Zero to Love (4 page)

“Those Mindchangers, they’re called Free Wills. Have you heard of them?”

He watched her mind revolve around his question, catching a thread of something he couldn’t quite see. The filament vanished when she tried to grasp it.

“Look at me.” His command fell between them.

Without restraint, her gaze swung to his. Fuck, she was too trusting even when it came to him. Didn’t she know how badly he could hurt her?

Steadying the SUV on a straight path, he dived into Magda’s gaze. If he wanted, he could search through every thought, memory, or kernel of knowledge she’d ever had. But he wouldn’t. She deserved better.

“Why won’t you feed from me?”

Her question punched him hard. He grunted and tore his gaze from hers—a first for him. Usually the human looked away. “You don’t know, do you?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t feed from you. I can see into your mind, but you won’t give anything up to me.”

A pulse of silence. Then she twined her fingers together until the knuckles grew white.

Up ahead, he spotted an emergency pull-off. In a blink he reached it, then whipped into the spot. He powered the engine down with his mind so all was silent inside the cab.

The furious tick of Magda’s mind was loud enough.

“Sweetheart, what you don’t know yet is that we’re going to be in this together, so communication is important going forward.”

“Fine.” She turned those bottomless blue eyes on him. His adrenaline surged, his hunger suddenly boundless as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“Does it bother you that I can’t feed from you?” He held his breath, already seeing the answer as bright as a brand-new star in her mind.

She shifted, and her dress rode higher, nearly exposing her crotch. “I…want you to feed from me.”

His cock hardened in response to her words, and he tensed his muscles in order to remain seated.

“Is that strange?” She swiped her lower lip with her tongue, and he tracked the movement, unable to look away from the glistening wetness. Headlights flashed past, but he and Magda were alone out here, surrounded only by inky night.

No one would know if he kissed her. Took her.

But one taste would mean he wouldn’t let her go. And no human like Magda would be happy with him forever.

He forced himself to look away. In a rough voice he said, “It’s not as unusual as you’d think. Humans who feed a Mindchanger reap benefits from the union.”

“Such as?” She shifted her body in the seat, and he was too drawn to the shadow between her thighs to stop himself.

He reached across the space and plucked her from the seat, then deposited her onto his lap. Warmth permeated his leather as her lush body molded to his. In her mind, he saw her consider sliding her hand up his chest a split second before she did.

Holding his breath, he watched emotion play over her face. But she held it in check—nothing leaked out for him to taste.

“When a Mindchanger feeds, he gives you a new thought. I can take a boring thought from you—what is for dinner, maybe—and fill you with lurid ones of pleasure.” He leaned so close his breath washed over her lips.

“So you can intensify everything in my mind until I crave nothing but you.”

“Yes.” Her scent teased him, as sweet as the honey of her mind.

“But you can’t do that to me.”

Pain of loss stabbed him deep. He shook his head, brushing his nose against hers. “No, but I can do this.”

Chapter Three

Monroe claimed her mouth with an abruptness that stole her breath. The crush of lips wasn’t enough—would never be enough. She needed a bite, a sting. Was that how it would feel if he fed from her?

She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down, down.

He slanted his mouth over hers and plunged his tongue deep. He tasted woodsy, like smoke and lust. Her nipples peaked and her pussy squeezed, releasing a flood of juices. The scrap of lace covering her sex dampened.

“More,” she whispered between gulping breaths.

He groaned. The rumble vibrated all the way to the marrow of her bones. Then he finally did it—sank his teeth into her lower lip and tugged until she quaked with a rush of desire.

Her head dropped back, and she reveled in the sensations he raised in her. His body, lean but muscled, aroused parts of her she didn’t know she had. Her bare thighs against leather maddened her, and she wiggled.

“Fuck,” he grated out, rocking his erection against her ass. Lust raged through her body. Had she ever been so out of her head?

No. Only with him.

His smile stretched over her mouth as he obviously read her thought. He nipped her lips until she was gasping; then he bathed the hurts with his tongue. This was the harshest kiss she’d ever received—especially for a first kiss—and she hungered for more. More nipping bites on her breasts, belly, pussy.

He tore away, panting hard. Under her hands, his chest rose and fell.

She traced the sharp lines of his cheekbones, his straight nose, and his unsmiling mouth set into an angular jaw. “You’re hungry, and I can’t feed you.”

“You don’t want to go there anyway, Magda.” He grasped her upper arms and lifted her effortlessly, placing her back into the passenger seat. At the loss of his heat, goose bumps broke out over her, but the real ache was in her chest.

“I don’t want to go there, or you don’t?”

At her thought, he swung his gaze in her direction. In the darkness, piercing eyes glittered black instead of green. “Dammit, I don’t know what to do with you.”

Her hair tumbled into her face, and she brushed it back. He followed her movement, and she felt the touch of his eyes like a caress. “Those Mindchangers at the party…” The vision of Keefe rose in her mind.

“No, Keefe’s a good guy.”

“The others, though…”

“Free Wills. You’ve heard of their attacks on humans, I’m sure.”

She searched her memory but couldn’t bring forth any mention of a Free Will attack.

A crease formed between Monroe’s pale brows. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “They were after you.”

A shiver coursed down her spine. Monroe reached for her, then yanked his hands back. He clamped them around the steering wheel.

“Now that they have you in their sights, they aren’t going to back off.”

“Why me?”

He delved into her gaze. As he probed her with his feelers, chills washed over her skin. With a rough sigh, Monroe ran his warm fingers down her arm. Her gooseflesh only intensified at his touch.

She couldn’t have looked away if she tried. He held her captive with his eyes, mind. Powers.

Maybe the things she was feeling weren’t real after all—maybe any Mindchanger could produce this reaction.

His eyes darkened as he read this thought. She watched some emotion play in the depths—sadness?

He dug deeper. She felt the layers of her mind part. Memories flashed as well as words and fragments of speech. Suddenly a lamp that stood in the corner of her bedroom loomed in her mind’s eye.

Monroe’s nostrils flared. Then he released her so abruptly her head made a dizzy revolution. She sank her head into her hands.

“I can take you home now. You’ll be safe there.”

While she kept her face buried in her hands, he revved the SUV back onto the roadway. He made a violent U-turn, and they raced back toward Helgedom. Streetlights reached between the cracks of her fingers and dug into her aching eyes. Nausea swept her, but her mouth was bone-dry.

“Magda, do you have a key to your door?”

“What?” Her voice was a quiet rasp, and she realized he’d cut the engine. Lifting her head, she peered out the window at her house. It was dark. Even the lights in her father’s study were off.

“Oh. No, I don’t have keys. Elijah had them. I didn’t carry a purse.” And there had been nowhere to tuck a house key inside the tiny dress she wore.

“If you’ll give me permission, I’ll open the door for you.”

She shot him a look. “What do you mean?”

“With my mind. I can do things with numbers.”

She shook her head. Her mind made another slow circle. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a gift I have. I can see numbers everywhere, in every engine, tiny machine part, and lock. Since I can see them, I can manipulate them.” He raised his chin, gesturing toward the front door. A single bluish light on the porch suddenly turned on. “Your light is 4987. Your lock is 2982.”

When she didn’t move, he climbed out of the SUV and rounded the vehicle to her door. She slid to the edge of the seat.

Monroe clamped his hands on her waist and drew her into his arms. Slowly. Letting her feel his hard, warm body for a heartbeat before he set her on her feet.

Breathing raggedly, she followed him to the door. A tiny
snick
sounded.

“You’ll be safe here. But do me a favor. Don’t go out alone.”

Her head thumping like a war drum, she nodded. She placed a hand on the door lever and opened the door quietly.

“Go on,” he said, backing down the cobblestone walk toward the SUV. The night was swallowing him—his body devoured by shadows.

Would she ever see him again?

He pivoted sharply and strode away.

Before he reached his vehicle, she called out, “I thought we were in this together.”

His footfalls silenced. She waited a long minute, but he didn’t respond. So she went inside. The scents of home greeted her—her father’s cigar smoke and the fresh flowers that had graced every room for her entire life. They mysteriously appeared weekly, fresh and lovely.

She kicked off her heels. Five inches shorter, she padded barefoot across the cool tile to a tall vase bursting with blooms. She buried her nose in the center of a peach rose and inhaled. The spinning in her head stopped.

Feeling stronger, she went upstairs to her room. Some of her earliest memories were in this two-story house. Sofa forts and pillow fights with Elijah. Being snuggled against her father’s side, watching movies.

But nothing of her mother. In fact, no photographs were scattered throughout the house. As far as she knew only one object belonging to her mother remained in her life—the lamp in Magda’s bedroom. It was created by Angela Brunelli’s own hands—a mash-up of glass and intricate ironwork, curlicues of patterns that branched from a main trunk like a tree of life. Fluted glass shades dripped from it.

Magda pushed open the door to her room and reached for the chain dangling from the floor lamp. A small tug illuminated the rumpled, clothing-strewn space. Her nausea vanished, and she drew a deep breath of relief.

Gripping the hem of her dress, she slipped it overhead, then tossed it to the chair in the corner. Her breasts bounced free, only a handful each, and therefore she hadn’t bothered with a bra tonight.

Her skin pebbled at the kiss of air. Monroe’s scent still lingered on her—leather and musk. The lace covering her pussy was still wet with want for him.

Without hesitation she stripped off her panties and stepped out of them. In two strides, she was at her bedside. She tumbled onto the down coverlet, her fingers already thrust between her thighs.

Her clit throbbed as she slicked her juices over her folds. She used her other hand to part her bare lips and threw back her head, circling her nubbin. The nerves danced with sensation. Heat bloomed in her core, and cream soaked her fingers.

Monroe’s kisses still lay on her tongue, velvety decadence she couldn’t get enough of.

She plunged two fingers into her soaking channel and pressed her clit harder. The burning need built and swelled. She imagined his hands on her, his mouth on her. If he’d tried to do this in the SUV, she would have parted her thighs in invitation.

Dark lust pummeled her. Her breath quickened. When her pussy gave a hard contraction, she muffled her cry by biting her lip. The sharp nip only escalated her desire. Waves rushed her, and she stiffened, her clit straining under her fingers, her inner walls clamped around her other hand.

Wildly, she fingered her pussy as her release stretched on and on. She bit her lip harder to the memory of Monroe’s teeth. Her hair fell over her face, and she caught more of his scent.

Lost in the throes of ecstasy for long moments, she drifted. When she slowed her caresses, her sex squeezed a final time. Juices wet her inner thighs.

She pulled her fingers free of her body, gliding them over her ultrasensitive folds to her bare mound, leaving a trail of wetness up her belly. She stuck her fingers into her mouth and sucked. Would Monroe ever taste her?

Plucking at her nipple, she licked her fingers clean. Sleep was far from her, though her body was relaxed. Out there in the night she felt the grip of Monroe’s mind. He might have dropped her off with the intention to never see her again, but people didn’t just casually share kisses as heated as theirs.

Trouble was, he wasn’t a person.

* * * *

What the hell was he going to do? He couldn’t get her out of his head.

Monroe slammed his mind into the lock of his front door and burst into his repair shop. The bottom floor of this building he owned held a shop where humans could drop off small appliances and watches and electronic gadgets to be fixed. Very few humans used his services, but those who did were never disappointed in his work.

The room fairly buzzed with numbers. Everything in the world was composed of a series of numbers that his mind could organize and control. Needless to say, he was good at repairs.

The MP3 player on the long glass counter screamed 7895 at him. An older lady’s microwave had gotten its numbers out of order and therefore only required a flick of his mind to be fixed.

But not now.

Monroe delved into the dark space, his boots scuffing the wooden floorboards as he made his way to the curving back stairs that led to his second-floor apartment. Magda’s taste was on his lips…inside him. Fuck, why hadn’t he grasped her wrists and locked them over her head, pushed aside her panties, and driven into her while she thrashed on his lap earlier?

Because he couldn’t defile her with a Mindchanger’s hands, a Mindchanger’s body.

He raked his fingers through his hair and mounted the top step. The lock on his apartment was more complex than most, designed to keep lesser Mindchangers from breaching this space. Just like humans, Monroe’s race would steal from one another. While he didn’t have anything of value here, he’d found himself a target of Mindchangers once before and refused to let it happen again.