by Eve Langlais
Either I was dealing with ghosts or magic. Either way, it was an oh shit moment. As if my life wasn’t messed up enough already.
Where was a werewolf to hide behind when you needed one?
I raised my knife—wished for a gun with serious firepower—and aimed at the opening.
The door swung open, and Anthony grinned at me. “Evening.”
I caught flies with my open mouth.
“You fucking, jerk!” I yelled. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Speaking in a voice I recognized instead of his I’m-A-Psycho-Killer one, and completely unrepentant, he said, “Good. I wanted to see if you were smart enough to not answer blind.”
“I didn’t, and yet you managed to get in. How the fuck did you do that?”
He waggled his fingers. “A parlor trick.”
I glared.
“Would you believe I possess a sexy magnetism?”
Yes, but I still glared some more.
“What if I said magic?”
That didn’t remove my glower at all because if he had magic then he had some explaining to do.
“Is this where I apologize for scaring you and tell you I brought candy?”
Not completely mollified, I still took the peace offering of Belgian chocolate in the pretty gold box.
I ate a piece—the rich, dark chocolate melting on my tongue, releasing my tension—and sighed in pleasure before asking, “What are you doing here?” Because I’d assumed when I didn’t hear from him all day that he’d cancelled our Monday night date.
“I came to spend quality time.”
“You could have called.”
“Why would I do that when we already had plans? Or did you already forget about the schedule we devised yesterday at brunch?”
Ah yes, their plan to share me. “I didn’t forget, but it’s not like you told me a set time. I think it’s logical for me to have assumed you’d canceled given the hour.”
“The hour? It’s not late.”
“You do realize it’s after nine?” Working girls, despite what television portrayed, went to bed at reasonable hours on weeknights so they could drag their asses out of bed for work the next day.
“Is this a hint we should hurry to bed?”
Heat invaded my veins and I couldn’t help a shiver at his implication.
Stepping into my apartment, into my personal space, Anthony approached me as I moved back. Despite him not touching it, a rapid heartbeat later, the door slammed shut.
More magic.
Or ghosts.
The latter I could call a priest about, the first…Why could Anthony suddenly do magic?
“You are seriously freaking me out.” And then he really scared me because, between one blink and the next, Anthony disappeared from sight. What the fuck!
Arms encircled me from behind. My knife, which I’d forgotten I held, went flying and bounced hilt first on the couch. Before I could scream, I found myself spun and thoroughly kissed.
As embraces went, it was actually rather nice, hot even, and it totally turned me on. Not that I let it sway me. When Anthony let me breathe again, I lost my mind.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing some time with my girlfriend won’t fix.” He had the nerve to smirk.
He called me his girlfriend!
Cute, but I was way too wigged out still to appreciate it. “First, I am not your girlfriend.” Fuck buddy, yes. Anything more, no. “Second, you scared the pants off me.”
Down he peered. “I wish. Is that flannel?”
“Yes, it is, because I wasn’t expecting company, especially not company who gets his kicks frightening women and then does some freaky-ass thing to my door.”
“Didn’t you get my note with the flowers? I told you I was coming over.”
Yes, but in the meantime, I’d helped my other screw buddy get out of jail, had sex twice, showered, and convinced myself that no one would dare kill a girl in pink flannel jammies adorned with fluffy sheep. I’d also thought Anthony changed his mind.
“It’s late. I thought you forgot. And don’t change the subject, mister. What the hell was that whole freaky-stranger routine at my door?”
“I was testing you.”
“For what? A heart condition?” Good news. Blood pressure was up, but I’d yet to fall to the ground paralyzed or twitching. I’d however probably lost about ten years of my life.
“I just wanted to make sure you were practicing some safety. With a killer on the loose, not to mention other innumerable criminal types, I wanted to make sure you would—”
“What? Answer the door and invite a rapist in?” As my pulse slowed, my caustic tongue took over.
“Maybe my plan was ill advised. I apologize. However, perhaps now you’ll see my concern. You are not as safe here as you think. And really, a knife? As weapons go, you should have a firearm at the very least.”
So I was beginning to grasp. Calmer now, it occurred to me to ask how he’d managed to open my door. “Who gave you a key to my place?”
“No key.”
“But the locks. You undid them. And the chain too. Was it really magnets?” Some kind of new break-and-enter technology? Because my initial impulse to blame it on magic just couldn’t be true. Suit wearing, perfectly coiffed hair, hot shot DAs did not go around opening doors with forces I did not believe in.
“Would you believe I used my mind?” He tapped his temple with a finger.
“Bullshit.” The expletive slipped from me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.
“The truth. Watch.” He turned to face my door. Without him touching or making any movement at all, I could only stare in disbelief as the deadbolt tumbler turned, clicking into place while the chain rose like a sinuous serpent to latch itself in the slidebar.
Oh my freaking gawd. Or not. Didn’t Pete say Heaven didn’t exist?
“How did you do that? Are you some kind of magician? Do you have telekinetic powers just like an X-Man?” Did he fight crime wearing a tight leather suit? And, more important, could these special powers come in handy during sex?
“Slow down. I’ll answer everything if you but give me a moment.”
“I will not slow down. I want to know what the heck you are. You told me I could trust you. That you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“And I haven’t.”
Putting some space between us, I planted my hands on my hips. “You have special powers.”
“Yes, of a sort.”
“No, not of a sort. You do and you didn’t tell me. That’s lying.”
“No. That’s not spilling all my secrets at once. If you’d asked me directly, I would have told you.”
“Don’t you dare argue semantics with me.” Because I didn’t need a repeat of court, where he argued me into a corner and won. “You’re avoiding the question. What. Are. You?”
Stepping back from me, Anthony swept me a bow and under a sweep of hair that fell over his eyes said, “I am Maelruanaidh Mor mac Tadg, descendent of the kingdom of Loylurg, known in this century as Anthony Vanderson. Day-walking vampire at your service.”
Good thing I stood near the couch because I sat down hard. “A vampire.” My words emerged faintly. “Oh, good grief. Please tell me you’re kidding. This is a joke, right? You’re pretending to be a vampire because you can’t handle the fact that Pete’s a werewolf. You know this isn’t a competition. You don’t need to one-up him. I like you just fine as a human.”
“No joke, I’m afraid.”
Judging by his serious mien, he meant it. Fucking great. I wasn’t just shagging a werewolf; apparently, I was also screwing the undead, and I’d not even suspected it. I really needed to tone up on my people skills.
“Why are you telling me this now? I mean, you had to know I didn’t have a clue.”
“Before our relationship went any further, I felt it was time you knew the truth. Pete mentioned he’d—”
“Wait a second. You talked to Pete. When?
”
“After his release and his meeting with you. He called and told me you’d taken the news of the existence of other beings quite well.”
If by quite well he meant I’d not started drooling and banging my head off the wall while humming, then I guess I had. But hold on a second. Something he said penetrated my shock.
“You mean Pete knew what you were and didn’t tell me?”
“It wasn’t his secret to divulge.”
Maybe, but it didn’t mean I wouldn’t kill him. Okay, not kill him kill him, but he’d hear about my displeasure, loudly and in very unladylike terms.
“Great. Just freaking great. It’s not bad enough I have a werewolf determined to date me, now I have a bloody vampire too. This all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?”
“The reason why you’re interested in me. I should have known I couldn’t attract nice, ordinary human men. Oh no, lucky me, I get the freaks. The wolfman and the bloodsucker.” I buried my face in my hands. “Why couldn’t I just have a normal life?”
“Normalcy is overrated.”
The sofa cushion alongside me sank as he settled at my side. I didn’t resist the arm he placed around me. I didn’t shy away. Vampire or not, I didn’t fear him, nor did he repulse me. On the contrary, he might have gotten even sexier. Totally turned on or not, I did have an important question.
“I have to ask. Have you sucked blood from me?”
“Yes.”
“During sex?” While leaving behind that hickey, I’d wager.
“Yes.”
The nerve. I’d not agreed to being a blood donor or a free buffet. I should have shoved him away at that point. Socked him the gut at least. Ordered him to leave then chowed down on some garlic to keep him from coming back.
Instead, I queried, “So how do I taste?”
His lips teased the lobe of my ear as he whispered the answer. “Like ambrosia.”
“That’s good, right?”
“The best. You are better than any fine wine. More decadent than any treat. Tasting you as my body thrusts into your welcoming sex is the most heavenly sensation I’ve ever felt.”
Mmmm. Okay, that sounded way hotter than it should have, hot enough that my blood stirred. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I don’t lie. Your absolute exquisiteness is one of the reasons why I’m willing to put up with the fact you have a werewolf lover.”
“So you’re with me because I taste good?”
“I’m with you because you’ve turned my dull existence around. Since the moment I met you, you’ve intrigued me. Your sharp mind. Your forthright tongue. Your splendid body. Your confident attitude. Being around you is a pleasure in and of itself. For the first time in centuries, I feel alive.”
I dare any woman not to melt a little at a declaration like that. I didn’t prove immune. Turning my head, I caught his gaze, trying to ascertain if he jested, but his steady blue stare didn’t waver. And, this time, when his eyes flashed an electric blue, he didn’t turn away, and I couldn’t blame it on a trick of the lights.
“Your eyes…”
“Glow when my emotions are especially strong. Most of the time, I can control it, but around you, I am like a fledgling again. Prone to intense sensations that overwhelm.”
Me? Sasquatch-sized Chloe with the sharp tongue made an ancient vampire lose control? Move over, Edward, I have a new vampire to crush on. “I’ve got to confess something.”
“What?”
“I’ve always had a thing for vampires.” I honestly did. Or at least sexy ones who didn’t appear as cadavers and didn’t want to kill me.
“You’re not appalled then.”
“At this point, the only thing I am is horny. So unless you feel a need to dissect my emotions or give me lessons on being a vampire, I’d suggest you strip out of that suit before I demolish it.”
“I have more suits.”
Who could resist an invitation like that? I don’t know who dove on who first. Who cared? Fabric ripped, teeth clashed, and flesh slapped against flesh as we came together in a passionate rush, my limbs locked around his waist while he thrust into me. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back while he sucked on the hollow of my neck. I could have easily come. My body was more than willing. To my annoyance, he slowed his frantic pumps then withdrew entirely.
I whimpered. Lucky me, Anthony wasn’t done. He just had something different in mind. I lay splayed on my couch, my body naked and rosy with passion. Anthony knelt between my legs, his blond hair tickling my pale skin as he rubbed his cheeks against my inner thighs. His blue gaze caught mine as he lowered himself to lick my clit. I sucked in a breath. He lapped again, his tongue swirling and dancing, leaving me panting with pleasure.
“So tasty,” he murmured against my slick flesh.
“More,” I begged.
He complied. He worked my clit like a musician with an instrument, making it sing, pitching it to heights only a master of his craft could achieve. He brought me to a teetering apex of taut bliss, stringing it out until I thought I would die then retreating, ebbing me back down, just enough that I couldn’t crest. When my clit couldn’t handle anymore, he lapped at my pussy, spreading the moist lips, penetrating me with his tongue, spearing me with it. In my wantonness, my hips jerked, pressing against his mouth, demanding more. I needed something in me. Fingers, cock, anything. Something hard to fill the aching need he’d created.
As if sensing he’d driven me to sanity’s edge, he finally poised himself over me. I gazed up into his mesmerizing blue eyes, the inner glow so alien and yet sexy. He didn’t try to hide the tips of his fangs any longer, and they peeked from between his lips, their sharp points a sexy reminder of his vampire status.
A thrill went through me. My very own vampire lover. The dreamer in me, the romantic girl who’d once devoured everything to do with fanged lovers, shivered in anticipation.
“Bite me,” I whispered. “Bite me and fuck me.” Show me the pleasure and bring my fantasy to life.
A shudder went through him.
“You are a divine creature, Chloe,” he murmured.
Yeah, I knew that. But we could talk about that later when I wasn’t so horny. I locked my legs around his waist and drew him into me. His head went back, and he groaned. I squeezed his length, loving the thick feel of him in my sex. His cock answered with a pulse.
Down he came, his body covering mine, his lips catching mine in a torrid kiss as he began to thrust into me, rhythmically. In and out, a steady pace, one that made me gasp each time the head of him sank deep.
His mouth left mine and travelled, devouring the edge of my jaw, toying with the lobe of my ear, and I tracked his movement because I knew what was coming. Knew and wanted it. When he finally bit me, a tiny pinch that I was waiting for, euphoria swept through me. Unlike our previous encounter, I was fully aware he sucked on my blood. That he fed from me. It was even better than expected. I urged him on. How could I not, with ecstasy pouring through me, energizing me, driving my pleasure to heights only before imagined? I opened my mouth in a silent scream as I came, my body trembling and squeezing around his driving cock, milking him until, with a final thrust, he came within me.
Chests heaving, bodies entwined, we lay in a mess of limbs on my couch.
“Wow,” I gasped when I regained the power of speech.
He chuckled. “Is this where I say you’re welcome?”
I slapped him lightly. “Hey, I played a part.”
“You were the entire sum of the reason for the pleasure. Never doubt that.”
Shifting himself, he tugged me until I sat upon his lap, our legs extended on the couch, my head resting back against his chest. Cradled thus, I could feel the thump of his heart and found myself brimming with questions. First and foremost, “Why don’t you seem dead?”
A rumble beneath my head made me vibrate as he laughed. “Because I’m not. Vampirism is a genetic change. A cell mutation if you will. I am just as
alive as a human. I breathe. I bleed. My heart beats. All of my organs function pretty much the same as before.”
“But?”
“But vampires are something more than human. Think of vampirism as a virus. It invades the body, but in this case, it changes the cellular structure. Improves it. As soon as we go through the change, aging is stopped. Our ability to heal increases a thousand fold. We become sensitive to ultra violet rays and hunger for the nutrients found only in fresh blood.”
“Hold on a second, if you’re so sensitive to ultra violet rays, how come you can go outside? Shouldn’t you, like, burn to a crisp?” Did he have to invest in super-duper sunblock?
“I would burn alive were it not for a magical binding placed upon me.”
“Magic?” There was that pesky word again. For a girl who hadn’t known magic existed a few days ago, I seemed to come across a lot of examples of it lately. “You mean you have a spell that makes you immune to the sun’s rays?”
“A very costly, but well worthwhile, spell. You’ve seen the tattoo on my back?”
I was almost embarrassed to admit I hadn’t. Last time I was with Anthony, I found myself more focused on other things, such as how quickly I could get him inside me. “Flip around and show me.”
Dumped off his lap, I sat on the couch as he stood, long lean lines moving with a grace I found utterly sexy. Where Pete was all raw, animalistic masculinity, Anthony was elegance personified, every motion calculated and fluid. Turning around, he laced his fingers behind his head, pulling the skin of his back taut. “Wow.” Once again, my massive vocabulary sprang from my lips. But, really, I don’t know if there existed a better word to describe the art on his back. And it was art, of the most incredible kind.
Where the skin of his body was pale all over—with good reason as it turned out—his back displayed a colorful canvas. There, in glaring relief, from one shoulder to the next, from his neck down to the crease of his buttocks, was an intricate tattoo, a plethora of odd symbols and raised, ridged flesh. I peered closer at the almost Egyptian-like images and squiggles done in a rainbow of colors, trying to make sense of the abstract art.
