Dante’s Salvation

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  He thrust into her again and again. She writhed beneath him and cried out with every punishing thrust. She called his name and begged for release, but still he tortured the both of them, not allowing her to adjust that final bit that would take her over the edge. If he couldn’t feed, he needed the energy their lovemaking would give him. It wasn’t enough, but it had to last him a little while. Just until he could talk to her.

  “Dante! Please!”

  He licked her neck. The sweet-salty flavor of her skin made his balls draw up tight and the cum press at the base of his dick. He was so close. He wanted to drink while he came. Needed to taste her blood once again.

  “No!” he shouted as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder and laced his fingers through hers, gripping her hands tight, fighting the hunger.

  “Please,” she begged on harsh pants. “Please.”

  Her cunt squeezed his cock in a vise-like grip as her muscles contracted. She screamed, and he knew it was the hardest orgasm she’d probably experienced in her life. Still he stroked and stroked. She sobbed, and her hands gripped his fingers so hard he lost feeling there. He held his breath, trying to hold off his release.

  When she arched under him, and her ass lifted him right off the bed, he pulled one hand away and speared it under her to pinch her clit.

  She yowled like a cat in heat, and the sound, along with the hot, slick release of her juices over his engorged cock, sent him over the edge with a shout. Every muscle in his body tensed, tightened, coiled. And for the first time in three hundred years, he wished his semen held life. For he’d give anything to gift the woman he loved with a child. His child. The child of his heart.

  “No. Don’t move,” Dante whispered when Wendy tried pulling her hand from his. “Give me two more minutes to recover.” And to get his fangs to disappear. The musky scent of her sweaty skin, combined with the aroma of their spent lust, kept his hunger too near the surface.

  “You’re squashing me,” she muttered and rolled to her side.

  He chuckled and tucked her against his front, wrapping his arms tight around her, not letting her turn to look at him. He needed a few more minutes.

  “That was...” She sighed. “Indescribable.”

  He buried his face in the curly mass of her bed-mussed hair and smiled. But then he remembered how they’d wound up in this bed. She’d been so angry with him before he mesmerized her, she told him she hated him and never wanted to see him again. He’d coerced her into bed with him, and if he hadn’t made her forget everything that happened last night, she wouldn’t have just made love to him. She’d hate him when he told her the truth.

  “What else can you do that I don’t know about?”

  Leap tall buildings in a single bound and stop a speeding bullet with my chest and survive. But only after I drink your blood and make you fear me. He shook his head and sighed. “My love, I have some things to tell you.”

  She turned in his arms, pressing her still-clothed body against his, and looked up at him with trust and love in her greener than springtime eyes. Luckily, his fangs had subsided into his gums. But it was time to lay himself bare. Time for her to know the truth. He couldn’t keep his secrets to himself because he needed her to know—and accept—him for who he truly was.

  “You sound awfully serious,” she said, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. “What’s wrong?”

  He lifted his hand to touch her cheek. “I love you with all my heart and soul. You must remember that above all. No matter what happens, or what I tell you, you have to believe that I love you as I’ve never loved another woman.”

  “Dante... You’re scaring me. Oh, God, don’t tell me you’re a criminal or something. I can’t be involved with a criminal. Have you been in jail? Prison? Are you an axe murderer?”

  “Shh. No, I have never been in prison or jail.” But he’d killed before. With his bare hands. Ripped VanBueren’s throat out with the same hands he’d just used to pleasure her. Jesus Christ, how could he tell her the truth?

  He kissed her. Coaxing her mouth open with a soft swipe of his tongue, he delved inside her heat and held her tight against him, knowing it may very well be the last kiss he would be allowed to share with her.

  Wendy moaned and shifted against him, rocking her pelvis against his. Her arm went around his waist, her small, warm hand pressed against his back. Her tongue slid against his in an erotic dance that brought his arousal back to life. If he had the next millennium with her, it would never be enough to satisfy his craving for her.

  She moved her hand downward until she palmed his butt cheek, flexing her fingers into his muscle. He moaned and rolled over on top of her even as he battled his need to feed. If she did accept who and what he was, it didn’t mean she’d ever let him feed from her. He needed to prepare himself for that likelihood. If she said no, he would never take her blood.

  She tore her mouth from his and arched her neck as she pressed her head into the pillow and moaned. Raising her hips, she aligned their bodies so the tip of his cock teased her curls. But all he saw was the smooth, silky column of her throat and how badly he wanted to bite. To suck.

  He jerked from her grasp and rolled to the side of the bed where he sat up. “Wendy. We have to talk first. I cannot make love with you again until we talk.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Until I tell you my secrets.”

  Her heavy breathing filled the silent room, as did the scent of her arousal.

  “Why are you talking...weird?” She moved behind him on the bed, and then she leaned around and looked into his face. “You’ve never had a lisp before. What’s wrong?”

  All it would take would be for him to open his mouth and show her his fangs. Even if she didn’t believe in the fable of vampire lore, she’d know something was different about him.

  Bang, bang, bang. “Dante, mate, get yer arse outta bed. We’ve got a problem.”

  Dante surged off the edge of the bed and jerked open the door.

  Digger gave him a once over and raised his brow.

  Dante narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  Digger’s look of humor fled, and he leaned in close, obviously so Wendy couldn’t hear. “Thomas and Carlson. They’re dead. Gaston wants us at his place right now.”

  “Fuck.” Dante dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He and Digger were the last two left on the list—provided they were correct about said list.

  “Evan and Jesse are downstairs. Evan will drive Wendy home, and Jesse’s coming with us. He’s the only human we have who might be up to fighting with us. And by God, we can’t be separated at all right now.”

  Dante nodded. “I agree. Give me ten minutes.” Without waiting for Digger’s response, he shut the bedroom door and turned toward Wendy who still sat in the middle of the bed. “Sweetheart, something has come up. I have to leave. A friend of mine will drive you home, though, all right?”

  “Why? What’s going on? Where do you have to go?”

  He headed for the chest of drawers and pulled out a lightweight pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Put these on. I don’t want you going out looking like that.”

  “Excuse me?” She came off the bed and planted her hands on her hips. “What’s wrong with this? I just bought it yesterday.” Then she looked down at herself, and her cheeks turned pink as she tried to push her skirt down her thighs. She was covered in wrinkles, and she’d lost the top button on the blouse, so the opening showed much too much of her luscious cleavage.

  “As I was saying,” he said, trying to keep his brain focused on what needed to be done. “I have to get to a very important meeting.” He pulled jeans, socks, and another T-shirt from the drawers. Thank God he hadn’t told her everything yet. With Thomas and Carlson dead, there was no telling what would happen to him in the next few days. All three had been murdered in less than twenty-four hours, which told him the slayer was getting antsy to finish the job.

  When he turned back to Wendy after pulling the shirt over his head, she was
trying to adjust the drawstring on the sweatpants. “Let me,” he said as he sat down on the bed and pulled her between his knees. “I’m sorry about this. I swear, when—soon—we’ll sit down and I’ll tell you everything.”

  She frowned at him. “Just tell me now. Don’t make me wait and wonder and make stuff up in my head.”

  “I cannot.” He pulled the drawstring tight and tied it in a bow. Then he reached for her blouse buttons. “Just know that it has nothing to do with you.” He looked up into her eyes. “I want nothing and no one more than I want you. Do you understand that?”

  As he slipped the blouse down her arms, she shook her head. “Something feels a little off. How exactly did we get here last night?”

  Fuck. He’d said too much. If she remembered what happened last night before they had a chance to talk, it would be all for naught, and she’d hate him again.

  “I brought you here,” he said, slipping the T-shirt over her head.

  “But—”

  He clamped his mouth over hers and speared his tongue into her mouth. She gripped his shoulders for support as she leaned into him. When he brought his hands up to cup her soft breasts, she moaned into his mouth.

  “I love you, Wendy,” he whispered when he broke the kiss and laid his cheek against hers. “Always remember that.”

  Before she could ask any more questions, he stood, took her hand, and led her downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, he stopped and grasped the handrail as dizziness assailed him. If he didn’t feed soon, he was liable to collapse. Too much energy exertion and no nutrients. He had no idea sex could take so much out of him.

  “Dante?” Wendy said as she touched his forehead. “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away. She was far too tempting, and as strong as the hunger beat at him, it would be too easy to lean down and take a sip from her. Her willingness be damned.

  “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low.

  She frowned at him and pursed her lips. “Are you sick? Is that what you had to tell me? Do you have cancer or something?”

  With a sigh, he shook his head. “No, love. I am not dying. I am a little hungry is all. I didn’t have supper last night.”

  Evan, Digger and Jesse were all in the kitchen. Jesse was eating a bagel, and Digger handed both he and Wendy a mug of coffee when they entered.

  “Thank you,” Wendy muttered. She cast him a sidelong glance, but there was nothing he could do right now. He read the questions in her eyes, but now was definitely not the time.

  “Wendy,” he said. “This is Evan Fredrick. He’ll be driving you home.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said and held out her hand.

  Evan shook her hand and gave a polite nod. “The pleasure’s mine, ma’am.”

  “And this is Jesse Johnstone,” Digger said as he wrapped his arm around the big black man. “You probably remember him from the club.”

  Her mouth opened slightly as she stared at Jesse, and Dante knew it wasn’t because Digger had just made it clear that he and Jesse were a couple. She didn’t remember the events that transpired at the club. Damn it, he should have told Digger last night what he’d done, but they’d been so busy with disposing of Xavier’s body, there hadn’t been much time to talk. By the time they got back to the house, it had been near dawn, and they’d both been exhausted.

  Dante cleared his throat and laid his hand on Wendy’s back. “I think she had a bit too much to drink last night. She doesn’t exactly remember how she got here.” He sent Digger a look that begged him to keep his mouth shut.

  Digger gave the slightest of nods. “Do ya need an aspirin or two, then, lassie?”

  Wendy shook her head. “I’m fine. But Dante needs to eat.” Then she went to the counter, pulled a bagel out of the bag there, and smeared it with the cream cheese sitting next to it. “Eat this,” she said to Dante, “before you pass out.”

  Evan raised an eyebrow at him, but he ignored the look of amusement. Wendy’s words and actions made it clear she didn’t know yet, and any vampire knew it was up to the lover to tell the human the truth, no one else. It was an unwritten, sacred rule.

  He took the bagel. “Thank you.”

  “We should go,” Evan said. “Gaston’s waiting for you. I’ll be there as soon as I drop her at home.”

  “Make sure she gets to her door, please,” Dante said.

  “Of course.” Evan held out his arm for her. “Shall we?”

  After she took another sip of her coffee, she set the mug on the counter. “Dante? Can I...um...” She cocked her head to the side, indicating she wanted to talk to him in the relative privacy of the hallway.

  He set down his coffee and half-eaten bagel on the counter and followed her to the hall. “What is it, love?”

  She turned toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss that curled his toes and made his gums ache. “I love you, too, Dante,” she whispered in his ear. “I didn’t get to tell you that. And whatever you have to tell me, I’ll be there for you, no matter how bad it is.”

  Dante’s heart swelled with the love he harbored for her. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her slightly in a crushing hug as he buried his face in her hair. “Thank you, Wendy. Your words...” Would get him through the next few days and whatever horrors they might bring. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She kissed his cheek and laughed. “Please take care of yourself. You feel as though you’re shaking.”

  He was shaking. He was starving. “You’d better go so Digger and I can get to our meeting. I’ll call you...in a few days, okay?”

  “A few...”

  “Please. Trust me. I need a couple days.”

  “I do trust you.” She smiled a sweet grin filled with love. But then it faltered and her brow furrowed again as if she was remembering something, or trying to remember.

  “Come on. Let’s go. Evan’s waiting.”

  She let him escort her to the front door where he met Evan. He gave the other vampire Wendy’s address and again asked him to see her to her door.

  “I’ll guard her with my life,” Evan said, and Wendy made a face.

  “Jeesh, it’s just a ride home. I could call a cab.”

  “No,” both Dante and Digger said in unison.

  “Evan will drive you,” Dante said.

  “Be careful,” Digger added as they walked down the steps to Evan’s dark blue sedan.

  Evan gave a wave as he held the door for her. “Stop worrying. She’s safe with me.”

  “Let’s get going. I’ve got to feed soon.” Dante turned to put on his shoes.

  “Maybe Gaston’ll let ya use one of his women. You’re lookin’ a bit pasty.” Digger led him to the coat closet in the hallway where they armed up and put on jackets to cover the shoulder holsters that held their weapons. They met Jesse in the kitchen, and Digger handed his lover a wooden dagger in a sheath for him to wear on his belt. “It’s all I got for ya, babe,” he said to Jesse. “Dante and I are carryin’ the guns.”

  Jesse nodded as he loosened his belt and slid the sheath into place. “It’s okay. I’m hoping I don’t have to get close enough to use it.” He smiled at Digger and laid a hand on his lover’s shoulder as he leaned in and kissed him. “I’ll meet you at Gaston’s. Be careful.”

  Digger nodded and headed for the door to the garage. “I thought ya were gonna tell ’er the truth, mate.”

  Jesse followed them into the garage, gave Digger one last kiss while Dante punched in the alarm code, then stood behind Digger’s Vette so he could get out when Digger opened the garage door.

  Dante sighed as he settled into the passenger seat. “I was going to. Almost did it, until you knocked on the door. What good is telling her now, though, if I wind up dead in the next day or two? What good will that do?”

  “Yer not gonna die,” Digger said, his voice firm. “We’re gonna wait ’til this bastard comes after us, and th
en we’re gonna take ’im out.”

  They both waved to Jesse as they pulled out of the garage, and then they waited until he got into his SUV before taking off down the street.

  Dante wished he had as much confidence as his friend. Maybe he’d feel more positive after he fed. The one thing he did have on his side now was Wendy’s love. If he could make it through this, he’d at least get a chance to explain his life to her. It was the first time in ages he truly wanted to live.

  Chapter Eleven

  Thank God for the rain in Seattle. The noon sky hung low and pewter gray. Even so, Dante’s eyes hurt from the light as they drove across Lake Washington toward Bellevue. He groaned and gripped his stomach as the hunger curled his guts in a painful knot.

  “Hell, mate,” Digger said, laying his hand on Dante’s shoulder as he weaved through traffic. “You’re in bad shape.”

  Dante could do nothing but nod. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hungry. Then he realized—he hadn’t supplemented. Usually, when he avoided feeding, he ate raw beef. It wasn’t optimum, but it gave him some of the nutrients needed for his survival. This past week he hadn’t eaten anything. His worries had been on other things. The slayer, his emotional conflict over Wendy. He couldn’t remember if he’d eaten anything at all since Wendy had come for supper. That night he’d cooked chicken, which did nothing for him except give him the pleasure of flavor and a sense of his humanity.

  He groaned again when the pain gripped him.

  “Almost there,” Digger said as he whipped down the side streets leading to Gaston’s estate. “Gaston’ll find ya some blood.”

  “I thought...sex...was supposed to help...” he gasped out. “Transfer...of energy.”

  “Not the way yer goin’ about it. Yer in too much turmoil. Yer worryin’ about tellin’ her, yer fightin’ the hunger, and yer expending too much energy of yer own for some slap and tickle to help. Ya need to tell the lass or be done with ’er.”

  He knew that. He would have let her leave last night if she hadn’t discovered Xavier’s body on the porch. If he survived the coming battle, he’d tell her. Explain everything. Let her choose the next step in their relationship, whether it was walking away from his monstrosity or letting him prove to her he’d be anything and everything she needed. If she left...