The bottle of water in his hand had never been opened and he decided it was probably just as well. He couldn't drink or eat anything the witch offered if he wanted to stay in control.
Her hand settled in the middle of his shoulder blades and he could feel her heat surge through his shirt. She had an excitable touch and he couldn't wait to be under it fully exposed. Just her hand on his back sent chills up and down his skin and immediately, he felt the bulge begin to rise a little further south and definitely below the belt.
Allowing her to think she was getting her way, he let her push him toward the front door but when he got there, he had something more creative in mind rather than just leaving.
"I have an idea that you're going to love.” He turned on her with a challenge.
"I doubt it. See, I don't love anything.” She looked down at Claude and then shrugged. “I can even take him or leave him."
Taking a hint, Claude hunched down and scooted away.
"So you expect me to believe that with all of the talents you've come into that you don't love having sex with mortal men?” He watched her cheeks blush and knew what he'd heard was true. The three men who had bedded her since she found her powers knew her intimately, and for that, they would have to die.
He would enjoy delivering them to death's basement. The jealousy tore at him with hot anger inspiring him to move forward with his offer.
"You know nothing about the men I've slept with, sweetie.” She raised her hand to pet his face and he caught her around the wrist.
"Allow me to take you to bed. If you like what I offer, you'll hear me out. If not, then I'll leave and determine you the winner of this little challenge.” He smirked knowing it wasn't something she would give so much as a second thought. She was far too smart for him.
A wicked chuckle slipped from her cute mouth as she informed him of his worst fears.
"Oh Armand. You've mistakenly assumed I'm a fool. I am sorry for that. I thought you would be much more creative than all the others who have tried to manipulate me for my powers. But no, not even a vampire can outsmart the talents or the mind that I've been given with my coming of age."
He watched her with approval he knew she could see. “Matilda, I need to talk to you before I leave and tell you things you need to know,” he stopped when he realized how close she was and felt the erection begin to distract him again. He couldn't even speak he was so friggin floored by her sexuality and outer beauty.
Her eyes danced with obvious misbehavior in mind. She moved in front of him pressing her center into the cock she knew was already waiting.
"Darling boy. You're like all the others who come to play with the witch. You want but you can't have. You need but you don't know how to stop the desire from getting the best of you. You have what I can use but I will throw you away as soon as I do. Besides, what on earth could you possibly need to tell me that I don't already know for myself?"
He observed her determination and knew he would have to just spit it out without further delay. The clock on the wall read that nearly three hours had passed and he wasn't any closer to winning her nod of approval. He wasn't getting anywhere and she wasn't going to let him. Held captive to the freedom that she thought only her young age and spunk could bring, she had no idea of what his words would grant her. No idea at all.
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Chapter Five
Matilda observed his internal battle.
Good. He deserves it. If he made a trip from Russia with thoughts of bedding a witch, one who would be waiting for his delicious bite, he had been misled by the foolish elders who thought they knew more than anyone else possibly could.
She pushed her body into him.
"Tell me Armand. Are you always so charming with the ladies? I mean, do you feel like you can charm them into doing things you want just by promising to fill them in with details of their life?"
He glared at her and snatched her closer. “I seize what I want Matilda. I've already told you I want you. I'm here to take you, one way or the other. I hope you'll decide to be mine on your own but if not, I will have you.” He bent down and breathed the words right into her mouth as slowly as possible. “I don't care if I have to make you mine by force. I might even enjoy it, but make no mistake about it,” he paused and leaned back so she could see his fangs peeking from the edges of his lips before hiding them from her once more, “I will take you with a forceful lust and I will feed on you for as long as I see fit.” He moved into her with his lower body, making sure she could feel all of him.
Matilda gasped when she saw the longer set of teeth sharpen upon his will for them to appear.
"Uh...” She couldn't find the correct words, so she started thinking about the spells she'd read earlier in the day. “Shake it loose, for the noose is drawing near, and it threatens to pull at you, until you love him dear."
But the spell seemed to have the opposite effect. Now she was kissing the bastard hard with everything she had in her. She liked it more than anything she could describe.
Oh no! Oh help me great aunts and women from my past! I've cast the wrong spell! I'm falling for this man fast!
Her mind screamed out but her body was molding to him with a fierce need to just fuck him, right then and right there, and never stop. She'd never wanted cock so badly before. She'd never wanted the man behind one so desperately and Matilda knew she had to fight him off with everything she had in her.
Pulling away, she could see his look of hunger. Raw, divine starvation lurked behind his eyes.
"Matilda—” He raised his hand to move a strand of fallen hair from her forehead and she slapped him away.
"Who are you? What do you really need from me?” She whispered the question so softly that he didn't think he'd understood her.
"I need you. I want you. I will have you, Matilda."
"You've said it enough already. Now, tell me the why. I'll listen, then I want you to go.” She bit out the words and led the way back to the area where they'd have their talk.
* * * *
Armand understood her frustration better than anyone, but after the heated kiss he wouldn't be leaving her alone in the cottage. He wasn't going to leave America without the woman he was destined to love. Their kiss had stirred something within him in a way that bedding wenches in Europe never had.
Matilda had a firm hold on his heartstrings and if she so much as pulled them in the right direction, he'd most likely be under her control. Still, he had to be careful of the power he was willing to give her. He had to use the head on his shoulders to think and not the one between his legs eager to take the lead.
They sat quietly on the sofa, each afraid to make the first move. He was uncomfortable. What man wouldn't be after their activities at the door? She wasn't speaking, probably furious that he hadn't left.
Her lips moved back and forth, pursed hard against the other one in a tight line. She huffed and puffed and looked around the room. Standing quickly, she looked down on him.
"Okay, if you're going to stay, I should at least offer you a cookie or something."
He smiled. “That won't be necessary Matilda. I'm still fully aware of the tricks you can play, so let's keep our mouths moving in conversation and other useful ways."
"Cute."
"I thought so."
"Yeah, I'm sure you did.” Her dark eyes were coal black just like her hair. She was beautiful beyond description, and even the hateful words she spoke came out with a twinge of class and eloquence.
"Well, then. I will begin."
"Yes, I guess you'd better. You're running out of time.” She rolled her head back toward the clock and he saw that he had about twenty hours left. It dawned on him that if the witch had been expecting him, she could've played with the clock and he could be out of time much sooner than later. He made a mental note to turn on the tube and figure out the exact time once they'd had their chat.
"Have you ever heard of Erzsebet Bathory?"
Ma
tilda nodded. “Yes, and if you knew anything about me, you'd know I'm a history buff so you wouldn't ask me such a ridiculous question.” She shifted in her seat. The name alone seemed to bother her.
Armand studied her growing discomfort. “Erzsebet Bathory had an interest in black magic. Did you know that?"
"Yes, I know a little about her,” Matilda sighed. “What does this have to do with me?"
"Erzsebet had three daughters and a son. She was known to practice black magic and many considered her more of a witch than a vampire because of the way she practiced witchcraft. She was known and labeled as The Blood Countess, and was very beautiful, which is one of the reasons she found four husbands with ease. Two of her husbands met ... unfortunate fates by her hand."
Matilda's eyes remained focused on his mouth.
He noted it. He wanted to stop his story and just press his mouth and his body into her with a force she had all but invited. The longer he was with her the more he was feeling inspired to completely ravage her.
Instead, he pressed on. “You are a descendant of The Blood Countess, and one that has the royal bloodlines of blended vampire blood. You are already a vampire, my love, and you are about to come into those powers as well, but you need me to help you manage them correctly."
Matilda's face reddened as the words left his lips and with heated rage, she let her words slice through the air.
"I'm not a damn vampire! Who do you think you are coming into my home with such accusations? Do you know what my family will do to you?” She drew her hand back as if she wanted to cast some kind of spell but her arm fell as soon as she raised it.
Armand smiled. “Matilda, most of your spells will never work on your own kind and that includes me. We are cut from the same—"
"Oh! Wonderful, so now you're going to tell me how you're somehow a Bathory bastard too?"
"Not at all.” Armand thought better of it before continuing with his harrowing tale, but decided he might as well ice the cake and seal their fate. Once she knew the truth, there would be no further doubt in the young woman's mind. Perhaps she could come to terms with it if she knew up front that Armand couldn't return to Russia without her.
The witch pulled her hair back and tied it with a stretchy band. Her striking facial features were prominent when her hair was back off her face. She was too pretty for words. Too beautiful for the council's plans, yet he was the chosen one to deliver them and then he would be required to follow them through with her. Looking at her in that moment, he knew he would enjoy the ride.
"Matilda, my heritage is one you may not be ready to learn about.” He wanted to tell her more and felt he should explain.
"You're dying to tell me, so do tell. I warn you, though, I'm not going to be inclined to leave my home for you and your native Russia regardless of the lies that fall from your lips."
Armand stood and went over to the window. Looking out, he knew the wheels of pre-determined destiny were already in motion. He could see it outside as the leaves on the ground began to spin out of control, swirling away from the house into the woods set only a hundred yards in the distance. He knew he wouldn't be taking her without force. She'd left him no other choice.
* * * *
His eyes had darkened when he turned back to face her. She noticed his pale white skin and the grey circles under his silver eyes. If she wasn't a witch, she might even fear him but for the life of her, she couldn't help but want him. Her own breathing was labored as she struggled for control.
Trying to fight the feelings from within, she cursed her own womanly existence.
He's a man Matilda. You're a woman. Big deal. It's not the first time an attractive man has walked into your house and it sure as hell won't be the last. I bet he tastes like—
Armand walked back toward her and cut off her perverse thoughts, but the desire still ran through her like a stream flowing out of control. Looking at him made her panties damp, but wanting him like she did made her heart flutter.
His grin lit up the room.
Damn was he hot. She moved her hand across the scoop of her low-cut shirt. He only smiled bigger. He had to know she wanted him. She knew it was written across her face.
Armand began to speak again of the heritage he believed belonged to Matilda.
"With all due respect, Matilda, Erzsebet Bathory was promiscuous and her children were born to a woman who was believed to be a vampire. In reality, Erzsebet was nothing more than a powerful witch."
"You say that as if a vampire's blood trumps a witch's pedigree. Back up, sweetie, and think again.” Her words were delivered in a flirty tone.
Who the hell did he think he was?
"Sweetie.” His masculine chuckle filled the room. “The vital fluids of a vampire do in fact trump any amount of juice running through your wicked little veins but that's beside the point."
Matilda squinted at him as her brows joined together. She let out an exasperated sigh.
He began to pace across the room as he told the tale he was certain Matilda didn't know and didn't want to hear.
"Erzsebet was born into one of the wealthiest families in Transylvania which of course, is one of the reasons that many automatically assumed she was a vampire in practice. In fact, she practiced the methods of witchcraft far more than that of a vampire. She was quite the evil woman, Matilda. So much so that after her death, no one in Hungary was permitted to speak her name for over a century for fear of the wrath of her ghost. Erzsebet was later dubbed as the Hungarian whore, and with documented facts to support that belief, the descendants of Erzsebet Bathory, are in fact, considered blended blood already suited for marriage to a true vampire. You are, Matilda, vampire royalty, and the reason you are to be mine is because I am a descendent of the one vampire Erzsebet could never have."
Matilda's face was hot. She could feel the sting with every word. She thought back to her history lessons in the community college and how her aunt had thrown a fit when she discovered the name “Erzsebet Bathory” on a class syllabus. Everything made sense to her now. It was because her aunt didn't want Matilda to know that she was, in fact, a vampire and a witch.
No! No! It can't be true. The pain that accompanied sudden truths and delayed honesty was more than she could stand to hear.
"Get out.” She spoke the two words with painful deliverance, in a hurtful tone that proved their time together, at least for the moment, was over.
Tears stung her eyes and the lids blinking over them couldn't stop them from flowing. Her heart fluttered in a disappointed beat because she knew without a doubt that Armand spoke nothing but the truth.
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Chapter Six
Armand didn't know why he'd left Matilda when she'd demanded it. Maybe he saw the pain rip through her and thought she needed the time alone. Perhaps he even felt sorry for her. Since Matilda held obvious contempt for vampires, he was sure the truth had dealt her a shocking blow. For years, the woman had believed she was something she, in fact, wasn't.
Armand had thought quickly on his feet when he spotted the witch's books on the countertop where she had several brews stewing on the stove, swiping a handbook from Matilda's countertop on his way out. With his excellent night vision, he settled up against a tree in the upper part of the woods to wait, watch, and read about the witch he would soon care for in a way he'd never felt compelled to care for any woman before.
Smiles couldn't be contained as he sat there alone in the forest. He closed his eyes and savored her sweet look of innocence. The one she had before she told him to get out. The one he saw as she tried to come to grips with the fact that she already had the blended blood of a vampire and a witch.
By now, she had also realized that the reason he needed her was because their children would need the blood she had in her veins. He wondered if she had also put together the facts of his own heritage. He turned the page of the book in front of him and began to read.
"The day will come when you will meet the m
an you are destined to be with for eternity. He will likely appear in a dream or could appear when you are in the throes of passion with another...” Armand laughed.
Since his first encounter with Matilda had been such a pre-meditated one, he imagined she had first had visions of him when she was in fact, in those very throes of passion with another.
Poor bastard.
He laughed as he thought of the way Matilda probably reacted when she realized that he was on his way for her. When she saw Armand's image appear.
He glanced down the hill and saw Matilda pass by nearly every window of her house; she walked through the house like she was in a hurry. Pacing back and forth before stopping and starting again. His heart skipped a beat or two faster.
Reading to himself, he continued.
"Once the Russians have a chosen one to send for you, he will appear sometime after midnight on Halloween morn. You can either wait for him to find you or lead him to you so you can remain in control of the situation, but he will find his blending partner. The witch cannot run or hide from him. The vampires have magical means of obtaining our cooperation, which we can neither dismiss nor fight. The only thing the witch can fight is the bonding, as the vampire will not want to take her by force. Still, some will if they must, but remember the blending of bloodlines must take place before midnight on Halloween. The bonding must be complete within twenty-four hours of the meeting."
Armand put the book down and closed his eyes. So Matilda had known more about him than he had initially thought. He should have figured as much when she appeared in the alley.
Ahh Matilda, he thought. So, you know we are running out of time here.
* * * *
Matilda scurried around the house. Where was her damn book? What the fuck had she done with it? The damn thing had been right there on the counter. She looked again.
"Calm down damnit!” She yelled out to herself, and then it hit her.
He has it. He must have taken it.
She went to the window and looked out. “I know you're out there. I can feel you."
Bewitching Bite [A Blending Bloodlines Tale] Page 3
