The Dark-Hunters (84 page)

He had such a powerful presence that it made her breathless just to look at him. It was as if the very air around him were rife with energy and strength, and she wished most of all that she could capture that with her art.

But no one would ever be able to duplicate or create an aura so intense. It was something that could only be experienced in the flesh.

With every step he took closer to her, her heart pounded harder. The man was so overwhelmingly masculine. So very choice.

His intensity, his raw animal magnetism … set fire to her blood.

He’d been handsome last night in her bed, but upright and conscious, he was totally devastating.

“You know, Talon,” she said, tracing the lines of his perfect muscles with her gaze. “Towels look really good on you. You go outside like that and you’ll start a whole new fashion craze.”

An amused smile hovered at the edges of his lips. “Do you always say everything that comes to your mind?”

“Mostly. I do have some thoughts I keep to myself. I used to not care and would say anything at all, but then one time my college roommate called the psycho unit on me. You know, they really do have white coats.”

Talon arched a brow at the sincerity he sensed from her. That was a true story. The woman was eccentric, no doubt, but far from a crackpot.

Well, maybe not
that
far.

She reached over to his untouched “breakfast” and picked up the so-called muffin that had shiny little particles in it he couldn’t even begin to identify. “You still haven’t eaten your muffin.”

Yeah, right. He still hadn’t eaten his boots either, and he’d rather feast on one of them than that thing in her hand.

“I’m not hungry.”

At least not for food.

She dropped the muffin to the counter and he swore it thunked. Her brow furrowing, she reached out and touched his torc. Her fingers brushed against the skin of his neck, raising chills and other things on his body.

“This is so beautiful. I’ve always wanted a torc, but never could find one that seemed like me.” She ran her thumb over the right dragon head. “Are you from Scotland?”

“Not exactly,” he said, watching the way she studied the piece, which had been a gift from his aunt on his wedding day. Both he and Nynia had received matching torcs from her. He didn’t know why he still wore it, other than the fact that taking it off would cause him more pain than he was willing to deal with. In some odd way, removing the torc would be like losing Nynia all over again.

Against his will, his mind drifted back to the moment when Nynia had placed the torc around his neck. Her smile had been blinding and her face filled with love as she kissed him on his lips.

Gods, how he missed her. Even after all these centuries. There were times when he swore he could still smell the warmth of her hair. Feel her touch. It was like the ghost itch of a missing limb that, even years later, you swore you could still feel.

There was something about Sunshine that reminded him of his wife. And it wasn’t just the fact that both women possessed the ability to drive him crazy.

Sunshine was strangely fascinating. Much like him, she saw things on another level, things that were hidden from this plane of existence.

Her mind flashed from one thing to another like bursts of lightning, which was as intriguing as it was confusing. Nynia was the only other person he’d ever met with that trait.

As a mortal man, he had often been confounded by Nynia’s unique logic.

“You know,” Sunshine said, “you say ‘not exactly’ a lot. You’re not exactly a vampire. You’re not exactly from Scotland, and you’re allergic to daylight. What else?”

“I hate bran muffins and grass.”

She laughed at that, a rich, throaty sound that warmed him. He watched in fascination as she used a stained rag to clean the charcoal from her long, elegant fingers. “So how long until your friends get here?”

“A couple of hours, no doubt. I live way outside of town.”

Sunshine looked down at the towel around his hips. If she kept him here like that, there was no telling what might happen.

Actually there was, which meant she really needed to get some clothes on him … fast.

He took a deep breath, the gesture accentuating the muscled indentations of his hard, defined abs.

Oh yeah, she needed to cover up that temptation.

“I tell you what, Mr. Talon No-Last-Name. Why don’t I go out and get you something to put on until your friends get here?”

Because I don’t want you to leave.
Talon blinked at the bizarre, uncharacteristic thought.

Where had that come from?

There was something compelling about this woman. Something strong and at the same time vulnerable. He felt in her a need to make amends for what she’d done to him. Why, he couldn’t imagine. Especially since she had saved his life.

Had she left him out on the street, he would be dead now. A fried stain on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know. But I insist. It’s the least I could do since I destroyed your pants.”

As he looked at her kind, compelling face, which was framed by straight, jet-black hair, he became fascinated by the way her lips curved. The way they held a hint of a smile even while she was relaxed. Sunshine was more than just her name, it was also her attitude. Happy, warm.

She was totally irresistible and he wanted a taste of her so badly that he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t already sampled her.

He needed to taste her. To
feel
her.

Sunshine watched while Talon studied her lips. There was enough heat in his obsidian gaze to set fire to a glacier. He had yet to touch her and still she swore she could feel him surrounding her with heat, with need.

The air around her seemed sexually charged. It practically sizzled with eroticism and longing. She’d never felt anything like this in her life.

Talon oozed an inhuman sexual attraction. She was drawn to him in a way she’d never been drawn to any man.

His eyes narrowing, he dipped his head and took possession of her lips with a masterful kiss that made her head literally spin. Her body melted.

She moaned at the taste of his lips against hers as his tongue swept passionately into her mouth. He pulled her up from her bar stool, into his strong arms, and ran his hands over her back, clenching the fabric of her dress in his fists.

The raw, manly scent of him invaded her as she felt his muscles flex around her. His virile potency was almost more than she could take.

This was an earthy man who knew his way around a woman’s body. She could feel it in his masterful kiss, in the way he knew just where and how to caress her.

Her body burning with desire, she clutched at his bare shoulders as she felt him harden even more against her stomach.

She’d never experienced anything like this. It was as if he were starving for her.

Only her.

When he finally pulled back, she realized she had surrendered her weight to him and he had supported all of her without even tightening his muscles. Jeez, the man was strong.

He brushed his thumb over her swollen lips, his eyes so warm and tender that it made her even more breathless than his kiss. “I’m a thirty-three waist and a thirty-eight inseam.”

“Um-hmm,” she breathed without hearing him. She swayed toward him for another kiss.

Talon felt a strange stirring inside him at the dazed and adoring look on her face.

“Kiss me again,” she whispered an instant before she claimed his lips with hers.

He cupped her head in his hands as he explored her mouth, being careful not to let her accidentally brush her tongue against his fangs and learn the truth about him.

But it was hard to pull back when the taste of her drove him so close to madness. Her patchouli-and-turpentine scent intoxicated him and he ached to pull the hem of her dress up and slide his hand over her lush thighs to her …

Her tongue came dangerously close to his fangs.

Pulling back, he released her.

That had been just a bit too close for comfort, but not nearly as close as he wanted to get to her. He dropped his gaze to her body, outlined by her dress. She was a full-bodied woman, not tiny or petite. And she had large, lush breasts—something he’d always been partial to.

Clenching his teeth, he fought the vicious need to take her into his arms and sample those breasts with his mouth. His hands.

His tongue.

Better still, his fangs …

“Okay,” she said in an odd, high-pitched voice. “That was nice.” She clapped her hands together and took a step back. It wasn’t until her gaze fell to the towel that the light came back into her dark brown eyes. “Clothes. You need clothes before I do something I might
not
regret. What was your size again, Steve?”

“Talon.”

“Talon. Size. Clothes. Cover him up.”

Talon smiled as he watched her trying to keep her mind focused while her eyes continued to drift over him with desire.

He liked this woman. In spite of her peculiarities, there was something very refreshing and pure about her.

“I’m going to go get
Talon
clothes.” She left, then came back a few seconds later. “Keys,” she said, heading to a pink canister on the kitchen counter. “Need keys for car.” She left only to return again. “Purse. Money for clothes.”

Talon raked his hand through his wet hair as she left one more time and wondered if she’d forgotten anything else.

She had.

“Shoes,” she said the next time. “Must have shoes to shop and keep feet warm.” She slid her feet into a pair of mules by the door.

“What about a coat?” Talon asked as he noticed she was heading out again. “It is wintertime.”

“Coats are good in the winter,” she said, going to a rack by the door he assumed was her closet. She pulled on an old brown overcoat that seemed completely not her style. “Be back shortly.”

“Wait.”

She paused to look at him.

Talon quirked his lips as he crossed the room and undid her misbuttoned coat. Straightening it, he buttoned it correctly.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling a smile that did the oddest things to his groin and stomach.

All Talon could do was nod, especially since what he really wanted to do was pick her up in his arms and carry her to the bed and make love to her for the rest of the afternoon.

“I’ll be back,” she said, heading out.

After she was gone, he finally allowed himself to smile broadly. She was definitely something else.

Something that reminded him of a warm spring day after a harsh winter. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him the way she did. A long time since someone had stayed in his thoughts.

“You like her.”

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the spirit that flickered there. “She’s interesting,” he said to Ceara.

Ceara moved forward to stand by his side. Her pale cheeks held an ethereal blush as she shimmered between this plane of existence and the next.

She should have crossed completely over to her eternal rest or rebirth centuries before, but she had refused to leave him alone.

And though it was terribly selfish, Talon had been grateful for her company. Especially back in the days when he’d been unable to stay in touch with his Dark-Hunter brethren via modern technology.

Back then, his isolation had been hellish. He’d spent days alone, never daring to let any human near him for fear of his curse. Never daring to reach out to anyone for anything.

The only relief he’d known was his sister’s infrequent visits.

But every time he looked at Ceara, he was painfully reminded of how badly he had failed her. He should have been able to help her the day she died. Had he not been a fool, she would have lived out the life she deserved. A life filled with a husband and children.

Instead, she’d been sacrificed because he had been a stupid, arrogant ass.

The first time she’d come to him after their deaths had shattered him. There had been no accusations from her, no hatred, even though he deserved it.

She had shown him only compassion and love.

“I promised you I would never leave you alone, my
bràthair.
And I won’t. I will always be here for you.”

Over the centuries, her presence had been the only thing that kept him grounded and allowed him to function. Her friendship and love had always meant everything in the world to him.

Ceara brushed a sisterly hand over the bruise on his right thigh. He couldn’t feel it like a real touch, but the gesture caused his skin to tingle. “It no longer bothers you?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Speirr,” she said, speaking his name in their native Celt. “You know to be honest with me,
bràthair.”

He reached to brush a tendril of blond hair from her cheek, only to remember he couldn’t touch her.

He closed his eyes as he remembered the past.

Their clan had slain her just days before her sixteenth birthday.

“She will be our sacrifice to the gods and they shall forgive us for the transgressions of our leader…”

Talon clenched his teeth against the grief and guilt that swelled inside him. Her death had been his fault. He had killed her as surely as if he’d been the one holding the knife.

But he pushed those thoughts away and found the numbness he needed to function.

I’m no longer human and there is no past.
Acheron’s litany ran through his mind, allowing him to suppress everything.

There was only now and the future. His human life far behind him, he was a Dark-Hunter whose entire existence was to seek out and destroy the evil that preyed on the humans who had no knowledge of what lay in the darkness waiting for them.

“My leg”—unlike his heart—“only hurts a little.”

She shook her head at him. “This is not a safe place for you, Speirr. There is too much light. I don’t like for you to be here.”

“I know. I’m leaving as soon as I can.”

“Very well, then I shall leave until you need me.”

She faded away and left him alone. Again.

Talon’s gaze fell to the counter where Sunshine had been sitting when he joined her. He frowned as he caught sight of the sketch she’d been working on.