Free The NightMan by T.L. Mitchell Page B

towered over Caitlin with his tall statuesque body. He stood around six foot – two and muscular but not overly built like Adriel. His black hair was combed down smoothly against his head. The pronounced widow’s peak showed off clearly at the edge of his hairline. The gold tones in his green eyes changed, an indication that anger lingered in his cold heart. He had waited too long for her reply.
    Dorian’s patience was always thin, especially when it came to Caitlin. The time he had spent on her was more than he would have given anyone else. His own selfish desire for her made him wait as long as he had.
    The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I believe I asked you a question.”
    “I had something to do,” Caitlin snapped.
    “Usual?” The sandy blond-haired bartender placed a glass down.
    “Yes please.” Her soft softened.
    Dorian’s clasped his hand around Caitlin’s arm, swiftly he turned her around to face him. Caitlin immediately jerked away. Her eyes narrowed, sending him the familiar uninvited warning.
    “I have waited for you all night. I demand to know where you have been!” He growled, leaning closer to her face.
    “I don’t believe I can address your question properly when your hand is squeezing my arm so tightly.” Her gaze fell to his fingers.
    Dorian released a long sigh as his fingers fell away from her arm. He shoved his hand through the black tendrils of hair.
    His eyes narrowed as a hiss slipped through his teeth. “Damn it, Caitlin! Must we go through this every time?”
    “You have more than one woman to fill your needs. Where is Alessandra?”
    A look of disgust crossed Caitlin’s face as the mere mention of Alessandra‘s name slipped through her lips. Alessandra was nothing more than Dorian’s glorified bitch. She was at his beck and call whenever he wanted. Caitlin knew Alessandra loved Dorian, and at the best a faithful companion. Of course she would do what he asked of her. Yet, Dorian reserved no respect for Alessandra, no matter how she pleased him.
    “Alessandra is where she needs to be. You on the other hand…” He inhaled a quick breath. “Smell like one of those beasts! I swear to you Caitlin, if I ever find out you have submitted yourself to one of them I will kill you and then him.”
    “Dorian, you have no need to worry.” Her fingers reached down to her necklace. Slowly she lifted the cross in front of his face.
    Dorian grimaced then stepped away from her, leaving a substantial amount of space between them.
    That damn necklace, he cringed. He knew the necklace was as pure as she was. Untouched. It was his damnation, his curse. The blood red vile in the center of the cross was the blood of her ancestors. The few drops of blood created just enough of a protection around her so he would never be able to touch her unless she took it off. He knew better than to try.
    The painful memories from the first time he tried to remove it from her still haunted him. Immediately his hands balled into fists. One day he swore, he would have someone remove that damned thing for him. Even if it took him another one hundred years he would find a way. Caitlin was his and his alone to enjoy.
    He watched as Caitlin pursed her lips into a wicked smile,   and he knew she was aware that he feared more than just the cross. His hands bore the memory of the burn from when he tried to remove it from her. The fit of rage he had that one night terrified her. He paced the floor like a wild animal. Horrifying hisses and snarls erupted from him as he cursed her and her ancestors. Crimson red blood ran freely down his hand from the scalding burns made by the cross. He knew he had a right to fear it. It was her father’s only means of protecting her from him.

Chapter 2
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    The story behind Caitlin’s father and Dorian was a rather tragic tale. The memory of the legend still haunted Caitlin, something she would never forget. Her ancestors were bound to Dorian through the fatal