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Exist (Vampire Assassin League Book 30) Page 2


  Because it was happening!

  To him!

  Here. On a dark vacant street. In Prague, Czech Republic.

  Anso took another deep breath, smiling widely as his chest expanded with it. His heart sent another heavy beat through his chest, this one less painful. He waited. Counted. It seemed to take forever, but within the count of forty, he experienced another heartbeat. The next one came at twenty. The next was even closer. They were growing stronger, as well. This was as incredible as it was unbelievable. He’d thought the stories mere fairytales. The gift of reanimation a myth. And yet...

  It was true!

  He was being renewed. Because he had a mate. And she was here. Somewhere!

  Anso almost gave vent to the shout of joy. Several things stopped him. There was a lot of activity happening in the square he’d just left. Sounds hadn’t ceased with the woman’s scream. Shouts and yells permeated the night. A car horn honked somewhere. Wailing of sirens came next. All of it loud. Garnering attention. Nothing he wanted. Not now. He needed to focus.

  And hunt.

  Anso pulled in another breath, retrieved his dagger, regained his footing, and jostled weaponry as he resettled it. He frowned as he looked down vacant, shadow-pitted streets. Every direction looked the same. And just as empty. Prague was a large city. Historically important to before the time of the Holy Roman Emperor. It had been a labyrinth of dark streets when he’d first seen it. It was worse now.

  He didn’t have an inkling of how to find her.

  Forgetting everything, he flung his head back and howled his frustration into the night.

  ~ ~ ~

  Okay.

  Ghost tours with over-acting guides were one thing. The cry that had just split the night was something else. Ghosts didn’t exist. And creatures that sounded like werewolves were complete and utter fantasy.

  Thinking through the facts didn’t help. The sound from that cry reverberated off the stone about her before it dissipated. A shiver raced up her spine, lifting hairs at the nape of her neck. That was unpleasant.

  Leah shoved her foot back into the shoe and stood, and when that wasn’t sufficient, she climbed atop the bench and craned her neck. Even from that vantage, there wasn’t much to see. The lighting was pathetic, but the street appeared empty of occupants. Hazy fingers of fog were creeping along the cobblestones below her, just starting to obscure the view. The night seemed colder, all of a sudden, too. She was eternally grateful to Steve for his coat. It wasn’t enough, but her linen skirt-suit was useless for warmth. The silk top beneath it was worse. It wasn’t her fault. She’d dressed for an indoor event, not this nonsense. This suit made her feel elegant. Look sophisticated, yet business-like. It exactly matched the personae she wished to project at a business conference. She hadn’t known she’d be outside in the dead of night. Blocks away from her hotel bed, as well as all the blankets she could pile atop it.

  Damn Steve.

  No. Damn vodka.

  She hadn’t even worn hosiery. Bare legs were getting the brunt of the chill. Maybe she should sit again, pull her legs up to her chest, and wrap Steve’s coat about her. That might work at keeping out the elements. It was better than standing indecisively—

  “The gods be praised. I have found you.”

  The voice was deep. Emotion-charged. And pretty damned close. Leah’s head came up. Her eyes strained to see. Her breath caught. There was a man standing before her. His feet and lower legs were in shadow. The rest of him was framed by a thin veiling of mist. His head was just beneath hers, showing his height.

  Holy crap.

  She hadn’t been this specific with Steve on her wish requirements, but she hadn’t known a man like this was on the menu.

  Or even existed.

  He was tall. Dark-haired. And beyond gorgeous. Leah had experience with handsome men, but never one this handsome. The guy was actually beautiful. So, beautiful, it was difficult to look at his face without blushing. But nowhere was safe! Every bit of him was spectacularly male. It was impossible not to notice the extent of it. He wasn’t wearing much, and he wore it extremely well.

  And Prague just became her favorite city.

  Oh. Sweetness.

  She’d never even seen pecs and abs like those on display right in front of her. His arms matched. All kinds of muscle flexed as he lifted an arm to push the top of an archer’s bow into position behind his head. He regarded her solemnly when he’d finished. Several seconds ticked by. And then he nodded as if she’d asked something.

  Her heart stuttered. Her knees wobbled. The heels clacked against the stone bench with the motion. Leah coughed. Tried to speak.

  “Um...” Her voice stopped.

  “What is your name?”

  He leaned his head back slightly after asking, placed one hand atop what looked like a sword hilt, and flexed all kinds of things throughout his chest and belly. And worse. He had a slight accent coloring his words. She couldn’t place it, but it made everything he said have a sinfully smooth timbre. Old-World decadence in sound.

  “Uh,” Leah answered.

  He waited expectantly. Leah’s heart ticked up another notch.

  “My name is Anso,” he offered.

  She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She shut it again.

  “It means ‘god’.”

  Leah’s eyebrows lifted and she blinked several times in disbelief. Her mind finally decided to assist with this. She could almost feel it clicking into gear. She still couldn’t look at his face for any length of time. Her eyes flitted to his nose area before dropping to the leather armor-thing he wore about his neck. But staring there was dangerous, too. That particular piece of apparel made a directional arrow pointing downward to a chiseled six-pack-plus of belly. From there she got a full view of really long legs. Encased in what looked like black leather slacks that didn’t have much give to them. And if what she glimpsed was real...

  Leah yanked her gaze back up. Suffered an all-over, full-body blush. Focused on his leather neck thing. She felt like a pre-teen at her first co-ed dance. Tongue-tied. Gauche. Beyond awkward. There was one benefit, however. She wasn’t cold anymore. Leah cleared her throat and spoke. She didn’t resemble a clinical psychologist with a waiting list of patients. She sounded breathless. Young.

  Smitten.

  Damn it.

  “Um. What kind of parent...names their child such a name? Aside from a music superstar, I mean?”

  “It wasn’t my birth name.” He tightened his hand on his sword hilt, making the muscles in his arm flex, while something in his attire creaked. “I earned it.”

  “Oh,” she said aloud. Wow, her mind added.

  “And now, you will tell me yours?”

  “My what?”

  “Name.”

  “Oh. Yeah. It’s Leah.”

  “Lee. Ah.”

  He said it with a distinct gap between the syllables and a lot of bass tones. She’d been named after a great-aunt. Leah remembered her great-aunt having purplish-tinted white hair. A long, thin nose. Spectacles. Lots of cats. Leah hadn’t been fond of her given name. The way Anso said it changed everything. Her name suddenly sounded illicit. Exciting. Almost breath-taking. His voice sent a plethora of shivers racing along her spine; this time they were completely pleasant. It also sparked a series of reactions through her belly, despite the girdle’s grip on the vicinity. The sensation sent tingles. Closed off her throat. Puckered her nipples against their lace-bedecked bra cups.

  He lifted the hand that wasn’t holding his sword hilt and stepped closer, sending shadow all the way to mid-chest, but that didn’t mute much of anything. His eyes sought hers and despite the misgivings, Leah locked gazes with him. Her ears rang. Her breath hitched. She could easily swoon. She couldn’t tell his eye color, but they were dark. Fathomless. Mesmeric. His proximity had a sensation to it, too. As if she stood near a massive power source. It raised goose bumps all along her skin.

  “Come. Take my hand.”

  Leah
stepped back a fraction. She didn’t know how much space she had, and couldn’t seem to move her eyes to check. But falling off the back of the bench was not a viable option. The embarrassment potential was too high.

  “How about a...no?” she managed to reply.

  “No?”

  She was amazed the word had made it out of her mouth, but Anso looked as surprised as it sounded. Maybe he wasn’t used to women who told him no.

  Or anyone who did.

  “Please?” he asked next.

  “I’m not sure that’s...a good idea.”

  “You exist. I have found you. It is—. Ah! I cannot describe it. I cannot think clearly! Please? You must come with me.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we make it a date? Tomorrow evening. No. Wait. It’s after midnight. Tonight! You could pick me up at my hotel. We could have a nice supper...”

  He shook his head.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I just found you!”

  His tone lifted more than goose bumps. It sent a prickle of tears to her eyes, and that was just nonsensical. She wasn’t an emotional type. And they’d just met. This encounter was truly weird, and getting weirder by the moment. The mist had gotten a lot thicker, having risen while they conversed. Tendrils of it wrapped about them, isolating them in a layer of white-cast fog. It should have chilled. It didn’t. There was a strange throb in the air, too. Her entire body sensed the beat.

  And swayed to it.

  Leah shook her head. This was ridiculous. She needed to get control of the situation before worse things happened. And if anything on her body obeyed, she already would have.

  “Take my hand, Leah. I beg you.”

  “Um...”

  “You do not understand!”

  “That is an understatement.”

  “I am trying to act...civilized.”

  Leah nearly laughed at how crazed that sounded. Something stopped her. It had a lot to do with the strange aura that encased them. His seriousness. And the way his upper lip had lifted on the last word.

  “You hesitate without reason. I will not harm you. You have my word. Now. Take my hand. Please?”

  “I...shouldn’t.”

  Shouldn’t?

  What was wrong with her? She’d just used a passive word, one that could easily be construed as tacit approval. There was no excuse. She was a self-assured woman with a can of pepper-spray at her disposal.

  “Why not?” He didn’t ask it as much as demand.

  “I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”

  “I am Anso. You are Leah.”

  This was beginning to resemble a Tarzan script. He moved even closer. Sparks flashed along her skin with the proximity. Every cell on her body got a strong dose of something vast. Necessary.

  Addictive.

  “Anso...um. It’s...really late.”

  “I am unwilling to lose even a moment from you.”

  Oh. Wow. How many times had she wished her ex had said something like that? Leah didn’t bother thinking it through. The number was astronomical. And – why was she thinking of Ron at a time like this? The man might have his own company and his life in order, but he didn’t remotely resemble the masculine god standing in front of her.

  Now that she thought of it. Anso was probably a perfect name.

  “Um...” The word vibrated through her throat. It wasn’t followed up by anything else.

  “I will not ask again.”

  His voice lowered into a deeper range. The last words were growled. Leah had never come up against such a blatant chauvinist. Nor, someone as manly. Anso was an alpha male to an infinite degree. She had patients with these traits, but nothing near as ingrained or apparent. And if anything was normal about this, she wouldn’t be swaying on her tiptoes in these heels, experiencing flickers of heat lick their way through her belly, upper thighs, and breasts at his words. Tone. Meaning.

  And worse. When she answered, her voice seemed to contain all of the sensations afflicting her in audible form. She’d never sounded quite so...excited. Aroused. Sexual.

  “I...think you have the wrong—!”

  Her words choked off as he lunged. His arms swooped about her, carrying her with him into the fog.

  And Leah hadn’t even cried out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  His mate radiated life. Warmth. Succor. Her presence was a beacon in a heretofore dark world; a haven of shelter in the midst of winter storms; a wealth of heat in a span of ice. An aura of light seemed to surround her. He’d seen it the moment he’d gone airborne. He’d been worried over finding her? That had been naïve and foolish.

  If pleasure filled him at being near and basking in her warmth, there was no descriptor for how it felt to clasp her to him. Experience her every breath as they feathered across his chest. Listen to her beating heart as it pulled his into synchronicity with it. Inhale her perfect blend of vanilla and mint. Feel the slide of hair strands along his shoulders. Chin. Against his cheeks...

  Anso tightened his arms about her, twirled until the night spun, and then launched forward again. He had to get her to his castle. Hidden. Secure. Private.

  Those words matched his castle. It had been built for defense. He didn’t know when it had been started, or against what foes. There had been too many over the centuries. But, at some point, the edifice had been abandoned and left to decay. Ownership had come at a pittance. Rebuilding and adding had emptied his coffers at the time. Because he’d wanted perfection: the best craftsmen, finest materials, unparalleled luxury and beauty.

  He’d believed he was erasing his origins, overwriting the barbaric portion of his personality with something better. More refined. Much more civilized. He knew the real reason now.

  He’d created the castle for her.

  The thought brought a burst of something approaching worry. His belly dropped. He lost a corresponding amount of elevation. He’d been extremely short-sighted, but he hadn’t known the stories of mating were true. Or that she would just appear one night. There hadn’t been one warning. Not even a hint! If there had, he would have prepared his home. Seen to altering décor that was centuries old. His unused kitchens were archaic; the bedroom suites even older.

  And he was taking his mate there?

  Anso gripped her tighter. His breath hitched as she gave a soft sigh. Air brushed his throat. The sensation sent all kinds of stimuli he tried to ignore. His canines joined the fray, tingling as they started sharpening. He forced them back. Ordered his mind to concentrate on the castle...and her impression of it. Perhaps he was over-thinking this. His mate could always redecorate and update things.

  Women liked that.

  Didn’t they?

  Oh. How did he know? He hadn’t been with a woman in centuries. And, just like that, he lost his thought process again. His fangs reacted. His body spun. It wasn’t possible to stay immune to this. Mating had too much power. The feelings created within him were already vast. And they were ever multiplying. His veins throbbed with renewed energy. Power. Life-force. Pumped through him with every heartbeat. Each breath added to the plethora of commotion within him. Every moment sent another burst of renewed sensation. His thighs felt the fire next. His buttocks.

  And then his groin.

  Anso sucked in a breath with the shock and marvel. He was stirring! His rod elongating. Growing hard and thick against the obstruction of leather trousers. And he felt every bit of it!

  Oh!

  He needed to get her to his castle.

  Rip off clothing.

  Find a bed.

  Forget a bed. He had tables. Sofas. Carpet-strewn floors...

  Anso’s concentration vanished. He lost all bearing on what he was doing. They lost elevation with a belly-afflicting drop. His canines erupted to their full length and piercing sharpness. But then an obstruction loomed out through the night, became a rooftop. Anso glanced off a chimney, caught the fall with bent legs, and halted there for a bit to get his bea
rings. Regain focus. Assemble his thoughts. And work at control. The entire time, the leather pants pinched his erection. Almost paining.

  And he’d felt that, too!

  Anso shoved his head back and sent a cry of absolute joy into the night about them. He couldn’t halt it. This was too incredible! Unbelievably astonishing! And beyond wondrous.

  He leapt back into the sky. Leah didn’t react. There was no question as to why. He knew. She was under his thrall. He hadn’t wanted to use his powers, but she’d left him little choice. What he’d been experiencing was beyond comprehension or containment. Now that he had her in his arms, the sensations went beyond that. They approached a level he could barely conceive. Or control.

  And she wanted him to leave her?

  Wait an entire day?

  Never.

  The tops of trees came into view. A rock face loomed from the mist-filled dark next. Anso flew upward along it. His heart racing. His pulse joining in.

  And...finally!

  He overshot the tower, skidded to a stop against the cliff face. A spin put his shoulder in position to take the brunt of landing. A scrape opened on his skin. He barely felt it. Everything was too attuned to one thing. The woman in his arms. His mate. His clumsiness had jostled her slightly. Anso pulled her close. Held her tight. She was the perfect heft in his arms. Solid. Womanly. He took a deep breath of her particular vanilla-imbued scent. He rocked in place. And silently cursed his clumsiness.

  He might have hurt her.

  And that would be unforgiveable.

  Her head shifted. Fragrant hair brushed his chin. That small event sent a surge of lightning through him. Anso tightened his belly. Thighs. Arms. All, in an effort to control the scope of reaction. Curb unbelievable force. Tamp down desire and urge. Massive need. Everything on him was alerted. Primed. And desperate.

  There wasn’t any light source on the balcony. He could still see. Much too easily. She was so beautiful! Her eyes were large, light-colored, surrounded by soot-shaded eyelashes. Her incredibly plump, red-toned lips were pursed, as if begging a kiss. Her breath came in heaves, each one lifting and displaying a bosom that demanded attention. Anso glanced down. Jerked his gaze back up. Stifled any response with clenched teeth that sliced into his lower lip. He locked his muscles tighter next, sending tremors through them.