Serpent's Kiss [03] Elder Races by Thea Harrison

Author:Thea Harrison [Thea Harrison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fantasy, Vampires
ISBN: 9780425244401
Publisher: Berkley Sensation
Published: 2011-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

He stood, hands on his hips and watched the Vampyre dive into the ocean. She did not resurface. After several minutes of waiting to make sure, he scooped up the dog, tucked him in the crook of his elbow and went in search of Carling. He met her on the path to the forest.

Carling studied Rune curiously as she walked toward him. She was growing almost used to the mélange of unfamiliar emotions that started rioting the moment she laid eyes on him. He was shirtless, dressed only in jeans, boots and the bright silver cascade of moonlight, and his powerful body moved with liquid feline grace. His chest was heavy with the muscles of a swordsman, a light sprinkling of hair arrowing down the long taut abdomen.

She had no racing pulse for him to detect, and she put her hands behind her back to hide how much they started to shake as he grew close. Then she caught the rich iron scent of blood, his blood, and she noticed Rasputin’s small form in his arms and suddenly she was running toward them.

As she reached him, he said in a calm voice, “Don’t worry. Everything’s all right.”

She touched Rasputin and scanned both dog and collar magically even as she searched Rune with her gaze. The dog was fine, the collar working as it should. She tried not to be affected by the play of shadows along Rune’s bare torso but found it to be impossible. He had no softness anywhere, not even an ounce of extra padding that civilization gave to so many creatures. He was all ridges and hollows, and the thick flex of hard-used muscle underneath the flow of skin. Even though he was standing relaxed beside her, his breathing slow and unhurried, the force of his presence punched the air.

Then she found the marks. The long scores ran the length of his forearm. They were faint in the moonlight and fading fast. She touched them and ran her fingertips lightly along his skin. They were claw marks, made by a hand very similar in size to hers.

Rage locked up her body. She said, “Rhoswen did this.”

“It’s nothing,” he said.

“This is not ‘nothing,’ ” she murmured. The wounds had gone deep, maybe to the bone. The heavy scent of blood lingered in the air. The scent was as intoxicating as she had imagined his blood would taste. She saw that he had bled on his jeans. “Did she taste you?”

A long-fingered hand came under her chin. He eased her face up. His head was bent over hers, his expression mild, the lean features peaceful, those lion’s eyes clear. “You’re smoking around the edges, darling,” he said gently. She was, too. He could sense in his mind’s eye the fury spreading through her aura.

“Did she taste you?”

He went immobile, staring, his expression arrested. Then his beautiful carved mouth lifted at the corners, just a little. He said, “She tasted the blood on her fingers.”

Carling’s long dark eyes flashed ruby red in the light of the silver moon.

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