Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II (16 page)

Clutching her clothing to her chest, she rose. Golden candlelight from a single candle spilled across his fallen angel face and his sinner’s mouth. Her heart clenched.

Lucius deVille was more wonderful than she’d ever imagined a man could be. Before she’d set out on this quest, she’d known he was leaving New Orleans and had embraced that fact knowing they’d have their one night together and there was no danger they’d ever see each other again. This way no one would get hurt—least of all her.

Her fist clenched. If that was so, why did her heart ache so much?

* * * * *

The
Chat Noir
had changed little in the intervening weeks since last she’d been there. The Halloween costumes were long gone and the interior was decorated with tinsel and hundreds of white Christmas lights. The scent of fried food and beer hung in the air as Rachel wound her way though the crowd toward the bar.

Finding an empty seat near the server stand, she slid into it.

Around her people laughed and drank toasts to the coming holidays and she wasn’t sure why she’d come here. She’d spent the past six weeks holed up in her house subsisting on her stockpile of frozen blood products and piles of romance novels. When she found herself rereading the same novel for the third time, she knew she needed to get out of the house for a few hours.

She looked around the bar and her stomach clenched. Though why she’d come here she didn’t know.

Because you were here with him…

Her heart twisted. She’d done little more than think about Luc, wonder if he was doing okay wherever he was. Her original plan might’ve been for a one-night stand with a handsome stranger who didn’t endanger her heart, but it sure as hell felt broken anyway.

There wasn’t an hour gone by in the past six weeks that she hadn’t thought about him. Even in her dark sleep, she’d dreamt of him, his laughter, and the feel of his hands on her body, his wicked mouth on her flesh—

92

One Night Stand

“You look like hell, Rachel.” Tom appeared behind the bar with a frown between his brows.

“Thanks.” She gave him a wan smile. “Drink, please.”

His brow arched. “Not the kitty again, I hope?”

She shook her head. “Just the straight stuff.”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Tom turned away to get her drink, leaving her alone with her dark thoughts.

One of the things that bothered her the most was that she didn’t dream of Wyatt, her human lover, any longer. A night or so after her evening with Luc, she’d dreamt of him one last time. Wyatt had been smiling and he’d given her a quick wave before he turned and walked away. It was as though he was letting her know that it was okay that she’d moved on. She was both oddly soothed and bothered by this dream. She’d met the man of her dreams, Luc, only to lose the man who’d inhabited her dreams and her life for forty-some years.

“Here you go, Rach.” Tom set the mug on the bar before her and the scent of warm blood made her senses come alive. “Here’s to your health,” he hoisted a glass of mineral water in his direction.

She smiled and picked up her drink. “And to yours, my friend.”

The first taste soothed her tangled nerves and she drained the mug. Human blood, unlike were-blood, did not have the tendency to knock a vampire on their behind if imbibed quickly.

Around her the party continued and Rachel wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home in her bed. Feeling unbearably lonely, she pulled out a few dollar bills and dropped them on the bar. Sliding off the stool she turned to leave, stopping dead when she realized a man stood in her way.

It was Luc.

A smile played at the edges of his mouth. “It’s about time you showed up.”

Rachel’s heart stuttered and she stepped backward. “You’re supposed to be gone…“

He shook his head. “I never intend to leave New Orleans. After many long years, I’m finally home. If you had stuck around, you’d have learned that for yourself.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand…”

“The night we met, that bit of business upstairs, I’d finalized the deal to buy a house here in New Orleans.”

A loud rushing noise filled Rachel’s ears. Luc lived here now? He was staying in New Orleans? Her knees wobbled. How could she continue to live here knowing she’d run into him sooner or later? Sooner or later a man as handsome as Luc was sure to have girlfriends and she wasn’t about to watch him parade around town with another women.

“Congratulations.” Her lips felt curiously numb as she started to move past him.

93

J.C. Wilder

“Where do you think you’re going?” He moved to block her escape.

“Home. I have to go home.” She refused to look at him.

“Why did you leave me that night, Rachel?”

Her heart breaking, she forced her gaze to his, letting him see the pain and the love she felt. “I was afraid,” she whispered.

His gaze sharpened. “Of me?”

She nodded. “And of myself. I loved someone once before and I almost died when he passed away. I didn’t think I could risk my heart ever again.” Tears began streaming down her face. “You were supposed to leave,” she whispered.

“And now that I’m not?” He pulled her into his arms.

“I’m so confused.” She mumbled against his chest.

He chuckled. “Then let me make it easy on you.” He caught her chin and forced her head back. “We don’t know each other very well, but I think I love you. You’ve bewitched me with your smile, the way you bite your lip, and your sexy ass.”

She blinked. “You think you love me?”

“Yes, does that clarify things for you?” He dropped his head and kissed her on the nose. “It would be a crime if you left now and we didn’t explore what’s going on between us.” His grip tightened.

Her heart swelled and her jaw refused to work. Not trusting herself to speak, she just nodded.

“Good. So, um, so…you’ll be going home with me, then?

She swallowed hard and nodded again.

“Good.” He took her arm and walked her toward the door. “We need to talk about how you’re going to make it up to me for that little abandonment stunt you pulled.”

She stopped and gaped at him. “Make it up to you?” she spluttered.

“Yes, make it up to me.” He pulled her toward the door again. “You left me all alone and I really needed to cuddle that morning but noooooo, you left without a word.” He nuzzled her ear and whispered. “You know, a man really needs to cuddle for a while after mind-blowing sex.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around his waist, hardly daring to believe it was Luc walking beside her. The night air was cool and damp and a light rain had begun to fall, but she didn’t care if the heavens chose that moment to open up and dump torrents of rain on them. Nothing could spoil her happiness.

“Okay, Stud, how do I go about making things up to you?”

He pretended to consider that for a moment. “Well, letting me watch you go down on me would be good for a start…”

94

About the author:

J.C. welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, Suite 13, Stow OH 44224.

Also by J.C. Wilder writing as

Dominique Adair:

Last Kiss

Tied With A Bow

Party Favors

Xanthra Chronicles: Blood Law

TAIL OF THE TIGER

R. Casteel

R. Casteel

Dearest Father had ruined enough people’s lives.

Cedric Deverone Jr. sat at the large oak desk going through the hundreds of disks left to him by his father, Cedric Deverone Sr. His eyes felt like someone had poured sand in them. With his food cold, forgotten, and a bottle of his father’s most expensive imported cognac in his hand, he read the information on the screen. It had taken him five hours to break the security code on the last disk.

Now, in all truth, he wished he hadn’t been successful. He knew his father was a brilliant scientist and the founder of Ever-Alive, the leading institute for the cloning of humans. He hadn’t known until now of his father’s sickly perverted experiments—or that he was his father’s bid for immortality.

He, Cedric Deverone Jr., was another of his father’s misbegotten clones.

Cedric lifted the crystal bottle to his lips, took a long swallow, and felt the fire wash over him. In anger, he threw the bottle at the large portrait over the fireplace. The bottle broke, soaking the canvas and filling the room with the heady aroma. Glass fell to the floor and glistened in the reflected light of the fire.

Rage boiled up inside him, releasing the bloodlust he fought so hard to control. He wished now, more than ever, that Cedric Deverone Sr. had never been born.

* * * * *

Cedric watched the island take shape on the horizon and adjusted his course. He had sailed out of Brazil a week ago, one month to the day after having found the damning file. Stocks wavered and fell as the news spread of the redistribution and liquidation of the Deverone fortunes.

It had been assumed when his father died, that he would step in and fill his shoes.

Board members from a dozen companies, firms, and charities were now scrambling to fill the vacant seat.

Some said he was abandoning his responsibilities, others that he owed his father to keep Ever-Alive going. Cedric saw it the other way around. He owed Cedric Deverone Sr., nothing.

On the sea charts, Deverone Island was only a dot in an endless ocean of blue. It was his island now, the only piece of real estate not for sale. As he watched the foliage take the shape of large trees, excitement began to rush through him.

The beauty of the island, the danger of the unknown, and dread of discovering that the story on the disk was true caused a varied mixture of emotions to swirl in his mind.

98

Tail of the Tiger

According to the records, the half-ling woman wasn’t the first. Were there more of his father’s
mistakes
on the island?

There came to him another emotion, one he hadn’t felt in years. A feeling that frightened him more than finding out the secrets of his father’s work were not, after all, the fanatical ravings of a sick man. For the first time in more years than he could remember, Cedric Deverone felt he was coming home.

Circling the island, he anchored his sailboat in a small, protected cove and took the dingy to the narrow white beach. A swell from the tide pushed him onto the sand and he hopped out. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he knelt to examine a single set of footprints leading to the dense cover of the tropical forest.

Ten feet away, he found a clean, distinct handprint and then another. It was true, every word of horror his father wrote. She walked upright like a human and ran on all fours like the beast. The prints bore clear proof that the half-ling clone still lived.

Cedric stood, wiped the sweat from his palms, and followed the trail into the underbrush.

* * * * *

Watching from the high branches of the canopy, she studied the man as he entered the forest. The simmering heat lifted his spoor and she tasted his fear. Yet he worked his way slowly and silently along the trail like a predator instead of the prey. Kat melted into the shadows as he lifted his head, his eyes searching among the treetops.

For a human, he wasn’t bad looking. A thin white shirt clung to his body, revealing broad muscular shoulders and a narrow waist. His long, curly black hair stirred in the ocean breeze. Humans had visited her island before, but few ever ventured off the beach. Those who did—seldom returned. He stopped directly under her, studying the ground and listening.

“Kat, I know you are watching me.” He kept his voice low like he knew she was close by. “I only hope you can understand what I’m saying.”

Panic gripped her heart. The tip of her long tail twitched nervously.
How does he
know my name?

“I do not wish to harm you. Please, you have to believe me.” He stood, leaned against her tree, and waited.

Her fingers brushed a pinecone and it fell, landing at his feet. She heard his soft chuckle as he reached down and picked it up.

“Sorry, Kat. I didn’t bring anything for you from my boat. If you’ll come down to the beach tonight, I’ll have something for you there.” He walked away, back down the path.

Leaping surefooted from limb to limb, Kat descended to the ground. His scent filled her senses, excited her. For some reason, this human had come seeking her out. Sinking to all fours, she crept through the underbrush.

99

R. Casteel

She watched him start a small pile of sticks on fire and as the flames grew, he added more wood. Humans were strange creatures, always wanting fire. She knew how to harness the power but had no real need of it.

Her guardian, the only human she had ever trusted, had taught her about it and their language. It had been so long now since his passing, she missed the long nights under the stars, listening to him tell about a mysterious world that she would never know.

This was her home, her sanctuary. From her earliest memories, she had run through the trees, caught fish in the small stream, and lived off the land. She felt safe here, unless humans came.

* * * * *

Cedric spent the remainder of the day gathering wood for his fire and exploring along the beach. Through the shadows and dense foliage, he caught fleeting glimpses of her as she watched him from a distance. He had taken a risk going into the thick tropical canopy and invading her territory. Was she stalking his every movement out of curiosity, or was she waiting for him to venture back into the tree line where she could spring from hiding and kill him?

Along a small fresh-water inlet, he found more of her footprints and knelt to examine them more closely. Kat was so close that he could feel her presence and hear her shallow breathing. Cedric slowly turned his head and stared into the dense cover.

Brilliant amber eyes glared back at him.

Cupping his hand, he dipped it into the water and lifted it to his mouth never taking his eyes off of hers. They held him spellbound. If she attacked now, he would be powerless to protect himself.