She thrust a second time, this time driving the point of her blade right into the eye. The shark opened its mouth, thrashing wildly, nose and tail wreaking havoc in the water. More blood floated away, creating a thin thread much like a bloody worm trailing through the water. Dragomir caught her around the waist and pushed her in front of him. She held tight to his arm and let go of the dream.
Usually she could force her eyes open and the dream ended. It wasn't quite that simple now, not with the sun still in the sky. It took a few moments to open her eyes and then she was completely, utterly panicked. She was buried alive. She had to get out. She had to dig her way out. It took forever to get her hands moving, to try to rip away the soil, but already she was choking, breathing loose dirt into her lungs.
Suddenly the dirt over her head opened and she found herself staring at the ceiling of the basement in her house. Breathing heavily, she tried to roll, coughing.
Breathe normally. There is no dirt in your lungs. It is only your human imagination. Dragomir's voice was gentle and soothing. Turn your head and see me.
She didn't want to just in case he was wrong and she was alone, buried in the earth. She was lying a good six or eight feet under the soil. It was pitch-black there under the ground, the floorboards of the basement stacked to one side neatly, waiting for the command to rebuild. She could look all the way up to the ceiling, and see with her enhanced night vision.
Sivamet, this is a simple thing I have asked of you.
It was--and yet it wasn't. Her heart pounded so loudly it sounded like thunder drumming in her ears, but it was Dragomir and she couldn't find it in her to deny him anything. She turned her head slowly. There he was, his strange golden eyes staring back at her. He was beautiful to her with the scars on his face and that strong, male jaw. Even lying in the dark, rich soil, he looked elegant.
Her gaze moved over him. His arm was chewed up, bloody, now that he was awake. She'd done that. I'm sorry. I should have checked for traps in all the places I was going to take you before I shared the dream.
You are extraordinary, Emeline, and you don't even know it. You didn't even hesitate facing the shark. You've been mapping Vadim's waterways since you were a child and you know them better than he does. There was pride in his voice. Respect.
She found herself smiling at him. I can't swim. Not really. I'm afraid to be in the water because I know what's down there. It was a confession. She was slightly ashamed that she couldn't be like other human beings, swimming on a hot day--or night.
I think you have courage enough for ten people, Emeline. Any more and I would spend an eternity being terrified my woman would do something crazy.
He made her feel whole and happy even in the midst of knowing Vadim and his army could move unseen throughout San Diego. How were they going to destroy him if they couldn't find him? If he had so many exits?
That is the job of the hunters, Emeline. You did your job. You have supplied us with valuable information. We can find and destroy all the places he has built here. There are many of us now, more than he knows. Thanks to you, we have places we can start. From those places, we will find trails to others.
She took a deep breath. It is close to sunset. Just once, I would like to have a night with you when the children, or someone else, are not in danger. Just one night.
His laughter was soft in her mind. I would like that as well. It will happen. We have eternity together. Soon it will be a baby interrupting us at every turn.
Charlotte told me you are making a crib with your own hands. She said Tariq is helping you.
His sigh was heavy in her mind. Then male amusement. Charlotte shouldn't have told you. It was my surprise for you. I like to give you things, and the thought of making something as Tariq has done, made by hand, was appealing to me. I thought about what I wanted it to look like as well as what we could incorporate to keep Carisma safe.
She said dragons.
You like dragons, so that seemed something I could use. The male was easy enough to carve, but the female, making her look beautiful and deadly at the same time, capturing that look in wood has been a challenge.
When are you doing this? You are always with me.
We really don't have quite as many warrior councils as I've led you to believe.
She found herself laughing. Laughing. It had to be closer to sunset than she realized because the sound filled the basement beneath her home. She licked her lips. "You're terrible."
"You fell for it."
"I thought lifemates couldn't tell lies to each other."
He rolled. Stretched. He looked delicious with his muscles rippling powerfully beneath his skin. "Only, apparently, when surprises are involved."
He bunched her hair in his fist and turned her face fully toward him so he could take her mouth. Heat rolled through her. His mouth was paradise. He knew how to kiss, and she gave herself up to the exquisite beauty of his mouth on hers. Kissing over and over. Igniting a fire in her that couldn't be put out unless his body was in hers.
He gathered her into his arms and then she was floating, his mouth working hers. Commanding. Demanding. So hot she was afraid she'd catch fire and burn before they were on the bed, their bodies clean, his healed. She loved that they could do that. Simply think about being clean and fresh and then they were.
He all but tossed her in the middle of the bed and came down on his knees, his hands on either side of her head. "Did I mention I love you?" Even as he asked the question he leaned down and licked at her nipples. First one then the other, making them peak. His mouth closed over her left breast, suckling, pulling strongly, and then her right.
She was sensitive, and his mouth was merciless, hot enough to scorch. He used the edge of his teeth and instantly her body was spilling liquid heat in invitation. He caught her ankles and twisted, rolling her over onto her stomach. He leaned forward again and bit her left cheek.
"You look lovely and very tasty, Emeline. I don't know whether I want to devour you or be inside that hot, tight body." He caught her hips and yanked her bottom back toward him so that she was on her knees. He pressed her head to the mattress with one hand, fingers circling her nape to hold her in position. She was supporting herself on her forearms, her face pressed tight to the mattress, looking back at him over her shoulder. Her body pulsed in anticipation. He hadn't had to do much--just wake up--and she wanted him.
His hand was there, testing her readiness. She heard his growl of satisfaction. "I love when you're like this. So wet for me."
She pushed back against his hand. "I'm totally wet for you," she whispered. "I want you so much I can barely breathe." That was true. Her lungs burned for air. She felt raw. Exposed. She didn't care that he knew how much she wanted him. She knew he was the same way. She loved the way he held her so easily, his fingers stroking and teasing, bringing her close, moving away so that she cried out in demand, her fists gathering the comforter into her palms. It was a beautiful ache. A hunger that grew and grew. She loved that so much.
Then his mouth was there, his tongue wicked and sinful, stroking, flicking, stabbing deep. He suckled, drew out honey and then raked her clit gently with his teeth.
"Dragomir." She could barely get his name out. A demand.
"Don't know what you want, sivamet. You're going to have to be specific."
She loved that, too. More liquid heat spilled out for his tongue to catch. "You in me." She was panting so hard, her breath so ragged she could barely talk.
"My tongue is in you," he said and lapped at the fresh wave of honey. "Mmm, you taste so good. Maybe you want my fingers." He replaced his tongue with first one finger, then two, pushing deep into her scorching-hot, very tight sheath.
She gave a groan of sheer frustration. "Not your fingers. I want your cock." She blushed when she said it, but she knew that was what he wanted, and in giving that to him, she found her body hotter than ever.
She couldn't tear her eyes from him as he knelt up, his hand circling the girth of his cock, his eyes on
her. She wiggled, pushed back, trying to get him to hurry. He leaned down and bit her again. The shock of that sting sent another fresh wave of honey spilling out so that she was certain her inner thighs were glistening.
"Please, honey," she whispered. "Right now. Hurry."
"You want gentle?" He lodged the head of his cock in her entrance, giving her just enough to make her feel as if he was stretching her, but not enough to fill her.
Frustrated, she pushed back again, trying to impale herself on him. "I'm going up in flames. I need you right now." This time, along with the pleading little sob there was demand.
He laughed and surged into her. Hard. Fire streaked through her. White lightning. At the angle he had her, holding her helpless, he could power deep, his shaft a piston, moving in and out while flames poured over her skin and into her veins. It was good, so good. Better than she could ever have conceived.
She loved that teasing laugh. Almost carefree. She'd given him that. She watched the beauty on his face. Those hard lines and the scars softened, only to be replaced by a mixture of lust and love carved deep. There in the molten gold of his eyes. It was beautiful to see. That tension rising in him just as it coiled in her. Hot and bright, a fierce loving burn.
Then she couldn't think, only feel. He took her up so high, only to stop just short of letting her tip over the edge. Over and over again, until her body was so ready, so coiled. Until tension stretched her beyond her breaking point. She could hear the sob in her voice. The demand. The promise of retaliation. But the look on his face, that fallen angel skating so close to heaven, to paradise, was as much a reward as the desperate hunger in her body.
Tied vogyok, ainaak. Tet vigyazam. Peje mica.
He murmured something. She caught the words Tet vigyazam and knew it meant "I love you." She wasn't certain what else he'd said, but the way he'd said it was beautiful. His hair fell around his face like a beautiful Renaissance painting. He stole her breath. Her heart. Her soul. She knew she did the same for him. She didn't know why or how, only that for him, she was special. He made her feel that way every moment.
She couldn't speak, not with her heart so full, not with lightning zinging through her veins and that unbearable pleasure coiling so tightly she thought she might go insane. I love you, Dragomir, but I need . . .
I know exactly what you need.
His body kept moving in hers. Hard and fast and so deep she felt so connected to him, felt they lived in the same skin. She kept her eyes on him, her cheek pressed to the mattress, his hand on her neck, collaring her. She felt her heartbeat surrounding him, pulsing and gripping. His heartbeat answered, throbbing like a drum in her deepest core.
His face. That face--her fallen angel. So beautiful to her. She watched the rush come over him. The way his eyes darkened and the gold turned antique. The way the lines of lust and love carved deeper, giving him a look of pure sensuality. His fingers tightened on her neck and hip.
"Now, mica. With me now."
His shaft swelled in her, stretching her tight muscles, the burn adding to the terrible, brutal beauty of the friction, of that steel spike moving in and out of her. His command whispered in that silken voice, hot and husky with need, sent her careening over the edge. Hot seed poured into her, bathing the walls of her sheath. She was flung into the sky. Free-falling. Soaring. It was as terrifying as it was beautiful.
Her orgasm went on and on, tearing through her with a force she'd never known. Taking every cell by storm. All the while she watched his face, watched what it did to him. Such perfection. She could only hang on to the comforter with both fists and ride out into the night sky with him.
He was there, surrounding her with his protection. To catch her when she came tumbling down, gasping for breath, heart exploding, so far gone she wasn't sure who she was, where she was. Only that he was there. That face. His hands, stroking her, soothing her. His mouth, whispering to her, kissing his way up her spine. His cock, inside her, tying them together, giving her love with every stroke. Giving her ecstasy. Just simply giving her--everything.
He withdrew, and she cried out as his heavy cock slid over the bundle of sensitized nerves, setting off another strong wave of ripples. His arms went around her and he pulled her down to her side, his body curling protectively around hers. One hand went to her belly, where their child was growing.
"Every time I touch you, it is a miracle." He nuzzled her hair aside with his chin. The brush of the bristles of the shadow on his jaw sent yet another round of heat and ripples careening through her. "Your skin is incredibly soft. I thought of you so many times over the centuries, but the reality is so much better than anything I could ever have conceived of."
"I didn't dare hope to dream of someone like you," she admitted. Her lashes drifted down so she could savor him. Savor the scent of him, the feel of his body against hers and his arms, so strong, surrounding her. She felt safe. In her life, she didn't remember a single time before him when she'd ever felt safe. Now she equated that with him.
He kissed the nape of her neck, gently put her on her back. He stayed on his side, bending over her, waiting until she opened her eyes. His hair fell in long waves around both of them, brushing her skin as he kissed her eyes, brushed her nose, and then his mouth settled on hers, causing the flight of a thousand butterflies in her stomach. He kissed his way down her throat to her breasts, spent a few minutes there and continued to her belly button. His tongue strayed, did a quick foray and then he was whispering to the baby in his own language. Talking to her. Reassuring her.
Love swamped Emeline. So much she couldn't contain the emotion. It filled her heart and soul and spilled over so that she didn't know what to do with so much feeling. She could only stroke his hair with trembling fingers, and vow to herself that as much as he gave her, she would find a way to give him the same.
"You give me as much or more every minute in your company," Dragomir whispered against her skin. He kissed the pooch where the baby nestled. "You've given me a child. What greater gift is there? You've given me your love, your heart and soul. You've given me you. There is nothing else, Emeline. You are my miracle."
"This from a man who carves dragons for our child's crib." She didn't want to cry. Blood tears were messy. "I know you have to go to your council thingy, but would you teach me to do the clothing thing? And flying? And maybe cleaning house?"
He laughed and rolled to the side of the bed, keeping her hand. "Just picture what you want to wear in your head. Have the image of you fresh and clean from a shower, your hair washed and dry. The details are the most difficult. Just pay attention to every detail."
Emeline wrinkled her nose. Could it really be that easy? She pictured herself clean and fresh and added a dress of soft white covered in delicate red roses. It had been one of her favorites in a catalogue she'd looked at almost daily. She chose it because she remembered every detail. She found herself wearing it, the soft material falling around her ankles, flowing in swirls when she jumped up, shocked and excited that it had worked. "I did it. I can't believe I actually did it." She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him. Of course he was fully clothed and looking perfect. "I'm going to clean every room. It's good practice. Then I'm going to talk to Liv about dragons and how to fly them."
He kissed her. "Housecleaning--okay. Talking to Liv about flying dragons--absolutely not. That child is in enough trouble without you helping her get into more." He stalked to the door, that other Dragomir already taking over. The one that was intimidating and scary. The dangerous predator that moved with fluid power over the ground and through buildings. The one that took her breath just as easily as the one that treated her so gently.
He paused at the door and turned back to her. "Before you go outside, sivamet, you might want to add undergarments. Personally, I like you without panties and a bra, but I'm not so certain you will be as thrilled when someone else notices."
She watched the door close and then burst out laughing, hugging the baby, knowing she w
as truly happy for the first time.
18
The breeze stirred the leaves on the ground, throwing them playfully into the air. Dirt, cement and debris were piled high in the alley just behind the deserted building. The entire block of empty stores looked like a ghost town. The slight breeze used the alley as a private playground, lightly touching the debris, rifling through it. The wind slipped across the dirty glass of the windows, as if peering in, looking to see what state the shops were left in when people abandoned their businesses.
Dragomir circled one way, using the breeze to carry him where he wanted to go. Sandu and Ferro moved around the outside of the buildings from the main street, each searching for signs of vampire activity. Andor took the roof. The hunters were traveling in packs, spreading out through the city, following the underground map Emeline had laid out for them. She'd given it to Dragomir, leaving it in his mind after she'd pulled him into her dream.
Tariq and Maksim stayed in the compound surrounded by the human security force. With their women, they began teaching the children, the Waltons, Genevieve and Emeline as well as the security force how best to slay vampires. The drills had begun in earnest. It wouldn't matter that they were children, women or humans, they were in the fight to stay alive and keep others safe. To do that, they needed to know how.
Carpathians had always been hunters. They had other skills, but it was ingrained in each of them that they had to hunt the vampire or any other threat to their people. They were born with the drive. In some it was stronger than in others, but no matter what, they hunted, found the enemy and destroyed him. It wasn't personal. There was no sense of fairness, no rules. It simply was. They locked on to a target and they destroyed it.
Five ancients made up Dragomir's pack. They had hunted together many times and were used to the way one another thought. They had taken one another's blood and could communicate together separately from the common path of the Carpathian people, which gave them an advantage since the vampires couldn't hear them.
It was their good luck that when they put out the call, others from the brotherhood answered. Benedik had joined them. He made up the fifth man in Dragomir's pack. He was as cold as ice, with unique midnight black eyes that never blinked. He made his way around the block, coming in from the other side of the alley.