by Anya Bast
He pressed his big body down on hers, his hands braced on the mattress on either side of her torso. “Alejandro . . .” She could say no more. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as pleasure pulsed through her. Then he began to thrust and it exploded.
She gripped his upper arms as he slammed into her with long, hard strokes. Every one sent a lightning bolt of ecstasy through her and pushed her toward a second, shattering climax.
They came at the same time, their pleasure reaching a shared crescendo. The first time he’d made her come, it had rippled through her long and gently. This time it rolled over her like a freight train, leaving her wracked, spent, and hoarse from crying out.
He came down over her, kissing her mouth and throat, threading his fingers through her hair. “Daria.” He whispered her name over and over.
She buried her face in the curve where throat met shoulder. Closing her eyes, for a moment she wished he would never leave her body, not ever. Then as the aftermath of her climax faded, rationality flickered, and the thought faded away.
19
THE building sat in the far corner of the dome, set along charming cobblestone pathways lined with flowering fruit trees. It was small, unassuming, yet was a beautiful example of modern architecture. Here Sante had not gone retro. The pointed roof was all unbreakable glass, reflecting the light of the fake sun on this lovely fake afternoon. Likely, as all the buildings in the dome had, there were solar panels embedded in the glass. Outside the walls of the dome it could have been midnight for all Daria knew.
The bottom half of the circular structure was creamy white restao, a building material they frequently used in the Logos Territories to aid in relieving the excessive heat. Wide, long windows were placed at regular intervals around the building. To serve as a transition between the white restao walls and the glass ceiling was a wooden lattice overhang, from which cool grapevines twined and lush, vibrantly green potted ferns hung suspended.
Here, apparently, was Sante’s headquarters within the dome. Here would be where she and Alejandro would gain coveted membership in Sante’s inner sanctum.
Sante had sent a messenger to their room that morning telling them to forgo their work at the factory and to come here instead. It looked as if they would not be returning to their daily factory shifts ever again, a fact which made Daria a little disappointed since she’d never reached her goal of attaining entrance into the packing room. However, this opportunity might offer her other ways to snoop.
Hell, who knew? Maybe Sante would show all his cards to them immediately and they could wrap this gig up. Daria and Alejandro could take this place down, put Sante in jail, and she could get on with her immortal, bloodsucking life.
It had been four days since Sante had called Daria and Alejandro to his home. He’d waited such a long interval to contact them again she’d begun to worry their chance had somehow slipped through their fingers. Likely it was just that Sante was a busy man—people to kill, women to kidnap, slaves to traffic, that sort of thing.
Carlos stood at the entrance, smoking a long, thin Darpongese cigarette. The acrid smoke floated a long way on the normally pure air of the dome, fouling it.
As she and Alejandro approached, Carlos’s mouth twisted into a bitter not-smile. “For the record, I think it is too early for you to join us. In fact,” he continued, eyeing Alejandro from toe to head, “I don’t think some of us should have an in with Sante at all. It is a privilege and an honor to be accepted into this building. However, it is Sante who dictates membership, not I.”
“Well, thanks for letting your preferences be known,” snapped Daria. “You can be sure I made note of them.”
“Carlos, let them in,” called Sante from the interior of the structure.
Carlos gave them one last hostile look, then stepped aside to allow them passage.
They entered the cool, round room. The floor was of tan stone and covered with large area rugs. Potted plants stood at various locations, accenting plush, multicolored furniture with many throw pillows. Doorways led into other rooms at the back, and a large fountain burbled happily to itself along one wall. The wooden rafters above their head were home to a few vibrantly colored birds, which flitted here and there, the soft whirrr of their wings playing nicely with the sound of the water.
Daria wondered if it bothered the birds to see the sky above them through the glass ceiling and be forever unable to reach it. Maybe that amused Sante. It seemed like something that would.
The great man himself lounged on a bright blue and orange couch, gazing at them lazily as though he had no cares in the galaxy. He moved his hand. “Forgive Carlos. He has appointed himself my watchdog and he can be rabid in his protection of me.”
Carlos, who had entered after them, didn’t argue with this assessment. He only took a place at the back of the room and settled into a gimlet stare at Alejandro. He wore a white shirt, open at the collar, and had his hand tucked into the pocket of his beige slacks.
Daria wondered what Carlos had hidden in that pocket, a knife? Carlos seemed the knife type. A thug. Although he was such an old Chosen and had amassed so much power over the years, he could probably kill them where they stood with his bare hands. Still, Daria bet anything he preferred to use a knife—more blood that way.
“We understand,” answered Alejandro diplomatically. Even though she could feel the tension in his body, he sounded relaxed. His gaze rested on the woman sitting on a nearby chair, the only other female besides Daria in the room. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is Eleanor Matthews. She comes to us by way of Songset. I know her through our shared blood mother,” Sante introduced. “Eleanor, please meet Valerie and Alejandro.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Eleanor responded, sounding anything but.
Daria would have speculated that the tall blonde was the woman Sante was in love with, if she hadn’t recognized her as one of the inner circle following Sante the night of the party. She knew her name, in any case. Eleanor Matthews. She’d been in the file she’d received from the GBC with the information on all of Sante’s closest Chosen. The ones he wrapped around himself like a warm blanket. It was true Eleanor shared Sante’s blood mother and had been with him from the beginning.
Anyway, Sante’s lady wasn’t a moderately aged, moderately powerful Chosen like Eleanor. She was a succubare, if Daria’s little trip to Sante’s house that night had given her any clue. Unless, of course, that woman had just been a snack on the side. That was always possible.
Daria glanced around the room and searched with her limited psychic sense to find other bodies in the building, but came up empty. Damn. She’d hoped to meet the mystery woman today.
“Please, have a seat,” Sante said, motioning to the available furniture. “There are refreshments on the table if you desire something more than blood this morning.”
“Thank you,” answered Alejandro. They sat down.
Sante motioned to a bright red pitcher holding some unidentifiable cool drink that sat on a tray on the coffee table. Red glasses had been lined up on either side. “It’s chilled blood wine.” Sante frowned. “Some kind of fruit flavoring, I believe.”
Daria shivered. She was Chosen now, but hadn’t grown used to all a vampire’s common dietary preferences yet. Blood wine was sought after in the Chosen community—blood mixed with wine and flavored with fruit. It was generally a very expensive refreshment. Something about mixing blood with strawberries or cherries made Daria’s stomach unhappy.
Alejandro poured himself a glass and she relaxed, off the hook since one of them imbibed.
“I called you here so you could meet a couple of the people you may find yourself working with,” said Sante. “I thought I would put both of you on my staff for community relations. You’re new around here, so it will give you a chance to meet people.”
Community relations. That didn’t sound promising. She’d been hoping he’d appoint them to drug trafficking or something interesting.
“
What exactly does the community relations staff do?” asked Alejandro.
Eleanor curled her long legs beneath her. “We organize parties and gatherings. Generally, we promote goodwill among our residents.”
Holy shuffleboard on the lido deck, they wanted them to be party planners? Teddy bears, honey making, and goodwill. What was next? Organized rainbow chasing and bubble-blowing contests?
Eleanor smiled at Daria. “I see your expression, Valerie. It will be far more interesting than you think. Keeping the long-lived and generally jaded Chosen entertained is quite a trick. You haven’t been here long enough to discover all our various gatherings.”
“Valerie and Alejandro, my pet,” Sante broke in, “are sadly monogamous. There will be no playing for them.”
Oh.
Eleanor eyed not Alejandro with regret, but Daria. She made a moue with her rosy lips. “What a pity. Well, give them a hundred years of the missionary position with only one partner and they might change their tune.”
“Eleanor, don’t push,” Sante said in a reproving tone.
She studied Daria. “But that still shouldn’t stop you from helping organize the fetes, correct?”
Daria didn’t like the predatory look in her eyes, as though Eleanor might be inclined to try and change her mind on the issue. There would be no changing her mind, ever.
“Of course not,” Alejandro answered for them.
Daria nodded her assent. “We’d be happy to help out.” They had no good reason to decline and, at this point, they had to take what was offered. “It sounds . . . fun.”
“It’s a lot of work,” Sante broke in. “We take the happiness of the residents very seriously. Bored Chosen are dangerous Chosen.”
Why did that statement seem so ironic coming from his mouth?
“All members of the board of directors, as they’re called, are in charge of various things here at the Shining Way,” continued Sante. “I switch members around sometimes, so you won’t be doing this forever.”
“What is Carlos in charge of?” Daria couldn’t help asking. It just flew right out of her mouth.
Sante smiled wolfishly. “Security.”
Color her surprised.
“Do you think we could get a formal tour of the dome?” Daria asked. “We’ve been here a couple of weeks, but we still feel like we haven’t seen it all.”
They would see only what Sante wanted them to see, but who knew what they might glimpse by chance? Who knew what new bit of information a tour might yield? Anything to break their consistent run of bad luck would be welcome, no matter how small.
Sante mulled that over for a moment. “I can have someone show you around, yes.”
Movement drew their attention to the back of the building. The scent of the individual reached her before she caught a glimpse of the woman’s multicolored gown—a succubare.
The woman bustled through the doorway, and Daria’s heart stopped for a moment. Her vision blurred and it took every ounce of her will to not show her utter and complete surprise.
Ari Templeton.
20
SHE walked toward Sante in a smooth, graceful gait, a serene look on her face. The hem of her breezy long dress, a pleasing pattern of various bold hues, swirled around her ankles. She wore no shoes on her slender feet, only a small gold ankle bracelet adorned them. Gold glittered at each ear, on her fingers, and in the hollow of her throat, where an expensive-looking pendant lay, a diamond winking at its center.
This woman did not appear kidnapped, not by any stretch of the imagination. She did not look hassled. She did not look harmed.
She looked like she was vacationing.
“My love,” said Ari, approaching Sante. Her voice was low and mellifluous. It was the voice Daria had heard coming from Sante’s bedroom the night she’d broken into his house.
Sante smiled as warmly as Daria could remember him occasionally smiling at her—in another life—then reached up and pulled Ari down into his lap to kiss her. Across from them, Eleanor rolled her eyes like someone annoyed by the behavior of the newly in love.
Daria mastered her expression with effort, but managed to smile indulgently at the couple as she imagined Valerie would do. Within, her thoughts and emotions swirled in a confused tornado, threatening to overwhelm her.
Beside her, Alejandro controlled his reaction like the pro he was, though he had to be as shocked as she was.
Their acting ability was a good thing. Carlos watched them carefully from across the room with his beady dark eyes, measuring them, weighing them, as he always seemed to be measuring and weighing them.
Sante and Ari kissed for several moments. The kind of kiss that makes everyone around a couple feel like they’re intruding on an intimate moment and are voyeurs. The kiss of a couple so in love they don’t care who’s watching; they simply have to touch.
Finally they broke their embrace and Ari slid to the side, still keeping one slim leg draped over Sante’s muscular one. She glanced at Daria and Alejandro and smiled sheepishly, coloring a bit as she ran a finger around her lips to fix her lipstick.
Oh, god. The poor woman is like a besotted teenager.
“Forgive us,” Sante said with a shrug and a pair of broad, upturned hands. “Ari and I are newly mated. I’m sure you can understand.”
Alejandro made some polite sounds of assent, but Daria couldn’t respond. All her energy went to masking her expression.
“In addition,” Sante continued, “Ari is a new Chosen and her appetites are especially hearty. Not that I mind.” Another wolfish grin. He nodded toward Daria. “My Ari did not make it through the succubare, as you did, Valerie. It is one reason I am interested in you.”
“You’re the human who made it through?” asked Ari suddenly.
“Yes,” Daria answered smoothly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Ari slid from the couch and crossed the floor in a sensual movement. She knelt at Daria’s feet and took one of Daria’s hands between her palms. “I just had to touch you.” The succubare were like that. “How did you do it? I tried and tried to push through, but I couldn’t.” Tears glistened in the woman’s eyes.
“Like I told Christopher, I’m not sure. When I felt like giving up, I pushed harder.” Daria paused, glancing at Sante. “You were Chosen voluntarily, weren’t you?”
Ari bowed her head and nodded. “I knew the chances that I wouldn’t push through were great. I took them anyway because I was so in love.” She raised her head. “I don’t regret it, but I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to make it through.”
Such a long life lived dependent on sex; Daria could imagine she was sorry.
Sante rose and helped Ari to her feet. She seemed like such a sweet woman, soft, and vulnerable. The total opposite of her father, Richard Templeton. How could she have fallen in love with Christopher Sante?
“How did you two meet?” Alejandro asked. God bless him.
Ari smiled. “He came into Rapid City one evening. I’d gone there to demonstrate against my father’s latest crusade against the Chosen. You know my father, undoubtedly. He’s Richard Templeton.” She paused and waited for their reaction, which they gave in a couple of understanding murmurings. “Christopher was there that night, and it was love at first bite.” She smiled and it lit her entire face. “We dated in secret for a long time, until we knew we had to be together as a mated pair. So I underwent the Choosing.”
“That’s a very romantic story,” answered Daria.
“Please, her presence here is secret,” said Sante. “She travels through the dome via underground passageways. No one sees her except my inner circle. As you can understand, her father isn’t happy with this arrangement. It’s for her protection.”
“Of course,” answered Alejandro.
“If you’ll excuse us,” continued Sante. “We’re done here. I’ll let you coordinate with Eleanor for the rest.”
Alejandro and Daria watched Sante lead Ari away, her head resting on his shoulder a
nd his arm around her waist in a loving and protective gesture.
Eleanor stood. “Well, I’ve got to go, too, but I’ll be in touch soon regarding particulars. We have a gathering tomorrow you should probably attend, very erotic. Hope you don’t mind. It’s at the Alhambra Building at midnight. See you there?”
Oh, good. An orgy. Daria could hardly wait.
“We’ll see you there,” answered Alejandro.
They followed Eleanor out of the building, Carlos staring at them the whole time. The way he looked at her made shivers of revulsion rocket up her spine. Daria was just able to control herself until they were free of the building and Eleanor had walked in the other direction.
Alejandro took her arm, perhaps sensing her impending explosion. “Just keeping walking.”
She did, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. They walked all the way back to the room and as soon as she closed the door she paced. “What the fuck, Alejandro? What the fuck!”
“I’m as confused as you are.”
“Do you think she’s being coerced in some way?”
Alejandro shook his head. “You saw her. Did she look coerced? I think Sante’s got a lot of power, but not that much.”
She chewed on the edge of her thumbnail. “He’s got to have an angle. He’s playing her like he played me.”
“Maybe.”
She looked up at him and stopped chewing. “Maybe? No doubt, Alejandro. Wooing and winning the daughter of Richard Templeton? Hell, and he didn’t even have to kidnap her. All he had to do was turn on the charm and seduce her away. Charm and seduce her enough to want to be Chosen?”
Alejandro ran a hand over his chin. “It does sound like Sante.”
“You think?” Bitterness gave the words a hard edge. “Bastard. He’s making this twice as hard.” It would’ve been easier to free Ari had she been willing to be freed. Sante had mind-fucked the woman but good.
“I’m calling Brandon in here.” He concentrated a moment, communicating with the other man via a mental pathway.
