That meant he’d never have the chance to know peace or a day of freedom. He’d never know Helena’s sweet body inside and out. His mind toggled through the catalog of fantasies awaiting their day in the spotlight. His standard: taking her for the first time over a bed of velvety red rose petals, the midnight crackle of a fireplace, the sweet scent of her arousal filling his lungs as he plunged himself repeatedly inside her. Then there was the fantasy of taking her in the shower, pinning her against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as she panted his name in his ear.
Niccolo grew hard for the fifth time that day and shifted himself.
Gods, he could not wait to bed her. Gods, he needed to buy looser pants. Otherwise, his cock might not make it to their wedding night. Or, perhaps, he needed to stop thinking about her.
Idiota. You realize that’s impossible. Any second now you’re going to get the itch. You won’t be able to resist wanting to feel her with your mind.
His attempt to fight his craving for her, indeed, lasted all of one glorious second before he gave in. He focused to catch a whiff of her mind in the atmosphere. Distance dulled the connection, but it was always there.
Aaah, Helena... Right now, she’s annoyed, but no longer angry. In any case, the guilt was almost unbearable; he’d caused her pain. Thank the gods he didn’t love her. He couldn’t imagine how miserable he would be if they shared more than just a powerful bond and insatiable lust.
For a moment he considered using his gift to sift to her, but blind sifting was extremely risky. And sifting toward a moving target was unthinkable. He could end up landing inside a steel girder, slab of cement, or hit by a semi. No. He’d have to wait until she stopped moving and then do as Viktor suggested.
Niccolo suddenly flinched and released a growl from deep within his chest. He sensed a burgeoning lust radiating via their connection. She’d better be thinking of me.
Chapter 9
Helena stared out the dust-coated window of the black Hummer speeding west on Interstate-80, watching the sherbet sunset and chewing her thumbnail to the nub. She’d already surveyed everything inside the enormous tough-boy vehicle twice. A waste of time. The interior was spotless except for several discarded candy wrappers on the floor. There was nothing to tell her who this dark, brooding man truly was.
She quickly stole a glance of Andrus whose gaze was fixed on the road, sunglasses covering his eyes despite the darkening sky.
Of course he can see in the dark, she griped, all monsters can.
Earlier, he’d pulled off his leather coat and was now wearing a plain black tee and leather pants. With both hands firmly gripping the wheel, the thick muscles of his forearms flexed just enough for her to see every menacing rope. She noticed his appearance the first time she’d laid eyes on him. What woman wouldn’t? He was unusually handsome—in a dangerous to your heart kind of way—and built like a brick house.
Problem was, he reminded her of Niccolo. They could be brothers, she thought.
So who was he really? More importantly, what was he? She didn’t buy his scientist story one bit, but she did buy the part about him knowing how to keep Niccolo away. Something about Andrus screamed, “I am lethal!” Yeah, he’d had lots of practice keeping people at a distance.
Helena was a trained observer, a scientist; she knew how to watch and learn. She was good at it. This was how she noticed the pain undulating just beneath the surface of this man’s menacing shell. Maybe it wasn’t obvious to the average Joe or Jill on the street, but this creature was a walking contradiction. Even his short dark brown hair—recently cut and deliberately mussed—was a clue. Cold-blooded men didn’t care about styling their hair in a way that advertised they were dangerous. Truly lethal men tried to hide what they were. The element of surprise was more important. No, he was trying to look more dangerous than he really was—which was still considerably dangerous.
“Where are you from?” she suddenly blurted out.
Andrus didn’t acknowledge her question.
Helena was growing seriously impatient with the secretive act.
Suddenly her phone beeped. It was a message from her mother. Baby, you okay? No response on my email. Are you coming home for Christmas, or I am coming to see you? Airline tickets are on sale, want to buy now.
Crap. She had no idea when she could go home. She needed to end things with Niccolo first. Otherwise, he’d just find her and take her. The situation stank.
Helena quickly replied, Sorry. been swamped w/ work. Yes, coming home for Xmas. Got ticket already. Love u. Miss u! She’d have to figure it out later. Dammit, she hated all these lies!
She turned to Andrus. “Look. You can cut the crap right now. I know you’re not a paranormal scientist.”
A hint of a smile, the frightening kind, touched his lips. “Then, what am I?” he said, his voice low and crawling.
Helena thought for a moment. “You’re not a vampire, but you’re no human either. I can tell.”
No response. His eyes remained locked on the road.
“I think you’re a…demon,” she guessed.
Demon? That sounded silly. Helena chuckled inwardly. She had read way too many novels. Her favorites were the ones where the heroes were dark, brooding demons. She had never actually seen one or truly believed they existed for that matter. But up until a few months ago, she would’ve said the same thing about vampires.
“Sorry. Not a demon,” he said coldly, scratching his rough jaw, obviously not interested in discussing the matter further.
“Fine. I don’t care. Just promise you’ll hold up your end of our bargain and not bully me like Niccolo and his buddies.”
Andrus removed his glassed and flashed a glance her way. “They’ve treated you badly?”
The surreal golden color of his eyes startled her. She lost her train of thought for several moments until she realized he was waiting for a response. Speak, dumb-dumb. “No. Not badly, but like a redheaded stepchild. It’s not just annoying, but hypocritical. I mean, if I’m so lowly, then why did he want me?”
Andrus did not respond for several moments, then, “Even a dog is missed by its owner when it runs away. But it’s still a dog.”
Did Niccolo really think of her as his dog? Christ, he probably does. “I’m not some vampire-pet.”
Andrus stifled a laugh. “No, but can you blame him for trying? You look like the kind who might incite frequent stroking.”
“Sorry?” Helena snapped. Had he just flirted with her?
“Forget it. I will not treat you like a dog, I vow it,” Andrus mumbled, returning to his icy demeanor.
So then, what was he going to do to her? Was she safe with this stranger?
Unlikely.
With the way things were going, Andrus would turn out to be the Grim Reaper.
In fact, now that she was in feeling-sorry-for-herself mode, why not move the needle to a full-fledged pity party? That’s right. Because her life had always been a struggle. Why should now be any different? For years she worked hard, helping her mother make ends meet. It had made her into a workaholic, worrywart, control freak. Her life became all about the future, avoiding a repeat of her mother’s mistakes. That's why she'd never had a boyfriend; friends and school were way safer bets.
Helena’s mom, Laura, had married young. She was from Kansas City and dreamed of the California life—endless sunshine, beaches, and carefree. When she met a young man, a corporal traveling through town who’d stopped at the local bookstore where she worked, it was love at first sight. Just nineteen, she left her life behind in the middle of the night—her hardcore religious parents would never approve of a church “outsider”—and traveled with him to San Diego where they were married. He was redeployed shortly after but never returned. A freak, unexplainable disappearance during a routine patrol somewhere in the Philippines.
Devastated, pregnant, and unwilling to crawl back to her family, her mother moved north to Santa Cruz where she did her best to make a home for Helena an
d herself. But despite her mom’s affection and hard work, Helena always knew something important was missing: her father, her mother’s laughter. Family.
When Helena became older, she secretly hoped her mother would move on, and find another love. But Helena’s mom swore she’d never love another. To this day, she wore her wedding ring and reminded Helena every chance she got of two things: make sure she could always take care of herself, and if the universe blessed her with the gift of knowing her soul mate, she should love him with her entire heart, no matter how much time they were given.
That was Helena’s big mistake. In a moment of weakness, she’d bought into her mother’s romanticized version of the world and had forgotten the pain and sacrifice accompanying it. She fell for Niccolo—or, perhaps, she’d fallen for the dream of Niccolo. Reality, as she’d discovered, hadn’t stacked up.
Because he didn’t love you back. She would never, ever, ever make that mistake again.
Helena again glanced over at the menacing looking man who could have been Niccolo’s long lost cousin, except for his golden eyes. He was a painful reminder of what she’d left behind and wanted so desperately to forget. And like Niccolo, she knew she couldn’t trust him; no man with that much darkness clinging to him was meant to be trusted. But what choice did she have? He was right; Niccolo would not stop until he got her back. Life would be running and hiding until she found a way to free herself.
Pang. Again that stupid pang when she thought of life without Niccolo.
Her cell phone suddenly vibrated again. She dug it from her front jean pocket, expecting another text from her mother, but instead saw: I warned you, Helena. You cannot hide from me. I will find you. I will always find you. You are mine.
Helena fumed. “Arrogant son of a…”
She texted in reply: Not yours. Never was. Never will be.
He replied, I’m sorry for what happened. Please, come back.
Too late, Vampire. It’s over.
Several moments passed before he replied. Tell me where you are before someone gets hurt.
Her heart sank. Was he really threatening her?
Andrus glanced at her several times, before saying, “It’s your vampire, isn’t it? He’s threatening you.”
“He’s just mad. It’s the bond, that’s all. He’ll get over it once it’s broken.” Ironically, she felt embarrassed by his behavior.
Andrus raised one brow. “I’m sorry. I know your situation is not easy.”
Helena shrugged. “I’m sorry, too. I wish things had ended differently.” She ran her hands through her tangled curls and flipped down the sun visor to inspect her face. The bags under her eyes said it all. “So, which airport are we going to? Midway or O’Hare?”
Andrus smiled at her unexpectedly. “We are driving. I don’t fly.”
“Don’t fly?”
He shook his head. “No. It is…unnatural.”
Okay. That was strange coming from someone who was obviously so…unnatural or, well, supernatural. “But driving to San Francisco will take days.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “This will give us plenty of time to talk. I will teach you what you need to know, and you will answer my questions.”
Why did Helena suddenly feel like she was betraying Niccolo by spending several days alone in a car with a devastatingly gorgeous man? Her mouth went dry. She turned her head toward the backseat to grab her water bottle from her pack. “Oh. Come on! I left my backpack on the bus.”
According to Darwin, you’re a prime candidate for extinction. Too stupid to live! Could she be any more forgetful and ridiculous? How about predictable? She let out a long sigh. Cut yourself some slack, you’ve gone through some major trauma. Well, what did it matter? She was going to have to leave her life behind anyway. Again.
As if reading her thoughts, Andrus said, “Material things are replaceable, Helena. You can always start over as long as you have control of your life.”
He was right. That’s what she needed, to be in control again. She wasn’t a helpless victim of this bond she now shared with a vampire. She was smart—yes, yes. Forgetful at times, too, but—she was also resilient, resourceful, and determined.
“What do you want to know first?” she asked.
***
Helena was beginning to notice how everything Andrus said was devoid of emotion. He’d asked simple questions about Niccolo and Helena’s day-to-day life—not much to tell. He asked about Niccolo’s work patterns, how many men guarded her, and if she’d ever heard any particularly strange conversations.
“Am I boring you?” she finally asked.
Andrus made a little shrug.
“Well,” she said. “I never promised you any juicy information. It’s not my fault they wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Andrus nodded. “It is strictly forbid for humans to know anything about their world. Leaking such information is punishable by death.”
“Why can you tell me everything, but he can’t?”
Andrus answered, “I tell you what you need to know, not everything.”
“Even so.”
He shrugged. “There is no punishment anyone can inflict worse than what’s already been done.”
His answer made Helena’s skin crawl. “Done?”
Andrus turned his head, his golden eyes reflecting the hatred lurking inside him. “They stole something from me.”
Who’s they? Helena asked him to elaborate, but he ignored the question. Helena let it go. Clearly, talking about it pained him.
After several quiet moments, Andrus abruptly turned off the highway and insisted she buy supplies. Their first stop had been the drugstore for toothpaste and other toiletries. Now he wanted her to buy clothes.
Helena reluctantly took the roll of bills from Andrus as he ushered her towards the front door of the trendy looking boutique just east of Chicago in the burbs. “I’m paying you back for this—”
“No need,” he objected. “You're doing me a favor. Three days in a car together, remember? Please, the store is closing in fifteen minutes, and more importantly, it is now dark. I do not know how closely they are following behind, nor how many he’ll send,” Andrus’ voice held no hint of concern. He was merely stating the facts.
Andrus crossed his arms over his broad chest and turned his back to stand guard in front of the store.
She then noticed how tall he was; maybe six-three? The heavy leather boots he wore made him appear taller.
“My boyfriend loathes shopping, too.”
Helena turned and saw a thin brunette with heavy, black eye make-up standing behind the counter. Helena chuckled nervously. “Oh, he’s…” not my boyfriend, she was about to say. Never mind, doesn’t matter. “Yeah, he’s completely allergic to shopping.”
The clerk smiled. “The shop closes in ten. But if you need a few extra minutes, I’m just straightening up; so no problem.”
Helena nodded and headed straight for the stack of jeans and tees. They had a small selection of sexy little lace bras and thongs. Right now she’d give anything for a pair of comfort grannies and cotton tank-bras, but there were none. She shrugged, added a black thirty-four C pushup to the pile in her arms, and then followed the sign to the dressing rooms.
She hung the items on the hook, removed her sweater, and tried on the bra. It was just like one she’d purchased recently, hoping Niccolo might see her in it. But he never had. Technically, they’d barely been to first base. That was outrageous considering they were technically married in vampire-world. And weren’t vampires supposed to live for seduction? Maybe she wasn’t good—
“That bra is delectable on you.”
Helena jumped. Niccolo stood directly behind her, elegantly poised against the full-length mirror, arms casually crossed over his powerful chest. He wore plain low-slung jeans—blue for once, not black—and a snug light gray sweater. His thick black hair was loose, slightly wild, and hanging below his collar. He looked incredibly sexy. And angry.
“But ho
w—how the hell did you find—”
He lunged forward, grabbed her by the shoulders, and gave her one furious shake, making her teeth clack. “Inferno sacro, woman!”
Before she had a chance to protest, he moved his hands to the sides of her head and took her mouth in a possessive kiss. Helena’s toes instantly curled. Every muscle in her body devolved into ebbs and flows of warm molasses. His lips were like two demons of temptation sent to coax all rational thought from her mind and replace them with hard, hot lust.
His rough hands slid down to her bare neck and shoulders to her waist and then slowly raked their way back up over her stomach to cup both breasts. His thumbs toyed with Helena’s nipples through the thin black lace of her bra. His touch was like being struck with a searing bolt of erotic electricity.
Stunned by her body’s potent reaction. Helena broke the kiss and sucked in a sharp breath. Their eyes locked, and in that fleeting moment of silence, something happened. A wordless exchange of raw emotion. Acknowledgment of their connection. Time seemed to stand still as she felt his light—his soul—mingling with hers. She was inside him. He was inside her. For that one fragile instant, everything between them was pure, honest, and strangely primal. Two living creatures connected.
The bond.
Then, like a dust storm whipping through the wide-open desert, the moment of clarity was swept away. Her mind fogged with a blaze of raging lust.
Niccolo, as though caught in the same mindless storm, effortlessly lifted her body and plastered her to the wall with his weight, wrapping her legs around his waist. The hard ridge of his erection pushed against her. He growled and ground his hips between her thighs, sparking bursts of flutters into the depths of her core.
He took her breath away.
Oh God, now she couldn’t remember why she’d ever left him. She needed him. More than air or sunlight and beaches, definitely more than garlic. Hell, she just needed him. She flung her arms around his neck, silently inviting him to take everything from her.
“Please, Helena,” he panted in between smoldering thrusts of his tongue. “I’m sorry…for the way I behaved…I wasn’t…myself. Please come back. I promise…everything will make sense.” He continued rubbing his thick erection through her pants, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in time with his hips.