Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles
Page 27
“Never?” she asked, incredulously, staring into his large, beautiful ruby eyes.
“Never,” he repeated in earnest and stood, knowing what he must do to make Jeanie believe and trust him. “I promised you that before when I asked you to trust me, and I will swear to it too if I must.”
Crossing to the back of the room, he took down his sword from the wall and went back to sit on his bed. With a hiss of metal against its sheath the blade lay naked across his lap. Jeanie stared in awe at the beauty of such a sword.
“Before I was Made and became Chosen,” he explained, gazing at the ancient sword, “the only other living soul I knew – besides the woman who raised me – taught me how to be a warrior – to wield a sword. This was his sword, given to me by his daughter after he was killed in battle. It is as old as I, maybe older.”
Carefully grasping the sharp blade where the dragons intertwined, he lifted it so that the sword was held point up between them. “Take hold of the hilt,” he ordered. “With both hands.”
She did as she asked, her hands shaking. Jeanie had never held or seen such a fine weapon. They, again, were things made of stories. There was no weight to the blade, held firmly in his white grip.
His serious eyes caught hers across the steel of the blade. “I swear to you, Jeanie Stuart, upon this sword, and before what Gods men believe now that I will never let you come to any harm. If I do, may this weapon be turned against me.” Slipping the sword back into its sheath, he laid it at the foot of the bed.
Jeanie sat strangely quiet; unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. “No one has ever made me feel so safe, so cared for. No one has done what ye hae done for me. I dinna think it matters if yer a vampire and what that all means. What ye were before I knew is still the same as what I know now and it makes me love ye even more.”
Silence crashed between the two of them as Jeanie’s insistence sank in. Noticing that something was wrong by his baffled expression, Jeanie asked, “What’s wrong?”
The question snapped him out of his reverie and he shook his head. “Haven’t you been listening to me?” Incredulous, he stood, leaving her to sit on the bed and stare up at him. “I am not human!” He thumped himself hard on the chest with his hand. “I am Chosen – vampire, immortal, whatever! I have lived by draining the blood of mortals for about fourteen hundred years! I have killed for my blood lust. How can you say you love me when it cannot be possible?”
Jeanie bore his outrage in stoic silence before she pushed herself off the bed to stand facing up at him. She sucked her teeth until her lips smacked, and then she bore in.
“For someone as old as ye claim, ye're pretty daft.” He gaped at her. “Aye, I’ve heard ye, an it seems ye dinna hear me verra well. I told ye I love ye. I dinna care what you are. I only care who ye are. Life is horror and death. I’ve seen my fair share of it before I ever came here. I’ve known men who’ve kilt for nothing more than spilt whiskey and a misplaced word or two. Ye are no like them in the least. If ye were ye wouldna hae sworn that oath and ye wouldna be tryin’ so hard to push me away. And as for it no bein’ possible for me to love the likes of ye, ye are so verra wrong. I told ye before, and I’ll tell ye again, I’ve loved ye since the first, when I was newly brought to this home, saved by the Good Father, and until now I was too afraid to tell ye.”
It was still not possible, and he wished he could wake up. Jeanie’s words struck him to the core, yet he continued to deny them. “But I’m not human,” he weakly stated, mournfully shaking his head.
The sadness in his large ruby eyes extinguished her anger and she took a step towards him. “Ye are, in here.” She laid her hand on his chest. “That’s all that matters to me.”
Cautiously, Jeanie entwined her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and sighed when she felt his arms encircle her, returning the embrace.
Time seemed to stretch into eternity and she knew what she wanted next but was afraid to ask.
Tilting her face up to his, she haltingly ventured, “Will ye make love to me?”
She was so beautiful, more wondrous than Tarian’s granddaughter. There was a strength in Jeanie he never imagined. He could see the love in her eyes and he woefully realized that he was rejecting it out of fear. He had faced so many unknowns before but this one terrified and thrilled him. Bending down, he succumbed to his own needs and tasted of her lips again, desperately wanting to take her and felt her desire blossom as she opened for him.
Realization of what he was doing slammed into him and he pulled away, shaking his head.
“I cannot,” he stated sadly.
He could not attempt the risk, but mainly because of a somewhat embarrassing truth.
“Is it because ye are a vampire?” ventured Jeanie. The kiss of his soft lips against hers made her whole body tingle and she desired more. Hearing his refusal confused her. She thought she felt the same need in him as they had shared the embrace.
“Chosen,” he automatically corrected.
“What?” Jeanie’s face lit with confusion.
“Chosen. That is what we have always called ourselves.”
“Oh,” she said, sadly. “Ye canna because ye are Chosen?”
“No,” he replied, suddenly becoming uncomfortable at where this was leading. “Do not take it the wrong way. I do want to. I have for so long. Ever since Notus made a place for you in our home.”
“Then why?” She stared in genuine curiosity, warmed by his admission of his desire for her.
Releasing her, he sat back down on the bed. “The risk and – ” He gazed sheepishly up at her. “It’s been centuries since the last time.”
Jeanie blinked. The risk, whatever that was, was something she was willing to take, but this admission astonished her. “You mean in all that time you haven’t?”
He nodded feeling the sudden flush of heat into his face and was glad that the single candle would mask his embarrassment.
“But you have –”
“Yes.”
A small smile of understanding lifted her lips and she stepped close enough to lean against his knees. She placed a hand on his face and watched him close his eyes and sigh. “My first time was the night the Good Father brought me here, when he rescued me while I was being raped.” His eyes popped open in surprise. It was clear that he had not known. “So I guess we can both help each other.” She leaned over and kissed his full soft cool lips.
When she finally came up for air, he let his hands remain on her arms.
“Chosen are unlike mortals,” he stated, suddenly worried. “I could easily kill –”
His words were stifled when her fingers pressed to his lips. “Shhh. Ye swore an oath to keep me from harm. I trust ye with all my soul that ye will keep true to yer word.”
Jeanie did not allow him another word of protest by replacing her fingers with her lips, and this time he permitted himself to enjoy the kiss as she straddled across his legs. The sensual taste of her drove him on and he hungrily worked passionately down her throat. Luscious cinnamon hair tickled his face as he felt her pulse begin to throb with more urgency beneath his lips. Oh how he wanted to pierce her soft pale skin to taste of the sweet nectar, instead he pulled himself away from her inviting neck with a groan.
It had been so incredibly long since his passions were returned without expectation of being used. It was made more intoxicating by the fact that she knew what he was and accepted it and him. He did not have to hide from her. For the first time he did not have to conceal the truth of his needs or his desires. In his wildest dreams he never imagined this to be possible and he kissed her urgently, feeling her mouth open to his, allowing them to explore and taste each other.
Cupping his face, it was now Jeanie’s turn to slowly work down his throat, sucking and licking. Head back, he closed his eyes and let out a hiss of delight as she nibbled on his neck. Unable to bear the teasing of her dull mortal teeth, he gripped her shoulders and pushed her away before he l
ost what little control he maintained.
“What’s wrong?” she implored, witnessing her lovers struggle.
“Don’t…don’t do that,” he finally managed to gasp.
“Why?” Her face contorted in worry.
“Just trust me on that.” Her concern did not disappear, forcing him to explain. “I have never…with my own kind…but I do know that the exchange of blood is the height of the experience. If you had continued teasing me like that I would not have teased you.”
Realization widened her eyes. She would have to be more cautious if she was to come out alive, but he swore an oath and he was well worth the risk. A playful glint alighted her sparkling green eyes.
“Tease, eh?” she smiled. “So teasin’s out. I think I can handle that.”
She found his mouth again savouring his taste, feeling his hands expertly working the fastenings of her dress.
She tasted so good and he wanted more, urged on by the sudden rapidity of Jeanie’s breathing and beating heart. She wanted him as desperately as he wanted her, and he relinquished the last vestiges of control. It had been so long since he felt such visceral desire, but coupled with the love she had declared and his own unspoken feelings, he allowed himself to give in. The wall that had stood for centuries crumbled as if made of dust, releasing him to finally believe he could be truly loved for who and what he was, something he was told could never happen.
As soon as the last fastening released, Jeanie pulled back with a gasp for breath, smiled and pulled the dress over her head without any care for the delicate fabric, and tossed it to the side, landing puddled on the floor. Standing in her shift, Jeanie looked magnificent, and his need for her jumped as he watched her remove her shoes and stockings.
Craving to drink in more of her succulent form he let his hands roam down her warm back, dipping them under her shift, lifting to expose what he had only ever seen in silhouette. Jeanie assisted by raising the shift over her head, letting it fall next to the dress. He sat there, basking in the sight of her nude form.
Tentatively he ran his hand down her bruised shoulder to cup a large luxuriant breast. Running his thumb across her rose coloured nipple, he felt it harden in response. Encouraged by Jeanie’s catch of breath, he took her nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking at her erect nipple, feeling her heart beat faster beneath his lips until she gasped.
Releasing her breast, he trailed kisses up her neck, past the intoxicating vessel, to feast from her mouth again. He felt her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and could sense her urgency matching his. Without a care to the expensively tailored clothing, he ripped it open. With her help, they push-pulled the fabric off his shoulders without releasing their kiss. It was only when he tried to get his hands free that he reluctantly broke off to quickly unclasp the cufflinks. Once free, his shirt landing next to her clothing on the floor, he grabbed her, pulling her close and kissed her again, impaling her mouth on his, driven by the touch of her skin to his.
She managed to whip off his belt. She wanted to see him, all of him. The sight of his pale naked chest drove her on in her night of discoveries, but was met with resistance when it came to taking off his trousers. Standing back, she watched as he hurriedly kicked them off and sent his socks flying.
Naked in the illumination of a single candle flame, they imbibed in each other. Her dilated eyes flashed with a mixture of trepidation and desire at the sight of his arousal.
Taking her hand in his, he led Jeanie to straddle him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He wanted her to feel secure in her ability to do what was right for her, yet he needed to be consumed by her. Gently, oh so carefully, she lowered herself onto his rigid member, her breath coming in fearful shudders until he filled her completely forcing a gasp from her lips.
The scent of her blood and the feeling of her pulse surrounded him in a soft heat that went through him like a shock wave. His eyes held hers, wide with surprise and excitement, as she slowly began to ride.
It was exquisite and he found her mouth again, moving together, filling her completely until each thrust caused her to moan. Releasing her mouth, Jeanie clutched at him as he bent her backwards to find the second best jewel. Her shocked cry as he held her with one hand and sucked, flicking his tongue on her nipple, encouraged him to plunge faster, and was rewarded by her increasing gasps.
Jeanie could not believe that it could be like this. Her hopes and fantasies of being with the Angel did not compare to the reality of having him impaling her over and over. She wanted him to devour her, as she wanted to take him deeper into herself, knowing that he had gone as far as she could allow him. Each thrust was an exquisite mixture of pain and pleasure until she realized that the pain in her legs started to override her pleasure.
Leaning up, she whispered into his ear, “My legs.”
They halted their motion and he glanced down at her kneeling legs. With a nod, he lifted her effortlessly as he stood, never disconnecting them, and turned to lay her down on the bed. Raised on his knees, her legs wrapped around his slim waist, he held her and began once more.
The gasps came unbidden to Jeanie’s lips as he drove into her. Her eyes rolled back as she clutched the insubstantial bed covers. His body an alabaster god looming above hers. Long white hair swept over her body, setting her sensitive skin afire.
All around him was the scent of her blood throbbing through her body, driving him on as her cries grew louder until he felt her begin to tighten around him. He did not know how much longer he could hold back his release as he breathed in her erotic scent.
He found her mouth once again, but it was not enough. He followed the curve of her jaw down to the throbbing vessel in her neck. The scent and the pounding heat of her heart tightly enveloped him and he knew he could hold back no longer. With a groan of release he sank his teeth into her neck.
An explosion of blood filled his mouth as Jeanie screamed her convulsing climax. The eruption of the taste, co-mingled with his own desires, rocked him and he rode the waves of his own throbbing release as more of Jeanie’s blood filled him. On they rode. Every convulsion brought more blood, fuelling his shuddering release.
Suddenly Jeanie sagged beneath him, exhausted by the throws of her body and he reluctantly pulled his mouth off of her delicious neck. The four puncture marks glared angrily at him and then began to fade. In a short while they would be nothing more than a dull ache.
Gazing into her smiling face, he tenderly kissed her and returned the smile.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen ye smile,” remarked Jeanie, running her fingers along his cheeks. The smile made him appear even more youthful. “Aye, I like it. Ye should do it more often.”
A small laugh escaped his lips – another first – and he pulled out to lie down, bringing Jeanie with him.
“I love you, Jeanie Stuart,” he exclaimed before he kissed her again.
The flickering luminescence from the single candle turned the underside of the wooden canopy into a landscape mottled with light and shadow. His attention was drawn from the soothing sight by the movement beside him, and he moved his left arm, making room for Jeanie to snuggle closer. Her fingertips lightly traced the strong lean muscles of his chest. Content and truly happy for the first time in a very long time, he sighed. Wrapping her silky arm over his chest, he hugged her.
“Are you alright?” he asked, wondering at the marks on her neck that he could not see from this angle.
“Mmmm hummm,” she smiled lazily, lifting her face to see his. “Aye, I’m fine. No. Better.” She broke apart from the embrace to smooth out the worry in his face with her hand.
Her fingers felt hot to the touch and he turned his head to kiss them. “No dizziness or nausea?”
Her smile widened, exposing perfect, white mortal teeth. “Aye, ye a doctor too?” Jeanie shook her head, sending tousled curls to fall in her face and on his shoulder. “As I said, I’m better than fine and I’m no about to get up from here t’ find out.�
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“Good, because I wouldn’t let you up,” he smiled, kissing the crown of her head.
A frisky sparkle set Jeanie’s eyes ablaze. “And how are ye?”
The expected question sent him into quiet contemplation. “I’m not sure,” he honestly replied. Jeanie propped herself up to stare with concern and confusion. “I am happy. Do not get me wrong. I am happier than I have been in such a very long time, and in a way I feel as if I really do not deserve it because of the danger I am. I could have easily lost control and killed you. I am afraid that maybe the next time I might. Gods! It was so hard to stop.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I want you, Jeanie. I have wanted this for such a long time – all my life it seems, and that is so very long. And now that I have finally – finally! – have it, I am suddenly afraid of having it. I also do not deserve this now, of all times, not while Notus is still in so much danger.”
Laying her head upon his smooth muscled chest, Jeanie fell silent at the fierce truth. The risks and the horror of the past few nights seemed so much like a dream. Fantastical by the unreality of the situations, Jeanie only now could begin to fully comprehend what she had stubbornly agreed to do, and how the Angel had tried to keep her in that illusion for her own good. But now that she had most of the truth, she needed to know more as she began to work out the pieces, trying to fit them together.
“Ye said earlier that the Good Father is the one who Made ye,” she murmured, “and that means he’s a va –, a Chosen too.” She felt him nod as he played with her hair. “Then who were the ones who took him? Why?”
If she could know about him and still be able to love him, she deserved to be told the rest. So Jeanie listened in silence as he told her about the Court and the Mistress who held Notus, as a tortured hostage, until he could find out how the Chosen were being poisoned and put a stop to it.
Jeanie was shocked to hear that if he failed it would mean Notus’ death as well, and she knew in her heart that must not be allowed to happen. She listened while he told her of the powder and its horrible effects, and that he and Fernando were following that line of logic in a hope that the powder would lead them to the source.