Lucas
Page 55

 D.B. Reynolds

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

“How can you know that?” she whispered.
“One, Klemens is . . . was too smart to bury victims on his home turf, much less in his own lair. Two, vampires have an incredibly keen sense of smell, especially when it comes to blood and death. He’s not here, Kathryn.”
Kathryn cast a desperate look around the dark mansion. “I need to—”
“To see for yourself,” Lucas finished for her. “I understand. I have a contingent of daylight guards coming in to secure the house. They’ll help, if you’d like, and they’ll know how to get in touch with me.”
“Thank you.” She held onto his arm, unsure what to do, but not wanting him to leave angry with her. “Lucas . . .”
He smiled and leaned forward to give her a lingering kiss. “I still love you, Katie mine. We’ll be flying back to South Dakota after sunset tonight. Let me know what you want to do.” He glanced up the stairs. “Let’s go, Nick.”
Kathryn stood aside as Nicholas clambered past her to follow Lucas. She looked around and spied a light switch near the front door. Walking over to it, she flicked all of the switches, but nothing happened. Whatever Lucas had done in dousing the lights earlier must have damaged the grid. And it would probably be hours before the emergency crews got out here to fix whatever he’d broken. She sighed and schlepped back outside for the big flashlight in her duffle. She believed Lucas when he said her brother wasn’t here. Or at least she believed he believed it. But she couldn’t leave this place without seeing for herself, without searching for any evidence that Dan had been here in the past.
And after that . . . She didn’t know what she’d do. Because if Alex had never had Daniel, if Klemens had never taken him away, then where was he?
.Chapter Nineteen
Twin Cities, Minnesota
Kathryn stumbled wearily through the door of the rooms Lucas had set aside for her in his St. Paul headquarters. It was nearly dark, and she knew Lucas would be waking soon, but she couldn’t face him. Not yet. She was grateful beyond belief that he’d made this condo available to her, that her luggage was here with her clothes, her toiletries. She needed a shower. She needed her own soap, her shampoo, her own fresh clothes. She needed something normal and good after spending too many hours searching every room, every closet, every cabinet and drawer of Klemens’s house of horrors. His filth clung to her skin, coated her hair, and rooted beneath her fingernails. If there was a perversity that the vampire lord hadn’t been into, she hadn’t found it. He had entire libraries filled with books, computer files, and videos of the very worst kind, pedophilia, snuff films, sexual bondage and sado-masochism—and not the consensual kind, either. And then there had been his private dungeon, the place where he’d indulged his hobbies on a more personal level. Lucas might have been right about the absence of bodies—she’d found nothing to contradict him—but men and women had definitely died in that house.
She drew a deep breath of clean air and stripped down to her skin, then searched the cupboards until she found a box of garbage bags beneath the sink. Every piece of clothing she wore went into a bag, from the coated rubber band in her hair on down, including her sweater and the two shirts she’d borrowed from Lucas, even her athletic shoes and socks. She tied off that bag, then shoved it into a second bag and secured that one just as tightly. Her first instinct was to throw it all away, but she might change her mind later, so for now she simply dropped it in a corner near the door and dragged herself into the bathroom.
Reaching into the shower stall, she turned the hot water on full blast, then leaned wearily over the sink, bracing herself on her arms. She avoided looking in the mirror, glad when the room filled with steam, fogging the glass enough that she couldn’t see anything. She felt tainted by what she’d found, and she wondered if she’d ever feel clean again. Turning back toward the shower, she opened the door and nearly stepped under the spray without checking first. Something registered on her tired brain at the last minute, and she put out a hand, jerking it back when the dangerously hot water hit her fingers. Heart pounding, she adjusted the water to just under boiling, then closed the door behind her and stood, letting the water wash over her.
She didn’t realize she was crying until the shower door opened and Lucas put his arms around her, holding her while she wept silently, her tears hot against his broad chest, her body trembling with emotion while he held her steady.
“Ah, Katie. We’ll find your brother. I promise.”
Kathryn couldn’t answer at first, couldn’t find the breath to do anything but cry. But when she was all cried out, her voice scratchy from her tears, she said, “It’s not just Daniel. It’s that horrible place. Did you know that he—”
“I knew some of it. We vampire lords don’t exactly socialize with one another, so I’d never been to his house before. But I knew Klemens’s preferences tended toward . . . degradation, and my people briefed me on what they found before we left. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“You know,” she said, sniffing loudly, “I’ve met some of the agents who work on the child pornography task force, and they’ve hinted at the sorts of things they deal with. But seeing that awful collection of Klemens’s today . . . I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Aye,” Lucas agreed. “I’m only sorry he had to take so many with him.”
“But they lived there, too. They must have—”
“Some of them probably shared his tastes, but not all. The bond between a vampire and his children is strong, Kathryn. Even many of those who hated him would have been unable to defy him.”
“Then I’m sorry for them, but not the rest.”
She felt him kiss the top of her head and tried to pull away. “Don’t,” she protested. “I’m filthy.”
“We’ll have to do something about that then,” he drawled, his Irish lilt making itself heard.
He reached behind her and snapped open a plastic container, sniffing the contents before drizzling it over her head.
“I can do that, you don’t—”
“Let me, a cuisle. Just relax.”
He turned her around until her back was to his chest, his big body protecting her from the pounding water. His strong fingers massaged her scalp, scenting the steamy shower stall with the fresh smell of her shampoo, filling her nostrils with the cleansing scent instead of the greasy miasma of Klemens’s lair. She leaned her head back and let him work, relishing the elegant flow of his muscles, the solid strength of his body behind her. A wave of sadness brought fresh tears to her eyes. She knew this couldn’t last. Before too long, she’d have to head back to Virginia, to her job and her life there. She’d have to leave all of this—leave Lucas—behind. Theirs was an impossible relationship. Thousands of miles separated their lives, and that was only distance. She worked for the FBI, and he was a damn vampire lord. How could that ever work between them? She couldn’t change who she was any more than Lucas could stop being a vampire. She bent her head, so Lucas wouldn’t see the tears. She never cried, and now suddenly, she couldn’t seem to stop.
Lucas’s fingers stilled, and she thought he’d sensed somehow that she was crying, but then he slid his hands to her shoulders and said, “Prepare to rinse.” He turned her slowly into the stream of water, tipping her head forward with a gentle pressure. Once the shampoo was gone, he massaged conditioner in—she’d fallen hopelessly in love with a man who appreciated the need for conditioner.
Her thoughts skidded to a halt. Love? She couldn’t love Lucas Donlon for all the reasons she’d already told herself.
“Relax, a cuisle,” he repeated, murmuring against her ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
Take care of her? What did he mean by that? She didn’t need anyone to take care of— Oh.
Lucas’s clever hands were rubbing shower gel all the way down her back, over her shoulders and along her arms. He lifted each of her hands separately, washing between her fingers, massaging her fingernails and cuticles, scrubbing away every last bit of Klemens’s filth. He moved down to her butt and gave a teasing squeeze before sliding his fingers between her cheeks and lower, slipping one finger into her anus before gliding lower to barely crease her pussy.
Kathryn moaned softly and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. She turned her head and met his mouth. His lips and skin were hot from the shower, but his mouth when she swirled her tongue around was cool and delicious. He sucked hard, pulling her tongue deeper into his mouth before releasing her to trail kisses down her neck to her shoulder where he bit gently on the tender bone of her clavicle.
She felt the cold slide of her shower gel as he dribbled it over her chest, and then the warm caress of his hands, cupping her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard pebbles of sensation as his hands moved lower. He washed her ribs, her abdomen and lower still until he dipped his fingers between the folds of her sex, tantalizing her with toying brushes over and around her clit, stroking the edges of her vagina while denying her even the briefest glide of his fingers into her hungry pussy. Kathryn placed her hand over his, pushing his hand lower, deeper, demanding what she wanted.
But Lucas only chuckled and removed his hand from between her thighs and turned her to face him again. Squeezing more gel onto his hands, he knelt to wash her legs, from her hips to her toes, carefully washing and massaging each leg while Kathryn fisted her fingers in his wet hair, achingly aware of his mouth so close to the center of her desire. She nearly screamed when his tongue suddenly scraped a slow path along her slit, sweeping up the moisture of her arousal before stroking against her clit. His lips closed over that sensitive nub, and Kathryn thought she’d faint as he sucked hard, pulling the swollen pearl between his lips, then letting it slide out again, over and over until it was engorged with blood, until every nerve in Kathryn’s body was screaming for release. She squeezed her breasts, pinching her nipples ruthlessly, desperate to assuage some of the pressure, some of the need, that was overwhelming her senses.