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Eternal Kiss (Mark of the Vampire #2) - Page 30/37

Nicholas removed his clothes and slipped into bed beside her, breathing deep as he felt the warmth of her skin curl around him, sheltering him, easing him from the rage and uncertainty of al that happened downstairs. His hand went immediately around her waist, and he slowly pulled her back against him. An almost imperceptible growl escaped his throat. Her round bottom fit so tightly against his groin, the curve of her back was pressed softly against his chest, and her hair, scented with a night of blissful sex, teased his face and the brands on his cheeks.

He was caught between wanting to make love to her again, and just holding her, tel ing himself that she belonged to him.

"Kate," he whispered near her ear, "are you awake?"

"Yes," she returned, her voice soft, yet devoid of al the pleasure he'd heard in it earlier.

Concern flooded him. "Are you al right? What is it?"

"Nothing. I . . . I just want to sleep."

He didn't believe her. "Kate-"

"No." She grabbed his arm, the arm that was around her waist, and pulled it closer beneath her breasts. "No talking.

Please. Just hold me."

Encouraging veanas to bare their feelings aloud wasn't Nicholas's way, but this was Kate. His Kate. And not knowing what was going on in her mind, what pained her knowing what was going on in her mind, what pained her heart at that moment, made him crazy. He would fix it, always, whatever it was that hurt her. And yet she wasn't asking that of him. She wanted his arms around her and his breath against her neck.

And so he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. For tonight, he would be stil and at ease because tomorrow would bring with it a mountain of uncertainty, and the fate and freedom of two vampires he cared for more than anything in the world.

It had snowed overnight, and the morning light in Washington Square Park was lovely. Kate made her way toward the Garibaldi Monument, passing trees frosted with white, joggers puffing out steam, people crossing the park to get to work, and babies being pushed by tired moms and nannies.

Nicholas and his brothers were in the tunnels, had been since dawn-since he had left her bed. They were training for the night's battle, and had taken Ladd with them. In any other circumstance, Kate might have objected to a boy so young learning fighting techniques and combat strategy, but he was a descendant of the Breeding Male. The battlefield was in his blood. Besides, Nicholas was the only family he had left, and seeing them bonded was far more important to her than protecting the balas's tender age and sensibilities.

After all, tonight she would be gone, and unable to protect him any longer.

As she approached the monument, she spotted Cambridge, his red hair a beacon in al the white, circling the bronze statue like a rat with an inner-ear problem. When he noticed her, he stopped, his eyes flickering in every direction.

"I don't like working against the Romans," he said, coming toward her.

"You're not working against anyone," she said tightly.

"You're working for me. Besides, you don't care who you work for as long as you get paid."

He didn't dispute that. "That paven of yours know where you are and why?"

"He's not my paven." The words felt wrong exiting her lips.

"Didn't look like that to me."

"Well, then, maybe you need your eyebal s removed and given a good cleaning. I think I remember a fel ow in Mondrar who did that kind of work." Her brows lifted. "Ebox, wasn't it?"

Cambridge recoiled. "Do not speak to me of that vile thing. I couldn't see or hear for a week after he attacked me."

"Then let's get this done," she said, her tone rigid. She wanted it over. She wanted to be on her way, wanted to start forgetting this city and everyone in it as soon as possible.

"You must understand," Cambridge began, "Mondalagua is underground, beneath the water. Can you live in the dark again?"

She looked up at the monument of Giuseppe Garibaldi, a freedom fighter of sorts and said, "I can live anywhere I'm free."

"Five o'clock tonight at Pier 90," Cambridge said quickly.

"You have five grand?"

Her gut clenched. "Al I have is three."

"Fine. Bring the three thousand and you'l be taken . . .

home."

Home. The word stabbed at her insides. For one glorious night, she'd thought that maybe she had a home, with Nicholas and Ladd.

She nodded at Cambridge. "I'll be there."

When Ethan Dare landed in Cruen's reality, he could feel the change, the shift in the Supreme One's mood and purpose immediately. Gone were the homelike beach setting, the paintings, the bed and chairs, even the plant life. The only things that remained were sand and water.

Cruen was nowhere to be seen and Ethan glanced around looking for Pearl, nervous energy kicking around inside his gut. He should've taken her with him the last time he was there. Oh God, his child . . .

His eyes caught on movement a mile down the beach, near the water's edge. Squinting, he walked toward it. The sand was blisteringly hot, as was the sun, a perfect storm for being cooked alive. As he started to make out the lines of a pregnant female, he closed his eyes and flashed, taking form directly in front of her.

Pearl gasped when she saw him. "He's gone," she choked out, sweating profusely, her hair plastered to her face and neck. "And there's something here, something watching me."

"Don't worry. I'm taking you."

She shook her head. "When the Supreme One returns and finds me gone . . ."

"He won't find you," Ethan assured her.

"Ethan!" she cried, her eyes fixed on something behind him.

Ethan whirled around, saw a massive figure charging toward them on al fours. As he got closer, Ethan recognized him as the Beast he'd seen with Cruen a few days ago. Long black hair, white diamond eyes, death and destruction in his expression.

Erion.

Wrapping his body around Pearl, Ethan flashed.

When he landed outside his newest compound, his mind spun with what he'd just seen. Cruen was gone, and he'd left that monster behind to clean up his mess.

Ethan's veins were growing hungry again, the power beginning to deplete. Cruen would never feed him again, but he might come cal ing. And if he did, Ethan needed to have a plan in place.

He needed a bargaining chip.



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