Eternal Blood - Books 1-3 Wolf Shield, Sword of the Blood, Vampire Bride

by Maria Isabel Pita

  His teeth pulled out of her abruptly, like two rock-hard cocks, and she moaned, half in protest at their loss and half in sweet, blessed relief. When he set her down her legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed across the rug at his feet. Lying on her back, her arms bent around her head, she stared dazedly up at his stern, beautiful face vaguely wondering if he had drained her of all her blood. Would she die? Would she live forever? Was there a difference?

  “My lord,” she said languidly, “please give me back my scarab.”

  He laughed.

  The sound rushed over her like a warm ocean wave and her awareness drifted away on it for a moment until the throbbing in her neck brought her back.

  “Do you really want it?” He crouched beside her, smiling indulgently. “Do you really believe it will protect you?”

  “It doesn’t matter, you’ve already had your way with me, but my father gave it to me and it means a lot to me.”

  He laughed again, more softly, a contented sound reminiscent of a cat’s purr. “Don’t be afraid, Audrey-Afanasiia. You’re dying, but only so you can live forever. As little of your blood must be left inside you as humanly possible so the drop of the elixir I give you has all the room it needs to propagate.”

  She discovered he was solid now—a seemingly real, physical man with supportive shoulders and a hard torso—when he lifted her up in his arms. Because it would have been awkward not to, she wrapped her own arms around his neck, but she knew as she did so that she was betraying Jonathan. She had already betrayed him.

  “My lord, please, as a token of good faith, give me back my scarab.” She wasn’t quite sure why she kept insisting, the damage was done, nothing could protect her now. How weak she felt told her she was dying, it was over, she had lost the battle with him and with herself. In the end, her body had chosen for her.

  “It has been centuries since I tasted such rich, sweet blood.” He laid her across the bed and then stood looking down at her again, a smile continuing to make his blood-stained lips look more alive than she had ever seen them. “I can deny you nothing.”

  She watched expectantly as he turned, moved over to her dresser, put his hand over his heart and drew a gold chain from his pocket. “Here it is.” He held it up a moment so she could see it before he placed the light-green stone on top of her wooden jewel box.

  “But I can’t reach it… I can’t move!”

  He walked over to a comfortable armchair facing the bed. “That’s because you’re dying,” he repeated with satisfaction and sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him and resting the back of his head in his hands, making himself comfortable.

  “That’s not fair,” she protested, alarmed at what an effort it was to speak. “You might as well have kept it.”

  “It’s all wishful thinking, Audrey. There’s no God who will take care of you. Grow up. If you desire immortality, you have to make it happen yourself, with a little help from me, of course. I only hope you won’t throw my gift away a second time.”

  “But if God doesn’t exist, why did I die as Afanasiia when I begged Jesus Christ to forgive the sins I had committed? I had drunk from the vial, snf-en-pet was flowing through my veins, I shouldn’t have died when Jonathan stabbed me, and yet I did. Why? Simply because I wanted to?”

  He answered softly, after a moment’s hesitation, “Perhaps” as though she had made him think, or reminded him of something.

  A shadow flowed into the room from the corridor and moved silently across the floor. Whispers.

  Audrey watched her sadly. She was going to leave her. She couldn’t continue living at home after she died and became a full-fledged vampire. Her father would be heartbroken, and so would Consuelo, whose delicious food she would never again be able to eat and appreciate. And she would probably never see Jonathan again either. Where was he?!

  Whispers froze in mid stride and made a low, moaning sound in her throat as her back arched in perfect Halloween cat form.

  Falkon sat up, his profile hard as ivory as he locked eyes with the animal.

  Audrey begged, “Don’t hurt her, please!” her voice rising above a whisper as fear for someone other than herself energized her for a moment.

  He relaxed again and directed his attention back to the bed. “Now why on earth would I do that?” He said mildly, but he was no longer smiling.

  Whispers turned and ran, but instead of leaving the room she jumped onto the dresser.

  Lying naked across her bed feeling as though she was dreaming with her eyes open, Audrey watched as her cat sat down next to the jewel box and studied the stone beetle sitting on top of it for a moment before slowly raising her right paw, and playfully batting it down onto the dresser. Then she batted it again, onto the floor.

  Falkon laughed.

  Consciousness flowed away from Audrey…

  …Returning abruptly when a muffled thump and a slight motion urged her eyes open. Whispers had jumped onto the foot of the bed and was walking toward her with something shiny dangling from her mouth… not a mouse’s tail… the gold chain trailing from the scarab amulet she dropped into her hand.

  She looked down her arm at her palm and the carved stone resting on it. In the corner of her eye she had seen Falkon rise. She closed her hand tightly over the hieroglyph for Becoming, clinging to her father’s love for her and her love for him. Love!

  Falkon commanded, “Let go of it!” as Whispers jumped off the bed.

  It was her turn to smile. “No,” she said, then caught her breath. There was suddenly a black panther in the room, crouching close to the floor and moving silently in for the kill.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Falkon clutched her wrist. “Give it back!”

  She ignored him, staring in horror at the deadly predator walking across her rug. None of this could be happening and yet she was definitely lying naked across her bed, her body dangerously drained of blood, with a vampire from Constantinople trying to steal her ancient Egyptian scarab amulet while a black panther prepared to attack. She had enough strength left to giggle.

  As though her amusement abruptly weakened him, Falkon’s painful grip on her wrist slackened.

  The panther leapt. For a sublimely elegant instant, Falkon appeared to be wearing the animal like a black cape held in place by its two front paws meeting at the base of his throat. Then she blinked and the scene was transformed from a fiercely sexy fashion shot to a shocking nature special. The panther’s unsheathed claws effortlessly tore open Falkon’s shirt and chest while it sank its teeth into his neck. The vampire looked surprised and let go of her wrist as he turned, or was twisted, away and fell straight across the floor. The great cat completed its kill with a guttural efficiency made even more chilling by the fact that she was lying helpless right next to it. Already she was half dead and now the man—the undead creature—who had been patiently watching her die was also incapacitated and would, it seemed, stay that way for longer than she had to live. Was she really going to die this evening? It didn’t seem possible. And yet Falkon was the only one who knew where the vial of snf-en-pet she needed to survive was.

  Numbed by loss of blood and a fear so great she barely felt it, Audrey watched the panther’s long sleek body twist around as it turned toward her. Jonathan?! It rose up on its haunches and planted its front paws on the edge of the bed. As its eyes met her eyes she thought her heart should stop, but instead it beat more strongly than ever as the wild animal ducked its head and licked her hand.

  Jonathan! Her fingers relaxed, blooming open on a surge of joy that exposed the scarab resting safely on her palm.

  Her boyfriend, her lover, her soul mate, a wolf, a hawk and a panther were all one magical being currently labeled Jonathan, who was suddenly standing beside her bed in the human form she preferred above all others. A line from a PJ Harvey song rang in her head, I can’t believe life is so complex when I just want to sit here and watch you undress as first his black turtleneck sweater went, exposing his firm chest and abd
ominal muscles, followed by his boots, socks and finally his jeans. Her eyes feasting on him, she felt mysteriously nourished by the mere sight of him.

  He took the scarab from her and leaning over her rested it gently against her chest as he slipped his hands beneath her hair and clasped the fine gold chain closed at the nape of her neck.

  “Thank you!” she whispered. But you left me alone for too long! It’s too late!

  “No, it’s not.” Kneeling on the bed, he spread himself beside her and, his chest level with her face, pulled her body toward his so her lips rested against the flesh over his heart. “Forgive me, Audrey, but this was the quickest way to be rid of the evil that’s stood between us for centuries.”

  “But there’s barely anything left of me,” she murmured, closing her eyes and inhaling his uniquely wonderful scent, basking in his almost intoxicating warmth. He sucked my blood for what felt like a really long time, stole most of my receptors, and the whole time I couldn’t stop coming. The weaker I got, the harder I climaxed. It made no sense at all and now I’m dying, I can feel it. Did you kill him? He must have the vial of eternal blood with him. It’s my only hope, Jonathan!

  “No, it isn’t.” He pulled back a little. “Who you are is contained in just a single drop of your blood.”

  Feeling his hand come between them, she opened her eyes, but what she saw was an animal’s furry paw and sharply curved nails raking his smooth human chest, sinking deep into his skin. His blood gleamed gem-like in the lamplight, infinitely precious with his life.

  “Drink it, Audrey.” He placed his human hand on the back of her head. “Do it!”

  He didn’t have to ask her twice. Closing her eyes again she licked his blood. At once she felt herself flowing away, traveling, it seemed, as fast as light to an icy wasteland she recognized as her own dying flesh… and yet, in the cold and the dark, she discerned a horizon glowing warm and welcoming… she struggled toward it, licking, limping, swallowing, jogging, sucking and running faster and harder until her arms and legs, her face and feet all felt the hot desert sun of Jonathan’s heart shining straight down upon them and the divine sensation of its life-giving force flowing through her, coursing along the tributaries of her veins and arteries like hundreds of river deltas seen from outer space setting the coarse of her life, past and future the two shores of an endless present because all was now, now, now, forever and ever and ever…

  “That’s enough.”

  A voice whispering in her ear brought her down, cut her off from the power flowing everywhere around and through her, supporting, caressing and totally loving her…

  “Audrey, stop…”

  She moaned in protest. She had no desire to feel the cold again, the fear, the loss, the dread…

  He pushed her away.

  She swallowed one last glorious mouthful of blood and then coughed convulsively, curling in on herself. She groaned in despair but then moaned with pleasure when Jonathan curled his body around hers from behind, wrapping his arms around her. It felt wonderful. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Is Falkon bleeding all over my rug?” It was no longer an effort to talk; she felt exquisitely alive cuddled in his arms. “Darlene is going to kill me.”

  He laughed softly.

  “Mm,” she moaned again, happily this time because the vibration of his amusement felt delicious.

  “Unfortunately, no,” he said after a moment. “I got rid of him, but only temporarily.”

  “But I saw you rip his chest and neck open…”

  “He got away, slipped into the pause, the space between our heartbeats. The infusion of your blood has made him stronger, more powerful than he ever was.”

  She opened her eyes, stunned. “But… but then why… I don’t understand!” She turned to face him.

  “He won’t come for you again, Audrey. You would leave a very bad taste in his mouth, not to mention that my receptors would undermine his control. You see, my love,” he caressed stray strands of hair away from her eyes, “I’m inside you now. He got away, but not before I enjoyed several very heady mouthfuls of the blood he stole from you. Your blood is mingling with mine and mine is mingling with yours. The real fun has only just begun.”

  She believed him. How couldn’t she? All he had to do was look at her for her to know everything he said was true. She didn’t have to understand exactly what it meant, not yet. At the moment she was more than happy to grasp just one very important thing—his cock, cradling it’s tender weight in her right hand. She knew just how to stroke it, slowly and lightly, and then more swiftly and firmly, taking pride in how quickly it lengthened and hardened. They kissed and he rolled on top of her, matching her impatience. She cradled his lean hips between her soft thighs for a teasing moment before spreading them so he could thrust as deep and hard as she wanted him to, her longing at once stoked and satisfied as she caressed his back and squeezed his ass. Turning her head to one side, she offered him her neck, taunting him with the sensual wound another man had inflicted upon her. He growled low in his throat and for a few unnerving moments his human skin felt different beneath her hands, more like an animal’s pelt. The pain she experienced was intense and yet irresistible as he widened the fresh punctures in her skin, angrily erasing the signature of Falkon’s teeth with fangs of his own. Submitting to him utterly, she bent her arms around her head and smiled languidly as one of his hands reached up and caught both her wrists, pinning them down as his other hand slipped beneath her. He slipped a finger into her anus, opening her up, then plunged a second finger through her sphincter, intensifying the sensation of her pussy sliding up and down his rigid cock. Nothing on earth had ever felt better and the more passive she became the deeper he thrust as though she was bottomless—as though her innermost flesh was the point where everything converged and, at the same time, ceased to exist.

  ⊕

  “How many vampires are there in the world, Jonathan?” They were sitting in her bath tub facing each other surrounded not by the cold mist of the Dragon’s Breath but by warm white bubbles.

  He was resting the back of his head on the edge of the tub, fully submerged in the hot water, his eyes closed. He had declined her offer of a bath pillow. He was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, she couldn’t tell if he sounded tired or profoundly relaxed. “I have no idea.”

  Disappointed, she bent her knees and cradled his soft cock between the soles of her feet. “You must have some idea,” she insisted.

  “There are probably countless vampires like your mother, who all eventually die because the immortal vampires who sired them offer a drop of snf-en-pet to only a precious few, and I imagine there are mere a handful of Falkons.”

  “I wonder if he discovered the vial of eternal blood he showed me, or if he stole it from the vampire who shared it with him.” Beneath the water, she brought her feet up and curled her toes against his chest, idly searching for his nipples. “He does seem rather fond of stealing other people’s possessions.”

  “It’s possible his sire was killed. Even immortal vampires are vulnerable when they’re young and haven’t yet developed or mastered abilities like Falkon’s.”

  “You almost sound as though you admire him.”

  He grabbed her ankles. “I respect his skills, not him.” He lifted her feet out of the water and slipped one of her big toes between his lips.

  “Stop it!” She giggled. “That tickles!”

  He released her. “It’s so nice to hear you laugh, Audrey.”

  “I’m laughing because I’m happy. It’s wonderful having you inside me all the time. And I’m not teasing. Falkon’s receptors made me feel selfish and restless and… hungry, hungry for bodies, everything about them, the scent, the texture, the blood, the… physicality. It’s hard to describe. Whereas your blood-”

  “Our blood.” He sat up, grasping both her hands beneath the water. “You lost a lot of blood, but I returned some of it to you while making up the differ
ence with my own. You now possess both your unique identity receptors and mine. Let’s just say my receptors are developing an intimate relationship with yours that supports and enhances their performance but in no way seeks to influence or alter it. That’s the difference, and it’s a big one. Think of it as being like a good marriage.”

  “A good marriage,” she echoed, attempting to drown out the sound of Wilona’s voice in her head saying derisively, “Don’t be surprised if he asks you to marry him soon.”

  Bracing himself on the sides of the tub, he pushed himself up.

  Gazing at him, she thought of Adonis rising from a foaming wave.

  “Come, Venus.” He smiled down at her. “The water’s tepid and we must dress for dinner.”

  “We should rinse off first.” She pulled the plug, turned the taps back on and waited a few moments before standing and turning on the shower.

  “I’ve never taken a bubble bath before,” he admitted, holding her close.

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t shift into a fish.”

  ⊕

  Whenever Consuelo was nervous or upset about something, she cooked a three, four or five course dinner, it all depended on the degree of her distress. Audrey wasn’t surprised by the veritable feast she enjoyed that night along with her father, Jonathan, Darlene and, on this special occasion, with the chef herself. The dining room was at its most resplendently cozy, with a fire crackling in the hearth and dozens of candles steadily burning in the black wrought iron chandeliers. The table was draped in pristine white linen and set with the family’s finest china and crystal stemware. Stuart had spent a considerable amount of time down in the cellar selecting the proper wine for each course, and after nearly every bite and sip, Audrey silently thanked God she wasn’t a vampire and could still relish good food and fine wine. She was enjoying these pleasures more than ever, her sense of smell heightened to the point where she nearly swooned every time Consuelo entered the room with the next course. Her tongue had also become more sensitive; the complexities of the different grapes and vintages were more apparent to her than usual. Was it relief and happiness? Jonathan’s spectacular receptors? All of the above? She didn’t care. All that mattered was being alive and surrounded by people she loved.