Kissed by a Dark Prince (Eternal Mates Series Book 1) - Sample, Felicity Heaton [free ebook reader for ipad txt] 📗

one look at him and her gift had told her that he wasn’t mortal.

The hunters who had helped her bring him in had believed he had crawled to them or had made his own way to their doors. Sable didn’t believe that and neither did Olivia.

No demon or fae in their right mind would place themselves at the mercy of Archangel.

No. Someone had dropped this male on their porch and left him there, wanting Archangel to bring him inside. Why?

It could be a trap and it would be just her luck if it were.

“Specimen appears mortal. Markings on his skin appear fae possibly.” But they hadn’t captured a fae in years and he was nothing like the fae she had read about in the database or seen firsthand. “Specimen is male, estimated six-feet-six, one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. Black hair.”

Olivia inspected his stomach, pressing in to feel his organs. He felt human but something about him, something other than his mysterious markings, told her that he wasn’t. She peered closer at the severe wounds on his stomach and chest.

“Specimen appears to have advanced healing ability. Age of blood around the wounds is indicative of a recent injury, but the wounds in question are already closed and beginning to scab over.” Many demon and fae species had heightened healing. He could be any number of them. Olivia carefully pulled his upper lip back and studied his teeth. “No fangs. Canines appear normal.”

She drew back and something caught her eye. She parted the wild strands of his short black hair and traced the pointed tip of his ear. Was he a demon? They had pointed ears.

Olivia hovered over him, looking down at his handsome bloodstained face. She had never seen a demon as beautiful, mysterious, or deadly as he was.

Deadly.

She could feel it like an aura around him.

He was dangerous.

And waking up.

Olivia scooted backwards and reached for the call button on the wall near the head of the bed. She didn’t make it. His eyes slowly opened and she froze in mid-swing for the button, transfixed by them. They were incredible. She had never seen eyes like his. His irises were the most amazing shade of purple.

His gaze slid towards her but he didn’t move.

“What are you?” Olivia whispered it again as his eyes began to change, shifting to a normal shade of blue, and then his ears changed too, the points dulling until they appeared human. Adapting. He was studying his environment and her, and he was adapting.

It was incredible.

Fascinating.

She lowered her hand to her side and stared at him.

“Specimen appears able to blend into his environment, changing his appearance to conceal himself.”

She had never seen a demon do this. Many of them did it and she had heard the tales from the field agents, but she had never witnessed it.

“You are being held in a secure facility and no harm will come to you.” She hoped he understood English. His blue gaze narrowed with his frown, locked on her mouth as she spoke. Maybe he didn’t understand her.

He sat up in one fluid motion, swinging his legs over the edge of the inspection table, the movement so swift that it startled her and she shot backwards, distancing herself. Her heart thundered in her throat. She should have pressed the call button.

She should have strapped him down.

Stupid.

Her gaze darted to the red button off to her right. Could she make it there and sound the alarm before he attacked?

“Where am I?” The sound of his deep voice sent a fiery tremble through her. It was at odds with his lithe figure. The commanding edge to it had her forgetting the call button and automatically answering him, because he didn’t sound like the sort of man you could piss off and live to tell the tale.

“At a secure research facility in London.” She hoped he didn’t ask what she had been doing to him while he had been unconscious because now that he was awake, very awake, that sense of danger he radiated had only grown stronger. Her shot at resuscitating her ailing career looked as though he might kill her if he didn’t like any of the answers to his questions.

His blue gaze moved around the room, cataloguing everything, a keen edge to it. Strategising. He had adapted to blend into his environment and now he was plotting a way out of it.

“How did you do that?” she said, unable to get her voice above a whisper. His attention snapped back to her.

“How did I do what?” He could definitely grasp her language.

“Your eyes... your ears.” She pointed a shaky finger at them.

He planted his hands on the edge of the table on either side of his hips and she struggled not to look down. Her guest didn’t appear to have any qualms about being naked in front of a stranger. He sat on the table, frowning at the equipment in the room. His gaze caught on the wires attached to the machines and he followed them to his chest. He raised a single black eyebrow and pulled the sticky pads off his body.

“Strange to ask me how and not why,” he said at last and looked up at her through his long black lashes, his blue eyes holding a glimmer of curiosity.

“I’m a medical doctor... a scientist.” She pulled at the chest of her long white coat, drawing his attention to it.

He glanced at it and then back around the room. His gaze lingered on the tray of tools to his left, narrowed, and then slid to her. A threat. She had enough experience of the world to know when someone was silently threatening her. He didn’t intend to use the scalpels and other implements on her. No. He meant to warn her that if she dared to attempt to use them on him, she would come off worse.

Olivia held her hands up in front of her. “Listen, I’m just curious about your species, and the things you can do. I wanted to help you.”

He grimaced and his grip on the edge of the table tightened until his arms shook. He ground out dark words in a foreign tongue and paled further. The edges of his irises turned purple.

The heart rate monitor still linked to his finger went crazy. He scowled at the machine and tried to move to take the clip off. His hands trembled violently.

“You’re not well.” Olivia reached out to steady him, instinct telling her to help him. She caught his upper arms and gasped. He was burning up, shaking beneath her fingers, his skin clammy. “You need to rest.”

“I will be fine... with a little fluids.” Pain grated in his deep voice and he swallowed hard.

“I wasn’t sure what to give you.” Olivia pressed her palm to his forehead. A fever? Was it part of his healing process or was his condition deteriorating? “I wasn’t sure what would harm or help you.”

He leaned forwards and his breath skated over her bare neck. She shivered, a hot rush sweeping through her.

“I know what fluid I need,” he whispered low, his voice barely there and teasing, stirring unbidden heat in her veins and quickening her pulse.

“Tell me and I’ll get it.” She tried to draw back and his hands shot up, fingers closing tightly around her upper arms.

“Oh, you already have it.”

He struck hard on the left side of her throat and her eyes widened. Shock stole her senses for a second before reality came crashing back. He was biting her. He was drinking her blood. Dark memories surged to the surface and she fought his hold on her, struggling like a wild thing. She wouldn’t let it happen to her again. She shoved at his chest, clawing with her short nails, and pounded her hands against it, striking as hard as she could.

He pulled her against his chest, caging her there, his arms steel bands across her back, pinning hers between their bodies. She wriggled, desperate to escape him, fear pounding down on her and making her heart stutter. He was going to drink her to death.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and her head spun, wooziness threatening to pull her down into the darkness.

“Please,” she whispered, breathless and weak, barely clinging to consciousness as her panic and fear overwhelmed her. “Release me... don’t kill me.”

He immediately pulled his fangs from her throat and she crumpled, only his arms around her keeping her on her feet. His heart beat wildly against her palms, strong when hers was weak, a timid thing that barely beat at all.

Olivia managed to find the strength to look up into his eyes.

They were different again, amethyst and dazzling. He wobbled and shimmered, said something she didn’t hear over the whoosh of blood in her ears. Ears. His were pointed now, more so than they had been before. All his markings were shining too, colourful and beautiful.

Olivia wrestled her right hand free and absently raised it, the action seeming to take forever. She touched his bloodied lips and they parted to reveal his fangs. Her blood. He had stolen her blood. Her head turned and twirled, the bright white room spinning with it. He spoke again, his beautiful mouth moving against her fingertip. She stared dazedly at it, captivated, lost, feeling not quite herself in the presence of this man.

He continued to hold her, cradling her against his body, keeping her on her feet, and stared down into her eyes. His shimmered with something she couldn’t decipher through the haze in her mind. The fog refused to lift and part, even now that her strength was slowly beginning to return.

Olivia grazed the point of one of his fangs with her fingertip. He remained very still and she had the strangest feeling that he was letting her see him like this.

“You’re not... like any vampire... I’ve seen.” Her words swam in her head, disjointed. Was she making sense to him?

His lips quirked.

“Not a vampire,” he whispered and drew her closer, and her gaze lingered on his mouth. Decadent. Profane. A mouth made for kissing. She wanted to kiss him. Olivia shook herself. It was just the blood loss talking. He frowned, a flicker of concern in his purple eyes, and then his expression turned guarded again. “Perhaps I am a forefather of that species.”

He leaned down and she didn’t resist him. His cheek brushed hers, cooler now, and he licked her throat. The gentle sweep of his tongue over her flesh sent a shudder through her and the achy heat returned, making her skin feel too tight.

She lost herself again in that caress, each stroke of his tongue cranking her temperature up another ten degrees, until she was burning inside.

His words swam around her cloudy mind.

“Forefather.” She frowned and the fog began to lift, bringing with it too many questions, all of them centred around the gorgeous male clutching her against his naked body, licking her throat. “How old are you?”

He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes.

Alarms shrieked and the room spun in a blur across her eyes, and suddenly she was behind him, her bottom against the empty inspection table, and he was in front of her. He reached behind himself and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer to his back. Bottom. Oh my. She stared at it, blaming the blood loss for her shamelessness. He had a fine backside. The markings swept above it, meeting on his spine and drifting up his back to his shoulders.

She dazedly reached out to touch them.

The doors burst open and the man jerked her closer, smashing her against his back. She peered past him, touching him forgotten. Two men were there and she didn’t recognise either of them.

The men she worked with didn’t wear black armour like these men. It was like a second skin on their bodies, covering them from jaw to toe. Their helmets were fashioned to cover all but a V across their eyes and rose