by Michele Hauf
The ache inside him was nearly unbearable. He’d sacrificed everything, and gained nothing but millennia to agonize about losing her again and ponder his destructive fate. Perhaps he should leave them all, and venture out alone. The last time, he’d lived in seclusion for nearly four hundred years. That would not nearly be enough this time. He’d realized that his desperate need for Eva, for Isabeau, was love.
Raphael pulled himself together, sensing that the next vampire was going to reappear. He leaned against the wall and watched as one by one they quickly rose from the coffin, their bodies reborn. Safe from the ravages of the plague, they filled the room, but there was utter silence. All eyes looked to the empty coffin, waiting for the sacred bones to emerge to complete the transformation ceremony.
Raphael stood next to the casket, waiting. In the precise place where he had lain, the bones of Siphidius began to reemerge, seeming to appear first like a thick mist that grew more and more dense.
The skeleton was now complete. Behind Raphael the gong sounded, ending the transformation ceremony that had been the salvation of his kind.
It was done.
Eva had not survived.
Why he had hoped this time, when it had not happened before, he wasn’t sure. He just had harbored the one small sliver of hope in his being.
He moved to turn away, already shielding his mind from the others. Only the briefest flicker of movement caught his eye. It was as if a thousand invisible spiders spun their silk wrapping the bones of Siphidius in a white shroud that grew and filled out, quickly becoming flesh. Raphael gripped the edge of the coffin, silently willing that something different, something impossible had happened this time.
A murmur rippled through the vampires as they crowded up, jostling each other to get a better look. Janus pushed his way through the crowd and stepped up on the dais, standing across from Raphael on the other side of the coffin.
Raphael caught his gaze. “What do you make of this?”
The elder vampire steepled his fingers, placing the tips to his mouth, then he shook his head. “It is nothing we have ever seen before. So there is no way to know what will happen. The virus has mutated, becoming more deadly. Perhaps the cure has changed, too, becoming stronger.”
If she had returned from death once, could she do so again? Slowly, a female form began to appear, and Raphael felt his granite heart begin to beat again. There was no mistaking the lips, the smooth curve of her cheek or the long lashes that lay in dark crescents on her pale cheeks. Eva had returned.
He waited for her to gasp, to take in a breath and wake. But nothing happened. The buzz of voices grew louder, like an angry hive of bees, disturbed and unsure of what to do next.
Raphael’s gaze flicked to Janus. “She’s come back, why isn’t she breathing, dammit?”
Janus’s mouth didn’t move as his red gaze bore into Raphael, but the words came through clearly. Just because she has returned, does not mean she has survived the sacrifice.
Raphael tore his gaze away from the elder vampire and let it linger instead on the sweet form of the woman lying before him. He gathered together his powers and focused. Between his fingertips a perfect red rose materialized.
He placed it gently between her smooth hands, and realized with dread that there was no pulse. He closed his eyes, willing his acute hearing to pick up any trace of a heartbeat, any stir of movement within her body, but all was silent.
A suffocating blackness crowded in, drowning out the hushed conversations of the others around him. She was truly gone. Again.
He opened his eyes to gaze at her current form one last time. If he was lucky, extremely lucky, perhaps in a thousand years she might come back again in another form. But even as the invisible vise around his chest tightened further and his throat burned, he knew that the waiting would be hell.
The petals of the rose shivered slightly. Had it been the air currents in the room? Or was it something else? He stared, thankful that he didn’t need to draw a breath so he could focus. The room faded around him, all his attention riveted on her slender white hands. He saw her finger move, the movement so subtle no one else would have noticed.
Raphael’s knees gave way and he sank down beside the velvet edge of the coffin, his face near hers. The thin skin of her eyelids quivered. It was all the encouragement he needed. He bent down to her, stroking her cheek. “Eva, darling. It’s time to wake. Don’t be scared. Don’t try to breathe. You don’t need to. Just open your eyes for me.”
Eva could hear the hot silk of his voice, could feel the heat radiating off him beside her, but she felt like she was bound in a block of cold wax, unable to move, unable to speak, and she realized with a growing panic, unable to breathe.
What was odder still was that even though she felt the heightened tension in every cell in her body, her heart wasn’t beating faster.
In fact it wasn’t beating at all.
Eva put every ounce of strength she had into opening her eyelids. They barely opened. But it was enough. She could see his face beside hers.
Then she felt the crush of his mouth on hers, far hotter than it had been before. But somehow the kiss was different, more intense, flowing through her, setting off sparks in every fiber of her being. The cold wax-like sensation that bound her began to melt, making movement possible.
Eva sat up slowly, and Raphael’s strong arms wrapped around her. Her ears heard each audible gasp of the others in duplicate, once in the room, another time in her head, like some strange echo.
A strange sweet liquid that tasted vaguely like almonds swirled in her mouth.
Eva.
Raphael’s voice echoed in her head.
Smile for me.
It was impossible that she could hear his thoughts, yet somehow she knew that’s precisely what was happening.
She spread her lips into a smile, noticing the strange sensation of longer teeth pressing at the edges of her lips. His eyes widened, and she felt him shake beneath her hands. He crushed her to his warm, solid chest, and it felt like coming home.
“Darling Eva. You’ve done it. I don’t know how, but you’ve done what no one else ever has. You’ve returned as one of us.”
I’m a vampire?
He pulled back a fraction, his face radiant as he stroked her cheek with infinite tenderness. “Yes.”
This time, she crushed herself to his chest, a fierce joy filling her. She was going to have forever with him. And somehow, in sacrificing it all, she’d been given everything she’d ever wanted.
She pulled back gazing in his eyes. “What about the plague? Are you safe?”
“You’ve broken it, my love. I don’t know how, but you’ve done it.”
Eva cocked her head to one side. “I think I finally understand.”
“What happened?”
“They sent me back.”
“Who?”
“The voices on the other side. They told me I still had something important to do and I couldn’t stay. And this time they told me what it was.”
He smiled, and it lit the entire room, making her feel more alive than she ever had before. “And what was it?”
“To love you forever.”
The Secret Vampire Society
Lisa Childs
CHAPTER ONE
IT HAD been a hell of an eternity.
Especially the past week. As he walked its dark streets, Conner West breathed in the scents of the city: gasoline and oil wafted from the asphalt; wood smoke and the aroma of grilled meats from the weathered brick buildings. From the people he passed, he could smell flowery perfume, musk and the sweet, coppery odor of blood.
He coulxd have flown to his destination. Literally. Or taken the underground passage. But night had fallen, without a trace of star or moon, so the darkness suited his mood. Suited him.
Maybe it was time to leave the city, move on like he had so many other times. But he had friends here in Zantrax, people who could commiserate with his situation. His pace quickened as
he neared downtown. Maybe Julian would be at Club Underground. No one understood guilt the way Julian did. And Julian would never leave Zantrax, not while the mortal for whom he felt such guilt and responsibility lived.
But as Conner had learned the hard way, mortals didn’t live very long, especially when they got involved with vampires. That was why he’d walked away from her a couple of days ago. He stopped along the sidewalk, at the same point where he’d rescued her from a heel stuck in a sewer grate. She had rewarded his heroism with a kiss. He licked his lips, tasting her yet … the tangy sweetness that was somehow familiar. Not that all humans tasted the same. Miranda hadn’t. And she was why he’d left the innocent mortal on the street.
So he wasn’t in to sweet young things anymore. She’d have to play this differently then. She’d have to show him who she was now; who he had made her. Undead. And bitter as hell about it. So bitter that she needed to destroy the man who had destroyed the life she’d known.
Despite the crush of the crowd and the volume of the music and conversation, she knew the moment he stepped into Club Underground. Her skin tingled, and her nose twitched as she caught his scent. Her scent. Even now, all these years later, he still smelled like her, like the blood he’d stolen from her. The blood she wanted back.
She turned on her bar stool and scanned the club patrons in search of his face. The crowd parted for him. Women gazed at him in awe, men in envy. Damn the man. With his golden blond hair and piercing blue eyes he looked more angel than devil. But she knew the truth because he’d consigned her to Hell.
He stopped, before he neared her, and folded his long, lean body into a booth in a dark corner of the club. People, standing because there were no other places to sit, blocked her view of whomever he joined. But she didn’t care who he was with now … because soon he would be with her.
“He’s not worth it,” a feminine voice advised.
Brandi, as she called herself now, glanced at the black-haired woman who sat next to her. “You know this personally?” she asked with a flash of emotion she refused to identify as jealousy. It was just irritation … that someone might derail the plan she’d spent years formulating.
The woman shook her head. “Not like that. I know better than to play with fire.”
Brandi hadn’t known that … until it was too late. “He’s that hot?”
“He’s that dangerous,” the woman said, leaning closer as if she feared his overhearing them even though he was nearly across the room. “He’s reckless and careless. Men like him put us all in danger.”
Us …
She was one of them now, one of the Secret Vampire Society—a secret they would kill to keep. She glanced around the club again. Not all the patrons were vampires or other creatures of the night. Some mortals frequented the club for thrills because they suspected the secret. But they didn’t know for certain; they couldn’t know and live.
Was that why he’d killed her, or had tried? Because he’d suspected she’d realized exactly what he was …
But she hadn’t known until it was too late … until she had become what he was.
“A little danger can be exciting,” she told the other woman as she slid from the stool, especially since he was the one in danger. Not her.
Long fingers closed around her arm. “Be careful.”
She patted the other woman’s hand. They weren’t friends; Brandi hadn’t been in Zantrax long enough to make friends. Not that she would have. She’d left her friends behind in her mortal life; they were probably all dead by now. Of natural causes. “I appreciate your concern …”
“But you’re not going to listen.”
She had waited too long while she’d spent years tracking him down at every underground club in the world, so that she could finally exact her revenge. “No.”
The air in the crowded club vibrated with excitement. Conner felt the vibrations in his veins, pumping hot and fast with his blood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a sensation—such a sense of anticipation. Something was going to happen tonight—something that would change everything.
“Are you all right?” Julian asked.
Conner glanced at the concern on his friend’s face. “Fine …”
But he wasn’t. He hadn’t been fine in more years than he could remember, but he’d made certain to never reveal his unrest or his guilt. He could afford no hint of vulnerability, for vulnerability in this society was a sure sign of weakness. And the weak did not survive.
Conner turned back to the crowd and scanned faces in search of the source of the excitement that pulsed in the air like the bass of the music. And he found her. He’d noticed her the minute he’d stepped inside Club Underground, his gaze automatically drawn to the sheen of her glossy red hair. But then Julian had waved him over to the booth before he could approach her.
Now she approached him with a sexy, hip-rolling walk that had his body tensing with desire … and anticipation. Black satin, in the form of a strapless dress, clung to every full curve. His breath shuddered out.
Julian whistled. “Here comes trouble.”
Conner grinned. “Hell, yeah …”
“You don’t need any more trouble, my friend.”
He needed to forget the trouble he’d already found. And making love with a woman like her would probably make him forget his own name let alone his old mistakes. Tonight, more than any other night, he needed to forget … even if he risked making another mistake. “Is she …?”
“One of us?” Julian asked. “She was talking to Ingrid at the bar.”
Ingrid never spoke to mortals. Hell, she wouldn’t even speak to the vampires who’d fraternized with mortals.
“Conner,” a throaty female voice murmured his name. She leaned over the table, displaying a tantalizing amount of cleavage as her full breasts tested the bodice of the black satin dress.
Regret flashed through him. If she was one of them, Ingrid would have told her who he was and what he’d done. So why had she walked over to him? He braced himself for a slap or worse … as she leaned closer. Her breath warm against his throat, she murmured, “I want to … dance … with you.”
His body hardened. Maybe he’d only imagined the suggestive emphasis she’d put on dance. But he did not imagine the attraction he felt for this beautiful woman. “What’s your name?”
Her lips curved into a sexy smile of pure amusement.
“Brandi.”
“Brandi?” He waited but she offered no last name, not even when he lifted a brow in question. Instead she reached for him. Her long fingers, with sharp red nails, closed around his hand, and she tugged him to his feet.
“Be careful,” Julian said, but Conner ignored his friend’s warning and followed where she led him to a dark corner of the crowded dance floor.
A throaty chuckle, like the purr of a dangerous cat, spilled from her red, glistening lips, as she turned toward him and looped her arms around his shoulders. “You don’t listen, either.”
“Either? Ingrid warned you to stay away from me,” he surmised.
She nodded and stepped closer, her breasts rubbing against his chest. “And when people tell me not to do something, it makes me want to do it that much more…”.
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Somehow I don’t think we’re talking about dancing.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” she asked as she pressed her body against his.
He swallowed a groan, again not wanting to betray any vulnerability or weakness. Something about this woman, despite her brazenness, reached out to him, eliciting a depth of attraction and emotion he hadn’t felt in decades. Half a century, to be exact.
“There’s music,” he pointed out, having to shout over the smoky bass and the husky voice of the singer.
“You don’t do other things to music?” she asked with a sexily arched brow. Like her shiny hair, her eyes glinted in the flash of the strobe light. Green with flecks of gold or silver that glittered.
“You really
don’t listen,” he mused, both relieved and intrigued. “I’m sure Ingrid told you all about me—about all the bad things I’ve done.”
She smiled and chuckled again, her breasts jiggling against his chest. “I know the bad things you’ve done,” she admitted. “You’ve been very naughty, Conner West. Maybe it’s about time someone finally punished you.”
The flesh at the base of Conner’s neck tingled, and not just because her nails skimmed over his skin. Julian had been right to caution him about this woman; she was definitely trouble. But it had been half a century since he’d gotten into trouble he couldn’t handle. A person was fortunate, or in his case unfortunate, to meet his match only once.
Worried that he already knew the answer, he asked, “And you’re the one who will finally give me what I have coming to me?”
Hell, yeah …
“I’m the only one,” Brandi promised him as she pressed closer … so not even a fraction of space separated her flesh from the taut hardness of his body. Her pulse quickened then raced with excitement … and attraction.
She’d worked too hard for this, waited too long to be distracted from her mission … even by him. Especially by him. Heat penetrated his tailored suit and shirt, and her skin warmed until she flushed. With desire? She drew in a breath, bracing herself to resist him and his sexy-as-hell charms. His blue eyes twinkled with fascination and mischief, and his grin widened, creasing his cheeks with deep dimples. God, he was handsome—insanely, unfairly handsome.
