Into the Darkness Read online

  She’d thought a decade might have dimmed their memories.

  She picked up her fork, deliberately choosing the useless salad fork and reached across the diner beside her to spear a slab of lamb.

  Her cheeks burned at her rudeness, but she wanted to make a point. She didn’t belong here. She wasn’t staying. They were welcome to their civilized trappings—she lived the gritty reality of their existence.

  “Did you see the way she went after Gerard?” Erika said, this time her voice hushed, almost awed.

  “Perhaps she already has a reason for her precocious appetite,” Inanna murmured.

  The hand raising her fork stopped halfway to her lips. Chessa laid it back on her plate and placed her hands in her lap below the table, fisting them tightly out of sight.

  A supreme act of will forced her to raise her head.

  Inanna’s gaze was resting on her, glittering, watchful—like a cat waiting to pounce upon a crippled bird.

  Chessa met her gaze, emptying her expression of any emotion. Now, she knew Inanna’s intentions for tonight’s entertainment.

  Inanna was destined to be disappointed.

  “Do you think she’s already pregnant?” Chessa asked, her voice carefully neutral.

  “I’m not sure. But I will visit her tomorrow. As voracious as her appetites have become, it is entirely possible she has already conceived.”

  “You’ll have to send me an invitation to the baby shower. Be sure she registers at Wal-Mart. Remember, I live on a cop’s salary.”

  More laughter rang around the table, but Chessa didn’t bother to give the others a quelling glance. Her gaze remained on Inanna’s, answering her challenge.

  Inanna took another slow sip of wine. “Her policeman is a surprise. Such a handsome brute of a man. Most young women would set their sights on someone…prettier and younger.”

  “He was just in the wrong place at the right time when her pheromones kicked in,” Chessa murmured.

  “It’s a pity they weren’t introduced first. It’s always easier if a relationship already exists. And his age is a problem. He is mature enough and stubborn enough to resist her.”

  Chessa waited, knowing Inanna was getting to the point of this conversation. She demurred to fill the silence, “He is only human. Eventually, he will fall in line.”

  “If he already loves another, he might be strong enough to fight her allure. I think we should offer him the choice. Don’t you?”

  Chessa held her breath, afraid to show a single weakness.

  But Inanna wasn’t finished yet. She sat forward, triumph in the glitter of her eyes. “If he has already served his purpose, perhaps you should take him home when you leave.”

  Chessa sat, fighting the urge to lurch to her feet. The bitch had read her interest in Rene and used it like a whip to strip her flesh from the bone.

  Instead of giving her the reaction she wanted, Chessa nodded. “We’ll wait until tomorrow. After you’ve determined whether she’s conceived. If not, I’m not hanging around any longer than that. I have a job to get back to.”

  Inanna stared a moment longer, then shrugged and lifted her glass for another sip. The other diners took their cue and conversation resumed.

  Beneath the table a foot nudged hers.

  Chessa met Nicolas’s gaze as he raised his glass in salute.

  She’d survived Inanna’s volleys without going ballistic herself. Maybe she had changed in more ways than one over the years.

  Inanna looked toward the entrance of the dining room and a smile wreathed her features. “Ahhh, I’m glad you were able to join us.”

  Simon Jameson, Natalie’s next-door neighbor, appeared in the doorway, his hair still spiked. His damnable bird perched on his sleeve. He’d dressed in casual khaki pants and white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

  “Please come join us, Mr. Jameson, and bring the bird, too. You can feed her from your plate. We don’t mind.”

  Simon bowed to the group and took the last remaining seat. When he was seated, he gave Chessa a challenging glare.

  “What’s he doing here?” she asked Inanna, her tone deliberately belligerent.

  “He called me.” At Chessa’s surprised look, she added, “He very astutely guessed her destination.”

  “Still doesn’t explain what the fuck he’s doing here. Thought his kind wasn’t welcome here anymore.”

  “He’s our guest, Chessa. Behave yourself,” Inanna chided softly. “As he has knowledge of Natalie, he’s here for us to pick his brain.”

  “I do apologize for being late,” Simon said, giving Inanna an apologetic smile. “That storm’s kicking up. There was a downed tree between here and New Orleans.”

  “You couldn’t have left that damn lice trap at home?” Chessa bit out, impatient with the small talk and Simon’s ingratiating good manners.

  Simon lifted one brow, and his lips twisted in a tight smile. The bird ruffled its feathers and rubbed its head beneath his chin, all the while staring at her with its fierce golden eyes.

  “You shouldn’t insult Kestrel,” he said softly, the warning cloaked in barely veiled menace. “She’s very sensitive, you know. She doesn’t like you very much.”

  “She doesn’t know me.” Chessa folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her chair.

  “I think she does,” murmured Nicolas, a hint of a smile curving his lips.

  “So, what’s with the glamour? You are among friends,” Chessa said.

  Simon sighed and waved an indolent hand in front of his face. One moment he was the youthful video-store manager, the next a shimmer muted the sharp edges of his face, blurring blue and white, like moonstone, before reforming. Gone was the skinny young man with spiked hair and lazy, insolent features. In his place was the true Simon—the broad-shouldered warrior monk with light brown hair brushing his shoulders, and a moustache and beard framing his lush mouth.

  Kestrel appeared to approve the change. She hopped up on his shoulder and nuzzled behind his ear.

  Inanna clapped her hands in delight. “Lovely!”

  “I’m gonna barf,” Chessa said.

  Inanna leaned forward in her chair, resting her arms on the table. “So tell us, Simon. Why your interest in our Natalie?”

  “She found me one day while she was canvassing the French Quarter for a summer job. I found her shy, but highly intelligent. She walked into my shop and took an instant liking to Kestrel as Kestrel did to her, which piqued my interest. Kestrel is very discerning,” he said, giving Chessa a bland glare. “We discovered an affinity, and I hired her to work in my shop.”

  “Did you know right away that she was Born?”

  “Only after I knew her well enough to learn intimate details of her life and discovered she had the characteristics. I wondered how she had remained on the loose so long.”

  “It’s a sad state of affairs,” Inanna said. “When we fostered her out, we lost track. As you may know, we try to keep the locations of our progeny secret. Fewer opportunities for anyone to discover their whereabouts.”

  “It’s a difficult path you travel these days.”

  “For us all, non?”

  Simon bowed his head. Kestrel nipped his ear and he laughed, reaching for a slice of roast beef. For long minutes, he carefully cut the meat into strips, then lay aside his utensils. “How are things going between Natalie and her policeman?”

  Chessa stiffened. “How do you know he’s here?”

  Simon’s smile was cunning. “I could read the interest between the two back at the apartment. There was something charged, even…inevitable in the air. When I found feminine products in her bathroom the night of the break-in, I knew I needed to keep a closer eye.”

  “Were you keeping a closer eye yesterday when she was attacked by pigeons in Jackson Square?”

  “Pigeons?”

  Inanna cleared her throat, a pained look on her face. “Have you noticed any unusual occurrences around her recently?”

  “Unus
ual? You mean, other than her coming into her season?”

  “Yes, anything else…of a sinister nature?”

  “No, but then again her season had only started.”

  Chessa knew she wasn’t always quick to pick up on undercurrents—subterfuge just wasn’t her way of getting things done. However, she noted the desperate way Inanna deflected the conversation away from the attack. Perhaps, she was reluctant to bring up directly the subject of the attack in front of the whole group—or maybe just in front of Simon.

  “Will I be able to see Natalie while I’m here?” Simon asked.

  Inanna nodded. “I think that would be a good idea. She likely needs comfort from someone she trusts.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Her policeman isn’t providing that?”

  “She ‘killed’ her first meal,” Chessa broke in. “She’s having difficulty controlling her bloodlust. Rene’s a little wary of her now.”

  “Wouldn’t anyone be?” Inanna said with a little laugh. The rest of the table chimed in, a nervous edge to their laughter.

  Simon didn’t comment as he fed Kestrel bits of meat that she plucked daintily from his fingertips.

  Natalie listened to the sound of running water in the bathroom. She stood just outside the door, her ears tuned to the sounds inside, her nose drawing in Rene’s scent. More than anything, she wished she could go to him and try to explain what he’d seen. But really, what could she say to make him understand she hadn’t been herself? Did she really know who she was anymore?

  A cleaning crew had come into the bedroom to do their best to clean the blood soaked into the carpet and to remove her bloodied throw. They’d freshened the bedding, too.

  She’d had a shower while Chessa occupied Rene. She’d lingered a long time, scrubbing her body over and over, trying to rid herself of the scent of the blood. While it had horrified her at one level, it also seemed to hone her craving even more. So she’d scoured her skin to remove any hint that might tempt her to violence again.

  When she came out of the bathroom, Rene shouldered past her without a word, locking the door behind him. Telling her just how soundly he rejected her and what she’d become.

  She didn’t blame him one bit.

  What future could they share? She didn’t really know him. He didn’t know any more about her than he’d observed. What she’d demonstrated had to be frightening.

  She didn’t have any control over the changes happening within her, no control over the impressions she gave Rene, and no control over her growing attachment. She was beginning to need him, not just as assuagement for blood and sex. She needed his strong arms, the low rumble of his voice. She longed to see acceptance in his gaze.

  Not likely to happen after he’d seen what a monster she’d become.

  Before she’d bitten Gerard, she thought she could take a little sustenance from him and stop when she’d satisfied herself. But once she’d pierced his skin, drank his gasp and his blood, felt him harden between her thighs—she’d been lost.

  She’d felt outside of herself, like she was watching another woman straddle him and grind her sex against him. All within a whisper’s distance of Rene. What must he think? He hadn’t been asleep the whole time she was with Gerard as she’d thought at first. Not by the condemning look he’d given her as she’d shuffled past him to the bathroom.

  Exhausted beyond anything she’d ever experienced, she lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over herself. But she couldn’t escape into sleep.

  Not with the memory of the hunger or the life she’d taken so fresh in her mind.

  The need to linger in that moment of purest ecstasy had drawn her, seduced her past her natural abhorrence of the act—allowing her to draw out the exquisitely pain-filled moment.

  While she’d held Gerard in her fierce grip, she’d felt his orgasm as though it had been her own, seen the blackness that devoured his thoughts grow like a large nimbus cloud to fill his mind, felt him falling toward it until he’d ceased to exist on any plane.

  Never mind that Gerard was recovering, or so the team had told her as they cleared away her mess. But she hadn’t known when she should stop or understood what needed to be done to save him in the end.

  If she could do this to a total stranger, how might she behave if she were making love to Rene? Would she stop herself the next time?

  She sat up at the side of the bed and eyed one of the manacles Rene had been forced to wear. With a shaking hand, she slipped it around her wrist and closed it.

  While the others lingered over drinks, Chessa excused herself to follow Nicolas as he headed back toward the security barracks.

  Outside, the wind had whipped up, tearing at her hair as she moved swiftly down the graveled path through the garden, past the gazebo, and beyond to the old horse stables that had been converted for the team’s use.

  As she passed through an arbor gate, a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.

  “Are you following me?” Nicolas asked, his low, rumbling voice nearly carried away on the wind.

  Chessa’s breath caught. The storm building around them hadn’t a tenth of the ferocity of the one growing inside her. Dinner had scraped her emotions raw. “I—” Her throat closed around her words, forcing them back. Why had she followed him? She didn’t want to look too deeply inside herself for that answer.

  “Why are you here, Chessa?”

  He wanted to hear the words, but her tongue refused to form them. Tears filled her eyes, and she blamed the wind that cut like a sharp knife.

  Nicolas remained still, buffeted by wind that molded his shirt to his lean torso. He stood stoic and solid in a long night that threatened to unleash her inner demons and memories.

  With an inarticulate cry, she launched herself into his arms, winding hers around his neck, climbing up his body, needing to be closer to take his strength, drink in his scent and essence until he filled her.

  His arms closed around her, and his hands grabbed her buttocks in a bruising grip as he lifted her higher against his body.

  The violence of their kiss ground her lips into her teeth, raising blood they both drank. Muscles like hardened oak flexed beneath her hands and within the tight grip of her thighs.

  Nicolas drew back his head and dragged air into his lungs. “I want you,” he said, his voice raw with need.

  Chessa drew a ragged breath. “Take me.”

  “Here.”

  “God, yes.”

  He walked with her deeper into the garden to a raised grass-covered bed and knelt, lowering her to the ground with a hand cupping the back of her head.

  Chessa still held him in the circle of her arms and thighs, unwilling to let him go. She reached up and kissed his chin, and then scraped her lengthening teeth along his neck.

  “I want you naked.”

  She nodded and nipped his throat, drawing blood that she immediately licked away.

  Soft laughter shook his chest. “You have to let me go.”

  “Nnnnnhh,” she murmured against his skin, rolling her hips against him.

  Nicolas grasped her hands and pinned them to the ground beside her head. He settled over her, letting his weight hold her still beneath him. When he had her attention, he shifted his thighs on either side of her hips and sat up.

  His fingers made quick work of the row of buttons on her shirt. He tugged it from the waistband of her trousers, and then raised her up to strip it away. She didn’t give him any more help with her pants.

  Laughter, tense and harsh, gusted from him as he fought the button and zipper and then shoved her legs from his waist to draw her jeans down. His fingers plucked her underwear, tearing them away.

  Then he stood and quickly stripped away his own clothes, until the only thing clothing him was the dim light from a faraway lamp.

  Chessa lay still, her womb clenching around an empty ache, unable to look away. The moment felt charged, pregnant with promise. His dark, hooded eyes, so intent and piercing, thrilled her, opening a dam of mo
isture that flooded her vagina in liquid anticipation.

  With the wind caressing their bare flesh and flashes of lightning to add to the fierceness of the moment, he knelt between her legs, his hands gliding up her sides and over her breasts to plump and caress them.

  His mouth closed around one spiking nipple, and Chessa cried out, arching her back to drive it deeper between his lips.

  He suckled and tugged, until her legs moved restlessly along his sides and her head thrashed side to side. When he gently chewed the peak, she keened and urged him to the other nipple.

  Nicolas licked his way across her chest, curling his tongue around the ripened bud, flickering it with his tongue then suctioning hard.

  Chessa’s pussy tightened, cream seeping from inside to ready her for his invasion. She dug her heels into the grass and lifted her hips to rub against his hard shaft, inviting him to take the plunge.

  But he released her nipple only to glide his mouth down her belly, pausing to nip the curve of each rib, sucking her skin to raise love bites along his path to her mound.

  Her belly quivered with each shallow breath she struggled to take. “Nooooo!” she gasped.

  She’d known he wouldn’t go straight to the finish. And in her soul, she gloried in his determination to wring every last gasp, every drop of cream from her body.

  When at last the clouds released their rain, she opened her arms, letting them fall to the ground above her head in acceptance of his gift.

  CHAPTER 11

  Chessa stared into the stormy sky as rain began to fall. Cooler than the humid heat around them, drops thudded against her skin to shatter in tiny wet explosions.

  Rather like the sensation of Nicolas’s kisses that drew steadily nearer her pulsing cunt.

  She spread her legs wide, unable to hide the trembling of her thighs.

  As he bent over her belly, his hands caressed her legs. To soothe her? His touch did nothing to lessen the quivering that had her jumping, gasping as he tongued her belly button, rimming it with the hardened tip of his tongue. When he pressed the button at the center, it was as though the spot were an ignition switch.