aftertaste.
His pulse resounded through her head, piquing her hunger. She left his mouth to explore his cheek. He muttered something she couldn’t understand and seemed on the brink of drawing away. Nikia tightened her hold on his hair, pulling his head back slightly as her mouth drifted lower, with her tongue tasting his skin. He smelled all male and the flavor of his skin was as unique as his blood.
Thinking of his blood caused her stomach to contract and her mouth watered, remembering his sweet taste. Acting on instinct, her mouth went lower, settling over the steady thump of his carotid artery. She was marginally aware of the way he tensed but lust and hunger mingled to blind her to anything but the delicious blood flowing through his vein, just under her teeth. Her bloodteeth descended.
Suddenly, he pushed her away. If she hadn’t braced herself against a seat, she would have fallen. She blinked. “What happened?”
“Stay away from me.” He snarled the command in a raspy tone. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. Whatever spell you’re weaving on me, it won’t work.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing anything.”
He touched his neck. “You weren’t about to feast on me? Steal another bite or two—just enough to incapacitate me so you could slip away?” His expression darkened. “Or perhaps you were going to drain me dry so I couldn’t find you again?”
She brushed the hair off her face. “You’re so wrong.” Her eyes burned with tears but she refused to let them fall. “It was instinct. I’m sorry.” She looked away from him, determined not to reveal her hurt feelings. She also wanted to hide the knowledge of what his blood did to her. Otherwise, he might decide to keep her drugged and docile during the rest of the journey at the cost of a bit of his blood.
He snorted, but said nothing else. With an impatient gesture, Atar motioned her to move. Nikia clutched her case, standing erect, struggling to maintain an icy façade. His arm around her came as no surprise this time. Although her body’s response was no less immediate, she refused to acknowledge the surge of desire. She accompanied him down the Jetway without a flicker of emotion, though her mind was a mass of confusing feelings.
Ruzyne’s terminal was a crush of busy travelers fighting to get to their gates. Nikia drifted alongside Atar, letting him find a path through the passengers meeting with or parting from friends and family. As they passed a woman in her twenties, embracing an older woman who looked very much like her, Nikia experienced a pang of regret that she would never have that type of relationship with her mother. If she succeeded in banishing Illiana’s presence, there could be no relationship of any kind. Without a body to inhabit, her essence would disappear.
Flashes of the worst deeds of her mother’s life came to Nikia, lessening her regret for the opportunity they never had. Illiana was evil. Had she not chosen to start over with the possession of her daughter’s body at Nikia’s birth, she still wouldn’t have been the motherly type. Nikia had only ever been a means to an end and when Illiana realized she had incorrectly figured the time of conception to have Nikia be the acknowledged heir to the Protectorate, her daughter had failed to be useful in any capacity, except as a way for Illiana to escape the punishment she deserved.
So engrossed was she in introspection that Nikia was surprised to find they had arrived at the passport counter. Atar had released his hold on her but she knew he kept his senses attuned to her. Should she try to run, he would follow. She remained by his side as he handed over their documents, knowing now wasn’t the opportune time to flee. She spoke only once, to answer a question of the attendant and then returned to her silence.
Heavy thoughts weighed on her mind while she walked beside him through the terminal, heading for the exit. The gulf between them was
His pulse resounded through her head, piquing her hunger. She left his mouth to explore his cheek. He muttered something she couldn’t understand and seemed on the brink of drawing away. Nikia tightened her hold on his hair, pulling his head back slightly as her mouth drifted lower, with her tongue tasting his skin. He smelled all male and the flavor of his skin was as unique as his blood.
Thinking of his blood caused her stomach to contract and her mouth watered, remembering his sweet taste. Acting on instinct, her mouth went lower, settling over the steady thump of his carotid artery. She was marginally aware of the way he tensed but lust and hunger mingled to blind her to anything but the delicious blood flowing through his vein, just under her teeth. Her bloodteeth descended.
Suddenly, he pushed her away. If she hadn’t braced herself against a seat, she would have fallen. She blinked. “What happened?”
“Stay away from me.” He snarled the command in a raspy tone. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted. Whatever spell you’re weaving on me, it won’t work.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing anything.”
He touched his neck. “You weren’t about to feast on me? Steal another bite or two—just enough to incapacitate me so you could slip away?” His expression darkened. “Or perhaps you were going to drain me dry so I couldn’t find you again?”
She brushed the hair off her face. “You’re so wrong.” Her eyes burned with tears but she refused to let them fall. “It was instinct. I’m sorry.” She looked away from him, determined not to reveal her hurt feelings. She also wanted to hide the knowledge of what his blood did to her. Otherwise, he might decide to keep her drugged and docile during the rest of the journey at the cost of a bit of his blood.
He snorted, but said nothing else. With an impatient gesture, Atar motioned her to move. Nikia clutched her case, standing erect, struggling to maintain an icy façade. His arm around her came as no surprise this time. Although her body’s response was no less immediate, she refused to acknowledge the surge of desire. She accompanied him down the Jetway without a flicker of emotion, though her mind was a mass of confusing feelings.
Ruzyne’s terminal was a crush of busy travelers fighting to get to their gates. Nikia drifted alongside Atar, letting him find a path through the passengers meeting with or parting from friends and family. As they passed a woman in her twenties, embracing an older woman who looked very much like her, Nikia experienced a pang of regret that she would never have that type of relationship with her mother. If she succeeded in banishing Illiana’s presence, there could be no relationship of any kind. Without a body to inhabit, her essence would disappear.
Flashes of the worst deeds of her mother’s life came to Nikia, lessening her regret for the opportunity they never had. Illiana was evil. Had she not chosen to start over with the possession of her daughter’s body at Nikia’s birth, she still wouldn’t have been the motherly type. Nikia had only ever been a means to an end and when Illiana realized she had incorrectly figured the time of conception to have Nikia be the acknowledged heir to the Protectorate, her daughter had failed to be useful in any capacity, except as a way for Illiana to escape the punishment she deserved.
So engrossed was she in introspection that Nikia was surprised to find they had arrived at the passport counter. Atar had released his hold on her but she knew he kept his senses attuned to her. Should she try to run, he would follow. She remained by his side as he handed over their documents, knowing now wasn’t the opportune time to flee. She spoke only once, to answer a question of the attendant and then returned to her silence.
Heavy thoughts weighed on her mind while she walked beside him through the terminal, heading for the exit. The gulf between them was
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