by Caris Roane
She put her hand on Gerrod’s back and suddenly what had seemed so simple, like yelling at him for being rude, just wasn’t. He was trembling from head to foot, like the plague had gotten hold of him in the past few seconds. She could feel heat flowing from him.
She looked back at Elena whose elf eyes were about the size of saucers. Abigail jerked her head in the direction of the bakery proper and Elena shot out of the storeroom like she’d been fired from a cannon.
When Abigail was alone with Gerrod and without removing her hand from him, she moved beside him then in front of him. He was sweating badly and his fangs were heavy on his lips.
“Oh, God,” she murmured.
Suddenly her heart pounded. She felt her blood swirling through her veins and now her blood was all lumpish again. Why was she so responsive to this absurd vampire? It almost felt as though she was making all this extra blood just for him. But that was ridiculous.
She wasn’t sure exactly what she needed to do right now, but at the very least she was pretty sure that what was going to happen next ought to be private. She closed the door behind her and stretched out her neck at just the right angle. “Are those just for show, or are you prepared to do something with those two sharp points?”
The sound he made was beyond description, like a gargled roar and shout combined. He grabbed her shoulders and with one hand caught the back of her head, holding her immobile.
He licked her neck in long slow swipes, gargling his growl a little more. He wasn’t real right now, he was a beast, and his frequency had begun to pound on her, punching at her body so that soon she was limp and that’s when he struck, when he felt her whole body surrender.
She felt the hard length of him against her. He drank and drank and with each sucking down of her blood, her heart grew easier and happier, lighter, more fluid.
At the same time, her need for him rose, to have all that beautiful mass that had pleasured her just a few hours ago, inside her once more. She shifted her hand slightly and as soon as he felt what she was doing he created just enough space that she could glide her hand down the front of his leathers.
She found him and rubbed, then groaned. An ache grew, deep inside. Her body responded with deep pulls as though trying to draw within what was held away from her.
He released her neck, but his growls remained.
Off, his mind cried. Now.
She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t understand. The vampire had a plan and her body was so on board. She lost her jeans and her thong.
With a speed that became a blur of movement, he got his boots and pants off. She gave a little cry as he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up into the air, then planted her against the door. Good thing the storeroom door was made of solid wood.
She wrapped her legs around him as he slid one large hand to cup her buttocks and tilt her hips. He was chuffing against her neck as he pressed against her entrance, then pushed inside.
She groaned long and loud and hoped to hell Elena had had the good sense to leave the building along with Ethan.
“Can’t….help…this,” he whispered against her ear. Then he was pumping hard.
“Can’t…help…loving…this,” she responded. She giggled then cooed then groaned as the vampire settled into a brisk rhythm, his frequency showering her body head to foot as though touching her with a thousand fingertips all at the same time. Without meaning to, she was suddenly shouting at the ceiling, her head arched, as Gerrod slammed into her, all that movement making a drum out of the door. But the orgasm rolled, tugging at her and pulling and swirling, so she kept on shouting.
As he came, his roar filled the small space and for a moment she went deaf. She felt the jerks of his cock, as his rhythm changed then slowed.
He was panting hard.
Her breathing had the sound of bellows.
She looked up at him. His eyes were closed. He seemed dazed.
She was dazed. Stunned, her lips parted. Her mind seemed a little mushy. She felt certain what she had just done with him wasn’t a good idea, but her rational mind refused to give her even one reason as to why that might be. Or maybe it was because all the pleasure flowing through her veins wasn’t allowing her brain to function at all.
Yeah, that was more like it.
When he opened his eyes, he stared into hers. She stared back. Maybe she blinked. She wasn’t sure.
“Oh, Gerrod,” she murmured. Then she leaned up and kissed him. He seemed hesitant, almost reluctant, then his arms slipped fully around her and he returned the kiss, sinking his tongue deep.
Heaven, she pathed. Just heaven.
Yesssss, returned to her, almost a soft breeze through her mind, a pleasant sensation, so new, yet familiar as though she’d waited for telepathy her entire life.
Oh, good God in heaven. Was she tumbling in love with a vampire?
After a few minutes of more kissing, he pulled out of her and lowered her so that her feet touched the floor.
“Abigail, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. Dear Goddess, I was completely out of control.” He put a hand over his face.
She caught his hand and pulled it down, holding it pressed to her heart. “It’s okay. I was with you all the way. One hundred percent. A willing participant.”
“But, it’s not okay.”
“Well, one thing is for sure, you can’t keep doing that. I mean, all Ethan did was take my hand.”
“It wasn’t that. You tapped his frequency. I could feel it.”
“That’s right, I did. It was so weird.”
But his body stiffened all over again and he had to work to calm down. “Apparently, there’s more going on here, more than I comprehend. Just…don’t ever touch another mastyr vampire again.”
“You think this would be true of all mastyr vampires?”
“Even the thought of it torments me.”
She shook her head. “I’m just trying to understand.”
He nodded. “Very well, my instincts tell me that you could reach the personal energy of any master vampire.”
“Well, then I don’t think it’ll be a problem since there are so few of you. And because it bothers you, of course I won’t touch Ethan again. I promise. Or any others.”
He appeared stunned, his eyes wide. “Just like that, without argument?”
She smiled. “I may be pricklish about many things, but I’ve been in Merhaine for over a year now and I’ve come to understand that there are differences between my specie and yours. I notice that most men don’t draw close to women who don’t belong to them, usually at a pace of five feet. I think this was my fault, but I just liked his smile.”
“Because I don’t smile,” he said, scowling.
She couldn’t help it. She laughed then launched herself against his chest and slung her arms around his waist, which turned out to be a lot of leather coat to hold even though so soft. But the whole thing was absurd. She still wore her tank top and bra, but had nothing on below. And she had her face pressed against the silver-studded Guard belt.
She liked the feel of his bare legs against hers, though. But man, had her life really gotten bizarre.
He was tentative, but after a moment he surrounded her with his arms as well. Which made her sad because this was his truth, that he hadn’t had someone in his life for a long time.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “I’ve grown very fond of your scowl. I may tease you about it but I’ve come to understand that it reflects how serious you take your job as the Mastyr of Merhaine. I really do understand, or at least I try to. I think that was what I saw when I observed you and the community leaders last night through the entrance hall landscape.”
“Indeed? You saw my concern for my realm-folk?”
“The weight you carry on your shoulders.”
“Is that why you…washed my hair?”
She looked up then kissed him again. “I washed your hair because I admire and respect the hell out of you.”
&nb
sp; At that, his scowl softened at least a little and he kissed her back. “You warm my heart.”
“Oh. That is the sweetest thing you could have said.”
He looked away from her, and his scowl deepened once more. “We need to visit Vojalie.”
At that, she backed away from him, feeling her own brows high on her forehead. “I’ve never met her before. I’ve heard of her of course. She’s said to be the most powerful fae in Merhaine.”
“She is. Perhaps in all the Nine Realms. She’s also very wise. But I think we need to understand better what is going on here. With you.”
“And with us?”
“Yes. I want to understand why I could have killed Ethan right now for touching you.”
Abigail nodded. “Well, give me a few minutes, to, uh, make myself presentable.”
He smiled. Well, perhaps just a half smile. But it was all she needed.
*** *** ***
Gerrod worked himself back into his leathers and boots, then left the absurd storage room to give Abigail some privacy. He rolled his eyes, all accusatory thoughts leveled at himself.
He had been badly lacking in control. But he had spoken truly when he said he could have killed Ethan and was glad that his good friend and fellow mastyr had understood his dilemma so quickly. If he hadn’t backed off, Gerrod would have fought him.
Not a good thing.
How had his life gotten so complicated? He did not understand what was going on. He needed advice, good, worthy, fae advice, the kind he always received from Vojalie.
She was pure fae and wed to a very unattractive troll, whom she adored with every fiber of her being. The union had been one of the most stunning of Gerrod’s long life, so unexpected, even absurd, that the elegant, beautiful Vojalie of Shepherd County would have been wooed and won by the homely troll, Davido of Bergisson Realm.
He was very old, perhaps one of the oldest realm-folk Gerrod had ever known. The best historians thought he was perhaps two-thousand-years-old, but Gerrod had a strange feeling that Davido was well beyond that. Davido seemed to take peculiar enjoyment in refusing to reveal his age. He was funny, charming, and devoted to Vojalie, to her comfort, to her security and protection especially when with child as she was now.
He drew his phone from the pocket of his leathers and made the call.
“Vojalie The Wise’s residence, your handsome troll speaking. What might I do for you this fine realm day?”
Gerrod felt his mouth curve up, well at least part of it. “Hallo, Davido. This is Gerrod.”
“Well, by the Goddess’s beautiful pink nipples, how the hell are you?”
Ethan and Davido got along really well, but then they both had deep ties to Bergisson.
He heard Vojalie in the background. “Stop that nonsense. Give the phone to me. Gerrod’s been on my mind for days now.”
“Yes, my lovely one, anything you desire.” Then to Gerrod, he continued, “Heard you got laid last night.”
Gerrod really did need to have a long talk with Gus. Maybe he should seriously think about firing ‘his gossipy troll’s ass’, as Ethan would say.
“I was given a measure of blood by the human and it has bolstered my physical well-being. I wish to bring her to Vojalie to see what she can discern about Mistress Abigail. I,” he cleared his throat, “I nearly battled Ethan for her because she shook his hand.”
The next words were muffled as though Davido held his hand loosely over the phone, but Gerrod could make out the words. “My dearest most pleasing one, love has struck Gerrod at last. He almost killed Ethan over the human, the one called Abigail.”
“Give. Me. The. Phone. You are as bad as Augustus.” Gerrod heard a spitting noise.
A muffled ‘ouch’ followed.
Vojalie did not believe in gossip.
Davido came back on the phone, his voice a few tones higher. “My beloved wishes to speak with you.”
Since some loud smacking sounds followed and a little giggling, Gerrod released an impatient sigh. God save him from romantic couples who, after two-hundred-years of marriage, still behaved as though on their fae-moon.
When Vojalie agreed to meet with them shortly, he got off the phone and went outside. Ethan was across the street staring up at the sign above the bakery.
“Clever,” he said. He had his hands in his pockets rocking back and forth.
Gerrod drew a deep breath, scowled, and after waiting for a couple of cars to pass, crossed to make amends.
“Ever so sorry, Ethan. My apologies.”
Ethan turned and looked at him. First he grinned, then frowned. “So what the fuck’s going on here? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m happy as hell for you. She’s…lovely. She’s also human and—” He paused, his eyes widening. “Holy shit, the Goddess and her seven Elf-lords…did you just take her blood again? How the hell is that possible? Did you…shit, Gerrod, is she dead? No human, no realm can give that much blood one day following the next.”
But since at that moment, Abigail opened the door, smiled and waved, her cheeks still bearing a lovely flush, Ethan’s jaw dropped.
“Do you understand now why I must speak with Vojalie?”
“Uh, hell yeah. Who can donate blood like that? I work from a dozen doneuses at present and I’m still fucking blood-starved.”
Abigail called out, “I just need to speak with Elena, then I’m all yours.”
Then she was all his. Why did his chest tighten like that, as though she had spoken an entire volume of poetry?
He waved in return.
“She…she looks healthier than before. What. The. Fuck?”
“I know. Abigail makes no sense at all in our world.”
“Unless…”
Gerrod turned to Ethan. “Unless what?”
“I’ve heard of this thing, it’s some kind of rose, but… Aw, hell, never mind. Listen, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now. I’m heading back to Bergisson. I’ll stay in touch. And I’ll sure as hell let you know if the Invictus start showing up in bigger numbers or if our realm-folk start disappearing.”
“Good. You want a lift?” He gestured to his car.
Ethan smirked. “What the hell for?” He clapped Gerrod on the shoulder, told him to let his hair down with Abigail, then sped off, pathing his way to the Bergisson entry point in the northeast portion of the Merhaine Realm.
Gerrod wondered what ‘letting his hair down’ with Abigail had to do with anything. Besides, he had already done that last night, which had been extraordinary.
He waited for several cars to pass, as well as a young troll on a bicycle, before he crossed back to the bakery. He glanced up the street and waved his car forward.
By the time Abigail finished up with Elena, the car was ready and he ushered her inside.
The funny thing was, she didn’t move to the other side, but instead, sat in the middle and as soon as he shut the door, she grabbed his left arm and wrapped it over her shoulders. She settled against him and sighed.
She was such a strange creature. He looked down at her and after a moment, he allowed his arm to relax and surround her. He even pressed her arm with his hand. He hadn’t done this in so long that he had forgotten how to do it, how to be with a woman. He tried not to think how good it felt.
She looked up at him. With his free hand, he cupped her neck and thumbed her jaw. He leaned down and kissed her. He had meant it only to be something soft, without tongue, but before he could even think, he was pushing into her mouth and she writhed against him.
His frequency lit up almost at once, as though it knew Abigail better than his rational mind did.
Oh, God, Gerrod, that wave. It’s like magic and so seductive. You could take me again. Right here.
He could. He could do it now. He wanted to push her onto her back and take care of business.
He drew back panting. She stared at him, lips parted, breathing hard. “My God, what you can do to me. Are you sure it isn’t some kind of vampire thrall? I mean, seriously.
”
He chuckled. “Not possible. Doesn’t exist. Vampires can’t enthrall.” But he kept shaking his head. He’d never been with a woman like this.
Only then did he realize the car wasn’t moving.
He glanced at the front seat and saw that his driver was staring forward, quite studiously. Good man. “To Vojalie’s.”
“Yes, mastyr.”
*** *** ***
Abigail had not been to many realm homes, just the castle, Elena’s modest cottage and a couple of others. But the outside of Vojalie and Davido’s home was a different experience entirely since it was constructed of a series of round structures with what must be long halls connecting the rooms inside.
The carved arched door was made of a beautiful solid dark wood. The carving depicted a woman in flowing robes, who Abigail supposed must be the Goddess, that spiritual being most realm-folk worshipped.
Gerrod lifted the wrought-iron rapper and tapped three times.
When the door opened, her brows rose. Before her was a stately troll who, on the scale of attractiveness, ranked in the lower numbers. She had heard Vojalie was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the realm. Davido had more wrinkles than she’d ever seen on a troll before.
He bowed to her then apologized saying it was a very old habit of his, something from ancient days. “Come in, come in. We are delighted to have you here.”
Davido was even shorter than Augustus, perhaps five-three, no more. But he was broad shouldered, and nicely built, his waist narrow. His legs were long and well-muscled for his relative size. He wore a long-sleeved ribbed t-shirt and tailored slacks. On his feet, expensive Italian loafers.
She heard the strangest sound beside her, the softest growl.
She glanced up at Gerrod, eyes wide. What?
You were looking at him.
And yes, she was. He took her hand and held it firmly. She wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t meant to stare. That was rude of me.
Do you desire him?
Oh, God, no, I’m just surprised sometimes by certain things.
Stop looking at certain things, then.
She glanced back at Davido, who was now grinning. She wondered if he had read their telepathic conversation. But when his gaze dropped to their joined fingers then back to meet her eyes, she understood. The top ridge of his forehead rose slightly as well, a sure sign that his trollish curiosity had been pinged.
