“Why am I so comfortable with you, male?” she asked me honestly and I didn’t sense flirtation in her words. There was general curiosity and even a smidge of wonder. “Do you know I have a stutter?”
I couldn’t help my lips from stretching. Evanora had had one too. She’d been the brightest bloom in the garden, burning like the sun she’d been so bloody beautiful, and it’d been her outward beauty that had attracted me first it was true.
Then I got to know her. And understood why all the males of the kingdom had fallen beneath her silent spell. And how it was that a female like her could have gone unmarried for so long. Someone so beautiful, surely every available bachelor in the realm should have wished for her hand.
But the devil had her tongue. Those had been the rumors bandied about her then. Superstitions had ruled the day in medieval Europe. She’d been cursed at birth, priests had decried her as Satan’s virgin and because of that she’d been a free woman in a land when the average female married at twelve. Because of her beauty she’d been one of the King’s favored pets, though even he had feared the wrath of the church and had never bed her.
Evanora had been a virgin when she’d come to my bed. In every life.
“I have a terrible way with words. I think in riddles, in complex imaginations, and yet I cannot speak with any sort of eloquence or thoughtfulness. Except when I’m with you, why is that?”
My lashes fluttered and I wondered if this was too soon? Typically she and I would wait months, perhaps even a year before the unraveling of our intertwined fates began. So much of Rose reminded me of Evanora, and yet, she was vastly different too.
I sensed a power in her that was fresh and new. Unique to this version of her alone.
“I…I am not sure th—” I said, quick to detour us back toward a safer place where she didn’t have to try and believe in the impossible.
Lifting a shapely brow, she placed her warm fingers upon my lips and my mouth tingled with the need to suckle at her sweet flesh. My fangs ached. I’d never drawn blood from Evanora, or any of her incarnations. She’d always abhorred the idea of being fed upon and I’d been only too willing to comply, so long as it meant having her.
Her eyes looked down at where her hand covered my mouth and I could almost swear that for just a moment there was an answering spark of heat in her eyes.
She gave a tiny shake of her shoulders and then she pulled her hand back and my knees felt weak. My body ached. Everything hurt. She was here. With me. Breathing my air and I was breathing hers.
We were together, at least.
And she seemed so soft. So tender. So willing this time, but I was afraid to believe it. Afraid that it was simply my desire that she should want me as desperately as I wanted her that had me seeing these things.
Paul had not wanted me. Paul had rejected me and all that I’d stood for. I could not bear Evanora’s rejection again. Not this time.
The room was so quiet, outside even my haunts were still. Nothing moved. It was like the universe itself held its breath.
She sighed and then gave a soft laugh that didn’t feel funny at all. “I’m tired, male. Bone deep tired. I always have been. Just never really knew why. It’s like a malaise that’s gripped me all my life. But I could never sleep it off. Could never get over it. It was simply there, a thing to be worked around, but never truly dealt with.”
We still gripped hands. I was aware of the strength of her hold. The intentionality of it. She was letting me know that she’d not done it by accident and I was so, so tired too.
Tired of fighting my needs and feelings for her.
Tired of pretending I felt nothing when I felt too much.
So I lifted our joined hands and brought her hand back to my mouth, so that my nose pressed against her knuckle.
She sucked in a sharp breath but she didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. Merely stared at me with awe shining in her eyes.
“Oh, my Rose,” I murmured deeply and from the very bottom of my heart. “Would you do me the very great honor of lying with me?”
I thought she might hesitate, bite her lips from nerves or even deny me outright. But she did none of those things.
“I will, male.”
That was all she said, then she was the one pulling me toward the bed. She was the one to lay down first and kick off her heels. Her shoes were once more on my floor, in the place they always belonged. Then she patted her thigh and a groan I’d never expected to hear fall from my lips spilled off of me as I crawled wearily, but hopefully toward the only soul I would ever know and love again.
I laid my head upon her thighs, wrapped my arm so tightly around her so that she might never leave me again, closed my eyes and I slept.
I dreamed.
I dreamed of her and I dreamed of me.
Of our past and the burning hope for our future.
Chapter 3
Rose
I sensed that he dreamt, which surprised me. I thought vampires could only sleep during the day, and that they’d be as stiff and cold as the dead when they did. But he was warm.
Very warm. And his breaths brushed against my thighs, breaking me out in a wash of goose pimples. I’d thought to close my eyes and rest too, but I couldn’t seem to make myself do it.
I glanced around his room, marveling at the old-world beauty of the décor. Nothing looked new. And it wasn’t as though I wasn’t used to seeing ancient scrolls and lead lamps, fancy crystal and china, I was a witch after all and had been entrusted with my own legacy passed down from generation to generation. But Dracula’s décor didn’t just look old, it looked positively medieval.
There was a coat of arms with an Arthurian looking dragon upon it. A chartreuse empire waisted gown encased in double paned glass on display that looked very, very old and worn, but well cared for.
All around me I saw bits and baubles of a life that was long and well lived. Many items were feminine in nature, some weren’t. He had lots of items encased in glass, one was of a man’s pocketwatch with filigree engravings on it. It looked newly polished the way it gleamed in the low lighting of the room.
And I couldn’t help but wonder who all these mementos belonged to? Everyone knew of Dracula’s Casanova ways. It was said that everywhere he was spotted in history he had found himself a new great love, or twenty. That he had roaring parties full of orgies and blood, music and the sensually carnal out on full display.
That’s what they said anyway.
But he was here. In my arms. Sleeping the sleep of the dead. Curled up beside me and whimpering softly beneath his breath. I did not see a Casanova at all, but a being very near on the verge of being broken.
There was a gentle vulnerability in him that drew me like a moth toward flame. And when I was around him I did not feel vulnerable. Looking back on my life there was never a time when I hadn’t felt vulnerable. Naked and exposed, wishing I could hide myself away from the world even as I desperately yearned to be a part of it.
But with Dracula, a male who exuded potent magnetism stronger than anyone I’d ever known in my long life, though I should feel weak with him, I did not. Because the way he looked at me, how I knew he hung on every word I said. He let me know by his actions alone that for some strange reason he found me as endlessly fascinating as I now found him.
More to that point he’d fallen asleep with me. A supernatural who if I should stab even him through the heart would cease to be. Forever. Only a fool, or someone who had implicit faith in another, would so casually drop their guard as he had with me.
I couldn’t understand why he’d done it. And yet… I glanced down at his profile, heart thumping erratically in my chest as I studied his almost innocent expression of peace and contentment, there was no part of me that wished the male ill.
My sisters would likely not feel as I did.
Though we were all supernaturals, there were some of us who’d grown a legend for obvious reasons. Dracula was such a one.
It was said that in hi
s early days he’d pillaged and ransacked an entire village before setting it ablaze, killing every last inhabitant. So consumed by madness that he’d even set upon the corpses afterward to bleed them dry of any blood that might yet remain.
Stories were told that he wasn’t merely a man, but that he could take on many animal forms. A bat, a wolf, even something that was a mix of the two. That for many years he’d haunt the woods of his Transylvanian homeland destroying anyone fool enough to cross paths with him.
I wasn’t a terribly brave woman. I was rather fearful in truth. Making sure to cross at crosswalks and only when the lights said I could. Or, never opening my door to strangers. Especially of the male persuasion. My sisters and I had survived the great witch trials because of my extreme caution, and though Blue Moon Bay wasn’t in the slightest bit scary, many of my cautious attitudes remained still.
To anyone who knew me even the slightest bit, to find me now lying in a strange male’s bed, the king of beast’s bed, in fact, and brushing my fingers through his long silky hair, would come as quite the profound shock.
I was surprised at my own behavior myself, and yet… no part of me wished to stop. Always I’d walked past this manor, crossing the field of his ancestral home, staring up at the darkened windows and wondering about the enigma that was the biggest monster of us all.
In my head I’d created something nearly mythical. But in meeting the man he was nothing at all as I’d imagined.
Maybe the stories of his brutality and violence weren’t true either? Maybe… he wasn’t actually a monster?
I frowned as he whimpered. What did he dream of?
I bit my bottom lip, pulse banging so hard that it made me breathless. I could discover his dreams. Could slide inside his mind, see what he saw. I was strong enough that he’d not even notice me there. I often dream walked through the town.
Because in dreams I could speak my thoughts without breaking out into a terrible stutter. I could be the woman I’d always imagined myself being. I was free.
I’d never minded sharing dreams with others, never really considered it a violation. It wasn’t as though I interfered, I just wandered and saw great and marvelous things that paled to the reality of my own world.
So many of the monsters in this town were legends, I’d always considered walking through their minds to be a great honor and should they not want me there I never intruded. I only slipped into the minds of those who did not mind. If they wanted to keep me out, they could and I did not harass them farther.
But with Dracula there was a part of me that was nervous I should not do this thing. That I might see more than I’d bargained for. And I wasn’t sure if that would be a good or bad thing.
He whimpered again.
“Ssh,” I murmured almost tenderly to him as I brushed my fingers down his cheek. “Ssh, now. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe, male.”
Instantly his tremblings ceased and his long dark lashes fluttered as though he might awaken, but he did not. Instead, he slid his fingers through my own and then oh so slowly drew our hands up to his temple.
I frowned, not sure what he was doing.
“I know you wish to, dragā, I give my consent.” He murmured in the silky voice of his that was full of dreams and exhaustion still.
“What?” I asked, more like squeaked. Had he read my thoughts?
His eyes did open now and they were shot through with veins of red. His weariness was not an act. He was truly exhausted and yet I could still not fathom how he could be so instantly comfortable with me that he would allow me to see him at his most vulnerable.
His dark brown eyes glittered like rich earth as his hot gaze caressed my face and my body broke out in a wash of exciting tingles.
With our hands still joined he reached for my cheek and cupped it, his grip was smooth and warm and I couldn’t help my sigh.
“You are so different this time, my Rose. None of this makes sense to me either. But if you trust me, then I will trust you too. For that is how we’ve always been, you and I.”
“Always?” I laughed lightly. “We’ve only just met.”
“Have we?” He asked, finally breaking free of my hold so that he could lift up on one of his elbows to stare openly and honestly at me.
I missed his body already and ached for him to cover me as he had. But I swallowed and checked those words before I embarrassed myself. My sisters had always teased me that I fell in love far too quickly and bloody hell but were they right. Mortifyingly so.
What was I doing?
Why was I here?
I’d come to his house to secure my business. Which I’d done. But that didn’t mean I belonged in the master’s bed. This wasn’t like me. Even as often as I fell in and out love with others, I’d never have done something like this before. This was so unlike me.
His hot palm landed upon the top of my thigh and I shivered, bearing down on my molars as my nostrils flared and my nails dug crescent marks into my palms. It was agony to fight these strange and thrilling desires coursing through me.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted him to touch me too. Everywhere.
His eyes turned even darker if that was possible. And I knew he knew what I was thinking.
“My Rose.” He murmured thickly, his voice deep pools of desire so razor sharp I felt it like a blade against my hot flesh. I shuddered, my lashes flittered like hummingbirds wings upon the tops of my cheekbones.
I shook my head, fighting what my body wanted. What my brain wanted. And I didn’t know why I should fight this, only that it made no sense and so I must.
He sighed heavily. “Maybe I’ve gone about this wrong. I should not have pushed this. Rose, please do not shut me out. I could not bear it again. I am sorry if I come on too strong, it is only that…”
His words trailed off and despite my internal protestations to remain strong and not get sucked into his hypnotic pull, I found myself doing just that. I looked at him and what I saw was not at all what I expected should be there.
There was no vampiric hypnotizing happening here. No burning flame in his eyes. No rhyming cadence of voice and song meant to scramble my senses and draw me into his silky spider’s web of lies and deceit.
There was only a man. A beautiful, immortal male staring at me as though I were the very stars and sun of his universe.
I shivered and hugged my arms to my breasts, drowning in the depths of his stark and raw honesty.
“What is it, Dracula?” I found myself saying, surprised by my calmness. My words were low and husky, almost sensual. And again I was struck by how different I was around him. How… empowered I felt.
Not that I would cower before any man, but one such as he would have made me a frightful mess of stuttering nerves. I’d have long since found a reason to run away by now, no doubt with humiliated tears streaming down my face. And yet I wasn’t doing that at all. I was barefoot. On his bed. And wishing that his warmth covered me once more.
What was wrong with me?
His thumb began to trace back and forth upon my thigh and I released a small, shaky sigh even as I subconsciously began to lean in closer to him. My goddess, vampires were amazingly addictive. I could see how they’d gained their reputation as beautiful killers. Even without trying he was bespelling me. Would I be strong enough to resist him if he’d actually tried?
I wasn’t sure.
And that thought should be so much scarier than it actually was to me right then.
“I would never harm even one hair upon your head, sweet Rose. Not one. Never you.”
My mouth tipped downwards. “Do you read minds then?”
His mouth twitched up at the corner as he slowly shook his head. A sadness visibly pinched his brows. “No. Not really. But I am extremely long-lived and I’ve grown very good at reading body language.”
His shoulders were still rigid and his eyes would suddenly not meet my own. And somehow I knew that he lied to me.
“You can read minds,” I said
again. “You’re lying to me.”
A breath puffed out of him that sounded a little like humor. “Gods, you’d think by now I’d learn that with you I’ve never been able to hide things.”
I went instantly tense, imagining all manner of things, but his palm flexed and he was vehemently shaking his head back and forth even as he crawled to his knees in one lithe predatory movement.
“No, my love. No. Never imagine that I would harm you, in any way. My words make such little sense to you because you cannot remember, though I sense you are stronger in this life. In this version of you.”
“What?” I was still tense, but didn’t seem to want to move. His touch soothed me, my brain and my body were at complete odds. My brain was telling me to run away, to get up and go. Flight or fight and I wanted to fly. But my body was different.
My body knew something that I clearly did not.
It refused to budge, refused to obey me. It wanted him. Wanted him to crawl all over me and finally teach me the wonders of coupling and joining and… heat.
A dark shudder rolled through me as I finally accepted the truth, I did want him. Even while my mind couldn’t make sense of this strange pull and fascination toward the man, even as I knew I should not want this thing, I did. With every ounce of my being.
I wet my lips and instantly his hot gaze homed in. A soft groan spilled off his tongue and I thrilled at the idea that I seemed to hold such awesome power over this infinitely powerful male.
“Oh, Rose. The things you make me feel. You wake me up, my dragā. You always have. There is nothing in this life or the next or the next that I will ever want more than you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh even as I trembled at the terribly exciting and dark thought that I could hold that kind of sway over him. “Generva always says men will say anything to get what they want from you. I guess she was right after all.”
He frowned. “I do not lie to you, Rose. Never have. Never will. That is not our way.”
As much as it thrilled me to hear him speak so, it also unnerved me and finally my traitorous body did begin to obey me. I scooted out from his touch. His face instantly dropped and I may have felt a moment’s regret about it, but I needed to get a grip on myself. Whatever this thing was happening here, it had to be dark magick of some sort. His magnetism working against my common sense, because I was not this woman. I was not like this.
Fangs and Stardust (Hidden Tales of Blue Moon Bay Book 3) Page 4
