Cautiously, she dared to go to the sink where she dampened a washcloth and, watching the vampire watch her, wiped off what blood she could before gathering her clothes. As she dressed, she searched for a way to escape, but knew that she couldn't just run for the door. A glance at the clock told her it was not yet midnight. His powers would be at their fullest then.
But then again, Kieran did things no other vampire she'd encountered had done before. She asked, “How come you're able to move about in the daytime? I thought day-walkers were things Hollywood made up to sell movie tickets."
"Just as humans can move about day or night, so can we. After all, we were humans once ourselves. However, our vampiric abilities are strongest at night. Most choose to be nocturnal for that reason."
And there were a lot of sins one could hide in the blackness of night. She frowned at that thought.
He shrugged, picking up her discarded knife from the bed. After looking it over, he wiped it off and dropped it into a dresser drawer. “Of course, another reason could be that we're more susceptible to sunburns, although SPF 50 works wonders."
"I bet.” She rolled her eyes and slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers. Fully clothed in a T-shirt and shorts, she faced him. “Now what?"
He pulled out the only chair in the hotel room, turned it toward her. “Sit."
When she did, he took her hands and pulled them behind her.
"Hey, wait—"
"Thank you."
"Stop. What are you doing?"
He used her own bra, discarded from earlier, to bind her hands to the chair. Furious and panicky, she began to struggle again. She didn't stand a chance. He yanked the phone from the wall and used the cord to bind her ankles, first to each other, then to one of the chair's legs.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You aren't the only one who wants to get dressed, but I don't trust you to stay put while I clean up.” He smirked.
She scowled.
Kieran couldn't help but smile at the pissed-off frustration so evident on her face. He suspected he'd just thwarted some kind of escape attempt, but he didn't dwell on that as he went to the sink to wash off the blood from his flesh. The wound had already closed, which was typical for a non-fatal injury. By tomorrow night, no sign of it would still exist on his body.
It was this vampiric trait that kept him looking like a healthy man in his mid-thirties, the age he was when he was turned. It also gave rise to the immortality myth that made the foolish seek a vampire's bite as if it were the fountain of youth.
They didn't understand the costs, the price one's heart paid to watch loved ones die while he remained young, unchanged on the outside. Devastated on the inside.
After he cleaned the blood off, he donned his T-shirt, finished fastening the button fly of his jeans, and went back to face the angry stares of his captive. He tried to not let her disheveled beauty or the siren's call of her heartbeat affect him, but that proved to be a struggle. Her lips were still rosy from their earlier kisses, her hair mussed in adorable disarray.
He wanted to kiss her again, hear her soft, sensuous sighs, and turn those heated glares of anger into a darkened, passionate gaze. But he feared he'd be the one bitten if he tried. Not that that didn't appeal to him as well, he thought with a chuckle.
"What's so funny?"
He sat on the edge of the bed and studied her face. It was so expressive that, though she obviously struggled to hide her thoughts, he could still see the anger and uncertain worry. She was rather cute when pissed, but the fear was another matter. He wasn't human to her; he was a monster, something different to fear and hate.
Ignoring her question, he asked one of his own. “Who's the vampire killer?"
She blinked. “You are, or so you said. But since you are what you claim to hunt, I figure that was all a lie.” She yanked at her binds.
He narrowed his eyes. “I didn't lie but as I also said before, you are more than you profess to be. I know you post videos on a blog, videos of you and a male partner who kills vampires."
She sneered and turned her face away, but not before he saw the surprised terror in her eyes. After a long moment, she squeezed her eyes shut tight and took a deep breath.
"How did you identify me?"
"Does it matter?"
She looked at him.
If looks could kill...
"You did all of this, tracked me down, and fucked me just to get to my br—my partner? Well, you're too late."
He caught her slip, but didn't mention it. “What do you mean by ‘too late'?"
"You've had your fun, so fuck off."
He grabbed her upper arms and earned a heated glare. “Tell me."
"What do you think I mean, you bastard?” she shouted. “One of your murdering kind took care of the threat already."
Her admission surprised him into releasing his hold on her arms. He sat back in silence while he tried to determine the truth of her claim. Had some other vampire already killed her partner? Or was she just trying to protect her brother? The tears that welled in her eyes, which she struggled to hold back, convinced him she told the truth.
"I'm not a murderer, and the Horde is not my kind. One of these days, I hope you'll understand that not all vampires are alike. The crimes of one are not committed by all."
He reached toward her. She flinched, a fearful move that struck like a machete to his heart.
"Don't touch me."
How could he convince her that he meant her no harm? Although she turned from him, he ignored her command and tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb swiping away a lone tear that escaped her lashes.
"I'm not here to cause you pain.” He wasn't here to harm her. He wanted to protect her. Without her partner, she was even more vulnerable to the Horde, and she didn't even realize it.
To ensure her safety, however, he'd now have to do something he knew she would misunderstand. Nothing he said would change that.
She scoffed. “Just do what you came here to do then and leave."
He brushed his thumb across her full lower lip and waited for her to look him in the eye. Then he leaned forward, pressed his lips to hers, and felt her stiffen. She didn't turn away though, so he continued the chaste kiss. Another tear dropped from her lashes to slide down her cheek. Running the fingers of one hand through her hair, he held her head still while he laid a gentle trail of kisses along that cheek, her jaw, and downward.
Her whole body tensed. She knew what he planned. She wouldn't understand why, would probably be furious, but he had no choice now. He had to do it. She wouldn't allow him to follow her around without trying to kill him, and he couldn't leave here without a way to keep track of her. The only solution was to taste her blood.
He licked the fragile flesh of her neck, felt the protest of her rapid pulse beneath his lips.
"Forgive me,” he whispered. His grip tightened on her hair.
"No!” She bucked against her bindings, against him. Her fight was futile.
Holding her head still, he sank his fangs into her neck. The taste of her blood filled his mouth, an elixir that called to his most primeval vampire nature. More than the coppery taste that humans can sense, her blood offered a savory buffet to his tongue.
He wanted more, a physical need that waged war against his conscience. He could smell her fear mixed with forced arousal, a typical human reaction to a vampire's seductive bite. He sucked harder, once, twice, knowing that each pull would be a titillating tug on the most erogenous parts of her body. He confirmed her body's reaction to his bite by brushing his free palm across one breast to find the nipple hard and pebbled beneath the fabric.
She whimpered. Her struggles weakened. His impulse to take more grew stronger but, after one more swallow, he forced himself to pull back. He lapped at the puncture wounds with his tongue, closing his eyes while he savored the salty flavor of her blood and skin.
Assured the tiny wounds were closed and would heal well, he released her hair and moved aroun
d behind her.
Her head fell forward. Her chest rose with each deep breath she took. Her heart raced, still healthy and whole.
He reached for her wrists and began to loosen the binds that held them in place. When they were lax enough for her to get free, he retrieved his leather jacket and went to the door. Opening it, he looked back and saw her yank her hands free. She whipped her face around to glare at him, both feet still secured with the phone cord to the chair. A fresh tear explored the unblemished curve of her cheek.
He wanted to explain, but knew she wasn't ready to listen to anything he'd have to say, which was confirmed with her next words.
"Fuck you."
It would only piss her off more, but he couldn't prevent the devilish smile that curved his lips. “Don't worry, my dear. You can do that again ... soon."
He pulled the door closed behind him, but that failed to stifle all of the curses she screamed at him as he left.
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Chapter Seven
Cheyenne strapped on her brother's Ka-Bar fighting knife, the largest of four she wore, and reached for her night-vision binoculars. Dressed all in black, she donned a long coat to hide her weaponry before leaving the hotel room.
After Kieran's departure, she'd been unable to relax much, although she had showered and tried to sleep. As upset as she was over her encounter with the vampire, she tossed and turned and finally gave up. She was determined to not let him stop her from the hunt. It was one of the reasons she'd taken the speaking engagement—to do reconnaissance on the cemeteries in and around Baton Rouge.
Who knew? Maybe she'd get lucky and find his lair.
Still, she felt an icy chill along her spine as she crossed the street to retrieve the van, and her hands trembled after she got in, locked the doors, and reached for the steering wheel.
Orange numerals, 2:38, illuminated the van's interior with an eerie glow. The streets were dark, but far from deserted, which only proved the capitol city never slept.
Stopped at an intersection, she glanced at the city map on which she'd circled the locations of the oldest cemeteries. Deciding to stake out the closest one, she drove there and parked a few blocks from the iron gates.
Once there, she rested her head on the steering wheel, gathering her courage to get out of the vehicle, to move amidst the blackness in search of vampires. She struggled with doubts and blamed Kieran for it.
How could she not have known he was a vampire? Let herself succumb to his flattery, his seductive charisma.
She struck the steering wheel with a fist. She didn't need this shit; she needed to remain focused, devoted to one goal—killing vampires. All vampires. No second thoughts. No wavering. No hesitation that could get her killed.
A loud buzz made her jump, an abrupt squeal escaping her mouth before she could find the source of the noise.
Her heart raced. She dug in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.
3:00 AM. The time to which she'd set her phone's alarm just in case. Turning off the phone, she pocketed it and got out.
Stay focused.
After removing her long coat, she tossed it inside the vehicle and shut the door. She didn't want anything to encumber her ability to fight or reach a weapon, but she also hoped it wouldn't be necessary, at least not until the sun was high overhead.
She took notice of the direction of the cool night breeze and crept toward a spot that would put her downwind. Avoiding the street lamps, which helped to illuminate a foggy landscape of ancient trees, Spanish moss, and above-ground tombs, she hid at one corner of the cemetery where she would have the best possible view. The fog ebbed and flowed, eerie but not uncommon in the bayou country. The three-quarters moon, muted by cloud cover, provided just enough light to make her nervous about the ability to remain hidden.
But she refused to quit. She waited. Using her binoculars, she scanned the surroundings, especially the darker nooks and shadowy areas, and looked for any signs of the undead.
Time ticked at a slow pace. The horizon grew orange. Though darkness still gripped the landscape, dawn approached.
The adrenaline rush she normally got from such hunts was diminished as her mind wandered back to Kieran's ludicrous claims. Maybe she should've taken the night off, contacted Val, and done some research on Kieran, this vampire who seemed to contradict every fact she knew about the creatures. A vegetarian vampire wearing a cross, for crying out loud.
Stay focused!
She was just about to call it a night when movement caught her eye. Adjusting the binoculars, she saw it.
Dressed in dark clothing, outdated and worn, it weaved through the mini-city of gravesites. A bum or a vampire? She watched the mannerisms, tried to catch a glimpse of the face, the hands.
Yes. It was a vampire all right. Its movements were too cautious and smooth to be an alcoholic or druggie down on his luck. And the hands ... young and clean in appearance, not the type belonging to a person familiar with digging through garbage bins.
This was it. She needed to follow it from a distance, yet close enough to identify its lair. Vampires tended to return to what was familiar. They'd reuse the same resting place time and again. If she could find it...
Inching out of her hiding spot, she set her binoculars aside. She would retrieve them later. Right now, she had a vampire to track. As quietly as possible, she made her way deeper into the cemetery and kept the vampire in sight.
It seemed unaware.
A flutter and swish startled a gasp from her. She ducked behind a statue as a few bats took flight from the eave of a nearby tomb. She didn't dare move or peek to see if the vampire turned around. Though she let loose with a string of curses inside her mind, outwardly she froze and listened for any sign that the vampire retraced its steps. Her hand settled around the grip of her Ka-Bar at her hip.
She closed her eyes and held her breath for a second. Maybe two.
A frightening screech of laughter made her bolt. Eyes wide open, she didn't have time to think. She swiped at the closest vampire and realized there were three. The one she'd followed and two more!
A trap.
"Some hunter,” said one of the vampires, the tallest and fiercest. He leaped onto the top of a tomb and peered down at her. His voice became more sing-song and menacing. “Beware the hunter who stalks the vamp. Beware lone hunter of our trap!"
The others, one male, one female, roared with laughter. The pair circled her just out of reach while the speaker remained perched above them like a hawk on the hunt for easy prey.
She continued to twist and turn. Keep them in sight. The Ka-Bar and a second blade were in her hands at the ready.
"Three against one, huh? Are you so weak and pathetic that you need help to take me down?” She spat the challenge at the tallest and more vocal of the trio and swung her Ka-Bar, just missing one of the vamps. He leaped back a few feet and chuckled as if she'd proved his test of her defenses successful.
"So, which one of you chicken-shits wants to be the first to go poof?” She forced a grin and pointed her largest blade to the one on the rooftop. “How ‘bout you? Or do I scare you that much that you have to stay way up there and watch from a distance?"
The vampire's face contorted with rage.
She believed she could handle one alone, but if they all attacked at once...
The apparent leader screamed to the others who were closing in on her. “Back off."
The vampiress protested. “But, Marsalis said we're to bring her to—"
"I said the bitch is mine."
He launched himself at her.
She didn't even have time to swing her blade. One second, the vampire was headed straight for her. The next, he was ash falling at her feet.
"What the...?"
The cries of hell erupted around her. The two other vampires attacked something else. Their movements were so fast, Cheyenne caught only a kaleidoscope of colorful blurs amid the sounds of battle.
A sudden yank on h
er hair made her blindly swipe with her Ka-Bar. She caught the vampiress in the gut. The angry vamp let loose an animalistic cry. Blood poured from the large wound to soak her clothes. It wasn't a fatal blow but severe enough to gain Cheyenne her freedom. The vamp bared her sharp fangs and curled her long-nailed fingers into claws.
A second cloud of ashes exploded nearby.
The vamp's gaze shot that way and back at her. She hissed and fled. In the blink of an eye, she was gone, leaving Cheyenne to face the new threat alone.
Cheyenne spun toward the descending cloud of ash. Her heart and lungs succumbed to the adrenaline rush. Her hands trembled. She searched for ... something.
Friend or foe?
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Chapter Eight
"Show yourself,” she shouted with a bravado she didn't feel.
Out of the shadows, off to her right, a vampire stepped forth.
"Kieran,” she whispered.
Unfathomable relief engulfed her. She struggled against the compulsion to lower her knives. When he didn't move any closer, she gave up the fight. Her hands dropped to her sides, but she didn't sheath the weapons.
"You're unharmed?” he asked.
She took stock of herself, noticed a slight scratch on her arm, a tiny blood smear, but nothing serious. She nodded. “I'm fine."
He had some scratches, too, above his left eyebrow and a bloody stain on his sleeve. As she stared, though, the wounds over his eye healed, leaving behind bits of dried blood as the only evidence of their prior existence.
She should attack him, kill him for tying her up and biting her. But the anger she'd felt before was curiously absent. She couldn't ignite it, not after he'd come to her rescue.
"Why?"
He didn't pretend to misunderstand her question, but answered it in a calm manner. “Your vigilante endeavors have put you in danger. I've been sent to protect you."
"Protect me? You bit me!” He'd fucked her, too, but she couldn't fault him for that. He'd only done what she'd invited him to do.
His expression held a hint of regret in his frown. “I know. It was necessary for me to track you ... for your own protection."
Seduction's Bite Page 5