“Is there a problem?” I blink up at him.
“Remember, these men are vampires and not criminals. They’re United States Marines who oversee the Vampire Transition Program. These cells stand in as temporary housing, while the construction of custom homes takes place. And, vampires hear everything, even the earthworms crawling beneath these floors.”
I gulp and make a mental note while my throat’s tied in a thousand knots as we proceed to the jail portion of the PDU. Ben must know I’m here if he and his coven are connected telepathically and have acute hearing. But, if so, why hasn’t he shown himself?
The base is as large as Diamond Springs and practically a city. I have suspicions explaining the reason the walls are several feet thick, and the blackened windows keep out the sun. I’m convinced top-secret horrors resemble those that exist on the pages of a Bram Stoker novel, minus the fog. If word of the existence of vampires hadn’t leaked, I suspect the world would still be in the dark, including my knowledge of my husband’s survival. In a way, I wish I were blind. I’m not sure I’m prepared to face Ben, but my feet have other plans, as my heels clip-clop alongside Anderson.
“Is Ben able to go out into the daylight?”
Giving me a slight grin, Corporal Anderson tips his head. “Vampire traits are classified.”
The secrecy piques additional questions. Will the military regulate our reintroduction? Sequester me as a method they’ll use to control Ben? I hug my chilled arms tighter, wanting Ben’s arms to replace mine so badly. Will he be warm? Will he be the man I remember?
I fight through a frightening shudder. “When will Ben be discharged? I want him to come home.”
“Depends.”
Anderson doesn’t elaborate on anything, which grinds me the wrong way. Figures the PDU has deemed him the designated everything-is-perfect-but-I-am-lying-through-my-big-white-teeth greeter.
“What do you know?” I blurt.
On a dime, he spins, grabbing my arm in a near bruising grip quicker than a blink. I don’t think Anderson is any more human than my husband, although he looks the part.
“I’ve witnessed more than I ever wanted to see. I’m trying to protect you, Camille. I’m trying to protect these men and myself. If they should lose control and word gets out they’ve harmed a human, we could all end up dead, and it might not be vampires who’ll be delivering the killing blow.”
I stiffen as fear coils around me like a crisp fall wind, one lacking moisture and clinging to the promise of snow. But my mind stalls on the word human, as if vampire soldiers have the right to harm other paranormal creatures.
It’s too much to wrap my brain around at the moment. Plus, I believe Anderson is Other Kind as well as hinting at a cover-up by our government. “You’ve made your point.”
“Good. This way.” He tosses his head in the direction of Ben’s cell, adjusting his cap to sit low over his brows.
I admit my eyes are a little too wide, and tears threaten, but I expect my shocked reaction. Behind parted privacy curtains, most of the men kick back in various states of relaxation, earbuds attached to their MP3 players, watching television, reading actual hardbound books, seemingly behaving as orderly as any military person confined to their barracks. A few cell doors are open as well, allowing the men to mingle. Several men prop themselves on the same bunk of a shared cell, watching a show on the TV. Seinfeld.
I smile, more to myself than to anyone. We all crave normal.
“Don’t stare. It’s a trigger,” Anderson warns.
A trigger for what? Will I be discouraged from looking at my husband? I trap my questions behind closed lips, but my mouth fills with cotton. I’m not sure if my knees will continue to hold me up as I near the last cell on my left. I recognize a few of these men, as they were part of Ben’s squad, but they don’t acknowledge me. Has their master warned them not to intrude? If Riley’s so intertwined with his coven, why hasn’t Ben called me these past years? Why has he yet to reach out to me, if he’s not technically a prisoner? Indeed, Ben’s aware I know of his existence, as Riley would have communicated to him. Does Ben need blood to survive? Who is his donor? Does he drink from a plastic cup or suck from a pulsing vein? I suspect the reason the military allowed me here has something to do with Ben’s survival.
My legs feel boneless as we reach a cell completely shrouded by thick canvas curtains. How am I to feed my husband when I faint at the sight of blood? It’s my last thought as a growl percolates from behind the cloth.
“This is Ben’s cell. Don’t get too close to the bars until you’ve calmed. Let him come to you.”
I stare into Anderson’s eyes, expecting to see a different color since he’s aware of my radiating fear. Or perhaps he’s judging me off his anxieties. Either way, I must defend my husband. “This is my Ben. He’d never hurt me.”
“Let’s hope not. I have hexed cuffs in my pocket, or—“
He taps his firearm as if he’d use the gun if I were in danger.
I inch closer, the drape of cloth brushing my fingertips. “Promise me you won’t use your weapon.”
Instead of acknowledging my request, he juts his chin toward a partially open curtain exposing a few men. A bit of laughter wafts through the cell as the comedy sitcom streams. “I’ll be right over there.”
Just his touch of confidence in my husband serves to calm me. Maybe Ben hasn’t changed all that much. I lower my shoulders a tad, and I take a much-needed breath. Behind Ben’s curtain, I hear cloth rustle and bedsprings shift. I’m positive my husband is awake. A noise resonates from within, sounding almost feral, which Tricia has debriefed me to understand. A hiss precedes a growl, which precedes an attack. The sound is more of a purr, which Tricia’s explained signifies pleasure. With all my focus and hope rolled into a nervous ball trapped in the pits of my belly, I grip each panel, exposing a single vertical steel bar.
“Ben? I’m here. It’s Camille. Your wife.”
I spread the curtains with trembling hands, pledging my strength to accept my vampire husband. But as my brain attempts to wrap around what I see—A somewhat emaciated, skimpily clothed male, who’s too thin to be my Ben, but who’s positioned himself between a woman’s bare legs, his head flush to her exposed thigh.
I scream.
Chapter Two
Ben
Snaked around a female donor, my fangs plunged gum-deep against her bare inner thigh, my primal hunger shatters into a thousand pieces. Before I realize the sound of my wife’s voice isn’t a well-coddled illusion, but her terror-filled scream, I shove the donor to the floor and white-knuckle the steel bars. I open my mouth, drawing up my fangs so I can speak. “Camille, my precious Camille.”
“Your mouth. On that woman. Your teeth. Your eyes.”
I spin, shame darting through me as I swipe at the blood dripping from my lips, but when I face Camille, I know I’m too late to reverse what she’s seen.
Blatant betrayal shines in her accusatory expression. She shakes her head too fast, her blond ponytail beating her shoulders as she staggers away from me. Shock apparent by her big blue globes.
She hugs her arms. “I never believed you’d died. I waited, I hoped, and I prayed you’d come back to me, but this… You must be truly dead to be so alive and to have never once reached out to me. Never once gave me the briefest clue you existed. Do you know how many times I’ve sat against our tree, pleading for a sign? Wanted to find something there you’d left for me?”
A warm droplet falls from my lip, trails down my chin, but when I glance to the floor, it’s a bloody tear. “I want to talk to you. I want to tell you everything, but…”
She eyes the cadet, who’s fixing her pants in my peripheral.
“It’s classified. I’ve heard. But my husband wouldn’t let anything come between us. Not the US government, not even death.”
I jerk the door, quickly realizing I’m locked behind bars, as I’m protecting the cadet from the other vamps, her blood as attractive to them as spring bl
ooms are to a desert hive. “It’s not what you think. She’s a donor. Food.”
Any remaining blood painting Camille’s cheeks a peachy glow turns ashen. “Now I know what happened to the guard—”
Before I can demand the cadet to unlock the cell door, Camille’s legs buckle, and she crumples as her eyes roll back.
Anderson’s faster than I’ve ever seen him as he dives, grabbing her before she slams onto the concrete floor.
He eases her gently into his lap as he stoops. “Ben, stay back. Cadet, head to the infirmary. That’s an order.”
Fuck if I’ll let a lower-ranked officer tell me what to do. “Give me the keys. Now.”
While the donor fumbles in her pocket, Camille’s eyes flutter as she attempts to bring me into focus.
I snag the jangling keys as soon as they’re exposed. In a blur of speed, I kneel over my wife as I shove Anderson and send him sliding down the hallway.
He’s knocked out, his limp body propped against the far wall, but I know him. He’s as quick to heal as I am. Even though he acts human, I believe he’s something else.
“Ben, I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
Hell, she’s the last one who should be apologizing. A disapproving groove cuts her forehead, and I don’t need telepathic abilities to interpret what she’s thinking: My husband’s a cheater, a freak, a violent monster, a vampire who can’t control himself. He deserves to be locked up. He’s a danger to the world. But I’m too screwed up by his loss to do what’s right for me and leave his sorry vampire ass.
I rock her, cradle her head to my cold dead chest as I’ve dreamed of our reunion every night for five torturous years. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go down. I love you so much.”
I stroke her beautiful blond locks, wishing I could right any negative experience she’s endured, including the shit I’ve put her through, as well as holding accountable the one who created that new scar above her brow. Yeah, I’m melodramatic, but this is my Camille. “I’m here, baby. I’ll never leave you again. You don’t know how many times I tried to escape and come home to you. You don’t know how I’ve suffered to protect you. I need you to believe I’m protecting you now. I’d never hurt you.”
But I’m not sure, even accidentally, I’d never harm her. Anderson’s unmoving, and the donor hasn’t managed to retreat as swiftly as I wish she had. As I’d imagined the female cadet was my wife, lying under me, nourishing me, loving me, did I inadvertently take too much blood from the donor? I can’t risk feeding off Camille and killing her. It’s my biggest fear.
Camille tries to sit, collapsing back into me.
She blinks several times, regaining her strength with each passing moment. “Why didn’t you call for me to feed you? Why her, when you promised to love only me?”
Her level questions startle me, but I find the courage to tell her the truth. “It’s because of my love for you, I fed. I couldn’t risk losing control with you.”
Her hair drifts over my arms as she shakes her head. “You’re not a loose wire. You’re not losing control now.”
The thing is, every nerve in my body is vibrating with lust for her pumping blood, desire for her wet core. I want to take her, claim her, consume every ounce of her flesh until she is inside me, part of me, and we are one for an eternity. “I didn’t want you to see me like that, like this,” I hiss. “I’m so sorry.”
She raises from me, using her sleeve to wipe away the crimson residue remaining on my mouth. Then she presses her lips to mine.
Soft, warm, hurried at first as I open, letting her in, greeting and encouraging her tentative exploration. “That’s it, baby. I’ve missed this, missed you so damn much.”
I shouldn’t pick her up. I shouldn’t grab a fleece blanket and wrap her. I shouldn’t cuddle her close, our unbroken kiss on the verge of lighting us both on fire as I escape my quarters. I shouldn’t descend stairs until we’re deep in the catacombs of the underground beneath the PDU, and I’m confident our intimate reunion won’t be interrupted, nor will we be quickly found. But I’m a vampire, and she’s a human—my woman, my wife—and no man will come between us.
Camille
Ben presses his lips against my neck, every savage kiss, every hungered pant heightening my shock and pleasure. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”
“When I get done, you’ll have no doubts, Camille. I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly; you’ll believe we’re still in our wedding chambers.”
Ben’s words evoke memories, and he doesn’t disappoint. As if he’s living a lifetime in every moment, he fingers each button of my shirt, slipping the plastic disk through the hole until I’m bare and my nipples tight, waiting, wanting him to suck me. “Will your teeth hurt when you strike?”
He shakes his head, his soft auburn-tinged hair swishing about his ears. He bows over my body, easing me back onto the blanket and the makeshift pillow he’s plumped under my head. “No, baby. Nothing I will ever do with you will cause you pain.”
I feel so safe, so happy. My smile crimps my cheeks until they tingle. I didn’t realize until now how, in losing Ben, I misplaced the old me, the smiling me, the sunshine that used to burn so bright inside of me. I wrap my arms around his neck and twist my legs around his hips, pulling him so tight to my body, I gasp. “I want you inside me. I never want to leave here.”
In a blur of speed, Ben’s disrobed, bare, and very erect, standing over me.
I stretch my arms toward him, trembling in anticipation. I wave him forward, widening my legs to allow my husband entrance. “I’m never getting used to your speed.”
He settles his weight over me but stays silent, and for the briefest moment, I realize he’s tentative about our mating.
“You won’t hurt me,” I assure him, shaking my head.
As he finds his spot, I realize he’s warm, or at least lukewarm. “I thought you’d be cold.”
“There’s a lot you need to know about me. My body temperature is a steady eighty-six degrees, only ten degrees lower than humans.” He lifts my chin, anticipating my next question before I can even get it out.
“You thought because I’d died I’d be like a zombie, dead and cold. I still feel everything. I still cling to my memories of us. In fact, as a vampire, I’m able to know every memory of every other member of Riley’s coven.”
I place my fingertips over Ben’s mouth. Strangely, the mountains of questions don’t seem as important now. Or maybe, in the back of my mind, no matter how fantastic this time is, I don’t trust the peace, the pleasure.
Temporary.
I finally settle on the truth. “I don’t want our first time together after so long to have anyone here but the two of us. Not politics, not what you’ve missed, not what I’ve missed, not even your master.”
“Excluding Riley is trickier.” He glances away.
I catch the darkness floating behind his eyes, but I don’t want to cause him pain. He can’t help what he is any more than I can help than I’m human. I pinch his chin, letting my thumb rest in the dimple there. “Make love to me, as you are. I don’t care if a billion vampires see how much I love you, miss you, and want you. But this time, let it be between the two of us.”
His crushing mouth lands on mine as if I’ve accepted him in some fathomless way when he’d thought I’d run screaming. He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as I feel him hard at my slippery opening. So incredibly engorged, slickness painting his tip.
“I haven’t done this…”
My heels find purchase in his butt cheeks, and I pull him into me, sighing out my pleasure. “Oh, Ben…”
When he enters, he shudders, sweat tackles his shoulders, and beads of perspiration dot his forehead. He groans as he begins to move, in and out and in and out. But as he pumps into me, as his lips draw up over his fangs, as he moans, I know how long it’s been for him when he comes.
“Again,” I tell him. “You’re not human. Again.”
“No, I’m not. I don’t have to wait to catch my
breath. Now, I’m taking away yours,” he purrs.
My breath catches as erotic tremors ripple through me. My husband knows my body, every tiny nerve, every hidden button that evokes pleasure from me. He flexes his hips, moving again, deepening his thrust. “Oh, my God, Ben. You’re so good.”
Faster, inhumanly fast, he teases the nerve bud inside me, rocking me, exploring my folds with his thumb, and finding an entirely new rhythm.
“I’m, I’m…” I cry out, his speed pulling a gasp from me.
In a blur, he’s knelt between my legs and staring up at me, his blue eyes mixed with red. “Your eyes are almost purple.”
“As purple as your clit, which I plan on licking until you scream.”
He works his fingers inside of me as he laps at my clit, drawing me closer and closer to a bliss-filled climax. White dots fill my hazy dream state as I think this man, my husband, my vampire is finally here with me. He loves me. He’s not dead. He’s not lying in a coffin in the middle of the town cemetery. He’s home, and we’re going to be together forever.
“Come, baby.”
His command sends me over the edge as I grip his hair with my hands, tugging until I hear him purr as he works his way up the length of my body with a feral hunger that should terrify me. But this is Ben. My protector. My pleasure master. “Ben! Oh, Ben…”
I stiffen, allowing the ecstasy he’s giving me, giving us both, to irrevocably bind us together. He retakes me, burying himself deep and pinning me with his weight, his desire, his love. I prick his shoulders with my nails, pulling him against me. My toes curl as wave after luxurious wave sends me sailing and carries me off to the edge of the world.
His lips find mine, slower this time, sure, calm. I’m tingling from my roots to my toenails and everywhere in between. I shouldn’t push this, but I find I’m still hungry for my vampire. I mumble, drunk on all the tender caresses lavished on me, and his love. “I never want to stop. I want you inside me forever.”
Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories Page 26
