Burning Dawn

  She sniffled. "That's so beautiful."

  "And true."

  She traced a finger over his lips. "You are a good man, Thane-- What is your last name?"

  "I don't have one. Up here, we have designations. Xerxes the Cruel and Unusual. Bjorn the Last True Dread."

  "Those are kind of creepy, but, okay. I can roll. Before she cut ties with her clan, my mother was Renlay the Deathtax Collector, and my bedtime stories were of her exploits."

  "Did she tell you why she left the Phoenix?"

  "Yes. My dad. Eric Wahlstrom. He lived in Harrogate at the time, and she was crazy in lust at her first sighting of him. Which must have been strange, because you have never seen a more mismatched pair. She was wild; he was proper. She was loud; he was quiet. But even still, he fell for her, and she had her wicked way with him. Afterward, she thought she'd be able to forget him."

  He could hear the affection in her tone, knew she'd adored the man. "But she didn't."

  "No. She didn't. She kept going back to him, and one day she realized she had to make a choice. Him or her clan. Mixed relationships aren't encouraged but aren't forbidden, as long as they're with someone of an equally strong or stronger race. Humans, as I'm sure you know, are a big, fat no-no. It's okay to take one as a lover, but never a mate. She chose him, and I was born a year later. I spent the first ten years of my life in Harrogate."

  "That explains the accent."

  "I do not have an accent. Once we moved to Arizona, and all the little kids made fun of the bloody Brit," she said, using the same mocking tone the kids must have used with her, "I feared my mother would slay them all. So, I learned how to blend in."

  He might have slayed them all, too. "It's slight, but it's there." His voice dipped as he added, "It only comes out when you're aroused."

  She chuckled. "You are racking up all kinds of rewards." She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck. "So, backtracking. You are Thane the...what?"

  "Thane of the Three."

  "Oh. Well, that's kind of anticlimactic."

  "Disappointed?"

  "Kind of. Sorry to tell you this, but I think you need a new one."

  He was her man. He wanted her proud of him. "Most people assume the three refers to Xerxes and Bjorn, but I had the name before I knew the men." He added, "The three actually refers to the ways I kill. Dead. Deader. And purged from all eternity."

  "I don't know whether to be scared...or pleased."

  "I vote for pleased."

  "My mother would have voted for pleased, too," she said.

  He grinned almost shyly. "Do you think your mother would have liked me?"

  "There are the dimples I adore," she said, brightening.

  She adored them, and so he would make sure she saw them. Often. "Your mother," he prompted, anxious to know.

  "She wouldn't have liked you."

  He didn't allow his hurt to show.

  "She would have loved you," Elin added.

  Another grin--another flash of the dimples, he was sure. The word loved echoed in his mind. As if he were worthy of such an emotion.

  He wasn't. But I can make myself.

  I will.

  *

  DARK CURSES CUT through the air.

  Thane's rage-infused voice roused Elin from a deep, peaceful sleep. She blinked open her eyes, and saw that he was thrashing on his side of the bed, the covers kicked off and bunched at his feet.

  As he hurtled more curses, he clawed at his chest. His nails scraped away skin, like shovels scraped away dirt. His fingers burrowed in the open grooves. As if...as if...

  Her stomach twisted. "Thane." She gently patted his cheek. "Wake up, baby."

  His arm shot up. His fingers wrapped around her neck and squeezed. Squeezed so tightly she couldn't breathe. Couldn't even wheeze.

  She latched on to his wrist and tugged--but he was so strong, he didn't budge. He only squeezed that much harder.

  Pain...then light-headedness...

  Was this the way she would die?

  In a last-ditch effort to free herself, she batted at his face.

  Weakness...

  Her fingers ended up in his mouth, and for whatever reason, that snapped him to his senses. He blinked, shook his head.

  His gaze met hers, and widened with horror.

  He released her as if he'd just discovered she was nuclear waste, panting, "Elin, Elin. I'm so sorry."

  She sagged against him.

  He held on to her as she sucked in mouthful after mouthful of air. He even tightened his hold, as though she was a life raft amid a fierce storm--as though he feared she would run off at any moment.

  Not nuclear waste after all.

  His heartbeat thundered against her chest. "I'm so sorry," he repeated.

  "It's okay, baby," she said, petting him. "You didn't do any permanent damage." A few weeks ago, a choking coupled with the sight of torn flesh would have sent her into a screaming fit. But honestly? She wasn't the person she used to be. She was the girl her mother had always hoped she'd be.

  She didn't need to use anyone for anything. She was strong, in both mind and body. Proof: she had battled crazed demons. She had gone toe-to-toe with a team of adrenaline-junkie vampyras and purposely stood in the way of raining boulders.

  A little suffocation? Whatevs.

  A full-body tremor rocked him. "I could have... I shouldn't have stayed here...should have left you alone. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

  Lightbulb. He hadn't wanted to share a room with her because he suffered frequent, and violent, nightmares. Inside her, a well of tenderness bubbled over. "I'm glad I'm here." The thought of him dealing with this alone nearly broke her heart.

  "Tell me," she said. "About the dream."

  He stiffened but replied, "Not a dream."

  Then... "A memory?"

  He released her and climbed from the bed. Naked, he stalked to the closet and withdrew a robe. No, two robes. After he dressed, he pulled her upright and tugged the other one over her head, tenderly freeing her hair before fitting her arms through the sleeves.

  So...conversations about the nightmare/memories were a no-go. Got it. And it kind of hurt, after everything they'd already shared. But at least he'd gifted her with a robe from his personal stash rather than forcing her to wear something from the skank parade.

  Meow. Jealous, anyone?

  Why was she so upset, anyway? He was only giving her more of what she'd originally asked for. Sex without entanglement.

  Yeah, but that wasn't what he had pushed for or what they had ultimately agreed on. They were part of a full-on commitment now, and he would just have to live with the consequences.

  "Thane." She clasped on to his wrists, maintaining a physical connection with him. "Talk to me."

  He wouldn't meet her gaze.

  "You can trust me. I'll never share your secrets."

  He lifted her hands to his mouth, kissed the knuckles on both. "We are going to the treasure chest, and you are going to pick the furniture you want for your room. I know you don't want to stay there, but you're going to do it anyway."

  Strike one. But okay. She could tackle this from a different angle and launch a sneak attack via the room situation. Without the hurt of rejection, thinking he didn't want her in his personal space because she meant so little, she was touched that he wanted her so close to him. But three things bothered her. One, the nightmares. He shouldn't have to suffer alone. And he did suffer. The torment in his eyes... Poor Thane. Two, the terrible memories he'd created in the other room. Although, it might be time to make new memories in there. And three, the condition of his bedroom. He wanted to keep her in luxury and deprive himself. Why?

  Complicated immortal. Far more than she'd ever expected. He punished his enemies without mercy--perhaps this was a punishment to himself. But for what?

  Whatever the problem, whatever he'd done or not done, she only wanted good things for him from now on.

  "All right," she said. "We can go to the treasu
re chest, and I will pick out things for the other room."

  Relief bathed his expression. He smiled at her, baring those beautiful dimples.

  Now, to go in for the kill. "But," she added, and he stiffened again. "I get to decorate this room, as well."

  He opened his mouth, probably to protest.

  "I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot of time in here, and I want to be comfortable." She was already comfortable, but she was beginning to think he would put her needs, and even her wants, above his own.

  The thought...charmed her. Humbled her. Terrified her.

  How was she supposed to deal with something like that?

  After a few minutes of clear internal debate, he nodded. "Very well. Both rooms."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THANE WAS UTTERLY ENTHRALLED.

  Elin took her role as decorator very seriously. She'd made him find a notepad and a pen to keep track of her ideas and plans. Now, as she prowled through the massive chamber, her brow furrowed with concentration. Sometimes she paused to chew on the end of the pen and ponder, sometimes to write down instructions. She seemed to be on a life-and-death mission, and even had conversations with herself.

  Should I put this here? Or there?

  Neither. I like the dresser with the stained glass better.

  Dang it, what would the Property Brothers pick?

  His eyes narrowed. Who were the Property Brothers to her?

  Surrounded as she was by untold wealth, priceless and colorful jewels, and precious antiques, all while wearing his white robe, she was like a queen of old.

  One hour passed. Two.

  He said not a word. He wasn't interested in rushing her. There was joy and peace in watching her.

  Another hour passed.

  "Thane," she said, her voice husky with promise--the same tone she used whenever he was inside her.

  He shook his wings. "Yes, Elin."

  With her back to him, dark hair flowing freely, she glanced over her shoulder and grinned slowly...wickedly. The strength of his reaction to her no longer shocked him. His muscles knotted. His blood heated. His need grew. She's made for me. Mine.

  "I won't know if this is the bed of my dreams until I test it." As she spoke, she brushed the robe from her shoulders.... The material pooled on the floor, leaving her gloriously naked.

  The sight of her proved to be his undoing. Need raged as he drank her in. The elegant line of her back. The two indentations above her buttocks. The graceful length of her legs.

  She turned, facing him fully, and he was treated to a full-frontal assault.

  His mouth went dry.

  She eased onto the mattress, sitting, planting her feet on the floor--and widening her knees.

  She was a seductress. A temptress.

  "Come to me," she beseeched.

  He walked toward her, as if in a daze, discarding his robe along the way. When he reached her, he made to drop to his knees. She placed her hands on his hips, stopping him.

  "Stay just...like...this." She flashed him another wicked smile as she dropped to her knees.

  He was already hard as steel but stiffened further with anticipation. Then her mouth descended on him. Searing heat. Dizzying suction. He almost spilled but managed to hold back--have to have more of this. He leaned over and braced his hands on the bed. Over and over she worked him. Up and down. Up and down. Taking him deep, deeper, so amazingly deep.

  When he realized her fingers were playing between her legs, revving up her own desires, he began to rock into her, and couldn't stop himself. Control? Ceded to her or shredded--he wasn't sure which. Though he tried to be gentle, so gentle, not wanting to gag her or hurt her. But the gentleness didn't last long. Her tongue stroked him, and he rocked harder. Harder still. But even that wasn't enough. He had to have more.

  Muscles knotted further.... The heat...oh, the heat...combined with the suction and tongue swirls and the knowledge of just who was responsible for his pleasure... The pressure inside him broke, opening the floodgates. He roared, loud and long, his climax shooting through him. He straightened to cup Elin's cheeks, to hold her to him as he gave her every drop.

  She shuddered with the force of her own climax. And when she stilled, had to swallow a groan. He was sensitive now, every sensation almost too much. Their eyes met.

  Shaking, he helped her stand.

  "I was out of practice, but good, yeah?" she said with a grin. Her eyes sparkled, like stars in a night-dark sky.

  "No words," he croaked, and felt her grin widen against his chest. "Wait. Maybe one. Grateful."

  "To me or to Bay?"

  The husband had taught her that nifty little skill? "Both." Thane couldn't manage a single thrum of jealousy this time. Elin might have learned from the male, but for the rest of her life, Thane would be the one to reap the benefits.

  Two words snagged his attention. Her life.

  How much longer did she have?

  He'd told her not to worry. Worry did no good. Ultimately, it helped nothing and destroyed everything. But it never hurt to be prepared. How could he ensure an eternity with Elin? By making her fully immortal.

  How could he make her fully immortal?

  Thane knew a little about the ways of the Phoenix. Immortality came with the first death. However old the warrior was when he--or she--died the first time. That was the age the warrior forever stayed. Babies, toddlers and preteens rarely regenerated.

  Elin was twenty-one. She was still a little young. And the fact that she was diluted with human blood...

  He would have given anything for her to be a full-Phoenix, he realized. Absolutely anything.

  He helped her dress before tugging a robe over his head. "We never actually tested the bed."

  "Close enough." She wagged her eyebrows at him, then her shoulders. "I now know I gots to have it."

  Humor restored, he said, "You have what you need from here?"

  "Yes. But be warned. You are going to be so completely gobsmacked when you see the finished rooms."

  He had no doubt. She thrived at everything she did. "There are errands I must run, but Adrian will be at your disposal, and he will make sure all of your selections are moved wherever you want them."

  She pouted for a moment. "I'm not thrilled with the idea of forcing Adrian to do my bidding. Why can't you do it? Where are you going?"

  "I have a meeting with my leader."

  "The Most High?"

  "Two spots lower on the totem. A Sent One by the name of Zacharel."

  "You're not in trouble, are you?"

  "No," he said. "Why? What would you do if I was?"

  "Go with you and throw my pimp-hand around. No one punishes my man but me."

  My man.

  She'd just verbally claimed him. Grinning, he picked her up and swung her around. "Thank you. The thought is enough."

  She laughed, and he laughed, and it was a carefree moment forever branded in his heart.

  When he set her down, she said, "Oh, and here's another warning. I plan to invite the girls into your suite."

  He liked the other girls, respected them, even, but didn't relish spending his time with them. However, they were dear to Elin, and he wouldn't keep her from them; so, for her, he would learn to deal. "Very well."

  "Wait. I'm not sure you understand. They're going to touch everything and drink everything in your wet bar, and you won't be able to lecture them or punish them."

  "I understand."

  Rising on her tiptoes, she placed a soft, sweet kiss on his chin. "Don't worry. I won't let them inside your room. That's just for you. And sometimes me."

  There at the end, her voice had taken on a fierceness he'd never heard from her. He liked it and what it implied. If necessary, she would fight for her place in his life.

  She would fight for him.

  "Only you and me," he agreed.

  *

  ELIN WORKED LIKE a madwoman, determined to get everything done before Thane returned. She also worked her friend
s to the bone, including Adrian. No longer did she feel quite so bad about forcing people to do her bidding.

  This was for Thane. Anything goes.

  But the berserker bailed the moment all the furniture was in place. Chanel, Octavia and Savy bailed soon after that, muttering about "bridezilla without the bride." As if! Elin was the sweetest person on earth, thank you.

  Just not in the skies.

  Now it was just a matter of putting the vases, bowls and jewels in their appropriate places. Had to be perfect.

  Throughout the day, Thane kept her informed of his whereabouts, sending private whispers through her mind. Every time, she stopped whatever she was doing and grinned.

  Bellorie dubbed it "sickening."

  So far, Thane had visited with his leader, Zacharel, and talked with Lucien. Now, he was with a group of Sent Ones, including Bjorn and Xerxes, out hunting the demon prince.

  "I'm thinking about having portraits commissioned," she said as she filled one of the crystal bowls with eight rubies the size of her fist. Should she add a few sapphires for effect? Or maybe string beads of ebony from the side?

  "Excellent idea," Bellorie said, settling atop the new bed in the room formerly known as Bang and Bail Central. "You should totally dress up as the queen of the castle and hang portraits of yourself in every room of the club, proving you outshine every woman but, of course, me."

  "Of course." And it wasn't a terrible idea, actually. A bold declaration that Thane was taken, and biatches better beware. Not that Elin wanted to be that girl. If she couldn't trust Thane, she didn't need to be with him. But still. Letting her portrait-gaze follow every female in the bar appealed greatly. "For right now, I should probably concentrate on portraits of Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes."

  "Sure, sure," Bellorie said with a nod. "But there's one little problem. They'd never sit still for more than a few minutes."

  Thane might, if Elin asked nicely. The man seemed so eager to please her. In fact, she'd never been so pampered, and she loved it. But she wanted him to feel pampered, too.

  "I'll have to find a painter good enough to work from a few glances."

  Bellorie thought for a moment. "Well, I have a friend, Anya the Great and Terrible, aka the minor goddess of Anarchy. She's getting hitched to that scarred dude Lucien. Remember him? Anyhoodles, all you have to do is tell her exactly who--whom?--you want painted, and she can have something created within the hour. I don't know how she does it, and I won't ask."