The Vampire Always Rises

by Katie MacAlister

  “Ugh. I sure hope this works.” Without looking at my thumb, I maneuvered it between the man’s lips, and waggled it around on his tongue, pushing away thoughts of germs and infection, and focusing on the anticipation of the joy that was sure to be mine any second now.

  Any second.

  Any ... “Well, pooh.” I withdrew my thumb and leaned over the man, my nose touching his as I watched closely for signs of life. “Maybe it wasn’t enough?”

  A faint exhalation seemed to emerge from his still open mouth, brushing over my face. “Mister? Do you need more? If so, you’re going to have to do the honors yourself, because it makes me queasy to do it mys—”

  The words were stripped right out of my mouth when two arms suddenly wrapped around my back at the same instant I was pulled down onto his body, my mouth colliding with his in a way that I knew immediately wasn’t an accident. His tongue had come to life, sweeping into my mouth like it owned the place, his spicy taste somehow both foreign and strangely familiar.

  Without being aware of any movement on his part, I found myself on my back, the warmth of the carpet and the heat of the fire dancing along my nearly naked flesh, the man pressing down on me a solid but not uncomfortable weight, his hands not moving, but holding firmly to my hips.

  Only his tongue moved, twining around mine as it tasted me, teased me, its movements seeming to stir fires deep inside me that echoed with the memory of my erotic dream. “Oh, Glorioski,” I moaned when I managed to pull my mouth from his. I felt light-headed, like there was no oxygen in the room, but it was a feeling I wanted to go on and on.

  The man’s mouth moved along my jaw, pressing hot kisses to my flesh, his touch making me shiver with both anticipation and sexual excitement. I couldn’t believe I was reacting this way to a man I didn’t know, let alone who wasn’t, strictly speaking, conscious, but I knew vampires had the ability to make women swoon just with their touch. “Man, C. J. Dante didn’t get this wrong at all,” I said, my breath catching in my throat when the mysterious vampire’s mouth moved down to my neck. My heart beat madly, while intimate parts of me woke up and began to express interest in the proceedings. I clutched his shoulders, waiting, hoping for the bite, sure it was to come, and equally sure that when it did, it would be the last thing I’d ever feel.

  The pain was over almost before my brain could process it, the sting sharp and swift, but easing almost immediately to an erotic sensation so strong that I writhed beneath his body in my attempt to get out of my underwear, every inch of me a sensitized erogenous zone. I was simultaneously hot and cold, the hunger within me blotting out everything but the need I had, a need that had to be fulfilled or else I’d simply fade away to nothing. My fingers weren’t in the least bit gentle when I pulled at his clothing, the sound of cloth ripping as I exposed his chest, then struggling with the leather belt buckle, all the while my legs moving restlessly against his. I could do nothing but make incoherent moaning noises while I tugged at his clothing, releasing the hot brand of him into my waiting hands.

  His mouth moved on my neck, and I caught a flash of beautiful blue eyes when he shifted, his body urgent as he bit me again, this time on my shoulder just as he’d done in my dream, the sensation of my blood flowing into him almost pushing me over the edge.

  “Please,” I whimpered, wrapping one of my legs around his. “I’m going to break into a billion pieces if you don’t.”

  My hands were desperately pulling at him, under his shirt stroking the still cool flesh of his back, my hips doing a sinuous dance of enticement, my whole being focused on this desperate need that I felt to take life from him. And when he gave in to my urging and moved into me, it was as if my own personal heaven had opened and choirs sang down on us. I moved in ways I’d never moved before, matching his thrusts into my depths, reveling in both the stretching feeling and the sensation of my tightness upon him.

  So ... hot.

  “Oh, yes, so very hot.” I arched back when his mouth moved again, and he kissed a burning path over to a spot just below my ear. “No wonder women do this. It’s ... it’s ...”

  Exquisite.

  So exquisite. I feel like I’m going to jump into something.

  Jump, goddess, jump.

  The sting on my neck did the job. My body tightened and seemed to explode into minute little pieces of sunlight as I gave way to the orgasm that had been hovering ever since he’d bitten me.

  His breath was hot on my throat as he groaned and gave way to his own climax, the sense of it rocking me. And as I lay beneath him, panting, my mind reeling with the experience I’d just had, I realized something important.

  I’d just had sex with a stranger.

  OK, mind-blowingly fabulous sex, but still, sex with a man whose name I didn’t even know.

  Oddly enough, I wasn’t bothered by the fact that he drank my blood—that seemed to be of lesser importance than the fact that I had given myself—really, demanded that he take me—to a man I’d known a total of fifteen minutes, and none of those minutes had he been conscious.

  “Um,” I said, turning my face into the ebony strands of hair that caressed my cheek. He had collapsed on me, his breath hot on my shoulder, his breathing just as wild as mine. “Excuse me, but this might be a good opportunity for us to introduce ourselves. I’m Tempest. Did you call me a goddess?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask that last question, but it had been trembling on the tip of my tongue ever since I’d recovered my wits. “I’ve been called Red before—just about everyone seems to think they have to point out that I have red hair, like that escaped my notice—but never goddess. So, what’s your name?” There was no answer, just the rapid, hot breath on my shoulder. I gave his shoulders a shove. “Hello?”

  My word seemed to echo, and came from a distance. I froze, listening intently, holding my breath as if that would help me hear better.

  “Hello? Tempest? She must be in bed. Jakob, you do not need to check on Mr. Pibbles. He’ll be asleep in his warm, comfy stall, and if you open the barn door, it’ll let the cold air in.”

  “Someone is here,” a baritone Spanish voice declared in a dramatic manner. The voices were distant, but perfectly audible, probably something to do with the way the hall was shaped.

  “Roxy’s niece is here, Antonio. I told you that. Christian, would you let Esme loose?”

  Eeek! It was C. J. Dante and his wife! I struggled to get out from under the deadweight of my nameless lover, and managed to roll him over onto his back.

  “No, no, it is a man. A foul one, like the one ’oo possesses you. I shall find ’ im and smite ’ im.”

  “There is a Dark One here?” That was another man’s voice, but this man had a deep voice with a faintly Germanic accent, and a note of authority that fit perfectly with my idea of the owner of a castle. I pulled my nightie down, snatching up the tiny panties that came with it, and hurriedly pulled them on.

  “Yes. I will find. You go to bed, old one.”

  The voices sounded louder, filling me with a sense of panic. I glanced over to the vampire and was horrified to see that not only was his shirt open and pulled out of his pants in a way that laid bare an extremely attractive chest, but his naughty bits were lolling right there for everyone to see, and the wetness glistening thereupon made it pretty clear what we’d just been doing. I stuffed his penis back into his pants, and yanked up the zip.

  “Goodness, thank you, dear Christian. Mr. Woogums and I were most tossed around in your pocket. It’s so nice to be back in my regular spirit form. Allegra, where is Antonio going? Mr. Woogums, no! You are not to follow him. You know he gets into all sorts of trouble.”

  I ignored this new voice, which was that of an Englishwoman, instead working frantically to get the vampire’s belt buckled, and his shirt tucked back into his pants. He didn’t so much as twitch as I worked over him.

  “Antonio says there’s a vampire here. Girls, go up to your room. Jakob, did you hear me when I said you were not to go out to the sta
ble?”

  That was the woman who had to be Allie speaking again. A door slammed in response to her demand. I turned my attention to buttoning up all the buttons on the shirt worn by the man next to me. There were three buttons missing, but I was hoping if I got the others together, it wouldn’t be so noticeable.

  I’d just finished, and pulled the unoccupied bit of rug over the man, when I felt a sudden swirl of wind. A man in Elizabethan garb rushed into the room, a rapier in his hand.

  “Stand! I ’ave you now, you ... oooh.” He looked taken aback for a second; then his expression changed from fierce to a leer. He swaggered forward, his eyebrows bobbling like mad, a smile on very red lips. “’Ello, my fiery one. You have very much beautiful breasts.”

  I looked down, found my scant robe had come undone during my struggle to dress the prone vampire, and had just pulled it closed when several people entered the room, including two girls of about four—obviously twins—and a tall, gangly boy of about seven or eight. He had a shock of black hair and silver eyes that were almost identical to those of the man who seemed to dominate the room the second he entered it.

  My skin prickled with more than cold, causing me to wrap my arms around myself, very aware that I was in the presence of a man who wasn’t going to stand any shenanigans. He stopped in front of me, his frowning eyes going from me to the man next to me.

  “Hello. You must be Tempest. I’m Allie.” The woman who was on Christian Dante’s heels limped forward, greeting me with a warm smile. She had oddly mismatched eyes, but that just made me like her more. “I’m sorry we’re so late. There was an accident on the train line, and they didn’t get it cleared for hours. I hope Tilda has made you comfortable. Is this a friend of yours?”

  She nodded toward the vamp next to me, who was still unconscious.

  “No,” Christian said, giving me a suspicious look before striding forward to peer down at the man. A surprised look flashed in his eyes before a shutter seemed to come down, blocking out all visible emotions.

  “I didn’t do this,” I said, getting to my feet, holding my robe tight across my front.

  “Esme, dear,” Allie said, her voice light and apparently unconcerned. “Why don’t you take the girls upstairs to their room, and help them into their jammies.”

  “What an excellent idea,” the woman named Esme answered, nodding so fast her fat gray sausage curls positively bounced. “Come along, Julia. Iris, dear, leave the dead man alone. You don’t know where he’s been.”

  She left, accompanied by the two little girls, both of whom started chattering about what they were going to do when Mr. Woogums had kittens.

  “My darlings, I’ll leave that talk to your parents,” was all that Esme said as their voices drifted away.

  “The woman killed the evil one?” the Elizabethan man asked, eyeing me with a combination of speculation and lust. “I shall punish ’er for you. Slowly. With my hands. And possibly my mouth.”

  “And that’s it for you tonight, Antonio,” Allie said, glaring at the man. “Go away and let us deal with this.”

  “But I am your protector!” he protested.

  “Go,” she said, but there was a note of steel in her voice.

  “You cannot just disperse me like I am nothing but the poof of steam,” he said, sniffing.

  “Look, we took you and Esme with us tonight because you guys said you wanted a night out in Prague, but that doesn’t mean we need you underfoot now. Go watch a movie, or visit with your friends out in the mausoleum, or do something, so long as it’s not here.”

  He looked like he was going to protest, but before he could, Christian Dante strode over, and waved his hand in the air. To my surprise, the Elizabethan faded away into nothing.

  “Thank you,” Allie said, giving her husband a smile.

  “You could have done that yourself,” he pointed out.

  “I know, but it always feels so rude. Now, about this man ... who is he?”

  They both turned back to the man before the fire.

  “I don’t know. I found him like that,” I answered, assuming she was talking to me.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Christian said in a low voice, turning to face me. “What exactly happened here?”

  “Nothing!” I spread my hands and tried to look like I hadn’t just enjoyed the single most erotic experience of my life with the unconscious man on the floor behind me.

  “What do you mean, nothing?” Christian frowned and suddenly realized his son was still in the room. “Jakob, it is past your bedtime.”

  “I’m hungry,” the boy said, his eyes grave as they considered me.

  “Then you may go out to the stable and drink from one of the cows, but do not play with your pony.”

  “Awww,” the boy said, and did a good approximation of a dirt kick.

  “And put on your coat,” Allie said absently, her eyes on the man before us. She knelt and touched his wrist. “It’s chilly outside, and I don’t need you getting a cold.”

  “I’ve told you ever since he was born that he can’t get sick with mortal illnesses,” Christian said, addressing his wife. “Why do you persist on ignoring that fact?”

  “Because I’m a mother, and as such, I’m legally obligated to say things like that. Tempest, when you said that nothing happened here—”

  “I meant that. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. He was just ... uh ... there. And I was here. We weren’t together. Not even remotely. And ... that’s all.” I coughed and wondered if it was possible to die of shame. Perhaps my father and his cult had been right all along. Perhaps I really would go to hell for having sex.

  With a vampire.

  One I hadn’t even met.

  I sighed, and felt my shoulders slump.

  “You just came out of bed,” Christian asked in an extremely stern tone, his eyes flickering over my negligee, “and discovered this man?”

  “Yes. Well, not really. I mean, I did find him, but not here.” I decided it was safe enough to tell them the truth about that part of the evening. “I was dreaming about ... well, that’s really not important. I mean, it could be, but probably isn’t. So, I heard pounding and woke up, and someone was at your front door banging on it, and when I went down to answer it—I figured you guys must have gotten locked out somehow—a man was there with this guy. Oh. I just realized what that man meant.”

  “I’m confused,” Allie said, moving over to pull the rug from where it was draped over the prone vampire. “Is there one Dark One, or two?”

  “Two. Wait—I don’t know if the pounding man was a vampire or not. Do you think he was?” I asked Christian, since he seemed like the best source of information concerning potential vampires.

  He looked momentarily startled. “I have no idea. So there were two men?”

  “Yes, poundy Pink Spiky Hair man, and the dead vampire.”

  “Dead?” Allie make a little sound of horror.

  “Oh, he’s not dead,” I reassured her. “I gave him some blood. He hasn’t woken up, but he’s most definitely not dead.”

  “You fed him,” Christian said, making it a statement, moving over to gaze down at the man before the fire.

  “Yes. It seemed like the thing to do. I read in one of your books that vampires can’t be killed unless you cut off their head, or they suffer some horrible injury, and since he didn’t seem to be hurt in any way, I figured he was just nearly dead. So I nicked my finger and got a little blood on his tongue and that seemed to do the job, because the next thing I knew, he was at my throat and ... well ...” I coughed again, and tried hard to look like the modest, pure woman that my father’s cult wanted me to be.

  “I see.” There was a strangled note to Christian’s voice that smoothed itself out with his next words. “Then we have much to thank you for, Miss Keye. Who is this other man you mentioned? The one who was at my door?”

  “I don’t know—he never told me his name, but he did say ...” I paused, closing my eyes to remember his words. “
He told me not to tell his master that he had not killed this man, or the master would cut off his head. Spiky Pink’s head, that is. He had spiky pink hair, in case you are confused.”

  “I know I am,” Allie said softly, her eyes on her vampire. “What do you think it means, Christian?”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned to me, giving me a little bow. “You are no doubt cold and tired and wish to return to bed. I’ll have Allegra send up some cocoa to help compensate for your ... donation.”

  “Oh, that’s OK, I feel fine,” I said, waving a hand around with airy indifference to the loss of blood. “I take it that the message meant something to you? Do you ... er ... know who this man is? Not that it matters to me, but you know, it’s always kind of nice to know the name of the man you just ... uh ...”

  “Fed?” Allie asked.

  “Yeah.” I smiled a brilliant smile, all the while calling myself names for almost telling them just exactly what had gone down here less than a half hour before. Just play it cool, I told myself. They’ll never know how shameless you are.

  There’s nothing to be ashamed of, wafted gently through my mind, making me shake my head.

  “Is there something wrong?” Allie asked, watching me closely.

  “No. Not really. It’s just ...” I made a face. “Sometimes it’s hard to shed the dictates that have been pounded into you for years, even though you know they’re wrong. And that you’re an adult, and if you chose to do things adults do, that’s your right, and it doesn’t automatically mean that it’s sinful and you’re going to suffer a thousand torments for it.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again with a little half shake of her head. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, but I’m going to guess it has something to do with the cult that Roxy said you were a part of.”

  “Against my will,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t like I believed in the stuff they did. And then I had to stay because my dad was sick, and I didn’t want to leave him to Elder Wilhelm’s idea of homeopathic care. I got Papa to see proper doctors, even if he complained the whole time about seeing non-church people, and—”