In the Company of Vampires do-9

by Katie MacAlister

  Ben lifted an eyebrow. “Not even for the . . . interrogation?”

  “You’re not going to torture them!” I gasped.

  “Torture? No.” David shook his head.

  “They will have to be questioned, though,” Ben said.

  “And they are bound to resist,” Diego added, smiling as he nudged the still unconscious Micah.

  David hauled Isaak to his feet and looped a nylon hand restraint around the latter’s wrists. Isaak was aware enough to protest, but not to put up much of a fight. “Torture implies violence for no particular reason other than to cause pain. Our violence against Isaak and Micah will be for a completely different reason.”

  Isaak understood that well enough. His eyes widened and he started stammering out excuses as David, with a cheery wave at us, hauled him down the slope to the parking lot. Diego cuffed Isaak, and since he still wasn’t conscious, simply grabbed his feet and hauled him naked after David.

  I winced as Diego purposely dragged Isaak over a prickly looking bush. “I really don’t want to know what they’re going to do, do I?”

  “No.” Ben took my hand and led me on a diagonal line from the path the two shape-shifters had taken. “But David will not harm them if they tell him what they know. He’s not a vindictive person.” He stopped for a moment, making a little face. “Well, not normally.”

  David’s car was parked a half mile away, hidden behind a ramshackle shed that was obviously used to store farm equipment. As we drove back to the Faire, I mused over what I’d seen.

  Ben suddenly interrupted the silence that had filled David’s car. “Francesca, I do not like this silent treatment. I know you are angry at me for what you saw, although in my defense, I would like to point out that you wouldn’t have seen it if you hadn’t insisted on spying on the tyro. I know you are angry about it, however, and I’d much prefer that you yell at me now rather than seething quietly.”

  I laughed at the outrageous picture he drew. “Since when have I ever seethed quietly?”

  “You’re not angry?” He shot me a quick look before negotiating a busy intersection in the middle of Brustwarze.

  “Oh, I’m furious. But at Naomi, not you.” I laughed again at the confused expression on his adorable face. “Ben, I’m well aware that you did everything humanly possible to keep from participating in the orgy. I don’t like the fact that Naomi was all over your private parts with a familiarity that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, but I do recognize the difference between her helping herself and you egging her on. You may rest your mind that I am not sitting here seething quietly, not that I think I could even if I wanted to. I’m not the quiet anger sort of person.”

  “I didn’t remember you being so, but thought that, too, had changed.”

  I slid him a hesitant glance. He smiled. No, I do not want you to change any more than you have. You more than please me the way you are, nonseething abilities and all. Did you mean what you said?

  Absolutely. I honestly don’t know how to seethe.

  His lips thinned for a few seconds. You know what I mean. You said you were my Beloved, twice, before others. The first time I understand you were simply trying to establish your hold on me with Naomi. But you said the same thing to de Marco.

  “Your hearing is entirely too good,” I told him, smiling to myself.

  “I felt that!”

  I looked down at where my hand rested possessively on his thigh, immediately pulling it into my own lap. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just . . . er . . . like to feel the muscles in your thigh move when you drive. I didn’t mean to bother you when you’re trying to concentrate.”

  “It’s not bothering me at all.” He placed my hand back on his leg, then shifted uncomfortably. I couldn’t help but glance at his crotch when he gave a little wry laugh. “Not in the sense you mean. I was referring to the smug smile you tried to hide from me. You did mean it, didn’t you?”

  Inner Fran urged me to spill everything to him, every thought, every emotion, every intention, but I have not lived with her my entire life without having some ability to ignore her desires. Instead of yielding to her demands, I looked long and hard at what it would mean to say yes. My lifetime would be measured in centuries, not decades. My life would be bound to Ben’s in ways that right now I had only the vaguest of understanding. It would be acknowledging that yes, in this case fate was right, and that rankled. I had fought so long and hard to make my own decisions and not do what people felt I should that it smacked of surrender to give in.

  On the other hand, who’s to say I didn’t just decide that fate was right, and agreed to go along with it? There was the issue of Ben, too. I wanted him as in love with me as I was with him.

  Ben waited patiently while I sorted through my thoughts, never once trying to touch me either mentally or physically. He was just there, a warm and comfortable presence who seemed to merge so well with me. I had a mental picture of the yin and yang symbol, with the two of us fitting together in a way that left us individuals, and yet greater as a sum total.

  Did I mean what I said to de Marco?

  Ben glanced at me, his expression wary.

  Yes, I meant it. But I’m only one half of the equation, Ben. I think you need to make absolutely sure that your feelings—

  I banged against the door as Ben jerked the wheel of the car and slammed on the brakes, the squeal of tires on cobblestones causing several people in the parade we’d almost plowed into to turn around and glare at us.

  “Are you hurt?”

  I was still shaking the stars from my eyes when Ben was out of the car and at my side, unbuckling the seat belt, running his hands quickly over my and shoulder. “No, not hurt, just kind of surprised. What on earth is going on?”

  He closed my door and went around to the driver’s side, backing up the car until he parked in front of a bakery. “I believe this is the Running of the Brunhildes. Francesca, I must have you.”

  “You must?”

  “Yes. Right now.” His jaw tightened, and I was immediately aware of a burning red need pulsing deep inside him.

  “I thought you couldn’t,” I said, panting just a little at the instant arousal that inflamed my body at the thought of him touching me. Tasting me.

  “I think Naomi trying to kill me is a sign that I can finally do what I’ve wanted to do for the last five years.”

  “Have sex in the middle of a parade?” I asked, looking around at the crowd packing the sidewalks in order to watch a race of people dressed in metal breastplates, winged helmets, and knee-length blond braids. The crowd cheered as a group of Brunhildes raced past, skirts hiked up, braids a-flying, each one bearing a fiery torch.

  “Have sex with you in the middle of a parade,” he corrected, turning first in one direction, then another. “Why aren’t there any hotels in this damned town?”

  “I don’t know.” I almost sobbed with the overwhelming need to have him feed from me. His compulsion to do so fed my desire, leaving my entire being tight and wanting and desperate for release. I looked around frantically, needing to be alone with him so he could feed, so we could complete all those things we’d started so many years ago.

  Ben snarled something rude at the world in general. I didn’t argue, just followed when he took my hand and wove his way through the throngs, avoiding a thundering herd of Brunhildes, moving in and out of the crowds, his eyes constantly searching for a potential spot.

  “Whoever heard of a town without hotels?” I said, shivering when a fresh wave of desire washed from Ben to me. If I was desperate, he was nigh on frantic. We darted here and there, looking for a hotel, but it was slow going through the mass of people. It was as if the entire town had turned out to watch the race. “I’m seriously going to complain to the tourist board about this!”

  Ben shoved past a group of men bearing spears and wearing long fur capes who were using the former to beat back the enthusiastic crowd as a fresh batch of Brunhildes took up the starting line, waiting f
or the starter to signal the beginning of this heat. Ben paused and pointed. “There. That’s a hotel.”

  At his voice, one of the spear bearers turned from where he was poking at a businessman in a three-piece suit and horned helm. “Goddess!”

  “Eirik?”

  Ben pulled me after him to a red door with a small sign proclaiming it to be a hotel. Unfortunately, it was locked.

  “Goddess Fran is here!” I heard Eirik cry over the noise of the cheering throng.

  “Christos!” Ben swore, spinning around, his eyes burning with black light as they searched the street. “I am never coming to this town again!”

  “Me neither! Ben . . . ,” I whimpered. Just a little whimper, but it was a sign of how overwhelmed I was with his emotions, and my own need to Join with him. “There’s got to be somewhere!”

  “What is it you seek?” Eirik asked, looming up with Finnvid and Isleif. Eirik narrowed his eyes at Ben. Ben’s jaw tightened at the sight of Eirik. The two men glared at each other for a minute, then I smacked Ben on the chest.

  “A hotel. We want a hotel. Right now! Do you know where there is one that’s not locked up for the race?”

  Eirik gave Ben a long look. “You wish to rut with goddess Fran?”

  “I wish to Join with her, not that it’s any of your bloody business. Do you know of a hotel or don’t you?”

  “Joining is good,” Isleif said, nodding. “Then the Dark One won’t ever be able to leave the goddess. They should Join, Eirik.”

  Eirik was silent for a few seconds, then grudgingly nodded. “Aye, they should. But no hotels are open. The ale wench at the café told us that. Everyone is watching the race. We were helping.”

  “We were part of the elite Viking Brunhilde guard,” Finnvid clarified.

  “I thought you were going to spend the evening with Imogen?” I asked.

  He scowled. “I was, but she told me she is having her woman’s time, and unless I brought her sacrifices of chocolate and potato chips, I was not to go near her. I am a Viking! I do not fear a woman in her monthly time! I will spurn her until it is over and she has returned to desiring my rod.”

  “You should fear her,” Ben said, momentarily distracted from his frantic search. “Imogen in that mood frightens even me.”

  “What are you boys doing here, though? In the parade?”

  Eirik gestured toward the other two men. “We were given spears and fur capes, although the spears are not well made at all. The tip of mine fell off when I tried to thrust it through the chest of an interloper.”

  A wave of urgency washed over Ben and me. His body trembled as he fought with the hunger that overrode every other emotion. It filled both our minds until I thought I was going to scream.

  “We have to find somewhere,” I told the Vikings, clutching Ben. “He needs me.”

  “Turtle!” Eirik said decisively.

  I gawked. “What?”

  “Turtle. We will form a turtle. You will rut with the Dark One and Join. Our turtle will keep others from seeing you.”

  Immediately, all three men formed a semicircle around us, facing outward.

  “You’re crazy! I’m not going to have sex right here in front of a couple thousand people!”

  Eirik glanced over his shoulder at me. “Why not?”

  It says a lot about just how great Ben’s need was that for a second I considered it.

  “To hell with this,” Ben snarled, and promptly kicked down the hotel door.

  Naturally, there was no one in the lobby or at the reception desk. Ben leaned across the reception desk. This hotel’s proprietors evidently favored the old ways, as evinced by the cubbyholes with keys for the rooms. Ben grabbed one of the keys, and with me in tow, hauled me up three flights of narrow stairs.

  “Don’t you think we should ask first?” I said as he unlocked the door, pushed me inside it, and locked it again, all without me having time to do more than blink. “What if the room you picked is occupied?”

  He let me feel the emotions running rampant in him. His need was so overpowering, my knees buckled. He scooped me up in his arms, almost throwing me on the bed before following me down.

  “We can ask later,” I agreed, wrapping my legs around him as I kissed every available bit of exposed skin.

  I managed to get his shirt off before a crash sounded at the door.

  Ben was off me and at the door in an instant. Eirik stood at the door. “What the hell do you want?” Ben growled.

  “We are guarding the door while you bed the goddess,” Eirik said with much dignity.

  “Aye, we’re guarding.” Finnvid belched as he held up a mammoth stein of ale. “You go right ahead and rut, Dark One.”

  “Guys—” I started to say, but didn’t have a chance to finish when Ben slammed the door shut in their faces, quickly turning the lock and racing back to me, shedding his pants and shoes in the process.

  “Ben! I can’t do this with them outside listening to every squeak of the bed!” I protested.

  Ben ripped my shirt off. He just ripped it right off my body, exposing my by now heated flesh to cooler air. As his head dipped into the curve between my breasts, his mouth a flame on my skin, I groaned and clutched his head. “Ignore me. I can do it just fine with them there. Please, Ben, do it. I feel like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces if you don’t.”

  He didn’t need any further urging. There was a brief sting, followed by a warm rush of pleasure as my blood flowed into Ben, satisfying a bone-deep craving in both of us. He let me feel just how profoundly he was shaken by the experience, and I knew to the very depths of my soul that I had made the right decision. We were meant to be together.

  His tongue lapped at my breast as his hands busily removed the remainder of my clothes.

  “That’s it?” I asked, my body vibrating like a plucked string. I ran my hands up his arms, the velvety soft skin over hard muscles making me squirm almost as much as his hot breath on my now bared breasts. “You’re full?”

  “Oh, no,” he said, his voice deep with wicked intent. “I’ve only begun.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to have to invoke a comparison between you and my toys again.”

  His smile was both tender and incredibly arousing. “I can see I’m going to have to banish the ghost of your sex toys once and for all. But first . . .” An elongated canine tooth flashed in his mouth as he nipped his thumb. I stared at the welling drop of crimson on it. “Are you sure, Francesca? There will be no going back after this point.”

  I held his gaze for three seconds, then took his hand and sucked the tip of his thumb into my mouth.

  He moaned and closed his eyes as I let my tongue swirl over his finger.

  “Spicy,” I said, releasing his thumb. His blood didn’t taste at all like mine, which was coppery and unpleasant—his reminded me of a heavily mulled Christmas wine, filled with the rich notes of cinnamon and cloves. “Does this mean we’re Joined? Do you have your soul back?”

  “Yes, and not yet,” he said, dipping his head down to claim my mouth. “My soul will be returned soon.”

  He made love to me slowly despite both our heightened sensitivity. I wanted him deep within me, but he resisted, using his hands and mouth and the incredible sensations he was feeling to push me to the edge three times before he finally let himself find pleasure. As his motions became more frantic, more wild, I arched up against him and demanded, Do it again!

  He knew what I wanted. His teeth pierced the flesh of my shoulder as his hips pistoned into me, my body moving with him in a celebration of everything that we were together. I poured every ounce of love I had into him, wanting him to know that he meant the moon and stars to me. I knew he didn’t love me, but at that moment, it didn’t matter.

  When did I ever say I didn’t love you?

  My body exploded into a supernova of rapture so intense it made little sparkles dance before my eyes. He groaned into my neck, his breath hot and hard and fast as he pumped wildly no
w, his hands fisted on the sheets beneath me, and at last his back arched and he surged his own form of life into me.

  It took me a couple of minutes before I realized what he’d said. He lay heavy on me, our breathing erratic, his body crushing me into the soft mattress. I slid my legs along his, my hands stroking his back. Our bodies fit together so perfectly, I cherished the feeling of him lying on me, boneless and limp with satisfaction.

  Am I too heavy?

  No. I like it. It makes me feel like we’re a whole.

  We are a whole. He lifted his head from my neck. Why do you think I don’t love you?

  I touched his face, sliding my fingers through the slight stubble that was starting to darken his jaw. “Last year, I asked you if you loved me. You didn’t answer. You can’t lie to me, Ben, so I knew that meant you didn’t want to answer in case it hurt my feelings. Have you . . . have your emotions changed?”

  “No,” he said, and my heart dropped into my gut.

  His lips nibbled on mine, urging them to part. They did.

  I’ve loved you for five years, Beloved. My feelings haven’t changed, but they have grown deeper since you returned to me. You were beautiful and intelligent and strong before, but now there is a depth to you, a welcoming warmth and softness that draws me to you, binding me in ways I never imagined. You’re everything to me, Francesca. You’re my light and life and reason for being here. You bring me joy where there was only existence; hope when there was only despair. I loved you that first day when you wanted to kiss me, but were too nervous to try, and have continued to love you every day since.

  Tears burned behind my eyes. That is . . . oh, Ben. That’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me. I love you, too. And I really messed up that first kiss, didn’t I?

  He laughed, and slid out of me, rolling on his side, tucking me against him, his big hands warm and comforting on my hip and back. Yes. But I greatly enjoyed your attempts.