Dawn's Darkest Hour

"Splendid." Bianca peeled back the plastic and lowered her nose to the fabric. She didn't have to inhale deeply or think about whose scent was on the cloak. She'd recognize that bitch's sweet stench a mile away. Yessette. Good thing Michael was such an honest type. Otherwise, she might not know to lie about what she smelled. She forced a blank look across her features and resealed the bag. "No, I can't say as I recognize the scent."

Michael took the bag from her polished fingertips and gripped it in his fist. "May I pass this amongst your Guardians? Someone else might be able to identify the cloak's owner."

Bianca shrugged, "Sure." None of her men knew Yessette. The woman was a dirty little secret Eric kept tucked deep into the back of his closet. She slid a thigh over Michael's leg, straddling him. "Now about that favor. I've heard the Sons always live up to their promises."

Michael pressed his back into the chair. "I've never failed a lady before."

"Excellent." Her mouth descended on Michael's. One little kiss, was that so much to ask in exchange for her time? The warrior stiffened beneath her. The leathers between her thighs groaned from the strain of his muscles tightening and releasing in surrender to her lips. Hands that had gripped the arms of the chair roamed over her body. His fingers clutched the fabric of her skirt, searching for the hem of her dress and the soft flesh beneath. His lips were as skilled and highly disciplined as the rest of his body. His mouth was firm, and unyielding, commanding, leading in the dance with steps as ancient as time itself.

Alarm bells clamored in warning in the empty space where Michael's common sense used to rule. Bianca's body was like a soft silken sheet wrapped around him. Some favor she'd wanted from him. He wondered what he could do for her. She was certainly doing plenty for him. Her mouth yielded to his lips and her tongue to his stroking advances. As if the kiss were custom made for him instead of the byproduct of centuries of experience.

He'd never done anything to risk his position in the Sons. He hadn't wanted the entanglement of a relationship or a wife to get in the way of his life's commission. The vow he'd given to the Great Father paled in comparison to the one he'd willingly taken upon himself. There were steps he could take and those he could not. Some of the brothers were mated. He didn't know how they split their loyalties between their wives and duty and managed to remain sane. He hadn't wanted to live so conflicted a life.

Michael did not believe in doing anything halfway. He was an all or nothing kind of male. He would not love without the bond of marriage. He could not give to a wife what he did not possess. His heart and his very soul belonged to the brotherhood. Therefore, the vow of celibacy he'd taken was a natural extension to his vows to the brothers. After all, his thought process was solid. Or so he thought. He couldn't miss what he'd never had. He realized with her in his arms, what a living hell the decades of celibacy had been for him and how easily he could end his long dry spell.

Suffering the worst temptation he'd ever endured brought doubt to his mind. He'd assumed no woman was strong enough, worth enough to break his most solemn vow. The brothers teased him mercilessly from time to time. Swearing as fervently as they cajoled him that he didn't know how good he had it. Women were trouble and maybe, that was so. But, he'd never really found one that tempted him the way Bianca did before. If or when, and the thought was there, he broke his vow, it be with his one true soul mate. He'd give her his body, his heart, and his blood and she'd give hers to him in return. There'd be no doubts or reservations between them. Just love and commitment, the feeling of utter bliss that came with knowing he'd found his other half at long last. Bianca wasn't that woman. He tore his mouth from hers and forced his fingers to grip the arms of the chair instead of her lush flesh. "Bianca."

Bianca could take a hint. He'd delivered on his promise, as agreed. But, she was damned disappointed. Disappointed that the kiss hadn't blossomed into a romp between her silk sheets. She kept their pelvis locked together, more to tease than to seduce. Let him know exactly what he was passing up on. "Let me guess. You're celibate."

Michael reached up and cupped her cheek, tracing the left over moisture from their kiss on her lips with the pad of his thumb. "Celibate, but not dead. You're an incredibly beautiful woman, Bianca. I'd be honored to share your bed, if I could."

Bianca quickly regained her composure. He was passing her up. Not because of another woman. But, because of a promise, some silly vow that he held more dear to his heart than the promise of her body. She worshiped only what she could see, touch, taste, hear, and smell. Reality was her god and he was more powerful than the fantasy this warrior clung so desperately to. "Pity you can't."

She mustered what dignity she had left and slid off his lap. Pretending to brush the wrinkles out of her dress as if she'd been the one to end the kiss. Michael had turned her down. The truth stung. Rejection bit at the edges of her battered ego. She wasn't good enough. He preferred some imaginary goddess and a cause he had no hope of championing to bedding her. Her cheeks burned red with humiliation. "You should go." She turned her face away from him before he saw the tears of hurt in her eyes.

Michael stood and towered over Bianca's crumpled shoulders. She was hurt. He hadn't meant to cause her any pain. He enjoyed flirting with her. Reveled in the fit of their bodies against one another and broiled in the heat of her stolen kiss. Wrapping his arms around her would only compound the damage he'd done to her ego. Apologizing wouldn't soften the blow, but would deepen the cut. Silently, he picked up the bag and left. If she only knew how close he'd come to ripping that dress off her body and searching out her pleasure spots with his tongue. If she only knew how very long he'd been waiting, holding out, for the right woman to come along. She'd understand how very difficult, leaving her was for him.

Chapter 101

Daniel paced around the room. The walls, now devoid of their fancy wallpaper were closing in on him. In a fit of boredom he'd finished what his wolf had started and stripped the walls down to the plaster. Empty off white plaster walls gauged with the deep scars from his wolf's claws closed around him. To entertain himself and take his mind off his current predicament, he crumpled the sheets of wallpaper and dampened them, wadding them into balls and positioned them on top of one another in an attempt to build the world's first ever wallpaper snowman.

A key rustled in the lock as he finished his creation. Maybe, when he saw what became of the walls, Eric would be pissed off enough to kill him. If the wallpaper wasn't enough to do the trick, the fancy silk curtains were next on Daniel's list. Escape was escape, no matter how it came about. Dying was just another means to an end.

He was disappointed. No disappointed wasn't the right word. There were so many others that more accurately described what he felt for the woman inching her way through the open door. "Do you like it?" he asked, pointing to his creation.

Yessette stifled a giggle. Eric was going to be furious when he saw what became of his walls. She set a tray loaded with all sorts of human goodies on the bedside table and leaned over to inspect Daniel's creativity. "You are going to be in so much trouble when Eric finds out." She stretched out on the floor beside him and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. "You know, this is hardly the way to prove you want to be friends with him."

"Locking me up is hardly a way to prove he wants to be friends with me," Daniel countered. Stretched out on the floor wearing that little silk number she was wearing and her dainty feet strapped into stiletto heels. Friendship or Eric in general was the last thing on Daniel's mind. Especially, when she rolled over on her stomach and the dress, or what was technically a dress in name only, slid up to reveal the round hump of her butt and the thong she wore beneath. Her hair fanned out in a golden curtain across the open back of the chemise.

"Eric is just being overly cautious. Once he learns that he can trust you. You'll never find a better or more generous friend." Yessette rose up on her knees and leaned over to Daniel to show off her pendant. "Look what he gave me today as a present."

"Um..." Daniel whistled low in appreciation. Not for the bauble she so proudly displayed, but for the deep valley the pendant adorned. He bit his bottom lip. Should he tell her what Eric offered him in exchange for his friendship? Create a bit of a rift amongst the ranks? Maybe, just maybe if she knew, she'd help him escape. Damn, he hated the moral implications of where his thoughts took him. Using her like that made him no better than Eric. But, then again, this was war and he had to use anything he could if he wanted to win. "He wants to give me something better than that."

"What?" Yessette asked, leaning back on her haunches. Daniel certainly had her curiosity. What could possibly be better than jewelry? What did Daniel hold in such high regard? What was his price?

"You." Daniel crawled across the tattered carpet and stopped in front of her. He rested his weight on his knees and crouched to look in her eyes. Hoping to see hurt and betrayal reflected in their azure depths. Gingerly, he swept her hair behind her shoulders and ran his fingertips along the delicate ridge of her collarbone.

"Do you want me?" Yessette knew how important winning Daniel over was to Eric. That he trusted her to help filled her with pride. She trapped Daniel's fingers between hers and guided them to the strap of her silk shift. Slowly, she fed his fingertips through the narrow gap between her strap and her skin, and guided them down, sliding the gown off her shoulder.

"So bad it hurts," Daniel rasped. Her skin was soft and warm, like liquid silk beneath the rough, work worn callous of his fingertips. His heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he thought his eardrums would burst from the constant, wild, thump-thump. Awkwardly, his palm smoothed the gown away to reveal the pert rise of her breast. A sweet, berry, nipple hardened beneath the brush of his fingers. She felt so good, to hands that had never felt such luxury and the sound of her sigh of pleasure, a symphony to ears that had never heard music before.

The tips of her fangs tickled the tip of her tongue. He was clumsy, trying too hard to be careful with her. Grappling with his conscience for control of his body. She had to make sure he lost the fight and gave in to his body's hungry demands. Slowly, she lowered herself back onto the tattered carpet and opened her thighs to create a cradle for Daniel's hips. His eyes roamed over her exposed breast like a starving man who had never seen food before. She lifted a hand and wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck, easing his eager mouth down to the soft point.

Daniel trembled. Every muscle and nerve ending in his body burned with fire. A beautiful, although dead, woman was offering herself to him. She was his for the taking. Instinct battled with his mind for control. Her grip on the back of his neck was stronger than he at first imagined. Inexorably, unable to stop his descent, he fell into the bounty of her naked flesh. The berry tip of her breast was hard against his lips. Sweeter than any candy he'd ever tasted. He latched on and savored the heavenly taste of her with his tongue.

Yessette wiggled her other shoulder free from the gown. The crimson scrap of silk was a cherished treasure from eighteenth century China and she didn't want it spoiled by Daniel's clawing as he attempted to free her flesh from the gown. His breaths were a series of passion inflamed pants. His mouth was as hot as a branding iron against the naked points of her breasts. She reveled in the knowledge that she would be his first. Moisture dampened her panties as he continued his exploration of her with his tongue.

A breath escaped Daniel's lips as he was flung onto his back. My god, Yessette was stronger than the frail flower she appeared to be. Lean thighs straddled his hips and her core settled searing hot over his erection. Her dainty hands tore at the fabric separating them. Her scrap of a gown had already been abandoned and lay in a heap in the corner. She ripped through his sweats as if they were made of paper. If he'd ever entertained the thought that she wasn't dangerous before, he'd be definitely rethinking it now.

His erection stood tall and proud, probing against the wet, sleek, softness of her core. One shift of his hips and he'd be buried deep inside the Promised Land. He stared up at her, a captive man, enslaved by the promise of her body. The pendant dangled freely between her breasts. Gripping her hips with his palms, he stilled her. Despite the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born and horny as any other healthy hot- blooded male, he had to know. One question deserved an answer before he merged their bodies as one. "Why, are you doing this?"

Yessette stared down at the Daniel beneath her. Sweat dampened the ends of his ebony-dark hair. His skin glowed, dewy and healthy. Glistening with the efforts of his control. Lips bruised red from tasting her skin pursed into a frown. He was beautiful. His eyes glimmered like round obsidian stones lit with an inner fire. She brushed her core against his erection, hard and thick, dampened with a bead of moisture. He dug his fingers into her hips and sucked a breath through his teeth. "Because I want to. None of the presents Eric has ever given me can compete with the way you look at me. If I am to be your gift from him, then let me be. But know this, you give me more by the gift of your dark stare than he ever could."

Yessette gently pried his hands free from her hips and pressed them to her lips. She moved to position her body over his length and slowly lowered her core onto him. Her reward was his gasp of pleasure and the wild abandon of his pelvis pounding into her, lifting her slightly off the ground. Fusing them together as one. He grasped her closely and lifted her onto his lap. Continuing his madly pistoning gyrations. His length filled her completely. The heat of his body warmed her darkest places. Soon, she felt something she hadn't expected. She began to ascend to heights along with him. "Let me taste you."

So good! So good! The words were a mantra in his head, repeating over and over again in a joyous chorus. Her body fit around him like a glove. She was tight, sleek, and so wet for him. For a first timer, he thought he was doing pretty well at holding his own. He hadn't lost his wad prematurely. In fact, Yessette was rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. Panting right along with him as her core snugged around him and milked his length. Pride surged through him as he realized what was happening. She was coming. She teetered right on the brink because of him. One little push would send her spiraling as out of control as he was. The sound of made him pound into her even harder. OORAH!

Her breath and the sound of her voice, loaded with passion fell like spun sugar over his shoulders. Taste him. Hell, he'd give her every last drop he had. What did it matter? More likely than not he was going to die anyway if he didn't get back to his pack. He had nothing to lose. The one thing he did have to lose, he'd already surrendered to her anyway. Her body bucked and clenched onto his stiff erection even harder, dizzyingly so. Death never felt so good. "Yes." He ran his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head. Tipping his chin up as he continued to thrust in and out of her sleek sheath. Offering an invitation for her to take him in every way possible.

Yessette felt the muscles in her core tighten. Daniel was a quick learner and he'd mastered the art of conquering her in one session. No lover had ever been so enthusiastic with her. Ploys for dominance and sickeningly romantic trysts, yes, but not the raw, hard pumping of pure lust she experienced with Daniel. Her fangs elongated, aching with need. He gripped her tightly in his arms and cried out, every muscle taught with strain, as he spilled his release into her. Her body rejoiced and gave itself over to the ultimate pleasure, wrapping around him with the spasms of her climax. At the crucial moment, when he was too overcome with raw ecstasy she unleashed her fangs and dug them into the thick layers of muscle and tendon along his neck.

His blood sent her spiraling free on a second trip to paradise. Hot and sizzling as a branding iron it flowed over her tongue. Fueling her body with its effervescent life force. Daniel's blood was much better than a mortal's blood, thicker and richer, filled with exotic spice. She drank deeply. Urgently. The small taste she'd intended wasn't enough. She needed more. She rallied up her strength to withdraw and pull away, but couldn't. He tasted so good. She had to stop before she killed him.

Daniel shrank in Yessette's body. The blood was more urgently needed in other places than his cock, he thought to himself. She was slowly killing him. Draining him past the point of no return. Good. There were worse ways to die. He wanted to be strong till the very end. But, his head was too heavy to remain upright on its own. Wearily, he rested the weighty bowling ball atop the Popsicle stick structure of his neck on her shoulder and prepared to kiss the world goodbye. His eyelids fell shut and he was surrounded by the peaceful darkness beneath them.

Yessette withdrew her fangs with a terrified shudder. Daniel's pulse was weak beneath her fingertips. His skin deathly cool and pale to her touch. If Eric found out what she'd done, he'd kill her. Panicked, she carried Daniel to the bed and bundled him in the covers. His essence rushed through her veins. Gently, she slapped him on the cheeks to rouse him. "Daniel, wake up!"

Daniel didn't budge. His breathing was ragged and labored. She'd taken too much. A human would have already been dead. Stubbornly, he clung to life. Yessette climbed onto the bed with him and snuggled under the covers, wrapping her limbs around his too cold body. She winced and gasped in agony as her fangs pierced the tender flesh on the inside of her wrist. She pressed the wound to his lips. She'd seen Eric do this before and it had worked. Her blood could resurrect the dead. "Daniel, please."

Weakly, Daniel forced the first drops down his throat. He didn't want to die. Right now, he wanted nothing more than the quiet solace of his woods and Yessette. Her blood could bring him back from the brink of the black pit that stretched out like a maw beneath him. Her pained gasp reached his ears. But, was beyond his consciousness as he latched on, digging at the tiny punctures with his blunt teeth to widen them. Freeing the life giving flow of her blood from her wrist and into his deprived body.

The first jolts of the blood ripped through his veins. Freezing him. The effects were agonizing. The blood was working, healing his ravaged body. Nervously, Yessette's fingers fluttered at his temples. He clamped his jaws together as the blood rebuilt destroyed cells. Daniel gripped the sheets and panted against the need to cry out against the pain. His wolf howled loudly inside of his skull. His human form wavered. He battled with his wolf to maintain control. Yessette had made a mistake and he'd been the one to encourage her to do it. His wolf might not understand that and try to rip her to shreds, limb from limb. His pain was his fault. Not hers.