Fallen Captive (The Fallen Cross Legion Book 2) Read online

  When he reached the elevator, he hit the down button and swore as he waited. The lift wasn’t moving quickly enough for him, so he hit the button again—repeatedly—until the doors opened. Nox continued to swear under his breath as he stepped into the car. He pressed the “one” followed by the “close doors” button, then took a step back to lean against the mirrored wall.

  Only then did he realize he was not alone. The scent of wild heather hit him first, followed by the sound of an exasperated sigh. He glanced over to see Harrier’s sister, Rachel, glaring at him from the other side of the car.

  “Could this night get any more complicated?” she muttered, her arms crossed in front of her as she tapped her foot and looked everywhere but at Nox.

  “It’s been no picnic for me, either,” Nox growled, thinking of his current Raven situation. The last thing he needed was another run in with this particular female on top of everything else.

  Their relationship, if you could call it that, was complicated. He wanted her, gods knew he wanted her, but for one simple fact. She was totally, completely, one hundred percent out of his league. And despite her kindness—she’d saved his life, for chrissakes, not to mention what she’d done for him regarding Mouse’s funeral—he couldn’t bring himself to pull her into the miserable abyss he called a life.

  While he contemplated the best way to get out of another confrontation with her, Rachel took the bull by the horns. She reached around him and pounded the red button at the bottom of the panel, causing the elevator to jerk to a stop.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled and reached for the button to restart the lift.

  Rachel, stepped directly in front of the panel. He thought about picking her up and moving her out of the way, but that didn’t seem like the best course of action, given her current prickly state.

  “Do we have a problem?” he asked.

  “We most certainly do.” Rachel had stretched herself to her full height, all five feet nine inches of her tensed to pounce as she stared at him boldly. “I thought we were getting somewhere, that you were learning what it meant to be grateful for the second chance you’ve been given, not to mention everything I and the Legion have done for you. But I can see by your attitude that nothing has changed. You’re still the same ungracious sod ye were when I saved your worthless skin.” She was on her toes now, the spark of emerald that flashed in her eyes setting Nox back on his heels. The Scot in her was coming out, and as her accent thickened, he did as well, despite the hateful words she spewed.

  “Ye might have the others fooled with your self-sacrificing act and your false eagerness to help. Hell, ye nearly had me fooled, but I’m onto you, boy-o. This?” She waved her hands to indicate their current circumstance. “It’s obvious you haven’t the foggiest clue what it means to be a male worthy of all this. I know you’re not daft. Ye do understand that without me you’d have lost more than your bloody eye, and if you don’t start showing me a bit o’ the respect I’ve earned, I’ll be giving you a matching set!”

  Nox threw his hands up in surrender, and took a retreating step leaving the female all the room she needed to turn around and get things going again. She pushed the button and turned to burn him again with that fiery gaze. He prepared himself to give her a piece of his own mind, but with the blood from his brain having taken a vacation south, he proved much too slow.

  “And another thing.” She stepped up to him and stabbed him in the chest with a red-tipped fingernail. “You don’t get to be annoyed with me. Unless you plan to get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness for the rudeness you’ve shown me time and again, I’d thank you to just avoid me altogether. Now if you’d be kind enough to move your big arse, this is my floor.”

  Later, Nox would wonder what demon possessed him in that moment. As she moved to march past him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, her heaving chest crushed against his own.

  “What the bloody hell do ye think you’re doing?”

  “Shutting you the bloody hell up.” Nox didn’t think, just pressed his lips against hers and kissed her for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around her, and she made a small show of trying to get away, but it was mere seconds before she melted against him and opened her mouth to his desperate tongue. As the fire built between them, Nox shifted them, pushed her against the mirrored wall, and explored her mouth, her teeth. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, tangled her fingers in his hair as she nibbled at his lips, her tongue doing a search and discovery of its own.

  All thoughts of his brother dissipated as he tasted the most incredible female he’d ever encountered. The essence of the blood she donated to heal him after the Vindicta Ceremony danced in his veins still, and he moaned into her mouth, wanting more, wanting all.

  She rubbed against his erection, nestled herself to him, telling him without words that she wanted him as badly as he craved her. He stretched a hand behind her to redirect the elevator back to his floor, but somehow, she slipped through the small gap that movement created, and dashed out the open door.

  Nox stumbled aside and watched, jaw unhinged, as the spitfire of a female disappeared down the hall, her red hair swinging in time with the hypnotic sway of her hips.

  Chapter Three

  I nsufferable bastard!

  After the embarrassing debacle with the Warlord, a faceoff with Nox was the last thing Rachel needed. She had to admit she’d been intrigued by the male at Thanksgiving last year. The way he had tamed the situation when Raven had gone beast mode was fascinating. She’d wanted to talk to him then, to get to know him, and damned if she didn’t sound like Mason right now.

  When Kythryn destroyed his eye with a cursed dagger during the cat Shifters’ punishment ritual, Rachel had been inexplicably beside herself with worry. She hadn’t hesitated to open a vein for him, and more than once, just to keep the infection at bay, to keep him from losing his mind if not his life.

  Nox had an unusual gift in that he could not only compel creatures of other races, but Vampires as well. No other Vampire in history possessed this ability, and if the infection had reached his brain, they would have all been in danger. At the time, she convinced herself she was protecting the race, though deep down she sensed there was more to it.

  Then he threw her out of his hospital room without so much as a fare-thee-well, and her curiosity about the male ebbed. She reminded herself that she’d acted to save the Legion, her family and the people she’d come to think of as family, from the potential disaster Nox’s illness threatened. Any other feelings swimming around inside her were distractions she neither needed nor wanted, and so she put them away, never to be thought of again.

  Then the damn fool apologized, drawing her in with that gorgeous black hair and a single eye that carried enough sorrow behind it to reflect the woes of a thousand males. And she’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker. So much so, that when he came back bloodied and bruised from the run in with his former feral brood, she’d once again gone running to the rescue, agreeing not only to stitch up his wounds, but to arrange a bloody funeral for the friend he’d lost in the skirmish.

  No wonder when the true battle against the ferals resulted in even more injuries, she’d immediately run to his side, ready to lend a hand, open a vein, whatever he needed. And once again he proved her a damned fool, refusing her blood and walking out the door as if she’d offered him a bologna sandwich.

  She’d kept her word regarding Mouse’s funeral, but vowed beyond that she’d not be taken in by him again. The encounter in the elevator was proof that they couldn’t be in the same room without one or both of them saying or doing something reckless. She’d be damned if she let him reel her in again, only to be thrown back with the bilge water.

  And then the eejit kissed her.

  He had a lot of nerve, putting his hands on her like that. And his lips, and that sweet, silky tongue…

  Damn it.

  She found herself staring at the door
to her suite, clueless as to how long she’d stood there, panting with a mixture of anger and frustration. She would not let him pull her in again. She wasn’t a sodding yo-yo, for chrissakes.

  Rachel calmed herself with slow, deep breaths. No need to agitate the children with her bad mood. They had enough to be getting on with, having been dumped in the middle of nowhere by her ne’er-do-well sister, Rebecca. Then to be used by a Sorcerer hell bent on destroying the Legion? Well, they didn’t need her drama added on top of everything else.

  When she felt she had regained control, she went inside and closed the door. Talon sat on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, an ice cream cone in one hand, and the television remote in the other. Rachel cleared her throat. The boy sat up straight, planted his feet on the floor where they belonged and licked frantically at a bit of ice cream that threatened to drip onto the carpet.

  “Hi, Aunt Rachel,” he said, pulling a big, goofy smile. It was meant to portray innocence, but she knew better. A lock of red hair, so like her own, fell over his eyes and he shook his head to clear it away. “How was dinner?”

  “Oh, you know, it was dinner.” She walked into the room and laid her sweater across the back of a chair before joining him on the sofa. “Did you eat?”

  Talon held up the ice cream cone, and Rachel cocked her head. “Real food?” But the boy just smiled again, and she couldn’t help herself. She smiled back.

  “We had chicken fingers and French fries,” Phire said as she joined them in the living room, giving her brother a playful smack upside the head. “What did the Warlord want?”

  Always straight to the point with that one. While she favored her brother in looks, she was so much like Rachel in attitude. Her twin seemed to have inherited many of his mother’s less admirable traits, but Rachel put forth tremendous effort toward nurturing them out of his system.

  “Just dinner,” Rachel answered Phire’s question and fell back against the sofa, dropped her head against the cushions and closed her eyes.

  “Just dinner?” Phire was relentless. “That’s weird.”

  “Yes,” Rachel agreed. “Totally weird. Did you do your homework?”

  “Mine’s done,” Phire said, “But I would check Talon’s if I were you.”

  “Shut up, Sapphire.”

  “You shut up. Aunt Rachel, do you think we could look at the constellation charts again tomorrow? I love how they coincide with the mythologies you’ve been teaching us.”

  “Brown nose.”

  “Butt head.”

  Rachel let her mind wander as her new family went through their usual routine. It was nice. Loud, but nice. She didn’t need a male in her life to complicate things. Not a fancy one like Mason or a frustrating one like Nox. All she needed she had right here. She had a family, and though it wasn’t what you would call traditional, she was proud to call it her own.

  Then again, that kiss…

  Chapter Four

  N ox made his way to the Club, distracted from his initial purpose by the encounter with Rachel in the elevator. Her lips, her hair…her bloody damned nerve.

  His cock twitched as the kiss replayed itself on a loop in his head. What the hell had he been thinking?

  That all of her up-in-his-face had been hot as hell, that’s what.

  He stood outside the entrance to the fancy gym the Warriors used for honing their already toned bodies and rearranged himself, dreading what he would find inside.

  He’d so much rather be back in his suite, eating pizza and going over all the reasons pursuing Rachel was a bad idea. Surely, if he looked long enough, he could come up with something that would make offering himself to her less insulting. Yet in all the months he’d known her he had yet to think of a single thing. She was pure-blooded Vampire, class personified. A lady, by human terms, and far too good for the likes of him.

  The scent of her, of clean cotton and wild heather, clung to him still, and he inhaled deeply. Maybe her essence would have a calming effect for a change, help him through the confrontation on the other side of these doors. He leaned his head against the frame, tried to gather his control before facing Raven and that bloody beast of his.

  Grunting and screaming far beyond what one would usually expect in a workout situation slipped through the heavy oak and any romantic thoughts he harbored melted away. Arguing with Rachel always got his blood up, but this face off with his twin, the fact that it was even necessary, laid his own temper on a knife’s edge. Helping to control his brother’s beast may have been his ticket into this new life he enjoyed, but had he known it would be all-consuming, he might have walked away and not looked back. Maybe he should have.

  The sound of breaking glass brought him back to the issue at hand and urged him through the double doors to face his raging brother.

  Two of the seven heavy bags that lined the south wall hung like deflated balloons, dusty piles of sand lying in dunes beneath them as Raven gave the next in line a thorough beating. Shards of reflective glass crunched beneath Raven’s booted feet, the piece of wall where the mirror had been like a missing tooth in that row of bright and shiny.

  Any other time, Nox would have taken a deep breath and moved in to do his thing, to calm the beast his brother carried within him as only Nox could do.

  But not tonight. Tonight, the sight of all that out-of-control just pissed him off. Nearly a year had passed since Nox started working with Raven, helping him to contain his beast through meditation and gods-damned self-control. The male had a child on the way. He absolutely should not be losing it like this, not now, not anymore. He should have a handle on it, and frankly, Nox was sick of baby-sitting his ass.

  Any calm he’d managed to harness out in the hall disappeared. Rachel was an enigma, Raven was impossible, and Nox was so damned over it.

  So wrapped up in his war on the heavy bags, Raven either didn’t hear Nox enter or ignored him. Either way, it was about to end. Nox strode to the male and tapped him on the shoulder.

  Raven turned to him, eyes sparking bright amethyst, fangs bared, fists drawn, and Nox punched him right in the fucking jaw. He followed up with a left hook, and then a right. The uppercut put his brother on the mat. Soldier training was paying off.

  Of course, knocking him on his ass did nothing to sedate his twin, who jammed his fists on the floor to push himself up. Nox was ready for him, though. He simultaneously planted a foot on Raven’s chest and reached mental fingers into his brother’s mind, forcing as much psychic pain as he could into the other male’s cranium without doing permanent damage. Hell, at this point, maybe he should reconsider holding back.

  “Try me, brother,” he said on a growl, as Raven’s screams turned from anger to pain.

  Raven collapsed against the floor and threw his hands up in surrender.

  Nox eased up on the mental abuse, but left his foot where it was. “We good?”

  Raven rubbed his jaw, a bit of blue working its way through the purple spark in his eyes. “That’s a new approach.”

  “Perhaps I should have implemented it ages ago.” Nox stepped back and stretched out a palm. Raven gave it a wary look before grabbing on, allowing Nox to pull him to his feet. Nox ignored the narrowed eyes that had nearly returned to their natural sapphire.

  “Should I be worried?” Raven asked as he brushed shards of glass and heavy bag debris from his hands.

  Nox glanced at his fists, red from the abuse they’d taken from his brother’s iron jaw. A small cut oozed blood where he’d probably caught a fang. “They’ll heal,” he said, shrugged.

  “Not what I meant and you know it. You’re not generally so…physical. What’s up?”

  Nox looked to the ceiling, hoping to find a bit of patience lurking in the steel rafters. “I’m tired of this, Raven. You’re still having these episodes, and it’s got to stop.”

  Raven dragged a hand through is hair, leaving the long black locks in a tangled mess. “I know,” he growled. “But he disrespected my mate.”

  “W
hat did he say that earned him a trip to the infirmary?”

  Raven’s eyes sparked again, but a mental flick on the ear from Nox had him backing off. “He asked if Jessica had developed a sexy waddle.”

  Nox refrained from laughing, but only just. “Has she?”

  Raven growled, the purple spark returning to his eyes as he curled his lip in a snarl that bared a bit of fang.

  Nox shook his head and pointed. “See. That right there would have worked just as well with the Soldier. Was it really necessary to bite his finger off?”

  “It’ll grow back.”

  “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

  Raven waved his hand in dismissal, and limped over to the incline bench. He grabbed a towel and sat hard, wrenching the thick terry cloth in his fists. “Jessica’s getting close. Less than eight weeks.”

  Nox joined him at the bench and stood over him, watching his brother with a new understanding. “All the more reason for you to get yourself under control.”

  Raven stood, paced the length of the Club. On his return trip he stopped in front of Nox and said, “I know. I do know, but Nox…I’m going to be a father. What if I fuck her up? The kid. I could totally ruin her.”

  Nox put his hand on Raven’s shoulder and forced him to make eye contact. “Or you could be amazing. You know I have zero comprehension of what being a good parent entails, but I promise you, I know what having no parent can do. Izzie is going to have both a mother and a father who love her more than life.”

  “But what if she grows up and hates me?”

  “From what I’ve read, that means you’ve done your job. And it will only last throughout her teens when you become the ‘worst parents ever.’ But that’s years from now. Your daughter will worship you, whether you deserve it or not.”

  Raven pulled away, turned to examine himself in the broken mirror. “She nearly died last time.” Of course, he was talking about Jessica, now.