Bound by Night(103)

He waited for the remorse over Terese’s life and death to descend like a wet shroud. Nothing. For some reason, the absence of the guilt bothered him. He’d been so filled by it for so long that he felt almost . . . bereft. As if the guilt had been a limb. A cancerous limb, maybe, but something that was useful nonetheless.#p#分页标题#e#
It had kept him primed for revenge. It had ensured he kept his mind focused and his fighting skills sharp, because the only thing he had to live for was making things right for Terese.
“Normal?” Nicole nuzzled the curve between his neck and shoulder. “Wow.”
Well, not completely normal, at least, not for him.
Sex with Nicole the first time had easily been the most amazing sex he’d ever had. But this . . . this blew the last encounter away. “Welcome to the new world.”
Lazily, as if she was ready for a nap, she pushed back to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “It won’t happen again. When I get back to MoonBound, I’ll arrange for a moon partner.”
So much for the warm fuzzy feeling. “Like hell you will.”
“We’re not doing this again, are we?” She sighed.
“I can’t be with you like this.”
“This,” he growled, “was pretty damned great.”
“And it would be great in your chambers. In your bed. Right?”
He hesitated, once again waiting for the insane guilt to take him in its jaws and shred him to pieces.
The brief delay cost him.
“That’s what I thought,” she said coldly. “You should probably know that I stayed in your chambers during my transformation. With Myne. In your bed.”
A white-hot poker of fury impaled him from the top of his head to the base of his spine. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because the world didn’t end, Riker. Terese’s ghost didn’t come slay either one of us.” She put her hand directly over his heart. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I’m not sure I would have made it through the turn if I hadn’t been surrounded by your scent. When I was hurting and delirious, I thought you were there with me, and I fought to stay.”
She locked her gaze with his. “So yes, I love you, but I’ve lived my entire life connected to a company that didn’t want or need me. I won’t do that again. We’ll always be connected because you turned me. But what you and I want are two different things.”
The anger drained abruptly, leaving in its place a feeling of dread and a strange burn near his hip bone.
“Nicole, I want you.”
“You want parts of me. You want what’s in my veins and between my legs,” she said, and he kicked himself for making her believe that. “I’m not judging you, and
believe me, it’s tempting to settle for what you’re willing to give. But I’m worth more than that. I’ve thrown off the Daedalus shackles, but if you can’t do the same with Terese, if you can’t look at me without seeing a
Martin who destroyed your life, we have nowhere to go but our separate ways.” Standing, she shoved her feet into her jeans, and he was helpless to stop her. “I’d better go. The females I dosed will be starting to come into the supply-closet-slash-lab for some tests. You’re going to be taken to Hunter now.”
“I’m not leaving. Not until you do. We need to talk, Nicole.” The burn at his hip intensified, and he shifted to get comfortable.
“We just did, and we’ve been through this,” she said, sounding tired. “I need you to go. If I’m worried about you, I can’t work.” Reaching up, she pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave off a headache. “Please.”
As much as he hated the idea of leaving her here alone, he didn’t want to jeopardize her work or her chances of getting out of here as soon as possible.
“I’ll leave the compound,” he agreed. “But I won’t go far.”
“I’d rather you went back to MoonBound.”
“I don’t know what gave you the impression that you have any say it,” he said, throwing her words from earlier back at her.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Touché.” Pivoting, she headed toward the door.
A stabbing sensation joined the burn, and seriously, what the fuck? He glanced down, sure someone had jammed a red-hot needle into his lower abdomen.
But no, there was some sort of reddish marking. He craned his neck a little more, and . . . oh, damn. A feather had been carved into his skin. The Mark
of the Crow. Or the Mark of the Raven, if the individual
subscribed to that particular canon. Riker had never truly believed in the vampire superstitions, legends, and hokum so many of his kind—especially the oldest and born vampires—subscribed to, but now that he was experiencing this, he might have to reconsider his stance.