Night Play(25)

Nicolette stepped back from him. "Very well. That's something that's completely up to you, but if you change your mind—"

"I won't."

"Fine. Why don't you take the next few weeks and stay with your mate while she is marked? We'll take care of Fang in the meantime."

Did he dare trust that offer?

"Are you sure?"

"Oui, cher. You can trust some animals, even bears. I promise you, your brother is safe here, but your mate, she's not safe alone while she carries your scent on her."

Nicolette was right. If, as he suspected, his pack was looking for them, their scouts might find his scent around Bride. She would carry it as long as she bore his mark, and a trained Were-Hunter would be able to sniff her out.

There was no telling what his enemies might do to her.

"Thank you, Nicolette. I owe you."

"I know. Now go and be with your human while you can."

Vane nodded, then flashed back to Bride's side.

She was still asleep on her couch. Lying on her back, she looked extremely uncomfortable. Her legs were bunched up and she had one arm over her head while the other dangled off into nothingness.

Tenderness flooded him as he remembered the way she had looked as she came for him. The sight of her face in the mirror as he held her.

She was a passionate woman. One he ached to taste again and again. Against his common sense, he reached out and touched her soft cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped.

Bride sat up with a hiss as she thought she saw Vane standing over her.

"Vane?"

The wolf padded around the couch to sit beside her.

Confused, she looked around, then gave a nervous laugh. "Boy, am I hallucinating or what? Oh yeah. Looney Tunes, here I come."

Shaking her head, she lay back down and tried to go back to sleep, but as she did, she could swear she smelled Vane's scent on her skin.

For two days, Vane stayed in wolf form as he watched over Bride, but with every minute of it, he felt as if he were being brutally tortured. His natural instinct was to claim her.

If she were a she-wolf, he would be inside her even now, showing her his prowess and authority.

The beast inside him demanded the courtship. The human in him…

It scared him most of all. Neither part was listening to his cool, calm rationale. Not that he really had any of that where she was concerned. Around her, he had a raging hormonal surge so profound it made a tsunami look like a toddler's wave pool.

His need to touch her was becoming so ferocious that he was even afraid to be with her now.

A few minutes ago, in wolf form, he'd run out the door to try and get a grip on himself before he returned to her shop for more torment. Every time she moved, it made his blood heat. The sound of her voice, the lick she gave her long, graceful fingers as she flipped through the pages of her magazines, it was all torture for him.

It was killing him.

You wish.

Really, he was beginning to. Death had to be preferable to this. Where were the assassin wolves when he needed them? Yeah, pain. That was the answer. Nothing like severe pain to curb his sexual appetites.

Think of something else.

Vane had to get his mind off Bride and her body. More importantly, off what he wanted to do to and with her body.

Determined to try, he stopped in front of a small store on Royal Street. It was a doll shop, of all things. He didn't really know why he was here except one of the dolls in the window reminded him of the one Bride had in a box by her TV.

"Well, don't just stand outside, young man, come on in."

A tiny old woman stood in the doorway. Her hair was gray, but her eyes were sharp and intelligent.

"It's okay, I was just looking," Vane said.

And then he caught a scent of something strange. A fissure of power in the air that was even stronger than that of a Were-Hunter.

Acheron?

The old woman smiled at him. "Come inside, wolf. There's someone I think you want to talk to."

She held the door open as he entered the small, dark shop, lined with shelves and cases of custom-made dolls. Without a word, she led him behind the counter and through a set of heavy burgundy curtains.

Vane drew up short as he saw the strangest sight of his entire four hundred years of life.

The mighty Dark-Hunter Acheron Parthenopaeus sat on the floor of the back room with his legs crossed as he played dolls with his demon companion and a human infant.

Vane couldn't move as he watched the infant girl sitting on Ash's bent, leather-clad knee while the Dark-Hunter held her there with one large hand on her belly. Dressed in a frilly pink pinafore and black Mary Janes, she was beautiful, with short, dark auburn curls and a plump, angelic face.

Ash held a male doll in his right hand while the little girl chewed on the head of a red-haired Barbie that looked strangely like the Greek goddess Artemis, who had created and ruled the Dark-Hunters. The demon sat in front of them holding a blond doll. The demon herself had black hair with a red stripe in it that matched Ash's hair perfectly.