She clenched her teeth as they bounced through potholes large enough to swallow the tiny car.
“What is it?”
“Fairies.”
She shivered, shifting to peer out the back window. “Are they following us?”
“No, they’re watching from the woods,” he muttered, pulling onto a narrow path instead of the main road. “At least for now.”
They jolted down the pathway at a speed that threatened to rattle the car into scrap metal, but Sally didn’t complain. She was as anxious as Roke to reach the protection of the vampire lair.
Roke took two more turns, each one taking them farther from civilization. Just as Sally was about to accuse Roke of refusing to admit he was lost, they came around a corner to halt in front of a large log cabin nearly hidden in the trees.
“Wait here,” Roke murmured, sliding out of the car and disappearing among the shadows.
It took him less than five minutes to make a complete sweep of the area before he was returning to the car and leading her into the house.
Keeping a watch on the nearby trees, Sally hardly noticed the wide terrace or the heavy steel door that swung open after Roke had punched in a series of numbers.
It wasn’t until she’d stepped over the threshold that she took stock of the actual house.
Her eyes widened as she took in the large great-room that was paneled in a dark, glossy wood. The floors were made of flagstone, matching the fireplace that towered toward the twelve-foot ceiling. Heavy leather sofas and chairs were arranged throughout the long room with a chandelier made from some sort of antlers spilling a soft glow over the entire space.
And peering down from the walls were a half dozen stuffed animal heads mounted on wood placards.
Yeesh.
It looked like a hunting lodge for one of the Rich and Famous, not a supersecret vampire lair.
“This is a safe house?” she demanded.
He shut and locked the door. “Most vampires enjoy their comforts, although there are a few who still prefer isolated caves and a ban on all technology.”
She turned her attention to watch as he moved through the room, touching a keypad on the far wall that turned on the monitors that were obviously connected to the security system.
Although he was dressed in modern jeans and a heavy motorcycle jacket, there was something raw and untamed about his dark beauty.
It was etched into the stark features that were framed by the silken ebony of his hair and the feral grace of his movements.
And those astonishing eyes . . .
He was a hunter who would never be entirely civilized.
“Including you?”
He sent her an exasperated glance. “Why do I sense you’re convinced I live in a teepee in the middle of the desert?”
She frowned. Was he offended? Impossible. His skin was as thick as a rhino’s.
“You don’t seem the type to feel comfortable being surrounded by . . .” She waved a hand around the large room. “This.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’ll admit I prefer less wood. And I try to avoid dead animals staring at me from the walls.”
“No shit.” She glanced toward a moose that was eyeballing her with what felt like accusation. “They’re freaking me out.”
Roke moved to stand directly in front of her, gently adjusting the neckline of her sweatshirt before smoothing her hair behind her ear, as if he desperately needed the small, unnecessary touches.
“There are bedrooms upstairs,” he said, his expression carefully guarded even as his fingers traced the shell of her ear. “I know you’re probably not tired right now, but Alexei promised the rooms were fully equipped with TVs and attached bathrooms. There’s also a kitchen that’s kept stocked with human food.”
Sally shivered, nearly overwhelmed by the urge to press herself against his hard body.
Dammit.
She’d done so well keeping her intense need for him locked behind a frosty wall of offended anger. She’d allowed him into her bed once and what had it gotten her?
A door slammed in her face, that’s what.
But trying to nurse that sense of injustice was suddenly an impossible task.
Not only because he’d given her a glimpse of the lonely man who’d tortured himself for years, perhaps centuries, over the death of his sire. But because she wanted him.
That simple.
She wanted to shove her fingers into the satin darkness of his hair. She wanted to strip off his clothes and kiss a path over his hard, perfectly chiseled body. She wanted to wrap her lips around his hard cock before he was shoving her flat on her back and plunging so deep into her that she cried out his name.
Abruptly realizing he was studying her with eyes that had gone smoky with an answering need, Sally took a step back and tried to pretend that she wasn’t aching to feel those extended fangs plunged into her neck.
“What about you?”
His hungry gaze skimmed over her face before lowering to the exposed column of her neck.
“The sunproof rooms are in the basement.”
“No, I meant—” Heat filled her cheeks.
“What?”
She licked her lips. “Dinner.”
Her hair was tugged by a burst of chilled air as Roke struggled to contain his fierce need to pounce.
“There will be blood kept in the lower rooms.”
Her gaze dropped beneath the scorching need that smoldered in his gaze.
This was insanity.
Just because Roke had allowed her to see past his grim exterior didn’t change anything.
How could it?
They were still bound together by magic she didn’t understand.
They were still on the run from a crazy-ass demon and fairies who may or may not want her dead.
And he was still a chief who had pledged his loyalty to a clan who would never, ever accept her as his mate.
“Of course,” she muttered.
His finger slid beneath her chin to tilt her face up to meet his suddenly worried gaze.
“Sally, what’s wrong?”
Wrong? She bit back a hysterical laugh.
What was wrong was that she was being burned alive by a craving that threatened to overwhelm her.
“Nothing.” She wiped her damp palms on her jeans, well aware her arousal was scenting the air. “I think I’ll check out the kitchen.”
His gaze settled on the unsteady curve of her lips. “Hungry already?”
“No, but I want to see if there are enough ingredients to brew a few protective spells.”
He frowned. “The spells—”
“Nothing dangerous,” she said. “I swear.”
He paused, searching her wary expression as if hoping to find . . .
She wasn’t entirely certain what he was looking for, but he obviously failed to find it as he dropped his hand and stepped back.
“Don’t try to leave the house.” He nodded toward the monitors displaying images of the thick trees that circled the house. “The security alarms are set.”
Stupidly she found herself disappointed at his easy retreat.
What did she want?
For him to ignore her don’t-touch-me vibes? To force her to overcome her logic and ease her gnawing frustration?
Christ. She was a mess.
It was a wonder the poor man hadn’t dumped her along the side of the road for his own sanity.
She hunched a shoulder. “I’m not going to take off.”
“Good. For better or worse, we’re in this together.”
“For now.”
His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “I’ll be downstairs.” He reached beneath his jacket to pull out the music box. “Do you want me to lock this in a safe?”
She reached to take it, feeling the magic wrap around her with a sense of pleasure.
Perhaps she should be worried by her growing delight in the surge of rich, potent power that raced through her as she traced one of the mysterious hieroglyphs, but it felt so utterly natural it was difficult to imagine it was dangerous.