Dark Enemy_Taken Read online

  Stupid. Blind. Deaf.

  Members of the brotherhood of the 'Devout Order Of Mortdh' were brainwashed to hate women and believed them to be inferior and unworthy. It was sad, really, how easy it was for Navuh and his propaganda to affect not only his followers, and not only the male population of the regions under his control but also the women living there. They succumbed to the same beliefs, accepting that they were inferior, that being abused was their due, and that that was what their God wanted for them.

  The poor things didn't know any better.

  If a girl heard all throughout her life that she was worthless, and her education was limited to basic literacy at best, she was going to believe it, buying into the label she'd been given and perceiving herself that way.

  Thinking back to her own youth in Scotland and even later in their new home in America, the situation for women had been only slightly better. Though they were not as badly mistreated as their counterparts in Navuh's region, the prevailing attitude, sadly, had been similar up until recent times. Women had been considered not as smart and not as capable as men, but at least their mothering and homemaking skills had been appreciated. For most of her life, women had accepted these beliefs as immutable truths, treating the few that had tried to rise above them as bad mothers, misguided individuals, and an undesirable influence on their daughters.

  Thank heavens this was changing. There was still discrimination in the workforce, with men getting better pay and faster promotions, but at least the West was on the right track.

  Oh, well, her mother and the rest of their clan did what they could. But where Navuh had his clutches deeply in the hearts of mortals there was nothing to be done.

  They were lost souls.

  As was Dalhu.

  The guy struggled against what he was, though, she had to hand him that. But could he break free after the centuries of brainwashing he'd suffered?

  As a scientist, Amanda knew there was no hope for him. But as a person, as a woman… well… hope was for children and fools—as Kian was fond of saying.

  She wasn't a child… so that left being a fool…

  Still, hopeful or not, how was she going to get the guy disillusioned with her without getting him so enraged that he would chop her head off?

  Dalhu was unstable, going from rage to affection in a heartbeat, and she was afraid of what he'd do if she told him the truth about whom he was planning to spend his life with.

  Perhaps the smart thing to do was to bide her time and wait to be rescued.

  But how would anyone even know where to look for her?

  Damn. What to do… what to do…

  Wait… but what if she let Dalhu have her…

  Just so he wouldn't kill her… of course…

  That wouldn't count as her going to him willingly, would it?

  And if she didn't suffer horribly in the process… well…

  Now that she’d come up with a semi-moral excuse for sleeping with the enemy—if it became necessary, that is—her mood improved, and she hurried to finish soaping, shampooing, and conditioning before Dalhu got tired of waiting and decided to jump in the tub with her.

  Having the option didn't mean she should court that particular outcome, did it?

  She finished drying off with the cheap, coarse towel and wrapped it around her body with a grimace. It was way too short, barely covering her butt.

  Clutching the shitty towel so it would cover at least her nipples on top and the juncture of her thighs on the bottom, she walked out of the bathroom.

  "Not a word, Dalhu. Not a fucking word…" she hissed at his ogling smirk, the cuss word feeling foreign and vulgar on her lips.

  He arched a brow but said nothing. Grabbing a pair of grey sweats, he tore off the price tags and ducked into the bathroom she'd just vacated.

  There was another set of sweats folded on top of the bed… pink… and plain cotton panties… also pink…

  Her lips twisted in distaste. "Oh, goody, that must be for me."

  With a quick glance behind her, she made sure the bathroom door was closed, or as well as it could be, before dropping the towel. With a sigh, she reluctantly shimmied into the cheap panties and then pulled on the shapeless, polyester-blend sweats.

  Her bare skin had never before touched anything as disgusting, and a glance at the mirror hanging over the bathroom door proved that she'd never before wore anything as ugly as this either.

  She looked positively… well… blah.

  The good news was that no one she knew was going to see her in this humiliating getup. Unfortunately, though, she was pretty sure that it didn't make her look ugly enough for Dalhu to lose interest either.

  The bad news was that she had no idea how she was going to sleep with the horrible synthetic fabric irritating her skin. And sleeping naked was not an option—even if she made Dalhu sleep on the couch downstairs.

  Sifting through the bags, she found the bedding she’d had him bring from the store. One scratchy sheet went over the naked mattress, then pillowcases over the two pillows, and another sheet under the comforter that, surprise, surprise, was also made from polyester…

  Had there been nothing else in that store? Or had Dalhu chosen the worst stuff to torture her with…

  Well, payback is a bitch.

  Grabbing a pillow and a woven blanket, she hurried down the stairs and dropped them on the couch. The thing was too short for Dalhu's huge body, and hopefully, it was lumpy as well…

  "Sleep tight… hope you get lots of bedbug bites…" she singsonged as she walked over to the kitchen.

  The food supplies Dalhu had stolen from the store were on the floor, still in their paper bags, and as she began taking the stuff out and arranging it on the counter, her spirits sunk even further. Apparently, Dalhu's idea of nutrition was mostly canned meat, canned beans, a few cans of vegetables, sliced white bread, and peanut butter.

  The only thing to brighten her mood was a can of ground coffee, but only momentarily—there was no coffee maker.

  Putting together a peanut butter sandwich was something even she could do, but making coffee without the benefit of a coffeemaker was above the level of her meager culinary skills.

  A quick search through the cabinets yielded nothing more exciting than some pots and pans, but at least, thank heavens, she found a can opener.

  Scooping some of the coffee into a pot, Amanda filled it with water and turned on the electrical stove. Trouble was, she had no idea what the ratio should be, or if it was even possible to make stovetop coffee.

  Hopefully, it would be drinkable…

  She was desperate for it.

  As she arranged the rest of the supplies in the cabinets, the aroma wafting from the cooking coffee smelled delicious, and once it looked like it was done, she poured it into two cups and began making peanut butter sandwiches for Dalhu and herself.

  CHAPTER 4: DALHU

  Dalhu glanced at the ridiculously short sweats he'd pulled on after showering. The sleeves reached a little below his elbows and the shirt's bottom barely covered his bellybutton. He'd pulled and tied the waistband string as tight as it would go, but it was still too wide and the pants kept sliding down. The fucking double X must've been about the girth, not the length.

  And it wasn't as if Dalhu was worried about flashing a pair of boxer shorts. He wasn't wearing any. He'd forgotten to include them in his supply procurement…

  For a moment, he considered changing into one of the fancy designer jeans that he'd purchased at that Rodeo Drive boutique. The faggot salesman had insisted that they made Dalhu's ass look fabulous…

  Fortunately, for the bastard, he'd been so helpful and pleasant before the ass remark that Dalhu had decided to let him live…

  Had it been only this morning?

  So much had happened since that he felt as if it had happened days ago.

  How much had he paid for those jeans? A thousand? More?

  At least he'd paid with a credit card and not cash. On the run, t
he card was useless and he was low on cash. He kept the card, though, just in case. Hopefully, the Brotherhood's bureaucrats wouldn't cancel it anytime soon.

  The designer clothes he'd spent so much money on wouldn't be used for their original purpose, though, and the custom suit he'd ordered would remain unclaimed.

  The only reason he'd needed those obscenely expensive clothes in the first place was to go hunting for the males of Amanda's clan in the lucrative nightclubs they frequented.

  But he'd left that part of his life behind.

  Hopefully, it wouldn't come chasing after him.

  The reinforcements Dalhu had asked for were due to arrive any day now. Navuh was sending a large contingent this time, and he had no doubt someone higher up in the organization would be leading them. Dalhu had been a commander of a small unit—there was no way he would've been left to head the operation, regardless of the fact that discovering Annani's clan elusive trail had been his achievement.

  Whatever, it was of no consequence, he had abandoned the Brotherhood and its questionable crusade for good.

  Heading for the staircase, he paused and looked at the two top windows flanking the fireplace. The exposed glass made him uneasy.

  All the other windows had shutters, which he'd closed, but those two at the top had none. If there had been a tall ladder he could've used, he would've taped or nailed bed sheets over the glass, but as he searched the cabin and the attached woodshed, the only ladder he'd found was too short.

  Those windows were a dead giveaway that someone was inside the cabin, and even though it was unlikely that anyone would be looking for Amanda out here in the mountains, Dalhu hated taking even that slight chance.

  He would have to insist on as little lighting as possible.

  With a curse, he jogged down the stairs, his scowl deepening as he took in the pillow and blanket the princess had prepared for him on the couch. Not for a moment did he entertained the notion that she'd intended to sleep there herself. But if she thought he would be a gentleman and cram himself into the thing, she had another think coming.

  Spoiled brat…

  A beautiful, sexy, spoiled brat…

  Standing barefoot at the counter, Amanda was a vision—looking amazing even in the plain pink sweats he'd gotten her. The pants waistband, which was clearly too wide for her narrow waist, was rolled over a couple of times over, and the loose pants hung low on her hips, allowing him a glimpse of the curve of her creamy white ass each time she bent.

  And she'd made coffee and sandwiches…

  Maybe there was hope for her after all.

  "You are beautiful," Dalhu breathed as he walked up to stand behind her and nuzzled her long, smooth neck.

  Surprised, she shivered before ducking sideways. "Cut it out, Dalhu," she bit out. "Sit down and drink your coffee. I hope you like it black and bitter because you didn't get any sugar or creamer."

  "That's so sweet of you, taking care of me like that," he said as he sat down and picked up the coffee mug.

  "Don't get used to that."

  As Dalhu took a sip, he barely made it to the sink in time to spit the thing out. "Are you trying to poison me, woman? What the hell did you do?" He rushed back to the table, grabbing a peanut butter sandwich and taking a quick bite to get rid of the gritty taste.

  "There is no coffee maker, okay? What did you expect?" The hurt expression on Amanda's face made it obvious that she didn't ruin the coffee just to spite him. Grabbing the pot by the handle, she dumped its contents in the sink, then braced her hands on the rim and dropped her head. Her delicate shoulders began trembling.

  Was she crying? Did he make her cry?

  Way to go, asshole…

  "Don't worry about it. I'll make a new one." He got behind her and tried to turn her around.

  A sob escaped her throat as she shrugged his hands off her shoulders. "Everything you got from that store is disgusting; the towels, the bedding, the clothes… everything… even the food. The bread tastes like cardboard and everything else is canned yuck. And now I can't even have a decent cup of coffee. It's just too much… I can't take it anymore…" She began sobbing in earnest.

  Dalhu felt helpless. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

  "Please don't cry. If you make me a list, I'll go and get you whatever you need. I'm sorry that there was nothing better at that general store… Oh, hell…" Forcing her to turn, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him—her cheek to his pec.

  She struggled, but he held her tightly against him, rubbing his palm over her heaving back until she gave up and sagged in his arms. Crying and sobbing into his sweatshirt for what seemed like forever, Amanda was killing him.

  And although he was well aware that the coffee was just the last straw that had broken this strong, amazing woman, the guilt of failing to provide for her, like he'd promised her he would, was eating him alive.

  As the sobbing subsided, he reached for a paper towel, and still holding her with one arm, handed her the thing.

  "Thank you." Amanda hiccupped and blew her nose into the towel. Pushing away from him, she threw it into the sink and wiped her face with her sleeve before glancing up at him. "I must be a mess. Red nose and blotchy eyes…"

  "You're beautiful. Always. In any shape or form." He dipped his knees to look into the blue pools of her eyes, wanting to kiss her so bad it hurt.

  She smiled a little. "You're just saying it to make me feel better…"

  "No, I mean it. Come, sit down, relax, and I'll make you a good cup of coffee to cheer you up." He led her to the dining table and pulled out a chair for her.

  "Good luck. There is no cream or sugar. So even if you manage to brew a decent coffee, I wouldn't like it."

  "Oh, but you've missed something when you put the cans away. We have some evaporated milk—it's both sweet and creamy."

  CHAPTER 5: AMANDA

  The coffee Dalhu had made turned out to be pretty good. And as hungry and thirsty as Amanda was, even the peanut butter sandwich was okay… well, edible… barely…

  "Feeling better?" Dalhu peered at her from across the table.

  "Much. Though I still hold you to your promise to get me everything I need."

  "To the best of my ability. Though don't expect me to drive all the way to Rodeo Drive to buy you clothes. I know you're used to luxury, and at some point, hopefully soon, I'll be able to provide you with whatever you want. But for now, you'll have to lower your standards a little."

  Amanda waved a dismissive hand. "At this point, I'll consider decent food and stuff not made from polyester a luxury."

  "Tomorrow, I'll take care of it. I promise."

  "Good."

  In the silence that followed, Dalhu obliterated the rest of the sandwiches while Amanda sipped on her second cup of coffee, observing him from under her lashes. He wasn't the most graceful of eaters, stuffing his mouth with huge bites, half a sandwich at a time, and crumbs littered the table all around him. Still, it didn't bother her as it should have.

  Usually, poor eating manners would immediately disqualify a guy from having a chance with her, but Dalhu wasn't just any other guy. For some reason, she thought he looked manly eating like a hungry beast, and instead of turning her off, his bad table manners were turning her on.

  Damn, she was evidently so horny that anything and everything was a turn on. She'd better get away from this hunk of a male before her resolve faltered and she jumped his bones.

  The intensity with which she craved Dalhu wouldn't have been surprising if she had gone without sex for several days, but after only one? The night before the fateful lunch that had led to her abduction, she had been with two different guys in a row. It should've kept her sated at least for a couple of days.

  Yeah, but they weren't Dalhu. An immortal male with an amazing physique, and fangs… Damn, the memory of that bite… it had been so erotic… Shit, think of something else, quick before he scents my arousal… Famine, war…

  Amanda breathed out as
the sad images did their job. "Well, I'm beat. I'm going up to bed. Good night, Dalhu." She pushed away from the table.

  "You really expect me to sleep on that sofa?" Dalhu got up and took the dirty dishes to the sink.

  "Yep." She headed for the stairs.

  "Wait…" He followed behind her. "What if I promise to stay on my side of the bed like a good little boy? To make me sleep on that couch is a cruel and unusual punishment."

  The big, bad Dalhu was eyeing her hopefully, but she had no intention of sleeping with the guy. Because one thing was sure, as horny as she was, if he got in that bed with her, she had no doubt they'd end up doing way more than sleeping.

  "As I see it, you deserve a cruel and unusual punishment for kidnaping me and dragging me out here, and then torturing me with polyester."

  Dalhu heaved a defeated sigh and hung his head for a moment, but then lifted it a little to look at her with a naughty smirk. "Okay, but I want a kiss. Just one kiss, and I promise not to take it any further. A little reward for my gentlemanly sacrifice."

  Oh, hell, one kiss. He was asking for just one kiss. Amanda wanted so much more than that…

  Except, even though Dalhu had promised not to take it any further, Amanda was afraid a team of horses wouldn't be able to hold her back…

  Oh, what the hell…

  "Okay," she breathed and closed her eyes, tilting her head up.

  His lips were incredibly soft and gentle as he brushed them against hers. Cupping her cheek with a tender palm, he kissed her, just a light stroke of mouth on mouth with hardly any pressure behind the contact. So sweet. Innocent.

  A lover's kiss.

  But it was enough to send an overwhelmingly erotic shudder through her, and she fought the urge to pull him down and kiss him the way a man like him should be kissed… Hard.

  They both groaned, but it was Dalhu who pulled away first.

  "For the love of Mortdh…” he hissed, turning around in a futile attempt to hide the tent that had sprouted in his sweatpants. "Please, just go. I want you so much, it hurts…"

  Her eyes glued to the enormous erection he was trying to hide, Amanda was dimly aware that Dalhu was saying something.