Twilight's Possession - Burning Hunger Part 12

"Did you know about this too? About the Triad?" she asked him, hot tears blurring her vision, even as wild, wicked desire pulsed through her body. Now was so not the time to get h.o.r.n.y.

"No. I swear I didn't know."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe either of you. Not a word you say. You're both a couple of lying creeps. Then again, why would I even consider trusting a couple of guys who stoop to kidnapping women? h.e.l.lo?" She yanked her arm free from Marek's grasp and knocked on her skull. "Is anybody home? I'm such an idiot." She wrapped her fist around the doork.n.o.b and pulled but Marek slammed the door shut and blocked her path. "Move out of my way," she growled.

"Not until you hear everything."

"I've heard enough."

"My brother is dying."

"So sad for you."

"I need the Triad to cure him. The Rebellion stole it from your client, to use it against my brother. It activates an ancient curse."

"This sounds like the plot from some low-budget movie." She shoved him, using her weight to try to knock him out of her way. Of course, he didn't even twitch. It really p.i.s.sed her off that she was so weak.

Marek gripped her upper arms in his fists. "I need your help."

"I'm already on a case. Hire your own private detective."

He shook her, not exactly gently but not hard enough to cause brain damage either. It was enough to make her meet his gaze. His eyes were teary and red, full of genuine pain, desperation. "Have you ever lost someone you loved?"

She tipped her head to leer at him. "Yes. I have."

"Could you have stopped it?"

"No. But if I could have, I would've done anything-"

"That's just it. I can do something. With your help." A single tear slipped from the inner corner of his eye and ran along the side of his nose. "Only with your help."

That little droplet of water doused her anger. She'd never been able to resist a man who was vulnerable. "You're not lying?"

"No."

"You're really a vampire?"

"We've both bitten you several times but you don't remember. Our venom acts as an amnesiac."

That explained some things. "Is that why I hurt here...why my body reacts the way it does?"

"It's the blood-bond. It causes what we call the hunger."

"The hunger?" she echoed, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that vampires really existed.

"The hunger is the byproduct of a chemical change in your body. It makes you desire us. And vice versa, us desire you. And each other."

Then her desire for them was...artificial? At least she didn't have to feel guilty for falling in instant l.u.s.t with them.

She looked to Dayne for rea.s.surance. It came in the form of a simple nod...and a fangy sneer.

"I knew there was something weird about you two." She shrugged away from Marek, shuffling back a couple of steps to get a long look at her Chippendales. "It's pretty creepy, you know. You guys have been snacking on me all this time and I don't remember a thing. Anything else I've forgotten?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Marek answered, chuckling. "We've done our best to make sure everything else has been quite memorable."

"Ohmygos.h.!.+ Oh. My. Effing. G.o.d! Am I a vampire too? Did you turn me? Am I going to have to drink blood? Oh, I hate blood."

Laughter glittering in his eyes, Dayne took a single step closer. "Humans can't be 'turned'. The movies have that all wrong. They have a lot of things wrong."

She huffed a huge sigh of relief. "Is that so? What else do they have wrong?"

They sandwiched her between them, fangs bared.

The air thinned and heated. Her skin started tingling, first at her nape then her chest, stomach, lower. "Is this how it goes?" Being carried away by the erotic heat swirling through her body, she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, baring her throat. Crazy impulses flashed through her mind. She wanted to explore the dark side of her desire, to experience firsthand what it felt like to submit, to be conquered and controlled. "You use me and abuse me?"

"I don't know," Marek said, laving her shoulder with his tongue. "I kind of think you'll come to like that part." When his fangs pierced her skin, a powerful o.r.g.a.s.m pulsed through her body. She surrendered on a moan.

"Are you ready now? Ready to give this another try?" Dayne held a set of restraints in his fists. "No one is forcing you. It's your choice. Your decision, yes or no. We'll do as you wish."

She looked at her Chippendales, the two men who'd proven to be a whole lot more than a couple of s.e.xy, manipulative kidnappers. They hadn't always done what she'd wanted. But in the end she had to be grateful for that fact. Because by pus.h.i.+ng her, stripping away her defenses, they'd helped her see how she'd allowed her fears to hold her prisoner. Issues with trust, of taking risks-with her life, body, secrets and heart.

She wanted to be freed. From all her fears. Her Chippendales hadn't raped her. She'd seen it as rape because of her feelings about bondage, or more specifically accepting her desires as a woman. What had happened with Steven had been terrible, but a combination of things had contributed to that night, some her fault, some his, and some n.o.body's. To say that night didn't matter anymore wasn't fair. Because the experience had left her scarred, unable to accept herself. To say that those scars had completely and miraculously healed wasn't realistic either.

But thanks to Dayne and Marek, she was ready to take the first step. She slowly peeled away her clothes then, standing before them completely undressed, said, "Yes, I think I'm ready now." This time, when Dayne secured the restraints around her wrists, she trembled with nervous antic.i.p.ation instead of cold terror.

"Will you tell us what happened?" Marek sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. "What secret have you been hiding?"

Her gaze swept over his face before settling on his eyes. Kind eyes, full of genuine concern. She started slowly. Each word stuck in her throat. It took effort to pry them loose, one at a time. "I had a friend. A dear friend. I trusted him. I needed him. I was away from home. Unsure. Maybe I was foolish when I let him tie me up. But he'd never done anything, said anything, that made me feel it wouldn't be okay. We were playing, just experimenting." Hot tears ran from her eyes, blurring her vision. She did a lot of blinking, sniffling, as the memories of that night swept through her mind. Marek thumbed away a droplet dribbling over her cheek and for a short time, she just sat there, letting his gentle touches and watery eyes touch her heart. A soothing peace spread through her, giving her strength to continue, "And then it went wrong, and I couldn't stop him. And afterward I blamed myself. I felt guilty, since I'd been the one to suggest he tie me up. It couldn't be normal, my obsession with bondage. Only prost.i.tutes liked that kind of thing, right? Prost.i.tutes and mentally ill people. So I shut it all out, my s.e.x life, my desires. They were dirty and abnormal. Wrong."

"They're not dirty or wrong. h.e.l.l, the psychologists dropped S-and-M from their list of mental illnesses." Her face caught between his hands, Marek kissed her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. "You're not obsessed. You're curious. That's completely okay. Your friend was wrong. Very wrong. You know that now, right?"

"I'm starting to see that."

Marek nodded. "Then you're ready."

"With us, you have all the power, Brea, regardless of the restraints," Dayne said as he eased her onto her back and slid his hand between her thighs. "I promise, if you say the word, we'll stop."

"What word?"

Standing and unzipping his pants, Marek donned a fangy grin. "How about Van Helsing?"

"How very appropriate." She couldn't help smiling. Yes, this was what she had always craved, what she'd been missing in her physical relations.h.i.+ps in the past. s.e.x would never again simply be a physical exercise. The joining of male parts to female parts. It was as much mental as physical. She wasn't abnormal or sick just because she was curious about domination and submission. She wasn't asking to be raped. She wasn't dirty. There was no reason to feel guilty for asking for certain things. No longer would s.e.x be just about reaching the finish line, the Big O. It would be about power, submission. Surrender. Discovery. Experimentation. She had her Chippendales to thank for that.

Marek's words wouldn't leave Dayne's head. They played through his mind, over and over, in that trembly voice. Neither would the image of his blood-mate's pain-filled eyes.

Was it the blood-bind? Did it make his heart soften to his enemy's pain? Or was it something else? Did it matter?

He wasn't sure he could go through with his plan anymore. Not when he looked into Marek's eyes. He felt Marek's pain. Deep in his gut. It took the form of a cold, hard weight that sapped his strength and left him feeling empty and lost. How could he destroy Marek? Sure, he no longer sought to kill him. But he knew now what Kaden's death would do to him. Marek would never be the same man.

But what about his commitment to the Rebellion? To the friends who had backed him all these years? They'd sacrificed so much. How could he just turn his back on them now?

He was between h.e.l.l and Hades. He had to make a choice. But which one? Who would he betray?

"I only checked one science museum before she stopped me." Brea was dressed, but Marek could barely resist the urge to strip her clothes and make sweet love to her all over again. The more he had of her, the more he wanted her. He could still taste her honey on his lips. Could still smell her special scent clinging to his fingertips.

He watched her pull a brush through her hair. How he ached to run his fingers through the satin strands again, to pull. And taste. Skin, juices, kiss.

It was the hunger. The f.u.c.king hunger!

Angry and frustrated, he forced himself to move farther away. Her scent followed him. And the memory of her cries of pleasure played through his head. He went to his weapons closet. What to take with him? Gun? Dagger? Sword?

He lifted the saber off its mount and weighed the weapon in his hands. Guns were effective enough for humans. But he would need a silver blade. Sons of the Twilight could only be killed with a blade forged from silver.

How fitting, he thought wryly. He'd use a gift from his father to defend his brother's claim to the throne, and his life.

"Can you think of another place with a model of the solar system? Or a sun and planets?" Brea asked.

Marek's addled mind slowly caught up with the conversation. Brea was sitting on the bed, looking up at him with expectation.

"Honestly no," he answered. "That's where I thought we'd search first."

She stood, her jaw set. "Okay. Well, you two can't go outside until after dark. That's hours from now. It's up to me. I'll hit the science center in Bloomfield Hills next-"

Dayne interrupted, "No, you can't leave. It's too risky."

"I'll be extra careful."

Dayne wasn't going to give in. He posture reflected his att.i.tude. "No. Absolutely not. We'll wait until dark and go together."

Brea tossed her hands in the air. "But if the museums are closed, how will we get in? If we have to break in somehow, we'll run out of time. What if the first couple of places are the wrong places?"

Marek traced the swirling engravings in his sword's hilt, his mind lost in his worries and doubts. "We just have to make sure we're going to the right place first."

"How will we do that?"

"I don't know."

Was there any hope that they could save his brother's life? He looked at the clock on the nightstand. The second hand measured Kaden's final hours with racing tick-tocks. Yet they were still no closer to finding the Triad than they were this morning.

He needed a miracle. Just one little miracle.

His heart heavy, he set down his sword, crossed back to the desk and hit the power b.u.t.ton on the computer. Until sundown, the only searching they could do was on the web.

Chapter Ten.

Brea set the stack of maps printed off the computer on the car's dashboard and slid into the pa.s.senger seat. Dayne had kindly volunteered his car for this road trip, since Marek's van was not exactly roadworthy with two shot-out windows and a shattered winds.h.i.+eld.

Beside her, in the driver's seat, Dayne started the car and s.h.i.+fted it into gear.

"If we follow the route I mapped out," Marek said from the backseat, "we should have enough time to search at least two of the museums before sunrise. Unless we're caught trying to break into one of them."

Silent, Dayne steered the vehicle onto the winding dirt road.

Brea pulled the first map off the dash and studied it. "We need to head north on I-275."

"Okay," Dayne responded distantly.

Brea stiffened, again wondering what was up with Dayne. All afternoon, while Marek and she had been scouring the internet for clues, he'd been withdrawn, quiet, detached. She'd asked him several times what was wrong, but being a man, he simply said "nothing".

But his eyes couldn't lie. Not to her. He was struggling with something. A very difficult decision of some kind. She couldn't help wondering if it had something to do with the Triad.

Ten minutes later, she learned her suspicions weren't silly paranoid thoughts to be shrugged off.

They were at the entry of the freeway...rolling past the ramp to northbound I-275.

"Uh, you missed the turn," she said as she pointed out the window. "Dayne?"

He didn't respond.

She twisted in her seat and glanced back at Marek. They traded worried looks. Obviously, Marek was as surprised as she was.

He s.h.i.+fted forward on the seat. "Hey, Dayne? What's up? Change of plans?"

"Yeah," Dayne snapped, looking over his shoulder. "What's wrong? Don't trust me?"

Marek and Brea traded a second worried look.

And then everything went blurry and Brea lurched forward. She caught herself on outstretched arms less than a second before her head struck the dash. "Dayne!" she shrieked, when her brain registered the red brake lights ahead.

"Dammit!" Dayne shouted, counter-steering the car out of a skid.

"Wha-?!" Marek barked from the back.

The car's tires gained traction on the asphalt none too soon. The car screeched to a stop so close to the Ford in front of them Brea could see the driver's panicked gaze in the rearview mirror.

Arms still out, palms pressed against the dash, Brea dragged in a lungful of air. She could hear both Marek and Dayne doing the same. She looked to her left, studying Dayne's profile.