[Kassandra Lyall Preternatural Investigator 03] - Bloody Claws Page 11

"Honestly, Lenorre, I'm trying to figure you out. Are you jealous? Is it the blood thing again? What's going on in that head of yours?"

  "I can tell you what's going on in her head," Eris said.

  "You think so, do you?" Lenorre asked, utterly calm.

  "I know so and I know you, Lenorre."

  "By all means, tell Kassandra what is going on in my head."

  She looked at me. "By not sharing with her, you're hurting her and your relationship with her. Do you understand, Kassandra?"

  "Okay, seriously, why is this such a big deal?"

  "Well, for one, you're in a relationship with a vampire. What would make you think the sharing of blood wouldn't be a big deal? And for two," Eris said with a slight smile, "you're not with just any vampire. You're the lover of a Countess vampire, Kassandra. Not sharing blood with her makes her look weak."

  "Is that true?"

  "Partly," Lenorre said. "I care less about appearing weak. You know it frustrates me what you are trying to do by not sharing blood with me. You told me that you would try, Kassandra. That is all I am asking you to do."

  "Kass." Rosalin's voice made me turn my attention to her.

  "Zaphara said she'll bunk with me tonight."

  I looked at them both. "Are you sure?"

  "Carver and Claire will be here soon," Zaphara said. "I will keep her company till they arrive."

  "I told you," Rosalin said, "I don't want to intrude. Lenorre needs you, and Eris has a point."

  "I do?" she asked, sounding surprised that Rosalin agreed with her.

  "Yes."

  "That would be?" I asked.

  "You've obviously got ground to explore with each other. I don't think I can cuddle up with you and Lenorre tonight and not have my mind go there if she goes there. I'll take advantage of the distraction."

  For a moment, Lenorre appeared just as confused as I felt.

  "Are you saying it would hurt your feelings to see Kassandra and me together?" Lenorre asked.

  "No, I don't think so. I don't think I can watch the whole biting thing without, you know. With our connection and my mood, I don't think I could keep my mind from going there."

  Lenorre laughed, pure and genuine.

  Rosalin offered a faint smile.

  I didn't quite see the humor of the situation, so I stood there, frowning.

  "Please tell me you're pouting because I won't be there to cuddle," Rosalin said and I shot her a look.

  "I'm not pouting."

  "Brooding, then."

  "I'm not brooding either. I'm tired and I don't see what's funny."

  "That's because you're tired," Rosalin said. She came to me, giving me a hug that I returned half-heartedly. "Normally, you'd be like, 'Gee, that's such a Rosalin statement,' but right now you're just too tired to roll your eyes at me."

  "I'm confused. Ten minutes ago you were standing there staring at your feet, now you're okay?"

  "I just want to curl up with someone and go to sleep." The fact that she hadn't answered yes or no let me know she was avoiding answering my question completely.

  "All right," I said, feeling perplexed and irritated. "Do what you will."

  Rosalin nodded as the room was enveloped by an awkward silence. I knew, despite her joking, that she wasn't fine. But if she was too busy worrying about intruding or getting worked up sexually, there wasn't a thing I could to do about it. Though I couldn't help but feel a small tendril of relief that Lenorre and I would have some privacy. I wasn't exactly looking forward to the prospect of opening a vein.

  Lenorre said, "Kassandra, let's go to bed."

  I caught her hand. "I'll try."

  She paused, brushing my cheek with the back of her fingers just outside the doors to her room. "I know."

  CHAPTER Fifteen

  sat in the armchair in Lenorre's large bedroom and stripped off the boots I'd been wearing. I felt grimy after the damp sweat of shifting and frantic search through the woods to find Rosalin. I'd worked as much of the dirt as I could out from under my nails with the help of a napkin and antibacterial gel I kept in the glove compartment box. Still, I didn't feel clean.

  Lenorre went to her closet and took our robes down off the hooks on the other side of the door.

  "Would you prefer a bath or a shower?" she asked.

  "Are you going to join me?"

  "Do you want me to join you?"

  "You grabbed your robe," I said with a slight smile.

  One of her shoulders raised in a half-shrug. "I do not have to join you if you do not want me to." She reopened the closet door and I went to her. I placed a hand on her arm before she could hang the robe back on its hook.

  "I'd like it if you joined me, Lenorre."

  Her misty eyes caught the light, sparkling faintly. "So I thought. Shall I run a bath?"

  I shook my head, lightly. "I probably still have twigs and stickers stuck in places they shouldn't be. A bath will not be conducive to getting clean when I'm this dirty."

  Lenorre kissed my cheek. "I will start the shower when you are ready."

  I nodded, retrieving my overnight bag from the couch and pulling out an oversized white shirt and a pair of black undies.

  I heard the light click on in the bathroom and stepped onto the cool tiled floor.

  Lenorre's bathroom was spacious. She sat on the edge of the tub with a brush in her lap.

  "Take your shirt off and sit," she said, motioning with the brush to the tri-colored black, gray, and white marble step below her.

  I unbuttoned the jacket and shoulder rig, hung the rig on the door handle, and draped the jacket over the cabinet. I had my back to Lenorre when I began unbuttoning the white blouse.

  "Kassandra, I want to watch you."

  I glanced over my shoulder and met the expectant look in her gaze. I turned and reclined against the cabinet as I freed the tiny pearlescent buttons. Lenorre watched intently, her metallic eyes darkening only slightly in the bright lighting of the bathroom. I pulled the shirt off and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The white lace bra was almost as white as my skin, and the line of the slacks was a dark contrast. I went to Lenorre and perched on the step in front of her without argument or question. Try as we had, there were still stickers buried in the deep layers of my hair that only a skilled hand and brush would remove.

  Lenorre's chilled fingers brushed the line of my shoulder as she swept my hair aside. She unhooked my bra and guided it down my arms before tossing it. The air nipped my skin, making my body tighten.

  "You do not need that, my love."

  "Sneaky," I said and was rewarded with a light laugh.

  She set about searching through my hair for any errant stickers we'd missed earlier, working through the bottom layer that fell down my back and nearly to my waist. My hair still wasn't as long as Lenorre's, but in the few months that we'd been together it'd grown a few inches.

  "Your hair is getting longer," she said as if she'd been reading my thoughts. Chances were, we'd both just been thinking the same thing.

  "I know," I said. "It's always grown insanely fast."

  "Even before you were infected with lycanthropy?" she asked.

  She found something at the base of my skull, fingers working gently to free it.

  Whatever it was snagged in my hair and I took a quick breath that hissed through my teeth as Lenorre inadvertently pulled my hair while dragging the sticker out of it.

  "My apologies," she said.

  I raised my left arm, showing her the gooseflesh that had broken out across my skin. "That wasn't a pain response."

  "Ah," she murmured, "your neck." She buried her fingers in my hair, drawing her nails lightly and intentionally from my hairline to the base of my neck in a way that made me shiver with visible pleasure.

  "Don't do that." I breathed the words and was rewarded with a devious purring little chuckle that made me shudder all over again.

  "Lenorre," I said in my best warning voice, "seriously."

  "As you wish,
" she said, sounding thoroughly amused with me. "You never answered my question."

  My thoughts raced frantically as she continued to search through my hair, working the brush through the handful of it that she held.

  "About my hair and the lycanthropy?"

  "Yes."

  "Yeah, it's always grown quickly," I said, shuddering again as the bristles of the brush scraped my neck. When my insides stopped writhing, I turned my head to give her an accusatory look. "You did that on purpose."

  She smiled wide enough to reveal the tips of her small fangs. "Mayhap." Her breath was suddenly hot against my ear. "But you seem to enjoy it."

  The tip of tongue traced my earlobe and I groaned in response, aching.

  "You know, the faster you comb through my hair, the faster we can ditch our clothes."

  "Anticipation is the high point of desire."

  "As glad as I am to be with a woman who holds foreplay in such high esteem, be careful of hitting the peak or I'll be tempted to take you on the floor."

  I heard her put the brush down. A second later, her cool hands brushed my shoulders and traveled down the length of my arms.

  "Is that what you want?"

  I had a sudden image of Lenorre's pale body laid out on one of her large black towels, of my mouth between her legs as her body stretched and writhed.

  The thought alone was enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

  Lenorre laughed. "Well, that does indeed answer my question."

  "Finish getting those damn stickers out of my hair," I spoke with gritted teeth. "Please."

  She touched my hip and my muscles jumped like those of a skittish colt. She bent over me, dipping her fingers beneath the band of my slacks. Given the way I was sitting, the slacks had enough give that her fingers parted me, slipping through the wetness between my legs. This time, Lenorre groaned. I fell back against her, my body going limp as her fingers explored me.

  Without thinking, I threw my head back and met something solid. Pain, fiery and sharp burst out across the side of my skull.

  Lenorre hissed like a cat that had been thrown into water.

  I reacted without thinking, with Lenorre's hand still in my pants. I tried to turn, albeit a little too quickly. Lenorre followed my movement, no longer touching me between the legs but turning her arm in such a way that it wasn't trapped painfully beneath the waistband.

  A speck of blood decorated her bottom lip.

  "Did I hurt you?" I asked.

  She touched her tongue to her left canine, examining it. "I will let you know once the feeling returns," she said, but sounded more amused than angry.

  I helped her work her hand out of my pants by unhooking them. I touched her bottom lip with my thumb. "Let me see."

  She parted her lips and I touched the fang she'd been checking. I stupidly didn't think about pressure as I touched the tip of it and ended up hissing at the fiery prick.

  I drew my hand away. "I hadn't expected them to be that sharp." And I honestly hadn't. Lenorre had teased me before with her fangs without breaking my skin. Had I truly pressed down that hard?

  She caught my wrist, fingers like shackles around my skin. She stared at the drop of blood on my thumb very intently.

  "Lenorre?" I asked, trying to pull away. Her hold tightened considerably.

  She shook her head, almost violently, as if shooing away an unwanted flying pest.

  "I am fine," she said.

  "No, you're not," I said, watching as her cloudy eyes flicked back to my thumb with its trembling drop of blood. She still hadn't released me. "You need to feed."

  "Are you offering?" Her dark brows arched exquisitely against her porcelain skin. Something flashed through her eyes. Impatience? Anger? I wasn't sure.

  "I told you I would try," I said. "But if I'm going to try I'd rather you feed when you still have some control left. I've seen you without control, Lenorre. Charming isn't exactly the word I'd use to describe it." I remembered Rosalin's torn wrist, the arterial spray of her blood, Lenorre, driven by a wild hunger and not caring how she got it, only that she got it. Rosalin had damn near passed out. For a werewolf, that was pretty impressive.

  Lenorre fell into the stillness that I'd only seen vampires capable of. I couldn't hear her heart beating, which meant it probably wasn't. In fact, she wasn't even breathing. Her fingers curled around my wrist trembled slightly.

  "Your skin is cooler to the touch than it usually is, Lenorre."

  She looked at me as if I'd just appeared.

  "I'm fine, Kassandra."

  "Liar," I said.

  Her eyes darkened like a storm, narrowing slightly. Her grip tightened even more.

  "Either let me go or take it," I said harshly.

  She used the grip she had to jerk me up to her. I had to catch her shoulder with a hand to keep from spilling into her lap. Her eyes when she spoke were misty with power. Her voice dripped with it like a damp fog clinging to my skin. "Do you have any idea what I want to do to you, my little wolf?"

  My pulse beat as if it were trying to jump out of my skin.

  Lenorre watched me, gauging my reaction with that primordial hunger and power intermingling in her eyes.

  "I can take a few guesses," I said, swallowing.

  Lenorre tossed my hand away from her, sending the drop of blood spilling over the edge of my skin. I turned, finding her standing in the corner of the room, as far away from me as she could possibly get. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts.

  "Kassandra, get out."

  She wasn't looking at me.

  I stepped down the last few steps that led to the bath.

  "No."

  She jerked her head up then, searching my face. I'd seen her eyes lit with nothing but hunger. This wasn't it. Somewhere in there, Lenorre was still there, trying to place a steely resolve over her instincts and hunger. I saw myself in her in that moment, my struggle with my beast, and her struggle with her blood lust. I empathized with her.

  "Kassandra, I do not want your pity. I asked you to leave."

  "Tough," I said, crossing my own arms under my breasts. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "I will not ask you again, Kassandra. I am trying to be courteous."

  I swept my hair aside, exposing my neck. I stepped out of the slacks as they slid, unhooked, down my hips. I stopped when I stood in front of her.

  Lenorre licked her lips, inspiring my stomach to sink.

  "What are you doing?"

  "What I promised I would. I'm trying to be your girlfriend." I touched her hands, tucking my fingers around them and easing her gently toward me, as if she were a startled animal that might shy away. I knew she wouldn't. It wasn't shying away that either of us was worried about.

  It was the fear of losing control.

  "I'm a lycanthrope, Lenorre," I said, sounding a hell of a lot braver and more certain than I felt.

  Again, she refused to meet my eyes. "You are still frightened, Kassandra. I can smell your fear. I can taste it." A tremble went through her, echoing in the hands touching mine.

  "I trust you," I said. "This is what we've been working toward. This is what you want…what you need."

  "What do you want?" she asked, whispering.

  "I want you to take your clothes off so I'm not the only one standing here naked." I stepped into her, our hands locked between our bodies. "You've seen my monster. Now show me yours."

  Her gaze was intense, her eyes still vibrant with power. "Be careful what you ask for, Kassandra."

  I tugged on her hands, guiding them down to her sides. I pushed my hands beneath the silken material of her blouse, stroking the coolness of her flat stomach. My skin burned hot against her, like fire and ice. Her power flitted across my skin, making me shudder, calling to the energy nestled within the heart of me. I sensed the wolf, her ears flattening against her white skull. She turned her face into the breeze of that power, closed her eyes as that icy wind sifted like fingers through her fur. She was an arctic wolf and at h
ome in the wild cold. The energy of my beast burned with enough heat of her own to keep her safe from it.

  We looked at the vampire in front of us, at the woman and lover in front of us, and offered the sheltering warmth of our power.

  My arms were buried elbow deep beneath Lenorre's burgundy blouse.

  "Do you feel that?" I asked in a breathy voice. A deep calm settled over me. The more I touched her, the warmer my skin grew.

  "You feel like a hot summer night to chase away the cold," Lenorre said.

  I stood on the tips of my toes. "And you feel like a blanket of snow that I want to roll and wrap myself in." I inched my arms higher, and the buttons strained to hold. So easily, I could tear them.

  "Kiss me, Lenorre."

  Lenorre locked her arms behind my back, bringing me up against her, trapping my arms between our bodies, beneath her blouse. I stayed raised on the tips of my toes as her mouth sought mine.

  The coolness of her breath melted against my lips, as if I'd taken a handful of snow and brought it up to my mouth. I kissed her delicately, gently, teasing her lips open with the tip of my tongue. She opened to me, and I felt my warmth tumbling into her. She drank from my mouth as I drank from hers. The kiss became reckless and ardent, her hand moved to my hair, crushing a handful of it in her fist. If there were any stickers, neither one of us paid any attention to them. Her other arm snaked around my waist as she lifted me. I locked my thighs around her hips, our bodies molding together, our powers feeding each other. Her power felt so good, so incredibly good, and the wolf and I sought that, sinking into her, allowing her coolness to keep us from burning too hot. Distantly, I wondered if Lenorre felt what I was feeling, if the promise of my power, of my warmth, called to her as strongly as the coldness of hers called to me.

  Temperance, I thought, two elements coming together in perfect union, balancing each other.

  Somewhere in the middle, we met, feeding at each other, trying and struggling to become something more moderate.

  I broke the kiss with a gasp, my mind reeling, my body hurting with the fierceness of desire.

  I burned with a heat that only Lenorre could cool.

  I kissed her cheek, sliding my mouth down the slope of her jaw and to her neck. "Take me to the bedroom," I whispered between kisses. "Take me and ride this."