No answer. His fist shot out, slamming into the crumbling plaster wall.
Long hours passed before Murdoch returned to Daniela, and he arrived even later than he’d intended to. Surprisingly, she wasn’t at work on her ice tablet—it sat idle against the wall. Nor was she outside.
He found her in bed, dressed in a wispy black gown with her hair loose. The ice crystals around her eyes glinted in the room’s dimmed light. She’s so beautiful.
“It’s late,” she quietly said.
“I tried to call you earlier, but you didn’t answer. I had some things to look into.”
“Murdoch, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were looking for excuses to be away from me.”
“You know how important this is to us,” he hedged. “And we’re running out of time. I’m asking for you to be understanding about this, and for your patience with me.”
But she was still upset, lightning streaking outside. Luckily, he’d had the foresight a few nights ago to buy a get-out-of-jail-free card, an emerald comb he’d kept in his pocket for just such a time as this. “Just to show you that I’ve been thinking about you, I got you a surprise.”
“A gift for me?” Her eyes instantly grew bright. “I love gifts!”
Grinning, he made a mental note always to have one of these on hand and dug into his coat pocket. Empty. “It’s… not here?”
She cast him a sad, crestfallen look that seemed to rip into his chest. “That’s fine. You didn’t need to get me anything.”
A piss day. “Damn it! It was an emerald comb. I just bought it the other night for your hair.” He checked all his pockets, then tore through his things. Nothing.
He must have evinced his disappointment, because she sighed, and her tone softened. “We’ll find it later, Murdoch. But for now, you look exhausted. Why don’t you come to bed?” She patted the spot beside her, glancing up at him from under her icy lashes.
Undone. Just like that, he grew hard for her. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Ignoring the cold, he stripped off his clothes—everything but his gloves—as she pulled off her gown. Once he joined her in bed, he snagged a blanket. She nibbled her lip, her eyes excited, knowing what he wanted to do.
“Lie back.”
As she reclined, he drew the blanket over her, covering up to her breasts. Barrier in place, he eased above her, settling between her legs. He rested his upper body on his elbows, leaving his gloved palms free to fondle her luscious little breasts.
With his face buried in the flaxen hair spread over her pillow, he rocked his shaft against her, shuddering with pleasure.
This was his favorite position with her. At least like this, he could imagine he was actually inside her. And it made him recall his recurring dream of drinking her. The more tense their situation became, the more he dreamed of it. Now as he moved over her, he dragged his tongue across one of his sharpening fangs for a shot of blood, pretending it was hers, pretending he was truly taking her.
When he rolled his hips again, she wriggled her own, putting his shaft in just the right spot. “There, kallim?” he grated with another thrust.
“Ah, yes,” she moaned, letting him know he’d rubbed directly over her clitoris.
Squeezing her breasts, he ground against her there, making her cry, “More!” He gave her more, harder and harder. As her moans grew louder, she writhed wildly, meeting him.
“Come for me,” he rasped desperately, about to spill on her.
She arched her back, her body tensing beneath him as she neared her peak.
Suddenly he felt his ankle brush hers, skin to freezing skin. The blanket rode up? His eyes went wide, just as she cried out in agony.
“Murdoch, no!” She shoved him off her, scrambling away.
There she sat on one side of the bed, quivering with pain, while he moved to the other, sitting with his head in his hands. “Christ, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“W-we have to be more careful.”
“Damn it! I need to touch you, or I’ll go mad!”
She whispered, “Do you think this is any easier for me?”
He raised his head, staring at the wall as he said, “I want to make this better, I want to fix this for us. And I can’t. There’s nothing I can do.”
He heard her pull on her gown before she walked on her knees toward him. “Murdoch, there might be a way. I didn’t want to say anything because it’s so uncertain, but there’s a witch who is coming into her powers. The strongest one. In a mere fifty years, she could find the answer for us.”
“A mere fifty years? Half a century of this?”
“We could get one of them to cast a spell and make us sleep, or—”
“Sleep? You mean hibernate?” He shot to his feet, yanking on his pants as he whirled around to face her. “Like goddamn animals? You expect me to lose five decades of my life?” he demanded, his frustration goading him. “Maybe this wasn’t meant to be.” As soon as the word left his lips, he regretted them.
But when she blinked at him as if he’d spoken blasphemy, his temper flared hotter. As if she’s never thought that.
“Not meant to be?”
“What? You’ve never considered bailing on me?”
“No. I haven’t.”
“When we are together, all we do is fight. It just wasn’t this hard…” He trailed off.
She stood as well, moving to face him. “What? What were you going to say?”
“Nothing.”
“It just wasn’t this hard with other women?” When he didn’t deny it, her lips parted. “I am so sick of you talking about your past conquests!”
“I can’t do this anymore!” He kicked her latest ice tablet, shattering it.
She stood motionless, her eyes growing silver with hurt and confusion. A tear spilled, then another, each one a knife to his heart.
He wanted to comfort her, to take her in his arms and ease that confusion. Then he remembered he couldn’t.
“If you don’t think fighting for us is worth the trouble,” she murmured, “then I’m not going to bother either.” She strode from the room, down the stairs, then out into the night.
He gave a vile curse, fighting the impulse to go after her. He was still angry, still exhausted. They would only fight more.
So he dressed, then traced to Mount Oblak, seeking one of his brothers or Rurik. He needed to talk with someone, to unburden himself. But never to speak about Daniela. No, never about her. What would he say anyway? “Just looking at her wrecks me. I’m tempted every second by something that’s dazzling and perfect—and always just out of reach.”
Though his brothers weren’t there, he found Rurik, Lukyan, and a few others gambling in the castle’s common area.
“Murdoch, join us!” Rurik called. “Have a drink.”
Lukyan gave a snide laugh. “He won’t.”
Clearly nothing had changed between Murdoch and him since the demon attack. Worse, Lukyan was right—Murdoch had been just about to decline. When had he become so domesticated? So predictably domesticated.
Why not stay here? He resented another night of not having her, resented the strife between them that had no end in sight. A stiff whiskey seemed just the thing.
He took off his gloves and settled in front of the great hearth fire, rebelliously basking in its warmth.
Numb the ache. One shot down.
Blunt the need. Then another.
CHAPTER 33
Danii marched straight out into the blizzard. All around her, snowdrifts crested and furrowed, illustrating the path of the gusts.
With her gown whipping about her thighs, she sniffled, running her forearm over her teary eyes. She hadn’t expected things to be easy between her and Murdoch, but she’d thought the prize was worth the fight.