The Arrival (Children of the Morning Star Book 1)
Page 13
Shadows lapped at the golden halo illuminating her path. The entry was open. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold quickly, and forced herself to ease down onto the vanity’s bench. She methodically set the candles before the mirror and pulled the elastic from her hair. She absently ran her brush through her hair, her eyes stubbornly locked on the flames instead of her reflection, or the room behind it.
A spark of light drew her gaze to the cross Eric had placed around her neck. Lightly tracing the sapphires and diamonds, she marveled at their brilliant internal fire and unexpectedly awoke her own. Longing swept her up, dizzying and melodic, foreign yet comfortable, and draped over her like a summer cloak of clover and honey.
Her belly quivering with heat, she closed her eyes and doled a lingering kiss upon the cross. To avoid catching it with the bristles, she unclasped it and looped it over a drawer pull, and continued brushing her hair, watching the flames with an intensity she’d never before felt.
V
Eric rapped on the open door and hesitantly entered. He stood behind Paresh, watching her, knowing he shouldn’t be there. He took the brush and continued the motions for her, smoothing his other hand down the silky length with each stroke. He gritted his teeth, but he was powerless to leave. When their gazes met in the mirror, each reflected the same desire.
She caught his hand mid-stroke and lowered her chin, closing her eyes and skimming the back of his hand with petal soft lips. An involuntary moan, deep in his throat, spurred her to stand before him, stretching up on her tiptoes for his mouth. She hovered there without kissing him, her breath hot on his lips, his hot on hers.
He clasped her hands, closing his eyes with a slow breath out, and painfully whispered, “I can’t... the beast. It... I might hurt you.”
She freed a hand and flattened it against his chest. “The heart of this man controls the beast.” Her voice was a quiet spell, a magic she wove like vertigo, her breath coming faster and hotter.
“No... it can’t—”
She moved in swiftly with a kiss that shredded his willpower. He cupped her face and hungrily took command of her mouth, parting her lips with his tongue, exploring deeply, endlessly, completely lost in her.
He drew her up against his aching body and delighted when she melted into him with a moan. He freed her mouth to kiss along her throat’s graceful lines, too aware of her pulse pounding against his lips.
She threw her head back with a moan, savoring each kiss and caress. When his mouth reached the collar of her robe, he pulled the tie loose at her waist and lavished his attention on her mouth once more.
His fingers traveled down her throat and slid over her delicate collarbone and shoulders. He inched the silken material there back until it fluttered to the floor. Exploring, memorizing, relishing, his hands slid down her body slowly, lingering gently over her satin covered breasts and hips. His lips resumed their journey, drawing in the heat of her skin. Of her desire. Of the blood pumping beneath the surface.
He pulled her against him and stared at nothing over her head. The beast had heard that familiar swish. The beast was awake. And she was reaching for his shirt, working the buttons free.
He loosened his cuffs and let his arms fall to his sides. She shoved the fabric off and it crumpled at his feet. He shut his eyes tightly, desperate for restraint, but electric fingers tiptoed up his back and kisses like flames dotted a line from his shoulder to his neck.
He gasped as her lips traveled up his throat, the intensity of the pleasure finally sparking the first tinges of sensation behind his teeth. He straightened and faced the ceiling with a cry, grabbing her arms as he fought against the prickling that threatened to free the beast from its prison.
Oblivious to his plight, her burning palms flattened against his chest and she pushed herself up to his mouth and kissed him, gently at first, and then hungrily. He moaned and let his hands loosen to reach beneath her camisole. He paused when her fingers brushed the cross he wore around his neck.
She pulled back slightly, smoothing her finger and thumb over the holy apotrope, admiring it with a mixture of adoration and curiosity, and he watched her with new heat burning in his eyes. She was so beautiful. Her touch so delicate and gentle. Her blood so tempting...
His control racing away, he tossed his glasses onto the vanity and dipped under the satin, firmly gliding up over her navel and breasts. He nudged her arms and lifted the garment over her head, tossing it into the shadows. Holding her at the waist, he explored her bare back with his other hand, cupping her curves as he traveled lower and brought her leg up against his thigh.
Pulling her close, he leaned into her, aching for her both as a man and as the beast in waiting. She threw her arms around his neck with breathless whimpers that ignited his desire beyond the borderline.
Ravenous, he captured her mouth and held her tightly, guiding her to the bed without breaking their kiss, and knelt over her as he lowered her against the pillows.
She buried her fingers in his hair, moaning as he shifted his hands from her back to her breasts. When he lowered his lips to tantalize one stiff, aching peak with his tongue, she arched beneath him with a soft cry and reached for his waist, feverishly trying to loosen his belt.
He slid his hands toward her hips at a maddeningly slow pace and slipped beneath the lace covering. He pushed the delicate fabric down her legs and dropped it, then propped himself with one arm and helped her remove the rest of his clothing. As he settled on top of her and felt the heat of her naked skin against his, he knew the real battle had just begun.
His lips trailed down her cheek and he nibbled on her ear, whispering with a heavy breath, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she moaned, pawing at his neck and back. Her voice sounded as tortured as he felt.
Her body yielded willingly as he entered her. The pleasure that crashed over him was powerful enough to unleash the beast, and he was helpless, lost in her and in lust, thrusting as she moved in unison beneath him. He buried his face in her hair, holding her hips, his carnal moans melding with hers and slowly turning into growls.
He nestled his face further into her hair, waging war with the beast, but could not deny the call of her throat. Her whole body was temptation, but there her pulse thundered and seduced the beast.
He was too lost to despair, deafened to the voice in his head that urged him to fight, and blinded to the importance of the low growl rumbling in his throat.
The key was turning in the final lock.
Her pulse erupted and her excitement incited the beast into action. As the familiar ache spread along his jaw, he peered at her face, not surprised to see the same expression there as the night before. He pressed his lips against hers, parting them, eager to taste her again. To explore her teeth.
Her canines had lengthened. Slightly.
This aroused the beast, amplifying its lustful blood thirst. It roared, arrogantly triumphant that she’d survive its kiss. Saddened at the risk to her life and the loss of his internal duel, the ache in his chest faded and the pressure mounted, forcing his teeth out over his bottom lip, stretching his lower jaw, and shading everything crimson.
Soft hands cupped his face. She kissed him gently, meeting his bloodshot gaze with earnest eyes.
“It’s okay.”
“No. No...” His voice was raw with hot agony.
“I want to know you. To feel all of you. It’s okay,” she repeated, tilting her head back and arching her throat.
His teeth finished adjusting and the pressure broke under the beast’s insatiable hunger. He stared at her throbbing throat, craving to plunge below the surface, yet somehow summoning a thread of resistance. He ground his teeth against his lips, breaking his skin instead of hers.
“Trust me.” She traced a path along his ribs to place her palm flat against his heart. Her warmth seeped through muscle and bone, and, in that moment, the man and the beast became one.
He parted his mouth and lowered toward her throat, unable
to stop, not wanting to stop. The blind bloodlust of the beast had disappeared. His soul itself yearned for her to make him whole, to bond with him beyond the physical plane.
His teeth sank into her creamy flesh. She cried out in rapture—a crescendo of ecstasy pulsed throughout her body, pushing her over the edge of orgasm, sending ripples of pleasure coursing in an unending loop. Swimming in his own euphoria, he held her there as long as he could before he came with her, tightening his hold on her writhing hips as he thrust deep inside. She tasted sweeter than he had imagined. Sweeter than the fresh honey he remembered adding to tea on hot summer days as a boy. He had to force himself to withdraw from her throat before he killed her.
He lay on top of her, chest heaving with her blood dripping from his teeth and staining her skin. He had just watched the wounds heal, realizing for the first time that while he had forgotten about her restorative ability, she must have known. And, after living with Jonathan, that perhaps she knew more than she had told him.
With her neck arched back and tiny moans escaping her mouth between gasps for breath, he brushed hair from her face and inspected her teeth. They were nowhere near the length of his, but they had grown during their lovemaking. And that was not a natural, or even possible, human reaction.
Chapter Eight: Revelation
T he night was unusually quiet. Not a single cricket chirped. He listened to Paresh’s soft, even breathing beside him, and watched shadows cling to the corners, as if shying away from the moonlight bathing her naked shoulders and back. Gilded in silver and draped in white linens, she looked like a sculpted Greek statue.
“It’s okay,” she had said.
The night’s caress was pale over her golden curls, which split to expose the graceful arch of her neck and hid the subtle throb in her throat. He forced his eyes shut. The elegant curvature stayed in his mind, her taste on his tongue, her pulse a tempting rhythm to his ears. He stared at the ceiling with a huff, but his gaze drifted back to her. She had been immune to his bite, and that made him nearly delirious with desire all over again.
He envisioned the blood flowing beneath the milky surface and vertigo crashed over him in merciless waves. He wanted to take her again. To feel her soft skin yield to him, to cushion his teeth as he drew in her luscious—
“It’s okay,” she had said.
He glided his fingers through her hair, down her neck, her shoulder, and along her arm. The frenzied craving from before was gone, eased in the moment she had compelled the man and beast to coalesce.
The man in him had possessed no power to resist, and, in fact, had possessed a desire stronger than the beast’s. She had taken his will to fight and he had taken her blood, her purity. The man was the beast and the beast was the man. She had made him whole at last.
Twisting her curls around his fingers, he gazed longingly upon the delicate reveal of ivory above her shoulder. His love for her created a persistent thirst that blended hunger for blood with lust for flesh until no difference existed. Ecstasy had enveloped him the moment he bit into her throat and heard her cry, bringing him to the edge of rapture. His aura had overflowed and enveloped her, and, in that moment, they were one. She had felt as he had, reveling in concentrated pleasure not meant for humans to experience. She had wanted to know that part of him, and there he was now, naked in her bed with her bare form beside him, mere hours after making love and sharing an impossible spiritual bond. A bond strengthened by their similarities.
“It’s okay,” she had said. “Trust me.”
That intimate whisper, at that most intimate moment, had destroyed his already shredded web of control. It no longer existed. Maybe she had willingly offered herself, but he should still feel shame, should still be concerned. Yet, he was tranquil, and thirsty to taste her again.
She deserved better than him. She deserved a truth he had been hiding from himself since her birth.
It was impossible to deny that she was no ordinary human. An ordinary human would be dead. Most vampire bites injected an infectious protein into the bloodstream, but his did not. His was lethal. Even a kiss held the potential to kill.
He sighed and sat up. It was too late to worry about that now. Swinging his legs to the floor, he slid his tongue along his upper teeth and noted they were back to normal, and then wiped his face with his hands. He slipped into his trousers and stood at the window.
The moon sat high on its perch and reflected a brightness that frosted the forest canopy, brushed trunks silver and gray, and sank into the ebony interior.
Everything was still. Quiet. Peaceful.
Everything except his mind.
He turned away from the window and sat on the bed. Covering his face with his hands once more, he closed his eyes and tried to refocus his thoughts. An unwelcome prickle raced across his cheekbones.
He sighed. So much for peaceful.
“What are you doing in here?” Eric impatiently swiped his eyes and stared at the figure standing beyond the door. “I sure as hell didn’t invite you, and this is hallowed ground.”
“You requested my presence, Brother, and it was hallowed ground. That church is gone.” Jonathan stepped in from the dim hall and leaned against the wall. Pale light glinted off the starburst pin on his lapel. “And why does it matter what you say? She gave me a standing invitation and she is the property owner. Do you think I care about legalities?”
His copper strands flickered like fire as he shook his head. “I should be asking you what you’re doing in here, but we know that answer. Why did you summon me?”
“Allow me to plead ignorance for a moment, and tell me that I can trust you with my life,” Eric said quietly. “With any conditions that may apply.”
“Oh, you mean like with Andrew? I’m not sure I can make that promise twice in a row.” Jonathan crossed his arms.
“It worked with Andrew, right? You may be incapable of care, but Heaven forbid something happen to your precious investment—”
“Brother, Brother, Brother.” Jonathan tapped his index finger against his lip before popping it into the air. “You were the one who very clearly told Nathaniel that you weren’t the only vampire in this world, and look what happened to him.”
A wicked grin split Jonathan’s porcelain face. “Ha! Or should I say his wife?” He waved off Eric’s glare. “Assurances from me mean nothing. I may just lose patience and drain you dry.”
“Joshua.”
“Excuse me?”
“It was Joshua, not Nathaniel. You set that fire.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Oh right, Nathaniel was with Elizabeth, not Lily. Semantics. Who cares? They’re dead.”
“Literally because of you.”
A disgusted grunt came from Jonathan’s throat. “And thanks to you, I know their names. You didn’t seem to care much at the time. Oh, you came so gloriously close to banishing your human nature—if not for that infant.”
Jonathan shuddered. “Your insistence on staying with them sickens me. Surely you do it to torture me.”
“Yes, because it’s all about you,” Eric muttered, leaning forward on his elbows. He traced the grain of the wood floor with his eyes, reluctant to reveal his suspicions. But, it no longer mattered who was in control. Jonathan was right. There were others.
“She is unique,” he said, briefly searching Jonathan for a reaction.
Something indefinable rippled through Jonathan’s aura, but he stood impassive. “Don’t think your parlor trick at her birth makes me feel any differently toward her than any other human. She is not one of us.”
“Neither of us can deny that my blood gave her life, and even though she never fell ill as a child, I had no reason to suspect any transformation had taken effect.” Eric paused and glanced at her.
“Skin tone aside, she can heal like us and I’ve... she’s...” Furrowing his brow, he returned focus to Jonathan and sighed. “Last night—and again tonight—her canines altered.”
Eric noted with interest that Jonathan’s
face contorted first with shock and then with fleeting irritation. His brother hadn’t expected to hear that.
“She looks utterly spent,” Jonathan spat sarcastically. “I know what you’ve done.”
“The silence. That’s why the animals have stayed away. You’ve been here all day spying on her.” Eric licked his lips. “Why? Why do they have you tethered here? For her?”
Jonathan brooded quietly.
“You’re the one who tethers me here and you know it,” he snapped at last. “And now you want answers when you’ve been so uncooperative with giving me what I want—”
“As obsessive as always, I see. Even when acting as the High Council’s watch dog.” Eric sneered, impatience filling his chest.
“Oh, so shall we do this then?” Jonathan lifted an eyebrow and flashed another grin. He tossed his hands out and shrugged. “Because, I have no problem with that. I can put my mission on hold if you feel like succumbing. It makes no difference to me—after all, I will have you one way or another... eventually. My patience won’t last forever.”
Revulsion tickled Eric’s stomach. “Give it up already. I’m tired of fighting with you over that, and if you could really put your orders on hold, you wouldn’t have left me alone the other night.”
Jonathan’s lips widened. “You’ve known me too long if you think you can make assumptions like that.”
Eric groaned. “Can we please focus? You’re obviously not here to toy with me this time.”
“You’re the only thing that makes this wretched town worth its spot on the map. I always come here for you.”
Eric shot him an irritated look. “The High Council sent you here for me? No, I don’t think so. They know about her.”
Jonathan’s nostrils flared.
“Fine, Mr. Serious,” he bit through tight teeth. “You asked, so you tell. How she was after your lustful romp? How was her throat after you bit into it? By all appearances, she’s breathing. Dead women don’t breathe.”