Page 82 of Shadow's Edge (Night Prowler 1)
“I hope you realize,” he drawled, tightening his arms around her, his eyes avid on her face, “I’m not going to let you take that back.” He smiled down at her in gorgeous, dazzling victory. “Even if you didn’t really mean it, you said it. And I’m not going to let you take it back.”
Jenna, looking up at him with their bodies still pressed together, was sated and sore...and utterly enthralled. A luxurious, golden pleasure had spread through her with his first touch, a pleasure that captured her and took her to her knees.
And now—as he gazed down at her with the cool wind slipping by their bare bodies and the skin of her back stinging from scraping over bark as he took her against the tree—she realized she had finally discovered what she’d been looking for her entire life.
More than just answers, more than mere information or facts.
Completion.
She opened her lips to speak, to tell him that she actually had meant what she said, but something stopped her, something strange and new.
It was a scent, the faintest hint of copper and salt carried on the breeze. She frowned, gazing up at him, trying to place it. She knew this smell, she knew that dark, metallic tang burning faintly at the back of her throat. And it was overlaid with something else, something sweeter, something floral...
Tea roses.
Tea roses...and blood.
Jenna gasped.
Leander reacted at once. She felt the way his body responded to the shock on her face, his muscles instantly tensed, his eyes honed in like a hawk.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
She blinked and felt a chill pass over her skin. The forest around them, moments before so welcoming and warm, suddenly pressed in, close and dark and dangerous.
“Daria,” she whispered. “It’s Daria. She’s hurt.”
He didn’t wait for her to say more. He grasped her wrists in his hands, looked west toward where Sommerley awaited, then turned his face back to hers, his eyes gone to stone. Wordless understanding passed between them.
They Shifted to vapor as one and twisted up through the canopy of boughs, out into the open sky.
They returned to Sommerley the way they left, filtering through the chimney that opened to the enormous fireplace in Leander’s bedroom. He Shifted to man just as Jenna funneled out its marbled mouth and dropped in a ruffled column to turn to flesh before him.
He pushed her toward his closet, their feet hardly touching the ground, and pulled a pair of his beige trousers and a white linen shirt from wooden hangers. He handed them to her without a word. She dressed quickly, rolling up the flopping sleeves and too-long pant legs, watching Leander as he pulled more clothing off hangers for himself.
She eyed the rumpled pile of coats still bunched on the floor from their lovemaking last night and watched his face grow tighter and darker with every passing second.
Jenna guessed he could smell the stench of spilled blood now too. It was stronger here, nipping the air like the sting of biting insects. She could find its source if he let her, if only he gave her a moment, but he was already pushing her out the door, down the curving staircase. She stumbled after him in bare feet as he dragged her along through the winding corridors of the mansion toward the sound of gathered heartbeats and strained v
oices.
They burst into the East Library through the carved mahogany doors, and the room fell into arrested silence.
All the men were gathered here, the leaders of the Ikati and his own Assembly. They sat in rigid shock around the long rectangular table, scattered throughout the room in small, staring clusters. For some reason, all the windows were open, thrown wide in their casements. The room was nearly frigid. Morgan sat alone in shadow in one corner of the room, her arms wrapped around herself as if for protection. She stared first at the floor, then up at them in relief.
Her look of relief was followed quickly by something like terror.
Christian was the first to speak.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice cracking. He looked straight at Jenna. His gaze dropped to her hand, clenched in Leander’s fist, then raked over her tousled hair, her swollen lips. His face turned crimson.
Her face turned crimson as well when she realized that in addition to probably looking like she’d just enjoyed a thorough ravishment, she was most likely marked with Leander’s scent. Which everyone would be able to smell.
“We didn’t know where you had gone—no one could find either of you—” he sputtered.
“What’s happened?” Leander interrupted, hard. “Where’s Daria?”
“She disappeared sometime during the party, we’ve been looking for her all night. We tried to find you too. We thought you all had disappeared—”
