Blood That Binds: A Vampire Romance (Blood Legends Duet)

by Melissa Winters

I clear my throat, trying to unclog the bile lodged there.

  Julian turns, remembering I’m here for the first time since Miss Exotic showed up.

  “Marina, this is Adèle Dupré, a very good friend.”

  “Oh, Jude, don’t be so casual. I’m his very best friend.” She smiles widely, showcasing a row of brilliantly white teeth. Julian grins in response.

  “We should dance,” Adèle suggests, already making her way toward a large room where swarms of people grind their bodies together seductively. Turning to look over her shoulder, she gives Julian bedroom eyes, running her pink tongue slowly, provocatively across her lips. Julian’s back straightens, eyes coming to meet mine. My eyes are narrowed, mouth dropped open in shock at her blatant perusal of him.

  There is no doubt in my mind that these two have been together. Multiple times, if I had to guess.

  “Go,” I motion toward her. “I’ll be here, trying to stay alive.” My words are dramatic; no vampire has so much as looked my way since we entered this place. All of them are currently involved in some state of sexual bliss.

  “Marina, I wouldn’t leave you. I want you to dance with me.”

  Butterflies tickle my stomach at his words. He wants to dance with me.

  “But, your friend.” I motion toward a confused Adèle.

  “She’ll be fine. She always manages to find someone willing to dance with her,” he grins.

  “As for you, there will be no other dance partners.” He winks and I all but fall to the floor. “But first, a drink?”

  I nod, needing something to wet my parched lips.

  A waiter hands me two glasses of something that’s frothing.

  “What is this?” I scrunch my nose at the green foam.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to drink that.”

  “What is it?” I question.

  “It’s called Sacristan.” He takes it out of my hand. “It’s a liquor of sorts.”

  “Drugs?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “It’s not illegal, not that we abide by such standards, but it will heighten your current feelings.”

  “How so?”

  “If you’re happy, it will make you joyous. If you’re sad, it will make you inconsolable. If you’re angry, it will make you murderous,” he smirks.

  “That seems a bit dangerous to give to a room full of vampires,” I raise my brow.

  “Here, vampires are nothing more than gluttonous and lustful. It’s only dangerous for you if you show them any interest.” His cheek rises in a smirk. “Like I said, not for you.”

  I take a look around the room, feeling more out of place than I ever have. Not because I’m surrounded my vampires, but that I’m practically in the middle of an orgy.

  Vzar comes barreling up next to us.

  “Incoming. You’d better start looking like you’re enjoying the place, or shit’s going to get real very fast,” he says, eyes wide and pointing toward the back.

  Julian’s eyes are mere slits. Who could be headed this way? Whoever or whatever it is, isn’t good.

  Vzar grabs a glass out of Julian’s hand and stuffs it into mine.

  “Bottoms up, Marina,” he says, lifting the cup to my lips. Without thinking, I open my mouth and ingest a bit of the liquid.

  “Marina,” Julian says with wide eyes. “What have you done?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It’s too late to go back now, so I tip the glass of fizzing liquid back and shudder as the rest of it slides down my throat, cold at first but gradually warming the farther it travels. When it hits my stomach, my entire body is heated. Momentary light-headedness overcomes me, followed by a feeling of exhilaration.

  “Julian, what’s happening?” As much as I should be freaking out, I’m not. I’m too free to care.

  “Fuck,” Julian says, running his hands back through his hair. “Do you trust me to take care of you?” he asks, looking pained.

  I consider his question for a moment, but in actuality, the answer is immediate.

  “Yes,” I say with a lazy smile. “I trust you implicitly.”

  He nods, tipping his own drink back. With all the cares in the world gone, and a slight buzz blanketing me, I allow my body to sway with the music.

  “Will I be hung over tomorrow?” I ask out of curiosity, because everything I know about alcohol has always included a day of headaches and blackout curtains—at least where my mother is concerned.

  “No. This is not your typical alcohol, Marina. There’s a witch bartending.”

  My gaze flies to the bar. A male that looks younger than thirty, sporting a Mohawk and a nose ring, looks up and smirks at me, as if he heard our entire conversation.

  “A witch?”

  “Like I said, there are many things out there that humans don’t know about.”

  I nod my head, believing him.

  “Come, let’s dance,” he says, grabbing my hand and dragging me out onto the crowded dance floor.

  Perspiration, perfume, and some other smell linger in the air all around us. The lurid music pumps beneath my feet, making the whole room feel like it’s pulsing. Julian pulls me in close and my body sinks effortlessly against his. We move in time to the music and a sheen of sweat quickly builds on my neck. My hand comes up, lifting my hair, allowing the air to cool my body. Julian’s eyes heat, looking at me like he may devour me. Please.

  Bending, he runs his nose up the curve of my neck. I shiver at his touch, wanting so much more.

  “You smell amazing, Marina,” he says into my ear.

  I wonder if he’s referring to the perfume Katina bought for me or something different. At the brush of his lips on my skin, I lean in closer, demanding more. His teeth nip at my skin and a moan escapes my mouth. I should be scared, given he’s a vampire, but I’m not.

  “I don’t think you know how badly I want to kiss you,” Julian admits, and my knees go weak. The voice in my head is screaming, Do it. But my mouth won’t cooperate. I simply whimper in response.

  He pushes me back gently. He smirks at whatever he finds. Clearly, my feelings are written plainly all over my face. Pulling me in again, he wraps his large hands around my hips, sliding them up and down over the small of my back. Looking over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Adèle’s curious stare. She watches us very closely. It would be unnerving if my inhibitions weren’t so low.

  I push her out of my thoughts, no longer wishing to think about anything other than the music and the way my body flows with it. Looking at Julian, a hunger grows inside of me, threatening to burst. A throbbing thrums low in my pelvis, and I can hardly stand it. The need to rub against him is so strong it’s maddening. I grind into him and immediately moan at the exquisite contact.

  Julian groans in return, grabbing my leg and hoisting it around his waist, opening me to him. Every rock of the hips has me falling deeper and deeper into a pool of desire. My head is thrown back and Julian’s mouth comes down onto the hollow between my neck and shoulders. My breath hitches, not out of fear, but out of want. Pure unadulterated want.

  I want him to bite me. I want to feel the sensual pain, and more than anything, I want to know what it feels like to be consumed body and soul by Julian. There is no doubt that right now, there’s nothing he could do to me that I wouldn’t want, even beg for.

  “Do it,” I moan. “Please.”

  Julian’s hands tighten around me. I feel his canine trailing up my carotid artery and I feel him shiver. The tension builds low in my belly, working its way downward. I’m at a fever pitch, ready to plead at any moment for him to put me out of my misery.

  “I ache to give you what you want, Marina.”

  A whimper gets caught in my throat at his words and his touch. It’s too much. The dancing, the touching, Julian . . . it’s more than I can handle.

  “Please,” I repeat, sounding more desperate by the minute.

  Julian’s eyes meet mine, dark pools promising things that my mind can’t even comprehend. My tongue darts out, swiping
across my bottom lip, and that’s when I see Julian’s patience run out. His mouth descends on mine, hard and hot. Our tongues unite in a symphony of pent-up hunger. Everything around us fades until it’s just him and me. His hands tangle in my hair, tilting my head so it’s at the perfect angle, allowing him to explore my mouth deeper.

  I feel every kiss, every caress. Wetness pools in my panties as though he’s touching me there. All sensibility has left me as I grab his hand, placing it between my legs. My eyes roll back into my head at his touch. I don’t know if it’s the drink or something supernatural, but it’s unlocked something in me that’s never existed there before. Something primal and predatory. Marina Drake is no more, and in her place is a girl desperate to be claimed and made a woman.

  “Taste me, Julian.”

  He stills at my words, pulling away and leaving me feeling cold and alone.

  “I’m sorry, Marina. I should have never—”

  My chest heaves, embarrassment filling me.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I question, feeling dumb and small.

  “No. You are perfect. This isn’t right. You wouldn’t want this.”

  Embarrassment is quickly turning to resentment.

  “I wouldn’t want this? Now you’re turning this on me?”

  My entire life, I’ve never allowed anyone in. Tonight, I was willing to open myself to Julian, but he rejected me. He’s not wrong; the old me would be mortified at my behavior. No, she never would’ve acted in such a manner to begin with. He lowered my defenses and then turned me away.

  I turn away, rushing toward the exit. Julian catches up, grabbing my arm and spinning me around.

  “Marina, stop. You don’t understand.”

  “No, Julian. You’re right. I don’t.” I rip my arm out of his grasp and continue toward the door, desperate for air.

  “Please. This isn’t the place. I’m begging you to listen to me.” His pleading gives me pause. We are in a room full of vampires and he is under a microscope. As angry as I am in this moment, he’s right—this isn’t the place to air my grievances. My survival depends on his.

  I nod and walk back toward him, trying to right any damage that may have been caused by my outburst. I take a quick peek around, but it appears that nobody is attuned to our issues. They’re still riding their highs.

  “Come sit. We’ll talk somewhere more private,” Julian suggests, and I comply.

  “There you are, darling,” Adèle’s sensual voice swoops through the air. “I’ve been looking for you.” She takes one look at my face and frowns, peering at Julian. “Is something wrong?”

  “We’re fine, Adèle. Go have fun.” She purses her lips in a pout.

  “I thought you might dance with me. For old times’ sake,” she flirts, and my stomach coils in something akin to jealousy.

  “Right now isn’t a great time, but perhaps later.”

  “Fine,” she pouts. “I’ll come to collect in due time.” Pivoting on her toe, she’s off, heading toward the bar.

  “How do you know Adèle?” I ask, drawing Julian’s attention back to me.

  He blows out a harsh breath as if he’s desperate to talk about anything else. Curious.

  “She’s been a family friend for years. We were very close growing up. She’s always been the one person I could confide in.” His eyes avoid my gaze. “The one person I could trust.”

  “How nice,” I sneer, not wanting to know any more.

  “She has a fancy for the finer things in life.”

  “You don’t say,” I drag out, eyeing her red-soled shoes that I know have to cost in the thousands. “Does she have a boyfriend?” I ask, hoping she’s spoken for.

  “No. Her love is travel. Always has been.” I detect a hint of derision.

  “She pops in and out of the States a few times a year, but mostly she’s in Europe. I’m waiting for the day that she decides to plant her roots there for good, much to her family’s disapproval.”

  “Why wouldn’t her family like that?”

  “She’s the heir to their kingdom. They’re one of the royal families. Her parents were the second family in our race. Adèle is a Born.”

  I look at the beauty again. She’s currently grinding into some tall dark-haired stranger. Her movements are fluid and graceful; she looks like a professional dancer. Her long black hair drops down her back in thick waves. A tight black mini dress hugs every inch of her body perfectly. Every man in the room has their eyes on her.

  Except Julian. His are on me.

  “I didn’t pull away from you because I didn’t want you, Marina. Quite the opposite. You have to know that.” Julian says assertively but affectionately. “I’d never take advantage of you, and while you have Sacristan in your system, you aren’t in full control. I never want you to regret your decisions.”

  My chest swells. Mortal men don’t act with such chivalry. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never been inclined to give my all to one of them. Sacristan might have made me bold, but it wasn’t directing my actions. Julian has earned my trust and admiration in such a short time. I once believed it to be Stockholm syndrome, but it’s not. It never was. Something deep within me, an innate yearning, began the moment I saw him. It’s as if my soul recognized its counterpart, but the call was overshadowed by the circumstances. It’s been through his protection and candor that I’ve come to recognize my feelings for what they are. True. Deep. Everlasting.

  Now to convince Julian that he belongs with a mere human.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The sun bathes me in its warm glow as I sit atop the bottom step of Julian’s porch.

  “You should come under the shade,” Julian suggests from a rocking chair behind me. “Your fair skin is turning pink.”

  I twist around to face him. “You can’t tell that from clear over there.”

  “I can. Your cheeks are rosy.”

  He’s not wrong. My entire face is warm, but I’m not ready to leave the sun. It’s been raining for the past four days and I’m desperate for as much vitamin D as I can get.

  “You couldn’t see my cheeks before,” I say with a grin and a quirked brow.

  “Must you always challenge me?” he says with a smile that turns my insides to goo.

  “It would be boring any other way.”

  Turning back around, I inhale deeply, basking in the fragrance of lavender that floats through the air. My eyes close and I just enjoy being still. All the worries of the world disappear for the moment. After a couple of minutes, I decide that Julian is right, and if I don’t get out of the sun, I will be dealing with a nasty sunburn.

  “Ah, so now you listen,” he goads.

  “You look like you could use some company.”

  I want to spend time with Julian alone, and now is my chance. Stacey was with us all morning, but decided to head back to the estate for a nap. You know she was tired if she decided to scrap a shopping trip to take a nap.

  I’m not upset. With her back at the main house, I have some time alone with Julian. An intense need to know more about him has me turning my chair toward him.

  “Have you found out anything about Shannon?” I ask, needing to know. I’ve wanted to ask so many times, but I didn’t want to push. He said we’d have to be smart, and I’m trying to keep my promise of trusting him.

  “I spoke to Marcellus. He doesn’t have her, Marina. She wasn’t at the auction.” His voice is sad. Regret radiates off of him. My heart stops for a moment. If they don’t have her, where is she?

  “I’ll keep looking, Marina. She’s got to be out there somewhere. I’ll find her,” he promises. My heart breaks for my friend and what she might be going through—if she’s alive. Julian says he’ll continue to look for her, and that’s the best I can ask for. He’d find something before the police. I have to trust that he’ll uncover where she is. The need to change the subject presses on me.

  “Tell me something about you,” I ask with the most pleasant smile I can conjure, hoping it’ll e
ntice him to share.

  “What would you like to know?” His shoulders push backward, chest puffing out.

  “What was your favorite time period?”

  I figure he’s been through so many different eras, he has to have a favorite. Living vicariously through him seems like a fun thing to do today.

  His nose scrunches. “I’ve had many, Marina.”

  “Indulge me,” I beg.

  He rubs his head, eyes pointed toward the sky, seemingly contemplating his favorite era, while I internally make my own guess. I can picture him in the nineteenth century, at court, dancing with all of the prettiest debutantes. A smile graces my lips at the mental picture.

  “Yes, I did enjoy those days, although the dancing—” he grimaces. “Ladies in those days would have you dancing until your feet wanted to fall off,” he says, causing goose bumps to rise on my arm. He’s responding directly to my thoughts. And he expects me to believe he can’t read my mind? Whatever it is, it’s unnerving.

  “It sounds wonderful,” I muse. “I can picture it all. It’s hardly fair you’ve experienced all of these years.”

  “They weren’t all great, Marina. I’ve lost many friends along the way to old age and illness. It’s hard to watch life move on while you’re standing still.”

  I sigh. I don’t doubt his words. It had to feel lonely at times.

  “Then there was 1903, when I bought my first car. It was incredible, but nothing like what we have today,” he smirks.

  I can only image what that smirk implies. I’m sure he has a garage full of cars somewhere, based on the enthusiasm he’s showing now. An image pops into my mind of a carefree Julian, driving a red BMW convertible with the top down through the countryside. A smile graces my lips at the image.

  “My favorite, though, was 1994.”

  My breath hitches. The year I was born. There is nothing incredibly memorable from 1994—with the exception of OJ and some pretty killer songs being released. No, 1994 is definitely not a year that most would remember as being one of the best ever. So, what could Julian Bellamy possibly have gotten up to?