Blood Fever (The Watchers #3)

Blood Fever (The Watchers #3) Page 22

He laughed. “Not hardly. I was a soldier.”

Now, that I could picture. He’d have had a sword or musket slung over a gritty, sweat-stained shirt. His eyes would be hard, his walk sure and powerful. I wished I could’ve seen it.

I felt a pang of loss, of all that I’d never know about Carden—his long-ago past, his unending future. I had to glance away, squinting hard at the moonlight dancing on the waves.

“My ancestors merely passed their gifts down our family line,” he continued, oblivious to my reverie.

I cleared my throat, focusing. “So before you were a vampire, you had this second sight? Like premonitions?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I was a more intuitive man than most. It was only when I turned Vampire that my gift became amplified.” His hand grew still on my thigh, his thoughts lost to another time.

I asked quietly, “Is that why you knew to come to me when I dreamed of you?”

He became present again, life snapping back into those eyes. “With our bond, my mind is open to yours. I felt…needed by you, yes.”

“So we really are sort of connected?”

He began to stroke again. “Mm. And hopefully other parts are engaged, too, aye?”

I swallowed hard. Stay on topic. “Do the other vampires know you can do this?”

He pulled his hand away. “There is no doing of anything. I merely have insights others lack, and that only sometimes.” With a tired exhale, he reclined, resting his head in his hands. “But aye, the vampires have their suspicions. I believe it’s why the Spaniard keeps me around.”

“So, Master Alcántara doesn’t like you, but he’s too worried he might need you, so has kept you around just in case.”

“He’s not your master,” Carden snapped, pinning his eyes on me.

“Hey, I don’t trust him, either.”

He softened his words, pulling a hand from behind his head to stroke my lower back. “These things I tell you…it’s important you not discuss it with others.”

I trusted Carden, and hearing his words made it clear how much he trusted me, too. “He suspects you of the murders, you know.”

His laugh was jaded. “Suspects me, or merely wishes to conveniently pin them on me?” His hand stroked up to my shoulder, and he eased onto his elbow to pull me down beside him. “Fret not, petal. He cannot touch me.”

I rolled onto my side to face him, the move natural, me drawn to him. My whole body throbbed, aware of him lying so close. I’d never been with a guy before. It was all so new, so overwhelming. How was I supposed to act? I rested my hand on his hard chest and longed to stroke up and down, to explore every inch of him, but was feeling oddly shy.

This close to him, my thirst nearly overpowered me. But something else overcame me, too—it was the urge to make him smile. I told him, “I can hang with dove, but you cannot call me petal.”

He laughed, and the faint moonlight picked out the white of his eyes and teeth. “But it got your mind off Hugo; did it not?”

I tried my best glare, even though it was probably wasted in the shadows. “It did not.”

“I’m flattered by your concern, but truly, Alcántara and I were sparring for centuries before you were born.”

Sparring. The notion gave me a chill. I’d seen how Alcántara dealt with his enemies. I couldn’t bear to see Carden hurt. I wouldn’t see him hurt. “You’re obviously not the killer,” I said, growing serious. “We need to find out who is. I’m investigating.”

“The killings?” Carden cupped my cheek, his tone suddenly intense. “You’ll do no such thing.”

“I have to prove your innocence.”

“I’m flattered, Annelise.” He swept his thumb along my lower lip. “You do me an honor even to think it. But I cannot allow you to put yourself at risk.”

“Look,” I continued quickly before his touch could distract me, “I’ll be careful.” I could make headway, especially now that I had Mei-Ling helping me. And I knew exactly where I’d look next—at the cliff where Acari Kate had fallen. She’d seen something before she died; I couldn’t get that scream out of my head. “I’ll go in daylight. I’ll bring friends. There’s strength in numbers.”

“You’ll get hurt.”

“Alcántara told me that the punishment is death. If he pins this on you, and you get killed, how hurt do you think I’ll be then?”

“Dearest one,” he said, his voice gone hoarse. He twined his hand through the hair at the base of my neck, sending a delicious shiver up my body. “Pray it doesn’t come to that.”

I furrowed my brows, trying to keep focused. “It won’t. Not if I find the killer.”

“I’ll find the killer,” he said definitively. He was stroking my neck now, and his touch seared me like a brand. “You need only do two things.”

I resisted the urge to rub against his hand like a cat begging to be pet. “What things?”

“You must swear you’ll keep yourself safe.”

“I swear I’ll be careful,” I told him, and it felt like I was mentally crossing my fingers behind my back. Because swearing to be careful and swearing to not investigate were two different things.

He studied me, looking for the truth, and I met his gaze unabashedly. After all, I hadn’t lied, not really.

Satisfied, he began to massage the base of my neck. His fingers were deft, and the pressure finally, blissfully, began to ease the pounding in my skull that’d plagued me for days.

I sighed with pleasure. “And what else do I need to do?”

“You must kiss me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I didn’t take more urging than that. My eyes fluttered shut. I wet my lips. I waited, desperate to feel his mouth touch mine.

I’d waited so long, agonizing over just this, wondering about the bond, what it meant. All those questions seemed so useless now, faced with the total rightness of this moment.

There was more to our connection than just some chemical reaction. I trusted Carden. I wanted him. I wanted to spend time with him. And I wanted the bond, too. I wanted this feeling I got when he was near…this feeling that I wasn’t in it alone.

This feeling that somebody cared and was brave enough to do something about it.

Carden was Vampire, which meant he was unfathomably powerful. He could be cold and callous. He seemed weary of vampire politics and gamesmanship, bored of the banal and brutish slog of humankind.

But he was also honorable. Wise. Strong in heart and body. I’d sensed it in his reassuring touches—in the brush of a finger, a grazing hand. Touches that were small enough to seem like afterthoughts, but potent enough, with intent enough, to shore me up and make me feel like I wasn’t forgotten. Those had been the moments when I’d felt like he’d not just looked at me, but had looked for me. Seen me.

“This is it,” he whispered, and I felt the brush of his lips against mine. “This will sustain the bond. Are you certain it’s what you want?”

I’d never before experienced a perfect moment, but this came close. The sound of the waves reverberated through our cave, and the crashing echoed my heartbeat. It was dim and cool, the air briny and fresh. It invigorated me, renewed me.

“I’m sure,” I told him. His fingers scraped lightly along my scalp, raking through my hair, and my body shivered with pleasure at the sensation. The muscles in my neck slackened as I let his hand take the weight of my head.

But still the kiss didn’t come. His lips were a whisper away from mine, and I longed to feel the pressure of his mouth on mine. Longed to give myself to him.

He’d been more forthcoming than anyone on this island. I could tell he had a history with Alcántara and probably with others of the Directorate, too. Was he fighting a secret battle with them? Did he court me as an ally or as a woman?

It might have been a little of both, but right here, right now in this cave, I felt all woman in his arms. I waited for the kiss to come, but he teased me, nuzzling my cheek and brushing his nose against mine.

“You can kiss me,” I whispered. Then I said it again, my voice louder, more demanding. “Kiss me, Carden.”

That was all he needed. His tongue swept along my lower lip, and oh God, it felt so good. He was so good. My lips parted on a moan, quickly taken by his kiss.

Fire crackled along my veins, burned through me until I was alive with only one sensation—his touch on my body. The crashing waves, the drip-drip of water in the depths of the cavern, the cold sand beneath me—all these things fell away. All I knew was his mouth on mine.

I couldn’t get close enough and pulled him closer. Then I pulled him closer still, and when I did, I felt his low laugh vibrate through my body.

He parted from me. “Such passion,” he whispered, kissing along my cheek. “I knew,” he said, his breath hot in my ear. “I knew you were a dove with wings of fire.” He kissed his way down to my neck, and I felt the scrape of his fangs.

We flinched apart at the same time.

I’d mocked the girls who were so beholden to these immortals. I had detested the feeders and disdained the vampires, and yet here I was, with a vampire—there was no more vivid a reminder than the brush of those fangs on my neck.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I—It’s just—”

“Hush.” He placed a gentle finger on my lips. “In time, sweet. When you’re ready.” He kissed me again, more gently this time.

But this long and tender kiss drove me wilder than I could’ve imagined. I began to writhe with frustration, wanting a kiss like we’d shared before. Stronger, firmer. “Please.” I cupped his cheeks and pressed my mouth to his. “Really kiss me.”

“I dare not.” His voice was ragged with a desire that amplified mine.

I longed to be a part of him. We would remain bonded—it was all I wanted now. I turned my head slightly, exposing my neck. I’d made my decision. I was ready. “It’s okay.”