by Cameron Dean
“You did well,” Ash said as we watched the casino’s security hustle the old man from the floor. “You learn fast, but then I expected as much.”
“Then why don’t I like myself very much?”
“Because you understand his pain and wish you could stop it,” Ash said simply. “Because, in spite of what your vampire’s mind knows, you’re still reacting with a human’s emotions. I didn’t say this would be easy, Candace. Only that it was necessary. And you did do well. You stayed in control. That’s important, particularly for you.”
I didn’t need to ask what he meant. I knew well enough. If I couldn’t learn to control myself, I would eventually give in to the desire that would make me a vampire forever: the desire to drink living blood. My new abilities were a double-edged sword. They made humans easier to fathom, to direct or misdirect. They also made them impossible to ignore.
Blood, I thought once more.
It was all around me, whispering in my ear, stroking all my senses, tantalizing…arousing. The feelings it evoked made me want to run in the opposite direction, even as they inspired me to come back for more. All of a sudden, I had a whole new perspective on the vampires I used to eject from the Scheherazade. It wasn’t just the thrill of getting the better of humans that made them spend so much time trying to cheat the casinos. It was the thrill of human attention itself.
“What’s next?” I asked.
“Since you passed the test, we get to celebrate.”
“Celebrate? I just violated that man’s mind and memories.”
“Perhaps. But you also learned what you’re going to need to survive,” Ash said. “And you surviving means we can be together. I think that’s reason to celebrate. You get to choose. Anything at all.”
Ash’s silver eyes held me, in them the promise of pleasures I hadn’t even begun to imagine. My discomfort slipped away. I grinned, suddenly knowing exactly what I wanted.
“Follow me and you’ll find out.”
“That’s nice,” Ash said agreeably, about an hour later. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair in one of the Beijing’s designer boutiques while I modeled what could only be described as evening gowns. This was the fourth so far, and Ash had stated his intention of buying every single one. He took a sip of champagne from the thin flute that rested on an elegant table by his elbow, then made a circular motion with one finger, the ancient male symbol for turn around and let me see the back. I was more than happy to oblige.
The dress I’d saved for last was a sheath of rose-colored silk, smooth as honey against my skin, the color a perfect foil for my brown hair and eyes. Scooping my hair up from my neck, I made a slow pivot, glancing back at Ash over my shoulder as I turned around and watched his eyes go wide. From the front, the dress was simple, almost demure, with a ballet-style neckline. But the back was pure temptation. Plunging straight down in a slim V that stopped just short of begging the question of whether or not I had on any underwear. It was the sort of dress every woman dreams of owning: one that would make every single man in any room she enters look twice, coming and going.
“Well?” I said as I completed my turn.
Ash’s eyes were dancing with mischief. He cocked his head to one side. “Do you know,” he said, his tone mild and conversational, “I suddenly discovered that I can’t quite make up my mind about this one after all. I think it’s because you’re too far away. Why don’t you come a little closer?”
I took a few steps forward, closing half the distance to where Ash sat.
“How’s this?” I inquired.
“Better,” Ash said, his tone agreeable. “But not quite close enough.”
Slowly, aware of his eyes on me every step of the way, I stepped toward him until we were no more than an arm’s length apart. Ash reached out, his fingers tangling with mine, and tugged me down into his lap, his free hand cupping my ass, then sliding upward until his fingers caressed the bare skin of my back. I felt my nipples harden against the soft silk, a tug of pure desire deep in my groin.
“You look thirsty,” Ash commented. “I’ll bet trying on all those dresses is hard work.”
He reached for the champagne flute, held it to my lips, his eyes never leaving mine. The hand that had slid up my back now supported my head as Ash eased it back. I took a sip of champagne, savoring the liquid punch of bubbles down the back of my throat. Ash drew the glass away, then dipped his head and ran his tongue across my lips as if to catch any stray drops.
“Ash,” I murmured, even as he slipped his tongue inside my mouth. I caught it between my teeth, bit down, hard, then released. “We’re in public.”
“So?” He ran a series of nibbling kisses across my cheek, down the side of my neck.
“We’ll take this one, too,” he said, raising his voice.
“Thank you, sir,” said the saleswoman, stepping into view. “An excellent choice.”
“Ash,” I said, my tone somewhere between exasperation and delight. “Much as my inner diva thanks you, I do feel obliged to point out that I don’t have anywhere to wear this dress, let alone the three others you’ve already agreed to buy.”
“You don’t know that,” Ash said, his tone reasonable. The hand at my back slipped under the silk of the dress at my waist. “For instance, there’s tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow night?”
His hand began to wander now, fingers gently yet persistently inching upward toward my breast. I leaned down, and captured the closest of his earlobes between my teeth, applying pressure until I heard him hiss out a sound before I let it go.
I leaned against him, pressing my breasts against his chest. “You really like this dress?”
“I really like that dress.”
“Then tell me about where I’ll be wearing it tomorrow night.”
“There’s an auction I need to attend,” Ash explained as his fingers danced along my bare spine. “Very exclusive, invitation only. One of Vegas’s premiere collectors died not long ago, and it seems he was the only antiquity his grieving widow was interested in keeping around.”
“Don’t tell me,” I said. “The grieving widow is young.”
“Young enough to be foolish and greedy,” Ash said. His hand was on the silk now. Gliding gently down the curve of my ass, then sliding around toward the front, the notch between my thighs. “Fortunately, her husband’s collection is truly unique. I’m sure the bidding will be quite spirited.”
“That ought to perk the grieving widow right up,” I remarked. Ash’s fingers caressed my belly then began to move upward as he bent his head and ran the tip of his tongue down the length of my throat. I arched against him, savoring the variety of sensations against my skin.
“I’ve never been to a private auction before,” I managed to get out.
“Then it’s high time you went to one,” Ash said.
His mouth found mine just as his hand reached my breast. Pushing gently upward with the palm of his hand, he ran his thumb back and forth across my nipple. I had a sudden vision of his mouth there, pulling the nipple deep inside.
“Candace,” Ash whispered in my ear.
“What?”
“I’m not so sure I should buy you this dress after all. Every man who sees you in it is going to spend way too much time trying to figure out how to get you out of it.”
I crossed my legs, feeling the pressure of my body increasing my own pleasure.
“That’s precisely why you should buy it,” I proposed. “While the other guys are looking at me, you can outbid them and they won’t even notice.”
I turned my head then, till our lips were no more than a whisper apart.
“I want you, Ash,” I said. “I want you right now. Tell me I can have you.”
The hand on my breast tightened, fingers squeezing the nipple, and I felt a white-hot stab of desire.
I closed the gap between our lips, urging his open, stroking the inside of his mouth urgently with my tongue. I felt a shudder pass through him as I slid f
rom his lap. Head leaning back, he watched me, the silver of his eyes as bright as sun on water.
“I’ll meet you at the elevator to the penthouse.” I stood up. The dress slid against me like the promise of sin. “Don’t make me wait.”
“I’d say you can cross that worry right off the list,” Ash said.
I was laughing as I headed back toward the dressing rooms, even as I felt my knees begin to wobble. Wanting Ash was like a shot of whiskey straight to my head. I heard him, speaking to the saleswoman. By the time she joined me in the dressing room, I had managed to get my fingers to stop trembling.
“Sorry about the show,” I said as she deftly helped me ease the dress over my head.
She slid it onto a hanger and gave a quick chuckle. “Oh, please. This is Vegas, honey. I really hate to break it to you, but you guys actually looked pretty tame compared to some things I’ve seen.” I saw her throw me a quick, considering glance in the mirror as I pulled on my clothes.
“Everything’s taken care of. Mr. Donahue has arranged for us to send your purchases directly to his penthouse.”
She slid open the curtain of the dressing room, held it for me as I walked out.
“Thanks—”
“Julie,” she said.
“Thanks, Julie. “I wonder, could you tell me…”
“Of course I can,” she interrupted with a smile. “Lingerie is right around the corner.”
Fifteen minutes later I had exactly what I wanted. A sinful leotard made entirely of lace, open at the crotch. Another woman might have chosen something red or black. I had opted for an icy, virginal white. In keeping with the color, the neckline was high, particularly by Vegas standards, plunging no lower than my collarbones. To offset this, a slit ran down the very center, leaving the inner outline of my breasts exposed. The lace swirled around my body in a pattern of curving, twisting flowers and vines that reached up to my breasts like teasing fingers, stopping just short of the nipples, as if they were the goal. I could see them through the pattern, like dusky blossoms. At my crotch a rose bloomed.
I looked at myself in the mirror, discovered I was grinning. I looked like an eager, slightly naughty bride who knew precisely what the upcoming night held in store. Slowly, the smile faded as I realized the truth. I felt like a bride. Ash and I were beginning a whole new existence together, an existence which, once I had decided to embrace it at all, I had embraced with all my being, all my heart. From the moment I had agreed to give joining Ash in his world a genuine chance, I had barely looked back.
Who are you, Candace? I suddenly thought. Do you still know? What kind of person was I that I could turn my back on everyone and everything I loved in the world of living without so much as a backward glance?
But I’m not a person, I thought. Not like they are. Not anymore. That’s precisely what joining Ash in his world means. I’m not human. I am a vampire.
As if the acknowledgment had summoned up some new level of change, of commitment, my reflection in the mirror abruptly winked out. With a cry of horror, I lurched forward, my knuckles rapping against the mirror so hard it cracked. With a second cry, I staggered back. The sight of that cracked and empty mirror was almost more than I could bear.
“Ma’am,” I heard the shop attendant’s alarmed voice say. She knocked briskly on the door. “Do you need assistance? Is everything all right?”
Somehow I found my voice. “It’s fine,” I said, my eyes riveted to the glass. The crack in the mirror spread across it like a spiderweb, but it reflected back nothing, nothing at all.
“Is there anything else I can bring you?” she asked.
I sat down on the padded bench in the dressing room, fighting against a sudden, hysterical urge. I wasn’t quite certain whether it was to laugh or cry.
“No, thank you,” I said, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears. “I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time.”
I dropped my face down into my hands. Time. The commodity I can never get enough of.
Stop it, Candace! I suddenly thought. You made this choice. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Go after what you want.
And what I truly wanted tonight was the fulfillment of all the things with which the evening had begun. The thrill of new experiences. The special anticipation that only comes when love and lust combine. I wanted this night of Ash and I together in two worlds at once.
And I’m going to have it, I thought. Filled with fresh determination, I stood up, quickly put my street clothes on over the leotard. Nothing was going to stop this night from happening—or prevent me from fulfilling my own desires, and those of the man I loved.
I would fight for my time with Ash, however long it lasted, with all the strength I had. Even if the greatest foe I faced was myself.
Five
I spotted Ash standing in the elegant circular lobby of the Beijing’s residential tower. He stood near one of the elevators, a bas relief Chinese landscape on the wall behind him. Arms folded loosely across his chest, legs slightly spread with the weight on the balls of his feet, as if ready to move in any direction at a moment’s notice. His expression was neutral, perfectly pleasant, but utterly unreadable. His silver eyes catching the light of the brass chandelier above, without once revealing his thoughts. I let my footsteps slow, then stop altogether.
When was the last time I did this? I suddenly wondered. Had I ever done it? Watched Ash without his realizing it. With the exception of the night we met, when I literally spotted him across a crowded room, I simply could not remember a time when I had gazed at Ash and did not find him there before me, already gazing back. Our relationship wasn’t a game, but a series of moves and counter-moves nevertheless, with Ash always one step ahead.
The pose he assumed now appeared casual, but it came to me as I stood looking at him that there was absolutely nothing casual about Ash. Nothing wasted, even in repose. With all his energy in reserve, his form seemed clearer, more distinct than those of the humans flowing around him. Humans waste energy, expending it in a thousand different directions. Ash was star-bright, diamond-hard.
I took a step toward him then stopped short, as a flash of movement on the far side of the lobby caught my eye. Just for a second, I could have sworn I saw a dark-haired man gazing at Ash as intently as I was. Down the right side of his face, he bore a scar.
“Ash!” I said suddenly, starting forward, my tone alarmed. He moved toward me instantly.
“What is it, Candace? What’s wrong?”
By the time I reached him, the dark-haired man was gone. Vanishing so completely that I was almost convinced he’d never been there at all. Apparently my eyes were still playing tricks.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “I thought I saw something, that’s all. But it isn’t there now.”
I reached for him then, linked my arms around his neck, and drew him close, felt the hard punch of need deep in my gut.
“Take me upstairs, Ash,” I said. “Take me upstairs and make the world go away.”
“I can do that,” he said.
And I believed him, with all my heart.
We stepped into the elevator. We were the only ones in it and, instinctively, each of us took opposite sides of the car. Ash slid a key card in for the penthouse, then his hand paused and he lifted his silver eyes to mine. That was the moment it hit me: The last time I stepped into an elevator with Ash I had been human, and I almost hadn’t made it out alive.
Abruptly, I realized my hand had risen to my throat, as if to protect it, in an action I performed entirely without conscious thought. Images, sensations, crowded for possession of my body and mind. Pain. Fear. Blood. Ash kept his gaze steady on mine. From across the elevator, I could see my own memories of the most terrible moment of our past reflected in his eyes.
No! I thought. That’s not what I want!
Because there had been other things in that long-ago elevator as well, things I had buried deep in order to stay sane and survive. The reasons for getting into i
t in the first place: Passion. Desire. Love.
Slowly, my muscles as stiff as if they had been clenched for hours, I slid my hand down from my throat. I felt my fingers brush against my own shirt collar, drop to the top button. And, quite suddenly, I knew what it was I wanted. I could not erase the memory of that first, terrible night. It would be with me, always. But I could supplant it with something else.
This, I thought as, my eyes on Ash’s, I eased the top shirt button open. I choose this. This is what I want.
I let my fingers roam a little farther, fingertips sliding across the lace of the leotard I’d hidden beneath my street clothes, until they reached the second shirt button to ease it open as well. As it popped free of the buttonhole, I saw the passion flare in Ash’s eyes. A sudden, vivid flash of heat swept through my body. I could have sworn I felt Ash’s fingers at my breasts, stroking the nipples to stiff, needy points. The heat plunged, straight down between my thighs. My clit began to pulse and throb. From across the elevator, I could see Ash’s eyes begin to shine with passion, knew what I saw there was the mirror of what was in my own.
Rapport, I thought, the vampire’s special power. I would use it now. I could make my lover’s blood race without a single touch. With no more than a wish, he could respond. You want to play? Okay, let’s play, Ash, I thought, and saw his lips curve into a smile.
Keeping my eyes on his, I deliberately shifted my stance, parting my legs, pushing my pelvis forward as I pressed my shoulders back against the elevator wall. At once I felt his presence there, phantom fingers pressing, sliding, stroking. From across the elevator, I could see the way his cock made a solid ridge against the front of his pants. My turn, now, I thought. I was smiling as I closed my eyes, the better to conjure up the image of my desire in my mind.
Ash with his head thrown back and me on my knees before him. My hands strongly kneading the taut muscles of his butt. Embracing his body, cradling the length of his erection between my breasts, then slowly shifting to brush my stiffened nipples back and forth across it. I could feel his muscles bunch beneath my hands as his pelvis jerked forward; feel his fingers tangle in my hair. I knew what, in his urgency, he wanted. Recognized it for my own desire.
