Stripping down to skin, she left the clothes in a pile, and climbed into the shower. The events of this evening kept playing back in her head, and it wasn’t a flattering picture. She’d been scared out of her mind, and there was no denying it. Sure, she’d managed to fight off her attacker, but she’d been useless when it came to Alon. There’d just been so much blood! She’d never seen anything like it before.
Maybe that’s why Christian hadn’t even bothered to tell her “good night.” Or why he hadn’t spoken to her since they’d piled into her car. But what did he expect? She’d never even been close to anything like that before. The noise alone had been terrifying—roaring engines and screeching tires, the guns and the screams! It wasn’t anything like the movies. It was just unrelenting noise. A barrage of sound that had hurt her ears, and scraped every nerve raw until she could barely think. And then there’d been Alon, lying on the ground, surrounded by a growing pool of blood . . . and her brain had simply gone blank.
She sank to the floor of the shower, knees hugged to her chest, wishing for Christian’s powerful arms, for the strength of his big body wrapped around her, keeping her warm, keeping her safe. She tightened her jaw and drew a deep breath. “Suck it up, Nat,” she said. Christian had no time to hold her fucking hand. He was too busy saving Alon’s life.
She climbed to her feet, and finished washing away the blood, then shampooed and rinsed her hair twice before she was satisfied it was clean. She dried herself off and pulled on her sweats to sleep in. Her usual little nightgown made her feel too vulnerable today. She slid under the covers and lay there, listening to every creak and crack in the big house. She wondered if they had any alcohol in the kitchen. A glass of wine might help relax her enough to sleep. Otherwise she didn’t see how . . .
Sleep took her between one breath and the next.
Chapter Ten
ALON WAS LYING next to him when Christian woke the next night. As a new vampire, he wouldn’t wake for a while yet, but that first awakening would be hard. This was true for every new vampire, but it would be especially traumatic for Alon, given the violence of his near death, and the abrupt nature of his transition. He would need blood, and not just any blood either. Only Christian’s blood would suffice tonight. First, because it cemented the bond between vampire and Sire. But in this case, there was a more important reason; Alon would need the healing strength that only a powerful vampire like Christian could give him.
Christian had some time before that happened, though. Younger vampires rose from their enforced sleep much later than their elders. Strength was a factor in that, too, but there was no way of knowing how powerful Alon would be, this early in his new life. As a vampire lord—or at least as a vampire powerful enough to be a lord—Christian woke as soon as the fireball of the sun dropped below the horizon, despite the light still burning across the sky. That gave him at least two hours before Alon would wake enough to need him.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he sat up and searched the house with his vampire-enhanced senses. Marc was just beginning to wake; another fifteen minutes and he’d be fully alert. Upstairs, Natalie slept, but not well. Her mind was restless, and he suspected if he went to her, he’d find her emotions in turmoil, as well. It didn’t exactly surprise him. Last night had been troubling by anyone’s standards. What did surprise him was that she was still here at all. She hadn’t lived the kind of life that exposed her to this level of violence, and he’d half expected her to be on a plane back to the bayou, where she’d never again have to deal with vampires, and most especially not with him.
Of course, there was Alon to consider. Maybe she’d only hung around to make sure he was okay.
Christian took a quick shower and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, going commando, and leaving his feet bare. There was no need to dress more formally, he’d be back here soon enough. He checked to be sure Alon was still resting peacefully, then opened his bedroom door. Marc emerged into the hallway a moment later, still wrapped in a towel from his own shower.
“Keep an eye on him,” he told Marc, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to check on Natalie.” He started for the closed vault door. It wouldn’t open until he entered the security code.
“You think she heard what Weiss said about Anthony?” Marc asked “About him wanting her alive?”
Christian frowned. “If she didn’t, she’ll figure it out. It’ll be better if I tell her up front. She’ll be pissed otherwise.”
“Fucking Anthony. What happens now?”
“Now I stop dicking around and take the damn territory. Fuck the challenge. I need to find Anthony and kill him.”
“What about Stefano Barranza? You think he’s dropped out?”
Christian shook his head. “I think he’s down in Mexico causing mischief that’s going to bite us in the ass when we’re not looking. It would be easy to forget about him, but that might be just what he’s hoping for.”
“I’ll check around, see if there’s any word on his whereabouts.”
“And I’m going to talk to Natalie.”
“Better you than me.”
“Only me,” Christian said, feeling his possessive instincts flaring bright and hard.
Marc grinned. “I’ll keep an ear out for Alon.”
“I won’t be long.”
Christian entered the twelve-digit security code. The heavy door popped open an inch, and he shoved it the rest of the way. The computer console where Marc worked was silent, no alarms, no flashing message notifications. Nothing had happened during the day that their programming considered worth telling him about. But then, most everyone he’d expect to hear from after last night had been asleep all day, just like him.
He took the stairs two at a time, emerging into the quiet of the upstairs hallway. Natalie’s door was closed, but he could hear the sheets rustling as she tossed and turned, trying to sleep. He knocked, but didn’t wait before opening it. He felt her heartbeat kick up in alarm, and she rolled to the far side of the bed, dragging the covers with her, her eyes wide and staring.
“Natalie.”
“Christian,” she breathed. She dropped face-first into the sheets for a moment, then lifted her head with a relieved smile. “I didn’t think to check the time. The sun’s down?” she asked, then scolded herself. “Well, obviously the sun is down. Duh.”
“Get dressed, chére. We need to talk.”
“Alon?” she asked, and her face lost all of its usual color.
“Alon is fine,” he assured her.
“Then what—”
“Get dressed. I’ll make coffee.” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He closed the door and headed for the kitchen, where he found peace in the routine of using his machine, and was soon enjoying his first espresso. He had no doubt there would be more cups of the dark brew, because this was promising to be that kind of a night. Natalie showed up just a few minutes later. Her face was clean of makeup, her long hair pulled into a neat ponytail, and she wore a pair of loose sweat pants, with a cardigan sweater pulled over a belly-baring T-shirt.
He tried not to stare, as he imagined what was under the sweater. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and even that glimpse of flat belly was making him want her. His cock felt heavy, and his fangs ached with the desire for her blood. This wasn’t hunger. He was powerful enough to go days without feeding. This was something else. This was the need to claim his woman. He didn’t want blood; he wanted Natalie’s blood. And then he wanted to fuck her brains out.
Whatever happened next was up to her, however. She was the vulnerable one. If she decided she wanted to go home, he’d do his best to get her there safely, and make sure she stayed that way with no interference from him.
He leaned against the counter, sipping his espresso, and watching over the rim of his cup as she walked into the kitchen. She shuffled righ
t up to him and put her hands on either side of his waist, her eyes big and shadowed with doubt, as if uncertain of her reception. Going up on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his and demanded a kiss.
Christian’s lips curved with satisfaction. Setting his cup on the counter, he wrapped his arms around her back, yanked her against him, and surrendered to the need that had been tightening his chest from the moment he’d opened her bedroom door. Her lips opened willingly beneath his, her tongue warm and delicate as he captured it and sucked hard, before stroking his own tongue over every inch of her luscious mouth.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, because if he didn’t say something, he was going to fuck her right there in the kitchen.
Natalie’s eyes were blurry with desire, which did nothing to ease his straining erection. She smiled sweetly in response to his question, and said, “No, I didn’t. I was worried about Alon, and then you—”
“Alon is no longer your concern.” Christian knew he was overreacting, but he couldn’t stop the hot stab of possessiveness that turned his words into an angry snarl.
She blinked in surprise, then scowled right back at him. “Look,” she snapped. “I know you’re all big macho vampire and everything, but Alon is still my best friend. If he needs anything, I have the right to help him.”
“Really? And what would that be, Natalie? This anything that only you can give him?”
She narrowed her eyes in irritation, lips pursed, thinking hard. “Blood,” she said suddenly, nearly spitting out the single word. But almost as soon as she said it, she slid her gaze away from his nervously. “I mean, if he needs blood, I could—”
Christian shifted his grip to her arms. “You don’t go near him right now,” he growled. “Do you know what happens when a vampire wakes for the first time? There is no thought, no reason, there is only hunger. He would rip out your throat and never blink an eye.”
“Alon would never—”
“He’s not your fucking Alon any longer. He’s mine.”
“I don’t under—“
“You know what else you don’t understand? You’re mine, Natalie. Your blood is mine. No one feeds from you but me, and I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
She seemed to stop breathing for a moment. He watched the meaning of what he’d said fill her eyes, saw her understand for the first time what was really happening when he drank from her. That fire in her veins when he bit her, the electric jolt that went right to her clit . . . it wasn’t just sex. It was nutrition, and she was his food. Knowing that he was vampire, and confronting what it really meant, were two different things.
He saw the shock of realization in her eyes, and he was suddenly cold. He set her away from his body, then opened his hands and let go of her arms. She wasn’t the first woman who’d rejected what he was, but she was the first one who’d mattered.
He felt his own eyes shutter, concealing whatever emotion she might read there. “I have to check on Alon,” he said quietly, and moved toward the door, but Natalie grabbed him, her grip surprisingly strong on his forearm.
“Stop that,” she demanded.
He gave her a cool look. “Stop what?”
“Stop pushing me away. You keep looking for a reason for us not to get closer. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me, it’s too dangerous, and now this bullshit. So I didn’t understand about Alon. Okay, I’ll learn. But that has nothing to do with you and me.”
“No? What were you thinking just now? I saw it in your face. You were horrified at the very idea of what I am, and what you are to me.”
“Oh, fuck that! So I reacted, so what? I’m not as good as you at controlling every little goddamned tic on my face. I’m not a machine like you are, I want to feel—”
He grabbed her again, holding her roughly against him. “You want to feel?” he growled against her cheek, his tongue following his words as he licked her skin. “Is that you want from me, chére?” He reached between their bodies and slid his hand into her sweatpants, finding nothing but bare skin. Stroking over her smooth belly, his fingers dipped between her thighs and found her naked and wet, her soft folds welcoming as he pushed two fingers deep into her pussy. “Do you feel that?” he whispered.
She shuddered, her entire body trembling against his as the sweet fragrance of her arousal filled his senses. He began pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb playing circles around the swollen nub of her clit, teasing, never touching. He didn’t want her to climax yet. He wanted her on the edge, begging to come. She wanted to feel? He’d make her fucking feel until she was screaming for release.
“Christian.” Her voice was a needy whisper as she moved against his hand, spreading her legs wider. “I want—” She broke off with a moan, a soft sound that ended in a sobbing breath.
“What do you want?” he murmured, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, licking the salty flavor of the tears leaking from beneath her eyelids.
“I want,” she started to say again, hesitating briefly before her eyes flashed open to stare into his. “I want you to bite me,” she said with a hiccupping breath. Her tears were rolling freely down her cheeks. “I want you.”
Christian stilled, his fingers buried deep inside her, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he stared at her.
“Christian,” she whispered. “Please.”
His fangs slid from his gums, aching for the thick, warm taste of her blood coating his throat. “Natalie,” he said. Just her name, but so much more. It was a question, and more than one. Was she sure that she wanted this? That she wanted him? Did she know what she was asking?
“Yes,” she said, seeming to understand. “I want you, just as you are.”
Christian bent his head, his mouth going to the taut curve of her neck, sucking at the thick roll of her vein until it was plump and ready, bursting with the rich bounty of her blood. His fangs grazed over her tender skin—once, twice. And then he bit her, groaning with pleasure as the warm honey of her blood filled his mouth and slid down his throat.
Natalie buried her face against his shoulder as he bit her, sinking her teeth into the thick muscle, muffling cries of pain that quickly changed to desire, as his bite sent waves of raw need cutting through her veins. Her belly clenched under his hand, and she gasped when he stroked his thumb directly over her clit, softly at first, then pressing down until she bucked against him, her pussy squeezing his fingers as she bit back her moans, clinging to him in order to remain upright in the throes of her orgasm.
Christian’s fangs were anchored to her throat, his arm banded around her back, the fingers of one hand digging into her hip. He waited until she was nearly limp in his arms, until there was nothing but the occasional jolt as her body recovered from her orgasm. Then, holding her still, he withdrew his fangs, relishing the last few drops of her sweet blood as he licked the wounds shut. With a final teasing stroke over her sensitive clit, he pulled his fingers from her pussy. They were coated in the cream of her orgasm.
“Natalie,” he murmured. He waited until her eyes opened in a hazy focus, and then he brought his fingers up to his mouth and deliberately licked them clean, savoring every bit of her juices.
She blushed furiously, and buried her face against his chest. “You’re horrible,” she said.
“That’s not the impression I got,” he replied smugly. “Perhaps I need to try again.” He slid his hand teasingly over her belly again, but she stopped him, pressing her body tightly against his and wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I don’t think I’d survive it,” she muttered, then noticed the bloody mark of her teeth where his neck met his shoulder, just visible above his T-shirt. She touched it carefully. “I’m sorry,” she said, but he shook his head and covered her fingers with his, rubbing the injured spot.
“Don’t be sorry. It marks me as yours, just as my bite marks you. Vampires ar
e a possessive lot, chére. You should know that before we take this any further. I’m a vampire lord, whether I have a territory yet or not, and you’re mine. If that’s not what you want, then—”
She put her fingers over his lips. “Stop. I told you. You’re what I want. And, don’t forget, it goes both ways. You’re mine, too.”
“Always,” he said, and was surprised to discover he meant it.
Natalie’s smile was beautiful, her feelings written on her face and in her eyes. “I have to shower,” she told him. “You want to join me?”
He shook his head. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I wasn’t being mean earlier. Alon really does need me tonight, and he’ll be waking soon.”
“You were being a little mean,” she said gently, “but that’s okay. I’m going to get dressed, and go through those files that I—”
“We need to talk about that,” he interrupted. “And about last night.”
She frowned. “You think last night had something to do with the files?”
“Maybe,” he said. He wasn’t convinced the two things were connected, but he didn’t believe in coincidence either. Not when it came to vampire politics. “You go ahead and shower, and after I get Alon settled, you and I and Marc will talk.”
“Okay.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed him. “Give Alon a kiss for me,” she said saucily. She spun away and headed out of the kitchen, but not before Christian slapped her pretty little ass and growled a wordless warning.
She was clearly terrified. Or at least, that’s what Christian told himself as she laughed all the way to her bedroom.
Mexico City, Mexico
Vincent stared down at the contract sitting before him. The paragraphs of constipated words went on and on, saying things that any moron would have known without being told. Why did lawyers feel the need to spell out every insignificant detail, covering their asses against the most unlikely outcomes, including possibilities that simple common sense should have argued against?
Christian (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 10) Page 25
