Runa tangled her fingers through his braids, grabbing hold of them forcefully to bring his mouth to hers. Her hips moved slightly, grinding against the motion of his fingers.
Her hands danced along his flexing muscles as he held himself above her. She fondled his cock, positioning it outside her opening.
A smile lit his features, he was ready to feel her soft walls around his cock. Runa dug her fingers into his solid ass, pulling him inside her.
They both released a ragged breath and stilled at the moment of penetration. Her walls quivered and contracted around him, trying to accommodate his girth. “Go slow.”
“Yes, my goddess,” he breathed lovingly in her ear as he teethed her lobe.
She writhed and pressed against him as she accommodated his cock and picked up the rhythm. Hunter pressed his solid chest against hers and slid his arm around her waist.
In one quick movement he turned them over, putting her on top.
Runa rested her hands on his chest, grinding against him, taking all of him inside her. Her pace increased, and her breathing became more labored.
Hunter watched her and took pleasure in her riding his cock with wild abandon. He grabbed her waist, grinding her harder against his body. He felt her swollen clit rubbing against the base of his cock.
Hunter dragged her to the edge of climax with his rough hands on her skin and his girth pulsing against her walls. “I’m going to come.”
“Come for me, my goddess,” Hunter growled, holding back his release.
Her eyes opened, and she pinned him with a determined look. “Give me your seed and I will bear you a son.” She said it low and serious, like it’s the only thing that will keep her alive.
A long roar erupted from his lungs as his seed spilled inside her pulsing walls. He could feel her pussy pulsing around him, her climax riding his pleasure.
Her body stilled, then quivered, her labored breath rendered her speechless.
His fingers threaded behind her neck to pull her down to his lips. He kissed her lovingly, admiring her heavy eyes.
With something devilish behind her smile, she nipped at his bottom lip. “Not Odin himself could make me come that hard.”
“Odin, you say?” He huffed a laugh, trailing his hands lightly down the soft skin on her back.
“Yes, soon all will be crying out the virtues of their new god, Bjorn.” She giggled softly in his ear.
“My goddess,” he said, pulling her close to his chest.
Runa nibbled at his neck, whispering in his ear, “Poseidon has been angry, I must get back to the nets.” She rolled off him and slid into her dress. “Tonight?”
Hunter nodded, leaning back for a moment in the hay to take in her beauty. “We will feast.”
* * *
Hunter stepped off the elevator into the lab filled with renewed hope. Dreaming of his one true love always drove him forward. He was determined to find a cure to get to Valhalla to be with Runa.
He checked Camille’s desk for the delivery itinerary, but it wasn’t there. “Damn it.”
“You are not allowed to be grumpy,” Camille warned, coming off the elevator carrying a box. “Was this what you were looking for?”
“Yes.” Hunter widened his eyes, “Are those the new samples?”
“And good morning to you.” Sarcasm at his lack of greeting dripped from her lips.
Hunter took the white box, and for a moment he felt intoxicated. He paused and examined Camille closely. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”
Camille pulled her lips to the side. “You know I don’t wear perfume.”
Hunter rattled the thought from his head. “No matter,”
“Maybe someone else in the lab is,” she said, looking around to see only one other lab assistant. “Well, I seriously doubt Harvey’s wearing a new perfume . . . cologne maybe?”
Hunter breathed deeply through his nose. “No, it’s sweet. Like something . . .” He searched for the right word. “Luscious.”
Camille shrugged and turned her computer on dismissively. “I don’t smell anything.”
Hunter drew a deep breath into his lungs, the scent dancing on his tongue. A feeling of euphoria overcame him, and he stood still for a moment, savoring the flavor. It had been so long since he’d tasted anything that wasn’t blood or booze. He had forgotten how much he missed being able to eat and enjoy exotic fruits and flavors that burst in his mouth. The thought of warm, fresh blood tickled at his memory.
He turned, eyeing Camille, wanting to drink from her. What the hell am I thinking?
He took the samples into the sterile room to smudge them on slides to study.
He pulled the top off the container and the scent was overwhelming. His sharp vision blurred and he swooned, sitting back on the stool. Heat rushed to his face, spiraling through his body.
He dragged his hand across his forehead and looked at his hand. “Sweat?”
Hunter searched his memory for the last time he sweat. A million thoughts ran through his mind at once. Vampires don’t get sick, he couldn’t possibly have a fever.
He lost himself in the scent, his entire being reacted. His cock grew against his trousers. He turned, catching sight of Camille walking across the lab. She smiled sweetly at him through the glass window and continued to another workstation.
His mind was flooded with decadent thoughts of sex and feeding.
Warm blood dripping down his throat and the touch of a woman was all he could think about. He dropped the lid to the container on the floor and headed for Camille. He buried his nose in her red hair and took in her scent. It wasn’t nearly as pleasing, but it would do. “Hey,” he said in a husky voice.
Camille shooed him away. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to take your advice and enjoy life a little.” He ran his hands down her arms.
Camille stood up and away from him. Her brow furrowed with confusion. “What the hell was wrong with you?”
He took three steps toward her. “Nothing’s wrong, I finally get what you’re saying about how I need to let go every now and then. I’d like to let go right now.” He leaned down, gliding his lips across her collar bone.
Camille pushed him away. “Hunter, you’re drunk . . . or something.”
“Drunk with lust.” His cock rubbing against the inside of his pants was setting him off even more.
Camille studied him closely, trying to work out what’s happening. “Okay, seriously, Hunter, have you been experimenting on yourself again?” Concern trickled out on her tone.
“No, I made a promise.” Hunter licked his lips at the thought of being inside her. “No more self-experimentation, but you said nothing about exploration.” He pumped his brow.
“Hunter, you need to back off. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you need to get it out.” She kept her anger at bay, knowing that something was off with him. “Did you have the dream again?”
Hunter nodded as melancholy flashed in his expression, distracting him.
“Is that what’s gotten into you? Because I don’t understand how after four hundred years, you’re suddenly interested in . . .” She had trouble saying the word. “Sex.”
Hunter’s predatory smile was something Camille had only seen when he was about to do battle, she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. “Hunter, you’re scaring me.”
Hunter ticked his head back in shock. “You know I would never hurt you.”
“The look in your eye says something else and it’s scaring the fuck out of me. You need to tell me what’s happening to you.” Fear stretched her voice to a higher register.
Hunter dragged his fingers through his hair, blowing out a discontented breath. This isn’t like him, what was going on? “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to her. “I don’t know what’s wrong, it’s like there’s something else inside me . . .”
“Are you sweating?” She reached for his forehead.
“Yeah, I am.” He wiped his brow, sitting
in the stool at the workstation.
“Did you feed?”
“Yes. I fed well last night,” he recalled.
“Where did the blood come from?” The wheels were turning in her head, trying to understand what had caused his bizarre behavior.
“The stores Sophie brought by yesterday.”
“That can’t be it.” She tapped her finger to her chin, maintaining a distance from him. “Is there any left? Maybe we should run some tests.”
“No, I finished it, there were only two bags.” He looked around the room as though the answer was in the air. “I’m feeling better, more in control.”
“Are you sure?” she questioned cautiously.
“Yes, I’m sure.” He stood to go back to the sterile room to continue his work.
“Maybe you should feed again?” she asked, heading for the cooler. “I’ll get you a bag.”
“Yes, that may be helpful. I do feel hungry, but I shouldn’t.” He opened the door to the sterile room and the feeling took him over again.
The sound of the main door to the lab opening drew his attention. A young human woman entered.
Camille’s eyes flashed to Hunter, she saw the predatory look in his eyes as he glowered at the woman. “Meghan, get out.”
Meghan froze in place and took in the scene. “What did I do?”
Camille glared at Hunter, he looked back with defiance and challenge. She couldn’t match his strength or speed, she needed to come up with a plan and quick.
His gaze shifted back to Meghan and Camille took advantage of the distraction.
She darted across the lab, pushing him down inside the sterile room, surprising him. Before Meghan saw what was happening, Camille rushed to her and got her out the lab door and punched in the code for the quarantine lock down.
Hunter was already at the door staring hatefully through the window. “Camille, open this door,” he growled.
“Not until we figure out what’s wrong with you. This isn’t like you.” Her eyes widened as she motioned to his fangs.
Meghan stood shaking behind Camille. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, sweetheart. Doctor Webb isn’t feeling well,” Camille explained.
Meghan’s eyes were wide with terror, “Would he . . .”
Camille pulled Meghan into a hug, stroking her hair. “No, he would never hurt you. He may be feeling off right now, but I’ve never seen that man lose control . . . ever.”
Hunter pounded on the door and Camille found herself thankful for the reinforced materials Hunter insisted on when he built this lab. “Let me the fuck out of here, Camille. You can’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll be back and we’re going to figure out what’s going on with you. But I’m not letting you out,” she said with determination.
Hunter’s expression softened. “Really, I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I don’t know either and until we do, you’re not getting out.” Camille turned toward the elevator with her arm around Meghan’s shoulders.
Hunter continued to beat on the door. “How long do you think this door will hold?”
“As long as it needs to,” she said as the elevator door closed, and she set the code to lock down the entire floor.
Chapter 6
Rook walked down the steps of the tiny bed and breakfast to make her pick up from Julio and say goodbye to Seamus. He’d looked out for her while she was there, she appreciated that. She turned the corner onto Piety Street and stopped in her tracks when she didn’t see Julio manning the taco cart. Her intuition told her run, but her curiosity and need for the money wouldn’t let her. Her awareness was on high alert she noticed the absence of people on the street. It was early, but nearly noon and usually by this time of day shop owners had already dragged their stand-up signs out onto the sidewalk.
She continued by the taco cart without making eye contact with the vendor. She made a quick turn into the bar, she was sure something was wrong. The early regulars weren’t in their bar stools and there was a single man dressed in a suit sitting in one of the booths.
Seamus saw her, and disappointment mixed with something else clouded his expression. He continued drying glasses and placing them in the racks under the bar.
Rook slid onto one of the stools and pinned Seamus with a questioning look. “Good morning.”
Seamus leaned forward with disapproval. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
She said in nearly a whisper, “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my favorite bartender.”
His lip curled upward. “You should’ve sent a card.”
“What’s going on?” she hissed, resisting the urge to look at the man in the booth, “Who’s the stiff?”
“You are,” a deep oily voice sounded in her ear.
Seamus stepped away from his post, leaving her alone with the man.
Rook made a half turn with her lips pursed, “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Not yet, but you will.” A cruel smile set his features. “Won’t you join me? We’ve got business to discuss.”
Rook hid her fear, she didn’t want him to have one tiny inkling that she was shaken in the least. “Business? Now you’re talking my language. What do you have in mind?”
“Perhaps this conversation will be better in private.” His expression never changed.
She turned and looked toward the booth. “Over there.” She picked up her backpack and started for the booth.
“I was thinking you could come with me and we could discuss what I have in mind.”
“No, we can talk here.” She continued toward the booth.
“I’m sorry, did you think that was a suggestion?” He raised his brow.
“I really don’t care if it was a suggestion, I’m not going anywhere with you.” She shrugged. “If you want to talk business, we do it here. If not, I’ve got somewhere to be.”
He remained silent and unmoving as an answer.
“Okay, I guess whatever business you wanted to discuss wasn’t that important.” She slung her pack over her shoulder and started for the door. “I’ll catch you next time, Seamus.”
Seamus watched nervously as she disappeared through the door.
Rook stepped out on the street, hoping the sunlight will serve as some protection, although she was certain that vamp was a day-walker. Her brain went on overdrive. I should’ve gotten his name, I should have a cell phone to call Samuel, or anyone for that matter.
Rook tried to devise a plan for getting out of New Orleans alive. Jeziah dying by her hand was going to have consequences from the vamps. They didn’t care that he died trying to kill her, some of them are just that twisted. “Fucking vamps,” she said under her breath, seeing three of them standing on each street corner.
The streets were still empty except for them. She turned down an alley and felt a tiny bit of relief when she saw it was empty. She went from a fast walk to a jog, hoping for some safety on the next street. She could duck into Percy’s, he may not have been willing to help her, but he’d let her use the phone.
The street wasn’t bustling, but it wasn’t eerily still. She jaywalked across to the convenience store and rushed through the door.
“Rook,” Percy said, “You’re a little early, I’m afraid all the hot dogs are fresh.” He laughed.
“I need to use your phone,” she said in a panic, leaning across the counter.
“Well, sure, just come on in the back.” He hobbled out from behind the counter, picking up his cane along the way. “I know I should get one of those fancy portable phones, but honestly anyone I want to talk to comes to see me.” He chuckled.
He led her through the back door to a small office with a metal desk covered in papers, flats of bottled water stacked in the corner and old calendars lined the walls with various notes scrawled everywhere.
She turned to him. “Thank you.”
“There’s the phone, let me know if you need anything.” He
stepped back out of the office and closed the door.
She picked up the dingy beige handset and pressed it to her ear, there was no dial tone. She pressed the button on the phone a few times. “Come on.”
She froze at the realization she’d been duped, she turned around to try the door.
Locked.
“Shit.” She looked around for a way to escape, her only option was a tiny window with bars on the other side. “Shit again.”
Think, how are you getting out of this? She threw her head back, not ready to give up but looking to God for some sort of answer. She was rewarded when she saw a string hanging from the ceiling attached to an attic door. “Yes.”
She rolled the old desk chair closer to the string, climbed up and pulled down the door. She tossed her backpack up and hiked herself up into the attic.
She lay on her belly, dangling her backpack down to push the chair back to the desk, then reached under the door to pull the string upward to close the hatch. With the knife from her boot and cut the string at the base and slid the string into her pocket. “Okay, how to get out of here?”
A few streams of light came through the cracks in a vent that appeared to be the only way out. It would be tight, but she could get through there. She heard a commotion downstairs and stopped to listen.
The door to the office creaked open. “Where is she?”
There was banging, and the sound of things being tossed around in the office.
Rook pressed her hands over her mouth to quiet her breathing.
“She was in here,” Percy insisted.
“She can’t just disappear,” the other voice said, full of anger.
“Anything’s possible,” Percy said. “If she killed a vamp, there’s no tellin’ what else she can do. Maybe she’s a witch,” he offered as a possibility.
“She’s not a witch,” the other voice said. “We’d better find her or there’s going to be hell to pay. If I find out you helped her, you’ll be my next meal.”
Footsteps across the old wooden floor of the store gave Rook a tiny glimmer of hope that the vamp was leaving.
It didn’t mean she’s out of this, but she’d at least be able to breathe. When she heard the bell on the door ring, she released the breath she’d been holding. She looked out onto the street through the slats in the vent. No vamps, just regular street traffic.
A Vampire's Thirst Page 4
