Both men glanced over at the night table. Tiny eggshell fragments of glass littered the table and the floor around it. Another patch of glass lay on the carpet beneath the ceiling light. “They exploded,” Garret said thoughtfully. “Every one of them.”
“So?” Morgan demanded.
“That’s what woke you. After Ramirez possessed me, I couldn’t speak. I begged Elena to do something, so she shattered the bulbs.”
Morgan’s eyes widened as he whitened. “No. She loved God. Why would He reject her?”
“No one was more devout than Elena,” Garret agreed. Needle shafts of pain stabbed him as he imagined their lover as a lost soul. “She endowed any number of schools and churches over the centuries. Her philanthropic foundation operates half a dozen hospitals all over South America.”
He and Morgan had even converted to Catholicism at her insistence -- not that it had taken much persuasion after they’d seen how much her faith meant to her. God had sustained her through too many years as Ramirez’s victim.
Yet her strict Catholic upbringing had also tormented her when it conflicted with the sensuality of her vampire nature.
“It’s not that God rejected her,” Beth explained, frowning thoughtfully. “It’s more that she feels she has things she must do before she can go to her reward.”
Morgan’s expression went grim. That, at least, he could believe. “Like avenging herself on Ramirez.”
“No, she wants to make sure you don’t get yourself and Garret killed,” Beth told him tartly. “She’s afraid for you, Morgan.”
He rocked back on his heels, his expression startled. Garret wanted to cheer. Finally, a crack in his suicidal obsession with revenge.
“But I failed her,” Morgan said, his voice low and hoarse. “He raped her, cut out her heart, and I could do nothing.”
“What could you have done, given how old and powerful that bastard is?” If Beth still feared Morgan, it didn’t show in her level gaze. “Elena knows that. And after experiencing what he can do…” She glanced away, as if unable to hold their gazes any longer. “He just… crushed me. He took me over. There wasn’t… I couldn’t do anything.” Her voice broke.
Garret signed. “You’re not a vampire yet. There’s no way you could keep a vampire that old from taking you over once he forced a blood exchange. He could make you say or do anything.” He flicked a glare at Morgan. “As you well know. Give the girl a break.”
Beth rose to pace, raking shaking fingers through her long, tangled hair. “I watched my hands pick up your sword. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. He lifted it over your heads, and I couldn’t even scream.” Tears welled in her eyes.
As she drew in on herself, covering her mouth with one hand, Morgan sighed. “Garret’s right, it wasn’t your fault. There’s no way any fledgling can keep his sire from seizing control.”
Beth squeezed her eyes shut as if fighting a scream. “I thought the whole idea of my sleeping with you was that he wouldn’t be able to do that to me anymore. He got to me anyway!” She glared at Morgan. “And you almost killed me!”
Garret winced. “We’re not finished with the process, Beth. You’ll have to be practically drained while we feed you our blood. Then when you drop into a coma, we form a deep link with you and --”
“He didn’t do any of that!”
“He must have,” Morgan pointed out, “or he wouldn’t have been able to get at you in your sleep.”
She spun away and stood rigid for several long seconds, as if fighting some battle. At last, she asked in a low, careful voice, “If you finish it, will you be able to break whatever he did and keep him from taking me again?”
“Yes,” Garret admitted, “but it’s going to take time.”
Beth turned to face them again, a snarl on her pretty lips. “Fuck that. I will not risk him grabbing me again. Finish it now!”
“Poppet.”
“Don’t ‘poppet’ me, you jerk! You don’t know what it was like!”
“I do.” Morgan’s voice was low and certain. “And we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he can’t use you again.”
* * *
As Morgan shouldered away from the doorframe, Beth fought the instinct to back away. She remembered far too clearly the cold look on his face when he’d stood over her with the sword, considering whether it would be safer just to take her head. The fact that he’d just finished making love to her only made it worse.
When he reached for her, she flinched. Morgan arrested the gesture and lifted a brow. “You just said you wanted this.”
“And you just came really close to beheading me.”
His expression closed. “You want Garret to do it?”
The word “yes” hovered on the tip of her tongue, but then she remembered Elena’s fierce love for him -- and the way his mouth had moved on her own with such trembling restraint. He’d been so hungry, yet he’d controlled it for her sake. Beth squared her shoulders and stepped closer. “No. You can be trusted.”
He smiled slightly. “Which isn’t quite the same as saying you trust me.”
Gathering her courage, she slipped her arms around his powerful neck. “No, but I’m getting there.”
He bent his head and kissed her. It was a surprisingly sweet kiss for such a lusty man, with a hint of apology in its tenderness. She wasn’t entirely sure whether he was apologizing for what he’d done or for what he was about to do. But he felt delicious either way, tall and warm against her.
And despite everything, safe.
Beth leaned into his strength, surrendering herself with a sigh. Gently, he turned her in his arms, nestled her back against him. When he took her chin in one hand and tilted her head to the side, she offered no resistance. Velvet lips touched her hammering pulse.
He bit her fast, his arms tightening with practiced skill. Without the distraction of arousal, it hurt more than she’d expected, the pain sharp and aching.
She couldn’t suppress a whimper as Morgan began to drink. As if to offer solace, he stroked his hands up her body to cup her bare breasts. Gently, skillfully, he milked her nipples.
Then Garret was in front of her, going down on his knees. He parted her sex with two fingers and slipped the wet length of his tongue between them. Beth moaned, the sound blending with Morgan’s deep swallows and the flick of Garret’s tongue on her juicy flesh.
By the time they carried her to bed, her knees were weak from both blood loss and arousal. Morgan draped her lax body across his and sliced a thin cut across his chest with his thumbnail. He guided her head to the slice, and she lapped at it as the room spun.
When she finished, Garret bent over them and kissed her slowly before taking her throat.
It wasn’t long before she slid into unconsciousness on a long, dark wave of sensuality.
And blood.
* * *
Beth dreamed strange dreams. She was back in the basement where Ramirez had held her. It was dark, and thirst clawed at her. She begged him for water, calling through the high stone walls -- hadn’t they been cement before? -- but he only laughed at her. His amusement rumbled through the blackness.
Her mouth felt like cotton, and her lips were cracked and bleeding. She sucked at them, desperate for any moisture at all. It was cold, so cold. She could see her breath.
“She’s dying.” Garret’s voice, coming distantly through the stone. “If we don’t break through her psychic barriers, we’ll lose her.”
“I’m not so sure they’re hers,” Morgan said. “They feel more like Ramirez to me.”
Beth dreamed they had pickaxes, and they were trying to chop their way through the wall.
She could hear the ring of steel on stone. But just as she started to beg them to hurry, something… slithered.
Beth turned to look, but the room had grown enormous, and she could see nothing in the darkness.
Sliiiiither. Every hair rose on the back of her neck.
A snake. There was a huge snake in the cell wit
h her. “Morgan!” She tried to scream, but the words emerged as a hoarse croak. “Garret -- there’s something in here.”
“They can’t hear you.” Ramirez’s voice, whispering out of the blackness. “I’m keeping them out.”
The slithering sound was very loud now. Something scraped, like claws on stone.
“I told you, you’re mine.” Lights flared bright and red in the darkness. Horror crept over her as she realized they were eyes -- two glowing, slit-pupiled eyes, opening wide. “If I can’t have you, I’ll see you dead.”
The dragon opened its jaws and shot a gout of roaring flame. Beth yelped and tried to scramble away, but she couldn’t move. The fire poured over, incinerating her skin as a hot wind swirled away the ash. She shrieked in helpless agony.
“Beth!” Morgan roared. The stone exploded, and he and Garret charged through. They were dressed in plate mail armor like medieval knights, the engraved steel shining crimson in the light from the dragon’s fire. Yelling war cries, they leaped at the Ramirez dragon, heavy swords swinging.
But Beth could feel the flames still licking at her flayed muscle. Dying. I’m dying…
“No!” Elena appeared, glowing in the darkness like a star, tight determination on her beautiful face. “You will not die. Mis angeles need you!”
Small bright hands touched her agonized face. A white mist rolled over Beth, magical and cooling, extinguishing the flames, regrowing the charred skin. She sighed in blessed relief as the pain drained away.
The ghost smiled. “Ahhh! It worked. Bueno. Better, sí?”
“Sí,” she rasped. Her throat ached from screaming.
“Rest now,” Elena said over the sounds of combat as Morgan and Garret drove the dragon from the cave. “You are safe. We’ve defeated him.” Her mouth tightened. “For now.”
* * *
Garret rested a hand on Beth’s forehead. Despite the sweaty tangle of her hair, her skin had cooled, her breathing steadying from its deathly rattle. “Thank God,” he told Morgan. “The fever’s gone.” Sitting up, he rested his elbows wearily on his knees. “Just in time. I’d thought we’d lost her for sure.” Two days had passed since Beth had dropped into the coma, and they’d had to fight for her every minute of it.
“It was Ramirez. He did his damnedest to kill her.”
Garret sighed and scratched his beard. It badly needed trimming. “He had his claws sunk deeper than I expected. He’s one powerful son of a bitch.” Putting a hand to his aching back, he stood and slowly straightened it. Too long lying in the same position took a toll even on vampire muscles.
“But Beth fought him anyway.” Morgan said softly. “She never gave in. She’s … more than I expected. Brilliant. Strong. You can almost taste her fierce determination to live, even after all this.”
“Yeah.” Garret looked down at her as she lay sprawled on her back. There were shadows under those big eyes from her illness, but even that couldn’t dim the beauty of her oval face. He could feel her in the link now, even as deeply asleep as she was. “She’s so different from Elena, and yet… they’re a lot alike. Especially the loyalty to those she loves. I can’t wait to meet that sister of hers.” They’d touched Beth’s memories of Val, tasted the relationship the sisters had.
“Love,” Morgan said aloud, reacting to his thought. He broke off.
Garret looked over at him, reading the confused tangle of his emotions, the blend of longing and guilt. “I feel the same way. It would be so easy to fall in love with her, but after what happened to Elena…” He glanced down at Beth, taking in the sweet, bare curves of breast and hip. The taste of her had been intoxicating. “Except I’m not sure either one of us has a choice. Besides…”
Morgan finished the sentence. “It may be a moot point anyway if we can’t take care of Ramirez.”
Chapter Eight
Africa was half the world away, but Ramirez still felt the last assassin die.
He swore viciously. Beth’s wretched sister and her whoreson husband had proven more formidable than he expected.
Restlessly, he began to pace the bedroom, anger eating at him. Wrapped up in his furious thoughts, he was barely aware of the terrified stare of the bound woman watching from the bed.
He’d made a mistake in sending his spawn so far away. Though Ramirez could sense when they died, he couldn’t control them over distances so great.
Which meant that the little cocksuckers had probably spilled their guts to this Cade McKinnon, if he’d bothered to torture them at all.
Ramirez paused his restless steps to gaze out the bay window at the mountains that surrounded the last of his homes. Hell, perhaps they hadn’t even needed torture. They hated him, the ungrateful bastards, hated the way he’d been forced to sacrifice their brothers in his battle with Elena’s spawn.
He had only four thralls left, nowhere near enough. Not considering that McKinnon’s little puta would no doubt tell the cousins where he was holed up. The McKinnons and the Axtons would probably join forces to storm his mountain headquarters. And soon.
Luckily, he’d already hired a team of mercenaries to defend him if it became necessary. One phone call and they’d be here, armed to the teeth. They were only human, of course, but enough men with enough automatic weapons would tip the odds firmly in his favor.
It might even be possible to capture Elena’s cocksucking spawn. And then…
His dick hardening at the thought, Ramirez turned toward the captive who still lay huddled on his bed. Grinning into her big green eyes, he started toward her.
* * *
When Beth woke, her mouth felt cottony with thirst. She moaned, the sound emerging as a croak.
“Welcome back.” Without being asked, Garret sat down on the bed next to her and presented a squeeze bottle of water to her mouth. She sucked at it with greedy desperation as he pumped a cool stream into her mouth.
“That’s enough,” he said finally, and pulled the bottle away. “We don’t want you getting sick.”
“Thanks,” she managed, as the dryness receded a little.
Morgan walked over to join them. Both men were dressed again -- jeans and a black T- shirt for him, Garret in chinos and a golf shirt. They looked so neat and clean Beth was instantly aware of her own sweaty body.
“Gah. I feel nasty.” Not to mention hung-over. Her head ached, and when she tried to move, every muscle protested as if she’d just run a marathon. “May I have some more water? I’m still thirsty.”
Morgan exchanged a significant glance with Garret. “I’m afraid it’s not water you need.”
Good God, she realized, it’s the Hunger. The idea felt so huge and frightening, she had to joke. “I feel more like a three-day old kitten than a super-powered creature of the night.” She managed a sickly smile. “I want my money back.”
“Give it time,” Morgan told her. “Once you… eat, you’ll feel better.”
“Thanks for saying ‘eat’ instead of ‘feed.’”
“Actually,” Garret pointed out, “you’ve drunk from us before. Several times.”
“Yeah, but that seemed more like kinky sex than… this.” She reached for the bottle again. He handed it over without further comment.
But as she put it in her mouth, the nozzle hit one of her canines. Pain stabbed her gums, and the tooth gave way. “Dammit!” she lisped, slapping a hand over her mouth as it tried to roll down her throat. Choking, she scrambled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, blood flooding her mouth.
Bending over the sink, she spat hastily. A crimson blob of blood hit the basin, along with the white wedge of a canine. Pain jabbed her again as another tooth came loose. She spat that one out too.
With a moan of disgust, Beth turned the taps on full and scooped handful of water into her mouth. Spitting it out, she looked into the mirror and found the men standing behind her, watching sympathetically. “I guess this means I’ve got fangs now.” She cringed. Her sibilants had acquired a distinct “th” sound. “Great. Now I’m lis
ping.” Reluctantly, she looked in the mirror and opened her jaws. Her canines had been replaced by inch-long fangs.
“Oh, God,” Beth whispered. “I’m really a vampire.” Her eyes began to sting, and she ducked her head, turning away from the mirror.
Garret pulled her into his arms. “I know,” he soothed, gathering her close. “It’s always tough at first.”
Tears rolling down her cheeks, she wrapped her arms around his warm waist. “I feel like such an idiot. I asked for this. I did. But…”
“You feel as if you’ve lost your humanity.” Morgan rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You haven’t. You’re still the same woman you always were.”
She lifted her head and gave him a watery smile. “I don’t know about that. I can hear both your hearts beating.” The double thump sounded like a distant music.
Morgan smiled slightly. “So a few things are different.”
“Too many things.” Pulling back from Garret, Beth licked at the blood on her lips. It tasted far too good for her peace of mind. “I need a shower.” She turned toward the tub and felt her knees give way.
Before she could fall on her face, a strong hand clamped around her elbow, supporting her. “Take it slow,” Morgan said. “Your body has been through a lot.”
“Maybe you should go for a bath instead,” Garret suggested. “They’ve got a huge tub. Big enough for all three of us.”
“Yeah?” Intrigued, she hobbled around the corner, feeling like an old woman with Morgan’s supporting hand under her arm.
He was right, the tub was huge. Made of cream marble veined with pink, it was a good five feet across and seven feet long. The fixtures were gold, and the faucet was shaped like a swan, its neck an elegant curve. “That’s not a tub, that’s a swimming pool. Somebody has way too much money.”
“Maybe.” Garret bent to turn on the taps, then flicked a switch, sending jets of water thundering into the tub. “But you’ve got to admit, it’s got possibilities.” Straightening, he pulled his shirt off over his head.
The sight of his lean, elegant torso made Beth’s mouth feel even dryer than it was already. “Possibilities,” she repeated. “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
Forever Kisses Volume 1 Page 35
