The Half-Breed Vampire

by Theresa Meyers

  Somehow, she’d managed to find her way past his carefully constructed barriers. He was a lot more like Raina than he ever would have guessed. Neither of them were wholly a part of the world in which they lived, and yet each of them had been called upon to be the go-between for their people and the Weres.

  “Aren’t you going to sleep, too?” Her sleepy voice startled him from his brooding, but the sight of her drained every lucid thought out of his mind.

  A cloud of mussed, dark hair hung loose over her shoulders, the long ends of it curling around the subtle curves of her breasts outlined by his T-shirt. Clearly she’d taken off her bra. He liked her wearing his shirt. More, he liked the way it skimmed the tops of her thighs, giving him a peek of the sleek, smooth curve of her ass.

  Damn. He looked away and fisted his hand. Being noble sucked. Bad. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can go without sleep for days.”

  She crossed her arms, creating a shelf just under her breasts. “Look, I’m not the only one who needs some sleep. You got beat up far worse than I did the last time we encountered the Weres. That had to take something out of you.”

  Slade grumbled. She was driving him nuts. For once he was trying to do the right thing rather than find a way to skirt around the rule book. And here she was—temptation at its finest—daring him to step over the line.

  Maybe he just needed to clarify the differences between them and show her exactly how real a vampire he was. Scare her off a little. Maybe that would defuse the tension that eddied in the air between them like heat waves off hot asphalt. “Fine. You want to see where I really sleep?”

  Her brow furrowed slightly. “I’ve been sleeping in your bed.”

  He unfolded himself from the recliner and stalked past her down the hall. Slade ran his hand along the bedroom wall until his fingers encountered the light switch and the switch beside it. He flipped both of them at once.

  The room blazed with light and the whole bed began to lift, folding into the wall like a Murphy bed. Beneath it was a king-size hole cut into the bedrock, lined with the same black satin sheets that had been on the bed. He nodded to the hole in the ground. “That’s where I really sleep.”

  He watched a shiver skate over her skin and heard her heartbeat pick up the tempo. It looked like a satin-lined grave, and he knew it. That’s why he never showed it to anyone who wasn’t already vampire.

  “You sleep in the ground?”

  He leaned his shoulder on the door frame. “Disappointed it wasn’t a coffin?”

  “No, just wondering why you have a bed if you don’t sleep in it.”

  Slade bent his head and blew out a breath, fighting for control. Ah, hell. Who was he kidding? There was only so far he could go with self-denial and she’d just given the final kick to the door of his self-restraint. He’d sampled the smooth texture of her skin, tasted it, sunk his fangs into her and was damn tempted to taste the rest of her, too.

  He gazed at her. There was no way he could resist her freshly-tumbled-out-of-bed look and the strawberry-tinted scent of female heat that swirled around her. He wasn’t a saint. He was a vampire.

  His eyebrow arched up and his lips tilted into a seductive tilt of his mouth that made her stomach swoop. “Would you like me to show you?”

  The low, rumbling quality of his voice impacted her like a ride on a throaty motorcycle, making her thighs shake. There was no room for misinterpreting his offer. Raina’s skin tightened with expectation. She let her gaze travel from his sculpted mouth made for sinful kisses, to the distracting divot on his chin, then down his chest and lower to the bulge beside the zipper of his pants.

  Raina reached down and grazed her hand over his hardened length. “I can think of something I’d like to see a whole lot more.”

  He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment, tipping his head back, and when he opened them and stared down at her they were the color of caramel, dark with desire. Flick. His fangs extended fully, indenting his bottom lip. “Not pulling any punches, are you?” The edge of his voice was raspy with barely leashed control.

  Raina looked up at him through the fan of her lashes, and the tip of her tongue traced a slow, slick path over her top lip. His pupils dilated. His eager response made her giddy with power. Her pulse spread out to her fingertips, then traveled lower to the apex of her thighs.

  A sensual smile curved her lips. “Why should I? There’s no crime in knowing exactly what you want.” She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled him into her, kissing him fiercely. Letting all the pent-up desire she’d been shutting away out into the open. His kiss, hot, firm and demanding, caused the slow burn inside her to flare into full flame. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as the need took her in a heated wave.

  Determined to bring him as close to the edge as she was, she deliberately laved the length of first one fang in a slow sensual slide of her tongue and then the other, knowing it would arouse him further.

  Slade growled, the sound vibrating against her mouth and shimmering down her body as he wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her off the floor, crushing her against his chest. His kisses, powerful, raw and needy, stripped away her ability to breathe and made her squirm. Heat pooled low in her belly, making her thighs slick. She wanted him. All of him.

  “You’re dangerous. You know that?” he murmured between drugging kisses as he flipped the switch on the wall and stalked toward the descending bed and tossed her onto it. She bounced slightly on the mattress. Raina propped herself up on her elbows and then crooked her finger in a come-here motion.

  Slade’s jaw jumped and tensed as he grasped the edge of his T-shirt and peeled it off over his head in one fluid movement, tossing it to the floor. He was gorgeous. The broad span of his shoulders and his powerfully built torso and arms made her pulse with need. It had been so long since she’d let herself go that all her senses were hyperaware of him. The dark storm raging behind his eyes, the leather scent that mixed with the smell of clean male, the touch of his hands on her.

  Raina lifted her leg and with her foot she stroked the hard curve of his pecs and down the ridges of his abdomen, following the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. With her toes she tugged at the edge of his waistband. “Pants, too.”

  “Vixen,” Slade murmured as he shucked off his pants. Raina made a low sound deep in her throat at the sight of him bold and aroused. She’d suspected that he was built, but not nearly as well as this. She sat up and circled his penis with her hand, lightly stroking the silken hot length of it and brushing the small bead of moisture at the tip with the pad of her thumb.

  Slade closed his eyes and fisted his hands by his sides, letting her do whatever she pleased, which only made her more brazen. Raina traced the same path of her thumb with her tongue, surprised at the smoothness of his skin, then slid her mouth over him.

  He shuddered. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She released him and gave a throaty laugh. “Where would the fun be in that?” She patted the bed beside her. He sank down, stretching out on the mattress. The hot, hard length of his body beside hers warmed her, but it wasn’t nearly enough.

  Raina twisted in one smooth move, straddling him. His erection pulsed against her, but was blocked by damp underwear. “But first, I think you need to show me a few of your vampire skills. If you’re so good at phasing things, could you take care of—”

  Faster than she could blink, he phased away both her T-shirt and her underwear, leaving her deliciously naked and suddenly intimately pressed against him. The brush of air caused her skin to contract, making it even more sensitive. Raina gasped at the sensation and lightly grazed her wet heat against the length of his shaft, teasing both him and herself. “Nice. Very nice.”

  Slade grasped her hips, his large hands partially cupping her bottom on each side. His eyes were luminous, glittering with need. “Now I know you’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, as he flexed against her wet heat and kissed her
deeply.

  She placed her hands on his muscled shoulders and lifted up, the air space between them leaving her wanting more of him. Raina broke their kiss, staring down at him, both of them surrounded by a curtain of her dark hair. “Are you going to touch me, or do I need to draw you a diagram?” she teased.

  Her challenge apparently hit home. His expression changed from restrained heat to intense raw sexuality in a heartbeat as he grasped her by the hips and rolled them over.

  “How about you tell me when I find it?” His mouth slanted hot and hard over hers as his hand slipped around the curve of her buttock, squeezing her bare bottom.

  She broke their kiss. “Lower,” she urged.

  His deft fingers moved down along the seam of her buttocks, then threaded through her curls and skimmed along her damp folds, stroking her as he kissed a searing path across her breasts and down her ribs. Raina bucked as the tension inside her coiled even tighter.

  He raised his mouth from her skin. “Am I getting warm?” he chuckled.

  “Deeper.”

  He scraped his fangs along the ridge of her hip, sending small tremors shooting along every nerve ending. Raina gasped as he slipped a finger inside and slid his thumb over the small nub hidden within her cleft, then moved both in unison. She lifted into the sensation, her breath shallow and fast as sparks ignited under her skin, turning to starbursts before her eyes.

  “What about now?”

  “More!” she moaned.

  Slade felt her shake beneath his hands as he withdrew his fingers and cupped her bottom, lifting her. He lightly scraped a path along the smooth, sleek skin of her inner thigh, laving the abraded skin as he came closer to her damp, fragrant heat, enjoying the sound she made. He’d known she would be hot, but never this responsive.

  He swirled a path with his tongue where his fingers had been repaying her the torment she’d given him. Raina writhed, fisting her hands in the silk sheets. Slade suckled her hard, pulling from her the last bits of her control and resistance. Raina arched, a moan sliding from her throat as her body convulsed.

  Not satisfied to merely torment her, Slade slipped his fingers into the slick smoothness of her, setting a rhythm that had Raina panting and writhing against his touch. He wanted to watch her come undone. Her skin shimmered with perspiration, her heartbeat pounding so fast and hard that it sounded like a heavy driving bass guitar.

  “Am I getting warmer?” he asked, his tone seductive and low as he moved over her, their sweat-slickened skin causing him to slide over her curves.

  Her dark eyes glittered, a bit manic. “Red-hot, but what I want is to feel you.” She ran her hand along the smooth, hard planes of his back and over his hip, sliding her hand between them and grasping him in her hand.

  Slade bucked, almost losing it. Damn, he loved that she knew what she wanted. She lifted her hips, drawing him into her silken heat. He sank home. The effect was electric, rocketing through him with a jolt that left him stunned. Her body, inside and out, tightened, going rigid. Slade cried out and Raina joined him, her heart beating hard enough against his chest that he could have sworn it beat for both of them.

  He touched his forehead to hers, brushing kisses over her cheeks and along her mouth. “You okay?” He was terrified that in his need to have her he’d gone too far and hurt her.

  “I’m…better…than…okay,” she said breathlessly. “I just can’t move.”

  Slade chuckled. “Let me take care of that.” He curved his arm around her and rolled slowly, clasping her soft, sleek body to him until she rested against his chest. Her hot, moist skin and supple body were limp and relaxed against him. He gently brushed aside the dark strands of hair sticking to her damp cheek, then ran his fingers down her back in a smooth, gliding touch that followed her spine.

  “Mmm. That’s nice,” she murmured against his skin, her voice sleepy. He drew the sheets and blankets up around them then continued to stroke small circles on her skin until her breathing changed, becoming slow and rhythmic.

  Somehow, she’d stopped the crazy world and for a moment there was peace. The tranquility of the moment hit him hard. How long had it been since he’d felt this way? Never.

  She snuggled up closer and he wrapped her in his arms. He relaxed into the moment, letting it fill him up, knowing that he’d need it…later.

  The wolves ran through his dreams, snapping and howling, their eyes reflecting the orange-red flicker of the campfire, making them look like hellhounds. They circled, closing ranks, and yipping to one another as they came together, shoulder to shoulder.

  Just beyond the rim of the fire’s light were the shadowy figures of humans standing in an outer circle. Voices joined in a slow, rhythmic chant measured by a drum, echoing like a second heartbeat in his ears. He tried to crawl away from the center of the circle only to find himself nose to snarling muzzle with one of the wolves.

  The chanting pounded in his brain, jus-tice, jus-tice, jus-tice, and he dug his fingernails into his scalp, ripping downward across his ears trying to make it stop.

  The drums and chanting stopped.

  The wolves advanced.

  He screamed as one gripped him by the throat and the others sank in their teeth and tore him apart.

  Only suddenly he wasn’t the one in the circle any longer. He was alone, looking through the trees at his mother, her slender hand raised and shaking as bits of her clothing and hair flew outward, her screams piercing his ears. A wolf turned, stared at him, his muzzle red with gore, the flesh and blood of his mother. Slade huddled closer to the tree, wishing he could simply disappear.

  Something soft stroked the side of his face and his eyes snapped open. He inhaled deeply and found his nose filled with the sweet, womanly scent of Raina. The aching muscles in his back and stomach released.

  “You were having a bad dream,” she whispered. “A pretty violent one from the look of it.”

  With aching realization, his chest grew heavy. He tossed the tangled sheets aside, letting the night air cool his skin. “It wasn’t a daymare. It was a memory.” He turned, pulling her close to him. “I remember what happened to my mother. I was there.”

  Raina gasped, her fingers covering the open O of her mouth, her hand shaking. “You couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.

  “I was eight. Those wolves that killed my mother—” he looked deeply into her eyes “—are part of the Wenatchee Were pack, right?”

  Raina bit her lip and nodded. “They said she’d betrayed the alpha. She was to be his mate. She’d stolen Bracken’s child away from them.”

  This time his eyes widened. “You were there?”

  Raina squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the bitter memory and shuddered. “It’s part of the reason I never wanted to be the Whisperer. I saw what the ancestors did to her when I was just six. How can they call that justice? She didn’t ask to be part of their stupid pack. She was chosen, without her consent, just like me. They were the ancestors. They were supposed to take care of us. I had no idea they were shifters.”

  Slade pulled her into his bare chest, holding her close. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I swear it.” For the moment Raina let herself take comfort in his strong arms, but deep down she knew it wouldn’t last.

  “What are we going to do?”

  Slade glanced at the clock. “Well, we’ve slept the day away. It’s about time we head down to Sangria and see what we can dig up from the others to help us with our plan.”

  Chapter 13

  Evening traffic streaked by on the street, the headlights bobbing as Slade and Raina cruised by on the downtown streets of Seattle. Music, a combination of guitar and drums and enthusiastic singing, drifted up from the waterfront on the evening breeze coming off the Puget Sound. Overhead, the red throbbing beat of the neon Sangria sign over the club door reminded Raina of a heartbeat.

  “So if this is where the Cascade Clan hangs out topside, why is
n’t there something like it in the clan complex?”

  Slade glanced at her. “Because not everyone who comes here is a vampire. Some are donors and others are just normal mortals out for an evening. This is just the place where all those worlds collide.”

  “And what about the Weres? If they come out do you think they’ll ever be welcome here?”

  Slade snorted. “Not likely. Do you have any idea how many brawls they’d start?” He opened the padded black leather-studded door for her.

  Inside, Sangria looked like a combination trendy popular dance club and an underground cavern with up-lit stalactites and down-lit stalagmites conspicuously placed to bracket the cushy crimson velvet booths. The booths, which lined the right wall, edged the pale wood dance floor that pulsated with a light show and a noisy crowd.

  Raina focused past the driving bass of the music and moving bodies, concentrating instead on taking in her surroundings—looking for exits and determining any potential problems. To the left was a long, highly polished black-and-chrome bar with mirror-backed shelves filled with various bottles. To the back were a series of velvet curtains. “So what’s behind the curtains?”

  Slade arched a brow. “Ignore what’s behind the curtain.”

  “So said the Wizard of Oz.” She snickered. “Seriously, what’s back there? Gambling? Illegal activity?”

  “Always thinking like a cop, aren’t you?”

  Raina lifted her chin. “Suspicion and observation comes with the territory, kind of like having to drink blood if you’re a vampire.”

  “They’re the tasting rooms for the club. Rare vintage wines, blood, absinthe. Whatever legally turns on the patrons.”

  “Does the clan run this club?”

  Slade nodded. “In fact, see that big dark-headed guy over there? He runs it. That’s Dmitri Dionotte, our clan Trejan.”

  Standing with his big hands on the shoulders of a blonde, Dmitri seemed almost as imposing and intense as Achilles, but far darker and more serious, like Slade. She recognized Dr. Chamberlin seated beside the blonde and Achilles next to her.