Her back hit the bed and she disengaged, threw her head back and groaned at the ceiling. He leaned down and kissed the blood from her fangs and she nipped him again, gently, and sucked on his upper lip, and then he was tearing her cotton shorts down the middle, ripping her panties away, and she got the fly of his jeans open, got them partway down his hips, burrowed past his Jockeys and got hold of his cock—oh, warmth, warmth, hot stiff warmth and he wanted her so badly he was shaking with it and she could have wept with sheer gratitude, but instead she arched toward him, locked her ankles around his back, and when he came in for the stroke she bit him again, on the other side of his neck.
He hissed, but not in pain.
He was so warm, it was like being fucked by an electric blanket, except infinitely sexier, and she came at once, with fresh blood in her mouth and that hot hard part of him digging into her, pushing, stroking, shoving.
She shoved back and he groaned and gently slid his palm over her nipple, then gripped her breast, hard, and bent, and pulled the stiff peak into his mouth, and bit her. She was swallowing and licking the blood from her fangs and came again when his warm mouth closed over her, when his teeth nipped her tender flesh. She grabbed the bedspread and heard it rip beneath her groping fingers.
“Daniel,” she called, wild with wanting and fear that she was hurting him, he was mortal, he was fragile, he—he was coming inside her, she could feel her temperature change as he filled her up.
“Andy,” he managed.
“Don’t—call me—that—”
“Andy,” he said again, and dropped his head to her shoulder, and was insensible for half an hour.
“DAMN!” he said when he regained consciousness. “You are a demon in the sack! You’ve, like, ruined me for live girls forever.”
“Eww, don’t say it like that,” she said. “And get off me, will you?”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He rolled to his side. “Cripes, you’re squashed right into the mattress. I must have been crushing you—how long was I out?”
“It’s no big deal. It’s not like I had to breathe.” Actually, she had spent that half an hour stroking his hair and listening to his long and even breaths, listening to his pulse, wondering at the thud-thud-thud thundering in her ears, and thinking maybe, just maybe her life hadn’t gone into the shitter after all.
She had no idea vampires could have sex—well, she’d imagined they could, they had all the right equipment, but she hadn’t thought it would be like flying, like soaring above the clouds, like—like being alive. It was—traitorous thought!—better than drinking blood.
“Are you all right? Not too shaky or anything? I’m afraid I might have gotten carried away.”
“No chance, sugar, check this.” He bounded up, then did half a dozen jumping jacks. She watched his penis bob around energetically and fought a grin. “I feel like a million bucks! I feel like I could go clubbing all night long! Want to?”
“Dead girls don’t dance,” she laughed.
He pounced on her and nuzzled her cleavage. “Fine, be a grump . . . how about you? How’s the hand?”
She flexed it for him.
“Niiiiice,” he said, gently stroking the unblemished skin. “I’ll be taking full credit for that, by the way. My kick-ass blood and mighty dick were just the curative powers you needed.”
“I’m about three seconds from putting you through the window,” she said, smiling. “I don’t think there’s enough room on this bed for you, me, and your overly satisfied male ego.”
“We’ll make room, bay-bee!” He gave her a hearty smack on the mouth. “Ummm . . .” He busied himself with her mouth for a minute and she kissed him back, thinking about flying, thinking about being alive, when he pulled back and said, “How about you? Did you like it? I know it’s been a while and you were kind of freaking out about it . . . Jeez, like—sorry,” he added, seeing her flinch. “I keep forgetting.”
“It’s not your fault. And it was wonderful. Really very wonderful. Thanks for letting me feed.”
“Oh, baby, if I get laid when you feed, then slap a sign on my ass and call me a buffet.”
She started giggling and couldn’t stop. He bounded into the bathroom and she heard him yell, “Check this! All my bite marks have totally healed!”
“I think there’s an enzyme or something in a vampire bite,” she called after him. “It promotes fast healing.”
“Well, Jeez, that’s the coolest—sorry.” He came out, looking at her curiously. “What’s it like?”
“What? Watching you preen? Stupefying.”
“No, when I say something about G—uh, the Big Guy. I mean, I know what it’s like when something from that neighborhood touches you—” He shuddered. “And I never want to see it again. Or hear it! You screamed like you were—”
“On fire?” she suggested dryly.
“But what’s it like for you, just hearing the name or whatever?”
“It makes me feel like throwing up,” she said simply. “Like my stomach has turned inside out and I’m going to vomit or die or both. It’s—it’s awful.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll try really really hard to curb the taking of the Big Guy’s name in vain.”
“You won’t have to worry about it much longer,” she pointed out, though her stomach turned inside out—and he hadn’t even cursed!—at the thought. “We’re almost there. Drop me off and away you go.”
“No,” he said stubbornly. “That wasn’t the deal. I’m taking you to see this badass vampire queen, that was the deal.”
“Mmmmm.”
“Don’t grunt at me, missy. And don’t be thinking about ditching me, either.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But Daniel, have you really considered this? Not all vampires are like me, you know.”
“Cripes, I hope not.” He was examining his shredded clothing and scowling at her.
“No, I mean it. Comparably speaking, I’m a pussycat. Most vampires are much, much worse.” She shivered. “The ones that killed me, for example. Minnesota nice, my ass.”
“For crying out loud, Andy, did you, like, eat my jeans?” He tossed the ruined clothes toward the garbage can. “Have you ever met any? Bad vampires, I mean? Since you’ve been one?”
“I ran into one or two while I was passing through, but they didn’t have anything to do with me. I wasn’t really fit for adult conversation at the time,” she admitted. “Too young. One of them tried to help me but I ran away from him. He was . . .” Terrifying. All height and dark flashing eyes and power, such a sense of power! He wore it like he wore the expensive clothes. And his eyes . . . she knew if she stayed a second longer she wouldn’t be able to refuse him, so she’d fled. He’d been kind (“What is your name?”) and concerned (“How old are you?”) but he’d been too strong (“Stay a minute.”) and she couldn’t abide being near him, not for another minute, another second. And he’d let her go. She’d been as relieved as she’d been disappointed. “Anyway. Most of them are bad. And the queen . . . the new queen . . . she’ll be the worst of us all.”
“How come?”
“Because the vampire she defeated—Nostro—was really really bad.”
“Really really bad?” he teased.
She shook her head at him, unsmiling. “I don’t have words to explain it to you, to make you understand how bad. And he was in power for hundreds of years, and with vampires, the older you are, the more power you gain. He was considered completely unstoppable, for centuries.
“And she killed him, Daniel. She just—just woke up one night and killed him and took his seat of power and there was nothing more to be done. No warning, no formal declaration of challenges, nothing. It was like she rose one day and said, ‘I think I’ll kill the old vampire king,’ and then it was done.
“And to do that, she had to be more powerful and more wicked and—and—” She paused, remembering something she’d heard, a scrap on the wind, a whisper. “They call her Elizabeth, the One. The most powerful vampire in two tho
usand years. And she’s fated to rule at least two thousand more.”
“Wow,” he said respectfully.
“So I strongly urge you to reconsider this notion you’ve gotten about—”
“No.”
“Idiot,” she muttered.
“Ah, but I’m your idiot, bay-bee. And howcum you don’t reconsider?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why go see this Liz the One at all? Let’s hang out, have some more fun.”
She blinked, caught completely flat-footed by his offer. “That’s a nice . . . a wonderful offer . . . but this is something I have to do. It’s like her name is in my head, all the time. Like she’s calling me to her.” She shuddered. “I imagine there’s thousands of us on the way to Minnesota these days.”
“Talk about a creep-out. Come take a shower with me.”
“Why?”
He made an exasperated sound. “Because.”
“We’re wasting valuable driving time.”
“We’ve got the whole damn night, and just half an hour to go.”
“Fine,” she grumbled, and rose from the bed, but secretly she was glad; glad to keep half an hour between her and the queen.
Chapter 10
THE shower was delightful. She’d forgotten. Daniel was all slippery hands and long limbs and broad pecs and the water beat down on them and then he kissed her and one thing led to another and he was bleeding again—
“S-sorry.”
“Shut up,” he groaned, “and move a bit to your left.”
—and then they were writhing together beneath the spray, and at the height of her pleasure she grabbed the shower curtain, which let go with a pok-pok-pokking sound and tumbled her onto the bath mat.
“Wow,” Daniel panted, peering down at her. “Just like the shower scene from Psycho. Except a lot sexier.”
“Help me up, you idiot,” she said, hardly able to speak, she was laughing so hard.
“As soon as I can take a step without falling on my ass, I’m all yours.” Moving like an old man, he turned and shut the water off, then settled into the tub with a sigh. “Damn!”
“I have to say, if I was going to break the no-shower barrier, that was the way to do it.”
“Anybody ever tell you you’re really . . . uh . . . flexible? Like, Olympic gymnast flexible?”
“Not in the last few hours. You should see what I could do if we filled that tub.”
“Eh? What could you do?”
She sat up and tweaked his ear—playfully, she thought, but he yelped and jerked away. “Oh, sorry, forgot my own strength. Anyway, I don’t have to breathe, remember? One time I was in a mood—”
“You? Naw!”
“—and instead of hiding underground I spent the day in the middle of Lake Michigan, just walking around on the bottom. Did you know there are muskies bigger than me down there?”
“That’s the saddest, and creepiest, thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad. Anyway, my point is, think of the fun we could have in a hot tub!”
He didn’t say anything, so she stood, shook herself, grabbed a towel, and started blotting herself dry. “Well, I suppose we should check out and hit the road. No time like the present, let’s get the show on the road, pick your cliché—Daniel?”
“I sort of locked up when you said hot tub,” he admitted, shaking his head like a dog. “Damn! Okay, we have to find one right now.”
“Forget it,” she giggled. “We have to get going. We’ve pissed away enough time tonight already.”
“Rain check,” he said grimly.
“Fine, fine.” If we live through the night, I’ll do you in a public fountain if that’s your pleasure. “Now let’s get dressed and get out of here.”
“Sure thing, Nancy Drew!” he said enthusiastically, climbing out of the tub on rubbery knees. “Lucky for you I’ve got more clean clothes. Try to resist your unholy urge to shred them or eat them or whatever you’ve been doing to my jeans.”
“I’ll try,” she said solemnly, and shrieked as he smacked her bare ass on the way past.
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
WAREHOUSE DISTRICT
“STAAAWWWWWWPPPPPP!” Andrea screamed, and Daniel stood on the brakes again.
“This—is—very—bad—for—my—car—” he managed through gritted teeth as his Intrepid narrowly avoided crashing through a wooden fence.
“I’m sorry, I just saw it out of the corner of my eye . . .” She was out of her Daniel-mandated seat belt in a flash and standing beside the car, staring at the building. “Will you look at that?”
Daniel climbed out, panting from the adrenaline surge, and leaned against the car. “Look at what? It’s an old building. News flash, dead girl, we’re in the warehouse district.”
“You can’t see that?” She knew he couldn’t smell it, but how could he not see it? The letters were a foot high.
“See what?”
She pointed. “It says ‘Private Library; Patrons Welcome.’ ”
“Uh . . . says it where, exactly?”
“There. Right there. The letters are a foot high and they’re written in dried blood. In fact, that’s interesting in and of itself . . . how do they keep it from wearing off? Washing off in the rain? Crawling with bugs?”
“Who the hell cares? It doesn’t have anything to do with—oh, shit,” he added, falling into step beside her. “You really are Nancy Drew. Why check this out?”
“I’ve never seen a welcoming sign in blood before. Maybe—” She looked at him doubtfully. “Maybe you—”
“No way.”
“Okay, okay, it was just a suggestion. A logical suggestion from a vastly superior intellect, but ignore me, see if I care.”
“Well, I will.”
“And stay behind me.”
“Pass!” His hand clamped firmly over her elbow. “Man oh man, like this area of town wasn’t creepy enough without vampire buildings.”
She paused outside the door, which looked like it was hanging on only one set of hinges, tapped, then watched in amazement as the door straightened, settled, and slowly swung open.
“Eeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhh,” Daniel creaked.
“Hush up!” she hissed. “This is creepy enough without your sound track.”
They both stepped inside, expecting a dusty warehouse. Instead, they saw shelves and shelves of books, low lighting, a hardwood floor gleaming mellowly from countless applications of wax. The place smelled like old paper, wax, and coffee.
Daniel whistled. “This place is bigger than the libe at the U of M.”
“Of course it is,” someone said from their left, and they both jumped.
“Sorry,” the woman said. “I thought at least one of you could hear me coming.”
Daniel and Andrea stared at her in frank wonder. She looked like someone’s mother . . . her chocolate-brown hair was streaked with gray, and her brown eyes were bracketed with laugh lines. She stood straight and erect in her dark blue suit, frothy white blouse, tan panty hose, and sensible shoes. She was very pale, but the lightest touches of makeup on her face served only to play up her features, not make her unusual coloring stand out.
“Welcome to the library,” she was saying. “I’m Marjorie, the head librarian. How can I help you, Andrea?”
Daniel gasped and his fingers sank into her elbow like claws.
“Ouch!”
“Andy, she knows your name!” he hissed in her ear. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
“I’m standing right here, dear,” Marjorie said dryly.
Andrea plucked Daniel’s hand off her elbow. “I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before, how do you know my name?”
“You have been here, dear,” Marjorie said, looking at her with something like compassion. “You just don’t remember. When Nostro’s followers finished with you, you and the other girls were brought here for cataloging.”
“Say what?” Daniel growled.
“We took
fingerprints, DNA samples, everything. In case you survived your first decade and found your way back here, we could tell you who you were. Had been,” she corrected herself. “Of course, the other girls never rose, poor things, and you wasted no time leaving town. We tried to talk to you, but . . .” Marjorie shook her head.
“But . . . I don’t remember any of that! I thought I’d been buried, or—”
“You assumed you had been. But those who die at the hands of a vampire are brought here when it’s at all possible. Of course, in the first place very few of them come back, and in the second, there’s little we can do to help them, but when they do return we have their credit cards, their checkbooks—we keep all those accounts open, we help you hang on to your house—or sell it, if that’s your wish—in fact, kudos, Ms. Mercer! You’re about three and a half years ahead of schedule. And showing up with a sheep, of all things!”
“A what?” they said in unison.
“Oh. Ah. Pardon me.” Marjorie coughed into her fist, a dry sound like a bullet. “I assumed . . . I assumed you were keeping this nice young man for feeding.”
“Well, she isn’t. I’m her driver, so there,” Daniel snapped. “Anything else going on is between two consenting adults.”
“Yes, of course.”
Andrea was rolling her eyes. “Daniel, could you not pick a fight with the first vampire we meet?”
He ignored her. “And I want to know about the fucks who killed her. What happened to them?”
“Well . . . nothing, at the time. Nostro was still in power. But now that Elizabeth, the One, has taken the throne, things will change. Three of them, in fact, died defending Nostro’s throne.” Marjorie smiled. It was kind of terrifying, like watching winter grin. “Too bad, so sad.”
“Awwwwwww,” Andrea said, feeling for the first time in a long while like it was her birthday.
“As to the others, you could certainly take your grievance to Her Majesty. You have considerable cause. What they did to you . . .” She shook her head. “Shameful. No excuse. We’re not animals.”
Cravings Page 12
