Blood Laws

by Lexi C. Foss

  Mike and Brutus excused themselves in a similar fashion to Tristan, inclining their heads in a gesture of respect, before prowling about for another victim. She relaxed into the muscular wall at her back.

  His fingers curled around her throat as his mouth found her ear. “What are you doing here, Astasiya?”

  She tried to turn to face him, but he held her in place. He wouldn’t hurt her. She was sure of it. But he sounded furious.

  “Answer me.”

  Right. Time to improvise. “Well, most people come to clubs to dance.” Even as she said it, she knew it was an absurd excuse. She was here looking for him and he knew it.

  “I don’t see you dancing.”

  “That’s because I’m being manhandled.” Asshole.

  “This is not a game.” The low rumble in his voice made her squirm. That tone was meant for the bedroom. It required compliance and submission, and at the same time seduced. A man of his experience would know what he wanted and how he wanted it. He would be nothing like her previous experiences.

  He bit her ear to bring her back to the present. What would that mouth feel like on other parts of her body? He seemed to enjoy nibbling. Her nipples tightened at the prospect of him focusing his attentions there. “Who told you to come here?”

  “Why do you care?” Her voice was a little higher than she intended. He evoked a response from her unlike any other. Not that her limited experiences was much of a comparison.

  “Because whoever sent you here was trying to get you killed.”

  She frowned. Tom wouldn’t put her life in danger. He might be angry with her, but he still cared about her.

  “Look around you,” he told her, angling her towards the back of the room. She much preferred the view of the dance floor and the door.

  “Yeah, I’m not really into voyeurism.” She tried to look away, but the hand on her neck held her in place.

  “Watch.”

  Not having much choice, she took in the threesome going at it on the couch. The near naked woman was sprawled out with one man beneath her skirt and the other at her exposed breasts. Her dark head was tossed back in bliss while both men worked her over with frantic mouths. “Is this what you’re into, Issac? Kinky shit?” Is this what Tom wanted her to see?

  “Oh, darling, you have no idea what I’m into.” The gentle kiss he laid on her neck belied his furious tone. “Look closer. What are they really doing?”

  Swallowing, she looked again. The whole scene made her uncomfortable, because she kept flickering to images of Issac doing those things to her. She was almost jealous of the woman on the couch. Maybe a threesome was what she needed to get him out of her blood.

  Blood.

  The realization narrowed her pupils, then enlarged them. Her hand flew to her mouth. The man at her breast was licking up a deep red rivulet of blood flowing down from her nipple. She couldn’t see what the other guy was doing, but he was angled more towards her femoral artery than her core.

  They weren’t pleasuring the woman. They were drinking her blood.

  Oh, what the fuck …?

  Two couches over was a foursome of three women with one man. He was the picture of ecstasy with one woman on her knees before him, her head moving up and down with the music while the other two took turns lapping at the wound on his neck.

  “Yes, you see it now, don’t you?” His whisper was harsh against her throat. “Now tell me why you’re here. Who sent you to die, Astasiya?”

  “No.” She tried to shake her head, but his grip was too tight. “He wouldn’t. He just wanted …” Wanted her to what? Realize Issac wasn’t human? That would imply Tom knew. How could he know something like that? Her knees felt weak. If he knew, did Dr. Fitzgerald know? Wouldn’t that imply the CRF knew too?

  Issac’s speculations … No. No way. She couldn’t believe any of it. There was no way Tom knew what she would find here. Fuck.

  “Thomas.” Issac growled against her. “That’s what he told you in the hallway last night. To come here.”

  It was happening everywhere. On the couches, against the back walls and on the dance floor behind them. In her pursuit of Issac, she missed seeing what was right before her eyes.

  She was in the middle of a pack of bloodthirsty demons. “This is an Ichorian club.” Her stomach rolled. Why would Tom send her here? Did he know Issac was an Ichorian? If he did, why not just tell her? Why put her at risk like this? You and I are going to have a very long conversation, Tom. Assuming she survived the night.

  “Indeed it is. Come, I need—”

  “Is there a problem, Issac?” The cultured voice came from her right, interrupting what Issac was about to say. She hardly registered the exchange, her gaze still on the couches. She spotted a third group who appeared to be having sex while drinking blood. It was a woman sandwiched between two men. Her face had taken on an unhealthy ashen tint rather than a euphoric one. She’s dying …

  “No problem, Osiris. Just having a conversation about what happens to women who are disobedient.” Issac’s harsh words drew her attention to the bald man standing before him. He was about the same height as her, making their green eyes level with one another.

  The slight hardening of the hand around her neck told her to keep quiet. It was a warning she didn’t need. Despite the man’s normal outward appearance, he emanated danger. It was in the way he carried himself, confident that he was the biggest predator here despite his smaller size. As they appeared to be in a demon club, that was saying something.

  There was something familiar about the olive-toned man, yet she was certain they had never met. He was too ancient to have ever made her acquaintance. How she knew that, she wasn’t quite sure. It had something to do with the general lack of humanity shining through his green gaze. This was a man who held little remorse for the world.

  He studied her like a possession rather than a person. His intelligent gaze slid over every line and detail of her body, going right through her all the way to the depths of her soul. She shivered when his perusal ended, the slight curl in his lips indicating he found her lacking as he addressed Issac.

  “Eager to join us, is she?”

  “Something like that.”

  The birthmark at the base of her spine tingled in warning. All it would take was a word and he would end her life. Or make Issac do it for him. She suspected he wouldn’t have a choice if the man deemed it necessary. He was the man in charge. She was certain of it.

  “Bring her tonight. We could all use a diversion and your punishments are always so creative.”

  The way he said it, so cold and calculating, had gooseflesh scattering down her arms. Her fear of the trio surrounding her earlier was nothing compared to the terror she felt now. How could Tom send her here knowing the danger this place possessed? Was he that angry with her for not taking his dating advice? A slew of unpleasant words blasted through her mind at once, all directed at her friend.

  Issac stroked his finger down the column of her throat as he considered the proposal. Her pulse raced as she waited, wondering what he would do. If he even had a choice. “As much as I would enjoy providing some evening entertainment, I fear her punishment will be for my eyes only tonight. She’s made me quite hungry and I don’t feel up to sharing.”

  “Disappointing.” From the way he looked at Issac, she could tell he didn’t like being disappointed. “Bring her anyway.”

  She recognized the power in those three words. The familiar note of persuasion was one she heard in her own voice, but his was more compelling. Even she felt pressured to obey and she wasn’t even sure where he wanted Issac to take her.

  “Of course, Sire.”

  It was the second time she heard that word tonight. Sire must be a term of reverence or superiority, similar to how one would address a king.

  “We’ll see just how eager she is to join us afterwards.” Ancient eyes met hers, freezing her inside. It hurt to breathe. “I suggest you behave, little one. Issac is not known for his merc
y; a trait I admire deeply.” With that solemn warning, he sauntered over to the staircase and up. The guards bowed their heads as he passed, adding to his air of authority. Whoever he was, it was evident Issac looked up to him, maybe even respected him. Yes, definitely the one in charge.

  “Not a word,” he whispered against her ear. “You need to do exactly what I say. Now walk with me.”

  Cool air met her neck as he dropped his hold. One of his hands slid to the small of her back to propel her forward. Several people turned to watch them pass. She didn’t ask where he was taking her, choosing to stay quiet as he requested.

  When they started up the same stairs after Osiris she hesitated, but a subtle push against her spine kept her going. The guards stepped aside, nodding at Issac instead of bowing. One of them looked her over with interest as she passed, his dark eyes holding all sorts of unwanted invitations. She moved closer to her escort on instinct, matching his strides with purposeful ones of her own.

  There was another bar on the upper level surrounded by luxurious couches and chairs. She was somewhat relieved to see everyone up here was just socializing over drinks like normal people, until she realized one of those people was the blonde Issac had dinner with the other night. Clara, if she remembered correctly. The woman looked fresh off the runway in a short black dress and stiletto heels. Her face broke into a wide grin at Issac’s approach, only to fall when she realized his arm was around her.

  The subtle shake of his head didn’t escape Stas’s notice, nor Clara’s. She gave him a pouty face in response to whatever he was telling her. This must have been who he was with prior to coming downstairs with Tristan and his blond friend. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing. That’s what Tom wanted her to find. He knew Issac visited this club with Clara and wanted her to catch him with another woman. That made more sense than him sending her into a demon club.

  He led her down a hallway lined with doors. Stopping at one, he turned the knob and guided her inside. When it closed, they were shrouded in darkness and silence. He pushed her up against the wall, his hands in her hair and his mouth hovering above hers.

  “There are cameras everywhere.” Each word was breathed against her lips. “And they all have night vision, so put your hands on me and make it look like you’re enjoying this.”

  “Won’t your Clara be jealous?” She regretted it the moment she said it. Here she was in the middle of a demon club and all she was thinking about was what he’d been doing with Clara before coming downstairs. How very logical. She rolled her eyes upwards and wrapped her arms around his neck. If he heard her inane comment, he didn’t remark on it.

  “What are you wearing under this dress?”

  Not what she expected him to say. “Excuse me?”

  His teeth sunk into her lower lip, making her yelp. “Focus.”

  She frowned. “A thong and a strapless bra.” Both black and lacy. Lingerie was one of her secret indulgences. Not that she ever put them to good use.

  One of his hands drifted from her hair to her waist, then down to her ass. His palm flattened and forced her to arch up into him. A breath hitched in her throat at the feel of his growing arousal. Mixing business and pleasure?

  His lips brushed hers in a chaste kiss that belied the passion they were feigning for the camera. “The dress will have to stay then.”

  “What’s wrong with my dress?” It hit her mid-thigh and clung to her curves. She looked good in it.

  He ignored her.

  “You’re going to see things tonight that will make you want to scream, but you must remain calm and quiet. Mortals who overreact die, and they die badly.”

  He lifted her off the ground one handed. Her legs went around his hips, placing the most intimate part of her against him. A scrap of lace and his trousers were all that separated them. Any other place and time, her body’s instinct to move against him would have won out, but not now. The shiver that traversed her spine was from his words, not his touch.

  Mortals who overreact die. Her arms tensed around his neck. I’m going to die here. She wanted to kill Tom for putting her in this situation.

  “It’s imperative they believe you’re human.” He spoke the words into her mouth and moved his groin in a sinuous circle. Such a subtle move, but one that sent tingling sensations through her entire body, despite his words. Heat blended with the fear-induced adrenaline pumping through her veins, making her tremble.

  “We don’t have much time, so I need to know you understand me.” Terror mingled with lust as his hard length caressed her hot center again. The heady combination left her lightheaded.

  “Astasiya.” He punctuated her name by nipping her lower lip, causing her to cry out. Whether in protest or because she liked the other things he was doing to her, she wasn’t sure. Reality was starting to blend with desire, making it difficult to discern right from wrong. What they were doing and discussing was too surreal. “They cannot find out what you are. Both of our lives depend on it.”

  His words registered through the haze of passion clouding her mind. She was in the middle of an Ichorian club. He didn’t need to explain why keeping her gift under control was important. He was clear from the beginning that his kind killed fledglings on sight. He never explained why, but now wasn’t the time to ask. She gave him a slight nod to show she understood.

  “One last thing.” He licked at the wound he left on her bottom lip. She hadn’t realized he bit her hard enough to bleed until she felt the sting of his tongue. Her tremble was involuntary and confusing. Why did that feel so good? “You can’t enter the Conclave unmarked.”

  “Conclave?” What the hell is that? It sounded ominous.

  “A meeting, of sorts, for Ichorians.” His tongue traced a pattern against her lips before dipping in to dance with hers. Her response was slow, a side effect of their surroundings. His mouth was patient and coaxing against hers, offering the perfect distraction from her heavy thoughts. She gave in when he rubbed against her again. It was impossible to refuse him.

  His mouth slid over her cheek and down to her neck. “It’s either this or we both die, and I’m particularly fond of living.” His breath was hot against her ear. Almost as hot as the thickness of his groin pressing into her most sensitive area. “Forgive me, darling.”

  11

  Broken Blood Laws

  Issac was going to torture and maim Thomas Fitzgerald. What the bloody hell was that man thinking sending Astasiya here? He threw her right into the middle of an Ichorian haven.

  Her delectable heartbeat escalated as his lips grazed her jugular. He had left off the lights on purpose. If she saw the instruments and blood splatter surrounding them, she would have had a fainting fit. The Arcadia was not his preferred location for this, but he was left with little choice. He wished to remain in the land of the living and this was the only way. He ran his tongue in a circle, loathing what he had to do. It was the bane of his cursed existence.

  He eased his teeth into her tender skin. Her comprehension of his actions wasn’t immediate; likely a result of shock coupled with lust. He took full advantage of the distraction, deepening his bite while holding her closer. Her fingers twined through his dark strands in an effort to pull him away, but the direction changed as the sensations of his bite hit her. His only regret was not having her permission first.

  Euphoria touched his tongue as her blood pumped faster. Centuries of experience was his only means of control. A younger Ichorian in his position would be lost to her responding passion. His kind was not meant to go long periods without blood, yet he often pushed himself to the limit of two or three weeks at a time. His last feed was on the longer end this time, something he intended to rectify tonight before his complication showed up.

  He hadn’t been with a lover in even longer. All the foreplay with this gorgeous woman left him with a sexual hunger that remained unsatisfied. Now that he had her where he wanted her, it was going to take all measures of restraint not to embrace his ba
ser instincts. His bite was euphoric, a natural defense mechanism to keep prey under an Ichorian’s control. If he wasn’t careful, it would overwhelm them both. He refused to ravish her without permission, and their first time would not be in this club.

  Her head fell back against the wall, eyes glazing over in confused bliss. Balancing her between his torso and the wall, he allowed his hand to wander away from her luscious derrière to her exposed thigh. He palmed her bare skin, enjoying the energy traversing between them, and slid his caress upwards. She gasped when his fingers brushed the lace near her hip. He slid his other hand up to palm her full breast. When she arched into his touch, he tweaked her nipple through the dress.

  “Issac.” His name on her lips undid something inside of him.

  If they went much further, his control would snap. He wasn’t anywhere near satiated yet, a consequence of taking as little from her as possible. A lesser man would take advantage of what her body so willingly offered, but he desired her mind too. She wasn’t ready to give him that yet. Her fingers fisted in his hair when he pulled back, her hormones overriding logic as she tried to force him to continue. He smiled against her neck despite their precarious position.

  He traced a line just above the lace of her thong, making sure to stay well above her warm center. If he touched her there, his resolve would dissolve and they would be very late.

  “If we survive the night, I want to see what these look like without the dress.” His mouth met hers in a kiss meant to savage her. It left no questions as to how he would take her if the time and place were right. Hard, passionate, and oh so thorough. They were both panting when he finished, her breath sweet against his lips.

  An image of a clock flashed in his mind, courtesy of Tristan. The man was standing outside the door, helping with sound interference. It was the second time he assisted him this evening, something he would have to thank him for later.

  He brushed a kiss against her nose, then her mouth. He lingered a little longer than necessary before moving his hands to her waist and helping her to the floor. She fixed her dress while he tended to his own attire. Adjusting his pants was painful.