The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

by Marianne Morea

  “Whatever.” She made a face at his double meaning.

  He waved goodbye before crossing the street and heading toward the river. “Give my regards to Sébastien.”

  She watched him disappear around the corner. “Let it ride? Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

  Standing alone, she glanced at the window again and shook her head. “Ridiculous fetish. If they only knew.”

  Abigail turned on her heel to go, but stopped and looked back at the dildo. “—and the proportions are all wrong.” Shoving her purse onto her shoulder she did an about-face and went into the store.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled, shaking her head at the large prototype on the display table.

  Surrounding the promo sample were the actual sex toys, advertised as inspired by a fictional werewolf’s erection. Abigail ran her hand over the sample, the synthetic flesh strange beneath her fingertips. Its feel completely unlike the remembered boy in her mind or the electric reality of Dash’s arm against her breast.

  She stood, chewing the inside of her lip, her fangs tingling. “What the hell,” she muttered and grabbed an unopen box.

  6

  Abigail locked the door to Sébastien’s suite. The vampire council kept rooms behind the club, should the need arise, with easy access to any and all backroom play at the Red Veil.

  It was their Les Sanctuaire, but with Sébastien away, it became her private haven. Bette was the only other person with a key, and she was currently holed up with Gehrig.

  The elegant vampire dropped the adult novelty non-descript plastic bag on the couch and took off her coat.

  Dash’s scent lingered on her clothes, and his natural fragrance hit her like a punch to the gut. Not to mention his words. Hot, raw and sexy as hell. Just like him. Ugh. A hot bath and some essential oils were exactly what she needed to free herself from its hold. From his hold.

  Stripping, she dropped her clothes in a line on the way to the bathroom and turned on the tap, letting the hot water gather in the deep cast iron clawed-foot tub.

  An antique dressing mirror stood beside the sink and she took in her reflection, letting her fingers trace the blue veins along her throat and down to her breasts. She needed to feed, the bluish lines made that evident, but something else gripped her body, making her shake with a need greater than thirst.

  Naked, her hands cupped her breasts, kneading the cold flesh. Images of strong hands grasping and teasing danced through her mind until she inhaled through her teeth, closing her eyes and letting the tingle spread down her belly.

  The water was ready and so was she. She snapped off the lights and lit the blood-scented candles on either side of the tub before padding out to get the adult novelty box from the other room.

  Not waiting, she tore the cardboard and cellophane wrapper, her nails slicing through the wire twisty ties holding the synthetic cock in its place.

  The man-made phallus was heavy in her hands and as long as her forearm, with a slanted blunt-cut tip on one end and the largest scrotum knot she’d seen on the other.

  The synthetic flesh was soft to the touch, with veining that made her mouth water thinking about the rich blood that would engorge a real wolf’s cock.

  What if what Bette said was true and Were blood could sate her thirst for weeks, if not months?

  Three centuries was too long past for her to remember the taste and feel of an erect wolf, and the possibilities made her shiver thinking about sinking her teeth into Dash’s throat as his hard length sunk deep between her legs.

  Abigail placed the dildo on the low table beside the tub. She slipped into the scalding water, a sigh on her lips as it skimmed over her skin, the steam from the heat swirling along the surface like a thin fog.

  Dash.

  She filled her mind with images of him. His smirk, the curve of his rugged jaw. His scent gave away as much as he claimed her scent did, and she gauged the layered flavor, his honesty surprising in that he actually meant what he said. Including wanting her as much as she wanted him.

  Not that she’d ever admit it.

  From the moment he put his hands on his hips in the office, pushing his jacket back, she wanted him.

  At the outline of hard muscles visible through his thin dress shirt and the way his pants glided over his thighs, hugging his ass and the package between his legs.

  He’d held her pinned, and it was all she could do not to rip his pants from his body and fist his cock, sinking her fangs into his throat.

  Instead she used her strength to shove him away. She exhaled. Self-protect. That was the name of the game, yet the feel of his hard lines and how immoveable his body was beneath her fingers threw her for a moment, almost costing her intended force.

  Giving in was not an option. She was the one in control. She’d been there, done that and been burned, so the alternative was unthinkable.

  Her hands cupped the steaming water and slipped over her arms to her shoulders, letting the cascade trail across her breasts. Her fingers followed, pausing to circle her nipples, pinching and teasing each before sliding further to her shaved mound.

  Bringing her knees up, she let her legs fall open. Closing her eyes, she glided both hand into the water, one circling her clit while the other spread her pussy lips, one finger at a time working their way into her slick entrance.

  She let her head fall back against the tub pillow, enjoying the feel of her own hands and the tiny waves cresting and teasing her nipples. Lifting one hand from her slit, she reached for the wolf’s cock, slicking a thin coating of lube up and down its shaft and over its head.

  Spreading her knees wider, she lifted her buttocks and plunged the dildo into her pussy. She hissed and then gasped back the breath, pumping the synthetic cock deep and hard, working herself fast.

  Moaning, she used her fingers on her clit, teasing and pinching until she felt the crest of climax. Muscles tensed, and she held for the onslaught of spasms and pleasure, but it wouldn’t come.

  Frustrated, she ignored the unfulfilled pain and numbness and closed her eyes, letting what remained of Dash’s scent fill her senses.

  Images of his muscled chest and thighs rippled in her head, his bare body twined with hers, but the picture twisted and changed until she smelled loamy earth. The soft crunch of leaves beneath her, the full moon and a delicious musky scent, his skin and her fangs against his flesh.

  Nathan

  She squeezed her eyes tighter, focusing on Dash and the here and now. Her climax built again, but Nathan’s face…his expression…his revulsion…

  Eyes still closed, her head jerked up from the pillow. “Get out of my head!”

  Body shaking with unspent lust, she worked her pussy deeper, faster. Feet planted against the white curve of the tub, she gripped the dildo white knuckled, clenching the base so hard the artificial flesh crumbled in her hand.

  With a guttural snarl she threw the ruined cock against the mirror smashing the glass. She screamed, and every ounce of frustration and pent desire poured into the pained yell.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” Bette asked, shoving the bathroom door open.

  She stood in the doorway, mouth open as she looked at the shattered shards covering the tile and the squashed dildo at the center of the mess.

  “Is there something you need to tell me or do I need to call one of the youngbloods from downstairs to help release whatever caused all this?” she asked, her hand sweeping the bathroom.

  Abigail slipped under the water, submerging her head and face.

  Exhaling, Bette walked on the broken glass and reached into the water yanking the older vampire up by her hair, not caring if she was insubordinate.

  “Enough drama queening. Abby. Answer me or I’m going to call Sébastien. What the hell has gotten into you?”

  Sputtering, Abigail pushed wet hair from her eyes and face. “Nothing. Everything. That thing—” She pointed a dripping hand toward what was left of the synthetic wolf phallus.

 
Bette’s eyes followed and shook her head. “Come on, Abs…seriously? A dildo caused all this? You have access to the finest vampire cock in the city and you choose to shove a piece of fleshy plastic into your snatch? Why?”

  Abigail didn’t respond, just stared at the offending sex toy. Bette looked at it again as well, and her eyes widened.

  “Oh my God, it’s a werewolf cock.” Her lips spread into a deliberate smirk. “You little lying bitch. You have the hots for Dash.”

  Abigail stayed silent, but her eyes found Bette’s amused face. She stared at her, chewing on the corner of her lip before finally sitting up in the quickly cooling water. She opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped, eyeing her friend’s face instead. “Bette. Your skin.”

  Her friend nodded with a giggle. “I know, right?”

  “What did you do? You look almost—” she bit her tongue clipping her words when she realized why.

  “Almost what?” the younger vampire asked with a chuckle. “Human?”

  Abigail nodded, reaching her wet fingers out, but then pulling her hand back.

  With a close-lipped grin, Bette took her friend’s hand and placed it on her cheek. “It’s Gehrig.” A wistful sigh left the younger vampire’s lips. “I told you wolf blood could sate a vampire’s thirst for a long time, but what I didn’t know was how it could warm an undead body from the inside out, giving back a bit of what the darkness took, even if only for a little while.”

  Embarrassed and happy, Bette flushed warm and pink, so like a human. Abigail slid her hand down to her friend’s chest, half expecting to find a heartbeat inside.

  “Amazing,” Abigail whispered, almost awed.

  Bette covered her friend’s hand with hers. “You could have it too, you know. And you’re right, the feeling is amazing.”

  Abigail pulled her hand away.

  “What?” Bette’s brows knotted. “You know I’m right.”

  Abby shook her head. “No, Bette. To use a modern turn of phrase, been there done that with the furred and fanged set. Thanks, but no thanks.”

  Bette shrugged. “Suit yourself. You always do.” She straightened from the side of the tub and handed her friend a towel from the warming rack, toeing some of the broken glass aside.

  “You’d better call for someone to sweep up this mess, and have a donor sent up as well. You look like shit.”

  Abigail stood in the now cold water and wrapped the soft terrycloth around her body. She frowned at Bette’s sharp tone and the harsh expression on her friend’s face.

  “Bette—”

  The younger vampire held up one hand. “I don’t understand, right?” She shook her head. “That’s your standard answer, Abs. Well, how can you expect me to understand when you never share what’s behind this angst nonsense? I love you like a sister Abigail, but you are one fucked up vampire. You walk around like the Ice Queen, reveling in your bitchiness, but I know better than that.”

  Abigail waved her off. “Forget it. Forget all of it.”

  Bette exhaled with another nod. “Whatever you say, your Highness.” She inhaled, shaking her head at the unspent need still hanging in the air.

  “You know nothing and no one is going to sate whatever this is or wherever this came from.” Bette swept her hand past the broken glass, again. “At least not for very long.”

  She looked at her friend still standing in cold water. “You need to do something or this constant craving is going to make you snap. You didn’t deny it when I said you had the hots for Dash. For whatever reason, past or present, the idea of hooking up with a wolf sets your fangs on edge, and I get it. But you’ve exhausted all other means—” Her gaze fell on the dildo. “Actual and imitation. It’s up to you.”

  Bette bent to pick up what was left of the crushed sex toy and handed it to the older vampire. “Trust me. The real thing is much better. Do it, Abigail, and exorcise your damned pussy-punishing demons once and for all. Immortality is too long a time to shoulder whatever leftovers you’re carrying.”

  Abigail didn’t answer, just chewed on this inside of her cheek.

  Bette’s gaze softened at the new vulnerability on her friend’s face. “Look, I’m meeting Gehrig in an hour. Come with us. Maybe he can help.”

  Abigail raised an eyebrow, a smirk replacing the uncertainty on her face. “Is that an offer to share?”

  Bette laughed out loud, her eyes sparkling. “Absolutely not. Finders keepers and you can find your own.”

  Abigail stepped out of the tub onto the mat opposite the pile of shards. “Like you said, I have to feed first. Then we’ll see. I still have to call Sébastien about what we found at the shadow house, and who knows how long that conversation will take and what he’ll want me to do.”

  Bette eyed her, concerned. “That bad?”

  Abby shrugged. “We don’t know yet. That’s the problem. I’m supposed to regroup with Dash tomorrow and take it from there.”

  Bette’s lips pursed in a side smirk. “And I’m sure you’ll have no problem telling him how you like to take it.”

  Abigail smirked, but her silent heart warmed with affection for her friend. “Funny. Now get out. Go meet your wolf. I’ll catch up with you later or tomorrow.”

  7

  “You’re late.” Abigail stood at Finn’s desk, ledgers open and the computer humming. Her hands were on her hips, her long fingers accenting her curves.

  Dash let his eyes travel the length of her body. “It’s the dead of night and there wasn’t a cab to be found. Besides, there’s a full moon tonight or did you forget?”

  Bitch queen or not, the pull of the moon and the edgy tension between them sent his sex drive into high gear. Even if he wanted to tell her to fuck off, his cock wouldn’t let him. If she wanted to fuck off, it damn well would be on his dick.

  Ignoring him, Abigail leaned over and punched a few keystrokes into the computer, glancing at him over the top edge of the monitor. “Sébastien gave me the security codes for the downtown vaults. We recently had them restored and restocked from the temporary site we were forced to use after Hurricane Sandy.”

  He smirked. “Viruses, hurricanes, and yet everyone thinks vampires are immune to human circumstance.”

  She didn’t even glance up. “That’s a stupid thing to say. Vampires are impervious to most of what would kill a human, or even a Were for that matter, but immortality isn’t what it used to be.”

  Impressed, he nodded. “That’s quite a concession coming from you. Then again, I suppose the modern world presents dangers more sophisticated than say a stake through the heart.”

  Abigail straightened, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Seriously? First off, it’s cliché. Second, name one creature a stake through the heart wouldn’t kill, and why are you so surprised to hear we take precautions?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not, really. It’s just nice to see you admit you’re vulnerable.” He grinned. “You know, vulnerability gets a bad rap, especially with you undead types. In stolen moments, it’s actually an attractive quality. Makes you accessible. Don’t you want to be accessible, Abigail?” Dash raised an eyebrow.

  An annoyed exhale dismissed him outright. “Okay. Moving on.”

  “Why is the idea of vulnerability so hard for you?” he pressed.

  “Sébastien wants us to head to the vaults after we’ve determined which blood batch was assigned to this shadow house,’ she said, purposefully ignoring his question. “I’ve accessed everything we need in the database.” She gestured toward the keyboard.

  “Once we’re done cleaning up the mess here, we can trace the delivery route to the other houses and then you and Gehrig can take it from there.” She looked at him. “Did you bring what we need?”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “And I don’t plan to. Again, did you bring what we need?”

  “Maybe,” He replied. He slid the insulated bag from his shoulder and dropped it unceremoniously onto the chair, an
then moved around the desk to stand beside her. “Now stop answering my question with another question.”

  “I have no intention of getting into this with you, wolf. You and your insipid questions are irrelevant and beneath me to even acknowledge. You don’t interest me. I find you and the rest of your kind distasteful and lacking in every way. Some may get a cheap thrill in dabbling in the taboo, but I’m not one of them.”

  She uncrossed her arms and spread her hands in mock invitation. “So, if you don’t mind, can we get back to the business at hand?”

  “Oh, honey. You need it bad, don’tcha?”

  Abigail’s eyes flashed. “It?”

  He met her angry stare with a smirk.

  “You really are a juvenile.” She shot back. “Even if that were true, what makes you think you’re the one to deliver?”

  Knock, knock.

  Both sets of eyes jerked toward the open door.

  “The vampires are waiting for you in the lounge.” Finn’s gaze didn’t move from the floor. “As requested, the last delivery of food and supplements is due this morning. The truck has been instructed to unload by the downstairs side entrance.”

  Abigail’s eyes slid to Dash. “Very well, Finn. You may go.”

  The man left without another word and she continued to stare down the wolf. “No answer? Hmmm…guess we’re not quite the big bad wolf we like to think we are, huh?”

  “I don’t need to give you an answer, Abigail. Scent doesn’t lie.” He tapped the side of his nose and then reached out, running a knuckle over her cool cheek. “As for a being a big bad wolf? You’ll have to see for yourself how big and bad I am. Care to find out?”

  She shoved his hand away. “Nice try, fur ball, but I’ve got better things to do with my time than waste it teaching you to beg.”

  He looked at her, amused. “You really are beautiful when you’re bitchy.””

  She didn’t reply, just crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes unblinking. “And you are like a dog with a bone. Does the fact you keep changing the subject mean you didn’t bring the required serum with you?”