Vampire In Her Mysts

Meagan Hatfield

Bounty hunters had wounded and abandoned him in the Mysts, a dark haven for the supernatural. But vampire Yuri Feodorovna thinks he has found the key to survival when he sees Ileana Tarasova, a beautiful servant of the Goddess.

Yuri is filled with desire at the sight of her tantalizing body…though it is a desire with a dangerous undercurrent of hunger. He cannot resist his need to feed and possess Ileana, just as she cannot help the way her body responds with eagerness and lust at his touch…

But will Yuri still want Ileana when he learns her deadly secret?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter One

“Where am I?”

Yuri Feodorovna forced his eyes open, his keen vampire senses instantly tasting damp earth and blood in the night air. He lifted his head off the ground. An unbearable ache pulsed through his veins and a fine layer of sweat coated his body. Both sensations were something he usually experienced after a battle.

Pressing a palm into the velvety earth, he pushed himself up to sit.

“Ahh,” he gasped at the spear of agony jabbing through his rib cage. He covered his tender side with his hand, wholly unsurprised to see his palm covered in red when he lifted it toward his face.

“That’s my blood,” he groaned, letting his head collapse against the tree behind him. “That’s…a lot of my blood.”

What in Fatum’s veil happened?

Clutching his waist with one hand, he used the other to push himself up. Standing sent a fresh wave of dizziness through him that threatened to pull him to the ground. Blood seeped between his fingers and streamed down his pant leg. Yuri bit down on his jaw at the current of pain streaming through him. The tip of his fang nicked his lip and the coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth.

“Dammit,” he said on a growl, spitting the mouthful on the grass. As if being ginsu’d across the abdomen by some wannabe samurai blood hunter last night hadn’t been bad enough.

Yuri stopped. An icy cold hand grabbed his heart, as memories of the past few hours came together…the fighting, the clanking of swords and slicing of flesh. In particular, the tattoos embedded across his adversary’s forearms seared into Yuri’s brain. They identified the sword-wielding vampire who attacked him as a vanator. A vampire blood hunter.

Yuri knew those tattoos well.

He should.

He’d worn the same ones for more than a century.

One mystery solved. A vanator had done this to him, he thought, inhaling an uneasy breath. Too bad owning that little bit of knowledge didn’t make him feel any better. He could think of a dozen other beings he’d prefer trying to kill him rather than a vanator.

Before Yuri’s brother Nikolai took over the Mysts, vanators were known as blood hunters—trained killers who assassinated their own from within. Blood hunters took out those vampires deemed not to be following the auld ways. Kings, queens, Dark Council members, corrupt politicians and aristocracy—no one had been safe from the vanators and everyone in their realm respected them and their missions.

Yet now, they’d become little more than bounty hunters. Duty-bound by an undying blood oath to Nikolai, a false ruler and the brother Yuri had been covertly fighting against for the past decade. Ruthless, brutal, the vanators relentlessly stalked their mark. They would not stop until they succeeded in delivering their target, dead or alive, and collecting their bounty.

Now they hunted him…and in the Mysts, of all places.

The holy vampire lands beyond the Fatum, Earth and every supernatural realm in between, the Mysts were a perpetual dark haven where day was never truly day and vampires could roam freely. For that reason alone, this place had always been dangerous territory for any vampire to enter.

Well, it had been pure and utter madness for him to come here.

Yuri dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes. Exhaustion warred with the need to act, to take out his opponents before they could regroup and strike again. He stumbled to the lake, pushing aside the marsh grass and shrubs. Collapsing at the edge, he sank to his knees. Cold water leached into his clothes, sending a chill up his already blood-drained body. He groaned, a tired and weak sound that made him cringe.

Dipping his arm in the pool, Yuri washed the blood away. The caked-on redness seeped into the lake, revealing the tattoos forever embedded on the underside of both forearms from elbow to wrist, marking him vanator to anyone with the gift of sight.

He twisted his arms slightly, exposing the marks forcibly inked alongside his old ones, branding him a traitor to the vanator brethren. His stomach soured. Assassin scum was more accurate. Blood hunters, true vanators were brother to no one. Masters of disguise, they frequently changed personality, occupation and appearance to the point of being chameleons. They always worked alone. And they always hunted their prey until they were either captured or dead.

And for the first time, Yuri was the prey, not the hunter.

A twig snapped in the forest behind him.

Yuri froze. Instinct had him sinking lower into the grass seconds before his brain registered the order. Eyes alert, he scanned the darkness. A thick cloud passed before the moon, shutting out what little light there’d been. Yuri breathed out a curse as night’s veil cloaked the forest around him, further concealing any would-be attacker. Careful to not make a sound, he floated his hand inches above the velvety lawn toward the dagger holstered at his thigh. Holding the weapon in his palm, Yuri fisted the hilt tight and waited.

If it was a vanator who hunted him, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

He swallowed, his grip flexing on the weapon.

The darkness not forty yards behind him suddenly parted, revealing the pale flesh of a woman’s leg. An astonishingly long, slender leg. Yuri blinked. Certain he must be hallucinating from the loss of blood. Yet he remained fixed on the spot, waiting for the apparition to show herself once more. A heartbeat later, a bright flash of red fabric swished in the night, followed by the second bare leg until the woman stepped into full view.

Although the heavy cloak she wore obscured her form, the brief glimpse of red ceremonial robes beneath it identified who she was.

A Kalu.

One of the holy women from the Samostan, a women’s temple devoted to the worship of the Goddess.

Yuri regarded the girl intently, remaining alert even though she posed no real threat to him other than alerting any lurking vanators to his presence.

With feline grace, the woman walked toward the water. The pads of her feet rolled from ball to heel with the elegance of a dancer. His sight in line with her ankles, he studied their delicate structure, the dip and curve of bone and flesh. Each step slid the cloak higher up her legs, first past her knee and then her thigh. Yuri eagerly explored each inch as it became visible. The curve of her calf, sway of her knee and slender thigh, each inch more enticing than the last. For a woman devoted to prayer and books, her body was more muscular than he would have thought.

An arm reached back and up. In a deft move, the woman removed the hood, settling the fabric back on her shoulders. His gaze slid to her profile. Skin, so white and pure in the moonlight it could be translucent, glowed with the perfect luster of a pearl. In stark contrast, wave after wave of ebony hair flowed down the enticing curve of her back, resting at the dip of her hip. She looked ethereal. A goddess reminiscent of the one she worshipped.

The female bent to the water’s edge only a stone’s throw away. With the grace of a soaring hawk, her pale arm arced over the water. Yuri caught sight of her wrists, slender and elegant, before she dipped her hands, plunging them into the lake and scooping up water. A moment later, the cloak fell off, pooling to the ground around her feet.

Yuri’s heart skipped. Sweet Goddess, if he thought her magnificent before, she rendered him speechless now.

He’d heard of the alluring, borderline erotic Kalu garment, but had never seen one. Slaves to the Goddess, the Kalu’s attire reflected such. Red arm covers swathed her forearms from wrist to bicep. A narrow piece of fabric crisscrossed over her breasts and curved, wrapping once around her waist, leaving an enticing amount of flesh exposed from her rib cage to her navel. Panels, no more than ten inches wide, hung between her legs to her ankles on the front and back. Deliciously bare, her hips and thighs were concealed by only two ribbons tied in bows at her hipbones. Another slim red ribbon collared her delicate throat.

A sliver of moonlight peeked down from between the clouds, casting a hint of light upon her skin. Yuri’s eyes widened with each new inch of flesh the moonlight exposed.

Tattoos.

This beautiful creature was covered in them. They peppered her flesh, her abdomen, arms, chest and no doubt her back too if he had the opportunity to look. Suddenly, the desire to bare this female to his gaze and study her marked body besieged him.

Unlike humans, who used tattoos the way a male peacock struts its plumage, in the Mysts, each tattoo told a story about the vampire who bore it, for good or ill. Some were put on the body by right, some by force and none were taken lightly. Every mark had meaningful and thoughtful placement. They spoke volumes about those wearing them. The tattoos identified where they were born, what class or horde they belonged to, what specialties they owned, or where their affiliations lay.

In the same vein, if someone placed false tattoos on their bodies, claiming to be someone or something they were not, they would bring shame upon their clan, and in most cases find themselves exiled. That is, if a disgraced family member did not find and kill them first.

Yuri looked down at his inked forearm, studying his own marks. The intricate design rippled as he flexed his grip on one of the weapons of his trade. Yeah, he knew all about those tattoos. But why did she have so many? Kalu were said to be marked as such, but he couldn’t imagine so heavily. Whatever her tattoos spoke about her, Yuri had the clawing urge to read, to learn, to know.

Curious to see if his keen eyesight could make out any symbols or patterns in the darkness, Yuri glanced toward the woman again. His mouth slackened at the sight of her. The female had undone the ties around her neck and now bathed topless by the water. Even in the dim light, Yuri had no problem making out the perfect shape of her bosom. A small tattoo sat nestled in the valley of her chest. However, the flesh of her breasts remained unmarked. Crimped and tight, her nipples looked succulent, two raspberries ripe for the taking.

A hammer of lust began pounding in his veins. A dangerous undercurrent of hunger rippled through him in its wake. The need to feed, to heal, overwhelmed him. His canines throbbed, lengthening on their own volition. A haze of red blanketed his vision. Yuri pinched his eyes shut, trying to get himself under control. He swallowed, groaning at the raw slide of his throat.

A loud female gasp filled his ears.

Yuri cursed beneath his breath. He’d been discovered. If the girl ran, in the state he was in, he’d never catch her before she reached help. Goddess knew what would happen if she sounded the alarm and let the entire Mysts know he was here.

Out of options, Yuri grudgingly utilized the last resource he owned and readied to overtake the girl’s mind.

Zeroing his gaze on the female, he focused on her eyes. Heat bored into his skull and within seconds, his medji self bombarded her mind and took control.

Being one of the last psychic vampires in existence had its perks. But wounded as he was, he knew he couldn’t hold her still for long. He was already getting a sense of this woman and she did not like his mental invasion at all.

Bracing his hands, Yuri pushed up to his knees, feeling pain crawl through him anew. Weak and wounded, Yuri forced himself to appear anything but to the female as he approached her. If the vibrations he picked up from her thoughts were even remotely accurate, she was skittish as a feral cat and had claws just as sharp. Yuri held his back ramrod straight as he neared her, even though his shoulder burned in protest and the unbearable need to vomit rolled through his gut.

After two more steps, he stood in front of her. As his telepathic powers instructed, she remained motionless. Yuri wrapped his fingers around her upper arms, holding her physically as he prepared to release her mentally. But he stared into her face and hesitated.

Dewdrop-shaped eyes of a color he’d never seen before locked on his, a flicker of willful intelligence sparking in their depths. Her eyes seemed almost iridescent obsidian with flecks of color that shifted with each play of light, very unlike a vampire’s flat black eye color. Her slender arching brows matched her high cheekbones. The sultry curve of her mouth instantly recalled the palace courtesans, lush, curvy and willing.

However, her mind intrigued him most. He’d entered her psyche easily enough. She had not been expecting his attack and he’d slipped her mental defenses without difficulty. Yet, the moment he’d gained access to her thoughts, he’d felt her mentally pushing him back. Hard. It had taken all of his concentration to keep her immobile until he could reach her.

Tightening the grip on her he’d let slacken, Yuri pulled out of her thoughts and released her mind.

Like a deer sensing a lion, she instantly moved away from him, trying to run in the opposite direction. However, Yuri held her tightly. Undeterred, she swung, her elbow nearly smashing his nose. Yuri used his years of combat training to efficiently immobilize her upper arms and pin her back flush against his body. When she fought to get away once more, he flashed the dagger he still held in his hand, covering her mouth with the other. She finally quit struggling.

“Don’t make a sound,” he said, fighting to keep his voice controlled and even. “Cooperate, do as I say and I will not hurt you. Do you understand me?”

The female glanced back at him and nodded. Those eyes of hers were big and yet calm, almost assessing in their stare as if she dissected everything about him. Yuri suddenly felt thankful for the darkness. Had this one seen the extent of his wounds, she might have tried to get away again and succeeded this time. And for the next few hours, he needed her.

It was all making sense. Why he’d journeyed to the Samostan in the first place. Why he’d been lurking just outside its outer walls.

Yuri hauled the Kalu to him. The sweet scent of her curled around him, enticing him, making his mouth water. He closed his eyes and dipped his chin to the space between her neck and shoulders, breathing her in. The beast within him responded, his nature sensing a way to heal. Yuri didn’t fight it this time. Instead, he willed his fangs to lengthen, invited the blanket of red to drape over his vision. Yuri closed his eyes, a plan forming in some dark recess of his mind.

I need her. I need her. Those three words repeated in a prayer-like litany in his mind. Perhaps the Goddess had not abandoned him after all. Perhaps she’d dropped one of her servants in his lap to help him. After all, he could use this girl to escape this place. He could use her to get back home.

But first he needed her blood.

Yuri threw open his eyes. His vision zeroed in on the pulse fluttering wildly in her neck. His fangs ached, itching for that first taste of what he already knew would be sweet, hot and tangy blood.

The fingers around his arm tightened.

“Please,” she breathed. The husky sound of her voice, soft and yet strong like steel and velvet woven together, shot straight to his groin. He felt alive with a lustful urge and need he’d not sated in…Goddess, probably as long as the female in his arms had been alive.

Dueling hungers began pulling at him from both sides. However, right now he could only focus on one.

“I apologize for this,” he whispered in her ear.

“For what?”

Ileana Tarasova gasped, her body stiffening as razor-sharp fangs pierced the sensitive flesh of her neck. She lurched forward in an instinctive attempt to escape. However, the man grabbed her to him with a surprising amount of force for someone wounded as badly as he. His arms flexed, coiling tighter around her with each panting breath she exhaled, like a constrictor keeping its prey in place.

Trapped, Ileana’s attention shifted to the bite, to the blood flowing in a hot rush from her body. A swell of panic rose in her gut. Again she wriggled, trying to break free, and again his hold only strengthened. She panted out a breath, her body slouching.

Helpless.

Goddess be damned, she was helpless to do anything other than wait for this monster to stop drinking from her. If he stopped at all. The thought would have made her angry if she didn’t suddenly feel so woozy.

Light-headed, she felt her eyes flutter shut. With her sight cut off, her other senses took over. The intense warmth of his mouth on her throat intensified. The soft brush of the dark goatee framing his lips scraped against her skin. The heat of her blood as it rushed to feed him, and the wake of coolness it left in her veins. A massive shudder racked her body before she went limp in his arms.

Powerful and strong, his muscles held her upright, kept her clutched to his wide and muscular frame. Her chin slid to her chest. Ileana focused on the broad hand fanned across her abdomen just under her breasts. His fingers, elegant and manicured, palmed her flesh in a desperate grip with each pull of his sensual mouth. The curve of her backside heated, her softness molding against his hard build.

Beneath his hands, a deep burning ignited in her core. The seed of heat, no more than a tingling flicker at first. It began to flower and blossom until heat radiated outward in all directions, warming the limbs that had gone cold from blood loss. Her sex clenched and for a moment, Ileana could have sworn the flood of heat sluiced lower. Could have sworn she felt the stirrings of desire awakening inside her.

The man dislodged his teeth from her flesh with a heaving gasp. Ileana released a sigh of her own, one of both relief and strangely enough, of loss. Her neck ached and his warm mouth covered the throbbing skin, suckling and teasing before blazing a trail across her cheek toward her lips. She smelled blood on his mouth. Her sex pulsed, greedy, hungry.

In a daze, she became marginally aware of his long-fingered hands twisting her in his arms with ragdoll ease. Faced with his broad chest, she tilted her chin up. Ileana caught a brief glimpse of a much too gorgeous face and heated half-lidded eyes before he swooped again.

Only this time, he wasn’t after her blood.

Chapter Two

Lips, warm and smooth and utterly male, crushed against hers. Hot and slick, his tongue twined with hers again and again, his mouth sliding over hers in a dizzying glide. At the faint taste of her blood on his lips, the vampire within her sparked to life. Renewed energy perked in her veins and Ileana kissed him back with an urgency and hunger she’d never felt before.

Some part of her brain screamed at her to battle him. The fighter inside told her she should give him one swift kick to the balls and run. Do anything except respond the way her body responded, with warmth and eagerness and lust.

Unbidden, her body sank willingly into his embrace, into his kiss. Then she was falling down toward the ground, her stomach in her throat. Hundreds of stars winked down at her against the pitch-black sky above. Her lower back touched the earth first, followed by her shoulder blades and then her head, as the man laid her down and stretched out beside her.

It wasn’t until he loomed over her that she saw the panic in his eyes, the self-loathing and remorse evident in his haunted gaze. She identified with the look immediately. It was the same one she’d become accustomed to seeing in the mirror.

Ileana shut her eyes.

Don’t look. Don’t feel.

Shaking her head, she tried to heed the mottos repeating in her mind. Yet she couldn’t find the will to obey them. Cold, damp earth kissed her skin, sending trembles along her body. Something warm wrapped around her, lulling her to sleep. Ileana blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake. Trying to complete what she had set out here to do, to not let her guard down. But whatever effect his bite had on her, it still gripped her hard. Finally, she gave in and closed her eyes. Only for a moment, she told herself.

Ileana rocked her head to the side and then the other. A dull ache pulsed in her neck. Absentmindedly, she lifted her fingers to the hurt. Hot and sticky, her blood coated the tips of her fingers. She jolted upright, her hands instantly circling her armbands, ensuring they remained in place. Certain they did, she let out a sigh and tried to think through the sleepiness hovering over her.

She’d only closed her eyes for a moment. Hadn’t she? How long had she been…

“You’re awake.”

Ileana gasped, spinning toward the male voice. It was the man who bit her. He sat on his haunches across from a low-embered fire. The soft light illuminated both his striking looks and his inherent lethalness.

“I am sorry for before, about feeding from you,” he said, dropping his gaze to the stick he poked into the blaze. It hissed in reply, dozens of red sparks feathering into the sky like magical fireflies. “My wounds were too severe. I had no other choice.”

Ileana glanced down at his side and back up, noting he did indeed looked completely healed. Again she clutched her neck, fingering the tender wound. Her other hand palmed her throbbing forehead. Closing her eyes, she massaged them both. Tried to wake up her senses, stoke her anger as this man did the fire. Ever since he bit her, it seemed the clawing drive for revenge that had driven her since childhood had seeped from body. The fact she’d lost her anger now of all possible times, made a slight boil surge in her blood.

Thank the Goddess.

“I swear on my beloved sister’s grave,” he continued. “I will return you to the Samostan as soon as possible.”

Ileana’s brow furrowed. “Why not return me now?”

The man paused, a question in his eyes. “My name is Yuri. What is yours?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Yuri.”

A shadow passed over his already dark features. “I need you.”

“You need me?” she repeated, balking.

Yuri closed his eyes, obviously warring with what he had to do and what he had to say. “I need you to open the doorway to the outerworlds, so I may return home to mine.”

At his admission, Ileana recoiled both internally and physically. The utter gall of what he asked her, or more to the point, informed her she had to do for him, astounded her. Unfortunately it did not surprise her. Everyone in the Mysts knew the blood of a Kalu served as a key to the outerworlds door should all other routes be closed. It figured a Feodorovna like him would put such a theory to test.

“You really are a monster,” she said beneath her breath.

“What did you say?”

“And should I refuse to open a vein to set you free from the Mysts,” she said in a voice loud enough for him to hear. “What will you do then? Will you kill me?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. Had she not been so full of self-righteousness, she might have feared the glint of anger burning behind his heated gaze.

“No, that’s right,” she said instead. “You won’t have to bother dirtying your hands with such a task. You controlled my mind before. It stands to reason you could simply do it again. So, I guess that makes me your prisoner, Yuri,” she said, placing her hands on her barely clad hips. “Now, what shall be your first task for me?”

An intense, dangerous glint sparkled in his eyes.

In one fluid motion, he stood and walked over to her. The sculpted quad muscles of his thighs rolled and bunched beneath his tailored pants. His arm muscles bulged in such a way she knew he clenched his fists alongside him as he walked. When he stood not two feet before her, she realized his fangs hung over his soft lips, sharp and aggressive. The wound in her neck twinged, remembering them embedded in her flesh.

Ileana shivered and wondered what he wanted, what he might do to her. She realized he could do anything he wanted and she would be powerless to stop him.

“Stand up,” he ordered, his tone incensed. “And turn around, Ileana.”

Unaccustomed to a female, any female, driving him to such a maddening brink of lust, frustration and vexation, Yuri fought to keep it together as the female did as he’d bade and stood before him. He didn’t not know this woman, did not know the answers to the thousand little niggling questions whispering in his mind about her.

Though she looked the part of a young Kalu, every honed instinct in his body told him this was no simpering, Goddess-worshipping nun before him. So at her challenge, he decided to do what he’d been dying to do since spying her beside the lake. Yes, he could read her mind. In fact, he just had in order to discover her name, since she was being so stubborn. But right now, he wasn’t interested in reading her thoughts. He only wanted to read her body.

The female stood still, her eyes looking up at him, her forehead barely level with his chin. Realizing she’d yet to follow his second order, Yuri circled his finger, motioning for her to turn. Although those intoxicating eyes of hers flashed defiantly, she kept them leveled on him and slowly spun.

Yuri’s gaze instantly drew to a large back piece commanding her skin from the neck down to both shoulders. An elaborate weaving design encircled a skull, so faint it appeared to be superimposed on her skin. A chill, like death breathing down his neck, wafted over him. Ignoring it, Yuri closed the distance between them.

The body heat emitting from her small frame reached out to him, curled around him. Her scent, that lovely, delicate subtle scent of sweet flowers and honey, teased his senses. Yuri’s mouth watered, recalling the rich flavor of her blood sliding down his tongue and throat. He swallowed hard.

“Tell me about your marks,” he breathed, lifting his hand to the tattoo between her shoulder blades. She made a sound, a swift intake of breath, and tiny goose bumps peppered her skin. Finally, the fiery little nun with the sharp tongue had nothing to say. Yuri felt a smile tug his lips.

“This one looks old,” he coaxed, his finger sliding gently over her skin.

Old and delicate.

Her skin was like a finely milled paper he feared tearing with his calloused fingers. Ileana shifted at his touch, her elegant chin dipping to her shoulder as she glanced back at him. Although he suspected she knew which marking he spoke of without looking.

“That was my first,” she said, softly, definitively. “I was nine. My family had just been slain mere hours before I arrived at the Samostan, afraid, alone.”

Yuri’s mouth slackened. Slain?

“The holy women stripped me naked and scrubbed my skin until it was aching and raw. I begged them to stop, cried for my mum. No one spoke a word to me the entire time. They would only chant the holy words and pray to the Goddess for forgiveness.”

Yuri’s heart tightened with each word, her suffering, her pain more sharp and real to him than the damp night air coating his lungs.

“I remember being relieved when they finally stopped,” she said on a disbelieving laugh. “The respite however was brief. I had no idea who they were. What they were doing. No idea such women or such a place existed. Four of them pinned me down while a fifth marked my skin. Forever letting anyone know my family had been branded traitors and murdered. This one,” she said, gesturing to the tattoo across the back of her neck, fanning out like wings on her shoulders. “It declares my life debt to pay back their sin.”

Yuri cursed under his breath, the barbaric image of those vile women torturing a scared innocent scorching in his brain. He had heard of such a practice, but had never witnessed it firsthand. Then again, he gathered not many men ever had.

In that moment, Yuri felt the significance of her sharing her story. Her trust. Although it didn’t make any sense, he wanted to thank her for telling him, apologize for the hurt she suffered at so tender an age, and murder the ones who’d marked her. Yuri had marks of his own. He’d received his first as a teenager, and he knew the pain. But to be so young and endure such a process made him despise the practice.

“I vowed that night to never become like them. To never forget the horror, the pain,” she said, her voice softening. “To never believe the lies about my family.”

Ileana shifted her hips and then her shoulders in an enticing wave. The thin ribbon of fabric draped over her shoulder slid to the grass beside her feet, baring her back. Yuri’s throat dried. His palms burned to touch her. Not sexually, but for comfort. So much pain, so many trials. A life, written out like a play all over her body, and Yuri took his time reading every act. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Pale skin painted with pictures, images and stories of her life. Hair the color of midnight, so thick and lush his hands would get lost in it.

Yuri leaned closer, breathing her in. Gods, she even smelled soft. Overcome, entranced, she drew him in. He closed his eyes and leaned nearer still. Until his lips almost brushed the downy skin of her tattoo.

Too close.

His hands flattened on her back, clutching her to him in a desperate grip. A breathy sigh passed her lips and Yuri could have sworn she melted back into his touch. Unable to restrain himself, he pressed his mouth full on her warm flesh. This time he was rewarded with a rich, husky moan. The vibration moved through his entire being, like ripples breaking a lake’s glassy surface. It rumbled his foundation until it cracked, releasing a need, a desire he had not felt since…

Yuri took a step back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, the apology a lie on his tongue. He wasn’t sorry. In truth, he wanted more, wanted her. Here. Now. Instead, he moved away.

Ileana spun in his arms, her black eyes open and unapologetic. A soft hand covered his cheek, a long finger running down his neck, over his hammering pulse. When she leaned into him, so close her scent, her softness invaded every pore and inch of him, a sledgehammer of lust and desire pounded through him. Her fingertip continued its lazy glide back and forth along his collarbone, outlining the very tip of the tattoo that continued down both pecs and his ribs. He sizzled in a breath at the contact and swallowed hard before looking down at the female driving him into sensory overload.

“Now,” she said. “Can I see yours?”

Chapter Three

The way he looked at her, Ileana wasn’t sure if he would comply with her request or not. Truth be told, she didn’t know why she had this insatiable urge to see.

Dark and guarded, his eyes stared down at her. Excitement, disbelief and if she read him right, a hint of regret lurked behind them. After a moment, he took a step back and then two. Ileana kept her gaze fixed on his, trying to read his thoughts. Then his arms lifted, his hands grasping the neckline of his shirt, tugging the fabric over his shoulders. Before removing the top from his head, he turned, putting his back toward her.

No longer able to keep eye contact, Ileana lowered her gaze to his waist, the first part of flesh he exposed. Her mouth slackened and a thick hum of desire pooled in her belly.

Goddess, he was gorgeous.

Broad, muscled shoulders tapered down to a slender waist. She had caught a glimpse of tight, dark nipples and his defined abs before he discarded his shirt. In fact, everywhere she looked, beautifully inked flesh concealed the chiseled muscle beneath it. Every inch of his abdomen and back appeared sculpted by an artist. And Ileana decided she’d never seen a more stunning piece of art in all her days.

Yuri stood motionless, fidgeting only slightly under her perusal. However, Ileana felt his nervous energy, saw his heavy swallowing. Although she tried, she could not deny the strong attraction pulling her to him, the almost uncontrollable need to see his markings. His body siren called to her and she obeyed. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she stepped toward him in almost a trance. Until she stood as he had behind her only moments before, her chin barely coming up to his shoulder blades.

Chewing her lower lip between her teeth, Ileana lifted her hand. Reverently, her fingertips touched his shoulder. The muscle beneath her hands jumped. Yuri turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before looking forward once again.

“My father gave me that one,” he said, his voice cool and icy. “It declared me a full-fledged adult male of my horde.”

Ileana licked her lips, her hand moving lower to the horned demon on his rib cage. “Given to me after my first battle,” he said without looking. “The horns represent the two men I killed that day.”

“And this one?” she asked, her hand palming the intricate woven symbol that took up most of his back from ribs to waist.

Yuri cleared his throat. “That is the emblem of the medji. It was bestowed upon me after I was taken from my home to train with the seers.”

“Your family did not try and stop them from taking you?” she heard herself ask before she could stop it.

He shook his head. “It was considered an honor for them to have a medji born son. I became a token, a trophy in their case to flaunt like some medal they’d won.”

Ileana’s heart tightened at his words. Both of them were scarred, physically and emotionally from their way of life, their families.

Dangerous.

By the Goddess, what she was doing was dangerous. She shouldn’t be listening to his stories, shouldn’t be touching his skin. But she couldn’t stop. Slowly, her fingers followed every delicious curve, dip and hollow of his shoulders and back, then down his arms and back up, listening to the story that accompanied each tattoo.

Then she took the backs of his palms in hers, examining them. The hands she’d felt upon her skin looked as elegant and strong as she imagined. Her fingers threaded through his briefly before fluttering back up. When she grasped his wrist and turned his forearm to view the tattoos on the other side of his arm, her heart froze.

“What is it?”

Although she couldn’t hear anything over the hammering of her pulse in her ears, she must have gasped aloud.

“Nothing,” she breathed, dropping his arm and stepping back. “It’s nothing.”

“Ileana, are you all right?”

Yuri had turned to face her. She shook her head, unprepared for what she just saw and doing a damn fine job of showing it.

He moved to follow her but then stopped. One eyebrow lifted quizzically. As if solving the puzzle, he lifted one arm and then the other, looking down at his forearms before looking back at her with narrowed eyes. “You know these marks,” he stated more than asked.

“No, I…” she said, shaking her head, knowing full well the implications if she did.

It didn’t work. “You’re lying.” His eyes glowed red. Fangs dropped over his lips. Ileana held her breath as his handsome face contorted into what she imagined was the last thing his enemies saw before he took their life.

And then he charged her.

Yuri took the female to the ground, tossing her onto her back with enough force to take the air out of her lungs, but not enough to harm her. Ignoring her gasping breaths, Yuri pinned her arms over her head, pushing them into the grass. He covered her body with his, stifling a groan as his hard frame molded against her soft curves.

Using his body weight to keep her down, he captured her hands and pinned them above her head. Disbelief, adrenaline and the lingering pulse of arousal flowed through him with such force he couldn’t think, until the truth of what almost happened crashed over him anew.

“You weren’t coming on to me. You were trying to kill me!”

She wriggled beneath him enticingly, her pelvis pushing up against him in a way that made his balls throb. But he was too furious to care. “Who sent you? Who are you?” He had questions screaming through his mind and the little vixen wasn’t coughing up any answers. Although his brain couldn’t piece together the puzzle of her yet, no nun from the Samostan would recognize his vanator tattoos.

Ileana squirmed again and Yuri’s grip on her wrist slipped. Compensating for the move, he clutched her armbands. Tugging the fabric to her wrists, Yuri thought to use them as an impromptu binding. Thinking he could at least keep her immobile until he could decide what to do with her.

“No,” Ileana shrieked, redoubling her efforts to get free. Yuri pressed more of his body weight atop her, scanning her body, her face for the source of her alarm. Then his gaze settled on the pale flesh of the forearms he’d just uncovered.

His heart stopped, and then withered in his chest. The air sucked out of his deflated lungs. She glanced from him to her upraised arms and quit fighting.

“You’re…”

“A vanator,” she finished for him.

Chapter Four

Yuri paced around the clearing, twirling the short hairs of his goatee in one hand, cupping his elbow with the other. “So, you’re one of the hunters my brother sent to kill me?”

Ileana pinched her lips together and looked away. Even tied to a tree she looked regal and beautiful. Her damned enticing curves that accursed robe hugged were displayed perfectly. Yuri turned from the sight of her, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I bet you’re not really a Kalu at all, are you,” he stated more than asked. “You lied so I would trust you, and then what? You were going to take me to him alive, or kill me and throw my head to the dogs?”

Again she offered no answer.

Fatum’s veil! Her calm and stoic defiance infuriated him. He spun back around. “I hope you know the penalty for placing false markings on your body.”

“It’s not like that,” she said between clenched teeth.

“Then what is it like, Ileana.”

She whipped her head to face him. Long wisps of raven hair cascaded over her shoulder and concealed breast, the ends nearly coiled in her lap. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why? Isn’t it your real name?”

“Of course it’s my name,” she bit back. “I never offered that information, you stole it. But no one calls me by my given name. Not anymore.”

Although her words pricked a nerve of intrigue in him, he ignored it. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, Ileana, you’re the one tied up and captured. Not me. I make the rules,” he said, pointing to his chest.

Goddess, he was acting like some primitive ape, beating on his chest to prove his dominance. Yuri ran a hand through his hair and then over his goatee. This woman infuriated him beyond all reason and measure.

Tracking back to her cloak, he started rummaging through her pockets, looking for something, anything that might prove she wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. Prove his instincts hadn’t been so wrong about her. When that yielded nothing, he tossed the cloak down and sat on a nearby tree stump. Reaching into his back pocket, he retrieved a strand of beef leather he’d put there earlier and snapped off a bite. He wasn’t hungry, but he had to do something. Inaction wasn’t doing his brain any favors.

“Everything I told you before was true.” Her voice cut through the still night, small but strong. “I was a Kalu. But I ran away from the Samostan when I was twenty. I couldn’t abide that place and swore the moment I could, I would leave.”

Yuri flitted his gaze toward her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. When she spoke again, he softened his chewing so he could hear her better.

“I had nothing. No family, nowhere to go. My hate for the world and the clawing need for revenge were the only things keeping me going,” she said, her focus still, her gaze locked on some distant memory. “Becoming a vanator was the easy part. I already had more ink than most of the veterans. And I had a lifetime of bloodlust waiting to be sated lurking inside me. However, being able to pay back the man who killed my family has proven nearly impossible.”

Yuri swallowed and stared at her. “What does any of that have to do with accepting a contract out on me?”

She looked at him as if he’d just asked her why the sky was blue. “You are a Feodorovna. You’re part of the royal family line.” She paused, her jaw clenching. “You’re his brother.”

Yuri sat up, taking notice at the mention of Nikolai.

“Disdain me all you want,” she continued. “But your family doesn’t do good deeds. They don’t save lives. They destroy them,” she spat. “I discovered that about your bloodline at a very young age.”

Her words struck Yuri like a barbed hook through his lungs, ripping away his breath in one swift pull. “Goddess,” he said. “Nikolai killed your parents.”

“Yes.”

At her answer, Yuri dropped his head in his hands. He didn’t need psychic powers to tell him his brother had been responsible for her pain. He read it pouring off her clearly enough.

More blood. More blood on his family’s already stained hands. His trembled with rage. If his twin hadn’t been blocking their psychic link, Yuri knew for a fact he could have sent his brother into a coma with the pure force of hatred and anger he felt for him now.

However, hatred and anger never helped anyone. Yuri ran his fingers through his hair and glanced back at the lovely, strong and passionate young woman across from him. She proved as much. Look what hate and revenge did to her life. The seed his brother had planted inside her grew into evil, twisting vines, coiling around her spirit and threatening her very soul. The realization saddened him. To think of what this beautiful creature could have been if someone had shown her love, kindness, forgiveness.

Yuri sucked in a breath and knew in that moment what he had to do. Undoing the past was impossible. But perhaps her future was not lost.

“Ileana, I am so sorry for your pain, your suffering. If I could but undo it, I would.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand. He is your family, your brother.”

Yuri nodded. “My twin to be exact. Yet we could not be more different. As youths, he would kill a bird and I would try and bring it back to life. He would set a trap and I would make sure I was the first to walk through it so his machinations would not harm anyone else. I came to the Mysts to try and foil his latest plot. But this time he was one step ahead of me. I not only failed in my task,” he said, his voice cracking. “He sent the vanators after me. They nearly succeeded in wiping me out. Would have, had it not been for you healing me.”

She blinked up at him, her big eyes so wary and unsure. Yuri could almost hear the surprise in them. And why wouldn’t she be shocked by his admission? Here she had thought killing him would hurt Nikolai. When, in fact, his brother was the one who hired her in the first place.

“I don’t know about you, but I used to believe the Goddess had forsaken me. Taken everything from me she could and turned her back on me.” He paused, weighing his words in his mind carefully before speaking. “I would be dead if not for you, Ileana. And Nikolai, his evil, would have won yet again. Perhaps she hasn’t given up on either of us just yet.”

Ileana’s brow tightened. So many questions filled her mind. In his one admission, countless beliefs that comprised the web of her life’s ideology and values unraveled. She couldn’t think, couldn’t grasp it all and connect the dots.

“When word traveled about a contract out on a Feodorovna, I thought my long wait was over. Thought I finally had a chance to avenge my family. I knew nothing about you except for your name. Had no idea Nikolai wanted to see you in your grave, as much as I want to put him in his.”

How could she have been so wrong? How could Yuri not be like his brother? How could a Feodorovna be good? How could she be good for that matter?

Yuri glanced down at her, something warm and almost tender in his dark gaze.

Before she could open her mouth to try and explain herself further, a familiar flood of warmth rushed through her veins. It filled her head, sending a wave of sleepiness rippling through her. Ileana tried to blink, tried to hold it back. But the current overtook her. Yuri entered her mind with his ability, and held her captive. Without lifting a finger, he untied her bonds and laid her in the grass.

The strong hold he had on her mind kept her utterly immobile. Yet, unlike last time, she felt no fear, no worry for her own safety. No, this time she could only fixate on the sorrow in his eyes. She felt powerless to do anything to soothe it.

Yuri leaned over her, a slight smile on his lips. Gently, he placed her heavy cloak atop her prone body like a blanket.

“It seems we both have the same goal, my little nun. You wish to kill my brother and so do I. However I cannot endanger your life any further. As a vanator, even being seen with me is compromising to you. My family has brought your heart enough pain. I cannot bear to bring you any more. Please go in peace. May the Goddess keep you safe.”

Ileana gasped and jolted upright.

Yuri’s words rang crisp and clear in her head. His last sentence replayed over and over in her mind. However, the rest of her memories seemed foggy, as if their entire meeting had been a dream. She touched her neck, the bite mark, flinching at the twinge of pain.

No, not a dream.

Where was he? Blinking, she whirled her head from right to left, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. A faint part of her heart hoped she would see him beside the fire. Nothing, only the smoldering remains of burnt-out ash and wood. Like the faint wisps of smoke curling into the sky, he too had vanished.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Ileana spun. Her blood ran cold at the sight of the vanator behind her. Even in the darkness, she recognized him. Seven feet of towering hard muscle, and a face so scarred only one eye opened.

“Misha,” she breathed. Her hand instantly gravitated to her thigh, where she normally stowed her weapon. A low curse passed her lips when she only met bare flesh. Damn Kalu robes. They hid nothing and she’d had to go weaponless in order to trick Yuri. Her heart seized at the thought of him. If Misha had found her, then it stood to reason he would find Yuri too….

“Looks like someone decided to go rogue.”

Rogue? Ileana licked her lips, scanning the ground by her feet and then his for an escape route. “What makes you think I would go…?”

“Don’t be coy with us, Ana,” he bit out, stalking closer, almost clumsy in his confidence.

“I’m not—” She paused. “Us?”

A moment later, two more vanators emerged from the darkness. Ileana recognized them at once, Misha’s little cronies. Goddess, she mentally chided herself. She had not even sensed them. Ileana rose to her feet, backing in the opposite direction. Her feet slipped on the wet mud beneath her bare feet.

“We saw you let him go. Saw him tuck you in for your little siesta and walk away.”

They had been watching? Ileana took a deep breath. She had to play this cool. “If you saw the target leave, then why aren’t you following him?”

Misha offered her a lopsided smile, his eyes undressing her in such a way it made her stomach turn. “Oh, don’t worry. Sergei is tailing the mark. The one you let walk away without so much as a fight.”

He made no mention of Yuri’s medji powers being the reason she hadn’t fought back. That meant they didn’t know about his powers, and perhaps Yuri would get away after all. Ileana only briefly pondered the fact she cared more about his safety than her own before Misha lunged at her.

Hard and firm, his arms snatched her around the waist. He hauled her back against his front. “You know what letting the target go means to the brethren, don’tcha, Ana?” He snatched one of her armbands, ripping away the fabric, revealing the tattoos hidden beneath. His fingers bit into her flesh as he forced her arm up for inspection.

“These are going to have to get changed.” Rough and clumsy, his hands slid down her arms, before veering toward her breasts and around her waist. “Mmm, but first I think this is going to have to come off,” he said, pulling at the ties at her hip. “This is all going to have to come off.”

Rage exploded inside her at the threat. Ileana kicked back her head, smiling when her skull crunched against his nose. He screamed and loosened his grip. The moment the arms around her fell away, Ileana ran forward. The defensive move gave her only seconds. She’d trained with Misha at the academy and knew he possessed an unnatural tolerance to pain. The blow bruised his pride more than his nose and he would no doubt relish the opportunity to make her pay for it.

Ileana made it three strides when a second vanator leapt in front of her, blocking her escape route. He swung his arm in a wide hook jab. Ileana bobbed and weaved, coming up with a hard uppercut to his jaw. Bone hit bone, her knuckles cracking against his skull. Gasping, Ileana again made for the tree line. If she could make it into the brush, she might have a chance to…

Something struck her hard between the shoulder blades. The blow forced the wind from her lungs and knocked her to the ground.

Dazed, Ileana tried to catch her breath. Behind her, the vanators whooped and hollered, as if they’d just taken down a trophy animal in a hunt. Propping her hands under her shoulders, she pressed them into the earth and tried to move, to get away.

Rough hands clawed her shoulders, dragging her upright and launching her forward at the same time. Her torso slammed against an unforgiving boulder. Her palms curved around the cold stone before fingers clutched each wrist, pinning them down. Misha’s fingers dug into her scalp and tugged back hard. Ileana tried to scream, but he wrenched her neck back at such a harsh angle, it immediately stole her breath.

“Come on, Ana,” he drawled, his free hand palming her naked thigh and squeezing her ass. “If you quit fighting now, I’ll make sure you enjoy it at least a little.”

Frantic, Ileana darted her gaze left and right. Her mind raced, searching for a weapon, a way to escape. Her thoughts were so focused on survival, she didn’t register the men flying off her until she toppled to the earth.

The hysterical shouts and cries of the men filled her ears. Trembling, Ileana wondered what new devilry the Mysts might have conjured for her to face. She pivoted on her hip to look toward the clearing.

“Yuri?”

His back was to her. Fists clenched tight at his sides. His broad shoulders shielded her from the sight of Misha, who lay on the ground, rubbing his obviously sore jaw.

Scooting up to sit, Ileana glanced around for the others. Their broken bodies lay sprawled on the grass, limbs cocked in unnatural angles.

“Calm down, brother,” Misha said, nodding toward Yuri’s forearms. “There’s enough of her to go around.”

Yuri took two steps closer and threw up his arms, showing off the ink branding him a traitor. “I’m not your brother,” he bit out. “And she is not interested.”

“I beg to differ.” Misha’s gaze slid to her. His hand reached down to cup his privates. Fingers curling over the still-hard rod, he rotated his hips, his eyes shuttered as he stared at her. “In a few minutes, she would have been begging for more.”

“Bastard,” Ileana breathed.

Yuri’s muscles were jumping behind his shirt.

Before Ileana could get to her feet, Misha began screaming, a high-pitched, earsplitting wail. Frenzied, his fingers clawed at his head with such force his fingernails ripped strips of flesh from his face. Heart racing, Ileana glanced from him to Yuri, unsure what was going on.

Yuri remained unmoving, his back straight, his muscles tensed. Focused. Ileana swallowed, her gaze traveling back to Misha writhing in pain on the grass. Realization dawned.

Medji powers.

Yuri had used his psychic abilities to attack Misha. Or rather, have Misha attack himself. A shudder passed over her skin at the sheer power Yuri possessed. The assault continued for only a few moments before Misha’s body began seizing in convulsions and then quit moving altogether.

Yuri’s shoulders dropped, his muscles relaxed. He stared at Misha for a few seconds, his fingers flexing and closing before he spun around. The sight of him stole her breath. Unruly strands of dark hair whipped across his handsome face. His fangs hung down in lethal points, and a fierce bloodlust filled his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

Momentarily breathless, she nodded. “You came back,” she finally said, her voice still laced with a low-grade panic she did not even try to mask.

He stepped toward her, his hands gently wrapping around her biceps. “Of course I came back.”

Goddess, help her, but her heart fluttered at his words. His hands gripped her tighter, almost desperately. Then, unexplainably, the energy between them shifted. A change passed over Yuri’s handsome face. The worried façade dissipated, leaving the mask of indifference he’d worn most of the evening. The one she had a feeling he always stoically wore even though the burden of it nearly killed him.

How she wanted to rip it off, beat and pound on it until it cracked. Until he cracked and leveled those fierce and passionate eyes on her again.

Ileana reached toward him, her hand cupping the side of his face. A low groan ached from him and he leaned into her palm. The façade splintered ever so slightly at just her touch. What would happen if she kissed him? If she peeled the robes off her body and stood bare before him? Thought after thought and countless what-if’s crossed her mind.

Instead, she stepped into his arms. Tilting her head to the side, she tucked hers under his. He inhaled sharply, releasing the air in a shuddered breath. Ileana held hers as she rested her cheek against his chest. When his arms finally closed around her, his chin dropping on the top of her head, she smiled and closed her eyes.

Warmth, safety enveloped her such as she never felt. So much so, she wondered if he’d entered her mind again. She felt…

Home.

Something roared in the distance, a shrieking bellow that rent the sky and made the earth rumble. Yuri clutched her tightly as the sharp wailing continued. The sound cut through her, low and visceral. Ileana’s bones quivered and the flesh covering them shrank in fear.

Keeping his hands on her upper arms, Yuri leaned back, scanning the woods and sky. “Oh, no.”

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the growing noise.

“Red wind.” Wide and alarmed, his black eyes fixed on hers. “We must take cover. Now!”

“Red wind?”

“It’s a sandstorm off the Zavodnica Sea,” he said in a rush. “A giant wall of red will blow miles high in the sky, and move faster and further than an avalanche. The cloud will swallow everything in its path.”

Ileana swallowed, her brain fighting to process the coming scenario. “How soon will it be here?”

Yuri whirled quickly, looking in both directions before settling back on her.

“Minutes.”

Chapter Five

The word had barely registered in her brain before his hand clasped around hers tightly and he started running away from the noise. Legs pumping wildly, Ileana sprinted behind Yuri.

Although she knew she shouldn’t, Ileana glanced over her shoulder. Ominous and blood red, the swirling cloud of particles raced toward them like a living thing bent on peeling the flesh from their bones.

“In here!” Yuri’s voice screamed through the deafening pain racking every nerve in her body. Ileana glanced up in time to see a decrepit shack almost perfectly hidden from view in the overgrown brush. Only a few more steps, she told herself, kicking her legs faster, using the last reserve of strength she possessed. She was thankful that every stride, Yuri kept hold of her arm, kept pulling her along when she thought she might falter.

Finally at the crumbling building, Yuri tucked her arm against his ribs, easing her behind him as he kicked a booted foot on the door. The rotten hinges gave way and the door opened. Yuri ushered them inside and Ileana followed, releasing a grateful breath when Yuri slammed the door closed behind them.

Ileana bent at the waist. Bracing her hands on her knees for support, she pulled air into her lungs.

“We made it,” she panted, the statement voiced more for her own ears than his.

Closing her eyes, she felt Yuri pace the small room. Knew he checked the two small windows she’d spied upon entry, assessing their ability to hold back the coming storm. Had she the strength, she would have done the same thing. Being meticulously thorough was something they had both been trained to do. Yet right now, Ileana couldn’t move. Every muscle in her body felt like rubber. Her legs quivered and she wondered briefly if she might collapse.

“Are you all right?” Yuri’s arms slid around her. Solid and warm, his hand pressed against her lower back, his other cupped the apple of her shoulder, guiding her into his arms. Offering her strength she didn’t have on her own.

She nodded, opting instead to sink to the floor. A heartbeat later, Yuri crouched beside her, his body and arm arching around her like a shield. For the first time, Ileana became potently aware of his size, his solid strength and intoxicating maleness. She’d never needed anyone to protect her, never wanted to depend on anyone else for her own safety. Yet she recognized some inherently female part of her had awoken and thrived under Yuri’s wing. And for the life of her, she wasn’t sure it was a part she could dispose of, or if she even wanted to.

Still fighting to catch her breath, Ileana turned off the thoughts warring inside her and simply allowed herself to lean into Yuri’s embrace. If he was shocked by the move, he didn’t show it. Instead, the hand resting on her upper arm flexed as if in approval and pulled her tighter. Ileana followed his lead and rested her head on his shoulder. She focused on the calm tempo of his breathing and trying to match it.

The earth beneath them began to shake violently. The walls trembled, sprinkling years’ worth of dust from every crack and corner. Pans vibrated and bounced off the counters, banging on the floor. Ileana’s heart raced in time with the furious storm.

A horrible screech split through the sky, as the red wind screamed at the top of its lungs and swallowed the tiny shack. Ileana covered her ears with her hands and closed her eyes, unsure why this wind, of all things, frightened her. She could face vanators, dragon warriors, harpies—anything. But this screeching wind seemed to eat through her very soul like acid through flesh.

Large and warm, Yuri’s palm made slow circles on her lower back.

“Shh, Ileana, it’s all right,” his voice soothed in a calming litany. A soft glow sparked in her stomach. Like a seed of light, it grew, expanding into her arms and legs until it filled her completely. And always there, always urging the warmth and lightness was Yuri’s voice, telling her she was safe.

The storm, still rampant and wild in its rage, buffeted, sounding more like a freight train passing just outside the window. A sense of peace and calm washed over her, like a gentle wave cleansing the beach.

Realization dawned and she gazed up at Yuri. “You entered my mind, didn’t you?”

A slight curve twisted his lips. “I had to. I couldn’t let you be afraid.”

“Couldn’t let me?” she bristled.

Yuri sighed and reached out, smoothing a strand of hair away from her face. “I couldn’t bear to see you afraid. Is that better?”

Ileana opened her mouth to snap back some witty reply, but closed it instead. Using his shoulder as a prop, she leaned her head against him and took in their surroundings for the first time.

“What was this building?” she asked, feeling an eerie chill travel up her spine. This shelter had obviously been someone’s home at one time. Articles of clothing still hung on hooks by the door. Pans sat neatly arranged beside the stone hearth carved into the wall, and for the first time, Ileana noticed they sat on what may have once been regarded as a pristine rug, now covered in soot and dust.

“I don’t know,” Yuri replied. “But whoever left this place, left in a hurry.”

Yuri tilted his head toward the ceiling and scanned the walls. Ileana couldn’t help but admire the sight of him. The flickering red light from the window reflected off his eyes. They shone in the darkness, warm and almost colorful. Reminiscent of a raven’s multihued wing tinged with striking layers of blues and reds that are imperceptible unless examined up close.

He swallowed and her gaze lowered to his strong jawline, now blurred by the shadow of dark hair that had grown in the past hours. Still trimmed, the smooth goatee perfectly framed his lips. She’d never noticed their shape before, the lower much fuller than the top, the smooth texture. Hers suddenly tingled, growing full, almost heavy. Ileana licked them, tucking the bottom one between her teeth, thinking the languid sensitivity delicious.

She sucked in a shaky breath, willing him to look at her. The arm around her shoulders tightened. The warm body next to her stiffened, before he looked down at her. The expression on his face seemed both concerned and hungry and was enough to send Ileana reeling to catch her breath all over again.

By the Goddess, she wanted to look away, wanted to apologize, wanted to sink into a hole and disappear. But the overriding desire to feel his lips on hers kept her eyes from turning away. Instead, she reached up to him, framed his stubble-roughened cheeks beneath her palms, and pulled him closer.

“Ileana,” he said, his breath warming her lips.

Since her parents’ death, she’d hated hearing her name. Yet when Yuri said it, something cold and hard inside her dissolved. She loved to hear her given name on his lips. Loved how his L rolled off his tongue in a sensual purr. It made her feel feline. Made her want to rub her body against his like a cat against a scratching post.

“Ileana.”

Goddess, he said it again. She mewled. Her needing whimper had Yuri claiming her face in his hand. His thumb brushed across her lips in a caress both rough and tender and her gaze dropped to his, willing his mouth to hers.

He smiled and tenderly bent his head to her. When his lips touched hers, pinwheels of fire licked her belly and every weary muscle in her body sprang to life. Instinctively, she knew what she wanted. What she craved.

“Use your powers on me, Yuri,” she said when he pulled away.

He froze, the muscles beneath her hands tensing. “Why?”

“I want you to tell me what I’m thinking,” she said with a coy smile. “What I want.”

Yuri paused, his eyes boring into hers so reverently, so deeply she could feel his stare like fingers on her skin. “I…” He shook his head. “I’m going to build a fire,” he muttered.

And in the time it took her to blink, he’d pushed to his feet and walked away.

Yuri tossed the wood into the hearth with more force than necessary. He had to do something to get his mind off Ileana. Goddess, didn’t she know he didn’t need to read her mind to see she wanted him. He only had to look into those heated eyes, taste her sweet lips.

Although fleeting, the quick look over his shoulder was enough to send another aching tug of desire through his body. A becoming flush highlighted the normally pale skin of Ileana’s beautiful face. Her lips, still full and moist from his kiss, were soft and parted, revealing two tiny perfect fangs. Fangs he could already feel stabbing into his neck with sweet perfection.

He shifted his legs, trying to adjust the growing evidence of his desire for her. Angry with himself for reacting to her like no more than a green lad, he stabbed at the fire, relishing the pops and hissing he garnered in reply.

“Yuri.”

Her voice was soft, breathy and his cock twitched in response.

“Yes.”

“Turn around.”

Unable to deny her with words, he shook his head instead. Busying himself with stoking the fire, he ignored the one building with the force of scorching hot bricks in his gut. A rustle of fabric sounded from behind him. The soft padding of her delicate footsteps echoed in the small room. He held his breath, waiting for her touch, sensing it coming.

Small and elegant, her fingers curled around his shoulders.

“Yuri, please,” she said, tugging gently on his arms. “Look at me.”

He bit down on his jaw, on the truth. “I can’t,” he ground out.

“Why? Is it your powers?” she asked sweetly. “Does it hurt to use them?”

Yuri thought of the night he held his sister in his arms. The night he told her promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. Watched her murderer take her life and get away.

“Sometimes,” he grated.

It did hurt, though not the way she assumed. It hurt to know things, to be able to control people and bend them to his will. To always wonder if people did things because you made them or because they wanted to.

“Yuri, please look at me.”

Yuri gripped the shoddy mantel, feeling the wood splinter beneath his grip. “Don’t ask me. Not now.”

“Why not?”

“I cannot be what you need.” What you deserve.

“How do you know what I need?”

Yuri whirled around, seizing her upper arms. Ready to tell her he knew everything about her from his brief glimpses into her mind. That he wanted more for her than he could ever give her. That she deserved to be treated like the noble princess she once was, not someone to be taken quick and greedy on a filthy cabin floor.

Then his eyes locked on hers. In them he saw every emotion he felt, but could not describe. Every unspoken want, desire, tangible need and unbearable loneliness permeating through his being for this woman, echoed in her beautiful eyes. It rattled him to the core and rendered him speechless.

The storm outside faded from existence. The walls stopped shaking and the entire world went quiet save for the sound of his heart thudding wildly in his ears. Yuri realized he hadn’t taken a breath since he turned around, knew he needed to inhale and soon. However, it took a moment for his brain to register any need other than her. Once he taken the first breath and then the next, he realized the skin beneath his palms was bare. She was bare.

He paused only long enough to take in her perfection before he swooped down, covering her mouth with his own. Blinding heat sparked his mouth at the touch of her lips. She moaned, her body softening beneath his like wax melting beneath flame.

“Ileana,” he said in almost a growl, as he dove down and took her mouth again.

Her velvety lips were moist and responsive, and he explored every inch of them. When his hand cupped her breast, a breathy purr rolled off her tongue. Yuri smoothed his cheek down her rib cage, kissing her soft belly as he went. His hands nearly spanned her waist and it hit him then. She was fragile, delicate, soft. No matter how hard and tough she pretended to be.

He wanted to ravish and worship her at the same time. Seduce her until she gave herself to him, mind, body and soul. Lay the world at her feet if he could. After hastily tugging off his clothes, Yuri placed them on the ground, laying her atop them.

Bending, Yuri placed a kiss on her welcoming mouth. Tasting and sucking her slick, full lips until his head spun and desire pooled in his groin. Everything in him screamed to plunge inside her welcoming body and make them both forget.

Ileana pivoted her hips, rolling her pelvis against his. A shock wave of pleasure jolted through him. The undeniable invitation to have her, to claim her, to own her if only for tonight sent his mind reeling. He reacted without processing, his hand skating down her side. So smooth, so soft. His gaze followed the trail of his fingers on her skin.

Reverent, he outlined the tattoo along her rib cage, smiling at her swift intake of breath. Again her body undulated in an erotic wave beneath him and his smile tightened. Yuri’s cock pulsed. Long and impossibly smooth, her legs wedged wider. One knee dropped open, the other slithered up his thigh in a languid, silken glide. Yuri’s breath hitched. Open. She lay bare and open. For him.

Mine.

This time he didn’t hesitate. His hand slid between her legs, fingers parting her softest flesh. An approving groan slipped through his lips to find her wet, hot for him. His fingertip flicked her swollen clit. She cried out, leaning into his hand. Yuri repeated the move, again and again, his hand stroking her sex in a demanding spear that sent her eyes fluttering shut. Her mouth opened in a mute O as his fingers glided over the slick warmth of her, easily slipping inside and penetrating her.

The heat of her ignited and consumed him. So perfect, so tight, her sex hugged his finger, greedily taking it deeper. Jealous, his cock throbbed painfully as he continued to strum her like an instrument. Relishing every note, every tone of pleasure he could ring from her.

The delicious torment of both having and wanting this woman made his arms start to tremble, his vision go blurry. Again his groin tightened to the point of pain. Yuri wanted to take her, claim her, feel her and taste her. The sheer level of intensity with which he wanted to be inside her, frightened him.

“Please, Yuri,” she breathed.

He looked down at the beauty beneath him. She reached for him, her fingers biting into his shoulders, pulling him atop her. When he gave in, allowing his body weight to sink against hers, she swallowed forcefully, a low whimper escaping her. The sound of her need proved more than he could stand.

Yuri entered her in one smooth thrust. Warm and incredibly tight, her body took him in. The feel of her turned every bone in his body to liquid heat. Closing his eyes, he allowed the bliss to consume him, allowed every pore, every nerve to sing out its pleasure from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. He eased out of her and slowly pressed back in, deeper this time. Again, he rocked inside her, each slide more luscious than the first. Friction, warmth, moisture, each sensation spurred him on.

Small hands palmed the expanse of his shoulders, her fingers gripping his flesh, searching the canyon column of his spine. Her legs wrapped around his hips, as her hot tongue traced a fire trail up his neck. Both acts urged him harder and faster. Two things Yuri had no intention of doing. He never wanted this night to end.

When he tried to slow the tempo, Ileana pushed on his shoulders, hard. Yuri rolled with the movement, pleasantly surprised when they stopped moving and she sat on top of him. Inch by unbelievable inch, Ileana sank atop him before resuming the pace he’d fought to decelerate. Desperate, his hands gripped her hips, working her up and down as his own body rose up to meet every one of her thrusts.

Soft and firm, her thighs clenched his sides. Her fingers spanned out on his chest. Waves of untamed hair cascaded down her waist, almost concealing the amazing sight of his cock disappearing inside of her over and over. The urge to release built faster and stronger with each delicious sway of her body. Fighting it, Yuri reached out, cupping her breast in his palm. Ileana closed her eyes, releasing a gasp as he began to knead and caress. Yuri couldn’t remember anything more exquisite, more beautiful than Ileana perched above him. Yet right now, she felt entirely too far away.

Tightening his abs, he curled up to sit. First, his mouth closed over the tight nipple his hand had been neglecting. She cried out, her back arching into him as his tongue laved, his mouth sucked and his teeth lightly grazed the throbbing bud. He lifted away from her only long enough to grasp her face and crush his mouth against hers in a panting, teeth-clashing, hungry embrace. Half-mad with desire, Ileana rocked above him in a rapid tempo, and he loved every second.

Yuri knew they were both close. So close. Lying back down, he pulled her with him. His hands in her hair, smoothing it back from her face so he could see her. He wanted to watch her come. Watch the pleasure take hold of her.

Mouths open, frantically brushing with each panting thrust, Yuri felt a smile on his lips, felt another in his heart. Ileana smiled back, moving faster, harder against him. The tips of her breasts slid against his chest in a silken glide with each grind and snap of her hips. Warm and tight, her flesh hugged his cock. First in one strong fist and then butterfly pulses tightened around him, milking him.

Yuri moaned in her mouth. Her eyes slid closed, her back tensed beneath his hands. She tried to pull away, his name tearing from her lips in a desperate, heady sob. But he kept holding her, kept rising up hard to meet her next drive down and her next. Kissing her jaw, her cheek, Yuri made his way to her ear. He laved the sweet area behind it, sucking the shell into his mouth before telling her he had her, he was here and asking her to let go.

Now.

Chapter Six

A moment after his command, Yuri felt a powerful shudder quake through her slight body. A passionate gasp screamed from her lips and she came hard and forcefully. The sight, the feel and the sound of her climax cued Yuri to unleash his tightly reined desire. He let go, quenching the fire she’d spread like wildfire inside him. Hot and thick, his seed jetted inside her womb.

Groaning his release, he fisted the hair at her nape, hauling her neck down to him. Lost in a haze of desire and need, his fangs lengthened, stretching toward her.

Claim. Mine.

Yuri opened his mouth, piercing her sweet skin. Her flesh hugged his fangs with the same perfection as she sheathed his body. Their bodies joined, their connection, their oneness was stark and unshakable. He drew in her essence in long, sensual pulls. Each swallow of her sweet blood pulsed through his body, riding his pleasure out even further than he thought possible.

It took all the will he owned to pull away from her. With a soft kiss, he pulled back and turned his neck, offering himself to her. A shudder of anticipation skated up his spine, a cord of excitement knotted and tightened in his core. Featherlight, the tips of her hair danced on his chest before covering him in its silken blanket. Her breath warmed his neck, her tongue flicked out, sampling his skin. Even the simple touch had Yuri arching off the floor, his grip on her tensing. He felt her smile a heartbeat before he savored the sweetest pain and deepest pleasure he’d ever experienced in his long life. Ileana’s sharp bite, and the heady rush of giving everything of himself and having it not only accepted, but unconditionally reciprocated.

After Yuri left to check the perimeter, Ileana found some clothes in one of the trunks. Although obviously meant for a young boy, she felt more at home and more herself in the leather jacket, tailored pants and holster than she had in those Samostan robes. Like armor, they shielded her from Yuri’s heated gaze and her own sensuality that came out when he stared at her.

A minute later, Yuri stepped through the door. He held his jacket like a child in his arms, obviously carrying something although from this vantage point she couldn’t see what. After securing the door lock, he kicked his boots on a small rug, knocking off the red dust that had accumulated on the soles. The domestic sight warmed her heart and put a smile on her lips.

For one brief moment she could envision a life with him, picture him coming home to her. Her smile fled almost as quickly as it came. Anger and resentment followed close at its heels. Would that image bring joy to her lonely heart in years to come or would it haunt her?

“What are you wearing?”

Ileana blinked, his query pulling her out of her thoughts. She glanced up at him, feeling a smile and the warmth of a blush on her face.

“I found them in that trunk, there.” Standing, she brushed the dust off her pant legs and walked over to Yuri. He held an apple in his proffered hand and she hungrily accepted it. Although she tried, it was impossible to ignore his admiring gaze as it skimmed over her body.

“I think I miss the robes,” he said, biting into the apple. His fangs pierced the fleshy skin in a way that made her sex clench and her blood thrum wildly in her veins. Last night she’d been that apple, captured between his teeth, a prisoner to his passion. An image of him taking her, her skin as white as the apple’s flesh, their blood mixing into a fiery melding of reds like the fruits skin, flashed in her mind.

Her body thrummed, a wave of heat crashing atop her, the erotic current threatening to once again drag her into his undertow. How could she ever let him go today? Never look upon his face again? Never taste the intoxicating, hot sweet assault of his lips on hers?

A sandbag of emotions collapsed atop her heart, weighing her down. As if reading her thoughts, Yuri stepped forward. Strands of dark hair cascaded over his eyes. Eyes that held hers, watched her as if they could see straight through the flesh and bone to her soul. She shivered. Then they dropped to her neck, her collarbone, his finger following the path his gaze made.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his fingertip running along what she knew to be an outline of one of her tattoos.

Ileana shifted from his reach. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“It’s ugly.”

Fingers hooked beneath her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “You’re not ugly, Ileana. You’re the most beautiful, perfect creature I’ve ever seen.”

She tried to look away and he forced her chin back to him.

“Every marked inch of you.”

At the solemn vow in his eyes, Ileana’s heart stuck in her throat. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Not from his words. But from the fact that, for the first time in her life, she believed something good about herself.

“Yuri, I…”

A riot of gunshots ripped through the cabin, piercing the windows and shattering glass all around them. Yuri pushed her to the floor, the weight of his body above her, shielding her from harm.

A low curse flew from his lips. “I must have been followed back here,” he panted.

Ileana paused for only a moment before scooting from underneath him, and crawled toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“We have to evade the vanators and get you through the veil,” she said over the roaring blasts.

“You’re leaving out the part about me needing your blood.”

“Small detail.”

He pulled on her arm, stopping her hasty move for the door. “Ileana, I won’t do this.”

Exhaling, Ileana wrapped her arms around his neck, sealing her lips against his. Yuri released a low moan and kissed her back. One hand dug into her hair, cupping her skull and keeping her a prisoner in his powerful arms. The other snaked around her waist, pinning her against his solid build. Hot and urgent, she kissed him with all the passion she felt for him. A kiss could speak if you listened. Part of her feared him paying heed to what her lips told him now. The other part needed him to know how she felt, for she was certain those three little words would never fall from them. Not in time anyway.

“Now,” she said when they broke away. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Before he could protest any further, Ileana opened the door. Bending at the waist, she shielded her head with her arm and ran for the tree line, holding onto Yuri’s hand with her other. As they had fled last night from the red wind, today they hurled away from a different threat, but one just as deadly.

Last night, Yuri served as the motor who kept them running, got them to safety. Ileana led them today. She ran until her thighs burned, sprinted even when there was no longer any sign of their pursuers behind them. Kept her grip tight on Yuri’s and did not slow until they came to the stone garden. The one place she knew of with a sacred tablet, the porthole for creating a tear in the veil.

Now all he needed was her blood and he’d be safe.

“Ileana, stop!”

Yuri had been shouting for minutes, but she didn’t listen until now. Releasing her grip on his hand, she pointed to the stone.

“There,” she panted, her hands collapsing atop her knees as she fought for breath.

Yuri stared at the tablet and then back at her. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he shouted. “Not after last night.”

“You must. They’ll kill you.” Ileana winced. Without looking into his eyes, she could feel him opening her up, sense his medji powers pushing on her mind, attempting to manipulate her thoughts.

“Stop it, Yuri,” she pleaded, squeezing her eyes shut as if the move could force him out too.

When the pressure in her head didn’t cease, the probing ache in her mind wouldn’t stop, helpless resignation swelled inside her. Ileana stopped fighting and sank to her knees on the grass.

“Please,” she said on a sob. “I can’t lose you too.”

Yuri flinched. Her words snapped the connection he had on her mind at once, as if a light switch had been flung off. His heart hurt for her, for her pain and loss. To think he might contribute more suffering in her life made him physically ill. Forgetting everything, he rushed to her side.

“Forgive me…” he began. His words cut off when Ileana snatched the dagger from his thigh holster, slicing her palm open and smearing the holy stone with her blood before he even knew what happened.

“No,” he breathed.

A deafening crack of thunder split the night. Winds kicked from the north, swirling her hair around her into a whirlwind of pulsing energy.

“What have you done,” Yuri shouted over the roaring winds.

She blinked up at him. “What you needed me to do.”

Lightning pulsed in blinding flashes, so bright Ileana had to shield her eyes with her hand. The sky split behind the stone, creating a whirlpool of blue, gray, purple and white mist that swirled in the heavens.

“A tear in the veil,” she whispered. “You must jump, Yuri. Now!”

Instead, he stepped away from the ebbing whirl of light behind him and toward her. “I’m not going without you. That.” He pointed to the vortex. “This. Leaving. It’s a reaction, not a solution.”

“But the vanators,” she said, her voice pleading. “They’ll kill you if you stay.”

“And you if I go,” he replied solemnly.

Ileana shook her head. “What other choice is there?”

Yuri didn’t hesitate. “Come with me.”

“What?” she breathed. Her heart leapt out of her chest before plummeting back down on the jagged stones of reality. “I—” She swallowed. “I’ve never left the Mysts before.”

Yuri smiled, his lips curving in that devastating grin that melted her heart and ignited a spark of arousal deep in her core. “I’ll take care of you,” he said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet.

Goddess help her, but she believed him. “They won’t stop hunting us.”

“We will fight them,” he vowed, tucking her arm to his chest.

Violent wind lapped at their bodies, but a sense of peace settled her usually turbulent emotions. The air currents licked his hair, kicking it in a boyish tousle that had her heart beaming. Voices shouted in the distance, more gunshots echoing in the wild sky. Whoever tracked them was close. Too close. Yuri pulled back and squeezed her hand.

“Are you ready?”

Ileana paused. Was she ready to trust? Ready to love? Ready to let someone in? “More than I have ever been for anything.”

Yuri exhaled, as if in relief. They turned to face the vortex, both the swirling unknown and their sanctuary.

“We jump on three.”

Ileana nodded, her stomach floating wildly like a kite in a storm at the prospect of what lay before them. But she wasn’t nervous or afraid. She knew Yuri held the other line and he wasn’t letting go.

“One,” he said.

“Two,” she replied.

“Three.”

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Interested in writing for Nocturne Bites? Send your submission to NocturneBites@Harlequin.ca

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8015-5

Vampire In Her Mysts

Copyright © 2011 by Meagan Hatfield

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