Night Falls on the Wicked

FIFTEEN

Niklas walked a hard line through the narrow hall of the B&B, calling himself every name he could think of for agreeing to a scheme that his every instinct screamed at him to avoid. He was breaking every promise he’d ever made to himself.

He unlocked the door to his room and slammed inside. Tossing his bag on the bed, he started packing, muttering to himself. He should just forget about Darby and the girl and go, leave. He would find Cyprian and kill him. He could do that better without them tagging along. What was he thinking?

Ten years ago, he’d begun this journey. No distractions, no companions or friends. Barely a man, he’d set out alone, his mother forever gone from him, lost to her demon. But the memory of her, of all she’d sacrificed for him, spurred him on.

He’d vowed revenge against those who infected him, on the one who forced his mother into making such a sacrifice.

And now look at him. He had a kid and a woman for companions. No, even worse than that. He had an infected kid and a white witch. A white witch whose very scent drove him mad with lust.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that the first woman to get beneath his skin was a white witch. The very thing his mother was … the thing that she had been. Before she was taken from him.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the gear he’d left scattered about the room. He’d need to stop and restock on ammo and supplies on the way out. He wondered if Darby even knew how to shoot. He’d probably have to give her some instruction on that. Which only irritated him more. The last thing he needed was to take time out for shooting lessons—and he definitely didn’t need proximity to her. Thoughts of touching her already consumed far too much of his mind.

HIS MOUTH KISSED A fiery path down her throat, teeth dragging and nipping at her skin. He buried both hands in her hair, pulling her head back for his ravaging mouth.

A deep ache tugged inside her belly, throbbing and squeezing for relief.

He settled his weight between her legs, his hardness prodding against the inside of her thigh. She opened herself wider for him and slowly slid her hand between their bodies, enjoying the sensation of him against the back of her hand, the belly that was ridged with muscle and satiny skin.

She seized the hard length of him in her hand and ran her thumb over the tip of him. He shuddered over her. His cock filled her palm, pulsing and warm. Hot breath fanned her cheek as she guided him toward her, easing him inside her just a fraction…

Bang, bang, bang!

Darby bolted upright with a gasp.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes with a fist before swinging her gaze all around her bedroom, fighting the drugging influence of her dream … or vision.

Hell. Horror washed over her, dousing the heat brought on by her arousal. She didn’t quite know.

For the first time in her life she couldn’t distinguish between dream and vision. The realization left her stunned, shaken and furious with herself. For once in her life, her “gift” was proving unreliable. The one thing she could count on—whether she liked it or not—was the reliability of her visions, the recognition of them for what they were. And now she didn’t even have that.

The banging at her door continued. She stumbled from bed, casting a glance over her shoulder to see Aimee still asleep, her face flushed, dotted with perspiration. The incessant knocking didn’t rouse her in the least.

Darby peered through the blinds, verifying who was on the other side of the door. With a deep breath and silent command to forget her vision—dream, whatever—she pulled open the door.

Niklas stalked inside. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“I was asleep,” she mumbled, smoothing a hand over her wild hair self-consciously and hoping he didn’t read more into the blush staining her cheeks.

“You’re going to have to toughen up … especially considering where you’re headed.”

She straightened her spine. “I’ve hardly led a rosy existence. I’m tough.”

He ignored her comment. “How’s the girl?”

“Aimee,” she ground out. She motioned to the bedroom. “Still asleep. Feverish like you said.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Do you have your things ready?”

“Yes.” She’d packed before she fell into bed.

“Good. Let’s go. I have everything we need. She can sleep in the car. We need to move out before Cyprian’s trail grows cold.”

Ten minutes later, they were secured in the comfortable leather seats of Niklas’s Hummer, the heat blasting on high. She sat in the back again, Aimee’s head cushioned on her lap. She stroked her light brown hair, trying to give the child, as she whimpered in her sleep, as much comfort as she could.

They pulled out from the back lot behind Sam’s diner onto Main. As they approached the first stoplight, Darby surveyed Niklas through the rearview mirror. He looked left and right, considering which way to go.

“You know which way?”

He stopped looking and closed his eyes. The light turned green and still he sat there several moments before raising one finger and dropping it in the air to their right. “That way.”

“Just like that? You know?”

“Yeah.”

As they drove on, Darby turned and looked over her shoulder at the town she was leaving behind. A town like so many others where she’d worked and lived during the last few years. She felt no remorse.

Facing forward again, she looked down at the sleeping girl and vowed to make everything right for her. She brushed a hand over the girl’s forehead. She would see Aimee made it to her grandmother safely. Looking up, she caught Niklas staring at her through the mirror.

He didn’t look away immediately but seemed to hold her gaze. She tried to read something in those indigo eyes, tried to see something there. She had thought they were alike, but now she wasn’t so convinced. Now she wasn’t sure she could ever know someone like him. Someone who quite clearly didn’t want anyone to know him.