A Vampire's Saving Embrace

by Darlene Kuncytes

  “Of course.” He was back in a moment, lifting her up against the headboard of the bed. She drank the water greedily - trying valiantly to calm her beating heart.

  “Sweetness?” he murmured softly, taking the glass from her hands – his sea blue depths imploring her. “Please answer me. Why did you leave?”

  “I…I,” she stammered, her heart being ripped apart once again. Damn it! How much more pain and loss could she take before she just burned out? In the first moments after waking, she could almost believe that he cared for her, and she wanted that more than she had ever wanted anything before – but the harsh reality was that it wasn’t her he wanted - it was her blood. Her cursed blood.

  She wished he would have just drained her dry in that dungeon and had been done with it. At least she would have died knowing that she had saved him. “I heard you and Marcus talking,” she said, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. It was time to let him know that she knew the truth and if he decided to finish her off and suck the life from her – then so be it. She realized as she had watched him fall to the ground that she had no life without him anyway.

  A look of confusion crossed his features and he took her hand. “I’m afraid that I don’t understand. You heard us talking about what?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes and she turned her head away from him – not wanting him to see the pain his betrayal caused her. His hand cupped her cheek gently, turning her back to face him. “Abigail, please,” he urged, and she swore she saw genuine affection and fear in his eyes.

  “I know you only want my blood Desmond,” she choked out, and heard him gasp. “But I beg you - take it all at once. Please… don’t let me linger here,” she whispered, as her tears slid down her face. She tried to force them back, but found it impossible. This just hurt too damn much.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled, realization dawning on him. “Damn Marcus to Hell!” He took her hands in his and held her gaze, sitting beside her on the bed. “Oh, baby…” he murmured. “What you heard was Marcus- in his own very brash, very ignorant way- trying to make me admit what I was too afraid and much too foolish to admit.”

  “And what was that?” She asked softly, sniffling as her tiny hands trembled in his.

  “That I love you, Abby.” Abby’s jaw dropped- her eyes widening. She couldn’t have heard him right. He loved her? Oh Lord, she silently cried, please let me not be dreaming. Please let this be the truth. “You what,” she stammered -not trusting herself to actually have heard him correctly.

  “I love you,” he said again, his mouth turning up at the corners as his gaze held hers, his eyes swimming with all the emotion he felt and Abby’s breathing stopped. It actually stopped. “You are everything to me. You are my heart, my soul - my very existence. I have walked this earth for over two hundred and fifty years an empty shell - waiting for you to complete me,” he stated softly, and a part of her soared. “But Abby, there is something I do need to explain to you before you say anything.” He seemed nervous and she felt her heart jump into her throat, her mouth going dry despite all the water she had just consumed. She nodded slowly, not sure if she would want to hear what he had to say.

  He loved her yet - couldn’t be with her? That this would never work between them? She swallowed with difficulty, all sorts of scenarios running around in her head, and none of them were good.

  “Because of my feelings for you,” he said, his thumbs lightly tracing small circles on the tops of her hands - causing that damn electric current to run through her body. “When I drank from you, I bonded myself to you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. You bonded yourself to me?” What in the hell did that mean?

  Desmond sighed, his expression one of fear and Abby couldn’t help but be amazed that this self-assured, gorgeous man seemed so timid and unsure of himself. What the hell? “I claimed you as my mate,” he explained, looking down at the hands that he still held onto tightly – as if afraid to let them go.

  “Mate,” Abby whispered, thinking back to the conversation she and Luke had had, and how rare it was for a vampire to choose a mate. “You didn’t mean to –did you?” she asked, her breath coming out in a rush and her heart breaking at the thought of his not wanting this. Luke had told her that vampire’s very rarely ever found their mate – so how could she even have a glimmer of hope that she was his? “That… that’s why you fought so hard not to drink from me – wasn’t it?” She asked, her heartbeat speeding up as she remembered how she had to practically blackmail him into taking her blood, and her heart sank.

  Cripes – this is not what he had wanted. Did it just happen - no matter if it was intended to or not? She knew how serious this was and if he hadn’t wanted it - then she would have to let him go. That is if she could. They hadn’t discussed what it meant if only one of the pair wanted to be bonded, but before she could stop herself the question came flying out. “What if one of the two doesn’t want to be mated,” she asked quietly - her heart slamming painfully in her chest.

  Desmond’s eye’s snapped back up to hers and she knew, beyond a doubt, that she saw real genuine pain in them. “Then I won’t stand in your way if you choose to leave,” he replied so softly and with such emotion, that Abby felt her heart stop. Wish to leave – her? He couldn’t be serious? Cripes! “You are not bound to me Abby. You are free to go anytime you wish.”

  Holy Hell! All she wanted was to be with him - to spend the rest of eternity in his arms. She figured that he would have to turn her, but if it meant spending forever with him – it would be well worth it. She supposed she could get use to drinking blood, she thought - gulping slightly. She would do whatever it took to be with this man.

  “Desmond, I’m not saying that it’s me,” she explained. “Luke told me how rare it is for a vampire to choose a mate.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I need to know if this was what you wanted.”

  Desmond felt a pang of jealousy hit him at the mention of Luke - but quickly shook it off. “More than I have ever wanted anything before.” He stated softly - his gaze intense. He needed her to realize that he was telling her the truth. That he wanted her and no one else –ever. That she was everything to him. She was his mate. “I felt a connection to you from the moment I first set eyes on you in that dingy bar - but couldn’t understand why. I was drawn to you in a way that was foreign and frightening and I tried over and over to distance myself from you – but it was impossible. Christ, I don’t even know what possessed me to go there in the first place. I just felt the need to go – and when I saw you that very first night - I found myself thinking of you constantly. Abby, you are my destiny, my love – my very existence - and the entire time I lay there on the floor of that place, my only thought was that you are mine and I will kill any man who dares touch you.”

  Abby pulled her hands free from his and in the next instant had flung herself into his arms – hugging him to her tightly – ignoring her body’s painful protest. “I love you, Desmond LaGrange,” she murmured against his neck, greedily taking in his scent and smiled happily when she felt him shiver. “More than you could ever know.” He returned her embrace only a moment before pulling away from her.

  “Abby, there’s more…” he stammered. “You need to know who I am - what I’ve done.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if willing himself the courage to go on. Finally, he looked at her again, his expression one of remorse, and an ancient sadness that caused Abby’s breath to catch in her throat. “I’ve killed countless demons, and in the process - innocents were lost at my hands.” She felt the sorrow of his words and a tear slid down her cheek for him. My God, she thought in disbelief - this man believed he wasn’t worthy of being loved. That he was a killer! When that was the furthest thing from the truth.

  “I’ve killed – never worrying who might have been hurt in the process. I just considered it to be collateral damage. When I was newly turned, I killed to survive. I couldn’t fight the bloodlust that controlled me and it took many years
and many lives for me to learn to tame that need in me. Then when I met your father… I again became what I feared most – a killer and a monster.” He finished softly, his eyes filled with sadness. “I just didn’t care.”

  Abby gently feathered her lips against his and felt his sharp intake of breath. “I don’t believe that for a moment,” she breathed, her eyes shining. “You are not a monster, Desmond,” she softly, but firmly, corrected - her finger tracing his bottom lip lovingly. “You are kind and loving and the most amazing man I have ever met. You have comforted me, protected me and cared for me more in these past few days than anyone ever has in my entire life. You make me feel safe and happier than I ever thought I could. You have to forgive yourself. The simple fact that it has bothered you so is proof enough that it did affect you.” She tenderly stroked his face, willing him to accept the complete truth of her words. “What you were doing was a noble and courageous thing, and yes, there may have been lives lost – but you have to also consider how many were saved because of you!”

  Desmond shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “How can you say that?” He questioned her breathlessly - his eyes filled with disbelief. “My past has surrounded me in nothing but pain and death. And yet with my being surrounded in all of this horror – you could still wish to be with me? You could still love me in spite of what I am?” He whispered, incredulous - fear keeping him from hoping that he was hearing her correctly. If she decided to leave, he knew that he would no longer exist.

  Abby smiled, her face alight with the emotions rushing through her. “Desmond, I love you because of what you are. A warm, gentle, considerate man who has made me feel things I never could have ever imagined feeling. You make me feel safe and cherished and the only thing that frightens me is the thought of not having you in my life.”

  She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and tilted her head to the side, exposing the alabaster curve of her neck. “Make me yours,” she murmured huskily - her gaze burning into his. “Forever.”

  “Abigail, what in the hell are you talking about?” he gasped, utter shock crossing his strong, perfect features. She lifted her head and looked at him, puzzled. “Don’t you need to turn me into a vampire,” she asked, and watched as Desmond’s entire body tensed.

  “Never,” he breathed in response – his eyes wide. “I would never do that to you.” He looked completely repulsed by the very idea and Abby felt her heart sink - completely confused as to why, if he wanted to be mated to her -he didn’t want to be with her for eternity.

  “But Desmond, I want to be with you forever. I don’t want to grow old and have to leave you behind. I…I just couldn’t bear that. One lifetime with you just isn’t enough.” Her eyes welled with tears and she watched in stunned silence as he finally relaxed, his lips turning up at the corners in the beginning of a smile.

  He pulled her to him, pressing her face against his steely chest. “Oh, my precious, precious love,” he murmured. “You shall have me for eternity. Your fey blood will see to that.”

  She leaned back slightly, looking into the blue depths of his eyes, “My fey… you mean I’m…I’m immortal?”

  Desmond nodded, his lips whispering across hers. “You will not age, nor die – but will be able to go out in the sun and remain exquisitely human.” After a moment he looked at her again, once more that cloud of doubt shadowing his eyes. “Are you certain, Abby?” He asked, as if he desperately needed the reassurance - and she was utterly astounded by his uncertainty. Her big, strong – fearless vampire was unsure. “You are positive you wish to spend eternity with me?”

  Abby smiled again, stroking her fingers across his cheek. “Silly vampire,” she murmured, her eyes sparkling happily - and Desmond could feel her love. It wrapped around him like a soft blanket and he groaned as he pulled her tightly to his chest - his body burning with need.

  “Abby, there is a bonding ceremony I wish to complete which will bind you to me as my mate,” he said against her hair, pressing his body closer and Abby could feel his steely shaft nudging itself against her belly. A moan escaped her as her eyes slid closed – the soreness in her muscles disappearing with his touch. “Anything…” she replied dreamily, wriggling against him - and Desmond grinned.

  Chapter 13

  Desmond knelt on the bed. Pulling Abby up to face him, he removed his shirt - his eyes locking with hers. Reaching over into the nightstand drawer, he brought out a small dagger and slowly ran the blade against his chest, directly above his heart. A thin line of blood appeared immediately, causing Abby to gasp, her eyes growing wide.

  “Once the bonding ceremony is complete, my love,” he explained softly, his expression intense. “You will always feel me…” he lightly placed his hand to her heart, “here. You will know my thoughts and feelings as I will know yours. There will be no secrets between us. You will be stronger, faster and completely mine - as I will be yours. I will protect and cherish you for eternity and I promise to spend every day making you happy. Now drink- my mate,” he lovingly commanded, and Abby found herself unable to resist.

  The pull of this man was much too strong to not override her aversion to blood and there was nothing more she wanted than to give herself completely to him. To be his forever, bound by the love they shared. The thought of being with this man forever caused a flutter of happiness to hit her – bringing a contented smile to her face. She leaned forward, her tongue darting from between her lips and lightly licked the fluid from his chest.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath and pressed her lips against him, suckling gently as she felt him shudder. His hand went to the back of her head, pulling her even closer as a moan escaped him- his head falling back. She remembered the sensation of it when he had drunk from her and wondered if it felt the same for him - a spectacular euphoria washing over his body?

  Surprisingly, Desmond’s blood tasted wonderful to Abby. It was thick and rich and sweet and tasted wholly of him – that spicy, outdoor essence - and before she realized it, she was drinking greedily - feeling his power surging through her with each pull that she took.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist to pull his body closer and he complied instantly. When she felt his hardness press into her belly - that familiar tingle hit her at her core, and she finally leaned back from his chest – quickly and thoroughly licking the wound.

  She watched the place where she had taken his blood – waiting to see the skin fuse together, but a moment later looked up at him with concern clouding her eyes as she saw the small crescent shaped scar appear. It was about an inch in length, directly above his heart and was a deep scarlet in color. Oh, God, she thought miserably, he’s not healing as he should. Did my blood do something to him? Did it weaken him?

  “Desmond?” she whispered, her unease evident as she tried to bite back the fear that was creeping up her spine. What had she done to him?

  He opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze filled with a passion that was crackling around him like an electrical storm. “Hmm?”

  “You…you didn’t heal completely,” she said, tracing her finger along the scar, her brows furrowed as a deep, gnawing dread filled her and her eyes glistened with tears. She could not handle it if she had caused him any harm.

  Desmond pulled her to him, so that there wasn’t the least bit of space between their bodies. “That, my love, is to show the world that I am your mate,” he explained huskily, “I belong to only you. This is my brand that I wear proudly - to let all know that there will never be another.” He leaned his head forward and took her lips with all the need and yearning that she herself felt.

  “Don’t I get one?” She asked against his mouth and felt him smile. He reluctantly leaned away from her and lifted her wrist. There, where there had once been two small puncture marks, was a crescent shaped mark identical to his. “Holy hell,” she breathed and Desmond laughed, kissing the brand tenderly.

  “Would you prefer a ring, my mate?” he asked softly.

 
“Not at all. In fact, I love this. It’s… it’s so permanent - just like us.” Desmond kissed her wrist again, his eyes shining. “Still, my wife will have a proper ring and human ceremony.”

  “That really isn’t necessary,” she argued. She was completely content with the way things were. “Remember, I’m a t-shirt and jeans kind of girl.”

  Desmond burst out laughing. “That is about to change, my love. I plan on spoiling you rotten! Nothing but the finest for my wife…my mate.”

  “Des?” She looked up into his face, her cheeks turning red.

  “Yes, sweetness,” he murmured, his mouth trailing kisses down her forearm, up her shoulder - to her neck.

  “You won’t ever…I mean, you won’t grow tired of me, will you? Forever is a very long time. And I have been told on several occasions that I can be an exasperating handful.”

  “Never!” He growled, and in wonder, she felt the passion in which he spoke. She felt his desire – his Contentment - but most of all his happiness and his love.

  He threw her back onto the bed and hovered above her, his eyes flashing silver – causing a giggle to erupt from her. “You are mine!” He declared possessively, his voice a low, seductive growl and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was true. She was his – just as he was hers. Forever.

  “Oh, such a big, scary vampire you are,” she teased, her body responding to his in the most delightful ways.

  “And what a tasty little fey you are.” He replied, before capturing her mouth with his. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue staking claim as he ground his hips against her -causing her to cry out her need when his hardness made contact with the sensitive area which was throbbing in anticipation and longing.

  Her hands went to the waist of the trousers he still wore and she tried desperately to free him of them. He laughed again, breaking their kiss. “So impatient,” he scolded, but his eyes were gleaming with desire, and in an instant his pants were being thrown across the room. He looked down at the shirt she wore and broke out into a huge, smug - very pleased with himself smile.