Desire Calls
Page 2
“Should you be afraid?” she asked, almost hoping that Blake would prove her right and make a fast exit as so many of the vamps at the Blood Bank had done upon her arrival.
“A man’s got to face his fears,” Blake said calmly and sipped his blood, barely glancing in the direction of the barkeep whose sallow vampire skin was starting to turn slightly blue.
With a flick of her hand, Stacia released her hold on the vampire and examined Blake, sensing something different about him. Something a bit more…intriguing. He had changed since the last time she had seen him. “So you don’t fear me…”
“Should I?” he asked again. “Do you have some nefarious plan for me, luv?” His voice was laced with humor and not a whit of the anxiety she usually inspired in other lesser vampires. When he gestured in the direction of the back rooms, she chuckled.
“Get real. Me and you? Do I look like I’m slumming?”
With a careless shrug, Blake slipped off the stool and with a nod said, “Well, then it’s good-bye, I guess.”
Stacia controlled her surprise at his seeming nonchalance and watched him walk away, his swagger drawing the attention of quite a few female heads. Stupid human females who didn’t realize that to Blake, they were just a possible snack.
When he actually sidled up to one, bent that peroxided head and said something to the young woman that had her laughing, annoyance flared through Stacia. She didn’t know why. At best, she and Blake were long-time acquaintances. Not friends. Elders had few friends, not even other elders.
There were usually too many power plays going on to permit true friendship to develop.
Blake’s attitude was therefore…refreshing.
As he and the young woman headed onto the dance floor and plastered their bodies against each other, Stacia decided that it was time she had some fun, as well, instead of just sitting there, moping.
Moping was so pitiful.
Scoping out the crowd in the bar, she noticed one young man seated at a booth along the far wall. Big and powerful. The black T-shirt he wore clung to the thick large muscles of his arms as they rested on the edge of the booth. Artificially black hair punched up the paleness of his face which had obviously been enhanced with makeup, as had his thick dark eyelashes.
Like her, he had an earring through his brow, although his was silver. His ears also sported a variety of piercings and when he smiled, the wink of silver in his tongue promised her more pleasure.
A vamp wannabe? she wondered. Or just out for a night of play?
Finishing her blood, Stacia rose from her stool and walked toward the booth, but didn’t immediately engage the young man. While the direct approach generally worked best, sometimes the hunt and chase was much more stimulating.
With the slightest glance his way–although enough to let him know he had been noticed–she sauntered past him to the dance floor, making sure to stay in his line of sight.
Once there, she released herself to the music, shifting to the hard beats. They were almost violent in their volume, the strength of the sound driving against her body until it was as if the throb of the bass had melded with her heartbeat.
She moved her hips, gyrating in rhythm to the pulse. Raised her hands, which lifted the hem of her black leather vest to expose the pale expanse of her flat midriff and the woven ring of gold through her navel.
Warmth came against her skin as a hand snaked around her waist and dragged her to a rock-hard body.
Looking up over her shoulder, she smiled as she saw the young Goth man behind her. Felt the strength and size of his physique against her petite frame.
As she moved her backside, pressing into him, she realized she had made a good choice. He was just what she needed to welcome her to New York City.
Chapter 4
Okay, so Stacia had basically dissed him. That still didn’t change the fact that she was absolutely stunning. A goddess.
Considering that she was an elder, maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth. In the vampire world, the elders were like gods.
From the corner of his eye, Blake took in all of her. The black leather she wore looked as if it were painted on the womanly curves of her body. Her nearly black hair was a shock of dark against the ivory of her skin. Sleek and cropped close to her skull, it exposed the perfect shells of her ears with an assortment of golden earrings.
As she twirled around the rather large Goth, laughing and playing her sexual games, the golden ring at her brow winked enticingly as did the golden ring through her navel.
She was something to behold, he realized, although nothing like Meghan who was like the light of the sun to Stacia’s dark night. Fun to Stacia’s fear since despite his earlier denial, on some level he was afraid of her.
Stacia could take his life with a flick of her finger. He would be foolish not to respect her and yet…
There was something different about her tonight. Something almost…human. He tuned out the young woman next to him and kept an eye on Stacia.
Not that she needed protection.
The young man with her might be a mountain of muscle, but he was mortal. Blake knew that much from the lack of power that came from the Goth. He was no match for Stacia, even if she was such a little thing.
He liked his women petite, Blake realized, recalling Meghan. Stacia was of a like height, but much more womanly with all those delectable curves.
Not that he was interested, Blake thought. He had enough problems with women in his life and without a backward glance, abandoned his dance companion.
Unlike Stacia, who seemed to have few problems finding a man, he thought as he stalked back to the bar, wondering why Stacia’s intense dance with the Goth was bothering him so.
Maybe because Stacia’s idea of a dance was…
He gulped, fighting the thrum of power she was releasing as she played with the Goth. He wasn’t the only one feeling it, he realized as a surge of awakening told him that the other vampires in the club were also experiencing it. Tapping into the spill of her elder power, like chum for vampires.
Only the price to be paid for fully experiencing a kiss of that power could be lethal if the elder was so inclined.
Tonight, Stacia seemed intent on satisfying other needs, Blake thought, sipping on his wine as he watched her sway against the young man. Run her hands up his arms and over his exaggerated muscles.
He glanced down at his own arms. Lean and mean, he had nothing to be ashamed of, he thought, and returned his attention to the antics of Stacia and the Goth.
The young man was clearly smitten, unaware that beneath the body that he was so eagerly moving his hands all over was destructive power. Strength beyond that of anyone else in the room. Lust and desire that would ensnare you in its grasp, but then drain you dry if you gave into it.
Blake sucked in a shaky breath, feeling the pull of her even across the distance of the club. Feeling himself harden and rise from the spillover of her ardor.
But he was not alone. As Stacia faced the bar, their gazes connected and he realized that she sensed his awakening passion. Passion stronger than that of the puny mortal with her.
While facing him, she raised her hand up to caress the Goth’s face.
Blake felt the sweep of her hand as if against his own cheek. So soft. Cold.
All the time, Stacia kept her gaze locked with his, clearly aware of her effect on him. Increasing her caresses and movements until he was nearly undone and she finally broke free from the Goth, done with his weak mortality.
She began to head his way, well aware that the pleasure of Blake’s body and blood would surpass that of any puny mortal.
And Lord help him, he was ready to give in to her despite knowing it would be a mistake. A major mistake.
Stacia could never love anyone.
But love was highly overrated anyway, wasn’t it? Blake thought as he rose from the stool and walked toward her.
The Goth clearly didn’t like being left behind wanting. He grabbed hold of Stacia’s arm, spun her around so that he could voice his displeasure.
With the barest movement of her arm, Stacia broke free from the young man and raised her hand. The Goth dropped to his knees, his face reflecting disbelief at his seeming inability to control his own body.
Blake approached and despite his better judgment, laid his hand over Stacia’s. Barely half a foot taller than her, it took little for him to bend down and whisper in her ear, “Let the young fool go, luv.”
Stacia shot him a look, but beneath his hand, the hum of power surging outward warmed his palm. The young man was swaying and beginning to turn blue, but Blake couldn’t tell just what Stacia was doing to him until she broadcast the vision she had in her mind.
He saw it then, compliments of Stacia’s power. She was encircling the Goth’s heart, slowly crushing the life from it. If she didn’t release her hold on him, the foolish boy would soon be dead.
“If you finish this–“
“When I finish this,” she corrected and almost as if for the fun of it, gave the young man a shake.
“Let him go. You’ve proven your point,” he urged and surprisingly, she did as he asked.
“Thank you,” Blake said, but Stacia shook her head at his words.
“Don’t thank me, Blake. If you don’t know by now, I expect payment for that request,” she said and was about to walk away when the Goth’s friends surrounded them.
As two of them helped their friend back to the booth, another two blocked their way. Their stances were fight-ready, their looks surly.
Blake raised his hand. “You don’t want to do this,” he suggested in low tones.
“That’s right. You don’t want to do this. At least, not here,” Foley, the owner of the bar, said as he approached the group.
The two young men looked at Foley and one of them nodded and said, “Let’s take it outside.”
Blake was about to protest that there was no need, only Stacia and the two men were already stalking away to a back exit to the alley.
Shit, he thought, following them. He hated being a hero.
Chapter 5
Anger pushed her to rashness. So not a good thing, Stacia thought as she thrust open the back door of the club. It rebounded against the wall with a loud clang before she stepped into the alley. She reminded herself that too many a vampire had let emotion lead them to a stupid act which cost them their lives.
But she couldn’t let these two go unpunished. A little infliction of pain would suffice to satisfy her honor and temper.
Bright moonlight spilled onto the cracked cement walls and the asphalt on the floor in the alley. The better to see their blood with, she thought and turned to face the two young men as they took up positions on either side of her. Blake had followed them out as well, but merely leaned against the wall by the door and crossed his arms nonchalantly, a bored look on his face.
The stupid-looking muscle-bound one called out to him, “Are you just going to stand there while we kick your girl’s ass?”
“Bullocks, mate. That woman is so going to make you suffer. I’m just here to make sure you’re still breathing when she’s done,” Blake said and after, wagged a finger in Stacia’s direction.
“None of your nasties with these children. We wouldn’t want mum and dad to have to spend too much money on therapy,” he teased and actually dragged out a chuckle from her, but that humor was short-lived.
The thick-necked oaf and his friend clearly didn’t think it funny because they suddenly decided to advance on Blake, until she grabbed the hand of one as he walked away from her. With a deft flick of her wrist, she had his arm bent back at a painful enough angle that the young man slowly sank to his knees.
His friend, seeing that he needed assistance, immediately swung a punch in her direction, but she caught his fist in her hand, stopping him mid-swing. Exerting pressure, she reveled in the wince he gave a second before she used her vamp strength and sent him flying back against the brick wall.
His body impacted with a dull thud and momentarily stunned, he sank down onto the floor of the alley beside where Blake stood.
Blake looked down at him in amusement. “Score two for the little chit.”
“Bitch,” his friend shouted and despite her painful grip on his arm, he, too, attempted a punch. A second later, he found himself lying on the floor beside his friend, groaning.
“Had enough, mates?” Blake said, bending down to talk to the two, but they refused to quit the fight.
Since Blake was the closest target, the first youth rose and wrapped Blake up in a bear hug, easily picking him up with his much greater size. He waddled with him in his grasp until they were close to Stacia, but by then Blake had broken free.
Blake placed his back against hers as the two men circled around them, not that she needed his protection. As the men came at them time and time again, Stacia and Blake struck out, inflicting damage.
It was a little odd to have Blake guarding her back. No one had done that in a long time. It was almost–reassuring, she thought as the two men swarmed around them, darting toward them and back out like nasty gnats. Annoying, but harmless.
“This is rather ho-hum,” she said to Blake as she cut short a jab to her face and followed up with a sharp blow to the youth’s nose. Stacia smiled at the satisfying sound of cartilage cracking, not that it stopped her attacker.
From behind her came the sound of the meaty impact of a fist and Blake staggered against her back.
“Just dandy, luv. I always love getting my face kicked in by some nancy boy,” Blake muttered.
She chuckled again, but it distracted her enough that her assailant landed a punishing blow to her ribs. The anger she had been trying to corral broke free.
With a surge of vamp speed, she landed multiple blows to his face until the young man dropped his arms and just stood there. He seemed stunned for a moment, blood running down his face from the assorted cuts her blows had opened up and from his broken nose. His blood was bright red against his skin. Glistening in the moonlight. Flowing freely.
When he recovered from that temporary daze and came at her again, the blood was all Stacia smelled. Warm on her hands as she connected with his face time and time again. Each blow drawing yet more blood. Inflicting greater pain until with one last shot to the man’s ribs, he staggered to his knees.
Stacia didn’t waste a moment, grabbing him from behind a
nd yanking his head to the side to expose his throat. Her fangs burst forth from her mouth, eager for the taste of him. She sank her fangs deep, enjoying the rich taste of his life. Over and over she pulled at his throat, the heat of his blood warming her. Filling her undead body with energy. She savored the moan he gave, tinged with both pain and desire from her vampire’s kiss.
Between her own legs came an answering throb as his blood and desire awakened that part of her, as well. She wanted more, she thought, sucking even harder while snaking her hand down and finding the young man’s rock-hard erection. She wanted to ride him until she heard his last gasping breath of life.
But suddenly, Blake was there. Yanking her hand away and trapping it in his. Thrusting his arm between her and the young man, who dropped to the ground, alive, but unconscious. The ragged bite on his neck already beginning to heal.
She turned on Blake, shocked at his intervention. “You dare to challenge me?”
“Luv, I couldn’t let you do it,” he said, the tones of his voice low and conciliatory, but insufficient to assuage the frustration caused by his meddling.
Fisting her hand into the soft leather of his jacket, she picked him up off the ground with her greater strength and held him in the air. With a shake, she said, “Then you’ll take his place, beloved.”
Chapter 6
He had never seen her in such a fine anger, Blake thought, while dangling nearly a foot above the ground. Trying to placate her, he said, “Stacia, please–“
With a flick of her hand, he flew across the alleyway and into the wall. His head connected with a loud crack and stars swam before his eyes. He struggled for a hold on the wall, but soon found himself sliding down to sit on the cold stone floor of the alley.