Interrupting the haze of bliss, her skin prickled.
“Vampire!” she gasped into his mind, since his lips wouldn’t let her speak. He released her mouth and let her half turn.
Jason Bell stopped under a nearby tree. He was confronting a single human who wielded a wooden stake. Sera could see the shape of it perfectly clearly in the moonlight. And she could see that the human was Ferdy.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “I can’t let this happen—”
“It’s too late. They have to reach their own conclusions.”
They were talking, although she couldn’t hear the words. Then Jason spread his arms wide, an act of surrender. Ferdy stared at him, then dropped the stake. Jason’s arms fell to his sides, and Ferdy stepped forward to embrace him.
Sera found she was smiling. “Really? As simple as that?”
“Not simple,” Blair said. “He’ll have to watch his parents sicken and die. But they’ll get some part of their son back.”
“Will you help him? To be good?”
“I’m not good,” Blair said, clearly affronted. His arm tightened at her waist, and she found herself running so fast her feet didn’t touch the ground. “Except at sex,” he added. “Over the centuries, I’ve become quite good at that.”
He said other things too as he ran, things guaranteed to set her blood on fire, even if it hadn’t already been desperate for him. The things that hurt—from her father’s assault, to her guilt at leaving her friends to deal with the aftermath—faded into a mere background to her need.
Impossibly quickly, they reached his house. As they raced up the steps, the front door flew open for them and slammed again behind them. Before Sera could even draw breath, she was flattened against it, with Blair’s weight pressing into her and his mouth devouring hers. Desire thrummed through her, urgent and irresistible. He stopped kissing her only long enough to pull her top up over her head. Her bra was unclipped and thrown on the floor after it, and her jeans quickly followed.
She’d been working on his fastenings and shoved at the leather to get his trousers out of the way, but it seemed neither of them could wait. She stood on tiptoe, desperate to have him inside her, and without taking the time to get rid of all his clothes, he lifted her, and she pushed down, and suddenly he was inside her, shocking her, filling her, and nothing, nothing in the world had ever felt this good.
Once inside, he paused to kiss her mouth. She opened for him, welcoming his tongue and teeth, kissing him back with abandon while she moved on him, tugging at his shirt. She pulled it up and over his head, and while his arms were engaged, he pinned her to the door with his body, thrusting upward so that she cried out with the pleasure. The smooth, cool skin of his back and shoulders undulated to the caress of her hands.
Somehow, he managed to shove at his trousers and step out of them, for, his arms around her once more, he turned away from the door, began to walk with her along the passage. She wrapped her legs around his waist. His every movement was bliss inside her. She listened to her own panting breath and moans of pleasure as she pushed herself slowly up and down on him. His mouth found her breast, raising the pleasure another notch.
A candle sputtered into life as if of its own volition, but Sera was too far gone to care. She fell backward onto the bed with Blair hard on top of her, pushed as far inside as he could get, and she cried out again with the fresh shock of sensation.
For the space of a heartbeat, he gazed at her. Then his lips parted to show his fangs, and she moaned in need, pushing up against his exciting weight. Blair bent to her throat and bit. She gasped in pain, clinging to him in silent plea as her blood rushed into his mouth. He moved inside her, thrusting to the rhythm of his sucks.
Sera writhed with him, drowning in sensuality. As his mind opened up, his pleasure overwhelmed her, driving her onward. He drank her blood and fucked her, and she screamed with joy. Holding him, caressing him, she bucked with him until she fell over the edge of bliss. He tore his mouth free of her wound, licked it with trembling tongue, and fell with her.
“Now tell me I’m history,” he said in her mind.
“I’ll tell you anything you like if you just promise to do that again—”
“Promise? I’m doing it already.”
“Oh God…”
****
She woke to the sound of her phone ringing. Without opening her eyes, she felt for it and unexpectedly found it on the pillow beside her head. Memory rushed back: last night’s battle and last night’s love.
“Hello,” she croaked into the phone as her body flushed. She opened her eyes, looking in vain for Blair. His bedroom was amazing, though. She lay in a four-poster bed with open red-velvet curtains. Beyond them, she could see Georgian furniture, wood paneling, and slightly dusty paintings.
“Sera? It’s Jilly. Blair texted to say you were okay.”
Blair could text? “Good,” she said faintly. “Everything okay there?”
“Yes. We told the police we’d just been watching the fight, and then someone crashed through my bedroom window.”
“On the second floor? They didn’t think that was strange?”
“Probably. But they could see the broken window. They charged Smith with assault, though I told McGowan you probably wouldn’t go through with it.”
No, she wouldn’t. She didn’t want anything more to do with the bastard. Her throat, the throat her father had squeezed so mercilessly, constricted. But at the thought of him, a whisper of emotion brushed her mind, an acknowledgement of defeat, a sense of shame that almost amounted to apology. Nicholas Smith, trying to communicate with her.
She slammed her mind shut. For what he’d done, there could be no apologies. But she realized something else, finally and irrevocably. She didn’t need her father and never would. She was stronger than he; she had the love of loyal friends whom she cared for deeply, and he couldn’t hurt her. She wouldn’t let him.
But the silence had stretched too long. “Sera?” Jilly prompted.
“Um, how is McGowan? He must have seen too much.”
“Let’s say he’s a bit more—open than he used to be.”
“Melanie okay?”
“She’s fab. Everyone is. Even I will be when I get my bedroom window fixed. I don’t suppose you’re coming in today, so I wanted to tell you that—”
“Not coming in? Of course, I am.” Sera peered at the watch still bizarrely on her wrist. It was 9:30 a.m. She and Blair had made love for hours, and then, obviously, she’d slept for several more. “Tell me what?” she demanded suspiciously.
“Ferdy’s just been in. Gave us a nice, fat check.”
“Bloody hell! Really? Why?”
“He said you solved the vampire problem and stopped him from killing his son. Who’s already dead. Jason’s resigned from C & H, by the way. They caught his financial shenanigans, but they won’t cause a scandal by charging him. What’ll happen to the other vampires? The ones who survived?”
“Blair says they’ll disperse now, go their own ways. Ailis and Sebastian will take some away and try to teach them how to behave in their new state. Some will die, and some will learn how to survive. Some might even keep their jobs, but if you’ve ever fancied working in the banking industry, now might be a good time to apply.”
Jilly snorted. It might have been a laugh. “I’ll tell Jack.”
Sera’s answering grin faded. “On the other hand, Blair believes none of the new vampires will exist forever. The Founder’s blood is too diluted in them.”
“Either way, there are more of them than there used to be,” Jilly said with an audible shiver.
“They’re not all bad,” Sera said.
There was a pause, then, “No, they’re not all bad.”
Sera grinned. It felt like another victory. “I’ll be in soon,” she promised, breaking the connection and rolling out of Blair’s luxurious bed.
She found her clothes on a velvet-upholstered chair and hastily pulled them on. She’d make ti
me for a shower at home. She left the bedroom and let her senses find Blair. He sat in the sitting room, wearing fresh jeans and a black T-shirt, reading a newspaper. A mug of coffee stood at his elbow.
The mundane setting for so exotic a creature made her smile. But when he lowered the paper, her smile faded into a mixture of ache and excitement. Even after a night of excessive sex, he could still make her pulses race with one look.
He pushed the mug toward her, and she came and took it. He made good, fresh coffee too.
Lowering the cup from her mouth, she said, “I’m late for work.”
“I know.” He watched her take another gulp, then, “Are you coming back?”
“Do you want me to?” she asked lightly.
He held her gaze. “Yes. Tonight and every night. Live with me here.”
Her heart beat and beat. “But I need the flat at Serafina’s,” she blurted.
His lips quirked. It wasn’t quite a smile. “And the real reason?”
She opened her mouth, smart words already bubbling to the surface.
“Truth,” he said harshly.
Sera closed her mouth, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. They’d saved each other’s lives last night, had done things they shouldn’t have been able to do because of sheer feeling. She couldn’t ignore that; she couldn’t run from it. Something peculiarly wonderful happened to her with Blair, and whether or not she fled in the end, they really did owe each other truth.
Without meaning to, she sank into a crouch by his chair. “You move too fast, Blair,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you a week ago.” And you’re a vampire. The unspoken words hung between them, a justification and an accusation. “I don’t know you now. Jesus, you’re three hundred years old. I feel as if I’ll never know you. I thought I had you pegged: a hedonist with odd, charming flashes of conscience, and then I saw stuff, and Phil told me stuff, that made me realize—”
She broke off as his fingers tangled in her hair. The ache grew stronger. He said, “We both hide. Don’t you think the seeking might be fun too?”
“Wanting to die isn’t fun!” she burst out.
He held her head steady as he gazed into her eyes. “I don’t want to die,” he said deliberately. The words echoed around her mind, seemed to seep into her body, spreading warmth and pride and something powerful she began to recognize as happiness. She, Sera MacBride, had made a difference—and such a difference!—to this amazing being. Unable to speak, she turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm. She’d never heard his telepathic voice so soft and intense. “It’s a dark place I’m never going back to… Sera, do you love me?”
Did she? Scary, exciting, beautiful thought. She’d never imagined she could feel like this for anyone. It hadn’t even crept up on her. It had hit her like a thunderbolt, shaken the foundations of her life and passions, and God help her, she liked it.
She wasn’t blind to the gift of Blair’s honesty. The ache inside her that was at least half gladness grew stronger. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve nothing to compare this with.”
“But I’m not history.”
She smiled into his fingers, then covered them with her own and rubbed his hand against her cheek. “Oh no,” she murmured. “You’re not history.”
His lips curved into a smile. Her breath caught all over again, so before she threw herself into his lap, she released him and jumped to her feet, setting the neglected cup back down on the table. She needed to move, to run all the way to Serafina’s just to release the emotion that seemed ready to burst inside her. It was either that or end up back in bed with Blair. She had the feeling whole weeks of her life could disappear like that if she let them.
“I have to go,” she said breathlessly, and under his knowing, predatory gaze, she walked quickly toward the door, where, struck with an idea, she stopped and spun back toward him.
“Blair, would you consider a job at Serafina’s? A sort of special consultant?”
His eyebrow twitched, betraying surprise. Then, contemptuously: “I don’t do jobs. I’m a vampire.”
Of course. It shouldn’t have hurt. Like all men, he just wanted relationships on his own terms. She nodded as if it didn’t matter—which it probably didn’t—and left the room. The gloomy hall allowed in very little daylight, only a fine line under the front door.
“Sera?”
Already grasping the door handle, she glanced back. He stood, leaning his shoulder in the sitting room doorway, watching her. His face was unreadable.
“Yes?”
“I’ll consider it,” he said and walked back inside.
Not like all men at all. Not like any being she’d ever encountered among the living or the dead. And suddenly, that too was part of the fun. She found she was grinning like an idiot as she threw open the door to greet the day. She leapt down the steps in one stomach-churning bound and landed among a group of startled kids on bikes. Sera laughed and waved to them and ran all the way to Serafina’s.
THE END
About Marie Treanor
Marie Treanor lives in Scotland with her eccentric husband and three much-too-smart children. Having grown bored with city life, she resides these days in a picturesque village by the sea where she is lucky enough to enjoy herself avoiding housework and writing sensual stories of paranormal romance and fantasy.
Marie has published more than twenty ebooks with small presses, (Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Changeling Press and The Wild Rose Press), including a former Kindle bestseller, Killing Joe. Blood on Silk: an Awakened by Blood novel, was her New York debut with NAL.
Other E-Books by Marie Treanor
BLOOD GUILT (Blood Hunters, Book 1): a sequel to the Awakened by Blood trilogy
Available now from NAL Signet Eclipse:
The Awakened by Blood trilogy:
BLOOD ON SILK
BLOOD SIN
BLOOD ETERNAL
Available now from Ellora's Cave:
The Psychic Seductions trilogy:
HUNTING KAROLY
GUITAR MAN
FREEING AL
Available now from Samhain Publishing:
KILLING JOE
GOTHIC DRAGON
ARIADNE'S THREAD
THE DEVIL AND VIA
QUEEN'S GAMBIT
REQUIEM FOR RAB
Fairytale Fantasies (with Bonnie Dee):
CINDERELLA UNMASKED
DEMON LOVER
AWAKENING BEAUTY
Available now from Changeling Press
Tales of the Damned:
CITY OF THE DAMNED
Christmas Cookies: CHRISTMAS OF THE DAMNED
DRAGUL RISING
ROGUE WARRIORS
Jack o' Lanterns: WITCH OF ALLOWAY
ESCAPE: Devilish Fantasy
Hot Flash: SWAN SONG
Big, Blooming and Wild! WILLOW THE WISP
Heat Stroke: COOL POOL
STEAMY NIGHTS
DEMON'S KISS
WOLF HUNT
Holiday Howlz: CRY FOR THE MOON
Available now from The Wild Rose Press:
MAGIC MAN
GHOST UNLAID
Coming November 2012
SMOKE AND MIRRORS (The Gifted, Book 1)
by Marie Treanor
Deceit and desire, and a treasure beyond price…
When struggling Scottish writer Nell Black accepts a one-off job with the police, translating for an arson suspect from the isolated ex-Soviet republic of Zavrekestan, she stumbles into a terrifying world of organized crime and paranormal abilities that turns her whole belief system upside down. Faced with an incomparable thief, hit men who spontaneously combust, gangsters, drug dealers, British Intelligence and a fiery goddess, Nell no longer knows who to trust. The man who saves her life is a criminal to whom deceit is second nature. He has more smoke screens and more plans in motion than anyone else can keep track of. He is, moreover, probably insane. Even his fellow gangsters are afraid of him. So why is he the one man
Nell wants to touch her?
Rodion Kosar is in trouble. His convoluted plans all lead to one goal - the retrieval of his treasure - and to achieve that, he needs Nell to believe he isn't the bad guy. He has many reasons beyond his own desires to make love to her. Especially when a plan goes wrong and he has to play dead before someone really kills him - either the police, the menacing Russian crime lord known as the Bear, or the powerful Guardian of the Gifted whom he's defied once too often. Nell's burgeoning gift of second sight could be his best route to the treasure, and yet keeping her with him spells danger. For Nell has her own agenda, her own mission, and she could just as easily cause his final downfall.
Please enjoy the prologue and the first chapter from Smoke and Mirrors…
Prologue
Fourteen years ago…
The Russian captain ran from the village as if all the fiends in hell were after him—instead of just one unarmed boy. He stumbled and slipped his desperate way through the snow, trying to reach his horse, any horse that would get him away from here. The dying screams of his men still rang in his ears, the stink of their burning flesh clogged his nostrils and churned his stomach. If it hadn’t been fire, he’d have coped better, but his greatest fear—maybe even his only fear—had always been death by burning.
He still couldn’t quite believe the boy had killed them all. Just by looking. There must be money in this, if only he could stay alive long enough to find the way to it. Visions of the last hour flashed back in front of his eyes—tracking enemy survivors of the battle on horseback, because it was the easiest way to travel in these dense woods; the trail of blood his troop had followed here, bright, shocking scarlet against the pristine whiteness of the snow; the wounded separatist soldier, dragged from his house with his wife and the boy clinging to him; the sight of the once awful wound healing and closing before his eyes; his own gun shooting the soldier; the screams of the women; one of his men seizing a young girl of the family, grabbing for her skirt—just before he burst into flames.
There had been a barrage of shooting then. The soldier’s wife, the boy’s mother, had fallen beside her husband as the Russian soldiers began the rampage of looting, raping and killing that was all they fun they ever got out of this shitty little war. Only that hadn’t happened either, because of the boy.
Serafina and the Silent Vampire Page 30
