by Moira Rogers
A gentle smile answered his. “I’ll try to be strong.”
The staircase outside rattled, the uneven footsteps giving the impression of someone taking the stairs two at a time, and the door popped open. Dylan bustled in, slightly out of breath, his red hair disheveled. “Am I late?”
“Not at all.” Sasha’s face lit at the sight of him. “We were just talking about the spell.”
Dylan’s grin was all for Sasha as he kicked the door shut behind him. “Oh good, I’m not too late for the biting.”
It was impossible not to poke at him a little. “Unless you want me to skip the middle man and just bite her. She looks tasty enough.”
“Behave,” she admonished.
“I’m sorry, did I give you two the impression I was prone to good behavior at some point?”
“No, but a girl can hope.”
“Let me know how the hoping works for you, sweetheart.”
Dylan groaned. “Christ, Adam, you’ve got some sort of uncanny valley of inappropriate humor. I don’t know if I want to laugh or stab you.”
The words made sense on their own, but Adam couldn’t figure out how in hell they fit together. “An uncanny what?”
“You know. The uncanny valley?” Dylan made a vague gesture. “When robots get so real they’re almost…” He trailed off, looking a little uncertain.
Adam stared at him.
Dylan cleared his throat. “Don’t you ever watch movies?”
“I don’t have a television, Dylan.”
“Yeah. Right.” The young werewolf considered that for a moment, then grinned. “Your jokes are only funny when nothing’s going wrong or everything’s going wrong. Hold off a few days before telling any more, huh?”
It made him smile in spite of himself. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
Sasha held up a book. “You two finished?”
Adam arched an eyebrow at Dylan, who had the grace to look mildly contrite as he answered. “Yeah. We’re finished.”
“Then we have a spell to prepare.”
Dylan nodded. “Should Adam just bite me? Or do we need to do something first?”
She scribbled something on a notepad and shook her head. “I need to know some things. Can I ask you a few questions, Adam?” She looked up, her eyes dark and guarded. “Tough questions.”
It took effort to keep his expression placid as he nodded. “If they’re necessary.”
“I wouldn’t ask if they weren’t.”
“Then go ahead.”
She laid down her pen. “The reason we need to do it this way, with you biting Dylan, is so I can truly feel what it’s like. But there are aspects of the experience that will be missing. I need to know what emotions you might experience if there’s nothing holding you back. If your plan is to take and take.”
Uneasiness stirred. “If I wanted to be like him.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “If we wanted to make him believe you’re just as greedy as he is and just as determined to make us all yours.”
It wasn’t something Adam had ever wanted to consider closely, but he supposed he didn’t have to. He’d felt the other vampire, had endured the slimy touch of grasping magic and hungry power with every bond he’d broken. “I have the feel of him in my head. Do you have any way to take that?”
Sasha nodded slowly. “If you’ll let me see that, I can work with it.”
Adam held out his hand silently, and Sasha laid her palm against his and wove their fingers together. Energy thrummed, charging the room until it felt like the moments before an electrical storm, dry but somehow heavy. Oppressive.
Then magic flared in an almost tangible wave, and Sasha sucked in a sharp breath as the air around him tightened.
The sensation of having someone drift through his thoughts hadn’t gotten any less uncomfortable in the intervening decades. It was easy to remember how Joan had looked after the occasional accidental intrusion, her pale face tight with the disapproval she clung to as her only defense. He’d given her plenty to disapprove of in that time, maybe more than he should have, but she’d needed that fire and confidence to fight.
It might have been another lifetime, but he hadn’t forgotten how to order his mind and push only the thoughts he wanted to share to the forefront. He delivered the memory of the rival vampire, his hatred and bloodlust and all the greedy entitlement that festered until nausea roiled inside Adam.
He gave the witch what she needed with most of his attention, but the rest he focused on keeping one thing safe. The memories of Cindy he bundled up tight, layering them in every protective trick he knew. Sasha might be discreet, but Adam couldn’t suppress an odd sort of jealousy at the idea of anyone seeing Cindy the way he had. Absurd, when she’d clearly enjoyed her share of lovers, but there was something powerful about remembering her blond hair spread over the pillow in a tousled cloud while she stared up at him and smiled…
No, those memories he held safe. Tight. They warmed him from the inside as Sasha explored his more readily accessible memories. Then she pulled away, though it took another minute for the magic in the room to settle.
Sasha’s usually gentle eyes blazed, and she breathed heavily. “I think I have what I need.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “So…time for the biting?”
She reached for him and kissed his mouth lightly. It would have looked like a casual caress, if not for the rise of magic that accompanied it. “Ready, darling?”
“Always.” Dylan’s voice had dropped a little, taken on a husky quality Adam felt better not thinking too closely about. The two of them exuded self-satisfied infatuation with a steadiness that might make it love. Puppy love, granted, but love just the same.
He hated being a little jealous, and it made him curt. “Please tell me I don’t have to feed while you two are necking.”
“Don’t be rude.” Sasha looked flustered, and almost glared at him as she pulled away and grasped Dylan’s hand.
Guilt stirred, and he hated that too, especially when Dylan shot him a coolly disapproving look that shouldn’t have carried much punch. Of course, he shouldn’t have liked the damn kid so much either.
Too late for should-haves. Adam held out his hand. “Your arm is easy enough. I don’t need much.”
Dylan extended his arm in silence, his fingers still curled around Sasha’s. Adam shifted closer and fought another cascade of memories, these painted with remembered fear and frustration. He’d fed from Seamus like this once, a moment of desperation when power had been the only thing that could save the people in his care.
Seamus had been willing, but his wolf had struggled. Had fought the rush of magic until straight-laced, prissy little Joan had knelt in front of Seamus and distracted him with the clumsy kiss that had started their eighty-year relationship.
Eight fucking decades, and he was back where he’d started. Sasha stared up at Dylan like no one else existed, and Adam waited for the loneliness that had gripped him when he’d watched Joan do the same thing.
He waited…and it didn’t come.
Dylan’s fingers curled into a fist, and he turned to slant an expectant look at Adam. “Am I doing something wrong, or do I look really unappetizing?”
No loneliness, just exasperation laced with an odd affection. “Just thinking. I know that fad went out before you were born, but it’s good for the soul.”
“Huh.” Dylan turned back to Sasha, a tiny smile playing around his lips. “Guess vampires have souls.”
“Quit teasing him. He’s doing his best.” Sasha held tight to Dylan’s hand but took a small step back. “It’s time. I need to cast the spell so Recco and his vampire will think the refugees are still here. That they can come, stomp us into the ground and get them back.”
“It’s time,” Adam agreed. He took a deep breath and pushed everything from his mind. Joan and Seamus were easy—memories of them were like ghosts fading a little more with each passing year. Dylan and Sasha were harder, but it was Cindy wh
o haunted his thoughts as he closed his eyes and gathered the power slumbering inside.
He would do this because he had to, because he owed Gavin and liked Sasha and Dylan and believed in the dream of this place. He’d do it for them, and wouldn’t wonder how much of his determination and stubborn will had solidified into the need for action when Cindy had turned those big, tired eyes on him and smiled through her nerves and fear.
It was a comfortable sort of denial, and he clung to it as he lowered his mouth to Dylan’s arm. Better for them all if he was simply doing a good deed. Maybe no one would ever find out just how far he might go to earn one of Cindy’s smiles.
Chapter Seven
By the time dusk fell and shadows lengthened in the streets, the town had emptied. Cindy drew her jacket more tightly around her as she walked back to her house alone.
She passed the deserted bar on her way. She didn’t have to be told where everyone was. They faced certain attack in the next few days, and were bound to be outnumbered when that attack came. Keith and Abby would be holed up at their house, Dylan and Sasha at the apartment she’d claimed above the bar. The others would be home, as well, completely absorbed in spending what could be their last few hours with their loved ones.
It reminded Cindy that she didn’t have any left.
Her route brought her to her back door, the one she used most often. Only strangers come through the front door, Cynthia. Her mother’s words. Her mother, who’d never given up hope that she’d find her little Cindy, her only daughter, even after she’d been missing for years.
She’d been lucky. She’d been able to see her mom again, to tell her she was all right and set her mind at ease. It had been difficult at first, trying to explain where she’d been and why she couldn’t go to the police or simply resume her old life. Finally, she’d told her mother just enough of the truth to make her understand that something fundamentally life-altering had happened to her, and there was no going back.
Only forward.
Cindy had lost her mother to cancer only a few years after escaping from her ordeal at the hands of the Dayton alphas, and one of the last things her mother had made her promise at the end of her very long fight was that she would continue to do what she had to. To survive.
To keep moving forward.
Light spilled out of the window above the sink, and Cindy could see Adam moving around in the kitchen. His propensity for drinking blood and advanced age aside, her mother would have loved him. He had exactly the combination of blunt honesty and humor she’d always appreciated. “And he’s easy on the eyes, Mom,” she whispered. “Nothing not to like.”
His dark hair glinted gold as he bent his head over his task. Then he froze, looked up through the window and smiled at her, wide and relaxed enough to show a hint of fang.
Cindy laughed helplessly and reached for the door. She didn’t have a mate or a husband, but she did have a fascinating vampire in her kitchen, and that suited her just fine.
The gentle warmth of the kitchen enveloped her as she peeled off her jacket in the entryway. “Smells good. What is it?”
“Whichever casserole dish was closest to the top. Barely figured out your oven though.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the stovetop. “It’s got as many buttons as Emily and Ethan’s, and that thing scares me half to death.”
“Unless the middle is still frozen, it looks like it worked out okay.” She laid her hand over his and relished the surge of desire that rose. “You didn’t have to do this. I would have.”
“Used to feeding myself.” His voice deepened, taking on a warm, deep timbre. “Been doing it a while now.”
“I meant…” She trailed off, because it didn’t matter. “I’m scared, Adam.”
Adam turned and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “I know, honey.”
“Do you? Because it’s not about how dangerous everything is, or what we’re going to face. I’m scared of me.”
“Then maybe I don’t know.” His other arm snaked around her waist and urged her close. “So tell me.”
It was hard to articulate because she barely understood it herself. “I’m not afraid to die. I mean, I wasn’t…until I realized that nobody knows me, not really.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve probably opened up to you these last few days more than anybody else, ever.”
“Hey, now.” Warm fingers brushed against her chin and tilted her head back. “You think that means anything? That people only know you if you tell them what to know?”
“Probably not. Feels that way though.” She closed her fingers around his forearms and held on, letting his strength flow into her. “Maybe your mind just plays tricks on you on a night like this.”
He stroked her cheek, rough fingertips gentle as they slid against her skin. “Maybe. Don’t fool yourself, Cindy. The people here know you, and they love you. Doesn’t take a genius to notice.”
“Yeah.” She turned her head and closed her eyes when her lips brushed his hand.
“Tell me,” he whispered, voice rough as sandpaper. His thumb brushed over her lips. “Tell me the things you want someone to know.”
In the end, there was only one thing that mattered. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”
“You can have me, sweetheart. I’m all yours.”
She had to kiss him, if only to quiet the yearning. Cindy drew him closer and rubbed her cheek against his before skating her lips across the corner of his mouth. “All mine.” The words sparked a different kind of need, the need to confirm his admission.
To mark him.
Her mouth trailed over his jaw and down to his neck. She growled and licked him gently, then bit him, hard.
His breath hissed out in a desperate curse. The hand at her back clenched tight, closing around her shirt and pressing her hard against the bulk of his body. “I like it when you bite.”
“Shh.” She kissed him, and her last defense broke apart inside her, the final wall she’d held between them. There was no telling how long it would last—a night or a month or a lifetime—but she had him now.
She had him, and not just his body. Even the wildest of his kisses had been carefully controlled, but now he showed no such restraint. His mouth slanted over hers, hard and so hungry he didn’t seem capable of holding back.
One fang pierced her lip, and the hint of blood forced a hard groan from him. Hot hands clutched at her ass and dragged her up his body until her toes barely touched the floor.
Cindy pulled her mouth from his with a ragged breath. “Take me here, no more waiting.”
Adam backed her up two steps and hoisted her onto the table, then froze. “Fuck. Condoms.”
She answered absently, her attention already on the buttons lining the front of the worn flannel shirt he wore. “The drawer closest to the entryway.”
He caught her hands and coaxed them away. “Take off your shirt. I’ll be right back.”
She watched him cross the room as she stripped the cotton over her head. “Most people come to the clinic during office hours, but sometimes…”
Adam turned back to her, an economy size box of condoms in his hand, and a smile played about his lips. “You should have told me you had high expectations. Flatter my enormous ego.”
A laugh bubbled up. “You’re beautiful, and your ego doesn’t need my help.”
“You sure?” He tossed the box on the table and stopped in front of her, his large hands falling to her knees. “Because I’m fighting quite the battle here. Part of me wants to take you upstairs and love you right, slow and patient. The rest of me…”
The heat sparking in his eyes stole her breath, and Cindy cradled his face between her hands. “Why can’t we do both?”
“Cindy, I was born in the nineteenth century. I should be too damn old to do both.” Gentle pressure eased her legs apart as he wedged his hips between her thighs. “You make me forget I’m old and broken.”
Because he wasn’t. Damaged like she was, maybe, but not broken. “
I think you’re perfect…for me.”
“Good.” His fingers curled in her hair and urged her head back. Adam brushed a hot kiss to the spot where her pulse throbbed just under the skin, then teased it with his tongue. “You wolves and your marks. I’m not going to bite you. Not yet. Not until the second time.”
She clutched his shoulders and wiggled to the edge of the table, where her hips could press tight against his. “I like it when you bite too.”
“Soon.” His mouth moved lower, pausing at the hollow of her throat so his tongue could trace slow, wicked patterns. He kept at it, tormenting her with the barest press of teeth, never enough to give more than a hint before his tongue was there, ravenous as he explored the curve of her breast.
What he seemed to want more than anything was her pleasure. His lips grazed her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, followed by the wet rasp of his tongue. Cindy hissed in a breath and arched to his mouth, determined to give him what he desired.
His fingers fumbled with her bra strap and a groan left him, as he lifted his head and snapped it without warning. Glazed, eager eyes found hers as he stripped the fabric away. “I’m impatient tonight.”
The mental image of the two of them entwined on her bed, naked and wild with hunger, drove a moan from her throat. “I approve.”
“I hope so.” He returned his mouth to her breast, encasing her nipple before his tongue flicked out.
A new wave of dizzy pleasure washed through her as he unbuttoned her jeans. She lifted her hips and helped him push the denim down her legs.
Adam raised his head and claimed her lips with a hoarse moan, and his hands returned to her body. He stroked and caressed, explored with fingers that grew clumsy every time she gasped or moaned. Every time she tensed and jerked into his touch.
Cindy braced her hands on the table behind her as she kicked off her shoes and pants. “Your clothes.”
He shed his shirt and reached for his belt, hands shaking. “Tell me you want this like I do. Fast, on the damn table, because I swear to Christ, Cindy, I’ll take you right here.”
