Chapter Three

 

“You’re what?” Kit asked, almost soundlessly. She cleared her throat and spoke again, only slightly louder. Byron was sitting at his desk, looking for all the world like an upper-class businessman. He was wearing a white silk shirt, a black vest, unbuttoned, and a pair of black, trim-fitting pants. His hair would look ridiculous on some men—like a man trying to follow the trends—the way he kept it cut brutally short on the lower sides and the back, letting it fall long on the top and upper sides. Kit loved his hair, loved how thick and soft it looked, loved the midnight blackness of it. She knew his feet were bare and she knew he couldn’t do a damn thing with a computer. She did that for him, but he was a fucking genius when it came to mathematics, and he ran a small empire from this little enclave.

He was the youngest Hunter in America, and the youngest Master with his own enclave. There had been others in history, but they hadn’t lasted long. So far, Byron had not only lasted, but thrived. He dismissed those facts as he dismissed his wealth, attributing it to luck.

Byron was more than a Hunter, even if he didn’t acknowledge that.

Kit knew it even if he didn’t. Byron was amazing. And together, they could be more so. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to share his life with her. He didn’t want her.

He was sending her away.

“It’s time you go to France and find out more about your mother’s people,” he said, forcing himself to ignore the wild pain in her eyes.

“You’re sending me away.”

“I’m not sending you away, Kit,” he said quietly. “It’s for two years.”

“You are,” she argued, keeping her voice level. He wasn’t going to appreciate another wailing, sniveling female. She couldn’t stop the pain from showing, but she’d be damned if she cried. “You’re sending me away, just like the rest. But I haven’t done anything.”

“No,” he agreed. “You haven’t done anything. It’s France, Katrine. Don’t you want to see France? And Russia, where your father came from? Doesn’t that matter?”

Not unless you are with me, she thought. She just stared at him, bleeding inside. Finally, through her tight throat, she asked, “Why?”

Byron stared at her and said nothing.

She swallowed, the sound horribly loud in the silence of the room. Her body felt terribly bruised and battered—strange. All she had done was walk in here and stand in front of the desk for a mere three minutes. And her whole life had just been irrevocably changed.

She turned and slowly walked away.

“Fuck,” she heard him say quietly. “You’ve never been anywhere else, sweet. You have to go see other things, try other things before you commit yourself to my world.”

“I’ve committed myself to this world already, Byron. Or have you forgotten?” she asked wearily.

He hadn’t, no. How could he forget the delirious, shameful pleasure that had filled him when she had petitioned the Council to join his Enclave, to join his world? It had given him the right to keep her, for always. But Byron knew he really didn’t have that right, because of the promise he had made to her father. He shouldn’t have agreed to take her in. But if he hadn’t, she would have been sent to another Hunter.

“Kit, you don’t belong here.”

She laughed—a horrible, wild sound that echoed through the room and it made them both wince. “Yes, I do,” she said. And then she left.

Byron felt shaken to his soul. He had never seen her eyes look quite that empty. Damn it, it was France. For a year. Then Russia. Another year. Then she was coming back. He’d damn well see to that. She didn’t truly think he’d let her leave him forever, did she?

She’d go, experience a little more of life than she could here, and then, when she returned, he’d—

Fuck, what in the hell was going on? Byron paced the room, hungry, mad, furious with himself and with her. She had looked so hurt, so unlike Kit.

He left his office for his rooms, ignoring Ben, the Inherent who lived with him, and Mathias, the vampire who served as his third in command, under Kit. All were under Kit. Kit was the only one he trusted with everything, and he had to send her away. Damn it all to hell and back, he thought furiously.

Byron tore off his fine clothes and donned tougher, darker clothes that would blend with the night as he hunted. He was a young Hunter and though he was strong, he wasn’t as arrogant as some. He wasn’t going to trust only his vampire abilities to save him. He knew how to fight, and he trained regularly. He made sure all his people did as well, in case anyone ever tried to bring a battle onto his territory.

He wanted a bloody fight tonight and he doubted hunting was a wise choice. He should, if he was smart, find Eli and just have a bloody brawl.

But Byron took to the woods and went searching for prey. He had set up his territory in a wooded area, buying enough land to provide himself and the wolves some privacy, but keeping them close to the city so he could hunt easily. He had known his duty was to keep his chosen prey near by.

As always, he found it in Chicago. This, of course, was why he had chosen it as his territory. Even in his former life, this had been a large city and trouble had always been brewing. A few decades had not changed that. The method of madness had changed. More guns and drugs now, instead of fistfights and alcohol, but it was there.

He found his preferred prey in a rough neighborhood. They had been stalking a pretty young girl in a nurse’s uniform who was now fighting wildly against the two men who held her. There was a third, and Byron waited until the third had moved a little closer before he reformed and moved in, taking the man’s neck and snapping it like a twig before catching another in a mental hold and freezing him.

The third one hadn’t realized what was going on until the girl took off running. He started to go after her when Byron caught him and threw him against the wall with his inhuman strength. The blow caused the man’s head to split and start to bleed while Byron stared down into the man’s dazed eyes. “She doesn’t want to play, my friend,” he crooned, catching the man’s head and jerking it to the side before he struck. He took only a little, enough to establish a mental connection while he laid a path.

The next time this bastard tried to prey on any creature, it would be his last. If he faltered in any way, it would lead Byron back to him. Drawing back, staring into his eyes, Byron promised, “I will know. And I will kill you,” he promised roughly, a tiny drop of blood on his lower lip.

Then he turned to the third man. Because this one was already dead. He was the girl’s brother. She had gone to the police about her brother—she suspected he had something to do with another girl’s rape and murder. She’d been right—Byron saw that before he even touched the man’s mind. But she’d not been careful enough and her brother had found out.

This would have been her last night on this earth.

Byron smiled seductively, even pleasantly at the younger man, stroking his face as he listened and made sure the girl was far away. “A brave girl, your sister. She’ll prosper now. I’ll make certain. Ah, Max, isn’t it? Your sister is about to come into some money and she will find her way out of this hellhole, as you like to call it. I want you to know that, to know she will live a long and prosperous life.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Max tried to snarl. Not very effectively, since he was all but whimpering with fear.

The vampire flashed his fangs. Max tried to scream, but Byron pressed his thumb against his windpipe and cut off his air supply. Max was trying to tell his body to run, but Byron had already taken control of his mind and the human couldn’t move. “Why are you doing this?”

“Remember the girl you raped?” Byron murmured, pushing Max into the shadows, listening for any sign of another watching. “She was young, wasn’t she? Just a child, really. All that youth and innocence, and you destroyed it. What is that saying? Oh, yes. Payback is a bitch.” Byron took the memories that Max had been relishing and turned them back on him, only now, Max was in the girl’s position and he experienced the horror. Byron’s psychic skill wasn’t enough to make him actually suffer as much as the girl did, but he made sure the pathetic piece of scum had some inkling before he broke the link and grabbed him up from where he had fallen on the ground.

“Now do you know why?” Byron purred menacingly. “Do you know why I am going to kill you? You stalked and killed a child and would have done the same to your own blood.”

“You can’t just fucking kill me,” Max sobbed.

Byron laughed. “Yes, I can.” He wasn’t even going to feed here. He reached in with his mental hands, grabbed the man’s mind and crushed it, watching pitilessly as blood started to trickle and flood from the man’s eyes, ears and nose. He heard pounding footsteps and he knew company was coming.

He watched and waited until the last breath shuddered out, and then he let his mental grip go and the corpse fell at his feet.

Then he shifted and the mist drifted up and away as people started coming out to investigate the noise.

He was tired when he returned to the house, though it wasn’t even midnight. It had been an easy night as far as hunting goes. Sometimes, he was given an assignment, like the feral. Other nights, he just trolled, looking for scum like those he had found tonight.

Normally, on a night such as this he would have gone for more, but he was too fucking tired, and he knew it wasn’t the hunt.

It was Kit.

He could even smell her, the sweet, intoxicating scent of the soap he ordered for her directly from England. She went through bottles of it, then after she climbed from the bath, she would smooth oil onto her wet body, and her scent always lingered—

She was in his bed.

Naked.

It was not an odd thing for him to find a naked woman in his bed.

But a naked Kit, that was odd.

“Have a nice hunt?” she asked, her voice rough, soft, her eyes chilly.

“Kit—”

She pushed onto her knees and lifted a finger to her mouth. Then she trailed that finger down her body to trace over one nipple, then down her slim, golden torso before sliding through her naked folds.

“Damn it, Kit, don’t.” Byron stared at her hand, at the naked folds of her sex. She had waxed. The soft curls he had nuzzled the last time were gone, and the plump lips were naked and smooth. He could smell her over the distance that separated them, wet and hot, and still angry.

“Why not? You’re sending me away, that’s what you do with a woman, once you sleep with her. Eventually. Only I haven’t had that pleasure, so why not?” she asked, moving around again, this time to lie on her back, knees bent. “Won’t you give me just one night, Byron? Just one?”

His jaws ached and throbbed in time with his cock as he watched her start to stroke herself, her slim little fingers rubbing her wet, swollen clit until she was rocking her hips and moaning weakly in time with her movements. “I’m not sending you away,” he rasped, haltingly taking a step closer.

“Come and play, Byron,” she teased.

He moved closer, following the movement of her fingers, drawn by the scent of her body. Damn it, he loved her. He wanted her. He had for years, but this was Kit, Kris’s little girl, and he had promised to take care of her, not fuck her like she was some whore.

This was Kit. Not any other woman. She wasn’t for fucking.

“Come on,” she cajoled. Her lashes fluttered closed and she whimpered when he rested one knee on the bed and brushed her hand aside, replacing it with his, lowering his head to catch one large, dark nipple in his mouth. She had large breasts, especially for a woman as tiny as she was, with big, dark nipples that always seemed to be erect. He bit down carefully, and groaned when she cried out and pressed harder against him and he started to pump two fingers in and out of her wet sheath.

Damn it, he couldn’t fight this any more.

He sat up briefly, jerking his clothes off, before covering her and using his thighs to open hers. She brushed her hair aside, baring her neck, and Byron shuddered at the simplicity of the gesture as he licked her, sucking the fragile skin deep into his mouth. He started to enter her, probing the hot, wet entrance to her core, his body tensed and aching. She was tighter than he had expected. As he pushed the first two inches inside, her snug, silky little pussy convulsed around him and Byron groaned as she arched up, taking him slightly deeper.

Much tighter, but she was wet and creamy around him and her pulse beat madly against his mouth. Byron was so fucking hungry for her—for her sex and her blood. He drove deep, his fangs breaking through her skin just as his cock tunneled through her tight wet passage while she screamed in surprised pain at his rough invasion.

Kit, he reached out, touched her mind, felt her surprise—the pain, the shock, the need—as he drew one of her knees up over his hip, shuddering at the sweet, wet grip of her virgin pussy around his cock. Her blood rolled down his throat, ripe, powerful, rich. Kit, why didn’t you tell me?

“Why? So you could turn me down?” she asked bitterly.

I don’t think I could have, not any longer, he answered, a groan vibrating up from his chest. She felt the vibration of it through her neck as it shuddered down her chest, tightening her nipples, and pooling hot in her belly. He pulled his cock out, then surged back in, one big hand cupping the cheek of her ass lovingly. So sweet, Kit. So tight.

He pulled reluctantly away from her neck, licking away the drops of blood before leaning down, wanting to kiss her, but settling for rubbing his cheek to hers. He was surprised when she sought his mouth, surprised when the lingering taste of blood didn’t bother her. He started to pump his shaft inside her, loving the way she hugged his cock—tight, wet, snug, and only his. She rocked up to meet him, eagerly, hungrily, and he slammed into her harder, control forgotten. He moved and shifted her so that he could reach her clit and play with it while he fucked her. He felt her response when she cried out, the vibrations reaching down through her body and up through his cock, spreading over him, tightening his balls, heating his blood until he was certain his entire body would go up into sweet, hot flame.

Her bud was slick and swollen and hard. Byron shuddered as he pushed back inside her, keeping one hand on her thigh, holding it high, and open, watching as he drove in, almost hypnotized by the erotic sight of his own cock invading the wet little cleft. He couldn’t tear his gaze away as he pulled out—the flesh wet and gleaming from her cream—then pushed back between those plumps lips. The smooth flesh of her naked mound taunted him and he left her clit briefly to stroke the smooth lips, his gaze traveling her sweetly curved little body to meet her eyes as she moaned and reached for him.

Byron bent over her and caught her seeking hands, pinning them high over her head. “Are you mine tonight?” he asked her gutturally, driving deep inside the wet clasp of her pussy, feeling his orgasm rushing up. He had wanted her for too long and he couldn’t fight this. “Are you staying with me all night?”

“I’ve been yours for years, you idiot. I’ll be yours for always, if you’ll just open your eyes,” she hissed, her eyes blind and dazed as she lifted her head and tried to catch his mouth. He let her and shuddered as she sucked his tongue into her mouth greedily, biting down gently and wrapping her strong legs around his hips as he shafted her virgin body roughly. He kept her hands pinned with one of his and slid the other down, palming her tight little ass and lifting her higher against him, moving harder, more roughly into her as she started to convulse around him. The satin confines of her pussy tightened around him, growing wetter and hotter, until she started to come.

He swallowed her scream and pumped her full of his come, before he let his body fall briefly to rest on top of hers.

But only briefly.

Then he was carrying her into the bathroom, into the shower, where he started to soap her clean. He knelt in front of her, holding the hand-held nozzle, while the double wall-mounted sprays pounded them from both sides as he lifted her. Holding her weight in his hands easily, he admired the naked mound she had prepared for him. “Always teasing me, Kit,” he murmured as he nuzzled the sweet little mound. He slid his tongue through her folds and then he lifted his face and looked up at her, water beading on his lashes. “Open yourself up, baby,” he whispered.

He watched her swallow nervously and then her hands moved and she did it. Using both hands to spread the plump lips of her sex, she exposed the swollen bud of her clit. Byron turned the hot, massaging spray on her, grinning hotly as the sound of her wails echoed off the walls. He had dreamed of doing just this to her, for years.

Always teasing him, he had told her. She had loved to use his shower, even after he installed a similar one for her. He had walked into his bathroom once, thinking one of the human girls was in there. He had every intention of joining whoever he heard moaning so sweetly.

Kit had only just turned eighteen—he had known she had been experimenting, but how was he to know she had been masturbating in his fucking bathroom? She had been using the massaging showerhead on her clit and screamed in hoarse pleasure while Byron stood frozen, shocked, aroused, and hungry. She had opened her eyes, but instead of being embarrassed, the way an eighteen-year-old should have been, she had grinned at him, hot and sweet and inviting.

Now she started to rock against the pulse of the water, humming low in her throat, sobbing as the stimulation brought her to the edge hard and fast. Byron had lowered one of her small feet to the ground, still bracing her weight as he slid two fingers inside her, pumping deep as she keened and cried out. Each time she came a little closer, he backed off. And he started to work the natural lubrication of her body lower, pressing against the sweet pucker of her ass, wishing she wasn’t a fucking novice.

He was finally taking Kit, but he couldn’t take her the way he wanted.

Her eyes flew open at the alien caress but instead of pulling away, she pushed against him, and slid down on him, oh, fuck, taking his index finger completely up her snug little ass as she shuddered and screamed, flinching at the pain but riding it and rocking against the caress of the water.

Byron threw the shower nozzle away and leaned forward, catching her sensitized clit in his mouth. She screamed in startled, pained pleasure. Coming instantly, she rocked up and down, riding his mouth and riding the thick finger he had buried inside her ass. The shivers were still racking her when he stood, moving awkwardly to keep from dislodging her as he lifted her one-handed and drove inside, groaning as she continued to quake and shudder around him.

“Byron…” she sobbed, reaching up and tangling her hands in his wet hair, staring up into his face, her eyes hot and pleading.

He murmured softly, “Sweet little Kit, you feel so good. I’ve wanted this.” He punctuated it by driving deep, pounding into her, alternately with thrusts of his cock into her pussy and thrusts of his finger into her ass. “Will you let me fuck you here? You’re such a little thing, Kit. You’re so tiny, so tight.”

“Anything,” she gasped, hot little chills racking her body as he invaded her from both front and rear. His large body covered hers completely, possessed her completely. His thick, long cock left her then burrowed back inside and she wanted to cry at the pleasure of it. Then he worked his finger back inside her ass and the hot, painful little pleasure drove her mad. Her nipples ached and burned and throbbed, his water-slicked chest rubbing against them as he fucked her.

His dark blue eyes stared into hers, full of need and something that looked like tenderness. Kit was bewildered. She tried to think past the need that fogged her brain. How could he care for her and still send her away? He lifted her mouth and kissed her roughly, one of his fangs nipping her lip. He caught the lingering drop of blood hungrily and sucked it away before he muttered, “Stop thinking and feel. Feel this, feel me.” Driving inside, he held there, throbbing and still. Finally, he started to lift her, working her small, light body up and down his length. Reluctantly drawing his finger from her ass, Byron gripped her hips and stared into her stormy eyes.

He moved slowly at first, until she started to wriggle and squirm eagerly. Then he started to move her faster and faster until he pinned her against the wall and plundered her tight little pussy, filling her with hard, rough digs of his cock that had her screaming his name.

“I love you,” she wailed as she creamed around him.

Byron shuddered against her and groaned as he came, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Kit.”

Moments later, she struggled out of his arms, and away, moving out of the shower. He tried to hold her but she was nearly as strong as he and if this wet, angry woman didn’t want to be held, well, she wasn’t going to be held.

“If you love me, then why are you sending me away?” she demanded, shoving her wet hair out of her face.

Byron turned off the water and moved out of the stall, staring down at the tiny, defiant woman in front of him. “Kit, your father was my best friend. I swore to him that I would see that you were happy. You’ve never known anything outside of this. How can you know if this makes you happy if it is all you’ve ever known?” he asked wearily.

Kit pounded her fist against her chest. “I know how I feel, Byron. I look at you and I feel my heart. My other half. My soul mate.”

He cupped her face but she knocked his hand away. Sighing, he prayed for patience. “This is only for a while, Kit. To make sure you know this is what you want.”

Nastily she said, “So I guess I’m to go out and fuck as many men as I need, live however I see fit, experience life to make sure this is what suits me.”

Byron shoved down the insidious anger. She was trying to piss him off. He didn’t have to let her know it was working.

“It’s for a short while, Kit. And I’ve made up my mind,” he said firmly.

She smiled sweetly. “And I’ve made up mine,” she replied. She turned her back and started to walk away but Byron grabbed her and snarled, “You told me I could have tonight,” as he pushed his cock against her.

“Go fuck yourself,” she snapped, squirming.

“Why? You’re here, and you’re mine, and you’re what I want,” he said, reaching down and cupping her. She was wet from him still. He started to pump his fingers inside, laughing when she stiffened against him before helplessly starting to ride his hand. He pushed her down to her hands and knees and drove inside. Ignoring her furious cry, he focused instead on how she pushed back against him, and closed around his cock even though she wanted to walk away.

Byron focused on the sweet keening wails that fell from her lips as he hunkered low over her body and fucked her slowly, wetting his finger again and sliding it inside the snug fit of her ass. She rocked back against him and he laughed. “Still want me to go fuck myself?” he asked, slapping her ass.

She jumped and cried out, startled. He did it again, and she clamped down on his thick cock and came, quick and hard. She started pushing back on him hungrily, looking for another spank, another climax. “See?” he teased. “It’s more fun to fuck you.” He shoved her to the floor and wrapped her hair around his free hand, baring her neck before he struck. His fangs sank through the fragile skin, through the marks he had made earlier, and he fed again, groaning in rapture against her sweet skin.

She cried out and arched up, pushing her ass against him, and he gripped her hip, riding her hard until they both came.

They argued again.

They fucked again.

They showered again.

They ended up in her room, where Byron went through the sex toys she had bought and he had decided he would use them on her until she saw reason. Kit had already seen reason. And she wasn’t giving in to him just because he was a big, sexy vampire who was used to getting his way.

“For crying out loud, I’m not sending you away!” he shouted. “It’s just for a while. It doesn’t even have to be two years. A year. Okay? One fucking year. And if you’re still so fucking sure after it’s over, then so be it.”

She glared at him and said, “If you send me away, I won’t come back.” Point blank.

Byron froze. “Don’t say that.”

She lifted her chin and repeated herself. “I mean it. I’m sure the Council can find something for me. If I leave here, that’s it. I’m gone for good.”

He snarled at her and pinned her to the bed, taking her hands high over her head and tying them tight. Even an Inherent needed to be able to have leverage in order to take advantage of her strength, and he had just taken that away. He picked up one of the sex toys, the larger dildo she had bought out of curiosity but hadn’t used. Spreading her legs wide, he drove it halfway inside her without even preparing her, staring at her with cool, blank eyes. “Say it again,” he rasped. “Tell me you won’t come back to me.”

“I won’t—”

He pushed it harder inside and lowered his head to suck on her clit until she was screaming and hoarse from it. Then he stopped suckling her and started to fuck her with the big dildo, watching her with those cool, almost clinical eyes. “Are you coming back to me?”

“Not if you make me leave,” she gasped.

“Wrong answer,” he growled, his fangs flashing in his fury. He flipped her onto her hands and knees, spread the cheeks of her ass and licked her there, listening to her embarrassed little shriek. He used his legs to pin her in place while he picked up another toy, this one a slender wand-shaped dildo with a flared base that was designed for anal use.

He lubricated it and slid it inside her, listening to her hungry cries as she tried to muffle them in the bed. He steadily slid it in even when she tried to squirm away. “Stop moving—you’re making it worse, Kit,” he told her impassively. Once it was lodged inside her ass, he moved her onto her back and resumed fucking her with that ridiculously long dildo and flicking her clit with his tongue. And every few minutes, he said, “Tell me that you’ll come back.”

Finally, she sobbed out, “Damn it, I don’t want to leave! But your sending me away will kill me. If I leave, I am not coming back.”

He moved up on her, taking the toy out and driving his cock inside. She whimpered in pain, in pleasure, in need, taking him deep inside. “Say you’ll come back to me,” he ordered roughly.

She sobbed out his name and screamed as the climax rolled through her before he was even halfway inside her. Byron shuddered and worked his cock completely in, pulled out and burrowed back in. She wouldn’t truly stay away, not Kit, he thought as he rode her, her sweet wet pussy hugging him tightly as he slid back inside.

She belonged to him. She belonged here.

Then why are you sending her away?

Byron drove desperately into her, as the sunrise came ever closer. Kit’s bedroom was full of windows and he could sense the lightening in the sky outside. Her silky cleft was swollen from being ridden all night, but she still lifted for him, still clung to him eagerly. Byron buried his face in her neck and groaned as his climax raged over him, building at his spine and burning through his balls and his cock.