Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection
Page 217
Even through his suffering, she saw the revulsion in his eyes. “I don’t want to drink blood. Yours or anyone else’s.” His eyes closed briefly, then opened. “You’re not human.”
Natalya gently gripped him by the shoulders, and pulled him forward. “You have no choice. You can feed from me, at least until this crisis has passed.” She pulled him closer. “You truly have no other choice.”
He protested, but only feebly, as she pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, but the flash of hunger in his eyes told her that he wouldn’t be able to resist for very long. In a moment, his tongue caressed her neck, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. Her nipples pearled instantly, and a shiver of intense pleasure coursed through her body. She had never fed another before, and whether this was normal or not, she didn’t know. And now, as his lips met her skin, she didn’t really care.
His hands slid along the curve of her hip, over the bodice of her dress. His fingers finally touched the skin of her neck, slipping beneath her dress to caress her shoulders, drawing her closer. Natalya slid down into the bed, her body pressed against Caine’s.
His fangs brushed against her skin, then slid into her, as if her skin was gossamer. The pain was fleeting, replaced by a rush of pleasure. It started as a tingling on the surface of her skin, before spreading like wildfire through her entire body, warmth finally settling deep between her hips. Her breasts suddenly felt heavy, the sensation of her tender nipples rubbing against her dress almost too exquisite to bear.
She’d fed one other in her time, and it had not been like this. Not like this at all. She wanted to freeze this moment forever, to never stop feeling like this.
Then Caine was pushing himself against her hip, and his arousal was so very clear, that she gasped. She shuddered, as he flexed his hips forward, a low moan escaping his lips. It wasn’t just her, or the feeding, but something else happening between them. Something she never expected.
She didn’t know how long he fed from her. She was too lost in the haze of pleasure that covered her, enveloped her, caressed her. Pleasure that he shared. It made her heart sing.
It seemed an eternity, before he finally lifted his head, sliding his hand to the nape of her neck, pushing her head up to meet him. She had the vague thought she should have stopped him sooner, that he’d taken too much. She focused on Caine, on him lying beside her, his hand twisting in her hair.
His eyes burned like white-hot coals. It was clear his thirst was slaked. But what burned in his eyes now was lust. Lust for her, pure and simple. She opened her mouth to say something, but there were no words. She wanted to tell him this was what she’d wanted, to have a man look at her like this, like he wanted to devour her. But no sound came from her lips, save a sigh.
“Natalya,” he whispered hoarsely, tracing her cheeks with his fingertip. His forefinger glided over her bottom lip, and her tongue darted out to taste his flesh—salty, sweet, and warm. His groan of pleasure sent another rush of heat through her, and she tilted her head to meet his lips as they met hers. His tongue flicked against her lips, once, twice, and then she parted her lips for him.
The metallic taste of her blood filled her mouth, oddly compelling, made even more seductive by the taste of Caine’s. Tangy copper threaded with smoky spice, and the deep taste of the man himself. It was addicting, and suddenly she couldn’t get enough. Fingers tangling in his hair, she pressed his hard body closer against hers, no longer chilled with bloodlust, but hot with the lifeblood she’d just fed him flowing through his veins. She shifted on the bed, throwing one thigh over his hip. She felt his heat and hardness through the folds of her skirt, and it excited her in a way she never thought was possible. She pushed herself against him, hard, aching for more contact.
“Oh God, Natalya,” he groaned against her mouth. “I...I don’t...”
The desire in his voice mirrored her own, but it was the threads of uncertainty she heard, that had her stopping cold. What was she doing? He had just been attacked, nearly drained by Gabriel, and here she was riding him like some harlot. Or an animal in mating heat, completely selfish, with no regard to his feelings.
“I’m so sorry.” She scrambled off him and the bed, tugging her dress around her hips, and keeping her eyes trained near her feet. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you like this. Forgive me.”
Without once looking at him, she turned and fled the room.
IT WAS MORNING. IT was time to face what he was, in broad daylight. Bracing himself, Caine turned the door handle and pulled it open, allowing sunlight to flood the doorway, and hit him directly in his face. He counted to ten, waiting for his skin to catch on fire, but when nothing happened, he stepped outside and shut the door. He closed his eyes and smiled, lifting his head, listening to the birds, as if it was the first time he’d heard them sing.
His legs trembled with the effort of standing, but he ignored it. He could stand in the sun! He would not be doomed to stay in the shadows, to only be allowed to walk the Earth when the sun had set. He might even be able to go home to his family.
An image flashed in his head, of Natalya straddling his lap, the pale column of her throat curved back, as he drank from her, her sweet, dark blood washing over his tongue as he sucked at her throat. He couldn’t see her face, but he’d heard her moans, felt her hardened nipples abrade his bare chest through the fabric of her dress. The combination of desire, his and hers, and her sweet blood on his lips had his own body responding, almost flying out of control. Kissing her had been a nearly transcendent experience—he’d never met a woman who tasted so good. And when she’d started rubbing herself against him...
God. He would have pushed up her skirt, and taken her right then and there, if she hadn’t pulled away. Maybe she’d done the right thing, pulling away. Everything was so confusing. He didn’t know how to think about her, or about what he’d become. She was a vampire, and he’d been human. Now he was caught somewhere between her world, and his, with no solid foot in either land.
But yet she wasn’t a monster. She’d been kind to him, and had never once responded to his barbs in anger, but shown only humility and guilt—an emotion he’d never associate with vampires. She’d not only given him food and clothing, but had shared blood from her own body with him to save him.
He was certain she felt the same as he did. It was clear from the way her body reacted, the heat and passion he felt coming from her in waves. It wasn’t just him, and it wasn’t just the act of feeding him. It was more, deeper. It was the same deep longing he had for her. But why had she bolted from him? He might’ve been weak, but he wasn’t an invalid. There was something else, a reluctance from Natalya that confused him, and defied logic.
He shook his head. He was no longer sick with fever, caught in a web of dreams and hallucinations. Here he was, standing outside in broad daylight, his mind clear and body stronger, and he still wanted her. From inside the house, he heard her soft breathing, as she slept in the darkness of her room. It came to him as a small shock that he could hear her, smell her, through thick walls and closed doors. The powers she’d spoken of; the abilities he’d have. This must be those powers. Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath, pulling her scent deep into his body, into his very soul.
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, and he had to make an effort to stay upright, leaning against the doorframe. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his bare torso, surprised to find that his chest and arms were turning red—sunburn. He touched his chest with his fingertips, and winced at the pain. Sadness filled him: he really was a Nequam, no longer able to stand in the sun, and not suffer its consequences.
Finally, he turned and stumbled back inside the house. Natalya was right. He was weak, weaker than he wanted to admit. And somewhere deep within him, something—maybe the final shred of his humanity—faded and died. He was no longer Caine, the humble fisherman. He was Caine, Nequam vampire.
NATALYA WOKE, AS THE sun slipped below the horizon, its harmful rays once more o
ut of reach, unable to harm her. She stretched, the thin blanket sliding down over the black silk gown she wore. The feel of it against her skin brought a small smile to her face, and she ran her hands down her body, enjoying the touch of it. It was sensual and soft and sleek, one of the creature comforts she stubbornly hung on to. Another was sleeping in a bed, with all the blankets and pillows she could.
The darkness surrounded her, familiar as a blanket, just as comforting. But, as always, something was missing. The company of a man, a friend...a lover in her bed. She’d had that in her old life, and it left a huge hole in her heart, in her life. To have someone to wake up to, to wake up with, to share her life with...but it was too much to think about, maybe too much to ask for.
She stretched again, and her arm hit the wall, and her smile deepened. Ironically, there was a man in her bed. This wasn’t her bed. This was the small outshot bed in the kitchen alcove. Caine was sleeping in her bed, in her room, with all her silk pillows and brocaded blankets. She’d put him there the night she’d brought him home, and that’s where he still slept.
Sighing, she slipped her legs out from beneath the coverlet, and touched her feet to the flagged floor. The first thing she needed to do was see Caine, make sure he was alright. Sighing, she pulled a robe around her shoulders, and pulled aside the heavy curtain screening the alcove.
When she stepped into the kitchen, Caine was waiting for her. Leaning against the wall, the single candle in his hand illuminating his face, he was both beautiful and sinister—looking very much like the Nequam he was becoming. The planes of his cheeks were sharper, his nose a bit thinner, a hungry, almost feral cast, coming over his features. Her heart leapt in her chest at the sight of him. She was suddenly conscious of the scant covering the silk gown provided, and she clutched the robe with trembling fingers.
“Are you going hunting?” His voice was low, and even the simple words, the routine question sounded somehow seductive. She shook her head; all this was just her imagination, wishful thinking.
She glanced up at him, drawing a breath. “Yes. I need to feed, and I’ll bring back something for you.”
“I want to come with you.” He squared his shoulders, eyes defiant in the light of the candle.
Natalya shook her head. “It’s too soon, too dangerous. You’re not well enough yet, not strong enough.” All the reasons, or excuses, she could think of spilled from her lips. Protective feelings rose in her chest. It was too soon, and he was too weak. But she knew he wasn’t going to give up that easily.
She moved past him to her room, walking to the chest in the corner that held her hunting clothes. As she brushed past him, she caught his scent: rich, deep, heady. It sent a rush through her body and images of feeding him, rose up unbidden.
With a shaky hand, she opened the lid of the chest. Dresses were fine, and she loved wearing them, but they were impossible to hunt in. She pulled out black breeches and the black tunic she favored, tall black boots with which she could fly like the wind through the forest, silent, on her nightly hunting forays.
Caine grunted. “I can’t just sit here cowering in this house, letting you feed me like a pet. If I’m going to survive in this new... form, you’re going to have to teach me how to hunt, to take care of myself.”
She turned and frowned at him, the truth in his words cutting her to the quick. “You’re so eager to take a human life to prove your worth?”
“Have I any choice?” The hint of bitterness in his voice had her throat tightening. “At some point in this life, I’m going to have to start.”
“We could hunt animals,” she said after a moment. “Their blood is not as satisfying as a human’s, but it will do. At least...until we...you’ve had a chance to think about this a little longer.”
A long moment passed before he finally nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.” He turned and strode out of the room. Natalya watched him leave with a heavy heart, and began dressing. It was never easy, even for her, taking the life of a human, but for Caine it was going to be doubly hard. And it was too soon. She knew that in her heart. It was too soon.
She took him to a forest far away from where she’d found him. No need to put temptation in his face. His own village was just on the other side of the lake, and if he were overcome with bloodlust, well, the further away they were from his people, the better.
It was very strange to have him so close to her, and though he was obviously not at full strength yet, his virility and emerging power were electrifying. She suspected that if he’d been turned into a full vampire, he would be powerful enough to have his own Seethe, even as such a newly minted vampire.
He was a fast learner, and in no time was flitting through the trees along with her, quieter than the flutter of a moth’s wing. He was able to catch a brace of rabbits, and she stood by and watched, as he sank his fangs into his first kill, wondering if mothers felt the kind of pride she did, watching him. Except that nothing else she felt for him could be called motherly.
“It’s bitter,” he finally said, after tossing the second rabbit carcass aside. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes fixed on hers. “Not sweet, like yours.” A mixture of hunger and pleasure flashed in his eyes, and a wave of heat washed over her, a strange weakness that made her legs tremble quickly following.
“Animal blood is a poor substitute...” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
“For humans?” He drew closer to her. His scent came to her, now tinged with the blood of his kill, and tinged with an edge of arousal and lust.
“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, struggling for control. “Yes. I would offer to let you feed from me again, but I haven’t fed, and it would weaken me.”
Caine took another step closer. “Pity. I enjoyed that immensely.” He reached out, his hand running up her arm, caressing her, fingers warm on her neck. “Here...it’s where I bit you.” He leaned forward, his lips brushing her neck.
A sigh broke her lips, and she tilted her head back. Caine slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body, and she rested her hands against his broad chest.
His tongue caressed her, leaving trails of fire on her skin. She sighed again, as he kissed her, his lips and tongue working magic on her body. As his fangs brushed against her softly, questioningly, she almost gave in. What would it hurt if he fed? It would feel just as wonderful as before. Just a little, just a few drops...
“I see you have yourself a new pet. Tell me, does he do tricks?”
Caine broke away from her with a snarl, as Natalya spun toward the familiar, sneering voice.
“Gabriel!”
He was leaning against a tree, a sinister grin on his face.
“What are you doing here?” She stepped away from Caine before she realized he had tensed beside her, ready to lunge at Gabriel. When she stepped forward, she set a hand on his arm and he turned, snarling at her.
“Down, boy. Haven’t you taught him any manners? You’d think in all the time you’d spent watching over him, you’d have realized he was just an uncivilized human.”
“I asked what you are doing here.”
He laughed darkly. “Don’t you mean ‘why aren’t you still being punished?’”
Natalya’s cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze. “And so what if I do? Your behavior was inexcusable. I can’t believe she let you go.”
“She seemed to think inflicting a curse on me that prevented healing, then flaying the skin off my back was good enough.” Gabriel’s eyes glowed menacingly. “Thankfully, one of her ladies-in-waiting took pity on me, and gave me a restorative potion, so the majority of my wounds are healed. Strange how I can get pretty much every vampire woman to fall at my feet save you, Natalya.”
“So this is the one.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement from Caine. He stepped forward before Natalya could respond. “The one who tried to kill me.”
Gabriel sketched a mocking bow. “I would say it’s a pleasure t
o make your acquaintance, but we both know that is a lie.”
Caine curled his fingers into fists. His dark brows were drawn over his eyes, his jaw set at a defiant angle. “Why would you do such a thing? I’ve never done anything to harm you.”
Gabriel arched a brow. “Why should I give you my reasons? You’re simply cattle. Your sole purpose is to feed my kind. The lion does not give his reasons to the antelope, before he brings it down.”
An inarticulate noise broke from Caine’s throat, and he lunged for Gabriel.
“Don’t!” Natalya threw her arms around his waist, dragging him to a halt.
Gabriel laughed, crossing his arms and leaning against the tree. “Are you going to let a woman hold you back? You’re weaker than I thought.”
“Caine, stop. Don’t listen to him.” Natalya hissed in Caine’s ear. “He’s trying to goad you into attacking him, so he can finish you off without retribution. If you attack him unprovoked, he can kill you without punishment from our Seethe Mistress.”
Beneath her hands, Caine’s chest rose rapidly, his eyes hazed red with hate. Gradually he stopped struggling, then removed Natalya’s hands from around his torso. “You’re not worth the trouble,” he sneered at Gabriel. “I’ll take my revenge on my own terms, not yours.” He spat on the ground, backing away from Gabriel. Gabriel’s expression changed from condescendingly amused, to outright livid.
“You will pay for this, Natalya.” His steely gaze found hers, and a shiver rolled down her spine at the hate she saw there. “I won’t forgive you for siding with filth like him. With a Nequam, of all things.”
“And you...” He pointed to Caine. “This isn’t over between us, Nequam whelp. Watch your back.”
With a final murderous glance, Gabriel drew the shadows around him like a cloak, and then vanished.
It wasn’t until Caine put his arm around her, that Natalya realized she was shaking. He drew her against him, his arm around her shoulders.