Vampire Assassin League Bundle 4 - Eternity

by Jackie Ivie

  Sweet. Talking of it helped temper what had become raging hormones. It felt like tiny drops of cool water were getting flicked onto a bonfire. But at least she could think. Barely.

  “Skydiving?”

  His voice really was sending messages. Right to her. Killer-sexy messages. Or something her entire being read that way. Damn. If she could figure out how to handle the reactions from his voice, she might be able to work around the other issue. The physical craving. Massive want. Need. Desire.

  Her teeth tingled again. Weirdly. And with something that made her next words slur a bit.

  “Uh...yeah. Skydiving. That’s what I was doing when...well. When I died. It wasn’t my fault. Somebody messed with my chutes. I’m guessing they used wire-cutters on the main one. I’m not sure about the reserve. I checked my gear before stacking it on the rack. I double-checked when I donned it. And we buddied up to check each other’s back. Bryce checked mine. He’s a good friend. He’d never cut my cord.”

  “You sure?”

  “That’s what I need the lab for. Good. You see? It’s still there.” Ashley smoothed the pocket flap enough it outlined the distinctive T-bar and chunk of ripcord she’d tucked into it during her fall. “Do you have examination gloves?”

  “I have everything.”

  “Okay. Where? Because I might get a fingerprint from the plastic tubing around the main chute cord. As for the reserve one? Well. It’s glued in or something. I couldn’t get it to – damn it!”

  Ashley pulled the T-bar on the reserve chute, and shot backwards as it not only came free it brought a chunk of fabric with it. It also tore her nail beyond the quick. And that hurt. That was stupid. And she was getting really tired of looking like a fool. She stuck her finger in her mouth and sucked. At the first taste, her knees wavered, while she got such a sensation of ecstasy, she almost had an orgasm. Right in front of him. There wasn’t any way to stop it. Or control it.

  Oh. No!

  She’d never been so embarrassed. She was near tears. And even that didn’t stop the pleasure coursing her, coming in spurts just beneath the surface of her skin. He started chuckling. Or snorting with what sounded like choked-back amusement.

  “Stop laughing at me! Okay? I didn’t mean to pull that hard, but I don’t know my own strength. Damn it to hell! I don’t even know how to move right! I don’t know what’s wrong with me! And I really don’t understand why I don’t feel dead!”

  Oh, no. No. The last two words were almost sobbed. But at least it stopped his laughter.

  “Oh, Ashley. Forgive me. I am not laughing at you. I don’t believe I’ve ever laughed. But if I was...it was at fate. And luck. Look at me.”

  Look at him? Oh no way. She’d rather die. For real, this time. She was fighting unshed tears that blurred her vision. She shook her head and pulled her finger free. It no longer pained. She watched as the injury faded and then disappeared.

  “Is it my scar? Forgive me. I didn’t think it bothered you.”

  What? No. She couldn’t let him think that. Her heart dropped. Her tears dried as well as any desire to shed them. She heard rustling. Perhaps he was shifting on the stool? Rearranging papers?

  Ashley forced herself to look. And then she frowned. Apparently, she’d traveled several yards when she’d pulled the ripcord. The table looked smallish. Or maybe that was because of Lucien’s size in comparison. He wasn’t paying the least attention to her. He was drawing an intricate series of lines on the page before him, obliterating whatever writing was already there. He was studiously ignoring her. He’d raised the hood of his robe, too, shadowing his features. It wasn’t doing much to hide him, however. Putting his hood up only tightened the material about the rest of him. She’d been right about his frame. He appeared to be very fit. Muscled. Those were pretty massive shoulders, as well. She pulsed in place, and then had to consciously stop her feet from moving toward him.

  “Uh...Lucien?”

  “You are never going to feel dead, Ashley.” He spoke to the parchment before him.

  “Why not? I’m a vampire, aren’t I?”

  “Yes. Yes you are.”

  He dipped his quill again. She waited while he tapped it on the edge of his inkpot. And then he went back to his paper, adding swirls to his art. Wow. He had some really defined arms, too. Hmm. He should’ve probably pulled his cuffs down at the same time he’d decided to hide his face.

  “So....all the stories are wrong?”

  “Vampirism is not eternal life, Ashley. It’s eternal death. It has a large side effect. To accept means losing everything that gives joy in the physical realm. Oh. Except satisfying hunger. That becomes the driving force. It’s the lone thing we feel. Every night follows the previous one in a litany of nothingness. That’s what vampirism is. Lengthy nights. Bereft spans of time. Emotionless existence.”

  Man. He had a great voice, even if he was talking nonsense. She hadn’t noticed the touch of foreign accent he had, either. Until now.

  “Uh...that can’t be true,” she told him.

  He huffed. It was probably amusement again, but it didn’t bother her.

  “We are all warned beforehand. We get the decision. Akron gives it to us. Nobody goes into this blind.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We accept the terms he offers. Vampirism equals eternal death. Nothing more.”

  “I didn’t get warned.”

  “That’s because you’re lucky.”

  “Okay. He did say that.”

  “Akron actually said you were lucky?”

  “Uh. Yeah.”

  He shook his head again, putting a bit of light on the unscarred side of his profile. And his lips were turned up as if he smiled. “I knew he knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “There is one thing that alters this endless existence, Ashley. It changes everything.”

  “What happens then?”

  “Oh...we get everything back. Passion. Love. Pleasure. Our hearts start beating again. Breath comes. Blood flows. Usually in perfect tandem.”

  “Okay. Enough of the melodrama. What is this wonderful thing, already?”

  “We find our mates. And it’s a powerful thing. Hard to fight. Impossible to ignore.”

  Everything stopped. Shock invaded her veins. Ashley couldn’t breathe. Blink. Gasp. And then, with a decided lurch, the world started up again. Everything in the room looked brighter. Sharper. She narrowed her eyes while Lucien just kept filling in what looked like an open-work, lacy heart shape.

  “Us?”

  She choked on the word, and then her mouth dropped open. Did that mean he was suffering the same things? And how she wanted to find out! It was a good thing they were yards apart at the moment. And what did he do about it? Studiously continue doodling.

  “We’re...mates? Seriously?”

  He nodded again.

  Holy crap. Every emotion she thought she knew got overridden and then topped. She was vibrating in place, experiencing waves of reaction through her body that she could actually follow. Her scalp tingled. Her throat felt tight. Her heart pumped more than blood. It sent an ever increasing sensation of something. Nipples itched. Her belly felt like it was being tickled. Her skin rippled with gooseflesh. Her knees wavered. Even her toes clenched.

  “Lucien?”

  “Yes?”

  “About that scar thing.”

  His shoulders rose, and he hunched forward a bit. It looked like a defensive posture. It probably was. The quill lifted from the page next. That was probably lucky, too. As she watched, a drop of ink fell onto the tabletop, missing papers by a fraction.

  “I think it’s a bit too sexy.”

  The quill dropped. She watched it roll and then fall off the table, leaving another ink spot, making the slightest rumbling sound as it did so. Ashley just blazed on.

  “I mean. There’s bad-boy sexy and...there’s you. And I already think you’re the most gorgeous, killer-sexy thing I’ve ever seen. That mark just takes it wa
y over the top. Okay? And don’t give me that look. I am so not joking. I think the only time you’ll need to hide anything is if other women are around. I mean, somebody’s got to keep them from attacking you. And I’m not even sure how to move right. It could get ugly.”

  He stood. The stool fell. And then he turned toward her and shoved the hood onto his shoulders. She’d been off a hair. It wasn’t other women he needed protection from. It was her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  She’d been right. She didn’t know how to control movement. Lucien was hard-pressed to remain standing as she reached him. A human would’ve slammed into the rock wall behind him. Lucien still skidded a few inches, shock getting overtaken by something powerful. Intense. Physical. She’d wrapped her arms about his waist when she’d hit. She was even smaller than she’d looked. Her head was well beneath his chin. And in this position, she’d locked every bit of her front against his.

  Lucien groaned, his knees buckled for a moment, and then his entire frame tightened. He locked his legs next and returned her embrace, his arms wrapped so tightly, it lifted her from the floor. Any breath got sucked from him, as his belly went to concave ridges of muscle. His canines to slicing sharp. His loins? Holy hell. Everything he’d disavowed in his past life went rogue, hardening to almost painful size and rigidity against the rough weave of his robe. He’d never felt anything like this. He could swear he was glowing.

  She squirmed until his hold slackened, the move easing her back to her feet. Her hands slid around to his chest next, where she hitched her fingers about the edges of his robe in order to lean backwards, making the material gap as it held her in that position.

  “Lucien?”

  A hint of breath accompanied her voice. It reached his upper chest. He wobbled in place before steadying himself. And everywhere they touched began to emit a series of lightning-fast bolts. They shot outward, pulsing along his limbs, creating all kinds of reaction before coming back. Over and over again. All of it sending more fire-like sensation to his loins. This was incredible. Amazing.

  “Lucien...um. You’re starting to scare me again.”

  He was frightening her? Oh, no. No. He didn’t want that.

  Lucien looked down. His eyes caught for a second on her rose-tinted lips, parted just enough to show the tips of sharp fangs. She had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He looked higher. Her eyes were an olive green color, with what looked like a deep red about the pupils. They were surrounded and enhanced by lashes a shade darker than her reddish-brown hair, still in a braid down her back. The moment he locked gazes with her, his heart flickered, catching him by surprise. It might have done the same for her since her eyes widened. And then, somewhere in the room, a throbbing noise started up, filling his ears with sound, while somewhere in his periphery vision, the lights started moving, going into a swirling haze of orange-red. No. That was wrong. The haze was more red than orange, looking fire-touched and filled with sparks. The haze even had the slightest smell of smoke to it.

  And she was right at the core of it.

  Her mouth moved. She made words. He had a hard time hearing them through the throbbing noise that blended now with the swirling color. He looked upward before he lost his sanity.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me, Lucien?”

  “K-K-Kiss...y-y-you?”

  Oh. Damnation. He’d stuttered. It matched the volley of non-rhythmic lunges his hips were making against her, fully demonstrating the size and strength of his erection as well as his complete lack of control.

  “You do know how, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Uh...”

  She had a teasing tone in her voice as she asked the unfathomable. Did he know how to kiss? He didn’t even know if it was possible with them in full fang-mode. But oh! How he wanted to try. He licked his lips. They were chapped. He also snagged his tongue on a canine. It bled. At the taste, Lucien got hit with absolute, hellish need. To an unbelievable level. He pulled every muscle into a solid coil of tension to fight it.

  “Oh. Wow. Lucien. Um. You are already...over the top. Way. Way. Way. Over. You are rapidly approaching perfection. Holy shit. Look at these abs. Wow again.”

  Her words were disjointed and filled with little mews of what sounded like pleasure. She’d split his robe from naval to shoulder. He felt her fingers run down the ridges in his stomach, every touch adding fuel to a nearly uncontrollable blaze. And then she brought her fingers back up the same path, skittering along his flesh, ratcheting everything higher. She snagged his chin next, using the grip to tilt his head down. Lucien had no choice but to meet her gaze and again drown in those olive-shaded depths. And it was absolute, one-hundred-percent bliss.

  “Well. I guess I’d better just show you how, then.”

  She didn’t give him any warning! One moment she was mesmerizing him with a gaze, and the next, she had her lips pressed to his, slicing skin and creating such a plethora of pleasure, he arched back with it. Going airborne. Without conscious thought or instruction. And he took her with him.

  He didn’t know how high he’d gone before falling. His table hadn’t been made for that kind of impact. Or, if it had, he’d altered that with his fix-it job. He felt the structure shudder for a moment before it gave, tipping them outward since they’d landed on the edge. Lucien slid, holding her to him, her curves pressed fully to him, and her mouth! Oh! There was no description for the pleasure she was creating with her lips against his. Moans filtered through the space, interspersed with his groaning, and behind that came laughter.

  Real. Joy-filled laughter.

  Lucien was filled with it. It brimmed over. His entire existence had been turned into a whirl of fiery hues, red and orange...and deepest black, with absolute joy at their center. Because of her. His mate.

  She straddled him, her thighs encasing his hips as she worked at the knot of his belt, and when that proved ineffectual, she simply yanked the material apart. And Lucien laughed at that, as well. He watched her watch him. And it looked like her pupils enlarged, making her eyes endlessly black, and ceaselessly hypnotic. And then she had both hands atop his belly. They moved lower...her fingers questing with the most delicate motion. He couldn’t allow it! He daren’t! He shouldn’t!

  Should he?

  “No. Wait! Ashley...you mustn’t...ah!”

  He thought he said it. The words may have even made sound, but they got swallowed into a garbled cry that tore his throat, stifled his resistance, and tore through any negation. She’d reached and then held him. In her hands. Her fingers were coaxing all kinds of responses from his rod. Lucien went taut, while everything about him went to a solid state of tremor. Wood groaned. Reality shifted. Even the stones warped. And all the while she kept stroking, doing wicked things to him. Illicit things. Torturous things.

  He arched back, smacking his shoulders into the floor, and that’s when the first hint of pain touched him. It rioted through him, demonstrating a sure panacea for testosterone that was raging out of control. It overrode everything. Even desire. Lucien gasped and grabbed at Ashley, stopping any further motion.

  “What...is it?”

  The concern in her beautiful eyes was enough to make him weep. Lucien blinked rapidly to staunch that nonsense. Not now. No. His rod was even softening. Hell tasted better than this. He sucked in a breath. Held it. He knew what had happened. His shoulder had popped out of joint. He’d handled it before, but it had never hurt like this.

  “My... shoulder...is out.” He finally replied, from between gritted teeth.

  “Shoulder?”

  She sat up, almost a worse fate, since her hands were still holding him, keeping him poised. Positioned. Semi-erect. While her cavern loomed, just out of reach, withholding succor due to the bodysuit thing she wore. And despite everything, his hips were still pushing upward. Pumping. Each time creating a vortex of enticement that was almost enough to cancel any pain; erase any ill; conquer any ache.

  Almost.

  “I got
put on...their rack,” he bit out.

  Her eyes went wide, showcasing their beauty. Her hands slackened their grip on him, and then dropped away. Lucien bit back a cry that would’ve contained more than pain. It would’ve resounded with frustration. He managed to contain it, watching as her eyes narrowed, and then her upper lip lifted in a snarl. She looked deadly. Intent. Murderous.

  “You were stretched...until your shoulder separated?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh...those...bastards. Oh, Lucien. I hope you killed each and every one of them. After you made them suffer. Complete agony. Total.”

  “Akron...handled...that...part.”

  He put a pause between each word, hoping she wouldn’t know the reason why. He was preparing. Psyching himself. Steadying his nerves.

  “Okay. As long as they paid. So. What can I do? What do you need?”

  “Don’t move.”

  Lucien lifted his left side and jerked backwards, slamming his shoulder into the floor again. The joint slipped into place, but it sent a shot of agony for company. He stiffened as every nerve ending felt it for the briefest second. And then it changed. Any pain waned...becoming a dull thud. And then it dissipated. Just like that. And the entire time she hovered above him, watching with eyes so full of unshed tears, they glowed.

  “It’s all right, Ashley,” he whispered.

  His words weren’t the right ones. Or something. He watched her blink and tears slid onto her cheeks.

  “But they hurt you.”

  “Centuries ago.”

  “But Lucien...”

  He craned his neck, bringing her throat into reach. It was the only skin available above her suit. He’d meant to kiss, but it became something more as he slid his tongue along her flesh. Selected a perfect vein. Pierced. And then sucked. He felt her do the same to him before starting all sorts of sinuous movements along him. And there wasn’t anything in the world except this.