by J. A. Saare
Everything came rushing back, and I realized I was still on the floor where I’d fallen.
Grunts, groans, and feminine cries combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin. I forced my aching head around. Wesley was on the carpet and Treenie was underneath him, braced on hands and knees. They were naked, bodies coming together in forceful, animalistic thrusts.
CeCe and Amanda watched from the couch, naked as well. Their hands moved back and forth between their thighs as they groaned and panted. The smell had come from the fireplace, which was the only light source, glowing rusty orange against their skin.
I felt bile rising from my stomach and I swallowed, holding my breath.
I had been invited to a vampire orgy.
“Rhiannon?”
I opened my eyes, blinking to adjust my sight. “Disco?” Relief coursed through me at the sound of his voice, but I couldn’t locate him in the darkness.
“Shh!” Disco’s voice whispered inside my head. “Don’t talk out loud. You have to get outside. Can you do that?”
I chanced a glance toward the living room. Treenie was ass up in the air, her full breasts flush against the rug, mouth wide and eyes closed. Wesley pounded into her with enough force to push her forward, his lush hair covering both their bodies.
“Where are you?”
“Don’t talk. Think of what you want to say, and I will hear it. I’m outside, Rhiannon.” A trace of urgency entered his voice. “Can you make it to me? I cannot enter the house.”
“Yes,” I thought back. I would make it to him because I had to.
My body protested as I turned to my side, and I decided to stay on the floor, dragging myself as not to draw attention. My right hand was slick against the wood, and I lifted it into the air. A long deep gash oozed inside my palm, several of my fingertips cut deep into the fatty tissue. I pushed aside the pain and nausea, and continued to pull myself along the wood, sliding in slow motion across the floor.
“Carson,” Wesley yelled, and the slapping sounds ceased. I froze, terror seeping into my stomach. “Someone’s awake.”
“Fuck!” Carson’s voice came from the kitchen. He murmured something I couldn’t make out, and Marcia’s lust-filled voice whispered in response. He came around the counter, naked and totally aroused.
Standing on unsteady legs, I bounded for the door and made it past the counter before Carson’s arm snaked around my midsection. He shoved a soft piece of cloth over my mouth again, and I brought my right leg up, thrusting the heel of my shit kicker into his shin.
“Son of a bitch!” he grunted, arms going lax.
When my feet hit the ground, I ran for the door. His hand wound through my hair, yanking my head back. He shoved the cloth over my mouth and I swung my arm around, planting an elbow into his ribs.
“Fucking bitch!” He released my hair and turned me. This time, he didn’t bother with the cloth. He drew back his arm and punched me dead-on in the mouth. The world spun and blood poured from my lips. I rotated with the blow, landing flat-faced on the floor.
I stayed down, waiting for him to make another move. Blood seeped past my lips and poured onto the polished wood like deep red paint. I closed my mouth, swallowing and gagging. My gaze drifted down the hallway to my left, and I saw a back door.
It was made entirely of glass, I could see outside.
“Let’s try this again.” He flipped me over and shoved the cloth over my face. His fingers slipped on my bloody mouth, and he used his clean hand to apply pressure. I shifted my weight and held my breath, waiting for the right moment.
When he moved between my legs, I drove my knee up with all the force I could muster. I felt the spongy tissue give way under the bony strength of my knee as I made solid contact with his balls. He groaned and fell on his side, hands coming up to cup himself.
I shoved his body away, stumbled to my feet, and his hand lashed out, latching onto my boot. My feet flew out from under me, and I went down hard, chin cracking the floor. Blackness threatened, and I worried I might pass out.
“Wesley said to wait, but fuck it. He can go second for a change.” Rough hands pulled my turtleneck free from my pants and tugged at the slacks. A deep-seated fury erupted. I would not let this happen without a fight.
No fucking way.
I reached out with my left hand and grabbed a handful of his blond hair. I twisted it as hard as I could, balled my fist, and when his chin came up, punched him in the nose. There was a nasty snap as his head whipped to the side and blood gushed from both nostrils.
When his corresponding blow connected with my jaw, I saw stars.
His hands cupped my breasts and moved down to my slacks. I brought my leg up, and he shoved my arms above my head, locking them in place with his free hand. I didn’t protest, pretending to be as limp as a rag doll. I waited as his tongue ran along my face and down my throat, shaking violently as his other hand let go of my trapped arms and started groping my body, squeezing my breasts painfully.
I stretched my fingers, my leg still clenched around his hip. The jimmy club had come loose during our struggle and was visible inside my boot. I got my fingers around the taped metal and tugged. The tape slid against my slick hand, and I gripped it tightly.
“That’s it.” Carson groaned and rubbed his crotch between my legs, a considerable erection grinding against me.
“You got that right!” I snarled, raring back with all the strength left in my body.
The club struck him in the temple, the sound a mixture of a dull thud and a splitting crack. His eyes widened, then closed, and he collapsed on my body. I shoved at his shoulders, pushing him down as I tried to free myself. His body was dead weight, and it took several long thrashing stretches to get loose.
I crept to my knees, standing on wobbly feet. The room spun, and I threw out my arms in an effort to keep balanced. With the jimmy club squeezed tightly in my hand, I staggered down the hall. I focused on one thing—the beckoning glass door only a few feet away.
“You don’t want to run.” Wesley’s voice came from the kitchen, and that same erotic enticement coursed through my veins. “It’s our time now. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Our time together, his voice promised in my head, just the two of us, no one to interfere, and no one to interrupt. He would bring me over again and again, giving me pleasure I’d never experienced in my life.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I pressed my lips together so that the split lip burned and pulsed. I pushed forward even as a part of me demanded I stop, knowing if I didn’t, I would be lost.
“I know what you are, little necromancer. Don’t be afraid.” Wesley’s voice came directly from behind, and his words were compelling, speaking to my mind, telling me I needed to wait for him. I wanted to wait for him. I would beg and plead for what he could give me.
“You’ll love everything I plan to do to you.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered, adrenaline and fear overcoming lethargy.
I forced my feet to obey, screaming one word repeatedly in my rebellious mind. Run. Don’t stop. Run! I would not go to him, not if I had a choice. Each springing step brought the glass closer, and I knew without hesitation I’d rather eat every single shard than to let him touch me.
I didn’t slow down, turning my body in the air at the last possible moment before crashing through. It hurt. A blunt pain scorched the left side of my body as I braced my arms around my head to protect my face. I pulled my knees into my waist and waited for the painful crash into the cement. I was aware of solid arms surrounding me and pulling me close. I started to flail, attempting to break free. I didn’t make it to my freedom only to condemn myself now.
“Easy, Rhiannon,” Disco murmured. “I’m here.”
I stilled instantly. It was Disco. I had made it outside, and he was waiting for me—just as he promised. My body erupted into uncontrollable shivering, my teeth chattering in my ears. The harder I tried to fight it off, the harder I shook.
“Gabriel?” Wesley’s voice had lost the seductive edge. He sounded confused and worried.
I burrowed into Disco’s chest, turning my face into his body. His arms tightened protectively. I didn’t want to see those amber eyes, or hear that alluring voice in my head.
“What are you doing here, Wesley?” Disco growled. “You’re supposed to be in Nevada.”
“I no longer wish to feed off sluts and tramps who should pay me for the pleasure I bring out of them. I can go where I want, when I want. Who the fuck are you to interfere?”
“No one, until you force yourself on the unwilling. That’s beneath us, even for an incubus.” Disco’s chest rumbled as he spoke, and I could sense the anger rolling through his body.
“She would have come to no harm by my hand. The human male lost his temper, even though I informed him specifically that she was to be mine. Return her to me, and I’ll prove this truth to you.” His voice shifted and it sounded as if he were moving closer.
“Don’t!” Disco thundered. “I should kill you myself.”
“Why are you angry? She bears no mark. She is unspoken for and unbeholden. I am within my rights to feed from any human who is free of another’s claim. As a necromancer, she would give me triple the energy I need. Return her to my care, and I will tend her injuries and erase this night from her memory.”
“Listen to me, closely.” Disco bit out each word, pulling me into the shelter of his arms and chest. “She is beholden to me, and is here tonight on my orders to investigate the deaths of our brothers and sisters in the city. My word serves as her mark, and I don’t want to see you near her again. Do you understand?”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that? I would never knowingly feed off of someone who is marked.”
“Perhaps in the future you should stay away from her kind. They don’t fall so easily into our mind trappings, and you may not be certain the exchange is consensual.”
“I will take it under advisement.”
“You’d better do more than that Wesley,” Disco snapped. “I want you to clear the memories of everyone inside. None of them are to have any memory of tonight.” Disco’s voice deepened, angry and unforgiving. “I don’t want the male that attacked her to see the light of day. Take him somewhere his body will never be found. Correct the wrong he has committed this night.”
“I’ll see to it.”
I heard the crunch of glass as Wesley returned to the house, and my body sagged. I hurt all over, and when I tried to open my mouth, I gasped. The ripped skin along the crease of my lip had sealed, and the movement reopened the cut. The world shifted as blackness threatened to pull me under.
“I’m taking you home, Rhiannon. Is that all right?” Disco asked softly against my hair.
“Yes.” I felt reality slipping away and I welcomed the darkness that surrounded me and took away all the pain, until there was nothing but blessed blackness.
Chapter Thirteen
I could hear voices, soft and distant, becoming distinct. I assumed I was dreaming, perhaps another vivid nightmare resurfacing. I stilled my breathing and didn’t move, expanding my hearing to listen. A door opened and the sounds were no longer muffled.
Individual cadences and dialects rang inside my ears.
“She got the shit pounded out of her, that’s for sure. And she’s bruised from head to toe. Disco said she ate a plate glass door to get outside.”
“No shit? She went through a glass door?”
“Yeah, man, she’s tough as nails. Wait until you see her. Just keep it down. Disco will have my ass for coming in here again. He’s already on the warpath.”
“I heard. Peter said he sent Paine to track down Wesley. I guess he wasn’t as forgiving once he got home and Nala cleaned her up.”
“That’s her? She’s so little.”
A hand touched my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. Two young men—one light, the other dark—were standing next to the bed, eyes growing large in their beautiful faces. Since vampire movement was the only way a voice from across the room could be standing beside me in the next instant, it was an obvious giveaway as to what they were.
I lurched up and cried out as pain shot through my body. “Shit!” I moaned in agony, collapsing against the pillows.
Everything hurt.
“Oh man, she’s awake! Get Disco. I’m getting the hell out of here.”
I stared at my aching arm, bandaged from wrist to elbow. The hand on the opposite side was wrapped up as well; little strips of taped gauze surrounded individual fingers. I shifted and groaned. My entire left side throbbed, and I knew that each place my body struck against the glass would be purple.
Disco appeared at my side and I didn’t try to move, content to stay still so long as it left me pain free. “Where am I?” I asked, wincing as I licked my lips and touched the tear on the side. It was ragged, twisting around the crease.
“I asked if I could bring you home. You indicated that was acceptable,” he spoke in a pacifying tone, careful not to move and jostle the mattress as he sat beside me.
“We’re at your house?” I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I was too tired and too sore.
“Yes.”
“How badly am I hurt?” I hoped the prognosis was better than I felt.
“Nothing is broken, but you could use stitches in several areas on your body,” he informed me evenly, “and you’re bruised all over.”
“I’ve had worse.” I attempted to sit up again, and the pain along my ribs stole my breath as I pushed with my arms. I gave up, breathing in short pants.
“I wanted to wait until you were awake to ask. There is no reason for your pain or injuries to linger. We can take care of that right now, if you’ll allow it.”
My brain computed this information quickly. Of course he could help me heal—vampire blood. I hurt like hell, but the idea of ingesting blood didn’t appeal to me, no matter how remarkable the results.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Please, Rhiannon. You’re suffering needlessly.”
I peered into his face. His brow was furrowed, blue eyes conflicted, wheat blond hair tousled and unkempt. It wouldn’t be that difficult. A couple of quick swallows of the stuff, and I’d be good as new. From the look I was receiving, Disco would take matters into his own hands whether I liked it or not.
“Okay,” I agreed numbly.
His face smoothed, tension evaporating. He stood and walked to the nightstand. Pulling open the drawer, he lifted something out. A sliver of bright metal flashed in the light as he returned to my side. He lifted his sleeve to expose his wrist.
“Oh no.” I closed my eyes, shaking my head, understanding where he intended to get the blood. “I thought you poured the stuff into wine or some shit. I can’t drink that from your body.”
“Why not?” He held the sharp edge of the knife over his skin. The iridescent handle flared red and pink as he paused, staring at me in confusion.
“Because it’s disgusting, that’s why.”
“For someone who prides herself on being such a hard ass, I would think this would be easy.” He shot me a look that mirrored his disappointment.
I tried to sit up again, forcing myself upright. The room spun and a wave of nausea hit as my head began to throb. I lifted my hand to my face, exploring the swelling along my jaw with cautious fingers. I didn’t want to know how bad I looked. Two good jabs to the face and a plummet to the floor ensured I was black and blue. This situation was all kinds of messed up, but it could have been much worse.
I could have woken at CeCe’s with Wesley and his nut job sidekick Carson ready for round two.
“How did you know Wesley anyway?” It hurt just to speak.
“We can discuss this after.” Disco lifted his hand, made a decisive cut, and placed his wrist near my mouth. The blood flowed thickly to the shallow wound, welling out in a dark ruddy pool. “You must hurry, Rhiannon, or I will have to pierce myself again. We heal quickly, even
with blessed silver.”
He thrust his arm closer.
My hands trembled as I touched his cool skin, fingers gently wrapping underneath. I closed my eyes at the last moment, opening my mouth and praying I wouldn’t gag when I swallowed. I took the blood from the surface. It was cool and incredibly sweet, with just a hint of spice. I lifted my head, prepared to release his arm.
“No.” Disco moved closer, his voice slightly shaken. “You have to take more.”
I hesitated before my mouth descended. The blood on the surface was nearly gone, and I had to suck gently. Disco groaned and I felt his right hand running along my back, fingers twining through my hair. I swallowed, and it hit. Differences in my perception shifted instantaneously. My vision cleared, my hearing opened…and my body started to heal. The gashes on my hands and arms started to tingle painfully, as well as the nasty tear on my lip. I tried to pull away, but Disco’s hand cupped the back of my head.
“More.” His voice was hoarse and thick, his hand pressing gently on my neck.
I drew on his arm, taking the sweet, spicy liquid into my mouth. My body stopped throbbing, the soreness ebbing away to nothing. I sucked again, and then again, drinking more of him. He relaxed, gently rubbing my back.
When the flow ebbed, I forced myself to stop. He lifted his wrist to his mouth and ran his tongue along the wound. When he lowered his hand, nothing was there, the skin unblemished.
Everything magnified as the room seemed to come alive and breathe. My gaze rested on Disco, moving along his arm, up his shoulder, and stopping at his face. My breath caught. I was completely wrong. Disco had never been a twenty-something looker. He was far more than that. With my perfect vision, I could see his beautifully flawless skin, so smooth, like lustrous ivory.
I reached out with my bandaged hand, touched his temple, and traced my fingers along the contours of his cheek. His skin was incredibly soft, cool and silken. My focus shifted from his skin to his eyes. The irises were a mixture of blue and aqua with black along the edge. The inner brilliance emitted from golden flecks imbedded deep within. His lashes were exceptionally long and dark, framing his eyes beautifully.
