by Margot Fox
“Why do you think?”
“I just said I don't know,” she replied petulantly.
Jamie rolled the Bentley out of the parking lot and onto the county road, accelerating to a perfectly illegal speed in seconds. Tesa felt herself being pressed luxuriously back against the plush leather seats.
“We try to remain subtle,” Gunner drawled, just before he bit down on the soft flesh below his wrist. Opening a vein and letting the hot, sweet crimson blood flow, he held his wrist out to Tesa.
“Here, you're going to need this.”
Obediently, she slid forward on the seat, marveling slightly at how much of a rote thing this had become. Every day, several times a day, she drank Gunner’s blood, as much she could stand. In the beginning it had been a horror. Now, just a couple weeks later, it was a habit.
She held his arm delicately in her fingertips, leaning forward so she didn't get too much spatter on her dress. She only shuddered slightly with disgust, a feeling that she quickly shoved to the back of her mind.
She didn't even have to try too hard. As soon as her lips closed over his velvety skin and the hot blood flowed over her tongue, her instincts took over. She drank from him avidly, hungrily. She closed her eyes and let the liquid seep through her, turning every cell on high.
Her pulse quickened, her body lit on fire. She became completely aware of everything: the individual sounds of the pistons of the Bentley’s motor. The thousands of grasshoppers fluttering their wings in the ditches as the car flew past. The catalogued cascade of animal smells as they hurtled down the county road, toward the city.
She drank until she could feel her stomach distending. She drank until she could almost drown. She drank until Gunner pushed her back forcefully with his other arm, breaking the seal her lips had made around his flesh.
Reluctantly, she loosened her jaw and let his arm drop from between her teeth. Falling back against the seat, she panted with her lips open for long seconds, her eyes half-lidded, her body thrumming with exultant bliss.
That kiss.
Totally without warning, the image invaded her mind again. How desperately she had desired him. How his lips had formed to hers as though fitting a key into a lock. How kissing him felt like the answer to a question she had been asking herself incessantly, though she didn’t know it until it happened.
NO! she commanded herself, yet again. She crushed the image, chasing it from her thoughts for the thousandth time.
I’m not going to give in. It’s a trick!
Furiously, she listed all the reasons she hated them both: the games, the lies, the terror. Yanking her out of her life like she was merely a toy. Feeding her blood, turning her into a monster.
A monster, she repeated to herself, tonguing the tips of her own small, needle-sharp fangs. That’s what I am now.
Gunner slumped forward, rubbing his thumb against the wound to accelerate its healing. He pulled his sleeve down with fingers that trembled only slightly and re-buttoned the cuff.
She saw him through the bleary haze of her vision, his head down, his hands limp.
“You all right?” she asked him, her voice thick.
“Fine,” he snapped irritably, sitting up straight and tugging his sleeves back into alignment as though nothing had happened.
“I’m sorry… did I hurt you?” she slurred, drunk on his blood. She reached out without thinking and touched his hand. He winced, glancing up at her before he caught himself.
As soon as their eyes met, she saw it. She had indeed hurt him. She could feel his confusion, his concern wrapped in a tight grip of self-control. But the hurt seemed constant, ancient. It seemed almost like his natural state.
And beneath that, like a mirror reflection, she could see the kiss. He was thinking about it too. It spawned the same sort of ache in him that it spawned in her. An ache he was also desperate to deny. An ache that seemed both formless and pervasive, as though it threaded through every part of him, as deep as he could go.
“Gunner,” she choked, “I didn’t know…”
Scowling, Gunner drew his arm back and thrust it through his coat sleeve.
“You don’t know anything, Tesa,” he muttered, turning in his seat and looking out the window. “Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER 16
When they reached the club, Jamie pulled the Bentley up alongside the velvet rope and stopped. He opened the door and Gunner got out first, holding out his hand for Tesa to take.
The crowd seemed to reflexively shrink in awe. Tesa stood still for a moment as they inspected her, whispering loudly among themselves. The alleycat part of her wanted to run away, to dart off between dumpsters and hide. But the part of her that was seething with vampire blood wanted to show off, to let everybody look at her and wonder how she had gotten what they all seemed to want.
And that part was winning.
The bouncer stepped out from behind his podium, massive and hulking in his blood red suit. His fangs were out, shamelessly overlapping his lower lip as he looked Tesa up and down. At first he seemed only vaguely intrigued but then his expression darkened. His eyes flickered toward Gunner in an unspoken question, and Gunner simply raised a palm in answer.
Unhooking the rope from its post, the bouncer held out an arm in welcome and Tesa passed through, trying not to shrink from the stares of the onlookers. Mostly college-age cringe-kids, they were dressed in a way that seemed cartoonishly Baroque. Almost every girl had her neck and cleavage exposed in invitation, while the men brooded ostentatiously from behind their eyeliner and self-consciously messed up hair. There was a blatant overuse of velvet and black lace and a lot of fingerless gloves.
Who the hell do these kids think they’re trying to impress? Tesa wondered to herself. Marilyn Manson circa 1998?
“Why, yes, something like that,” Gunner confirmed as he maneuvered her through the carved archway and into the nearly black club interior.
“I didn’t even say that… Are you reading my mind or what?”
Still drunk from his blood, Tesa could barely conceal her irritation, but she did notice his smirk.
“Of course,” he sniffed, guiding her along the velvety black back wall. “I can’t believe you finally noticed.”
“That hardly seems fair. Kind of rude, really,” she pouted. “Why can’t I read your mind?”
“Maybe if you were a little less self involved, you could.”
Offended, Tesa tensed her shoulders, forcing Gunner to pivot toward her. Even in the near-blackness, she could make out every figure by the outline of its electrons, and she could see Gunner most of all. He was lit up like a carnival ride at night, throbbing with life.
“I was just kidding,” he sighed. “Be patient. You’ll learn to do so many things if you let them happen.”
“And them?” Tesa asked, jerking her head toward the line of hopeful near-children against the wall. “What will they learn how to do?”
“Hopefully, they will learn how to be afraid,” he replied tensely.
She stared at them, trying to understand. Though she assumed she would be bitten sooner or later, the thought still filled her with dread and half-remembered dream images that made her want to vomit or scream.
“So… no connection? No magic? But they still want someone to bite them? For what?”
“I’m sure they have their reasons,” Gunner muttered dismissively, but Tesa already could guess. Curiosity, the coolness factor, the emo kid romance of it all… Plus Jolie had outright said that there was money in it. “Set for life,” was the phrase Jolie had used. Although, imprisoned and leashed was not the picture Tesa would have chosen, if she had had any say in it.
Gunner pressed forward, guiding Tesa along the plush red carpet to the main archway. He didn’t seem interested in the onlookers at all. He seemed focused.
As soon as they entered, Tesa breathed deeply. The air was immediately different, thin and highly oxygenated. She could feel her lungs swelling and the sensation was almost like mint.
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It felt like entering a delicious kitchen. The smells were earthy, iron-soaked. The music throbbed below her human hearing, stroking her supernatural senses in a way that was beyond sensual. Instantly she felt herself curious and even aroused, then ashamed.
“Think nothing of it, princess,” Gunner purred reassuringly against her ear. “Happens to the best of us.”
She swatted him with the back of her hand, pushing herself away. “You know, I really don't like it when you poke into my mind like that. It's extremely rude!”
To her complete surprise, Gunner reached out and grabbed her by the elbow, yanking her back toward him and pressing himself along her backside. His other arm snaked around the front of her and clutched her tightly about the middle.
“Listen, let’s get one thing straight,” he snarled, reminding her much more of Stark in that moment. “You are not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. This is my place. These are my people. This is not some biker bar full of drunks and convicts you can push around. You would do well to stay close to me.”
Tesa tried to pull away, but he held her fast.
“Knock it off, Gunner,” she hissed back to him. “You two are always trying to scare me, and I'm not buying it anymore. Now let me go or —”
“— absolutely not,” he growled. His tone was deadly serious and she shrank a little in his grasp, sensing the truth of it all. “For once in your life, Tesa, do as I say. Do not leave my sight… if you want to leave here alive.”
“They look fine to me,” she muttered stubbornly as Gunner guided her through the wide hallway into an enormous antechamber, not letting more than an inch pass between them.
There were rows of young women lined against the wall. They seemed like any other women she would have found at any other club. Eyes wide, pupils dilated, they stood there, swaying slightly as the music pushed them around like spineless animals in a swirling tide pool.
“Do they really? Look again,” Gunner whispered.
As she passed by the last of them, Tesa took a closer look. The girl, who seemed to be about twenty-one or twenty-two years old, was standing with her shoulders against the wall. Her lips were parted slightly, and the tip of her tongue poked out. Tesa could see the hummingbird-fast flutter of her pulse in the hollow between her collarbones, but she didn't move.
“What is she —”
Tesa's voice fell away as her eyes met those of a man she hadn't seen it first. Tall and bony, he seemed to materialize out of nothing. He looked directly at Tesa with penny-bright eyes while his fingers closed around the upper arm of the young woman.
Curling his upper lip back, he revealed long, stained fangs that slid out in slow motion, almost lasciviously. With a leer, he stuck out his tongue and pushed it underneath his right fang, thrusting it until he impaled his own tongue on the point.
“Oh my God!”
Tesa thought that she could hear him chuckling as Gunner pulled her away, into the middle of the room.
“Did he know me? He looked at me like he knew who I am!”
Gunner dipped his head, dropping his mouth so that his lips brushed the outside of her ear and only she could hear him. The music pulsed against them on all sides, enclosing them in an envelope of sound.
“He doesn't know who you are,” he assured her. “Probably not anyway. But if we stay here too long, he's going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out? He already has a girl, he —”
“— you're not like others, Tesa. Not at all.”
Tesa let him pull her closer and held onto his arms. The music, the smells, the surge of fear that the vamp had sparked in her had made her little bit lightheaded. Holding onto Gunner helped to steady her.
Dammit, that's just what he wants, she reminded herself.
“Just relax, Tesa. Try to enjoy yourself, why don't you?”
“I am enjoying myself,” she shot back.
Gunner chuckled deep in his chest and drew her even tighter. “I love it that you are playing hard to get,” he whispered in her ear, his lips just brushing her lobe and sending shivers down her spine.
Tesa tensed, planting her heels firmly on the floor and leaning back so that he had less of a hold on her.
“You know what? Why don’t you just shut up and dance already?” she challenged him.
“Excellent idea, princess. Absolutely splendid.”
And before she knew what was happening, Gunner’s hands had slipped down her arms and found her wrists. Shifting her balance, she found herself turning outward, then snapping back. Her feet slid gracefully along the floor, stepping quickly in exactly the right spots just as she thought of them. When he drew her back close again, she caught her breath in surprise.
“What the hell was that?” she breathed.
“Don't think too much. Just feel it,” he smirked. “Open your mind and let the music just tell you what to do. Trust me.”
She wanted to object, but then couldn't. Already she found her body responding to the low, sensual thrum. Her hips swiveled in time to music that she could only describe as visceral . It seemed to enter her from all sides.
Without even meaning to, she raised her chin, finding his eyes in the near blackness. The connection was automatic, practically mechanical. As soon as her eyes met his, the circuit was completed. She knew exactly what to do.
Every time that he shifted his weight even slightly, she responded automatically, perfectly. Swaying, arching her back, executing complicated steps she could only have ever dreamed of before, she found herself able to close the distance between what she imagined and what she could physically do. It was as though as soon as the thought popped into her head, her body obeyed without restraint or self-doubt.
And it wasn't just her. It was him, and she knew it. He moved her in ways she had only ever dreamt of. Every gesture he made was as beautiful and perfect as though they had rehearsed it. As though they had danced together a million times. He knew exactly what her body could do, and she responded by doing exactly what he wanted.
Gradually, she let herself feel everything. With her eyes locked on his she let her defenses fall away so that she could really experience the connection. It was as though he spoke directly to the deepest parts of her. She barely needed to acknowledge his thoughts before she obeyed them happily, gratefully. The less she struggled, the easier it was to dance with him, to be near him, to understand him.
“Do it, Tesa,” he whispered to her. “Open your mind.”
Tentatively, she did as he told her to. Just a little bit at first, she let herself be fully conscious of her body, of his body, of the air around them. It was like a sphere that enclosed just them. A perfectly safe space.
She wanted more.
Almost effortlessly then, she seemed to feel the whole room at once. She could feel other people near them, people she could barely see in the darkness. She could make them out in silhouettes as clearly as if they were MRI images. She could feel the racing heartbeats of the row of girls along the wall. She could hear the combined mouth-breathing of another dozen or so Goth kids in their steam punk, black lipstick finery.
Even without really trying, she could hold all of this at once in her mind and still focus absolutely on Gunner. As he moved her body close to his, then away from his in time with the music, she could feel his confidence. The strength and thickness of his limbs. She knew that he felt she was as delicate and weightless as a doll. She could sense how dancing with her with such a deep pleasure for him. How he felt satisfied and delighted every time she obeyed his subtle physical commands.
The music changed, becoming more intense and slightly faster. Gunner didn't even hesitate. He modified his style of dancing to be more tribal, even more sensual. It took her breath away. With deft fingers on the small of her back he positioned her hips against his hips and rocked back and forth rhythmically. It wasn't like sex, but it wasn't completely unlike sex either, and she felt herself bite her lip so hard she almost drew blood.
“Don't do that,�
�� Gunner groaned.
She knew exactly what he meant. She didn't even need to hear the words. He meant that her presence, her life, her blood was almost too much for him to bear. She could feel it throbbing just under the surface of his demeanor. He wanted her, and it was almost unbearable for him.
He wanted her physically, and that was the easiest part to understand. It was lust. Stronger lust than normal men would have for her, she was sure. But still it was almost as clear as a taste on her tongue.
But below that, it was something else. It was hunger . Aching, screaming hunger that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. He needed her blood. He needed someone's blood, because he was…
Oh my God, he's practically starving, she thought to herself.
She gasped at the realization, and he shook his head sadly. She could feel the thought: he wanted to reassure her. He wanted her to know that no matter how desperately he hungered, it wasn't time yet. He had the strength to resist, but barely.
Just barely. It was like a skin stretched over a frantically beating heart. Pull it too much in any direction, and the skin would tear…
Suddenly he pulled away. He broke eye contact with her and gripped her by the shoulders, his head pivoted as though listening hard for something.
“What is it?” she stammered, suddenly almost blind in the near darkness. Without the connection to him, she found her senses uncomfortably blunted.
He seemed to sniff the air, as alert and wary as an animal. Then he grabbed her hand and began tracing a path to the corner of the room.
“Stay close to me!” he commanded her.
They wove through the oblivious crowd, stepping lightly and swiftly, so fast that regular people probably didn't even notice them pass through. As they darted through a stone archway into a blue-lit chamber, Tesa thought she saw someone slipping just out of sight, just around the corner. Two twin, braided ropes and a long, elegant arm.
“Jolie?” she choked. Her hand fluttered to her lips as she looked up at Gunner.
“Just stay close!”
