Hunger

by Lillie J. Roberts

  On some level, I almost wished I could take it back. She deserved better. “Yes, I saw how he treated you, how he treated others. His disregard for life, even yours, and it’s a precious thing.” Again I knelt, my eyes squinted. “There would have come a day when he would have gone too far, and by actions or negligence, he would have killed you. At the very least, he would have broken you, changed you from the person you are to something unrecognizable.” Spinning away, unable to look into her eyes anymore, to see the disgust surely hidden in them, I continued, “I won’t bother you anymore once we’ve stopped … contained Loupgarin. I’ll leave that to you. I’d never hurt you intentionally.”

  Pushing my sunglasses back into place, hiding, I wandered around her living room. So unlike her father’s taste for the outlandish and gaudy, this room spoke of calm, bringing a feeling of serenity. “Just for this evening, I’d like us to stay together, in the same room. Would you mind resting here tonight? I don’t need sleep, and you can use the couch.”

  Her gaze followed me around the room. “I don’t blame you, you know. I could never blame you.”

  My heart stuttered before it came pounding to life as I listened to her words. She tugged my hand, turning me to face her. “You might think me a horrible person, but when Bobby didn’t come home,” a solitary tear slid down her cheek, “I was relieved … no, beyond relief and somewhere into jubilant. How does that make me sound? Like some heartless bitch who’s tired of a husband she should have never married in the first place?” More tears followed the first. “No, Ben, I don’t hate you. I loathe myself.” Then she twisted away as sobs racked her body.

  Standing in the softly decorated room, surrounded by what she cherished, it was hard to believe my ears. She thought herself heartless, when I had let my beast take her husband. I reached for her, pulling her tight against me, trying to quiet her tears.

  My lips found the top of her head. Delicate waves of vanilla floated through my senses, and my beast groaned to life, needing her, wanting to protect her. “Shhh …” I rocked her, beginning to pull her guilty pain away.

  Finally, she quieted, letting me hold her, absorbing the rest of her anguish. She twisted in my arms, pushing up on her toes to brush my lips with a soft kiss. “Thank you … you don’t know how much.” She leaned into my body, resting her head on my chest for a moment as my heart beat with new life. She slipped away from me, leaving a strange new coldness, like being deprived of the sun all over again. Without her beside me, never again would my body feel warmth. Mentally, I shook my head and smiled as I thought, wouldn’t you know it? I’d found love and couldn’t keep it.

  Late evening was giving away to true night, and I spoke to her, saying the words she needed to hear. I moved the curtain aside, glancing around the peaceful neighborhood. “Humanity is a gift, one you share openly.” I wanted to face her, but that fear she’d see the beast in me kept me from returning to her. “To feel the loss of a onetime loved one, to experience the pain, to quarrel with yourself even if the feelings are unfounded. No, it doesn’t make you a monster, it makes you human, like I can never be again. You go on, continuing to feel, to regret, to love. Your humanity is a valuable commodity. Your ability to see inside, your ability to live, despite everything else. No, you stay exactly the way you are.” The curtain fell back into place. I heard her soft steps, the quickening of her breaths, the increase in her heartbeat.

  “Ben.” She reached for my hand and brought it to the velvety softness of her cheek. “You have a special quality for understanding. You’re good, kind, everything I haven’t had in my life.”

  She wanted another monster in her life? “You’re wrong,” I said, “I’m quite the cold-hearted bastard.” Smiling, I drew my hand from hers. “We’ll spend the night here, okay?”

  “Let me get some blankets and pillows. We may as well be comfortable.” As I waited, she called to me, “Ben!”

  I rushed to her, fear growing. I should’ve searched her home before I let her leave my sight. What if …?

  “I only thought if we were going to spend the night together, here would be better.” Her bedroom was washed in shades of blue and lavender, cool yet appealing. The same muted song played, it must have been one of her favorites. Gemma Hayes soothing tones masked the background. Michela had taken the time to change, and she was a feast for my eyes. The soft fabric clung to her curves, each breath was a quiver.

  “Michela.” I cleared my throat as my body started to respond. “I think I’d better wait downstairs.”

  “Then you’ll be waiting alone. Has anyone told you, you talk too much?” She pushed back the comforter, climbed between the sheets, and patted the space beside her. “Come on, get in, I promise not to bite,” she teased.

  But there in lay the problem. I couldn’t make the same promise. With the comforter pushed back, she held out her small hand. It was almost a compulsion to lie next to her. I righted the blanket and laid down on top of it.

  She turned on her side to face me, the same hand now neatly tucked under her chin. “Are you going to get comfortable, or are you going to lie there like that all night?” She smiled and laughed as I gazed into her eyes. The only thing found in them was shining happiness. There was something about her, and it made me want to please her.

  Sitting up, I pulled my black polo over my head, tossing it to the floor to reveal the extent of my vampirism. The cool flesh of my chest was pale white. Vampirism had left my body well defined, but I’d like to think it was hours spent in the dojo, working with David and alone. Her fingers stroked my stomach, making me catch my breath. My skin covered in chill bumps, rippling with her touch. “Really, that’s it?” She placed her hand along my zipper. My cock pressed hard against it, begging for release. “Boxers or briefs?”

  My hand found hers, stilling her movements. “Neither.”

  “Oh,” she said as a fresh brush of pink tinged her cheeks, and then she tugged the zipper down anyway, bringing her lips to mine. “This is my choice. This is how I wish to spend the night.” Her blush deepened. “I’ve only known one other man, my virginity prized, and as it turned out, he wasn’t much of one. Let me know you,” she begged.

  Pushing up on my elbow, I stared down into her eyes. “Michela, my life is dangerous. I am the monster.”

  She shrugged her tantalizing shoulders. “I can’t believe that. Anyone who can bring me to life like you do, can’t be bad.”

  “You’d be wrong.”

  “Stay with me. Tenderness and passion are not things found in my life until you. The bed is new, let me christen it with happiness. Make me forget my life before you came into it. Let tonight be the first night of my freedom,” she pleaded.

  I gathered her closer, desire heating and hardening my body. “I can make you one promise, you’ll always be safe with me.” Crushing her closer, my lips found hers in a bruising kiss before straining away. My promise was one I intended to keep even if it meant my life was forfeited. Sighing, I lowered my lips to hers again, tamed this time, gentle caresses too long forgotten.

  Her fingers explored my chest, moving lower.

  My jeans found my shirt as I lie beside her, sliding between the sheets, taking in her beauty she so willingly gave. I had to squeeze my eyes closed. This was real, not a dream or my imagination. My arms encircled her body, drawing her close. She ran her hands over my flesh as I captured her full red lips. My tongue brushed along their seam until she opened hers, and our tongues probed, wondered, tasting and touching.

  A soft moan broke on her sigh, and I fought to maintain control, schooling my reactions to her needs. She pushed me back against the pillows, slipping across my body, her finely shaped hands stroking me. Her auburn curls flowed across my body, bringing goose bumps alive on my arms, across my chest. Her caresses continued until she found my throbbing shaft, and desire flared in her eyes. Her touch brought life to my pounding heart.

  Luxuriating in the feel of her body on mine, my beast rolled in her honeyed scent, vanilla and
cream and the sweetness of arousal, peaked in need. With hands both gentle and harsh, I found her pink buds to tease, marbleizing them as she groaned with pleasure. Hungrily, my mouth covered her nipples. I lavished one and then the other, sucking and pulling through the muslin fabric of her gown, but I wanted more, to have her all. My fingers glided beneath the loose material to find her center. It heated my flesh like never before. She was my treasure, my feast, my mate. My beast grumbled deep in my throat, and I lifted her to slide beneath my body, ripping away her gown with anxious hands. She gasped as I flung it to the floor. Her panties followed. “I’ll buy you more.”

  My hands became greedy with the need to touch, feel, take. My lips ached to feed from her, nipping, pulling, first one ruby tip, then finding the other. My hands moved across her body seeking her silky softness as she moaned. My fingers found her wetted core, and my body ready to burst with growing need. I wanted to mark her, to let the world know she was mine. With her hands guiding my mouth across her body, she pulled me back to her lips, grinding her hips into my hardness waiting to find entrance.

  With my heart hammering, I raised my head up to find her eyes. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself completely. I wasn’t the vampire, the protector, the monster … I was Michela’s lover. It crashed into me with the force of a freight train. It fell heavy on my chest, and I struggled to breathe. “Michela, I can still stop. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She put two fingers to my lips. “Shhh … I need this, I want it. I will have it.” She pushed herself up toward my hardness.

  A harsh groan of need escaped my lips, surprising me. The handle I thought I had on my desires vanished, and instead, found a home in the essence of her arousal. Slowly I drove into her damp folds, carefully pushing my length, stretching her wide as she tilted her hips to accommodate more. I wanted gentleness, but need over road sensibility as she pushed herself quickly over my shaft. My eyes bore into hers as my breath stuck in my throat.

  Growling low, it became a frantic battle of wills, me and my beast, Michela and desire, until all reason was lost. It became a delirious game of pleasure and need, giving and taking, receiving and acceptance. Her soul showed scars from years of neglect; my soul bore the mars from years of longing. As she came with a driving pulse, my beast won out as it found its home. Of their own volition, my fangs slipped into her sensitive flesh as she screamed out her pleasure and as I found mine.

  Gently, I cradled her exhausted body against me. My beast had found its mate, and it claimed her with a strange, new, powerful possessiveness. This side of my beast was unknown to me, but I knew nothing would ever come between this beauty and my beast. Not while she drew breath, or not even if she grew tired of my attentions. I promised myself to coax and cajole her. For her, I’d promise heaven even if hell was where I existed. For the one who brought harm to her, death would come. Now I understood why I’d never shared my secret with any other. The love I felt for Michela was all encompassing and made everything that came before her a pale in comparison. Here was my life mate, in the form of a mobster’s daughter.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Michela slept a little as I held her, but mostly she wanted to talk, about my life, her own, whether I liked my life. “Do you regret your decision?” she asked at one point. “Would you undo it if you could?”

  I shrugged slightly as her head rested on my chest. “Well … no and yes.” My voice rumbled into the darkness, and I thought for a few moments. “I guess sometimes I have, regretted it I mean. I think everyone regrets their choices at times, the good and the bad, but isn’t that true with everything you do or happens to you in life? It’s all a big jigsaw puzzle, and we’re trying to piece it together. But, would I change it? And my family?” Love burst across my senses. “You know the saying, you can’t pick your family? Well, I did and I wouldn’t change it.”

  Michela looked at me quizzically. “You’re telling the truth. You really love your family. You’re not sorry about your choice.” She smiled. “You’re remarkable and not because you feel duty bound to keep me safe, but because, you managed to see beyond all the crap in my life, to me. I could love you, Ben.”

  That made me catch my breath, and I brought my lips to hers. “I do love you, Michela Jennings, from almost the moment I saw you,” I whispered against them.

  “Sure, you say that now, but …” She grimaced. “My father … his conniving … his cavalier disregard for life.” Then she grinned. “I can’t wait to bring you home for dinner.”

  My head fell back into the pillows, my laughter a welcome relief to the worry. Then passion found us again, and we touched and tasted, until sated, only to find need blooming once more.

  For much of the night, we remained in her bed … near bliss, heaven, reviving life in a desert too long without rain. Even after we left her bed, I refused to let her out of my sight. It brought a much sought after peace, one I would not easily give up.

  “You know, I have a confession to make.” She smirked at me and it brought a smile to my lips. “I’ve been having daydreams of you since we met.”

  “What do you mean, daydreams?”

  She colored a little once more. “I mean like fantasies.” She laughed, her blush heightened.

  “Don’t.” I pressed my lips to hers. “Don’t be embarrassed by anything you tell me.”

  Her head nestled against my shoulder and my arms circled her tighter. “All I can say is you’ve surpassed any fantasy I might have had.” Her lips brushed my throat.

  “As you have mine. I think we’ve been sharing them,” I chuckled. This had never happened to me before—but at least it explained the dreams that had recurred since meeting Michela. Somehow, we’d become connected. “You’re mine, and I’ll be damned to let you go now.”

  *

  A false sense of security settled over me as we waited for morning. Could I keep my mate safe? I’d already taken care of one monster in her life, what was one more? But I had forgotten my own rule about human lovers, they are fragile things, easily crushed beneath a harsh hand. Her fragile existence remained mine to guard.

  Moving from window to window, I watched the night grow older, waiting for something to happen. Lucius touched my thoughts, and I let him know so far, everything was fine. But the feeling in my gut, the one that kept my beast alert, was saying danger wasn’t far. Lifting my face to the night air, the aroma of the poisoned rogue floated over me. Brushing Lucius’s mind again, we relayed and processed the information. He confirmed the scent of valerian as well, but would Loupgarin strike tonight?

  *

  It happened when I least expected it at the Vintonie home. He moved through Anton’s guard like an avenging angel through a mob of demons, only this avenger was a vampiric beast instead of an angelic guardian. Lucius reached out, grabbing my thoughts, as the vampire struck. “He’s here, Vintonie’s guards are decimated, he’s storming the house …”

  Gathering Michela close, I explained what was happening, and she urged me to go, to help my family. I called in her guards, both vampire and human, ushering them into the house to surround the one thing more precious than life. With little choice, I bolted the door with my exit, hoping to return as quickly as possible. I sped to the Vintonie home and right into the middle of a bloodbath.

  Bodies in various stages of dismemberment were scattered across the grounds. Hearts ripped out, heads, arms, legs, entrails … some baring fang marks, but this wasn’t about hunting, feeding, nothing but revenge. The battle continued to rage inside the house. I could hear the calls of the dying, and of my family.

  Lucius felt my presence and touched me. “Hurry … we’ve lost most of the guards and house staff … Loupgarin, I can’t …” Fear rode high in my mind, both for my family and my newfound love.

  Exploding through the unhinged door, I blurred from room to room, finally at the rear of the house. All of ten minutes had passed from the time of leaving Michela until this minute, but it was nine too ma
ny.

  *

  Loupgarin, eyes glowing red with madness, robes ragged, stood alongside one of his underlings infected with the same sickness, shaking with hunger. Lucius and David remained, both battle scarred, bloodied and clawed. Damn near beaten.

  Isabella and Anton Vintonie were nowhere to be seen. Then I felt the faint brush of Isabella in my thoughts. A crazed underling had caught up to them, and she was between the newly turned vampire and Vintonie, putting up a valiant effort to thwart his desires.

  Lucius’s consciousness screamed into my thoughts with one word, Go!

  The safe room, where Anton and Donny had taken refuge, lay in disarray. Here too, the door lay in shambles, pulled away from the wall. Donny lay at Isabella’s feet, bleeding but breathing; Anton bore several wounds, but managed to keep his feet. Isabella had called her beast, and the bloodlust beat against the walls of the small room.

  As I entered, the battle for Anton Vintonie was underway. Isabella growled low in her throat as the underling made his play. Though she wasn’t as old as Lucius or myself, she had one thing the newly turned did not, untiring strength. Bloodlust is a powerful force, but the young vampire couldn’t see beyond the lust to strike. If Loupgarin had trained the new vampire, he would have realized his mistake.

  Isabella stepped into the young vampire’s path, his claws skimming across her abdomen, and still she fought as her blood splashed the floor, lashing out as the underling’s cheek fell open in a huge ugly gouge. She rolled away from the youngster, but as luck would have it, he reached out in time to brush one claw across her chest, not a killing wound, but a debilitating one. Blood blossomed fresh over her blouse. Her eyes grew wide as she slid to the floor, resting upon Donny and the bloodthirst pounded harder with the need to heal.

  “Hang on, Isabella, just a few minutes more.” I stepped into the underling, breaking his ribs with one powerful thrust, his heart crushed in my hand, and with the other, his throat. His head flopped sideways as it tumbled from his shoulders. Pushing his body aside, I knelt next to Isabella, offering my wrist, but she shook her head, a new pink scar sealed the wound.