Christine Warren: Huntress

He rushed forward and I put my hands out in front of me, pushing against him with all the power I could call, praying it would be enough. The demon pushed back and I felt his power beating against me, hammering at me until I thought every bone in my body would break from the force of it. And then I felt him stumble.

Like a slip of the foot, something shifted, faltered. The darkness inside me surged forward anew, a hungry predator that had scented weakness in its prey. The demon screamed and I thought my ears might bleed from the sound of it. His form lost what little definition it had once possessed and before my eyes he turned to vapor. Like a genie being sucked back into its bottle, the demon was drawn into the urn. I slammed the lid down on it and stood there, shaking, unable to believe that it had actually worked. The black magic, sated with the life it had taken and the victory it had won, settled back into whatever corner of my soul it resided in, content to stay there quietly until I needed it again.

“Cin?” Michael’s voice came to me on a whisper.

He was sitting up on his knees, staring at me like he didn’t know what was happening. I staggered out of the circle and collapsed in front of him. His hands reached out to cup my face, brushing back the tears.

“ M’anam ,” he said softly. My soul .

I threw my arms around him and leaned into the hard wall of his chest, burying my face in the side of his neck. He held me tightly and I thought that I’d never been happier to be anywhere than I was to be right here, with him.

“You left me,” I cried brokenly.

“Never, mo chridhe ,” he said, gently rocking me back and forth. “I will never leave you. I promise, I will never leave you.”

It was the last thing I heard before my body shut down from utter exhaustion.

I woke to find myself in my bed with Michael’s arms wrapped around me. I could have wept with the pleasure of it. Feeling as though I had slept for a night and a day—and perhaps I had—I stretched lazily, reveling in the feel of Michael’s body against my bare skin. I might have been content to just lie there, blissfully enjoying the moment, if he hadn’t woken at my stirring.

I sighed at the feel of his lips against my skin, and when he gently bit me at the juncture of my shoulder and neck, my body shuddered in response. It seemed it had been weeks since I’d last had him, not days, and my body cried out for us to finish what we had begun in the carriage. I turned in his arms and pushed him back until I could crawl over him, straddling his hips.

“Welcome back,” I said, staring down into his beautiful face.

“Cin—” he began, but I swallowed his words with a kiss. There would be time enough to talk about what had happened later. At the moment I just wanted to feel .

I moved against him, back and forth along his shaft, feeling the moisture build with each stroke. Normally I enjoyed letting him be the dominant one. Nothing excited me more than giving myself over to him and having him take me as he willed. Tonight though, after all that had happened, I wanted to be in control. I felt the driving need to possess him, to reassure myself that he was here, and that he was mine. I wanted to put my mark on him.

Ever so slowly I moved to take him inside me. Teasingly I slid down an inch, then two, and then out again, over and over until the muscles in his chest quivered from the torment. His fingers bit into my thighs as he tried to make me take all of him, but I wouldn’t allow it.

“Cin,” he said raggedly.

“Such a greedy man,” I replied, mimicking the words he had said to me in the carriage. “Do you want more?”

“Please,” he growled.

I sank down on him, burying him to the hilt inside me, and we both cried out with pleasure. My body quivered in ecstasy at the feel of him stretching me, filling me. I laid my hands on his chest and my hair fell over us like a scarlet curtain as I rode him at a punishing pace. We came together quickly, violently, and as my body ebbed with sated bliss, I collapsed onto his chest, spent.

“Do you have any idea how lucky I am to be loved by a woman like you?” he asked.

I paused from licking the blood from the crescent-shaped wounds my fingernails had left on his chest.

“Almost as lucky as I am to be loved by you,” I replied, “Will you love me forever, Michael?”

“Cin, my heart, my soul,” he said earnestly. “The moon will fall from the sky and vampires will walk in the sun before the day comes that I ever love thee not.”

News traveled quickly throughout the vampire population that I had slain the demon. Sebastian fled the city the following night. Legally, I probably couldn’t have executed him for his involvement in the Ripper murders. We had no concrete evidence, and I had, after all, incinerated our only corroborating witness. But Sebastian had apparently decided to save his own skin on the chance that someone who didn’t care so much for solid proof would assassinate him—either that or my infamous temper would finally get the better of me and I’d kill him out of spite. Michael had been furious when Grady told us the Regent had disappeared, but I wasn’t surprised. Sebastian was a sneaky bastard and he was a survivor. I was fairly certain our paths would cross again one day. Hopefully in a dark alley where no one would be the wiser if I allowed Michael to carve him up like a Christmas goose.

Since it rarely happened that a regency was vacated without a challenge and a resulting victorious party, the London vampires were left in a bit of a quandary over who would take control of the city. In a surge of democratic fervor, wholly uncharacteristic of vampires, the court decided to put it to a vote. Grady suggested that his Chief Warden should be elected Regent, by virtue of court seniority, since all of Sebastian’s lieutenants were now being looked upon with suspicion. Warden James declined the nomination, and in the end it was Grady who was elected Regent, mostly because of his help in toppling a corrupt ruler and vanquishing a demon, but having The Righteous endorse his nomination certainly helped. I thought he would make a fine Regent.

We stayed in London long enough to see Grady elected and to attend Ginny and Warren’s wedding. Warren moved into the house, but insisted on keeping the apothecary shop open. It was, after all, a family tradition … along with consorting with vampires. Ginny was looking particularly radiant when they saw us off at the docks and, as I waved goodbye from the deck of the Peregrine , I wondered how long it would be before they gave me another generation of humans to love, and lose.

As for the demon, Michael and I had taken the urn and dropped it into a large rectangular form filled with concrete. When that had dried we’d loaded it into a specially made steel box with four-inch-thick sides. And then we padlocked it. Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean I planned on taking a break from making love to my husband to drop it over the edge of the ship.

And where was that ship bound? We decided to take a holiday and see America again. Perhaps New York this time.