And even with her natural skills, she’d still been trained for years before being allowed to leave the secret compound.
Tracking, weapons, martial arts, psychological warfare, and the latest tech (including being able to hack into a military-grade computer system) had been drilled into her with brutal efficiency over the past fifty years.
But this damned Sylvermyst had kept her flat-footed and constantly one step behind him.
She wanted to believe it was some mystic fey crap.
After all, a vampire’s one vulnerability was magic, and since it was believed that the Sylvermyst had been banished along with their master, the Dark Lord, she’d never been taught what sort of nefarious tricks Ariyal might be hiding behind his too-pretty face.
It would explain how he’d managed to escape from an iron-lined cell after she’d captured him. And how he could catch her off guard to yank her through a portal and bring her to this godforsaken island.
And how he could claim her lips in a kiss that shut down her brain, as well as most of her higher motor skills.
His mouth was deliciously warm, demanding a response, and for a crazed moment she allowed the blinding pleasure to sear through her, the tips of her toes curling in her boots. It was only when she was actually swaying toward the hard temptation of his body that she was wrenched out of the strange spell.
Oh ... shit.
This wasn’t a spell.
It was good, old-fashioned lust that had sizzled between them since that first, jolting touch. Or perhaps it had been from the moment she’d caught his rich, earthy scent that was a combination of herbs and pure male power.
Not that the when or how mattered.
She might not have been trained to deal with dark fey magic, but she’d sure the hell been drilled in controlling her baser instincts.
Nothing like being skinned alive a few times to teach a young vampire to keep her mind on business.
With a low hiss, she jerked her head to the side, her fangs snapping toward his throat.
Ariyal cursed as he leaped backward, his stunning bronze eyes widening as he realized how easily she could have ripped open his flesh.
“ Damn.”
“Find someone else to play with, fairy,” she warned, eying him with a proud defiance despite the fact she was currently chained to the stupid wall. And oh yeah, that she had nearly melted into a puddle of need beneath his kiss. “I bite.”
“Sylvermyst,” he corrected, his gaze lingering on her swollen lips. “And I bite back.”
The thought of his perfect white teeth clamping onto her neck sent a dangerous thrill down her spine. Freaking fey. She clenched her hands at her sides, allowing her nails to slice into her palm. Pain was the swiftest means to regain command of her body.
“What do you intend to do with me?”
He smiled with wicked amusement at the ice edging her words.
“That depends on you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “You think I’ll barter for my freedom?”
He reached to run a slender finger down the curve of her neck.
“We’re about to discover, aren’t we?”
“Stop that,” she growled, baring her fangs.
“You don’t like to be touched?”
“I like it just fine.” She flicked a dismissive gaze over his indecently beautiful face. “Just not by you.”
“Lie,” he breathed, gently mocking her own ability to read the deceptions of others.