Vampire Master: Vampire Queen Series: Club Atlantis

by Joey W. Hill

  Gideon let out another steadying breath, met Fort’s gaze. The vampire gave him a satisfied, grim nod. The most immediate concern was handled.

  The next steps would depend on what the bastard had done. Daegan’s message had not been only for Anwyn. It had also been a relay to the vampire with her.

  Lady Lyssa, the head of the Vampire Council, last royal member of the Far East clan, was waiting for them at Club Atlantis.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Wolf held Ella in his arms for the whole car trip to Atlantis. She held him back as much as she could, thinking he might need it, until he spoke in her head, a soothing caress.

  Let me take care of you, Ella. For once, I don’t want you to think about what you need to do for me, or anyone else. That’s an order from your Master.

  She couldn’t think of a time he hadn’t taken care of her, but she understood what he was saying. After not being able to get to her, stop what was being done to her, the ability to hold her, protect her, care for her, would give him back the balance he needed. By letting him do that, she was helping.

  While her thought process didn’t reflect full compliance with what he’d ordered, it was as close to it as she could get, since she hadn’t been able to get to him, help him, either. If she closed her eyes, she saw him being electrocuted relentlessly, heard the strangled anguish in his voice over those headphones. She was glad they’d burned up in the fire. But now that her mind had turned in that direction, she couldn’t shut it off. She couldn’t hear anything else but that discordant symphony of screams. It was making her lose her mind more than a bit.

  “Sing, little girl,” Wolf, murmured. “Like on Burlesque Night. Sing me a song.”

  Since her mind didn’t have any room to think of another song, she sang that same one to him, albeit in halting, broken tones where she drifted in and out of speech and sang it to him in her head. Bound to you… I am bound to you…

  At some point, she wasn’t singing the song, but chanting the words, as if the simple truth would hold her to him, keep her from being sucked into the nightmare of fire and pain.

  “It’s all right,” he murmured, holding her closer. She was sobbing, shivering. “I’ve got you. We’re all right. We’re okay. The fire can’t have you, Ella. It knows you’re mine.”

  “Blood,” she whispered, tipping her head back to look at him, even as she lifted her arm, her hand dropped back to fully expose the tender underside of her wrist. Please…drink. I need to feel you gaining strength from me. You’ll take care of me, I know it. Please take what I’m offering. Let me feel what I am to you…

  He didn’t want to make her weaker, but the plea in her voice, the way she was struggling to hold her arm up, told Wolf this was a request that went beyond her compulsive need to care for him. She wanted, needed the reminder of what she was to him.

  Everything.

  She might not phrase it that way, but he would. He gripped her wrist, lifted it to his mouth. He closed his eyes as her other hand lifted, rested on his head, his nape, and he remembered the night she’d asked permission to do that. He’d granted it, as long as she could bear the pain he’d inflicted on her. She’d struggled through it beautifully, arousing him with that intense, tightly-coiled anticipation that told him he was going to have that beautiful, intriguing sub, fuck her deep, feel the grip of her sweet little pussy around his cock, hear her cries and gasps as he took her over the edge.

  It had been mostly physical that night, but with the deeper emotions fully realized, he couldn’t see it any way but how he felt it now. He wanted to be inside her with the same urgent need she wanted him to take his blood, their wounds and dirt notwithstanding. But he knew how to exercise control. And take sips of what he knew he was going to consume like the last water on earth, as soon as the time was right.

  He put his mouth on her wrist, registered the beat of the pulse. He rubbed his temple against her hand, felt her fingers curl against his bare scalp. “Count to five for me,” he murmured.

  She made it to three and he bit, when she’d settled into the count and wasn’t expecting it. She drew in a breath, rocked against him, her fingers tightening against his skull. Tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes as she mouthed “Thank you,” to him.

  He had to put a tight rein on himself, because they’d given him no blood, while doing their best to prove nothing could kill him but a stake through the heart. His body was screaming for full strength, vitality. While logically he knew once he reached that goal he could give her the same, by the same method, he didn’t like seeing her so weary while he took from her.

  Yet he was also in her heart. When he took what she freely offered, needed him to take, he was nourishing and strengthening her soul, in a way just as vital as healing her body.

  So he drank, felt her fingers slide over his head and nape, making caressing circles and figure eights. She was still humming the song, sometimes saying a word or two of it.

  Even though the vehicle was populated by those he trusted, his sense of danger was still elevated to the point he became aware of a thread of tension—directed toward him.

  In the front seat, Gideon was watching him. He had his back propped against the car door, providing him an angle where he didn’t have his back to anyone. Wolf knew it was mainly to help Allan, sitting behind Wolf, keep tabs on him and Ella, in case they needed anything. Neither he nor Allan could be seen in a rearview mirror. However, like many warriors, Gideon rarely chose to have a blind spot in his visual radius.

  Wolf had no problem with the keeping tabs thing. Gideon loved Ella with a big brother protectiveness. However, after being through what he’d just been through with her, the dark, savage soul of a predator was too close to the surface. Gideon’s obvious concern about him drinking from Ella when she was wounded and weak triggered it in the blink it took Wolf to notice it.

  Wolf withdrew from Ella’s throat, but left his fangs unsheathed. A hissing growl rumbled from his throat. Fort glanced back, at the same moment Gideon’s expression hardened. The senior vampire spoke a low, firm word to Anwyn’s servant.

  “Don’t.”

  Wolf issued his own warning in the same breath.

  “Back off.”

  Ella’s eyes were half slits, her body loose in his arms now. She was no longer trembling with pain. Her mind drifted inside his with soft images, quiet things that soothed him as much as her blood nourished him. Only that kept him from lunging over the seat at Gideon, and even that bond was tentative. Especially when Gideon’s body language remained stiff, his jaw tight. Fuck, the man had a death wish.

  “Get him out of the car,” Wolf said. “Now.”

  He had no idea where they were, but it didn’t matter. It was a warning, not a threat. Gideon’s reaction to being challenged over the protection he felt Ella needed was goading Wolf to dangerous levels.

  Allan brought the SUV to a halt. Fort spoke a quiet word to Gideon. Gideon shook off his hand, his gaze fastened to Wolf’s, still challenging. The bloodlust bloomed red hot, and a shudder ran through Wolf’s limbs, a preparation to attack, tear, rend anything that tried to get between him and Ella. And feed on the interloper’s gloriously hot, pumping fresh blood.

  The SUV door opened, and Gideon left the car, somewhat forcefully. Wolf was aware that someone had jerked him out of the vehicle, slammed the door and then tapped the roof, a non-verbal cue to get going.

  He knew it had to be Daegan, who had been following not far behind in a van carrying Saturnia and Hollow. Wolf would let him explain to Gideon the finer points of not interfering between a vampire and a servant, before Gideon got his throat ripped out.

  Ella was moving, her hand cupping his jaw, fingertips sliding along his throat, a vampire’s most erogenous zone. She made a noise, almost soothing. Even as weak and out of it as she was, she was picking up on his agitation, offering calm.

  Wolf closed his hand around her fragile wrist and dipped his head. This time he bit her neck, though not to drink or br
eak skin. Just to hold her, tell her she was his.

  A shudder went through her, a soft exhalation of breath. She fumbled, urgent, found his hand, and put it between her legs, beneath the blanket wrapped around them. Christ. He laid his other hand alongside her face, and she pressed into that touch. Her lips parted, latching onto his thumb like a horse’s bit, using it to hold back her whimpers as her cunt spasmed against his hand.

  A small rippling only, given how weak her body was, but she’d climaxed, just the way she had when he bit her on the dance floor. Odd as it sounded, it wasn’t exactly sexual. It was an emotional response, one that overwhelmed him, her reaction to him, even now, wounded and exhausted.

  Sweet, sweet, girl. All mine. He savored her blood, the strength and vitality it brought to his body, and held her close again. He was suddenly impatient to reach their destination, where he could turn his full attention to restoring her fully—body, heart, mind and soul.

  “Get off me,” Gideon snapped, throwing off Daegan’s touch. When Daegan complied, he knew it was because that was Daegan’s decision, since the vampire had about fifty times Gideon’s strength. He threw a punch at him anyway, which Daegan sidestepped and caught, twisting his arm and shoving him away. Gideon whirled on him again, fists clenched, but he’d found enough control to stop there.

  Daegan stood, silent and dark in his black clothes, with the katana sheathed, and his other weapons hidden. Except his eyes, which were a lethal weapon by themselves. The van engine was running. Gideon couldn’t see Saturnia or Hollow through the dark windows, but knew they had to be riding in the back.

  “Fuck.” Gideon paced in a circle. “He’s drinking her blood after she just went through all that. What’s he thinking?”

  “He will be able to use his blood to strengthen her once he is strong. He can protect her better if he’s strong.”

  “Able to read his fucking mind?”

  “No. It is what a warrior would do. Plus, Ella needs service to feel centered. He is giving her that as well. Think, Gideon. I could see through your eyes what you refused to see. She wanted to give her Master strength. It is what servants do, when their vampire Master or Mistress is harmed. You have done it for me, and for Anwyn.”

  “But she just…”

  Gideon stopped, hands on hips, and tipped his head back, restraining the desire to snarl. Daegan came and stood before Gideon, put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You are angry about what occurred before we could find them. You also had to channel your Mistress’s agitation at not being able to accompany us. It was a bad situation, Gideon. We could have lost them both, and what they were doing to them…it was monstrous.”

  “So you’re saying I’m out of my right mind?” Gideon barked a laugh. Daegan didn’t crack a smile.

  “Yes. Wolf is not fully himself, either, for much the same reasons. She’s his first full servant, and their bond is new. It brings out territorial responses from a vampire best not challenged, whether by a servant or another vampire. In a physically stressful situation like now, that response increases tenfold.”

  Gideon paced in a wider circle, muttering, kicking the dirt.

  You’ve just managed to piss everyone off today, haven’t you?

  Anwyn’s dry observation. Daegan was glad to hear the teasing purr in her mind-voice. She was done being mad at him.

  I do not think it is my doing, he responded. I just have the privilege and curse of being bonded to two of the most stubborn people ever created.

  He felt her quiet amusement, and then a shift as she directed her next thought to their servant, helping him. Gideon. You know Daegan is right. Ella has made her choice. So has Wolf. Do you think I would do nothing if I thought Wolf didn’t have Ella’s best interests at heart? You feel protective toward her. You always have, because she brings that out in any male who sees her. But because of that, you overlook her strengths. You are also ignoring how Wolf feels about her.

  “I still don’t like it,” Gideon muttered.

  “Hmm. Then perhaps put yourself in her shoes,” Daegan pointed out. “What if Anwyn or I were hurt, and you were as well? You could give us blood to restore us. Or we could give you blood to restore you first. Which makes more sense to you as a warrior? Which one would you prefer to have happen first, as a servant?”

  Gideon heaved out a breath and stalked away, headed down the rural road on foot. “If you’re going to spout sense and logic, I’m walking home.”

  Despite the set of the other male’s shoulders, the attempt at wry humor told him Gideon was balancing out. It gave Daegan a painful smile.

  I’ll get us both home, cher. Never fear.

  Once they arrived at Club Atlantis, Ella was a little more awake. Wolf carried her down to the basement, where Anwyn had prepared a guest room for them. Those rooms were relatively new, additions she’d had renovated out of storage space in the past year. Now Ella knew it had been to handle the occasional vampire visitor.

  Anwyn had met them at the private elevator. Though Wolf still held her, Anwyn enveloped her in a tight hug that Ella cherished, the Mistress of Atlantis kissing her face, stroking back her hair, giving her a thorough looking over. She was more reserved with Wolf, but her relief and affection for him were obvious, as she lightly embraced him and asked what he needed.

  “Just the room. Thank you for your kindness. For everything. But for now, we just need the room and a bath.”

  He was already moving better, she realized hazily, and the way he’d spoken to Anwyn was steady, his voice strong. Her blood had done that.

  Anwyn let them go, and a few strides later, Ella opened her eyes to see he’d brought them into a comfortable room, bathed in warm lamplight. The king-sized canopy bed, the frame a dark wood, had a white coverlet scattered with pale gold embroidered flowers, and a wealth of pillows. A long burnished gold scarf wound around the top frame and draped down the bottom pillars.

  It was all so comfortable and normal, it almost brought on a fresh wave of tears.

  She was aware of easy chairs, a TV, but Wolf took them straight to the bathroom. At the sight of the gleaming white tub, the bronze fixtures of the adjacent shower, a small pearlescent army of body washes and shampoos waiting, something broke loose in Ella. She could be clean. She could wash everything away.

  She reached out toward the shower like it was a person, ready to embrace and welcome her home. She only did that with one arm, though. She had the other firmly crooked around Wolf’s neck. When he started to let her down, her body automatically drew up like a caterpillar in its cocoon, coiling around him.

  He cupped her head in one hand, holding her face to his strong throat. “Easy,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She understood that, but she thought nothing short of a Master’s command, uttered at its sharpest, could loosen her grip. Apparently, Wolf wasn’t ready to speak that way to her right now. For once, she was willing to take advantage of that and press her suit.

  With a tender sigh, he carried her to the shower. He started the water and stepped in, but turned his back to it, sheltering her and taking the brunt of the brief, initially cold spray, until it became warmer. The simple consideration gripped her heart, spilled tears out of her eyes.

  He murmured soothingly to her and put her under the hot spray. She moaned in relief, a weight lifted off her soul. As she sagged in his arms, he eased her feet down, though she practically stood on his while he ran his fingers through her hair, got it wet.

  For the next time span, there was only this. Cleaning and caring for one another. He rinsed everything out of her hair she didn’t want to remember. Blood, filth, smoke. That hated sterile laboratory smell. Her own vomit and waste. They’d hosed that off, but she could still feel it.

  At some point, she was feeling better, more aware, and the thought tapped her on a mental shoulder. What was she doing? Wolf needed care and cleaning, too. She should—

  “Do exactly what you’re doing. Just drift, sweet girl. Like I
told you. You’re not going to do anything for anyone until you’ve had some of my blood. Argue with me, and I’ll remember it when you’re strong enough for me to make the punishment fit the crime.”

  His voice stayed low, but she could hear the steel, knew he meant it. It meant the world to her, to hear that Master’s certainty in that distant-thunder rumble of his deep voice.

  He put shampoo in her hair and started to work it in. Oh Goddess, bliss. Total bliss. She leaned against him, her head tipped back and eyes closed. When he dipped down to brush her mouth with his, her lips curved. Things were quivering, though, telling her tears were running down her face among the shower water. Her fingers curled into his skin, the firm, brown muscles. She tried to keep everything out of her head but this moment. If she thought of what they’d been through, the images of him being tortured, of those horrible people, of Hollow’s dispassion…

  Those images dissolved, because another image came in. How she looked, her head tipped back from the massaging touch of his fingers, the weight of her wet hair. Her closed eyes emphasized the sable thickness of her soft lashes. Her mouth was soft and easy as she surrendered everything to her Master’s care. He soaped her shoulders and arms, lifting one then the other before letting them return to hold him. He covered every inch of her with his touch. Her shoulders and back, inside and outside of shoulder blades, the valley of her spine, rise of her buttocks, upper thighs.

  His mind. He’d put his mind inside of hers, crowded out her thoughts, made her join him inside a far different room.

  “The outer grime is gone. I’m moving us to the tub.”

  He’d started the water running before they stepped into the shower. She hadn’t remembered it, but apparently she was still weak enough to be zoning in and out some.

  He bent and lifted her once more, carrying her out of the shower and over to the tub. The water was almost to the top, and a fragrant scent hit her nose. She recognized it as a restorative oil she and Brownie both used in the massage room. Atlantis stocked it in their gift shop.