Bloodhunter

by Vonna Harper

  “Don’t avoid my questions, please.” She’d intended to snap at him, so why did her words sound so pathetic? “I learned that you don’t work here and no one has ever seen you around. That business about you being from another time or place or whatever you said—”

  “Why did you want to see me?” he asked as his gaze ran from her throat down, heating her until she had to clench her teeth to keep from screaming.

  Why indeed? A thousand reasons and yet only one.

  “Why Dana? Last night you wanted me gone.”

  Something shifted inside her. Another something winked out. Too late she realized she’d lost her grip on self-control which left nothing except heat and hunger. How had she managed to ignore his erection for so long, and how had she possibly found the wherewithal to fight his body’s pull? “You know,” she whimpered.

  “I’m here.”

  That’s all he said, two simple words, and with them the last of her resolve to face him as a separate human being slipped into the mist. She’d never felt this way around a man, never. Even when her hormones had been new and untamed and her interest in the opposite sex frenzied, she’d never been this bold, this hungry.

  Her hunger grew and heated, encompassing every inch of skin and snaking through her veins, reaching bone and muscle and beneath that to her heart, belly, groin. Desperate to share her hunger with the one man who could tap and control it, she yanked off her shirt and tugged on her jeans until they were low on her hips. “There. Is that what you wanted to see?”

  “Yes.”

  So he was down to one word answers now was he? Fine, she didn’t want to talk or listen anyway. Deciding whether to dispense with her bra or jeans first was too complex when the need to press her flesh against his commanded her.

  Perhaps he’d heard her unspoken plea because he took a silent step toward her. He was so big, so powerful, and she backed away without knowing she was going to do so. Instead of ordering her to stop, he stalked her, forced her to continue to retreat. Loving and hating this latest game, she kept the distance between them constant until she felt herself start up a slope.

  Looking behind her, she saw that she was closing in on a large tree that had rooted on the top of a slight hill. Because the tree lacked lower limbs, she was now only a few feet from the trunk and unless she moved to one side or the other, the tree would soon stop her. When she faced Nacon again, she noted that the slope had all but erased the height difference between them.

  “What are you going to do, Dana? Run?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she threw at him with her foot poised for yet another backstep. “Then you could call me a coward.”

  “That’s not what I want you to be, but I have to learn the truth.”

  This stalking thing was some kind of test? “About what?”

  “You.”

  Did he really need her to tell him that that made no sense? After all, she could lie to him. But if she did as he wanted and gave him her life story, it would take their time together in another direction, and she couldn’t handle that, not with the way her body felt. Despite her resolve not to give away everything—unless she already had—she resisted sliding her hands beneath her jeans so she could press them against her belly and maybe from there to between her legs. But then he took another step, and she again gave way. Her back made contact with the tree. Nowhere to go. Trapped.

  Deliciously trapped.

  “In some respects I became a predator because otherwise I wasn’t sure I was going to survive,” he said, his gaze raking her midsection. “Sometimes I didn’t want to; I longed to become nothing.”

  “Nothing? Why?”

  “You’ll understand, in time. Dana, I believe I’ve found what I’ve been looking for for so long; I hope I have. After being patient for countless years, I’m suddenly impatient. And I sense the same urgency in you.”

  If he touched her pussy, he’d have an undeniable example of urgency. After all there was something incredibly erotic about being backed into a figurative corner by a big and naked man armed only with his erection and words that made no sense. Suddenly on the verge of laughing, she made the mistake of dragging her attention off his mesmerizing eyes to a chest that looked as if it had been blessed by the sun for decades, maybe centuries. Nacon wasn’t civilized; quite possibly he didn’t know the meaning of the word. More animal than human, he lived by animal rules and had animal cravings.

  Damn, damn, damn, how she needed to be the recipient of those cravings! A growl rolled up from deep inside her, and as she switched her attention to his hips and belly, she remembered her nearly overwhelming impulse to run down and kill a gazelle earlier.

  He was turning her animal, sharing that primal element with her.

  A blurring of his upper body was her only warning that he was launching himself at her. Before she could do more than start to lift her hands, he grabbed her wrists and yanked her arms over her head. Flattening them against the tree, he leaned into her so she was trapped between him and the tree. His chest pressed against her breasts, imprisoning. Even more erotically disconcerting, he’d positioned himself so his hips and cock ground into her pelvis.

  His mouth was open, revealing perfect teeth as he challenged her to return his kiss. Wild and raw, she met the challenge. Although the rough press of mouth against mouth held no hint of tenderness, she returned his energy with her own. Lips parted, she welcomed his tongue. The instant she did, he attacked her opening, plundering and taking. She whipped her head from side to side, not in an attempt to escape, but because savage needed to be met with savage. And she arched her back and thrust her pelvis at him because she had no choice. But her damnable jeans were in the way!

  Not letting up on his attack of her mouth, he drew her arms together so he could grasp both wrists with a single powerful hand. That done, he rocked away from her and yanked down on her jeans. She helped by bringing her legs together and turning so he could work the denim down over her buttocks. Seconds later, her jeans and panties lay crumpled around her ankles.

  Then he leaned into her again, twisting and turning until his cock housed itself between her legs and the length pressed against her labia.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” she kept muttering even as their tongues fought and tasted.

  The hand that had dispensed with her jeans pressed against the small of her back now, forcing her to arch her body and bring her sex closer to him.

  Oh yes, quick and hard, fucking standing up.

  Her jeans! Furious at the confinement, she fought to free her right leg from the denim tether. By aiming her toes at the ground as she twisted and pulled, she managed what had briefly felt like an impossible task. What the hell did it matter that she’d lost a tennis shoe in the process?

  Nacon controlled every part of her body, all except for this newly-freed leg. Again instinct took over as she lifted it and wrapped it around his buttocks. He, or rather his cock, took advantage of the unspoken invitation. The moment the hot and hard pressure reached her entrance, she rocked forward, and he slid in. Even before she was certain his invasion was secure, she pushed at him with every bit of strength she possessed. He met her thrust for thrust.

  “So fast, so fast,” she chanted. A tension-filled wave crashed through her. As it crested, she climbed onboard and rode it. This was no longer her body; no longer could she claim any command over what was happening to it, but that was all right because she didn’t want anything except great energy all around and awesome power driving her toward her climax.

  “By the gods!” Nacon released her wrists only to lace his fingers though her hair and pull her head back. “By the gods.”

  “What gods?” Even before she’d finished her question, she knew the answer would have to wait until later because the wave, the unbelievable strength, the simple locking of her body with his had become everything.

  Lost. Damn it, she was lost. A small creature thrown into a storm-fed ocean. But unlike the bird or animal, she embraced this chur
ning world. By forcing her head back, Nacon had broken their lip lock. Now he nibbled on her exposed neck, his teeth raking over her skin and letting her know how little it would take to puncture a vein.

  What did she care? What did anything matter except the swift-approaching crest gathering in her groin?

  Before her leg could grow weary from being wrapped around him, Nacon grasped it and held it in place. Securely anchored now, she threw her full strength into the simple act of fucking. She grunted, growled, maybe even cursed. His sounds were deeper in tone and made no more sense than hers. They breathed as one and as rapidly as they could fill and empty their lungs. She continued to whip her head from side to side because she couldn’t keep still. Besides, doing so gave him more of her throat to rake his teeth over.

  The leg on the ground burned from having to support all of her weight, and the threat of a cramp increased her determination to speed to the finish line. Everything moved, but the separate parts finding no rhythm and no unison.

  She was shaking herself and being shaken, her cunt desperate to swallow all it could of him. Wet friction prevented her from determining where he let off and her own system began, but it didn’t matter because the top of the mountain was in view now.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” When her curse built around her, she tried to close her lips against it, but her muscles there were gone. There was only her pussy and his cock pounding at each other, only—yes! Yes!

  “I’m coming. Coming!” Gripping his shoulders for support, she flattened her back against the tree while holding the impossible pelvic arch that kept them locked together. Explosions. One after another. None powerful enough to knock her off her foot, but they rolled over her, and she was lost. Incredibly lost.

  Wonderfully gone.

  Her climax died long before she was ready to surrender the delicious sensation, but even as she fought to hold onto it, she acknowledged that such intensity could only last a short while. Feeling as if she might become flowing lava, she started panting. The act of pulling fresh air into her lungs helped reconnect her with the world she’d left a few minutes ago. She even had enough wherewithal to allow her to turn her attention to Nacon.

  He was still in her and still hard, still thrusting only with far less strength than he had a few seconds before. A mix of her own juices and his come rolled out of her to track down her thighs. So he’d ejaculated, had he? Then why was he still working?

  He started slowing, pausing, breathing like a spent race horse, sweating everywhere. Shaking himself like a dog shedding itself of water, he released her leg, but continued to support her as she lowered her limb to the ground. Once she was sure of her balance, she willed her hands to loosen their grip on his shoulders. “My god,” she muttered.

  Her head fell forward; she rested it on his chest. Then she took a long, deep breath, and the scent of their shared sweat and explosions filled her lungs. Shaking, she pushed him away. If she could have run with her jeans tangled around a leg she might have bolted.

  “What happened? No,” she protested when he opened his mouth. “I know what happened, damn it. I just don’t understand how I could have—damn it, this isn’t me. I don’t lose control. I don’t.”

  “You just did.”

  Tamping down the impulse to tear into him with her nails and teeth, she leaned over and retrieved her clothing. She didn’t speak until her jeans and panties were back where they belonged. “I don’t want you touching me. Do you understand, you have no right to take advantage—”

  “Of what? Your need for me.”

  Damn him for his arrogant stance and honest words and easy acceptance of his nudity. The last of his erection was dying, which was the way it should and needed to be, so why in the hell did she want to drop to her knees and cradle him in her mouth? Why the hell was she asking herself how much time and skill it would take to bring him back to life when that was absolutely the most dangerous thing she could do?

  “Answers,” she snapped, her hands curling into fists so she wouldn’t be tempted to slap him. “What the fuck did you mean by not being of this time, this world?”

  He folded his too-strong arms across his too-broad chest. “Do you always swear?”

  “Just when I’m trying to get answers and the other person is playing games.”

  “This isn’t a game, Dana.”

  Don’t tell me something I already know. “Then what is it?”

  “My future, and yours.”

  No riddles, damn it! But she didn’t say the words because suddenly and with no doubt she no longer wanted to curse or attack him. She was still trembling, and drying sweat and sex was making her skin itch, but even with those discomforts, she longed to feel him against her again. Maybe she’d tell him about feeling as if she was a surfer trying to ride a monster wave, but perhaps not because she’d only want to climb onto another wave.

  “Where are you from? Please, will you tell me that? It’s a starting point, I guess.”

  To her surprise and distraction, he held out his hand.

  “Are you going to say anything?” she demanded.

  “Yes.”

  Placing hers in his, she let him guide her to a piece of ground heavily carpeted with grass and paid scant attention to the strange sensation of wearing only one shoe. She couldn’t remember what had happened to her top.

  They sat down at the same time, cross-legged with their knees touching and his naked body proud and strong. “I’m trying to decide how to start,” he told her. “If I say the wrong things or in the wrong way, I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”

  “You won’t.” Could she really promise him that? “I’ll listen with an open mind. How’s that for starters?”

  A shadow darkened his eyes and made her wonder if he knew what she was talking about. “Start?”

  “Yes, now.”

  His chest rose and fell, rose and fell. “I’m Aztec.”

  Aztec? That was the jaguar’s name. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. Yet.”

  “But soon?” If I can handle it, and if I believe him. “Don’t stop now, please.”

  Another deep breath expanded his chest. “Maybe I should have told you this last night, but I didn’t. Dana, my home is in what is now Mexico.” He paused, but she couldn’t think of anything to say so she simply nodded. “For you to fully understand, you need to accept that I come from a place that no longer exists and that my time and yours aren’t the same.”

  Post-sex sometimes brought strange sensations, but she’d never felt anything quite like this. She was lightheaded, but not dizzy, and her mind seemed to be reaching out and looking for something. Understanding?

  “Mexico? That’s where the Aztecs lived, isn’t it?” Shocked by what she’d just put together, she closed her eyes. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  “No.”

  Of course it wasn’t, and damn her for saying such a thing. “You’re saying…what?”

  “What do you think I am?”

  “Don’t answer my questions with another question, please. I can’t handle that right now.”

  “I’ll try not to, but I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  That my world has turned on end. “So much that I can’t stay on top of it all. I studied the Aztecs in school, but I’m afraid I haven’t retained much. They were advanced in many ways like their math, but—human sacrifices.” She swallowed down the word. “They did some pretty barbaric things.”

  Hiding behind her lids might be safer, but sooner or later she’d have to face what was happening, not that she’d begun to understand what that something was. “Is that what you’re talking about, the ancient civilization? You’re part of that?”

  “Yes.”

  Yes. Had a single word ever been more complex? Had she ever been more afraid? “Go on. I—I need to listen, just listen, not jump to any conclusions, not agree or disagree or ask questions, not…”

  She should tell him she’d run out of words to throw at him sh
ort of calling him insane, but saying anything more might totally exhaust her when she needed to prepare herself for what came next.

  “I can’t explain why I’m still alive and here when everyone else who made up my world is dead,” he said. Another shadow, one she took to be concentration, darkened his beautiful and strange eyes. “I want to be with them, even if they no longer exist. But that’s not what the gods chose for me.”

  Listen. Just listen.

  “You’re involved.” He indicated her tattoo then his. “This is the connection, somehow. What—what about your heritage? Where do your ancestors come from?”

  Was he leaving something out, maybe what he already knew about her? “I’m part of the melting pot, Nacon. A little of this, some of that. There’s some Hispanic on my father’s side, but I’ve never been to Mexico.”

  His expression continued to tell her he was searching for answers, but he had to know she couldn’t possibly help him. Still, their identical tattoos existed. That and the combustion that took place whenever they so much as looked at each other. If he was right, how old did that make him? Centuries. “You have no idea why you’re alive?“ she asked because she needed to get him talking again and silence the roaring in her head.

  “No.” He raked a hand through his tangled hair, prompting her to open her eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve been drifting, not truly conscious and yet not dead. I knew that years, even decades, were passing, but it didn’t matter.”

  “What about before you started drifting?”

  His slow blink made her wonder if he was truly aware of her presence. “I was born to be a warrior. I, along with my brothers, pledged my life to protecting our people. I took great pride in my responsibilities, but for a long time there was little danger because the tribes that shared the land with us were afraid of us. When we attacked, they ran.” She thought he was going to blink again, but this time his eyes remained closed. “And then the strangers came.”

  “Strangers?”

  “Spanish soldiers led by the conqueror Hernan Cortes.”

  His words were heavy with hatred and fear, causing her to search her mind for what little she knew about what had happened to the Aztec civilization. If her memory was right, Cortes and his men had stumbled upon the Aztecs while exploring Mexico. The history books had glossed over the details, but even back when she’d been uninterested in much of anything beyond her world, she’d read between the lines. The invaders had had superior weapons and fighting techniques along with determination to prove their superiority. By the time the invasion was over, the Aztec empire lay in ruins. “They didn’t kill you?” she forced herself to ask. “How were you able to escape?”