Blood Lust

  PURE LUST

  Ignoring the whispers of warning in the back of her mind, Myst placed her hands on his chest, exploring the satin heat of his skin.

  “I want this,” she assured him. “I want you.”

  Myst’s breath tangled in her throat as his burning bronze gaze swept slowly over her naked body. Good Lord, he was spectacular. His shoulders were broad. His chest was sculpted and his abs formed a perfect washboard. He had a narrow waist and hips that led to long, muscular legs.

  It’d been so long.

  So painfully long.

  “I don’t know what you do to me,” she whispered.

  “I assure you the feeling is mutual, cara.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

  His words melted any lingering hesitation. Who knew what the future would bring? For tonight she wasn’t going to let it rule her.

  Easily sensing the last of her barriers had crumbled, Bas bent his head to brand her lips in a kiss that demanded utter surrender. . . .

  Books by Alexandra Ivy

  Guardians of Eternity

  WHEN DARKNESS COMES

  EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

  DARKNESS EVERLASTING

  DARKNESS REVEALED

  DARKNESS UNLEASHED

  BEYOND THE DARKNESS

  DEVOURED BY DARKNESS

  BOUND BY DARKNESS

  FEAR THE DARKNESS

  DARKNESS AVENGED

  HUNT THE DARKNESS

  WHEN DARKNESS ENDS

  The Immortal Rogues

  MY LORD VAMPIRE

  MY LORD ETERNITY

  MY LORD IMMORTALITY

  The Sentinels

  BORN IN BLOOD

  BLOOD ASSASSIN

  BLOOD LUST

  Ares Security

  KILL WITHOUT MERCY

  Historical Romance

  SOME LIKE IT WICKED

  SOME LIKE IT SINFUL

  SOME LIKE IT BRAZEN

  And don’t miss these Guardians of Eternity novellas

  TAKEN BY DARKNESS in YOURS FOR ETERNITY

  DARKNESS ETERNAL in SUPERNATURAL

  WHERE DARKNESS LIVES in

  THE REAL WEREWIVES OF VAMPIRE COUNTY

  LEVET (eBook only)

  A VERY LEVET CHRISTMAS (eBook only)

  And don’t miss these Sentinel novellas

  OUT OF CONTROL in PREDATORY

  ON THE HUNT in ON THE HUNT

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  BLOOD LUST

  ALEXANDRA IVY

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  PURE LUST

  Also by

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  KILL WITHOUT SHAME,

  Teaser chapter

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  It had been over a century since the high-bloods revealed themselves to the norms.

  In that time they’d established Valhalla, the main compound for the high-bloods, and built it smack-dab in the middle of the United States, as well as several satellite compounds around the world.

  It was a way to try and convince the mortals that the witches, healers, psychics, necromancers, telepaths, and clairvoyants were just like them . . . only with special powers.

  And that the monk-trained warriors called the Sentinels could be trusted to maintain order among the high-bloods.

  What they didn’t bother to share was that there were several high-bloods with rare, sometimes dangerous powers who were kept hidden from sight. And that while the guardian Sentinels—who were covered in intricate tattoos to protect them against magic—and the hunter Sentinels—who remained unmarked to be able to travel among the people unnoticed—had been revealed along with the other high-bloods, there was another sect of warriors . . . the assassins.

  The faction of ruthless killers had been disbanded years ago, but a few had managed to survive.

  And a rare few had managed to prosper.

  Chapter One

  Bas had retreated to his penthouse suite in the luxury Kansas City hotel after fleeing from the clusterfuck that recently destroyed his highly profitable business.

  Not that he gave a shit about the money.

  He had enough wealth stashed in various properties around the world to last him several lifetimes.

  And he gave even less of a shit about ending his role as the leader of a renegade band of mercenary high-bloods who defied the laws of Valhalla to sell their various talents for an indecent price.

  It’d been fun, not to mention highly profitable, to create his merry band of misfits, but he’d made more than his fair share of enemies over the years. A fact that had come back to bite him in the ass when a former employee had kidnapped his precious daughter and used her as leverage to try and gain control over a volatile high-blood who could have started Armageddon.

  Now all he wanted to do was find someplace safe to raise Molly.

  He could, of course, have gone underground. Keeping a low profile was easy for a man who had his talent for altering his appearance. But he wasn’t going to drag Molly from one seedy location to another.

  She needed love and peace and stability in her young life.

  Things he fully intended to give her. Once he figured out how to avoid being arrested and thrown into the dungeons of Valhalla.

  He was in the process of plotting his future when he heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

  He turned to watch Molly enter the salon, her stuffed hippo, Daisy, clutched in her arms.

  Joy pierced his heart as he studied his daughter’s sleep-flushed face surrounded by her silvery curls. Christ, he still got up a dozen times a night to make sure she was safely tucked in her bed. Molly, on the other hand, barely seemed to remember her time as the witch’s captive. Thank God.

  “What are you doing out of bed? Did you have a bad dream?”

  She flashed a smile that could light up the world. “Mama called me.”

  Bas swallowed a curse. Molly often spoke about Myst. Almost as if she was a constant companion instead of the woman who’d given birth to her and then promptly disappeared.

  “Called you?” He gave a teasing tug on a silvery curl. “On the phone?”

  She giggled, the dimple he loved appearing beside her mouth. “No silly. In my head.”

  “It was a dream,” he gently assured her.

  Her bronze eyes, which perfectly matched his own, widened. “No. It was real.”

  “Molly.”

  “She talks to me all the time.”

  Bas bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell his daughter that five years ago he’d had a one-night stand . . . no, it hadn’t even been that.

  Myst had come into his office, desperate for a job. She’d claimed to be a clairvoyant, but she hadn’t been capable of providing even one reading of the future.

  He hadn’t had much choice but to tell her that h
e didn’t have a place for her on his payroll.

  Not only because she didn’t bring the skills that could make his business money, but because he’d been rattled by his intense reaction to her fragile beauty.

  He was nearly three centuries old. He’d had countless lovers. Some had been passing acquaintances, some he’d enjoyed for several years.

  But none of them had ever come close to making him a conquest.

  Which was why he hadn’t been prepared when Myst had stepped into his office, nearly bringing him to his knees with the force of his instinctive, gut-wrenching desire.

  Even now the memory of her beauty haunted him.

  Her pale, exquisite face that was dominated by a large pair of velvet-brown eyes. And the long, silvery blond hair that looked as if it was spun silk.

  She was danger. Pure female danger wrapped in the warm scent of honeysuckle.

  Unfortunately, before he could get rid of her, Myst had caught him off guard when she’d burst into tears.

  He might be a bastard, but he’d been unable to toss a sobbing woman out on her ass. So instead he’d given her a good, stiff drink to calm her nerves. And then another.

  And the next thing he knew they’d been naked on his couch and he was lost in the spectacular pleasure of her body.

  Bas gave a sharp shake of his head, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks to touch the locket he’d carried for the past five years.

  He’d wasted too many nights recalling just how good it’d felt to have Myst pressed beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

  The only thing that mattered was that she’d disappeared from his office the second his back was turned. And then, nine months later, slipped through his security to abandon Molly in his private rooms.

  What kind of woman did that?

  “Okay,” he murmured, fiercely attempting to disguise his opinion of Myst. “What does she say?”

  “That she has something she has to do, but she misses me,” Molly said. “And that soon we’ll be together again.”

  “I don’t want you to be disappointed if she can’t come,” he said gently. He tenderly smoothed her silken curls. “You have me. And I’m never going away.”

  “But she is coming.” Molly bounced up and down at the sound of the door to the suite being opened. “See? I told you.”

  Bas surged upright, his hand reaching for the gun holstered at the small of his back.

  What the hell? How had an intruder gotten past his security system?

  “Molly, go to your room.”

  “But it’s Mommy.”

  There was the unmistakable scent of honeysuckle drenching the air before a silver-haired female stepped into the salon, her yellow sundress swirling around her slender legs. Bas hissed, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut.

  Christ.

  She was just as beautiful as ever.

  Perhaps even more beautiful.

  “Myst.” The name was wrenched from his lips.

  Her delicate features were impossible to read. “Hello, Bas.”

  He gave a shake of his head, trying desperately to dismiss his potent, intoxicating response to the sight of her.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Her gaze shifted to the tiny girl standing beside him, a luminous smile lighting her fragile features.

  “I’ve come for my daughter.”

  * * *

  Myst had learned to endure living in a constant state of terror.

  It wasn’t like she had a choice.

  For years she’d attempted to avoid her inevitable fate, always on the run, always looking over her shoulder.

  Stupidly, she assumed that she’d become so accustomed to her sense of dread that nothing could rattle her.

  Until five years ago.

  The day she’d first met the man who was standing in front of her like an angel of retribution.

  Not that she’d felt dread when she’d walked into his office. She only wished she had.

  No. If she wanted to be brutally honest, she’d tumbled into instant lust. Who could blame her? Bas Cavrilo was a stunningly beautiful male.

  His features were carved by the hand of an artist. A wide brow. A narrow, arrogant blade of a nose. Full, sensuous lips that hinted at a passionate nature beneath his stern facade.

  His skin was a pale ivory and satin smooth unless you counted the small eye-shaped emerald birthmark on the side of his neck, and the thin horizontal lines tattooed beneath it.

  In contrast his hair was as black as midnight and cut short to emphasize his male beauty.

  And his eyes . . . Lord, those eyes.

  A tiny shudder had raced through her at her first glimpse of the metallic bronze eyes that held a cunning intelligence.

  She’d felt as if something vital had been switched off in her brain. That would explain why she’d so recklessly chugged the scotch he’d offered after refusing to give her the job she so desperately needed.

  And then another scotch had been chugged....

  The next thing she knew she was giving in to the passion that had exploded between them with electric force. Once sanity had returned, she’d slipped away, hoping to put the crazed incident behind her.

  Of course, she couldn’t be so lucky.

  Instead she’d discovered that she was pregnant, and she’d learned the true meaning of terror.

  Now she licked her lips, her heart thundering like a freight train in her chest as she forced herself to meet the scorching bronze glare.

  “How did you get past my security?” Bas snapped.

  Before she could speak, Molly was darting forward, ignoring her father’s biting fury with the confidence of a child who knew that she was well loved.

  “Mommy, Mommy!” she cried.

  Myst fell to her knees, enfolding the wiggling bundle of sunshine in her arms.

  For a perilous second she closed her eyes, savoring the pure joy that briefly drove away the nightmares that were Myst’s constant companion.

  “Hey, baby,” she murmured softly.

  A shadow fell upon her as the tall, lethally dangerous assassin moved to tower over her. “I asked you a question.”

  She pressed her cheek to the top of Molly’s soft curls, staring at the original Renoir painting that was hung on a far wall.

  “I heard you.”

  “Then you have no excuse for not answering.”

  “You didn’t hire me, remember?” she muttered.

  There was a startled silence. “I remember everything,” he at last said, the words oddly husky.

  Myst shivered. Heavens. His voice was magic. Low, and whiskey smooth. Sometimes she woke in the middle of the night, imagining she could still hear him whispering words of pleasure in her ear.

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  He snorted, unimpressed. “And?”

  “And I don’t have to answer to you.”

  Tiny arms wrapped around her neck as Molly smacked a moist kiss on her cheek. “I missed you, Mommy.”

  Her arms tightened around her daughter, tears filling her eyes. “I missed you too, baby. More than you could ever imagine.”

  She heard Bas swear beneath his breath.

  “Molly, go back to your bed so Mommy and I can have a little chat.”

  “No, I don’t want to go to bed,” Molly pouted, burying her face in Myst’s neck. “I want to stay with Mommy.”

  “Molly.” The edge in Bas’s voice warned that he was at the end of his patience.

  Keeping her arms around the fragile little girl, Myst rose to her feet and carried Molly toward the door that led to the back of the suite.

  “It’s okay.” She brushed her lips over Molly’s forehead. “I’ll tuck you in.”

  Molly gazed up at her with shimmering bronze eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  Pain sliced through Myst. She’d known this was going to be difficult. But she hadn’t realized it was going to feel as if her heart was being ripped out.
<
br />   She forced a smile to her lips. This was for Molly.

  After everything her daughter had been forced to endure over the past week, a visit from her mother was the least she could do for her.

  “I’m not leaving,” she said, pretending to ignore the large male form prowling behind her like a panther shadowing its prey.

  The hair on her nape stirred, her mind urging her to flee as she walked down the short hall that led to two bedrooms. She chose the nearest, heaving a silent sigh of relief at the sight of the toys piled in the corner of the elegant black and gold room.

  The last thing she wanted was to accidentally intrude into Bas’s privacy.

  Not that she feared he would toss her on his bed and strip off her clothes. Her lips twisted. His expression when she’d entered the suite had revealed what he thought of her.

  And it was nothing good.

  But it would have been . . . unnerving.

  “You swear you won’t leave?” Molly pleaded as Myst crossed the lush black carpet to settle her daughter on the bed. “A pinkie swear?”

  She gently tugged the gold comforter over Molly’s tiny body. “I swear.”

  “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Bas growled from behind her.

  “We can discuss it later,” Myst muttered, concentrating on her daughter, who was snuggling into the mattress with her stuffed hippo pressed to her chest.

  Although they’d been in constant mental contact, she’d never had the opportunity to savor Molly’s delicate beauty or the pure innocence of her soul, which glowed around her with a golden aura.

  She was . . . perfect.

  And worth every sacrifice that Myst had to make.

  “Will you tell me a story?” Molly pleaded.

  Myst gently pushed a silver curl off her daughter’s cheek. “Of course.”

  Molly flashed her a dimpled grin. “I want to hear the one about the princess who saves the troll and he turns into a prince. That’s my favorite.”

  “Her favorite?” Bas growled, abruptly grabbing Myst by the arm to tug her away from the bed. “What’s she talking about?”

  Myst made a sound of impatience as they halted near the doorway. Okay, Bas had every reason not to trust her. She got that. She truly did.