Darkest Hour (New Adult Paranormal Romance)

by Bullard, Catherine

  Elsbeth bit her lip to keep from wincing. She’d known that her Mistress would eventually summon them both, but she’d forgotten about it in the past few days. She’d meant to tell Thomas earlier and give him a chance to prepare himself, but it was too late, now.

  “You may tell the mistress we will be there,” Elsbeth said. “Please be sure to send her my good wishes.” A not-so-subtle cue for Aranda to leave so she could do something about her frazzled nerves.

  “I will be sure to do so.” Aranda wrapped the shadows around her, but instead of leaving she turned toward Thomas once more. “Elsbeth seems to have a problem with sharing, so unfortunately I’ll have to keep my hands off you. But should you ever get tired of her or vice versa, feel free to come find me.” She blew him a kiss, then melted into the darkness.

  “Well.” Elsbeth said after a moment. “It seems I’m going to be preparing you for your first visit sooner than I had anticipated.

  “I don’t suppose we are allowed to finish what we started?” Thomas groaned. The vampire woman who’d taunted him with her blatantly sexual looks hadn’t stirred his desire, but it had reminded him of what she’d interrupted.

  Elsbeth laughed softly. “I’m afraid not.”

  * * *

  “I can see why you wanted him, Elsbeth,” Amelia purred, touching her forefinger to her lower lip as her dark eyes gleamed. “He is certainly pleasing to the eye. Such a healthy flush to his skin.” She licked her lips, and the hairs on the back of Thomas’s neck tingled as the carnal look in her eyes singed his entire body. He didn’t know how he felt about a blood-thirsty vampire looking at him like that.

  You didn’t mind when Elsbeth did, a voice in his head reminded him.

  “He is.” Elsbeth smiled shyly, her eyelashes lowered demurely to the floor. The two of them were kneeling on the carpet, a gesture of supplication that Thomas wasn’t comfortable with, but Elsbeth had insisted. Exposing the back of his neck to a Vampire Mistress didn’t seem like such a great idea, but making her angry was probably a worse one.

  “You may both rise,” she said, her voice smooth as the garnet silk gown she wore. “So, Thomas, how are you adjusting to your new life?”

  “Well enough,” he responded. “Elsbeth has helped me adjust to drinking blood.” The memory of sinking his fangs into her flesh had his body growing taut—she had tasted far sweeter than any of the animals he’d fed off since. He wanted to taste her again, and was still peeved that they’d been so sorely interrupted earlier.

  He had a feeling that the Seethe Mistress knew exactly what was going through his mind, because her eyes gleamed with amusement and she let out a tinkling laugh. “I see you haven’t quite managed to subdue your hunger, yet,” she remarked. “That will come with time and patience.”

  Subdue his hunger for Elsbeth? Not likely. “I am not solely dependent on blood,” he felt compelled to point out. “I do eat human food as well.”

  Amelia waved her bejeweled fingers. “Ah, yes. You are lucky that Elsbeth is taking care of you. No one else in our Seethe is much good at preparing human food.” She smiled at Elsbeth, who blushed prettily. Thomas stared at the faint pink stain on her cheeks, feeling the saliva pool in his mouth. The Seethe Mistress was right—his hunger was catching up to him. “What other changes have you undergone, besides drinking blood?”

  Thomas told her about his ability to walk in the sun, though he now burned after a short period of time, whereas before he hadn’t. He told her about his heightened senses—hearing, smell, taste, and his new superhuman speed.

  “That is all to be expected,” she said, nodding, but he caught a flash of impatience in her eyes. “Do you have any other abilities?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  “Would you mind terribly if I had my physician do an examination on you?” she asked sweetly. “It never hurts to be sure.”

  Thomas opened his mouth to say no, but he caught the flash of warning in Elsbeth’s eyes. So, she had expected this. “Of course,” he said smoothly.

  The ‘physician’ was a tall, gaunt vampire with a shaved head, narrow slits for eyes, and the pastiest skin Thomas had ever seen—and he now had three other vampires to compare it with. The vampire didn’t do anything a normal physician might do; such as check his pulse, his temperature, his tonsils, or anything like that. Instead he put Thomas through a variety of physical and mental exercises, the latter of which grew increasingly more frustrating for both of them. The vampire would cluck his tongue all too often, making notes on a small pad of paper with his quill. Thomas did discover that he could lift extraordinary amounts of weight when the vampire asked him to lift increasingly larger slabs of stone—he was able to lift a block that was nearly as tall and twice as wide as himself—but nothing else.

  When he was brought back before the Seethe Mistress, his teeth were clenched and there was a slight headache throbbing at his temples. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mistress?” he asked, trying to modulate his voice, but he couldn’t quite keep a hint of ire out of it.

  Amelia nodded. “It seems that everything is in order with you. Although I do recommend you living with Elsbeth for a while longer until you have your hunger under control, it is possible you could even rejoin the human community in the future, if you desire.”

  Thomas’s eyes widened as shock and hope rippled through him. “I… I could return home?”

  Amelia’s painted lips curved, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes. “If you wish. But that is a choice I would think carefully on. As you are aware, humans are a very superstitious lot. You would still continue to survive off blood, whether animal or human, and you would have to be discreet. Your life would become very unpleasant should they discover… abnormal dietary habits.”

  Thomas nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. The idea of being able to return to his parents blocked out any other thoughts. He wouldn’t have to live in darkness all the time. He could return to his village, perhaps marry a normal human girl and start a family.

  And what of Elsbeth? His conscience admonished sternly. He turned his head to look at her, and noted that, while there was no expression on her face, her black eyes shimmered with… grief? Hurt? A wave of guilt washed over him. How could he be so thoughtless as to her feelings?

  She noticed he was staring, and turned to face him. “It’s all right, Thomas,” she soothed, smiling slightly. “I won’t begrudge your desire to return to your old life.”

  Not trusting himself to speak to her, he turned back to the Seethe Mistress and bowed. “I appreciate your hospitality and advice. I will think on what you have said. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Amelia shook her head, her eyes calculating and impossibly ancient as she watched him. A chill ran down Thomas’s spine, and he wondered just how old she was. How many lives had she taken with the fangs she hid behind those perfect red lips? “You are free to go.”

  * * *

  Thomas leaned against a tree as he stared at the tiny cottage. The tallow candle sitting in the window was lit, and with his heightened vision he could easily see his grandparents sitting by the fire, his mother knitting in her rocking chair, his father reading a book, his glasses perched on his wizened face as he squinted in the lamplight. His heart clenched with longing at such a domestic, normal scene—he would give anything to be sitting there with them, even if they were old and didn’t do much these days.

  A brace of rabbits were tied to the stick he held in his hand—his grandfather’s eyesight made it difficult for him to hunt, and he didn’t want them to starve. Quietly he stole across the grass, set the meat down on the small porch, and raised his hand to knock on the door. A wave of scent hit him just before his knuckles made contact, and he froze—blood. He could smell their blood even though the door, and he hadn’t fed in two or three days. Saliva pooled in his mouth, and he could feel his fangs elongating, slicing through his tender lower lip. Warm, sticky blood coated his tongue, only incre
asing his hunger for more.

  God. He couldn’t let them see him like this. If they opened the door the bloodlust would take over, and he wouldn’t be able to help himself. How would he be able to live with the guilt of killing his own grandparents?

  Throat tight, he lowered his hand and stole back across the grass and into the concealing shadows of the forest. The same forest that Elsbeth had no doubt spent hours watching him, though this wasn’t the same spot. His grandmother would find the meat there in the morning, if some wild animal didn’t come by and steal it first. Gods, he felt like such a failure.

  “You made the right choice by deciding not to see them.” Thomas jumped at the sound of Elsbeth’s voice behind him. She laid a soft, pale hand on his shoulder. “I know this is hard for you.”

  He whirled around to stare at her, knowing he must look a sight with his wild, grief-stricken eyes, swollen lip, and rivulets of blood running down his chin. “What would you know of it, Elsbeth? Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at your family and know that if you come near them, their blood will be on your hands?”

  Her eyes shimmered with tears even as her eyes narrowed. “I know something of it. I had to leave my husband behind when I was turned. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Some of the anger went out of him at that, replaced by sympathy, as he looked at Elsbeth in a new light. “I’m sorry. Did you love him?”

  “More than anything.” She swallowed, and a tear slid down her pale cheek. “We’d only been married a few months. I had cut my hand on a scythe during the harvest season, and the wound became grievously infected. We didn’t have the money to afford a doctor so I hadn’t wanted to go and see one, and by the time I finally did it was too late. I was wasting away.”

  She wiped the tear from her face and let out a sigh. “In the middle of the night, Darian, my maker, came to me and offered my life back in exchange for my service. My mind was muddled from fever, and all I knew was that I wanted the pain to go away and I wanted to live, so I accepted the bargain. If I had been lucid, I would have chosen to die over becoming a vampire.”

  “So he turned you?”

  Elsbeth nodded. “The first few months were awful. I had very rare moments of lucidity, but those were swallowed up by my bloodlust. Darian locked me in a cage to keep me away from humans so that I wouldn’t go on a rampage through the town, and in the beginning he fed me himself. Eventually he allowed me to go out and taught me how to hunt, but he didn’t much care who I killed. Many innocents died because of me.” She looked down at the ground, shame in her eyes. “The bloodlust frenzies came less frequently then, but I knew I needed to stay away from my husband because I would kill him. I never saw him again.”

  “What happened to your Maker?” Thomas asked. “Didn’t you say he turned you in exchange for servitude?”

  “He went out one night and never came back. I assumed he was killed, and so packed my meager belongings and headed west, wanting to get as far away from my hometown as possible. Mistress Amelia took me in.” She lifted her head then. “It’s not easy being a vampire, but her rules make it much more tolerable. I’m very grateful to her for helping me transition. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this easier on you. At least you have the luxury of being only a half-vampire.” The trace of bitterness in her tone sent a wave of guilt through Thomas. After listening to her, he realized just how good he had it. How could he have been so selfish?

  Without saying a word, he crossed the short distance between them and gathered her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Elsbeth. I’ve been impossibly rude, selfish and unkind to you.”

  She sighed and buried her face in his chest. “It’s all right, Thomas. As I said, I understand what you’re going through. Please, just hold me for awhile?”

  “Of course.”

  They stood like that for a long time; Thomas’s head falling into the crook of Elsbeth’s neck, but all too soon the hunger was back, clawing at him like a beast on the inside. The scent of fresh blood, coupled with her unique fragrance, had saliva pooling in his mouth and his body hardening.

  “Elsbeth,” he murmured huskily, nudging her silky black hair away from her pale shoulder to expose the vein in her neck.

  “Yes.” She leaned her head back to give him better access. “Take what you need, Thomas.”

  He sank his fangs into her neck again, and the blood exploded sweetly into his mouth. Elsbeth moaned, her body growing limp in his arms as he drank from her. He felt her nipples pearl through the fabric separating them, and his sense of smell was so heightened now that he could actually smell her arousal through the blood. The need to take her soon overpowered him as his thirst was quenched and he pulled his mouth away, backing her up against a large, craggy oak tree.

  “I need more than just your blood this time, Elsbeth,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes gleaming as red as his own. “Yes,” she repeated. “Take me. Take all of me.”

  He needed no further encouragement. Lowering his head, he kissed her, hungrily devouring her soft, wet, sweet mouth. There was still the faintest trace of copper on her tongue from when she must have fed earlier, and he sucked it, wanting more. Her nails scored his back as she pulled him closer, then her hands slid down to push up his tunic and dive beneath his leggings.

  “Gods,” he gasped against her mouth as she encircled him with her fingers. “Yes, please.” He groaned as she began slowly sliding her fingers up and down his glistening skin. His hips jerked involuntarily to match the movement, but then stopped as she knelt down, pulling his leggings to his knees. His hardening sprang free of its confines, and, looking up at him with those blood-red eyes, she took him into her mouth.

  “Yes.” His eyes closed as he tangled his fingers into her hair, rocking his hips into her mouth. “Oh Gods, yes.” She worked him with her tongue and lips, fondling him with her fingers, and the pleasure heightened until it was too good.

  “No,” he said hoarsely, pulling her away from him. “I want to be inside you.”

  “Yes,” she breathed, and tried to rise, but he pushed her back down.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her, molding her ass in his hands, squeezing lightly so that they turned a nice, light pink. “I’ve never seen anything so intoxicating.”

  She shivered beneath his hands, the motion pushing her ass more firmly into his hands. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Of course I do.” He spread her legs to expose her to the moonlight filtering in through the trees. “And I’m willing to spend as much time as I have in order to prove it.”

  Lowering his head, he began licking and sucking, spreading her legs farther to give him better access to the sweet nectar pooling between her thighs. Her cries were muffled, and he knew she was trying her best to be quiet since they were so close to humans. He smiled wickedly as he slid his hand around to the front, wanting to test her restraint. Sometimes the thrill of being caught could make the experience so much more pleasurable. His tongue speared her folds as his fingers stimulated her, and her shriek came loud and clear as she convulsed around him.

  “Oh, oh, OH!” she cried, nails gouging into the dirt as her body exploded.

  He rose up and gripped her hips, angling her, and then slid himself inside of her still-pulsing entrance. Her hot, wet core sheathed him, and his eyes rolled back into his head at the sheer force of the pleasure.

  Leaning over her, he braced one hand against the forest floor as he began moving inside her, and used the other one to fondle her breasts, pinching and tweaking the hardened nipples. Her neck arched, inky hair spilling over her pale skin as she moaned her pleasure.

  “Harder, Thomas,” she begged. “Please.”

  He was only too happy to oblige, and soon she was convulsing around him again and he was shouting her name as he shot his seed into her. The pleasure was like nothing he’d ever experienced—it consumed him completely; he lived it, breathed it, was it. Wh
en it finally left him he collapsed on top of her, exhausted, then rolled onto his back and pulled her against his chest.

  “Well.” Elsbeth chuckled. “I haven’t done anything like that in a long time. And never in a setting like this.”

  Thomas nuzzled her cheek. “I hope I wasn’t too rough.”

  “You were perfect.” She turned into his arms and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

  “Elsbeth.” He sighed. “I…” The words stuck in his craw. “I really…”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “You don’t need to say anything, Thomas.”

  He nodded, feeling like a fool. “Let’s get back.”

  * * *

  The next few weeks were like floating on a cloud. There were no Seethe Mistresses or jealous vampire suitors to ruin Thomas or Elsbeth’s days. They lived, laughed, and made love. He’d never been so comfortable with a woman in his life; she fit him like a glove, like a second skin he’d been waiting all his life to slip into. If someone had ever told him he would be falling in love with a vampire he would have laughed in their face.

  Elsbeth continued to cook for him as well as the less fortunate families in the nearby villages, and she allowed him to come along to drop off meals for his family. But he soon discovered that it wasn’t necessary—his grandfather miraculously seemed to have recovered some of his sight, and was able to bring home meals just fine with the help of the village boys.

  The hardest moment for him was when the village held a memorial for him. He had attended, feeling like some kind of ghostly specter wrapped in a dark cloak, his face shrouded from prying eyes. He’d felt incredibly guilty, but he knew that this was for the best. Even though he had a much better handle on the bloodlust, and despite the fact that he watched from the sidelines, he’d still been hungry. Thankfully the salty smell of tears and grief had kept it at bay. Sitting there and listening to his grandparents talk about what a fine boy he’d been was the hardest. He’d gone back to Elsbeth’s home, shut himself in the spare room while she slept, and cried for a full hour.