by Jackie Ivie
“I will never force you. Or harm you. Or do anything other than serve. Protect. Love. I vow it. You are my mate. And I am yours. I have been waiting for you for centuries. Just you. Don’t you understand yet?”
Every word hit her heart, making it thump in a beat that hadn’t much rhythm to it. Dare she turn? Because if he really had fangs, she’d have to face it. She was dealing with a real vampire. They existed. No more dream sequence nonsense.
Well. Somebody had to break this impasse.
Darcy straightened her back, looked toward the ceiling for no particular reason except to stall, and finally swiveled. Thanos was propped on an arm, twisting to display massive pecs and perfect frame. She moved her gaze higher. His upper lip was lifted in a snarl in order to show off impressive, white, sharp-looking fangs.
“You have fangs,” she told him.
His mouth changed to a wide grin, keeping his canines on display. Despite everything, Darcy leaned forward, reaching to touch and then trail a finger along one of his spikes. A slight cut opened in her finger, and she eyed it with something akin to interest and nothing of what should be happening...like horror. She eased her body lower, going alongside him in order to do the same thing to his other fang with her other hand. Her own teeth started tingling. She moved her gaze to his.
“Oh. Wow. Thanos. You’re a vampire. You are.”
“Yes,” he replied, moving his lips across her fingers.
“No. I mean...you’re a real vampire.”
He chuckled. That raised goose bumps. And other things. Like nipples. Senses. Passions. Desires. Wow. The guy exuded pure sex. It needed leashing. Her hands cupped his chin, slid to his throat...
“I told you as much,” he finally responded.
Something beyond weird was happening to her mouth. Darcy ran her tongue along her upper tooth line. Her tongue found obstructions where her canine teeth should be; long, sharp, extensions that pricked her tongue. And it got worse. The taste should be making her cringe, not starting a hunger from somewhere deep within her. This wasn’t happening. She was not craving blood. She refused. Darcy locked every muscle in an effort to tamp unreasoning yearning. Immense desire. Incredible longing. Everything on her shook with the effort. The bed frame rattled.
Thanos moved, ducking his nose beneath her jaw line to tip her head up. His tongue laved along her neck, running from the sensitive spot beneath an ear to her shoulder and back. Oh...hell. She couldn’t fight her entire body a moment longer. This might be totally wrong, but it sure didn’t feel like it.
They matched perfectly. Fused as one. Their bodies. Their bites. Their heart rate. Their desire. Their mating. Everything.
Everywhere.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Thwack! Thwack! Thud. Clank. Thwack! Clank. Clank. Thud.
“Damn it!”
Darcy lowered her sword in disgust. No matter what she tried, Thanos met every thrust. Every swing. Every single maneuver. As if he knew where her sword was heading before she even made the move. He had an amazing ability to sense and see and be in place to deflect. He was lightning fast at times. And for some reason, she had no trouble following him.
“You wish to try again?” He asked it while holding his sword horizontally at his chin level; one hand on the hilt, the other on the blade.
“This is stupid.”
“No. It is necessary.”
“Well, how necessary is this breastplate armor thing? Because I’m telling you yet again, I don’t like it.” She knocked on the metal plate covering her from neck to just below her belly button.
“I will readjust it later, although it should be perfect. I fashioned it to your exact measurements.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you got them but I got news for you. You’re off. It’s tight, uncomfortable, and restrictive.”
“It will keep you protected.”
“Why don’t you wear one, then?”
“You haven’t landed a blow yet.”
“No lie. You’re a vampire. And I can’t get through your defenses.”
“Ah. You are learning.”
“What? Frustration?”
This was her fault. Thanos had decided they could spend time practicing with the blade he’d fashioned for her. Darcy had responded with something flippant as to how hard could it be? It’s a sword. You swing it and hack away with it. He’d given her a look that spoke volumes before challenging her to show him. He wouldn’t attack. He’d only defend. He’d prove the value of training.
And what felt like hours later, he was still proving it.
“Have you altered your perception yet? That handling a sword is more than slashing and cutting and thrusting? And about how difficult it would prove to be?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Thanos grinned and lowered his blade. The man was unbelievable. He used every surface of his weapon, too. Even the hilt stopped more than one of her blows.
“It is defense that will save you in any battle, Darcy. That is why I fashioned your breastplate and why you wear it now. Defense. No arrow can pierce it. Nor any wooden spikes aimed at your heart.”
“Where am I going to run across arrows and wooden spikes?”
“You would be surprised,” Thanos replied.
“I feel like I’m wearing a small car. And it’s stifling.”
“Forgive me, love. But I insist.”
“And I can still complain. I’m not used to having an extra two inches around my body. It’s affecting my aim.”
“The thickness is necessary, love. That particular breastplate was forged of three layers of the lightest steel alloys with gaps of air between.”
“Three? No wonder it’s stifling. But you forgot to factor in the two layers of dresses you gave me. And are making me wear, too.”
“I allowed room for that.”
“Really? Well, maybe you should’ve allowed for things like...you know...breasts.”
“Ah. You are still annoyed at the design. Forgive me, love, but a bosom is a handicap in battle. Women of my time bound their breasts for that reason.”
“Maybe they liked looking as flat as a pancake. I’m from a different generation, Thanos. I wear push-up bras that lift and enhance for a reason.”
“Truly? What is it?”
Darcy raised an eyebrow as she regarded him. He was giving her a blank look, as if what he said wasn’t remotely sarcastic.
“To attract the opposite sex,” she informed him.
“Precisely. That is why you wear the long dress. A woman does not show her legs on a field of battle. It would create all kinds of havoc.”
“No lie. What’s your excuse then?”
“Mine?” His head went back a bit and his eyebrows rose.
“How am I supposed to keep my attention on my sword work with you running around almost naked?”
She should’ve required him to find a pair of trousers. And he had to own a shirt. Getting fully dressed first should have been in the rules because his little leather skirt thing kept gapping, flashing side butt-cheek that hadn’t seen as much sun as the rest of him, as well as a lot of leg. The only other thing he wore was his sword band across his chest, and all that did was highlight all kinds of muscle in his abs and chest. The view was extraordinary. And he acted innocent.
“My attire...bothers you?”
He lowered his chin and looked at her with a bit of line across his forehead, as if he puzzled it.
“Yes. And then some,” she answered.
“Truly?”
“Oh, come on, Thanos. You’re babe gorgeous and packing major muscle. And you’re amazing in the sex department. And then you add to that by wearing little teeny skirts to show it all off. Why on earth do you even ask?”
He could manage to look stunned. His eyes were wide as he met her gaze, enhancing their brown color.
“You think those things...of me?”
“Oh. I’m fairly certain I’m not the only woman who would.”
“But you are the only
one that matters.”
“Do we really have to go into that again?”
“What?”
“The mate thing. Look. Thanos. Don’t get me wrong. I like you. I do. But I don’t happen to believe in love at first sight, okay? And why does this feel like a blog on gender reversal?”
“Darcy.”
His voice raised shivers. Hair. He had an incredible voice and could wield it so easily! The tones sought out and conquered the cavern they fought in before sneaking around the corner where it dissipated somewhere out in the corridor. They were in yet another cave room, this one lined with all kinds of weapons displays, mostly shields.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Thanos. I’m trying here. I already said one l-word. I’m not willing to say the big l-word.”
“Love?”
“Yeah. That one. That word smacks of lifetime commitment and I’m not doing divorce. My parents did one. My mom then had four more before cancer got her. I’m not repeating history.”
“Oh Darcy. Darling. You are wrong. What we have is not a lifetime. It is forever. And I am already committed. Fully.”
Darcy gave him her best deadpan look. Eyes half closed. Lips pursed. It didn’t do much. Every hair on her was still alert with goose bumps.
“You know what, Thanos? I’m thinking we need a little breather here.”
“Breather?”
“Yeah. Timeout. You know...like a lapse in our proximity. I could use it finding a bathroom. I might use the facilities. I mean, just because time stopped when I arrived here, doesn’t mean physiology did, too. I could go for a shower, too. You might not need one, being undead and all, but I sure do. I’ve been working out for hours while wearing a ton of iron...and prior to that, I was doing some pretty heavy bedroom exercise.”
He didn’t change expression, although his eyes didn’t look remotely brown anymore. They were obsidian black. Reflective. Looking into them caused tremors along her legs that culminated in shaky knees. But because he’d made her wear mid-calf length, short-sleeve, linen dresses for their swordplay, that part of her reaction was completely hidden.
“And after that, I’ll search you out in the man-cave room of yours.”
“Man-cave?”
“Where you had all the catalogs and magazines. The place where we first...uh. You know. Tore our clothes off.”
He nodded. She blazed on.
“So. Hey. It’s a plan, then? I’ll go and find a shower, and you’ll – I don’t know – hang out in a coffin or something. Or maybe you could go add a little weight to the end of my sword with your big hammer?”
“You need to take it with you. Get used to how it feels.”
“And I sure will, just as soon as you add a little weight to the end so it doesn’t feel like I’m swinging a light stick. Okay?”
Darcy held it out to him by the blade. He finally reached for it, rippling all kinds of muscle. She almost sighed. Dang! He was one fine male! And she had to get her mouth in gear, or they’d probably be doing their other time management item: making love. And that was a really pleasant thought. She cleared her throat.
“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find a shower, and...you know. Freshen up. You do have a shower around here, yes?”
Nothing moved for the longest time, and then he nodded. Once. In slow motion. The look he was giving her slapped her heart into an almost-painful thud. That was odd. She hadn’t even noticed a heart rate during their training session. With her expenditure of energy her pulse should have been hammering more than once. That was more weirdness.
“...and you have hot water?”
“I run a generator. I have all the amenities.”
“All right then. How about some directions through your labyrinth? And we’ll meet up in about an hour. Fair?”
For a bit there, she didn’t know if he’d answer her. He wasn’t giving her any sign, one way or the other. And then he finally told her, in a combination of turns she should have paid closer attention to.
CHAPTER NINE
Oh shit. And damn. And rat-bastard. And a few other choice words. She was frickin’ lost. Again. She hated this maze of hallways! They all looked alike. She hated the mass of corridors, even if they were nicely lit. She was growing to detest rock. It was so...dull. Black. Gray. Sometimes speckled with lighter gray. Ugh. Good thing she wasn’t claustrophobic because everywhere she looked she got a view of rock and more rock. Walls. Ceilings. Floors.
And then there was the smell. She’d gone down corridors that smelled dank, hallways that reeked of wet earth. Both probably meant she was near a water source, but she’d been unable to find it. It hadn’t been a bathroom with a shower. That span of rock hadn’t led anywhere except to a corridor she’d already been in. And then, near the generator area, there had been the most unpleasant burnt odor. Damn everything! She was rapidly growing to hate this entire place. The continual humming of his generator, as well as the heat that came from the span of hallways she just entered. And look. There was the smoky haze she had to see through again.
Darcy narrowed her eyes. Smoky haze? Damn everything! She’d gone in circles again.
“Ah!”
Darcy flung her head back and voiced the frustration in a long drawn-out note that lingered in the air, and somewhere in this labyrinthine hell she heard Thanos replying. Only his howl sounded like it carried laughter. Of course it would. He’d carved this monstrosity in the first place, or had centuries to figure out the floor plan.
She decided to go right this time and took the right corridor whenever an option presented itself, and then, out of the blue, she found a hall that had doors branching out of one side. Thank goodness. She might actually have found something even better than a bathroom. She might have stumbled on an exit.
Nope.
The first wooden door had a placard at her eye level - which was his eye level as well. It said library. Library. Interesting. What might a vampire from somewhere in the fourth century B.C.E. stock in a library?
She twisted the handle, opened the door, groped for a switch...and holy hell. He had a librarian’s dream in here. Every spot was filled with shelves of books. All kinds. All shapes. Everywhere she looked. Lizbeth would be in raptures over this...just before she keeled over. Too bad Darcy wasn’t much of a reader. But she supposed if she did get bored she could always search out useless facts so she could spew them, too.
Now, that would really be a waste of time.
She shut off the lights, closed the door, and moved to the next one. It was marked supplies. Supplies. She wondered what an ancient vampire considered supplies. Probably not toilet tissue. Maybe...blood bank vials? Yuck. Darcy twisted the knob, pushed the door open, hit the light switch, and stuck her head in. Well. Looks like supplies meant filling a cavernous space with body shop stuff. Thanos was warehousing all sorts of odd-shaped paraphernalia. Containers, some metal, some not. Tools. Wood. Piles of warped and distorted metal items. Was that an anvil? One thing looked like an old plow, maybe. Another stack looked like dented helmets from some archaic battle. While another contained...were those shields? Wow. If the mangled circle-shaped things were shields, they didn’t appear to have worked very well. And that answered that. Thanos had pure guy mess in a room that he’d marked supplies.
He was welcome to it.
Darcy shut that door and moved to the next. This was beginning to feel like a game show lottery. But she was no nearer a bathroom or an exit. Finding the way out of here would be the big prize. Darcy stopped for a moment as her heart pumped painfully. Was that reaction from just the thought of leaving him?
No. Get a grip, Girl. She didn’t love him. Not this soon. It wasn’t possible.
The next door was marked Recon. What the hell did that mean? Well...whatever recon meant, he kept the door locked. Darcy gave the knob a jerk in disgust, and it broke off in her hand. Holy smack. She watched the broken knob unseeingly as the other part landed somewhere inside the room. She’d broken a door handle? With
out one bit of effort?
All right. That did it.
She was finished with Thanos and his maze of nonsense. She clenched her teeth to keep the reaction unvoiced. She didn’t need his laughter again. Damn vampires, anyway. Darcy smacked at the door next, expecting a slight sting to her palm. Her jaw dropped as the door launched right into the room, leaving a trail of wood splinters that slowly settled after it.
What on earth was going on? Was she going crazy? Could this be what insanity felt like? Supreme well-being? Strength? Fitness? Senses that were elevated to an unbelievable level? Sexual satiation? Oh wow. Just the thought of Thanos and his loving-making started a nice tingle all along her spine. Oh, stop it already, Darcy. She had to face facts and possibilities here. Because if she wasn’t crazy, then...what?
Oh no. No.
She’d been ignoring and denying and avoiding and now she was just plain scared. She wasn’t a vampire. She couldn’t be. Darcy Mullins? Didn’t she have to die first? Get reborn? Something traumatic? Painful? Moving to an undead realm shouldn’t have been an orgasmic experience.
No. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. There had to be some other explanation.
Darcy’s legs were shaking as she stepped over the broken door, the flat leather sole of her sandal sliding slightly along the wood. That was a reminder of facts. She could start with that. Facts. She needed to find her hiking boots and her trousers. As far as she recalled, neither item of clothing took damage from her first romp with Thanos.
Ah. That had been an excellent romp, too.
Geez, Darcy! She was trying to figure out how to leave here, not reminisce! She needed to find her trousers. And if she hacked this dress thing she was wearing shorter, it wouldn’t impede her as much. And then she needed to find some way out of here.
Wait just a minute.
Recon must stand for techno-junkie heaven. On a heart-stopping level. Darcy stopped and listened. Waiting. And felt her heart thump again. It was faint. And very slow. But it was still there. She had a heartbeat! And that meant she hadn’t joined one of the undead. Right?
