out. She’d had enough of this. Count Cowboy and Ghost Brat could find somebody else to play with. “I don’t want to become some evil thing that drinks blood.”
My brother is not evil, girl. The ghost’s lips peeled back from her small teeth. Don’t confuse what the others are with him. Yes, Ridgemont and Hirsch are twisted and evil, but then, they always were. Cade is a good man whether he drinks blood or not. And he deserves to live.
“So do I, damn it!” Val lifted her head to glower. “I just want a normal life. Ever since my folks were murdered, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Hoping to distract the ghost while she picked at the knot around the cuffs, she began to babble. “Two kids and a husband that loves me. And a dog. One of those big, fuzzy dogs.” Damn, McKinnon had tied her tighter than a calf at a rodeo. “An Irish Setter, maybe. Setters are nice dogs. I had a friend who owned a Setter….”
Idiot. Abigail floated upward, her full shirt beginning to lift and whip around her as if in a rising invisible wind. You don’t get a normal life. You’re going to become a vampire.
“No,” Val whispered, a chill rolling over her at the utter certainty in the ghost’s voice.
Yes. Either my brother will do it, and the two of you will kill Ridgemont together, or you’ll refuse him and the monster will murder him and enslave you. Those black eyes started to glow with a cold, unearthly light as Abigail’s hair streamed back from her head. Her heart-shaped face grew gaunt, the translucent skin darkening, sagging. Rotting.
A piece of the ghost’s cheek plopped to the carpet to reveal gleaming bone. Her eyes bulged as her lids melted away, decaying lips blackening and shrinking from small white teeth. But I’ll tell you this, the lipless mouth said, if you get my brother killed, I swear I will haunt you all your miserable, endless life.
Jaw gaping in a silent scream, tattered bits of rotting flesh flapping around her skull, the ghost shot right at her.
Val shrieked with all the air in her lungs.
Cade was rinsing the last of the shampoo from his hair when he heard Valerie scream in utter terror. Shit, he thought. Ridgemont!
He dove from the shower, grabbed his sword off the narrow counter as he went by, and barreled through the door. Naked and dripping, he fell into guard, lifted the blade and scanned the room for his enemies.
But all he saw was Val, curled against the headboard in a quivering, hysterical knot. “Valerie!” He strode toward her, grabbed the twisted sheet that was still tied around the handcuffs, and ripped it in two with a yank so he could lift her off the bed. She hooked her handcuffed wrists over his head and clung to his neck, sobbing, her shaking body plastered against his. He slid a comforting arm around her waist, the other hand still holding the sword. “What happened? Did Ridgemont….?"
“No!” she gasped. “It was your sister!”
He blinked. Oh, hellfire. What had Abigail done now?"She can’t hurt you, Val. She’s a ghost.”
“She rotted, dammit! She turned into a skull and she said if I got you killed, she’d haunt me! And then she….” Val broke off and sobbed. “God damn it, I feel like an idiot!”
Cade sighed and pulled her close, throwing the sword on the bed so he could hold her. “She didn’t mean it. She’s just protective.”
Val drew back to shoot him a glare through glittering tears. “The hell she didn’t mean it! You didn’t see the look on her face. While it rotted. Jesus!” She burrowed against his neck again.
“Abigail!” Exasperated, he stared around the room for her. “You come apologize this minute.”
“God, don’t call her back….”
But the ghost had already appeared next to the television, her expression mulish. He was relieved to see she looked the same as always. I am not going to apologize, Abigail announced, glowering evilly at Val, who shrank back against his chest. Somebody has to make her see the risk you’re running.
That isn’t your place. He clung to his fraying temper and tightened his grip on his shivering captive. Tell her you’re not going to haunt her.
She bared her small, glowing teeth. No. Because if she gets you killed, I’m going to.
Abigail….
With a flounce of lace and petticoats, she turned and flew right though the wall. Val jerked in his arms with a gasp.
He sighed. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t answer, instead clinging to him as her shudders subsided. Her body felt deliciously soft and yielding against his. He stroked her narrow spine and crooned nonsense in her ear, trying to ignore his hardening cock. To hold her again, touch her, even under such circumstances…it was so damn sweet. So tempting. “You know, she’s not really all that bad,” he said at last, in part to distract himself from his own rising hunger.
“Oh, right.” Val sniffed and wiped her eyes with one handcuffed wrist. “And the Headless Horseman was really a sweet guy. The whole decapitation thing was all a cruel misunderstanding…. Damn, McKinnon, you’re wet.” She pulled back from him and looked down. Her eyes widened. “And naked.”
And she might as well be, he realized, heat washing through him as he got a good look himself.
A very good look. When Val had burrowed against his dripping body, she’d soaked that pretty mint blouse right through. Now the wet, transparent fabric clung lovingly to her exquisite breasts. A cream lace bra cupped the full mounds, but one of the cups had drooped to reveal a shy pink nipple. He stared at it. And longed to flick the little point with his tongue until it was bold and red.
“Ummm.” Blushing as furiously as only a redhead can, Val unhooked her arms from around his neck and eased away. “Don’t you think you’d better dry….” Her eyes dropped to his lengthening erection. “Off!” The last word emerged as a squeak.
It suddenly occurred to him this might be a good time to try that seduction, if only to keep her too busy to run. He gave her his best wolfish smile—complete with fangs. “The better to eat you with, my dear.”
If the Big Bad Wolf looked anything like McKinnon, it’s no wonder Red Riding Hood ended up lunch, Val thought. Though he sure as hell doesn’t look like anybody’s grandma.
Not with that erection, anyway. She stared down at it, dry mouthed, feeling like a bird hypnotized by a snake. A very big snake.
It jutted out at her boldly, so broad she didn’t think she could get her fingers all the way around the base, flushed dark with his arousal. The shaft was long and straight and beautiful, with thick blue veins snaking along its length, and a big, heart-shaped head. His balls nestled beneath it, cocooned in silken hair as they hung between his powerful thighs. Dazed, she let her eyes track up his body from that stunning shaft, realizing he was just as beautiful as he’d looked in all those erotic dreams. Six-feet-three inches of sculpted masculinity.
But this wasn’t her dream hero. This was McKinnon, flesh and blood … and vampire.
Breath caught, Val looked into his eyes. There was hunger there, yes, burning and dark and thoroughly male. A hunger not for blood, but for sex. For her.
The nostrils of his straight nose flared as if drawing in her scent, and his tongue slipped out to wet his lower lip. Her gaze dropped helplessly to his mouth, remembering those burning dream kisses. Kisses she could now taste in reality if she just leaned forward….
His eyes narrowed and he stepped close again, so close her peaked nipples touched his damp skin. A bead of water slid from his wet hair and down his temple to trace a shining path along a high, arrogant cheekbone.
Heart pounding, Val watched his head dip until his mouth touched hers, just a silken brush at first, gently seductive. She knew she should step back, but desire rooted her feet to the floor. She heard a low of hunger and knew it was her own.
As if that helpless sound was the signal he’d been waiting for, McKinnon’s arms slid around her, pulling her against his hard, powerful body. Helpless to do anything else, Val let her lips open. His tongue slipped in, gliding slickly. Unable to resist, she stroked her own against it. He deepened the kiss, his mouth growing more and more hungry against hers.
His skin felt cool from his shower, wet under her hands as she wrapped her arms around him to dig her nails into his shoulders. His body was all ridges and hollows, so hard and strong she had to draw back to gasp.
He suckled thirstily at the corner of her mouth, then tasted his way down her chin until her spinning head fell back so he could press a trail of burning kisses along the thin flesh of her neck. Val clung dizzily to him, whimpering at the intensity of it. His teeth scraped her skin, a tiny pain….
And she saw her mother, twisting in agony as Hirsch sank his fangs into her throat. Remembered the dream Cowboy feeding from the older woman as he fucked and used her.
That memory touched off one even more frightening: Cade’s horrifying vampire Hunger seventeen years before. The Hunger that had scored nightmares into her brain like raking claws. A chill rolled over her, cutting through the erotic spell he’d woven so skillfully. Val jerked back, slapping her cuffed hands against his chest. “What are you doing?"
“Making love to you,” he murmured, his eyes all velvet darkness as his muscled arms tightened.
Oh, God, she thought wildly. What do I do if he won’t stop?
Chapter Eight
“No!” She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go. “You said you wouldn’t make me!”
Cade stopped dead, looking down at her face a moment before squeezing his eyes shut, visibly fighting for control. She watched, tense. If he lost that battle….
McKinnon straightened his shoulders and stepped back, releasing her as his face assumed cool, expressionless lines. “And I meant it.”
He pivoted like a soldier and walked into the bathroom. Val slumped, breathing hard from fear—and though she hated to admit it, lingering arousal.
He came out a moment later with a couple of towels. Handing her one, he draped the other over his shoulder and picked up his slacks, reaching into a pocket for the handcuff key. She held out her wrists.
“You can have the bathroom. Go change out of those wet things while I dress out here.” He briskly unlocked the cuffs, his distant tone contrasting starkly with the lingering heat in his eyes.
Val nodded and walked on shaking legs to the suitcase he’d left on the bureau. As she bent, she saw his reflection in the mirror. He was staring at her bottom, his gaze simmering and feral. A shiver skated her spine.
McKinnon looked up and met her eyes in the mirror.
“I guess the vampires-cast-no-reflection bit is another myth,” she said, trying for a less incendiary topic.
“So are a lot of the things you believe about us.” A muscle ticked in his square jaw. “I’m not a monster, Valerie. If I had been, I wouldn’t have stopped just now.”
He had a point. He had stopped—and if she was honest with herself, he could have seduced her out of her fear. He definitely could have forced her.
So maybe…maybe she really was safe. Or not.
Val bent her head to dig through the suitcase with trembling hands. The moment she found a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, she escaped to the safety of the bathroom.
Clutching her clothes, she collapsed against the door, breathing hard. She saw the shower curtain hanging half across the tub and shuddered, the temptation to hide out dying when it occurred to her Abigail might put in another appearance.
She was dressed and back in the bedroom in less than a minute. McKinnon had put on a pair of nylon jogging shorts that didn’t do nearly enough to cover all that magnificent supernatural skin. Both muscled arms were lifted as he briskly toweled his hair dry. Val sat on the bed and tried not to watch the bunch and play of tempting brawn as he moved, but her rebellious eyes kept drifting in his direction.
When he finished and reached for the handcuffs he’d left lying on the bed, she stirred. “Please, McKinnon. Don’t. I don’t….” She stopped and swallowed. “Between one thing and…another, I’d really rather not be cuffed. I promise I won’t try to escape.”
He gave her a long, considering look and nodded slowly. “All right.”
“Thank you.” She let her shoulders slump in relief, then climbed quickly between the covers and flipped them up to her chin. Acutely aware that he stood by the bed watching her, Val curled up on her side facing the window. The lined curtains were thick, but she could still see the morning light filtering through. She stared at the golden glow, her eyes burning with exhaustion. It’s daylight, she told herself. I’m safe. McKinnon promised. He didn’t handcuff me when he could have. He didn’t force me when he could have. And he didn’t seduce me. I’m safe.
At least from him. If only she was so sure about all the other supernatural critters who had it in for her….
The bed gave as he climbed in behind her. A strong arm looped around her waist and pulled her back against his big body. His warmth enveloped her, and tense muscles loosened along her spine. He felt so damn familiar. Despite everything—despite his lies, despite her own traumatic memories, a part of her persisted in seeing him as Cowboy, her Texas Ranger hero.
Thinking how illogical it was to feel such a sense of safety in
a vampire’s arms, Val let hergritty eyes slip closed.
***
Officer Ken Bratton made his morning circuit through the Corrington Sleeper parking lot. Mostly it was a waste of time, but every once in a while he’d find a car listed on the day’s hot sheet of stolen vehicles. Bad guys liked cheap hotels.
When he spotted the black Lexus in the line of ancient Toyotas and decrepit Fords, the car caught his eye because it was so thoroughly out of place. People who could afford vehicles like that didn’t stay at the Sleeper.
Bratton scooped the day’s Hot Sheet off the seat beside him. As he half-expected, he found the car’s license tag number listed among the others cops were to watch out for. And the description matched—a black 2003 Lexus.
