by Aja James
As the reinforced steel box rose upwards, Seth did not need floor indicators to tell him they were rising from the sixty-sixth floor toward the no-public-access Chrysler Crown.
Back in the mid nineteen hundreds, there used to be a snazzy Cloud Club that occupied three floors from the sixty-sixth to the sixty-eighth, but it closed down in nineteen seventy-nine due to various reasons, not the least of which was that the upper-most floors of the building had never been designed architecturally for luxury and entertainment. There were some half-hearted attempts to revive the establishment or something like it, but all met failure mysteriously. There also used to be a viewing gallery on the seventy-first floor, but that too closed to the public in nineteen forty-five.
Seth had a feeling that the destination of this elevator was going to exceed all expectations.
Soon enough, the polished metal door slid open soundlessly and revealed a breathtaking view.
A magnificently opulent, gigantic Great Hall rose thirty feet from the floor to meet at the intricately decorated point of a vaulted dome, surrounded on all sides by floor to ceiling triangular windows, alternating with ribbed and riveted stainless-steel cladding, radiating outwards in the world-famous sunburst pattern.
Someone, Seth suspected his host, had managed to combine the vertical space of three floors into one, and spruced the place up with an ingenious interior decorator without anyone the wiser. That someone, he also suspected, was the true owner of the Chrysler Building, though public records assigned that honor to the Abu Dhabi Investment Council—ninety percent of the ownership, anyway.
The two female adornments at his side closely escorted him into the massive, brightly lit hall, and he noticed that the floor beneath his feet was made of Italian marble. There was no clutter of ostentatious statues, fountains or paintings to distract from the elegant beauty of the architecture itself, but what embellishments were there were of the highest quality and taste.
As they approached the far end of the hall, he could see his host sitting on a well-appointed throne, Chinese in style, but not in construction. Pure gold furniture would surely clash with the rest of the cool, modern décor.
Around the throne sat a wide circle of lounges and deep-seated sofas, all black and white with splashes of red in the silk pillows or detailing. Lying, sitting on, loosely standing by and reclining on the floor before those luxurious pieces of furniture were a dozen or so scantily clad, highly sexualized, outrageously good-looking young men and women.
His host was holding court, apparently.
Or perhaps it was just another day in the life of the infamous New England vampire queen.
As the Consul of the Pure Ones, one of the Pure queen, Sophia’s, inner circle, Seth had previously crossed paths with Jade Cicada.
But only peripherally and briefly. This was the first time he’d ever ventured into her domain for a private interview.
After all, an unarmed Pure One venturing into a den of vampires was like a lamb thrown into a pride of hungry lions.
Vampires coveted Pure Ones’ eternal blood above all things, insatiable, aggressive predators that they were. For this reason, Dark Ones dominated over Pure Ones and humans for millennia before the Pure Ones successfully overthrew their rule over four thousand years ago.
Seth knew that if the majority of vampires had their wish, they’d become the rulers of all living things once more.
His escorts brought him into the circle of dissolute bloodsuckers, stopping a few feet before their queen. He could feel a dozen pairs of curious black eyes roaming up and down his body, as if to strip him bare to their voracious view. He could also sense the heightened state of their sexual arousal, as well as hear it, when a couple of females and even a male, began to touch themselves and moan loudly.
“Silence,” the regal vampire queen commanded in a soft voice that instantly muted all sounds from her court.
Then she regarded her visitor without words, casually sitting back in her throne, a wine glass dangling precariously from her fingertips.
Red wine, of course.
But Seth wouldn’t bet it was actually of the grape variety.
He returned the vampire’s steady gaze and conducted a thorough assessment of his own.
No one would argue that Jade Cicada, as she was known since her rebirth, was not a sublimely beautiful woman. To every race, to every breed, human and non-humans alike, she was spell-binding.
Her large, almond-shaped eyes tilted slightly at the corners in that mysterious Asian way, long, straight lashes fringing both upper and lower lids, delicate frames for the startling deep blue irises and large black pupils within.
She had a classic oval face, with high cheekbones and a pointy little chin. Wisps of reddish-black hair caressed her temples and beside her small ears while the rest of the thick, silky mass was gathered intricately into braids on top of her head, most of the length falling freely down her shoulders and back.
If his knowledge of Chinese history served him well, Seth guessed that her coiffure dated back to second or third century China, late Eastern Han or Three Kingdoms period.
Though vampires and Pure Ones enjoyed a long existence if they remained whole, their lives spanning centuries if not millennia, many retained the habit of their earliest years, which were also their formative years. If this was true of the vampire queen, then Seth would put her age at around one thousand eight hundred years.
Significantly less than his own age, but after the first millennia or so, one stopped counting.
Like Seth’s twin escorts, Jade was also dressed in a body-hugging ensemble, though the slightly transparent silk flowed over her skin in caressing folds. She was covered from head to toe by the simple long black dress, yet Seth felt his breath quicken as if she were lounging before him entirely naked.
The semi-transparent silk slid teasingly over her curves, and though she was slender in her limbs and waist, her breasts, hips and buttocks were generously round.
She wore nothing beneath the delicate black sheath.
He could see the pointed tips of her high breasts, the aureoles large and dark. He could see the tantalizing groove that bisected her taut, but infinitely flexible torso as she sat with her upper body curved to one side, her lower body curved to the other in a voluptuous S.
And then she shifted her thighs as if opening herself further to his perusal, encouraging him to continue. When he gazed upon the neat dark triangle there and just a hint of pink at the juncture, his eyes flew back to hers.
She smiled enticingly, knowingly at him, and he fought to break the spell.
For Goddess sake, where was his fabled self-control and disinterest?
Most days, he still felt married, and Seth was a one woman man. Once he loved and gave himself, all other women ceased to exist.
He’d watched his human wife grow old from afar, watched his small daughter grow into a lovely young lady, marry a kind, diligent man, and raise a family of her own. He’d watched their progeny come into this world and leave it as the ages went by, and he’d protected and guided them from the shadows as much as he could.
He was simply not interested in finding a Mate. And he loved his wife too much to even look, much less stir, at the charms of another woman.
But today, as he beheld the vampire queen, he felt himself stir.
More than just stir.
He was veritably roasting in the flames of desire.
*** *** *** ***
Jade regarded the Pure male with blazing curiosity and instant, sizzling arousal that exploded from her center to the tip of every extremity.
She wanted him.
Because her Gift fed upon sexual pleasure, she indulged in extravagant orgies quite often and unabashedly.
Vampires weren’t shy about such things. In fact, they reveled in battle, plunder, blood and sex.
But it had been a very long time, perhaps never, that Jade had felt such overwhelming desire for a male.
Mine.
The primitive beast in her growled low and possessive, as sharp fangs dripping with saliva punched through her upper gums.
Interesting, Jade observed as if apart from herself.
She swirled the blood wine in her hand and took a sip to relieve the ache of her quivering fangs, continuing to regard the Pure male unblinkingly and intensely, peeling away his clothes with her iridescent sapphire blue eyes.
She was being an abominably poor host, she knew, treating her high-ranking visitor with dismissive silence. But if she were honest with herself, she was at a loss for words.
The sharp contrast between millennia of disinterest and disenchantment, with this sudden bone-deep blast of need and want and ravaging longing, made Jade feel as if she was torn in two, not in her right mind. Better to get a handle on things first before opening her mouth to speak, for she feared her first words might be:
Fuck me now. Fuck me hard. Fuck me deep. So deep you become a part of me. So deep I possess you entirely. Don’t you dare stop until I tell you to.
That would simply not do.
Jade prided herself in being one of the more cerebral of bloodsuckers. She’d been a Pure One after all, and a human before that. The shamed Pure One who loved but did not receive in return.
She huffed a silent breath.
That was not how she died and was resurrected.
Verily, she was thankful to have been reborn a Dark One. She pitied her Pure incarnation. So weak. So restricted. So alone and powerless. She’d been a pawn back then, but now she was the chess master.
She was the most powerful vampire queen in the world.
But what to do about her inconvenient fixation for this male?
She must have him.
She will have him.
“Shall we adjourn to my private chambers, Consul?” she suggested in her low, sultry voice.
But it was no mere suggestion. It was a direct, incontrovertible order.
“Of course, my lady,” her guest murmured, wise to follow her lead.
Jade should perhaps have reprimanded him for not using more esteemed honorifics when addressing her. But honestly, she never cared for titles.
Power spoke for itself, and she did not need its trappings to remind her of her own dominion.
Besides, she liked what he called her.
My lady.
As if she were his. Just an ordinary female belonging to an ordinary male. Made extraordinary by his claim.
Her personal guards began to follow, but she sent them a look that halted their progress.
She wished to be alone with her…prey.
She would not share any of him with anyone.
He followed at a respectful distance as she led him down the long hall to her quarters, his steps barely heard on the hard marble beneath their feet.
He moved so quietly and gracefully for a male of his size, she noted as two servants opened her chamber doors, allowing them inside before closing the heavy wood behind them.
Seth Tremaine had the build of a warrior, not a scholar or diplomat, even though the latter was his role among the Pure Ones.
Six-feet-five at a guess, over two hundred and forty pounds of sturdy bones and steely muscles. Tousled dark, wavy hair and warm gray eyes. A wide, sensuous mouth and a strong blade of a nose.
Most alluring of all was the shallow dimple in his chin, as if punctuating in an exclamation mark the gloriousness of his fundamentally masculine beauty.
She wanted to stick her tongue into that dimple.
Lick it. Bite it.
She wanted to sink her fangs into him everywhere.
“Queen Jade—” he began.
But abruptly cut himself off when she casually shrugged her shoulders loose of the black sheath she wore and let the filmy material skip lightly down her body until she was completely nude before him.
Naked but not vulnerable.
More powerful than ever, in fact, if the way his breath suddenly left his chest in a heavy huff were any indication.
“Do continue, Pure One,” she said languorously as she sat in front of her large, rosewood vanity and began to take the dozens of pins out of her elaborate coiffure.
“What brought you to a hungry hive of bloodsuckers unaccompanied and unarmed? I have heard praise of your levelheadedness and wisdom, but this particular foray seems ill-advised.”
He seemed to take a couple of deep breaths before he spoke.
Was he as affected by this electrical awareness between them as she?
She darted him a sideways glance.
He certainly played things extremely cool.
“A member of the Elite was ambushed recently by ancient, well-trained vampire assassins,” the Consul began again, his deep voice sounding steady and…unaffected.
It goaded her like nothing she’d ever encountered before. The irresistible dare to affect him.
“If you think I sent them,” she interrupted, “then your safety here is much in question, is it not?”
“It is because I believe you had no part in the plot that I am here,” he replied. “Though we’ve not formally instated a truce, we have never considered the New England vampire hive our enemies. Your rule has provided the territories a stability and peace not equally enjoyed elsewhere around the world.”
She quirked a smile at him in her vanity mirror.
“Such lavish praise, Consul,” she murmured. “You do know how to turn a girl’s head.”
The tiniest crease appeared between his bold, elegant brows, even as a faint blush crept up his neck to the unyielding battlements of his cheekbones.
The crease deepened, as if he were disgusted with himself or confused over the heat in his skin.
How long had it been since a female flirted with him? How long ago had he allowed himself to notice such flirtation?
Jade would bet her entire kingdom that it had been a very, very long time.
He continued determinedly on, “Vampire attacks have been escalating in Greater Boston. I know that you have sent your own enforcers to punish lawbreakers as we are also bringing them to justice—”
“You mean, hunt vampires dead,” she interrupted again. “How you Pure Ones like to euphemize the truth.”
“We do not hunt your Kind without cause,” he retorted softly, evenly.
Reasonably.
She had the unreasonable urge to unsettle him.
“True enough,” she agreed just as sedately, and stood as the last braid on her head unwound and tumbled down to join the thick silky mass that ended beneath her generously rounded peach of a rear end.
With one heavy skein of hair casually draped over her shoulder to cover her right breast, the left exposed fully with her dusky, pebbled nipple on scandalous display, she approached him slowly, dressed only in the long, reddish-black mane.
“You Pure Ones are not slaves to bloodlust as we are,” she said, her voice low and husky.
He seemed to step back from her even though his body had not moved. But she sensed him trying to erect a wall or a barrier between them.
He could try, she thought with relish. But he wouldn’t succeed.
She would tear down the world around them until he was entirely bare and vulnerable before her, a willing sacrifice at her altar.
She licked her lips with anticipation. She could almost taste the richness of his blood and seed on her tongue.
“You don’t crave pleasure as we do,” she finished, standing directly before him, their torsos a hair’s breadth from touching.
His breath quickened and his pupils dilated as he stared down at her, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder.
“You do not know us as well as you think, my lady,” he said in that quiet, steady voice. “You do not know me.”
She stared deeply into his eyes for a long while, watching the thin gray ring around his enlarged pupils thread with silver, glinting hypnotically in the dimmed lighting of her chambers.
“What did you come here for, Pure One?” she finally a
sked, feeling herself sinking like a drunken stone within his stormy gaze.
“An alliance,” he replied. “On a trial basis, if you wish. We would share resources when needed. Intelligence too, as we receive it.”
“What you speak of is considered blasphemy among my Kind,” she retorted, though her tone remained mild, indicating that she did not care much one way or the other.
“When the vampire nobles in my jurisdiction find out—and they will find out—I fear my popularity will take a nosedive.”
“But you have never cared for popularity,” he stated firmly, as if he knew her so well despite this being their first intimate meeting.
“What do I care for, then?” she asked, curious about what he might say.
She wanted desperately to know how he perceived her.
His mercurial gray eyes probed her steadily, and she felt as if he could see into her very soul, shriveled and starved though it was.
Finally he replied, “Ecstasy. That is what you crave and need.”
Her eyes glittered startling blue as a smile spread slowly on her lips.
“How would you propose I get what I want, Pure One?” she all but purred.
“You are here to form an alliance with my hive. I stand before you craving and needing ecstasy, as you pointed out yourself. How will we each obtain that which we desire?”
He blinked rapidly, a distracted flutter of thick, bristly lashes, as the implication of what she said fully dawned upon him.
“You…you…want…me,” he rasped out as if the very notion was inconceivable and ridiculous.
Did the male not know how magnificent he was?
Her powers drew from one of the strongest energies on earth—sexual energy. He radiated that energy in wave after rolling wave. His very nearness drowned her in greed and desire, molten lust and blazing fire.
Her smile spread wider and she beamed beatifically at him.
She finally broke their staring match and slowly wound around him, circling behind his back, her hand raised as if to touch his body.
