“Look out,” the woman yelled to Clements. She struggled to pull away from the vamp as he latched on to her arm next, but he wasn’t letting her go anywhere. So she took an age-old defense action and kneed him in the crotch―hard. The vampire buckled and doubled over.
He immediately let go, and she took a step back.
Dane and Viscount Clements stared at each other. Clements inhaled sharply and his face visibly blanched. He pulled himself taller, recovering from what must have been a shock. It wasn’t everyday a father met his daughter’s blood mate. And Dane was confident the man had caught the scent.
“Victoria . . . is she safe?” the viscount demanded.
“Of course.” Dane flashed his fangs and pressed harder on the leader’s throat, crushing his neck. He gurgled. “I need the watch and the painting,” Dane growled at him. “Where are they?”
The leader tried to shake his head while he looked across the room.
Viscount Clements’s harsh breathing echoed in the small cottage. “They’re in the next room.”
Dane lifted his chin. “Get them for me, please.”
The woman moved to run with Clements, but Dane shook his head menacingly. “No. You stay.” She stopped in her tracks. A minute later, the viscount returned with the items.
“Excellent.” He let the leader drop to the floor. A loud thump resounded in the quiet house as Clements and the woman stared at him with wide eyes. “After you,” Dane said. He motioned with his hand for them to exit, leaving the vampires to their healing efforts.
Once they were outside, he took possession of the painting and watch. He didn’t know the relationship of the latter to the former, but he would take both home with him.
“I suggest you hurry in case those two follow,” he said. “I’ll bring Victoria to see you. So you can say your good-byes.”
“Good-byes?” Clements’s foot snagged on a cobblestone and he paused, snapping his head toward Dane. His mouth hardened, as if he’d had enough for one evening. “I realize you are blood mates, but . . . but there is no reason to take her away.”
“You will understand once I explain.” Dane felt the vampire’s pain at the prospect of losing his daughter, but there was no other way. At least he couldn’t think of one. Victoria was his. She would go where he went. And now that he had possession of his the painting, there was no reason to stay. Or to deny their mating. A fire of desire and longing burned within him that only she could assuage.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dane sat beside her on the sofa. Together. The word flamed in her head, and her heart thumped faster and faster. Her palms grew moist. He was from another time period? Was he crazy?
He seemed so calm, so still. Yet his swelling desire for her whipped about him, and its exotic odor filled the room. Her gaze slid to his hands, squeezing his thighs as if he were physically holding himself in place.
If he touched her, she’d bolt. Truly. God, he was from the future and he wanted her to go there with him. Off-kilter and confused, she closed her eyes trying to sort through her feelings of attraction and distrust. A montage of images of her life fired behind her eyelids.
Her mother and father.
Their home.
The comb and brush her grandmother had given her.
The peerage and teas and parties, and her friends dancing at balls.
She opened her eyes and met Dane’s hot gaze with a gasp. He was in her head. She could sense him there. He knew her uncertainty. Unable to stay put a moment longer, she rose to move around. When she brushed by him, heading toward the windows, his fingers clasped around her wrist.
“Stop. You can’t run from the blood bond we share. You are mine.”
“I’m not running,” she whispered, staring over his head, not daring to look into those dark eyes. She needed time to process it all.
He released her, and she took a few more steps, then paused, hugging her arms to her while the puzzle pieces melded into one composition. “I don’t know if I can leave this life behind.”
As every detail flickered in her mind, the next thing she knew Dane’s arms replaced hers against her ribs, slipping around her from behind. She leaned back against him, his solid chest achingly desirable. Turning in his embrace, she slid a hand into his hair and drew him to her and kissed him in desperation. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel the same all-consuming desire he experienced. Every fiber of her body was stretched taught, right up against its breaking point.
He took in a controlled breath. “There really is not choice in this. You are mine, and I am yours. It is our way. I merely wanted you to know . . . everything before I claim you forever.”
A lump swelled in her throat, leaving her speechless. Their gazes met, and she nodded. She loved this fierce, strong man. Somehow, someway, she knew it deep down from the very first moment she met him.
He emitted a low, throaty growl as he kissed her mouth and crushed her against him. She thrust her hips toward him, all at once eager to connect in a way she’d never experienced.
He lifted her up by the waist, and her feet left the floor. She draped her arm around his neck and wrapped her legs around him. His hand cupped her bottom as his tongue delved deep, exploring, demanding. Fiery sparks licked from her core to her abdomen, and her nipples tightened. Breaking the kiss, she threw her head back, pressing harder against him, wanting more.
“I’ve waited for this since I had you in my bed.” He kneaded her bottom as if it was the best thing in the world. The squeeze and release of his fingers sent shivers through her. She moaned and ground her hips to increase the contact.
With a few powerful strides, he carried her to the bed. But he hesitated, dipping kisses along her neck to her breasts, nosing her neckline lower, lifting her higher for better access. Through her layers of clothing, his teeth found a nipple. Air rushed down her throat on her inhaled gasp as his lips closed around it.
He eased her down to the bed, covering her with his massive body, holding his weight on his muscular arms, and kissed her deeply again. He tasted so good. She couldn’t get enough of him. All she wanted to do was touch him, run her hands over his taught muscles. Her breathing escalated in anticipation. Her hands tugged at his shirt, and in a frantic peeling of clothing, he joined her and they began undressing each other in a wild frenzy.
His shirt was the first garment to go, and she palmed his biceps, running her hands up and over his shoulders, down along his smooth, powerful chest. When she was free of her blouse and undergarments, he went for her breasts, his fangs elongating. She moaned as he cupped them in his hands, buried his face in their soft cleft, and then gently explored her nipples with his mouth, languidly pulling, sucking, and licking them into peaks.
Never in her life had she felt such burning, furious, consuming desire. She ached to make him part of her. Driven by a fierce need she didn’t quite understand, she ran her hands over the length of his body. She jerked away when she felt his erection.
He snapped his head back with a deeper growl, the muscles in his neck straining. “It’s okay. I like when you touch me. Everywhere.”
And she did. Tentatively at first, but growing fond of this play, she grew bolder and ran her hand up and down his shaft.
He leaned over her, palming between her legs and then tracing tight circles. Her hips curled up off the bed as she felt slick need with each stroke. She moaned deep in her throat, and he increased the pressure. She saw only him. Wanted only him. Always.
Locking his eyes on hers, he positioned himself above her and thrust into her. Deep. Stretching her. Then he bent to her neck, kissed her vein. Her pulse throbbed against his lips, and his tongue feathered over the spot in the most delightful way before his teeth penetrated with his bite. Rapture like no other thrummed through her body. Tingling, swelling, exploding sensations began in her core and fanned down her inner thighs and up into her abdomen, squeezing in her womb and rippling through her like the flush of blood flowing through her veins.
For min
utes, she was so consumed by the ecstasy, that she nearly forgot he was the one central to this amazing experience. An insatiable hunger drove her to taste him, as well. Her fangs descended on a wave of pleasure, then she leaned to bite him, as he had her. She had never taken from the neck before, never pierced flesh in this way. Oh God. The exhilaration made her dizzy.
He was magnificent—muscles bunched, body curled, jaw clenched. His watchful eyes and the beads of sweat on his brow told her he was fighting to control the animalistic need within him as he set a slow, sensual, rhythmic pace. The hard length of him ignited a blaze of delicious bliss as it glided over her until she crashed over the edge, quivering and swelling as heat radiated through her like a firestorm. Her body burned with hot pleasure. She dug her fingers into his shoulders on a gasp, slashing lines into his skin as she wrenched her legs around him, forcing him still deeper.
~ ~ ~
His mate had a natural enthusiasm for sex that pleased him. He called upon every ounce of control he possessed in order to withdraw slowly to his crown and then slide back into her even more deliberately, more attuned to her body, more connected to her very essence. In the same way she marked his heart. He never knew it could be like this.
She cried out his name with her orgasm, and he gave a final thrust, releasing his own climax, drawing her tighter into his arms, savoring her sweet scent and the way she clutched on to him with the every clench of her muscles against his shaft.
He was one incredibly lucky vampire.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“We should go,” Dane urged. Things weren’t going well. He stood by the mantle, trying to ignore his mate’s tears. But what could he do? He had brought Victoria to her home to say farewell to her father and to explain their situation. It was an emotional situation, yes, but there was no way around it.
Dane could see the tightness in Viscount Clements’s mouth, the barely suppressed anger that lit the vampire’s eyes. Not that he could blame the man. “She cannot go with you,” Clements said. “I will not allow it.”
Victoria sat next to her father on the sofa, clutching his hand in both of hers. “Father . . . I don’t want to leave you . . . But my place is with Dane now.”
Her words struck a satisfied cord within him, yet at the same time, it pained him beyond measure to see her in such agony. The musky pheromones of her distress filled his nostrils. He’d never have thought himself to be the sort who would go to any lengths for a female. But he was discovering a new side of himself.
He tried to think of an alternate plan. He couldn’t stand to see her hurting like this. Then it hit him: the painting. While his first order of business remained returning the painting to his time, beyond that he was free. He swallowed hard, watching his mate with her father. Perhaps he could come back to this time. He thought of all he would be giving up from his life in the future, though, if he did so. His car, the electronics, the luxuries, the Italian dishes and tiramisu at Alfredo’s. He had always thought such indulgences were what he lived for.
Until tonight. Something swelled in his chest tonight. He could give all that up and return here after his mission was complete. He could give it all up for Victoria.
She looked to him, her eyes large searching spheres. “Dane, couldn’t we take Father with us? This time travel you speak of, we could all go, no?”
He smiled. His mate was not only beautiful but also intelligent. Dane hadn’t considered that Clements might accompany them. It was a lot to presume. But Langley’s wife had traveled forward with him and she was even human. It would be much easier on a vampire like Clements. “Yes, your father could travel with us, if he chooses.”
Her face lit up. The expression tugged at him. God, why was he turning to mush over her smile?
“Father, did you here that?” she asked, excitement bubbling from her with each word. “Come with us.”
A long silence filled the room as Victoria and Dane stared at Clements. Dane glanced at the grandfather clock near the entry. It was after midnight. They needed to be going.
But it didn’t take the viscount long to decide. “All right. I’ll go with you,” he said with a nod.
“Then we mustn’t dally,” Dane said.
Victoria and her father stood. “The only thing I must do first is provide for my staff. Let me leave a letter for my solicitor.” He strolled to the desk, penned a quick note, and sealed it.
Dane escorted Victoria to the door, her father close behind. A few minutes later, they were tracing through the thick fog back to his place.
As they neared the front steps, the hair on the back of Dane’s neck stood up, a prickling sensation hitting him. They were being followed. He peered through the mist and made out a group of about half a dozen vampires closing in on them. One of them was the vamp whose throat he’d gnashed open.
“We have guests. Hurry,” he directed.
Dane snagged the painting as they made their way through the house and along the secret passage into the underground, cave-like tunnel. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, magnifying every sound.
After they rounded the next corner, Dane took up the time rod, readying himself for time-traveling. He didn’t really know how to take a group through time, had never received instruction on that procedure. His nerves twisted in his gut. This could be a complete failure.
“Victoria, stand in front of me and hold the painting.” He handed it to her, positioned her where he wanted her, and then drew her into a kiss, praying it wasn’t good-bye. Then he sandwiched her back to his front. He had her father stand behind him, creating a line. “Hold on to me,” he told the viscount. “We must all stay connected.”
At least he thought that was what he’d read at some point. They needed to travel forward as a unit.
Wrapping his arms around his mate, he inserted the time rod and initiated it with a twist and thrust. Energy and color swirled around them, and he felt a tug on every atom in his body and then he blacked out.
~ ~ ~
Victoria awoke when Dane tried to move her off him. The three of them were sprawled in a heap on the cave floor. Only, now, there was light. For a second, she wondered if the light came from the men who had been following them. Torches, perhaps. But, no, she realized, blinking. There were some sort of lamps on the walls.
“Did we make it?” she whispered hoarsely.
Dane righted them before he answered, unhooking their flailed arms and legs. Then he stood, reaching down to help her up. “Yes, my love. Welcome to the year 2015.”
Her jaw dropped as she took his hand. “2015? Oh my goodness.”
“It may take some getting used to,” he muttered, then he hugged her and kissed her, his face alight with joy. “I can’t wait to show you everything.”
“Yes,” the viscount added, dusting himself off as he got to his feet. “It certainly will be an adjustment.” He looked at the lights in wonder, as curious and shocked as she was.
The three of them set out along the corridor and through the secret passageway. It was the reverse of how they’d come, except there were some differences now. The change that was most noticeable was the lighting, of course. It was very bright and shone from a round bulb. They entered a parlor of sorts next, and a man and a woman sat on a huge sofa watching a rectangular, talking picture box. Victoria shook her head. She had much to ask Dane about.
The couple turned in unison. The male was vampire, and the female, human. She sensed their shock at finding her and her father accompanying Dane.
“What on earth?” the man sputtered.
Dane marched directly over to the vampire and deposited the painting in front of him. “There. Mission accomplished. And here’s a bonus.” He placed the watch on the table.
The vampire had his leg bandaged and didn’t stand. “Excellent, he said.” He lifted his hand to Victoria. “And I see you’ve brought home company.”
The look the two men shared spoke of secrets, and she wondered what it meant, if it was a good or bad thing.
<
br /> Dane cleared his throat and slipped his big, strong hand into hers. “This is my blood mate, Victoria Clements, and her father, Viscount Clements.” He continued with the introductions of Connor Langley and his lovely blood mate, Stephanie. “She also recently traveled forward from the past,” Dane told Victoria. “I’m sure you will have much to talk about.”
Stephanie rose and came over to give Victoria a huge hug. “Come, I have so much to share with you.” The woman’s gaze swept over her. “And I think we’re about the same size, so we can share some clothes until we go shopping.”
Victoria’s questioning gaze met Dane’s.
“Everything’s fine, love.” He kissed the back of her hand and then her lips. Desire warmed her with a flush from head to toe. He released her with an encouraging flip of his hand. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later. There is nothing to fear here.”
She smiled nervously and then walked upstairs behind Stephanie.
As they went, she wondered which room was Dane’s. Was it in the same place as his bedchamber in 1842? The strange heat that only he could give her rushed through her body as the thought of his bed.
She smiled. There were some really terrific benefits to this blood-mating business. And she couldn’t wait to have him all to herself and revisit just how sweet his possessive bite could be.
~ ~ ~
The story of the Blood Keepers continues…watch for the next book in the series.
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Larissa Emerald also writes shapeshifter stories
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Forever At Midnight: The Blood Keepers Series (The Blood Keepers Series, Vampire Novella Book 2) Page 6
