by Martha Woods
“It was just art, surely it could not have been that big of a deal?”
“Vampires are very vain, if you have not noticed,” he says.
I laugh. “Oh, I noticed.”
She painted something that offended the head of a coven. They came for her and while he was many other things, a warrior she was not. It was over before I could even try to defend her.”
“They were able to kill her? Even though you were bonded?” I ask.
He nods. “The bond doesn’t keep anyone from killing one’s bonded partner. They would have felt some level of pain when it happened, but the bond was broken the moment she was gone. It is more useful as a defensive tool when they are using torture or control, or when they are aroused. You felt what it was like to try to consummate with Damon…”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. “But I’m not a vampire,” I say. “And Damon didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary, that I know of…”
“Humans do not suffer any effects from the bond. Only magical creatures,” he says. “And you, my beauty, are a magical creature.”
“Oh the sweet things you say,” I answer. “I am sorry about Farren. I am sure it was hard to lose her.”
“It felt like having my heart ripped from my chest. And while my heart had not beat for a very, very long time, the pain was as real as if it had.”
“I wish I had known this about you,” I say. “Knowing about you, about your past…it makes you seem more…human. More like a real person.”
“I may have some human traits,” Vincent says, “But I am not a human. If I need to adjust my approach to make you more comfortable in this bond, please tell me.”
“Dinner and flowers might be nice,” I mutter.
“I do not eat human food,” he says.
“I’m aware,” I say. “It was a joke.”
“I am also not adept at humor,” he says.
I snicker as I pull away with a big yawn. “That’s an understatement. But it is okay. No one is perfect.”
I wander to the refrigerator and pull out an apple. After taking a bite, I ask, “Do you miss her? Farren?”
Vincent’s jaw tenses. “I miss her every day.”
This breaks my heart for some reason. Vincent is not an outwardly emotional creature. He is loyal and as caring as a vampire can be. He is sexual. He is strong. But emotional? I would not have imagined him carrying this level of heartbreak for so long.
“I had no idea,” I say.
“How could you have?” he asks. “I did not tell you.”
I swallow and nod. “Well, we are bonded and there is no going back. But I have to be honest, Vincent, I don’t know how all of this will work with you and me and Damon. I love you both. Maybe in different ways, maybe in ways I’m not aware about yet, but I know I love you both. So it’s as simple and as complicated as that.”
“I have never asked you not to love him,” Vincent says.
“I know you haven’t,” I say. “You acted as if this was simply a sexual attraction between us, but you lied, right? You lied about your feelings, and now that they are out in the open, does it change how you view my relationship with Damon?”
“It does not,” he says, but his jaw twitches as he looks away, toward the window, like he’s ready again to jump right out onto the street below.
“You’re a liar,” I say. “But we’ll unravel it later. I’m tired.”
“I will go, then,” he says.
“Vincent,” I say, “I hope he’ll move on someday. With someone who deserves him. I can’t imagine we can ever be one big happy family. It just doesn’t seem realistic.”
Vincent shrugs. And then he really does go right out the open window.
Chapter 15
Damon sits on the couch watching something sports-related when I wander in.
“You staying up?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, not looking up at me. “Not real tired. Maybe because I slept for several days.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I’m pooped, though. It’s been a long few days.”
He shrugs. “Okay. Goodnight.”
I stand awkwardly. He’s acting weird. “What did you and Alexis talk about?” I ask.
“I just wanted to thank her for coming over to heal me,” he says.
“That’s it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “She thinks you’re being unfair to me. She flat out told me I should move on from you.”
This makes my blood boil. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it still pisses me off. “With her, I suppose?”
He shrugs again.
“Stop being a shrugger and just talk to me,” I say.
“What do you want me to say, Amy? I wasn’t even gone that long and you went off and practically married another man. A fucking vampire, for Christ’s sake.”
“We talked about this,” I say. “I bonded with him to protect myself. And you said we could work it out, that you understood.”
“Well, maybe I don’t. Maybe we can’t.”
“I don’t know where this is coming from, Damon,” I say as tears burn in my eyes. “But I am going to go get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”
“Fine,” he says. “Goodnight.”
“I love you,” I say. It comes out almost as a challenge.
He looks up at me and I see whatever anger he’s holding subside a little. His features soften just slightly at the sight of tears streaming down my cheeks. “I love you, too, Amy. I do. We’ll talk more tomorrow. This is all just…a lot.”
I wrap my arms around my chest and pad off toward our bed. I expect to fret and feel anxious but I end up falling asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. I fall into a deep, dreamer’s sleep.
I’m in a room I’ve never been in. There is a large bed with black linens. The walls are grey, the lighting soft. Things hang from the walls and ceiling – straps and chains. I’m unclothed and touching myself.
Suddenly, Vincent and Damon are both there, both gloriously naked, their masculine, chiseled bodies on full display, including hard, long erections. They both touch themselves as they watch me.
“You are ours,” Vincent says. “Ours and only ours.”
“I am,” I say seductively.
“We can share,” Damon says. “We can be together.”
They move to either side of me as their hands and lips explore my breasts and between my thighs. The result is almost sensory overload. I have never had two men at one time; have never even considered it.
A finger pulses at my clit, two more enter my wet slit. Lips and teeth play at my nipples and my back arches at the stimulation.
“You like this,” Vincent says. “You have two loves and now we are both here with you.”
I moan in response, my body reacting to the touching, to the words. I feel the build of orgasm already.
“Say it, Amy,” Vincent orders. “Tell us you want us both.”
“I want you both,” I breathe. “I love you both.”
Vincent’s teeth sink into the sensitive skin above my breast. The endorphin rush flows through me, releasing me from the tethers that bind me to the world. The orgasm comes, then, my pussy clenching around the fingers inside of it, my clit pulsing, pulsing, pulsing. I can barely breathe as Vincent pulls blood from my body, as my body reacts.
“Look at me, Amy,” Damon says softly.
I force my eyes open, my vision unfocused until I see Damon’s face, so handsome, his green eyes so bright and alive. He leans in and kisses my lips, his tongue tracing my lips, begging for entry. As our tongues intertwine, he rolls me toward him, onto my side. He slides easily inside of me, taking on the continuing pulses that my orgasm provides. It just won’t stop, this ecstasy, even though Vincent is no longer biting me.
At my back, I feel Vincent press against the length of me, his cock hard against my backside. Another thing I have never considered, but I want them both inside of me. Vincent’s fingers play at that forbidden entry as he rubs wetness from my cunt there
before inserting one finger, then two. He pumps in and out, readying me.
“Breathe, Amy,” he says in my ear.
As he replaces fingers with the hard rod of his cock, I gasp. The feeling is alien, unfamiliar. He starts to move and I nearly cry. Two men inside of me, loving me.
I feel the familiar slice against my shoulder, Vincent feeding once more, sex and violence and love intertwined as he takes me. Again and again I come. I come. I come.
Vincent wraps his arm across me, grabbing at Damon’s ass, pushing him further inside of me. Damon’s eyes fly open, and then close again. He kisses me even more passionately as Vincent’s fingers explore the muscles of his ass.
Both men pick up the pace, pumping in unison as they cry out their release in groans and hisses. Vincent’s teeth release from my skin as he falls to his back, me on top of him. I am spent, cannot move. Damon isn’t done, though. As Vincent bites his own wrist to feed me, replenish what he took. Damon crawls between my legs, lapping at my wet cunt, still throbbing with the aftershocks of orgasm.
I spread my legs as his eager tongue sucks and penetrates, pushing me up the mountain again. I suck at Vincent’s wrist, his free hand stroking at my clit.
Damon works me up again and when I fall, my vision goes black. I have never, ever felt this level of pleasure in my life.
As I wake up, sweating, I realize this was all just a dream. A silly dream from the mind of a woman who wants it all. Who wants two men.
Damon is asleep, having come to bed at some point in the night. He is fast asleep, curled on his side, facing away from me. It feels like he’s built a wall between us suddenly. I can’t help but wonder if Alexis said something more than what he shared. Or, perhaps, he is frustrated that we cannot make love now that I am bonded to Vincent.
I think back on the dream and my insides go molten. Perhaps we could make love, if Vincent was there…
No, that was too taboo. It might be acceptable in a dream, but in real life? I could never be with two men at one time, doing the things we did. It makes me blush just thinking about it.
I slip out of the bed, careful to let Damon sleep, and head to the bathroom. I shut the door and light a few candles before running myself a nice, hot bath. It feels so good to soak – my muscles practically sing as I sink into the hot water. Really, my body probably needs more sleep but that dream left me feeling odd. Aroused for sure, but also unsettled. There is no way I could go right back to sleep after experiencing something so intense. It felt real.
Truly, I can’t get it out of my head. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if the three of us could actually be together. Would it be possible? Could Damon and Vincent get used to sharing me? Would it be so wrong?
The world acts as if the only acceptable way to have a relationship is through monogamy, but I have never quite felt like it was right for me. I have always felt that it was not natural for two people to be bound to only each other for their whole adult lives. I have seen so many people get together and break up, so many people’s lives virtually ruined by bad breakups. It just seems stupid to think that we could ever be happy with just one person.
But perhaps the three of us together could work? Vincent has just shared that he can be fluid. If Damon were open to it, perhaps the three of us could find something that worked for us all?
No. It’s too crazy. And besides, the idea of happily ever after doesn’t play well with me right now, with creatures on the brink of war.
The water is long-cold when Damon shuffles in, bleary-eyed, as the morning sun starts to peek through the bathroom window. He tilts his head, confused to see me in the tub.
“You okay?” he asks, heading to the sink to brush his teeth.
“I had a strange dream,” I say. “Couldn’t go back to sleep so I came in for a soak. Now I’m a prune.”
I get up and out, wrapping up in a towel and leaving the bathroom so Damon can do the rest of his morning business. I dress and sit on the edge of the bed, feeling out of sorts. When he emerges, he asks if he can take me out to breakfast.
We walk a few blocks to one of our favorite breakfast spots. The staff know us by name and seem thrilled to see us, after a long hiatus. We order and sit, sipping our coffee, for a few long minutes.
Eventually, Damon says, “I love you.”
My eyes go wide.
“What?” he asks. “Not what you were expecting me to say?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He chuckles. “I figured as much. Look, Alexis spilled her guts last night. She said she thinks she’s in love with me. She wants me to leave you.”
“That’s nothing new,” I say. “Though I didn’t realize her feelings were so intense. She loves you, huh?”
He makes a face. “Meh. I don’t think so, not really. I think there’s something else going on with her, but I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s just loneliness. Maybe it’s an ego thing, or a jealousy thing. But I don’t buy that it’s love. Infatuation, maybe, but not love. And either way, I told her I don’t reciprocate her feelings. I told her I love you. And that I’m committed to seeing this relationship through.”
“Through to what?” I ask. “This bond…it really changes things between us.”
“Does it?” he asks. “I mean, it’s sex, Amy. And sex is just one part of a relationship.”
“That’s…very mature,” I say. “But I like sex. And I like it with you.”
“Well, don’t get me wrong,” he says, grinning, “I like sex with you, too. But we can do…other things, I think. Right? We can get creative. And we can get to know each other again. And it will either work out, or it won’t. But I won’t be the one to end it.”
We meet each other’s eyes and have an intense moment before our breakfasts are delivered, breaking into the chemistry that crackles between us.
As we eat, I think about my dream again. Color rises to my cheeks, a fact that Damon does not miss.
“What’s making you blush over there, chief?” he asks, pointing his fork at me.
“I, uh…remember I said I had a weird dream?” I ask.
He raises one shoulder.
“Well, uh…it was…sexual. I was with both you and Vincent at the same time.”
He laughs at this. “Oh, a ménage dream. Sexy. Tell me about it.”
I look around the diner. “Here?”
“Yeah,” he says.
I recall the details of the dream, noticing how his eyes darken as I go. He stops eating to listen and adjusts himself as I finish. I feel a little smug, actually. Serves him right to be uncomfortable here in public, when he’s the one who made me tell the story in the first place.
“Phew,” he says, diving back into his food. “I need to think about kittens or furnace repair or something.”
“Have you ever…had more than one person at a time?” I ask.
He looks up. “That is not kittens or furnace repair, Amy.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “Have you?”
“I mean…yes. With two women. It was hot, not going to lie.”
“Would you ever, the way I described it? I think maybe…maybe if Vincent is there and into it, then we could get past the bond and be together. All of us.”
“I can tell you that there was a day not too long ago that I would have said hell-to-the-no to having sex with another dude in the room, especially if the other dude was also a blood-sucker. I’m not sure how I’d feel about being naked with another man, about sharing you with another man. But honestly, if we all get through this war, I’ll try anything. I want to be with you, and I know he comes as part of the package. Like I said, we’ll have to get creative.”
We hold hands across the table. I feel hopeful for the first time in too long. Maybe these two competing loves can work together. Maybe we can all be happy.
Chapter 16
Time is ticking away. I have only eighteen hours left on the ultimatums I received and as I watch very tentative creatures enter the warehouse space w
e’ve warded to hide our meeting, I see just how much work it will take to get these disparate groups to work together against the common threat that Alvin Quick provides.
I watch everyone come in with their hands on their weapons, looking suspiciously around the space, counting exists, looking for traps. They sit segregated by clan or den or coven and then by race and species. It is quite a sight, actually. I am not sure there has ever been such a large gathering of creatures in Los Angeles. I ask Vincent what he thinks.
“There have been times when they have had to fight side-by-side, but it has been a very long time and creature memory can be short when it is convenient,” he says. “This is an impressive gathering.”
There is a group of witches along one side of the space. Mostly women, but a few warlock men, as well. Tabitha his there, looking much better, flanked by a woman who must be her mother. All-in-all, they total maybe thirty. I scan the faces and don’t recognize any repeats from Quick’s rally, which gives me relief. But also, so many showed for his rally. So many witches are under his thumb. It makes me embarrassed, honestly, that my people would so readily band with someone so bigoted. This can’t be all of the witches who are against his actions?
Damon stands in the back. Five Hunters gather near him. They all scowl and openly hold weapons. I nod my head, a pleading look on my face and he turns to ask them to sheath their weapons. They all look wary, but do as he asks, and I feel just the tiniest bit of tension release from my shoulders.
Vampires, all slick-looking and wearing designer fashion, sit looking bored at the back of the room. The werewolves, tougher-looking and wearing jeans and leather, gather in another section. There are clear lines of demarcation. This is not a group that is comfortable with each other. But there is hope, because they are here. Hundreds of them.
