Unending Desire: Outlawed Realm, Book 1

by Tina Donahue

  Face raised to the skylight, fangs exposed, Andris bristled with energy and power, his blond hair more white than yellow, his pale skin glowing, his irises silvered from the moon’s gentle glow. Fists clenched, shoulders bunched, he hissed loudly.

  The others followed his lead. Sazaar made certain she produced the lustiest sound, craving his approval and attention.

  Andris regarded her without emotion, his indifference returned…unchanged.

  Sazaar’s belly cramped worse than it did when she hungered for blood, a condition he’d damned her to without a moment’s hesitation. Then, he’d promised her an eternity of his love and delivered nothing but humiliation and pain.

  Her muscles stiffened in rage, stealing her breath. Overwhelming sorrow followed, along with the continuing need to make him see only her, to want only her. He was all she had left. All her future held.

  She couldn’t give up. Perhaps if she tried harder. Perhaps if she gave him everything he desired.

  She made a sound in the back of her throat, one of supplication, inviting him to claim her again as he had last night.

  Another noise intruded, a prolonged sigh that came from behind.

  Andris turned in its direction to the ponytailed barista. Slouched against one of their human protectors, the girl grinned indecently as the young man fondled her naked breasts with his left hand while his other held an assault rifle.

  Its metal glinted in the filmy light. Satanic tattoos covered his meaty arms and thick neck. Beyond redemption, he’d slaughtered a Seattle family earlier in the year, taking the mother, father and their three children hostage because they’d interrupted his burglary of their home. For hours, he’d taunted and terrorized them, raping the mother and oldest daughter, playing his savage game that ended in the family’s death.

  Shortly after the carnage, Andris had smelled the young man’s corruption and craved his blood but fought his urge to feed, recruiting him for protection instead. Three other men, all in their mid-twenties, all labeled sociopaths in this realm, flanked the room, cradling weapons in their arms as a normal man might hold a babe.

  Sensing Andris’s attention and disapproval, the barista slipped away from the young man. With more arrogance than sense, he reached for her, unable to follow because of the shackle around his left ankle. Bolted to the floor, it kept him from abandoning his post.

  Fetters also held the other protectors in place.

  They accepted their confinement without protest, at least for the time. This one did not. Yanking his foot against a restraint he could not break, he growled, “Fuck.” Again, he reached for the barista, seemingly oblivious to anything but his own lust.

  Sazaar watched without emotion, the same as the others, waiting to see how events played out.

  “Come here.” The young man grunted, straining to reach the girl.

  She backed away again. All fell quiet. Even the night breeze had paused.

  Breathing hard, the protector spoke through his teeth. “You get over here now,” he said, “or I’ll give you some of this.” He lifted his weapon.

  The girl stared at the assault rifle with more curiosity than dread. A smile tilted the corners of her mouth. She licked the points of her fangs.

  His finger slipped to the trigger. Easing it back, he muttered, “Fucking weird bitch. Do as I say or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Andris interrupted, his tone more puzzled than angry.

  The young man’s attention snapped to him. His scowl turned to a cruel grin, the kind one would give to a partner in crime. “I’ll blow her fucking kneecaps off; then I’ll tear the rest of her apart with my bare hands. I’ll teach her real good that no bitch defies me, just like you’ve taught your ladies to obey.” He glanced at the other women in the room, settling at last on Sazaar.

  Repulsed, she turned away, facing Andris. His attention remained on the young man, his manner quite mild. “You intend to follow my example.”

  The protector laughed. “Hey, dude, you’re the best, right?”

  Andris smiled.

  Clearly bolstered by it, the young man spoke to the barista. “Get over here now, you fucking—”

  His command turned to a gasp. Arms flailing, he fell back with the force of Andris’s body slamming into his, their combined weight making a loud thumping noise as they hit the floor. The assault weapon flew from his hand, clattering across the marble, stopping at the barista’s feet. Claws extended, Andris shredded the young man’s throat. His blood arced across the room. Mouths opened, vampire after vampire attempted to catch the precious drops. Andris drank from the gaping wound.

  His kill was so fresh the young man’s gaze still darted from face to face, as though he didn’t understand what had happened. His lips moved with the last of his breath and life, mouthing words no one could hear.

  Warned off by the attack, the three remaining protectors kept their expressions blank, their attention on the corpse of their comrade, what would happen to them if they displeased Andris in the least.

  He fed noisily, his sucks and slurps filling the cavernous loft, riveting the other vampires with the enticing sounds. Even so, they kept their distance. Like lions witnessing a kill on an African plain, they waited for their chance to feed.

  The victim’s eyes sank into his sockets as Andris continued to drain fluid from his body. A current of anticipation rippled through the spectators. Sazaar sensed their hunger, the same as hers. To feed after Andris wasn’t only a privilege but ecstasy. His saliva flavored the victim’s plasma, making it richer, thicker.

  Her mouth watered. She drew closer.

  Instantly, Andris lifted his head. Blood dirtied his cheeks and chin, the rich red color turned black by the gloom, his manner suddenly threatening.

  Proving her devotion, that nothing mattered to her but him, Sazaar sank to her knees. She dipped her fingers into a pool of blood near the young man’s severed foot, torn off at the ankle, freed from the shackle by the power of Andris’s attack. Hand lifted, she offered the treat to her master.

  Andris licked her fingers clean, then returned to his meal, nearly draining the corpse, leaving little for everyone else. On a satisfied groan, he stood and stepped back.

  With keening wails that grew too high-pitched to hear, the other vampires moved forward, swarming over the body, taking what they could. Falling to her hip and edging back, Sazaar lapped the blood at the boy’s dismembered foot.

  The barista and her friend noticed. They crawled toward Sazaar, their shoulders ramming hers, their elbows jabbing, forcing her to retreat, to give them her meal.

  Enraged, she fought back, knowing their next target would be Andris, wanting him for their own. She slashed the ponytailed barista across her chest, relishing the girl’s howl. She sank her fangs into the shoulder of her friend, interrupting her hiss. Despite her attack, they wouldn’t relent.

  Blindly, Sazaar bit and clawed. Her mouth opened on a scream of frustration cut short by her gasp. She stared at Andris grabbing the barista’s ponytail, using it to lift her from the floor. With one powerful swing, he flung her across the room. Her body crashed into the velvet-covered wall, then crumpled at the feet of one of their human protectors.

  He made no move to help her. His attention remained on Andris, his expression revealing his awe and admiration.

  Andris glared at the other barista. Terror filled her youthful face. She crawled backward, putting distance between them. It didn’t matter. Andris stalked closer, intent on his prey, his words menacing. “The blood belongs to Sazaar.”

  Sazaar stared, surprised and moved at him protecting her.

  Nodding, the girl crabbed away from him. He followed, his body darting from side to side, mimicking her movements perfectly. Still, she retreated, straight into the wall. She glanced at it, then back.

  Too late.

  Grabbing her hair, Andris hurled her across the room. Arms and legs thrashing, the girl’s body sailed above the others, landing with a loud thud near her friend. C
hastised, they huddled together, licking their wounds. Within seconds, their torn flesh healed, leaving no scars or bruises. The ponytailed barista kissed her friend’s cheek, then sought her mouth. They necked as the others continued to feed.

  Andris glided to Sazaar, his feet not touching the floor. “Drink,” he said, gesturing to the pool of blood.

  At his kindness, her eyes filled with tears. She lifted her hand to him and begged, “Join me. Take all of it.”

  On his knees at her side, he stroked her hair with care and tenderness. Sazaar swallowed. Her lids slipped down.

  “You take it,” he murmured, “I want you to be strong for tonight.”

  Her body tensed instantly, her happiness fading faster than it had peaked. He’d offered the blood only so she could find Regina and Nikoli. So he could use them to return to E2. Not because he cared.

  Before she could stop them, the words spilled from her. “Once we’re back in our true home, will you love me then?”

  Andris trailed his fingers down her temple to her throat, touching the spot where he’d first fed on her. “You and I will rule our realm.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, catching on her jaw before falling free. “But will you love me, Andris?”

  “I love you now.” He latched on to her neck, his fangs piercing her skin, though not to drink but to claim.

  So easily, too easily, Sazaar’s heart opened to him yet again, allowing her to ignore his lie. He didn’t love her now, but he might once she gave him what he needed most. What no one else could.

  Turning her face to his, she licked blood from his smooth cheek, savoring its metallic taste. As he eased back, she held him with her hands, her palms on either side of his head, cleaning the rest of the blood from his face, licking the points of his fangs, longer than the others, more deadly.

  Excitement coiled in her belly at Andris’s savage allure. At the thought of ruling with him, waves of anticipation tightened her sheath and chest. There, a muscle ticked, mimicking a heartbeat, a sensation she’d forgotten since being turned, one she relished now. Lips on his, fangs withdrawn, Sazaar coaxed Andris’s tongue into her mouth, still flavored with the protector’s blood.

  Enraptured at the taste of human and vampire, she suckled hungrily, unable to help herself.

  Andris allowed their kiss for several minutes, then tore his mouth free. Gripping her upper arms, he asked, “Do you smell the woman?”

  Regina’s scent, so familiar to Sazaar, rode the clear night air where it mingled with millions of other odors, some pleasant, some foul. They drifted in and out, masking Regina’s fragrance but not hiding it.

  “Yes, I smell her,” Sazaar answered.

  Andris’s grip tightened on her arms, his claws digging into her flesh. “Where is she? Is Nikoli with her?”

  He was. Even if she hadn’t smelled Nikoli’s scent, she knew he wouldn’t abandon Regina. He loved her too much.

  A new wave of grief cut through Sazaar at what Regina so easily commanded from a man. Sazaar had given so much—she’d lost everything in her pursuit of the same and still didn’t have it.

  She looked from Andris’s hands on her to his face. Her body weakened as it always did at his unearthly beauty.

  “Do you know where the woman is?” he asked, shaking Sazaar as one would a recalcitrant child, impatient for a response.

  She couldn’t give it. Too many questions filled her mind. Once they were on E2, how long would he keep his word to claim only her? A year? A month? A day? An hour? Would such a short time be enough to soothe her battered soul? While he enjoyed others, both female and male, would she be able to fill her eternity with memories of his promises and her foolish hopes?

  Brows drawn together, Andris opened his mouth and hissed.

  His fetid breath aroused her. His anger brought no fear. For a few precious moments, she had his attention. He noticed no one else in the room. “Yes,” she answered at last. “And Nikoli is with her.”

  Pleasure transformed Andris’s features from vile to angelic. Releasing her, his claws retracting, he ran his fingers over the edge of her black gown, tracing the neckline above the swell of her breasts. Sazaar trembled in delight.

  Andris whispered, “Bring me to them.”

  “I will.” She’d deliver Regina for him to feed on and kill. There was no other outcome. Regina had no purpose on E2, so turning her would be cruel. The woman had done nothing to harm Sazaar. She’d only tried to help. And with her gone, Nikoli’s grief would be so great he’d welcome an end to his own pain.

  In death, Sazaar could give them both what they wanted…the chance to be together for all time. In that way, she’d assuage any guilt.

  Andris rose to his feet. The other vampires followed. Glancing up, Sazaar drove away the last of her doubt as to the course she’d take. Doomed by love, she stood and began the transformation. What their human protectors would see but not hear.

  She missed none of the sounds of her bones compressing, becoming a fraction of their size. The noise resembled the grinding of stone, the squeal of metal reaching the limits of its strength before snapping. Searing pain ripped through her, stealing her breath and her agonized cries.

  Head thrown back, her mind begged for a pause to the agony, a chance to rally her endurance.

  Her body took no notice or pity. With a creaking sound, her shoulders continued to narrow even as she shrunk one foot, two, three and more. Her milky skin darkened, the smooth flesh growing leathery. Where once had been arms, she now had the wings of a bat, no different from the others.

  The sound of their beating wings thundered through the loft as they flew to its ceiling. Beneath them, the protectors watched, their expressions a mix of awe, horror and excitement.

  With the change complete, Sazaar’s suffering ended as quickly as it had begun, the lack of pain delivering relief and drowsiness. Fighting it, she led the way from the lair, entering the ceiling vent, traversing its murky contours with skill born of heightened senses. In this form and as a vampire, she saw, heard, smelled what humans could not.

  Regina’s unique fragrance called to Sazaar. Free of the building, she headed into the cold night with Andris at her side and the others following. Gliding above rooftops, she caught the rancid odor of vegetables and eggs decaying in a bin. Beneath it, Sazaar identified vanilla. Banking to the right, she turned, following the scent.

  Below, the horns of several cars honked. Red, yellow, green and blue lights glowed on the neon signs atop businesses. Humans talked and laughed unaware of the movement above them. Several cats noticed and stopped their nightly prowls to lift their heads and look.

  The vanilla scent grew stronger. Swooping down to follow it, Sazaar came upon a squat brick building. Steam poured from several vents on the roof. On its facade was an image of bread in brown-and-white paint. Words circled it, reading Temple’s Bakery.

  Andris flew closer, emitting a high-pitched cry, wanting to know if Sazaar had found Regina and Nikoli.

  In answer, she pitched to the left, winging past several downtown structures, catching the scent of peaches this time, along with the vanilla. At Regina’s office building, Sazaar hovered in place, aware of Andris’s building impatience and the tension of those behind them as they awaited her sign that she’d reached the correct goal.

  Sazaar wasn’t certain. Although the fragrance was indisputably Regina’s, it seemed far too faint, as though it were no more than a residue of her scent.

  To test it, Sazaar’s mind reached out to Regina’s. “Invite us in,” her thoughts whispered, “allow us to join you.”

  A cat hissed. One of the vampires broke free of the formation, falling through the air, landing on the animal, draining its blood within seconds.

  Sazaar’s mind called to Regina again. “Let us in.”

  This time, the city’s sounds responded—a clamor of noise Sazaar had once found vibrant. Tonight, its shrillness unnerved her. Where is she? Flapping her winds, gaining altitude, Sazaar floated on
a wind current, her mind focused, her senses elevated.

  On her third whiff, she recognized Regina’s scent…and Nikoli’s. Their odors merged like lovers, almost indistinguishable, mocking Sazaar.

  He hadn’t loved her for a moment. He’d given her nothing more than his honor. Jealousy ripped through Sazaar along with a primal thrill of a predator on the hunt. “Lead me to her,” her mind asked the scents. “Show me where she and Nikoli are hiding.”

  A new current of wind rushed past. On it, the fragrance was stronger. It came from the left, leading her in a new direction. Seamlessly, she turned to follow it.

  The other vampires mimicked her movements with Andris flying closest to her. The sounds he emitted warned Sazaar to hasten the search, to find their prey.

  She concentrated on nothing else. Not the traffic or the humans below. Not the downtown area she’d just left. Not the stately houses in the residential area she’d just entered. Here, dogs barked at the sounds she and the others made. Humans shouted for their pets to be quiet. A car moved down the street, its engine humming smoothly.

  The scent grew stronger, nearly overpowering, the same as when Sazaar had sat across from Regina in her office. Focused, she chased the fragrance to the end of the street, a two-story house of red brick with three gables, a black roof and a fenced yard overflowing with trees and bushes.

  Regina’s home.

  Relief swept through Sazaar, along with an emotion she chose not to identify. With their wings beating the chilly air, she, Andris and the other vampires circled the house.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Face lifted to the bedroom’s ceiling, Regina held her breath. She and Nikoli stood in the center of the shadowed room, the fire’s waning light their only illumination.

  Outside, wind rushed through the trees, shaking branches. The boughs of several firs hit the windows, making faint tapping noises on the glass. Underneath it, Regina heard something else, a sound like sheets slapping in the breeze…or the flapping of wings.

  “Invite us in.”

  She flinched. Sazaar’s request sounded from everywhere and nowhere. It seemed to be inside of her.