by Trisha Telep
Another wash of quivering release shook her body, shuddering through him, as she cried out, her nails scraping harder, drawing blood from his back.
A deep rasping growl built at the back of his throat, and he drew back his hips and lunged forwards, powering into her now, sliding through her tightening channel, churning in the cream that slid around him, until, at last, he threw back his head and roared.
Viper didn’t know how long he lay atop her, his body racked by fine tremors as the beast eased away, sliding back into his cavern. But he came to awareness with her hands gliding over his skin, cupping his shoulders, petting his hair, sliding along his slick back as she hiccupped beneath him.
She was crying.
Slipping his hands beneath her, he rolled onto his back, bringing her over him. He cupped the back of her head and urged her face into the crook of his neck. His lips brushed her crown once, then he settled beneath her, waiting for her tears to dry while he held her close.
“I remember everything,” she whispered.
“I wish you didn’t,” he said tonelessly.
“How cruel is that?” she bit out, lifting her head to glare into his face. “You took everything from me.”
“I wanted you safe.”
The corners of her lips turned downwards. “I understand why you did it, but how do you bear it? Knowing what we had?”
Viper swallowed and slipped his hands around her back to hug her closer. “I get through every single day,” he said, his voice roughening, “because I know you’re nearby. I know you live. And that’s enough.”
Her head shook slowly. “Will you leave me again without even a glimpse of our past?”
The rasp in her voice scraped him raw. “I . . . have to.”
She snorted, her mouth stretching into a sad jeer. “This is why I can’t move on, you know. Something inside me knows about you.”
Move on? He closed his eyes, praying for the strength. “I can take that as well.” He opened his eyes to meet her steady gaze. “I can free you.”
“You’d let me take another lover? Another husband?”
While inside he wailed and thrashed, he schooled his face into a mask. “I want you happy. Safe.”
She laid her head on his shoulder and rubbed her cheek against him. “It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”
Hoping she’d given up and had decided not to rant as she had the last time he’d sought her out, he exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get you anything.”
Her fingers plucked his chest hairs hard. “There are other choices you know,” she said, her voice hardening. “Ones I should have the free will to make.”
“You can’t come with me.”
“Because it’s too dangerous? I remember that. You shoved me out the door of the warehouse, out into the street, while you stayed inside.”
“I saved your life.”
“You sacrificed ours. You didn’t have the right to make that decision alone.”
“Well it’s done now. No going back.”
“Except you do – keep coming back, that is.”
“So I’m weak.”
Her fingers relaxed, and she lifted her head. “You could let me come with you.”
The plea in her brown eyes nearly had him relenting. “You can’t come with me,” he repeated dully. “I don’t want you to see what I’ve become, how I live.”
“You’re a vampire.” She pressed her face into his chest. “God they really do exist. I kept thinking there was something more . . .”
“That Goth club isn’t just a place for the wannabes. Vamps feed there. Not all of them are nice. You shouldn’t have gone there.”
“Why can’t you just make me one, too? Let me stay with you.”
“Turning is too dangerous. As many die as make the change. I won’t risk you.”
“Don’t I even get a say?”
“Mariah . . .” He lifted her head, forcing her to meet his gaze. How could he make her understand? “Dying isn’t the worst thing that can happen.”
Her eyes and nose were red now, her face wet with smeared tears. “Then explain it. Make me understand how you could just abandon me.”
His thumbs wiped away the tears, then he slipped his hands beneath her arms and pulled her higher until her face hovered just above his. “Your soul could slip away, not make the journey. If that happened, I’d have to kill you.” He forced himself to finish it, despite the jagged edge entering his voice, despite the burning at the back of his throat. “I just. . . can’t.” Tears landed on his cheeks.
“I remember the day you disappeared. I thought I saw you outside. On the sidewalk.”
“I had been attacked, turned. Bloodlust overcame me. I had just enough sense left to know I couldn’t come to you. I would have devoured you.”
“Where did you go?”
“To a den. An orgy. Blood in buckets. I sated myself, then got sicker than a dog.”
“What about women? Has there been anyone else?”
Although he knew the answer would hurt her, he wouldn’t lie. “No one that mattered.”
Her eyes closed.
“Bloodlust, sexual lust. They’re both primal hungers and have to be fed or we get crazy. Even the most devoted lovers have to feed outside their relationship.”
She sniffed and wiped a hand across her face. “I don’t know if I could do that. Let you be with someone else.”
“Do you see why I left? Why I didn’t seek you out?”
“You couldn’t have broken it off? Left me something, if only my memories?”
“I was afraid you would try to find me. That you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
Her eyes narrowed. Then a small, tight smile curved her lips. “Again, you think you’re so irresistible?”
He lifted one brow. “Aren’t I? To you?”
Wry humour gleamed in her eyes. “You had me here in this bed inside a half hour. I guess you’re right.” She released a deep sigh. “Danny, what happens now?”
“We have a little time left before I have to get back.”
“How will you do it? Make me forget?”
“I’ll kiss you. When I leave you won’t remember me at all.”
“Danny . . .”
“Yes?”
“You’ve come to me before, haven’t you? Like this. I don’t want you to free me. If this is all we have, just these few hours of . . . connection. I accept it.”
“It’s not fair to you.”
“How would you feel, knowing I’m in this world, but not waiting for you?”
She wasn’t thinking about herself. The thought nearly made him weep. “I’d be in hell,” he muttered. “But I’m willing to let you go. I want you happy.”
“I’m not unhappy. Just . . . asexual. And I don’t miss it. I don’t even know I shouldn’t feel that way. I want this again. With you. Please.”
“All right,” he said gruffly, his throat tightening.
Her head canted. “Have you offered me this choice before?”
“Yes.”
Her eyebrows rose and a small grin stretched her lips. “It’s good to know I’m consistent. Are you still a cop?”
“I work undercover,” he hedged. How could he explain he ran one of those vampire dens now, rolled around in bed most nights with willing blood hosts and pretended to befriend the most vicious of the undead? Even if it was a just cause? “You done crying?”
“I don’t want to waste our time together crying, but I do have one more question. Where’s my wedding ring?”
Viper sighed and untangled himself from her body. He rolled off the bed and reached for his jeans. He drew out his wallet, slipped his fingers into a narrow pocket and pulled out the gleaming circle of gold.
When he turned, she lifted her hand and waited while he slid it onto her finger. He curled her fingers and raised her hand to his lips, giving it a kiss. Tears gleamed in her eyes, but she smiled and opened her arms. He climbed over her, stretching his body to cover every
part of her.
“Was it the bite? Is that how I remembered you?”
He nodded as he tenderly brushed the hair from her cheeks. “I can’t seem to resist that part.”
“Don’t ever come to me without letting me see.”
“I promise.”
“Make love to me again.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. But if you want, I can just hold you.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You were never a snuggler.”
“I’ve matured,” he scoffed, feigning a lightness of heart he just couldn’t feel. “I’m content just to touch you.”
“Well I’m not,” She pulled him closer and opened her legs. “Leave me aching. I’ll wonder about it in the morning. I’ll think I dreamed it all.”
He bent down and kissed her, not wanting to think about leaving her again.
This time, urgency didn’t drive him. He took his time, entering her so slowly she complained, lifting her hips to force him deeper.
Their loving was slow, savoured, poignant, because this time they both remembered the many times they’d been here, holding each other tightly. Their kisses were all the sweeter because they knew they’d have to make them matter.
He held back, thrusting faster, harder. Sliding a hand between their bodies, he caressed the tiny knot of nerves that shot her ahead of him, so that he could watch her come.
As her mouth opened around a quiet scream, he let go, joining her, groaning deeply as his body and heart emptied into her.
Viper waited until her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze met his for the last time. Her smile said she forgave him, and she touched his cheek.
The kiss wasn’t needed, but he wanted her to close her eyes. He closed his as he stole one memory after another, letting them flicker through his mind.
Their first meeting at the station house where she tried to prise information about a drug arrest. She’d spotted him and become distracted enough that the exasperated PR officer slipped away. The first time they’d made love. A frenzied, delirious coupling in the front seat of his car when he’d tried to play the gentleman and drop her at her door after their first date. Fishing on a borrowed boat. Only they hadn’t caught a single thing, except raging sunburn in intimate places.
Their wedding. Mariah dressed in white and beaming as she’d stood in front of the Justice of the Peace and repeated her vows in an excited rush, eager fro the pronouncement that would make her his for ever.
When at last he’d finished, he sobbed once, kissed her closed eyes and slipped from the bed.
Lieutenant Moses Brown waited outside, his large frame leaning against his unmarked car. When he saw Viper, he straightened and flicked away his cigarette. “Thought I might find you here. Need a ride back?”
Viper slid into the passenger seat, keeping his face turned straight ahead. Not looking back.
“Did you let her go this time buddy?”
Viper nodded.
“It’s for the best. The girl can get on with her life.”
“I know.”
“We have work to do. With Navarro gone, the natives are getting restless. They think the territory’s up for grabs.”
“Guess I’ll have to make a play for it, won’t I?”
“Damn shame about the missus.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand. You sure you didn’t leave any clues? Nothing she might use to connect the dots this time?”
“I wiped her mind of everything. I’m sure.” Feeling drained, he leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes.
Then he remembered. The ring. He hadn’t removed it from her finger.
He jerked upright.
“You OK? You forgot something?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell his friend to turn round. Instead, he relaxed. Maybe she’d wake up, find the ring and wonder, but without the memories to accompany it, could she really find him?
The tantalizing thought was just enough to ease him past the sadness he thought he couldn’t bear. Maybe, this time, she’d find him.
It was enough. A wisp of hope to hold on to. Feeling lighter, he rolled down the window and let the soft, salt breeze whisk away his dour mood. “So, about these natives, Moses. We talking fangs?”
Dreams
Keri Arthur
In the dreams they shared, there was always desire.
It was the slip of a hand across silky, golden skin. The sigh of quick breath past the lips he always longed to kiss, both in these dreams and in life.
The way she thrust back her head and moaned as he caressed her breasts, the gleam of her red hair under the candlelit warmth that always seemed to encase these moments between wakefulness. Whether that light was by her design or his didn’t really matter because all that did matter was the two of them.
And these precious moments of intimacy.
The dream went on. He watched the rapid beat of the pulse at her neck. Could almost smell the thick sweetness of the blood that ran underneath her skin. Blood he ached to roll across his taste buds yet again.
She moaned his name, a sound sweeter than life itself. He reached for her, pulling her spirit towards him, wrapping his own around her. Claiming her with a completeness that she would never allow in wakefulness.
But she was his in a way she would probably never understand. He might one day be forced to walk away, but he could never let her go completely. She was a part of him. He’d shared his blood with her and tasted her soul, and there was no turning away from the consequences of that. Not for one such as him – a creature who was more myth and magic than darkness.
He was something that should not be, even in this age of vampire rights and human acknowledgment – if not complete acceptance – that the things that went bump in the night were very real indeed.
But for now, there were just the two of them and this dream. It was everything and nothing, and it would do until they met again in the flesh.
Which would be soon. They’d been apart for too long mow.
So he kissed her, caressed her, loved her, until the heat that rose between them would not be denied. And then he took her, their dream bodies merging, hot phantom flesh against hot phantom flesh – desperate, hungry and demanding.
The intensity, the desire, rose to even greater heights, until they were shaking with the need of completion. And as she came he bit her, sinking his teeth into her imaginary flesh, into her vein, until both her blood and her being rushed into his mouth. And it was so sweet, so rapturous a sensation, that he came, his body thrusting against hers urgently, as needful as she.
But however sweet the dreams, their aftermath was always sour. Because there was no lying in the sweaty heat of each other’s arms. No holding her sated body until sleep claimed them both. No savouring the delicious rush of warmth through his body that her blood always provided.
There was nothing more than a fading into blackness, until the feeling of utter loneliness once again filled the void of his world.
He sighed and opened his eyes. The pleasure he’d shared in the dream still assuaged his body, and his heart beat with more vigour than usual, though it was nowhere near that of a human in normal circumstances, let alone after lovemaking. And yet he felt incomplete. The dreams were good, but he wanted more. Wanted her, for real, in the flesh.
Up ahead, the lights of Melbourne twinkled, neon bright against the clear darkness of the night. He hadn’t actually come down here to see Riley Jenson. Indeed, given how angry she’d been after his ultimatum that she either include him in her life willingly or he’d force her compliance, he’d pretty much figured he’d better let sleeping dogs lie for a while. And given she was a werewolf that was no mere figure of speech. As bitches went, she could be pretty damn ornery when she wanted to be.
And yet the very thing that annoyed him the most was the same thing that pulled him towards her – her vitality, her strength, her independence.
He wanted that tonigh
t. Wanted her.
He leaned forwards and pressed the button that lowered the screen between him and the limo’s driver. “Henry, there’s been a change of plans. Head for Ms Jenson’s address first.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver’s voice was polite and unfazed. But then Henry had been working for him for several hundred years now. The unexpected had become somewhat commonplace.
The streets slid by smoothly and his anticipation grew. Odd that after all these years a mere pup could have him feeling so alive again – even if she did also frustrate the hell out of him with her werewolf morals and free-and-easy ways.
But he had every intention of changing that. Eventually. He was not fool enough to think such a thing would happen overnight, however much he might wish otherwise.
The limo came to a halt outside the dour brick building that was her home. He looked up, seeing no lights shining from the top-floor windows. She was still asleep, then.
He fought the images of sliding naked into bed beside her, of caressing her flesh for real and not just in dreams, and climbed out as Henry opened the door. “Go to the hotel and get some rest,” he said, breathing in the cool night air, letting the heat and life of those within the building flow through him. “I’ll call when I need you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He smiled at Henry’s formality, then walked up the grimy concrete steps and went through the door. This building was rarely locked, the inhabitants apparently unconcerned about the drug-related crimes that abounded in this area. Odd considering the only ones truly capable of protecting themselves in this building were Riley and her brother.
He climbed the stairs rapidly, making little sound. The thick heat of life swam all around him, the melodious beat of blood through human flesh, such a wonderfully haunting sound.
He reached the top floor and opened the stairwell door. A solitary globe gleamed forlornly down the far end, leaving the rest of the hall in shadows and darkness. His friend, this darkness, and Riley’s. Perhaps that was why she never insisted that maintenance replace all the broken lights. As a part vampire, she could hide in the shadows as well as he.
