Free Starry Knight by Nina Mason Page B

He clamped his teeth together hoping to thwart their emergence. If he remained in these close confines much longer, there was no telling what he might do.
    “You don’t look so good,” she said, eyes brimming with concern. “Is anything wrong?”
    Bloody hell. He couldn’t answer without revealing his pronounced canines. Lowering the window far enough to stick his head out, he sucked fresh air into his lungs. It was still raining, but not as hard. The fog, too, appeared to be clearing.
    Fuck it. He’d try to make the drive. He’d been playing with fire and had burnt his fingers. If he didn’t watch it, everything he cared about could go up in flames.
    He made up his mind. To hell with Sorcha’s ghost. He’d just have to put up with her. He’d indulge his Unseelie desires tonight and take Lady Vanessa back to John o’Groats in the morning. He’d make her forget him and, in time, he’d forget her, too. He’d only known her for a day, after all, and what was one day in the course of eternity? A mere blip he’d soon fail to recall like so much else.
    Starting the engine, he eased off the shoulder and onto the road. He switched on the wipers at full speed, but still couldn’t see much through the rain and fog. He leaned forward, squinting to see through the downpour.
    It was like driving through cellophane. He eased up on the gas, determined to take it slow. Inch by inch, if need be. The cliffs should be a wee ways up ahead. If he was careful, he ought to be able to make it around them all right.
    It didn’t help that the smell of her was wreaking havoc with his concentration. His fangs were all the way down and his mouth was watering like a hungry dog’s. He swallowed, keeping his lips sealed tight. He hadn’t felt so close to the edge since, well, since he’d awakened in her room that morning. He should have taken her then and there instead of waiting so long. He was usually good at waiting, but something in her blood called to him like a siren bent on his destruction.
    He’d reached the end of his tether. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He had to clear his head, to get away from her intoxicating scent, to get out of this bloody car. Fresh air in his lungs and rain on his face would soon set him to rights. He stomped on the brake. The Land Rover lurched to a stop. He grabbed the door handle and pulled.
    As he started to jump out, she seized his arm. “Where are you going?”
    Tearing his arm from her grasp, he vaulted from the car. He walked down the road, not caring that he was getting soaked. He just prayed the night air would restore his senses. He still felt lightheaded, his fangs were still out, and his balls throbbed like an abscessed tooth. He stopped when he could no longer smell her, grabbed his knees, and started sucking in breaths. He tensed when he heard her coming up behind him.
    “Go back to the car.”
    “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
    “Go back to car, Lady Vanessa,” he said more gently.
    Heedless of his request, she stepped up behind him and ran her hands over his lower back. Christ Almighty, she was headstrong, to her own bloody peril.
    “I want to help.”
    She swept her hands across his shoulders, pushing him to the edge of reason. He opened his mouth to order her back to the car, but the words wouldn’t come. He spun around. As his gaze fixed on the pulsing vein in her neck, his teeth ached to penetrate her flesh. His cock ached, too, with the urge to penetrate elsewhere.
    “Go,” he said, spewing the word.
    Stepping up to him, she touched his face with a tenderness he’d never known. The blood racing through the sweet blue artery on her wrist called to him. His nostrils flared, drinking in the tantalizing bouquet of her highborn blood.
    “Go back to the car,” he said again, praying she’d obey this time. “I get panic attacks sometimes and need some air. I’ll be all right if you give me a minute alone to collect myself.”
    * * * *
    Talking of