by Dannika Dark
He dropped the rag in the bucket. “In another life.”
“Did you love me?”
He used a clean cloth to dry my hands, his tone growing colder. “Love is a plague. It infects, spreads, and ultimately destroys everything it touches. It blackens your heart and kills every last ounce of hope, little by little, until there’s nothing left.”
I knelt down in front of him. “If that’s how you feel, then why are you still wearing the ring?”
“A souvenir to remind me of what I’ll never have? The events of our coming together played out in a sequence that can never be repeated. I can’t convince you to feel anything for me.”
I rose and turned toward the fire. It hadn’t taken long for the small room to warm up. “That Vampire’s blood tasted like motor oil. Thought you might like to know.”
His finger tapped on the edge of the stool, the sound audible above the crackling wood. “It’s not even been three weeks, and I haven’t seen you shed a tear.”
I glared over my shoulder at him. “A tear for what?”
His gaze reeled me in. “Your pain.”
“I shed enough tears the first time around.”
He shot to his feet. “You can’t bottle it up, or else you’ll lose control, like what happened back there with those men.”
I turned to face him, my eyes on his lips. “You don’t understand. If I shed one tear, it’ll consume me. I can’t go there again, Christian. I can’t. The only way it didn’t kill me the first time was—”
“Becoming a killer?” Christian closed the distance between us. “I know grief. I’m immortal, after all. Cry alone if you have to, but grieve for what he did to you. Acknowledge your pain lest it turn on you. If you keep the tears in the shores of your eyes, you’ll drown.”
I sat down on the rug. “Blood usually makes me sick. Diesel’s blood wasn’t poisoned like other men I’ve killed. But you know what? I don’t care if all he did was drive those women from one place to the next. People should be accountable for the part they played. I just don’t understand why they went to all that trouble… just to ship them off.”
Christian circled around and sat before me. He unlaced one boot, then the other. “If the younglings remain in the same country as their maker, there’s always a chance of being caught. Europe is another world, and they find the fruits over here exotic.”
“Why didn’t Temple just turn his own humans?”
“Maybe he couldn’t. As it turns out, not all Vampires have the power. Most do, but there are always defects.” Christian stretched out his bare feet and leaned against one arm. “Some of the ancients prefer to dominate younglings who belong to someone else. There’s less guilt that way, especially if they have to kill them.”
“Why would they go through all the trouble of paying for someone only to kill them?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes a youngling is unable to control their bloodlust. That’s why the buyers are very particular about where they get the merchandise from. Houdini chose willing women from those ads. Did they know what they were truly getting into? No. But the ones who glamorize and fantasize about Vampires are easier to control and more likely to respect and fear their elders than someone made against their will. No one wants to pay millions of dollars for an ungovernable slave.”
“What happened to the girl?”
Christian ran his fingers through the brown fur beneath him. “I charmed her to get as much information as I could about her kidnapping, but most of it had already been scrubbed. Worry not, Raven. I left her with happy memories. The officials can’t send her back to her family since she’s been turned. They’re too politically prominent, so the scandal will keep them quiet.”
“What scandal?”
“’Tis a shame when a young lass runs off with a dashing young man who wants nothing more than to make love to her while under the influence of LSD. She’ll write them a letter every few years from a new location, living her bohemian life. Where she’ll actually be is another story, but closing that case as a murder wouldn’t have given a family like that peace. They would have opened an investigation and suffered needlessly. Children go off into the world all the time to live their dreams.”
I smiled at the thought.
Christian suddenly reached out and touched my face. “Seems like forever since I’ve seen that look.” He scooted closer. “There’s something I can’t get off my mind.”
“What’s that?”
“Fletcher.”
I slanted my eyes away.
“Are you planning to hunt him down?”
“No,” I quickly said, shifting my position.
“You don’t want to see him dead?”
I braved a look. “We’re immortal. I’ll run into him again… eventually. And when that day comes, I’ll be ready. But right now, Keystone is my priority. I’m not letting him ruin the life I’ve built. Not again. He won’t take that from me.”
Christian leaned in so close that his lips brushed against mine. The nearness of him gave me comfort for reasons I couldn’t explain, and a fire smoldered in his black eyes.
I wanted him.
He claimed my lips with a hunger that belied his outward calm.
The absence of touch was cruel, so I scooted closer until he wrapped his arm around me. Christian’s lips were firm and sensual, his tongue stroking against mine with restrained passion.
It shocked me how easy it was with him—how familiar.
His hand swept down my back to my thigh, fingers slipping beneath the string of my bikini bottoms. One snap, and he could tear apart the fabric, but instead he tortured me with his inviting touch. Christian slowly broke the kiss, his whiskers coarse against my skin. I liked the way they felt against my lips—it made me want to scratch my teeth against his jaw. He dragged his mouth to my neck, and when he stroked my artery with his tongue, I desperately clutched him.
Suddenly, a dark memory slithered in my thoughts, and I drew back.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, confusion swimming in his eyes.
I wanted to turn around and face the fire so he couldn’t see my anguish, but instead I wiped a spot of blood that had dried on my wrist. “I’ll never be clean.”
“I can fix that with another pail of water.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” My lip quivered, and I silently cursed myself for letting my emotions take over. “How can you be with me after knowing what he did?”
Fletcher had pleasured himself on more than one occasion, and the few times he climaxed, he’d done it right on me. Christian had to have known, but if not, I didn’t want to verbalize that fact out loud.
With the crook of his finger, he tilted my chin up to look at him. “Your Creator took pleasure in degrading you. But if you allow yourself to feel ashamed about something you had no control over, then he wins. You’re strong. You have the gifts and potential to be a powerful immortal, and Fletcher knows that. I’ve heard a Mage can tell a lot of things from stealing another’s light. He wants you for himself, and that means never showing you what you’re capable of becoming.”
“And what’s that?”
He cupped my face with his hands and stripped me bare with his eyes. “Everything.”
I leaned forward to taste his lips again. So soft and pliant—a contrast from the hard, cruel man I knew him to be.
Christian drew back. “Are you just doing this to remember?”
I softly kissed the corner of his mouth and crawled onto his lap. “No. I’m doing this to forget.”
He sucked in a sharp breath when I licked his earlobe and then nipped it. Christian wasn’t touching me, and my constant craving for his physical affection became unbearable. I needed to feel something besides hate, besides pain.
He gripped my shoulders and held me back. “Don’t do something you’ll regret later. It’s too soon.”
“Stop saying that!” I struck his chest with my fists, my voice broken. “I can’t wait five years to get my life together again.
I can’t go on feeling this emptiness that’s growing inside me like a black hole. If I don’t feel something now—something good—I’m going to shatter into a million pieces.”
Christian wrapped his arms around me. “I won’t let you fall apart.”
With those words, he reclaimed my lips.
My fingers were lost in the tangles of his hair, my hips rocking against his. I put away my past so I could savor this moment without regret or fear. Christian’s kiss branded my soul, and though I still wasn’t sure what to believe about our relationship, I knew without a doubt that we’d kissed before. Maybe it happened two months ago or maybe in another lifetime, but my lips had known his.
An invisible connection held me to him, rousing my desire like never before.
He lifted me up with one arm and lowered me onto the enormous bearskin rug. Breathless, I watched as he admired my long legs with a fervent gaze. His fangs were slightly extended, exciting me on a level I’d never known. When his finger trailed up my thigh and stroked the outside of my panties, a soft moan caught in my throat.
Oh God, I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
“Let me see what’s mine,” he growled, slowly pulling them off.
Christian’s roguish good looks were defined by his midnight eyes and dark hair. As he stripped out of his shirt, I ran my fingers over the whiskers on his jaw and neck. Though I’d teased him numerous times about his beard, I never wanted anything more than to feel the scratch of his jaw down my breasts and thighs. Firelight cast shadows on the sinewy lines of muscle in his chest and biceps. He didn’t doubt himself. He didn’t hesitate or second-guess his actions.
“You’re nervous,” he said. “I can hear your heart racing.”
“Don’t eavesdrop on my heart.”
Taking his time, he crawled over me and hooked one of his fangs through the center of my bra. With a sharp tug, the fabric ripped apart.
I arched my back when his hot lips brushed against my nipple. Watching him, I wasn’t sure if his tongue or fangs excited me more. His mouth hovered above my breast, breath heating my skin while he peeled away my bra and tossed it aside.
Mage light surged to my hands, the sexual energy so intense that it flooded my body.
“Your skin is soft like butter,” he groaned.
A distant part of me wanted to laugh at his analogy, but he intoxicated me with his textured voice. They weren’t honeyed words but ones spoken with gratitude, as if speaking his thoughts aloud.
Christian moved to my other breast, one of his fangs grazing across the peak of my nipple.
I gasped. “Do that again.”
A dark smile touched his lips. “This?”
The second time he did it, I felt the pulse of a gathering orgasm. I was familiar with my Mage sexuality, but my Vampire impulses were new and completely unexplored.
I snapped my arm away when he touched my hand. Though I knew Mage energy wouldn’t hurt a Vampire, I instinctively protected him from my power.
Why was protecting Christian instinctual?
When I reached for his belt, he seized my wrists and straddled me. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, and he must have been wondering if I was going to flip out and stake him.
Had Fletcher ruined me?
“I’ll never know unless I do this,” I said.
I unlatched his belt, and a strangled moan escaped his lips when I pulled down the zipper on his trousers.
“I should warn you that I’m well endowed,” he said, a crooked smile hovering on his lips.
“By your Creator? With certain unalienable rights?”
“That among these rights are life, liberty, and the pursuit of your body.”
His smile disappeared when I freed his shaft. Christian might have been teasing, but he certainly had a reason to be cocky. As I circled my thumb over the sloped head, his eyes hooded. All the strange gaps in my memory closed, replaced by an inexplicable desire to know him. Memories of Fletcher disappeared like the dying embers of a fire.
I squeezed and twisted my hand, his body tensing in response.
Christian hauled me off the rug and stood up. His pants fell to his ankles, and he stepped out of them before carrying me over to the table. When he set me down on it, he dragged it away from the wall by a foot and planted a hand on either side of me.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
I stared, my legs trembling and heart thumping out of my chest.
He reached between my legs and cupped me, fingers sliding along my entrance. “I want to taste your blood.”
I swallowed hard. “What?”
Christian’s mouth moved to my ear, his words silken. “I want to drink you, but I won’t do it without your permission.”
He leaned back, and his gaze followed the movement of my tongue as I licked the corner of my mouth. When I pressed my thumb against the tip of one of his fangs, a drop of blood wetted his lips. He sucked the tip of my thumb and read my desires like the pages of a book. My blood gave him the answer that my lips could not.
Christian reclined me onto my back, sucking my nipples before working his way down to my navel. When he parted my legs, I quivered.
“It’s been years,” I admitted.
He chuckled darkly. “I once went two decades. Are you able to top that?”
When his sharp fangs dragged against my groin, right where my leg joined with my body, I knew exactly what he was going to do.
He licked my skin, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Was I ready to experience Vampire lust? Desire pulsed between my legs when I felt the sharp pressure of his exquisite bite. Without skipping a beat, Christian sucked hard and drank deep.
I moaned, gripping his hair tightly. My head spun. How could this feel so good? When Christian slipped his fingers inside me, I cried out.
“Not yet,” he murmured, licking the wound to seal it.
His body rubbed against mine as he dragged himself up to my neck and sucked on the skin above my artery. His cock rested between my legs and pressed against my opening, demanding entrance. When he raised his head and looked down at me, my stomach did a somersault.
“I can’t make love, Raven. I don’t know how. Not the way you deserve.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Then fuck me.”
His eyes closed. “You asked me not to treat you like the other women. This should be different.”
“Did you drink from them?”
“Sometimes.”
“Did they drink from you?”
He shook his head. “No. Never.”
I kissed his bottom lip. “Then give me your vein.”
Christian grew harder. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
I had no firsthand experience sharing sexual light with another Mage, but others said there was nothing like it. If my suspicions were correct, then blood sharing between Vampires had the same effect.
It suddenly dawned on me why Christian bent those women over a table. It was to keep from hurting them—a way to reduce physical contact and stay in control. Temple’s blood still coursed through my veins, enough to handle wherever this was leading. I didn’t want Christian to hold back or refrain from touching me.
I gripped the back of his head and pulled him to my mouth. The moment my fangs pierced his whiskery neck, he thrust himself inside me.
The flavor of passion swelled on my tongue, and a rush came over me. Christian was my drug, and I wanted more. He rocked his hips so fast that the table slammed against the wall.
“Jaysus,” he whispered.
Beneath the dark, sweet, exotic flavors, fire burned in his blood.
When I moaned loudly, pulling in another swallow, he whispered, “Fecking hell, you’re killing me.”
But I wasn’t.
Not even close.
I was wrecking him. All his fears of what this could mean were letters on my tongue, spelling out secrets. Blood knowledge wasn’t something I’d learned much about, but the deeper I drank, the clea
rer it became that this wasn’t just about sex for Christian. His body might have been fucking me, but his thoughts were tender and reverent. They were lush rose petals melting away the frost around my heart.
I retracted my fangs and sealed the bite.
His thrusts slowed to a near stop, and I felt every inch of him as he buried himself to the hilt. He never once stripped his gaze from mine, and a strange feeling came over me. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with the blood sharing, but our thoughts and our bodies became one.
Christian knew my desires, and I knew his.
Filled with his strength, I sat up, lacing my fingers behind his neck. He put his hands on my hips, and his touch meant everything.
“I need more of you,” he demanded.
The change in position brought me closer to release. Christian lifted me off the table, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Still inside me, he used his Vampire strength to grip my thighs and lift me up and down.
So much power—I could hardly wrap my head around it. My ankles uncrossed, and I found I didn’t need to hold on to him that tightly. I was boneless in his arms as he moved my body in rhythm with incredible speed, pounding into me and drawing out my pleasure. I moaned.
Loudly.
The look of titillation in his eyes suggested that he’d never done this position with anyone else.
My lips parted, and I moaned again. Every sound I made incited him to move even faster, his eyes wild. I’d never had anyone move my body this way, and it was incredible.
“You can put me down,” I struggled to say.
He slowed down. “Do you think it tires me? I could do this all night, Precious.”
“Not if you come.”
“I’ve got self-control. Have you?”
I leaned in and stroked my tongue across his artery. He went rigid, and the next thing I knew, we were on the bearskin rug.
“Do that again, and I will,” he promised, hovering over me like a predator.
Though I liked the wolfish way he looked down at me, I didn’t want to be beneath him. I pushed him onto my right side and threw my right leg over his hip. Instead of turning my back to him, I angled my torso so I was still flat on my back. It took Christian less than a second to adjust to our new position, and when he slid back in, we were perfectly aligned. He tortured me with shallow pumps, watching my face as I yearned for more.
