by Ann Lory
“My life is complicated, little one. Don’t try to understand why I do what I do.”
Alyssa’s hands curled into tight fists. “At one point, it seems you loved your parents ‑‑”
His sharp voice cut her off. “I still love my parents.”
“Then why do you keep me from seeking justice against D’Angel and the others? If you loved your parents as you say you did, do, you’d understand.”
With the blink of an eye, he was beside her. “I’m trying to keep you from joining your family prematurely. She will kill you.” He grabbed her chin in his hand.
She’d braced herself, but his touch was firm, not cruel.
“Alyssa, she’ll kill you.” His voice was a whisper, but the intensity in his eyes brought her up short. She could see genuine emotion there, but it was so out of place with what she’d experienced with him that she didn’t know what to name it.
“Why are you helping me, then?”
“Because, for the first time in many years, you make me care.”
His words rocked her off balance. She stopped breathing; everything around them went silent. His eyes became heavily lidded, and his lips descended. Slowly, she moved toward him as her eyelids fluttered down in dreamy anticipation. She felt his fingers brush her throat ‑‑ and she remembered her family, their blood like a dark plague on her hands, their throats ripped open. A brutal reminder.
Shoving herself away, she rose to her feet. “No.” Her voice shook as she looked down into his ebony eyes. “I must have justice.”
“You want vengeance, not justice. You want to play God.”
His words were like a slap in the face, and she let anger wash over her. She was safe if she was angry; she could hide behind that. “What do you know of God, vampire? He washed His hands of you centuries ago.”
That cold look entered his eyes. Funny how she hadn’t realized it hadn’t appeared as much of late until it returned. She couldn’t stop the shiver that raced up her spine, winding round her heart. He stood in a quick, fluid motion, towering over her.
“My name is Damian. Yes, I am a vampire, and perhaps God did turn from me, but it is you I am trying to save.” He left her.
She sank back down onto the couch, her face in her hands. Save her? Did she need saving? Did he? For a moment, he’d seemed just as lost as she was.
Looking out the window, she saw his dark form as he walked along the beach and wondered if either of them had a prayer, or if it was too late. Had they had been doomed to unhappiness from the very beginning, or could they save each other from the destruction of the past, from the events that had so dramatically laid out their future?
Chapter Six
He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to make mad, passionate love to her or hurt her. Above all, he wanted desperately to shake some sense into her.
He stalked across the sand, cursing his damn emotions. He’d held them at bay for so long, but this woman had come into his life and wreaked havoc on everything he’d worked so hard to attain. Not to feel, not to want, and never to need.
Stopping just where the foam from the surf couldn’t reach him, he breathed deeply of the night air. A breeze wafted over his face, bringing with it the scent of the ocean, and its inhabitants. Yet he could still smell that particular flow of blood and hear one heartbeat even now.
Damian looked back at the house and saw the silhouette of Alyssa at the window, watching him. She appeared so fragile, so vulnerable, but she was strong. Her heart and will were like iron.
He glanced away, hating the fact that he admired her so, yet relishing her strength at the same time. She despised him; still he couldn’t help but be completely enthralled with her. It was insane, he should send her away, but he feared that if she kept searching for D’Angel, the little fool would get herself killed.,
He heard the mother and child before he saw them. They were his neighbors, who lived a couple of miles up the beach from him. They didn’t know him, had never seen him, but he knew them. Damian was always familiar with his territory and who was in it,
The two of them didn’t seem to notice him as they ran along the waves, laughing and giggling. He felt hunger beating at him, knew he needed to feed, but he’d never do so from the innocent. And, from the sound of a third heartbeat, it appeared the woman was pregnant.
Damian stayed motionless and observed them for a moment, his own heart aching. It had been centuries, long, terrible centuries, since he’d felt that carefree, that alive. And the one who had made him relive such emotions was even now scowling down at him, no doubt wishing every imaginable death upon his head.
There was a whisper of sound behind him. Damian whirled, hissing at Vincente as the other male materialized before him. His long-ago friend was tall, but not as tall as Damian. In fact, although D’Angel liked her offspring tall, those who were of Damian’s height were difficult to find, even in this day and age ‑‑ but of course Vincente came from a time long past.
The other vampire bowed regally, but the motion was cold, his blond hair sweeping briefly over his eyes. “Damian.”
He nodded slightly in return. The mother and child were almost upon them. “What are you doing here?”
Vincente licked his lips. “A quick bite sounds good before conversation, no?”
Damian put himself between the females, who had apparently just noticed the men. Damian slowly walked backward toward them, his gaze never leaving Vincente’s.
“Get your daughter out of here now,” he commanded the woman.
He heard movement as she picked up the toddler and began to run, but Vincente moved to block them. Damian thrust his body in front of Vincente as the woman’s scream rang over the beach. He grabbed the other vampire around the throat, then tossed him away, further from the mother and child. He spared a glance at them, his gaze meeting both their eyes.
“Go now; neither of you will remember any of this by the time you reach your home.”
The woman ran, clutching tightly to her daughter, who was wailing.
Vincente’s smile was vicious as he rose, brushing sand from his clothes. He sneered. “Bastard.”
“What do you want, Vincente?”
“D’Angel sent me for the girl.”
Damian growled deep in his throat. “I told her everything was taken care of.”
“D’Angel doesn’t believe you’re thinking clearly; she sent me to do what you failed to do.”
Rage pumped through Damian’s body; he could feel his fangs explode into his mouth. “You won’t harm her, and neither shall D’Angel.”
The vampire seemed shocked. “You dare to go against her wishes?”
Damian didn’t answer immediately. His thoughts raced; not once in all his existence had he so openly defied D’Angel. Always, he had protected her, fought for her, even when he knew she was wrong. But this time he would not stand aside. God help him; Damian hoped he was strong enough to defend Alyssa.
His eyes met Vincente’s. “I will not let anyone harm the girl.”
The other vampire snarled. Fangs flashed, exposed in blatant challenge. “I’d never have believed it if I had not heard it from your lips, seen you speak with my own eyes.” He laughed. “You are a fool, Damian.”
“Perhaps, but you will not touch her.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?” Vincente lashed out at Damian’s stomach with razor-sharp claws.
Damian deftly avoided the swipe, feeling the wind and speed of it breeze by him. He launched himself into the air, the other vampire following; then, spinning, he caught Vincente around the neck and swung with his free hand, ripping his talons through the man’s chest.
Vincente shrieked and managed to break the hold Damian had on him, flinging Damian away. Their growls filled the night; then they clashed again, each of them delivering vicious blows as they maneuvered deliberately and strategically.
Damian’s claws raked a hair’s breadth from Vincente’s throat, but the other vampire swung at the same time, striking Dam
ian across the face, leaving burning gashes in his wake. Damian’s head snapped to the side; instantly, he twisted his body so that the next blow sliced through his shoulder instead of his torso. The next moment, he was spinning wildly from the sky toward the ground below.
Damian hit hard, grunting with pain. Then he felt her presence. Looking up, he found Alyssa standing on the beach, clutching her silver stake in her hands.
Alyssa! Dear God, no! He glanced at Vincente, who was grinning with victory as he hovered over them, obviously pleased at finding his new target readily available. He hurtled toward Alyssa.
Her eyes locked with Damian’s; he could see the fear in her eyes, sense that she knew she would die unless she trusted him. Without pause, she flung the stake, and Damian caught the weapon, his flesh immediately searing at the contact.
Alyssa was surprised when another vampire suddenly appeared before Damian, but what was more stunning was Damian shielding the mother and daughter who’d been playing in the surf. Her heart turned over.
The conversation between the two vampires didn’t appear pleasant. Then the man’s fangs had gleamed, his eyes glowing bright. When he’d snapped his teeth at Damian, recognition slammed into her, his smile screaming through her memories.
He had sported the same evil grin when he’d killed her mother.
She reeled; her heart pounded. One of the monsters who had killed her family was here. Right now. Anger and purpose surged through her body.
Turning from the window, she raced through the house to Damian’s chambers, relentlessly searching through her bag, then tearing the room apart, cursing Damian for hiding her silver stake from her so she or he wouldn’t somehow “slip” and manage to stake the other. Finally, she found it in the back corner of the closet, tucked under a blanket.
She ran from the house to where the males fought high in the sky, oblivious to her presence. She barely held back a scream as she watched the vampire strike Damian, and Damian’s long body plummeted and struck the ground. He seemed to sense her; she found herself caught in the swirling pools of his dark eyes even as his fear for her swept through her mind. Alyssa’s gaze followed his to the other vampire, who smirked down at her, triumph in his eyes. Then he was a blur racing toward her.
Alyssa knew she wasn’t a match for the creature. She turned and briefly met Damian’s pain-filled eyes; then, without a second thought, the stake had left her hand and appeared in his. Time seemed to slow down to mere increments. Damian came to his knees in one motion, aimed, and launched the stake.
The descending vampire screamed as the weapon found its mark, plunging into his heart. His eyes were wide with disbelief as he grappled with it in midair. Then time sped up again, and he exploded into a cloud of dust, the stake falling with a heavy thud at her feet.
Alyssa shook and reminded herself to breathe as the ash and detritus gradually cleared, some of it settling over her skin. She tried to wipe what was left of the vampire from her arms and face, but knew from experience that only a shower would thoroughly cleanse her. Then the realization of what had just transpired, that she had nearly been killed, struck her hard and swift.
She wildly surveyed the area around her, then focused on Damian, who was walking toward her. With trembling hands, she retrieved her weapon; then, she brought the weapon up between them, the point resting over his heart as he halted before her.
He looked down at her, seemingly unsurprised by her action. She pressed the stake against him with more force, the sharp tip parting his shirt, and tried to ignore the heat that rose from his chest, the odor of his burning flesh. Their eyes locked, and she knew it was now or never.
He wasn’t stopping her. Why wasn’t he stopping her? Instead, he seemed resigned, as if he welcomed death. Alyssa stared long and hard at his face, taking in every line, every detail. Four long marks marred his handsome face, and blood trailed down his arm from the wound on his shoulder. She glanced down and saw the red fluid absorbed into the sand where it dripped from his fingertips. His hands were badly burned.
When she brought her gaze back up, his eyes didn’t waver from hers. He stood patiently, waiting for her decision. There didn’t seem to be any scorn or fear in his expression, but an odd tenderness as he gazed upon her.
She hated to admit it to herself, but she cared for him. He’d not only slain the one who had taken her mother, the beast who would’ve taken her life as well, but Damian had also saved the woman and child.
With a hopeless cry, Alyssa wrenched the stake away from his chest and watched as astonishment lit his dark eyes. “I can’t kill you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but she knew he could hear every word. “Thank you for saving my life. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I misjudged you.”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer. Spinning around, she retraced her steps to the house, her thoughts in turmoil. At the door, she faced him across the distance, her heart full of despair and confusion.
He held out a hand. “I only want to help you.”
She nodded and smiled sadly. “Yes, I know that now.” She made a gesture of acceptance. “Come; I’ll tend your wounds.”
Damian’s face registered shock, then hesitation, as he strode across the sand. When he reached her, he closed his fingers around hers, and she led him into the house.
Chapter Seven
Alyssa knelt before Damian as he sat on the floor of his chambers. She set a bowl of warm water beside her, soaked a dark cloth, then wrung out the excess water. Damian was covering his shoulder with another cloth, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
Damian looked exhausted, but of course he’d lost a lot of blood from the deep shoulder wound where the other vampire had slashed him. She watched him try to remove his shirt with one hand, his left arm useless. Setting aside the cloth on the rim of the bowl, Alyssa lifted her hands. “Here, let me help you.”
His eyelids lowered briefly; then he leaned back against the doorframe between the bathroom and the bedroom. She pushed the black silk of his shirt gently over his shoulders and down his arms, trying to avoid touching any of his wounds. She had to force herself not to stare at his chest, the defined muscles of his stomach and arms. She swallowed hard, and it sounded loud.
Finally, she slipped the material off and tossed it aside. Retrieving the washcloth, she began to clean his shoulder so she could see the extent of the damage. She winced once the blood was wiped away. She could see down to the bone. How could he stand the pain?
“You don’t have to do this, Alyssa. The wound will heal on its own.”
She knew it wasn’t something she had to do, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to stop her. The thing was, she needed to help him. She wanted to touch him, to show that she appreciated what he’d done for her, to let him feel a caring touch for just a moment.
“How well did you know him?”
His gaze sought hers. She saw a brief flash of regret in his eyes, and just as quickly, it was gone. “We grew up together.”
She wondered if they had been close before they’d become vampires, but she didn’t want to press the issue and bring up possibly unwanted memories. She was suddenly sorry for the action he’d taken on her behalf.
Changing the subject, he looked away from her. “I have to go to ground for a couple of days; my wounds are severe.”
She frowned. “Yeah, I guess you would. I forgot about that part with you all.”
He smiled slightly, “The soil is like a healing agent. I know it must seem a terrible thing to you. I once thought so, but I’ve grown accustomed to it over the centuries.”
Alyssa nodded, eyeing the jagged flesh of his face and shoulder, the burns on his hands and chest from the silver stake. “What do you need me to do?”
He shook his head. “There is nothing you can do. I only need the soil of my homeland.” As he spoke, the stone floor at the foot of his bed opened, revealing deep, rich soil.
“Is it from Italy?”
Damian gave a slight nod, then tried to rise, but fel
l back with a muttered curse, eyes closed. Alyssa scrambled up, studying his exhausted and pained features. He looked so weak.
“I know what you need, but you have to promise not to take too much.”
His eyes snapped open at her softly spoken words, a look of patent disbelief on his face. “No.”
Her fingers glided over his cheek in a soothing gesture. It surprised her how the action seemed so natural, how it felt so right to simply touch him, offer him comfort.
“You saved my life, killed the one who murdered my mother. I want to help you.”
His eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Alyssa, for the pain a former friend caused you. Alive, he was a good man, but his actions as a vampire had no excuse.” Gently cupping her face, he raised his head so that his lips were mere inches from hers. His eyes were intense. “I promise you, Alyssa. I would never harm you.”
Her thoughts were grim as she swept her hair to one side, exposing the curve of her neck, trying to push the faces of her family aside for now. She gasped when his arm circled her waist and a hand tunneled into her hair, bringing her against him. Her heart pounded, but she kept her fear at bay. She had to do this for him.
Just before she felt the touch of his lips, she shivered at warmth of his breath whispering against her throat. She always seemed to long for his touch as she never had anything in her life. He made her yearn, made her want him and only him. Somehow he’d bring her the peace she’d been searching for.
“Thank you, Alyssa. I know what this means to you.”
His mouth scorched her skin. A swirling fire of need burned through her when his tongue stroked over her rapidly beating pulse; then there was the blazing heat of piercing pain as his fangs penetrated her flesh.
Her eyes closed and her arms wound round his neck as the pain flowed into pleasure. She molded her body to his, fought against the moans of delight that threatened to burst from her throat as pools of ecstasy pulled her into their drowning depths.
