by Nikki Sex
I wonder who wins in a battle between a Jugulo and the Beast Lord? I hope to never find out.
Stafford is too important to me. I’d never allow him to take such risks.
If for some reason I can’t psychically contact Stafford, my only choices are to either capture or kill the vampire myself.
Just as my mind is deeply focused, envisioning a way to achieve either of these insurmountable options, I’m drawn by an electric glow.
I peer up past the Jugulo’s thick black lashes to see he has no whites in his eyes! No iris—nothing. My God, the vibrant color is wondrous!
The vampire’s gaze is pure blue flame as he bends forward toward me. Too fast to see him moving—he strikes.
The vampire sinks his fangs deep into my neck.
Chapter 65. OMFG
They say when rape is inevitable, try to lay back and enjoy it. Of course, to “enjoy it” is practically impossible. If I resist, could I stop him?
Hell, no. Not even an option.
Blood slaves, men and women who’ve become hooked, speak of the incredible orgasms vampires cause when they feed. A vampire’s bite combined with the power from their gaze is what bespells victims.
It’s a magic thing. Exactly like someone having sex with me, the bite from a vampire soon becomes addictive.
A vampire can make his or her bite feel good—or they can choose to let it hurt.
This bite doesn’t hurt.
Holy fuck. It feels incredible!
As the vampire strikes I feel a sting of discomfort, but mostly I’m surprised. The man is so damn fast I don’t expect it. Heat at my neck, fangs at my throat, and a flash of pain to remind me that long-lived as I am, even I can die.
Shock, dread, fear—
—then lust—aching and intense—overwhelms me.
Try to enjoy it? I don’t have to try.
It’s as though I’ve been heavily petting and on the brink of orgasm for eight hours straight without a single climax. My entire body contracts, clenching tight. His power sizzles through me—I may burst into flames with the heat of it.
So much power!
All that foreplay, all that excitement, energy, magic, and power, coils together—increasing to ridiculous proportions—
His lips press tight against my neck. The vampire takes his first deep pull of my blood. I feel his throat work as he sucks then swallows…drinking me down.
I feel the pull and tug of it much lower, in the most feminine part of me.
Oh. My. Fucking. God. Is he sucking my neck or my throbbing clit?
Abruptly, all the tension within me releases, annihilating me with an intense, all-encompassing orgasm.
The pleasure! Oh, the pleasure!
Throat slitter covers my mouth with a firm hand to prevent my wild shrieks from alerting everyone on this floor of what’s taking place. From the noise I’m making, the entire building is at risk.
My pulsing convulsions are so forceful I can barely take a breath. Euphoric sensation spreads outward from my inner core, to my thighs, my calf muscles, and my tightly curled toes. It reaches higher, flushing my skin, caressing my aching breasts, and taut nipples.
The vampire’s sizzling bite is indescribable. My neck is already an erotically sensitive area. A warm mouth kissing and nuzzling my throat is my “fuck-me-please!” on-switch.
The room disappears.
I become color, sound, and sensation.
I taste the vampire’s hunger, while the sensation of him feeding at my neck is sublime. With each suck of my blood, my sex weeps and clenches, my clitoris throbs.
I convulse and climax in ecstasy with his every swallow.
Again, again, and again.
I burn, I buck, I writhe. He takes only five pulls from café-Jan-orgasmic before he’s had enough. The waves of magic I feel are so concentrated and exquisite, my whole body hums with erotic sensation.
Otherworldly power sizzles and crackles in the air around me. Electricity dances along my skin, raising my every hair from head to toe.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was in a thunder cloud during a violent electrical storm.
My heart is with Stafford, but my body, my demon (the traitor), and this orgasm is with him. Utterly powerless in the face of such rapture, in a fog of white and blue lust, I’m consumed by magic and power.
I gasp for air, while my heart drums in my ears like thunder. As though I’ve transcended to another plane, I exist in a blind, pulsing pleasure so profound, it can only be experienced by angels or demons.
If he drinks any more, I’m pretty sure I’ll expire.
A werewolf has earthy, animal magic. It’s wholesome. Natural. The taste can vary, but generally it’s spicy, woody or pine. It smells of earthy growing things such as herbs or apples.
Werewolf magic reminds me of the warmth of sunbeams, and my love of the Beast Lord.
Vampire magic is totally different. An intense, roiling tempest—it’s a fierce flavor I’ve never experienced. I find it strangely familiar, though. As if I’ve tasted it previously, yet I know I haven’t.
Vampire magic reminds me of electrical storms, and this bossy, hot-blooded assassin, with his battalion of maimed and disfigured ghosts.
As vampires are considered to be walking corpses, with him I’d expected Arctic cold—but his power is not cool. Vampire magic is all air and red-hot flame—a blast of lightning directly to my soul. The taste of ozone, and cobalt blue heat rolls over my tongue.
Mmm. I lick my lips, humming with sensation.
The Greek Jugulo, Leonidas Sparagis, holds me against the wall. If he didn’t, I’d collapse to the floor. Half-conscious, drugged with pleasure, I ride on waves of bliss.
Blinding magic flares as my demon feeds on the equivalent of high-octane paranormal. Our power grows, swells and spirals.
It’s too much! I can’t consume it!
I never ran into this problem while feeding on humans.
I quickly reach for Stafford’s bond in order to thrust this overload of magical power to him, but I can’t find it.
Where has our connection gone?
With psychic vision, I look toward Abruzzo, still nodding and benignly smiling at nothing in the corner of the room. I study the chains of compulsion that bind him to the vampire’s magic. They’re composed of white lightning, heat, and blue fire.
This fascinates me, or at least it fascinates my demon.
Vampire magic and demonic magic are similar. No wonder I felt a sense of déjà vu. My demon’s energy has the same flavor. Are demons and vampires related?
Like turning a key and opening a lock, I suddenly know exactly how to forge that magical link of persuasion.
If I can make it, I can also unmake it.
I would, but decide not to interfere with Abruzzo’s current compulsion. Too dangerous. Throat slitter wouldn’t like it. I smile, envisioning how pissed off the assassin would be if I released my colleague from his spell.
The demanding control freak takes things far too personally.
Frantic with power overload, desperate to release it, I fix on the mental image of my boss.
The instant I think of him—I’m abruptly there.
For a long instant, I travel inside Mr. Macleod. I view his hardened coronary arteries blocked with cholesterol, his heart pumping blood with life-giving oxygen and nutrients to all the tissues of his body.
It’s so very old, this well-used pump of his.
When I’m in a euphoric state, I sometimes do things without considering the consequences. It’s a flaw I’ve never needed to address before, due to the lower power wattage of the humans I usually feed upon.
Irresponsibly, I channel the magical overflow to heal Jonathan MacLeod’s heart.
Why not? I like my boss.
Calm now, calm and sated, I drift. What would it have been like to have the vampire feed on me during sexual release? To feel him deep inside me as I climax, and have his delicious mind-blowing fangs enter me at exac
tly the same time? To feel his power spill into me as he spills his seed?
A violent aftershock surges through me, making my whole body shudder with pleasure.
OMFG, I’m a fang bunny!
How embarrassing. Yet I can’t take all the blame. My demon adores blood and death. Fangs at my throat—five deep pulls, each one draining my life essence? Ha! What else would be more guaranteed to float his boat?
For me, each suck felt intensely exquisite. This vampire is so freaking powerful, manly, and beautiful. He’s hot sex personified—vampirified? Whatever.
Lust and gluttony, two deadly sins. I need to focus on the virtues of prudence and restraint.
See how easy it is to run into trouble when you have a demon? Pleasure to excess is the groove my mind travels in naturally, but I don’t want this scary Jugulo. I want Stafford!
“Open your eyes,” a dark, sexy voice orders.
When I do, the world seems far too bright. It takes a moment to adjust, to remember to look through corporeal eyes.
The source of my earth-shattering orgasm has his gaze fixed on me. Head slightly tilted, the vampire impersonally studies my every reaction.
He’s not impressed.
Apparently, I’m back to being a gnat—not particularly interesting, yet possibly somewhat useful.
My breath is ragged, my torso hot and flushed. The after-effects of sensual pleasure leave my knees weak, my body trembling.
The vampire’s eyes are unblinking blue fire. “That was a reward for obedience,” he informs me with cool dispassion. “Displease me and I will hurt you, or kill you. Do you understand?”
I drown under his authoritative gaze “I understand,” I manage to choke out.
I find myself nodding stupidly and smiling. Mr. Handsome has a breathtaking face. He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever seen! My burning desire is to do exactly as the vampire commands.
I long to please him, to be worthy of him, to make him smile.
If he wanted me to, I’d gladly die for him.
Spellbound! Sweet Mother, I need to be on guard. This isn’t compulsion, it’s seduction. His magic makes me want to love him.
“You register as human, but you’re something more,” he observes rather clinically. “Your blood is rich and sweet. I’ve never tasted anything like it. What are you?”
Dangerous question, but no need to beat around the bush to avoid a direct lie.
“Human psychic?” I suggest.
He frowns, shakes his head. “I’ll find out.”
I sincerely hope not.
Long, lean, and powerfully masculine, he focuses every ounce of his irresistible magnetism on me. Fortunately, while I can’t fully prepare myself against his magical allure, at least I can be on guard for it.
“Give me your phone,” he orders briskly.
I immediately hand it over.
“Now, go collect your things. Tell your employer and anyone else who needs to know that you are leaving and won’t be back. Don’t mention me. Don’t leave any notes. Don’t phone anyone. If you disobey me, you will be punished.”
“As you wish,” I reply, in my submissive, poor little gnat of a human voice.
Casual and unemotional as he seems, there’s heat with the thought of me defying him. When was the last time someone challenged this guy? In the supernatural world, there’s always someone higher up on the food chain.
On the other hand, with his extraordinary power, he could very well be at the top.
“I’ll give you ten minutes. Then I expect you in the lobby near the elevators on this floor.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod vigorously and automatically. I’ll have to watch that. His powerful glamor can make me comply before I realize what I’m doing.
Sexy, irritating hard-ass. This doesn’t give me much time.
I flee, first to the restroom where I can get a few moments alone. My inner demon hums and pulses, still blissed out from vampire energy. We’re both loaded with power so a metaphysical connection should be easy.
“Hey, buddy,” I tell him. “We have to be extra careful. I know you want him, but this guy’s whole reason for living is to find and kill demons, right? We have to stay calm. You can’t expose yourself. If he sees your red eyes, we’re both dead.”
My inner monster knows the drill. I simply wanted to remind him.
Resting against a wall for support, I send out a psychic tendril to contact the Beast Lord. I focus, straining outwards, and arrive at…an empty void. Why can’t I feel Stafford?
Surprised, I shut my eyes and concentrate but he’s just not there. I’m shit out of luck.
When I’m positive I can’t reach him, I try for Hope, then Owen. I even attempt to view Toby.
Nothing.
The people I care for have disappeared completely.
I’ve lost contact with all of them.
Jesus. Other than with my demon who’s still with me, the magic in the vampire’s bite has severed the bond of every metaphysical connection I had. Now what will I do?
Chapter 66. Demon Hunting
I blast past Brenda, my boss’s secretary, telling her I have an emergency and need to see Mr. MacLeod. As I’ve never “cried wolf” before, she lets me go through.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I blurt out quickly. “I’m in a real hurry, my aunt is very sick—” Halfway through my spiel I stop abruptly, completely dumbfounded.
What the hell have I done?
“Janney, my girl, what were you saying?”
Stunned, I stare at my boss. A normal human wouldn’t see it—the man positively glows with power. Jonathan MacLeod is nearing eighty years old. Last time I saw him I could count those years from the wrinkles in his skin.
His wrinkles have marginally lessened. The change is subtle. He’s fitter, healthier and stronger.
To top it off, he’s now a creature of magic.
“Sir, how are you?”
“Marvelous! Just marvelous!” He stands up, comes around his desk. “You know how Lorna has er…embraced the health food industry?”
I nod.
This is Mr. MacLeod’s way of saying he’s afraid his sensible wife is losing her mind as she’s turned to clairvoyance, tarot cards, meditation, superfoods and vitamin supplements. My boss indulges her, but he’s not a believer.
“Recently Lorna bought this healing tea, she’s been making me drink it. You wouldn’t believe the difference it’s made. I feel ten years younger!” He takes both of my hands in his, shakes them happily.
“I’m happy for you,” I say blankly.
With his touch, I immediately taste Mr. MacLeod’s magic. Not the woodsy scent of wolf. Not a psychic feel. The glowing electric tingle humming through his body has the flavor of vampire and demon.
Oh, boy.
I pushed magic into Hope and Owen, but they were already infected by a werewolf, a naturally magical creature. My boss is—was—pure, unadulterated human. What are the consequences of giving him power? So far, only minutes out, he’s seemingly normal and unchanged, but what might he become?
Jonathan MacLeod is what he is.
I seriously can’t even think about this right now.
I have my own problems, like being dragged off to places unknown with a vampire assassin.
“How may I help you, Janney?” he asks, guiding me to sit next to him on the couch.
I launch into my swiftly prepared speech, giving no details if or when I’ll return. I tell him I appreciate everything he’s done for me, but I must catch the first plane out of Vancouver.
He stands up. “I won’t keep you. Family comes first. I do hope you’ll be able to come back to us. Your position will always be open. I’m not likely to fill it, am I?” He laughs.
I thank him profusely, squeeze his hand goodbye, and run off to pick up my things.
Danvers is in our office; Abruzzo hasn’t returned yet. I fervently hope he’s OK. Is the vampire drinking his blood? Will my poor colleague wake to discover he’s creamed hi
s pants?
I can’t do anything about it.
Rapidly, I retell my fabricated sick aunt tale to Danvers, throw my personal things in my bag, give him a quick hug and a goodbye peck on the cheek.
Self-conscious from this show of affection, he waves me off. “I’ll tell Abruzzo you’re sorry you missed him. Keep in touch. Look after yourself, alright?”
Danvers wheezes with every word. Him and his breathing difficulties. I wish I’d thought to use a little of the power I gave our boss on his lungs. I frown, wondering. Just what have I done to Jonathan MacLeod?
Then again, healing him, too, might not have been such a good plan.
“I’ll be back,” I say.
Maybe. I certainly hope I will, anyway.
Hurrying into the lobby, I arrive in a great rush, frightened to be late. Other than his preposterously large entourage of the restless dead, Leonidas Sparagis is the only one there.
I draw in a deep gasping breath the moment I see him. His magic, his raw masculinity, and his mind-boggling beauty are like a sucker punch to the chest every time.
Fucking vampire magic.
Tongue-tied. Thought blocked. I avert my eyes, aware as long as I look at him I’ll find it difficult to speak, much less think clearly.
Oh, yeah, this mesmerizing insta-lust effect he has on me is getting old.
The elevator pings, the doors slide open. My throat-throttling new boss purposefully strides inside. I obediently follow.
The instant the doors close, he surprises me by gripping my wrist and curling an arm around my waist. In a flash of blue and white, we dematerialize—
—into an empty void.
Chapter 67. Less than Zero
I can sense absolutely nothing. Soundless, skinless, timeless, boneless, I travel through the unfilled place between all things.
This was not what I expected. Not by a long shot.
What the fuck is the vampire doing now?
Most people, perhaps even most paranormals, wouldn’t feel, sense, or be able to comprehend this empty moment of nothingness. Thanks to my inner friend, I’ve already enjoyed an out-of-body experience or two.
