Immortal Redeemed

The woman he was with felt things on a major scale. Her cry was just one example of that.

Slowly he worked his fingers farther inside the waistband of her jeans, pausing when he reached the thin barrier of lace beneath. McKenna’s lingerie was delicate, ultra-feminine and way too fragile for a male with a mission. Delicacies like this were contrary to the kind of life he had endured, which made that scrap of fabric so very much more intriguing.

The woman beneath him snaked an arm around his waist. She raked his skin lightly with her fingernails and bit down on his lower lip with her tiny white teeth.

Christ. He was hard as steel. He was ready to take her and had to hold back, bide his time, sure a soul like hers needed to be confronted carefully in order for him to glean its secrets. If he went too far, too fast, crucial clues might be missed. He might fail altogether in his objective for coming here, and lose ground. Then again, maybe she was just a really attractive woman.

He didn’t want to rush this in any case. But neither could he afford to get lost in the challenge. Focus had to be maintained when his willpower had already started to dissipate. McKenna’s hands were like ribbons of molten lava, trapping him midway between lust and purpose. Those hands were heading toward his shoulder blades, a place no woman had visited since his only real love had pressed her lips there in goodbye.

McKenna was going to break that record if she had her way. He couldn’t let her get that far. If she reached his blades, she’d feel the designs carved into him with the blackened blood of the seven Blood Knights.

If she were his Reaper, that one touch could awaken her. Now that he was here, close, he wanted to prolong the pleasure.

When her fingertips found the lower edge of the tats, Kellan sucked in a breath. The sigils were scoring him raw when he already felt feverish. Part of his mind rebelled against the personal intrusion. His muscles spasmed with a dire kind of reminder that holy marks weren’t meant to be seen or shared.

But he fought against the old rules. This woman’s touch might be the only way for him to determine the sincerity of their connection.

These feelings he had for McKenna were a mystery, unless the two of them were connected. A woman’s lips had been the last thing he’d felt before his new, resurrected life began. Now a woman’s touch might cause the end of that second round of life.

He had to distract her from the tattoos, or he’d be undone.

Kellan rested his hand on McKenna’s flat belly. He splayed his fingers so that his fingertips rested on her pubic bone, above the lovely spot his body now shuddered to enter.

He was used to observing every movement, gesture, tic, in not only an opponent but also everyone else around him. Danger in unexpected places was a constant for him. He found it funny now that enhanced senses used to working overtime couldn’t quite get a handle on her.

While her sigh told him how much she liked this meeting of their skin, McKenna’s tension hadn’t eased. Though her face had flushed pink, her heart knocked out a swift-paced irregular beat. His heart matched hers pulse for pulse in much the same way that his body behaved when taking on the aspects of his hunted prey.

Her long lashes fluttered. Her tongue darted to moisten her lips. Oh yes. He liked it all. Her. This. McKenna was doing a number on him. She had ensnared him on the street with the invitation in her eyes, and now he would return the favor.

Kellan pressed closer to her, waiting for her eyes to reopen, part of him hoping they wouldn’t. Because he didn’t want her to see the questions on his face. Or the fangs, sharp-tipped and throbbing with a need for something they’d never had.

Kellan hauled himself back, cursing silently with blasphemies from his past.

It was then that he saw the small tattoo on her upper arm. A tiny black rose with its petals unfurling. This could have been a coincidence. People today had tattoos. Women were partial to flowers.

But then why did he have one very similar to it, carved into him centuries ago?

Hello, Reaper, the voice inside his head said.

Chapter 5

McKenna’s moan of pleasure stuck in her throat. Her arms dropped to the bed as if she’d been released from a trance. Opening her eyes, she found the auburn-haired stranger looking down at her.

His eyes were luminous. His shiny hair, lightened by streaks of gold, was just long enough to fall becomingly across his forehead. There was no upward curve to the lips she wanted to curse for being so inviting. He was serious now.

Her first instinct was to shy away from the intensity of his penetrating gaze. But there was more exploration to come. She and this man were only in the starting gate. Both of them were shirtless but still wearing their pants.

Wait. Could that be right?

In spite of finding herself half-dressed, McKenna believed that she’d been naked in his arms and fucked to within an inch of her life just minutes ago. The soreness of a long, drawn-out sexfest was there, deep inside her, aching, throbbing. Her thighs quaked with leftover need.

Of course, being almost fully clothed would have prevented any of that, so how could she have thought otherwise? She had to have been hallucinating. Wishing.

Her voice wasn’t quite even when she spoke. “I thought we just...that we...”

“Only the beginning,” he promised in a tone as thick as hers.

Wary of losing track of events that couldn’t have been more than a few moments long, McKenna made herself speak again. “I have a confession to make. I’m afraid that if you’re good enough to make me imagine we’ve gotten to know each other a whole lot better without actually doing so, I truly might not be ready for the real thing.”

He nodded. “We have a connection.”

“You think?”

“My confession is that I find you irresistible, McKenna.”

“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already right here, on this bed.”

“What if I speak the truth?”

“Then I’d have to ask what’s stopping you from taking what you want right now, and then see what answer you come up with.”

“I’m savoring the moment,” he said.

“Take your time. After all, I did just embarrass myself, didn’t I, by jumping the gun? I suppose that says something about my love life, or the lack of it.”

His brow furrowed. “I can’t imagine why there isn’t a man here, waiting for you.”

“I guess it’s because I have standards.”

He nodded. “Then I’m honored to be here now. And I find your honesty refreshing.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what a girl wants to hear while lying in bed with a man. That she’s refreshing.”

The remark resulted in a smile that was as dazzling as the rest of him. Because of it, McKenna’s mind began a new internal dialogue warning her about truly not being ready for this caliber of man.

His hand was very close to her private parts. One move of her hips and he’d find out just how much she wanted this.

He didn’t make that move.

“You can leave whenever you want to,” she said, testing his intentions. “There were no promises here.”

“Did I say anything about leaving?”

“No, but I thought I’d get that out, up front.”

“Actually, I’m fairly sure there were promises, and I rarely go back on mine.”

“Promises? Such as?”

“Mouths meeting. Bodies merging. Two lost souls finding each other.”

“That’s deep,” McKenna said. “And maybe too advanced for the possibility of an hour together in my bedroom.”

“I’m a man of high hopes.” He withdrew his hand and reached to the bedside table to turn off the light.

Darkness fell, but there was just enough light coming in from the streetlights for McKenna to make out her lover’s sculpted silhouette. She mourned the loss of his baby blue gaze.

The mattress creaked beneath his weight as he shifted closer. Uncontrollably drawn to him, with a real need to explore what was so damn fine, McKenna’s hands went to his chest. There she found the heat she knew would greet her, and she relished the burn.

The face she had thought angelic was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. She turned her head toward him to offer easy access.

Sensation had tripled in the dark, awakened by anticipation. He swept her hair back from her face with his fingers, and she quivered. When he brushed her lips with his, without lingering, she wanted to break the standoff and tug him closer.

“Damn you,” she whispered for what had to be the tenth time. Giving in to her body’s demands, she reached for his shoulders.

“Soon,” he whispered, his husky tone hurling more flames in her direction.

He felt solid, hard, as his body rolled onto hers, spread-eagle on the bed. There was only the briefest time to recognize how well they fit together and how good being beneath him felt.

He didn’t have to move to let her know that he shared her excitement. His stiffness in all the right places made that perfectly clear. His hard length, and the friction of being pants to pants below the waist and skin to skin above, was a sensation like no other.

It would have been lying to say she hadn’t known how good this would be.

McKenna stifled another moan when his lips feathered across her left cheek in a downward path that would lead to her throat. His next move was a soft bite to a supersensitive spot below her ear. He did the same thing again a bit lower, and afterward placed a kiss in the valley between her breasts.

She was coming unglued. Her heart could not have beat harder. Catching her breath was a chore. She shook like a schoolgirl, fearing to move, not wanting to lose one gloriously sexy, unbelievably scary minute.

When his mouth grazed the lace covering her breasts, McKenna shoved her fingers into his hair. Her treacherous legs opened, urged into moving by the swift rise of another far-off internal beat that was pounding her insides to a pulp.

Hot breath on her nipples...

The sensation of her lacy bra being removed by the guy’s strong hands...

Followed by a flick of his tongue over one raised pink bud.

She could not remain still. Can’t.

This was too much. And too little.

“What are you waiting for?” she demanded breathlessly, the question loud in the darkened room.

“This,” he replied, dragging his mouth to the other breast, where he closed his lips over that swollen tip of her raised flesh.

McKenna bucked beneath him. Her hands fisted in his hair.

God...

He stroked a hand over her jeans, over the sweet spot pulsing between her legs as he first licked, then lightly suckled her. Shudders of delight shot through her. His mouth was crazy hot.

Did he make a sound? Could the cry have been hers?

“Can’t wait much longer,” she whispered.

“We might have to,” he warned as his hand stopped moving and the sound of knocking filled the room.

McKenna heard little over the sound of her own harsh breathing, but quickly realized that those knocking sounds weren’t due to the pounding of her heart. They came from the door.

In the most untimely interruption imaginable, someone wanted in.

* * *

Kellan swore beneath his breath and lifted his head. Drawing back, he sat up and looked to McKenna. “You were expecting company?”

“No.”

He believed her. Using his extraordinary senses, he perceived that this visitor was a man. Presumably the elusive Detective Miller.

It was likely that the officers at the crime scene they’d visited earlier had told Miller about them. It was also a good bet that the phone call McKenna made to the police department had been forwarded.

Maybe the idea of McKenna on a Harley was grounds enough for the detective to assume this was an emergency.

“Mac?” the newcomer called out softly between knocks. “McKenna? Are you there?”

“He’ll go away,” McKenna said, her body motionless on the lavender-scented sheets.

Kellan perched on the edge of the mattress, waiting for McKenna’s next instructions and wondering what this detective meant to her. Friend? More than that? There was a new tension in the room that suggested lover. Was that title current, though, or a detail from McKenna’s past?

When the knock came again, a jolt of anger hit Kellan. This was his time with McKenna. The importance of his agenda could not be overstated. He and the woman beside him had already opened a physical dialogue that might lead to the success of his mission. After all these years, he had also been enjoying himself.

“He won’t like finding you here,” McKenna said. She was looking to the door.

“Does he have a key?”

“Yes, but he won’t use it. Not now, without my permission.”

A liaison in the past tense, then?

“You don’t think being seen with me tonight might be considered cause for concern?” Kellan suggested.

“There’s always that,” she conceded.

The knocks ceased for several seconds before the doorknob turned. Kellan stood as the sound of a key grated in the lock. Gracefully, quickly, with McKenna’s welfare in mind, he moved toward his shirt.

Chapter 6

The man spanning the doorway looked like a cop, Kellan decided. It was all there—height, professionally short hair, wiry frame, condemning expression on a good-looking face. The scent of metal—his badge, and a gun hidden under an armpit—accompanied him. Underneath all of that, Kellan detected an almost feral nervousness.

The detective stopped dead in his tracks, trying to see into the darkened room. Once his eyes had adjusted, his focus landed on Kellan. Soon afterward, he flipped the light switch and transferred his gaze to the unmade bed, then to McKenna, who now stood at the window.

“Am I intruding?” he asked no one in particular. There was an explicit warning in his tone.

“Just leaving,” Kellan replied calmly, sweeping his jacket off the floor.

“Good.” The detective’s eyes were still on McKenna. She had donned a sweatshirt in time to avoid being caught half-naked.

“I’ll see you out,” the detective added, facing Kellan.

“No need. I can find my way,” Kellan said.

“Maybe so, but I’d feel better making sure you got to the street.”

McKenna broke in. “Truly, Derek, does he look like he needs help?”

“Which is exactly why I’m offering it,” the detective said.

“He brought me home,” she explained.

“I see that.”

Wanting to avoid more tension, Kellan shrugged into the jacket and zipped it up. After rolling his shoulders, he said to the detective, “See ya.”

“I’ll be back,” the detective told McKenna as he followed Kellan into the hallway. “In the meantime, Mac, maybe you can turn on more lights?”

She offered no remark in return. Her eyes followed Kellan.

Ten steps toward the staircase, with the detective tagging along behind, Kellan stopped abruptly, alerted to a new problem. Looking up, he said to the detective, “You’re going to keep an eye on her?”

“I usually do,” the detective replied.

“That gun’s loaded?”

“Are you wondering if I’ll shoot you for taking liberties with McKenna?”

“I promise you there are far worse things than me around tonight,” Kellan announced truthfully, able to smell the vampire on the roof and sense its bottomless hunger.

“Maybe so,” the detective said. “Yet I think I’ll deal with one thing at a time.”

Kellan didn’t want to leave McKenna and vowed the separation wouldn’t be for long. He just had to take care of the little problem on the roof without this detective’s prying eyes, and then get rid of the detective.

McKenna might wait for him. Then again, maybe she’d lock the door for good since she’d been afforded the chance to regret her actions and her invitation now that their night together had been interrupted.

Still, he’d find a second opportunity.

He had to.

Their footsteps were quiet on the steps. Once on the street, the detective waited with a shoulder against the building’s brick entry for Kellan to reach the Harley. But Kellan couldn’t leave. The fanged bloodsucker was clinging to the side of the building above them like an oversize spider. Really nasty vamps with bad intentions did that in order to peer into windows to locate their next unsuspecting victims. This one didn’t seem to care about the two people below.

If Miller glanced upward, he’d see the danger lurking there. Possibly he’d even believe his eyes. At the moment, though, the detective’s only concern was getting rid of the biker who had fraternized with his old flame. Like most mortals, Miller wouldn’t catch a whiff of the supernatural threat that was almost in his face.

Leaving now was impossible. As soon as he exited the area, the dead fanger might drop, and Miller wouldn’t know what hit him. It also might swing through the window and reach McKenna before Kellan could hit the stairs.

He saw McKenna at the window. The damn vampire was dangling a few feet above her, its white face gleaming with malice.

Kellan knew he could get past Detective Miller easily enough, but if he used his special speed, the cop would know there were things on this earth that lay beyond the realm of the possible. Miller’s gun could slow the rogue vampire down if the detective got off a few rounds, yet those bullets wouldn’t kill the monster, even if Kellan were to point the bloodsucker out.

This was his problem. Taking care of bad guys was what he did.

“Why were you with her? What’s McKenna to you?” Miller asked as Kellan turned toward him.

“Is that your business?” Kellan asked.

“I’ve just made it my business.”

Kellan figured he had a few seconds at most to play along with the detective’s line of questioning.

“I gave her a ride,” he said.

Miller’s dark eyes were almost rudely assessing. “Yes. That’s why the lights were off in her apartment, as well as your jacket. Mac’s gratefulness for that ride being the reason?”

Kellan kept his eyes on the detective so as not to call attention to the monster closing in. He said, “I offered to get her home when she needed help.”

“Mac seldom needs help. So if she did, you have my thanks for that.”

Of course, Miller didn’t mean that about the thanks. Most likely he’d been informed about the call McKenna had made, though, and would know she tried to reach him first.

This was checkmate when there was no need of it. Kellan supposed he would be pressed to honor his vows to the end, as he always did, so that humans wouldn’t panic over seeing what hid in the shadows. He went so far as to think about showing his fangs to this detective, just to get Miller on board.

Turning to the Harley, Kellan peered over his shoulder. The vampire had reached McKenna’s window, where she was standing very close to the glass. Another couple of breaths and the rogue would find its way in.

Kellan considered what might constitute the lesser of two evils. Reveal himself and his abilities to this detective and get to McKenna, or let Miller find out the hard way about one of the world’s darkest secrets.

“I forgot something,” Kellan said, rounding back to where the detective stood.

“I’ll save it for you, whatever it is,” Miller promised sarcastically, pushing off the wall to block the doorway.

“It’s important that I go back up there, Detective.”

Miller gave him a look that more or less translated to over my dead body. But by then the sound of breaking glass filled the night.

* * *

McKenna didn’t know what happened. One minute she was looking at the two men on the sidewalk, and the next minute there were shards of shattered glass in her face.

She stumbled back, caught herself from falling on the bed and sprang sideways with an adrenaline surge as something barreled through the opening that moments ago had been a sturdy dual-paned window.

Intruder.

A shout lodged in her throat, but her police-trained reflexes rallied. She hit the floor and rolled toward where her gun was hidden in a drawer, figuring that timing would be her ally and provide the precious seconds necessary for her to protect herself from attack.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get far. The guy was incredibly fast. Strong hands caught her by the hair and swung her around. Gasping, she was on her back before her next breath, smelling the rancid odor coming from her attacker’s open mouth.

McKenna kicked out. Her bare right foot connected with the man’s shin, but he didn’t seem to feel it. He was a fighter, and superhumanly strong. Although she’d kicked with all her might, being shoeless wasn’t in her favor. Her foot hurt like hell.

He was on top of her in seconds.

No way was she going to give up.

McKenna punched him with both hands and managed to rip the skin from his face with her nails. She struggled, squirmed and fought with an energy born of both fear and anger.

She was against the wall without knowing how she’d got there. The attacker’s face came close—a pasty angular death mask with dark holes for eyes.

“Freak!” she rasped as his hands encircled her throat and began to squeeze.

She got her arms under his and shoved hers upward to break his choke hold. Dropping her weight, she again hit the floor in time to slide out from under him.

He grunted once and again caught her by the hair. With a sickening heave he had her upright and shoved against the same damn wall. His hands returned to her throat.

She groaned as her breath left her and her lids fluttered toward stillness.

* * *

“What the hell?” The detective’s startled shout preceded Kellan’s race to the stairs.

Kellan was beyond caring about vows and secrets now. If anything happened to McKenna, he’d be one sorry immortal.

He was at her door in seconds and through it in less time than it took for Miller to gather himself enough to follow. One quick scan told him that the beast, in a blur of malice and motion, had McKenna by the throat.

Kellan pulled the vampire off her and held the abomination suspended in the air as he spoke McKenna’s name, needing to know he was in time and she was all right. He had never faced the meaning of real fear until she didn’t answer.

The vampire in his grip was young and unaware of beings with greater power. It spit and hissed and fought with the strength of two human men, but was no match for a Blood Knight.

Kellan threw the beast against the same wall McKenna had slid down. Hearing Detective Miller’s approach, and regretful over not having the time to deal the bloodsucker some retribution, he clutched the vampire, moved to the window and tossed the beast out.

“Another time, fiend,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “You’d better hope it’s not anywhere near here.”

“McKenna?” Miller was calling her name, kneeling by McKenna’s side, turning her over. She was on the floor with her head against the legs of a chair. Her eyes were closed.

“McKenna, open your eyes,” Miller directed. “Look at me. You’re going to be okay. Tell me you’re all right.”

Kellan watched, wanting to help, desperate to go to her. Frustrated, he made himself wait, hearing the rapid patter of McKenna’s heartbeat from where he stood and the staccato intake of her ragged breaths.

Miller turned his head. “Where did the bastard go?”

“It exited the same way it got in,” Kellan said, withholding the part about throwing the bloodsucker out and onto its five-year-dead ass.

Miller didn’t seem to notice the it part.

“Help her,” Miller directed, pulling a phone from his pocket to call the incident in. “Jesus, there isn’t a decent place left in this goddamn city to live.”

Kellan relished the chance to get close to McKenna. As the detective barked orders into the phone, he took McKenna in his arms, brushed the hair back from her face and spoke in a soft tone. “You’re not hurt, McKenna. I won’t allow that, and neither will you. Do you hear me?”