by Michele Hauf
Rev, on the other hand, had not gone out in search of blood, or another faery to provide ichor. He didn’t need it. He had her. He functioned well enough, padding about her home and dancing with her in the moonlight. Wearing clothing as protection against her dust? They were both fooling themselves. When in the dregs of an ichor high, Rev became aggressive and she let him stomp about, punching walls until he'd worked the edge off. Mornings he slept, the sheets pulled over his body and head to keep out the sunlight.
She wondered, as he slept through the rising sun, if she should peel away the spread and expose him to the light. But then she remembered his captivity. The harsh lights had induced UV sickness and a permanent sun aversion. The sun would burn him, as it did with some vampires who were in tribes who didn't have a high immunity to the sun, but much faster.
If she did let in the light he’d be angry with her. Would it make him angry enough to leave?
She didn’t want him to leave. She had allowed this to happen. She'd stood back and watched a heroic man succumb to something she had given him, to fall into her cruel enchantment.
They’d yet to make love.
She knew he resisted, for a while at least. He said he wanted to prolong the foreplay, to know her completely. Truth was, the nasty addiction would not allow it, not let him see beyond the immediate and forceful desire for satiation.
It had taken him months to get clean after biting her once. He'd been biting her many times a day.
She'd done this for love, to claim her Intended. Love wasn't supposed to hurt or be wicked. Love should feel good. And she'd never felt more terrible. Zen sidhe, she was not. It was as if her Intended was a pre-payment for the bad karma she indulged now.
Her phone jingled and Rev nudged her away so she could answer. He wandered over to the bed and lay back, stretching out his arms. Lost in a haze.
Bree vacillated on answering—all she wanted to do was make Rev's world right—and then when she saw Blu's name on the screen, she answered, “Hey.”
“What’s up? Party in a few days. You ready?”
“Uh…”
“Bree? What’s the deal? I’m sensing your Zen sidhe vibes have fallen off the scale. You still seeing that vampire?”
She would never lie to her best friend. “He’s here right now. Blu, I…have a problem.”
“He’s bitten you.”
She wouldn’t bother asking how Blu knew that. “I let it happen.”
“And he hasn’t left since?”
“He saved me from the wolves again. He was brave and injured so he needed a fix. How do I save him? I care about him, Blu. I…I think I could love him.”
“You can’t love someone who uses you to feed his addiction.”
“It’s not his fault. It’s the dust in his system. It won’t relent. It makes him feed upon me like—"
“Like some kind of longtooth tic. Oh, Bree, this is not good for you.”
“Or him! Listen, Blu, he’s a good man. I want him to have the information I have on the blood sport and Fernando Degas. I want to make it right with him and help him with his tribe.”
“Give me the info and we’ll act on it.”
“No, it’s got to come from Rev. He needs the credit for this.”
“Sounds like he’s too fucked up to do his job.”
“Don’t tell anyone, most especially, not your husband because he’s Rev’s boss. If he knew Rev was in a bad way he might kick him out of the tribe, or at the least, lose all respect for him."
"Creed's an understanding man," Blu said.
"I know. He's the best. You two were meant for one another. But I don't want to get Rev in trouble. Please, Blu, you gotta help me.”
“I don’t know what you can do beyond getting him out of your home, and now. He needs to dry out.”
“Maybe you know some vampires who can come get him? Someone who wouldn’t tell?”
“It can’t be anyone from his tribe. They’ll narc on Rev to gain position in the tribe. What about some faery thugs? Didn’t you used to have an elf walk you home nights when you were being stalked by a hunter?”
“Yeah, Erte. That’s a good idea, Blu. If he can get Rev out of my home—"
“And freaking chain him up until he can come down. He needs mortal blood, and lots of it. He also needs a keeper to watch he doesn't sneak out to an ichor den. You know it’s gotta happen, Bree.”
“I hate myself for this. I just…oh Blu, I love him. He really is the man I want to spend my life with.”
“A tragic coupling destined for further tragedy.” Blu said it dramatically, but without any judgment. "You really buying into this Intended thing?"
“You are always the one to wax about the joys of vampire love.”
“I am, aren't I? And I used to hate bloodsuckers with a passion. Still don't care for a couple in the hubby's tribe. Okay, so my girl’s in love with the very last man on earth she should love. Tell me that you’re sure?”
“I am.”
“Then we gotta figure things out. You call your elf. I’ll see what I can find out about vampire detoxification methods. And pray my hubby doesn’t ask what I’m up to. Bree, you’re testing me on this one.”
“Sorry. You still love me?”
“Always. Talk soon.”
Bree hung up and wandered over to the bed to slip into the vampire’s embrace. His hair was tousled and the stubble on his cheeks and jaw had grown thick. He looked like he’d been on a bender, which was dreadfully true.
“Talking about me?” he wondered softly. His touch, so gentle, always belied his true intentions. The addiction’s attentions. “Missed you.”
“Me too, but I gotta get out of here for a while. I need my daily vitamin D to survive. It’s a faery thing. I've some errands to run.”
He tugged her into an iron embrace. Indeed the Hyde side of him acted out when coming down from the high. He was a little bit rougher, a little less caring. “You don’t want me?”
“Rev, I want you. I want to make love with you. To bond with you. But you don’t want to do anything more than bite me.”
“Biting’s good. You taste good. Love my pretty sparkly faery mine.”
She kissed his chin. “You’re good, Rev. A good man who should have never gotten involved with this faery.”
“Faeries taste good. Thought I was yours?” He grazed his tooth along her jaw. Bree pressed carefully against his mouth, for to struggle would only make him more forceful. “Just a little bite?”
“Rev, I need to get groceries. Can you wait until I get home?”
“Who needs to eat?”
“I do. I can't survive on a liquid diet like you.”
“No, need you now.”
As his grip tightened, she managed to slip from his arms and rushed to the door. He followed closely and slammed a palm against the open door, but Bree got half her body outside before he could close it. Bright sunlight beamed in. The vampire blinked and shuffled away.
“Don’t leave me,” he moaned. “I won’t hurt you. Bree!”
The agony in his voice made her want to hug him close and swear they would be good forever. But not like this. Not when the dust made him less than the man she knew he was.
“I’ll be back soon,” she promised, and slammed the door shut on the man she wanted to love, but needed to push away.
The faery bitch had gone out in the daylight knowing he couldn’t follow. What was she doing? Denying him? Damn it.
Rev swiped a hand across the sheets, seeking to imbue his palms with lingering faery dust. Anything to bring on the loopy tingle. It took so much now. And he needed more.
Growling, he ripped the pillow apart. Feathers scattered. He kicked the bed and paced the floor.
“What the hell is wrong with me!” he shouted to the walls. “I’m stronger than this.”
He knew what was going on. Faery dust infected his veins like a monster gnawing at his bones. It ate at him, starving him and increasing his hunger for more.
> Yet he’d overcome once. He could do it again. But that would mean denying himself Bree.
Bree was everything. She was the light in his darkness. The soft in his steely hard world. Her voice glided across his aches and soothed them away. She giggled like the only sunshine he could ever know.
He’d been forceful with her. So cruel. And she had given him what he’d demanded because—well, because she feared he’d rip her apart if she refused.
He would not. But he couldn’t know if the desire for dust would force him to such an unsavory act.
“I have to get away from here.” How long had he been here? Days surely. Weeks? What was he doing? He should be working the case. Getting the information needed— “She keeps denying me. What she won’t give me is my freedom.”
He bashed a fist into the wall, but the rough bricks did not give. Blood dripped from his knuckles. Rev kicked the wall and shouted.
It’s what he needed. To drown himself in mortal blood and wash away the faery dust. To not think about the delicious enchantment eddying through his system, making him warm and woozy, and wondering where she had gone.
When would she return?
Had it been hours? Days?
He rushed to the door but winced at the bright daylight. It could have only been minutes.
His mind was no longer his own. He had to leave, and now, before he lost and brought Bree down with him. There was only one way to go about during the day. He’d need protection from the sun.
Erte Medalknyght would give the vampire credit. He was making an effort to put distance between himself and Bree. Not the greatest effort. Walking about with a sheet pulled over his head and sunglasses wasn’t going to get him far. And his rambling gate stumbled him against the building wall so many times the vampire had taken to beating the brick and shouting at it.
Erte sighed. “Idiot dust freak.”
Bree was a good friend and he did owe her one for the time she’d fixed him up with the stripper. She’d been hot, and they’d had a fabulous time of it before they’d both gotten utterly sick of the other and had mutually ended their sixty-day sex fest.
Hey, an elf took it when he could get it. And Erte got it a lot. Smirking, he pulled the SUV over to the curb behind the vampire. The vehicle had been specially designed, all steel replaced with titanium and no iron at all. If a sidhe wanted to exist in this mortal realm, everything he owned had to be modified.
He palmed a titanium pistol loaded with wooden bullets. They wouldn’t kill the vampire, but if he could plug him in a major artery, it’d slow him down enough to nab the creature and dump him in the back of the car.
The vampire was a big one. Broad of shoulder and tall. Not exactly Bree's type. But then Erte realized he didn't know her type. Chicks were always attracted to the big, studly, and the forbidden.
"Man, is that guy forbidden," he muttered. "Bree really got herself in deep this time."
The vampire punched the wall again, taking out a section of brick.
“Should have brought Silver along,” Erte muttered, thinking the seven-foot troll would have loved this mission. He cocked the gun and stepped out of the vehicle.
Another body along to help would have only exposed Bree's mistake. She wanted this kept quiet. Didn’t want the vampires to learn one of their own was addicted. Weird that she cared, but Erte didn’t question. Sabrina Kriss was good stuff.
“Hey, buddy!”
The vampire wobbled along the wall, a blood smear from his knuckles leaving a trail. Not cool for this neighborhood. He swore at Erte, suggesting he do something nasty with his mother.
Erte aimed for the neck, and fired. The vampire swung about, the sheet falling from his head. He groped for the bullet stuck in his throat. With his other hand he tried to block the sun from his eyes.
Not the nicest way to be put down, but necessary.
He approached the vampire and kicked high, landing under the jaw. The move rocked the vampire's head on his spinal column, which successfully knocked him out cold. He fell forward, which Erte appreciated. He had merely to bend and catch the big guy over a shoulder.
Ten minutes later, he secured the vampire in his own home, chained in the concrete basement. Mortals would be brought in daily. The longtooth could feed until the dust had cleared from his system. If not, Erte would have to bring out the saber and slice off his head. He hated dust freaks.
Chapter Ten
“You chained him up? But he needs to go to work. His leader will wonder what’s become of him.”
“Bree.” Erte laid a hand on her shoulder. The poor thing shivered and the skin around her eyes was dark. She looked as crazed as the dust freak. That happened when a faery enslaved a vampire with her enchantment. In turn, the swoon from the bite was a powerful seducer. “Stay away from Rev Parker. I’ll double the mortals to three or four a day. He’ll be over this in no time.”
“But he needs to get important information to his superiors. I have to give it to him.”
“Bree, if you go to the vampire now, don’t come begging to me when he attacks and kills you. On second thought, I won't have to worry about that, because you’ll be dead.”
She nodded, accepting, but the shiver in her shoulders made Erte shake his head. Poor girl, she was as addicted as the longtooth.
He knew what was happening. It was all good. And it sucked like no amount of dead dog could ever suck.
Bree must have hired the elf to kidnap him and take him home. Chained in his own basement. How humiliating. Yet, the mortals were serving a purpose by purging his system of dust.
And of Bree.
He could feel his pretty, sparkly faery slip further from him with every drop of mortal blood he consumed. He hated it. He was losing her. But rationally, he knew it had to be like this.
Could he ever have a real, honest relationship with Bree?
He wanted that. He needed that.
No, you don’t need it, that’s the addiction talking. You would like it. That’s all.
No, he genuinely wanted to be the man for her. Intended? He was in for the ride because he did love her. At least he thought he did. Hell, he needed to think beyond the dust!
A third mortal woman was escorted down the stairs. Rev strained at the chains. Her initial reaction was to scream, but he was skilled at persuasion and it took less than a minute to settle and entice the woman into his arms.
That he was being kept like an animal reminded of his imprisonment in the sporting warehouse. He’d brought this upon himself this time. No one to blame but himself.
“Bree,” he murmured as he sunk in his fangs. “Come back to me.”
Slammed against the wall below her loft, Bree’s teeth chattered from impact. The vampire Fernando Degas had returned to torment her. Not only did he collude with the wolves, he also pimped the sidhe into selling him their ichor. He, in turn, sold the dust to addicted vamps.
Why hadn’t she the courage to tell Rev about this immediately?
Because she'd thought with that information, Rev might try to buy some of the dust from Degas. That she would be leading him back to his worst. She’d been stupid not to believe Rev was stronger than that.
Besides, she had led him to his worst.
“You are pissing me off, faery.”
“Yeah? Doesn’t take much, obviously.”
He slammed her again. “You’ve been talking to my people, stepping over the line.”
“So drain my ichor like you do all the other faeries and be done with me.”
He hissed and snarled, revealing fangs.
“Go on, dust dealer, I know you want a bite.”
“I’m not an idiot like your boyfriend. I wouldn’t let a drop of ichor down my throat. This ends right now.” He released her and stepped back.
Bree wasn’t sure why he wasn’t pummeling her, or stabbing her with iron, but when the tall figures behind Fernando walked into view, she let out a groan, guessing the man wasn’t about to get his hands dirty. He’d leave t
hat for the two hulking werewolves.
Unchained felt good.
Rev's head was clear. It had only taken five days of intensive blood donations. But it would take a lifetime to stay clean. Rev wondered why a paranormal sort of AA didn’t exist. They could call if DFA—Dust Freaks Anonymous. He'd be the poster boy for possibilities since he'd now beat the addiction twice.
He knew well enough that was a crock. He'd never actually beat the addiction the first time around. He'd risen above it. Now, if he wished to stay sane he must remain vigilant about staying away from the dust.
If being dust-free meant feeling powerful and clear again, that was a great start.
Time to focus on bringing down the sporting warehouses. He’d called Fernando, hoping to convince him to go to Bree and try to get the information from her, but the guy wasn’t picking up. Too late he remembered something Bree had said about Fernando. He was involved with the wolves? It didn't make sense, because he'd thought Fernando an honorable man, but he was inclined to put more trust in Bree.
Yes, even after she had swept him into her enchantment. He couldn't blame her for that. He should have been stronger.
So it was up to Rev. Two donors this evening had only temporarily assuaged the blood cravings. He knew well the hunger would remain strong until he got into a routine.
“I can do this.”
He knocked on Bree’s door, but it swung inside; the latch hadn't been secured.
That wasn’t good.
Stepping inside, he scented the acrid odor of dust. It smelled off, not sweet and attractive like he was accustomed to. It didn’t appeal at all. That was either very good or—
“What the hell?”
He raced across the flat to Bree’s bed. Sprawled upon the rumpled purple silk, lay a tattered faery. Her wrists were encircled with iron manacles yet she was not chained to anything.
“Oh, Bree.”
He couldn’t touch.
He had to touch.
His fingers shook over the scatter of tangled pale hair that sparkled with her innate dust.
