His tongue sought my own, and the blood dripped from his mouth to mine. He was ablaze with energy that forced any doubt or reluctance from me. The mix of vampire and werewolf power inside me was intrigued, curious to know what Kale had to offer.
Even as I savored the way the blood scratched Arys’ itch inside me, I was drawn to Kale’s centuries old energy. It wasn’t the same with Arys. I had a bond with him that went to the root of our metaphysical makeup. Instead, I realized that I could feed on Kale’s power and use it as my own. I realized that my power viewed Kale as a source to feed from, which was empowering after the night in the Charger when he’d made me the victim. I was fully aware of him drawing on my power as well, but this was different because I had control.
I allowed myself to fall into the power and ride out the wave that held us in its thrall.
I tasted him with a selfish abandon that overruled my common sense. My wolf was pressing the surface of my control, and the desire to spill his blood won out.
I bit his tongue, just enough to get a taste of him. Kale’s blood was an intoxicating blend of rich, age-old power and time. Power that didn’t get exercised the way that it should. My body responded to him against my will as his deathly alluring darkness touched me in forbidden places.
He broke off the kiss and stepped back. I couldn’t prevent the gasp that came from me. I stared at him in awestruck wonder as I licked the blood from my lips. In light of what he’d told me earlier, I couldn’t decide which of us was the cause of this strange moment.
I searched Kale’s eyes for a sign of his reaction. He regarded me coolly, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. Tentatively, he reached a pale hand out to touch the bleeding gashes along my upper arm. I was afraid to speak and break the strange spell as I watched him then lick my blood from the tips of his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” Kale spoke softly, a look of shame evident in his contrasting eyes. “We should go.”
Now that I’d tuned into Kale’s personal energy, I could really feel the sadness and sense of loss. I hadn’t been aware he carried it around so strongly. He was a very lost man. Kale needed to find himself. Something I felt I was still only beginning to do myself.
“Don’t be sorry,” I breathed, unable to make the words come out any stronger. I had to take a few deep breaths. “Don’t deny what you are, Kale. And, never apologize for it.”
“You make it sound so easy.” He eyed the pulse leaping hard in my throat, and I swallowed hard.
“It can be. It doesn’t have to be something you deny in order to maintain control.
You can’t ignore what you are or what you need.”
His eyes closed briefly, his dark lashes framing them beautifully. A pained expression crossed his face. “I have to ignore this need, so we have to leave before I do give in.”
It frightened me when he said that because I could feel the raw honesty in his tone.
After the kiss we’d just shared, my own control was seriously being tested. The energy of the hunger has a way of trying to sway decisions, and it was always about the power.
My tongue held the combined taste of both the dead wolf and Kale. I couldn’t resist licking my lips once again, tasting them both.
“Alright, let’s get out of here.” I nodded toward the dead she-wolf just yards away.
“I’ll call Fox to deal with disposing of that.” Fox Mathews was the resident medically trained werewolf and friend of my small town pack. He dealt with our nasty injuries and took care of things like this, things human authorities simply must not be allowed to discover.
“Thank you, Alexa.” Kale nodded and tipped his hat to me like the classy gentleman he usually was. “You are a true gem.”
I concentrated on taking deep breaths in order to slow the beating of my thrashing heart. My mind was reeling, and it was all I could do not to giggle foolishly in response to the power high.
As we made our way back toward the filthy street front, I wiped at my bloody arm. It wasn’t as bad as it felt. If I thought I’d had worries about what to tell Arys and Shaz before, I sure had them now. I chewed my lower lip nervously as I turned that conversation over in my head. Maybe … maybe it was better kept quiet for now.
Chapter Eight
I stifled a yawn and took another sip from my paper coffee cup. Jez pulled a skimpy French maid costume from the clothing rack, and I shook my head vigorously in response.
“You wouldn’t seriously wear that, would you?” I reached past her to finger the material of a velvet medieval gown.
“I don’t know. I could be Magenta from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.” She eyed the price tag before putting it back. “It’s a cute option anyway.”
“You should be someone really badass,” I said, moving to another wall of costumes.
“Like Beatrix Kiddo.”
Jez tucked a long golden strand of hair behind an ear that was adorned with a large silver hoop. She looked both casual and stylish in a leather jacket and biker boots. The blue jeans she wore fit her slender legs like a second skin.