His Mortal Soul Read online

  "Have you ever been with a woman?"

  Her interest in his sexual history ignited the flames of hell through every taut inch of his body. The heat not only put his soul at risk but also her very mortal life ... the repressed passion within him could burn through her flesh and claim her soul too. He swallowed hard.

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  Chapter 2

  In the safety of her dorm room, Sephora turned toward Kieran. His pensive expression concerned her. He'd yet to answer her question. Maybe he wouldn't respond. She wasn't ready for him to go. It had been over two years since she had felt drawn to a man. As she leaned against the door, his gaze darted to the handle. Was he contemplating his departure? Please, let that not be the case.

  To be this near him caused her mind to whirl. The good kind of dizzy. She had sensed him since the morning two weeks ago on the bridge. She felt him—under her skin. Somehow, he'd gotten into her through and through without ever touching her. She'd let a man into her room, her safe space, for crying out loud! Even stranger still, she had wanted to since the morning on the bridge.

  Her best friend Amanda had hoped she'd be interested in a man again. Sephora had been happy when the nightmares stopped. The damp cool temperature of Ireland had settled her restlessness, but the real scars were still inside.

  Moonlight streaked on his face from between the curtains, giving his features a dangerous beauty. The angles of his jaw were sharp. His broad shoulders obstructed part of the window. Her best guess was that he was a foot and half taller than her, possibly more. All she was sure of, was he made her feel protected. And now she had him in her room. Good thing she'd cleaned the mess up in here before she'd headed out. Picking something to wear had been an ordeal. She'd gone through her entire wardrobe before settling on the teal shirt and tight black pants. Dressing in a way that flattered her body didn't mean she was inviting sexual advances.

  "I've never been intimate with a woman, Ms. Silverman.” He cleared his throat and as he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles flexed.

  She smiled. “My name is Sephora.” The look on his face when she'd refused to provide it on the bridge still brought a smile to her lips. She'd been shocked to find someone out at dawn. The reason she liked being out then was because she could be alone. The tranquility on the bridge was one of the things she loved most about being there. Unlike LA, this town seemed to put itself to bed at night.

  "Sephora, beautiful bird in Hebrew and Silverman as a surname,” he said with a smile. “Are you of Israeli background?"

  She bet he was cocky. She laughed at the question. “My father is."

  "Ach, I see.” He nodded.

  It was that kind of seeing to him. He was aware that Judaism was passed on through the mother, not the father. He knew she wasn't Jewish though her surname might give some that impression.

  "And your mother?” he asked.

  It had broken her parents’ hearts when she'd told them she was going to Ireland. “She's southern Baptist.” Since Sephora's episode, as it was now referred to, the sadness in their gazes when they looked at her made her unable to forget or put what had happened behind her. Two years of hiding was long enough. She wanted her freedom back. Doing her Master's degree abroad would be an adventure. A chance for her to spread her wings and fly again. She'd always wanted to study abroad. The University of Ireland's Kildare campus had accepted her, and she'd done the same in return.

  "Ay, a mixed marriage.” With his knuckles, he rubbed his chin.

  That was one way of putting it. Was it still a big deal in Ireland to have a religiously mixed marriage? Hadn't the tensions and violence ended between Catholics and Protestants? “Trust me, that wasn't the most complicated part of the mix,” she said.

  The corners of his eyes softened. “I'm aware that in America, race can be more problematic than religious affiliation.” He nodded.

  Race could be more problematic? That was understating the last two to three hundred years of history in America. “What about for you? Is race more problematic?"

  "Not in the least.” His gaze moved over her, and he licked his lips. “Where does your faith reside?"

  If it wasn't race, it was religion or politics, of course. “I'm agnostic. I prefer facts, statistics, and science. Whatever faith I might have had was lost some time ago.” Maybe there was a God, but she knew little of him. However, she had come across true evil once.

  He frowned.

  He'd never had sex with a woman. Nothing he'd done demonstrated an interest in women. Other than the way he looked at her. There was something there, a spark. The school he attended was all men. Maybe he was into men. She'd be disappointed, but it was better she know before she made a fool of herself. “Have you ever been intimate with a man?"

  That she always got to the point couldn't be helped. Since what had happened to her, she didn't do anything without asking or stating the outcome. It often put others on the defensive, saving her from being in that role.

  "No.” His brow creased.

  He'd been much faster at responding to that question. There was always the possibility that he liked men, but couldn't act on it because of his beliefs. “Are you attracted to women?"

  "Yes, I'm attracted to you ... I mean women.” He closed his eyes and his complexion reddened. “But I'd never—"

  As he opened his eyes, she met his gaze. “You'd never what, break your vow of chastity?” Just because she couldn't prove or disprove the existence of God, that didn't mean she wanted to anger Him, or Her either. The man had kept his record unblemished until tonight and she was about to pull an Eve on him, offer him a taste of her forbidden fruit.

  "I've yet to make a commitment of abstinence. My parents were older. They had a lot of health challenges so I couldn't go out much when I was younger. If I was going to be intimate, I wanted it to be right—meaningful. The circumstance never materialized.” He sighed and his arms lowered to his sides.

  Cute, he was explaining his virginity to her. “You don't have to be embarrassed about never having been with a woman."

  "I'm not. Far too many people take their sexuality too lightly.” He exhaled heavily. “What I meant to say earlier was that I'm nothing like your date."

  "Patrick?"

  He nodded.

  "That jerk definitely wasn't my date. I haven't since...” Not the way Matt had been her date. His father was the director of the hospital and hers was a surgeon. She hadn't thought anything of him asking her to meet him at his parents’ beach house. They had been out on a few dates before. Matt was always so polite. But when she had arrived there, Alec, Matt's creepy friend, was there too. She had wanted to leave. Get out. Bail. It had been her own fault for not listening to the voice inside her. She hadn't told anyone where she was going, on Matt's instruction. The moment she'd tried to get away, they'd chased her, tackled her to the ground and when she'd begged, they'd laughed at her. When she'd fought back, Alec had carved a swastika into her thigh with the knife tip. A lesson for you to know your place, Alec had said to her while mutilating her. They'd robbed her of her own body. The only time she felt anything these days was when she crisscrossed a pattern with a razor blade over the branding the demon had etched in her flesh. She'd do anything to rid herself of those demons.

  Kieran collapsed to his knees. “Lord, guide me from the part of me that would seek vengeance.” He padded forward with his hands, and crawled.

  What caused his collapses?

  "Kieran?” Was he hurt from the altercation with Patrick? He'd lifted Patrick as though he were a ragdoll. It had to have been adrenaline. People didn't just do that kind of stuff.

  She rushed to him and placed her hand on Kieran's shoulder. Awareness moved through her body like electric current. Since what had happened to her, she'd couldn't tolerate being touched, let alone feel physical desire. But with him, she did. What about him caused this change in her?

  "How can you stand to touch me?” A stream of dark liquid trailed down hi
s cheek from his eye.

  She jerked back into the door. “I-I...” His eyes darkened with intensity. Misery strained his expression. She waited for him to say it. For him to lash out at her, to turn on her. Degrade. Belittle. She clenched her fingers into fists.

  "I have never thought I could want to kill.” His voice was gruff. “But I'd gladly squeeze the life from them."

  Them who? Did he mean her? It figured after everything she'd been through, everything she'd survived, that she'd die at the hands of some crazed religious nut. Yet despite his words, she wasn't afraid of him. Maybe she'd died inside that night, or maybe they'd taken her soul. Something about her had to be a magnet to those who would harm her. Her soul didn't feel fear as it had that night or when Patrick had turned on her.

  "How are you going to do it?” She hoped he'd be quick about it.

  "What?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes.

  "Kill me. How will you do it? It kind of seems merciful, if you ask me. For you to put me down. I'm just curious. A knife can be problematic. Blood. A lot of blood.” The mind numbing agony of the pointed end, then the letters n, i, g, g ... carved in her skin by her hip bone. She closed her eyes. She couldn't bear it. The racist slur, forever etched on her. “Suffocation maybe? The body fights, and it's erratic, but peace comes too soon."

  Kieran's arm quivered, his body slumped. “I could never hurt you, mo lon dubh. Never.” He staggered on all fours, placed his hand on the door behind her and moved his body upward along the surface, an arm on each side of her.

  She pressed her back into the door and her palms flat against it. Excitement, not panic, rushed from her head to the tips of her toes.

  The coolness of him whirled against her in bursts like gusts of artic wind. Yet being near him soothed her.

  "You are perfect.” He lifted his hand and paused, hovering over her cheek. “I should go.” His eyes filled with sadness.

  She wanted to know what his touch would feel like. To replace the hurt in his gaze with her. Was she grasping, or behaving desperately because of what had happened to her? The connection to him might be in her head. Then, why had he come to her aid? He could have kept walking. If he didn't feel the draw he had on her she'd soon show him.

  "Please don't...” Even if this was the last thing she ever knew on Earth, just once she wanted to taste her own true passion for another. Him. Tears blurred her vision. She gathered his large hand into both of hers and skimmed his palm over her cheek. His coolness ignited her flesh.

  He gasped. “And what, Sephora?” he asked. His tone had softened and his hand still cupped her face. “Tomorrow is my ordination."

  That meant he'd become a priest tomorrow. All she had left was this moment with him. “One night of bliss.” She leaned into his body. “Please ... I need to take back what was stolen from me."

  "And what's that, mo lon dubh?"

  Maybe if she told him enough he'd stay. If she told him too much he'd run. “My body.” She held her breath and waited.

  He slid his thumb slowly along the edge of her bottom lip. “You don't know what you are asking of me.” The intensity of his emotions cast shadows in his eyes. “I'm tainted—cursed. I don't want to put that upon you."

  It couldn't be worse than what she had already survived with those demons. She needed this with him. “I want to be consumed by you. By the power you bestow upon me with a mere gaze."

  "You are magnificent.” The coolness of his skin was just beyond her, working its magic.

  Delicious shivers shot upward from where he caressed her lip, bringing heat to her cheeks. “Don't make me beg.” The way Matt and Alec had forced her to, only to laugh at her. “Please.” Matt had held her down, letting Alec go first.

  Kieran bucked forward into her. “Sephora, stay with me...” he said against her neck. Awareness rushed over her skin, spreading in a hot, ever widening, deepening flood of sensation. “I'll never make you plead for what's already yours. All I ask is that you stay in the here and now with me. In this moment."

  What did that mean? Could he know what went on in her mind? That was impossible ... Wasn't it? “I'm here with you.” She wrapped her arms around him.

  He collected her hand in his, brought it to his mouth and nose then glided his lips along her sleeve. “You're scent is madness.” His eyelids opened. Black flickered in the centers of his eyes. “I don't think I'm meant to resist you. And, even if I am, I'm not inclined to if you'll have me, knowing what I am.” He parted his lips and his four eyeteeth elongated. The white teeth gleamed.

  She gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand. “A vampire.” Her words were more of a confirmation to herself than a question. Part of her had suspected he wasn't human. There was a gracefulness to his movements and a flawlessness that seemed more than humanly possible, but she didn't care. Even on the bridge that first morning they'd met there had been something about him. He was unforgettable. “Are you going to drain me?"

  "No. I haven't—I won't feed from humans.” He rubbed his temple.

  If she wasn't food, then what? “But you said you'd never wanted to kill before."

  "Not you. Never you. Freckle-face, for how he touched you. I wanted to squeeze the life from him and...” He straightened and met her gaze. “Do I scare you this way?"

  She shook her head. Monsters were real, but he wasn't one of them. “I've seen real demons."

  "What am I, then?” His blue eyes filled with pain.

  "A lost soul maybe, like me.” She cradled his hard body to her.

  As he exhaled, cool air blew on her neck. “Do you still want me to touch you?"

  Aside from their need for blood, she wasn't under the impression they were different in bed. Given he'd never had a lover, she didn't have anything to live up to. “Yes,” she confessed. More than anything she'd ever desired before. “Do you want this? I'm not innocent. I've..."

  How did she explain that she'd been violated without telling him? Men had breached her body but she'd never been intimate with a man.

  The desire needed to be mutual. She required that a man want her when she was willing. Not for him to want to take what she didn't want to give. Nor for him to get drunk off the power of her wanting him more than he did her.

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  Chapter 3

  Kieran held her, amazed by her strength and courage. Despite the images of what those two monsters had done to her, she approached him fearlessly.

  Not everything about his curse was bad. The heightened ability to see allowed him to pick up the red and yellow pigments of her brown skin. The warm rose color of her lips darkened when he was near, and he was eager to find out if much of the same occurred with her lower ones too. The scent of the cream there told him of her arousal. Another gift from his heightened senses.

  "Not this. You, mo lon dubh. I've wanted you since I set eyes on you at the bridge.” He lowered his voice. It was why he followed her. She spent most of her time alone. Except for in the last few days, she appeared to be trying to fit in.

  Those black eyes of hers drew him into her. With his thumb, he parted her lips. Her warm breath passed over his skin, rushing through his veins and to his cock. Every inch of him tensed.

  The tip of her tongue slid over and around his finger. “Mmm.” An instant blaze darkened her sinful eyes.

  He replaced his thumb with his lips and sucked in the taste of her breath, filling his lungs with the scent of fruit mixed with alcohol. The soft skin beneath his mouth ceded to the force of his need, yielding to him. She tucked her body into the shelter of his.

  "Mo lon dubh,” he forced out. Raw with need, he reached behind her thighs, lifting her into his arms.

  She spread her legs around his waist and met his tongue with hers. The sharp edge of her teeth dug into his tender flesh. Heat from her exhaled breaths engulfed him. He needed to keep control of the demon lurking within him. If it took over in a moment of surrender, he could hurt her.

  She rocked against the h
ardness of his length. The scent of sweet feminine arousal rose from between her thighs, her core.

  He could hear the blood pump through her body like a freight train, wanting him to intercept. At least, that was what the demon would have him believe.

  "Tonight is all I can offer, and all I'll ever have, so please let me take my time—savor every second of knowing you this way.” He carried her to the bed, and slid onto it with her beneath him.

  Never losing sight of his eyes, she nodded.

  "Say yes, Kieran,” he asked of her. It mattered that she chose to share herself with him. This had to be more than her seeking out a stranger, someone she believed knew nothing about what she'd been through. He wanted it to be about her wanting him as a man. A lover equal to her, able to mirror her passion. If not now, then by the end of the night, he wanted to earn her heart.

  The corners of her mouth curled upward. “Yes, Kieran."

  His cock jerked with anticipation at her words. He fumbled for the bottom of her shirt and tugged it up, exposing her rib cage and white lacy bra. Her dark, velvety-smooth skin contrasted with the pale material and the hard buds of her nipples pressed against the sheer fabric. Light from the window lit her eyes and illuminated the quirk at the corner of her mouth. What was she thinking? Did she worry he wouldn't know his way around a woman's body because of his lack of experience? He knew how to love a woman, the physical aspects one could learn on the internet.

  He knelt, lifted off his shirt and discarded it. Warmth from her body sizzled into him like the ocean's tide hissed upon the shore. He needed to have his flesh flush against hers. “Sephora, you are perfection.” He kissed between her breasts, downward to the waist of her pants.

  She pressed her weight into her heels and lifted her bottom. Using his fingers, he rolled down the skintight material, past her shoes and tossed it. With her dark thick thighs, she hugged his abdomen and sides. Her femoral artery rushed with blood. He pressed his thumb to the pulsing vessel. Lightning coursed through him. He forced his caress to the white lace covering the triangle between her legs.