The Ultimate Bite

by Crystal Green

  He looked away from her. “Before now, I’ve only needed blood.”

  She was afraid to say it. “I’m giving you something besides that?”

  As he met her gaze, her body felt like metal sheeting hit by a hammer.

  His intensity was almost unbearable. “I have never remembered what it was like to be human as I do when I am with you. I take that from you, Kimberly. Somehow, you provide it for me when no one else does.”

  His admission startled her. Suddenly, she felt uncovered, nude, but in a mental way.

  God. She couldn’t care less when he fed off of her blood, but this was something more personal, more valuable.

  But shouldn’t she be jumping for joy? He’d just told her she wasn’t like the others.

  No. It actually felt…empty. Maybe because she wasn’t willing to accept it and see where it could lead. This went beyond easy sex, easy blood-giving.

  At her reaction, a sad smile captured his lips. “I understand.”

  She donned her flirty shield, the defenses she’d plated over her skin after Lori had died. That was a part of what had happened, right? The first bite had allowed her to become someone different, someone who didn’t allow any man under her skin because he could never match what a vampire had given to her. Life could never match it.

  But now that her vampire was here, she was still steely.

  Who the hell was she, anymore?

  He added, “I see how it is, Kimberly, how it has to be.”

  “What do you—”

  He held up a hand, putting an end to the conversation.

  What had he been trying to tell her? It was as if he’d started to spill his heart out but had cut himself off. Why?

  Even while she was asking, she knew it was for the best. They had more to do than sort out human-vampire relations issues. He was just a bite to her, and she was…

  Good God, she really was more to him.

  Once again, she thought of what this last bite had been lacking. Whatever it was, deep down, she really did want it, knew it was the only thing that could satisfy her.

  But she was afraid. So damned afraid.

  As the light shifted ever so slightly, Stephen sighed, moving away from the wall with the fluid grace that held her so enthralled. A gust of wind flapped at his long coat.

  “I need to leave.”

  Her response was out of her mouth before she could censure it. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  He seemed surprised by her heartfelt reaction and, for a moment, it looked as if he didn’t know what to do about it. Then he went back to being the unruffled vampire who’d captured her imagination, even though she knew there was more to him.

  “Though I can always ‘hole up’ in a dark, hidden place,” he said, “I prefer my comforts, my family.”

  “Your family,” she repeated wonderingly. “Not your brother…”

  “No.” Stephen’s posture went ramrod straight. “My brother passed on long ago while still a mortal.”

  When he glanced at her, she saw that he understood what she’d been through with Lori. He sympathized with the loss.

  “Are we all bound to disappoint you?” she whispered. Maybe she shouldn’t have said it, but it was in her heart. She didn’t like realizing that.

  He opened his mouth, but, instead of uttering something, he went into vampire mode, darting at her with such speed that she barely had time to gasp before she realized he’d cocooned her in his coat and was speeding through the night.

  Just as quickly, she found herself inside her Chevy near the construction site, dizzy as a slight wind whipped past her.

  Too late, she realized that breeze had only been Stephen leaving her alone.

  But she was used to that feeling.

  A FEW DESERT MILES AWAY, in an abandoned gas station, the rogue burrowed beneath some blankets in an old, rusted semitrailer. At the threat of every dawn, he locked it from the inside, as he’d rigged it to do. No human would have the strength to get past the door unless they made a lot of alarming noise.

  In the peaceful darkness of the trailer, he tried to forget what a disaster the night had turned out to be. It had started well enough with the attack on the woman—a member of a vampire-hunting organization called the Van Helsing League. Her picture had been on their Internet site, bold as you please, and her intention to “patrol” Mystique was plainly posted in one of the site’s columns.

  Humans. So arrogant in their naiveté. Hadn’t they ever stopped to think that a real vampire could keep tabs on them?

  This Darlene he had attacked was a perfect victim, an ideal choice for gaining the attention he needed. And his plan had worked to a certain extent. Through listening to the whispers of other local vampires who didn’t realize he was eavesdropping while they roamed casinos and bars, the rogue knew that Stephen Cole had been assigned to track him down.

  And that Stephen Cole had been using the aid of this Van Helsing League to do it.

  Well, track him Stephen had, just as the rogue wanted. And if things had gone according to plan, Stephen would have led him to Fegan, the most powerful master in the area.

  The rogue only wished one of those human hunters hadn’t been with Stephen tonight.

  He yanked at a blanket. He hadn’t expected her. He also hadn’t anticipated her throwing a stake at his arm. Even now, the almost-healed wound nagged a bit, exacerbating his usually mild temper.

  Cursed hunter. At the construction site, where he’d left Darlene to lure Stephen into the private conversation all the previous drainings had been leading up to, the rogue’s senses had been filled with the human scent of the cops; this had distracted him from honing in on the hunter until it was too late. Seeing her, he’d thought quickly, hoping to get Stephen to perhaps hear him out while using the redhead as a shield from an attack. The rogue hadn’t wanted to bite her, but it had been necessary when Stephen overreacted.

  That had surprised the rogue the most, really. Stephen’s possessive response.

  The rogue settled on his back, covered by the blankets except for his mouth, his breathing slowing as rest descended.

  Tonight his plans to be peacefully taken to the wisely hidden Fegan hadn’t worked. He’d been close—excruciatingly close—and now all he could do was wait for tonight’s seeds to flower. Always careful, he had put a backup plan into motion that would definitely bring Stephen to him again—but on the rogue’s terms.

  For Stephen Cole would understand.

  He would help him get to Fegan, the only vampire who could give the rogue what he was searching for.

  10

  MORNING SOON glimpsed over the mountains, layering gradual strokes of orange and purple over the sky as day gathered strength.

  Kim was sitting in the front seat of her idling Chevy, holding her cell phone and playing with the fringes of the blanket over her shoulders. It was from the backseat, and just after Stephen had left, she’d realized that he’d draped it over her.

  Nice that he’d thought to do that.

  The phone was the second thing she’d grabbed out of her purse after Stephen had secured her in the car. The first item had been a crucifix, which she’d hung around her neck. Even though dawn had emerged shortly after Stephen had left, Kim felt a chill near the construction site where her car was parked, so she’d taken precautions.

  After all, this was where the rogue had taken Darlene, where the rogue had bitten Kim last night. If Stephen hadn’t reacted so quickly to chase the bad vamp away then heal her….

  Stephen. She let the name slide through her. It was like drinking a potion that warmed her from belly to limbs.

  As she glanced outside her Chevy, the morning streets looked arid, dead, and she knew it wasn’t just because it was early. For some reason, everything seemed a little less exciting without him here.

  Stephen.

  The thought of waking up and finding the days hollow for the rest of her life disturbed her. But what if…

  Her mental fantasy machine k
icked into gear. What would it be like to roll out of bed at night instead of in the morning? What would it be like to live for years and years, looking just as she did now, but with the gathered wisdom of maturity under her belt?

  She leaned against her steering wheel, delving further into the what-ifs, toying with the idea of a life in darkness. She would dress for that nightlife, dress for the one thing that had made her feel alive for the first time in ages.

  She would dress for Stephen.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw herself looking into a mirror, smoothing down a sleek red evening gown. Then Stephen would enter the picture, easing behind her to rest his hands on her bare shoulders. She could imagine the shiver that would travel her skin, imagine his smile as their gazes met in the looking glass.

  His eyes would turn that blazing green, the color of arousal, as one hand skimmed over her collarbone. Gazes still connected, he would watch her closely while dipping his fingers into the bodice of her dress. As he traced her nipple to a peak, he would bend to her neck, fangs lightly scraping while he said, “You are the woman I have spent centuries searching for.” It was a great fantasy. But she knew she’d never see him in a mirror.

  Somewhere on the construction site, a horn beeped, and Kim started, grabbing her steering wheel, her dream so vivid that she had almost felt the pop of his fangs entering her skin. Her clit was stiff against her jeans, and she reached down to press against it, to assuage the erotic agony.

  But it didn’t work. No release, no relief.

  Finally, she pushed away from the steering wheel. Why wasn’t the fantasy enough?

  Maybe, her common sense said, biting and dry-humping your brains out night after night isn’t what you really want.

  Kim flipped open her phone and cleared her head. As part of the League, it was her business to peer into the abyss; she just didn’t want to do it with herself, because she couldn’t stand to think of what might be looking back at her.

  After donning an earpiece that would allow her to drive and chat at the same time, she accessed Troy’s number using a voice command, then steered the Chevy onto the side road. Minutes later, as she pulled onto the freeway, her boss answered in a whisper.

  “Kim?”

  “Hey,” she said, knowing he’d seen her caller ID. “How’s Darlene?”

  It sounded as if Troy was yawning. Then he said, “She’s sleeping. It’s lights out in her room.”

  Panic jabbed her. “You’re not in there? Wait. I’m on my way—”

  “No, no, Kim. I just stepped into the hall to talk to you, but I’ve stuck by her side like grade-school paste this whole time. Her parents are arriving at the airport soon to be with her.” He sounded much more alert now. “How’d the rest of that date go?”

  In the same way she couldn’t bring herself to reveal Stephen to the League, she felt protective of what had happened with him and the rogue last night, too. But that was ridiculous, seeing as the bad vamp had attacked one of her own and she needed to tell the League what had gone down.

  She decided to alter things to protect the preternatural, leaving out Stephen’s vampire rescue efforts, of course. “Okay, don’t go apeshit, but I went to the construction site last night.”

  “What?”

  “Hi, apeshit? Not good to see you. Can I please talk to Troy again?”

  “Kim, how many times have I told you—”

  “I’m safe and sound, so dial it down, Troy. While we were poking around the site—”

  “We?”

  Kim rolled her eyes, then narrowly avoided an early-morning driver who almost cut her off. Dork. “Me and Stephen, and I don’t need any comments about bringing him with me because you should be glad I had a wingman.” She’d gone by the rules. Yeesh. “Anyway, while we were at the site, trying to avoid the cops, we encountered something that I think was our drainer vamp.”

  “Seriously? And?”

  Damn. She couldn’t explain how the rogue had uttered Stephen’s name. What could she tell Troy without exposing her vampire guy?

  “The creature was hiding its identity,” she said, “so that’s all there is to tell.”

  “Did it attack you?” Troy sounded dangerously pissed.

  Kim tried not to be impressed by the alpha display. “We got away before it could do any damage.” That was the truth, at least. Stephen had healed her and carted her off before she’d bled even a thimbleful.

  “You’re all right, though,” Troy added. “I mean, you’re not hurt or…”

  “I’m fine. Stephen and I are just fine.”

  “Right. Stephen.”

  By now, Kim had turned onto the 215. Even this early, there was a little traffic. “You got a problem with him?”

  “Only that you should’ve left your overseas boy toy home last night, Kim. He’s not League. I wouldn’t bring a date on business. Besides, I—” Troy paused. “Forget it.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just get a bad feeling about the…guy. Your date.”

  Besides asking him what he had against Stephen, she wanted to ask Troy when he’d last had a date, but she knew that he was somewhat of a workaholic even outside of the League. Still, every once in a while, Powder would mention Troy getting some, so she knew there was action going on in those pants of his.

  “Let’s move off of this subject.” Kim didn’t want him asking anything more about her vampire.

  “Got it. Dropping Stephen.”

  His name lingered in the air, and Kim smiled, allowing it to saturate her once more. She conjured last night’s exquisite mind game—a hypnotic fantasy joining them in a way she’d never thought possible. Regular men couldn’t touch her vamp.

  Just thinking about his history—a highwayman, by God—turned her on. He’d taken every romantic element and swathed her in it, binding her in the thrall of naughty wish fulfillment. He’d been the robber, she’d been the victim who’d had power. Delicious fantasy at its best.

  A climax that had wracked her.

  She blew out a hot-and-bothered breath.

  “Kim?” Troy asked.

  “Mmm?”

  “Oh, man.” She could almost see him shaking his head. “You think you can concentrate enough to hear something I noticed about Darlene?”

  At the mention of her friend, Kim sat up straighter. “Go on.”

  “It’s interesting—her bite wound is pretty much healed.”

  Absently, Kim reached up to touch the tattoo of last night’s Stephen bite. There were no raised marks, anymore, and she’d make a bet that soon there’d be little evidence left of ever being bitten there. The rogue’s bite on her other side was the same, thanks to Stephen’s ministrations.

  Kim pursed her lips. Boy, she was kind of a bite farm by now.

  She geared up to ask Troy a question or two. “How did the police react to Dar’s bite? And the doctors?”

  “Well, one doctor joked about all the ‘vampire attacks’ they’ve seen coming through lately, and everyone laughed in that uncomfortable, shut-up-and-give-me-the-real-story way. All the authorities are going to be coming up with a million reasons why Darlene was attacked by something else, believe me.”

  That was good for Stephen and his family, Kim thought.

  She blinked. Hell, when had her focus gone from the League’s hunting to the welfare of vampires?

  Something Stephen’d said came back to her.

  If vampires are discovered by society at large, it would mean the end to our freedom.

  Suddenly, that seemed more important than the more superficial excuse of showing the world these creatures existed and that she wasn’t psychotic for thinking she’d been bitten.

  When had she changed her mind?

  She took her exit and signed off with Troy, not wanting to think anymore, just wanting to rest, to forget. “I think I’ll call in sick to the bookstore today after I get enough shut-eye to function. Then I’ll be at Dar’s bedside.”

  “I’ll take good care of her until then
. And, remember, her parents will be here.”

  He was obviously playing hooky from his job today, too. See, he wasn’t a hard-ass dictator, after all. Troy did have a heart.

  “Thank you, boss man,” Kim said.

  They hung up and she headed home, knowing the route cold but trying to find her way, all the same.

  HOURS LATER, opening his eyes from a deep sleep, Stephen intuitively felt the night falling outside the shelter of his family’s cavern. He knew that, in the canyon, shadows would loom thick and summer-warm, knew that he would be leaving to take cover in their safety just as soon as he recovered fully from a day’s slumber.

  While he lay on his back and waited for his heightened vision to adjust from rest to reality, hints of Kimberly stamped the air.

  Upon awakening last night, she had been the first thing he had seen, as well. For an unguarded moment, he had thought that he could get used to having her greet him in this manner all the time.

  Now, he closed his eyes again, reconstructing the innocent, primal scent of her, conjuring the feel of her soft lips against his skin. A shudder sensitized his flesh, peaking him to near anguish in its rawness.

  He was beginning to look forward to waking up since it was proving to be such a pleasure. Yet…

  No, he should not be looking forward to anything at all. He had stopped anticipating and desiring back when Cassandra had taught him how dangerous that was. It was a lesson he would do well to remember now, especially since Kimberly had the potential to thwart his mission to find the rogue. All he had to do was consider what had happened last night, when he had been forced to choose between healing her and catching the other vampire.

  But that was not what bothered Stephen the most. It was more about what had happened after the rogue had left and Stephen had taken Kimberly to that crumbling building…after he had indulged in a linked fantasy that had brought them both to shuddering climaxes. After biting her again.

  It had been during Kimberly’s afterglow, amid the ecstasy she had experienced from his hypnosis, that he had realized she was attached to the vampire. She craved the fantasy and nothing else.