Laura Kaye: Taken by the Vampire King

Did she?

An odd sensation, like pins and needles, tingled over the palm of her left hand. She involuntarily squeezed his hand, and his fingers wrapped around hers.

“ Nei ,” she moaned again. “ Ver så snill. ” Please.

A whimper, like the sound of an animal in pain, sounded against her throat. His muscles erupted in tremors. With a grunt, his lips released her skin. Curses and yelling echoed off the buildings around them as his tongue dragged over the spot where she’d been bitten, spreading a relieving balm. The flesh there suddenly felt less raw.

He flew back from her. No, dragged. He’d been pulled away. A man stood behind him, arm tight around his neck. Roughly, he hauled him across the open parking space and forced him facedown against the hood of the next car, arms pinned at an almost bone-breaking angle behind his back.

Yet he didn’t resist. He didn’t fight back.

As she watched the bizarre events unfold, twin reactions coursed through her—relief at the rescue, and worry for the vampire that had seconds before drank from her throat. Protectiveness, even.

Why she should feel the least sympathy for him, she couldn’t begin to explain, but she also couldn’t deny the feeling. Nor the fact that her body was more aroused than she could last remember.

Kaira slid down the door of the van until her butt hit the bumper. Shaking so hard she thought for sure there must be an earthquake, she braced her bare feet against the pavement to keep from outright falling. With one hand, she struggled to force the lapels of her coat together. A whirlwind of confusion filled her mind.

God, everything hurt—her head, her throat, her arms, her very skin. The list went on.

Movement in her peripheral vision. A man eased down off the sidewalk with his hands raised—the younger guy she’d seen in the gallery earlier, the one who had yanked Jakob from the room.

“I just want to help you,” he said.

Problem was, Kaira was experiencing something of a mind-to-body disconnect at the moment, and she couldn’t manage to formulate a response. She just stared at him, her eyes watching and assessing his every movement.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He took two slow steps until he stood directly in front of her, blocking her view of the scene on the hood of the car.

“Not...possible. Since I...don’t even know.”

He slipped out of the beat-up black leather coat he wore, leaving himself in only a hooded sweatshirt. “ Ja , you do. You’ve been bitten twice. You know what you’ve seen, even if you’re trying to convince yourself it’s not true.” Keeping his bright blue eyes on hers, he held the coat out to her. “Slip your arms in. It will keep you warmer. You’re probably in shock.”

The tips of two longer teeth occasionally appeared as he spoke. He was right, she did know what she’d seen. Vampires. Five of them, no less. It was like she’d stepped out of the gallery and into an alternate universe. She glanced at the coat and shook her head.

The leather sagged in his hand. “Change your mind, you just say.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How’s it goin’ over there?”

Low voices fired back and forth for a moment, as if the pair by the car was arguing. Finally, one of them replied, “Fine, but he’s insisting I not let him up.”

“Do what he says.”

“Is Jakob okay?” she whispered, half hating herself for caring. Half dying to know.

The blond in front of her turned back and frowned. “Jakob?”

She nodded, gesturing to the other men, er, vampires.

“ I’m Jakob.”

Dizziness washed over her. She clearly had no idea what the hell was going on. “I asked his name...before...at the gallery. He said Jakob.”

Jakob—the real Jakob, apparently—tilted his head. “I think he was calling me, not answering you.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “My brother’s name is Henrik.”

Brother?

Her feet totally numb from the icy ground, Kaira felt her knees turning to mush. The earlier fever returned with a vengeance, whipping through her like a flash fire. Way she felt, she couldn’t process all these details. There was only one thing she wanted—needed—to know. “Are you going to kill me?”

“ Nei. ”

He said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, that something inside told her to believe it.

The smallest sense of safety returned to her and right behind it came a tsunami of post-adrenaline letdown. “Help,” she said a split second before her legs gave out.

Somehow Jakob was there. He caught her against his chest. “Okay. I have you,” he said.

Good as he smelled, he didn’t incite the cravings she’d felt a few moments before. The comparison was as unwelcome as it was unbidden.

Growling erupted, fierce and sudden. Kaira looked up in time to see Henrik take the man who had been holding him and flip him over the hood of the car.

He spun and stalked toward them, glaring at Jakob, who tucked her under his arm and tugged her back a full step. Her heart rate kicked up again, but the fright that came over her was less for herself than for the vampire holding her upright.

Jakob held out a hand. The other vampire scrambled up off the sidewalk and approached from the side.

Kaira peered around Jakob’s chest and gasped. “His eyes,” she said to herself. Bright, piercing blue, like a cloudless sky on the most beautiful, spring day. Totally captivating.

“Henrik,” Jakob rasped. “Your eyes have changed.”

Confusion played over Henrik’s aggressive expression.

“Jesus, brother, your face—the cuts have all healed.” His voice was awash in wonder.

“I’ll be damned,” the third vampire said.

Henrik paused and ran his hand over his cheek, his lips, his neck. His azure eyes went wide.

Kaira glanced between the three of them, unsure what explained their sudden change in demeanor. All the aggression and tension flowed out of them.

“How?” Henrik said. “It takes me days to heal...”

His words hung on the night air for a long moment, and then three pairs of preternatural eyes turned toward her.

Healed. His face had healed. Henrik cut his gaze to his knuckles, but he already knew what he would find. Now that he paid attention, the swollen throb from moments before was gone. His eyes confirmed the truth of it. She’d healed his wounds from the fight with the Soul Eater.

If mere moments of consuming the sweet blood circulating through Kaira’s veins could restore his ability to heal, what would a good and proper feeding do?

Henrik stared at her for a long moment. Wonder and indecision and dangerous, dangerous hope held him rooted in place despite the magnetic draw of her blood.

And then all the little details of her penetrated the noise between his ears.

Busted lip. Bloodied throat. Ruined clothing.

He wasn’t sure which of them looked worse.

Her. After all, his wounds were healed.

“Go get the truck,” he said to Lars. The warrior nodded and disappeared.

Fierce longing speared through him. Not just to drink more, though that was there with a greedy vengeance. But also to heal her in return. His right hand prickled and he rubbed it roughly against his thigh.

He glared at Jakob, at how much of his brother’s body touched hers. Possessive rage rose up and demanded attention. Only the certainty that the other male’s presence ensured she’d survive riding with Henrik on the thirty-minute trip off the island and back to their mountain citadel kept him from acting on the territorial instinct.

The king cleared his throat. “Kaira, we need to get you off the streets. There are more of them out tonight. We will take care of you.”