Blood Destiny (16 page)

148

Blood Destiny

by Tessa Dawn

"Those were not my precise—"

"Oh my God," she blurted out, "what have I done?" Her shoulders began to tremble, and then she started to sob uncontrollably, turning her back on him once more.

Marquis looked up at the sky, half expecting to see a red moon based on the sheer intensity of the female's emotion.

He almost wished it were there. Anything. Just to stop the poor child's suffering...just to make her quit crying.

Placing a hand gently on her shoulder, he whispered,

"Joelle, you must stop this at once. I will remove your memories of this night. If you'd like, I can remove your awareness of your feelings for me altogether. Perhaps plant something more appropriate in their place? Is there someone else you might—"

Joelle spun around and glared at him, this time even more visibly wounded than before. Without preamble, she struck him as hard as she could, directly in the chest, with an open hand.

Shocked, Marquis leapt back. Although he hardly felt the blow, a low, almost inaudible growl of warning instinctively escaped his throat.

"Oh, my God," she wailed. "Did you just growl at me? You just growled at me! You really don't have a heart, do you?

You are like a caveman!" She slumped to the ground and buried her face in her arms. "You are, you know?" She sniffled. "Everyone knows that about you. You have no tact!

You rarely show compassion! You're scary as hell most of the time: always glaring and snarling at everyone, ordering your brothers around like a tyrant, and just plain acting like the 149

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world's greatest menace...hoping everyone will stay away from you." She shook her head. "But I can't...because I love everything about you. Even those

horrible...insensitive...obnoxious traits that everyone else fears." The tears ran like a river.

Marquis had seen and heard more than enough.

Reaching down, he scooped her up by the arm, turned her to face him, and began to speak in a silvery voice of pure enchantment. A clear hypnotic tone. "Look at me, Joelle. You will—"

"No!" she shouted, fighting his mind control. "Don't you dare!" She clenched her eyes closed and pointed a finger at his face. "Don't you dare mess with my memories! I mean it, Marquis! You stay out of my head, do you hear me? Please don't do such a thing...I'm begging you."

It was the first time she had ever directly asked him for anything, let alone begged. And it was also the precise moment when he realized just how serious she really was.

Completely at a loss for words, he delved deeper into her mind. Perhaps if he understood her better, had a stronger grasp on where she was coming from, he would know the right way to respond.

Marquis Silivasi was shocked by what he found.

All of the little comforts in his home, the precise way his treasured mementos were always carefully arranged, his favorite books alphabetized by author in the library, none of these things were random. They had all been small acts of kindness motivated by Joelle's deep affection for him.

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She had an absolute awareness of everything he did, everywhere he went, and everyone he was with.

And it went back for...years.

Joelle had learned everything there was to know about the Blood Curse, about his past, and she had spent countless sleepless nights lying awake fantasizing about things she seemed far too young to fantasize about. This wasn't just some childish obsession. This woman had fallen in love with him without so much as the slightest hint of interest on his part. He had never even noticed her...as a female.

He stood quietly. Contemplating. And then he finally spoke in an even tone of voice. "We cannot have a relationship, Joelle. It is simply not possible. Tell me, then; if you are determined to continue working for me, and you are not willing to relinquish your memories, what is it that you want me to do?"

Joelle dropped her head, looking utterly humiliated. She hid her face in her hands and dropped her forehead against his chest. "I want you to give me a chance," she sobbed.

The young human looked up then, staring into his eyes; she appeared mesmerized by their depths as she forced herself to say what was really on her mind. "I've thought a lot about it—I really have. And here's the thing: You are always alone, Marquis. Whenever you aren't working or looking out for your brothers. And I know that you have a lot of responsibilities, but you're still a...male. You have to get lonely."

She rubbed her soft body closer against his, almost instinctively. It wasn't clear whether or not she was trying to 151

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comfort herself or seduce him. "I know I'm acting like a child, but I'm not. I'm a full-grown woman. And I understand perfectly well that you will leave me the moment you meet the woman who was meant for you." She stumbled over the words, her voice faltering at the mere mention of someone else being loved by Marquis. "But who's to say that it will happen in my lifetime? And what if it doesn't? It probably won't. Either way, you don't have to be alone right now."

Placing both of her hands cautiously on either side of his waist, Joelle looked up and held his dark eyes with her own soft, sultry gaze. "If I only have five years, or even just one, I would give my entire world away to be with you, Marquis."

She reached up to touch his hair, as if she couldn't help herself. As if she had always wanted to do so and might never get another chance. "You could even change me if you wanted." It was a whisper. "To be like you." Her heart froze perfectly still in her chest, waiting for his response.

Marquis stared deep into Joelle's longing eyes, seeing her as if for the first time...taking her far more seriously than just moments before. She was a truly beautiful woman, with soft, sculpted features; full, pouty lips; and an enticing feminine body. Everything about her seemed delicate, like porcelain...and just as refined.

He caught at her wrists and shackled them in front of him with powerful hands, forcing her body away from his while restraining her at the same time.

"I cannot make you as I am, Joelle, not even if I wanted to."

"How do you know?" she asked.

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Marquis shook his head. "Joelle, the price of transformation...the cost of immortality for a human is their soul. Only those who are our chosen mates can be successfully changed without being damned. And even for them, the price is a first-born son. I would never do such a thing to you. I would never allow you to do such a thing to yourself."

Joelle blinked back another onslaught of pressing tears.

"Then let me be your lover," she whispered seductively...fearfully. Despite the iron grip he had on her wrists, she managed to press her body temptingly against his while placing a series of soft kisses in the hollow of his throat.

She deeply inhaled his scent and nipped gently at his neck, just behind his ear...just below his chin...all the while pressing her lower body firmly against his in a blatant attempt to arouse him.

Marquis's hands tightened around her wrists in a vise-like grip, and his body became as still as a statue. A deep, feral warning rose in his throat. "Do not move!" he warned. "Not.

One. Muscle."

His fangs exploded in his mouth as the primal heat of a provoked predator rose in his blood. He could hear her pulse pounding in her neck—louder than he'd ever heard it before.

He could smell the sweet nectar of her blood and almost feel the intense pleasure he would experience as he took her body with complete abandon...draining her...robbing her of reason...slowly...exquisitely...taking her life at the same time.

Outside of one's chosen destiny, it was not a natural mating—human and vampire. The call of the wild animal was 153

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far too hard to suppress when a male was that aroused—

completely without inhibitions, devoid of all control.

Marquis's body stirred, becoming instantly thick and heavy at the groin, even as he fought the powerful red haze now invading his mind. She had nipped at his throat.

Teased him.

Bit him.

Involuntarily, he scraped his teeth against her delicate skin, dragging them back and forth as a deep, guttural sound, somewhere between a snarl and a groan, rose up from his throat. He wanted to drink her blood. He needed to drink her blood.

Just one taste.

Marquis fought his primal nature, knowing that Joelle was in mortal danger. She had played with fire: a power far beyond her comprehension or control. She had not intended to provoke his predatory instincts; rather, she had only wanted to be with him...to be loved by him. To know him in every possible way.

Of one thing, Marquis was certain: She had not expected to die at his hands.

Joelle froze. Exactly as he instructed. Not willing to move a muscle. Not even daring to breathe.

Trembling, Marquis wrenched his teeth away, and then he hissed a long, slow warning like a coiled snake. "Do you have any idea what I am?"

His dark eyes were burning—undoubtedly glowing like fiery crimson coals—the phantom blue centers now absent of 154

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civility. Releasing her wrists, he shoved her back and leapt further away himself.

"Marquis, I'm so sorry!" she cried. Her small frame fell hard on the deck, and she slowly stood back up. "God, you must think I'm a terrible, selfish person."

Marquis lurked almost ten feet away, crouched down like a wild animal, behind the cover of a large fir tree. His head was dropped low to the ground, and wild mounds of thick black hair fell forward, concealing his panic-stricken face. He was fighting the beast within him with all of the strength he had.

The silly woman had absolutely no idea what he was capable of.

Either her father had failed to teach her, or he had not made his true nature clear enough. Either way, she needed to run.

And now.

Slowly, with grace and stealth, he raised his head like a hungry wolf. His lips drew back from his fangs, twitching with barely concealed menace, and his eyes turned cold and vacant.

Using the full power of his voice to control her mind, he gave her an order: "Go!"

* * * *

She raced down the steep, unpaved road, flew to the end of the lane, slid across a patch of loose gravel, and finally crawled into her car—where she hastily locked the doors.

As if locks would help.

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Shaking and crying, she fumbled wildly for her keys. Her dream was shattered. Her heart was breaking. Her world was no longer safe.

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156

Blood Destiny

by Tessa Dawn

Jocelyn awoke late the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking and fresh coffee brewing in the large downstairs kitchen. Making her way from the sofa, where Nathaniel had left her the night before, to the first-floor dining area, she cautiously entered the adjacent room.

"You must be Jocelyn."

A tall, auburn-haired woman with light blue eyes stood over a large industrial stove, bordered by custom stone tiles.

She was flipping pancakes and frying bacon, and her genuine smile lit up the room.

"I'm Colette," she said. "It's so nice to meet you."

Jocelyn eyed the unfamiliar woman warily. She looked human, but then how could one tell? "Where is Nathaniel?"

Colette flipped the last pancake onto a warming plate and turned off the gas burner. "Nathaniel was out late last night.

He didn't want to wake you when he got in, so he asked if I would be willing to visit with you while he slept. Not to mention, his housekeeper is out running errands this morning, and Nathaniel is a horrible cook."

Jocelyn frowned. "You mean he asked you to guard me while he slept...."

Colette met Jocelyn's scrutinizing gaze head-on. "No, I wouldn't consider that statement accurate, really. It's not unusual for...males...like Nathaniel to sleep off and on throughout the day. They have far more energy at night. My sense was that Nathaniel didn't want you to wake up alone in 157

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a strange place." She placed two pancakes, a strip of bacon, and some scrambled eggs on a plate and set it on the granite bar behind her. "Here. Have a seat. Eat some breakfast."

Jocelyn reluctantly looked at the plate. She didn't want anything to do with Nathaniel or this new woman, but she had to admit she was starving. She hadn't had a bite to eat since hiking to the Red Canyons the day before.

Colette poured a glass of orange juice into a small ornate glass and set it beside the plate along with a fresh set of silverware, folded neatly in a linen napkin. "Would you care for some coffee as well?" She gestured toward the pot.

Jocelyn nodded and grudgingly took a seat at the bar while Colette poured the coffee and sat down beside her. "Nathaniel also asked me if I would be willing to talk with you." There was a long, drawn-out moment of silence before Colette continued. "He told me about what happened last night. What you saw in the canyon. He felt like you might be more comfortable speaking with a woman, maybe a little more likely to speak your mind."

Jocelyn stared at the confident, welcoming woman like she was a microbe under a microscope: dialing in on every little nuance in order to determine her species and origin. She wore a pair of faded Levis and a blue cotton shirt. She walked with graceful ease and tactful confidence—like someone who had complete control of the world around her and knew it.

She had kind eyes, and there was an obvious sincerity in her smile. Seemed normal enough.

"If you don't mind my asking, who are you anyway?" The words came out a bit harsher than Jocelyn intended, but then 158