Taken by Darkness

Keeping his arm wrapped around her tiny waist, he lifted her off the ground and began backing toward the nearby tunnel, calling upon his powers to cloak them in shadows. It would not entirely disguise their scents, but it would hopefully mute them enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Silently he moved away from the cavern, edging deeper into darkness until he at last halted where the tunnel split in two directions. He gently set Juliet back on her feet, but he kept his arm firmly around her, absurdly needing the tangible comfort of knowing she was unharmed.

Glancing over her shoulder, Juliet tilted her chin, refusing to reveal the fear he could feel trembling through her body. His lips twisted as he ruefully admitted that he admired her courage, even as it threatened to drive him insane. After all, if she were a bit more timid they might even now be at his lair, spending the evening in a far more satisfying manner.

Wickedly, intimately satisfying.

“What are we doing?” she demanded.

“Waiting and hoping the creature passes on without noticing our trail.”

She nodded her head, then her brows tugged together as she noticed the thick scents that wafted from the far tunnel.

“Good lord, it smells of…”

“Humans.”

“Terror,” she softly corrected.

His hand cupped her chin as he studied her delicate face. “And what would you know of such a thing, little one?”

“When I was young my parents and I were traveling through Africa. One night we entered a town where a slaver’s ship was berthed.” She shivered. “I will never forget the stench of desperation. It spread through the streets and tainted everything in its path.”

“Your parents permitted you to be near such evil?”

“Actually, my mother used me to sneak aboard the ship and release the shackles that held the humans captive while she cast a spell that made the slavers believe they were being chased by hungry lions.” A small smile of remembered satisfaction curved her lips. “The last we heard, they ran straight into a tribal village that happened to take a very dim view of their townsfolk being sold like cattle.”

A cold fury clenched his stomach at the mere thought of what might have happened to her.

“Your mother sent you alone to release brutalized slaves?”

“She trusted that I was capable of performing an important task as well as teaching me to care for others,” she snapped, the raw wound of her parents’ death suddenly visible in her eyes. “Something I have forgotten far too often since…”

His fingers softened their grip to trail over her cheek, oddly feeling her pain as if it were his own.

“How did you become Hawthorne’s apprentice?”

“After my parents were murdered, I was determined to remain on my own.” A tremor shook her body. “It did not take long before I learned that humans are not the only creatures capable of great evil.”

“You were hurt?”

Her eyes clouded before she hastily lowered her lashes, as if she could hide her emotions from him.

“I was captured by trolls and sold to the highest bidder.”

Victor made no effort to contain the eruption of frigid power that filled the tunnels.

“Their names.”

She regarded him warily. “I beg your pardon?”

“Give me the names of the trolls.”

“They did not bother to share their private information and it no longer matters.” She gave a restless shrug. “I was fortunate that Lord Hawthorne was at the auction and purchased me.”

“Hardly fortunate,” he bit out. “The bastard has taken advantage of you and your talents for decades.”

“We both know how much worse it could have been.”

His jaw clenched. He wanted to deny the truth of her words. He detested the overly conceited bastard, and not just because he was a mage.

The man stood as a protector to this woman.

A position that belonged solely to Victor.

“Very well. I will concede there are worse fates than to be apprenticed to Hawthorne, but why do you continue to remain with him?” he growled. “The debt must be paid by now.”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

A dangerous emotion jolted through his heart at her soft words, his arm tightening in an unconsciously possessive motion.

“You are mistaken, little one. Your place is with me.”

A bleak smile curved her lips. “And once you weary of me in your bed, my lord? Would I become a tasty meal for your clan?”

Unthinkable.

He growled low in his throat, knowing he would readily kill any of his brothers who tried to touch her.

“Perhaps I will never weary of you.”

“I am no gullible mortal. A vampire’s hunger is as varied as it is insatiable until he has mated.”

His lips twisted in a humorless smile. “That is the common assumption.”

“Ah, no doubt you are about to convince me that you are different from every other vampire?”

“But of course I am. I expected that went without mentioning.”

“Arrogant—”

Victor swooped down to claim her lips in a kiss of naked, unrelenting need.

“My hunger remains insatiable, but it is no longer varied,” he confessed. “I desire no woman but you.”

“For the moment.”