A Venetian Vampire
Page 12
She shivered and brushed her upper arms with her palms. Could she truly have been created by a vampire who was also a vampire hunter?
* * *
Dante tugged off his shirt and tossed it over the back of the tufted Louis XIV chair sitting in the corner of the white-walled bedroom. He paced before the open windows. There were no screens, and the sheer curtains billowed softly with the salted breeze. He kicked off his shoes and shoved them against the wall.
He fisted a hand and punched the air. This man Kyler wanted to hand the egg over to was the furthest thing from a friend Dante could possibly imagine. They were talking about the same man: King, the founder of the Order of the Stake.
Was he truly also vampire?
Of course he was. He had transformed Kyler.
What must he do with this information? The Council should know. How could they not know? Did they know? No, they couldn’t possibly, because they would never condone such genocide at the hands of one of their own. Maybe. The Council was the overseeing governing body for all paranormals, and it was notorious for watching but never acting. On the Council sat a few dozen members who represented various species. They didn’t make laws, but they did try to keep things in order within the mortal realm.
Dante was unsure about how to approach them. But to ignore the information about a man who headed an organization designed to take out vampires when he was a vampire himself?
What had he stumbled onto?
Dante had come to Venice in the hope to get the all-important spell back and again safely secure it away. The task should have been simple. Take back what had once been entrusted to him. Lock it away. Go on with his life.
But now...
That spell must be kept out of the wrong hands. Especially King’s hands. When Zara had given him ownership of the spell she had specifically said King wanted it and mustn’t have it. Dante hadn’t given the man much thought after putting the egg in the safe at the Austrian castle. He’d thought all was well.
But now it was not. Because although Kyler believed the spell granted a vampire eternity, Dante knew it did otherwise.
Could King possibly know the truth? It made much more sense to Dante if the man did. He must, if he and Zara had struggled over ownership of it so many decades earlier. And if King had not revealed he was a vampire hunter to Kyler, of course he would not tell her the truth about the spell.
Kyler had introduced a twist. And much as Dante should walk away with the egg in hand, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to her should she not obtain the egg for King. She thought she was doing a friend a favor. Should she not hand over the egg, would he slay her?
The truth about the egg’s power would serve the Order of the Stake far more than the lie King had told Kyler would.
She was caught in something much bigger than she could possibly imagine. Should he tell her the truth? It would force her to see King for what he was. A manipulator who was only using her.
And the spell, if enacted, may end up killing her. And Dante.
Chapter 10
“Come to me,” Dante’s voice called from the bedroom.
Kyler had been pacing in the foyer. Glancing into the office and catching sight of the red book on the shelf. Then a few paces took her to the front door. Open it and run. And back down the foyer to stand before the open office door. Pull the book out and use the combination he gave you.
But what would she be running to now? She’d gotten out her cell phone to call King and then remembered she didn’t have his number. He’d kept her on a need-to-know basis. Strange, now that she considered it. Why hadn’t he called her? Surely he’d seen the news and wanted to get the egg.
She sighed and glanced up the stairs. She knew what Dante wanted from her. He was a man. And when men got what they wanted? They tossed her aside and forgot she ever existed.
Yet Dante already had what he wanted. He’d claimed her as a notch. He had the egg in his possession—mostly. He could toss her aside with ease. But that he’d given her the safe combination proved he either trusted her or he was a raging egomaniac who believed no one would ever undermine him.
He was a bit of both. A handsome egomaniac. With an enchanting kiss and devastating eyes. And a broken heart that had pressed him to seek immortality from the vampire’s bite, just as she had.
She wanted him again, damn her. She wanted to glide her hands along his skin and feel his muscles pulse under her palms. To share his intimate pain. To taste his salt and musk. To feed on his blood and satisfy a craving she’d not realized she had until she’d met him.
“Kyler?”
She shook her head. She didn’t need more heartache. She was only just rising from the sadness over her mother’s death. Dante had had a long time to recover from that equal pain. And yet...there was so much more to her and him than mere sex.
She knew that. But did he?
She glanced up the stairway. Could Dante protect her from King? Did she need protection? All that she believed about King could be a lie. Of course she needed protection.
Kyler padded up the stairs, pulling off her shirt and dropping it in her wake. She unbuttoned her pants and slid them down as she entered the cool bedroom. Dante sat on the open windowsill, shirtless, the moon dancing in his eyes.
She wanted him. And she would have him. On her terms.
“So you want me again?” She unhooked her bra and dropped it at her feet as Dante looked from her bare breasts to her face.
“I do.”
“Then kneel, vampire.”
A tiny smile curled the corner of his mouth as he glanced out the window. The waters were calm and yet glittered with moonlight. Scents of the city wafted in. Salt, seaweed, limestone and motor oil from passing boats. She could sense his increased heartbeat. The seductive perfume of his want. The heat of his presence.
“As you wish.” The darkly seductive vampire slid onto the floor in a sinuous move, kneeling but inches from her legs. The room grew smaller, and Kyler could hear every breath he made, every slip of fabric over his skin. Her heart thundered in response to the desperate ache of wanting. Before he touched her, he paused and looked up into her eyes. “Please?”
Kyler shivered with the immensity of her position. Of her control over this exquisite man. “Yes.”
The first touch of his lips to her thigh shimmered through her. Two vampires touching. A signal of recognition. Always that brief, telling electricity. Yet the shimmer swiftly changed to desire, needy and intense. His hands glided over her skin, tracing her bare hips and around to cup her ass. A hot breath warmed her bare mons, and his nose nudged the uppermost part of her labia. A tease that held so much promise.
When he glanced upward and his eyes fixed to hers in a quiet plea, she wanted to gasp out, “Please hurry—do it now.” But Kyler resisted. She was the one in control. So she slid her hands through his hair and, gripping it, pulled his head back from her heat. She leaned down. “If you want to taste me there, you must also taste my blood.”
Moving her fingers down to trace his hairline, she landed them on his mouth and teased open his lips. She asked a lot of him. He avoided the bite as he avoided true and genuine intimacy. But she needed it from him to prove that she was more than just one of the many women he’d loved.
She tapped the tip of one of his fangs. To linger on that hard incisor would give him an incredible orgasmic sensation, so she did not. With a moan, he licked her fingers and gently bit the forefinger. He took her hand, kissed the palm of it, then set it free as he nuzzled his mouth to her clit and pierced her hot wetness with his tongue.
Kyler moaned and let her head fall back. Her hair spilled across her back, and her fingers grasped for his shoulders to keep balance. She wanted to lift her leg and wrap it across his shoulder, but she’d lose her balance and she didn’t want to l
ose him there, so deeply indulging himself within and without her.
She’d failed at keeping Casanova at a distance. His tongue tickled and toyed with her, tracing along her labia and where her clitoris hugged both sides of her opening. The intense humming in her loins floated into her core and fizzled through her being. She felt him in her bones.
And when he entered her with his fingers and curled them forward to nudge at her ridged inner space, Kyler’s gasp escaped unbidden. She swung her arms backward, catching her palms at the edge of the bed. Dante pulled her to him, burying himself in her, finding her sweetest spot and painting it with his wet, wanting heat.
Her body tingled. Pants and moans beckoned he continue. His fingers curled and thrust, moving in harmony with his tongue. He devoured her. He worshipped her. He gave her exactly what she wanted, and so much more.
He’d exposed his heartache to her. Could he know how much that had meant to her? They shared equal fears. They were alike. And she wanted him both in body and blood.
Kyler shouted out as the orgasm enveloped her being and shook her hips. Dante pressed her back, and she landed on the bed, gripping the sheets as her body answered his expert ministrations.
She heard him mutter, “Again,” and felt his tongue lash at her clit. Even as she still rode the incredible orgasm, he deigned to bring her to yet another climax, and it arrived swiftly, crashing into the previous and bursting from her throat in a deep and delicious cry of joy.
* * *
After rapidly stripping away his clothing, Dante hilted his cock inside Kyler’s hot, lush body. She hugged him tightly as he thrust in and out, gorging himself on her exquisite heat. She felt so good. He never wanted to leave the haven of her.
He bowed his head to her breasts, so full and firm, and sucked in a nipple. She squirmed and ran her fingernails lightly down his back then dug in at his spine, which only deepened his pleasure. She grabbed his ass and pushed him in deeper with each thrust. She wanted so much. A greedy little kitten. And he loved it.
And when he felt his cock was so hard he could release, he pulled out a bit, delaying satisfaction.
“Harder,” she whimpered. “Dante, please don’t deny me.”
Mercy, but he wanted to give her everything she asked for. He did not deny a woman anything—save his heart. But now? He wasn’t sure what he offered Kyler, but he wanted to give it. All of it.
He slid in deeper, and as he did so he glided up to kiss under her jaw. His fangs descended, and he teased the tip of one along her carotid. Musk and heat urged him to press the fang against her skin. It would be so easy to have all of her.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Bite me.”
He’d never bitten another vampire since sharing blood with his creator. He’d known when meeting Kyler and discovering she was vampire that to bite her would only complicate things. Yet now his heart ignored that caution. Nor did he give a second thought to the wisdom of such an act. He desired a taste of Kyler. More than a taste, all of her. And he would have it.
Allowing the pressure to increase, his fang sunk in with ease, piercing the vein and spurting sweet blood onto his tongue and palate. Licking the fountain of life, at her hips he pumped harder, faster. She squirmed with the sweet torture of it. The wicked energy of taking her life and feeling it infuse him with vigor only made him harder, hornier, more wanting. He felt as though he could pump inside her for an eternity and never need the climax, for at his mouth was the real prize.
“That’s...so good. Yes, take from me. I want to bite you, too,” Kyler whimpered. “Yes?”
Her biting him? What wicked alchemy could that bring? Bonding, a deeper connection, something he’d never wanted with any woman. The intimacy frightened him. And yet as long as they didn’t sate their thirsts and took only sips, he was confident they would not establish such a connection.
“Please?” came her soft, gasping whisper.
Dante shifted onto his hip, bringing her body over the top of him as he rolled to his back. Rocking on his cock, which was still embedded within her, Kyler cupped her breasts. She sat like a divine goddess upon him. Curvaceous and confident, she was so much woman, he wasn’t sure he could ever learn all of her.
But he wanted more of that delicious red cocktail spilling from her vein. “Here.” He tapped his mouth, and she obeyed, bowing over him and pressing her neck against his lips. He bit her again, drawing up the blood flow faster, more freely.
Her nails dug in at his shoulder, and he growled at the fantastic pain. Swallowing and pulling away from her neck so he wouldn’t be tempted to take too much, he turned his head to the side, exposing his vein to her. “As you wish,” he said.
“Oh, hell yes.”
The puncture from her fangs blasted into his head with a myriad of colors and sensations and sounds. It was a heady trip. He’d forgotten the mad ecstasy of being bitten. The exquisite pain amplified through pleasure. Slamming his hands out to his sides to seize the bed, he groaned as Kyler’s tongue lapped at his blood. Every dash along his skin felt as if she’d stroked his cock, and combined with the squeezing thrusts presently working his cock he could no longer withstand holding back.
As Kyler’s body shook above his, and his blood dripped from her crimson lips onto his chest, Dante succumbed to the shared orgasm. A wicked cohesion of body and blood. He’d never experienced such pleasure.
Never.
* * *
Hearing Dante’s soft snores, Kyler got out of bed, picked up her clothes and headed down the stairs, dressing as she did so. Her body felt...used. Deliciously used. Completely and utterly satisfied. Perfect in every way. And she could still taste Dante’s blood slipping across her tongue. In his veins flowed mead. She was so glad she’d gotten a taste. She wanted more and more and more.
But would that be wise? If she had indulged and taken more, they may have bonded. She didn’t want that. And she knew he did not want that.
“Don’t think about it,” she muttered. Right now she wanted only to indulge in the heady afterglow of a being well fucked and bitten.
Reaching the office doorway, she paused to pull up her pants. Just because she was a well-pleasured woman didn’t mean she wasn’t also a smart one. Tugging out the slip of paper from the pants pocket on which Dante had written the safe combination, she wandered through the darkness to the bookshelf. Outside the windows, a rose-orange glimmer painted the sky with the promise of imminent sunrise.
Pulling out the red book with no words on the spine, she was relieved when the false wall slid to the side with little noise. She dialed the three-number combination and opened the door, then drew out the Fabergé egg.
It was a solid piece and probably weighed about three pounds. It had been through a lot of joggling, but the base was still attached. She should be more careful with it. If it was capable of doing what King said it was, she could not risk damaging some inner part.
As soon as she gave it to King she would feel as though her debt to him had been paid.
But had Dante been right? The lure of eternity was great. Who wouldn’t desire the guarantee of imperviousness to death? Had King used her? He had known she was a thief before transforming her. Why had she given that fact no consideration until now?
And what about King as a vampire hunter? Crazy to even think it. Why kill your own kind while also desiring eternity? So he could continue to slay vamps without fear of death? It made weird sense.
What would keep him from staking her after she’d handed over the prize?
Dante wanted this valuable bit of gold and jewels because he’d been told to protect it long ago. To guard it with his life. And he’d failed. He didn’t need it because he sought eternity. If he had, he could have used the spell long ago.
She had more reason to walk away with it. And she would.
Kyler strode to the front door. Wh
en she paused to slip the egg into the backpack she’d dropped on the divan, she couldn’t set it down. Her fingernail traced a curling line of tiny diamonds set about the circumference.
Dante had trusted her by giving her the safe combination.
Or was he testing her?
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. If she walked away now, that would be the end of whatever they had begun. She’d never see Dante again. Unless, of course, he pursued her. But if he were forced to pursue her, that would only cement their sides: enemies. And after making love with him—and sharing blood—she couldn’t embrace that label for the two of them.
“Never enemies,” she whispered. Always lovers?
He interested her. He compelled her. Hell, he did things to her no other man had. He embraced and indulged in her voluptuous figure. No man had ever made her feel so sexy. So desired. And beyond his attraction and the sensual allure that kept her returning to his kisses even though she strived to hate him, there was a wistful longing embracing his soul she wanted to learn more about. Sure, he was an innate charmer. But sadness lurked inside him. Something that called to her and begged her to discover more. To give to him that which he didn’t even realize he needed—love.
The memory of his fangs sinking into her neck increased her heartbeat, and her breath came faster. A swirling hum in her core revisited the delicious orgasms he’d given her earlier.
She was enamored by the man. In lust with him.
The thought that it probably happened to every woman he slept with—and he knew it—was what saved her from running up the stairs and jumping his bones again right then and there.
Despite her best efforts, she had yet to remain cautious around him.
What if Dante was right about King? To what purpose would it serve Dante to make up such an odd detail about King?