Haunted by the King of Death (32 page)

This time, he would be aware of what was happening, and she wanted him so crazed with need that he wouldn’t panic, wouldn’t care when it happened. He had been upset when she had mentioned feeding on souls to him. He had hidden it, but she had seen it in his eyes, had been able to read it in the subtle changes of his body language, so in tune with him that he hadn’t been able to conceal the fear from her.

She didn’t want him to be afraid.

What they were going to do was beautiful, not terrifying.

Grave went to reach for her but stilled when she lifted her skirts and eased up his body. His hands fell to her legs and he stared down at her thighs as she positioned herself over him, the hunger in his eyes growing as he watched her take hold of his length. He groaned in unison with her as she nudged the blunt head inside her and pressed down, slowly taking his long rigid cock into her. Gods, he always felt so good, stretching her and filling her so beautifully.

“Isla…” he whispered and she pressed her fingers to his lips, knowing the fear he wanted to voice. He was close. She had pushed him too far and he wasn’t likely to last long, but she didn’t want a slow session of lovemaking. That wasn’t their style.

She needed it as wild as they always were, as frenetic and consuming as it was every time they came together like this.

She leaned over him, grasped the back of his neck and kissed him as she began rocking on him, lifting herself off his cock before sliding back down its length until his pelvis hit her sensitive bundle of nerves, sending a thrill shooting through her.

He groaned, grabbed her backside and began moving her on him, guiding her and setting a wild pace, one that had her panting hard against his lips, her breath mingling with his as he pounded into her.

Gods. She had missed this.

She had missed him.

She moaned and grabbed his hair, yanked his head back and kissed him harder. His fangs brushed her tongue as she delved it between his lips, and the tinny taste of blood flooded her senses.

Her blood.

She hadn’t thought it possible for him to bite her in this form, even when she had known he still possessed his fangs, but the thought that he could sent a sharp thrill through her, roused a fierce hunger to feel them sinking into her flesh.

Grave groaned, shuddered and then he was on her mouth like a man possessed, seizing control. He rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him as he pulled her hips into the air and thrust deep into her, taking her body as he took her mouth. His fangs caught her lower lip, spilling more blood, and she shuddered as he closed his mouth over hers and stole every drop.

“Isla,” he murmured between kisses, breathless and wild in her arms, untamed and beautiful. Her savage, wicked vampire.

He plunged deeper still, his thrusts rough and hard, just what she needed as she soared higher and felt as if she could almost reach the stars. She kissed him deeper and focused on her phantom powers, drawing them to the surface. Her breath cooled, bouncing back at her from Grave’s lips, and his soon joined it.

His thrusts faltered but she wrapped one leg around his waist to keep him where he was, where she needed him to be.

“Do not fear your instincts,” she whispered as he pulled back, awareness shining in his blue eyes, mingled with a trickle of fear. “You will not hurt me… it is only a small piece… enough to bind us.”

The fear that had been building in his eyes immediately dissipated, replaced with a hunger that startled her.

His lips found hers again, cooler now, sending a deeper sort of thrill rushing through her. She had never felt anything like it. Every cell in her body sizzled with awareness, blazed with energy as she kissed Grave and he moved inside her, and the pleasure rolling through her only grew in intensity, becoming a mind-numbing tingling as she felt her power draining from her.

She immediately responded, feeding from his lips as he took from hers, stealing the piece of his soul. The coolness that had been running through her turned to liquid heat, lava that rushed through her veins and through Grave’s too if his strangled moan was anything to go by, or the way his thrusts deepened again, gaining strength and pace as he kissed her.

The tingles racing over her skin and running through her blood pooled between her thighs and on her back, and she burned where they settled, the fire growing in intensity and temperature as Grave thrust deep into her, filling her with every hard inch of his cock. She clung to him, gripping his shoulder with one hand and the back of his head with the other, holding him to her as the mark on her back began to blaze.

Her whole body felt as if it was on fire.

The sensations bombarding her, building within her, reached boiling point and she broke away from Grave’s lips and screamed as every molecule in her body seemed to explode, her core clenching and quivering as release shot through her and the lines of her mark pulsed with new life.

With a new bond.

Grave arched above her, thrusting his cock deep into her core, and roared as his own climax took him, his length throbbing wildly as it shot warm jets of seed into her.

His eyes slowly widened, and she knew why.

She could feel it too, the awakening of their bond, the threads that twined them together gradually gaining strength as the mark on Grave’s back appeared. Light sparkled from above his shoulders, pulsing in time with his cock, and that same light glowed in his blue eyes as he lowered his head and looked down into hers.

Together with love.

His lips twitched into a smile and then he dropped to his elbows and kissed her softly, tenderly, stealing her breath away all over again.

Isla wrapped her arms around him and idly traced the pattern of his mark, savouring the connection to him, one that was precious to her. She had been an idiot, had done so many foolish things, but that ended now.

Grave had wanted a fresh start for them. He wanted to do things right this time.

She wanted that too.

She wouldn’t live in their past anymore.

Their future started now.

She pushed at Grave’s shoulders, needing to tell him that she loved him and that they would do things right this time, they would have the forever both of them wanted.

A sound like thunder boomed overhead.

The entire building shook and dark power spread like an oily tide down through the layers of it, chilling her as it touched her phantom form but making her burn at the same time.

The demon prince.

Fury rose to consume her as the thought she would finally have her vengeance speared her mind and roused her soul. Her senses reached outwards, scouring the building for the bastard, and her blood burned as she pinpointed him on the roof.

It chilled a second later.

When a baby wailed and a woman screamed.

“Helena!”

G
rave led the charge, tugging up his combat trousers and fastening them as he raced barefoot for the bedroom door. He grabbed his sword as he passed it, yanked the wooden door open and broke into a dead sprint as soon as he hit the corridor on the other side.

“Grave.” Isla entered the hallway behind him and began closing in on him. “You are stronger now. The piece of soul you took from me to bind us… it will give you strength.”

She was right. He could already feel it, a power that flowed through him just beneath the surface of his skin, chilled him in places but didn’t sap him of strength as cold normally would. This icy chill only made him feel stronger.

The power of a phantom.

He reached the end of the corridor and looked up the staircase, and the world streamed past in a white blur. He appeared on the turn in the stairs on the next level and heard his cousins thundering along the corridor there, but didn’t wait for them to catch up.

He focused again and appeared at the open door onto the roof.

Sera stood just metres in front of him, her short red dress fluttering around her thighs and her blonde hair streaming behind her in the night breeze.

On the other side of her, across the broad expanse of flat roof, the demon prince stood gazing down at the delicate white-haired baby in his arms, his polished black horns twisted and curled like a ram’s ones, sharpened at the ends, and huge black wings extended from his bare back.

The male dared to lift a gauntleted hand and stroke the back of a black razor-sharp claw along the baby’s cheek.

“Get your fucking hands off her.” Grave darted out into the open and the male lifted his head, stared across the roof at him without a shred of compassion in his black eyes.

The demon’s pupils stretched into thin vertical slits in their centres, blazing gold in the darkness.

“Helena,” Sera whispered, voice cracking, and Grave looked back at her and issued a silent warning to remain where she was.

He knew she needed to reach her child, but the demon was too powerful for her to fight and he was liable to kill Helena if she attempted to take her back.

The demon slid his fiery gaze from Sera and back to him. “You appear… different… disappointingly so.”

“You son of a bitch!” Isla screamed and burst onto the roof, a blur of white that suddenly took form on the opposite side of the roof to Grave.

She was flanking the demon with him, dividing the male’s attention to gain the upper hand. The strong moonlight made her glow and that glow grew brighter as her hair fluttered around her shoulders and began to rise upwards, and the skirts of her white corseted dress danced around her ankles. Her blue eyes blazed, ethereal and blood-chilling, affecting even Grave as her demeanour changed, her face turning dark, and his senses warned of danger.

“I will kill you for what you did.” Isla launched her hands forwards.

The demon prince reared back, giving Grave the opening he needed.

He focused on Helena and white streamed past him. When the world came back, he was standing right in front of the baby, already turning solid. He snatched her from the demon’s hands and used his preternatural speed to get away before the bastard noticed that Isla’s attack had been nothing but a charade to gain his attention.

The demon prince looked down at his empty arms and then his gaze shot to Grave as he stopped beside Sera, and the male roared at him, the sound deafening as it rolled across London like thunder.

“You have taken enough family from us… I will not allow you to take any more,” Grave snarled at the demon prince and then quickly checked on the squalling bundle in his arms.

Helena’s blue eyes opened and she calmed as she saw him, and relief rushed through him as he saw that she was unharmed. He handed her to Sera, who immediately bundled the baby up into her arms and backed away towards the roof exit. Antoine was there, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her into the shelter of them.

Snow stood beside him, a picture of wrath as he stared down the demon prince.

The male stared back at him, calm and cool, but Grave spotted something that gave his confidence one hell of a boost and almost made him smile as he faded back to his phantom form. The sight of so many powerful adversaries had rattled him.

It wasn’t only Antoine and Snow who had joined them.

Aurora stood beside her mate, her strange green-to-blue eyes locked on the demon, glowing in the moonlight. On the other side of Antoine, Payne had appeared together with some other males and females Grave didn’t know. When he spotted Night through the throng, Lilian held close to him, he shook his head, silently commanding his brother to remain out of the battle.

This wasn’t his fight.

Grave had brought this down upon his family, and he would be the one to deal with the demon prince.

Snow stepped forwards, making it clear that it was his fight too, and the look he slid Grave said that he wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say on the matter. He nodded, accepting his cousin’s help, and turned back to face the demon prince.

The male growled through sharp teeth and held his hand out before him, and the pommel of a black blade rose out of the roof. The huge broadsword slowly travelled upwards, the blade seeming to go on forever as it materialised out of the black tar, and then it finally tapered to a point and the demon twisted his hand, took hold of the black-and-red hilt, and snarled as he hefted it in front of him, pointing it at Grave and Snow.

And Isla.

She drifted closer to them, her twin curved blades drawn and clutched tightly in her hands.

A war cry left her lips that warmed Grave’s blood and had his heart beating harder.

“Nulla Misericordia!”

The demon turned on her with a roar and she launched herself at him, turning solid as her twin blades clashed with his sword, blocking it and driving it back. She lashed out at the huge male who towered over her, catching him across his armoured thigh with one blade and just above his hip with the other. A thin ribbon of red formed where she had cut him, and the male twisted, planted his left foot behind him and swept his blade upwards, slicing through the air.

Snow was there before it could reach Isla, his own sword striking the black blade, sending it back the way it had come and filling the night with the ring of metal clashing with metal.

The demon shifted his focus to Snow.

Grave launched his own attack, drawing his katana and rushing around behind the demon. He focused hard, but it took little more than a thought to turn himself solid, and he snarled as he slashed up the demon’s back, catching one wing and ripping the leathery membrane.

The male flapped those huge wings, battering Grave with them and driving him back.

He let go of his solid form and the wings went straight through him. The demon growled and turned on him, lashing out with his claws, swiping them through the air. They passed harmlessly through Grave’s throat, tearing another feral roar from the demon, this one filled with frustration.

Grave grinned at the bastard as he attacked again, meeting with the same result. Every blow he tried to land went straight through Grave. Gods, he had hated the idea of being a phantom before, but he was loving it now, embraced it as it made him feel invincible.