Dark Promise (Underworld)

6



Cassandra was surprised she didn't want to grab Luke’s shoulders and kiss him. Maybe Lilly had been right. Maybe she had been the player.

Snow dusted Luke’s cheeks. Sunglasses hid his beautiful eyes and made him more handsome, alluring.


But all she could think of was long black hair and the smell of cinnamon. She shouldn’t have lied to Eric, telling him she wanted to be alone when she intended to meet Luke.

He’d wanted to talk to her more, but not in a crowded bar with both Diane and Eric watching them.

This wasn’t right. She’d done it again. Toyed with him. “Luke,” she said.

“What?”

“I don’t think this is going to work,” she said.

“You’re not giving us a chance.”

“Luke, you broke my heart.”

“I know. I know.” Luke tapped his poles on his skis. “I was drunk, Cassandra. Pissed off.” He sighed. “I don’t want her. I want you.”

“You were just eating lunch with her.”

“I sat alone so she joined me. I wasn’t going to be rude. Jesus, it was just lunch.”

Lunch my ass.

“I know I shouldn’t have called you the Ice Queen, but when you arrived with that guy…”

“Luke, I’m just not sure I can trust you again.”

“You’re not giving me a chance to make it up to you.”

“I walked into the bedroom and found both of you naked. Diane rode you like she was trying to win the Kentucky Derby.”

“I told you I was drunk. She seduced me. You mean everything to me.”

“You never called me after New Year’s.”

“I was afraid you’d hang up on me.” He shook his head. “I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“I saw how you were looking at that guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“You looked at him like he was an Olympic skier, sweeping you off your skis.”

Lilly was right. She was hurling Luke into a dung heap. How could any man live up to the perfect, sensual man in her dreams? Every night she indulged in a sexual fantasy with a man hotter than the hottest romance cover model.

“Fine. I guess it’s over.”

“Luke, I’m sorry.” She wished their relationship could have been different, but Luke only approached her after he’d seen her with Eric.

“Yeah, whatever.” The chairlift approached the top. “Later Cassandra.”

A lump formed in Cassandra’s throat. If Eric had never skied with her or taken her to lunch, would Luke have approached her?

She got off the chairlift and skied down the mountain, not caring where she was headed. This time she took her time, trying not to think of Eric and Luke and admire the snow packed peaks instead. She swished past skiers and snowboarders until she got to the middle of the mountain and skied toward the Excelerator lift. One more run before she escaped back to the inn. A deep husky laugh caught her attention.

Oh, crap.

Eric was a few feet ahead of her talking to a woman, not just any woman, Diane. Shit, Diane moved on every man she met.

Diane leaned against Eric’s shoulder and laughed.

Cassandra blinked back tears threatening to fall. Where was Eric’s conviction of not cheating on his mates? No, this was her fault. She had pushed him away just like she had Luke. She turned to get out, but the crowded lift line prevented her moving and she didn't want people grumbling, drawing either Eric or Diane’s attention. She’d just ride the damn lift, ski down the mountain and go back to the inn.

Eric and Diane got on the chair lift. Cassandra's stomach tightened as she got on the lift only two chairs behind Eric and Diane. On the lift, Diane sat too close to Eric and leaned her head on his shoulder. Cassandra’s nerves snapped and twanged each time Diane’s flirtatious laughter reached her ears or her hand touched Eric's arm. She wished she could jump off the lift and get away.

Eric and Diane skied to the left. Cassandra flew out of the chairlift and skied to the right as fast as she could, darting past beginners, children and snowboarders. The wind chilled her and chapped her lips. Despite her resolution not to cry, tears stuck to her cheeks. She’d lost two men in one day. Must be a record.

At the top of Main Vein, she finally stopped. The last part of the run was always crowded and she couldn’t go at top speed unless she wanted to run into someone and lose her ski pass. She didn’t want to see Eric and Diane on the other side of her.

She bent her knees to ski down the mountain.

“Cassandra, wait.” Eric skied up to her. Alone.

“Oh, Eric.”

“Are you okay?”

“Um, yes, I’m fine. Why?”

With his gloved hand, he touched her cheek. Her heart somersaulted and warmth rushed low, pooling into a throbbing ache in her chest.

“You’re crying.” He scanned the mountain. “Where’s Kennedy?”

She rubbed her cheeks on her shoulder and half laughed. “Why? He didn’t do anything.”

He scowled. “Then why are you crying?”

Diane pulled up next to Eric. “There you are. I thought I lost you.” She glanced at Cassandra. “Oh, Hi Cassie. Lose something?” Diane’s mission was to seduce or steal any guy Cassandra had. Now, that mission was Eric.

“No.”

Not waiting for Eric’s response, Cassandra darted down the mountain, not caring how fast she went or whether she lost her pass. She wanted to go home. At the bottom of the lift, she undid her bindings and stepped out of her skis.

“Cassandra, will you wait?” Eric held his skis.

“How did you get here so fast? Where’s Diane?”

“I don’t know. I ditched her.”

“You did?”

He lowered his voice. “Why have you been crying?”

Not wanting to fall under his magical spell again, she shrugged, forcing her tears back. “Just a bad day.”

“Are you leaving?”

He sounded disappointed, but she didn’t want to play these games anymore. She wanted off the board. “Yeah, I think I’ve had enough skiing for today.”

He tilted his dark head. “Going back to the Inn?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you give me a lift?”

“What?”

“I’ll buy dinner.”

“Dinner? No, you don’t have to.”

“Come on, Cassandra. I don’t want to take the damn bus back again. We’re going to the same place.”

He was just using her for a ride. Great. She wanted to say no. “All right.”

He smiled. “Good, I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant.”

“Eric, I just want to stay in my hotel and read a good book.”

“No, I insist. Somehow I feel I owe you,” he said. Red glittered in his eyes.

She shook her head. She imagined it. “Fine, but I want to be home early.”

On the shuttle ride back to the parking lot, Eric stood next to her, bumping into her when the bus lurched. Just his slightest touch turned her into a pool of slush.

As they walked to her SUV, he leaned closer. “Is your Pathfinder far?”

Alarm bells rang in her head and she shivered. “How did you know I drove a Pathfinder?”

“You must have mentioned it.”

“No, I didn’t. Okay which one is it?”

“Excuse me? You want me to guess which one is yours?”

“Yes, I do. Or I’m not taking another step.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He scanned the parking lot. “The black one.”

She followed his gaze. Behind her silver Pathfinder, was a black one. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was too damn tired. She hit the keyless remote and the lights flashed on the back of her SUV.

“Ah, so I was wrong,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”


He clasped her arm and turned around. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the shape of his mouth or his deep eyes. He cupped her cheek, his thumb feathering her jaw line, his fingertip traveling up her chin to her lips. “Don’t be.”

Her heart quickened as he bent his dark head. His mouth parted, his lips skimmed hers, titillating all the way down to her toes, and she opened hers. His tongue followed with a warming caress. She revealed in the familiar taste, tender, silky, seductive.

Fire raced through her bloodstream, flaming her desire, despite the chilly air. Her stomach clenched. Sparks ignited and the full meaning of chemistry seized her. There was nothing else, not the cold, not the other skiers, but only his mouth claiming hers, whirling her into another world she had only dreamed about. And he tasted like cinnamon. She was lost and, her wall of doubt crumbled. Her legs wobbled and she reached for a nearby bench. He pulled away. “Let’s get to the damn car.”

Eric gathered their skis and poles and tossed them into the back of the SUV.

Still reeling from the kiss, her hands shaking, not able to ditch the feelings he had awakened in her, she undid her boot buckles and put on her suede boots.

Eric watched her stand. She fumbled for her keys and dropped them in the snow.

He snatched them up. “Would you mind if I drove?”

She didn’t know him. How could she trust he would take her to the Inn? “No, I want to.”

He frowned, but handed her the keys. “As you wish.”

She slipped into the driver’s seat and he got into the passenger side. She grappled with sticking the key into the ignition.

Eric chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“No, I…I…I can do it.” The key slipped into the ignition and the car started. Before she could pull out of the parking space, Eric leaned over, slipping his hand around her neck, pulling her toward him, toward those mesmerizing lips. The tender, teasing stroke of his lips on hers flamed her desire. His tongue explored every inch of her mouth and she indulged in discovering his velvet-soft interior. He swept away her dream, replacing it with reality, demanding she respond to him, taking her response, all hunger and desire. His kiss was better than any kiss she’d had in her dream.

She leaned closer reaching for his shoulders when her elbow hit the steering wheel. A loud honk broke the kiss.

Cassandra jumped. Eric laughed. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You’re so beautiful. So very beautiful.”

“We better get going.” She fumbled to put the gear shift into drive.

He grabbed her hand, spreading warmth through her, and he held her with his determined gaze. “Cassandra, please let me drive. You’re shaking.”

She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t form a single thought. She wasn’t sure she could drive and at least if he drove, she could focus. “All right.”

He smiled, leaning closer again. He kissed her, his tongue pushing open her mouth, devouring her, leaving her breathless. Her mind whirled at the sensations as her body responded, wanting to feel his lips on her neck, sucking and biting her skin. He released her and opened the door. Cassandra sat in the driver’s seat, trying to gather some rational thought. Her door opened and Eric led her to the passenger side. The drive was a blur.

He pulled into the Galena Street Inn parking lot and turned off the ignition. He handed her the keys. “I'll meet you in the lobby at six.”

He got out of the car and got his skis and out of the rear. Cassandra leaned toward the wheel and glanced in the rearview mirror, still clutching the keys in her hand. He nodded at her and headed into the Inn.

Cassandra managed to answer. “Oh, yes, fine,” she said. What just happened? Cassandra cursed again. She wanted to relax in the hot tub, take a hamburger back to her room and finish reading Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Bad Moon Rising. But no. She had not only let Eric talk her into driving him back to the inn, but had agreed to go to dinner with him.

The clock seemed to be ticking faster and faster. She rolled her eyes at her weakness as she brushed her hair. She lost all sense around Eric and was surprised at how upset she’d been when Diane hung all over him. It had hurt worse than it had with Luke. Why was that? She’d known Eric less than a day. Had he uttered a seductive incantation?

Applying the last bit of mascara, Cassandra cursed herself for being so wish-washy. She stepped back. Make-up failed to conceal her raccoon eyes, since she’d forgotten to put sunscreen on her face. Too much drama today. She inspected her clothes, straightening her white pearled sweater. Her faded jeans were worn at the knees and her brown suede snow boots were old. Why had she agreed to go? Face it. Because, if not the genuine thing, he was the closest she'd ever seen to her dream man.

She grabbed her parka and purse and headed out the door. Attraction compelled Cassandra to Eric, but she didn’t trust it. It wasn't real, an illusion. Luke was real, but unlike Eric's kiss, Luke's never swept her into a whirl of sensations.

She strode into the lobby.

Eric stood in front of the fireplace, staring into the roaring fire. The light shone on his long black duster jacket, giving it an eerie, smoky, glow. His hair was pulled back into a loose queue and showed a sparkling diamond stud in his right ear. He was a dark pirate stepping out of the past. A slow smile spread across his face as he flicked his gaze over her. Shivering, she hesitated.

He held out his hand. “You look lovely, Cassandra.”

His smooth voice unsettled her. She forced her legs to move. She lifted her unsteady hand and took his. Eric’s grip emitted strength and power. Warmth spread through her, heating her skin from her fingers down to her toes. Ignoring the sultriness blanketing her body, she pretended to be interested in the quaint paintings as she allowed him to lead her out of the lodge.

They walked a block before Cassandra found her voice. “Where are we going?”

“Boatyard Grill.”

He'd done it again. Read her mind. The Boatyard Grill was her favorite restaurant in Frisco. How did he know these little bits of information about her? Was it a coincidence or something else? Had he been following her on the internet or stalking her back home? He’d be hard to miss. Eric wasn’t the kind of man who could blend in with the masses, not with his striking looks.

The Boatyard Grill was only a few blocks from the Inn, but cold gripped her and too stubborn to move closer to Eric to get warm, she tightened her arms around her waist. His slightest touch flamed her body and she didn’t trust herself.

Eric opened the door for her, and she strolled inside. Warmth at last. She dropped her arms and uncurled her frozen fingers. Her stomach growled as she inhaled the aroma of basil, garlic, sausage and French fries.

The brunette hostess smiled and took a step back when Eric entered the room.

His grim stance and dark presence radiated danger and sexiness at the same time—a deadly combination.

Tossing her hair behind her, the hostess wet her lips. “Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

Cassandra clenched her fist. She itched to ram it into the woman’s angelic face—not something she considered on a regular basis. Squeezing her hand, Eric glanced at her and gave her a secret smile. She jerked away from him. Was she transparent?

“A table for two,” Eric ordered.

Her high heels clicking on the hardwood floors, the hostess led them to a black veneer table, sitting in front of a large six-pane window, looking out onto a quiet alley covered in snow. Eric pulled out an oak chair for Cassandra. His fingers brushed her back, melting the last of the remaining mountain chill.


Eric sat across from her, staring at her. “You have such a light inside you, Cassandra.”

“Light? What do you mean?”

Eric clasped her hand and caressed her. Soft strokes monopolized her.

“Are you listening?” he whispered.

“What? I’m sorry. What did you say?”

He smiled. “I said not everyone possesses this light, but it radiates from you. Pure, simple, clean.”

“You make it sound like I’m a saint.”

He released her hand and cold seized her skin where he had been.

“So you’re not?”

“No!”

A male waiter approached the table. “Good evening, I’m Troy and will be—”

Before the man could finish speaking, Cassandra blurted. “I’d like a Pinot Noir, please.”

“Okay,” the waiter said. “And you, sir?”

Mischief shown in Eric’s eyes and a slow grin appeared on his lips. “A Guinness.”

Cassandra snatched the menu on the table.

Eric chuckled.

The blood drained from her face. Damn the man! His kiss and touch could turn her into molten lava while his teasing infuriated her. Hunger pains demanded Cassandra’s attention. The words on the menu blurred until she spotted what she wanted “What are you going to have?”

Eric put his menu down. “Steak. And you?”

Her taste buds salivated at sinking her teeth into applewood smoked bacon on top of a medium cooked blue cheese burger, but she’d be damned if she told him. “What do you think I’m going to have?”

He leaned back in his chair.

She squirmed under his heated gaze.

The waiter returned with the wine and stout. “Are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have steak. Rare. She wants the bacon and blue cheeseburger, cooked medium rare with French fries.”

“Very well,” the waiter slightly bowed.

“No wait,” Cassandra sputtered. “I changed my mind. I want fish.”

Eric smirked.

She glared.

He reached for his glass and sipped his stout as if she couldn’t see his devious smile.

“Fish?” The waiter lifted his eyebrow. “You want the salmon or the trout?”

“Oh, I want…No, I’ll have the bacon and blue burger with French fries.”

The waiter shook his head and left.

Cassandra held up her hand. “Don’t…How did you know?”

“I know everything there is about you. And no, I’m not a stalker.”

“Then how?”

“We share a mutual friend.”

“We do?”

He lowered his voice. “The Wraith.”

Cassandra’s throat constricted. A dark pit formed in her gut—the burger forgotten. No one knew about the Wraith. Not even Lilly. Not since she made the mistake of telling some kids at her elementary school. She blinked back tears, and forced her face to remain impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re lying.”

She twisted the ring on her finger faster and faster, sending tingles up her arm. “No, I’m not.”

“When you lie, your freckles brighten across your nose.”

She touched her nose. “No, they don’t.”

He laughed. “Yes, they do. You are lying.”

“Eric, I don’t go around seeing wraiths.”

“You deny you see the undead?”

Her childhood flashed in her mind and all the cat calls rang in her ear. She wasn’t walking into the trap of admitting she could see the Wraith or the undead. “Only crazy people see things. I’m not crazy.”

His smile faded and sadness glimmered in his eyes. “People have told you this?”

Cassandra reached for her wine and took a big gulp. She choked and her eyes watered. “No.”

“Ah.” Eric motioned to the waiter. “A bottle of your best Pinot Noir.”

The waiter came with a bottle and showed it to Eric who nodded. Eric swirled the wine in his glass and sipped. “Very good, Troy.”

Troy smiled. “You’re welcome, sir.” He refilled Cassandra’s glass. She twirled the glass stem.

Eric jumped out of his chair, ran to her and rubbed her back. “Are you all right?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her voice slurred. Great! She needed to keep her wits around her, not be falling down drunk and giving into temptation now sitting across from her.

A waiter arrived with their food. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, we’re good,” Eric said as he poured A-1 sauce onto his rare meat.

Cassandra nibbled on a crunchy French fry and took a bite of her black and blue cheeseburger. The combination of juicy meat, blue cheese and applewood bacon melted in her mouth. But at Eric’s triumphant face, she put down the burger and sipped some more wine. Her vision turned fuzzy and her mind clouded. Stay focused.

“You think you’re the only one who sees the supernatural?” he murmured.

“I told you I don’t see anything.” Trying to ignore him, she seized her burger and took a large bite, anxious to get the meal done.

Eric swirled his wine glass. His eyes bore into her. “Wraith.” The simple word was a command.

The warmth around the table vanished. Goosebumps ran up her arm. Uneasiness gripped her. The room grew darker and lights flickered.

Eric smiled. “Good evening, Wraith.”

No, he couldn't see the Wraith. Someone with an icy grip grabbed her shoulder. “Cassandra.”

Choking, Cassandra spat water onto her plate. Tears blurred her vision. The Wraith.

Eric was at her side again, patting her back. He handed her a napkin.

“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

“Cassandra.”

Eric stopped patting her back and returned to his seat.

She slowly turned her head. White bony fingers clutched her. A billowy black robed figure gazed at her with burning red eyes. The hood covered the face. The Wraith leaned closer to Cassandra, and a chilly breeze rushed into her ear. “Come, Cassandra, come. We need you.”

The words and the Wraith faded. Go? Go where? Who needed her? Trembling, Cassandra closed her eyes and put her hand on her thumping heart. Opening her eyes, she took a shaky breath. She never got used to the Wraith’s appearance, but then, who would?

She grabbed the bottle, poured herself another glass. “You see her?”

“Do you?” He sat in his chair, eating steak as if seeing the Wraith was normal. If he had actually seen her, he wouldn’t be cutting his damned meat.

Tears threatened to fall. She wanted Eric to be different, to be like the man in her dreams, accepting her, believing her ability to see the Wraith and the dead.

He cocked his eyebrow. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes. But you’ll excuse me, Eric. I have to go to the restroom.”

He stood as she got up. “Why do you need your jacket?”

“I have something in my jacket I need. It’s personal.”

He narrowed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut tight.

She’d fail to fool him. Stuff it. Stumbling, Cassandra forced her feet to amble. Once inside the restroom behind the bar, she slipped on her jacket, clutched her purse and waited. A heavyset woman exited. Crouching to the side of her, Cassandra used her as a human shield and prayed Eric couldn’t see her. Cassandra flung open the door and ran outside. A fist of cold air hit her in the face. Her head swam from all the wine she’d drank. The anchor of bacon and blue cheese burger and fries weighed heavy in her stomach. She ran in a zigzag line down the street.


Not only did Eric know her deepest secrets, but he had the power to summon the Wraith—How could he do this?

“Cassandra!”

She ran across the street. A car skidded to a halt, tires screaming. She stumbled backward.

A police car was inches from her hitting her. Oh, shit.

“Cassandra!”

His feet barely touching the ground, Eric rushed down the street. He was an avenging angel. She must be totally wasted.

“Miss, are you all right?”

Cassandra turned away from Eric and stared as the tallest police officer she had ever seen got out of the car. His broad shoulders and muscles strained against his uniform. With his dark reddish skin and long, thick, braided hair, he had to be Native American. He had the bluest eyes.

He clutched her arm and steadied her. “Can you walk? You appear to be intoxicated.”

Eric gained ground. She pointed. “That man’s following me. He scares me.”

The officer peered over her head. “You’ve got a right to be scared.”

Eric skidded to them. “Blackstone, what are you doing here?”

Blackstone shrugged. “My town. What are you doing here, Wyvern?”

Eric nodded at Cassandra. “She’s my mate. I’ve come for her.”

“No, no, I’m not,” Cassandra insisted. “Keep him away from me.”

Eric stepped toward her and Blackstone blocked his path. “The little lady doesn’t want to go with you Wyvern.”

“Out of my way, Blackstone,” Eric commanded.

Cassandra pointed at the Galena Mountain Street Inn. “My-my-my hotel’s right over there.”

“Go,” Blackstone said. “Now. While you still can.”

Eric hissed.

“Wyvern, now you need to get out of my town or you and I are going to have a problem. You can’t come and snatch humans when you want to. Got it?”

Eric narrowed his eyes. “You threatening me?”

“I’m not a puny human you can make cower, Wyvern, so don’t go there.”

Humans again? This was more of a nightmare than a dream.

Cassandra bolted toward the Inn. She whipped open the main door and ran up the stairs, stumbling into walls and tripping over her own feet. Panting, she stopped at the top of the stairs. The hallway swirled. Putting her palm on her forehead, she wobbled toward her room.

She turned the lock on her door and sprinted to the bathroom. She shuddered. Kneeling in front of the white toilet, she slammed opened the lid and lost her dinner. She sobbed and slumped, cradling her head in her arms on the toilet seat.

Someone pounded on her door. She tore herself away from the toilet and locked the bathroom door. Was it Blackstone or Eric?

“Wraith, open the damn door.”

Shit, it was Eric. Firm footsteps marched across her bedroom floor. She lurched away from the toilet and the bathroom door. She leaned against the wall and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Perspiration trickled down her face.

The doorknob unlocked and turned. Her stomach twirled.

She crawled over to the cabinet and opened the doors. Clean pipes. Stacks of toilet paper. Two burgundy towels. Nothing. What was she going to do, throw at bar of soap at his head or whip him with a towel?

She had fingernails. Long red ones. She’d get him to leave her alone.

Eric stepped into the bathroom. His eyes narrowed and his mouth set in a straight line.

She threw a plastic trashcan at him.

He easily sidestepped it. Tissue fell all over the floor.

“Get away from me!”

He took a step toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I mean it. Stay away.”

His brown eyes turned red. He lowered himself to where she huddled on the floor. He reached for her.

Cassandra dug her nails into his hands.

His eyes widened and he flinched.

“Don’t touch me.”

Ebony wings flashed behind his back like switch blades.

She jumped back. Her head slammed against the wall. “What the hell are you? Get away from me.”

He lunged for her.

Cassandra screamed.

The Wraith appeared and snapped her fingers. Everything went black.