Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,4

down the street. Away from the nearby alley. He was hiding something.

Tugging free – though in effect he let her go – Esme strode to the mouth of the alley and peered down it curiously.

There was a couple pressed against the pitted brick wall. The whore’s skirt was tucked up as a sign of availability; her profession’s calling card. Tangled blonde hair tumbled down her back as she threw her head back with a gasp, the long smooth column of her throat gleaming pale in the cold afternoon light. Her arms curled up around the man’s back, her nails biting into the thick muscle of his shoulders. Unconsciously, the woman pressed against him, her hips grinding against his as if it felt good, so good – and the part of Esme that had once been Blade’s thrall knew exactly how that felt. Blood fired through her body, a hot flush of need. Then she saw the metal gleaming as rough steel fingers slid up the woman’s nape, clenching in her hair as he held her still. The familiar harshly-cut features that had earned him a fierce reputation. Features she’d often stared at when she thought he wasn’t aware of it. Dreamed of running her lips over…

Rip.

His mouth trailed over the woman’s throat, lips still glistening with blood. Heat rushed out of Esme’s face and down her neck, as if her heart was constricting in her chest and drawing all of the blood in her body into a small, clenched fist beneath her lungs. She took a step back and stumbled on something. Catching her balance, she saw Rip’s head jerk up sharply, the all-consuming blackness of his pupils drowning out the colour of his irises. As if coming out of a daze his eyes locked on her. A harsh breath tore through his throat, his body rocking on the balls of his feet as if for one moment he made to move toward her.

“Rip,” the whore whispered, sliding a possessive hand up his throat and turning his face back to hers. She shivered and gave a breathy little laugh. “That feels amazin’. Never thought I’d say it, but you want more?” She licked his throat. “’Cos I’ll tup you fer free.”

A fist of nausea crawled up Esme’s throat. Staggering backward, she dropped her basket and clapped a gloved hand to her lips. She had to get away. Before she could hear what his answer would be.

Turning she bolted straight into Will’s hard body, her fingers curling blindly in the heat of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she blurted, the world spinning around her.

Will’s hand curled around her arm. “Steady there, Esme.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “I got you.”

Bending low, he scooped up her basket and tucked her in close against his body. She needed it. Her knees were threatening to give out beneath her, a throb of white-hot anger searing away the hurt. The bastard. Don’t want no blood o’ yours, Esme. I prefer it cold, out of the icebox.

All this time she’d thought him afraid to take it fresh from the vein. They’d agreed – her and Blade – that it was best to let Rip learn to control himself by drinking his blood cold. He’d been so badly injured when he’d been infected… Without his own natural resilience, the craving virus had hit him hard and they’d virtually had to chain him in his room for the first month to stop him from tearing through the rookery after blood.

Esme had been patient. Six months ago, when Blade carried him in, crimson dripping from his throat and abdomen…she’d thought she’d lost him. It didn’t matter if she had to wait for him to leash the hunger. She would. In her head, she’d always known that one day he would gain control and then he would need to take a thrall to keep the craving at bay.

She’d had some insane notion that he might finally turn to her, after the last few years when he’d gone out of his way to keep a friendly distance. A foolish hope.

And all this time, he’d been out getting blood on his own. Taking from… from whores on the street, when they wouldn’t even know the basics of how to deal with him when he was in the throes of the hunger. The selfish, arrogant bastard. Not only was it dangerous but it was downright insulting. Her teeth ground together furiously.

“You all right?” Will asked, his voice sounding as though it came from a