Abandoned to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 3) Page 4

  Ivana ignored the voice of reason telling her she was out of her depth, telling her that to reveal anything was sheer folly. Utter madness. But lust clawed away at logic. She focused her thoughts, roused the image of him lying naked on her bed, relived the moment he had thrust inside her for the first time.

  A pleasurable groan escaped from his lips as his head fell back against the copper rim. She looked over at him, conveyed the true depth of the passion she had experienced at his hands — almost lost herself in transferring the erotic memory.

  “What are you doing to me?” he groaned, relinquishing control to the power of her mind as she let him feel the emotions they had shared upon finding their release. “Oh, God. Why … why am I seeing this?”

  “I am giving you a taste of what happened here. I am letting you see it was not all as horrifying as you believed it to be.”

  He shot up, water spilling out onto the floor. “It is some sort of evil trick,” he spat yet his eyes were glazed, his lids heavy.

  “It is no trick,” she whispered as the ripples of desire subsided. “I stole your memories when I stole your humanity. In seeking an explanation for what I did to you, you are seeking the truth. Whether you wish to accept it or not, you were a willing party in most things.”

  “No.” His wide eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. “I … I would have remembered.”

  “Your licentious conduct in the tavern marked you as someone deserving of a life of agonising torment,” she said. “And I’m certain when you hear all I have to say you will not blame me for it. But if you want answers, you must accept that you were the one who made the ultimate decision.”

  “Decision,” he repeated sounding somewhat delirious. “What decision?”

  Ivana smiled. “You begged me to bite you, Leo.”

  Chapter 5

  Leo jumped out of the metal tub. “You’re lying,” he said ignoring his state of undress as he strode over to the bed. “What man of sound mind would want to live a life like this?”

  Her amused gaze drifted over him, lingering on his chest, falling to the place no decent woman would dare to look. Desire still simmered inside. He knew it would not take much for his lust for pleasure to overwhelm him.

  How could this be?

  He wanted to drive his sword into her heart, drive his cock deep into her core.

  “That is the point, Leo,” she said unperturbed by his angry countenance as she stood to face him. “You were not of sound mind. You were possessed by a need for carnal pleasures. Indeed, it is your weakness for the sins of the flesh that led me to you.”

  She was speaking, but he was struggling to listen.

  Despite his ire, he could not shake the erotic images of their coupling she’d infused into his mind. For some reason, they felt so real to him. The level of satisfaction he experienced at the moment of climax was like nothing he had ever felt with anyone else before.

  Were they forgotten memories? Or was this just another form of cruel manipulation?

  He was determined to find out.

  “If what you say is true, if we were joined as you have shown me, then kiss me now. Let me feel the truth from your lips.”

  Fear flashed in her bright blue eyes, and she swallowed visibly. “I … I can’t.”

  Anger pushed to the fore, anger mixed with an odd sense of disappointment. He knew his request would reveal her to be a liar. “What?” he mocked. “We shared one passionate night and now—”

  “Six nights,” she corrected.

  Leo took a step back, her declaration dinting his usually impenetrable armour. Six nights? Two nights for every year as a monster was a heavy price to pay for pleasure.

  “You kept me here for six nights?” he said incredulously. Six blasted nights and all he could recall was a flight of dusty stone steps?

  “I did not keep you here.” She glanced at the floor but noting his cock was but a few inches away from her gown, her gaze shot back to meet his. “Yes. I may have manipulated your thoughts initially. When I first brought you here, my intention was to hurt you as you hurt others, to make you pay for all eternity. But I made a mistake. I should have dealt with the matter elsewhere.”

  Leo recalled Elliot’s recount of the night the golden-haired devil turned him. “You mean you should have abused me in the graveyard, left me on the cold floor of a mausoleum.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and she whispered, “You speak of Elliot?”

  “Of course I speak of him. Why, have there been others?” The thought of an army of gentlemen imprisoned in tombs during daylight hours sent bolts of rage racing through him. He grabbed her by her upper arms and shook her. “How many more are there? How many? Tell me. How many men have you sunk your rotten teeth into?”

  “Three,” she gasped. “There have only been three.”

  At the sight of her fearful expression, something snapped inside him. He did not know why a sudden wave of sympathy swept over him or why the need to soothe her overtook all else. His gaze fell to her full lips, slightly parted as she panted for breath.

  Hell and damnation! It was like there were two men inside him — one eager for revenge, the other desperate to bed her, to love her again.

  A solitary tear trickled down her cheek. “You loved me once,” she whispered as though party to his thoughts. “You were kind and tender.”

  “I don’t remember a blasted thing.” He pulled her closer to his needy body as only one thought consumed him. “But I intend to rectify that problem.”

  Without another word, he claimed her lips. The kiss was rough, impatient, far from gentle. Within seconds, desire ignited in a powerful explosion of lust and longing. She clutched his shoulders; he gripped her soft buttocks as he rubbed against her. Their tongues became lost in each other’s mouths, their groans and pants audible proof of their uncontrollable passion.

  Bloody hell!

  No other woman had ever tasted as good. A fire burned inside him, a desperate urge to pound into her over and over again. All other thoughts became incoherent amidst the voice telling him to take her — right now. As the need grew more intense, his fangs burst out from their sheath. The sweet taste of her blood as the sharp points grazed the sensitive skin of her lips was like a potent aphrodisiac.

  Damn. He was so hard he wanted to tear her gown from her luscious body, sink his teeth into her neck and drink the nectar of the gods.

  Never in all his lascivious liaisons had he been able to express himself so freely. Even though he despised the monster within, the sheer strength emanating from him, the overwhelming sense of hunger tearing through his veins made the experience all the more pleasurable.

  Was this what he had been searching for night after night when he wandered the ballrooms of the ton? Was the hope of rekindling a forgotten memory the real reason behind his constant search for satisfaction?

  Elliot was right about his preoccupation with a particular type of female.

  The thought of his friend and brother brought him crashing down from the dizzying heights of ecstasy. To bury himself deep inside this woman would mean betraying the brother who had saved him.

  With a sense of deep anguish, he tore his mouth from hers and stared into the beguiling face responsible for his torment. The whites of her eyes were tinged red; her fangs were visible too.

  “I … I can’t,” he panted though his body wanted nothing more than to mate with her. “I cannot betray the brotherhood.”

  She remained silent as she stared at him. Despite numerous efforts, he could not read her thoughts.

  “You were right,” he continued as he stepped back, shock and a bittersweet craving ravaging his thoughts. His jutting erection proved too much of a distraction, and he moved to the bed, grabbed the breeches and dragged them up over his hips. “I cannot deny that an undeniable connection exists between us. But I cannot forget the pain and misery you have caused, to me and to others.”

  She sighed, flopped down onto the bed as though her legs could no lon
ger support her weight. “I understand. I knew what would happen once our lips met. Perhaps when you hear all I have to say you may think a little differently. Perhaps when I have explained why I let you go, you will know I am not the devil you believe me to be.”

  Curiosity flared.

  “One thing is certain,” he said trying to sound amused as a way of easing the wave of sadness taking hold. “I no longer have need for my sword.”

  How could he take her head now?

  She gave a weak smile as the white points disappeared and her eyes sparkled again. “Then I have accomplished something this evening.” She stood, located her robe and shrugged her arms into it while he reached for the shirt and threw it over his head. “Come. Let us resume our conversation downstairs. In a place where we are not apt to give in to temptation.”

  “I’ll need to drink.” Nothing she could give him to soothe his craving would taste as good as her blood.

  “Of course. Once we’ve spoken, it will be too late, too hazardous to attempt to return to the tavern before sunrise. I suggest you accept the offer of a chamber and rest here until night falls again.”

  Leo considered the row of windows spanning the length of the room. “I assume you do not stay in this room once the sun has come up?”

  She shook her head. “No. I have a different chamber for the daylight hours. Some rooms here are accessible before dusk, but Sylvester will explain it to you when he escorts you to your room.”

  As they descended the narrow staircase, it occurred to him that he did not know her name. “Again, you seem to have an advantage,” he said feeling a little calmer, more relaxed in her company. “You know my name, yet I do not know yours.”

  “You have forgotten many things,” she said as he suddenly pictured himself crying out her name in the wild throes of passion.

  It came to him then, as clear as the stars in a cloudless sky. “Ivana,” he whispered. “It’s Ivana.”

  She smiled, and the warm glow in his chest returned. “It sounds good to hear it fall from your lips again,” she said as he followed her into the Great Hall.

  With the vaulted ceiling towering fifty feet or more above, the arched beams were an impressive sight to behold. A huge stone hearth filled one wall; the giant trophy heads of numerous animals littered another. There were few windows. Had it not been for the bright orange flames burning in the grate, Leo imagined the room would feel dark and oppressive. It posed the perfect place for a creature of the night to relax during daylight hours.

  “Please sit,” she said gesturing to the two chairs hugging the fire. “I keep but a small staff, for obvious reasons. Julia will attend to us this evening.”

  He understood the need for privacy. “With the nature of our affliction, there are not many people one can trust.”

  She nodded. “I would trust Julia and Sylvester with my life.”

  “Then you are truly blessed.” His thoughts drifted back to Elliot and Alexander. He hoped they would understand his reasons for coming to Bavaria. Nevertheless, he had no idea how he would explain the recent turn of events.

  Blood was brought to them in tall glass vials. Leo turned the thin cylindrical object around in his fingers before drinking down the rich burgundy liquid. He handed the empty tube back to a nervous-looking Julia, finding the process vastly different from the way he usually fed.

  Elliot had taught him to find pleasure in the ritual. To drink as one would the finest wine or cognac. Ivana’s method lent itself more to the medicinal: a foul tincture to be drunk quickly, neatly, the used vessel removed so as not to remind the patient of their dreadful condition.

  “Am I to assume you do not take pleasure in drinking?” Leo asked, curious to know the reason behind her detached approach.

  Ivana glanced at the opening of his shirt, moistened her lips when her gaze drifted up to his neck. “I have on occasion. But it is like drinking vinegar as opposed to … well, I am not sure you would understand.”

  The vial had contained goat’s blood. His experienced palate could identify the animal purely from the taste. But she was mistaken if she believed him immune to the potent lure of drinking directly from the host.

  “I have drunk from the source,” he said, for once feeling no shame for admitting the truth. “Numerous times.”

  Her eyes grew large as she sat forward. “But you can’t have … you mustn’t. Yes, perhaps only the first time when your body is embracing the change. But I manipulated your thoughts so you would not hurt others anymore.”

  “Then in my case you have failed.” He steepled his fingers as he examined the frown marring her brow. “I have drunk from the pretty necks of a few women.”

  Indeed, in those moments, it was like another man possessed his mind and body. In those moments when he lost control, Elliot was always there to take care of things.

  Ivana’s hand shot up to her throat. “You drank directly from a vein?” she muttered almost to herself as she shook her head so vigorously one could not mistake the fact she found the idea abhorrent. “Leo, you must not do so again. Promise me. Promise me you won’t.”

  Anger flared in his chest. He would not be drinking blood at all had it not been for the night she sank her fangs into his neck. Why should she be concerned for him now?

  “I’ve spent the last three years fighting the urge to bite. Sometimes, I am just too weak to resist.”

  “But you must. You do not understand—”

  “It seems there are many things I don’t understand,” he interjected with an air of frustration. “Many things I don’t remember.”

  She came down to kneel on the floor in front of him and put her hands on his knees. His cock stirred as he conjured an image of her taking him into her mouth.

  Bloody hell!

  The animalistic instincts he always fought against were so prominent, so powerful when in her presence. The desperate urge to mate with her, to drink from her, to have her completely at his mercy was compelling.

  “It is my fault, Leo. When we were joined we … we drank from each other. It heightened our pleasure, made us stronger, made us feel invincible.”

  They had bitten each other whilst he’d thrust inside her?

  The erotic image played out before his eyes. Hell, no wonder he struggled to control the devil inside when parading about the ballrooms of Mayfair.

  Come to think of it, every woman he had ever bitten had possessed blue eyes and golden hair. Elliot often mocked him for it. Relief coursed through him. He had always thought himself to be the weakest brother, the most infantile, the most reckless. Now it seemed he had been desperately trying to recapture a memory.

  “It all makes more sense to me now,” he said staring meditatively into the flames. He was silent while his mind absorbed all she had said. When his gaze locked with hers, he could see the truth in her eyes. “I’ve spent the last three years looking for you. I’ve spent three years searching for the same level of satisfaction I must have experienced here.”

  His words did not placate her. “Drinking from the source alters you. It hardens your heart to all emotion. It makes you see things differently.” She glanced down, struggled to look him in the eye. “It is part of the reason I let you go.”

  Her voice broke on the last word, the high-pitched cry revealing suppressed emotion. She shot to her feet and turned away from him to gaze into the flames.

  Leo stood and put his hand on her shoulder. “What do you mean, Ivana, when you say you let me go?”

  She turned to face him, her eyes red and watery. Never in his wildest imagination would he have believed the devil woman capable of shedding a tear.

  “There is so much to tell you,” she whispered as he wiped a tear away with the pad of this thumb. “So much I have kept hidden inside.”

  “Then you must tell me everything. That’s the reason I came here, to understand why you chose to punish us.”

  “And to seek revenge,” she added.

  “Yes, that too. But things are dif
ferent now. I painted a picture in my mind, and I have lived in constant fear of the image. Now, in reality, the scene is not how I remember it. The lines are distorted, the figures hazy. What appeared grotesque no longer rouses the same feelings of disdain within me.”

  “Then let us sit, let me paint a different picture for you. Let me settle your mind before you leave here.”

  The thought of leaving caused a sudden stabbing pain in his chest. In truth, he had never felt at home anywhere. In the ballrooms of London, he could not be himself; he was just another actor playing a role, just another gentleman looking for a way to fill his time. Life held no meaning. Without his friends, his brothers, he had nothing.

  Yet here, in the darkest depths of the devil woman’s lair, he felt normal.

  He felt as though he belonged.

  Chapter 6

  The taste of Leo’s lips had been her undoing.

  During the journey in the carriage, she imagined giving him the explanation he desired. Hoping then he would leave satisfied in the knowledge she’d had a justifiable reason for turning him. Either that or he would use his sword to put her out of her misery for good.

  But as soon as he stepped over the threshold, memories of their time together in the castle came flooding back and her steely composure crumbled. Since that first night, there had been an unexplainable attraction between them. The feeling went deeper than lust, perhaps even deeper than love — if there was such an emotion.

  The years since their separation had been unbearable. Her bleeding heart had not even begun to heal. She could find no logic or reason for the depth of feeling consuming her. The number of nights or the length of time spent in his company held no significance. An hour spent together was as fulfilling as an entire lifetime for others.

  “Start at the beginning,” Leo said settling back into his chair and crossing his legs at his ankles. He looked relaxed, comfortable and she knew he would not remain so for long.

  “Then I shall begin with the night I bit the lord in the mausoleum,” she said wearily. She could not bear to talk of the night she lost her own humanity. “I was bitter, resentful, consumed by anger. I had been watching him for days, witnessed various unscrupulous acts.”