Текст книги "Chains of Frost"
Автор книги: T. A. Grey
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter Five
Chloe awoke to a definite chill in the air. She shivered and pulled the covers more fully over her. Except all that did was make her legs colder as the cover came up. Grumbling, she turned to the other side and pulled the cover up to her cheek. Instantly her legs and butt were chilled with goose bumps.
Popping open her eyes, she sat up and came to the quick and sudden realization that she was not in her hotel room anymore. She looked down at the little white towel wrapped loosely around her and pulled the ends tighter as she tried to control her racing thoughts.
Where the hell was she? A vast study or maybe a library. Her sister was nowhere to be seen.
The room was dark and filled with low-lit candles and a grand chandelier that casted the leather furniture in shadows. She stood on shaky legs and tried to remember what had happened.
Cemetery, spell casting, demon zombie screaming her name, then to bed. She gasped as she recalled waking up to two men and that nasty roaring she’d heard in the cemetery. The demon had followed her. And men were trying to steal her.
Spinning around, she caught sight of a man standing at an archway window looking out.
Shoot, that wasn’t a man.
As silently as she could, she kept her eyes on him and backed up. Don’t hear me. The man was huge, though not in a steroid taking, pumping iron way. He was tall with shoulders that filled the wide-open window. Damn, that window really needed bars or something over it to keep people from, oh, falling to their deaths. His back and lean hips caught her attention next. He wore a black long-sleeve shirt and matching pants yet the simple ensemble made him look dangerous in an “I’m completely normal” way. Even his hair was dark. Long too, pulled back in a severe tie at the back of his head.
Three more, silent steps backwards on the freezing cold floor beneath her bare feet.
“Surely you at least wish to know who I am before you leave.” She jumped at the sound of his voice and tripped over a table behind her.
She toppled to the ground, her butt skidding on the cold stone floor in a clump. Quickly disentangling herself, she stood, clutching the towel tighter around her. His voice...It was cold and hard. It held a tone that could mistakenly be construed as passive or bored but she was sure was just indifference. Was this what a killer sounded like? He could talk to you in that detached voice as he swung the sword that would take your head.
She thought briefly about righting the table she knocked over but decided edging towards the huge double-sided door was the smarter idea. Escape. She took another silent step towards those doors.
He turned towards her and her feet stopped moving. It was the complete opposite of what she should be doing, yet she couldn’t will her body to move anymore than she could tear her eyes away from him.
She knew who he was in an instant. It didn’t matter that she’d never met him or even had one iota of what he looked like before. One did not become commander of a legion of vampires that fought demons for a living without getting that cold, hard look in his eyes.
A deep scar was set into his skin underneath his right eye. It was jagged and reached from his nose to his temple. It must be old because it wasn’t red with freshness, but a paler shade of his skin. His hair formed a widow’s peak that somehow made him look more severe...and even more intriguingly handsome. Chloe tried to recall the last time a man had her staring but couldn’t think of one. Yet this man commanded her attention with his very presence, without words or actions.
He stood straight and erect as if he was about to command armies to attack not have a conversation. This man was Commander Tyrian en Kulev, the scariest man on the face of the earth. And he wanted to talk to her. Hell, he technically owned her thanks to her father’s insane will.
Right, time to go, Chloe thought, and edged towards the door. He merely watched her. “If you will not have this conversation with me then you will only make things harder on yourself, Ms. Bellum.” She winced at the use of her name. But his words worked. She stood frozen, clutching the small hotel towel like it could save her from this man.
A swarm of emotions flitted through her as he simply watched her with those tracking, deadly eyes. With one look, he managed to make her feel like the sole focus of his thoughts and words. It might have been flattering if this man didn’t technically have rights to her now. And if he didn’t make his living by being a really good killer. Oh, and if he didn’t scare her so badly.
Bravely lifting her chin she said, “Then talk.”
His eyebrows raised just a hair as if he wasn’t used to being ordered to do anything. He pulled his arms behind him. The action opened his chest to her and made her realize just how built he was. His shoulders were wide and filled out his shirt well, while his chest tapered to a more slender waist.
“We are in a situation that cannot be changed. Were you notified of the rights of
ownership given to me?”
Chloe ground her teeth and seethed inside. The word “ownership” while referring to her made her want to hit him. Yet all she could do was stare at his eyes. This man and his eyes were unlike anything she’d ever encountered before. Icy blue like a sky, glittering and bright.
“I’m quite aware,” she said, peering at the wide double door. It looked heavy. Would she even be able to pull it open?
Nerves had her feeling twitchy, like bugs were crawling up her arms and legs. She rubbed at them and took uneven breaths.
He said, “Since your rights have been given to me, stipulations must be made.” He took a step forward and she flinched, unable to help herself. He either didn’t notice her reaction or didn’t care because he ignored her and went to the corner of the room where the biggest desk she’d ever seen sat. It was bigger than the bathroom of her first apartment and much cleaner.
“You are not to leave the compound under any circumstance without strict permission from me. You are not to be outside these walls at night. There will be no trips, no friends visiting, and absolutely no bothering me, my quarters, my things, my guards, or my work in any way.”
Chloe stifled the sharp retort that was on her tongue and made a dash for the double door.
Her hand touched the brass handle, pulled down on it, then started to yank it open when a big hand slammed against the door an inch above her hand. She gave a startled scream and spun around, nearly losing the towel. He was standing not even a foot away.
Although he might as well have been on the far side of the room for she couldn’t even feel a hint of heat from his body. Well of course, she thought coldly, the man was a cold-hearted killer. Sure he fought on the right side of things, if there was such a thing, but his eyes were those of a man who’d seen terrible things for far too long. No one could ever remain unjaded after that.
She hadn’t realized she was staring into his eyes—eyes the color of the lightest of skies—
until he blinked and shattered the look.
“You know what I say is true, Ms. Bellum. Do not fight this or you will only make
trouble for yourself. If you are aware of what your father has done upon his death, though I am still unsure why he made such a decision, then you know you are under my exclusive care. I am your Protector now.” Being so near him was like standing next to your executioner. An executioner who could take her, use her, share her in the worst of ways and nothing the law could do could help her. Because she was his.
“I am not yours. I will never be yours.” She gulped at his unblinking stare.
“Commander,” she added somewhat nicely. If she couldn’t take the bull by the horn then maybe she could coax it to lie down while she found a way out of here...and maybe a shirt.
His brow furrowed and she swore that he seemed closer to her though she hadn’t seen him take a step. Was this a vampire trick or her imagination?
“This situation is one that neither of us seems to want.” For some reason the fact that he didn’t want her miffed her. Just a little.
“Then let me go.” He didn’t shake his head but she sensed the refusal in him.
“Impossible. I am sealed by a debt of honor to your father. I will uphold it, no matter how complicated this matter is. The rules I mentioned before still stand and will never change.”
He had a mouth that if he didn’t have it pulled into that tight line might be kissable, even lickable. Dang, Chloe. What’s wrong with you? Checking out the captor? She was crazy.
“ Honestly who upholds any of that old school stuff anyways? No one. My papa didn’t even pay into the whole patriarchal thing anyways. Seriously, we were raised independent and taught not to rely on a man. That fact that he’s...he’s given me to you is ridiculous and completely wrong for him. Just let me go and we’ll call it even. Your debt, paid.”
“I can’t do that, Ms. Bellum. I will not dishonor your father and the vow I made to repay my debt to him. You will stay here, under my protection.”
She scoffed. “And where is this?” His voice was like cold ice running over her. It pebbled her nipples and brought goose bumps over her skin but not in a pleasurable way.
“You are at my castle in Norway. We are near the Jorgmund, the biggest hole in the rift, where we get the most lapses. Many of the Atal Warriors are stationed below the castle.”
Chloe squeezed her eyes shut. Think! Okay, what would her sisters do? Willow was probably already near China. No one could ever stop her, and Lily would probably try to perform some voodoo to get free.
She took a deep breath, which did the opposite of calming her because she accidentally drew in his scent. She gasped and felt a flash of pleasure surge through her. He smelled as a man should, like something she could lick and bite and sink her teeth into over and again.
Oh God, what am I doing thinking thoughts like that! She was losing her mind. First her papa died leaving her to this nonsense, and now she was stuck with the most notorious man in the world. She would escape. She could do that. He didn’t seem intent upon hurting her and she might even be able to use the fact that he was indebted to her Papa to gain some leverage, if necessary.
Escape. Her mind whirled with possibilities. Like how the heck did she get out of
Norway and to an airport? She didn’t even have any money on her.
“We need to discuss what will occur at the next new moon.” The thought she’d been
having came to an abrupt stop in her head. Her eyes slammed open and her back dug into the door to try to get away from him.
“You can’t...we can’t,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “No way,” she said finally.
The commander turned around and marched away. She took a deep breath; it was as if he sucked up all the air in the room with his presence. Now she could breathe but it didn’t smell as delicious as it did when he was near.
She tightened her grip on the towel to keep it from sliding down and embarrassing the hell out of her while she slowly, quietly slipped her free hand behind her. Her heart was beating so hard and fast, she prayed he couldn’t hear it. Could vampires hear such things? She reached, searching for the door handle.
“Something must be done. I am sure you are aware of the changes that you will go
through at the new moon.”
Chloe glared at him. He knew just the right things to say to piss her off. “I am a succubus, of course I know. Better than you, I’m sure,” she said without hiding the sarcasm in her voice.
“And I am not doing that with you,” she added for good measure.
He brought those eyes back to her, seemingly assessing everything about her. From the red nail polish on her toes to the not-perfectly-thin figure she sported. She clutched the towel tighter around her and did what she knew Willow would do. She glared at him with a look that clearly said fuck you.
“That is more than acceptable to me. I am sure you can find any number of willing males around the castle for your time of need. I’d recommend one of my closest guards because I sincerely trust them. If they do not meet your standards perhaps one of the other Atal Warriors that reside below the castle. Please feel free to ask any of them. I shall not announce it to them in order to spare your privacy.”
Chloe thought his proclamation might be sweet if he didn’t say it with a tone that
bordered on arctic. Though she couldn’t help but think that he was acting as her pimp with the suggestion. Bastard. Handsome bastard with a nasty scar that kept drawing her gaze. What was the story behind it? Every scar had a story, no matter how simple. Never mind, it didn’t matter.
She was getting the hell out of here.
“I’m rather tired. I’d like to go now.” That is if I even get my own room. She swore that if he tried to put her in his own bed, he was going to lose his balls by the end of the night.
He gave a clipped nod then strode towards her. Her heart kicked up again. If she plastered herself any more thoroughly against the door, she’d carve herself into it. Whatever she thought he was going to do, it wasn’t to reach behind her and grab the door handle. His hand touched hers, which had curled tightly around the brass. She squealed, jumping at his unexpected touch.
The action sent a series of events into motion.
Chloe jerked her hand away from the shocking, scalding heat of his hand. The quick
motion dislodged the knot of her towel and sent the scrap of cloth fluttering to a pool around her naked feet. As her wide-eyes shot to his, she bent forward to try to cover her nakedness. The commander, Tyrian en Kulev’s expression was something she would never, ever forget.
The cool, indifferent blue of his eyes ran quickly over her nipples, stomach, and sex.
Those ice blue eyes widened a fraction, flared, and burned her with the intensity of their heat.
Chloe gasped in a mix of surprise and pleasure. Stupidly she wondered if the commander had any idea how...seductive, intoxicating, sexy, he looked right now.
The bloom of heat that unfurled from inside her couldn’t be stopped, nor could the
thought of him taking her into his arms and kissing her. Do it, she pleaded silently to his downcast eyes. How did he make her go so quickly from wanting escape to wanting to be in his arms?
He blinked and took one hard step back. The spell broke like glass shattering. He didn’t meet her eyes, but pulled down the door handle and opened it. It was as if the moment never happened.
“Draven,” he called out. A second later, a tall warrior appeared at the door. His eyes instantly hit hers and a grin spread across his face as his eyes trailed down her body in a purely masculine sweep. None of his look had the intensity that Tyrian’s had, nor did it warm her body in hot anticipation. She recognized the warrior as one she’d punched solidly, twice, in the face before he captured her.
Before she had a chance to move, Tyrian flashed before her, picking up the towel and wrapping it around her. She had only a brief glance, but it was enough to see the anger in his eyes. At her or at the warrior? Another flare of heat sparked inside her, warming her blood like hot syrup.
The warrior named Draven nodded at her and, at Tyrian’s orders, led her to her room.
Chloe ached to look back at the commander, which was silly and all kinds of stupid. She was...attracted to him. Literally, the absolute last thing she’d expected when she learned she was his. A warmth washed over her back. Was he watching her right now as his guard led her away?
Surprisingly, insanely, the thought of spending her new moon with the commander was not unpleasant. Chloe followed the guard and wondered what her sisters would do in this situation.
Chapter Six
Willow stepped off the train, tucked her chin to her chest, and kept walking. It didn’t take long for her to feel that same presence behind her as if she was being watched—or followed.
How was that possible? He couldn’t be here already. She barely resisted the urge to turn her head around and scan the area for anyone suspicious. She found herself starting to turn but snapped her head forward. She would not give in to this man in any way. It was a man, too.
She’d felt his masculine presence ever since she’d left London.
She’d even gone so far as to randomly get off at some stop in the west of France only to hop onto another train that would take her into Spain where she was now. Yet that presence was still behind her.
She’d discreetly checked the train cars around her, eyeing people in the seats but saw no one taking particular notice of her Either she was paranoid, which considering her nerves right now, was a definite possibility, or he was already here. But how could that be?
Was the Alpha, Lyonis Keelan, here? Tracking her like a runaway pup or, in this case, his runaway woman? Her hands tightened around the backpack straps over her shoulders. She barely resisted the urge to turn around and scream I’ll never be your woman, beast!
She was a grown woman living in the year 2011. This was not the dark ages. These were not like the old times that many succubi still lived by. Her life did not belong to a man; she would never be owned by a man. She’d rather die first than lose herself. Lyonis Keelan would have to find his mate elsewhere.
Finally giving in to the temptation, she darted a glance behind her. Early morning light crept in through the windows of the train station, lighting the place up in a happy orange glow that did nothing to improve her mood. People bustled about, getting on and off trains with luggage and backpacks. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and the bitter tinge of cigarette smoke floated by her nostrils.
She saw no man following her. What did the Alpha of all shapeshifters look like anyway?
She had no clue. Big, skinny, tall, short. It could be anyone and no one. The chances of him somehow finding her were incredibly small, yet that nagging feeling wouldn’t leave the back of her neck. It had her constantly searching faces, always wanting to glance back. Logic told her he had no idea she’d gone to London or was now wandering around in Spain.
She couldn’t stay in any place for too long. From here on out she was going on foot.
Hiking, walking, and maybe catching a few rides here and there.
Willow stepped out into the fresh morning light, bought a map from a vendor, and started out. She headed east. Anywhere in the middle of Europe would be good.
The further she got from the train station, though, the more she realized someone had to be following her. If anything, that feeling of being watched was now worse, closer, and more intense. Her frustration peaked like a boiling thermometer.
Spinning in a circle, she threw open her arms and said, “Come out and talk to me, you fucking coward!”
Trumpets did not sing to announce some grand arrival. A red carpet was not unraveled.
What did happen was that a woman with dark hair opened a window and spoke in quick, angry Spanish at her.
Mumbling an apology, Willow tucked her head back down and started down the street.
The more distance she covered, and quickly, the better. As she reached the end of the street, she felt a change in the air. A stirring in the wind rustled leaves off the street and blew a hanging sign over a bakery. And just like that, Willow’s gaze landed on a man leaning casually against the wall of a book shop. He looked like he was ready to be in a Marlboro commercial, minus the cowboy getup.
Willow blinked and tried to get her mind to work. He hadn’t been there a moment before, right? She thought hard and fast, which was a struggle because she couldn’t tear her eyes off him. This man was simply perfect, distracting as hell. She was certain he also hadn’t been standing there just a moment ago. He looked casual with his booted foot resting against the wall, his arms crossed loosely.
Only twice in her life had she felt the urge to turn and run. Once was yesterday in the cemetery when she and her sisters summoned a zombie, and the other was right this very second.
Sweat beaded on her brow and neck and had nothing to do with the warm temperature.
The man watched her with a predatory awareness that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. His hair bordered on being a few inches too long; as if he just hadn’t bothered having it cut in a while. His eyes were dark brown, framed by a set of dark lashes and a curved slash of brows. His cheeks were high, hollowed enough to make the butt of his chin and jaw hard; his lips were the perfect thickness. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. And she couldn’t wait to get away from him.
“What do you want?” she said. A smile tugged at one side of that sexy mouth, his eyes never left hers.
“You asked for me to come out. I am merely answering your request.”
Oh God, his voice was sin. The perfect tenor mixed with a dark sensuality that reminded her of flushed faces and straining bodies.
“Who are you?”
The other corner of his mouth curled up. The smile was almost mocking. She wanted to slap it off.
“I think you know who I am.” Impossible.
“How did you get here so fast?”
She had just turned 29. She was in an entirely different country for goodness’ sake. His boot hit the ground and then he was walking towards her. His gait tightened something inside her. Something dark and sensual, something she’d never quite untapped. She’d never seen anyone walk like that. Like he had animal grace inside him that made his movements more fluid, faster, sharper than anyone else’s. She’d seen men try to mimic this movement, but it wasn’t real.
This man was all real. And he stopped a foot away from her.
“I am an Alpha shapeshifter. Alpha over all my kind.” He said the words with pride and confidence that told her how dangerous this man was. And completely cocky. “I can take many forms, Willow.” Willow closed her eyes, suppressing a shiver at the sound of her name. It was as if with that one word he’d caressed her breasts with a warm hand. He’s dangerous, her mind warned.
“Lyonis Keelan,” she said.
He nodded in agreement. The motion sent locks of his short hair falling over his face in an array that made her want to push it back, not because it was messy but because she wanted to feel it. He seemed so...pettable.
Don’t forget who and what he is, idiot! A control freak, a dominating man who wanted his woman to sleep at his feet. He could have any woman. Just not me.
“That still doesn’t tell me how you found me so fast.”
He lifted a shoulder—a very big shoulder—in a way that almost made it look like she’d just complimented him. He smiled at her, but his eyes were sharper, assessing. Watchful.
“I flew here.”
“Try again. The next flight to London wasn’t until later today.” She tried not to notice how well-built he was, as if she even could. Like a barbarian from the days of old, fighting with bare hands and simple weapons just for food. He would have had his pick of women. Hell, even today he would.
Now his eyes were laughing. At her. Willow clamped her mouth shut and wished she had something to throw at him.
“I flew as a bird. I don’t take planes. That’s an unnatural way for me to travel. I tracked you by this,” he said and reached into his pocket to take out a crumpled, folded t-shirt. Willow’s jaw fell open as she recognized the pink shirt with white glittered letters that read “Bite Me.”
“What are you doing with my shirt?” She reached to snatch her precious shirt but he kept it away. The action brought her close enough to smell him—wood, mud, earth. She used to like the smell of cologne, but whatever this man had could easily be bottled and sold. He took advantage of her single step and stepped into her. The action put them mere inches apart. He looked down at her with warm, chocolate eyes. Her nipples hardened and her core dampened, readying.
“Your father sent me this shirt. He made sure it was not laundered so it still smells of you. I’ve become quite intimate with your scent. It’s very...strong, feminine. I like it very much.”
The compliment staggered her heart like a tremor and should not have made her feel so heart-racingly good. She had to remind herself of what kind of man he was. Most shapeshifters were bad enough, but the dominant ones were the worst. And to be the Alpha, the strongest of them all? He dominated the dominant ones. He was going to be the worst.
“Fine, keep the shirt.” She spun around and headed in the opposite direction. She felt his fingers curl around the bare skin of her arm a second before she was spun around and pulled into a hot, hard chest. “Let me go, Lyonis.” He smiled at her—the way a predator does to a prey before it leaps.
“Not yet, little one. You’re even more beautiful that I’d imagined. You are mine now. At first, I was not happy at the news, but now I can see why Francis left you to me. A fine gift I must say for the debt I owed him. I think I may be getting the better end of the bargain.” His hand reached up to touch her hair, but she quickly ducked and spun out of his arms. She was breathing hard and she didn’t know what from.
“I am not yours. I will never be yours. I am not a possession.” A perfect masculine brow cocked high.
“But you are mine according to law. I can do with you as I wish. I will protect you, and you will get to be my queen. Most of all, you will care for my needs day or night, and I will yours.” Willow’s jaw fell open and then her hand shot out, caught his hard jaw with a resounding smack. His eyes flared before narrowing on her. “You should be warned that if you run, I will not be able to help myself. I will come for you and I will never stop. And after seeing that flare of passion in you, I am even more determined than ever to have you.”
“No, you will not! Do you hear me, beast man? Go find someone who actually wants you because I don’t.” She tried to pull away, but strong hands latched onto her arms and brought her back into his body. She bared her teeth at him and struggled to free herself. Suddenly he was bending his head down towards hers.
She froze, her blood pounding in her ears. His mouth came closer and closer to her lips.
God he smelled so good, would he taste as good? But then he changed direction and nuzzled her ear.
In a voice that sent shivers down her spine he said, “You are mine, Willow Bellum. Mine now and forever. I warn you not to run from the beast for the beast will only chase you, thrilled by the hunt of such a perfect prey. Come with me now and save yourself because you will never be able to outrun me.” The lulling, deep tones of his voice had her eyes closing, and the kneading way he held her arms was almost nice. But the challenge he presented brought her back to reality.
Using all her strength, she shoved him away from her. She had a feeling he only moved at his own volition and not because of her, but her ego ignored that.
“I will never be yours. I am not a possession.” She gave him one last look then sprinted off down the street, the power of her body guiding her.
The chase was on.
