He hissed, burying his face in the soft cloud of her windswept hair.
“You’re my mate.”
“No.” She sucked in a shaky breath, her eyes dark with a need she couldn’t hide. “It’s an illusion.”
He lowered his hand from the temptation of her breast, but he kept his arms firmly around her.
She wasn’t going to disappear again.
Not even if he had to handcuff her to his side.
He swallowed a low growl.
Having Sally and handcuffs in the same thought wasn’t doing a damned thing to help him gain control of his raging libido.
“It doesn’t feel like an illusion, does it, my love?” he murmured.
“It’s not real.” She licked her lips. “It can’t be real.”
Logically Roke agreed.
Physically? Not so much.
His body was ready and eager to accept that she was created to be in his arms.
His gaze shifted to the tempting curve of her neck, his fangs aching with a savage instinct to mark her as his own.
A damned shame that Styx had warned taking Sally’s blood might very well turn the mating from a magical illusion to a bond that couldn’t be broken.
Battling against his primitive urges, Roke was distracted by the whiff of granite as the gargoyle waddled back into view, his wings shimmering in the moonlight.
“I see the two of you have kissed and made up.”
He sent the pest an annoyed glare. “Go away, gargoyle.”
“No.” Sally shoved out of his arms, her face flushed and her eyes still dazed with their mutual lust. “He can help search the cottage for clues.”
His brows snapped together. “You run from me, but you’ll ask a three-foot gargoyle for help?”
She met his fierce disbelief without flinching. “Unlike vampires, gargoyles are sensitive to magic. He might find something that I’ve missed.”
“Oui, I am very sensitive.” Levet turned toward Roke, sticking out his tongue. “It is the reason women find me irresistible.”
With a flick of his tail, Levet waddled toward the cottage. Roke clenched his hands.
So much for a little one on one time with Sally.
“Shit, that gargoyle needs a muzzle,” he muttered.
“He’s not the only one,” Sally informed him, turning to follow the tiny demon into the cottage.
Roke briefly hesitated.
If he had any sense he’d get on his motorcycle and never look back.
Sally was right.
Magic was a vampire’s true weakness.