Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [113]
“Dmitri, you are not a monster.”
“So you say,” he muttered.
“I do,” I agreed. “Deep down, you know it too. And I say you’re going to stay. I’m not afraid of the daemon bite. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Maybe you should be,” Dmitri murmured.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But I still want you to stay.”
His jaw worked like he wanted to object, but finally he wrapped his arms around me, pressing me against his chest so I could hear his heart beating. “You’re the most damn stubborn woman I’ve ever known, do you realize that?”
“I do,” I said, “and I know you wouldn’t want me any other way.”
Dmitri took me by the wrist and opened the front door. “Come here.” He led me out onto the drive and we both basked under the moon, letting it fill us and tantalize us with the promise of the phase. “This is you and me,” Dmitri whispered. “No matter what. You and me, Luna. I promise.”
It was sweet of him to try and reassure me, really, but as I leaned against Dmitri’s solid body, saying a silent prayer to the bright lady for Vincent Blackburn and all the nameless, faceless victims that Seamus had claimed, I knew the only certainty we had was that we didn’t know anything the future might hold. No one could promise me a happy ending, not even Dmitri.
But I’d face the unknown as I always had, and with Dmitri’s help, I’d be able to do it with my eyes open.
“Luna?” Dmitri said. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I murmured, looking out over the ocean. “Let’s go inside.”
“Something on your mind?” Dmitri asked mischievously.
I kissed him, and let him lead me back to the cottage. “No. I just want to enjoy the time we have.”
Read on for a preview of
SECOND SKIN
Coming from St. Martin’s Paperbacks in March 2009
When werewolves from Nocturne City’s oldest packs are found shot point-blank through the head, homicide detective Luna Wilder isn’t sure what’s killing them or why … and now the killer is determined to make Luna their next victim. To make matters worse, her boyfriend Dmitri’s daemon bite is getting worse, weakening him and putting a major strain on their relationship.
Luna discovers the murders are linked to the Wendigo, shape-shifting cousins of werewolves who drink the blood of their victims for strength. Luna doesn’t know whether Wendigo leader Lucas Kennuka is friend or foe, but he’s clearly determined to wrest her heart from Dmitri. And if Luna doesn’t discover who’s behind the killings, it could destroy her fragile relationship—and cost Luna her life….
My cell phone buzzed against my hip. The Caller ID blinked DMITRI. “Hold on,” I instructed Bryson, who was standing obstinately in front of my car with a hangdog look.
“This bed is awfully big without you in it.” Dmitri’s voice sounded like dark red wine spilled on pale skin, Eastern Europe blended up with clove smoke.
“Hi, honey,” I said flatly. Bryson gave me the eye, like I’d just started speaking in Esperanto.
“Do you know what I wanna do to you right now? I’d start between your thighs…”
“Sure, no problem. Gotta go.” I slapped the phone shut and jerked open my door. “The answer is still no, Bryson.” I turned the Fairlane’s engine over with a roar. “Either get out of my way or be my speed bump.”
“It’s weres!” Bryson yelled at me. “Dead weres! Four of them so far!”
I hit the gas and squealed out of the motor-pool lot before he could finish, leaving him in a trail of my exhaust.
At home, I unlocked the front door of the cottage softly. The sky was still light at the very edges, over the water, pink and frayed like glimpsing silk through a torn skirt. “Dmitri, you awake?” I called. It was a courtesy. Dmitri could scent me as soon as I stepped out of the car in the little circular driveway that pushed up against my broken-down rental cottage on the edge of the dune.
“Up here.” He didn’t sound husky and pleasant anymore. I kicked off my flip-flops and climbed up the stairs to the bedroom rather more slowly than a woman coming home to her sexier-than-anything were-boyfriend