Dark Needs at Night’s Edge (Immortals After Dark #5)(15)
Author: Kresley Cole

A ragged bandage on his arm caught her attention. Sebastian too frowned at the gauze, tearing it off to reveal a peculiar, blackened injury. "What the hell is this?" It appeared as if he’d been attacked by a beast, and then the skin around the mark had died.

Why would Conrad have healed from the gashes across his chest, but not from another wound?

Nikolai narrowed his eyes. "With his strength, he should have mended that easily by now. Maybe if he cleans it, it will improve."

"Christ, look at all the scars, Nikolai."

"I had no idea he’d sustained this many hits during the war," he answered, moving behind Conrad to inspect his back.

"Maybe he had them before the war." Sebastian yanked free Conrad’s belt. "Think about it – he never worked without his shirt, and he continually went off by himself. He could have been a highwayman for all we know… ." He trailed off at Nikolai’s expression. "What?"

"Come look at this," Nikolai said, so Néomi followed Sebastian around. All three of them frowned at an elaborate black tattoo covering his entire right shoulder blade. It was unusual, with its slashing lines, but compelling in a way. "Isn’t that the mark of the Kapsliga Uur?"

What’s the Kapsliga Uur? Why did their faces pale at the very idea?

"That can’t be right," Sebastian said, an edge to his voice. "We’d have known. They recruit young. He couldn’t have hidden his involvement for two decades."

Seeming lost in his own world, Conrad continued his rasping mutter, unaware of their discovery.

"He always did his own thing, always brushed off questions about where he’d been or with whom," Nikolai said. "My God. He’d been out hunting vampires with the Kapsliga. No wonder the turning maddened him."

Sebastian’s face was grim. "He would have been trained to destroy vampires, his hatred of them stoked from the time he was a boy."

"And then I turned him into what he despised." Nikolai released a breath through his teeth as though he’d been kicked in the stomach. "It would have been unendurable."

"What about their vow?" What vow?

If possible, Nikolai paled even more. "For all his faults, Conrad never broke a vow in his life. Unless it happened before he’d turned thirteen… " Unless what happened?

The two were silent for long moments, Sebastian’s expression grave while Nikolai’s was filled with guilt. "His life had been given over to a cause greater than himself. I should have" – Nikolai ran his hand over his forehead – "I should have talked to him, given him, and you, the choice that night."

"I wouldn’t have chosen the turning, and then I wouldn’t be with Kaderin." He spoke as if he’d sidestepped the direst tragedy. Sebastian was lost for his Bride. "Besides, Conrad was too far gone. The soldiers gutted him before me, hours before you and Murdoch came. I don’t believe he would ever have regained consciousness."

She floated in front of Conrad to face him. He’d been stabbed in the stomach, she in the heart. Then against their wills they’d both been changed into something else entirely. Neither of them had asked for their current existences.

He’d been a hero, his life given over to a greater cause. She sighed, waving her hand to send a gentle touch along his cheek. What happened to you out there, vampire?

Sebastian said, "But he’ll never reconcile himself to our existence unless we can convince him that we aren’t evil."

Shaking his head hard, Nikolai said, "We can’t convince him of anything until his mind heals more. Let’s get this over with."

They stripped off his pants, leaving him naked.

And she swayed weightlessly. Le dément est exquis.

Her gaze slid from his navel, following that trail of black hair. Oh, my, my, my. Even flaccid, his size was brow-raising.

"Conrad, look at me." Nikolai waved in front of his vacant stare.

Conrad blinked as if he had no idea where he was or how he’d gotten there.

"Do you want to wash yourself?" Nikolai asked. "If we chain your hands in front of you?"

Seeming to shake off some of his confusion, Conrad eased his muttering. A flicker arose in those red eyes.

He’s calculating. At length, Conrad grated, "Alone."

The brothers shared a glance, no doubt reviewing all the ways Conrad couldn’t escape. "Very well," Nikolai said.

Conrad held his wrists up behind him, and all the rippling muscles of his torso flexed into sharp rises and indentations that spoke of a terrible strength.

After removing the cuffs, Nikolai refastened them in front, then pulled a pin to loosen the chain between the wrists so Conrad could have more freedom. When Conrad made no attempt to escape, they glanced at each other as if their brother was making outrageous progress. Which, she supposed, he was.

"I’ve left a towel and a change of clothes on the rack," Sebastian said. "They should fit. But if not, we’ve brought plenty more – "

"Alone!" Conrad snapped. When they finally left, he entered the spacious shower stall.

Still facing her direction, he stepped under the water and let it cascade over his back. He appeared exhausted from the medicine, as if his limbs felt heavy and ungainly, but he seemed to enjoy the simple pleasure of the water sluicing over his body.

I envy him every drop!

He picked up the bar of soap, smelled it. Finding it acceptable, he lathered his face, then leaned back against the tile so that the water ran over his front.

And all she could do was stare because, as the blood, plaster, and burn marks washed from his skin in thick, grimy rivulets, a handsome visage surfaced.

No, not merely handsome, more like extraordinary.

She’d known he had pleasing features but hadn’t been able to look past the unnatural eyes and dirt to truly appreciate his firm lips and wide, masculine jaw, or how his nose was aristocratic and strong.

Punch-drunk. That’s how she felt about seeing his clean face and unclothed body as a whole. She’d heard women talk about encountering a man so devastatingly gorgeous they’d felt breathless, dizzy. Now she understood.

It dawned on her that though she’d spied on men before, never had any male as sexually attractive as this graced her shower stall.

When he began to rub the soap over his chest and under his arms, the slick muscles in his torso bulged in a breathtaking display. It’d take her weeks to learn just those muscles alone – how they flexed, how his body could move… .

The soap went lower.

She swallowed.

Lower still… 

She didn’t think she breathed when he lathered between his legs with his big, scarred hands, washing his long shaft and the flesh hanging behind it without interest, while she was dumbstruck.