Ascension Page 42


She could really be with this man. Yes, this vampire. She gazed deep into the future and saw an eternity of him. She took his hand and smiled into his face. She laughed with him and cried with him. She bore his children and nagged him about putting up Christmas lights and helping the kids with homework. She admonished him to keep his sword-hand wicked and his tongue in her mouth or anywhere else he wanted it.


She wanted these things painfully.


Yet she still couldn’t move. She felt pinned to the spot where she’d landed, her bare feet stuck like chewing gum to cement. Fear of this new world held her fast. She still didn’t know the rules. Besides, wasn’t it possible she could still end up hurting Kerrick because of her powers in ways she couldn’t yet conceive? She hadn’t hurt him earlier on the couch in Carefree, but he’d been beside her, not in her. Oh, God. Okay.


He opened his eyes, smiled faintly at her reticence and nodded. He slid off his stool then moved to the coffeemaker. Her gaze followed hungrily. The muscles of his arms bunched and twitched. His knuckles paled as he grabbed the coffeepot. He topped off and returned to his stool.


He struggled, just as she struggled.


He set his mug down then gripped the counter. He stared into the flecked green granite. He released a heavy sigh, picked up his mug, then sipped again.


Her heart strained toward him. She suppressed the sensation. “You have a lovely home,” she said.


He met her gaze. Did she see relief in his eyes because she’d mentioned something so ordinary? “Thank you,” he responded.


“I really like the twigged ceilings.”


He nodded. Sipped.


She glanced to her right and had a clear view through a second doorway into the living room. Her gaze skipped up to the ceiling where more branches, stripped bare, were laid side by side. “Beautiful texture, unique, especially with the terra-cotta color behind. You must love this home.”


“I do … today,” he said.


She shot her gaze to his. A wave of cardamom nearly knocked her flat. She braced a hand against the nearest kitchen cabinet and took a deep breath. Okay. She really shouldn’t go there.


She tried another subject. “Did you know there’s a rack of clothes in my room?”


“I’m not surprised. Endelle’s staff would want to take good care of you. So tell me, what do you remember from last night, after the attack in Carefree?”


The gum disappeared from the soles of her feet. She moved, albeit slowly in his direction, crossing the kitchen to the massive granite island. She moved to stand at the side of the island off to his right, the coffeemaker behind her. Her palm slid over the mirror-smooth stone. “I recall a flash of light then standing in front of a man with long sandy-colored hair, though not much else.”


“You passed out from your injury. Do you remember the shoulder wound?”


“That’s right, I got hit.” She rotated her left arm. “What happened? I mean, I hardly feel anything. Only a little muscle ache remains.”


“Endelle healed you.”


“She was there? The ruler of Second Earth? And she healed me?”


“Of course,” he said. “She also gave you a mind-shield that will protect you until about seven tomorrow evening.”


“Oh. Now I understand. I tried to reach out to my home, to see if anything was left, but couldn’t get far. I suppose I should thank her.”


“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunity to return the favor.”


“She’s the demanding type?”


“You have no idea.”


“Who was the man I saw? He was almost as tall as you and quite good-looking. Very muscular.” His gaze hardened and his fangs made an appearance, a sudden reminder she’d entered not just a world of dimensions but a vampire-warrior world as well.


She blinked as her gaze rested on the sharp tips of his incisors. Assuming she survived this journey, one day she would sport a pair of fangs and … she’d make use of them. Her lungs seized at the thought of putting her fangs at Kerrick’s neck. The breath she drew sounded like she was dragging air through a fine-mesh screen.


She thought she heard a faint growl. She listened harder. The warrior with all the gorgeous black hair was growling. Because she’d said the other man was good-looking and muscular? Uh-huh. A clear case of caveman possessiveness … and it kind of got to her.


He didn’t meet her gaze as he sipped his coffee. “Thorne. He’s Endelle’s right-hand man, the leader of the Warriors of the Blood.”


He drank again, though shifting his gaze this time to watch her from just above the rim of his mug. A new growl formed, deepened, then got louder, a sound that rumbled right through her chest, weakened all her stomach muscles and the tendons supporting her knees. The smell of cardamom grew stronger.


Wow. If she hadn’t been working out she would have dropped to the tile by now.


Still, some devil worked in her and she couldn’t resist teasing him. In a strong voice she said, “You know, Thorne has a real aura of command, doesn’t he?”


The growls escalated but he chugged his coffee once more then did some more granite-staring.


Okay, so maybe she was being a little mean, teasing him as she was. She’d stop now. She looked him up and down and all her desire for him once more made an appearance, whipping through her like a wildfire. He wore jeans that did little to disguise his powerful thighs, and a snug tee molded to massive pecs. She stifled a groan. Her gaze skated lower, all the way to the floor. The man was also barefoot. Damn. Even his feet were sexy as hell. More wire-screen breathing.


Her gaze took a turn and shifted to her own shoeless feet. A strange dizziness passed through her mind. They were alike. Oh, no.


She swallowed and spoke quickly, “My head feels fuzzy. Is that the shield?”


“Yes.”


“And no one can find me?”


“No one. A shield like this causes confusion but it’s also illegal to use on ascendiates so we’re awaiting the repercussions.”


Alison nodded. “As with the emergency lift you called?”


“Yep.”


“So we’re in trouble.”


“Yep.”


She looked away from him. “Well, what’s the deal with my house and my Hummer? By now I’m thinking the police will be all over the rubble, probably looking for terrorists or something.”


He shook his head. “Thorne sent Zacharius out to take care of things after the Commander’s war party went home. The Hummer’s fine—well, except for the blasted-out windows, fender damage, and oh, yeah, you need a new roof. As for the house, mostly rubble. Endelle has already arranged for a crew to rebuild.”


“Is she doing that for me?” she asked, surprised.


“Sorry. This is about appearances and secrecy. There’s a very complex mist around the property until the renovation is complete.”


Alison shook her head. “Okaaay, then.”


“So why a Hummer? You have a sad little Nova and then a powerful, environmentally unfriendly vehicle.”


“I’ve had it several years and I admit I love it. It’s so big and roomy. My height is an advantage in many ways but not in small cars. The Nova I’ve had with me since my teens.”


“The Hummer’s more of a man’s car, though.”


“Yes, I suppose so.”


She nodded and rubbed a hand once more over the smooth granite. She glanced up then shifted her gaze anywhere except in his direction. He was staring at her and she so hoped he wouldn’t guess her thoughts because a quite humiliating epiphany had just swamped her brain. She had bought the Hummer as a promise of the future. She wanted a man in her life big enough to fill a vehicle that size and … there he was sipping coffee and looking incredibly hot in a snug, pec-shaping T-shirt, blue jeans, and, oh, yeah, sexy bare feet.


She turned around and crossed to the coffeemaker. A second mug sat beside a bowl of sugar along with a small pitcher of milk. “Did you put this here for me?” she asked, over her shoulder.


“Of course.”


There was no such thing as of course. Dammit, the man was thoughtful about small things. Great. Just great. One more reason to like him way too much.


She poured herself a cup, added just a dollop of milk, half a teaspoon of sugar, stirred then took a sip. She almost choked. “You kind of like your coffee strong.” She turned back to him and cleared her throat. Twice. Her eyes watered.


He smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I would have warned you if you hadn’t gone on and on about Thorne and his aura of command.”


She laughed. “Yeah, the whole Thorne thing was a bitchy thing to do.”


“Yes, it was.”


Unfortunately, he was really close, and when she took her next breath she smelled his wicked cardamom scent all over again. She felt the strongest impulse to launch herself at him and end this ridiculous misery.


* * *


Havily stood on the front porch of Warrior Kerrick’s Queen Creek house. She had her attaché in her right hand and she held her left fist poised at the solid wood door, ready to strike, to let her presence be known, but her mind traveled in circles around the recent events at the Cave.


Fennel had become fixed in her sinuses and leached into her brain every now and then to remind her she had seen the recently recalled Warrior Marcus for the first time and had experienced several inexplicable reactions to him.


She flared her nostrils and tilted her head back. She lowered her fist back to her side. She closed her eyes and let the remembered smell tease her senses. And every time she did, her breasts swelled and tightened, her abdomen rolled down and down, then the most delicious sensation tugged at her deep internal muscles. Even her fangs tingled, anxious to emerge.


She had known all the warriors for decades now, having met them during her ascension nearly a hundred years ago, when she had needed their protection. While Luken had served as her guardian at the time, the process had given her the opportunity to get to know each one.