Lucas Page 18

  Kathryn mulled over what he was telling her. “So you’re saying another vampire lord is trying to take some of your territory.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you had some sort of confrontation with him that got bloody.”

  “Not exactly, but close enough. You needn’t worry about Nicholas, by the way. By tomorrow morning, there will be nothing but a fresh scar, a day later, not even that.”

  “You can heal that quickly?” she said in disbelief.

  “Some of us. And some of us need help. A vampire lord rules his people, but he has an obligation to them as well. What is it your Bible says? ‘To whom much has been given, much will be expected?’ I’m certain your priests would be appalled to see it used thusly, but it is never more true than among vampires. We live it every day.”

  “How does it work? The healing, I mean.”

  “We don’t know the science. We don’t want to know. And we certainly don’t want humans to know. They’d be chasing after us with those pitchforks again, but this time for our blood.”

  Kathryn stared at him, nearly face to face. They were lying so close. Naked skin to naked skin, their bodies fitted together perfectly, as if they’d been made for this one moment. He gave her a crooked smile, and she felt her heart swell.

  Oh, no, she bemoaned silently. Not Lucas Donlon. What the hell was wrong with her?

  “Kathryn, a cuisle, it is nearly dawn.”

  She blinked at him blankly before it hit her. Vampire. Oh. My. God.

  “What happens?” she asked with some urgency. “Where do you have to go? Do you have a special—”

  “Coffin?” he supplied dryly.

  “No, of course not,” she snapped. “But maybe a basement or something?”

  “I’m touched, a cuisle, but no. I do like my comforts, and this bed is perfectly fine. However, there are security precautions. Steel shutters will cover every window and door moments before sunrise. These walls, as you may already have surmised, look flimsy, but are, in fact, rather severely reinforced.”

  “What will you—”

  “I will sleep. I have little choice in the matter.”

  “I should go, then,” she said hesitantly. She didn’t want to offend him, but now more than ever, Kathryn felt the need to get out of town, to flee to the TwinCities or anywhere else, as long as it took her far away from Lucas Donlon. He was a temptation, a complication, that she couldn’t afford. She had a job back in Quantico. A job she had fought and clawed her way into. She tried to imagine what her superiors would say if she became involved with a vampire lord. Most of the people at the FBI viewed vampires as criminals, and that was just the regular run-of-the-mill vampires. Vampire lords were viewed with far less favor, if that was possible.

  “I need to go,” she said more urgently.

  Lucas gave her a puzzled look, as if aware of the turmoil inside her head and not understanding the cause of it. That look tugged painfully on her heart and made her want to cry. Another thing she hadn’t done in years.

  “Kathryn?” he said, with obvious concern. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She shook her head, as if that could brush away her feelings. “Of course. But I really do have to leave. I have things to do tomorrow, or rather later today, and I don’t want to compromise your security.”

  She forced herself to push away from the embrace of his powerful body, from the warmth in his golden eyes. She leaned down for one final kiss, then jumped up and headed for the bathroom before he could see the tears filling her eyes.

  Lucas let Kathryn go as she hurried away. He wasn’t as sensitive to emotions as his friend Duncan, but even he could tell that there was some sort of battle going on inside Kathryn’s excellent brain. Guilt, maybe? She’d probably broken some FBI rule or other about sleeping with witnesses. Although he wasn’t technically a witness, since he hadn’t seen anything. Or maybe she was feeling guilty about enjoying herself instead of spending every moment searching for her brother. Given what he knew about their relationship, that seemed likely. He could even understand it if she felt that way.

  He flexed his abdominal muscles and sat straight up in bed before swinging his legs over the side. He wasn’t the kind of man who lay in bed while his lover dragged her clothes on and scurried out the door. Kicking the ruined leather pants to one side, he pulled a pair of fresh sweats out of his closet and slipped them on, along with a matching gray T-shirt. He strolled out to the living room and located Kathryn’s clothing for her—her dress, shoes, jacket. . . even those ridiculous leggings she’d donned to protect herself against unwanted attention at the blood house. As if a pair of pants would deter any vampire worth his salt.

  Walking back into the bedroom, he shook out the articles of clothing and laid them on the bed in a neat pile, then searched around the bed until he found the tiny black thong she’d been wearing. He was tempted to keep that as a memento, but decided not to tease her, and laid it on top of the dress next to her sensible white bra. He took a moment to imagine Kathryn’s beautiful breasts encased in silk and lace instead of ordinary cotton, her dusky rose nipples visible as they rose up hard and pressed against the sheer silk.

  The bathroom door opened to reveal a naked Kathryn, and his cock sprang instantly to attention. Lucas caught her around the waist as she hurried past, pulling her against his body. He dipped his fingers between her legs and found her still hot and wet from their lovemaking.

  “Are you absolutely certain you have to go?” he whispered against her ear.

  Kathryn closed her eyes, leaned her head against his shoulder, and expelled a long sighing breath. “I wish I didn’t,” she murmured, her husky voice breathless with desire. “But I have to get up early in the morning. I have things to do.”

  Lucas kissed the side of her neck and released her, but not before slipping one finger into her wetness and bringing it to his lips for a taste.

  Kathryn’s eyes flared she watched him taste the cream coating his fingers. “Delicious, a cuisle.”

  “Not fair,” she breathed.

  “I don’t play fair,” he said. “Remember that, Kathryn.”

  Lucas watched as she dressed, taking pleasure in the heat of embarrassment that colored her cheeks. He helped her on with her jacket, then walked her outside and gave her a lingering kiss good-bye, a promise of things to come. He waited until she was safely in her vehicle and away before entering the security code to initiate the daylight safety measures. The steel shutters he’d mentioned to Kathryn deployed instantly, sliding down in near silence over every door, window, and vent, until the exterior walls were a solid steel surface and nearly impregnable. Nearly, because anything was possible. Only death was 100 percent safe.

  Lucas felt the hot sun peeking over the horizon as he stripped away his sweats and fell into the bed. He lifted the sheets and smelled Kathryn, not her perfume—she didn’t wear any—but her arousal, the scent of their lovemaking. His cock hardened at the reminder, and he stroked it absently, thinking of all the things he had yet to enjoy with his luscious FBI agent.

  He was still smiling when sleep took him, and he dreamed.

  * * * *

  1791, Kildare County, Ireland

  Lucas crouched small and silent in the great hall of his grandfather’s castle. Or so his mother told him. He’d never known before today that he had a grandfather, much less one with a castle. But it was certainly grand. As big as the cathedral in town where he and his mother lived, bigger even when one added in outbuildings and stables.

  He’d wanted to linger in those stables. There’d been horses there, great, beautiful beasts like the ones ridden by the lords and merchants in town. He’d entertained the fancy that he might be permitted to ride one, this being his own grandfather’s estate and all. But his mother had snatched him away, and the man she called Father had quickly dashed any hope Lucas had of getting near the animals. The giant of an old man had barely acknowledged Lucas’s existence, and certainly not as a blood relation. He
’d taken one look at Lucas standing there holding his mother’s hand, then spit to one side and walked away.

  Which was how Lucas came to be hiding behind a chair, spying on his mother and the stern-looking old woman facing her across the hearth. He peered out from behind a fur throw that smelled of dog. Probably the giant wolfhounds he’d seen roaming his grandfather’s castle, the ones the old man gave far more affection and attention than his grandson.

  Lucas was only six, and he didn’t understand much of what old people did, but he knew what it meant to be spat upon. And it wasn’t a good thing. Especially not from one’s own grandfather.

  But the old man wasn’t here now. Only the woman his mother had told him was his grandmother—another revelation. Lucas hadn’t known he had family other than his mother before today, and suddenly he had grandparents, and probably more. Some of his friends had grandparents, and they had cousins and all sorts of relations to go with them.

  “You look a fright, Brighid.”

  His grandmother’s voice drew him back to the drafty room, his narrow chest swelling with outrage at her words. His mother was beautiful! He’d heard some of the men in town, and even the women, comment on her beauty, though he didn’t need anyone to tell him what his own eyes could see. On the verge of jumping up to defend his mother’s honor, he abruptly sank back down, remembering that he was spying on the women. They would only send him away if he was discovered, and he had a feeling important things were being said, things he needed to hear. There had to be a reason his mother had brought them so far to this grand castle. She’d told him this was home, but it didn’t feel like home. The only home he knew was the single room they shared back in the city.

  “Forgive me, Mother,” Lucas’s mother was saying, her usually gentle voice hard with some emotion he didn’t understand. “It is difficult to maintain a proper wardrobe when one barely has enough food to eat.”

  “There is no need to be coarse, Brighid.”

  “Oh, no. By all means, let us not be coarse.”

  “Bitterness does not become you, child.”

  Lucas’s mother laughed. “What do I have to be bitter about? That my own father disowned me? That he left me and my child to starve on the streets?”

  “It is your own sins that brought you to this. And you are not starving in any case. A bit thin perhaps, but the boy looks healthy enough.”

  “Lucas is perfect,” his mother said fiercely, and Lucas swelled with pride.

  The old woman only lifted her lip, as if she’d tasted an ale that had gone sour. “Your father would take you back. Make a good marriage for you, despite your . . . unfortunate situation. There are men who would not mind a young, strong woman. Men who would be willing to overlook your earlier indiscretion.”

  “Indiscretion? I was raped, Mother.”

  “Lord Danford staunchly denies your hysterical accusation. Why would he have bothered with a silly girl like you? His lovely lady wife had already given him two strong sons, and she has given him another plus a daughter since then. You do your father little honor with these fantastic tales. Danford is a loyal friend and supporter of your father, one of his most valued associates.”

  “Obviously an associate of far greater value than his only child . . . or his grandson.”

  “That bastard child is not your father’s grandson.”

  Lucas’s mother stood abruptly, her hands clenching in her skirt the way they did when she was upset. “I know not why I came here,” she said. “Or why I thought anything would have changed.”

  The old woman looked up at his mother, unperturbed by her distress. “You should consider your father’s offer. Lord Jamie is looking for a new wife now that poor Deirdre passed so suddenly.”

  “Suddenly?” his mother scoffed. “She was thirty years his junior when they married! The poor woman probably welcomed death after being chained to that vicious old man for so long. How many babes did he force on her? Ten, twelve? Which birth finally killed her, Mother?”

  “Really, Brighid. Your time away has made you most uncouth. You must school yourself if you hope to reclaim your father’s good will.”

  His mother made a noise like a laugh, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “His good will? Why? So he can bury me along with poor Deirdre? And what of Lucas?”

  “You would have to get rid of the boy, of course. There are men, I’m told, who will take on unwanted children as laborers. It is a productive life. The best such a child can expect.”

  “My son is not unwanted. Farewell, Mother. Lucas!”

  He jumped up, eyes wide as he realized she’d known all along he was there.

  “Come, sweetling,” she said softly, holding out her hand. “We are leaving.”

  Chapter Ten

  South Dakota, present day

  Kathryn cursed as she drove away into the pale, predawn light. It had been a huge mistake to sleep with Lucas Donlon. She never dated men she was seriously attracted to. Sure, she liked good-looking men, intelligent men, but the ones she dated were looking for the same thing she was—a casual hook-up, scratching an itch, maybe a few pleasant dinners together. After all, men did it all the time, so why couldn’t she do the same? Her brother said she was avoiding commitment, that after a lifetime of raising him, she had no desire to raise anyone else, including a husband, or even a boyfriend. She’d always denied it, not because it wasn’t true, but because she’d never wanted him to think he’d been a burden, that she’d ever regretted even one day of his life.

  But in the privacy of her own heart, she knew he was right. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, had no desire to find the perfect man to settle down with. So, why in God’s name had she weakened enough to spend any time at all with Lucas, much less to have sex with him? Did she love him? Hell, no. It was far too early to think that. But she hungered for him in a way she never had anyone else. She’d just left, and already she could think of nothing but the next time she’d see him. Her body was already so sensitized to his touch that the mere thought of him had her breasts plumping in anticipation, her thighs squeezing together against a need so strong she knew she could climax if she moved . . . precisely . . . the . . . right . . . way. She shuddered as a mini-orgasm trembled through her body.

  This was ridiculous. Awful. A complete disaster. She had to get away from Lucas Donlon, as far and as fast as possible. Thank God she was finished with her investigation in this town. She had only to figure out something to do with her brother’s equipment, and she could be gone. She certainly wouldn’t be leaving Dan’s cameras and stuff at Lucas’s ranch, though she knew it would be safer there than anywhere else. Unfortunately, the ranch was probably the least safe place in the world for her right now. Or ever.

  She could ship the stuff home. No, even better, ship it to her office. A quick email to warn them it was coming, and they’d make sure it was held until she got back from vacation. Vacation. What a laugh. More like a nightmare. Her brother was still missing, and she was wasting time screwing a good-looking vampire. She shook her head. Good-looking didn’t come close to describing Lucas Donlon.

  Focus, Kathryn! Right, the equipment. Okay, so she was shipping it. But that meant boxing it up securely. Dan’s cameras weren’t the kind of thing you could simply toss into a FedEx box with some Styrofoam peanuts. She frowned. Had she even seen a FedEx place in town? She needed one of those big ones that did packaging as well as shipping, and she couldn’t remember seeing one locally. Which meant she’d have to travel to the nearby big city, “big” being a relative term. But that would take time, and she needed to be gone before it got so late that she could, in any way, rationalize waiting for sunset. Because her body was already bombarding her brain with images of a naked Lucas between her thighs . . . on top of her, beneath her, inside her . . . Oh God, she needed to put some miles on the road and fast. No airport. There weren’t enough flights, and waiting for a plane meant more delays, more time for her body to win the fight against her brain.

  Her GPS di
nged, warning her that the main highway was up ahead. At last! She turned off the primitive dirt road and onto the pavement. The rising sun set fire to her rearview mirror, and she squinted, nearly blinded by the reflection before shoving it aside and pressing the gas pedal as far down as it would go. She could probably talk her way out of a speeding ticket. The sheriff knew who she was after all, and . . .

  That was it! Her brains must be more scrambled than she’d thought if it had taken her this long to consider the obvious. She could leave Dan’s camera equipment with the sheriff. He’d hold it for her as a professional courtesy, if nothing else.

  This was why she avoided emotional entanglements. They made her stupid.

  Two hours later, the tiny town was behind her as she raced toward Minneapolis. Sheriff Sutcliffe had been more than happy to help her out, had even volunteered to arrange appropriate packing and shipping if she needed it. Kathryn had declined, not sure if she wanted to go that far yet. It would all depend on where her brother was—and what kind of shape he was in when she found him. Because now, more than ever, she was convinced he was alive and that Alex Carmichael had him. What was it Lucas had said? If a vampire met a human he fancied, he took the human home for a while to play with, to taste.

  And what could be more intriguing for a vampire like Alex Carmichael, someone who bought and sold beautiful art for a living, than a few weeks with a man whose work he admired? Her brother was alive. She simply had to find him and Carmichael before the novelty wore off.

  * * * *

  Lucas opened his eyes, feeling troubled and not at all refreshed from his day’s sleep. He rarely woke this way, but then he rarely dreamed anymore. And never of the only time he’d visited Castle Donlon as a child. That visit had marked the end of his innocence. Everything fell apart after that, although as an adult he understood that things had been getting worse for some time before then. His mother had lost her seamstress position, which had been the thin thread between them and starvation. Desperation had driven her back to Kildare, to sacrifice her pride in hopes of getting help from her father before it was too late.