Out of the Night

by Robin T. Popp

  “I know you’re awake,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “I, uh—no, I’m not.”

  His soft laughter was a low rumble beneath her ear, making her realize how much more comfortable he seemed to be at this moment than she. It made sense, she thought. He’d probably been in bed with hundreds of women, whereas her experience was limited to a few extremely forgettable episodes.

  “You’re thinking too hard,” Mac whispered, putting a finger under her chin and tilting her head up until she was looking into his face. Slowly, he dipped his head toward her and she held her breath, suddenly worried about things like bad hair, no makeup, and—morning breath. “Stop it,” he softly chastised, his warm breath fanning her face seconds before his lips touched hers.

  All thoughts vanished as her entire consciousness narrowed to focus on his lips, which, like the man, were firm and demanding. She was hesitant at first, but as the kiss grew more intense, so did her response. It seemed that her very essence centered on the feel of his body against hers and when he pulled at her shirt, she willingly allowed him to rid her of it. She almost moaned aloud when they came together again and she rubbed against the soft hairs of his chest.

  For several long minutes, he held her head and simply kissed her; long, thorough, devouring kisses. Then his hand was at her shoulder, caressing a trail down her arm until he cupped her breast, molding her fullness. She felt her nipple harden beneath his palm and when he rolled it between his fingers, her breath caught from the sheer pleasure of it. With a groan of impatience, he pulled her on top of him so that her breasts hung heavy in his face. He laved the tip of one nipple before taking it into his mouth to suckle.

  Each tug on her breast sent tremors shooting to a point low in her belly, and when she felt his erection against her upper thigh, she shifted so he was between her legs. The tip of his shaft teased the sensitized flesh at her entrance and she squirmed, needing to feel him inside her. As if sensing her need, he grabbed her hips and held her in place as he thrust up into her. The sensation of him filling her almost sent her over the edge. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as shudders spread through her.

  She rose up slightly with her knees, letting him draw partway out before lowering herself, ever so slowly, exulting in the thick fullness of him. She started to rise again, when her world suddenly tilted and she found herself on her back with Mac cradled between her legs, staring down at her.

  “Sorry, baby. My turn to drive.” With one hand braced on the mattress by her head, he used the other to hold her to him as he drove himself into her, over and over, each thrust more powerful than the last.

  If she’d been able to form a coherent thought, words like primitive and animalistic might have come to mind, but she was well beyond thinking. He held her mercilessly and with unrelenting urgency took her until the wave of emotion that had been building inside her crashed in a tidal wave of sheer ecstasy, ripping a small cry from her throat. She clutched Mac as if he were a lifeline and still he continued his pounding rhythm. Though she would have thought it physically impossible, the tension inside her built again.

  With her attention focused on the myriad of sensations coursing through her, she was barely aware of Mac’s warm breath on her neck. The first scraping of his fangs against her highly charged skin elicited the purest form of erotic pleasure she’d ever felt and at the first prick of her flesh, she gasped as the white-hot flames threatened to consume her.

  “Oh, God. What have I done?”

  Lanie teetered on the edge of what promised to be the greatest sexual experience of her life and couldn’t understand why Mac had suddenly grown still. “Please, don’t stop,” she begged, clutching at him.

  “I hurt you.” His body shook with the effort not to move.

  “No, you didn’t.” She wanted to cry or scream. “Don’t stop. Oh, God, please don’t stop.”

  “You don’t understand.” He sounded desperate. “I wanted to bite you. I wanted your blood.”

  He held himself above her, muscles quivering, and Lanie saw the determination in his face, as well as the desire burning brightly in his red glowing eyes.

  She faced a moment of truth. She could tell him to stop and he would, or she could trust her life to his ability to control himself. Taking his head between her hands, she pulled him down until their lips were inches away. “I trust you.” The gentle kiss she gave him was in stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions inside her.

  Still he hesitated. “Lanie, I don’t think I can . . .”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, looking up into his face. She knew that she’d never be with another man like him. This experience might have to last her a long time—maybe a lifetime. She wanted him so badly at that moment that she couldn’t play fair. She thrust her hips up against him, driving him farther into her. The light in his eyes grew suddenly wild and he growled, grabbed her to him, and resumed their lovemaking with heightened intensity until, once again, she felt she was teetering on the edge of a great precipice.

  When his mouth fell against her neck and his fangs pierced her skin, it was more than she could take. She screamed as her world shattered into a million brightly burning stars.

  In the next moment Mac thrust into her one final time and his own primal cry joined the echo of hers.

  Slowly, the tide ebbed and they lay there, spent and exhausted. Lanie smiled as Mac trailed kisses along the side of her neck before rolling off and pulling her to him so she lay tucked against his side.

  For several seconds neither spoke, then Lanie said the first thing that popped into her head. “Wow.”

  Beneath her head, she heard and felt the soft rumble of Mac’s chest. “I have to admit, it was pretty incredible.”

  “You didn’t hurt me, you know.” She wasn’t sure if she could tell him that the bite had been just the opposite. Rather than painful, it had been wonderfully erotic, but she was curious how it made him feel. “What was it like—drinking my blood?”

  “It was like drinking from a fountain of pure energy. One that tastes like the sweetest nectar.” He paused before continuing in an almost reverent tone. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

  His admission confused her. “If drinking blood makes you feel that way, then why did you throw away that blood I brought you?”

  “Because for some reason, Lanie, it’s only your blood I want. But don’t worry, love—I’ll never take it without permission. I promise.”

  At that moment, their door burst open with a loud crash. Suddenly alone in bed, heart racing, Lanie clutched the sheets to cover herself and wondered what the hell was going on.

  Mac stood between her and the door, somehow managing to have rolled out of bed without getting tangled in the covers. From somewhere close-by, he’d retrieved his gun and held it aimed at the intruder. Lanie thought he looked very intimidating, despite being totally nude. From the connecting door across the room, Dirk appeared, also holding a gun, but thankfully wearing jeans.

  For several long minutes, no one moved. Because Mac obstructed her view of the intruder, Lanie leaned to one side—and then promptly wished she hadn’t. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life and wished that she could simply disappear.

  Judging from Dirk’s expression and stance, he looked ready to pull the trigger and ask questions later. Afraid both he and Mac would open fire at any moment, Lanie knew she had to do something. Her options were limited by her state of undress, and so she did the only thing she could.

  “Mac, Dirk. I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t shoot my father.”

  Mac had never quite found himself in this type of situation before. By the look in the creature’s eye, Mac knew the vampire was there to kill him. Whether it was because Burton had sent him or because he’d found Mac sleeping with his daughter, Mac didn’t know.

  Whichever it turned out to be, Professor Weber was at a decided advantage—being dead already—but Mac wasn’t going without a fight. Weber had caught him with
his pants down, literally, and he felt his own temper flare and fought to keep it under control.

  He waited for Weber to make the first move, determined that the man wouldn’t harm Lanie. As he and Weber studied each other, Mac became aware of a steady litany of curses issuing from the bed and an unexpected spark of amusement shot through him. Most women would have cowered under the covers, but not his Lanie. Even now, he heard her struggling to get out of bed.

  “Lanie, stay there,” he ordered, afraid she might step into his line of fire.

  “I am not sitting here while you go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer on me. If either of you shoot my father, you’ll have me to deal with.” Mac heard the thud of feet hitting the floor and knew she’d gotten out of bed. She moved into his peripheral vision and he noticed that she’d managed to wrap the sheet around herself. She also clutched his jeans in one hand and shoved them at him.

  “You might want to put these on. The people in the hall are beginning to stare.” He didn’t move, wanting to see what the vampire was going to do.

  Lanie finally gave an exasperated huff and turned to her father. “Hello, Dad. I’m really glad you decided to visit, but couldn’t you have knocked first?” She gestured helplessly at the door hanging from only its top hinge.

  As she rambled on, Mac noticed Dirk’s nod toward the door and dipped his head once to acknowledge the message. He kept his gun trained on Weber as Dirk slipped into the room, lifted the door, and fit it back into its frame.

  Fortunately, Mac thought, passersby were too stunned at seeing a nude man holding a gun to notice anything unusual about the man with his back to them.

  Lanie continued to stand there, glaring first at Mac and then at her father. “Really,” she said, disgusted. “This is too much. Dad, stop snarling at Mac.”

  “I heard you scream,” her father gritted out between clinched teeth, his anger still quite evident.

  “You didn’t hear me scream,” she denied.

  “Hell, the whole hotel heard you scream,” Dirk muttered from off to the side.

  “See?” the professor bit out, sounding vindicated, and Mac made a mental note to shoot his friend later.

  He saw Lanie’s cheeks turn pink and a look of dismay cross her face. She sank into the desk chair and out of the corner of his eye, Mac saw her lower her head into her hands, muttering, “Oh, God. This is not happening.”

  “Knowing you were keeping company with a vampire, I naturally assumed you were being attacked,” Weber continued. “And when I get in here, that’s exactly what I find.”

  “Nonsense,” she scoffed. “Mac would never do anything to hurt me.” She said it with such conviction that Mac felt humbled.

  “Your neck is bleeding,” her father pointed out indignantly.

  “Yes, but as you can see, I’m fine.”

  “I don’t know why you feel you need to protect him, Lanie, but I know what I saw. He had you on the bed—”

  “In bed, Dad. We were in bed. And he wasn’t attacking me.”

  The professor’s tirade suddenly stopped, and the look on his face changed to one of horrified disbelief as comprehension finally dawned. Mac thought he might have been safer before, when the man thought he’d attacked his daughter.

  “You slept with him?”

  “Who slept?” She gave an unladylike snort. “Sorry, it’s a line from a movie.” She took a deep breath. “Okay, Dad, you need to calm down.” She stood up and walked over to Mac, poking him in the arm. “You need to get dressed, and don’t shoot my father. Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to shower and dress. When I come back, we can all sit down and have a nice little chat.”

  To the amazement of all the men there, she went to her duffel bag, pulled out clothes, and walked through the connecting doors into the other room.

  “Lanie,” her father shouted after her, “I’m not going to forget what he did to you.” His threat sounded dire, and Mac prepared himself for the worst.

  Lanie’s laugh surprised them. “That makes two of us. Wow!”

  Mac heard the bathroom door close, soon followed by the sound of the shower. The three men faced one another, in a standoff.

  “That is the most unusual woman I have ever run into,” Dirk muttered from the other side of the room.

  “You have no idea,” the professor muttered, and Mac thought he detected a spark of amusement replace some of the irritation in the eyes that locked on his. “But you do, don’t you?”

  Mac nodded. “Yes, sir. And I’d never do anything to hurt her—you have my word of honor on that.”

  The professor let out a sigh. “I suppose your word means something to you?”

  “Just because we served in the same military unit, don’t let Burton color your view of the rest of us,” Mac said. “Honor and integrity still mean something to most of us.”

  For several seconds he felt as if he were a fleck of something interesting under the professor’s microscope, as closely as the man studied him, but then the professor nodded. “It’s clear that my daughter cares for you greatly, and she is, usually, an excellent judge of character.” The older man’s shoulders slumped a little, as the fight seemed to go out of him. “I didn’t come to hurt anyone.”

  Mac didn’t lower his gun. He believed in honesty and integrity, but over the years, he’d developed serious trust issues. “Why did you come?”

  “I came to see my daughter.”

  Mac shook his head. He wasn’t buying it. “Try again, and if you lie, I’m going to shoot you—not once, but as many times as I have live rounds. Past experience tells me I’ll only need eight.”

  The professor’s already pale complexion grew more so. Mac didn’t think this man of science was used to such displays of violence—although the last week had probably given him a good introduction. “I did come to see my daughter, but I knew you’d be here. I know you’re after Lance—and me,” he quickly added when Mac gave him a pointed look. “I came to offer a trade—my life for information about Lance and his plans.”

  “Why should I trust you?” Mac asked.

  “Because I have nothing to gain and everything to lose if Lance survives. I don’t know what he was like when he was alive, but now he’s psychotic—and if he gets a chance, he’ll kill me.”

  “Why?”

  “I was developing a synthetic venom for him because he was killing the adult chupacabra with his constant abuse. They don’t attack humans by choice—only out of fear or when forced.”

  Mac nodded, remembering the war of emotions he’d picked up between the creature and Burton at Harris’s house.

  “The adult was dying. I wanted to get her away from Burton so she could find a quiet place to pass. I had a plan.”

  Mac was curious. “What was it?”

  “I tranquilized her so that when the sun went down, she was slower to come to life. When Burton found her, she was still stone, and I told him that she’d died. He didn’t stop to question it.” The professor paused, and Mac noticed a frown crease his forehead.

  “But something went wrong?”

  The question seemed to startle the older man. “Yes. I had to leave the adult alone for a while. I’d hoped she’d be safe if everyone thought she was dead. I was going to take her out into the country, where she could pass in peace, but when I got back to my lab—she wasn’t there.

  “At first, I thought Lance had done something with her, but later, when he came into the lab, he wanted to know what I’d done with the body.” The professor took a deep breath. “I told him that I had disposed of it, but the truth is—I don’t know where she went. I’m almost positive that she wandered off on her own to die, so in the end, I guess it’s all the same.

  “Anyway, I knew if I stayed around, Lance would demand I make more of the venom so he could continue to convert his former unit members into vampires. With me gone, he’s limited to the two vials he has—no more.”

  “Those two vials and anyone he feeds off of,” Mac pointed out.

&nb
sp; The professor looked surprised. “The people we kill when we feed rise up as vampires?”

  Mac and Dirk exchanged stunned looks. “Didn’t you know?”

  “No, I’m afraid I didn’t. I thought it might be possible, but I never had the opportunity to experiment.”

  “One of those researchers you killed rose up, and though it was difficult to tell at the time, Lanie thinks that he might have been more monster than human, so to speak.”

  “Well, yes. That makes sense,” the professor continued analytically. “Second-generation effect. The venom probably loses something each time it gets passed on. Oh, dear.” His eyes took on a distant look. “I wonder . . .”

  “What?”

  “Lance took up the practice of forcing the adult to feed from him every night. With each new infusion of venom, he grew stronger. Any vampire he created now . . .”

  He left the sentence hanging, and Mac didn’t like the implications. “How many has he killed himself?”

  “I don’t know. There were the homeless men when we first arrived. Hector had just awakened and needed to feed, although I think Lance killed at least one of them himself.” “I staked them,” Mac said.

  “Oh. Good. We started collecting blood from the homeless after that, rather than kill them. It became our primary food source. Lance ordered all of us to drink exclusively from the bags, but he’d go off on his own at night, disappearing for hours. I have no idea what he did during those times.”

  Great, Mac thought. They’d have to watch the news for stories of strange deaths—at least for a few days. He looked over at Dirk and caught his eye. He raised the jeans in his hand and waited for Dirk’s nod. Without taking his attention off the professor, Mac stepped back and set his gun on the desk while he pulled on his jeans. Once dressed, he breathed easier. Picking up his gun again, he addressed the older man. “You said you had some information?”