Caressed by Shadows (Rulers of Darkness Book 4) (6 page)

Chapter Four

The door closed with a soft click behind her. The delicate sound was more like the swift slice of a guillotine.

She squeezed the pillow even tighter to her chest, hoping the pressure of the silk covered down pillow would help ease the ache that spread through her chest and settled like lead in her heart.

A frown creased her brow as she thought of how oddly meaningful the act of closing a door could be. It was so simple, an every day occurrence and yet, it was more, so much more. And the silence that followed should have brought relief instead the quiet beat at her. The door effectively separated her from
him
. Just as she had wanted, right?

No! God, she wanted to scream.

Sonya let lose a blistering curse and hurled the pillow across the expansive bathroom. Upon impact, the down exploded sending feathers and strips of silk scattering across the cool white marble floor.

What she wanted was in the other room. Falcon, the knight who haunted her every dream and plagued her every thought. All that separated them was a door and two pairs of jeans.

“This is going to be a long few days,” she sighed.

Turning to the shower, she pulled open the glass door and flipped on the water.

She rubbed her chest as the ache intensified. A sharp pain slowly crept through her veins like poison. Her heart seized, her vision blurred, and the oxygen slammed from her lungs causing her to gasp for air.

Anguish and disappear rocked her system as loneliness pierced her soul. Her legs gave out, her knees collided with the cold, unyielding floor.

Images of the past flickered through her mind, silent clips of horror and sin. Regret and disgust drifted through her mind like sadistic shadows, taking turns slashing at her soul.

The world crashed around her until everything faded to black. She tried to call out, but air only teased her lips. Her lungs felt like an unmovable steal cage. Sorrow uncoiled within her heart, its talons slicing at her humanity, challenging the vampire within her. Taunting the demon within her with hateful memories that she had long since buried. Nightmares of violence, death, and blood danced before her. Her stomach rolled as her horrific actions unfolded.

She struggled against the dark abyss that clawed at her, dragging her down into Hell.

A soft rhythmic knocking caressed her ears, it sounded so far away. She fought to focus on the here and now even as images of her murderous past flickered through her mind.

Blinking rapidly, she willed her eyesight to return. The brightness of the white bathroom caused her eyes to burn. She sucked in a breath, her lungs reluctantly responded as her heart hammered into motion.

“Your Highness?”

Taking in one gasping breath after another, desperately trying to calm herself, she forced the memories back into the shadowy vault in her mind, locking them away.

She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs trembled. Her hands shook as she brushed her hair from her face.

The pain in her chest eased, leaving her soul battered and the vampire within her on guard, ready for another attack. The Death Curse had marked her.

“Sonya?” Falcon called again.

She stumbled to the dual vanity and turned the water on. Unable to speak, she hoped the running water would make Falcon think she was all right.

“I’m heading out.”

His voice deep, even, and smooth, a sweet balm to her raw emotions and tattered soul. Warmth spread over her, banishing the chill that lingered in her heart from the Death Curse.

“I left a shirt and a pair of shorts out for you.”

She could hear him shifting on his feet on the other side of the door. Sonya gripped the smooth ledge of the counter, her nails extending into claws, anchoring herself in place. She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to throw open the door and fling herself into his arms. She craved his touch and the comfort only he could provide. He made her feel protected and cherished. Falcon was the only man who saw her as a woman. Her past lovers had never looked past her crown, they had always wanted something from her. Power, position, riches, titles, anything other than her and because of this, she hadn’t taken a lover in so long. But Falcon, he would hold her, love her physically and emotionally. He would make a life with her. He truly was the best man she had ever known, honorable to fault.

Shaking her head, she dispelled the foolish idea of them as a couple or her turning to him for comfort.

“There are a few hours left until sunrise. I’m–uh–I’m going to see if I can find a place where you can feed. London isn’t very vamp friendly. No blood banks will be willing to sell. Not to mention, the hunters will be watching them all.”

Sonya tried to swallow, her throat was still tight and her mouth was dry. “Okay,” she managed to say, her voice cracking.

Falcon was silent for a moment. Did he hear the loneliness that laced that one word or could he sense the despair that had gripped her seconds ago?

He placed his hand on the doorknob. She could hear his fingers brush along the smooth finish and her pulse fluttered, her body instantly flushing with excitement. She braced herself for his entrance. Seconds ticked by, anxious tension snapped in the air.

His hand fell away and she heard him take a step back. Her claws bit even deeper into the counter as her body jerked forward of its own accord, seeking him. Sonya blinked back disappointed tears.

God, she was being ridiculous. She kept a tight hold on her emotions, but the Curse had unleashed her most secret regrets, teased her with past actions she wished daily she could forget, and set free her inner most desires.

“I’ll be back late.”

“What about dawn?” she asked, worry elevated her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, too confident for her liking.

She wanted to ask how he could survive the sunlight, but he had already turned from the door. She listened to him cross the room. The soft click of the door closing behind him crystallized her blood.

Alone. She was alone and at the mercy of the Curse.

Sonya splashed her face with icy water. Her breaths came as sharp painful gasps. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. Slowly, the sorrow and crushing loneliness faded leav
ing her body and soul quacking.

She gathered her knotted hair, sweeping it up in a bun, and piled the mass atop her head. Focusing on her breathing, she used her free hand to pat water along her cheeks and across her nape.
 

“Get it together,” she whispered to her ghostly reflection.
 

The episodes were steadily worsening. The Death Curse was gunning for her and she knew the end of her mortality was quickly approaching. An odd sense of relief accompanied the knowledge that she would soon shake hands with the Grim Reaper. She would finally be with her family, god willing.
 

Closing her eyes, she prayed for forgiveness of her past sins, of which there were many. To see her parents and sister again would be a blessing. Though centuries had passed since their brutal deaths, she could still see their cheerful faces and hear their laughter as if they had never gone.

Sonya let her hair down and brushed away the twin tears that slipped down her cheeks.

She opened her eyes and let out a slow sigh.

Damn, I'm a mess.
 

Turning from the vanity, she crossed back to the shower. Steam billowed from the top of the glass enclosure, the heat beckoning her. She unlaced her boots, stepped out of her destroyed jeans and entered the shower.

Stepping under the spray, she welcomed the pleasurable sting of the hot water and the instant relief it gave to her aching muscles.

Closing her eyes, she titled her head back and surrendered to relaxation. Clearing her mind of all thought and worry, she allowed the stream to wash the dirt and blood from her skin. The water revealed numerous cuts and bruises; fortunately her shoulder had become numb after Falcon’s ministrations.

After what seemed like ages, Sonya began her bathing ritual, using the luxurious soap and shampoo provided by the hotel. Once she rinsed her hair clean, she reclined back against the wall and enjoyed the steam.

It wasn’t long before dawn when Sonya finally stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel tightly about her frame then padded to the door.

She emerged from the bathroom; a cloud of steam followed her. She crossed to the bed where Falcon had laid out one of his black shirts and a pair of gray workout shorts. Dropping the towel, she grabbed the shirt. She held it up and inhaled deeply, taking in his fresh, masculine scent. She slipped the garment over her head; the hem fell to the top of her thighs. Falcon stood six feet, three inches, but she was no petite miss. She was long and lean and at five foot ten, she towered over most women she knew. Next, she stepped into the shorts. Dressed, she used the towel to pat her hair dry.

Glancing out the wall of windows she could see the sun peeking over the horizon. She stepped over to the curtains that extended from ceiling to floor; they were thick and black, perfect for blocking the murderous rays. Unlike the elders of the vampire race, she wasn’t strong enough to walk in the sunlight. She had hoped one day she would be able to walk in the golden glow once more, but the Death curse would never allow her to live that long.

Judging by the frequency and ferocity of the attacks, she had about six more good months. After, she would descend into madness. Her mind would be taken over by guilt, while her soul withered beneath a crushing height of loneliness. She would be consumed by an unquenchable bloodlust and hunger for destruction. Next, the poison would set in; her body would waste away as her grip on reality slipped into a black void, leaving her a hollow shell. Only then would death claim her.

She shuddered. Thankfully Sonya had made Gwendolyn, her second, promise to end her immortal life before it ever got that far.

Maybe, if I get into Heaven I’ll be able to walk in the sunlight again.

She released a heavy sigh that slumped her shoulders. With a yank, she pulled the curtains closed and turned her back on the city. Again she wondered how Falcon planned to survive the sun.

Worry and exhaustion tugged at her. With the exception of being drugged for a few hours, she hadn’t slept in weeks. Staying awake while the sun reigned was not an easy feat. The younger the vampire, the more susceptible to sleep they were. However, she’d had plenty of practice. During her early years as an immortal, she rarely slept, ruthlessly denying the pull. She had been on the hunt, constantly searching for the beasts that slaughtered her family.

The world will never the know wolf shifters as you did.

Sonya flinched as the small, quiet child’s voice whispered in her thoughts.

Yes, because of her thirst for revenge, the wolf shifter breed hadn’t stood a chance.

Sonya shook her head, refusing to drudge up those memories and give the curse another chance to attack. She had to keep it together or she and Falcon would never make it home alive.

She also needed to get some rest and heal. Even though her body begged for sleep, she headed toward the kitchen. She inspected Falcon’s arsenal, noting that he had taken his guns. The knowledge made her feel a little more comfortable about him being alone.

The sun was rising. Most hunters would retire for the day since their targets couldn’t prowl during the day.

Except the elders and apparently Falcon.

As she rounded the island, Sonya froze, her fangs burst from their sheaths, extending and sharpening to razor points. Her golden eyes instantly flashed demon black.

Blood.

Falcon had filled a glass with blood. His blood. The dim light coming from the lamps beside the bed caused the crimson liquid to sparkle. It taunted her.

In two strides, she was there; the glass was within her reach.

She licked her suddenly dry lips, accidentally slicing her tongue across her fangs.

The sweet metallic taste filled her mouth.

Her stomach clenched from hunger as the vampire within her rose, straining against its shackles.

Starving. She was starving!

Sonya wrapped trembling fingers around the glass, her extended claws gently scrapped along the elegant curves.

“So–not–fair,” she rasped.

The demon within her demanded she drink, that she savor every drop as if it were a fine Scotch, for Falcon surely was.

Her heart thundered so loudly; she wouldn't be surprised if everyone in the hotel could hear it. She fought to deaden her senses, but, lord above, the scent of Falcon’s blood was intoxicating and she was
ravenous
.

Would one taste satisfy her bloodlust? Or would her craving for the knight intensify? For all she knew, she could drink this and fall into madness, surrendering to her baser instincts. She could possibly attack the guests or she may lay in wait until Falcon returned and tackle him, sinking her fangs into his throat.

The thought sent shivers all the way down to the tips of her toes.