Luther's Return (Scanguards Vampires Book 10)

“Come in,” Thomas answered.

The door opened and Haven entered. His gaze immediately fell on Blake. “Thought I’d find you here.”

“You’re back already? What about the lead?”

Haven shook his head, regret in his eyes. “Sorry, false alarm. It was a case of domestic violence. It wasn’t Isabelle. We sorted the jerk out for kicking his girlfriend around, but the two had nothing to do with Isabelle’s abduction.” He motioned to Thomas and Eddie. “Anything new here?”

Thomas and Eddie remained silent, their gazes shifting to Blake.

Blake sighed. “I’m afraid so. We just figured out that Isabelle wasn’t the target.”

Haven’s forehead furrowed. “But if she wasn’t, then who was?”

“Katie.”

“Fuck!” Haven cursed and turned back to the door.

“What are you doing?”

Haven ripped the door open and looked over his shoulder. “She was in the observation room earlier. I’ve gotta get her and protect her.”

Haven raced into the corridor and to the elevator bank, jamming his thumb on the button to call the elevator.

Blake ran after him. “What the fuck was she doing at HQ?”

“She wanted to help.”

“You smuggled her in? That’s against—”

“I don’t know who she sweet-talked to get in, but you know my sister. She’s resourceful.”

“Yeah, and one day that trait will get her into trouble.”

Haven nodded. “I just hope today is not that day.”





11


Luther was losing all sense of time and place. All that mattered right now was the woman in his arms: the softness of her lips, the intoxicating taste of her mouth, the spellbinding touch of her fingers as she gently traced his scars. As if their ugliness didn’t bother her.

Just like the faint smell of witch on her didn’t bother Luther. He’d always abhorred witches of all kinds—most vampires did—but Katie’s scent appealed to him, in fact lured him to her like a beacon guiding a ship to shore. A ship adrift in a vast ocean. A ship that had lost its compass.

Katie responded with passion, despite his demanding kiss and his insistent touch.

Despite the fact that he was a dangerous vampire, a stranger in fact, she pressed herself to his body, and encouraged him to grind his hard cock against her with an ever increasing tempo. The soft cries of passion and lust coming from her throat urged him to roam her body, explore her lush curves, while the scent of her arousal drove the vampire inside him insane with need.

His body heated with every lap of his tongue against hers. Deeper and deeper he foraged into the cavern of her delicious mouth, running his tongue along her teeth, nibbling on her lips, tasting her. He was starving for this kiss, couldn’t get enough of it. For over twenty years, he hadn’t kissed a soul, hadn’t felt this kind of intense connection with another living being. For over two decades he’d only known the touch of his own hand, as he satisfied his base needs during the lonely daylight hours in prison, when it was quiet and most vampires slept.

But none of the orgasms he’d experienced at his own hand compared to the pleasure he felt now kissing this woman, this witch—the actress with eyes like a cat. Green eyes. The eyes that had stared at him from those posters in the prison cell.

Shit!

Abruptly, he released Katie. This was all wrong. Breathing hard, he stared at her. Her lips looked bruised from his kisses. Her hair now fell over her shoulders. Had he been the one to undo the medieval hairdo?

When he met her eyes, he could see it clearly: the lust and passion he’d awakened in her.

What the hell had come over him? He couldn’t even remember why he’d kissed her in the first place. But he knew why he had to stop: he had to stay away from women. A woman had been his doom once, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“Go!” he demanded roughly, breaking eye contact. “Go home.”

“No fucking way!”

Her resolute answer made him snap his head back to her. He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing his attention away from her face and to her luscious breasts, which only moments ago had been crushed to his chest. Such softness, such comfort they’d provided him.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what you know about the guy who wrote those letters.”

Luther’s nostrils flared. “You’re not in a position to make demands. Besides, I have no idea who wrote the letters.”

He turned on his heel, ready to leave, because the longer he stayed in her company, the harder it would be to extricate himself from it. He knew himself too well; twenty years alone in a cell had made sure of that. Katie was the kind of woman who could get to him, and he wasn’t going to allow that.

“But you have a suspicion.”