Rise of the Fae (18 page)

She laughed. “Stop. Don’t do that when I’m so—” She sucked in a sharp breath and moaned.

“I love you, Danika. You are mine and I’m yours. I will always protect you.”

“Mason, I love you too.”

Neeman turned and headed for the stairs, embarrassment fluttered through him.

* * * *

Neeman spent the next hour with William organizing the trackers into rooms. They took a new section of the barracks that no humans were occupying yet. The human tracking students bunked in with the human slaves.

Word had spread about the demons and the demolition of the compound. Neeman tried not to think about what they were going to do now. The Tracking Squad had lost close to half a dozen men in the compound demise. And two humans. It had taken years to assemble such a good group. He didn’t know how long it would take to gather another one. There were two other squads in the states under his control. If a coven war broke out, he’d need to call them to Chicago and possibly call in all the retired trackers as well. If he did that, he might be able to get fifty to a hundred trackers, each worth ten regular Vampires.

William shoved his phone in his pocket and rubbed his forehead as he walked in from the barracks.

“Something wrong?” Neeman asked.

William gave him a bland smile. “Slave troubles.”

“You have a slave?”

“No.” William waved his hand. “Evan is being returned again.”

“The one with blond hair and a bad attitude? Didn’t we just drop her off to a businessman south of Chicago two weeks ago?”

“That would be her. Unfortunately, I’m going to need you to go pick her up once more.”

“Doesn’t this make the fifth time?”

“Sixth and I’m afraid if Danika has her way, this’ll be her last.” William ran his hands over his face.

“What will you do with her?”

William shrugged. “I have no clue. We’ve never had a slave so hell-bent on destroying us that they disrupt every house they go to by trying to rally the other slaves into mutiny.”

“That’s the last thing we need right now, on top of everything else.”

“Exactly.”

“Let me make sure everyone is settled and I’ll go get her.”

“It can wait.” William waved his hand. “Let’s figure these other problems out tonight. Tomorrow evening we can arrange her pick up.”

Neeman nodded and headed to the third floor. Between Selene and Evan, Danika might just go insane, having two women as stubborn as herself in Coven House.

“All righty young lady, I’m going to need to examine your foot.” Doc set down his bag on the coffee table.

The pain had intensified while she’d napped and Selene had awoken with enough magick to do a small pain relief spell. It wouldn’t last long though. While sleeping, all her previous spells had completely dissolved away. In the fae realm, it had been easier to hang onto the magick, even while sleeping, due to the magick in the things around her. But here she had to suck magick out of everything like blood.

Neeman stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest. She tried to sit up.

“You don’t need to move.” Doc’s wrinkled face looked doughy, but his eyes were sharp and alert. She wondered how old he was. He moved to her propped-up foot and examined it.

“It’s significantly swollen. You’ve been walking on it, I take it?”

Neeman looked away.

“I got some help moving around, but I didn’t think it was broken,” she said.

Neeman looked back at her and shook his head.

Nice. That’s what she got for trying to cover his ass?

“Well, we should wrap it up and find you a pair of crutches. Unless...” He looked at her with a knowing gaze.

“I can heal it myself, when my magick recharges.”

He nodded. “Then I think the best thing you can do is take a bath and make sure to wash the abrasions and then sleep. I can bandage you up if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

Doc nodded and grabbed his things and looked at Neeman. “Should I call for a house slave? She’s going to need help bathing.”

“I’ll make sure she has help.”

“I’ll let Danika know she can’t be moved before tomorrow. She needs to rest.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Neeman opened the door and let the old Vampire out. Neeman stood in the doorway looking down the hall before closing the door and setting his forehead on it for a minute.

Why did he keep offering to help her? She obviously caused him distress, but for whatever reason he continued to stick by her side and make sure she was taken care of.

“You don’t need to help me. I can take a bath myself,” she said.

He turned to her, his face expressionless and his tone flat. “Not with that foot you can’t. You may not be able to feel it, but if you walk on it you’ll make it worse.”

She rose from the couch. “Trust me, I’ve been through worse and I can heal it up fine when I’m recharged.”

He was at her side in a breath. His eyes flashed. “Don’t be stubborn about this. You need help. If you don’t want me, I can go get one of the female house slaves.”

He was offering to bathe her, to rub her naked body with a wet cloth.

“I guess it wouldn’t be too terrible to have you scrub my lady parts. You are going to give me a sponge bath, aren’t you?”

A smile crossed his face and he shook his head.

“Oh my goodness! Did you just smile at me?” She gasped.

The smile snapped away as quick as a flash of lightning, leaving her wondering if she’d even really seen it.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh I won’t.” She snorted. “I think that one almost broke your face.”

He chuckled and it warmed her inside. Again he looked like the old photos she’d seen. Especially the one from his surfer days. She imagined him with skin kissed tan from the sun. His hair textured from the salt water, sand clinging to his dripping wet body.

Her heart fluttered and she bit the inside of her cheek and looked away. Her gaze lit on the coffee table.

“By the way.” She grabbed her purse, pulled out the small wooden box, and handed it to him.

He turned it over in his hand. “What’s this?”

“I got it for you before we ran to the arena. I thought it might be...important.”

He ran his thumb over the surface of the small box and recognition dawned on his face.

“I had to shrink it to be able to carry it, but I promise everything in there is fine and when I am recharged enough, I’ll make it bigger again.”

He looked at her, his expression conflicted. “Thank you,” he managed. “I... Thank you.”

She shrugged, her cheeks heated and she looked away. “It’s no biggie.”

He caressed her cheek and persuaded her to look directly in his eyes. “It’s big to me.”

Her chest tightened and she licked her lips, unable to think of something to say. How did he do that to her? He made her weak with desire. Something her mother had taught her never to give in to.

He set the box on the table and entwined his fingers in hers. “Come on. Let’s get you in that bath and get you some fresh clothes.”

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers, opened her purse, and pulled out the thong she’d shoved in the purse. “I have these.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t happen to pack anything to go over those, did you?”

“I was in a hurry.”

He shook his head again.

Neeman set her purse down and then carried her into an adjoining bedroom and from there to the ornate bathroom. A beautiful granite counter with blown blue glass bowls sat under a gilded mirror. A toilet and bidet sat next to the counter. On one end of the bathroom stood a large, slate, glass-enclosed shower with four showerheads, on the other, a large sunken tub.

Neeman sat her on the toilet lid and turned on the water for the tub. She stared at his broad shoulders as he tested the temperature of the water. She wondered if they could both fit into the tub.

“Let me out. I can find out.”

Selene bit her cheek. How was this possible? The urges should have gone away after having sex with Neeman. But they hadn’t. The urges to ride him once more had only gotten stronger.

Between the steam from the bath and the flush of heat in her body, Selene was overheating.

She stripped off her shirt and flung it to the floor. Her bra as well. Modesty wasn’t one of her virtues. Neeman grabbed a towel and turned but dropped it and cleared his throat.

Selene laughed. “What? They’re just breasts. You’ve seen mine before. I mean, I know they’re pretty amazing and everything but you don’t need to stare.”

His eyes widened and he continued looking at her. Then his features darkened. “How did you get those?”

Her head dipped down. Her glamour magick had faded. Selene curled her hands around her middle and shut her eyes, slumping forward. She’d completely forgotten about her scars. Suddenly she didn’t want a bath. She just wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.

* * * *

Neeman stared at the burns and crisscross marks that ran in every direction from her stomach like tree roots.

He cracked his knuckles. Who could do something like that to a female? Bile rose in his throat and anger shook his limbs.

“Selene,” he said, trying to keep the rage from his voice. “Who did that?”

“I think I’d just like to lay down now.” Her voice was so small he barely heard her.

He stepped closer to her, but she cringed away.

He clenched his jaw several times. Taking a deep breath, he knelt by her, trying not to let her see his abject horror. He tried to look up into her face, but her dark hair hung loosely around her, shadowing her features.

“Selene.”

“Don’t.” Her head whipped up and she narrowed her gaze at him. The anger that rolled off her burned through him. “Don’t you dare pity me.” Shame and pain played over her features like a firework show.

“I don’t.” He yearned to hold her and keep her close. He saw her and understood finally. Her need to toy with men, to feel sexy. It was all to cover the truth as easily as the spell she used to cover the scars.

He slid his hands over hers and tried to unwrap them from her stomach. She resisted at first, her eyes conflicted and flickering between green and purple.

“Please,” he asked. Finally she let him move her arms away. The scars were all different shades and sizes. White and fine, like they’d been done with a thin blade, some jagged and thick. Long, short, old, newer. He ran his fingers over them one by one.

“You said they tried to teach you to control your inner demon. Is this what you meant?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“How long did you endure this?”
Please say only minutes.

“Days, months. These were the ones that stayed open too long and couldn’t be healed with magick.”

“So there were more?” Anger almost choked him.

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Many.”

He wanted to tear down the walls to the fae world and kill them all for what they’d done. How could anyone be so cruel? The thought almost suffocated him. How many evils had he seen in this world alone? Why should other races be any different? The things that had been done to Vampires and vampyr by human doctors after the awakening, in an effort to figure out what they were? The things Vampires had done to the vamps after the outbreak. All of it was exactly the same, the reasoning the same. They did it out of fear.

“Come on.” He massaged her neck. “Let’s get you washed up and then figure out what we can do to heal that foot.”

Her face held raw, pure emotion with eyes rounded wide like a beaten puppy. He wanted nothing more than to carry her to the bed and cradle her. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. He helped her up and turned her to lean on the counter. Mild pain echoed through his cheek as he chewed the inside of it. The sight of the curve of her spine, the flawless skin that flowed down to her round firm backside had his pants suddenly feeling a size too tight.

He took in a sharp breath and steadied himself before slipping his fingers in the waistband of her ripped and dirt-caked leggings and tugged them over her curvy hips. His arousal grew larger as he slid them off her shapely legs. She lifted herself up with her arms as he slid them over her feet. Standing, he caught a full view of her black, lacy thong.

Memories of how good her blood had tasted rippled through him. He stared at the creamy expanse of her neck before turning away and pushing his fingers through his hair. The last thing she needed was him trying to get all over her while she was injured.

“Neeman?”

He stared at the ceiling.
Get a grip.

“It’s okay, if this is too hard for you.”

“Is that a joke?” He turned. She stared at him over her shoulder and her gaze dropped to his pants.

“It wasn’t meant as one, but I guess it could be.” She spun on her good foot and faced him.

Her perfectly perky breasts stared at him, begging to be touched.

“What do you think is going to happen when you get me in the water?” she asked. “If it’ll help I can use the toilet first and ruin the moment for you.”

“I’m good.”

He stepped up to her and tried to look anywhere but at her tempting body. He wiped his slick palms on his pants then hooked his fingers under her waistband and removed her underwear. Then, he swooped her up and placed her in the tub, propping up her broken foot on the edge with a towel.

Intimacy had never been his strong suit. Sex, yes, he was good at that. Taking a woman, bending her over, and getting down to business. Cuddly emotional connecting stuff, he’d never learned. Yet it was just that sensitive, cuddly stuff that Selene needed.

He located a washcloth under the sink, rubbed soap on it, and dipped it in the water.

Selene closed her eyes and relaxed into the water.

He wasn’t sure what to do. “Uhm... Do you want to...”

She opened her eyelids. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and started at her shoulders, working the washcloth over her neck and collarbone. He pushed back her hair and wiped the smears and dirt from her face. The bruise on her cheek had stopped swelling, but the grayish purple hue was still ugly.