by J. K. Beck
Serge pulled the car into her driveway and killed the engine.
“Thanks,” she said. “For the ride.”
“You realize that I’m coming in with you, right?”
“It’s not necessary. No one knows I’ve been released, remember?”
She was right. Luke had arranged things so that she was transferred from FBI to Homeland jurisdiction. As far as anyone knew, she was still incarcerated, and they intended to keep it that way until Derrick was no longer a threat.
“Even so,” he said. “I feel better playing it safe. Okay?”
She didn’t protest, and for that Serge was grateful. He wanted as much time with her as possible, even if it was just sitting together sharing the same air.
“Maybe we could watch a movie. Or something.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “But I can think of something I’d rather do than the movie.”
“Serge …” Pain and regret fueled her voice, but the scent of desire filled the car. Perversely, he was glad of it, even though he knew that the desire only brought her pain.
“No,” he said quickly. “Not that. I want you to train. You’re excellent in the field, but you can be better.”
“I’ll never be as good as you. I don’t have the ‘vampire’ advantage.”
“No, and that worries me. I want you to be as strong as possible.”
“Well, I have a weight room. I work out.”
“There’s another way to make you stronger. My blood, Alexis.”
He saw the color rise in her cheeks and her throat move as she swallowed. “Right. But I already have that.”
“A bit, but it’s fading. I used the connection to track you to the alley the other night, and it was already a very thin thread. Am I wrong? Can’t you feel that the strength I gave you is starting to wane?”
“Yes. A bit.”
“Then let me do this for you. Let me make you stronger. You’re walking into this world, Alexis. Let me give you the tools you’ll need to survive.”
“I don’t know.”
“Alexis, please. What if you’re taken? What if I need to find you?” He reached for her hand, gratified when she let him take it, and losing himself in the heat that was always there between them. “The blood connection isn’t foolproof—certain herbs and metals can block the effect—but it’s better than nothing. And the thought of losing you is more torturous than all of my battles with the daemon and the beast.”
“I—all right.”
The relief that washed over him was palpable. It wasn’t a cure-all, of course, but it would help. And it had the added, selfish benefit of being a tangible connection to her, something he still desperately craved, but knew that he could only have in tiny, stolen quantities.
And then, before she could change his mind, he lifted his wrist to his mouth, bit down to break the skin, and extended it to her. “Drink,” he said.
Her eyes flickered up to him, and he saw both longing and determination in her expression. Then she bent her head and drank deep, her mouth hot on his flesh, their bodies melding as the blood connection grew.
He could feel his blood inside her, could smell her desire. She wanted him, there was no denying it now. And the deeper she drank, the more intense her craving became. A bittersweet need that she refused to fulfill. And so he kept the blood flowing, let her drink her fill, because right then, it was all they could have of each other, even though Serge knew that for him it would never, ever be enough.
The woman, Alexis, was out of their hair and as far as Jonathan was concerned, that was a very good thing. He may have suggested to Derrick that they leave Los Angeles, but he really didn’t want to. With the bitch gone, though, things were getting back to business as usual, and the message of the League was spreading.
Even though he knew damn well that she was locked up, he still kept an eye on her house. Not every day. Not like a stakeout. But often enough. Just in case.
It was dull work, and he tried to mix it up. Some days he just drove by and sniffed the air to search for a hint of life within. Other days he watched the house, afraid to trust his nose in a neighborhood where so many human scents commingled.
Sometimes he came at night, watching the house from the car or the roof of a neighboring home. Tonight, he’d been bored enough to shift into bird form and perch in a tree in the girl’s front yard.
And it was a good thing, too.
Because tonight he saw her. And not just her, but a male, tall and muscled, with a hard, familiar face and eyes that looked like they’d seen everything. Jonathan couldn’t catch the male’s scent while he was in bird form, and he couldn’t transform without being seen. Just from looking, he couldn’t tell if the male was human or vampire or something else. Since the woman was human, he assumed the man was, too. But there was something so familiar about him, and he couldn’t imagine why a human would affect him in that way. Unless he was feeding, he really had no more use for the creatures.
That face.
That jawline.
Those piercing gray eyes.
Shit. The sketch. That was the face from the sketch.
Which meant that he was looking at Sergius, and the vampire—the badass, kill-everyone-around, Derrick-sees-him-as-an-equal vampire—was hanging out in a car with a human female.
Jonathan watched for a minute longer, because maybe Sergius was playing a game?
But no. Because as Jonathan watched, the woman’s mouth closed over Serge’s wrist. Serge tilted his head back, and Jonathan frowned, intrigued. Because Jonathan knew real passion when he saw it. And what he saw right then was pretty damn interesting.
“Higher,” Serge said, as she leaned to the side and thrust her leg up and out, slamming him hard in the gut. “Excellent,” he said. “You’re feeling it already.”
“I could fight a thousand vampires,” she said, truthfully. She’d hesitated when he’d offered his blood, not because she didn’t want the extra strength, but because she knew how hard it would be to have Serge in her head. And it was hard. But as long as she focused on the training, she could forget how much she wanted him. How deeply her blood burned with desire.
“We should take a break. We’ve been going at it for five hours straight.”
“I can go longer.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you can.” He grabbed a towel from a basket and hung it around his neck. “But we’ve been working all night, and you need sleep. For that matter, I could use some, too.”
“Oh. Right. So, I guess you can take the guest room. It has blackout shades so you don’t have to worry about the sun.”
He looked at her for a moment, his expression suggesting that he had something to say. He didn’t, though. Just said a quick good night and left her holding her own towel and fighting the urge to run after him.
It’s the blood talking. That’s all. The blood.
But she knew that wasn’t it at all. Instead, it was the man.
She considered calling Leena, but she hadn’t talked to her since she’d made her one phone call after her arrest. After that, things had moved too quickly. Luke had come, she’d agreed to work for the PEC, she’d been released from the FBI and processed as a prisoner at Division 6, just to keep up appearances. After that, she’d gone with Luke to his house, and now she was home with Serge. It would be exhausting to cover that much ground in one call. Maybe they could get together tomorrow. Today, Alexis was fighting her own demons by herself.
The house was quiet, but she could tell she wasn’t alone. Serge’s presence seemed to fill the place up so much that there was no escape. Everywhere she went was him. Everything she saw was him.
And the truth was, it felt right that he was in the house. That realization scared her, but there was no escaping it. He was her partner now, but that word meant so many things. Her colleague. Her mate. Her love.
Yes, my love.
“Tori, what have I done?”
She’d been clinging so desperately to her lost family th
at she’d been blind to the fact that a new one was springing up around her. Leena, Edgar, even CeeCee and Luke and Sara.
And Serge. Most of all Serge.
She loved him, and staying away from him was only hurting them both.
She pressed her hand against the wall and closed her eyes. She’d made a mistake. A huge one.
Now she had to decide exactly what she was going to do about it.
Serge tried to sleep, but thoughts of Alexis kept intruding. They’d trained hard, working closely, their bodies sweating, touching. He’d wanted more, and it had taken all of his willpower not to throw her down on the mat. Not to run his hands over her soft curves and trail kisses up her neck.
Even now, it required superhuman strength for him to stay in this room when all he wanted to do was to step into the hall and search for her and hold her close.
He couldn’t, though. Because even though he could feel her desire for him in the blood that connected them, she’d made her choice, and now they both had to live with the hell of it. He could shoulder that burden, but it pained him that Alexis would suffer for his mistake, too. And that knowledge made the weight of his regret that much heavier.
He shifted in the bed, imagining she was there. That her soft scent was filling the room. That her sweet voice was whispering to him.
There was no voice, of course, but after a moment of blissful imagination, he realized that the scent was real. She was nearby, and even as he turned his head toward the door, he saw the knob turn and Alexis step inside. She paused in the doorway, silhouetted in the ambient light.
His whole body went tense with an electric combination of hope and fear. “Why are you here?” It came out a whisper, and he held his breath as he waited for the kick in the gut that would surely come in response.
In the silence that followed, he could hear the beating of her heart, followed by her soft, almost whispered reply: “Because I love you.”
Those four simple words hit him harder than any blow in a fight. “Alexis.” It was the only word he could manage, and it came out ragged.
She moved to him, sliding onto the bed beside him. Somehow, he forced his body to function, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close. She clung to him, her lips on his neck, his cheek, then closing over his mouth and claiming him. “I missed you,” she said, when she finally pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so, sorry.”
Her smile was a little sad, but her eyes held no reproach. “That’s all in the past.” She cupped his cheek with her hand. “And I’m the one who’s sorry. I was trying so hard to protect the memory of the sister I loved that I almost lost the man I love.”
“You could never lose me.”
“I swear I won’t ever try again.”
He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent if only to assure himself that she was real.
“Kiss me, Serge,” she begged. “Kiss me hard. We can go slow later. Right now, I just have to have you. I have to know that this is real.”
“It’s real,” he promised, more than happy to satisfy her demand. With their need taking precedence, they tore at each other’s clothes without a thought about rips and buttons or any of that nonsense. Their mouths met, hers hot and furious and demanding. “Do you know what you do to me?”
Her smile was mischievous. “I have some idea.”
“I need you, Alexis. I’ve always needed you, and I didn’t even know it.”
“Serge.” She pulled herself up, pressing her mouth to his. Then she rolled over, forcing him onto his back, her fingers twined into his hair as she held his head in place. Her mouth crushed his, claiming him, her tongue hot and her taste sweet.
He was hard, so damn hard, and when she shifted her hips and lowered herself onto him it was a miracle he didn’t explode right then. They moved together, lights on and eyes open, never breaking their gaze, never losing that connection. He felt her climax approaching at the same time as he saw it reflected on her face. A glassiness in her eyes, a parting of her lips. The muscles around his cock tightened, teasing him, bringing him over the edge with her, until they both burst open with an exultant cry and she collapsed upon him, her body so soft, her scent so very sweet.
He pulled her close, the possibility of breaking contact unthinkable. Then he rolled her onto her back and proceeded to make love to her again, this time slow, so slow, until he thought the both of them would die from the agony of anticipation.
Afterward, she fell asleep in his arms, and he spent the next few hours watching her, thinking that somewhere along the way he really must have paid the price for his crimes. How else could he deserve something so precious as Alexis?
Alexis woke up feeling wonderful, except for the fuzzy head and sharp pain that seemed to get her right behind the eyes.
“Hey,” Serge said, brushing a kiss over her lips.
“Good morning.”
“Is it morning?”
“For me it is. The sun’s been down for about two hours now. I thought we could get in one more training day. Tomorrow night I’ll see if I can’t track down Derrick. I think the Z Bar is the place to start.” He slid his palm up her bare thigh. “Then again, I can think of ways to get a workout that don’t involve training.”
She curled her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Sounds wonderful,” she said, but she couldn’t help wincing as he moved, shifting their position on the pillow.
Immediately, he pulled back, concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve just got a headache.” She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “A nasty one.”
“What can I get you?”
“A couple of aspirin, maybe.”
He had them for her in under a minute. “Anything else?” He reached for her and she took his hand and squeezed.
“You have a good bedside manner, Dr. Serge.” The image of Serge as a doctor amused her, and she laughed, which was a mistake, as it brought the headache back in full force. “I don’t think this is anywhere near as bad as Leena’s migraines,” she said. “Suddenly, I’m boatloads more sympathetic. I’m sorry,” she added, lying back against the pillows and closing her eyes. “I’m going to be useless to you for a while.”
“Just rest. We can train tomorrow. And there’s no reason we can’t bump the schedule up. I’ll go see Derrick today.”
Alarmed, she opened her eyes. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Might as well go sooner rather than later, and it’s not as if we’re missing out on anything. You weren’t going to go with me anyway, remember? But I do think I should take you to Luke’s before I go.”
“Luke’s? You mean because of Derrick?” She shook her head. “You’re being paranoid. Even if he has spies at the PEC, all the paperwork says I’m locked up tight. And you’re going to be gone what? Maybe two hours, max? You’re just going to talk to him, right? Reconnect?”
He nodded, but she could tell he didn’t like it.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Seriously.” She reached for her phone. “I’ll even call Leena and see if she can come over.”
“Do that,” he said.
She rolled her eyes but dialed, then left a message for Leena to call her when she got her friend’s voice mail. “She’ll call back, and I’ll invite her over. But she won’t even need to come, because you’ll be back.” She looked hard at him. “You’re not really worried, are you?”
After a moment, he shook his head. “I think I’ll always worry about you. But like you said, you don’t even exist right now outside a jail cell.”
“See? There you go.”
“One hour,” he said.
“Good. I’ll nap. And I’ll be refreshed when you come back.” She wasn’t sure she would. Her head was starting to pound even more.
“I love you,” he said, and the words curled around her, warm and soft like a blanket.
�
��That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Now go fight the bad guys. And by the way,” she added as he stepped toward the door. “I love you, too.”
As soon as he was gone, she settled back against the pillows again. She couldn’t help her smile even though the tug of muscles on her face was making her head feel worse. She hoped she was right and that it would pass by the time he got back, but she was afraid she’d been sorely mistaken. Now her stomach had jumped on the illness bandwagon, but her head was pounding so hard she didn’t want to get up to go track down some antacids. Instead, she curled up in a ball, staying that way even when she heard Serge’s footsteps in the hall.
“Did you forget something?”
He didn’t answer, but a second later she heard the door open. She shifted, tilting her head back to look at him and reassure him that she was still doing okay.
Except it wasn’t Serge who was staring down at her.
She rolled off the bed, going for the gun she kept on her bedside table, but he was beside her in a flash holding down her arm. She fought, but her pounding head was a disadvantage, and in no time he’d overpowered her.
“Hello, Alexis. I’m Jonathan. And I have a friend who’s dying to meet you.”
She only had time to scream Serge’s name once, but she knew it would do no good. He wasn’t in the house, and Jonathan was moving too fast. Her scream was still hanging in the air when the vampire grabbed her in his arms, transformed into mist, and the world dissolved around Alexis.
Heads turned and whispers filled the room when Serge walked into the Z Bar. He glanced around, his gaze finally landing on the woman behind the bar. She had pudgy cheeks and a tiny nose, giving her a face that resembled a hamster. “I’m looking for Derrick,” he said. “I’m Sergius.”
Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, then she stuck out her hand. He ignored it, and after a moment, she withdrew her fingers, then wiped them on her apron. “I’m Vivian Clamdale,” she said. “This is my place.”
