Bound By Blood

by Kimberly Hoyt

"What does Rugged Sebastian look like?" he asked.

  "Well, in theory, Rugged Sebastian would have a five o'clock shadow, finger-tousled hair, jeans that fit his ass nicely and a flannel something or other. Maybe some construction-type boots." She arched her brows. "There could even be a Phantom of the Opera Sebastian." Laurel warmed to the teasing, if only to help alleviate some of the tension.

  Sebastian looked dubious and amused. "Would that please you?"

  "I like Suited Sebastian better than Rugged Sebastian, I think." A dimple shadowed her cheek when she smiled. "Although I can see you in a half mask and cape. Sort of like at the masquerade. And armor-- I can see you in armor."

  His arm tightened around her, holding her flush against his front. "You have already seen me in armor."

  "Not in the flesh," she countered.

  He laughed, lifting her hand to press a kiss against the inside of her wrist. Sebastian looked much more at ease than he had when she'd entered.

  "Come, I would show you something." Taking her hand in his, he led her along the hallways to the ballroom with the high domed ceiling. Passing out the double sets of French doors, he guided her to the terrace. It was bathed in moonlight, like the sprawling grounds and hedge maze beyond.

  Laurel followed without complaint, without hesitation. No matter what thoughts plagued her mind, she was happy to be with him.

  He let go of her hand and took off his suit coat, draping it over the thick banister of the terrace. Undoing the buttons on his sleeves, he rolled them to his elbows. "Business Casual Sebastian." There was a gleam in his eyes.

  She laughed. "Not bad."

  Grinning, he said, "Stay here. Watch."

  He turned and jogged to the end of the terrace and down the stairs to the grass. Stopping some feet in front of the opening to the hedge maze, he met her gaze and stretched his arms to the side. Tipping back his head, he let loose a long, mournful howl that built in his chest and sounded nothing like a normal man should be able to make. It echoed in the air, eerie and haunting, before it faded.

  Perplexed, Laurel braced her hands on the banister, regarding this display with intrigue. From the woods, a chorus of responding howls ripped through the night. She glanced toward the forest in time to see shadows bursting from the cover, straight toward Sebastian. Wolves. They were almost upon him.

  "Come brothers and sisters," Sebastian said, inviting the animals closer. Two pups bumbled after the pack, desperately trying to keep up. They swarmed around him in mad circles, whining and clamoring for attention, muzzles raised. He laughed and lowered his arms to pet and stroke them, his eyes seeking hers.

  Delighted, Laurel watched the wolves swirl around him. She met and held Sebastian's enigmatic gaze, her quiet laughter all but lost amidst the noise. It was obvious that he controlled them on a level she didn't understand. Somehow, he communed with these creatures and they seemed to adore him. Sebastian was larger than life to her right then, powerful in ways she couldn't comprehend, almost boyish with a thatch of dark hair falling across his brow.

  He straightened, still petting and rubbing the animals, and gestured her down to the lawn.

  Laurel hurried to the steps but refrained from running. Instinct told her that wouldn't be a wise idea, even if the wolves seemed to be under his command. The animals quieted when she approached, watching with sharp, intent gazes. She held her palms down and with harmless sniffs they took in her scent, glancing from her to Sebastian and back again. After a moment, they started to mill around, brushing against her legs, her arms. None of them nipped her.

  "They have babies," she breathed, grinning as the pups wrestled and tumbled.

  "Yes. In the spring and the winter," Sebastian said. In his element, he reached down to scoop one of the pups into his arms. The worried mother hovered and lurked at his feet. The pup writhed and nipped at Sebastian's shirt, drawing a laugh from him.

  She laughed, too, and managed to scratch the pup's ruff before it could nip her hand. "Oh god, they're so cute. And feisty! Are these the same ones I've heard howling in the woods sometimes at night?" The other pup tried to snatch her chenille pant leg and tug.

  Sebastian let the pup down so it could distract the other. They tangled and romped, safe among the pack. "Yes, they live in the woods around the estate. Guardians. You never have to fear them now. They have your scent."

  "I'd love to try and get some pictures of them. They're magnificent," she said.

  Sebastian slid an arm around her hips, pulling her closer. The wolves writhed all around them, a sea of fur and sharp teeth. "Select images, perhaps."

  Laurel looked up from the wolves to see Sebastian staring down at her. The wolves peeled away from them one and two at a time, hurtling back toward the woods with the pups tumbling along behind. She felt high on the energy around them, an invisible throb of life that made her heart beat faster, made her want to share more than just a look. With an impulsive wrap of her fingers around his nape, she drew him down, offering her mouth for a kiss.

  Howls drifted through the night, growing distant. The scent of fresh cut grass and rich earth permeated the air around them in the cool evening. Under the fat glow of a full moon, Sebastian nipped her bottom lip, staring into her eyes, and pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue surged inside, exploring thoroughly.

  In her mind, she heard his voice as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud. Yes, open for me. Weak-kneed, Laurel groaned against his lips. The sound got lost in the kiss that she returned with as much languor and heat as he gave.

  He wrapped his hand around her thigh, the other around her back, coaxing her to circle her legs around his hips. She stroked her hands through his hair, angling her thighs around him, feeling small and feminine against his taller, stronger body.

  Sebastian carried her just like that across the grass, up the stairs, and into the ballroom. He kissed her the whole time, hands possessive on her hips. Halfway into the room he stopped and let her get her feet on the ground, leaving a final nip on her mouth.

  Laurel, dazed and affected, lowered her legs. "I could kiss you like that forever," she said without thinking.

  Sebastian smiled down at her. "You should be cautious saying such things to a vampire."

  Her shoulders shook with a silent laugh. The shock of hearing the term was starting to wear off. Vampire or not, she reveled in his presence. "Maybe it's my intent to lure you," she countered.

  He lifted a hand and made a vague gesture; a cool breeze slithered through the room and flames flickered to life on an endless array of candles placed around the perimeter. They illuminated a small table set with platters and plates and glasses that Sebastian had somehow arranged while they were outside.

  Distracted, she gasped in surprise, and let him lead her to one of the chairs. He held it for her, and she sat down. "Thank you. This looks wonderful."

  "You have not been eating enough," he said, taking the seat across from her. "I would not have you grow ill."

  Laurel noticed that there was no plate in front of him, no utensils. Just a glass of what looked to be a pale chardonnay. She realized, just then, that she had never really seen him eat. Uncovering the plate, she breathed in the scent of the food and picked up a fork. "I've been a little stressed about work and Sasha. I don't need to worry about her anymore, at least." Digging the tines into the pasta, she lifted it for a bite.

  Sebastian poured her a glass of wine and watched her across the table. "I was not comfortable with you staying there," he said.

  "I know," she replied after she'd swallowed the bite. She smiled, and attacked the roast beef next. Laurel wasn't sure what to do about her living arrangements and decided to worry about it later. Right now, she wanted to keep this reconnection with him alive.

  "What did Sara have to say?"

  "She said that you are the Prince of Europe. I didn't realize it was a real title. She also explained in some detail how good it feels to be bitten by one of you during sex." Laurel's lips ticked with humor before she took a s
ip of her wine, watching Sebastian's reaction. It was surreal to be having this conversation with him.

  He laughed. "Sara would say such things. I hope she did not say too much."

  "I discovered that vampire politics are complex. As new as it all is to me, I found it fascinating. She said you were quite powerful. She also said that Isabella used to be a Prince, like your maker."

  "Yes," he said, inclining his head. "It was my maker's grave I was visiting that night in the cemetery. He died some years ago, but I always had the suspicion that he was alive somewhere."

  "I've thought of going back there with you. To the place where we met," she explained, a fond glint creeping into her gaze. "Maybe someday we can."

  "I would like that," he said, setting his wine glass down.

  Laurel toyed with the remainder of the meal on her plate, swirling the tines of the fork through the potatoes. "She told me that because she drinks vampire's blood, she doesn't age. She said it could be that way for me, too." The thought still made her stomach churn, but Laurel put it out there between them nevertheless. She studied his eyes, trying to read him.

  Sebastian's gaze sharpened. "It's true that our blood stops the mortal aging process, yes. Is that something you find appealing?"

  "Well, the more I think about it…yes. I mean, who wants to get old?" She took a last bite and set the fork down, done with her dinner. "Sara also said that it would create a bond between us, that I would feel even closer to you."

  "Sometimes, it can conjure emotions that are not based in reality. If nothing else, it instills a loyalty to the vampire you're taking from," he explained.

  "I asked her over lunch about drinking other vampire's blood, and she said I wouldn't want to do that."

  Sebastian rose and paced away from the table. He seemed agitated at the suggestion. "I hope you are not considering it, Laurel. We are possessive, territorial creatures. Another vampire might try to stake a claim."

  Laurel sipped her wine, tracking his progress. "If, if the time ever came for that, I wouldn't want it to be anyone but you. I was just curious to see what she'd say.” And even more curious over what he would say. She set the glass down. "But what I want right now, is for you to close this distance between us."

  He glanced at her and Laurel was pleased to see a certain amount of possessiveness in his expression. Sebastian changed direction, stalking back toward the table.

  She stood up out of her chair, sliding her hands around his middle when he was in reach. "Thank you," she said. "Have you ever wondered what my blood tastes like? Have you ever been tempted to…bite me, like Sara was talking about?"

  Sebastian hooked an arm low around her hips, pressing her snug against him. "Often. Being near you keeps the hunger sharp. But I would never treat you like a vessel," he said, using his other hand to graze a touch across the pulse in her throat.

  "Is it just blood in general, because I have some, or is it mine specifically you wonder over?" she asked, wanting to know whether he was tempted more with her than other humans.

  "It is a hard thing to articulate in terms you might understand," he said. "It is a drive, a hunger…but also a desire, like lovemaking. The drive is always there to preserve ones life with sustenance. But the desire I have to taste you is based on more than that. For us, the act of taking blood is a matter of hunger and a matter of intimacy. I rarely take blood directly from a ves--person."

  She shuddered when his thumb passed so light over her skin. "How would you describe what it feels like? The bite, I mean," she asked. Flattening her palms on his back, she stroked along each side of his spine.

  "We can make it as pleasurable or as painful as we choose," he said. "There is generally a small sting when the blood teeth penetrate, but it is easily masked under the right circumstances."

  "Is that what you meant when you said that someday, you would possess me utterly?" She whispered the question, face tilted up to see his eyes.

  "I was talking about making love to you, with that included, perhaps." The pad of his finger traced her collarbone.

  "…and where would you choose to take from me, if I asked you to?" Laurel said, indulging her growing curiosity.

  "I would draw here," he said, sliding his thumb back to her throat. "So I could feel you against me while I did." Sebastian wore his desire openly. "But Laurel, I won't."

  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine it. There was something darkly seductive about his voice, the feel of his hand on her throat. Not twenty-four hours ago she would have cringed at the possibility; now she actually entertained the idea.

  "I know you wouldn't without my permission first," she said.

  "You're curious, I know. But I would not hurt you, no matter how hungry you make me."

  "Sebastian, what if I wanted you to do it? What if I asked you to? You said you can control how much it hurts, so I wouldn't be worried about the pain." She searched his gaze.

  "Laurel, as controlled as I am, it can be dangerous. I want you…to taste you, but you cannot conceive what you are really asking." He skimmed his knuckles across her cheek with blatant hunger--and regret--burning in his eyes.

  "I know I can't, and I don't mean to push you. I'll always wonder," she admitted, and that much was true. Now that her interest had been stoked, now that the unease and tension had been replaced by familiar heat and desire, she couldn't help wondering about the dark kiss. This, apparently, was a part of him she would never know.

  "I took too much once, right after learning my maker was dead," he said, and it sounded like confession. "It ended badly."

  That explained his hesitation. She tightened her arms, pressing herself flush against his front. "I'm sorry to hear it, Sebastian. I can see why you don't want to risk it with me and I promise that I won't seek out another in your stead just to appease my curiosity. The thought doesn't appeal to me at all." If it couldn't be Sebastian, she didn't want it to be anyone else.

  He bent down quicker than her eye could follow and grazed her throat with his mouth. "Will you wonder every time I do this?" he asked.

  Surprised, she sucked in a breath. When she didn't feel the puncture of teeth, she exhaled. "Yes, but I like this, too." She stroked her hands across the breadth of his back, kneading the muscles.

  "If I were going to, where would you want it?" he asked close to her ear.

  Laurel repressed a shiver. "Right…there. My throat," she said, when he skimmed his lips along the column of her neck.

  She imagined she felt his body tighten, like he was holding himself back. He growled against her skin and she drew lines over his shirt with her nails, wishing it were bare skin. With a sudden tilt and shift of the world, she found herself pinned against the nearest wall. It happened so fast she didn't even have time to gasp.

  The material of her shirt shrieked when he ripped it right down the front. Her mouth parted in surprise, fingers digging into his back. When it hung in tatters, he scraped the material off her shoulders, letting it float to the floor like forgotten ghosts. Underneath, she wore nothing.

  Sebastian grazed his hands up her ribs, staring down at her with vivid intensity. His blue eyes were pin-pricked with red in the center and when he opened his mouth his blood teeth had descended. He looked dangerous, feral. The candles flickered at the storm of his dark passion, the presence he exuded a palpable weight on the air.

  Laurel stared up at the shocking changes, back arched against the wall. He seemed bigger to her, devastatingly handsome-- something she would have never expected in this scenario. The sense of danger excited her and her heart rate increased. His teeth looked sharp, and she cried out a little in surprise when he raked a nail-- no a claw--over the erect point of a dusky nipple. He caught her chin gently in his hand, forcing her to see him. To see all of the things he'd become.

  "Is this what you want?" Sebastian asked, a guttural rasp to his voice.

  Was this what she wanted? He intimidated her with his power and the potent hunger she could see in his ey
es. Sebastian the beast was far different than Sebastian the man, but she realized, faced with the reality of it, that she wasn't afraid of either. The ache inside was wrought from need, from desire, and she could no more turn away from him now than she could have before.

  "Yes," she said. "I want you."

  Sebastian growled and dropped to a knee, holding her hips in his hands. The gleam of his sharp teeth looked wicked against the soft swell of her breast when he scraped a thin, red line over the curve. He didn't draw blood, only scored her flesh, staring up her body to see her reaction.

  Laurel arched toward the minute sting of pain, thrusting a hand through his dark hair.

  The second pass drew a tiny bead of blood and she heard him growl again when the scent hit the air. Instead of lick it clean, he let the droplet wind a serpentine path toward her navel and used the point of his teeth to make another furrow, until there were several rivulets gliding and glimmering down. His tongue lapped out, broad and surprisingly warm, gathering the ruby jewels on the tip. He followed the lines back toward her breast, leaving her skin clean in his wake. The final stroke sealed the small wounds like they'd never been there at all.

  Amazed, Laurel watched, breathing shallowly. Nails scraping his scalp, she encouraged him by pressing her flesh even closer to his lips, to the danger of his teeth. She could feel his restraint like she felt the unnatural breeze in the room that made the candle flame gutter and threaten to go out.

  He caught the drawstring tie of her pants between his fingers and pulled. Using his palms, he smoothed the material over her hips, down her thighs, letting it pool at her feet. His teeth scraped her skin, too light to draw more ribbons of blood, to a point just above her navel. They sunk in all of a sudden, just the tips, piercing her flesh. Blood washed thick over his tongue and he shuddered hard.

  A cry strangled itself in the back of her throat. Heat unfurled from the spot and spread through her limbs; a slow, creeping desire that was as distinct as his otherworldly presence. He lathed the pinprick injury closed, leaving her skin creamy, unblemished. She wanted him to do it again. Wanted to feel his teeth sinking all the way in. This was only a small display of what the dark kiss could be. Her hands clutched his shoulders like she thought the earth might spin right out from underneath her.