A chill wind suddenly burst through the alley. It howled through the narrow passage with the ferocity of a train bearing down on them. Newspapers and other debris caught in the current whirled through the path past them, twirling as though caught in the force of a cyclone.
He broke away abruptly to look into the darkness and fastened his pants as he walked away to stand in the middle of the alley. Pale light shone down on him, casting fierce shadows across his face, illuminating the tension evident in his body and rigid stance. He appeared ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.
Clara shivered and pulled the edges of her blouse together, smoothing her skirt down over her thighs. Something was wrong. Leaning back against the door, she felt inexplicably weak, as though she would faint. Her skin felt feverish despite the cool air, and she didn’t think the cause was their rigorous love-making from moments before. The eerie feeling taking hold grew by the minute, stronger and stronger. Her sight had narrowed down to a single point of focus, and she grasped at the vision of her lover to keep her afloat.
The sudden stillness of the night was broken by his voice, startling her.
“Danior,” he said, speaking into the yawning cavity of darkness before him, a single word that sent chills traveling up her spine despite its simplicity, for she’d thought them alone.
There was such depth of hatred in his voice--she would have had to be deaf to miss it. She never expected he would get a response.
“Am I interrupting?”
Chapter Two
The man stepped from the shadows like a cliche from a bad horror movie. Only nothing about this scene made Clara feel like laughing. An immense feeling of terror pervaded her senses, brought on by the man who’d seemingly come from nowhere. It was an unreasonable reaction, but something about him struck her as frighteningly familiar. The memory of the strange wounds she’d discovered while showering inexplicably came back to her, flashing in her mind’s eye like a haunting vision.
A long, black cape concealed his body, making him appear to almost glide toward them. Equally strange, it took her a minute to realize the wind did not stir his hair or clothes. A chill ran down her spine at the sudden insight. She shook it off, determined not to allow her imagination to run wild.
The scope of her sight began clearing as he neared them, but her breathing was harsh in the ensuing quiet. She had to fight for every breath she took and could only stare in mesmerized horror as the two of them faced off.
A struggle for dominance, for power, was taking place between them, she knew, though neither uttered a word. Unseen energy fairly crackled in the air. She half expected them to lunge at each other’s throats, but after a few minutes of tense waiting, something gave and the cloud of morbidity lessened enough to breathe and think once more.
Clara gasped as a rush of air entered her lungs. Attracted to the sound, the man glanced directly at her for the first time. Darkly beautiful, inky hair framed a face of sharp angles, but his full lips softened masculine edges. His skin was pale enough she wondered if he had an allergy to the sun like a child she’d once known.
A buzzing began in her ears as he stared at her, creeping through her brain like spider webs. Unconsciously, she took a step forward from the shelter of the door frame, releasing the edges of her blouse as she dropped her arms. Air struck her exposed skin. Becoming aware of what she was doing, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the probes tickling her mind.
He smiled, sensuously chilling, and the humming stopped. Clara hastily buttoned her blouse, uncaring if it was straight or not. She swallowed hard. What just happened? she wondered.
“You’ve taken my cherry, Raoul. I admit I hadn’t expected such audacity near my abode,” the stranger said suddenly in a softly seductive voice, returning his attention to the man who had so lately ravished her with pleasure.
Raoul. It sounded archaic. Clara didn’t wonder at the strangeness of his words, rather that she now knew her mystery man’s name. The knowledge had barely settled in her mind before she was caught off guard by Raoul’s response to the man.
Hands clenched as hard and tense as his body, he looked capable of rending a man to pieces. Harsh, almost feral, he said, “I’ve given her the first mark, Danior. There’s nothing you can do.”
The finality of his words made Clara shudder. This confrontation should have struck her as ridiculous, but there was nothing farcical about the two men squaring off. Reaching up, she tenderly touched the bite Raoul had left on her neck in the throws of passion, so close to the wound she’d discovered yesterday. She’d ignored the small pain then, but did he think it entitled him to something more?
“I have only to drain her life’s blood to cancel your marks,” Danior responded.
Enough of that! “What the hell are you two talking about?” she demanded, anger and fear mingling as one.
“A small matter, nothing more, my pet,” Danior said, keeping his eyes trained on Raoul.
“I’m not your ... anything. Or his either.” Her brief insanity had landed her in a hell of a mess. It was past time she got out of here. Scraping through a confrontation was better than sticking around and being murdered. The proximity of the club wasn’t enough of a safety net to suit her nerves, even if there was a chance others could come out the back exit as they had.
Clara straightened her resolve and pushed past the both of them, giving wide berth but exposing her back as she walked by. It couldn’t be helped--it wasn’t so bright that she couldn’t not watch where she was going. Spraining an ankle wouldn’t help her out run them if they gave chase.
Air rushed through the alley as it had earlier, and someone--Danior--laughed harshly behind her. Clara glanced over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. Only she and Raoul remained in the alley. Oh shit. Breathe. Just breathe. She ran. This was too freaky. She half wondered if she’d somehow been drugged and hallucinated the entire episode.
Heels clicking rapidly with hollow sound on the pavement, she raced through the remainder of the alley, looking wildly around as she dug her keys out of her pocket. She just wanted the safety of her car--to go home. Dashing through the floodlight at the end of the alley, past the club’s entrance, she headed for the packed lot where she’d parked.
Raoul caught her at her car. Clara gasped in surprise when he grabbed her. She hadn’t heard him over the deafening thump of her heart, hadn’t expected him to be so fast, so close. One minute she was alone, and the next, he’d spun her around and trapped her against the closed door. Her keys clattered as they struck the ground, knocked from her hand in the tussle.
Raoul closed his large hands around her biceps in a vice grip and pressed his hard body tight to hers, caging her so that she couldn’t move ... unless he willed it. She struggled a minute, realized it was less than useless to fight someone so much larger, and relaxed her back against the cool metal door.
“What do you want?” she asked belligerently, forcing herself to breathe deeply to calm her racing heart. She could act brave when she needed to. She’d talked her way out of worse situations, and she was eager to put this night behind her.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave,” he said with soft menace.
“I’ll scream.”
He leaned in close, until his mouth was inches from her own, teasing with his nearness. His breath warmed her skin, making her lips tingle with awareness. She thought he would kiss her, but when he did nothing, she was strangely disappointed. He was close enough she caught that wild scent that drove her insides into turmoil and filled her with instant lust. She couldn’t remember ever being so ... animalistic before.
“You would have screamed already if you’d planned to, chere.”
What? She’d been so focused on his mouth, she forgot she’d said anything. “I still could.”
“But you won’t.” He rubbed his thumbs against the soft sides of her breasts in a manner that soothed as much as it teased. Her nipples tightened inside her lacy bra, and she suddenly had too much clothing on. She squirmed under the touch, and he pressed his hips harder against her as a warning. Any closer, and he’d be inside
