Her legs trembled as he moved his kisses to her inner thighs. His tongue teased her soft skin and then, he bit.
She gave a cry of surprise and pain, but it faded away and left her in the red-tinted, pleasure-soaked world of the vampire bite. It was a connection that could to take their prey to hell or to heaven. And heaven was where he took her. He was inside and outside her; everywhere at once, pulsing, touching, stroking, caressing. She could feel both his desire and his satisfaction coursing through her veins, igniting her passion. As the sensations became more intense, things flashed behind her eyelids; pictures too fast for her to see and words too soft for her to understand. As always she felt the desire to catch them, to see, to know, as if some ancient secret was buried in them. She groaned loudly, urging him on, her instincts screaming for more; more contact, more pleasure, more blood.
Without conscious thought she pulled away from him and he let her go. She stumbled back, dizzy with euphoria and alcohol, and fell to her knees. He moved to her quickly and caught her in his arms, concern burning beneath the lust in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
She gripped the collar of his pullover. Her voice sounded husky and foreign in her ears. “I will be.”
She tore his shirt, pinned him to the floor, and bit into his chest. He gave a cry of surprise, and no doubt pain as her dull teeth pierced the skin. His hot, spicy blood filled her mouth, but it didn’t satisfy her thirst, only intensified it.
He rolled with her, so that he was on top. She struggled briefly as he shifted to remove his pants and slide himself between her thighs. Her legs opened readily for him, and she thrust with her hips, encouraging him, even as her open mouth sought the bleeding wound. He thrust into her at the same moment that she clamped on, and her body arched with a cry of delight. Lost in a crimson tinted world, she didn’t even notice when he bit into her shoulder.
Moments crashed over one another in a carnal cascade of ecstasy. The sounds and images returned, closer than before and, just as it seemed she might understand, her body rocked with the climax of release and she cried out, severing the connection.
The world slowly came into focus; the ceiling with exposed rafters, the bench, the soft white rug under her back. Next to her lay Jorick with his shirt torn open, panting and rubbing at a smear of crimson on his chest.
She licked her lips and tasted blood. She’d bitten him. Again. She was momentarily horrified and wiped her mouth, as if it could hide what she’d done.
“I’ve told you it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You say that but…” she turned away and stared at the curtained bed. “When that happens it’s like I’m someone else, and then I come back to myself and have to deal with the consequences.”
He pulled her to him. She resisted for a moment, but his soothing hands coaxed her surrender and she relaxed against him. “Isn’t all lust that way?” he asked teasingly. “Is it really that you become someone else, or that you’re finally free enough to be yourself?”
Her cheeks flushed and she sucked her bottom lip. It still tasted like him. “You’re saying I’m blood thirsty?”
He nuzzled her neck, and licked the bite he’d made, as if sweeping away the last of the crimson evidence. “More like a wanton pleasure seeker.” He laughed and held up the shirt she’d torn as proof. “There’s nothing wrong with that, given the right circumstances.”
She met his gaze and teased him back, “What would the wrong circumstances be?”
His dark eyes grew darker, and his voice lost its humor. “If it’s with the wrong vampire.”
She looked away as a memory popped to the surface. A starving creature skulked in the corner of the prison cell, little more than skin and bones and matted red hair. It stared at her with hungry eyes, and then it struck. She fought at first, and then… and then the world fell away and she’d come crashing back with blood on her lips to find Jorick snarling and trying to murder Verchiel.
“It wasn’t like that,” she said sharply, as if Jorick had forced the memory on her. “Malick—”
“Yes. I know. Malick manipulated you and then sicked the poor, starving clown on you and you bit him back in self-defense or—” he broke off. “It doesn’t matter.”
She rubbed absently at the scar Verchiel had left. “It obviously does. To you. He apologized a long time ago and already said he was starving and didn’t realize who I was.”
“I’m sure,” Jorick muttered darkly.
She pushed on, “Malick only arranged it to punish you for not following orders.”
Malick. The master hung over them like a dark shadow that tainted everything.
Jorick sighed deeply and pulled her closer. “Nothing is tainted, not you or me or this.” He motioned with a hand to indicate the two of them. “I love you.”
She buried the side of her face against his chest and inhaled his deep, musky scent. “I love you, too.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then swept to his feet. “Come, little one. I may be used to sleeping in strange places, but even I won’t forsake a bed for the floor.”
It was an hour later when Katelina slipped from the bed and tiptoed out of the bedroom in search of a bathroom. It wouldn’t be long before the sun was up. The sky outside already had a thin, colorless quality along the horizon. Soon all the protective plates would be over the windows to block the burning sunlight and shield the house’s occupants. She could already see some of the island’s employees struggling to put them in place.
When she was finished, she slipped through another door to a broad balcony. The last of the night breezes blew her long hair back from her face and tried to tell her stories of others who’d stood on the sandy beaches and bathed in the surf.
She surveyed the lush lawn below and traced the line of palm trees that marched down to the beach. The whole place was almost too perfect.
“That’s why it’s expensive,” a voice volunteered from the shadows. Katelina turned to see Verchiel step out onto the balcony wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants that sagged too low for her comfort. His ridiculous red hair was wet and the faint smell of soap wafted from him. She looked away quickly from his naked chest, something she’d seen far too much of on the beach in the last week.
After the earlier conversation, he was the last vampire she wanted to see, as if his presence made Jorick’s complaint more credible. Regardless, Verchiel leaned on the railing next to her. He scanned the beach scene and something strange passed across his face. What could ruffle his affable veneer?
“What?”
“It seems… I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been here before.” He shrugged and stepped back, his usual smile on his face. He nodded toward the humans hurriedly fastening up the last of the metal plates. “The sun will be up soon. Since I don’t fancy a third degree sunburn I’ll leave you to it.”
He started for the door and Katelina asked absently, “Don’t you miss the sunrise?”
“Nah. I’ve already told you I don’t remember anything from before Kateesha turned me, including the sun. Besides, I have a snazzy tropical sunrise calendar in my apartment at the Citadel, so I can see one every day if I want.” He gave her a wink. “Speaking of pictures, you might catch the sunrise for your photo collection, but don’t stay out too late or Jorick will worry.”
And then he disappeared.
Chapter Two
Katelina woke to rain, as if the island mourned their leaving. She packed reluctantly and stuffed a pair of disposable cameras on top. Jorick came up behind her and pulled her against him. His lips trailed along her neck and he pantomimed biting her, then settled for planting a kiss. He nodded to the cameras. “Did you get enough pictures to satisfy your mother?”
“I only filled one. It’s hard to take pictures where you guys don’t look like vampires. And how many night shots do I want? I think I got a nice sunrise this morning, though.”
“That’s good. I’d ask how we get the photos to her, but I assume you know.”
> “You get them developed—if you can find somewhere that still develops photos. I would’ve gone digital, but Mom’s such a tweep about technology. She’d never figure out how to download them.”
“If you say so.” He drew back and she turned to see him standing shirtless, his long hair around his shoulders. “This isn’t worth a photograph?”
“If you want—”
He caught her hands before she could grab the camera. “I was teasing. Come, we’d best join the others.”
Jorick pulled on a shirt and escorted her to the living room where they found Wolfe and Sadihra. Wolfe was tall with long chestnut hair and cold gray eyes, while Sadihra was short and plump, her blonde hair usually worn in a bun. They were both Scharfrichter, or more accurately Wolfe was a Scharfrichter and Sadihra was a Scharfrichterin, the difference between male and female.
They were Germany’s equivalent of the American Executioners, elite vampire police, and it was their job to bring Jorick and the others back to Munich, Germany, to testify about what had happened in the Raven Queen’s temple.
Wolfe gave them a sharp nod. “Good morning.”
“Good evening,” Katelina corrected out of habit.
Wolfe surveyed her with general disdain, then turned to Jorick. “You’ve packed?”
“Yes, our luggage is waiting.”
“Good. I’ve called ahead and everything is prepared. The cars will meet us at the marina and the pilots will be ready by the time we reach the airfield.”
Sadihra released Wolfe’s arm and surveyed the spacious room. The protective plates had been removed from the windows and the outdoor floodlights gave the illusion of daytime. Rain streaked the glass and the swaying palm trees threw mysterious shadows. “It does seem a pity.”
Something that might have been a smile flickered over Wolfe’s lips and disappeared. “Yes, but we have duties to perform. We’ve already delayed for a week, and both the Höher Rat and the Kugsankal will be getting anxious.”
Sadihra’s shiver was slight but noticeable and Katelina understood. The Höher Rat was Munich’s High Council, and she doubted that the Scharfrichterin was in a hurry to see them. She’d willfully abandoned her post and disobeyed orders when she left Munich to travel with Jorick and the others, and now she would have to pay for that.
“I’m sure they are.” Sadihra glanced toward a curtained door that led to the dining room. “I believe breakfast is ready.”
Sadihra was right. The long wooden table was already set. There were glasses of blood and three crimson filled decanters for the vampires, and two plates of food, one for Katelina and one for Oren’s new human Etsuko.
Jorick snickered as they took their places. “I doubt he’d call her ‘his human’. She was sort of foisted upon him.”
Katelina scowled at the egg topped pile of noodles and vegetables. “I love how everyone acts like she’s an object.”
Jorick caught Katelina’s hand and brushed his lips across it. “No one said she’s an object, only that Oren wasn’t excited about her company.”
Katelina couldn’t argue the point. Etsuko had taken to heart a tarot reading and decided that the ‘red string of fate’ bound her to Oren and that it was her duty to ‘help him’. Whether she meant to help him get over the murder of his wife, Jesslynn, and their children by Malick’s pet Executioners, or some other thing, Katelina couldn’t guess. Either way she was sure it would end badly.
As if summoned, Oren strode through the door, Etsuko on his heels. Her hair was pulled up in its usual bun and, despite being on a tropical island, she wore a pink kimono. Katelina guessed that her luggage was nothing but kimonos.
Etsuko nodded to them, and quickly took her place. Without a word Oren swept up his glass and downed half the contents. It had barely hit the table before Etsuko refilled it from the decanter.
Jorick nodded to the pair and teased, “You could learn something, little one.”
Katelina’s answer was a cold stare.
When the vampires finished their breakfast, Wolfe announced that departure was delayed due to stormy seas. Katelina was still eating, so Jorick gave her a kiss and said he wanted to speak to Oren. The lion-maned vampire followed him out of the dining room, and both she and Etsuko let them go.
The other vampires followed, until only Katelina and Etsuko remained. As Katelina chewed, she thought about the people who’d been out in the storm removing the metal shields from the windows. She hoped they got paid well.
Etsuko finished the last of her meal, then primly folded her napkin and laid it aside. She sat with her back straight and hands in her lap. The moment Katelina laid down her fork, she said, “I hope Katelina-san has had a good week?”
“Yeah. It’s too bad it’s over, even if there were no cabana boys.” Etsuko blinked back at her, so she added quickly, “Did you have a good time? I didn’t see you on the beach very much.”
“I have had a lovely time. Katelina-san is correct. I did not go much to the beach. Oren-sama does not care for the sand.”
“Don’t you like it?”
Etsuko looked thoughtful. “I am afraid that before I came on this trip we did not visit the beach very often, though Japan has many beautiful beaches. We did go twice a year; Goshujin-sama owned a small private beach. They are lovely for a day’s picnic, but I cannot think of what to do on it day after day. One would become spoiled if they visited it always and then it would no longer be a holiday.”
Katelina saw the logic, but it was still odd. “So what did you do?”
“On the first night Oren-sama and I walked the beach, as Katelina-san knows. And after that we remained mostly at the house. I have almost finished my—what would you call it?” She made a motion like sewing. “Needlework?”
Her smile was genuine and Katelina tried not to groan. Etsuko was in paradise and she was embroidering? What was wrong with her? “You enjoy that?”
“Very much so. I have decorated many kimonos for Goshujin-sama’s wife.”
“Who is Gosh-whatever?”
“Goshujin-sama. I think it translates to master in English. It was the one you called Shinobu-sama, the head of the Tsukino clan. All of the Tsukino clan’s humans belong to him. He is the one who gifted me to Maeko-sama. I suppose it would be fitting for me to also call her Goshujin-sama, but she bid me not to, as she is hoping that Oren-sama will soon claim me, instead.”
The ownership angle was too casual for Katelina. “You don’t mind all this claiming stuff? Like you’re a piece of luggage?”
“That is the way it is. I was raised to be a human of the Tsukino clan, and that is what I am.”
So they raised their own slaves? That explained a lot. It also meant it would be harder to liberate Etsuko, since she was brainwashed, but Katelina was determined to try, if for no other reason than it was wrong for her to accept such treatment.
“You’re not with the Tsukino clan anymore. We don’t do things that way.”
Etsuko tilted her head. “Don’t you, Katelina-san? Are you not Jorick-sama’s marked human?”
Katelina unconsciously rubbed the scar above her right collar bone. It was a bite mark with a small cross cut beneath it; Jorick’s mark. It was an antiquated vampire law that humans had to be marked by their masters, no doubt created so they could be tracked by their unusual scar, and so there was proof of who a human belonged to if there was a debate.
Belonged to. Like a head of cattle or a prized pig. The mark was little more than a brand, and Katelina suspected it had other subtle meanings attached to it. Just as Jorick had done last night, vampires bit their partners when they coupled with them. That was where the vampire’s true pleasure derived, rather than from the physical act alone, and Katelina suspected the mark was also used as proof of mating. A symbol that they’d shared the vampire’s most intimate embrace. Another example of sex and slavery.
“Is Katelina-san feeling all right?”
Etsuko’s question pulled Katelina back to the present. “Sorry. It isn�
�t like that with Jorick and me. We’re equals.”
“How can a human ever hope to be equal to her immortal master?” Etsuko covered her mouth. “Katelina-san must forgive me. Perhaps Jorick-sama’s ways are different.”
Katelina managed a watery smile and thought, They damn well better be.
The storm calmed, though rain still fell. They hurried through it to board a yacht at the dock. It was the same craft they’d arrived in, and Katelina imagined it would take them back to the glittering city and the private airfield where Wolfe’s plane waited to whisk them to Munich.
Micah, a bald vampire who sported a brown goatee and tribal tattoo down one side of his face, dropped onto the bench in the main cabin. He wore a tank top that hugged his toned physique and showed off the ink on his arms. Dressed like a biker, he even had motorcycle boots and a wallet chain. “We finally get to the god damn beach and some joker cuts it short. What the fuck? How can you call a week a fucking dream vacation?”
“It’s better than nothing,” chirped Loren from the seat next to him. The boy vampire looked about sixteen, with dark curly hair and brown doe eyes. Perpetually trapped in the nineties, he wore a t-shirt with a flannel shirt thrown over it. The left sleeve was tied in a knot under the stump of his arm. His limb was one of the many casualties of Oren’s attack on the vampires’ citadel.
“We can always come back,” he added and patted Micah’s shoulder.
The bald vampire snorted. “Sure we can. You got a private plane hidden up you’re a—”
Katelina cut him off. “Do you always have to be so crude?”
“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t stand the way real men talk?” Micah crossed his arms. “You’ve spent too much time with The Guild’s pussified dogs.”
Jorick growled low and Verchiel pushed off of the wall he was leaning against. “Pussified dogs?” he asked pleasantly. “I’m sure you meant delightful gentlemen, right?”
Children of Shadows Page 2
