Born Of Night cd-4 Read online

  Gabriel tore his mouth away from hers, heaving for air, collapsing on top of her, shaking with the explosive force of climax. Her body was melting, dissolving into the hard ground. Jessica sobbed with relief and fading pleasure, quaking as he pulled away from her, his cock breaking the suction of her body with an erotically wet sound.

  She closed her eyes, trying to reform the pieces of her body. She was so weak ...

  bruised ... raw ... satisfied. She should’ve been ashamed--she wasn’t.

  He recovered while she was still gathering herself, trying to think of something she should say or do. He gently kissed the slope of her shoulder before moving away.

  The loss of his heat and presence resonated through her.

  She lay still, knowing he watched her expectantly, waiting for her excuses. Jessica couldn’t look at him. She felt the heat of his gaze on her, knew he was pissed. His anger crackled in the air, as palpable to her as a slap. If she opened her eyes, she’d see it for certain. She couldn’t take condemnation now, not after what they’d done, what she’d begged him to do.

  “Look at me, chere,” he commanded. His voice was deadly soft.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him standing above her, studying her with an expression that had her quaking inside.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’ you tell me you were a virgin?”

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest. “I didn’t think it mattered that much.”

  Gabriel bit off a curse, his French unable to soften its rough violence. His hands shook as though he meant to touch her again. He ran them savagely through his hair, his jaw knotted, his muscles tense.

  Jessica swallowed hard, sat up and immediately saw the blood on her thighs. It was pink with the mixture of semen and her own creamy juices. She felt ill all of a sudden, raw inside. She pushed her dress down before he had a chance to see it.

  He did. He looked more angry than ever. “I would never ha’ touched you--” He broke the words off with a furious growl, as though too pained to utter them. He rubbed his face, shielding his eyes from the sight of her.

  Jessica stood on her knees, reaching for him, ignoring his semi-soft erection and smeared groin. “I don’t regret it, Gabriel.”

  He flinched away from her, grabbing her wrist before she could touch him. Warning glittered in his eyes, roughened his voice to a growl. “If you don’ wan’ me to fuck you senseless, don’ touch me.”

  The coarse hue of his voice made her tremble, rubbed against her insides like the hot, hard stroke of a tongue. Oh god, even now, surrounded by danger, aching inside, she wanted him again. The explosive climax had fried brain cells. She felt like an addict, in need of a fix, desperate to have it again. She withdrew her hand from his hold as though burned. The intensity of feeling frightened her, set warnings to ringing in her head.

  He turned his head, sniffing the air. “You have t’go. Now. I can hold them off long enough for you to escape.”

  Jessica stood, alarm heightening her reflexes and lending speed to her muscles. She wouldn’t do it--he didn’t deserve to face this alone, though she had no idea how she could help him, or how many foes they would face. She shook her head, resolute.

  “No. I can’t leave you here to die.”

  “They won’ kill me, petite. They will if you’re here to confirm what we done. You can’ erase my mark on you.”

  He was lying. The bastard wanted to protect her. He was crazy. She was crazy.

  “Why is this happening? What do they want?”

  He was quiet a long moment. She could see he battled himself, striving to contain something, some secret. Curiosity burned in her, stronger than her desire to flee.

  He grabbed her chin, forced her to look straight into his eyes so that she couldn’t escape what he was going to tell her. She flinched at his hard grip. His eyes softened and he eased his hold.

  “You’re Lycan, as I am....” He drew in a hard breath, continuing on before she could respond, “Werewolves, Jessica. I didn’ want to tell you before. I knew your father.”

  She slapped his hand away, feeling sudden, immense betrayal. “What? Stop lying to me!” She wanted to scream, kick something, rip something--anything to shreds to satisfy the hurt searing her mind.

  He grabbed her, halted the violence shimmering inside as he hugged her fiercely. He forced her to feel the comfort of his body. He laid kisses against the top of her head, moved through the tangle of her hair to her ear, speaking in a soft, strained voice. “It

  ’s no’ lies. He didn’ want dis life for you. Your mother died in the birthin’. He sent you away in secret that night, to keep you from changin’, to keep you from bein’ our whore. The pack found out, imprisoned him. He killed himself to protect you, so no Lycan cou’ ever find you.”

  Gabriel shuddered against her once the words had spilled out. He breathed brokenly behind her ear, ragged against her neck--her pain his own.

  Anguish, raw and severe, grated her mind. She closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Suicide...? It couldn’t be true. None of this could be true. Gabriel couldn’t be much older than she was, maybe thirtyish, he couldn’t possibly have known her father. It wasn’t possible. He was insane ... or a liar ... or both.

  “I don’t believe you,” she whispered, pushing away from him, missing the heat of his arms already. She was weak, too needy, too vulnerable to him. She didn’t want to believe him, couldn’t. It was too hard to stretch her imagination so far, no matter how much her conscience told her he spoke the truth.

  The look he bestowed on her was hurt, radiating regret. The anger had seeped from him, leaving the haunted man she’d seen briefly before. Guilt assailed her, twisting in her gut. She felt as though she’d plunged a knife into him, as though it wasn’t she who’d been delivered devastating news, but a reversal. What fate had conspired in her life to deliver such agony, such fierce desires and aching loss?

  “Believe wha’ you will,” he said softly, painfully. “D’ truth will come, soon enough.

  Now you mus’ go.”

  Gabriel turned his back on her, striding from the tent. She knew he was going to his death, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

  Chapter Eight

  The ground was littered with death traps and mutilators; roots, rocks, prickly pears, and other objects and obstructions she couldn’t place with her limited senses in her nearly blind state. The moon had already begun it’s descent, glowing gold above the treetops, filtering through the canopy like scattered rain. Her feet and legs bled from her headlong rush, but she ignored the pain, running through the woods at an insane pace, praying she wouldn’t fall and break something.

  She had to get help. They were going to kill Gabriel, possibly even come after her.

  But that didn’t matter nearly so much as what she imagined him to be going through, what tortures they’d devised. Thinking about it quickened her pace, stole the breath from her lungs, made her heart gallop in her chest. She knew for certain now that they were some kind of cult, and being in the middle of nowhere, there was nothing to stop them from doing exactly what they wanted to to Gabriel.

  Jessica realized it didn’t matter what Gabriel or she believed, the danger was still real. He could be saved from their brain washing, but only if she could get to the police in time. She bit back the exhausted sobs, trying to stay focused, calm.

  Hysteria loomed under the surface, threatening to consume at any unguarded moment.

  The moon guided her, dipping in the sky, foretelling the late hour. It had to be after midnight, probably later. The streets would be dead in town. She kept the moon’s position fixed and headed east, always glancing past the tree tops to make sure she hadn’t strayed off course. She didn’t dare try to find the road and follow it, even if it would speed her progress. They could be looking for her, even now. The road would be a death trap.

  The wind picked up, rustling through the trees with a whistling rush. Branches rattled above her, shaking d
ried leaves to flutter to the ground. Her hair twisted and writhed in the breeze like a live thing, flying into her face and mouth until she was blinded completely by the thrashing tendrils.

  A howl rippled through the night like the toll of a death knell, spelling her doom. The wail rose again, undulating on the air like some foul caress, followed by an excited call--words indistinguishable but instantly recognizable for what they were.

  Fright froze her to the spot, clenched her heart in a painful, breath stealing grip. Ice flooded her veins, swallowing her, replacing calm with instant, dread panic.

  Jesus! Oh god, oh god, oh god.... They were after her. The howls, the howls were coming closer, everywhere, all around. She shook her head, covering her ears, trying to block the noise, fighting down the mind numbing panic. But muffling their calls only worsened her fear. She dropped her arms, cocking her head, trying to gain their position, heard them above her.

  Something fluttered in the treetops, briefly blocked her view of the stars. It had to be a bird, an owl, something--anything else. She was going crazy, it wasn’t possible.

  Men couldn’t fly, the woods were distorting the sound.

  They had to be behind her.

  Jessica tore off in a run, ignoring the stitch in her side, the stinging, tearing brambles, the grate of bark on her skin as she ran into trunks and pressed on. Her lungs froze with the crisp air. Her throat felt raw from dragging each breath in, fighting blackness that swam in and out of her vision, threatening unconsciousness.

  Wind roared around her, whipping her hair and dress into a frenzy, forcing debris into her eyes. She shielded her face, kept running, tried to listen past the thundering in her ears, but the forest had grown deathly silent, giving no warning.

  She ran into a trunk, bouncing off it onto the ground. The breath knocked from her lungs at the impact, forcing her to drag in shaky lungfuls of air. Her body felt bruised, battered beyond belief. She blinked the dirt out of her eyes, laughing hysterically at herself, forcing the macabre giggles back.

  It was then that she saw the legs.

  * * *

  She was surrounded. The hysterical laughter died in an instant, replaced with quiet wariness. She cringed at her weakness, despising herself, despising that she hadn’t run fast enough, that she had no way to protect herself. She was so weary of being hunted, almost to the point where she sadistically willed them to end her constant, excruciating anxiety.

  There were three of them, possibly more that she couldn’t see. Their faces and arms were white, almost glowing and paler than her own skin, seeming disembodied with the darkness and their black attire.

  One of them broke off from the trio, approaching her and reaching for her face.

  Jessica hesitated on taking off his fingers with her teeth, waiting to see if by chance she’d merely over-reacted in her panic. She raised her eyes and looked at him unflinchingly as he gently brushed the hair from the tangle of her lashes.

  “This is no Lycan,” he said, turning to the others with his hand lingering in her hair.

  The word aroused instant, gut-wrenching pain. Lycans.... They knew of Gabriel’s group, were possibly members themselves. No, that didn’t seem right. She shook her head, trying to make sense of her thoughts, but they jumbled around in her brain.

  Her ears buzzed, whining like the hum of electronics.

  They closed in, sniffing the air as though scenting some delicacy had been pulled from an oven, ripe for tasting.

  One of the men snatched her hair, twisting her face toward the sky. Jessica gritted her teeth against the pain, raking her nails down his arm until he released her. In a lightning-fast move, his hand snaked out and slapped her, drawing blood from her mouth. Her lips throbbed with biting pain. She spat out the sickening taste, resisting the urge to rub her mouth to ease the pain.

  He snickered, shaking his arm. “She bleeds. I say we eat her and then continue on to their gathering place. This hunt was not nearly as satisfying as I wished.”

  Another audibly sniffed the air. “I smell Lycan cock and pussy ... and blood. The hunger gnaws, I agree.”

  “You will not touch me,” she ground out, holding her hands as weapons.

  “There is no one to stop us, not even your Lycan lover.”

  The words were a slap in the face. They couldn’t know what she’d done, but they did. She didn’t believe they smelled it--they must have come from that place. “What did you do with him?” she screamed, struggling to her knees. “Where is Gabriel?

  Did you ... kill him?” Her voice broke. She choked down a sob.

  “She cries,” a male said, snickering.

  One of the men spoke up, “We’d be happy to oblige you by killing him if you’ll show us the way.”

  “Her pussy smells sweet. Lycan coats her skin. I wonder if the little bitch tastes as good as she smells. I say again, we should eat her and let the master find his own kill. The night grows short.” Menace dripped from his voice.

  She knew in that moment that she was dead. And she was damned well going to take some of them with her. The savagery of her thoughts empowered her.

  Blistering rage surged inside her. Jessica jumped fluidly from her knees with a snarl, running at him with her fingers curled into talons. He laughed, pushing at her as though she were no more threat than an gnat. The laughter died on his lips as she ducked past his arm and came up again, gouging her fingers into his eyes with a scream that scored the lining of her throat. Blood spurted from his lids, lukewarm as it hit her face and rolled down her cheeks. She ignored the instant, fierce nausea, continued crushing his eyes, digging in, trying to find his brain.

  She wasn’t going to die without a fight. She’d hurt them, make them sorry they ever touched her, ever hunted her.

  He screamed and knocked her back. Her brain rattled as she hit a tree trunk. Her head thunked wetly against the harsh bark. Hot blood seeped instantly onto her scalp, tingles crawling through her hair like biting ants. Her eyes crossed, making her dizzy. She closed her eyes against the sickening bile that rose in her throat with a burning tide. She’d become an animal and it had done her no good.

  The vamp she’d attacked screamed again and snarled, “I will kill her now!”

  Something stopped him from attacking--she didn’t look to see what. She was too ill to feel grateful.

  “No,” another said, “This one intrigues. She smells and acts almost ... Lycan. We take her to the master.”

  Someone grabbed her arms suddenly, hauled her roughly to her feet. Her legs were weak, unable to support her weight. She struggled to keep her feet under her as she opened her eyes to another wave of nausea, and then felt her heart stop as she looked at the blood blackened face looming above her. He snarled at her, baring sharp teeth that gleamed in the light, but that wasn’t what sent the icy dread slithering through her bloodstream.

  His eyes ... his eyes were back.

  She’d crushed them, felt them pop beneath her nails. Her fingers were covered in sticky gore.

  He grinned at her, as if reading her thoughts, snapping his jaws menacingly at her face. Jessica struggled against him, frantic to get away, clawing at his arms, his neck, anywhere she could reach. His hands tightened on her, cutting off the blood flow to her hands. She winced from the pain.

  She knew then that Gabriel’s tales had been true. There were monsters in the night.

  And she was their prisoner.

  * * *

  No one knew what he’d done, that he’d marked Jessica in the most primal of ways.

  Gabriel had sliced his thigh and smeared his own blood on his groin, masking the scent of her before rinsing off once more.

  Unbelievably, it had worked. He’d felt invigorated from their joining, fiercer than ever to defend his right to claim her as mate.

  The fights came faster, easier, but they still wore him down.

  Now he’d accomplished something few had ever seen in their territory--he’d triumphed over every challenger without serious h
arm to himself.

  Gabriel was weary beyond belief, his mind was spent, exhausted. The tight warmth of her body, the sweet taste of her kiss glimmered in memory alone, swallowed by the effort to survive. Every blow made Jessica safer, every strike insured she covered more distance.

  He stood now, in the clearing, alone. After what seemed like an eternity, the challengers had ceased to come. His chest visibly rose and fell, pronouncing the taut line of his body, his rigid, wary stance. Blood dripped from his fingers, trickled from lacerations in his flesh, slowly healing with feverish sped.

  Deron stepped forward into the clearing, regarding Gabriel with clear admiration.

  “You have done well, Gabriel.” He looked around the circle of their brethren. “Are there no others left who wish to challenge him for the right to the girl?”

  They were silent, as one. The challenge was over.

  “Claim your woman,” Deron said to Gabriel.

  The pack roared with approval, calling to his inner beast. A wind sighed through the gathering, carrying with it a sense of completion and victory. He tilted his face and looked toward the setting moon, wondering if he could find Jessica again, unbelieving that the ordeal was finally over.

  The stars blotted from the sky a brief moment as a black shape crossed his line of vision.

  Gabriel ducked and rolled as it swooped over his head, coming up baring his claws.

  He growled in warning, tensing to jump.

  “Peace, Lycan. I bring a message for the one called Gabriel,” the vampire said with barely repressed amusement.

  “I am Gabriel,” he snarled, his hackles standing on end. Never had the vampires dared to invade the luna clearing.

  The vamp looked him over. “My master bids me to tell you we have your woman.

  If you wish her return, come to le Ventre de le Diable in Vieux Carre tomorrow night.

  If any Lycan should be seen before then, we will kill her.”

  Before Gabriel could wrap his hands around the smug vampire’s throat, he leapt into the air and disappeared in the black sky.