Buried Passion Page 16

  A growl echoed, followed by another. There had to be an entire pack outside. Loud thumps sounded on the porch. A large silhouette plodded past the window. A beast, twice her size. Her throat tightened. She stared at Jeff, one hot tear trailed her cheek. “Don’t do this,” she breathed. “Not after everything we’ve been through. I gave myself to you.”

  As though their lovemaking meant nothing, he stood there and had the nerve to smirk. Couldn’t he see, or did anger blind him from the truth? She loved him, risked so much to be with him. But the hard line of his mouth said everything. None of that mattered now, she’d never convince him they were meant to be.

  “As if you wouldn’t have given it away to some other poor fool you’d have bewitched.” Face solemn, he gazed at the covered window. “If you’re lucky, they’ll chase your ass out of the vicinity. But if they harm you…” He threw his hands up, eyes tapered into slits. “You’ve already harmed those I care about. I wish I never met you.”

  Like a bladed whip, his words sliced her heart. With her ankle damaged, she’d have no luck. She grit her teeth. Not another tear. Shoulders straight, chin tilted, she used every ounce of strength to fake bravado. “Be careful what you wish for, Ian Jefferson. You’re speaking to a witch.”

  Fire bubbled inside, heating every pore in her body. Fingers extended, she drew energy from natural sources. So much power infused her cells, fuelled by the ache in her heart and the heat in her limbs. “Toss,” she shouted with a fling of her hand.

  Jeff slammed into the wall. She dove for the diary, then rushed outside. Six wolves surrounded the cabin. Arms raised in the air, she stared at the night sky. “Fire with fire, light with light, veil my body on this night.” Leaves billowed from different corners of the forest, swirled up the stairs and around her feet. An explosion of brightness startled the creatures who hobbled backward.

  Over her shoulder, Jeff slumped on the floor and shielded his wide eyes from the brightness as she faded. With one last look at Jeff, she grew invisible and sprinted into the night, gritting her teeth. The pain in her foot nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

  Chapter 12

  Ian snaked an arm around her waist. Shifting her into his arms, he carried her up the porch steps.

  Rachel’s earlier caution played on his mind. What if her family had heard her moans of pleasure? Humans and witches didn’t have supernatural hearing, but vampires and werewolves sure did. Not that Ian could do anything about it now.

  As he flounced into the living area, he spotted Brianna and Amber in deep conversation near the fireplace. Both women paled at the sight of Rachel in his arms and rushed over. “What happened?” They asked in unison. Their exaggeration lured the others into the room.

  He lowered Rachel onto the sofa, then fixed a pillow beneath her head. “I gave her some blood, and she fainted. She should come to in a minute or so. Could someone get me a washcloth.” Another nosebleed was surely to follow. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A delicious sweetness filled the air, mixed with a hint of salt and her natural rainstorm scent. The aftermath of her climax. Ian licked his lips, anticipating how she’d taste. If only they were alone. She’d awaken with his head between her legs.

  “She faints every time she drinks?” Tristan peered at an unconscious Rachel, brows knitted together. As for the vampire’s brothers, they stared at her with their clinical gaze as though she was something alien.

  “Every time.”

  Chay appeared with a washcloth. “Here.” He smiled and leaned over the back of the sofa. The fluffy cloth hung from his pointer finger. Ian took it and ignored his friend’s jubilant expression.

  Amber clutched Chayton’s shirt sleeve. “I hope she’s okay.”

  Chay’s eyebrows jumped as his smirked deepened. “Baby, trust me, she’s fine.”

  Ian stared daggers at Chayton. A silent message to shut up. Instead, his best friend winked. Damn werewolf senses. The scent of Rachel’s arousal still lingered in the air. Ian didn’t doubt Chayton could smell her. Did the vampires recognise it also but pretend not to notice?

  “What makes you say that?” Amber asked.

  “Ian was with her, I’m sure he took good care of her.”

  The words shut up, almost rolled off his tongue. Before he could utter them, Rachel stirred, a moan escaped her lips.

  Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at everyone around her. “What’s going on?”

  “The werewolf gave you his blood and you fainted,” Brianna said in a soothe voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Rachel gazed around, and stopped when landing on him. She licked her lips, and his manhood twitched in response.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you think you’re ready to leave for Désuet soon or do you want to wait a few days?”

  “No,” she rushed out. “Let me collect the cooler box and we can leave.”

  He flinched. Yes, she might not be his mate, but the fact she was so eager to leave him stung. Without realizing he’d moved, Ian followed her down the hallway and into the bathroom.

  “Ian,” Rachel sighed when she turned. “What are you doing?”

  Jaw jutted, he slashed the air with his hand. “Don’t go.”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “Stay. At least for a few days. Let me take care of you.”

  “I want to know what’s wrong with me. Don’t you see I have to leave?”

  Dammit, she was right. But that was before he made an effort to sympathize with her, before he liked the woman she was, before they made love in the forest. Before his body trembled with intense heat from the thought of her. Air ceased in his lungs at the prospect of her leaving. Insane, he knew. He’d wanted her out of his home, out of his life. Now he grasped at straws, struggled to find an excuse to stop her. “Look…about outside. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Straight teeth bit into the fullness of her lower, plump lip, something he wanted to experience again. “I won’t pretend I didn’t want what happened. But you aren’t mine to want.”

  Again, she was right. Out in the world a woman waited for him…and here he was, desperate for a vampire. He’d have kicked himself if someone told him this a week ago. A part of him, however, didn’t care.

  “I can go with you to Désuet.”

  For a minute he guessed the twitch of her mouth would break into a smile. Instead, she sputtered, and shook her head. “You’re crazy. Give me one good reason you should come?”

  “Moral support.” Yes, grasping at straws indeed. The ridiculous defence didn’t change her stern expression.

  “You should concentrate on finding whoever belongs to you. I can take care of myself.” She entered the bathroom and retrieved the cooler box beneath the sink.

  “What about blood,” he said, following behind. “I can be your donor.”

  Her moist eyes averted to the box in her hands. “You wouldn’t be offering yourself if you knew the truth.”

  He teetered back at the whispered declaration. A cold stillness overcame him. “What are you talking about?”

  She dropped the cooler box at her feet, straightened, and licked her lips. “I lied to you,” she declared. “It was you in my flashbacks.”

  No, impossible. He could prove her wrong, too. “Tell me about these flashbacks.”

  “I had a huge crush on you when I was a teenager, you might even say it was possessive. I used magic to manipulate you, made you believe I was your mate. You fell for the lie.”

  Another delusion, for sure. “That’s impossible. I don’t remember any of this.”

  “You found out what I’d been up to and had some werewolves chase me off Troy’s estate?”

  “Troy’s estate?” The campground, the tournaments? He’d been there constantly in his youth.

  “Yes, Troy Fuller. And let’s not forget Eddy, Delta, and the wolf pack who chased me off the campground.” Rachel gave a violent shrug. “Don’t you see. Don’t you get it now. I knew you.” She stepped
closer, her small, warm hands cupped his face. “I knew you. And even though I haven’t had a flashback of what happened after that, I think I did something to your memory.”

  Blood drained from his face. His gut tied into one painful knot.

  “I’m a monster. Nothing but a monster.” She dropped her hands from his face and retrieved the cooler box.

  All this time, a piece of his past was missing. Could it be true? She knew about the campground, Eddy and Delta. Bile rose, and he faced the wall. His breathing grew noisy. A part of his memory, gone, and he hadn’t even known. His fist clashed with the tiled wall before he did something stupid like snatch her by the neck. Clay crumbled to the floor. “How can my memories disappear? Was it witchcraft?”

  “I have a gut-feeling it may have been,” she stammered, most likely spooked by his aggressive outburst.

  He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Can it be undone?”

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered from behind, her tone soft and broken. “And if so, I wouldn’t know how to undo it.”

  A growl vibrated his throat, and he spun around. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  “I told myself I wanted to be sure of the dreams. But honestly, I didn’t want you to know what a horrible person I was.”

  His jaw tightened, and he held back the accusations he wanted to throw her way. Rachel Johnson had been trouble from the moment she entered his life.

  Her chin dipped as silent tears fell. “I’m so sorry…for everything.” She swung open the door and headed down the hall, back to her family.

  Ian sighed and paced the bathroom. The cold glass of the window seeped into his back as he leaned against it. Every breath he took burned. He wanted to storm out there, demand his memories back, demand what she knew. What the hell would that solve? How would she be able to help him when she couldn’t even help herself?

  He needed to think straight. That was impossible to do here.

  When he entered the living area, he found her at the table with Amber and Brianna. Tristan and his brothers huddled near the kitchen, studied his furniture and appliances as though in a museum. As for Chayton, he perched on the sofa arm, glancing his way, head inclined, brows raised in question. This house had never felt like home. One vampire picked up his musical egg timer off the kitchen windowsill and shook it. Right now the place resembled a morgue. He needed to escape.

  Ian quickly glanced away from Rachel as he stormed through the living area and didn’t bother with a backward glance. “I’m out of here,” he uttered to Chayton. After what he’d learned, he couldn’t look Rachel in the face right now. He also wasn’t in the mood to stick around and witness her disappear, even if this was what he originally wanted.

  “What the hell is going on with you and Rachel?” Chayton whispered from behind.

  Ian tugged on his coat. “Nothing…at least, not anymore.”

  “So…she’s not your mate?”

  Air puffed out of his nose. “No, she’s not my mate. We were wrong. Dead wrong.”

  “Bro, talk to me,” his friend called out, but Ian kept walking.

  Ian snatched the set of keys off the foyer table and threw open the door. He swayed to a halt before crashing into the stranger on his doorstep. The man had one fist held high, intending to knock. The azure blue of his eyes was familiar.

  “Hi, I’m Amber’s brother, Lucas.”

  Ah, that explained the familiarity. Other than the different hair color, their features were identical. Ian stood back to allow the man inside, but Lucas continued to stare.

  Ian grunted. “I don’t have all day.”

  “Have we met before?” Lucas wiped his feet on the mat and entered.

  As if he associated with warlocks. “Doubt it.”

  “Lucas.” Amber rushed over and embraced her brother.

  Lucas returned the hug. “I had to come see for myself.”

  Amber nudged her brother’s side, then frowned at Ian. “Where are you off to?”

  He swirled the keys around his pinky. “Going for a drive.”

  “Are you all right? You’ve been acting strange today.”

  Strange? What an understatement. “Sleep deprived. Nothing to worry about, Goldilocks.” He kissed the top of her head and raced to his truck. The truck Rachel had been against when he’d brought her to climax. A frustrated growl echoed in the night. The vehicle would always be a bittersweet reminder now. He shouldn’t think of how soft she was or how responsive. He should concentrate on the truth of their past, how his bones vibrated knowing he couldn’t remember a part of his life. All Rachel’s fault. He clutched his head and grunted, desperate to punch something. Good, these emotions would help him get over her. An unfamiliar black shiny sedan sat parked next to his truck. Had to be Amber’s brother’s vehicle. Ancient vampires and rich, snobby warlocks were not his crowd. Starting the engine, he skidded off his property.

  Chapter 13

  Had she ever seen a cave so spectacular? Rachel doubted it. Deep, dark, with a haunting beauty. Long and short stalactites protruded from the high ceiling. Crystalline limestone with unique radiance formed stone pillars and drip curtains. The blends of brown, cream, and white rock sheltered the swarm of vampires dressed in black. Ancient candle chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and modern flood lights fixed in several corners of the walls and floors lit the magnanimous space. What a combination; the natural splendor of the cave in contrast to these unnatural beings.

  Faced with this magnificence, yet Ian’s troubled expression occupied her thoughts. He hated her. The fact he couldn’t even glance her way after her confession proved his utter disgust. Get over him. The truth needed to come out. He might be confused, angry, and hurt, but he would now be able to move on.

  Rachel took in the awkward smiles of other vampires passing them. Did they sense something different about her? She bit the inside of her cheek. Amongst her kind and still out of place. Would she ever experience a sense of home? She followed Brianna and Tristan as they strode past a large staircase into a main square.

  The so-called flashing hadn’t been as bad as before. She’d known what to expect this time. One minute she had stood in Ian’s living room with her sister and a bunch of vampires, staring at the front door, wishing Ian would return. Stupid of her, really. As if seeing his face one last time would have helped. In the next instant, Tristan had placed his hand on her shoulder and a dark shadow swallowed her sight. When the shadow faded, the scenery before her had unfolded.

  “…and this is Rachel Johnson.”

  She blinked. Oh crap, they were introducing her to someone. The man before her stood with great aplomb and grace, holding out his hand. She placed hers in his. There was something strange about him. Strong cheekbones and a dimpled chin crafted the handsomeness of his youthful features, but his long, white hair seemed better suited for an aged old senior. A large gold brooch fastened the Brunswick green cloak he wore. A man of authority.

  She straightened her spine. Could she be meeting royalty? His warm brown eyes startled her. Her heart clenched. Perhaps from the mix of compassion and grief that pierced her when staring into them.

  “Rachel.” His voice resembled a melodic song. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  “Sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I am Lord Sylvestre, leader of the vampires.”

  Leader? So, the vampires were part of a civilized community with someone to govern them.

  “Not only a leader, but the first ever of his kind,” Brianna added, chin tilted.

  The first vampire in the history of vampires. Rachel gawked. Say something. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I see what you mean, Tristan. Her scent isn’t strong.” He cupped her hand. “Rest assured, we will get down to the bottom of this. You have no idea how happy I am for you and Brianna. You are both lucky to be reunited.”

  Again, grief flashed in those warm eyes. Had he lost someone he cared about?

  “I’ll let you get settled and visi
t soon with the medic. He wants to examine you since you’re the first in centuries to transform into an Impure.”

  Rachel listened as though she were a patient in a doctor's office, but blinked at the last part. “What’s an Impure?”

  Lord Sylvestre flashed a smile. “Vampires who are created not born, like myself. You see, when I first turned over a thousand years ago, I convinced my entire village to drink one another’s blood. The transformation took months, some even fell into a death-like coma before awakening as a vampire.”

  Butterflies swarmed her stomach. She gulped. “That sounds like what happened to me.”

  “Yes, I’ve been told you were buried months ago. What intrigues me is how you transformed. I don’t think another witch would have performed a blessing. It’s against the Prime’s law to turn others into Impures. I believe you may be the first Impure to alter without the blessing.”

  “Primes are the first original witches who appoint laws for all covens around the world,” Brianna elaborated.

  Primes, blessings, Impures, her head throbbed from the information overload. From Lord Sylvestre’s soft grin, he knew it too. Rachel cleared her throat. “I hope I don’t seem rude if I ask a personal question.”

  “Not at all.” He nodded for her to continue.

  “I’m curious, what made you turn?”

  His smile dwindled. “In my years of living, I’ve never been more vulnerable than the time I found every member of my family slaughtered in our home.”

  “Your entire family?” Rachel knew first-hand what it was like to be lost without her family, but to see them murdered? A chill danced down her spine. How awful.

  “Vikings attacked our village.” A fire burned in his brown eyes as though he relived the memory. “I wanted revenge, to do so meant I needed power. So, I made a deal with the Primes, and in return, I along with my village became the most ferocious creatures to ever walk this earth. No one could destroy me.” A sad smile touched his lips. “And yet, vengeance did not bring back my family.” His gaze grew distant, his voice softened. As though the confession plunged him into another realm. “Sometimes I wonder if forgiveness would have been better than my passion for revenge. Perhaps I could have lived a different life…I might have had a doting wife, a few children, and died an old man thousands of years ago. Most of all, I might have found peace.”