Claiming the Evil Dead

by Mary Abshire

  "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice laced with tender concern.

  I rubbed my hand over his chest where my face had been, checking for any drool. He snatched my hand and gently squeezed it.

  "Are you all right?" he repeated, brows pinched with worry.

  I started to answer when a massive cannibalistic growl shrieked from the depth of my stomach. Get Sigourney Weaver, the alien within me wanted out. I don't know what was more embarrassing—drooling on him or the loud hunger scream from my stomach. I closed my eyes as heat engulfed my head and the tips of my ears inflamed.

  Drake chuckled. "If you're hungry, I can get the leftover food in the refrigerator."

  "Yeah," I croaked. "That would help." My scratchy voice sounded foreign. Maybe an alien really had invaded my body.

  Drake smiled as he slid out from underneath me. I fluffed the pillow under my head as he left the bedroom.

  I inhaled a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. How long had I been sleeping? How did I get here? I glanced at my right. The light on the nightstand was on. The drapes covered the window, so I couldn't determine if it was night or daytime. I lifted the blanket and discovered I was in my underwear. How did I get like this?

  Drake entered the room carrying a plastic container with my chicken wrap and a bottle of water. As he set the bottle on the nightstand, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My head started spinning out of control instantly.

  "Careful." He dropped the container of food on my lap and caught me before I fell back and hit the headboard.

  The room tilted sideways. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. Drake held me with one hand while he propped pillows behind my back. Then he gingerly leaned me back.

  "Maybe you should take it easy for a while," he said.

  "I'll be fine." I always came through bad situations. Life was never easy.

  He sat at my side, then took my face into his hands. A scrutinizing gaze met my eyes as if he were some kind of doctor. "I recommend that you take it easy for a while."

  "Thanks, Dr. Drake. I'll do the best I can." I smiled.

  Frowning, Drake rose. He brushed his fingers through his hair as he walked in front of the bed. Finding the container of food on my lap, I popped the plastic lid. The sight of the wrap made my stomach growl again. Starved, I picked it up and took a big bite.

  Drake parted the curtains. The loud swooshing sound of the rollers on the track called my attention to the window. Lights glowed from tall buildings in the dark city. Maybe I hadn't been asleep that long after all.

  "What time is it?" I mumbled, one side of my face packed with food.

  Drake walked over to the nightstand. "Three forty-three."

  I swallowed. "How long have I been sleeping?"

  "A day."

  "A whole day?"

  He picked up the bottle of water from the nightstand, then sat on the edge of the bed next to me. "You lost a lot of blood." He removed the plastic cap from the refreshment before he handed it to me.

  I stared at him in disbelief as I took the bottle from his hand. Had I really slept through a full day? I took a long swig and glanced at my arm. The memory of Alexander tearing into my flesh came to me in a flash.

  "My arm." My pinkish skin didn't have a single scratch on it. "It's healed."

  "We can talk later. You should finish eating."

  My stomach tightened. I glanced down at the chicken wrap in my hand. After a full day without food, no wonder my stomach screamed at me. But the memory of my encounter with Alex suppressed my appetite. He had broken my neck, then ripped into my flesh. So much pain. So much blood.

  "I'm not hungry anymore." I handed him the bottle of water.

  "You should eat more. You are still weak." His voice was stringent.

  "What happened? How did I get here?"

  "Eat more and I will explain."

  My gaze ventured down again. Seeing how the wrap was still in my hand, I nodded in response.

  "After I left you at the door, I headed for the back, looking for Alexander. By the time I reached the back wall, I heard you say he was leaving. I was on my way to you when someone slammed a bottle on the floor and started a fight. It was impossible for me to get through the crowd."

  My eyes grew as I anxiously waited for him to continue. I remembered hearing the glass break after Alexander walked out of the bar. "What next?"

  "Eat."

  Lifting the edge of the wrap to my mouth, I nibbled off a small piece. Drake watched me with me with overbearing eyes while I chewed.

  "And?" I probed.

  "Take another bite."

  Huffing, I bit off a regular-sized portion of the wrap.

  He continued. "The fight spread, and I couldn't get past it. I climbed over the bar and rushed for the door. When I didn't see you, I knew you had taken off after him. I raced across the street, following your scent. Then I heard you yell. I ran straight for you and found you standing in the street."

  I swallowed. "I remember hearing you call my name and then seeing you."

  Drake brushed my hair away from my eyes and over my shoulder. "You were bleeding profusely from your arm."

  "I passed out."

  "You should not have gone after him. He could have killed you."

  "I didn't want him to get away," I spoke up in my defense.

  He shot up. "I told you to stay by the door." His face was tight with emotion. "You agreed to follow my instruction and you didn't. I lost one partner, Jessie. I don't want to lose another."

  The fury in his tone scathed me. Maybe I shouldn't have left and followed after Alex. I couldn't have destroyed him. But I had to try to stop him from getting away. Didn't I?

  "I'm sorry. I was just—"

  "Don't," he snapped at me, cutting me short. He paced near the bed, brushing his hair away from his face with his hands. "Your arm was torn up, Jessie. He ripped several veins. I tried to heal you as fast as I could. You nearly died in my arms."

  "Looks like you did a fine job of healing it," I mumbled.

  Staring into his dilated eyes, I realized how he’d healed it. His saliva and blood contained the right components to heal anything, which meant he had to have rolled his tongue along my torn flesh. Ew! He probably drank my blood, too. Double ew!

  Wait a second. I vaguely recalled Drake telling me to drink something. I thought it was a dream. Thinking it over, I remembered the thick fluid tasted metallic. Oh no, oh no-no-no…

  The mother of all curse words popped into my head. Yet, I couldn't be mad at him. He had saved my life. So what, I drank a little of his blood. It wouldn't change me. I glanced at the chicken wrap in my hand and my stomach tightened. I couldn't eat anymore or even think about putting food in my mouth. I dropped the remnants of the wrap back in the container and set it aside.

  Drake sat down on the edge of the bed. "Tell me what happened. How did he tear your arm?"

  I glided my hand over my arm as the memory returned. "All I could think about was stopping him before he could get away. He tried to run over me with his car. After he hit the dumpster, I smashed the window. That's when he grabbed my arm and sank his fangs into it. I remember gouging his eyes with my fingernails and he let go of my arm." My lip curled in disgust as I remembered sinking my nails into the squishy centers of his eyes.

  Drake lowered his gaze and turned his head away from me.

  "What?" I asked. "What is it?"

  "He saw you heal." Drake's voice was low.

  "Uh, yeah."

  "He tasted your blood," he said coyly.

  "Yeah. So?" I didn't see an issue.

  His eyes met mine. "He knows you are a demon now."

  I shrugged. "I don't see how that is a problem. He doesn't know my capabilities."

  "He knows you are working with me. That will give him cause for alarm. He is older than I am and smart. He will want to know why you are with me. And because he has tasted your blood, he will stop at nothing to get you."

  "Wait a minute," I said, b
rows furrowing. "If he's older than you, doesn't that make him stronger?" Damn it. Why hadn't he told me this before?

  "He's not that much older." Drake grunted. "Don't worry, I can beat him in any fight."

  Don't worry? How could I not? Maybe he could beat him. Maybe not. Once again, he failed to give me all the facts. I didn't know what to believe anymore. Confused, angry, and fearful, I looked away from him.

  "You have to trust me, Jessie. I will beat him."

  He slid his hand along the side of my face and stared into my eyes. Fear lurked in the depths of his dark orbs. How could he be afraid? Vampires didn't fear. As his energy flowed from his hand and penetrated my skin, clarity popped into my head. The way he touched me, spoke to me, and gazed at me all made sense to me now. He more than liked me. He wanted me. Had I been so blind?

  Swallowing, I looked away from him. "I, uh…I need to clean up." I couldn't look at him. Not now, not when we were both half naked and emotions were running wild.

  "You should try to be still."

  I threw the cover off me and slid my legs over the side of the bed. "I've been beaten, broken, and munched on. Excuse me, but I feel the need to bathe."

  "Let me fix a bath for you." He rose before I could get another word out.

  "Are there bubbles?" I asked, meeting his gentle eyes. Okay, I couldn't resist.

  His lips curled. "Maybe." He leaned over and pressed his lips to my ear. "Wait and see."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Feeling clean and refreshed, I stepped out from the bathroom clutching a thick cotton towel around my body. The stiffness in my bones and the aching in my muscles had lessened thanks to Drake's hot bubble bath. My body recovered quite well, inside and out, considering I had almost died.

  After I patted away the excess water from my hair, I donned a Snoopy nightshirt with matching Woodstock shorts. It was too early in the day to go out, not that I wanted to go anywhere. Lounging around seemed like a good idea to me, even if only for a little while.

  Voices from the television down the hall sparked my curiosity, so I went in search of Drake. Upon entering the living room, I found him sitting in one of the chairs facing the TV. He was leaning forward, elbow pressed into his knee, and his chin propped up by his balled fist. The scowl on his face revealed discontent.

  "What's wrong?" I moved closer to him.

  The top of the hour news started on the television. The female reporter stated they had breaking news of another child abducted. Holding my breath, I sat down on the sofa.

  The local news lady reported in an over-dramatized voice how a six-year-old female child was taken from her home in the Lincoln Park area after someone broke into the home and brutally murdered her mother. Police believed the abduction occurred twenty-four hours ago.

  As the news anchor cued the reporter on the scene, I glanced over at Drake. He hadn't moved. As if he sensed me watching him, his eyes flashed to me. The tautness in his face ebbed for a few seconds until the reporter began talking again.

  I returned my gaze to the television. On the screen, a young African American man stood with a microphone in his hand. Behind him was a row of townhomes hidden by trees and line of yellow police tape marking the area as a crime scene.

  "The victim's name was Teresa Fitzgerald and from the information I've been given, the estranged father, a Michael Brimstone, called the police when he arrived at the home yesterday morning to take his daughter to school. When Ms. Fitzgerald didn't answer the door or repeated calls from Mr. Brimstone, he went inside and found his ex-girlfriend dead and his daughter missing. Police have questioned Mr. Brimstone and released him. He is not a suspect at this time. Now, based on the evidence the police have uncovered, they believe someone abducted the child. Her name is Samantha Fitzgerald, and police are asking for anyone with information to contact them immediately. As you can imagine, Mr. Brimstone is very distraught and would like his daughter returned home as soon as possible."

  The child's picture flashed on the screen. I stared at the photograph with teary eyes. The beautiful little girl had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and an innocent smile that warmed any soul. In the picture, she held a stuffed cat in her arms.

  My heart thumped fiercely against my chest. A little over twenty-four hours ago, we had run into Alex in the Lincoln Park area. Could it be possible he was the abductor? It had been well over seven days since the last child abduction occurred, and it had been a male. Drake said the next would be a female.

  "It's him…isn't it?" My voice was shaky. Tears welled in my eyes.

  "It would seem plausible."

  My stomach felt queasy. I covered my mouth with my hand, praying the chicken wrap wouldn't reappear. "How can we be sure? How did the mother die?"

  "The police have not released the full details. I browsed the other channels, and from the mixture of reports, they say she died of a laceration across her throat."

  I paused, thinking of the right words to say. "Is that…normal?" I wished he could read my mind just this once. Any more of a graphic description would trigger an eruption that wouldn't be pretty.

  "If a vampire is in a hurry, they would cut the throat or sever the head. It prevents humans from finding out we exist."

  The pit of my stomach churned as I soaked in the details. I leaned over my lap and buried my face in my hands. I might have been able to stop him. Had I stopped him, a mother would be alive, and a little girl would be safe.

  "This is my fault." Dread, loathing, and sorrow overwhelmed me all at once.

  I closed my eyes, letting the tears roll down my face. Beside me, the chair whined and soft steps pattered over the hardwood floor. I wiped the tears away. Drake was kneeling on the floor in front of me.

  He gripped the sides of my head. Securing my undivided attention, he brought my face within an inch of his. "It is not your fault. Even if we had stopped him, he might have already taken her and killed that woman. You did not lead that woman or her child to their deaths. You had no part in what he has done."

  His firm voice drilled into my soul, lulling me. His loving gaze quelled my troubled heart.

  I closed my eyes and considered his words. We had no way of knowing when Alex killed the woman and took the child. It could have been before we arrived at the Beaumont. Still, the thought of another victim squeezed my heart. Damn Alexander. Damn him to an eternity of Hell.

  I opened my eyes and found Drake still close to me. His succulent lips were dangerously close to mine, tempting me. Imagining the touch of his mouth upon mine, I licked my upper lip. His eyes lowered and he watched my every move.

  "Drake," I breathed out.

  His gaze lifted to meet mine. His pupils were completely full and mesmerizing. I couldn't look away.

  Before my next breath, he sealed his lips over mine. They felt cool, firm, and needy. He tested my willpower with his tongue, flicking mine and then withdrawing his. Relinquishing all my constraints, I slid my tongue into his mouth. He greedily accepted it.

  Drake stole my breath away, but I didn't care. Slow, gentle strokes of his tongue stimulated my desire. I laced my fingers through his soft hair and cradled his head in my hands. He skimmed his hands down my neck and over my chest. My heart thudded as he kneaded my breast and pinched my nipples between his fingers. Shards of ecstasy spread within me. Oh, how I wanted more of him.

  I spread my legs and leaned back slowly, pulling him closer to me. He crawled between my legs, gliding his hands over my thighs. His cool touch over my feverish skin sent erotic tingles straight to my groin. A surge of heat within me rose up faster than a flame catching oxygen. My body begged for more.

  I gasped for air as he settled onto the sofa in front of me, gripping my thighs. He pressed against me, and I moaned softly. He felt so good and he was hard in all the right places. Allotting time for air to fill my lungs, Drake's kisses rolled down my chin and neck.

  "I want to taste every bit of you," he said, his smooth voice rolling over me like warm velvet. I bit down on my
lip as he grazed his tongue down my neck.

  I tilted my head back against the sofa. "Yes. Please. Taste every bit of me."

  He lifted my shirt over my head and dropped it behind him. Lifting a breast in his hand, he latched onto the perky nipple. He sucked and nipped it between his flat teeth, sending provocative ripples from my breast to my groin. I raked my nails down his back and coiled my legs around his hips, encouraging him to give me more. As if he could read my mind, he sucked on my nipple with increased fervor.

  I moaned, overwhelmed with need. He lifted his head and captured my lips again in a searing kiss. Meshing his body along mine, he pressed his stiff erection against me. The need to feed my burning desire consumed all of me—my mind, body, heart, and soul. I needed him more than I needed air. Maybe I was a tad bit sex starved.

  Crawling backward on his knees, he pulled back, but kept his hands on my breasts. My breaths were becoming regular, as regular as they could be. For a brief moment, his hands left me while he resumed a kneeling position on the floor in front of me. Drake reached forward, catching the edges of my shorts and underwear. Slowly, he tugged them down my hips and dragged them over my thighs, kissing my legs along the way.

  Having separated the clothes from my body, he kissed my left foot, starting with my toes. With gentle care, he worked his way up my leg, kissing and slithering his cool tongue along my heated flesh. The burning need inside of me flamed to a thousand degrees as his cool, wet tongue crept closer and closer on the inside of my thigh. My heart pounded with anticipation.

  With my legs spread wide, he dove his generous tongue into my sex. The soft stroke of his tongue cooled my hot core, and I bit down on my lip, stifling a moan. He licked me again and I quivered. Again, and again, the delectable caress of his insatiable tongue sent wave after wave of pleasure rippling through my body. I moaned and gasped, grazing my fingers through his long, soft hair. More, please, more! Maybe he sensed my burning need, because he continued with the zeal of a stallion. Licking and stroking, deeper and faster, he devoured me with tongue and lips. Exploding in erotic ecstasy, I screamed. The violent throb felt oh so good, and I never wanted him to stop.