A Midsummer Night's Demon Read online

  He leaned down to lick her ruined neck. His tongue flicked over the wound, careful not to do anymore damage. The first lick spun his world. Her blood, unlike any other, tasted like sunshine. It warmed him to the core, made his body come alive in a way no blood had done before. His vision swam, tilting the parking garage. His body reacted, every cell screaming…

  MINE!

  His body responded to hers like a schoolboy holding his first crush. His muscles tightened, his hold became possessive as he lapped at the wound.

  Most among his kind believed that each of them had one true mate—a heartmate. A person who completed them, the other half of their heart and soul. They recognized that person by the taste of their blood.

  Ky now believed in heartmates. He would never get enough of her addictive flavor to sate his hunger.

  Blood now gone, his tongue continued over the flesh of her neck to find the delicate spot where her shoulder met her neck on the opposite side of the wound. His tongue flicked across the vein. It beat in time with her heart, enticing him to sample just a bit more.

  Desire flowed through his body at the thought. His inner beast rose to the surface, demanded another taste of its mate. Carnal need flowed through his veins unabated, sending a surge of wanton lust to heat his body. Saliva filled his mouth at the thought of more.

  She was his. His to savor and to have. His to protect.

  Like a slap to the face, the need to protect his heartmate sobered him from his baser needs, giving him the strength to rein in his inner beast, take back control. She needed him, his help, and he could do no other than see to her needs. He forced his fangs to recede, then gave her sweet neck a tender kiss before he forced himself away.

  Surprised to find her looking at him through leaden, half-opened eyes, he pushed into her mind to glean her thoughts. Despite her pain, she found comfort in his arms. She thought of him as an angel come to save her and take away her pain.

  If she only knew.

  He was more killer than savior. More devil than angel. He lived a dark life, but finding his heartmate made him want to become better.

  Ky adjusted her on his lap, and looked deeply into her mahogany eyes, holding her gaze to his. “Tell me your name, honey.”

  Her beautiful eyes drifted shut as she whispered, “Lyn.”

  He lifted the unconscious woman into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. Her head lulled against his shoulder, her lips resting over the pulse in his neck. The heady sensation compelled him to get his mate to safety before the vampire could return.

  He carried her to his car, secured her in the passenger seat, and drove them as fast as he dared to the dock where his boat waited. The ride across the river to his private island was rough due to an impending storm, but they arrived safe if not a bit shaken. Ky gathered Lyn in his arms and made his way toward his home with quick strides. He reached the porch just as the heavy clouds let go. The downpour beat a pounding rhythm on the palm fronds as he carried her into his house.

  Chapter Two

  Ky pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and took a deep breath of warm April air. He surveyed the island he’d bought years ago. At a half mile wide and just under a mile long, the land sat in the middle of a river. Ky had built his home in the center, leaving the natural pines, scrub palmetto, and palms as a barrier to the outside world. Tonight he found himself more thankful than ever for that cover, for inside lay his heartmate.

  Lyn.

  He had detected a slight accent, present in the lilt of her voice when she had told him her name. Her name. That was all he knew about her. That one syllable. Well that, and he knew she belonged to him, he recognized it deep within his very soul. He’d felt an instant connection when he’d tasted her blood. He had no doubt the fates created her for him.

  Unfortunately, she happened to be a demon. Not only did her kind think vampires mythological creatures, but her natural inclination would be to shun him once she discovered what he was. He would have to play this carefully—be sure not to scare her away. It would not be easy.

  Everything within called for him to take his mate. Love her. Make her his in the most primal way. His need already rode him hard, and he had spent less than twenty-four hours in her presence. Ky moved forward through the palmettos, putting more distance between him and his temptation.

  The stroll helped to ease the physical symptoms of his desire, but his mind refused to give him respite. It continued to torment him with visions of her, playing them over and over like a record skipping on a turntable. The first time he saw her beautiful face. The image of her slumped in the parking garage. The way she looked up at him with trust in her eyes before she whispered her name.

  He inhaled a deep breath and forced his attention out to the river to distract himself. People rarely cruised the river at night, which made things usually still and peaceful.

  Tonight was no different. All seemed quiet, but with a mate to protect, he didn’t want to take any chances. He sent his senses flowing through the palms and pines, out over the water, in search of any sign of trouble. Finding only the energy of his mate, the occasional splash of an alligator and call of a bird, he turned back to his home.

  To her.

  His shoeless feet sank into the sandy soil, the grains crept between his toes with each step back to his home. The house, small by most standards, contained a living room, kitchen, a couple of baths, and two bedrooms. More like a bungalow. It suited him. A quick swipe of his feet on the door mat, he pushed through the front door.

  The relaxing combination of chamomile and jasmine hit him once inside and comforted him. His nostrils flared taking Lyn’s scent deep within his lungs, letting it brand on the inside.

  Ky made his way through the house, stopping to hit the remote that opened the shutters to allow the light of the moon into the home. The shutters were ingenious really. Marketed as hurricane shutters, they had been invented by a vampire, not only to protect against hurricanes, but against the deadly rays of the sun as well.

  Ky padded down the hall toward his mate. Pushing open the door to her room, the sight greeting him made his heart pound in his chest. Lyn lay on his bed, her dark hair fanned out over the pillows, with the full moon casting its silvery light over her. One delicate hand lay palm up on her forehead, the other rested upon her stomach, moving slightly with each breath. The sheet had pulled to the side, exposing her lean leg. She still wore the dress from the previous night, but the material had pulled down giving him an unobstructed view of the side of one breast. Her ruby lips pursed in a small pout. Long black lashes lay still on her bronze cheeks. With her potent sexuality and demure curves, she resembled a Mayan goddess.

  After turning on the light switch by the door, he crossed to her in three long, powerful strides to take a stray stand of her hair in his hand. He savored the feel of its silky glide over the pads of his fingers as he tucked it behind her ear. Lyn stirred, turning into his touch. Ky froze, his breath hitching in his lungs as her soft lips touched his hand.

  Those lips.

  A man could get lost in those lips, in her kiss. They were the devil’s temptation. The image of them wrapped around his flesh, giving him immeasurable pleasure, flooded his mind, and sent a rush of desire to heat his blood.

  He shook his head to stop the direction of his thoughts before they drove his inner beast over the edge. He barely had control around her as it was.

  The usually unflappable agent pulled his hand away as if her lips had burned him. Ky straightened the sheet, covering the sinful temptation of her flesh, to help give him some semblance of control.

  “Lyn,” he breathed, so softly she did not stir. He cleared his throat. Taking a deep fortifying breath, he tried again. Louder this time. “Lyn, honey. You need to wake up.”

  ****

  Lyn struggled through the sleepy haze. An unnatural lethargy weighed on her limbs. Someone had said something. Wanted something. Her mind struggled through the thick mental fog trying to remembe
r what the voice commanded. Wake up. Someone wanted her to wake up.

  She strained to open heavy lids. The pounding in her head drummed a harsh beat. Her dry mouth and scratchy throat made swallowing difficult. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking several times to bring the world into focus. Stretching gingerly, she manipulated her body part by part finding it sore, achy. Lyn scanned the room slowly, the movement hurt.

  Through squinted eyes, she could make out the wooden dresser across from her bed, bare except for the small TV. Her gaze followed the beige wall behind to find a door. Peering inside, she could see a shower and small vanity. The harsh light emanating from the ceiling fan stabbed her sensitive eyes, making them tiny, watery slits.

  “Good. You’re awake.”

  She turned her head in the direction of the deep voice and rubbed her eyes with her palms in an attempt to force them to work properly. She blinked at the blurry image standing next to her to bring him into focus. Did she know him? He seemed familiar—yet not.

  The sight of him took all the suffering from her thoughts. She stared into the face of a dark angel with coal-black hair and a warrior’s face that could have been sculpted by God himself. She found him a handsome man, his face full but not heavy, with no deep hollows or uncompromising angles, but instead soft lines that blended naturally to form his features. His eyes were the lightest blue she’d ever seen, almost abnormally so.

  Panic set in as the fog from her mind cleared, and she realized she was not in her bedroom, but instead in a room she didn’t know—with a stranger. No, make that a large man she did not know, she amended noting his height. Her eyes darted around the room with clarity for the first time. And they were alone! Her hands fisted in the sheet bringing it under her chin.

  “Where am I?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing accusingly. “Who are you?”

  The sizeable man put his hands out in surrender. “Whoa. It’s okay. You’re safe. I’d never hurt you.”

  “Who. Are. You.” she repeated slowly, as if he wasn’t very bright.

  Lyn watched an emotion flicker in his icy gaze, but it disappeared before she could put a name to it. He steeled the features on his handsome face. “There are not many people in this world who would speak to me like that.”

  Lyn knew a moment of concern. She didn’t know this man. Maybe being impolite might not be the best approach.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude.” She hoped he found her sincere. “I only want your name. I don’t think that is too much to ask.”

  “Has anyone ever told you, you are feisty?”

  “We Latinos are known for our fiery passion, if that is what you mean? Are you going to tell me your name or should I start guessing? Rumpelstiltskin?”

  One eyebrow shot up in interest as he cocked his head. “My name is Ky Robinson.”

  She pushed herself into a seated position, bracing her back against the headboard. “Where am I, Ky Robinson?”

  “In my home.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Where’s that Mr. Smartass?”

  “Definitely feisty.” The corner of Ky’s mouth lifted into a sly grin.

  Getting answers from this man was like pulling teeth from a faery—damned near impossible and totally frustrating. “So where is your home?” Lyn prompted, straightening the sheets around her.

  “Florida.”

  This line of questioning was getting her nowhere. She would need to switch tactics to get any information from this man. Obviously the direct approach wouldn’t work. “Can you at least tell me why I’m here?”

  His body stiffened at the question. It was subtle and for a moment when he spoke she thought perhaps she’d imagined it. “I brought you here to keep you safe. You were attacked last night.”

  Memories crashed in on her. Her hand flew to her throat. Lyn fingered the ragged flesh. Someone had stitched the wound. One. Two. Nine. She lost count. Her questioning eyes pinned his. “The man…my date…hurt me. Tore my neck. Why aren’t I in a hospital?”

  He took a glass of water from the nightstand beside the bed and held it out to her. “Here, I thought you might be thirsty. And I have aspirin if you are in much pain.”

  She had already been drugged once. No way would she take a chance on being drugged again. Until she was sure he could be trusted, she would not be taking anything he had to offer. “No pills. I’m fine.”

  He tracked her hand as it took the glass from him. His eyes narrowed when she did not drink from it. “I know you are hurting, Lyn. You can trust me. I’m a…cop.”

  “Really?” He sounded so sincere. Lyn could read the honesty on his face. Her demonic instinct told her she could believe him, though she was not sure why. He hadn’t given her any reason to feel strongly one way or the other, but she believed him. Maybe she just needed to believe in the goodness of humanity after the attack. In that moment, she didn’t care to examine it too closely. She was safe and not alone—two things she desperately wanted right now.

  “Yes, really. I’m trying to catch the guy who attacked you. What do you remember about last night?”

  A puzzled look took her face. She paused before answering, replaying the previous night’s events in her mind. “I met a blind date at the bar for a drink.”

  “Go on,” he encouraged, standing stone still next to the bed. Lyn saw an emotion pass over his face something akin to tempered anger. As quick as it appeared it was gone, replaced by an implacable mask.

  “We had a drink, maybe two, then I started to feel funny. Told him I wanted to go home.”

  Lyn tugged her lower lip between her teeth. She watched as Ky’s eyes trailed the movement. His muscles bunched under his flesh. He shifted his stance, the movement drawing her eyes to his thick, jean-clad thighs.

  The demon looked—really looked—at the man beside her for the first time. She took her time in a slow perusal of his anatomy. Beginning with his handsome face, her eyes roamed down the column of his corded neck to take in the broad shoulders that led to his bare chest. His body flexed under her scrutiny when her eyes moved over the corrugated muscles of his stomach to his narrow waist. His jeans hung low on his hips, the dark material stretched over an impressive bulge. His pants hugged thighs which were thick as the trunks on the local palms.

  Powerfully built, his calm demeanor belied an underlying strength. He was a hunter, a predator, and he looked at her as if she was his prey. And heaven help her, she wanted to be. She swallowed convulsively.

  Something drew her to this man. His unabashed confidence? The intensity of his stare? He called to her baser instincts. Man to woman. Male to female. She knew the term animal magnetism, but had never experienced it until now. He was pure male animal power and everything female in her responded. Her tongue darted out to touch her upper lip. The muscles of his belly tightened in response to the subconscious sensuality of the gesture.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, and she could not help but notice how his thick biceps bulged. A tribal tattoo wrapped around his left bicep and shoulder in an intricate pattern that made his presence all the more powerful.

  “Lyn.” The raspy tone in his voice told her he was as affected as she by the heat between them. “Don’t look at me like that, honey.”

  She could see the desire in his blue eyes, the ice there quickly going up in flames. He inhaled deeply, taking steadying breaths as if he struggled with his self-control.

  “Lyn, tell me more about last night,” he commanded, his rough voice sounding harsh.

  “Where was I?” she asked absently, her thoughts on his reaction. He’d chastised her for looking at him. Obviously she misunderstood the tone of his voice when he called her honey. He wasn’t interested in her, only her story—a cop looking for a statement. She drew her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them in a bracing hug.

  “You wanted to go home,” he prompted.

  “Yes. I felt dizzy. I stood up to leave, the room spun, and I started to fall but he caught me. I knew it couldn’t be the alc
ohol because I didn’t drink that much wine, so I asked him why he drugged me. He said something sarcastic about it being easier than mind control.”

  The muscle in Ky’s jaw ticked, the only outward sign that her story affected him.

  “He pulled me from the bar, flung me over his shoulder, and took off down the sidewalk.” She gave him a weak smile. “The next thing I remember is looking up to see a handsome knight coming to my rescue.”

  He reached down to cup the side of her face with the palm of his hand. It warmed and soothed her cheek.

  “I know what happened from there.” His hand fell from her face, leaving her a little bereft from the loss of contact. “Tell me more about this guy. How do you know him?”

  “I didn’t know him. Remember, I said he was a blind date. We met online.” Ky lifted one brow giving Lyn a derisive look. Fire leapt into her cheeks as her face flushed. “And before you say anything, I know it was stupid to meet him at a bar. I offered to meet him for lunch at a restaurant, but he talked me into drinks at the bar. He was very charismatic.”

  Another flash of emotion crossed his face. Was he jealous? Angry? Lyn wished he’d stop hiding his emotions. Trying to catch them was getting exhausting.

  “Did he pick you up or did you meet him?”

  “He picked me up at my townhouse.”

  Ky nodded. “What name did he give you?”

  “Juan Herrero.” Tears burned her eyes, clouding her vision.

  A rude snort of derision exited from his throat. “You know that is Spanish for John Smith?”

  She nodded her head. “I speak Spanish. I know.” Her tone was sharp. “And don’t you dare say it. I feel foolish enough without you telling me how dumb it was to meet a guy from the internet named John Smith. I don’t know what made me do it.” Her anger threatened to push the tears from her eyes.

  “You know you could have been killed,” he chastised softly, shaking his head back and forth.

  She curled into herself, drawing her knees tighter against her chest. Her tears burst their dam, to run down her cheeks in twin rivers that wet the sheet tucked around her knees. Stupid—that was the best word to describe her. Her knight was right, she could have been killed. Was almost killed. Had he not come to her rescue, she would be lying dead in that parking garage.