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"I called her cell phone," he murmured, remembering all too vividly the fear that had gripped him in those frantic first moments. "I called six times, a dozen ... it K6;&; irang unanswered. I had no choice but to go out and look for her."
Danika's heart thudded beneath his ear. "In broad daylight-knowing it would kill you?"
"I didn't care. I went on foot to the city, the fastest means of reaching her. I followed her through our bond, into the crudest of Edinburgh's slums. It was near noon, and my skin was turning to ash. But she was alive, and I still had a chance of saving her." He shook his head. "I wasn't in the city more than a few minutes when I felt our connection go still. It severed, and I knew she was dead. I'd failed her."
She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. "You did all you could, Malcolm. More than anyone would expect."
"No," he said. "Not yet. But I will do right by her. I don't know how long I stood there in the street after she was gone, sensing my flesh was burning but feeling only the emptiness of loss. But then dark clouds moved in and a heavy rain started. It bought me time, which I used to search the city. I looked for her until I found a drug dealer who'd heard of a pimp scoring large off finders' fees for pretty young women-even some men and children-in demand by a client of particular tastes."
"Live human game," Dani breathed. "For Reiver and his blood clubs."
Mal nodded. "I never knew such rage as I did when the pimp who took Fiona coughed up Reiver's name. It was the last thing he did. He admitted attacking her that day. He'd grabbed her a few blocks away from the shop she'd visited and took her back to the filth of his flat, where he'd arrange for her sale. But she fought him. She fought for herself and our baby. The pimp had a knife. She tried to get away, and he stabbed her through the heart."
"Oh, my God." A tear streamed down Danika's cheek.
"The bastard used that same knife on my face in the moments before I crushed his skull in my bare hands," Malcolm said, his voice flat in his ears. "Part of me wanted to go after Reiver right away. I wanted swift, brutal justice. But Fiona was more important. I couldn't leave her in that place, with that human garbage. So I brought her home. I buried her here that same day, and I swore to her that Reiver and all those who funded his operation would pay with their lives. I won't rest until I've destroyed them all."
"And so you've forced yourself to serve those same men. All this time." Danika was looking at him, sorrowful, almost pitying. "But at what cost to yourself, Mal?"
"At any cost." He got up hastily, tension riding him for the unplanned, unwanted baring of his soul. "It's late, Dani. I can't risk more time here. I want you to stay put at the castle while I'm gone. I'll try to come back before daybreak."
He didn't wait for her to agree. He stalked toward the adjacent bathroom, willing the shower on with his mind, leaving Danika in silence behind him.
Chapter Seven
Reiver was waiting for him when Malcolm arrived back at the club.
"Busy night, Brandogge?" Reiver was in the public room of the establishment, reclined on a leather sofa, his dress shirt and suit pants unbuttoned. With him was a topless brunette under one arm, a blonde scantily clad in a red lace bra and panties under the other-club regulars whom Reiver kept in frequent rotation in his own personal stable. The women were in his thrall, puncture marks still faintly visible on their necks and limbs, hands roaming all over him as he watched Malcolm with shrewd, untrusting eyes. "I looked for you a couple of hours ago. Thane mentioned he thought you went out for a bit. An important errand or something, he guessed."
Thane, the ass-kissing bastard. Was he worried Mal might be his chief competition as Reiver's right arm? Little did the other guard know what Mal had in store for their employer. And if he got in the way when the time came for Mal to make his move, he wasn't opposed to taking Thane out too.
At least he'd sent the feminine diversion as Mal had asked. For that alone, he was tempted not to wish the guy dead in the fallout yet to come.
And whatever Thane's intentions, Mal knew better than to let Reiver think he had him caught in a lie or betrayal of trust.
"I went out to check on Packard and Kerr," he volunteered. "I didn't tell Thane where I was going, since I wasn't sure you'd want anyone else privy to your instructions where the woman was concerned. I figured Thane would know if you wanted him to know.">To drink from her and bind this female to him at last.
That urge boiled past his lips on a low growl.
Danika's dusky blue gaze lifted to him, and he could only hope her ability hadn't betrayed his thoughts to her. "Come, lass," he rasped, disengaging from her heat to take her into his arms.
He lifted her up and carried her away from the table, striding naked with her, out of the kitchen and up the castle stairwell to the master bedroom on the second floor. His bedroom. The one he hadn't set foot in for months.
Not since he'd buried the ruined pieces of his old life and his quest to destroy Reiver began.
He brought Danika into the room and set her down on the king-size four-poster bed. The thing was a relic, only a couple hundred years younger than he was. Its headboard, canopy, and carved supports were made of tooled black walnut, its thick down mattress cloaked in creamy sheepskin coverlets and wool blankets woven in MacBain red and black. Danika looked sexy as hell in the middle of it, propped up on her elbows, one slender leg bent at the knee.
Malcolm wanted her all over again.
Still.
Her heavy-lidded gaze raked his naked body and she gave him a knowing smile, all the invitation he requir Kionn he red.
He prowled onto the bed and covered her, sank back into her welcoming warmth. He made love to her slowly this time, properly, the way a woman like her deserved to be pleasured. When they were both slicked in clean sweat and sated again, he stretched out alongside her and gathered her close. He stroked her pretty breasts, caressed her delicate throat and jawline. Tried to will his eager, all-too-obvious erection to heel. An exercise in futility when Danika reached down to touch him, wrapping her fingers around the shaft and tenderly petting its length.
He groaned, savoring the feel of her hands on him. His curse was raw in his throat, as dark as the guilt that was suddenly rising up on him. He'd been able to push it aside so long as his senses were consumed with need, but now it gnawed at him.
Danika's touch went still. She was looking at him in concern now, forehead creased. "What is it, Mal? Am I doing something wrong?"
