He liked Ava’s voice. Smooth, as deceptively sweet as her face. A face that was slightly rounded, with big brown eyes, an up-tilted nose, and heart-shaped lips. A face better suited for angelic paintings, and yet midnight fantasies were what claimed his mind every time he looked at her. And framing all that sweetness was an even sweeter tumble of amber curls. Curls made for fisting, tugging, pinning so that she would be forced to take the hottest flames of his kiss.
Only thing that wasn’t sweet about her—besides her demeanor—was her body.
What she lacked in height, she made up for in curves. She had breasts that strained the white tank top she wore, a waist that flared beneath a dangerously short skirt, and sun-kissed legs encased in calf-high boots.
“Moment he comes out of stun,” Noelle huffed, “I’m breaking up with him.”
“So I don’t get to sing about Noelle and McKell sitting in a tree?”
“Shut up. Anyway, I can’t be with a man who can’t find a way out of stun to help me carry him. It’s discourteous, you know? And selfish.”
Her babbling made no sense. What an odd woman.
“I agree,” Ava said.
She understood that nonsense? Just you wait, he thought darkly.
When the females pulled him out of the line of trees and into a clearing, he froze them in place with only a thought. Their minds, their bodies. They were stunned, like him, only they had no idea what happened around them.
Inside, he grinned. Everyone assumed he could stop time, and they were right. He could stop the clock for several minutes at a time. But that wasn’t all he could do. He could also stop the people around him while time passed without their knowledge. And that’s exactly what he did now.
He held his captors in place for one hour … two. He should have grown bored, simply staring ahead as he was, but too much relish filled him. Oh, yes, these females would learn. He knew this area, knew the forest itself was gated to keep humans out, and knew no one would stumble upon them.
They were his.
Ava … his … Down boy, he thought with a growl. To think of her in such a possessive way was to undermine his plan for her. And he—
McKell cursed as he noticed a shimmering curtain of air to his right. A doorway. The air had thickened, dust motes glowing in the moonlight, a tangible glitter that somehow looked like welcoming arms. Not again. He’d seen such a doorway every time he’d visited this topside world.
In fact, he’d seen one yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Once and only once had he been tempted to touch. He’d reached out, but that dappled air had sucked at him, pulling him closer against his will, trying to swallow him up. He’d raced backward, warrior instincts saving him—sometimes you fought, sometimes you retreated, always you returned later and killed—and the suction had ceased. But he’d never forgotten the experience, and never wanted a repeat.
How did you fight a split in the ether? Especially when that split might be sentient.
Deep down, he thought he knew where the doorway, or whatever it was, led, what it wanted. The answers? To eternal darkness and his damnation. Why target him, though, he wasn’t sure.
Pay it no heed and it will go away. As always. He released the women from his mental hold.
No longer fettered, Ava and Noelle continued forward, unaware anything had changed and thankfully avoiding the curtain. Though he knew they couldn’t see it. Only he could. Over the years, he’d watched humans, otherworlders, and vampires alike walk through them, as if the air were merely that. Air.
When they had passed the curtain and adjusted to the fading darkness, he froze them in place once again. Another hour, then two, passed quickly for him. Thankfully, another doorway never opened.
Again he released them for only a moment, let them continue with their chat, move forward, adjust, before refreezing them.
Another hour. This one eked by. But finally, he let them go for good.
“Holy shit, my arms are burning,” Ava rasped. “And shaking, too. I feel like I’ve held him for days.”
“Me, too. And damn, the sun’s coming out already. We’re slower than I realized.”
“Damn it. Hurry.”
Obviously exhausted, they hauled him the rest of the way, tripping and cursing, and stashed him inside the waiting vehicle.
“His skin will burn if we leave him like this. Right? Didn’t Mia tell us vampires are sensitive to light?” Ava stood in his open doorway, peering down at him and tapping a blunt-tipped finger against her chin.
Not for a moment did he delude himself into thinking she truly cared about keeping him unharmed.
“So what?” Noelle said.
“So. Mia will be pissed if we bring her damaged goods. Let’s cover him.”
Good thing he hadn’t deluded himself. He would have been feeling supremely disappointed just then. Which he wasn’t. Not even a little.
Damn her. He was a vampire, far superior to a measly human, and he deserved her admiration and consideration.
“Shame to cover up that face, though.” With a sigh, Noelle tossed a blanket over his head. The material draped his bare shoulders and torso, protecting him from the sun’s rapidly strengthening rays. “Happy now?”
“Cranky as the vampire now?”
Muttering curses at each other, they settled into the front of the car. He heard one of them push a series of buttons on the dash. A second later, the air conditioner blasted. Before either female could program the car to return to AIR, however, McKell froze them in place. And this time, he didn’t bother releasing them every few hours to keep them from suspecting he was manipulating them. He simply allowed the hours to pass, the sun rising, heating, ruining what should have been the best part of the day.
Hour after hour after hour passed, washing him in gold, then orange, then a hazy pink. Finally, blessedly, that hated sun began to wane, dulling even the pink light seeping through the fabric of the blanket. By the time darkness once again surrounded him, the stun had worn off, freeing his muscles from immobility.
Vengeance.
Scowling, McKell tossed the blanket aside. A moment ticked by as his gaze accustomed itself to the open space. He saw that Ava and Noelle were in their seats, Noelle’s hand raised to push more buttons, Ava’s deep in a bag, as if she’d been digging through the contents.
What had she been searching for?
He couldn’t lean forward and check as he wanted. Clear, impenetrable shield-armor divided the front and back of the car. That wouldn’t be a problem, but breaking through it would take longer than he was willing to spend. He glanced at the door beside him. No handles.
The car, he knew, would only obey Ava and Noelle’s commands. If they said, “Open,” the door would pop open automatically, since it was programmed to recognize and obey their voices, but he wasn’t about to free either female yet. At the moment, surprise was his best friend. So McKell did the only thing he could—he kicked the door off its hinges and unfolded from the backseat, a move that allowed him to exit just as quickly as if the car had catered to his voice.
Cool night air wafted around him, bringing with it the scents of pine, night birds, and seductive moonlight. He stretched, his abused body protesting every movement, and that intensified his anger.
So angry was he, in fact, that he slashed his claws into Ava’s door with more force than necessary, letting them embed deeply before ripping the offending block out of the way. The metal soared over his shoulder, landing with a heavy thud behind him. Then Ava was in front of him, nothing preventing him from ripping her out, as well.
“I warned you,” he growled at her, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “Easy or hard, and you picked hard.” Rather than slash her to pieces, however, he crouched beside her and grabbed the bag.
Motions still stiff, he rifled through the contents. Different sized blades. A badge that read “Agent in Training.” His eyes widened. In training? She was merely in training? AIR had sent a child after him? God, the insult. Almost enough to send him racing to their base, destroying every brick, every human inside, just to prove that he could.
Don’t lose focus. He could rant about their insolence later.
Teeth grinding, he continued his search of little Ava’s bag. Lastly, he found “butterscotch”-flavored lipgloss. Butterscotch. Not something he was familiar with.
He twisted the cap and sniffed the contents, and his mouth instantly watered. That’s what Ava smelled like. Sugary, warm, and toasted in the sun. All the things he suddenly wanted to be. The desire was foreign, unwelcome, and not to be tolerated. He wasn’t some callow youth, so easily swayed by sexual urges. He’d had countless lovers over the centuries, and knew how fleeting those urges could be. How meaningless. He couldn’t even recall a face or a name of one of the women who had warmed his bed. Cold of him, perhaps, but for a man with his sense of possession, he had always purposefully maintained distance in that area of his life.
He stuffed Ava’s gloss in his pocket—to torment her with its loss, he told himself, and not because he wanted a reminder of her, of her scent, of the hunger she elicited—then tossed the bag and the rest of its contents behind him. Then he focused on Ava.
Her curls fell over her shoulders, shiny and—he pinched several between his fingers—soft as ocher velvet. Moonlight caressed her, turning her flawless skin to liquid gold. He traced the back of his knuckle along the curve of her cheek, far more gently than he’d meant. That, too, was soft. Would be a shame to mar her, he decided, then frowned. She was already marred. There were several scars running the length of her arms, and many crisscrossing her hands.
He lifted each hand, studying. Too many scars for such a young, “in training” agent. Besides, though some of those scars were clearly newer than others, none were pink and fresh. Which meant she’d been fighting most of her obviously short life. McKell wasn’t sure if that disturbed him, aroused him, or amused him.
Scowling again, he slid one arm around her lower back and one under her legs. He carried her a short distance from the car and lay her down, careful, so careful not to jostle. He did the same with Noelle, only he dropped her flat on her ass. Why the difference in treatment, he didn’t know. Didn’t care to ponder. Then he proceeded to rip the vehicle to pieces, just as he’d promised to do to the girls, piling the remains around them, forming a wall. A reminder of their failure with him.
When he finished, he was panting, covered in a sheen of perspiration, his anger somewhat dimmed. Still. He was tracing his tongue over his fangs, some other unnameable emotion humming inside him as he rejoined the humans and removed their clothing. Noelle was first, and he stripped her without pause. Ava, however, he found himself lingering over, every new inch revealing a deeper appreciation of her femininity and his wavering restraint.
White lace bra. Front clasp. Nice. Her breasts were lush, with nipples that were the color of honey-dipped apples. Her belly was flat, with a navel that hollowed perfectly. A tongue could lose itself in that navel. White lace underwear. Ribboned on the sides. Only needed a tug to unlace them … Really nice. Her thighs were firm, the apex guarded by a tiny triangle of amber curls.
When he finished, he realized pure temptation lay before him.
She’s human, he reminded himself. Weak, withering. Food.
Still. He couldn’t leave her naked, he decided. If she were to stumble upon a male, that male would want her. Obviously. That male would probably try to “hit on her,” as the humans said. She would rebuff him. McKell knew this only because the thought of her accepting returned the plumes of rage. And when her tart tongue finished rebuffing, the male would fight her, as pride demanded. The two would roll around on the ground, and the male’s penis might accidentally slip inside her. McKell couldn’t risk it. Not because he cared who the woman slept with, that wasn’t why he raged, he rationalized, but because, again, she didn’t deserve pleasure. Not that she’d find pleasure from her attacker.
His teeth gnashed together. Again, he refused to acknowledge the flaw in his reasoning.
He put Ava’s bra and panties back on her, then reluctantly did the same for her … friend. Enemy. Whatever. That done, he pocketed Ava’s phone and again peered down at the curly-haired witch. Beautiful.
Shove your tongue back into your mouth, and finish what you started. He forced all thoughts of touching and tasting from his mind, and withdrew the gloss he’d stolen from her. Then, he began writing directly on her body.
When he finished, he was actually trembling from the effort to resist doing more to her.
In a few days, when he’d gotten his desires under control, he would find her again, he decided. He’d use her as she had planned to use him. Because, if he liked her scent, connoisseur that he was, other vampires would, too. They would be drawn to her, would want to drink from her. And rather than having to track them down himself, as he’d had to do before AIR had started gunning for him, distracting him, they would come to him.
Now they ran from him, scared of him. But if they were preoccupied with Ava, he would have no trouble grabbing them. Finally he could question them and discover how they lived here. How they survived in that wretched sun.
Yes, he liked this plan.
Ava wouldn’t, though, he thought, and he was grinning as he strode away.
“What the hell?” Ava gasped out. One moment she’d been inside the car, searching for her lipgloss, the sun fighting its way into the sky. She hadn’t moved, only a second had passed, yet now she was outside, the night thick and dark, an almost suffocating cloak.
And holy hell, the car was in shambles around her, claw marks slashing through the metal.
“We’re in our undies!” Noelle squeaked beside her.
