Sweet Discovery (The Jessica Sweet Trilogy Book 2) Page 3

  He loved sharing this with Jessica, loved that she gave herself to him, body and blood. His thoughts were only of her when he sank his canines into the softest part of her neck. In fact, he was so focused on their mutual pleasure that he almost missed the spark of panic that flashed in her eyes, and the tensing of her body as he took her vein.

  Almost.

  Chapter Six

  R aven felt so good in my arms, inside me, and lord knows I’ve never had a lover who made me feel like this. And when he sank his fangs into me? I mean, unless you’ve been there, you have no idea. I needed this, tonight more than ever. Needed to feel his touch, his gentleness, his warmth.

  However, when his fangs came out and he lowered his mouth to my neck, instead of preparing for Orgasm 5.0, all I could see was the Raven from my dream. I saw the coldness in those amethyst eyes, the carnage those teeth were capable of—and I couldn’t help it. For a second, I froze.

  Oh, it was only a second. With Raven inside me in all ways Vampire, I was exploding in orgastic spasms before the fear had any chance of taking hold. His lips were tight against my skin as he drank from me, and I shuddered greedily with each teasing pull. I arched my back to bring him closer, my nails digging into his back in uncontrolled passion.

  Still it was there, banging away at my subconscious. As the tremors eased, a flash of the dream overtook me—Raven with my friend, laughing a malicious laugh as he tore out her throat, his eyes cold and soulless. I saw his mouth smeared with Mandy’s blood, the same mouth now buried in my own throat, taking my own blood.

  My body stiffened again, and Raven raised on his elbows, concern flooding his beautiful eyes, their amethyst glow already fading to their natural blue. That change usually took a while after we’d been together, especially if blood was involved. To see it happen so fast, well, he knew something was up. Great.

  I smiled up at him, raising a hand to trace the sharp angle of his cheek, the strong set of his jaw, and I was ashamed to see my fingers shaking. His fangs had mostly retracted, but the points were still sharp when, scolding myself, I slid my finger along his silken lips.

  “Are you okay, amante?” His voice was heavy with that accent I still couldn’t place—and he simply referred to as “European”— more proof of how concerned he was by my actions. I had to fix this, somehow.

  “I’m fine,” I said, but my voice wasn’t as steady as I’d hoped it would be. “I had a bad dream, is all.”

  “While we were making love?” he teased, his effort to ease the mood strained, though the question wasn’t without merit. “I thought that you were well and awake, the way you attacked me when I walked in.” He attempted a smile, but it failed to smooth the furrow in his brow or ease the tension behind his eyes.

  I hated this.

  “Of course not.” I made a stab at my own smile, striving for a lightness I didn’t feel. I slid out from beneath him, and when he sat up, I curled myself into his arms, laying my cheek against his chest to avoid his scrutiny. I didn’t want him to see how shaken I still was.

  “Jessica,” he hesitated, but went on. “You smell of fear. Has something happened? Did I hurt you?”

  “Of course not.” I tightened my arms around his waist, holding on for all I was worth. “Really, Raven, it’s just the dream. It was…bad.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Forcing myself to relax a little, I said, “No. All I want is to feel you, to know you’re close.” His arms tightened around me, but a glance up at his clenched jaw told me he wasn’t entirely persuaded.

  The silence between us was interminable, nearly unbearable.

  “The sun will be up soon,” Raven said.

  “Umm-hmm,” I murmured into his chest.

  “Would you like to come back to the Compound with me? I have some work to do, but afterward we could spend the day together.”

  I considered his offer. There was a dining room table in my shop that was partially stripped, and I really should work on it.

  Plus, the idea of spending the weekend surrounded by Vampires, each one capable of the depravity I’d seen in my dream, was less than appealing at the moment.

  On the other hand, if I refused him, it would hurt Raven further, and that was the last thing I wanted to do. I was being paranoid, and I knew it, so I pasted on a smile and turned to catch his eyes.

  “I could use a day off,” I said, and I felt some of the stiffness leave his body as he stroked my arm with his thumb. This was my Raven. I repeated the thought over and over in my mind as I felt his heart thrumming against my cheek. This is not the animal I saw in my dream.

  When I pulled myself out of Raven’s arms, I was nearly convinced. With a smile I almost felt, I jumped up and said, “I gotta grab a few things, and I’ll be ready.

  Chapter Seven

  R aven watched Jessica disappear into the kitchen, raked a hand through his hair, and rubbed his eyes. What the hell was going on with her? She said it was a dream, but not even her worst visions had made her react to him the way she had tonight.

  He didn’t bother trying to read her mind any more. It had always been touch and go, but lately it was a waste of effort. Her mind was mostly closed to him now, which was as intriguing as it was frustrating.

  Raven sighed, stared at the spot where she’d disappeared, and hoped that spending the weekend with him would help her relax.

  His phone rang as he was pulling his pants on, and he fished in his pocket to locate it.

  “Yeah,” he said, distracted.

  “Raven, Mason wants you back at the Compound. Now.”

  Tas. Great.

  “What’s going on?” Raven asked, searching for his boots.

  “Ah…you need to come in.”

  “Is this about what happened earlier, because seriously Tas, if you…”

  “Raven, please. Just come home.” Something in Tas was off. He had been fluffed earlier, but now his voice was tight, strained

  “We’re on our way,” Raven said.

  “We?”

  “Yeah, Jessica’s with me. We’ll be there in twenty.”

  Tas was talking to someone in the background, his hand covering the mouthpiece making eavesdropping difficult even for Raven’s sensitive ears. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “Mason wants you to bring her. Oh, and Raven? He said no pit stops.” And the line went dead.

  What the hell? Had everyone lost their minds tonight? Pushing a button on his phone, Raven glanced at the time. When had it gotten so late?

  “Jessica? We gotta go,” he called. He walked back into the kitchen as he pulled his shirt on, and nearly ran into her as she came around the corner. Jessica jumped with a yelp, and the fear he’d smelled on her earlier assaulted his senses again.

  “Oh, Raven, you scared me,” she exclaimed, her fingers playing over the makeup case in her hands.

  “Yeah, I seem to be doing that a lot tonight,” he said as he retreated, palms up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Jess. I don’t know what I’ve done, but Christ, I’m sorry.”

  Jessica struggled to hold his gaze, her jaw rising and falling as she clenched her teeth. With a deep breath, she stood up straight and lifted her chin.

  “No, Raven, it’s me,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “That dream really freaked me out, and I can’t seem to shake it.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” He was at a loss. Relationships were a lot harder than he’d anticipated. Seemed like life was so much simpler when he could just fuck ‘em and kill ‘em.

  Raven froze. The thought was fleeting, but it startled him, and he shook his head as if he could erase the ugliness in his mind like an Etch A Sketch.

  When he looked up she was staring at her feet.

  “Is something wrong?” she was asking. “You said we needed to go.”

  Raven stared past her, trying to corral his emotions.

  “It’s later than I thought,” he said, turning away. “And I got a call. Mason’s waiting for us.”

  “Oh,” she
said, her tone indecipherable as she stashed the makeup case, picked up her duffle bag and preceded him out the door.

  Chapter Eight

  T his was going from bad to surreal. Why would Mason want to talk to me? He only wanted to see me when there was a question about Legion-related visions. Since the Sorcerers left town, I’d been relatively vision-free.

  Until tonight, my subconscious asserted. Damn subconscious. I told it to go to hell, and climbed into the Hummer beside Raven. For a long moment he sat there, staring at the side of the barn where I’d faced my first Sorcerer.

  “Raven?” I asked, laying my hand on his arm. When he flinched, it was like a slap in the face. He responded with a distracted smile as he started the vehicle, backed out of the driveway and headed toward the Compound.

  The trip ensued in relative silence, and when we reached Raven’s suite, I flopped down on the big leather couch and grabbed the clicker. Raven went to his room to change, and I was zoning out on some 5 Ingredient Fix when he stalked past me.

  “Mason wants to talk to me first, and said he’d send for you later. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Make yourself at home.”

  His words were clipped, impersonal, and his hand was on the doorknob before I knew what was happening.

  “Hey,” I said, jumping up, and he stopped. “Not gonna kiss me goodbye?” I smiled and walked toward him.

  “Sorry,” he said, brows drawn. “I wasn’t sure…”

  “Raven, I’m okay. I promise.” I brushed a strand of inky hair out of his eyes, and rested my fingers on his stubbled jaw.

  “Then why won’t you share this dream with me? Or was it more than a dream, and you’re afraid to tell me?”

  “No,” I cried, and pulled away. I turned to pace the length of the room, unable to look him in the eye. “I swear, Raven, it was just a dream. I’ve never kept a vision from you, and I won’t. I know how important it is to the Legion to report visions that have anything to do with your race.”

  “We’re not talking about the race, Jessica. I don’t give a shit about the race.” He stepped into my path, intercepting me, yelling at me, and I took an awkward step away from him. I think we were having our first fight.

  “We’re talking about us, Jessica. About how a dream could be so bad that you can’t bear to be near me, in the same room as me, without stinking of fear.” He stalked toward me as he spoke, and I backed away from him until I hit the wall.

  “We’re talking about how I can’t touch you without you flinching, or speak to you without startling you. Dreams are dreams, Jessica, but you’re treating me as though this one were a vision. What you saw, no matter what you choose to call it, was so terrible you think you can’t share it with me, because you believe it was real. And that, my love, is unacceptable.”

  His last words brought him within inches of me, sapphire irises swirling with liquid amethyst, fangs peeking out behind his beautiful, full lips. The transformation, so similar to when we made love, fascinated me. I reached out to touch him again, but he grabbed my wrist and forced it away. I blinked at the sudden pain, and when I looked into his eyes again the amethyst was definitely pushing out the blue. Crap.

  “Don’t try to placate me, Jessica, and don’t blow this off. I’ve had a shit night, and the only thing that kept me going was knowing I was coming back to you. I can’t have you fearing me, amante, and I won’t be lied to. What horror did I commit in this dream?”

  I swallowed hard, but couldn’t answer him, could only glance at my wrist where Raven’s hard grasp would soon leave a bruise he’d never forgive himself for. This must have occurred to him as well, because he released his hold on me, his eyes still boring into mine.

  My head was swimming and I didn’t know what to say, so I pleaded silently for him to understand. It was a wasted effort, though. Without another word, he stormed out of the suite.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered as the sound of the slamming door echoed throughout the room.

  Chapter Nine

  R aven was still shaking when he neared the War Room. Tas, Harrier, Viper and Merlin were already inside, but Mason hadn’t arrived yet. Fan-fuckin’-tastic. He knew if he went in like this, Tas would be on him again, and he did not need any more shit thrown at him tonight.

  Instead, he paced the hall, struggling for some level of control.

  Jessica was afraid of him. He did not understand how a simple dream could be the cause of that level of terror. The scent of it was raw and overpowering, like soured milk laced with tainted blood.

  His actions as he left probably didn’t help matters, but she was lying to him, and that alone ignited a fury within him he hadn’t felt in centuries. A fury so intense, he could feel it’s vibration in his bones.

  For a moment, as he held her wrist, he’d had the urge to snap her arm off and beat her with it until she told him the truth. It was a microsecond—no more—but the thought was there. And that was twice tonight he’d been tempted by violence toward Jessica.

  One more bit of pressure, and she would have required the emergency room. She would be bruised, at the very least. Raven paused in his pacing and looked to the ceiling for answers. Jessica was injured, and it was by his hand. Christ.

  The sound of footsteps alerted Raven to Mason’s approach. Whatever this meeting was about, Raven knew it would require his full attention, but as he entered the War Room he was still distracted by his raging emotions.

  Mason soon joined them, shutting the door before taking his usual seat at the head of the massive oak conference table.

  Raven couldn’t sit, was still too amped up, and he forced himself to lean against the side wall rather than continue pacing. Tas’s constant surveillance didn’t go unnoticed, either. He knew the Aussie was picking up on his emotions, they probably all were at this point, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Sit down, Raven,” Mason ordered from his seat. His short dark hair was slicked back, and he was wearing tan Docker’s and a cream shirt that gave the Warlord an aristocratic air.

  Raven didn’t move; however, when Mason glared at him he reevaluated his decision to remain standing. The Warlord’s normally black eyes were verging on silver with an agitation his casual attire couldn’t disguise. One glance at those sterling orbs had Raven reconsidering and finding a place at the table.

  Merlin sat at his usual spot to Mason’s left, and Tas, Harrier and Viper occupied the remaining black leather chairs. Raven sat across from Tas, fingers digging into the arms of his chair.

  “Tas, report,” Mason barked.

  Tas cleared his throat and glanced at Raven before he began. “At 5:28 this morning, the Soldier Martin and I were making a last check on the alleys in Fallen Cross, when we discovered a body.”

  His focus might be off, but Raven was still aware of the back and forth Tas was throwing between him and Mason. Tas glanced his way again, his brow drawn as he continued.

  “We glamoured the area so we could check it out, and it was a damn good thing. This girl had been torn apart, Mason. By someone…not human.”

  Another glance at Raven, and wasn’t that starting to piss him off.

  Raven gave himself a mental head shake. What was up with his temper tonight?

  “Based on the blood, it looked like she’d been…er…tortured, sliced to shreds by something other than a knife—I’m guessing claws—and her throat was torn out. Classic…preternatural attack.”

  Tas cleared his throat again, refusing to meet Raven’s eye, but the male had his attention now, and Raven felt the words Tas didn’t say like a physical blow.

  Not classic preternatural. He meant classic Rapist.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  “We took digis at the scene, sent them to Merlin.”

  “You have them?” Mason asked the Legion’s computer specialist.

  “Yeah, right here.” Merlin slid a folder to Mason, before tucking his straight black hair behind his ears, his dark, almond-shaped eyes meticulously avoiding Raven.

&nb
sp; Mason opened the folder, his expression blank as he flipped through the pictures of the crime scene. The others were silent, and the full weight of their implications hit Raven like an Acme anvil. He reached for the folder and Mason slid it toward him.

  “TOD?” Mason was saying.

  “Around 2:00 AM, give or take,” Tas said.

  Raven suppressed a shudder. That was when he and Tas were supposed to have connected. The meet-up that they’d missed.

  Panic wrapped its fingers around Raven’s chest and he struggled to breathe, eyes darting wildly from Mason, who had yet to look at him, to Tas, who couldn’t stop with the surreptitious glances.

  Raven opened the folder with shaking hands and spread the pictures out before him. The images staring back at him were all too familiar, the blood, the magnitude of damage.

  And every male in this room suspected him.

  Hell, the girl was killed with his signature style. How could they not suspect him?

  “I didn’t do this,” Raven said, flipping through pictures that could have been of any of his victims. The silence in the room deepened, even Harrier was quiet for a change. Finally, Mason looked at him. Waiting.

  “Tell me.”

  “I…I couldn’t do this.” The shaking was uncontrollable, but paled in comparison to the scarcely contained rage surging throughout his body. As unwelcome as it was, it felt familiar. It felt—good.

  Again with the mental head shake. This internal struggle was doing nothing for his claim of innocence. He didn’t even notice that he was crushing the now empty folder until the thick paper sliced his palm, the pain offering him a little clarity.

  “I wouldn’t.” He slapped his hand on the table, leaving a bloody print behind. “Not any more. Mason, you know me, have worked with me. You know that I…”