Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)(76)
Author: Gena Showalter

Her eyes narrowed, and he thought he had her, but all she said was, “The injury wasn’t that bad.”

So. Much. Anger. His hands fisted. Without a word, he stalked to the bed, hefted her over his shoulder, and carted her to the shower stall. He dumped her inside and left her there, slamming the door behind him.

“Don’t come out until you’re ready to apologize for everything!”

He waited for a response. He didn’t get one.

Fuming, he stomped into the living room, flopped onto the couch, and petted Hellina. She couldn’t speak, so she didn’t anger him. She even managed to calm him somewhat as she licked him, that adoration like a living thing in her gaze. If everyone he turned acted this way, he would turn Ava before the sun set. She’d love him too much to be pissed.

At some point, he heard her trudge out of the bathroom, putter around the bedroom, and dress, but she never came to find him. That was for the best. Devyn’s deliveries began arriving, and McKell compelled the deliverers to stand still and allow Hellina to drink her fill. After the fourth feeding, the dog fell asleep on the floor.

McKell decided he was calm enough to deal with Ava now. Well, as calm as he could get without spanking her. Spanking. Yes. That was acceptable. He grabbed the whip he’d brought with him during his first visit—someone had placed it on the coffee table—and stormed into the bedroom with every intention of tying her up before throwing her over his knees. She sat at the edge of the bed, her siren’s body wrapped only in a fluffy white towel. Rather than grabbing her, he studied her.

Her shoulders were hunched, her hair was brushed to a coiled shine, and all of her cuts and bruises were nearly gone. Her skin was once again a perfect sun-kissed peach, her pulse drumming wildly, strong. She smelled a little like Bride, flowers and mint, but underneath those new scents he still caught a hint of orchids and butterscotch.

His mouth instantly watered. All thoughts of spanking vanished, and though he wanted to jump on her, finally have her, take her, own her, her upset held him immobile. “What’s wrong?”

“I—I lost a fight,” she said, and there was a slight quiver to her voice.

That hesitation … he doubted she’d meant to mention the fight, but she had, so they would deal with that first. “You lost because you were stupid about it.”

The quiver moved to her chin. “Spare my feelings, why don’t you.”

“You know you were.” Was she about to … cry? This woman who often snarled, had stabbed him twice, tasered him once, and kissed him so intently he could have been lost forever, all without backing down?

She shrugged those dainty shoulders and looked away, to someplace he couldn’t see. “Maybe.”

“So what else is bothering you?” he asked gently.

“I just …” She swallowed. “You’re mad at me.”

And that pushed her to the brink of tears? “Yes.” Even though he despised the thought of making her cry, he wouldn’t back down in this. Her safety came before her feelings.

“So now you’re going to whip me and leave.” She stood in one fluid motion and finally, finally, he was faced with the fury he’d craved. Darks waves of it pulsed from her, wrapped around him, and squeezed tightly. He embraced every gossamer strand. “Well, guess what? That’s fine. Do it! Go! I didn’t want you here, anyway.”

Mixed with the anger, he now heard fear, and that he couldn’t welcome. Especially when the words that came with the emotion were like a knife in the heart. “I’m going to assume Bride’s blood is talking, not you. Because you know I would never mar your skin. You also know I’m here to stay.”

Just like that, the fire drained right out of her, and she gazed at him through the thick shield of her lashes, hopeful. “You’re staying?”

That sting in his heart drained, too. He’d take the hope over the anger any day. “Yes. Why would I leave? I live here now.”

“But I keep hurting you and nearly got myself killed. After you warned me about the dangers.”

“Which you will not do again. Promise me.” It was a command he wouldn’t allow her to ignore.

“I promise, and I’m sorry,” she whispered, delighting him. “But why do you care so—you need my blood.” There at the end, her voice had picked up volume and flattened. “I get it now. You’re not staying because you like me, you’re staying because you need me. Why else would you have moved in with a lowly human? Not that you’re officially moved in. I haven’t said yes to anything permanent.”

That he’d once thought the same thing—lowly human—now settled heavily on his shoulders, but he didn’t let it weigh him down and send him fleeing. The outcome of this was too important.

“You aren’t a lowly human, Ava. You’re my human. And I’m here for your blood, yes.” He wouldn’t lie about that. Couldn’t. “But I’m also here for you. Your kisses … your body …” He stalked toward her, intent in every step. “And now I’m going to have them, once and for all.”

Twenty-three

So many thoughts whirled through Ava’s mind as McKell closed the distance between them, and somehow she was able to reflect on each one in a heartbeat of time. She’d fainted during a fight. Which meant she had lost that fight. McKell had saved her as if she were a damsel in distress. Embarrassing. He had also arranged for her healing. Sweet. She’d trusted him not to turn her into a vampire, and he hadn’t. Confusing.

Why had she trusted him while she’d been at her most vulnerable? Why had he helped her when he could have struck? She’d left him behind, almost helpless. “Almost,” because McKell always found a way to save himself. And why, when she’d woken up in bed, McKell hovering over her, had she known everything was going to be okay? As if they were together irrevocably and would stay that way. As if he belonged in her life. As if he was exactly where he needed to be.

Then he’d stormed out of her room, pissed and seething. She’d taken a shower and wondered if he was packing his stuff. And she’d cried. Cried like a goddamn baby! She didn’t need him, she’d told herself. She didn’t need anyone, and never had. That’s the way it had always been, and would always be. She could even live without Noelle, if necessary, though she didn’t want to. But McKell …

Flayed her alive, left her reeling, panicked but eager. Desperate. Needy. He—