Ravenous tdf-1

by Sharon Ashwood

Alessandro grabbed Holly's arm. "She is mine!"

  "Wait a minute!" The hair rose on Holly's nape. "Wait an effing minute! I'm right here! I get a vote. No executions. No biting, either."

  Omara's eyes went hard as agate. "It's your choice, little witch. Let us cure you, or die. We can save your personality, your soul. A demon's power destroys both."

  Holly's overriding instinct was to flee, but Alessandro's grip shackled her. A wise precaution. Running in a roomful of predators was less than smart.

  "I'm going now," she said. "I feel fine. Mac was sick. I'm not."

  Omara shook her head. "It is already working in you. I can smell it."

  "Then I want a cure. One with no puncture wounds."

  "There is no cure." Omara reached for her.

  Pure panic struck. Every ounce of magic in Holly's body exploded outward. White phosphorescence streaked through the room, popping like old-fashioned flashbulbs. Howls of outrage rose where shadows used to be, blinded vampires clawing at their eyes. Holly screamed, pain rending her flesh. She thought she smelled burning, but her senses reeled, skewed, a juddering nonsense of taste and smell.

  Her lashing power fizzled, useless. There was light, but no force behind it.

  This isn't right.

  Her magic was completely scrambled.

  Did the demon poison do this?

  Sudden dizziness overtook Holly. She dropped to her hands and knees hard. For a moment she was immobile. Crawling away seemed a good option, but her limbs would not obey. An itching, creeping sensation trickled over her, as if her skin were unzipping in a hundred places.

  Alessandro bent over her, his image wavering. He touched her cheek, and his hand seemed like ice. "It's already started," he said. "I have to do something. I'm the lesser evil, I hope. I will give you what freedom I can."

  Before Holly could react, Alessandro's arm slid behind her waist, lifting Holly to a sitting position. She could smell the leather of his coat, a rich smell edged with the faint bitterness of tobacco and blood.

  The whispers of the spectators knitted into words. He's doing it. He's going to take the witch.

  She fumbled for her magic, wanting some last line of protection, but it crumbled, spent and dry.

  "I've dreamed of this," he said. He ran his fingers over the curve of her ear with gentle possessiveness. The touch, barely felt, made her belly tighten. He was radiating need like a fire gave off warmth, his ache setting hers ablaze.

  Ah! How silly she is. The vampires crowded close, shutting off what fresh air there was in the dank basement. Look, she's still fighting back. Like that will help anything.

  "This is way too public." She put her hands against his chest, but she had no strength. I'm helpless. A new panic, one that she had never felt before, began to rise like cold, foul water. I'm afraid of him. Really afraid.

  "Hush, don't talk," he replied.

  "No!"

  Lips met lips in a hungry crush. His sharp teeth scraped her tongue in wicked foreplay. He's not being careful now. He had been holding back before, always putting her safety before his pleasure. That was over, his conscience salved. Now he is out for blood.

  Holly could feel the hungry eyes of the other vampires roving over them, every sigh rippling the air over her flesh. Tremors ran through his fingers as he stroked her shoulders, each pass trailing lightly down the backs of her arms. Holly squirmed, terrified.

  "Hush," he said, catching her gaze with his eldritch golden eyes. "You said you trusted me. Believe me, Holly; I'm only doing this to save you."

  Of course he is, like a spider helps its catch. … But her misgivings fell away like melting cobwebs. A pleasant calm stole over Holly, making her forget her last thought. She slid her hands beneath the cool leather of his coat. Silk greeted her fingers as she ran her hands over the sleek tailoring of his shirt. Now the surveilling eyes seemed to heighten the moment, as if she were experiencing arousal and watching it all at once.

  He has hypnotized me. He had done it so lightly.

  But the fear was gone. He already had possession of her mind.

  One of the spectators reached out, touching her cheek. The hand was cold as the grave, the touch of an Undead who had not taken blood for too long.

  Alessandro batted the questing hand away. He cradled her where she sat, kissing her brow, running his lips down the edge of her jaw. Holly shuddered.

  And then she felt teeth breaking through flesh—bright, tearing pain.

  No! Panic shot through her, sharp as an electric shock. Her brain sent flight messages to her limbs, but they were numb, heavy and immobile.

  Venom. It gave pleasure, but it also bestowed a mild paralysis.

  A collective sigh crept around the room, the vampires slinking closer, standing on tiptoe to see. Holly's pulse hammered, trapped in the universal fear of animals about to become food. Breath, the shreds of a scream, came out in a horrified rasp. No, no, no!

  Her scalp crawled, the ancient defense of furry creatures trying to make themselves bigger. Alessandro's tongue tenderly touched the wound at her throat, the reverent intimacy contradicting the predatory act. His lips closed around the hot, welling blood, a kiss fiercer and deeper than any yet.

  And then she fell into the moment.

  With a will of its own her body surged into the caress. Despite all, she burned with a sweet, smoky pain. Her skin stung from everything that touched it: air, light, the breath-soft silk of his shirt. Like something overfull, her flesh strained against its bounds. The very heat in her veins was an itch only the vampire's kiss could relieve.

  He was drinking Holly's life, and her libido was begging him to take more. Some of it was the effects of the poison from those delicate fangs; some of it was pure Alessandro.

  Her hands moved of their own volition, sliding over the leather of his coat, the roughness of his jeans. His muscles were coiled hard and urgent, lifting her into the painful embrace. Cradled against him, she could feel his rod-hard arousal. Her own mouth watered with sexual hunger, her hips yearning to thrust into his.

  And then the mark took Holly. Waves of pleasure surged from her core outward, following the branches of her nerves in rippling arousal. She began to pant, her temperature spiking upward. Sweat slicked her skin, making her clothes slippery against her.

  She felt her body arch against him as he bit down one more degree. The waves became a crashing flood of need. A hoarse cry of surrender tore from her throat. Her climax was brutal and thorough, sharp as steel.

  He swallowed once, twice more and then pulled his mouth away.

  Holly felt the fangs leave her flesh empty. Dismay staggered her.

  I want more.

  Chapter 25

  No need for invitation barred Alessandro from Holly's home. He had been there before, and now he was her master. Not even the magic of the house was a barrier. Magic was shaped and given power with will, and he had drunk down Holly's will with her blood.

  Like all those bitten for the first time, Holly had collapsed moments after he had finished. She would sleep it off and wake up begging for more. It would be easy to convince her to give her aid to the queen.

  He carried Holly into the house, using the key he found in her backpack to unlock the door.

  Monster. Murderer. His bite possessed his victim. There was nothing Holly could do but serve his every wish. He hadn't asked for this kind of mastery. He didn't want it. It was vile.

  But it was his.

  The bedroom was dark. The last time he had been there she had lit a candle with a spell. The memory would have made him sad, but his soul was already gray with grief.

  He laid her on the bed, her small form curling onto her side. Then he reached over, clicking on the bedside lamp to comfort her should she wake. The tip of a tail flashed in his vision as Holly's cat crept from the room, its body hunkered close to the floor.

  The cat knew something was amiss.

  Holly trusted me to keep her safe. I failed. In the end I betrayed her trust. />
  The price of failure was staggering for him as well as her. If there was such a thing as the Chosen, there was no way she could Choose him now. Only those with free will could save a vampire with their love. He had sacrificed that chance for liberty from the blood hunger.

  But I had to save her. I couldn't let her fall to Geneva's evil.

  Holly stirred in her sleep. Strands of her hair were scattered over the counterpane, framing her profile like a dark sun. Alessandro sat on the bed, smoothing stray locks into place. His hands wound into the softness, feeling the precious warmth of her skin.

  He would make it up to her as best he could. Holly's days would be an idyll of pleasure. Everything he had was hers to enjoy, and he had much. Wealth. Property. Knowledge gleaned from centuries of experience and experimentation. But sooner or later the venom addiction would take her over. Now that he had tasted her, he would not have the strength to deny her. No vampire could resist their human lover's blood forever.

  I will have to leave her. Once the demon is gone, I must go, too. The thought washed over him, a fresh agony. Omara knew just how to punish me for having someone else in my heart. She makes me destroy the woman I love, or else abandon her forever. But wasn't his bite the antidote for the Dark Larceny? What else could he have done?

  Did I accept this as the only solution because it indulged my own gluttony?

  No. I spared her when we made love. I have the strength. I did it to save her.

  His thoughts swung back and forth, persistent as a clock's pendulum. He did not know the truth, or whether it was all just different views of reality. He was death and a cure both. What have I done?

  Bending over Holly, he inhaled the scent of her skin, sweet as wild honey. He had tasted the demon in her blood tonight, faint but present. Omara was right: Macmillan's kiss had been eroding her already.

  But now the scent of the demon had faded, the mark of Alessandro's venom taking ascendancy. She is wholly mine now. A rush of appetite flooded through him, filling his mouth with saliva. He touched the soft, soft curve of her cheek with his lips. My own.

  An ache of regret and loss caught under his ribs, all the worse because he knew it changed nothing. I love her. There has to be a way out of this. If I have to I will walk away, but please, please let there be another way.

  Holly came to life, turning beneath him. Blinking sleepily, she wound her arms around his neck. "You're here."

  "Of course." Guilt crowded behind the words, the first he had spoken since taking her.

  "I'm glad. Don't ever leave." She pulled him down, taking his mouth for a long, breathless moment. "I want us to lie here forever."

  That's the venom talking. Alessandro forced a smile. "I'm a terrible conversationalist once the sun comes up."

  "I didn't mean we'd be swapping gossip."

  Oh, Holly, he thought sadly.

  He let her pull him down beside her, his weight jostling the big bed. Holly straddled him, grabbing the waistband of his jeans. "You drove last night. This time I get the car keys, and you enjoy the ride."

  Despite himself, Alessandro felt his muscles go slack with pure male delight. Oh, yes.

  Then sanity bobbed to the surface. She was riding high on the dregs of his last bite. Maybe part of her enthusiasm was real, but part was also chemical.

  "Are you sure this is—"

  She put her mouth to his ear, the silky curve of her shoulder brushing his chin. "Stop fretting. What does it matter? What can you do that hasn't already been done?"

  With a single motion she stripped off her shirt, tossing it over the side of the bed. A black satin bra scalloped the edges of her full breasts, the lace edging cut low enough to show her nipples jutting hard against the net.

  How could he resist? His body's response was instant and emphatic, man and vampire on full alert. The blood beneath that fine white skin was so rich with power. A witch tasted heavy and thick, tingling with magic like fine champagne.

  He wanted it. And he wanted those breasts in his hands, those legs wrapped around his waist. His fingers hooked under one thin black bra strap and slid it over her shoulder, pressing his lips where it had dented the flesh beneath. As she shifted against him, his tongue found the hollow above her collarbone.

  Then air separated them. Her hands had been busy with his jeans, releasing his hot and aching member from imprisoning cloth. Holly's fingers were clever enough, but at the touch of her hot, wet mouth—sucking, licking, teasing him to readiness—his heart thumped suddenly to life. A rush of heat filled him, the energy from the blood he had already consumed sparking a mounting spiral of need.

  He shouldn't let her do this. Not twice in one night.

  But their clothes went away all the same.

  Then Holly was under him.

  He filled himself with the taste of her breasts, suckling with a skill that already had her writhing under him. A touch to the dark curls between her legs found her swollen and wet. He slid experimental fingers inside, seeking just the right spot to caress.

  Holly moaned. The sound speared him, making him even harder. Working as slowly as he could, he drew out her pleasure with the patience of a craftsman. She dug her heels into the sheets, her neck straining as he stroked and circled her inside and out. Then, with a kiss to her most intimate place, he brought Holly to a hot, slippery, helpless climax.

  It pleased Alessandro that he could do that without his bite. Some human skills were well worth preserving.

  But that was just the starter course. He allowed a moment for the appetite to recover.

  He cuddled her, stroking, coaxing her limbs back to life and kindling new fires of sexual hunger. She slid her leg over his body, the flesh of her thigh petal-smooth. She settled over his erection with ease, gently, slowly, drawing him tight inside the blessed warmth of her body. They rocked gently, building energy with steady, relentless friction.

  Now his hungers began to demand their due. Holly arched her back, the light painting the architecture of her body in golden relief, the globes of her breasts moving in rhythm with their bodies. She was making little noises, leaning forward now, shifting to get just the right angle, stroking longer and harder.

  The visuals were dazzling.

  Her mouth fell open, eyes closed with concentration. He could see the mounting tension, beautiful and wild, taking shape in her features. She found release with a cry.

  The leash of his own needs slipped, but he relentlessly caught it, holding on. A rush of wetness cascaded inside her, the convulsions caressing him. She found his mouth, her lips against his in a communion of sex and bliss. A torrent of energy, feminine and witchy, tingled over his skin in beguiling waves.

  Ah, there were limits to even his control. He rolled her to her back, bracing himself for maximum thrust. His mouth ached with the need to taste her.

  First he had to bury himself inside again and again. Her breasts shuddered with each driving plunge. He was past mere pleasure. His hunger fought loose, male need driving out all thought but taking her for his own. She panted under him, driven again to the brink of madness, the scent of her arousal only lashing him on. He heard a feral noise that must have been him, and then a final paroxysm shattered his body.

  He felt his seed spill as a sharp, choking hunger tore him from within. Suddenly it was impossible to draw breath. Orgasm became a sharp new desire as human impulse fell away, senseless and satiated.

  All that was left was the vampire. The beast.

  That did not mean he was not tender. He slid down, cupping one arm under her shoulders. He kissed her, kissed the place where he had already plundered her life, licked the wounds open with the savoring caress of a connoisseur.

  She arched her throat, giving him access as he bit down.

  He shuddered, hardening again as her life flooded into him, sliding down his throat with all the potency of strong liquor. A storm of pleasure took him, leaving him gasping, heavy and drugged with pleasure.

  He throbbed, all of him, aching fo
r more, his stamina barely tapped. There were good things about being a vampire.

  The night was young, and the banquet had just begun.

  When Holly woke it was to an afternoon light. The question was which afternoon, which day.

  She was spooned against Alessandro, one of his arms a heavy weight across her side. She expected to feel pain, but did not.

  What she did feel was the mix of their powers woven like a cord between them, twining through their sex, through their blood. Her magic had somehow blended with his vampire energy, fused in a crucible of lust. Above that, his venom sang in her veins, a barely banked wash of heady desire. Venom. I'm trapped. Oh, Goddess.

  But, strangely, she wasn't afraid. Is that the venom lulling me? Or do I really have nothing to fear? Holly had never felt so thoroughly sated. She wriggled under the weight of Alessandro's arm, turning so she could face him. He was in the deep, deep rest of the Undead, pale but peaceful, his hair a tangled mass on the pillow.

  Strange clarity pushed away the fog of sleep and sex. She had lost blood, but she felt strong. She knew she was under his influence, but she felt oddly free. What's happened to me?

  Was it just the outstanding sex? They said it was the bite that trapped a person, ruined them for human lovers, but she was willing to vote for vampire endurance. After that kind of lovemaking, how could anything else compete? She subsided onto her back, snuggling beneath Alessandro's arm. Energy hummed between them, mildly erotic.

  Goddess, she was relaxed.

  At times, when she was deep in meditation, she could see the webwork of the house's magic. She could see it now, shining ribbons of power bright in her mind's eye. It flowed like a tangle of roots, branching and branching again, a myriad of tiny golden threads of energy. Holly let her mind float along and through them, aimless, drifting. Comfortable.

  There was an unexpected lurch of disconnection, so sudden there was no time to struggle. While Holly's body stayed behind, her soul slid into the darkness like the slow drip of molasses out of a cold bottle.

  What's going on? Hello?

  For a moment it felt as if she floated backward out of her skull, rising higher and higher into an airless void. The house, the bed faded from sight, melting into a swirling gray soup with no horizon. Holly's stomach rolled, reminding her of late-night drinking sessions and bad seafood. Should I be panicking?