The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  In the past couple of months, I’d more or less come to terms with the fact that being a succubus hybrid also meant being an unashamed cock-slut. This enlightening journey of self-discovery had been eased somewhat by the fact that Rans was also an unashamed man-whore. It was part of the reason the two of us worked together, and as far as I was concerned, anyone who wanted to get judgey about it could go take a flying leap at a rolling doughnut.

  All of which meant that when Rans recovered himself enough to untangle me from the headboard and roll me over on my back in the center of the bed, my only reaction was to let my legs fall open with a pleased hum of anticipation. He loomed over me, and I took a moment to appreciate the view. I’d at least managed to tousle him during our first two rounds of sex—and that had always been a good look on him.

  His hand cupped my cheek as his hips settled in the cradle of my thighs, the contact bringing a flush of warmth to my chest that had nothing to do with body heat. “Hell’s teeth, you look amazing like this,” he said.

  My eyes slid away from his at the words, even though they were a mirror image of my own thoughts about him. His hand kept me from turning my face to hide my expression, though.

  “No,” he told me softly. “Look at me. Don’t hide from me while I’m telling you how much I love you.”

  I swallowed noisily and wrenched my gaze back to his. His blue eyes were clear, and suddenly seemed very, very deep. My lips parted as he entered me, but no words came out.

  “See what you do to me, Zorah,” he said. “Don’t look away.”

  He couldn’t mesmerize me anymore now that I was a vampire, too—not that his powers had ever worked on me fully. Nevertheless, I stared up at him, trapped by his gaze.

  “Rans, I—”

  But his hips rolled against mine, the words cutting off in a gasp. In a moment of trepidation, I realized that I wasn’t ready for this kind of sex right now. Until recently, I hadn’t known this kind of sex existed. Which... probably sounded stupid. But all my post-pubescent life, I’d been a starved succubus hybrid, unaware that I was sucking energy from every sensual encounter with another person.

  I didn’t understand why they always ran away afterward. They probably didn’t understand either. But to my demonic nature, sex equaled nourishment, and there was never enough of either. I mean... I read books. I watched movies. I knew in a broad sense that there was supposed to be something more to intimacy, and that I was apparently a screw-up of the highest order when it came to relationships.

  Until Rans, though, I hadn’t been prepared for... this. I still wasn’t. Maybe I was making strides—but they had mostly been strides taken on the other side of the power balance equation. On the cruise ship, I’d successfully fucked Rans into acknowledging his fears and doubts about his ability to protect us from our enemies. Which... actually sounded pretty messed up, even in the privacy of my own thoughts.

  But the idea of being the one showing vulnerability rather than the one eliciting it was—

  Terrifying?

  Mortifying?

  Existentially threatening?

  All of the above?

  “I don’t know how to do this part,” I said, a bit desperately.

  His hand, still at my cheek, stroked over the skin of my temple. “I’m well aware,” he said. “And that fact doesn’t change or diminish my feelings for you in the least.”

  My eyelids fluttered as another perfect stroke filled me up. I struggled to keep my eyes open and fixed on him.

  “Why?” I couldn’t help asking. “Why, though?”

  I’d wondered since the first moment I’d realized he wasn’t going to dump me like hot garbage the first chance he got. I’d had theories along the way, none of which truly explained the situation to my satisfaction, and most of which had subsequently been debunked. I’d even asked him outright, but the answers he gave never quite seemed to compute inside my brain.

  The look he shot me now was helplessly, hopelessly fond. “Because I need you as much as you need me, Zorah. Haven’t you realized that yet?”

  His hips rolled against mine again... and again... and again. How was I supposed to think about serious relationship things when he was making me feel so perfect? My throat tightened, any words I might have wanted to say dammed up inside.

  Maybe he just means the life-bond, whispered the evil little bitch-voice that lived inside my head, ever so helpfully. He needs you, all right. He’d literally die without you, after all.

  My throat grew tighter.

  No, I thought angrily. I was so done with that ugly little voice of self-doubt and self-loathing. No, goddamn it. I’m allowed to have this. I’m allowed to have it mean something. If I’m about to get killed in a supernatural war, I’m allowed to be loved first!

  “I love you!” I gasped, holding that blue gaze even though my own vision was blurring. “I love you... I love you!”

  Rans lowered himself until I was sheltered close against his body, his lips brushing my ear. “Oh, my dearest heart. I know that. Just as you ought to know that I love you beyond all reason... beyond the bounds of life and death. Forever and eternally.”

  A hitching sob wrenched free of my chest. I was still crying when the feeling of him moving inside me tipped me into free-fall, the last of my emotional control shaking free as my pleasure crested. He held me through it, shielding me from the outside world until I could think again.

  “I don’t want to die,” I blurted against his shoulder. I was clinging to him, too far gone to dredge up the shame I should have felt at letting something that raw and open slip out.

  It was so pathetic... so utterly at odds with the badass person I was trying to become. I was supposed to be strong and fearless. A warrior laughing in the face of destruction. I should have hated that those words had escaped into the wild where someone else could hear them. But Rans only shifted on his elbows, freeing a hand to smooth over my hair, still sheltering me beneath him.

  “I don’t wish for us to be parted,” he said slowly, as though choosing his words with care. “But, Zorah... our souls are bound. If there’s anything at all to be found beyond this current life of shadows, I have faith that we’ll face it together.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, I nodded, my forehead sliding against cool, pale skin. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all this,” I told him in a tiny voice.

  “I’m not,” he replied without hesitation, rolling us so I was tucked against his side, my head resting on his shoulder.

  ELEVEN

  WE MADE LOVE until dawn lightened the sky beyond the window. Rans made good on his vow to have me in every way a man could have a woman, and his tenderness broke something in me, I was absolutely certain.

  Things that had been trapped inside me for as long as I could remember were leaking out. I didn’t like it. And at the same time, I also felt a sense of relief more profound than anything I’d known before. The contradiction was too difficult to deal with head on, so I hid in Rans’ arms instead.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet about your father’s return,” Rans observed as the sun breached the horizon. We were resting, both of us finally spent. His fingers ran up and down my bicep absently—a soothing rhythm.

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I asked, “What did you and he fight about, that first night after you met?”

  His slow stroking of my arm didn’t falter. “Why, you, of course.” The words were wry. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “For someone who’s been largely absent from your life, he presumes quite a bit regarding his right to speak for you.”

  “I imagine he’s upset that you turned me into a vampire,” I said. And that was the literal truth. I imagined he was upset, since it wasn’t as though he’d discussed his reaction with me directly. “Though I... feel like I should be more emotional about having him back,” I added reluctantly. “Physically back on Earth, I mean—and, y’know, mentally back, as well.”

  He was silent for a beat, considering. “You
’ve finally learned how to wall off your heart from him, it appears—at least to a degree. I’m not certain whether I should be relieved by that fact, or feel bad about it.”

  And... geez. How messed up was that? I’d been a fucking pro when it came to walling off my heart from the one person I could truly trust with it. Meanwhile, I’d tagged around after Dad for decades like a puppy desperate for attention, even if that attention came in the form of a harsh word and a rolled-up newspaper.

  Daddy issues, much?

  My longstanding compulsion to say ‘I’m sorry’ reared its head, and I quashed it. “How about neither of the above?” I said instead. “You can just accept that it’s part of my journey, I guess. Maybe it’s a good thing; maybe it’s a bad thing. Time will tell, assuming time is something we still have the luxury of, after the next couple of days.”

  He nodded, smoothing my hair back from my temple. Respecting my wishes, because apparently that was a thing people in healthy relationships did.

  Who knew?

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Though I’ll confess, this waiting is beginning to get to me—especially now that everything is more or less in place, with the exception of the principals. Ironic, I know, coming from someone who’s had centuries to perfect ‘waiting around for something to happen’ into an art form.”

  I traced a fingertip over his chest absently—an aimless, invisible design. “I’d suggest a Twilight marathon to pass the time, but the irony’s too much for me right now.”

  He snorted softly. “No thank you. I do, however, have a counterproposal involving a shower and some sleep. If Edward returns later today with Nigellus, there’s no telling how close on their heels Myrial is likely to be.”

  I shot him a jaundiced look. “Hmm. That’s not exactly a recipe for sweet dreams, you know. But you’re right, on both counts. Especially the part about the shower.”

  * * *

  Despite the dark circumstances, there was something primally satisfying about sharing my modest bathroom with Rans. And we did, in fact, manage to sleep afterward. Or I did, anyway, since the rising sun still sapped my energy, albeit to a much lesser extent than it had the first few days after my turning.

  Rans was already awake when I stirred several hours later, but he did at least look rested and well fed. Whatever we ended up facing, we’d be facing it while running at full power capacity. I could sympathize with his impatience, though. Once we’d checked in with Guthrie regarding his part of the preparations, there was nothing much for us to do. I couldn’t seem to settle.

  I ended up cleaning the house, which was ridiculous since A) I hated cleaning, and B) nobody really lived here anymore—least of all, me. In a moment of supreme irony, Rans left me to my pointless dusting and went out back to mow the overgrown early-autumn lawn, using the very same lawnmower I’d been intending to get out of my garden shed when I’d first stumbled over him, unconscious after a shotgun blast through the chest.

  “Okay, that was surreal,” I said, once he’d returned from his self-appointed task, smelling of sunlight and mown grass.

  “I remember that shed as being roomier, somehow,” he observed.

  “It was roomier... after you wrenched the door off its hinges,” I pointed out reasonably.

  “Ah,” he said. “Yes, I suppose that would do it.”

  I thought about calling Vonnie, and didn’t. I thought about calling Len, and didn’t do that, either. As evening gave way to night’s darkness, I was debating the merits of dragging Rans back to my bedroom for more sex, if only to keep my circling thoughts from consuming me alive. Of course, that was the moment when a faint shift in the room’s air pressure and a nearly inaudible popping noise had me whirling around, senses on high alert.

  Rans rose from the couch, wariness writ large in the tension of his shoulders as he took in the new arrivals. “Nigellus,” he said coolly.

  The demon of fate released his grip on Edward and my father before stepping forward. “Ransley. Miss Bright.” His dark eyes played over us, searching. “Edward conveyed your message, obviously. And while I can’t say this is the approach I would personally have suggested, I must nevertheless applaud its audacity.”

  I stepped forward, prodding at my feelings regarding Nigellus’ presence here. “I’m not willing to play the role of fugitive for the rest of my life. Confronting Myrial was my idea, though the details of the plan are a joint effort.”

  That ancient gaze centered on me, and I made myself hold it. I could tell that he’d taken in my newly undead status in the first instant after his arrival, filing it away for future consideration.

  “The line between boldness and recklessness is a fine one, Miss Bright. However, Myrial’s current course of action threatens to destabilize not just a single realm, but all three.”

  “Not to mention threatening to butcher the goose who lays your golden blood wine,” I added, unwilling to pretend that I’d forgotten exactly what Nigellus had done to Rans.

  His eyebrow rose sharply. “The goose and gander both, as it now appears.”

  “I’m not a keg of beer for you to tap,” I told him. “Neither is Rans, and neither is Guthrie.”

  Rans’ fingers closed on my upper arm, and I looked at him in surprise. But his gaze was for Nigellus alone.

  “You know my opinion on the matter, Nigellus,” he said in a hard tone. “But help me keep her alive through what is to come, and I’ll discuss things with you further.”

  Nigellus’ expression settled into unreadable lines. “A devil’s bargain, Ransley? Really—you do surprise me.”

  “Rans—” I began, but his grip on my arm tightened incrementally, halting the words.

  “If you like,” he agreed. “Ensure Zorah survives, and I will agree to revisit the subject with an open mind.”

  The demon made a small huffing sound, part surprise and part irony. “Centuries of experience, and sometimes I fear you’ve learned nothing. I am already here, Ransley. It’s not as though I came to watch from the sidelines as your enemies crush you. But I am a demon, and since you’ve offered me such a bargain, of course I will accept it.”

  I consciously relaxed my jaw to keep my teeth from grinding together. The worst part was that if Nigellus’ presence meant that Rans and I somehow survived this, I knew I’d be too damned grateful to begrudge the demon another crack at his argument for turning the tithelings into vampires.

  My father shifted restlessly. He seemed taken off-balance by the exchange, but also self-aware enough to be irritated by the fact.

  “Should we really be standing around here flapping our lips when that bastard Myrial is on the way?” he asked.

  He probably had a point, but there was one more important question that needed to be asked.

  “What are you even doing here, Dad?” I demanded. My eyes moved to Edward. “And you! Why didn’t you two stay in California, or go back to Atlantic City? Somewhere safe, anyway. I don’t want either of you caught up in this fight!”

  “I’m still your father, Zorah,” Dad snapped. “And I don’t appreciate being treated like a child.”

  I opened my mouth to remind him that he’d barely been able to feed himself a few weeks ago, but Edward cut me off.

  “Forgive me, Miss,” he said, “but I daresay you’ll need my assistance with what’s to come. And your father is quite capable of making his own decisions now that he’s recovered.”

  “But—” I tried, only to be cut off by Nigellus this time.

  “His presence may be useful,” said the demon.

  “Damn straight,” Dad muttered.

  “He’s not a fighter!” I insisted. “He’s just a regular, mortal human—”

  Nigellus looked at me steadily, and the words died in my throat. Because... holy shit. My dad wasn’t a regular, mortal human anymore. He was demon-bound to one of the most powerful creatures in the three realms—someone who could bring him back to life from the most horrific conceivable injuries. If Nigellus didn’t want my father to be k
illed... he couldn’t be killed. Period.

  “I still don’t want him here,” I finished lamely.

  “And I don’t want you here,” my father snapped. “Why not let the rest of them deal with this?”

  “Because it’s my fight!” I nearly shouted. “Mine! Not yours!”

  Dad’s fists clenched. “Sasha might have been your mother, but she was my wife!”

  Words caught in my throat. I’d never heard him express emotions that passionately regarding much of anything... much less my mother.

  “Enough.” The command came from Nigellus, and I hated that I could feel it settling in my bones, taking control of my will. It was only a momentary flex of his power—just enough to snap the band of tension running through the room. “Myrial will make one final attempt to sway key members of the Council in my absence before coming here,” he continued, “but that won’t take long, and I daresay it won’t be successful. I presume you do not wish the confrontation to take place in this house.”

  “No,” Rans said. “We don’t. Zorah, call Guthrie and let him know it’s time to move.”

  I was being managed, and I knew it. I also knew that if I let myself dig my heels in and continue the fight with my father, I risked delaying us and ending up with a supernatural battle taking place in my living room, with our side totally unprepared for it.

  “Fine,” I said, stalking off to the kitchen so I’d be able to talk to Guthrie on the phone without a bunch of other voices jabbering in the immediate background.

  Guthrie picked up on the third ring. “Zorah?”

  “Nigellus is here,” I said without preamble. “It’s time to move.”

  “The van’s loaded,” he replied promptly. “I assume you’re coming to me and not vice versa?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Nigellus has been to your place before, so he can transport Edward... and my father.” I had to push that last part out through gritted teeth. “Rans and I can fly there. Oh, and you’d better warn Albigard we’re coming, since I have no idea if Fae and demons automatically try to kill each other on sight, or what.”