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Hunter was nodding as she spoke. "I took everything out of the unit. It's in a box truck I've hidden near the swamp behind this house. But you're right. There are bound to be useful clues that could lead the Order to Dragos. I intend to take the contents to Boston as soon as possible."
More than anything, Corinne wanted to race outside to find the truck Hunter mentioned and rip through everything he found. She felt certain that the key to locating her son was contained somewhere in those lab records and files. It had to be, or she stood precious little chance of ever knowing where her child might be.
She looked up at Hunter, knowing she'd deceived him by withholding the truth about her son. She stared into his earnest, intense gaze and felt the same twinge of guilt she had felt earlier that day. He kissed her again, and the guilt she bore was made worse, more distasteful for the fact that Hunter was standing there being so tender and kind with her.
Corinne glanced down at the floor, shamed and frightened. "There's something you need to know," she said softly. "Something I should have told you before now. I should have told you what happened to me while I was in Dragos's prison, but I was scared. I needed to be sure that I could trust you - "
"I know what they did." His deep voice vibrated in her bones. He guided her chin up until she was looking in his eyes once more. "I know what Dragos and Vachon did to you the night you were taken. I know how they violated you."
This wasn't the truth she meant to divulge to him, but all the same, Corinne's breath burned in her lungs. She was confused, horrified. Sickened to think Hunter was aware of her deepest humiliation. She'd wanted to die that night; part of her had died then, her innocence robbed in one horrific moment. Her voice trembled a little. "H-how could you know ...?"
"Vachon. He boasted about it, just before I killed him." Amber sparks smoldered in Hunter's golden eyes as he spoke. "I ripped out his throat with my teeth and fangs. I couldn't control my rage when I realized what that sadistic son of a bitch had done to you - that he had enjoyed it."
Corinne listened to his account of what he did, momentarily distracted from the confession she still hadn't made to him. She could hardly believe that the rigid, flawlessly disciplined warrior was admitting to having lost control.
Over something that had been done to her.
"I made sure his death was agony," Hunter went on. "I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to bleed."
And he had, Corinne thought, less appalled than astonished by the depth of violence Hunter had inflicted on the other male. He'd practically bathed in Vachon's blood, from the way he'd looked just a few minutes ago.
"It was his blood that showed me what he'd done, Corinne. I saw all of Henry Vachon's guilt, all his secrets. His blood showed me everything."
She frowned, uncertain what he was telling her. "I don't understand."
"Neither did I, not until tonight," Hunter said. "When I sank my teeth into Vachon's neck, I swallowed some of his blood. That's never happened before, that I've ingested Breed blood. As soon as it slid down my throat, his memories opened up to me."
"You're a blood reader," she replied. "You never knew what your ability was?"
He shook his head. "Dragos made sure all of his assassins knew as little as possible about their heritage or the things that might make them unique. I didn't know my talent until Vachon's foul blood awakened it."
And now he knew her degradation. Good lord, could he possibly have seen all the beatings and violations? Did he see how she'd been stripped and broken, forced to endure unspeakable torture along with the other captives trapped in Dragos's prison cells?
Corinne turned away from Hunter, feeling exposed. She felt dirty and ashamed, embarrassed that he had this awful, ugly knowledge of her ordeal that even she wasn't quite prepared to confront. She drifted into the bedroom, needing space to catch her breath, collect her thoughts.
She didn't realize Hunter had followed her until she felt the warmth of his hands come to rest lightly on her shoulders from behind her. He turned her around to face him. He offered no words, simply wrapped her in his arms and held her against the heat and strength of his body. Corinne clung to him, too needful of the solid protection of his arms to deny herself the comfort of feeling him holding her close. Hunter bent his head, brought her mouth up to his. He kissed her, a slow melding of his lips on hers. His bare chest was warm and velvet-soft under her palms. She felt the faint, raised pattern of his dermaglyphs, felt the quickening of his heartbeat pounding beneath her roaming fingertips.
She drew back from his kiss and met his hooded gaze. His golden irises were hot with amber, their pupils thinning rapidly as the air quickened with the heat of desire. She knew where this was heading. To her astonishment, the thought didn't terrify her as she expected it would. But she couldn't pretend that she was prepared, or that she knew how to touch him - how to be with him - the way another woman might.
He kissed her again, and she felt the gentle graze of his fangs against her lip. Beneath her hands, his glyphs were pulsing and alive, his breath sawing swiftly in and out of his lungs.
"Hunter, wait ..." She could hardly find the words, but she needed him to understand what being with him meant to her. "I haven't done this before. You know what happened while I was ..." She couldn't say it. Couldn't speak the words that would allow Dragos and his sick deeds into this moment that belonged to her and Hunter alone. "You need to understand that I haven't ever ... made love."
He stared at her, something dark and possessive in his hooded, amber-gold gaze. "Neither have I." He gave a slow shake of his head as he tenderly stroked her cheek. "There has been no one, not ever."
Corinne swallowed, struck mute for an instant. "Never?"
His touch traveled along the tilt of her chin, then skated softly across her lips. "Intimacy was forbidden. It was a weakness to want physical contact. It was a flaw to desire anything, especially pleasure." He kissed her again, and a low growl rumbled deep in his chest. "I never knew what it was to crave a woman's touch. Or to hunger for a woman's kiss."
"And now you do?" she asked hesitantly.
"Since I met you, Corinne Bishop, I've been thinking of little else."
She couldn't hold back her smile at that confession, despite that he said it with more than a little bemusement. Perhaps even a trace of annoyance. She reached up and twined her fingers around his nape. He took the cue and bent his head to catch her in another deep kiss. This time, it was searing. She felt his passion in the hungry way he covered her mouth with his and in the erotic demand of his tongue as it swept along the seam of her lips, pushing inside as soon as she parted them to draw a shallow breath.
She moved with him, letting him draw her toward the bed. He peeled away the robe as he guided her down onto the mattress, then spread out next to her. Lips still locked together, hands still exploring each other with avid interest, Corinne felt his fingers trace one of the scars that riddled her torso. Most had healed with the forced ingestion of the Ancient's blood, but there were others, wounds that had been inflicted with the intent that they'd be permanent. Wounds meant to break the spirited young woman who'd fought her subjugation for longer than had been wise.
"Don't," she whispered, her voice choked and anxious. "Please, Hunter ... don't look at them. I don't want you to see everything that's ugly about me. Not tonight."
