Burn: A shifter and vampire rock star romance (Underground Encounters Book 4)

by Lisa Carlisle

“You don’t have anything I’d need.”

  I arched my brows. “Oh, so you don’t want blood?”

  Her eyes widened, and her expression turned ravenous.

  “No, I’m not going to let you bite me,” I clarified before she eyed me like humans eyed a juicy steak. “I have some pouches of blood to keep you going. I don’t know when the last time was you ate—or drank—or whatever you vampires call sucking blood. And I didn’t want you to get so hungry that you’d look at me as your next meal—like you’re doing now.”

  She raised her chin and stared at me with cold eyes. “I need the sustenance after all you’ve done to me. Drugged me, tied me up with silver. Anything else I should know about while I was out?” she asked with raised eyebrows. “Did you violate me in my sleep like some fuckin’ weirdo?”

  “Damn it, no! In fact, I soothed you while you were having a nightmare.”

  Bloody hell! I swore I’d never tell her that. I don’t want her to see a softer side of me. She’ll use it to try to manipulate me.

  The disgust in her expression vanished. “You did?”

  Damn it, damn it, damn it. “No,” I lied. “I’ll get you a pouch of blood.” I left the room, kicking myself for letting her rile me up.

  Don’t let her get to you. You’re dropping her with Stefano tonight. She’ll be out of your life forever. And you can rest knowing you helped clear a vampire from the world—a bloodsucker who would prey on whatever they could to get a meal. Destroy lives without blinking.

  Remember Muriel…

  A dark time flashed before me, when I was twelve and had discovered what a vampire had done. I pictured the blood trail spattered on the fallen leaves.

  With a vicious grab of a disgusting pouch of blood from an ice-filled cooler, I shoved that memory away. I slammed the cover closed as if shutting away those thoughts.

  Tonight, that bloody cooler would be out of my life, too, and with it, all signs of having had a vampire here. No way would I store those bloody things in my refrigerator.

  Bloody, literally.

  With a smirk, I breathed easier. Good, I sounded like myself again. Cool and detached, the way I had to be to do my job well.

  The instructions from the underground blood bank where I’d purchased the packets gave me options for serving temperature. It could be consumed cold, at room temperature, or heated on the stove or in the microwave. Most preferred the blood warm. I could go back in there and ask her, but I hadn’t recovered from my revelation about taking care of her when she had the nightmare.

  She’d have to have it warm. I put it in the microwave for about thirty seconds and brought it back into my bedroom.

  “Try not to get it on the sheets,” I said.

  “How can I even drink that? I can’t sit up. And I don’t have the use of my hands to hold it.”

  I could untie one arm and let her sit up, but that might be too dangerous. How much vampire strength did she hide in that deceiving little body? I pictured her luring men with the temptation of sensual delights and then surprising them with an attack.

  Don’t trust her for a second. She’ll turn on you and bleed you dry.

  “I’ll have to feed you,” I said.

  “No!” She pouted. “Why can’t you let me drink it myself?”

  “You’re too dangerous.”

  With an earnest expression, she said, “I promise not to attack you.”

  I smirked at her coyness. “Cut the act. I’m not stupid.”

  I looked at the pouch, trying to figure out how to serve it. There were two marks, presumably for fangs. I went back into the kitchen and pierced one of the holes with a knife. Then I searched for a straw. I found one of those curvy straws that kids liked to drink from. I don’t even know where that came from. One of my nieces or nephews, perhaps?

  The visual of putting a silly straw into a pouch of blood made me laugh out loud. She was going to love this.

  When I returned, she raised a brow. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It’s all I have.”

  “I can’t drink blood from a straw like that.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “Of course not. It’s ridiculous. You’re only doing this to humiliate me.”

  “I would not do that to you.”

  “Why not? Doesn’t humiliating your victims give you a kick?”

  When I walked out of the room, she called, “Where are you going?”

  Returning, I said, “You seem to have this whole thing wrong. I did not do all this research to find an underground blood bank to humiliate you. I did it to help make you more comfortable. I only have this ridiculous straw, but I’m not familiar with the protocol here. If this is too humiliating for you,” I held up the pouch, “I’ll flush it down the toilet.”

  “No, don’t do that.” She moved to try to maneuver herself into a more upright position. “Can you please help me sit up?”

  The distasteful look on her face showed how painful it was for her to ask me for help.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I put the pouch down on my nightstand, careful that it wouldn’t tip over or spill. I approached her, wary of any quick moves. Her wrists were bound, but she still had other body parts to use as weapons. Legs and fangs came immediately to mind.

  While still two feet away from her, I assessed how I would do this. If I got within a couple of feet, she could kick me. When I bent down to adjust the ropes, she could bite me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to figure out how to do this without you attacking me.”

  “Why would I attack you? You’re trying to feed me.”

  I snorted. “I’ve seen how you look at me, plotting my death.”

  “Well, yes, but not now. I’ll be cooperative, I swear.”

  “I’m not stupid, Layla. Hold on a minute. I have to climb on top of you.”

  Reaching forward, I grabbed one leg. Her leg twitched, as if she had an urge to kick me, but she held back. Then I held the other leg down and climbed up to straddle her, putting pressure on her legs so she couldn’t kick me. I reached over to grab the pouch of blood on the dresser, watching her face for movement, especially signs of nasty fangs coming at me.

  I loosened the rope on one wrist as quickly as I could to give her more leverage. Then I repeated the action on the other hand.

  “You should be able to sit up now.”

  “You’re on top of me.”

  I lifted my ass off her, so she could scoot her hips up. As she moved up the bed, her pelvic area touched mine. That briefest contact shot a bolt of desire through me. If she felt anything, she didn’t let it show.

  In a sitting position, she said, “Okay. I’m ready.”

  I lowered myself, careful not to crush her. Yet, she was much stronger than she appeared.

  Now that we were at eye level and so close to each other, I scanned her face down to her soft, full lips.

  Taking a moment to regroup, I reached over to get the pouch and used the distraction to try to prevent my dick from stiffening. “Open your mouth.”

  I grew more aware of how our bodies touched, as if we were about to make love. Having her arms tied and her mouth open only added to the erotic nature of the moment. When I placed the straw in her mouth, and she sucked eagerly at the blood, her cheeks caving in, it almost did me in.

  How did the simple act of providing her nourishment turn me into a man with such little self-control?

  When I first knew I’d have to help feed her the blood, I thought I’d be disgusted by the act. But here I responded inappropriately. Also, I enjoyed the process of taking care of her. It drew on stronger urges, ones where I wanted to protect her.

  Yet I was the one bringing her to Stefano.

  Her eyes had been fixated on mine as she drank, but then she closed them as if seduced by the blood. I watched, mesmerized, as she sucked down the warm fluid.

  What did it feel like for her?

  For someone who hated vampires,
I was fascinated by the one in my bed.

  When the pouch was empty, she sucked a few times to capture the last drops of blood.

  “It’s done.” I pulled the pouch away from her lips and threw it into the wastebasket next to my bed.

  A single drop of blood lay on her lips, and I fought an urge to reach out and lick it. Kissing her at that moment, tasting the blood pass between our lips.

  You’re a sick bastard, Devon. Get a hold of yourself.

  She licked that last drop of blood from her lips. My cock, on the verge of breaking through my jeans, ached to get closer to her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  I leaned forward and kissed those soft, reddened lips. Where the hell did that come from? I tasted the saltiness of the blood. As her lips parted, my tongue grew bolder, exploring her delicious mouth still tasting of the warm coppery fluid.

  My senses were overwhelmed with the need for her, from the taste of her mouth to the floral scent of her. And the soft touch of her lips on mine drove me to a point near insanity.

  She moaned and relaxed into the kiss. While I kissed down over her neck, I ran my hands down the side of her body and over to one breast. Her nipple was already hard, inviting me to touch her more. I traveled to the other breast and felt that taut nipple.

  Damn these clothes. I wanted to touch her skin.

  I returned to kiss those gentle lips, wanting another taste of her. She pulled away, and I thought she would put the brakes on this mental idea.

  She didn’t. She then kissed my jawline, and her lips traveled to my ear. The heat of her mouth and caress of her tongue around my ear shot another bolt of excitement through me.

  “Untie me,” she whispered. “I want to touch you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

  She made a sound of protest.

  A piercing sensation rammed into my neck. She’d plunged her fangs into me! I pulled away, the excitement that coursed through my body replaced by adrenaline.

  “You fucking bit me!” I put my hand on my neck and felt the warm liquid. Pulling my hand away, I stared at my fingers covered with my blood.

  “You fucking kidnapped me!”

  As I backed away from her, I no longer saw her as the woman I desired just moments ago. With my blood dripping off her fangs and her eyes glowing red, I saw her for what she was.

  A goddamn, bloodthirsty vampire who’d played me

  My fingernails changed to claws, and my teeth sharpened as I instinctively responded to her attack.

  Layla

  Devon changed from man to beast in front of my eyes. Claws extended from his fingers and tawny fur sprouted over his hands.

  “I can’t believe you bit me.” Devon touched his fingers to the wounds in his neck and looked at the blood. “What is wrong with you? I took care of you.” His teeth elongated into sharp points.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I shouted. “What’s wrong with you? Are you shifting on me?”

  “I can shift anytime I like. And when someone, no something, attacks me, it tends to happen instinctually.”

  He left the room and came back a minute later with a facecloth pressed to his neck.

  “Do you think a couple of minutes of courtesy makes up for what you’ve done? You kidnapped me, tied me up, drugged me, took me overseas, and will take me to someone who will murder me without blinking an eye!”

  The grim look on his face answered for him. His claws retracted back into his hands and became human fingernails once again. The fur disappeared back into his skin, and his long teeth retracted.

  “Besides,” I added and raised my chin, “I was still hungry. And you smelled like a delicious meal.”

  His eyes widened, reflecting his horror at being thought of as food. Good, I wanted to hurt him after all he’d done to me. It gave me some satisfaction in my humiliating state.

  He fixed a piercing gaze on me. “It didn’t seem as if you thought of me as a meal a little while ago when my tongue was down your throat.”

  “That was to disarm you.” I rolled my eyes and added, “Obviously.” Although I tried to remain aloof, I found it hard to keep my emotions even. “I would never sleep with you, Devon. Not after what you’ve done to me. I prefer men to be men. Not animals.”

  His eyes pulsed with anger, which vanished when he smirked. “And I like my women alive, not dead. Especially in bed.”

  My breathing escalated. “Your body didn’t seem to be giving that message not too long ago when you were all over me like a—a—goddamn animal!”

  “What can I say?” he said coolly. “I’m a male and I was distracted by a woman in my bed.” He clenched his fists. “It took me a moment to remember she’s not a woman at all, but a walking, bloodsucking corpse. It took your nasty fangs biting into my neck to remind me.”

  I reached out to grab something to throw at him, but was stopped by the ropes on my wrists. I kicked out at him instead, but it was futile since he stood well out of range. “I fucking hate you!”

  “I’m not exactly your biggest fan right now either, vamp.”

  “Oh, piss off and get the hell away from me!”

  “Gladly. I’ll be back when it’s time to take you to Stefano and get you out of my life forever.”

  He took giant strides out of his bedroom, but stopped to look back at me. “The thing about shifters is we’re also animals in bed.” He flashed a grin and then closed the door behind him.

  Damn him for getting the last word. And damn him for getting into my head. Despite my frustration, an unwelcome vision of him naked and moving on top of me like an untamed beast came into my head.

  I fumed, banging my fists on his bed and holding in a scream. No way I’d give him the satisfaction of knowing he got to me like that. This might be my last night alive—or undead—and I didn’t want to waste it thinking about Devon.

  No, I couldn’t just sit here and have a tantrum. I had to focus on how to get out of this situation. I tried to wiggle my way out of the rope, although I knew it was useless to try to untie the knots.

  What else could I do? I looked around the room for a weapon, something I could reach out with my hands or feet to grab.

  Bugger. Nothing. Devon must have anticipated I would do this because the room was pretty barren of items, especially something that could be used as a weapon.

  I hated that man.

  No, not a man. An animal. More like a hybrid.

  Funny, when he kissed me, he seemed all man.

  Shut up, psyche. Don’t think about that now. It was merely a ruse.

  Yet, it had felt good.

  Don’t think of how his lips felt on yours, how his tongue exploring your mouth in such an agonizingly sensual way. Don’t think of how your body responded to the touch of his hands as they ran over your body. Or, as they cupped your breasts, making your nipples ache for more, desperate for his mouth, too. And don’t think of how his erection pressed against you as he straddled you and fed you blood. That erotic blend of blood and sex drove you dizzy with lust for both.

  As I’d kissed his jawline, his ears, and his neck, his primal moan had sent tremors of heat through me. And his blood, oh what a sinful pleasure. The forbidden allure of his blood and sex left me so blind with desire that I was on the verge of begging. Screw pride and what was right or wrong. Fuck, I wanted him.

  No. I wanted to fuckin’ kill him and escape.

  My mind and body sent so many mixed signals. My body yearned for more of him, while my mind thought of survival. I could bite him right now. Rip his neck out and run away.

  No, that wouldn’t work because I was still tied to a bed with no apparent way to get out of this situation. If I killed him, the one person who could untie me would wind up a stinky rotting corpse on the floor while I waited and hungered for blood as the days went by.

  And Stefano would probably be the one to come after me next. His first stop would likely be to look for the bounty hunter he hired to catch me.

  If
I killed Devon, I’d have to stare at his corpse. What a shame. He could provide such pleasure. He’d already set me on fire. If I hadn’t bitten him, where would we be now? Naked. He’d probably be inside me.

  I settled back down on his bed and let the cotton of the pillowcase cool my skin, which was blazing with both my anger and passion. The sheets smelled like Devon. That masculine scent where I could catch the faint trace of an animal, although not strong enough so I could detect what type.

  When he slept here, did he wear pajamas? Or did he sleep in the nude? That muscular body sliding over these sheets.

  We could have been sliding on these sheets together right now. I closed my eyes, picturing our kiss had it gone differently if he hadn’t tied me up and instead we’d met in a very different scenario. Then our kiss would have been the start of a promising night rather than the first and last one before we said goodbye.

  I’d never been with a shifter before. Rewind—I’d never met a shifter before. The thought of a man who could change into an animal sent another thrill of excitement through me. Remembering how he said he’d be an animal in bed didn’t help quell the fantasy.

  What kind of animal did he turn into? I pictured a wolf. That was the most likely, wasn’t it—werewolves. But I’d heard of other types of shifters: bears, mountain lions, tigers. What if he was completely out there and could transform into some kind of sea serpent?

  My fantasy returned to Devon as a pure, hot-blooded human male. One with passion in his eyes and a softness to his touch the way I’d experienced with him tonight. Had our kiss progressed, Devon would have taken his time undressing me, kissing my skin as he tortured me with his slow seduction. I would have to be patient to savor the moment while inside I screamed more, more, more.

  My patience would be awarded when he finally entered me. We would move as one as we relished how our bodies fit. His cock inside me, filling me almost to the brink of pain. But my body would adjust to his girth, wrapping around him and rising with him as I brought him to the point of ecstasy. We would climb together—so close—to that peak we both sought…

  No, I won’t fantasize about him! He’s my captor, not my lover. It was just the sensual aspect of tasting his blood that confused me. It was a damn aphrodisiac. And that kiss hadn’t helped matters.