by Kim Schubert
“Where do you think you’re headed?” Tate asked hotly.
“We need to deal with the press,” I said understandingly to him. “I have a plan.”
He searched my eyes before nodding. “Your idea to get the protestors to back off has worked well. I will allow this.”
I raised an eyebrow at the use of the word allow, but didn’t push it; he had a lot on his plate tonight, so I cut him some slack.
Hobbling my way over, I reached the guard, who looked like an ex-Marine, and nodded to him. Surveying the crowd of reporters, I realized I knew nothing of the faces in front of me. Turning to the tall human, I asked, “You follow the news at all?”
He looked down at me, his stony features not changing at all. “I need someone who will tell the facts and not write something fear-based.”
He turned back to the crowd, and I thought he was ignoring me, but he called out, “Chin, front and center.”
From the back of the crowd, a short slightly overweight Asian woman in a gray dress suit came forward. “Yes?”
Tall and stony looked down at me. “I want you and one camera to come in,” I said to her. She hesitated for only a moment before her cameraman slipped a camera over her neck, taking away the audio equipment. Once stony was satisfied she had nothing else on her, including her cell phone, we moved back to the bodies.
Chin was silent, so I began, “The humans were loaded up on vampire blood, as it is becoming common knowledge it increases strength and healing abilities.”
“What are the long-term effects of that?” she asked nervously.
I shrugged, regretting it as my stitches moved. “Vampirism,” I said matter-of-factly.
She stumbled, staring at me. Stopping, I gave her a moment to adjust before continuing, “So, the humans were juiced up and broke into a local vampire’s home, killed his human helper, and began torturing the vampire.”
She nodded and I gestured to the bodies, hesitating again before she snapped pictures.
“You were here the entire night?” she asked above the camera.
“No, I arrived from a party mid-torture,” I stated tiredly.
“How do you know it was the humans and not the vampire who killed the helper?” she asked, gaining confidence.
“The vampire kills look like this,” I said, pointing out the row of bodies. “The human had bullets shot through her,” I said sadly.
“You sound upset about one housekeeper dying, not the dozen here,” she stated more than asked.
“I am upset she was killed for doing nothing wrong, but was just an innocent bystander. The rest made their choices and this,” I motioned to the bodies, “was the consequence.”
“Many would argue that was the just fate of someone who worked for the vampires,” she said, done taking pictures yet still staring at the bodies lined up and the few in bloody piles.
I shook my head. “That doesn’t seem fair or just. It’s just sad such fear exists.”
Chin nodded, and I walked her back to the gate.
Looking back at the flashing red and blue lights, I heaved a sigh as Blake and Tate were in a heated conversation with uniformed officers, Mercer offering no advice or assistance. For a brief moment, I gave thought to helping, before I remembered that the vampires caused this mess, and I went to sit with Mal on the steps to wait it out.
“You could go help,” Mal said, not bothering to look over at me.
“What would the fun in that be?” I asked, cringing as my newly formed stitches pulled.
Slapping me on the back, she stood. “Then come help clean the mess.”
I huffed, staring up at her grumpily. “Alright,” I conceded.
Between Mal, me, and the several vampires who had drawn the unfortunate clean-up duty, we had the house back in fighting shape a few hours after sunrise. Blake had not been back inside yet, and I was mildly worried. Following Mal outside, I ignored her pointed glare at her bloodied, torn, and now bleach-stained dress.
I wasn’t going to change and ruin my own perfectly good clothing.
Only Mercer remained outside, the bodies having been hauled away by the coroners. Blake’s blue eyes were streaked through with blood from the stress and pain of being defanged. He needed sleep. Sliding up next to him, I slipped under his shoulder, wrapping my arm around his waist and bracing my legs wide for the extra weight he pushed onto me.
“We are done, Mercer,” I said, turning Blake toward the house.
“Not until I say so,” Mercer demanded, hauling me back around.
I smiled wickedly at Mercer, slipping out as Mal took my place under Blake, and I stepping right into his personal space.
“Step gingerly, Mercer; you’re pushing the buttons of a vampire who could use a fresh kill, and I might be willing to give it to him,” I said, pulling back to see the whites of his eyes. He quickly stepped back.
Easing myself on Blake’s other side, I turned to Tate. “Get him inside,” he growled.
Mal and I made quick work of that task, setting Blake down in the living room on the overstuffed dark blue oversized couch. Pulling back, I sat on the coffee table in front of him, holding his hand as his eyes rolled into his head.
Tate sat next to me, cutting deeply into his wrist before pressing it into Blake’s mouth. Aged vampire blood would speed the healing process, but it would do nothing for the pain.
Blake drank deeply, his eyes, once open, never left my own and his bloodstained hand cradled gently in my own as I gave him a small smile. His eyes dropped heavily, his body taking over the healing process from the control freak.
Tate stood, flexing his healed wrist.
“You will watch him,” Tate said.
“I don’t take orders,” I growled.
He turned, his eyes full amber, fangs descended. “You will watch him,” he repeated as I snarled, bunching my muscles, ready to leap.
Mal stood between us. “Tate, Olie, back down. We’ve all had a very stressful night. Olie will stay here. Tate, let’s go figure out who the hell leaked Blake’s home address and supplied those fuckers with the heavy artillery.”
Easing down from my crouch, I shifted to adjust the sharp tilt of Blake’s neck and removed his blood-covered shoes before resting his feet also on the couch.
Mal sent an exhausted look at me before leaving. “Lock up, Olie.”
I nodded when I wanted to snarl. Moving the coffee table away, I lay next to the couch for a few hours of shut-eye.
Chapter 13
My hip hurt, my stomach was on fire, and my left arm was throbbing dully in rhythm with the gigantic ache in my head. Groaning, I turned on my back, staring up at the pristine ceiling. A cellphone was ringing annoyingly and repetitively as I dug around on the sofa.
Squinting up, I was glad to see Blake was sleeping through this.
“What?” I growled when I finally found Blake’s annoying phone.
“Olivia,” Tate hissed at me.
“Yes, Tate,” I said wearily as Blake roused. Dropping the phone to my shoulder, I settled on my knees, smiling down at him. “Hey,” I said softly as his bright blue eyes focused on me, and he touched my cheek gently.
He groaned, reaching out for his phone. “What?” he growled, possibly as annoyed as I was.
Getting back up, I sat down on the coffee table, rubbing my shoulder to ease the tension.
“When?” Blake asked. “Who?” He looked up at me, rubbing his jaw. “I will ask.” Ending the call, he pushed to his feet.
“Can I interest you in a shower?” he asked, extending a hand. “And a visit to the compound?”
Smiling, I forced the wince back down as I took his hand and we hobbled our way to his bedroom. We moved slowly with a few grunts and groans as we shared a few hesitant smiles.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, impressed with the cleaning crew as we entered his room.
He shrugged, heading straight for the bathroom. “About as well as can be expected, given I’ve been de-fanged.” Rubbing h
is jaw slowly, he added, “Can’t say I ever would have thought about that before tonight.”
I smiled, leaning against the large expanse of counter as he turned on the warm water. “The best forms of torture are one you can experience for yourself,” I informed him.
He nodded, looking back at me, his eyes searching my own. A close call with death was never easy. No matter how many I had, there was still that exhilaration of escaping to live another day. Torture, now that bred a whole new list of problems.
Blake smiled closed-lipped before chucking his shirt into the trash, followed by his shoes and pants. He didn’t spare me a backwards glance as he stepped into the steaming shower, naked. Following suit, I pulled off Mal’s ruined dress and undergarments, the cool air chilling my skin.
Blake still hadn’t turned around as I placed my hand on the shower door, pulling the glass back almost timidly. Sex wasn’t a new thing for me, but this felt different.
As I closed the door softly, he turned to look at me with the forlorn face of a haunted, damaged vampire. I smiled, laying my hand against his chest and shivered when the warm water trickled over my fingers. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders pulling me into the spray of the water with him. Tilting my head up, I searched those blue depths, trying to understand why sex with Blake felt different, why I felt almost vulnerable.
The answer wasn’t in his eyes or in the dark locks plastered to his forehead. Pressing up on my tiptoes, I gently touched my lips to his, unsure how painful that would be for him. His hand snaked up to tangle in my wet locks pressing me firmly against him.
My instincts took the lead as my defenses dropped, running the pads of my fingers over his hardened body. His lips were firm yet gentle and neither of us dared a tongue, given his raw mouth. Cradling my face, he pulled away to look down at me as I looked up at my beautiful damaged vampire.
“I want more than sex,” he stated, now searching my eyes.
I blinked blearily, not understanding, so he continued. “I don’t want sex to know I’m alive. I want to sleep with you because we have a relationship.”
Tilting my head slightly, I found my voice. “I don’t know how to have those,” I answered softly.
Stroking my cheek, he leaned down to kiss me tenderly again, moving from my lips to my jawbone and finally, my ear.
“No other,” he said, pulling back to watch my expression.
“Exclusive?” I said, almost doubting.
He nodded. Shoving my finger against his chest, I informed him, “Break your word, and I’ll break your neck.”
He smiled, pushing my finger easily off his chest. “Same goes for you,” he whispered, running his warm lips over my ear. My body involuntarily shuddered as my hands flexed on his biceps. Enjoying my reaction, he held me tightly while he worked on my other ear.
Panting, I tipped my head up, closing my eyes and allowing Blake to caress my neck with his very talented tongue. My guards slipped further, and it should have worried me, but what he then did to my breasts had my brain shutting down completely.
His warm mouth mingled with the water, but it was the sucking and nibbling that had me coming undone as he maneuvered me back against the tiled shower wall.
Pinning me with his rapidly warming body, he pushed my legs apart with one of his own, groaning as he pressed his fingers gently into me.
“You smell divine, Olivia,” he whispered against my ear, pushing more aggressively into me as a yelp escaped my lips.
Nuzzling my neck, he pulled out of me as a demanding growl left my lips. Speech was beyond me, but he was riding my emotions and would understand the urgency and need. His eyes widened; he grabbed my ass and pulled me up as I wrapped my arms securely around his neck and locked my legs on the small of his back. With a swift, well-practiced movement, he had himself deep within me. I growled with pleasure, letting my eyes close blissfully.
Slowly Blake pulled out, moving only to push me back down again. Arching my back, I tilted my hips until he pressed me painfully against the tiles. Growling again, I tightened my grip on his backside until he moved again.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he whispered, pushing forcefully into me, “you should have warned me.” He panted, his eyes full amber.
I smiled, a gasp escaping me as his pace increased. “Less talking,” I gasped, crying out as he increased his pace even more.
My arms locked around his neck, leaning my head against his shoulder as my body shook with the needed orgasm releasing inside of me.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered into my ear, the speed and heat pushing me over the edge as I screamed. Blake followed me into bliss, biting deeply into my neck and pulling much needed blood out. It hurt more than usual with no fangs to inject the blissful toxins into me. I held on as my vision blackened and I went limp in his arms.
It felt like hours later when I groggily awoke curled next to Blake, who was gently stroking my dry locks. Groaning, I snuggled down into him. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, kissing the top of my head.
I again ignored speech as my contentment coated us both. “I should have warned you,” I eventually whispered sleepily.
Being a succubus meant my powers lie in influencing emotions, sex is a recharge of my abilities, giving me greater control and depth. So why don’t I shag everyone I’ve ever been attracted to? You’ll see.
“Yeah, I think you just ruined me for other women,” he said, chuckling as he nuzzled me.
Tipping my head back, I tasted my blood on his lips, licking gently. “There is that,” I said smiling, teasing him back, pushing into a seated position so I could see him better.
“My shielding will no longer block out my emotions from you,” I said, watching his eyes warily. This is why I don’t take random lovers. Willing unions resulted in my shields not working. For many, this was too much to handle; for other, they viewed it as an annoyance.
“You are worried,” he said, smiling.
“Yes,” I answered. “It will fade over time,” I added softly.
“And if we keep doing this?” he asked, stroking my hair.
“I don’t know,” I answered softly, shrugging and breaking eye contact.
“Why are you sad?” he asked, tipping my chin back up. Searching my eyes, he smiled. “I don’t mind it, Olie. In fact,” he said, setting me against his side, “it made sex amazing, and feeling your contentment is even better.”
I was silent. I didn’t know what to say; the emotions in my chest were foreign. Anger, hate, frustration, guilt were all emotions I knew well. What was happening inside me now, I couldn’t name.
Chapter 14
Morgan gave Tate an annoyed look as Blake pulled more of the healing blood from his wrist. Idly, I spun in Tate’s office chair, watching the serious vampires in sporadic views. What I really wanted was a few more hours of sleep. Feeding Blake twice in a short amount of time had taken a lot out of me, even with the recharge of mind-blowing sex.
Mal stopped my spinning with a hip, setting down orange juice and a sugary sweet breakfast spread.
“Thanks,” I said, wolfing down the French toast.
She didn’t answer me; instead, she became occupied with the other vampires in the room. Shrugging, I filled my stomach with the feast I was in desperate need of. Leaning back in the overstuffed red leather chair, I surveyed the vampires and their uncanny attention to Blake.
What was up with that?
I snuggled in the chair more comfortably, not bothering to hide the yawn that forced its way past my lips. My eyelids became leaden, and as the lethargy began to deaden my legs, I snarled at Mal, warning, “This was a very bad idea,” before the darkness fully claimed me.
A sedated dream state might truly be my worst torture, my guards are down, my emotions run rampant, and I cannot wake up from the nightmares, the hellish nightmares that define and degrade me.
The silver cell was cold. It was always cold against the metal, I thought idly, my brain still numb from the terrors I has seen earlier
. My body wanted to shut down, but I knew the man coming through the door wouldn’t let me. It was his job to make me strong, make me better than my pathetic heritage.
The door opened, outlining his jean-clad body etched with muscle forged from the hard labor we endured here.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said softly, crouching down in front of my body, curled into a fetal position that I had forced it into after the beating I had suffered earlier.
I eyed him warily. He liked it when I was glad to see him, when I was sad and cried. He didn’t like it when I refused him. I wanted to refuse him, but letting him do what he wanted meant more freedom, more freedom meant escape. I wasn’t strong enough yet, but I would be.
“Hurt,” I said sadly, the bloody lip and bruised face sending more shards of agony.
“I know, beautiful,” he whispered, trying to tilt my head.
“Not beautiful,” I said, hiding my head down.
“Hey, none of that,” he murmured, sitting next to me against the freezing metal. He was warm and I couldn’t help leaning into him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, gently stroking my back softly.
Lifting my head, I let the tears trickle just slightly. He shifted me to his lap, cradling me, as it seemed natural for him to do so. He liked it when I sighed contentedly, so I did.
“What do you want?” he asked gently.
I knew the right answer as my gaze betrayed me, glancing to the hard metal bed. I managed to contain the disgusted shake that wanted to break free. The last thing I wanted was his body next to me inside of me. I hated it, and I wanted to rip his throat out. I could. I was strong enough to do it, but I had to wait, had to bide my time.
“Shower?” I asked hopefully, lifting my small head to his dark brown eyes.
“There isn’t a shower here,” he reminded me, the wrinkles on his face crinkling together as he smiled gently.
I had been to his place only once and it had been for a kill of a trespasser. I’ll never forget her face as she screamed she could help me. Fool, she had been caught; she couldn’t even help herself.
