“Diego?”
“Yes?”
His voice shimmered intimately between them.
A soft gasp of surprise slipped past her lips. “All I have to do is think of you, talk to you, and you can hear me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a telepath, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Oh,” she said contemplatively. Her brow drew down and she palmed her brush, the familiar weight sinking into her stunned mind. She pushed her fears aside to figure this out. There
were
people like her out there. She was a prime example, and Titania wasn’t the only one. There was no doubt of that.
“What are you?” She dragged the brush through her hair, straightening the long tresses.
“That is best left for some other night. You have had a rough evening already.”
She listened to the way he talked to her. Even though it was incredibly different, the way he spoke didn’t frighten her. The more she heard, the less frightened she became by the subtle touch of his voice. She could sense the strength he had, a definite controlled power. He was gifted in a way she could hardly guess at. Her circle of experience was limited to herself and Laney. Diego was an unknown and at the same time, he intrigued her.
She pulled her hand through her hair distractedly. “Diego, why are you so lonely?” she asked a few moments later, her curiosity rising, remembering the desolation she had felt from him earlier in the evening.
“Are you always this curious?”
There was a sound of humor to his reply.
“Unfortunately,” she told him. She’d been told it was a fault of hers more than once. “I felt you the same way I did Brakka, only on a different level.” She shook her head, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were sparkling. “This isn’t normal,” she muttered.
A smile formed easily when she heard laughter. Rich, easy laughter.
“
Whoever gave you the explanation for normal obviously never knew you, or me. Rest, Titania. I need to take care of my wounds, and I want to know you are safe and asleep before I leave you completely.”
She gasped, instantly disturbed he was seeing to her comforts before his own, which were far worse. “You haven’t treated your arm? And you’ve been talking to me? Go, now. I mean it,” she ordered, very upset that he was neglecting himself when he was the one who had been seriously injured.
The reflection before her frowned when she heard his voice. He was still taking care of her first.
“
You have warmed me with your company, cara. I will find you again, soon. Promise me you will rest.”
She rolled her eyes. “If it will get you to take care of yourself, I’ll promise anything. Now go!”
His laughter was warm again.
“
Good night, cara.”
“Good night, Diego,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed for just a moment. There was almost an actual feeling, or really a lack of it, and she knew he was gone.
She ran the brush through her hair a few more times, thinking. Who was Diego? How gifted was he? How was he able to talk to her from a distance?
Why did Brakka hate him so much? She shook her head lightly, unable to even guess. Diego felt different, but she was beginning to think he and Brakka had the same abilities. There was a certain emptiness in both of them. Brakka had touched death many times, his soul destroyed for it.
She pursed her lips, her thoughts tumbling faster. Diego had an emptiness, true, but she didn’t feel threatened by him. There was something about him, though. A cold something. Something dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than Brakka because it was so well hidden, so controlled that it had taken her this long to recognize it as a threat. She shivered once, wondering how dangerous he may be after all.
A huge yawn stole over her, stopping her musing thoughts, releasing more of the evening’s tension and strain out of her system. She didn’t have nights like this often, if ever. She couldn’t recall anyone ever affecting her as deeply as Brakka, or the need to help come over her so strongly either. And she’d helped thousands through the years.
“Cara? You are not in bed.”
His admonishing tone drifted into her thoughts, and she jumped on the small bench in front of the vanity mirror. Peering into the glass, she searched the bedroom suite behind her in reaction. It didn’t matter that she
knew
she was alone. Diego
felt
close.
“I’m going,” she snapped with a surly tiredness. “Right now.” She tossed her head in defiance. “Don’t go getting all bossy on me, buster. I have enough people who take my care too personally as it is.”
“Do not make me worry, and there will be no problems,”
he told her apathetically. She huffed in answer.
* * * *
Inside the body of the owl, Diego fought the laughter, wings ruffling while he watched Titania show her feisty side. He settled onto the windowsill, waiting while she crawled into bed. He projected a quick command, pushing her into deep sleep faster. She would not suffer because of him, no nightmares, and no dreams of blood or pain.
Diego shook his head, confused and dumbfounded at her bravery. Brakka could have killed her, but her only thought was to save him, a complete stranger. Someone much stronger, far older than she could guess.
She was doing something to him. Her unselfish act, her giving nature, invaded him in ways he had never expected from another person. Diego had never met anyone like her. So giving, so innocent, and worse, so foolishly courageous. The need all of these new feelings created was not to feed, but something so unfamiliar, yet so necessary he regarded it, her, very carefully. In all his solitary years, he had never met anyone like her. The ease with which he could talk to her was indefinable, as refreshing as a spring rain. He had not held a true conversation with a person in years.
It did not help that he also saw her beauty, saw
her
as a desirable woman, as a man would. Something he had not felt in centuries was unfurling. The sensations had struck in the club; his initial reaction to just her presence had been explosive. Now, an indescribable ache had surged into its place, grown into a burning need in the hours since he had first heard her voice.
She was also becoming increasingly comfortable with him. He had tasted her fear, felt her rationalize her way through it. Her mind amazed him, working in incredible patterns, breaking down the issues at hand. Diego could let her believe he was telepathic, but he could not bring himself to lie to her. The option never occurred to him, and he realized he honestly did not want to. Pale eyes stared unblinking at the body lying so unaware in the bed on the other side of the window, ignorant that he sat only a few yards away.
What was it about her? Who was this woman? What was she to him? Titania was under his protection now, something he had never given another living soul. It did not matter that he and Brakka had been battling for longer than she had been alive. She had put herself between them, risking her own life. He could do no less than offer her his.
Assured she would rest without repercussions from her night, he fell away from the building, wings spreading to catch the breeze. In truth, he had not gone far after leaving her side. Now, he had to retrieve his bike from in front of the club. Regardless that she trusted her friends, he did not, and he had been no more than a word away if she had needed him.
Slipping in and out of her mind all evening, he was continuously amazed at her. Her thoughts were a maze of intriguing puzzles, and none were the feminine wiles that he most often found. She gave no thought to the differences of others. Saw no ugliness in his differences, felt no fear in his presence. Perhaps that was why she could accept the touch of his mind so quickly. She knew he was different and rather than fear it, Titania embraced it. Diego also recognized the deep stamp of loneliness on her soul. Her very existence intrigued him like no other in his memory.
For the first time, after so many long centuries, he did not feel alone. After sharing a few words with her when he had spoken to no one in years, he felt at peace.
The owl dropped from the sky, dissolving into the shadows. The club was still packed with people milling around the front as he reclaimed his motorcycle. He knew Brakka was still in the area. His presence felt like an insidious darkness moving through the night, as when any of the Brethren were near. Unfortunately, the bond the two men shared was like instant messaging. If one of them died, the other would know immediately.
Diego shook his head, bringing his bike to roaring life. He knew by tomorrow there would be at least one murder to read about. He had done his best to fit in, which was hard when he lived for centuries. Battles like tonight’s were rare. Then again, he very rarely stumbled upon any of the Brethren, and they did not look for him. Diego avoided their cities of habitation, preferring the solitude of his mountain home and the occasional trips to the surrounding towns to satisfy his hungers. Brakka was just a bad penny appearing now, a decade since he escaped their last fight. The time between did not really matter. Eventually, Brakka would pay for what he had done, for the abomination he had created, for destroying Diego.
Surprisingly though, Diego’s last thoughts before he closed his eyes to the rising sun were not of hatred, his quest to avenge himself, but of a courageous woman with eyes the color of a cobalt, midnight sky.
Three nights later, Titania sat at her dressing room table touching up her makeup, wondering if she was losing her mind. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she’d seen her bloody and ruined clothes from the night she threw herself into the middle of their fight, she would have sworn everything afterward had been a dream. Diego. His vanishing into thin air. Talking to him and hearing him in her thoughts. Because she hadn’t heard from him since.
She had found someone like her, different, gifted, or worse, imagined it all. Laney was gifted. She had a very strong sixth sense for perversion, for true, dark evil. Titania could read emotion by absorbing it, as well as broadcast her own. She also had a low telekinetic ability, but rarely used it unless she was alone. She made enough headlines with her empathic efforts, so many fans gushing about their experiences at her concerts. Titania did her best to lay low, but it wasn’t easy. Houston was their protector. It didn’t hurt that Houston and Laney were made for each other, she thought with a smile for the pair, but it faded when another face appeared in her thoughts. If Diego was like them, where had he gone?
She hadn’t felt Diego’s mental touch since the night she’d met him. Maybe she had imagined him after all. The powder brush in her fingers moved absently across her chin. He’d been severely wounded during their fight. Goose bumps covered her at the memory of all the blood. She tossed the brush to the tabletop rather than let the building shiver run its course.
If it were possible, she felt even lonelier after that single meeting. She loved her friends, but it didn’t keep her from feeling isolated at times to have them so close. Houston was the best kind of big brother and best friend a girl could hope for. She and Laney had connected at the first audition for the backup singer opening. Tani smiled, remembering Houston’s amorous chase of the tall blonde with the dazzling green eyes. David and Justin were like goofy cousins, sardonic, playful, ribbing on each other. But still… She sighed. She was an island amidst them all. Just the same, why was Diego sticking in her thoughts like this?
Images of his mane of wild, black hair, which reached well past his shoulders, filled her thoughts. He had a broad forehead, sharp features with wide cheekbones, and lean, almost aristocratic lips, as well as the brightest gray eyes she’d ever encountered, amazingly close to colorless, like lightning. He’d held her close for a brief moment, his broad shoulders blocking the surrounding area. It was a wonder she’d found her own feet, her mind still awash with emotions and signals that were overloading her senses.
Usually she stayed away from men altogether, but couldn’t restrain the need to help him that night at the club. Men and their intentions were usually obnoxiously obvious, so easy to read. Their lust could make her stomach heave, but it hadn’t been like that with Diego. He’d been extremely gentle, in fact, even though he’d dwarfed her height by at least a foot.
She slumped into her chair, limp arms winding around her middle, to stare at nothing. Why couldn’t she forget him?
“Do you really want to?”
She squeaked, snapping up straight. “Diego?”
“Yes,
cara
.
”
Her tongue darted out to her bottom lip. “I didn’t imagine you.”
Oh, God.
She was definitely losing her mind.
His voice teased like a caress against her inner ear.
“
No, Titania. I am very real. I want to hear you sing. Would you sing for me tonight?”
She couldn’t hide the blush heating her cheeks, grateful no one was there to see it. “I would love to.” She really liked the way he said her name. He softened the hard stroke of the “T”s into a sensuous sound.
A knock on her door had her turning in her chair. “Five minutes,” came the muffled warning. She answered, knowing Houston would be coming to get her next.
“Do not worry,
cara
.
I will be watching over you tonight.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not worried.” She heard his male laughter drift away. A moment or two later, as predictable as the sunrise, Houston tapped on the door, then popped it open.
He leaned in. “You ready?”
“When you are.”
Houston slid in, resting against the closed door behind him. He stuffed his hands into the rear pockets of his leather pants. Tonight was a full arena concert, not a courtesy stop. Both were dressed for the full show. A knowing gaze raked over her, missing nothing. “How are you feeling?”
Tani hid the groan.
Didn’t we go over this last night?
“I’m fine. Just like I’ve told you for the last three days.”
“No more running off in the middle of a concert?”
Her eyes dropped, hearing the chastisement. She knew her actions had cost them a concert and had pissed off a large number of audience members, many of whom had been waiting for days to see her. But she refused to regret it.
“No, no more taking off.” Houston was more than just her friend and fellow band member. Ages ago, her mother in her
wisdom
had appointed Houston as her guardian and keeper. He loved doing the job too, which rankled her more than she’d ever admit. It wasn’t like she was an adult or anything now, she miffed to herself. Tani ceased the mental argument. It was no use. She met his watchful gaze, and raised her right hand. “And I solemnly swear to not throw myself at strange men ever again.”
His light brown eyes sparkled in humor. “All right then. Let’s go knock ‘em dead.”
She laughed, knowing he was upset but not really mad. Rising up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. Very few knew her the way Houston did, or understood her. “You’re the best.”
Houston arched an eyebrow. “Could you say that again when Laney’s around?”
She groaned playfully and followed him out to find their marks on stage.
* * * *
Diego’s blood heated upon hearing her voice. For three long nights he fought the temptation to see her, to hear her, but the need that had exploded upon him that first night had not gone away or lessened. Watching her walk onto a darkened stage in a full-length white silk creation drew his needs into a roiling hunger again.
What am I supposed to do with a woman?
Diego snorted.
That
craving had not waned because of the distance and time her tour put between them. His need to ensure she was safe was still with him, burrowing into him, a gut-deep necessity. Unable to confirm her well-being for himself, with his own eyes, had driven him slowly insane. Needs and desires were swirling through him, clawing at him. Titania was reawakening emotions and thoughts, wants which were as dead as him.
Houston’s guitar hummed, the slow-building wailing sound eerie, silencing countless conversations within the concrete walls. Her magical voice floated from the depths of the blackened stage as though an unseen goddess sang for them. Even prepared for her, the beauty of the notes made the hair on his arms stand up with the pure energy she unleashed.
Drums slammed in unison with the first drawn chords and lights exploded, flooding the stage. Diego was swept away, the effect gripping his attention. She reached out in a way Diego was learning was something only she could do, enfolded every heart and soul into her web of faith, hope and love.
He leaned unseen against the wall, completely willing to fall into that web. When the wave of sensation-rich sound reached out to him specifically, his eyes drifted shut with the pure, joyous melody.
How can she do this?
Diego knew she sang for him, though it held a shy, tentative edge. His lips softened, unaware of the action as he floated with her words.
Through the concert, listening to her voice, her passion in each word, her compassion in every note, something dormant shifted inside Diego. That unrecognizable need Titania created gained definition. Pale gray eyes pierced the subdued lighting.
Diego shut out the combined echoes of numerous beating hearts so close to him, focusing only on her as he considered this new possibility.
Could it be? What did it mean?
Crossed arms fell to his sides as he stood straight, his gaze zeroed in on the beauty onstage.
He was death. Undead. Whatever a person wanted to call it. How could he feel like this? How could he want? Feel desire? And why her? Diego knew the idea was not feasible, but it was there, and could not be dismissed now that it had been born.
Locked on her graceful stride, her body swaying with the music, Diego breathed one word and felt it all the way to his soul. “Mine.” The instant he spoke the word, he knew it was true. It could not be undone. Possessiveness slammed into him.
Fleeting sensations and emotions Diego dismissed the night she had thrown herself at Brakka to protect him returned. Was this why he had not used her to cure his wounds? There had been time, yet… The desire to protect her was stronger. His need for blood had been there, but subdued, until he found the next person, then his hunger had been ravenous. Diego had not once thought of taking from her, and had not examined the nuances of that night until now.
Like the texture of her hair gliding like silk through his fingers when he had never noticed something so unimportant. Diego had
craved
to feel the weight of it on his fingertips. Or the color of her eyes, discovering they were a depth of blue he had only witnessed in the deepest oceans. Compelled to offer comfort while she battled demons of the evening in her hotel room. Because she had fought
for
him. When he had needed no one, nothing more than to survive, to avenge himself, this woman was creating indefinable appetites within him. Hungers. Heat, and he knew it was because of her. Titania. The only one. Sultry, seductive.
Mine.
It burned like a brand into his thoughts now that it had been spoken. Tonight she was even more alluring, more beautiful, more
everything
. The sway of her loose hair glistened beneath the bright lights. The seductive cadence of her song, the driving pitch of her voice. He clenched his jaw, hiding the proof of his lust behind uncompromising lips. Fire raced through his veins instead of blood. He was burning up, and all he had heard was her voice.
He heaved a rare full sigh of relief when she broke for her first set, leaving the stage to change. Watching her, feeling her as she gave of herself to help others in the audience who needed, made his entire body ache. Diego did not understand it, and knew even less what to do about it.
When the lights came on in the auditorium, Diego trailed her and her band with the silent speed of his kind. Hidden from human eyes in a corner of her dressing room, he watched shamelessly as she changed with practiced ease and a few extra hands to help. He bit back the unexpected growl of anger caused by those hands touching her, helping her slip from one gown into another. Those hands were touching his woman, ensuring she was smoothed and fresh for the next set. He did not care about the reasoning. Fists tightened unconsciously. A possessiveness he did not understand was boring into him, tearing into his equilibrium. She was getting to him so fast he had no idea how to fight back.
Titania must have sensed his roiling emotions. Her head snapped up, and she pierced the corner where he stood with bright eyes, a furrow knotting her brow because even if she
felt
Diego’s internal battles, she would be unable to see him. The beat in her neck pulsed, drew him, forced his hunger to the surface. Diego swallowed, knowing if he could, he would be sinking his teeth into the creamy softness of her throat right that second. Sheer strength of will kept him from letting his control snap. Her gaze widened as if sensing the threat. The most incredible eyes, staring.
A crack in his control and he reached out, a single finger gliding down the warmth of her cheek, discovering her again. Smooth skin, like satin, just as soft as he remembered. Her breathing hitched, blood pounding in an erratic rhythm, both completely absorbed, oblivious in that moment to the world around them. His fingers itched to curve around her throat, to pull her to him. His lips burned to touch hers. For the first time, he craved not her life, but the sweetness of nectar.