A Wicked Hunger (Creatures of Darkness 1) (28 page)

Clearly, Trent had resigned them to their fate, and it was time Knox took control of this situation.

Drab grey walls boxed Mace in. The illumination coming from the computer screen bounced off his skin, bathing it lightly in a harsh blue tone. After so many days down here, he could almost understand Cora’s aversion to the place, even as his kind tended to prefer underground domiciles.

Going down the list Trent had provided, Mace typed in the name of the next suspect: Randall Pike. It was one of Cora’s old neighbors whose wife had recently and miraculously recovered from terminal brain cancer. Mace had already gathered intel on the man when first assigned to the case.

On the surface, Randall was an entrepreneur, investor, and wealthy restaurant owner with several five-star establishments to his name. His net worth was twice what Winston’s had been.

Behind closed doors, the stout, balding Randall was…boring.

He cared for his wife, was a devoted father, donated to various charities, appeared to be law abiding. And for a man of his stature, he was oddly polite to the help. Nothing like how Winston and some of his cohorts had been.

In fact, the only indication of Randall’s possible involvement with the black-market blood rested solely on his wife’s newly acquired good health.

Like the others, Mace checked Randall’s phone records, hacked his personal computers, scanned his emails, made backup copies of his entire hard drive, and then audited his finances, noting any large or unusual purchases. He also embedded a spy program before moving on to the next name on the list and repeated the process.

Heavy footfalls at his back indicated Knox’s approach. Mace glanced behind him to see the other vampire leaning against the door frame, clutching a mug. The sweet tang of Cora’s cooled blood tingled in his nostrils.

Jealousy flared as acutely as his hunger.

He hated that he had to share even a drop of Cora with Knox. And not only that, Mace hadn’t been taking as much from her so that she could provide for Knox, thus keeping the peace. Knox hadn’t been making any such concessions. The greedy bastard downed every last drop by mid-morning.

“Can I help you?” Mace returned his attention to the computer.

“Can’t a bloke come and visit his old friend?”

“Sentimental, are we? Drop the pretense. It doesn’t become you.”

“Not sentimental. Just curious.”

After a moment of silence, interrupted by the clicking of his keyboard, Mace took the bait.
“Curious about what?”

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Ouch, do you need something for the pain?”

“Do you honestly believe the witch—
”

“
Coraline.”

“—to be clueless of her origins?”

Mace tensed slightly with guilt. Per their conversation with Trent, Knox was aware that, until recently, Cora had no recollection of her true nature, but Mace hadn’t informed him of Cora’s lineage. He was hoping to avoid that revelation as long as possible. At least until Knox’s hostility died down.

“I’ve had a lot of time to determine the genuineness of her claim. I believe she was
bespelled by her mother to forget her birthright.”

“Right.
And to forget her…family. For what purpose?”

“I don’t know, and neither does she.”

“Convenient.”

“She’s been alone all her life, struggling, living like a
human
.”

“Such a tragedy.”

Mace ignored the contempt in Knox’s tone. “She might be a witch, but I guarantee she’s nothing like what you’ve encountered. She’s kind and compassionate. There’s no underlying, devious plot for you to uncover here.”

“Of course.
Just an all-around, bona fide witch…who just happens to be a descendant of the Conwells!”

Mace’s fingers halted over the keyboard. His shoulders cinched higher.

“Were you planning on ever telling me who she really is?”

He swiveled his chair to face Knox. “I’m not sure.”

“And you dare bring her here of all places?”

“You weren’t supposed to be here. I had no idea you’d been assigned to…whatever it is you’re doing.”

“And yet you stayed.”

“Like I’ve said, this is the safest place for her right now.”

Knox’s features contorted into a shallow grin. “You have no idea how wrong you are.”

“What do you mean?” Mace’s eyes darted to Knox’s hand resting on the edge of the heavy metal door, then to the blank re-enforced walls of the…cell?

As Mace came to this realization, Knox answered, “She and I are about to square things away. I think it’s best you stay out of the way.”

Mace lurched out of his chair as the door slammed
shut, the grinding of a metal bar across the door’s front barricaded him inside.

* * *

Cora lay stomach down on the bed, head propped on her elbows and Quick Spells for the Witch on the Go sprawled out in front of her. She swiped her thumb and forefinger over her tongue and then turned the page.

Yesterday, she had tried well into the night to duplicate the Breath of Life, only to be left with a pile of decomposing insect remains. It didn’t help that the whole time Mace had lounged shirtless on the mattress, watching her with a smoldering gaze.

Today, she decided to find a spell that might be a little less advanced. Infusing Body Odor with Floral Scents appeared promising. All she’d need to do was hold an aromatic flower as she chanted a spell.

When
Meeka sauntered across the bed and plopped her body under Cora’s nose, directly on top of her book, Cora decided it was time to take a break. “Are you hungry, cutie?”

Meeka
meowed and began absently licking her paw.

“I suppose I should eat something too, huh? Don’t want all that pie to go to waste.”

Downstairs in the kitchen, she set Meeka near the newly designated cat bowl beside the fridge and filled it with dry food from the bag she and Mace had procured in town. Meeka happily crunched away.

As Cora dug through the fridge for herself, she got the uneasy sense of being watched. She straightened her spine and glanced around, seeing no one. Yet still, she felt ill at ease. “Hello?”

She ducked into the living room. Her heart stuttered when she spotted a shadowy figure across the room. It rolled and tilted what looked to be its head like a curious animal would. Its transparent body mimicked the eerie move.

She shivered.

Then the mist sank to the ground and crawled along the carpet toward the stairs before ascending to the second floor. It paused halfway up, and she got the impression it wanted her to follow.

Though i
t had startled her, she didn’t sense an open threat from the thing. It might not have even meant to scare her. Maybe that was why it wanted her to go to it, rather than coming to her. If it had approached, she would have headed straight down to the underground compound to find Mace. Phobia be damned.

If the apparition was sentient, it might have expected that reaction from her. Her fear could just be inherent, born of ignorance.
Or perhaps not. She should have gone back and read that section on ghosts.

After several moments, curiosity won the debate in her head, and she started for the stairs.

As she skirted around the furniture, a hard wall of muscle plowed into her from behind, pinning her legs to the back of the couch. The quick motion thrust her torso forward and she braced herself on the seatback.

“Hello
Coraline.” The dangerously deep voice could only belong to Knox.

Without thought, she cried out for Mace.

“He’s a little trapped by his work at the moment. It’s just you and me. Shall we cozy up?”

Thick fingers gripped her nape and drew her back against his chest. His warm breath whispered along her neck. She swallowed hard, feeling her pulse spike, which was probably what Knox was going for.

“What do you want?” She feigned bravado with all she had in her, but her voice still shook.

“We haven’t had a load of quality time to get to know each other,” he said darkly. “This is me, making time.”

“What have you done with Mace?”

“Relax,
cher
. He won’t be interrupting us this time.” Knox ran his nose along the curve of her neck towards her earlobe. With his lips an inch away, he said, “I think you owe my aching bollocks an apology kiss.”

Anxiety made her terse. “How ’bout we just shake hands and call it a day?”

A rough chuckle rumbled through him. “Saucy witch. Maybe I should give you a tongue lashing instead.”

She shuddered, wondering if Knox intended the double-entendre. “Get to the point,” she snapped.

His crotch pressed deeper into the crevice of her jean-clad ass, and his fist tightened in her hair before angling her head to the side. The tips of his fangs trailed along her skin, yet not penetrating. “Is that really what you want?”

Her throat grew thick, and she could only gasp at the sensation of sharp teeth grazing tender flesh. She knew she wasn’t walking away from this without, at the very least, his fang in her. She had accepted that fact from the moment she’d heard his unmerciful voice. And she knew the moment he bit her she would like it no matter what—such was the nature of vampires. However, and to her utter confusion, the shiver that raked through her bordered on anticipation, rather than aversion.

What was that about?

It was only because Mace had taught her the rapture of his bite, she quickly reasoned. It was Mace she wanted breathing in her scent as Knox was now.

Knox pulled his fangs away to mutter, “Your death would solve everything. You know that, don’t you?”

She froze up in his grasp.

“He thinks you’re his. But you can’t be his when you’re mine.”

“I’m not
yours.”

“You’ve made it so by bonding me,” he accused vehemently.

“I didn’t—”

“Claim ignorance once more. It matters not. It’s done. And now I can’t decide if I want to kill you or fuck you.”

Adrenaline surged, and her body thrashed. He yanked her head back in warning as his thick arm snaked around her waist. As a result, her ass jutted out and her back arched awkwardly.

She let out a terrified sob, her eyes watering. “Please, Knox. I never wanted any of this.”

His hand splayed along her stomach, the tips of his fingers dipping under the hem of her pants and finding the strap of her frilly underwear.

“You don’t want this?” Amusement underlined his tone.
His hand in inched lower.

“No.”

“Then why do I scent your arousal?”

She shook her head in denial, her hair pulling taut in his grasp as she did so. She made no other response.

“It’s because you’re playing me,” he accused. “Mace too. To be fair, he’s always been a fool. And now that you have your magic, we’re doomed to be enslaved by you for as long as you deem fit.”

Again she shook her head.

His fist in her hair tightened to the point of pain. “I’ve made my decision. I’m going to eat you, fuck you, and then kill you.”

Her tender flesh gave way to sharp points as his fangs sank in. Short-lived pain was slashed by near instant ecstasy, muddling her mind.

Panic ebbed, and she moaned. 

Knox groaned, the sound caressing her flesh. The tips of his fingers breached her panties, brazenly descending. Her cheeks fired red-hot at what she knew he would discover.

He stilled, a barbarous sound rumbling through his chest. Then, unabashedly he began stroking her considerable dampness while greedily sucking at her neck. Her ass moved against his crotch. He rewarded her by swiping his thick finger over her clitoris.

Even as euphoria seized her, she cursed her treacherous body’s response to his feral brutality. A conflict battled in her pleasure-numbed brain. This was wrong, but oh so right. He would kill her, but what a way to go.
But before all that? He would take her against her will.