Dark Warrior Unleashed Page 10

  Kerry snapped, “That’s it! Don’t say another thing, Sandor, especially about Ranulf. I’m seriously weirded out by everything you’ve said, and I’m going to bed. Deal with it.” She stood up.

  Sandor’s temper snapped. “If you think the arsonist is scary, why do you think Ranulf is the one who has been ordered to take him out? That Viking bastard isn’t even close to civilized. He’s a weapon that our Dame only drags out to do jobs that none of the rest of us can stomach. He strips renegades of all their darkness. You cannot imagine how many he has killed in his lifetime.”

  She didn’t want to hear it. She wouldn’t believe it. The picture he’d painted of Ranulf simply didn’t jive with the man who’d held her so close in his arms and kissed her so sweetly. But right now, none of it mattered. If she didn’t crawl into bed in the next five minutes, she was going to explode.

  “Good night, Sandor. Crash on the couch if you want to, but don’t say another word to me right now.”

  Then she walked away, leaving one very angry man—or whatever he was—staring at her back.

  * * *

  Stubborn woman, why wouldn’t she listen to reason?

  Despite his best efforts, she wasn’t buying what he was selling, not by a long shot. It didn’t help to have the Viking looking over his shoulder. If Ranulf had stayed in the background as planned, Sandor wouldn’t have had to compete with the bastard for Kerry’s trust.

  For a smart woman, she had a streak of stupid when it came to the Viking. How could she not see him for the monster he was? She had even defended Ranulf!

  He’d have to tread carefully or risk alienating her completely. If only Dame Judith would order her pet killer to concentrate on his real job and leave Kerry to Sandor’s care.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, the Dame seemed to be pushing both Sandor and Ranulf right in Kerry’s path. Something about that bothered him. If Judith insisted that Ranulf help protect Kerry, she needed to order him to stay outside, where he belonged.

  The Dame probably thought Sandor was just being petty, but she only saw what she wanted to when it came to Ranulf. The two of them had known each other for centuries before Sandor had come along, which made it harder for her to see how Ranulf had changed over the years.

  All the dark energy Ranulf had consumed had to have had a negative effect on him. Renegades had all developed an addiction for the stuff, to the point where they killed for it. When Ranulf was sent to take them out, he executed them by stripping them of every scrap of ill-gotten energy. Over the years, he’d consumed far more negative human energy than any renegade ever thought about.

  How could he not be renegade himself? Maybe that was it: maybe Judith knew that if she didn’t provide him with a lawful source for his energy needs, he’d be out there killing with the worst of them.

  Sandor stopped at the front window and stared out at the early sunrise. It was long past time to get some rest. Maybe things would look brighter after some sleep.

  He retreated to the couch, but it took considerable effort for the night’s tensions to drain away enough so that he could sleep. He had a nasty suspicion that he’d need all the strength he could muster to deal with what the day would bring.

  Chapter 8

  Kerry Logan was home.

  Bradan smiled, pleased that his patience had finally paid off. He hoped she didn’t have plans for the coming weekend, because whatever she had in mind wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as what he had in store for the two of them.

  Right now he needed a new place to hide—one with a better view of her windows. He studied the road and saw a clump of trees that should hide him well. He walked down the sidewalk, then knelt down on the pretense of retying his shoes, looking to see that the coast was clear before easing into the shadows of the trees.

  He wasn’t there to abduct her yet, but if the perfect opportunity presented itself, he wouldn’t hesitate. The few instruments he was still waiting for should arrive in the next couple of days. How much fun it would be to keep Kerry caged in his special place and tell her that the party would begin as soon as the mail carrier delivered one more box.

  Besides, she could serve him in other ways before the real fun started. Had she ever slept with a Kyth? He rather liked the idea of being her first—and last. It was highly unlikely that she’d cooperate, so he’d have to chain her to the bed. That would limit the possibilities more than he’d like, but sacrifices had to be made. Especially by her. Oh, yeah, that idea worked for him.

  The sound of a powerful engine coming down the street made him move farther back beneath the heavy branches. But the spicy tang of cedar wasn’t the only scent there. No, he knew this particular scent far too well, and it made his blood boil.

  Ranulf had been under those very trees recently. There was no use in wondering how the bastard had found out about Kerry Logan. That interfering old witch, Dame Judith, must have had one of those spooky moments of intuition during which she’d seen a truth that no one else would have guessed based on the few facts she’d been able to gather from the newspaper.

  The only question was whether she and her Viking assassin also knew about him. It would be safer to assume that they did, but what had made them suspect a Kyth was involved? Probably the fact that he’d set the fire in the Dame’s home city—but he’d done that deliberately to show that the old bitch wasn’t infallible.

  The Kyth were stronger than the humans who surrounded them. Why shouldn’t the weak serve them? And more importantly, why should the Kyth make do with the benign human energy of everyday life when they could soar with the crisp, sharp taste of human pain and fear? Even in nature, predators ruled, not the prey they fed on. If Dame Judith was too old or too squeamish for reality, she deserved to die.

  Her death was item number five on his to-do list, right after destroying the heart and strength of her Talions: Ranulf Thorsen and that goody-goody Sandor. Their sense of honor alone made him want to hurl. Both would rather die than betray their people. Bradan smiled. Well, that could be arranged.

  The car he’d heard had slowed to a stop close by. He saw a glimpse of a big white fender and recognized it immediately. Ranulf was still driving that behemoth of a Packard. The car was a real beauty, and deserved a better owner. He’d have to add that to his list of things to do when he got back home.

  Bradan froze at the sound of the car door opening. It was unlikely that Ranulf would sense Bradan’s presence, but he was a cold-blooded killer. Eventually Bradan would have to fight the redheaded Talion; however, when that time came it would be on Bradan’s chosen turf and on his terms. Only one of them would live through the experience, and he wanted to make damn sure he was the one who walked away the victor.

  Once Ranulf was safely on the other side of the road, Bradan peeked out through the trees. Kerry opened her front door and greeted Ranulf like a long-lost friend, and Bradan grabbed onto a tree branch for support. The carnal heat shimmering between the woman and the Talion made his stomach roil and his hands ache with the need to kill.

  How dare his mate look at the barbarian in that way!

  Was she planning on spreading her legs for Ranulf? The thought made him ill. If that happened, Kerry’s short life would end without her ever knowing the pleasure he’d planned on sharing with her. Instead, she would watch Bradan carve her lover up into little bitty pieces. Then it would be Kerry’s turn.

  The apartment door opened and closed again. Was Ranulf leaving so soon? His mood vastly improved, Bradan checked to see how Ranulf was taking being thrown out so quickly. But it was Sandor stomping down the stairs, temper showing in each step. Judging from the look he shot back toward Kerry’s apartment, he wasn’t happy about Ranulf being alone with Kerry, either.

  For the moment he and Sandor were on the same side, so although Sandor had to die, Bradan would ease his passing.

  It was the least he could do.

  * * *

  Ranulf didn’t understand how it was possible, but Kerry’s apa
rtment shrank considerably the second Sandor walked out the door. With the other Talion glaring across the room, there had been plenty of space between him and Kerry. Now, even though she hadn’t moved since plopping into the overstuffed chair by the couch, Ranulf felt crowded. The air in the room had the same thin feel as it did high up on his mountainside, and with every breath, he breathed in the sweet scent that was unique to her.

  But it wasn’t the lack of oxygen that had him panting. No, it was that swishy red dress that clung to Kerry’s lithe form, outlining every curve in exquisite detail. From the moment she’d sashayed across the room after inviting him in, all the blood in his head had plummeted to pool painfully much lower down. He crossed his right leg to rest on top of his left to disguise his erection.

  If Dame Judith hadn’t called Sandor back to her house, Ranulf would have had to physically heave the other Talion out the front door.

  The strange thing was that Ranulf had half expected Kerry to refuse him entry because of Sandor’s little talk earlier. Instead, she’d greeted him with the same dark heat in her eyes as when they’d almost kissed the night before.

  Right now, he’d give anything to do a whole lot more than just kiss her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Neither of them could afford to get tangled up in something that couldn’t go any further than her bedroom. Once he’d eliminated Bradan Owen, he’d return to the peace of his mountain home, and Kerry would get on with her life as a Kyth.

  No doubt Dame Judith planned to introduce Kerry to a whole bunch of nice, eligible Kyth men. He pictured Kerry dancing with her own harem of men, and deep blue flashes of power flickered under the skin of his hands as he ached to teach the bastards a lesson about messing with Kerry. His eyes flashed hot and bright, burning with the urge to do battle.

  “Ranulf, what just happened?” Kerry was staring at his eyes and then his hands as if she’d just seen a ghost—or, more likely, a monster.

  Her reaction made him angry. “Figure it out for yourself. Or didn’t you listen to any of that explanation Sandor gave you last night?”

  His abrupt answer clearly startled her. “I listened, but I didn’t buy what he was selling.” She chewed at her lower lip as she stared at Ranulf’s hands, where energy sparked and flew from their tips. “Until now.”

  Great. So now she knew he was the bogeyman. Which hurt a surprising amount. “Look, I can guard you from outside as easily as I can from in here. Better, actually.” He was halfway to the door when Kerry caught up with him.

  She managed to get between him and the door. “Don’t go, Ranulf. Please.”

  He noticed that she made no move to touch him. “Look, we’ll both be happier if you don’t have me around,” he growled.

  “But dinner is almost ready.” She kept her dark eyes focused on his face, making him want to wave his fingers in front of her face.

  Denying the truth didn’t make him any less of the monster she feared him to be, but he shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, out of sight. If she was willing to ignore what she’d seen, he was willing to let her. “Are you sure you really want me at your table?”

  “Maybe not, but if it’s any comfort, I definitely didn’t want Sandor as a dinner companion.” She gave him a small smile with a twinkle in her eyes. “He’s a little too full of himself for my taste.”

  “Why? Did he give you the whole ‘you’re lucky to be one of us’ speech?”

  “We didn’t get to that part. And I’m not sure how much I’m willing to believe of what he did tell me.” In a surprise move, she looped her hand through Ranulf’s arm and led him back toward the kitchen. “Come sit at the table while I put the final touches on dinner.”

  This scenario wasn’t going down at all as he’d envisioned it. He’d expected to be back under those trees across the street and staring up at Kerry’s window from the outside. Instead, he was sitting at her kitchen table with a mug of hot coffee and an even hotter woman for company.

  How weird was that?

  * * *

  Kerry could feel Ranulf’s eyes following her every movement. It made her glad she’d given in to the impulse to wear a dress instead of her customary jeans and T-shirt. She was on the slender side, but the soft drape of this dress emphasized the positive and hid the negatives. A few weeks ago, she’d blown one whole paycheck on it. Judging by the way Ranulf was looking at her, it had been worth every dime.

  She took a small taste of her homemade marinara sauce, enjoying the rich bloom of the spices on her tongue. After adding a pinch more salt to the pot, she turned her attention to making the salad and preparing the garlic bread for the oven.

  “Hope you like Italian.”

  “I do. But I was really looking forward to that liver and creamed spinach you promised me.”

  He hid a smile behind his coffee cup, but she saw it in his eyes anyway. “It’s not too late. I could always freeze the sauce and make a quick run to the store for liver. And I think canned spinach has that same slimy texture we all love so much.”

  Ranulf actually chuckled. “That’s real tempting, but I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

  “Somehow, I think you’ve been trouble your whole life,” she teased, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  Kerry raised up on her toes to reach for her good dishes on the top shelf, but the plates were just out of her reach. Before she could grab her step stool, the warmth of Ranulf’s body surrounded her as he reached around her to lift the plates down.

  She froze as his scent and heat bathed her entire body with the sensation of a gentle massage, and she couldn’t help moaning at the pleasure. Arching back, she pressed against him, which strengthened the exchange of…energy? No, that was too weak a word. It felt more like heat lightning arcing back and forth between them. Was this what Sandor had wanted to explain? If so, she doubted she would have understood, because the words hadn’t been invented yet to describe this wondrous sensation.

  But as soon as she came into contact with Ranulf’s broad chest, he sucked in his breath and took a quick couple of steps away from her. She turned to face him, not knowing what to expect. Had she breached some Kyth rule of etiquette?

  Ranulf all but shoved the plates into her hands as he backed away to resume his seat at the table.

  She set the dishes down and eyed him narrowly. “So are you going to explain why every time we touch, I feel like I’ve just been hooked up to a battery charger?”

  “No, I’m not. That was Sandor’s job.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “But Sandor’s not here, is he? Besides, big guy, I want to hear it from you, not him.”

  Ranulf rose to his feet, clearly trying to use his height to intimidate her. But just because she was petite didn’t mean she was easily frightened. If she had been, those spooky eyes of his, which were flickering with what looked like blue flames, would have sent her running for cover earlier. Instead, she wanted to get lost in them.

  She stepped closer, glaring straight up into his angry blue eyes. “I’m waiting, Ranulf. And don’t think you scare me! Sandor tried to make me afraid of you, and I didn’t buy it. You would never hurt me, especially not with those,” she said, pointing at his fingertips. “Now tell me the truth. Who or what are you?”

  Ranulf’s face turned to stone. “Whatever he told you about me, the truth is a hundred times worse, Kerry.” He held up one hand as his fingers curled like claws and energy made their tips glow.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his hand. “I need the truth, Ranulf. Your truth, not Sandor’s.” She raised her free hand up and twined her fingers with his.

  Ranulf stared at their joined hands with pain-filled eyes. “I kill my own kind because someone has to, and because I’m damn good at it. I ought to be. I’ve had centuries to perfect the skill.”

  Kerry blinked, not believing his age. He continued on, the words pouring out as if he needed to share his truth with her even if she threw it all back in his face.

  “Whenever one of our people
goes on a rampage, I hunt the bastard down and bring him to Kyth justice. The word Talion means ‘punishment meted out in kind,’ ‘an eye for an eye.’ That defines the justice of our people. If a Kyth turns renegade and kills for energy, he dies the same way he lived. When I track the bastard down, I strip away every bit of energy he ripped away from innocent humans and then every scrap of his own life force. There is no middle ground.”

  There were still a lot of pieces missing in this puzzle, but Kerry’s heart knew Ranulf was speaking the truth, even if her head was having a hard time accepting his words. Maybe she should have been repulsed by what he was. At the very least, she should have ordered him out of her house and out of her life. But how could she stand and listen to the pain in his voice and not know how much he hurt? Maybe Sandor was right that their Dame had used Ranulf as a weapon for the good of their people, but at such a horrific cost to him.

  The price he’d paid for his service to his people was written there in his face, and in those broad shoulders built strong enough to bear a terrible burden for the good of others. Instead of seeing a monster, she saw a warrior who was weary of battle but still fought on because his sense of duty and honor would not allow him to do otherwise. Common sense told her that there was nothing she could do to ease his soul. She had her own life to live, and it didn’t include a man whose eyes burned with blue fire and skin flickered with darkness.

  She grabbed Ranulf by the collar to haul his angry mouth down to where she could kiss him.

  * * *

  Kerry’s kiss tasted of oregano, basil, and the sweet hot flavor of a woman’s passion. Ranulf wrapped his arms around her slender body, holding her closer but careful not to crush her. His last coherent thought as their lips touched was that Judith would have his head for this. But he’d happily pay the price to share these few seconds of heaven with Kerry in his arms.

  He lifted her high against his chest, teasing her lips apart with his tongue. He felt her mouth smile against his as she wrapped her legs around his waist and tangled her hands in his hair. Their tongues took turns advancing and retreating until he wasn’t sure where Kerry began and he left off.