by Ava Walsh
Sebastien frowned. “You think it might be sexually transmitted?” he asked Kendra directly, but she shook her head. Whatever fear or awkwardness she had felt the night before, it had clearly taken a step back to professional curiosity, because she spoke without shying away or wasting time on carefully wording her replies. “I think it might be transmitted through bodily fluids, with blood being the most obvious carrier,” she told him. “Anais said that you were in charge of all non-medical research into the infection?” He nodded. “Good. I’d like to see the results of your investigations. It might help us narrow down the field and pinpoint the original source.”
“We’re actually following a new lead ourselves,” he told them then. “Alex is doing all the groundwork for the time being, but if anything definitive or new comes along, I’ll be sure to bring it to you right away.”
Anais nodded. “Hopefully, we’ll get to the bottom of this soon,” she said. “I’m sick and tired of watching my people die.” Unsaid went what Sebastien knew to be the biggest fear his sister had – the death of their father – but he chose not to bring it up. Anais still hadn’t had a chance to properly mourn the loss of her husband; he didn’t need to add to that burden.
“You should take Kendra to bed,” Anais suggested out of the blue, making both her brother and her assistant choke, but continuing as if she hadn’t noticed the shock on their faces. “She’s been working all day, but we have an even bigger load to deal with tomorrow, and needs to sleep.” She was acting all innocent and altruistic, but Sebastien recognized matchmaking when he saw it.
If it had been any other woman, he would’ve made some excuse and dashed off.
But for Kendra...
He looked over at her, waiting for her reply. “It’s still early... but, yeah, I probably should get some rest,” she said, but she didn’t wait for Sebastien. Instead, she walked over to one of the desks in the lab and picked up what looked to him like his first history book, and made her way out of the lab.
“Better hurry if you don’t want someone else to snatch her away,” Anais teased him, but rather than reply with his usual lightheartedness, Sebastien growled angrily at the thought of Kendra in another man’s arms, and rushed after her.
Chapter Seven
It didn’t take Sebastien too long to catch up with Kendra, and she felt a strange sort of satisfaction when she heard him trailing after her, his heavy steps growing louder as he approached her. It made her feel hunted, but rather than be afraid or repulsed by the thought, it excited her.
Clearly, this whole vampire thing was affecting her brain more than she would’ve thought possible... although, oddly, not more than she would’ve liked. It was a new and alluring feeling, and she was curious to explore where it could lead
She knew where she wanted it to lead her, though, and wondered if Sebastien felt the same. She did not know him, but she knew herself, and she recognized the signs that she was rapidly becoming interested in this man, this vampire, probably more so than would be wise. But she couldn’t help it. Every other moment, even when she was deep in her work, she would remember some reaction of his or something that he said, a trace of a kinder, gentler person that existed under the harsh exterior of the pure male he presented to the outside world. Oh, she had no doubt that this profound masculinity was as much a part of his personality as the loving brother Anais talked about or the caring son she had seen today in his father’s hospital suite, but where the alpha male attracted her on a deeply carnal level, it was the other, hidden part of him that made her think of Sebastien Roche as someone who might tempt her to wish for more than a wild clash of bodies in the night.
But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? He was not only a very handsome man, but the current de facto leader of his Clan and the future Clan King. She could see him taking her for a romp – she had caught him looking at her with lust in his eyes more than once – but she suspected he would choose someone with a better understanding of his world for his Queen.
Oh, well... she might as well enjoy what she could when she could, she decided, as they approached the door of her room. There were no guards there at the moment, and when the Day Guard had abandoned her at nightfall, no one else had come looking for her either.
“Not afraid I’ll run away anymore?” she asked Sebastien teasingly. He looked at her oddly for a moment, one of those looks that told her he was thinking but not what he was thinking about.
“Do you intend to run?” he asked her, instead of replying to her question, making her give him a bemused grin.
“No, I don’t. Not anymore,” she told him openly. “Things just started getting interesting around here and, to be perfectly honest, I’m growing too curious about your world for my own good.” She leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest, not failing to notice the flicker in his eyes as he glanced at her risen bosom. “And about you,” she added, more to see how he’d react than anything else.
Slowly, Sebastien laid his palms against the door, resting them just above her shoulders, and lowered his head to look her straight in the eyes. “And what’s so interesting about me?” he asked, daring her to take another step in this game, a game she couldn’t have imagined herself playing just the day before, but now felt like she would burn away if she didn’t bring to the finish line.
With a dare of her own, she returned his gaze with steady determination, brown eyes meeting amber in a battle of wills. “You are a very... contradictory man,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “One minute you’re driven and completely in command of yourself... another, you’re losing your temper... and yet another you turn all sweet and empathetic.” She smiled. “You’ve got just enough bad boy in you to make you fun, and just enough glimpses of good to make a woman daydream about how you’d change for her.”
He smirked. “Is that what you’re looking for? Someone to change? Someone to mold into your image of a perfect man?” he asked, almost sneering, and Kendra rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please... if I ever decide I wanna raise a perfect man, I’ll have a son.”
Every muscle on Sebastien’s body instantly tensed at that reply. “The only sons you’re going to raise will be mine,” he told her, with fierce conviction in his words, his eyes aflame. “The only daughters you’ll raise will be mine. Because you belong to me, Kendra Allenby. Me. No one else. Me.”
It didn’t feel right that such a possessive claim would make her insides melt for this man, and yet she could feel herself growing hotter by the second, her breath deepening, and her heartbeat quickening.
“I belong to me, Sebastien Roche,” she countered him as if laying down a law. “But if you’re a good boy, I might let you share.”
Suddenly, before she could realize what was going on, he’d pulled her off the door and into his arms, holding her close as his lips crashed onto hers, and she moaned at the contact, trembling, before kissing him back with all the passion that had gathered inside of her during the day with each and every random thought of him.
She heard him utter a low, rumbling sigh, and his hands slipped lower, down her back and under her bottom, grabbing her hard as he lifted her up as if she weighed but a fraction of her nearly 300 lbs. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. A kick to the door later and they were in her room. Another few steps and they landed on the bed together. They never stopped kissing, hungry for each other, and neither one ready to let go of the reigns. It should’ve been a turn-off, but Kendra found herself enjoying the contrast to her previous lovers. This would be a battle as much as lovemaking, and she intended to give as good as she got.
Mixed in with their moans were the sounds of clothes ripping as they frantically tried to get each other naked, throwing the garments away without looking or caring where they landed. In one moment, frustrated with his apparent inability to undo her bra, Sebastien swore and began to pull at it, making Kendra laugh heartily.
He stopped everything and looked at her, eyebrow cocked.
“The clasp’s in the front,” she replied, sniggering, and he laughed, a booming sound like a dam breaking inside him, full of joie de vivre, and so infectious she had to laugh with him.
Calming down, Sebastien locked eyes with her again and kissed her, a gentler, deeper kiss, but no less fierce in its passion. “Woman,” he murmured as he broke the kiss, lifting her up to rest against the pillows and undoing the clasp in one swift move. “You’ll be the death of me.” He slipped the bra to the sides and off her shoulders, throwing it back somewhere, and leaving her in nothing but delicate silk panties and thigh high stockings – a sight that, from the look on his face, he seemed to appreciate most ardently.
Propping himself up on his mighty arms, he lowered his head for another kiss on the lips. From there, he moved to her neck, nipping gently at the soft skin and letting her feel the scrape of his fangs as he traveled down to her clavicles and lower, between her breasts and to her navel, circling it with his tongue, which made her giggle, and then climbing back up. Straddling her hips, he sat up, his weight on his knees, and moved his hands to her breasts, the size of them too much for his palms to handle. He squeezed tight, making her moan loudly and her hips roll seemingly of their own volition and lowered his mouth to suck in one puckered nipple, dark like cholate and, to him, just as sweet. He rolled the sensitive nub in his mouth, his tongue teasing the tip of it. Kendra mewled, reaching out for him, laying her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging deep into the hard muscle.
He hissed and let go of her breasts, letting them spill out, but kept kissing the lovely generous mounds, taking every sign of pleasure as a reward. His right hand slid down her round, soft stomach until it reached the waistband of her panties, and then he pulled them down, slipping the undergarment down her hips and off her legs. He moved his body lower, nudging her to open her legs for him with his knees, and when she did, he nestled himself between her thick thighs, kissing the trembling inner side from the knee down, until he reached his prize, and dived in.
Chapter Eight
Sebastien could not remember if anything he’d ever tasted had been as sweet on his tongue as Kendra was when he caressed the slick, silky folds of her most intimate area. With his fingers, he spread her gently to give himself better access and took his time savoring her, her moans and sighs and the desperate way she clutched his head serving only to heighten his own desire. When he felt he tantalized her enough, he found the tight little button of her clit, and worked it well, the tip of his tongue lashing out on it as he used everything he’d ever learned about pleasing a woman with his tongue to draw her to the cusp of ecstasy. He could feel her closing in on her orgasm, the first of the many he intended to give her from this moment on, and when she cried out, he left her nether lips, his fangs extending with a hungry hiss before he sunk them into her femoral artery.
The blood kiss was a wonderful thing when done right, and Sebastien knew well how to use it to enhance a woman’s orgasm. Her held Kendra’s thigh tight to his lips, drinking her blood in soft, suckling sips while she shook on the bed, the force of the new sensation shocking her into new and unexpected heights. He could feel her muscles flutter as the pleasure shot lightning through her, and only stopped feeding when her body finally calmed and her breath evened.
He pulled away slowly and licked at the small puncture marks on her skin, the enzymes in his saliva closing the little openings almost instantly. He’d expected her to let him mount her then, pliant and sweet for him from the orgasm, but he’d underestimated his beloved. She was not a woman content with laying back and letting him do all the work. Oh, no. She was a conqueror, his Amazon queen, and the second he rose to lay another kiss to her lips, she tackled him, forcing him onto his back without breaking the kiss, and climbed on top of him.
“You’re right,” she purred as she straddled his hips and reached for the thick, taut length of him, caressing it, running her hand up and down a few times before she positioned the head of his spear at her entrance, soft and dripping wet. “I will be the death of you,” she said, teasing, and in one strong push, let him slip all the way inside of her.
She cried out, and he with her, trembling at the intimacy of the sensation. It shot a blaze of pleasure straight down his spine, and he grabbed on to her hips, urging her to move.
And, when she finally did, it was glorious.
Without raising from him, Kendra rolled her hips in small, wide circles, like a belly dancer at the beginning of her act. Her back arched up straight, her head falling back a little, and her hands rested on the taut muscles of his stomach as she moved on top of him. Sebastien could not stop looking at her. Did he think her beautiful before? He was wrong, so wrong, and only now did he realize what true beauty was. Kendra was a force of nature, a power in her own right. He finally understood what she’d been telling him tonight. In this bed, she might belong to him – but he would never own her, never control her... and he recognized that, for all the primal, possessive force of his hunger, he didn’t want to.
It would be a crime to dim this bright flame, and he knew he was man enough to take her as she was, fierce and independent, and love her more, not less for it, unthreatened by the strength of her will.
Yes, she was his, he thought in the last moments of lucid thought, which slipped away as Kendra picked up speed, moving faster and faster on top of him. She was his... and he was hers.
And that was how it should be.
He could feel her orgasm coming again, the gentle pull and squeeze around his member that grew quicker, stronger, synched perfectly with each begging cry that fell out of Kendra’s lips as she moved her hips, riding him fast and hard, and when she screamed his name again, Sebastien finally lost it, lost himself, calling out for her as he spilled his seed into her, his entire body trembling like a plucked string, the pleasure shattering him to his very core.
Limp and exhausted, Kendra fell over his torso, and he pulled her into a warm, soft embrace, letting her rest on top of him and catch her breath.
“You know,” he teased her, “A man could get used to this petite mort.” She chuckled, having no energy left to say or do anything else.
But that was all right. She didn’t need to do anything anymore, not tonight.
Now she had him to be strong for her when she needed.
For the next few days, Sebastien spent his time between complete focus on his work and heavenly bliss in his bed. Now that he knew Kendra and he would always be there for each other when they needed it, the desperate need that hounded him earlier no longer bothered him, allowing him to concentrate on whatever task he had at hand.
Each nightfall, before he’d go about his business and Kendra’d go to sleep, they spent some time making love, learning each other, and talking about the things that had happened to her during the day. He would spend some time teaching her about his culture and customs, familiarizing her with his people. Kendra, in turn, began setting her alarm to about two hours before sunrise, and they’d share a meal, talk about how his night went, and end up making love against each time, falling asleep holding each other tight. Kendra would wake up again later in the morning and resume her work with Anais, and though the sporadic new sleeping schedule took a toll on her, she brushed it off as a temporary inconvenience.
“It’ll get better once the Great Gathering is over and done with,” she’d tell him, and he knew she was right.
Because, to their shock and relief, they had finally found out the cause of the disease.
It happened but a day before the guests would begin to arrive. The night had barely fallen and he’d awakened early, as usual, only to see Kendra sitting on the bed next to him, her hair unkempt and her face tired but ecstatic.
“It’s genetic,” she told him, each word heavy with enthusiasm. “It’s artificial and genetic.”
It took Sebastien, still woozy from sleep, a few moments to realize what she was talking about... and, when he
did, the realization hit him like a hammer to the head. “Are you telling me someone actually designed this goddamned thing specifically for us?” he demanded, his tone harsh, but where a lesser woman would turn defensive, thinking he was blaming the messenger for the bad news, she took it as it was – disgust at the orchestrator of the tragedy – and simply continued.
“Not you,” she said, “We ran the tests all day, and the same sequence of alleles kept repeating over and over again, so we cross-referenced all the names in the lab results and in Beauchamp’s reports... and guess what?” Eyes wide, she grinned victoriously. “All of the victims had one of the slaves your mother brought with her when she ran off to marry your father in their ancestry.”
Now that was news.
As he quickly got dressed, Kendra told him all about their findings. They could not pinpoint the exact moment of the original infection, but because several of the infected remembering seeing odd, shallow cuts that took a little longer to heal than they should have after that night at last year’s Gathering, they suspected that Sebastien’s first instinct was right. It seemed likely the Mississippi Clan engineered what was pretty much a genetic time bomb and, after their offer of marital alliance was rejected, purposefully infected as many people from the Louisiana clan as they could as revenge for every sin they felt Sebastien’s Clan and his family had committed against them.
“I don’t know if it was a design flaw,” Kendra explained, “Or if they made the disease require a specific set of circumstances to prevent it from spreading too fast and revealing their trap too soon, but the disease needed both the person who drank the blood and the donor to share those specific recessive genes in order to activate.” Her brow furrowed a bit. “It was a monstrous thing to do... but, also... kind of brilliant,” she admitted, though she clearly felt morally conflicted about admiring something so foul.
“It is,” he nodded. “Both of those things.” He knew she was not looking for his approval, but also that she wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about understanding the kind of talent and hard work it took to devise such a scheme if he showed her that he understood it too.
