Page 2 of Love, Rekindled

Her lips twitched. The male might smell as if he’d climbed out of a dunghill, but he was smarter than he looked—a reminder not to underestimate her opponent.

She spread her arms, her lips pursed into a pout. “Do I look like a horse?”

Lust smoldered in the guard’s eyes as he halted in front of her, but he remained suspicious. “Strip,” he commanded.

She blinked as if confused. “Excuse me?”

“I need to make sure you’re not hiding any weapons.”

“Fine.” Slowly turning, she glanced over her shoulder. “You’ll have to undo the fastenings.”

The guard released a growl of anticipation, his gaze locked on the tiny buttons that ran down the length of her dress. He seemed to forget all about his duties as a guard as he prowled forward, his fangs fully extended.

Lifting her arms as if preparing to allow the silky garment to be pulled over her head, she discreetly pulled one of the ornaments from her hair, revealing the thin, silver blade. Oblivious to the danger, the guard reached out to grab the back of her dress, his foul scent making her gag. Impatient to be done with the fool, Jayla whirled, her arm moving in a smooth arc as she turned.

“Hey—” The male’s protest was cut short as her hand impacted, and the blade slid directly into his heart.

There was a choked sound of shock as the vampire glanced down at the elegant weapon sticking out of his chest. Then, falling to his knees, he toppled forward like a tree that had rotted at the core.

Stepping over his body already crumbling to ash, Jayla headed through the entryway to the main room. She halted to glance around the open space with its lofted ceiling and flagstone floor. There was a massive fireplace across the room and a long dining table that could seat at least a dozen guests, along with iron racks that held spears, shields, and rusted swords—all unnecessary items for a vampire. They didn’t need heat, they didn’t eat their meals off a plate, and their weapons were never allowed to rust.

Was this a temporary lair?

She was still pondering the question when a thunderous energy sizzled through the air. Azrael. No other creature could possess that much power. Well, no one beyond the Anasso. Jayla grabbed a second ornament from her hair. This one had the same slender silver blade, along with a powerful curse.

Moments later, a tall male with silvery blond hair cut close to his head and piercing blue eyes entered the room. Jayla gasped. He was…stunning. Even for a vampire—who were always gorgeous.

His face was exquisite perfection. From the wide brow and high, angular cheekbones to the arrogant length of his narrow nose. His mouth was wide and curved into a sensuous smile. Her gaze slid downward, taking in the tattoo that wound around the side of his neck. Were those feathers? And then farther down to the broad, naked chest that narrowed to a slender waist. Her mouth went dry, half expecting him to be fully exposed. She felt a pang of disappointment to discover that he wore heavy leather leggings and boots laced up to his knees.

He reminded her of a lethal Siberian tiger, all sleek muscles and coiled power.

Elegant death preparing to pounce.

Stalking forward, he pulled a slender sword free of the sheath hooked around his waist. “I’ve been expecting you,” he drawled. “Jayla, I presume?”

Sensations clawed through Jayla. Not fear that he’d known she was coming or that he knew her name—she was always prepared for any contingency. No, this was a different unease.

It was awareness. A deep, shockingly intense connection to this male that she’d never encountered before. As if destiny had just punched her in the gut.

Jayla hissed. How was it possible? Was it a trick?

Yes, that had to be it.

She held on to the lame explanation, spreading her feet as he strolled to stand directly in front of her.

“I don’t know whether to be pleased or insulted that you expected me and yet chose to surround yourself with such incompetent guards,” she taunted.

He shrugged, his muscles rippling beneath his pale, satin-smooth skin. “They are temporary guards who came with the house. Unlike your Anasso, I don’t have the desire to enslave my fellow vampires to create an empire.”

She twirled the blade in her hand. Was he trying to distract her? She could have told him the sight of his raw male beauty was already scrambling her brain.

“You think I’m enslaved?” With a blinding motion, Jayla darted forward, aiming the dagger at Azrael’s heart.

The male easily avoided the blow, slashing his sword through the air to drive her backward.

“I assume you willingly joined the cause,” he mocked. “But what do you suppose would happen if you chose to walk away?”

Jayla stepped to the side, telling herself the strange cramping in her stomach was because of his obvious skill as a warrior and not the niggling concern lodged in the back of her mind. Her doubts about the King of Vampires were a worry for another time and place.

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