Page 93 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts
“No. There’s no time to hunt witches.” Diana wrinkled her nose, though he wasn’t sure what she found displeasing. She spun around, then hesitated – her shoulders tense, her breath uneven. For a moment, she remained silent. Constantine expected her to argue again or to leave altogether.
Instead, Diana turned back, stepping closer than she’d dared in days. She placed her hands on his shoulders and straddled him. The scent of roses filled his senses, and the warmth of her body against his spread through him like fire.
Although he had plenty of experience with women, he hesitated the moment he looked into her doe eyes. “What are you doing, Diana?”
Her gaze lingered on his lips. “Freeing you from the shackles.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Time.”
Constantine stiffened beneath her. There she was, finally in his lap, promising sex… Because circumstances had forced her to. Unexpected disappointment surged in his chest. Still, he slid his free hand around her, letting his fingers trace the curve of her waist. “So, you’re willing to sleep with me only because of the handcuffs?” The sharpness of his tone contrasted with the gentle caress of his hand against her back.
She grimaced. “I’m trying to free you, Constantine.”
The oppressive feeling in his chest intensified, but he ignored it. What did he want, for fuck’s sake? A love declaration? His eyes drifted over her rosy lips. “Then kiss me.”
Her nails dug into his shoulders, then she leaned in and covered his lips. Darkness surged through him, filling every fibre of his being. Grasping her nape, he forced his tongue into her mouth with a ferocity born of frustration. A primal energy stirred within him, rising unbidden. His hand slid under her blouse, gripping her breast with no pretence of tenderness.
Diana jerked back, her gaze snapping to the window. “Did you hear that?”
Yes, he had. The faintest tremor had run through the mountain, almost lost in the whims of the wind. Yet a heightened immortal’s senses would never underestimate it.
Constantine nodded. Without another word, Diana rose and hurried out. Seconds later, the front door creaked open. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled.
Diana re-entered the room, her movements deliberate as if to feign calm. However, her dilated pupils betrayed her. “There’s something in the woods. We have to go.”
Constantine pointed at his shackles. “I guess I’ll be staying behind.”
The vampire scanned the room with frantic eyes. She hurried to the wardrobe and began rummaging through the drawers. When she stood up, she held a small box in her hand. Matches?
Constantine raised an eyebrow. “If you’re planning to set me on fire, I’d prefer you hand me over to the Queen instead.”
Diana pulled a thin wire from the box – a paperclip. She straightened it into a makeshift pick, then bent over the shackles, her nimble fingers working the wire back and forth. With her free hand, she drew the knife strapped to her thigh and slipped its tip into the lock.
“We’ve established this doesn’t work, princess,” he said, his interest deepening. It was hard not to be impressed by the determination on her face as she fought the restraints.
“Damn these bloody witches!” Diana growled when her efforts proved futile. “I’ll try breaking the chain again…” They’d attempted it countless times, but the magic held firm.
The noise of engines echoed from outside.
Their eyes met.
“Go!” Constantine shouted.
“No.”
“You have a chance to escape. You’re quick and clever. You could slip past them.”
Diana’s gaze darted to the bed frame.
“Diana, for once in your life, listen to me –go!” he growled.
She hesitated, scanning the room once more, before springing to her feet with feline agility. She strapped her knives around her thighs and secured her pistol holster before racing out the front door.
For a moment, Constantine thought she had escaped. Then she came back, wielding a large, curved tool.
A crowbar.
