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“I fucking hate you, you arrogant bastard.”
West shrugged. “Then hate me.”
“I’ll just run again, you know. I outwitted you twice before, and you only found me because you knew where I was drawn to. Now you don’t know where I’d go.”
West’s voice was low and menacing as he retorted, “Then run, little kitten, and we’ll see how far you get. There are worse things in the world thanhatay, and your power is like a fire burning in the darkness. You’d better hope I find you first. Now get dressed. The jet leaves in an hour, and you will be on it.”
I was so angry, I didn’t know what to say in response. My mouth simply hung open in shock, and I battled with the rage inside me. I turned to Jack, but he shrugged his shoulders and just stood there with an apologetic expression on his face. Well, fuck him then. I guess I knew where I stood. That was the last fucking blowjob he was getting from me. I turned and stormed back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me to let out some of my fury.
“Oh yes, very adult of you!” West called.
“Fuck you!” I screamed through the door. I paced the bedroom in frustration. I was stupid to think things would have changed, to think that West would have changed. He’d seemed different in the tunnels under the temple. He’d been protective, but he’d also cared. I remembered the feel of his teeth slipping through my skin and his hands on my body, pressing me against him, and I shivered. How could he run so hot and cold with me? I wished we’d never shared that moment in the storeroom, wished I’d never been vulnerable in front of him. I clenched my fists, storming along the soft ivory carpet. He wanted to be cold and distant? He wanted to go back to how we’d been before? Fine. Fine, two could play at that game.
I paused in front of the mirror. My hair was wild, my curls springing in all directions, and my eyes were no longer dark but gave away the lioness within. I smiled at the sight, loving the feeling of power I felt whenever I thought of my new form. My skin had a strange golden sheen to it, but as I moved closer to the mirror, it faded. I opened my mouth and found normal human teeth. I willed my fangs to form, but nothing happened. I closed my eyes and remembered Jack only an hour before, his hands on my hips, pulling me against him, so he could drive himself deeper inside me. I remembered the feeling of his hot skin against mine, his lips trailing down my throat, and the taste of his blood as I bit into him just as he found his release...
I opened my eyes and looked back at my reflection. As I ran my tongue over my lips, I felt the tingle as my fangs slid down into place, pearly white and sharp as razors. I reached up and touched my fingertip to each one. The second nicked my skin, and a drop of blood welled up. I sucked my finger out of habit, tasting my own blood. A memory surfaced in my mind. A bed... no, rugs, and a pile of cushions inside a large tent hung with embroidered panels. A tangle of limbs, brown, white, and black, and the scent and taste of blood that flowed as freely as wine.
My lips parted, and I breathed in sharply as heat and hunger flared inside me. I’d drunk my fill from Jack the night before and this morning, and I couldn’t ask him again, but the hunger gnawed at me. I could have asked West, but I gritted my teeth. I’d rather starve than get close to him again. Fury reared once more, and I whirled around, picking up the shopping bags and dumping the contents on the bed. He had good taste, and he clearly knew my size. I dressed quickly, taming my hair into a sleek chignon with the products I found in the third bag. I slipped my heels on and looked back into the mirror. The wild lioness was gone. I was back to being Lady Victoria again, and the thought made me cold inside. A glint of gold hanging between the white edges of my shirt drew my eyes, and I unbuttoned the shirt a little more. With my cleavage on display, the Eye of Ra hung just above my breasts, reminding me of the powerful beast within. If West thought he had won, he’d better think again. If he thought I was going to live my life in a pretty cage, he was wrong. Dead wrong.
Two
TORY
Westhadbeenutterlyserious about getting me out of the country. He hadn’t even bothered to book us regular seats on a flight out of Cairo. No, someone had called in a favour and now we were twenty thousand feet up in the air on Daddy’s friend’s private jet. I sat staring out of the window as the desert rushed past below us, feeling oddly lost and adrift as we left Egypt behind. After what I’d been through at Bubastis, I had a real need to see my parents, to hug them close and tell them how much I loved them, but leaving the place that had called to me for so long felt wrong. I toyed with my necklace, the gold pendant hanging just above my cleavage, wondering how long it would take for all of the memories to come back, or if they ever would. Surely the human brain could only hold so much. We forgot most things that happened in our day-to-day lives because of the capacity for memory storage, so surely when someone had several lives to remember there would be even less chance of remembering things.
A tray appeared above my right shoulder, and I looked up to see not the cabin crew, but Zayn. Two cups of coffee sat on the tray. I took one, and he sat down with the other in the empty seat across from me. West and Jack were in a small private cabin near the cockpit door, looking at plans of something on Jack’s phone, and Wesley was sitting near the bathroom, appearing decidedly queasy. I had tried talking to him before, but it became apparent that he really needed to concentrate on keeping our rather large breakfast down. Zayn lowered himself into the seat with a feline grace that seemed more apparent in his human body than in the others’. With his dark skin and hair, he reminded me more of a black panther than a lion—sleek like velvet but with an air of danger and an awareness that he could pounce at any time. I wasn’t sure whether this should make me feel more wary than turned on, but I liked his edge. I looked across at him as he sipped his coffee, and his eyes met mine, dark and captivating. I raised my own cup to my lips, unable to look away, and I barely registered the scalding liquid on my tongue, remembering instead the heady, spicy taste of his blood. The intensity of his gaze was stronger than I’d felt before, and my breath caught in my throat.
Pain seared over my chest, and I gasped as I tipped the cup upright. “Shit!” I exclaimed. I’d literally tipped my coffee onto myself because I’d been so fixated on him.
Then he was there, kneeling between my legs, his dark hair inches from my chest. One hand deftly removed the cup from my fingers and placed it on the small coffee table behind him, while the other swiftly pressed a clean handkerchief against my chest, catching the coffee drips before they ran down onto my white silk shirt.
“Thank you,” I murmured, and he looked up at me, his dark eyes fixing once more on mine. This time, I was definitely aware of the rest of my body as he knelt between my thighs, his head level with my breasts. I felt a tingle of attraction run through me, heat building in my veins as his eyes dropped from my face to my nipples, which were now definitely standing out through my sheer blouse. The tip of his tongue snaked out and moved slowly over his top lip, and I watched, mesmerised.
“Oh no, not again!” I heard Wesley wail as he lurched towards the bathroom door. It clicked behind him, and a dark smile spread across Zayn’s face.
“We’re alone,” he murmured.
I swallowed, my mouth dry, wondering if he could hear my heart racing with that incredible hearing he possessed. “We are,” I agreed, hoping I sounded normal.
Zayn’s gaze dropped down to where he still held the handkerchief above my breast. He set it on the table then reached out with his other hand and slowly undid the top button of my blouse, pulling the two sides farther apart so he could see my cleavage and the lacy tops of my bra. “I missed some,” he said and bent down, his tongue swirling over my skin, licking up the droplets of coffee he’d missed. I sucked my breath in, holding it as his tongue dipped lower between my breasts. His hands rested on my thighs, urging them farther apart.
“Zayn!” I gasped, my eyes roving over the cabin to the bathroom door.
“He’ll be in there for ages,” Zayn murmured, undoing three more buttons and pulling the fabric aside to reveal the cups of my bra. His eyes flicked up to mine once more, as though asking for permission.
I should have told him no, to stop, that this was too fast and we’d only just met, but in all honesty, I really didn’t want to. The guy had electric charm that seemed to spark whenever I was near him, and he was hot as fuck. And yes, a very small part of me wanted West to come out and catch us. I smiled and bit down on my lip, not quite knowing what to say, but he seemed to get the message. His lips fastened on my nipple and began to suck hard. I gripped the armrests as his other hand came up to cup my other breast, his fingers brushing gently over my nipple. Heat pooled in my belly, and I fought the urge to press my legs against Zayn’s body. His fingers dipped inside my bra, tugging the fine material below my breast, and I sighed as he rubbed his thumb over my sensitive flesh. His mouth took over, hot and demanding, and I arched my back, pushing my hips forward.
Zayn pulled back, and my eyes flew open as I felt his fingers move up my thighs and over the lace tops of my stockings to tug at the sides of my underwear. I lifted slightly so he could pull them down my legs. His eyes were fixed on mine the entire time, dark and full of passion and promise. I felt the material glide over my calves and heels. Every movement he made was slow and deliberate, teasing but also full of confidence. He was in no hurry and had no fear of the others walking in on us. I got the feeling if they did, he would simply carry on as if they weren’t there, and the image made me burn with desire. I slid my hands through his thick dark hair as he urged me forward on the chair. He slid one dark hand along my thigh, cupping my knee and lifting my leg over his shoulder, his mouth trailing along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I shuddered as he ran the tip of his tongue up the centre of my folds.
“Zayn,” I whispered.
He repeated the motion, dipping slightly deeper in, teasing me as he went. I gasped, arching my back and pushing my pussy against his mouth, but he leaned back. “Oh no, my beautiful one. I have waited years to taste you once again. I am not rushing this. I want to savour every taste.”
“But...” I trailed off as his tongue circled my clit. He wasn’t just tormenting me with words, he did exactly as he’d said. Slowly, methodically, he explored every part of me, licking and sucking me until I couldn’t bear it. His tongue drove me right to the edge again and again, never quite tipping me over. Desire rolled through me in burning waves. I wanted him so badly. I wanted his hard cock inside me, wanted his body pressed against me, his blood in my mouth. I wanted him fast and hard. I wanted him to make me scream, and I didn’t give a fuck who heard us.
Shifting his position, Zayn slid the tips of his fingers inside me, moving in and out, deeper every time. I gripped the armrests again, my nails sinking into the leather. I was almost afraid to touch him, in case I shifted and my claws hurt him, so I held the chair instead. They could bill me if I wrecked the leather. Zayn began to curl his fingers inside me, hitting my sweet spot over and over, and I felt a tremor begin deep inside.
“Zayn... Zayn, please...”
