She heard Marcus shout her name, then stiffen as his cock pulsed his release deep inside her. He rested his head against hers, catching his breath before opening his eyes, branding her with his possessive gaze. A thrill of satisfaction slid down Tambra’s spine, her heart opening to him as the rightness of them clicked into place for her. Whatever happened, she knew that what they had just shared was right.
Rolling onto his side, he pulled her against him. She lay nestled close to him, her cheek resting against his wide chest. Whatever the coming hours brought, Tambra knew only that she loved Marcus and would do everything in her power to stay at his side, where she knew she belonged.
Chapter Eleven
Marcus drank in the sight of Tambra curled against him. He reached out a hand and twirled a silky lock of her pale hair around his fingers. Her eyes were closed, her dark lashes feathered lightly against her pale skin. Her delicate features were relaxed in sleep. She looked young and innocent. Her beauty filled Marcus with warmth and something else, a feeling he had never experienced in his long life.
For a vampire, finding a perfect counterpart was very rare. He had heard many tales from others of his kind since he had turned, but, as he had never met a vampire gifted with a Consort, he had no one who could advise him. What he did know, was that if the link he had just formed with Tambra was denied, it could very well mean his death.
But, as her heady blood flowed through his veins, he couldn’t dredge up one ounce of regret. He had tried to fight it, tried to stay away, but bone deep, he knew he had only been buying time against the inevitable. Now he was bound to her, unable to take sustenance from any but her. The idea of taking blood from anyone else was revolting.
He vowed to not let her know. He needed her to come to him, by her own choice or not at all. Her Rising would tell what could be between them. A hollow ache spread out from Marcus’s chest at the thought of losing her, his protective instincts surging through him at the thought of another man holding her warm, pliant body as he did.
He was so lost in his torment that he didn’t register the light stroke of fingertips across his furrowed brow. Not until hands turned his face and he was left drowning in deep blue eyes, did he realized Tambra was awake and had been watching him.
“What has you so upset, Marcus?”
His name on her lips sent a savage thrill through him and he closed his eyes, breathing through the intensity of his feelings. He felt her body shift on the bed. Her legs straddled his hips, her warm feminine core settling on his stomach. His blood pooled between his legs, his cock jerking to attention. It didn’t matter that he had found his release only a short while ago, he was hungry for her again. He would always be.
He opened his eyes and his breath caught at the sight she made. Her hair spilling over her face, her blue eyes as dark as a storm tossed sea. Her bare breasts brushed against his chest as she leaned over him.
He pushed her hair over her shoulder, his fingers tracing over the wound on her long, creamy neck. He had put that there, marked her with his teeth while losing himself within her tight folds. He got even harder thinking about it. He cupped the back of Tambra’s head, pulling her close enough to brush his lips against hers. Her breath hitched for a second before her tongue found his. He groaned at the taste of her.
“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” Marcus growled as he threw Tambra onto her back and covered her with his body.
“What a way to go,” she giggled, writhing suggestively against his body, making his already hard cock throb.
He couldn’t help but smile at her playful mood. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt so…content? Complete? Happy? He had nothing to compare this feeling to, everything was so new to him. Fear tightened in his gut at the thought of losing her. Never knowing her smile, or even the simple touch of her fingers against his skin again. He took a shaky breath, willing away the anguish brought on by that thought. He would not think of anything until the Rising. Then the decision would be made for him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tambra frowned up at him.
“I’m afraid I have made your life a bit more complicated,” Marcus said.
She snorted. “Yeah, like it wasn’t already complicated? Get real.”
She had a right to know what had just happened between them, just a little censored. He could do that much.
“What happened between us was very…special.”
A blush rose in her cheeks as she smiled up at him shyly.
He blew out a breath, closing his eyes against the temptation to sink into her and lose himself within her tight channel. He needed to explain things to her before this went any further, but it was so damned hard with her body stretched invitingly against him. Reluctantly, he rolled off of her, onto his side, propped his arm against the pillows, and looked down at her.
“There is a connection between us now. With the taking of your body and blood you have become my Consort. My other half.”
Her delicate brows pulled together in a frown of confusion.
“What do you mean ‘a connection’?”
“Now we share each other’s emotions, and can find one another no matter the distance.”
“Is that what you mean by being a Consort?”
“Not exactly. I have little information on this. It is a very rare occurrence. In fact, I have never in my life encountered any of our Breed that had a Consort,” Marcus told her with a small smile.
“And how old are you exactly?”
“I was born in Thrace in the year 109 BC.”
Tambra shot up in bed with a surprised gasp. “That makes you…you’re…no way can you be that old!”
Marcus chuckled at her as she calculated in her head, her eyes widened as she looked up at him with awe.
“You’re two-thousand years old!”
“I’m afraid so,” he chuckled.
“And in all that time you have never come across a Consort?”
“Never once,” he affirmed. “Look, right now the connection between us is weak. I do not expect you to take my blood, you still can back out of this if you so desire. I will not force this on you in any way. And, with your Rising so close, I think it would be a very bad idea.”
“What happens if I take your blood? Do we even know for sure?”
He shook his head, sending one silky black lock of hair to fall across his forehead.
“Stories state that once a bond is made the powers of the vampire are stronger. The sun will not tire him or weaken him.”
Tambra was silent for a moment, taking in the information. Then she squared her shoulders. She looked up at Marcus with determination.
“Let’s do it.”
Marcus shook his head, ready to argue, but she placed a finger to his lips.
“Look, I know how close I am to Rising and I don’t give a rat’s ass what will happen. The only thing I know for sure is that I want this, Marcus, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.”
“We don’t know if the process with harm you, what it will do to you with your Rising so close, or even if we can successfully complete the binding. I have never heard of such a thing between Breeds.”
“You have never heard that it can’t be done either,” she challenged. “I want this, Marcus. With you. Nothing will change that.”
Marcus stared in wonder at the miracle before him and was humbled. She was far too good for him and he knew it. He should walk away. Leave her to a better fate than what he could offer, but he couldn’t find the strength to leave.
He loved her.
It crashed over him with the force of a freight train, leaving him breathless as the sudden realization stunned him. And because he loved her, he knew he couldn’t finish the binding. To do so would make him no better than Fox. He could not be so selfish to take her choice away from her. Every cell in his body screamed that she was his, wanted him to bind her tightly to him and never let go. The ache in his chest spread, making his whole body quake with pain as h
e pulled away from her. Already, he grieved the loss of her warmth, the feel of her skin on his naked flesh. Something must have shown on his face because her eyes narrowed with determination, and her delicate jaw tightened.
Oh Gods , no! was all that he had time to register as she lunged at him, impossibly quick for a human, but she wasn’t a human, not anymore. Her body slammed into his, knocking him back against the bed. Her blunt little teeth bit deeply into his shoulder before he could block her. White hot pain tore though his right shoulder and down his arm, he jerked away from her, but not before she managed to take a few drops of his blood into her body. He watched her with a mixture of horror and pleasure as her pink tongue darted out to lick his blood from her lips, a look of predatory satisfaction on her features.
“Why?” he choked out. “Why would you do this?”
“I knew you wouldn’t just let me,” she answered just before her eyes grew large in her face. His vision wavered, blackness swallowing everything but a sliver of light. Then it expanded to pin point clarity.
Like a moving picture, he watched as Tambra stood at a gravesite. The wind blew her black skirt tight to her legs. A single red rose was clutched in her white knuckled hands. Tears tracked down her cheeks, unchecked, as a casket was lowered into the ground. The scene shifted and Tambra was posing for a photograph, her arms wrapped around her father as they smiled into the camera. The image changed again to Tambra, an infant still in diapers, held in the arms of a tall dark haired man of Hispanic decent. He moved up the front steps of an old house, where a much younger image of her father waited in the doorway, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation on his broad, handsome face as he looked at the man holding Tambra.
The man’s accent was thick as he spoke to Tambra’s father.
“She knows nothing about her parents, and I want it to remain that way. Do we have an agreement?”
“Yes, of course I will tell her nothing,” her father agreed vehemently.
“Bueno, we have an understanding, and you, amigo, have a daughter. Remember, her diet is very precise. Do not let her eat meat of any kind.”
“Yes, yes I understand. No meat,” her father agreed eagerly.
“She is a very rare, precious child.”
Marcus had no time to speculate on the man’s words before he was thrown once again into another of Tambra’s memories. A disjointed a flash of claws, the sound of screams, a woman’s voice pleading not to take her baby. A woman who looked remarkably like Tambra, clutching her baby to her breast tightly. It was then he knew.
With utter clarity he knew Tambra was Lycan. A Pure Blood. And no matter how much he wished it, he had no place in her world.
****
At first Tambra saw only a blur of colors, hazy and indistinct, then slowly they coalesced, sharpening on a boy no more than eleven. His blue black hair was tousled, a smudge of dirt on his smooth cheek. His face was set with grim determination as he faced off with what looked very much like a Roman soldier.
She was seeing Marcus as a child. Her heart thudded in her chest. Even as a boy she could see the promise of the man he would become. He held a small child tightly in his arms, a girl no more than three. Two young boys, twins by the looks of them, stood aggressively on either side of Marcus. It was obvious to Tambra that these were his siblings.
The scene blurred. Colors spun, then solidified, until she found herself standing in the blood drenched sand of a Roman arena. The shouts of the crowd were deafening, flowers were being tossed to the feet of a gladiator, his bloody sword raised in victory. This was Marcus as she imagined him, the warrior, savage but tender.
Tambra felt herself ripped from the arena, thrown into another time, crying out in horror as her stomach roiled with nausea at the sight of Marcus’s battered body. He swung limply from manacles chained to the stone ceiling. His head hung down, face obscured by the blue-black fall of hair, wet with blood and sweat. He had been whipped so severely that bone showed sickly white in some areas of his back and torso. His chest rose slowly, the rattle of death clear in the silence of the cell.
The sound of keys turning in the lock drew her attention to the door as it swung open, allowing the most beautiful woman Tambra had ever seen to step through. Gold silk clung to her curves and swirled around her long, sandaled legs. Her toffee colored skin shone in the low light of the single candle she held up in one delicate hand. Long black hair swept away from a heart shaped face. Her almond eyes were black and fathomless as she gazed at Marcus.
Slowly he raised his head in her direction and Tambra gasped at the sight of his blind eyes and distorted face, swollen and discolored from so many beatings. The woman glided toward him as if she walked on air. Stopping a mere hand span away, she tilted her head up to study him.
“This life has treated you badly, Marcus Valerian of Thrace. I can give you release from this life and the beginning of a new one.”
“And what would you have of me, Nadia? I am of little use to you as I am. Give me death and end this now.”
Tambra’s heart twisted in her chest at the weak sound of Marcus’s voice.
“Foolish man! I give you a place by my side. You will rule the night with me.” Nadia’s voice hardened.
“How can a broken blind man rule? I have nothing to offer. I trusted you and you betrayed me with your honeyed words,” he spat, breathing labored with the effort.
“I needed you unfettered by this life of yours. The greatest Hero of Rome? Ha. The puppet of Rome. Did you really believe they would have let you go free? A Spartan?”
“My brothers, my sister, they must be freed. Everything I have done, everything I have endured is for them.” His voice swelled with the strength of his conviction.
“Then you are a fool. Do you really believe the Senate will release them with your death? Even now they prepare Elyssia for the slave market. Your brothers are fighting in the arena as we speak, they have promise as gladiators for Rome.”
“No!” Marcus rasped, struggling weakly against the chains that bound him. “I will see you dead, Nadia.”
“I offer you a chance for vengeance, Spartan. You can save your siblings, but only if you agree to what I offer.”
“I am to believe you?” Marcus sneered.
“You have the power to save your family. You only have to say the words.” Nadia’s voice turned steely. “Your time is short, decide now.”
Once again the image shifted. Tambra heard Marcus scream in despair. It chilled her to the depths of her soul. He sat on a white marble floor, holding the body of a small woman close to his chest. A bloodied dagger laid only inches from him. Tears ran down his grief ravaged face. The sight tore at Tambra’s heart as she watched, helpless to offer any consolation. Then the room tilted. Lights flashed wildly and she found herself huddled on the bed, her face wet with tears as she stared at Marcus’s horrified expression.
“What have you done?” Marcus’s voice shook.
“Oh, Marcus, I’m so sorry.” There was no pity in her voice, only empathy.
“What happened to your siblings?”
“They are gone. I was… unable to save them. I wasn’t there when it counted.”
She moved closer to him. His body stiffened as she placed her hands against his cheeks and turned his head to meet her eyes.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
His dark gaze held hers. His words came fast, forced out on a shuddering breath, clearly he had never shared any of these painful memories with anyone.
“Calais and Anton were killed in the arena, they never had a chance. I found Elyssia, she had been sold. Her master had a penchant for torture. The sick bastard had already raped and beat her to the point of death when I finally found out where she was. She thought I was dead, she had lost all hope. She stole a dagger, turned it on herself. I found her that way, with that sick fuck gloating about all he had done to her. I killed him slowly for the anguish and pain he had caused Elyssia, but it wasn’t nearly enough for the crimes he had
committed.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I went back to Nadia, the one who made me, that very night,” he whispered, brushing the tears from her face with a gentle finger.
“The black haired woman I saw in your cell?”
“Yes.” A dark scowl creased his forehead. “I removed her head for her many betrayals, left Rome, and never went back. After several centuries of wandering the world, the Tribunal found me in Spain, offered me a position as an Enforcer, and I have been carrying out the laws for the Breeds ever since.”
“I’m glad you took her head,” Tambra said savagely.
She leaned into him and kissed him. Soft, tender, and heartbreakingly sweet, she slowly explored him, reveling in the taste of him on her tongue, his dark, earthy scent surrounding her like a soft caress.
Tambra’s world narrowed down to only Marcus’s lips on hers and the soul shattering depth of his kiss. With him she felt more than safe, she was home. Whatever came next she knew she could face it with Marcus by her side. Her dark warrior. Here was a man of honor, who dedicated his life to serve and protect. A battered soul singing out a siren’s song she was compelled to answer. His kiss, like a promise of rain on the parched desert of her soul, filled her, completing her in a way that went beyond anything she had ever felt. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, needing to tell him the words demanding release.
Her lips parted on a quick intake of air that stuck in her throat. Her body convulsed as waves of agony seared her from inside. A scream ripped from her lips. She flailed on the bed, perspiration covering her body as her limbs contorted. Golden fur rippled across her skin one moment and was gone the next. Her body shuddered under the assault of the Rising, before succumbing to the darkness.
****
Marcus flew into his jeans, wrapped her in the comforter, and hurried down into the lab, bellowing all the way for his men to meet him there. Tambra’s Rising was happening more quickly than anticipated. He wondered if his blood had triggered the dormant genes.
Dark Passion Rising Page 9
