Jakob stood there, as if mesmerized.
The younger man grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to turn away, and then he hauled him across the room and out the door. Another man followed closely on their heels, nearly as tall and as broad.
The door closed behind them.
Shaking and heart pounding within her chest, Kaira cut her gaze to the right and left. The reception carried on around her, no one seeming to have paid any attention to her strange exchange with the man, or to his hasty departure.
What the heck had just happened? And why did she feel to her very marrow shed just escaped a brush with death?
Chapter 3
Henriks back slammed against a brick wall, the darkness of the narrow alley sheltering their trio from the tourists thronging Tromsøs streets.
Lars stood at the entrance, making sure no one developed an unhealthy curiosity.
Jakob got right up in Henriks face, forearm pressing into the kings chest. What happened?
He shook his head, swallowing thickly, his hunger burning so intensely it was almost a living thing within him. Wanted her, he rasped. It hadnt been a decision. There wasnt anything rational or conscious about it. From the first moment shed approached him, he was awash in her appealing scent, like the smoky berries of a vintage wine or the rich bite of an aged, dignified whiskey.
Wanted her how?
I wanted her. He knocked his head against the brick. Even now, he couldnt shake the image of the veins rhythmic dance along her slender neck or of the luscious dip of her cleavage, both displayed so invitingly by her upswept hair. His fangs throbbed with a want and a need he couldnt remember feeling in ages. Not to mention the aching hard-on between his legs.
Wanted her how?
I wanted her. He knocked his head against the brick. Even now, he couldnt shake the image of the veins rhythmic dance along her slender neck or of the luscious dip of her cleavage, both displayed so invitingly by her upswept hair. His fangs throbbed with a want and a need he couldnt remember feeling in ages. Not to mention the aching hard-on between his legs.
Straight out no-shit bloodlust? Something like hope sounded in the warriors deep voice.
Ja. Henrik heaved a deep breath of cold January air as his imagination unhelpfully replayed how it wouldve gone down. Tearing the gown from her trim body. Holding her curves in his hands. Bearing her up against the wall. Sinking his fangs and his cock in deep until every dark, needy part of him was sated.
Ill get her. Jakob turned away.
The king slammed his hand down on his brothers shoulder and gripped hard. Nei.
You want her. You need her.
Ill kill her.
Because he wouldnt be able to stop.
Once he got a taste, something base and instinctual told him he wouldnt be able to make himself stop. Hed been so close to the edge of his restraint in the gallery. Only the sound of her voice had pulled him back from the brink.
All hed wanted was a night out of their mountain citadel, away from the looming promise of death. He thought the jovial atmosphere of the festival would distract him from all that was to come. Instead, it had thrown it right in his face. Christ, he was a catastrophe waiting to happen, already more beast than man. He shook his head again. Ill fucking kill her, he rasped.
You wont.
Acid washed through his gut. You willing to risk an innocent womans lifeor her soulto see which of us is right? Im not. He shuddered, the danger of becoming like his evil enemies one of his greatest fears. Leave her be. Ill not have it any other way.
Jakob lowered his chin and his shoulders lifted and lowered in a weary sigh. When he raised his gaze again, Henrik hated the grief and resignation he saw there, hated that he couldnt go through this without dragging everyone around him down, too. What do you want to do, then?
Get the hell out of here. And find some goddamned Soul Eaters to rip apart. He pressed his arm to his side, feeling the satisfying weight of the holstered gun there. What he couldnt take care of with his bare hands hed happily dispatch with the clip of bullets poisoned with the blood of the dead.
His brother gave a tight nod. Sounds like a plan.
Side by side, they stalked the length of the alley. Henrik clapped Lars on the shoulder. Up for a fight?
The warrior grinned and flashed his fangs. Always, my lord.
Then lets go find one. He led them out of the alley, but didnt miss for a moment the way Jakob placed himself in the way of turning right, back toward the direction of the gallery, and the too-appealing-for-her-own-good woman. So be it.
Henrik turned left, toward the waterfront and one of the main concert stages for the festival. The crowds would be heavier there, giving the Soul Eaters more opportunity and more cover to make a grab.
The three warriors pressed through the teeming streets, a path opening before them as the humans instincts made them shy away. Which was just fine by the king. He didnt want to tangle with mortals anyway.
Notice you also dont want to eat any of them?
His footing faltered as the observation struck home.
My lord?
He shook his head without meeting Larss questioning gaze. Concentrating on the humans they passed, Henrik sought to identify each persons unique scent and the rhythm of their heartbeat. And...nothing. Not a single one tempted his bloodlust. Or his cock.
Then why had the woman? Kaira, shed called herself.
Henrik cut the inquiry off at the knees. Curiosity was a dangerous animal where she was concerned. He couldnt allow himself the luxury of exploring the unusual desires shed raised in him. Going down that road led to two equally bad outcomesher, dead and soulless, and him, a giant leap closer to becoming that which he most hated.
So he wasnt going to ask the whys of it. No matter how much the mere memory of her scent wound him up inside.
They reached the plaza in front of one of the central festival venues. They made a sweep around the plaza and retreated to the shadows. Watching. Waiting.
Nothing.
Sonofabitch.
The night dragged on. The hour grew late. The crowds thinned.
The monster inside him grew restless. It stalked back and forth within his mind growling and rattling its chains until the noise grew unbearable. Rage filled his chest so fully it was hard to breathe.
Jakob tensed beside him.
A split second later, Henrik picked up on it, toothe fetid stench of evil. Soul Eaters walked among them.
He methodically surveyed the crowd.
There. Four of them entered the plaza where he and his warriors had earlier.
Henriks body was in motion before hed made the conscious decision to do so.
They were halfway across the square before their enemies became aware of them. The quartet paused, then turned on a dime and backtracked the way they came. Didnt mean they were giving up their quest for human victims, though. In their blind desperation for blood and souls, the Soul Eaters shared none of their vampire brethrens reluctance to reveal their existence to humanity. While a select few influential humans known as The Electorate knew of the existence of the immortals and allied with the vampire kings to defeat them, the mass of mortals did not. It was better that way for everyone, and protecting that secret was one of the constant battles he and his warriors fought.
Outside of the plaza, their enemies broke into a preternatural run. Henrik followed in pursuit. The four of them represented his path to freedom from the jaws of the beast within. At least for tonight. He wouldnt stop until they were dead. Or he was.
He paused at an intersection, anticipation thrumming through his veins. Jakob and Lars came up behind him. Henrik extended out his senses. For a long moment, he couldnt pick up a trace of them. Then he smelled it. Blood. Warm. Spilled. Spilling. A growl rumbled up from his chest.
Instinct led him toward the scent most fundamental to the survival of his kind. Halfway down the block, he spun into a dark alley, just wide enough to hide a long row of industrial garbage cans.
Just beyond them, two figures stood pressed against the wall.
Dum faen. Dumb fuck. Henrik muttered under his breath as he stalked toward the Soul Eater, so blood-drunk he apparently didnt hear the warriors approach. This ones mine.
The faint, infrequent thump of the victims heartbeat told him the damage was done, but the fact that the man retained any cardiac rhythm meant his soul remained intact. Henrik wrenched the Soul Eater away before he could consume that final reward. The human crumpled in a lifeless pile to the ground.
The king let the beast loose.
And, damn, it was far too easy to do.
Like an exorcism, his own demons raged and fought. He lost all awareness, all sense of time and space. All sense of self as he battled the Soul Eater.
Hands grabbed at him, yanked him back. Henrik focused on the new targets, gnashing his teeth and swing his fists. Voices finally penetrated the choking fog of violence suffocating his mind, his humanity.
Jakob and Lars.
Hes dead. Henrik, hes dead, Jakob said. Its done. The dawn will take care of the rest.
His gaze sought proof of the Soul Eaters demise and found it in the broken body on the pavement. Or what was left of it.
He stopped fighting their grip and let himself be dragged away.
His breathing was a freight train in the night, sawing in and out of burning lungs. His pulse throbbed in his now swollen, shredded knuckles. Warm liquid oozed over his face in too many places to count.
The king nodded, or tried. He wasnt yet sure of the connection between his sentient self and his physical actions.
It wasnt until the pain hit that he trusted himself again. Head hanging on his shoulders, he looked down at his torso. Coat destroyed. Shirts and skin beneath hanging in torn strips. Blood dripped from his face, but his hands were useless to wipe it away. More of the crimson covered the skin there, too, as if hed bathed in blood. His own and his enemys.
Christ, he hadnt felt a moment of the Soul Eaters effort to defend itself. Hed been totally unaware.
White-hot fear lanced through him, and a sob ripped up his throat.