Shadow Of The Vampire. Meagan Hatfield

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СКАЧАТЬ Before he had time to recover, another hit blew against his temple. A third slammed against his eyebrow. One for each hate, he figured.

      Throbbing pain began a low drumbeat in his skull. Declan gritted his teeth to keep from making a sound, determined not to give the bastard one ounce of satisfaction. He lifted his head to see Lotharus staring down at him. Slowly, he started undoing the buttons of his coat. Shrugging out of the garment, he laid it carefully over the side of the bed before stepping forward.

      “You know,” he said, rolling up the cuffs of his black shirt, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. “I don’t think I properly thanked you last night.”

      Declan forced his lips into a smile. “For what? Showing your girlfriend how to kiss?”

      An elbow slammed into his gut before the last word had fallen from his lips. Declan sucked in a breath, groaning when he repeated the action again.

      “You may think you’re funny now, but it will be I who is laughing last, Derkein. I assure you.”

      “Aw, come on,” he said with a pained grunt as he stood upright again. “I thought that was a good one.”

      A booted heel slammed into his ribs, sending him back over, and a fist cracked across his face, followed by another and another. Declan coughed, spitting out the stream of blood flooding his mouth onto the pristine white floor by his feet.

      As he watched the red flow between the tiles, a shadow darkened over him.

      “That was for drinking from what’s mine.” Lotharus’s knee kicked into his gut, once, twice. Usually, Declan could handle these simple hits. But the collar acted like some sort of muscle relaxer. He couldn’t tighten his abs and block the blows. Instead, each one sank deep into his body, crushing his lung and perhaps a rib or two in the process.

      As Declan fought against the bolts of agony wrenching his gut, Lotharus squatted in front of him. “And that is for trying to claim her,” he said before standing and walking away.

      Declan smiled through the pain. So that was what this was all about? The girl? His smile turned into a chuckle. The chuckle morphed into an outright laugh. The footfalls stopped. Lotharus held his hands twined at the base of his spine. His demeanor and poise looked calm, composed. However, his actions had already given him away. Something about Declan touching that girl made Lotharus livid, even more so than the notion that Declan had the crystal.

      “What do you find so amusing this time?”

      Declan laughed again, stretching the cut on his split lip. He ignored the twinge. “I don’t know what’s funnier. The fact that she came to me like a bee to honey, or the fact that you’re jealous.”

      With blinding speed, the vampire stood in front of Declan. “I can’t be jealous of what’s already mine,” he spat. “I think it’s you who is jealous. You fed from her once. I can only imagine the rush of power that flowed through you at the taste of her.”

      Declan’s smile fled. His fangs itched at the memory. Clamping down on his jaw, he fought the truth of the monster’s words.

      “She’s beautiful and ripe for the taking. I imagine you’d like to feel her beneath you again. Like to have those soft lips of hers on your skin. Be able to feel the amazing heat of her body swallow you, as I can—and, believe me, I do.”

      Lotharus’s words stabbed through him with irrational precision. Narrowing his eyes, he met the black ones staring down at him.

      “At least when I had her beneath me,” he said through clenched teeth, “I didn’t have to force her there.”

      A feminine gasp rent the air. Declan snapped his focus over Lotharus’s shoulder. His eyes immediately settled on Alexia. The pale blue, floor-length V-cut negligee and wrapper she wore set off the golden color of her hair. She looked ethereal, beautiful and shocked. And to see her standing beside that bed brought the dream vision back into glaring focus.

      “What did you say?” Lotharus’s growled words held the distinctive tone of a covetous male.

      Declan switched his gaze back to him. “You heard me, you sick fuck. Are you so pathetic you have to rape to get laid, or do you just get off on terrifying innocent females?”

      The anger in Lotharus’s stare multiplied. Shaking with rage, he lunged for the fireplace, grabbing a silver poker from the stand.

      Alexia rushed forward, taking his arm. “Lotharus, no—”

      Without missing a step, he turned, backhanding her. Instinctively, Declan’s entire body lunged to protect her. His muscles strained against the iron bindings. However, all thoughts of helping her fled when Lotharus swung back around, impaling the poker where he’d landed his fists moments before.

      The sharp burst of pain in his gut momentarily debilitated Declan. He couldn’t see, think or hear, but only focus on the blinding agony radiating through his midsection. Lotharus leaned forward, holding his face mere inches from Declan’s. “I will answer to no one. Especially not some flying rat.”

      Lotharus heaved back, dragging the poker’s jagged tip through Declan’s flesh. He doubled over, hearing the silver rod rattle on the floor, discarded.

      Blinking, he looked up. Lotharus brushed his palms together as if he’d done little more than squash a bug. “Get this thing out of my sight. He’s bleeding all over my floor.”

      The soldiers quickly unhooked him and Declan fell limp in their arms. His eyes drifted to the corner of the room, searching for Alexia. He couldn’t make her out. His vision gone foggy, he shut his eyes, not opening them until they had unceremoniously tossed him on the ground, shackled his wrist to the wall and shut the dungeon door.

      Declan wrapped an arm around his middle and curled into a ball on his side. Clenching his teeth against the pain, he focused on breathing, on Tallon, on images of home. He knew coming here was a dead end, an e-ticket to hell. As the pain lashed and bit, threatening to choke him, Declan told himself that he would take this suffering and any more the horde could dish out to save his flock.

      Just like his parents had.

      He stared at the filthy walls of the dungeon with newfound wonder in his eyes, feeling them mist. The idea both his parents might have lain in this very spot—may have felt unbearable agony and loss and yet faced it as it was—brought comfort to Declan and he finally fell into the sleep his body so desperately needed.

      THE QUEEN CLOSED THE MAIN doors leading to her hall. Ascending the few steps into the garden, she walked with purpose toward her chamber, her sanctuary. The only one left, she thought. Even the once safe haven of her mind was now lost to her.

      Low-hanging leaves brushed against her face and arms as she wound her way through the foliage. When she came upon the statue of Diana, a cold fear seized her heart, tightening around it like a noose. Keeping her head down, unable to make contact with the Goddess’s judging stare, Catija skirted around the fountain and hurried down the path leading to her bedchamber.

      The moment the lock on her bedroom door clicked, Catija let out the deep breath she’d been holding. The frantic tempo of her heart slowed to a more manageable beat and the invisible fingers around her neck loosened. Rounding the massive bed commanding the center of the room, she headed toward the far wall at almost a run. An antique polished oak and mahogany trunk sat alongside the СКАЧАТЬ