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Relentless_A Cyn and Raphael Novella Page 3


  Raphael’s lips touched her forehead. “It’s time to sleep, my Cyn.”

  She kissed his chest over his heart in acknowledgment. It was different when they were on a plane. The sun didn’t rise so much as it was suddenly just there. Raphael was powerful enough to remain awake longer than the others, but he was still bound by the demands of his vampire blood. “See you tonight, fang boy.”

  But he was already asleep.

  Chapter Three

  Santa Monica, CA

  CYN BRUSHED HER teeth and washed her face, running wet hands through her dark hair. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep, and what she really wanted was a hot shower. But she’d wait until they got home to Malibu, where she could use their super-sized shower enclosure with surround-sound jets and as much hot water as she wanted. And maybe she’d tease Raphael into joining her. He was hurting from the deaths of his vampires. He needed extra care right now.

  She checked the time on her cell phone, though she hardly needed it. Maybe it was her regular intake of Raphael’s blood, or just hanging around vamps, but she’d swear her sense of sunrise and sunset was as acute as any vampire’s. And that sense was telling her the sun would be down within minutes. Making sure the door to the sleeping section was closed, she lifted a window shade in the small sitting area that did double duty as an office. The jet was parked inside a hangar, but you never knew when a door or window might be open to the outside. One could never be careful enough.

  It was twilight dark inside the hangar, but it was always that way. The only change would be if they opened the doors to move the plane. That wouldn’t be happening tonight, however. She spotted Steve Sipes conferring with two of his people. There were definitely more daylight guards than usual posted around the hangar.

  Snapping the shade back down, she opened the door to the bedroom and stepped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dark before stripping off her t-shirt and panties, and sliding into bed next to Raphael. She cuddled up next to him, one leg thrown over his thighs, an arm over his chest, and her head on his shoulder. She didn’t care that he couldn’t respond physically. He knew when she was there, and that’s what mattered. And the first thing he always did upon waking was to wrap her in his powerful arms and hold her close.

  She exhaled slowly as she settled in, feeling the stress and exhaustion of the long day drain away. She’d barely slept, too aware of how vulnerable Raphael and the others were, too mindful that someone was out there killing vampires. She’d paced the jet from one end to the other, listening to every creak and groan, exquisitely aware that she was the only person on board who was awake, the only person who could respond to an attack. And when she wasn’t pacing, she was obsessively checking the exterior camera feed on her computer, watching Sipes’s team move around the hangar in regular rotation, tensing every time the exterior door opened to admit a patch of sunlight.

  But the day was finally over, and any minute now—

  Raphael woke with a growl, his arms coming around her and rolling her under his powerful body. His mouth went immediately to her neck, his tongue rasping over her skin once, before his fangs sank into her vein. Searing pleasure shrieked over Cyn’s nerves, as the euphoric in his bite flooded her bloodstream. She cried out helplessly as every muscle in her body seemed to contract at the same time, desire drowning out every thought, every instinct. Cyn spread her legs around him, flexing her hips upward, as her soaking wet pussy demanded to be filled. Raphael’s mouth was hot on her neck, his lips closing as she felt his fangs pull blood from her vein, filling his mouth and throat, giving him what he needed to survive, to fight, and to triumph.

  But it was more than that. Cyn knew him. This was about more than food, more than sex. This was possession. Raphael had lost people he loved, his vampire children. It was a nightmare for this powerful vampire who was her lover, who controlled absolutely every aspect of his life, and the lives of those who depended on him. His vampires had died. He’d survived. But there was one life he couldn’t lose, one death he wouldn’t survive. He’d woken from a nightmare of loss and needed to prove to himself that she still lived. And that she knew she was his.

  His cock slammed into her, a long, powerful thrust that filled her completely. Her pussy was slick with arousal, but her channel was tight, stretching around him as pain burned along the delicate tissues. Cyn cried out, but she didn’t try to stop him. He needed this. And pain soon became pleasure as he pulled his cock back and then shoved it in again, waking nerves all along her sheath, stimulating those tiny muscles to caress and grasp at his cock, stroking him to climax, urging his thick shaft to probe deeper, to release himself into her body.

  Raphael’s mouth moved on her neck, his fangs digging deeper, as a snarl rumbled up from his throat and rolled over her skin. He seemed to swell inside of her, his groin grinding against her clitoris with every thrust. Cyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her thighs gripping his hips, as a second orgasm threatened. Her pussy clenched, squeezing Raphael’s cock, as her clit pulsed with need, the sensation skating over her abdomen to caress her breasts like an electric wave, hardening her nipples where they were crushed against Raphael’s chest.

  Cyn cried out as the climax stormed through her body, her cries drowned out by Raphael’s roar of possession when he gave a final hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside her as the heat of his release filled her completely.

  They clung to each other, breaths rasping in and out, chests crushed together as their hearts pounded in rhythm. Raphael lifted his head first, licking the wounds on her neck, sealing the tear and speeding the healing. Cyn knew she’d have the mother of all hickeys after Raphael’s passionate bite, but that, too, would be gone by morning.

  “I love you.” Raphael’s midnight voice surrounded her, his arms tight, his lips brushing her hair. “Never forget that.”

  “Oh, baby,” she murmured, stroking her hands over the taut muscles of his back. “I love you, too. You’re stuck with me forever.”

  He looked down at her, his eyes sparking silver stars in the dark room. “Did I hurt you?”

  She kissed him, rubbing her mouth over his deceptively soft lips, as she whispered, “Never. I love the way you fuck, Raphael.”

  He smiled slightly. “We’re on the jet.”

  She smiled back at him, aware of just how much he hated sleeping on the plane. “I know.”

  He kissed her again. “Let’s get the hell out of here and get back to Malibu.”

  She nodded. “We need to figure out who’s behind these attacks.”

  “And kill them.”

  “And kill them,” she agreed.

  Malibu, CA

  THE NARROW ROAD was pitch black as Raphael’s motorcade of SUVs turned off Pacific Coast Highway and headed through the grove of Eucalyptus to the estate gates. There was nothing to identify the road or the gates to human eyes, just the sudden appearance of heavily armed guards surrounding the vehicles, their eyes flashing red in the darkness.

  The gates slid open almost at once. There was no need for the guards to inspect the vehicles or question the passengers. They felt the presence of their vampire lord and rejoiced in his return. Raphael reached out to every one of his vampires, bathing their souls with calm, even as they remained alert and ready to defend the estate. He wasn’t the only one who’d felt the agony of his vampires’ deaths or the attacks on the others. Every vampire on the estate—hell, every human as well—had been threatened by the murders. The killers had done their job well.

  But they would regret ever taking him on. It was their turn to die, their turn to feel the agony of losing someone they loved.

  Cyn’s hand slid into his, her slender fingers closing over his much larger ones.

  “What’s the plan?” she murmured.

  He shrugged. “We’ll meet for a situation report and then decide on our next steps.�
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  “Well, duh. Do we know anything more?”

  “That’s the purpose of the meeting, Cyn.”

  “Testy.” She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. His Cyn presented a hard image to the world. She’d been wounded early in life by those who should have cared for her and had learned not to trust. But when she loved, she did it with all her heart and every ounce of energy.

  He tilted his head to hers. “Elke’s at the house. We’re hoping either she or Mal can give us some hint as to their attacker. Zoya’s companion was interviewed by one of Juro’s team, and we have the reports from the blood house. But the boy didn’t see anything—whoever shot Zoya did so from behind, and, as I said already, the blood house witnesses were simply too far away to get much detail. Elke might be our best witness.”

  “Or Mal,” Cyn commented. “You’re thinking Elke because she’s a vampire, but Mal’s a homicide cop, a trained observer. And from what we know, he saw the shooter first.”

  Raphael nodded as they pulled up in front of the main house and the SUV doors opened. His guards deployed from the other vehicles, but, in this instance, it wasn’t necessary. Even under ordinary operating conditions, the estate was secure. With the place locked down and everyone on alert, it was a fortress.

  Elke met them just inside the front doors. She gave Cyn a fleeting smile, but her attention was all for Raphael, her pale eyes seeking him out, seeking reassurance. In a rare act of affection, Raphael pulled her into a brief embrace, his hand on the back of her neck.

  “Sire,” she whispered.

  “Elke.” His mouth was close to her ear. “Are you recovered?”

  She looked up and nodded. “It was only a graze, and I’ve had plenty of blood. Mal’s injury was worse than mine.”

  Raphael met her eyes. “You gave him your blood?”

  She grimaced. “He wouldn’t let me because I was shot, too. But Rigo, Peter Saephan’s mate, happened to be around, and he offered. Mal’s pretty much back to 100%.”

  Raphael was still surprised sometimes at the idea of having a former homicide detective as part of his security team. But love conquered all, it seemed.

  “I’ll want your input on this assassin.”

  “Of course, Sire.”

  RAPHAEL TURNED to confer with two of Juro’s team, while Cyn pulled Elke into a full body hug. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Elke hugged her back briefly, then squirmed away. “Just ‘cuz I was shot doesn’t mean you get to go all girly on me.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cyn said, grinning “It was a fleeting impulse. So, Mal’s good, too?”

  “Oh, yeah. You know, the magical mystery of vampire blood.”

  “And thank God for that.” Cyn glanced up to see Raphael standing on the second stair, giving her an impatient look. “Gotta go. The lord and master calls.”

  “Keeping you close, huh?” Elke muttered for her ears only.

  “The opposite. I’m keeping him close. These killers seem more interested in killing vampires than humans.”

  “Huh. You’re right. Maybe you can be my bodyguard for a change.”

  They’d drawn close enough for Raphael to catch Elke’s joking statement, but the look he gave Cyn made it very clear . . . he was not amused. He reached out and snagged Cyn’s hand, pulling her up next to him as he started climbing the stairs.

  “You are no one’s bodyguard,” he growled.

  “Except yours,” she said calmly. His growl deepened, but he didn’t deny it.

  He didn’t say anything more until they reached his office on the second floor, and not even then, until the doors were closed behind them, leaving only Raphael, Juro, and Cyn herself in the room.

  Juro gave Raphael a meaningful look, then handed him a one-page document.

  “What’s up?” she asked, reading over Raphael’s shoulder.

  “It’s a warning from one of my oldest vampires, one of the first to relocate to California after I claimed the territory. He’s provided several useful bits of intel over the years.”

  “Is he reliable?”

  “He’s been nothing but loyal. He’s an artist, although not one you’d have heard of. His works are folk art and sell mostly to tourists.”

  “You’re not painting the picture of a guy who’s positioned to spy on anyone.”

  “No? He lives on the northern coast, almost to the Oregon border. It’s a small town with an active fishing port.”

  “Ah. I’m guessing not every boat that comes to port is carrying fish.”

  Raphael grunted his agreement. “Smuggling is almost a growth industry up there.”

  “And, let me guess, someone was smuggling vampires.”

  “It seems like it. He reported seeing unknown vampires several days in a row. Not many, and never the same ones twice. They kept to themselves, but my informant made a point of being close enough to pick up at least part of their conversations.”

  “And?”

  “And my name came up more than once. But it wasn’t what they said so much as the language they used.”

  She met his eyes in understanding. “French.”

  He nodded. “How do you feel about Paris?”

  She blinked in confusion. “We’re going to Paris? Is that wise, given—?”

  “Not the city. A Parisian-themed fundraiser.”

  “Fundraiser,” she repeated dryly. “And I say again, is that wise—?”

  “Think of it as reconnaissance, surveilling one’s enemies.”

  “Is there some reason you have to be there personally? Because I know for a fact that Juro has a team of highly skilled spies who do this for a living.”

  “But this is a very exclusive fundraiser, lubimaya. Invitation only, and no surrogates.”

  “Oh. That one. I was invited, too, you know. It’s not only you.”

  He laughed. “Then I’ll be your date, instead. But we are going. Unless you’d rather stay home alone?”

  “In your dreams, fang boy. Someone’s got to cover your pretty ass.”

  Chapter Four

  CYN STUDIED THE ten-foot tall ice sculpture of the Eiffel Tower, with lights in the blue, white, and red of the French tri-colored flag coloring the ice. Winter in Paris. Not exactly an original theme. Maybe the fundraising committee figured Paris tied in to the artwork being offered in silent auction.

  “Hello, Cynthia.” She spun at the familiar voice.

  “Good evening, Grandmother.” She leaned in and brushed her grandmother’s cheek, felt her grandmother’s hand lifting to barely touch her shoulder. The Leightons weren’t a demonstrative people. Hell, if she’d been greeting her father, there wouldn’t even have been that much.

  After the acceptable few seconds of touch, her grandmother straightened, her eyes doing a quick scan of Cyn’s dark blue velvet evening gown. It was a fairly simple design, strapless, with a draped bodice that clung to her breasts, before flowing into a floor-length skirt. A necklace of diamonds and sapphires, one of Raphael’s many gifts, adorned her neck, and she wore matching drop earrings.

  “You look especially lovely this evening,” her grandmother said, stroking light fingers along her jaw.

  “Thank you,” Cyn managed to say, stunned nearly speechless by the unexpected touch. “And you look as beautiful as ever. I hope those genes run in the family.”

  Adela Leighton smiled slightly. Cyn did, in fact, take her looks from Adela’s side of the family, but it didn’t matter. They both knew that Cyn didn’t need to worry about aging, not with a vampire lover.

  “I hear Lucia is engaged,” her grandmother said. Lucia was Cyn’s best friend and very active on the fundraising circuit. So was Adela, which meant the two women saw each other far more often than they did Cyn. In fact, Cyn was sure that Adela wi
shed Cyn was more like Lucia. Lucia also happened to be engaged to Juro, the huge vampire who was Raphael’s security chief. Cyn wondered if Adela knew who and what Juro was, but, if not, she wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

  Cyn just smiled. “She is. Juro’s a good man, and a dangerous one. He takes very good care of Luci.”

  “And is your dangerous man taking good care of you?”

  Again, Cyn had to force her brain to come up with words. She couldn’t remember her grandmother ever asking whether Raphael, or anyone else, was taking care of Cyn. Granted, her grandmother had been the only person in her childhood who’d evinced any level of care for her. But this was like the pod people version of Gramma. The lonely little girl inside her, the one who’d spent far too many holidays alone, welcomed the concern. But the grown woman couldn’t help wondering what the hell was going on.

  “Cyn and I take care of each other,” a deep voice said.

  Adela’s gaze went over Cyn’s shoulder a moment before Raphael’s hand grazed the skin of her back, laid bare by the design of her dress.

  “Adela,” he said.

  She nodded, then shifted her gaze to Cyn once again. “You should come by the house soon. There are some pieces of jewelry I want you to have.”

  Cyn blinked. “Of course. I’ll call next week.”

  Her grandmother glanced away when someone called her name. “Well, I must circulate, I’m afraid. Do be sure and call, Cynthia.”

  And then she was gone, making her way through the crowded room with the grace of long experience, saying a word here, touching an arm there. She stopped to exchange a few words with Lucia who turned with a smile and leaned in to exchange air kisses. Adela Leighton was the perfect society matron in an elegant chiffon gown of muted emerald that brought out the green of her eyes. The same green eyes she’d passed on to her only grandchild.