by Kiki Howell
“No, don’t Winter me! I’m afraid of leaving here and missing the chance to know what it’s like to touch you, to have you touch me. I’ve dreamed of you for years. I’ve worried about you for years. Something about that night – you lying there, feeding my magic into you to save your life – it changed me forever. It made me the witch I am today, popular or not among my kind. Some part of you stayed with me. I can’t explain it. I’m scared, sure. You are a vampire, but I welcome the danger, the thrill of it. If only to find out if these feelings I’ve carried for you –for a boy I never even got the chance to know – are something I should acknowledge, or just some fantasy I’ve created in my head.”
“Stop!” he yelled when she finally paused long enough for him to get a word in edgewise. “Let’s say it’s fantasy and move on, for your sake.”
“You’ve been with mortals before, haven’t you? I mean surely, you interact with them, live among them at night. Surely in the past ten years you have been gone, you’ve had sex with a woman, one not vampire. It happens all the time here. The tourist humans don’t even know they are with a vamp in this town. No one acknowledges it, but we all know that all three clans do it. They don’t all end up dead. Why do you think you wouldn’t be able to control yourself with me? I want you, if only to fulfill a dream. One time, no strings, is all I’m asking. No man in his right mind would turn down such an offer no matter who the woman is.”
Her bluntness tongue-tied him for a minute. He swallowed, his strong – almost unbearable – desire to have her, to see her body completely bared before him, messed with his ability to think straight. Someone so beautiful, who’d seen him in the light, wanted him anyway, would be beyond anything he’d let himself dream as a vamp. To taste her would be heaven. Could he stop with just the taste of her skin? Could he drink just one sip of her blood?
“You are different,” Isaac spat though he hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. “Sorry. It’s just this magic of yours, this connection. I don’t know what would happen. I can smell your blood, sweet, calling to me. What if I bite you and can’t stop? If I did something wrong, could I even glamour it away? Doesn’t work on your kind or is that some myth you guys let us keep?”
“No, it doesn’t. We fake it, let you guys think it does, but it doesn’t. There will be nothing I would want to forget. I already know what you are. I don’t need to be made to forget like the humans. You’ll stop. I trust you.”
“No.” He stated flatly, his fingers dug into his skin now. “I won’t risk you or this odd connection we have based on a moment of tragedy. I can’t explain it, this piece of you my body recognizes, but for maybe the first time in my vampire life, I have the need to cherish something, rather than walk away or even destroy it. I don’t want it explained to me. I just want it to be. Let it go at that. Once you’re back home, I think I will like knowing I’m part of someone’s fantasy. I won’t taint it.”
“You egotistical bastard!”
“What the hell did I say?” He threw his hands up. His first moment as part of a caring and feeling world in ten years and he’d screwed it up somehow. No shit, dumb ass, what did you expect?
“You cherish it, you asshole, and ignore what I want! Who died and made you boss? I don’t think so!”
“I died! All right? I could kill you and that makes me boss!” He spat back at her.
“Then you obviously have no clue as to the extent of what I could do to you?”
“In a coven maybe. Alone, I don’t think you’re much of a match. I feel your magic, but you’re not spelling me are you? What I feel for you, it’s all my own isn’t it?”
“You feel something then?” Her voice rose, and she bit her lip, looked away.
“Yes. I feel something. It doesn’t change the facts.”
“I think it does.” She glanced at him.
A few seconds later, she practically dove at him. His body braced as hers fell against his. Caught off guard she knocked him flat on his back and her body fell over his. Her hands grabbed his face hard and her mouth crushed down over his lips. Her tongue entered his mouth before he could process it all. But his body, his instincts, reacted. His fangs revealed themselves right into her lip.
Winter pulled back with a small gasp. Her hand went to her mouth. Magic swirled around him, the power that just resided inside of her increased, glowed around them both so much that he resisted tasting her. Stunned could be the only explanation of why he didn’t put his tongue on his fang to get a hint of her blood’s flavor. Was he feeling warm?
Yet, when her hand fell from her mouth and she licked over the scarlet colored blood which ran from her lip, he lost control of the situation. He pulled her back against him with one arm curled around her back, while his other hand went to her breast and squeezed the round globe hard. At the same time, he sucked the blood from her lip. Honey – pure sweet nectar – made him feel like he had drunk a sweet wine. It went straight to his head. The instant high was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, more pure – more brilliant and full – more clear and potent than any drug he’d ever done.
With her moan, somehow, he found the strength to pull back, lick over her lip so the puncture marks healed, and looked into her eyes rather than drank her dry. He was satiated with just a sip. He wondered if it was truly amazing or all a product of her magic, one she controlled or one natural about her? The whole reason their kinds didn’t mix was the unknowns. Her lip had sealed over right before his eyes, faster than a normal human’s would. Her eyes were glassy, but not from tears. He feared it was from desire.
Next thing he knew, she pulled her nightgown off. Her breasts, pale, perfect, with hard red nipples, were an unbelievable picture. With her white lace panties her only clothing, she sat up on her knees. She couldn’t have looked more seductive if she’d tried. She had curves in all of the right places in his mind.
“I will bite you again.”
“I know. You stopped the first time without hardly taking any blood, and I don’t mind. Like you, I don’t fear death. But, neither do I fear you killing me.” She flipped her hair off her neck, leaned her head to the side in invitation.
He crawled to her, using a hand to push her down onto her back. All of his reservations, fears, logical arguments, were taken away by one taste of her blood. Stupid, but who the hell cared now. He was addicted, forever – unexplainably and stupidly – a full-blown addict of this witch.
“Your neck is not where I want to bite you next.” He didn’t need the blood; he simply wanted the blood. A distinct and reassuring difference at the moment, but he was well aware of how these things could change without a moment’s notice. Yet right now his focus was on wanting to give her pleasure like she’d never had before. Erotic sensations only a vampire could give. Mixed with her magic, who knew what could happen.
Crouched between her legs, he pushed her thighs apart and took in the sweet smell of her arousal. He watched her shiver when his palm glided up her leg to her thigh. He buried his face in the lace of her panties, grabbed her ass and shook himself to know where he was. She was this vision of an angel in his dark clutches, one he’d seen in flashes in his dreams for years. Maybe it had been her, the residue of her magic. Maybe he had seen her that night? Then he took in her scent again and figured who the hell cared on the how of it. As if to prod him along, her hips moved in his hands, her mound ground against his mouth.
A few bites and a pull discarded the thin strip of lace hiding the last of her from him. Licking up her wet lips, her juices tasted as wonderful as her blood. She opened herself to him, let her thighs fall further apart. Rising to meet the occasion, her ass clenched in his palms until the most intimate part of her was against his face. He stuck his tongue inside her opening and she tensed, cried out. As he licked and sucked every inch of her sex, her skin turned a more brilliant color of red, more and more of her blood came close to the surface. He looked. He tasted. He smelled. He touched. And, he was drugged from the interplay of his senses.
&n
bsp; Finding her swollen clit, his swiped at it. She thrust toward him each time his tongue met with her engorged flesh. Careful to keep it from his fangs, he sucked on it lightly, made her cry out. Only when her body began to shudder – the moment he knew she stood on the precipice of bliss – did his fingers replace his tongue on her clit, swirled her juices around the hard nub with the rough pads of his fingers. Then he moved his mouth to bite into the fleshiest part of her thigh.
One draw of blood into his mouth and her hips violently trembled. She cried out, but rather than sense her pleasure, he felt she’d cast a spell on him. Her magic poured over him, through him like blood through his veins. He felt her climax. It traveled deep into his groin, filled the area with pleasure. His cock was rock hard, waves of contractions flowed through him. Thoughts, not his, entered his head. My goddess, Isaac Roberts, just made me come. Fuck me Isaac.
He pulled back, stared at her. He only realized he’d left the wound marks open on her thigh when blood dripped onto his leg. He licked over the tiny holes to seal her flesh, to let it start to heal, before he turned back to confront her.
“You did that on purpose. You pushed thoughts into my head.”
“Yes. Mind games. I’m a witch. I’m brilliant at them.”
“But, so easily. Can you hear my thoughts?”
“If I wanted to, I could control them. You vamps don’t fear us for nothing. But, I wouldn’t do that to you. I think you know that. I think you can feel enough of me, of my magic, to know I’m not a threat to you.”
Isaac nodded and looked up her body. Her skin glowed in the light of the few lamps that were still on. He realized he’d slept with the light on last night with his face exposed no less. As well, he’d slept like the dead with a stranger in his bed, unprotected. However, what the realization gave to him was pure power rather than vulnerability. Usually he cared little for life, but right now he wanted to live it. Could he live with that extreme change, was the question.
Like a lion over prey, he came over her. His body felt heavy as it met her softness from head to toe. He kissed her, gently, for the first time, savored the feel of her lips on his as her tongue rubbed along his fangs.
“I taste not only my own arousal, but my own blood.”
“Damn, that was one sexy sentence.” He smiled down at her. And, damn but he could get used to this. A connection, love at first sight, mortal enemies, he just could no longer deny or resist any of it no matter how dangerous or stupid it was.
Moving his hips, he nestled his between hers. The hard, tight, head of his cock met her warm, wet, softness.
“Am I too cold?” he whispered, as he felt her shudder again.
“No, not too cold.”
When she smiled, his heart – the one that no longer beat, but lie dead in his chest – felt like it came alive for one moment. He reached for the blanket on the bed and pulled it over them, hoped to keep some of her body heat in it. He felt deliciously warm. She’d made him feel so alive, like a true man again. He couldn’t control her thoughts and didn’t know how to send his own to her as she’d just done to him, so he spoke instead; his fear of rejection outweighed by his pleasure.
“You make me feel so alive again, I swear my heart beat. I feel your warmth, not only in your blood running through me, but every place we touch. For so long I’ve hardened myself from the world, taking some physical pleasures, but denying any existence of humanity inside myself. That is until last night when I held you in my arms, carried you across town. You have saved me, ten years ago and again last night. I didn’t know it until just this moment.”
“You’ve saved me too.”
“From what?”
“My solitary existence, even if for just one night if that is all this can be.”
He swept his lips over hers; their smiles coincided against each other. He entered her then, pushed his length inside her body, felt her inner walls adjust around him. She practically purred. Their initial slow rhythm became frenzied fast. Her inner walls gripped him as he moved in and out of her. Her fingers dug into his back. He felt her power swirl around them again, her voice came clear in his head.
Bite me, Isaac. It’s all right. I know you want to.
He did. His fangs pierced her neck and sent him over the edge. As her blood flowed into his mouth again, his seed – void of life, but strong – shot into her. She quivered around him, tightened and loosened, milked him of every last drop of his come as she came herself.
After healing her wounds with his tongue, he bunched the blanket more in between their chests to protect her from his chill. He moaned when he slipped from inside her. He knew the connection lost would have been worse though, if some part of her didn’t envelope him with her energy still.
“Better than I ever dreamed it could be,” she said as she looked up into his eyes. He knew they were dark, but she still didn’t look away. “I could probably heal your face now, with a spell, a few herbs. Not that I care what you look like, you’re beautiful. But, I feel guilty. Like I might have done this to you.” Tears slipped from her eyes, tiny knives into his heart, which had just now come alive.
“No. Don’t feel like that. You’ve already healed something in me that, until now, I didn’t care was even broken.”
A sound in the distance, the feeling of his family drawing near, made him move her with lightening speed into the closet, the only hiding space in the whole damn place save for the bathroom.
“There is a door behind this wall. Get in there so they don’t feel you. I’m sorry.”
He left her there and said something like a prayer to god only knew who that she would be safe, remain hidden. Although, he knew already he would protect her to his death. A vampire and a witch? No different than my sister with a werewolf. This was his last thought as the main door opened and he shoved her nightgown and what was left of her panties under the sheet on the bed.
Chapter Three
“Isaac.” He heard his name as Achim came to him and wrapped his arms around him in a grandfatherly hug. As soon as the man let go, Willa, his wife, stepped in to take his place. Kissing Isaac’s cheek as she stood on her toes to hug him, he bent to meet her. She was short, but a feisty old vampire, made centuries ago in a German village with her husband Achim.
Isaac’s sister Amberlyn, stood back with her head bowed. He could see her fingers were wrapped tight around each other, rested – if you could call it that – over her stomach. Her grief, guilt – useless emotions for a vampire – turned the knife already lodged in his heart.
“I’m not mad at you, Amberlyn. You didn’t stake him, and you never meant for this to happen. It’s the difference between intention and outcome.” The words lingered in his mind, very much just as appropriate here as they were in his own situation with Winter.
Amberlyn sighed, looked up at him, as if to see if he had told the truth. He motioned her toward him and noticed with a lump in his chest that Willa patted Amberlyn’s shoulder once as she made her way across the room. Achim had turned away from her though.
Holding his sister to him – a woman he really knew very little – he was pretty sure he shocked them both when he whispered into her hair, “I love you, as did our father. He would want your happiness above anything else.”
Achim cleared his throat. “We are going after the werewolf who meant to shoot Amberlyn, but got Drake instead. His gun was filled with stake-like bullets. He had to have been just carrying the thing, as no one knew what Amberlyn had planned. So, we need to find out why. My fangs are set for him as well. But first, some matters to attend to. After revenge there must come peace in the Willows again. Every clan, vamp and werewolf and witch, understands the need for justice – an eye for an eye. But also, we need to settle back into the way things were again, or none of us will be able to stay in the Willows. Werewolves and witches will want this more than us. Some of them their families have lived here for centuries. So, first, who will replace Drake as the head of this clan? The vamps in this area are con
cerned about the trouble, of course, and want a clear ruler. Amberlyn was being groomed to rule but obviously that’s not wise now. You have been away Isaac, never really a part of this clan as far as proximity goes.”
“So you are saying you are the best bet then, Achim?” Isaac asked. He didn’t fight him, just clarified what the man – for whatever reason – had not come out and said.
“In the eyes of the clan, probably. I had not thought I would take over again after creating Drake for the job, but it seems necessary now. I don’t want it, but what choice do I have. However, behind closed doors I don’t see why we can’t rule together until the clan moves again to a location where you can be with us. One where your human family is not.”
“Fine, but I want Amberlyn in on this too. Her actions may have caused what happened, but she is the one Drake groomed for the job. I think he would want it. We could use her input.”
“It is being rumored the witches plan to retaliate for the witch they lost as well,” Achim went on, ignored what Isaac had said about Amberlyn. “There was no meeting with them, or reasoning with them. All communication has pretty much shut down between the werewolves and the vamps as well. The few of them who met with Drake only when necessary, won’t talk to me now. Anyway, the witches want someone, anyone, held accountable for the crime committed. Even if it was just crossfire, a second shot that hit the witch. We have said we were hunting for the werewolves ourselves, but I’m not sure they will stop at that. They are threatening werewolf and vamp alike with spells, necromancy, whatever magical nonsense they can cook up. We could just move on, end our time here early, but the clan hates having to move every twenty to thirty years. We have only been here twelve. If we can see this end peacefully, the majority of the clan wants to stay if we can.”
