The issue of the survival of his Clutch.
It saddened Nicolas to know they were the last of the breed. Even with their dwindling numbers, Nicolas was reluctant to allow his Clutch to turn more humans. There were certain standards to be met. He did not want to turn just any frail human.
But if he could smite the source of their destruction, there was hope.
And the source was here. At this place called Ravencrest.
They had arrived just as darkness had fallen, landing at a small airstrip a few miles away from their ultimate destination. Nicolas had made previous arrangements to accommodate them all nearby. He had done his research. Not far from Ravencrest, hidden in the hills, was a maze of deep caves. Perfect to wait out the daylight.
Nicolas had been anxious to get a look at Ravencrest. Ramsey had shown him where the compound was located on a map of the area when Nicolas had awakened. Ramsey had offered to take him there but Nicolas had said no. He wanted his first look at the nest of the Unkindness to be a solitary experience.
When Ramsey had scoffed at his ability to enter the compound unseen, Nicolas did something he hadn’t done in a very long time.
He shifted.
Nicolas cawed, laughing at Ramsey’s wide eyes when he took the form of a raven. As he fluffed his feathers and stretched his wings, the irony of his shifted form wasn’t lost on him. A raven to destroy all Ravens.
And that was the form Nicolas used to gain entry into the grounds of Ravencrest. The security system would pick up his movement but Nicolas was sure that a bird flying through the forest would not raise any alarms.
He flew through the tress, reveling in the night and the feel of the wind beneath his wings. It had been so long since he felt the rushing caress of air as he rode the thermal breeze. It was exhilarating. Everything from this lofty perspective seemed sharp and shifting. It was a whole other world, high up in the tops of the trees … soaring above them through the open air, then diving down, speed that he had forgotten rifling through him as his feathered body knifed through the sky.
But it wasn’t long to be, this sense of the unbound.
The stone walls of Ravencrest came into view, their grayish whiteness glowing almost silver in the moonlight like some fortress of shining armor, impenetrable.
Nicolas swooped low, circling the immense structure, surveying the layout. Ramsey had drawn a floor plan for Nicolas but had admitted that there were areas of the mansion that he had not entered. Nicolas wanted to be sure that he had every bit of information he could acquire before launching an attack.
His wings tiring after so many years of lack of use, Nicolas perched on the rooftop of the main section of the mansion. Ruffling his feathers, he settled. He looked over the landscape that surrounded the mansion. The forest that encircled the compound was thick, broken only by the mansion itself and small, manicured gardens that were scattered around the edges of the five wings that were extended from the main section of the house. Nicolas thought it fitting that the mansion, seen from above, looked uncannily like the sun with rays of light beaming from it. All in all, Nicolas was impressed. Ravencrest looked like a solid fortress, one that he himself would appreciate having.
But no fortress was impenetrable. There was always a weakness. Nicolas just had to find it. Gripping the crest of the roof tightly in his claws, Nicolas bent his legs and spread his wings. He shoved off the roof, diving down. He pulled up just two feet from the ground, cruising low. As he flew, his sharp eyes scanned the windows, searching for movement. He wanted to see inside the nest, maybe gain a bit of knowledge about the occupants themselves. Finally, he came upon a window that spilled a rectangle of light out onto the grass. Nicolas flew closer then landed softly on the ground. Folding his wings close to his body, he inched closer, stopping at the edge of the splash of light.
Through the window, Nicolas could see someone sitting at a desk, their back to the glass. The person had wide shoulders and long, jet-black hair. Definitely male from the powerful shape of the shoulders, Nicolas thought. Most likely, it was the one Ramsey had described as John Raven, the veritable leader of the flock. Then Nicolas remembered. Not a flock—an ‘unkindness’, for that was what a group of ravens was called and evidently how this particular group had devised their name: The Unkindness of Ravens.
Another thought struck him. Since Nicolas was in raven form at the moment and was in such close proximity to the Unkindness, could he be considered one of their flock? The thought struck him as humorous. Nicolas let out a sharp caw, a laugh in his present form.
The man at the desk stiffened at the sound, turning his head slightly to the side. Listening.
Nicolas cocked his head. The window was not open. Had the one called John heard him? It was possible. The call of a raven was sharp and grating. The very opposite of Nicolas’ normal voice.
The man began to rise from the chair.
Immediately, Nicolas took flight, skirting around the corner of one of the wings of the building. It would serve no purpose letting John Raven see him, even in this form.
Nicolas searched for another window that would reveal a vignette into the nest. All windows in this section of the building were dark. No matter. There were more areas he had yet to check. The night was still young. His hunger had only just begun to tickle at him. He had time to get back to the cave and see which of his brood was blood-rich from their own feast. It would more than likely be Debbie, his precious new vampiress who reminded him so very much of another woman. Kaitlyn, a luscious redhead that Nicolas had immediately decided to turn, but she had inexplicably disappeared. Nicolas still found that strange. Under normal circumstances, his fledgling would have been bound to him. Unable and unwilling to leave his side. Kaitlyn had been different. That’s why he had been attracted to her. And her flavor! Nicolas had never tasted anything like it before. There was an unusual undertone to Kaitlyn’s blood, almost a nutty hint in the coppery elixir.
As he rounded a corner on the most eastern wing, Nicolas wondered what had become of Kaitlyn. Had she survived without his guidance? He felt no psychic connection to her, unlike the connection he had with his other fledglings. That’s why he had not tried to find her. Nicolas figured that no connection to Kaitlyn’s thoughts probably signified that she hadn’t survived and was now so much dust in the breeze. Sad. Very sad. Nicolas would have liked to have kept her.
A flickering light ahead caught his attention.
Nicolas flew stealthily toward it.
It was candlelight, coming through a window.
Nicolas landed in the small garden where the light flickered over the ground. He looked toward the window, focusing.
Then he froze.
If his heart still beat, it would have stuttered and stopped at the vision in the window.
Nicolas blinked, then took to wing, landing in the shadows and out of the light. He shifted back to his human form. Shrugging his shoulders, he stretched his muscles. Perfectly clothed in black silk, Nicolas blended into the night. He would have to be still, lest some security device sensed his movement and recognized him as human. He leaned back against a tree trunk and prepared to watch.
The scene in front of him, framed by the large bay window, struck him to his deepest core.
She was a vision.
Hands braced shoulder width apart, the beauty reared up, revealing herself to Nicolas’ gaze. Her perfect breasts, flushed and tipped with hard little nipples the color of blushed roses, bounced tauntingly in time with the movements of the man who was taking her from behind. With his every thrust into her, Nicolas could almost taste the passion that built inside her. Her long, blondish hair hung over her shoulder in damp strands, shorter ones plastered to her reddened cheeks. Her lips were swollen, parted, revealing the small white pearls of her teeth. Her eyes were heavy lidded and glazed with sensuality, hypnotizing Nicolas with the power of her lust. Her face, even in the throes of passion, was angelic. Her visage seemed licked by the devilish flames of the candles before he
r in the windowsill. Innocence and decadence were waging war on the other side of the pane of glass.
A name floated through Nicolas’ mind. Larissa.
Nicolas ran his long tongue over parched lips, fighting the urge to rush to the glass and peer deeply into those eyes. Yes, there was a battle being fought inside the girl. Which would win? Would she completely give herself over to the fire? Nicolas thought she would. Already she was singed and showed no sign of fearing the heat.
It was a fire Nicolas longed to bathe in.
This woman’s fire.
Nicolas took one step forward, allowing the flickering candlelight to lick his face.
The woman-girl threw her head back, her hair flying.
Nicolas felt a rush flash through him as her eyes seemed to meet his.
She jerked forward, the man between her legs behind her ramming into her. Her eyes closed for a brief second and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Yes,” Nicolas murmured in the darkness, sensing the tightening inside her. He reached out with his mind, searching.
She opened her eyes wide, pinning him with her gaze as she jerked forward again, her breasts bobbing with the force.
Nicolas raised one hand and with a motion as if a caress, locked onto her mind, sending her his touch on a thought.
She blinked, something flashed across her eyes as Nicolas projected the feel of his hand cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing across her peaked rosebud of a nipple.
The man thrust yet again.
She rocked forward, almost losing her grip.
“Come,” Nicolas whispered in the darkness. “Come, my precious. Let me see it in your eyes.”
On the next thrust, her eyes rolled up and even through the glass separating them, Nicolas could hear her cry of release.
He fisted his hand as he watched her body shudder, quaking in ecstasy.
Then she crumbled. Losing her grip, she faltered, her elbows giving way.
The man caught her and rolled her to the side.
She disappeared beneath the windowsill, lost from sight.
Nicolas focused on the man’s face just before he, too, disappeared from view.
As Nicolas moved back into the shadows, he knew who would be the first he would battle with.
And after Nicolas won, he would claim his prize.
The woman-girl who loved the tongues of fire licking her soul.
Nicolas shifted back to a raven.
In a flurry of feathers, he took flight racing to put distance between himself and Ravencrest. Between himself and the prize that dwelled within.
In what, to Nicolas, was only the blink of an eye, he was back at the cave where his Clutch was sequestered.
Candlelight flickered in the cave, reminding Nicolas of the vision he had seen in the window at Ravencrest. All were in attendance save Vincent. Vincent, almost as ancient as Nicolas himself, liked to take his time and toy with his prey, returning just before dawn after every hunt.
Debbie eyed Nicolas warily until he shifted back to his human form.
Even as Nicolas arched his back, trying to align his spine after the shift, Debbie was fawning over him. “You were gone so long,” she said, reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “I worried you wouldn’t come back.”
Nicolas looked down into her eyes, a hint of sadness flitting through his mind. He had thought he had found the one he could spend his unending eternity with in her. She had not been his first choice. No, he knew that he had chosen Debbie for her resemblance to Kaitlyn, the fledgling that had disappeared, but now—now that he had seen the angelic being that dared the boundaries of white-hot passion hidden behind the stone walls of Ravencrest, Nicolas knew there could be no other. He had to have the candlelit beauty who even now heated his icy insides with a warmth that he hadn’t felt since he was alive.
Nicolas raked his fingers through Debbie’s fiery hair, tangling it in his grip at the nape of her neck.
Debbie sighed, baring her pale neck.
Hunger gnawed fiercely at Nicolas but not only his hunger for blood. A new yearning ate at him. To his surprise, Nicolas felt emptiness in his heart, a heart that hadn’t beat in over three hundred years. An emptiness that only the soft innocence he saw beneath the beauty at Ravencrest’s passion could fill.
Nicolas jerked his gaze from Debbie’s neck and scanned the cave. “Ramsey!”
Then he saw them. Patricia had Ramsey pinned against a rocky wall, her mouth attached to his neck.
Nicolas shook his head. “Patricia,” he said softly.
Immediately her head came up. She looked over her shoulder at Nicolas, her eyes glowing wildly.
“Finish with him quickly, Patricia,” Nicolas said. “I must discuss some things with him before dawn.”
Patricia nodded and turned back to Ramsey, burying her fangs into his neck again.
Nicolas’ stomach clenched. He needed to feed. He looked down at Debbie’s upturned face, his grip still at the nape of her neck. He would soon be finished with her, but there was no reason he couldn’t allow her a measure of pleasure while he fed from her one last time.
With one swipe of his powerful hand, Nicolas ripped the dress she wore from Debbie’s body. Craning her neck back with his hold in her hair, he ran his other hand down over her belly and down into the curls that covered her sex. She licked her lips and thrust her pelvis against his hand, her own hand gripping his arm.
Nicolas smiled softly, the knowledge that this would be Debbie’s last taste of passion making the moment bittersweet. As he slid his fingers inside her lukewarm core, she gasped. Nicolas brushed his lips against hers, wishing they were the hot, luscious lips of the candlelit beauty. “You are my favorite pet,” he whispered. Then he moved to her neck and sliced his fangs into her. While the blood washed over his tongue and wet his dry throat, Nicolas pleasured her with his long, experienced fingers until she cried out, the sound echoing from the walls of the cave.
When Debbie began to go limp, he lifted her gently in his arms then knelt with her. Never removing his mouth from her neck, he maneuvered her until he was sitting on the hard floor, his back against the wall with Debbie draped over his lap.
Nicolas hated the thoughts of draining one of his own completely but it was the only way he would be able to break the bond between them. Though Debbie would not ‘die’ from the draining at once, if one of the others didn’t replenish her with some of their blood before dawn, she would fade into nothing. Nicolas was sure that Vincent would oblige when he returned. Vincent had wanted to sample Debbie from the beginning but Nicolas had not given him permission. Now, Vincent could have her, for Nicolas didn’t want any interference from a lovesick fledgling when he brought his new beauty into the fold.
Debbie lay prone in his lap, her naked body almost completely limp.
Nicolas suctioned the wound in her neck as he slowly stroked his fingers in and out of her pussy. She convulsed, her body jerking, her pussy feebly clenching his fingers as she orgasmed for the last time under his ministrations.
Nicolas swiped his tongue across the wound in her neck, licking the last drop of blood from her now empty body.
Carefully, he lifted her from him and laid her on the floor.
Her eyes looked made of milky glass, her death staring back at him.
“It won’t be for long, little one,” he said, using his light touch to close her eyes.
Nicolas rose from the floor, a new fire within him. He was ready for battle but first, he must plan.
“Ramsey, come. We have much to talk about,” he said, moving toward the mouth of the cave.
Dawn was still some hours away. Nicolas would rather be outside in the night. Ramsey would just have to follow.
Chapter Three
Heather gasped for breath, her body stuttering, unable to regain its timing after the earth shattering orgasm she had just experienced.
She lay flat on her back in Colin’s massive bed, her skin dewed with sweat f
rom her exertion and Colin’s heat. He lay beside her, his arm draped across her lower belly, his head resting on her breast. Lazily, Heather ran her fingers through his thick hair while she slowly regulated her breathing.
Sex with Colin had been amazing. Had been more than she had ever experienced with a man before. He had been able to light a fire in her that she had always struggled to attain but had never been able to reach. She smiled, closing her eyes, enjoying the warmth that radiated from their slick bodies.
Her thoughts meandered back to the sensations he had incited. The wonderfully wicked feeling that had overpowered her when he had set free the animal inside and taken her. She had been completely under his control, his fingers gripping her hips in a vise while he pounded into her deeply, sending shockwaves of pleasure all the way up her spine. Just thinking about it caused her to heat, her cream beginning to pool again.
Heather trailed her fingers down the back of Colin’s neck remembering the voice she had heard just before her world exploded. ‘Come’ he had said, luring her higher as she watched their reflection in the darkened window. But it hadn’t really sounded like Colin’s voice. It had been deeper. Hypnotizing. Heather frowned. It had been as if someone had been speaking inside her head and then, a hand had caressed her breast, rubbing deliciously over her nipple. That had sent her over the moon.
Heather opened her eyes. But—Colin’s hands had been on her hips. He hadn’t let go until they both collapsed on the bed. She narrowed her eyes and looked up at the flickering light from the candles dancing on the ceiling. Heather hadn’t had the feeling of someone invading her mind, or of feeling almost ghostly touches, since she had been in the company of vampires aboard the yacht Bloody Hell. Could it be that there was a vampire nearby? She knew for certain that Colin was not one of the undead, nor were there any inside Ravencrest.
Colin the Conqueror Page 3