by Cynthia Eden
“Some folks believe that Dracula’s castle was originally called Bran’s Castle.” His lips quirked. “And that’s the name of this place, too.”
So he’d named his bar after Dracula’s house. Was that supposed to be some kind of in-vamp joke? No wonder the vamps were flocking inside.
The bartender came back, nervously tucking a long lock of blond hair behind her ears. Her nails, painted a bright red, tapped on the marble bartop. “We thought . . . a lot of us thought you were dead.”
Ryder just stared back at her. “Then I guess word is about to spread that I’m back.”
The blonde looked scared. Of her boss?
Sabine glanced back at Ryder. His handsome face was hard. His fangs were flashing. And his eyes . . . she’d never seen them so cold. Usually, his eyes were bright. Glinting. Not icy.
His grip tightened on the glass, and a faint crack appeared, running up the side.
The blonde’s attention shifted to Sabine. “You don’t want the blood?”
No, actually, the sight of it was making her nauseous. Before she could speak, Ryder snagged her fingers. Brought her hand to his lips. “Sabine drinks from me.”
The chick’s eyes almost doubled then. “Y-you let . . .”
Ryder shoved the glass away. “And I drink from her.” Then he was rising and heading for a narrow, wooden staircase in the back. When Sabine put her foot on the first stair, it gave a long, low groan.
She felt a dozen eyes on her back, but she refused to look over her shoulder. So they had the attention of every vamp in the place. So what? The way she figured it, this was a safe house, of sorts.
She didn’t have to worry about Genesis here. Or about Dante.
The stairs kept creaking as they headed upstairs. Then they entered a small apartment, and Ryder locked the door behind them.
“It won’t be long now,” he said.
She rubbed a hand over her aching forehead. “Until what?”
“Until we see which vamps want to try to kill us.”
Hell. So much for safe.
CHAPTER TWELVE
She hadn’t fed.
Ryder paced the apartment, casting worried glances at Sabine. He’d yanked off his shirt, what was left of it, and tossed the fabric in the trash.
Anger hummed through him, no, rage, but he was doing his best to hold on to his control. For now. For her.
“Promise you won’t leave me again.” The words were an order. He probably should have tried to soften them.
Then she shook her head, and he realized he shouldn’t be going easy at all.
His back teeth snapped together, and he stalked toward her. “You need me.”
She blinked those gorgeous, dark eyes of hers. “How do you know what I need?”
Insane. That was what she wanted him to be.
He put his hands on the wall behind her, caging her between his arms. “You’re a freshly turned vamp, love. You might as well be a newborn.”
Her eyes narrowed at that. “Did you just call me a child?”
No, he’d called her a newborn. Even a child wasn’t totally helpless. “When the bloodlust hits you, you’ll—”
“But the bloodlust hasn’t hit me,” she fired back at him. “It’s been days since my so-called turning, and I’m doing just fine holding on to my control.”
His head tilted as he studied her. He could see the pulse racing at the base of her neck. Drink. He’d been injured, attacked. Lost a lot of blood. Sure, his wounds had closed. He was an ancient vamp, they’d better close, but even though his body had healed, the craving was still within him.
I need her blood.
So he’d lied to her. She wasn’t the one who needed him. He needed her. Without her, the hunger would tear him apart.
He wanted to put his mouth on that racing pulse. Wanted to bite.
But she didn’t?
“You fed when you left me.” The only explanation. Had she killed? Not that it mattered to him.
Sabine shook her head.
And she just confused him more. “You’ve had no blood, no human food at all?” She had to take some kind of sustenance.
She shrugged. “I ate something at a diner.”
He didn’t let the shock show on his face. Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to ingest human food.
“I didn’t eat much,” she muttered. “I just wasn’t hungry.”
What in the hell was happening? He’d felt her fangs before. Once. But he hadn’t seen any sign of them since the moment of her transformation.
He leaned in closer. She tensed.
Ryder let his brows rise. “Are you afraid of me, Sabine?”
Her breath whispered out. “What you said before, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Bite her.
“You do—you want my blood.”
“Love, I’m starving for it.” Other blood just didn’t satisfy him. Other blood made the craving for her even more intense.
Her hands rose and pressed lightly against his chest. Not pushing him away, not yet. “If I let you drink from me, then I want you to help me make sure that Rhett’s all right. I have to know that my family’s safe.”
Trying to make another bargain with him? Fine. But he would have checked on her brother with or without the promise of her delicious blood. Those who mattered to Sabine, well, they mattered to him, too. “What is it that you want me to do?”
Her gaze held his. “I want you to make sure . . . anyone after them . . . I want you to stop anyone who tries to hurt them.”
Easy enough. Death was always easy for him. “And you’re so sure I can?”
“You’re the strongest paranormal I know. Even a phoenix’s fire couldn’t hurt you.” Her eyes searched his. “How was that even possible?”
Because of you. He knew that truth, even if she didn’t. He’d taken her blood, again and again, and somehow that blood had given him immunity against a phoenix’s fire. Perhaps it had even been like taking inoculations.
Maybe Wyatt had planned for him to develop that immunity. Maybe that had been the reason Wyatt first brought Sabine to his cell.
The man had created a vampire impervious to the fire. Transformation, not birth.
The reason didn’t really matter to Ryder. Fire had been one of the few means of killing him.
Cross that one off the list.
Now his enemies would have an even harder time forcing him from this earth.
“Why doesn’t the fire hurt you?” Sabine pressed.
“Because maybe I like the burn.” And instead of putting his mouth on her throat, he took her lips. Her sensual lips were parted slightly, open just enough for his tongue to push inside and taste her.
Mine.
Every muscle in his body tightened at that first taste. Not sweet, but rich. Decadent. Drugging.
Her tongue slid over his and a small moan built in her throat. The sound was sexy as all hell.
Yeah, he’d tracked her across four states. Gone nearly mad on that hunt.
She obsessed him. Every moment, he thought of her. A dangerous situation, for them both.
Her lips opened wider. The kiss grew harder. More demanding. Her body was soft and lush against his. She made a faint moan in the back of her throat, a sound that increased his wild desire.
His tongue thrust into her mouth. His hands locked around her hips. He pulled her closer. He couldn’t get close enough.
There were two things that vampires loved in this world. Blood and sex.
And if you could have both at the same time . . .
Lucky fucking day.
But she pulled her mouth from his. Turned her head away. “My . . . brother . . .”
His breath was panting. She wanted to talk about her brother then?
“Make sure . . . he’s okay.”
Son of a—
Snarling, he leapt away from her. Ryder yanked open the door and bellowed, “Grayson!”
He knew the other vampire would be there. When Sabine had l
eft him, Ryder had contacted the other vamp. Briefed him on Genesis, Sabine, and the betrayal that had taken place in the vampire coven. New Orleans was Grayson’s territory, a territory assigned by Ryder, and since Grayson was the one vamp that he actually trusted at that moment . . .
Grayson’s dark head appeared as he went up the stairs.
Well, it was good to have the guy watching his back. With the hell that was headed his way, Ryder knew he could use that.
Ryder’s knuckles whitened around the door frame. “Sabine’s brother was taken to the hospital.” Hell, he didn’t even know which one. “Find him. Make sure he stays alive.” Those had actually been the orders that Ryder had given to Grayson before he’d found Sabine in that alley.
While he’d rushed to New Orleans, Grayson had been his eyes and ears in the city. Grayson had played guard dog to the human, Rhett. Because Ryder had known that Sabine was going after him.
Grayson gave a slow nod. His dark gaze darted over Ryder’s shoulder. He knew Sabine was standing there. The wooden floor had creaked beneath her feet and her lush scent teased his nose.
“So you got what you were looking for?” Grayson asked, lifting a brow. Faint amusement had his lips quirking.
“Not yet,” Ryder muttered. “But soon I will.” As soon as she was under him. As soon as his teeth were in her neck.
He spun back around, slamming the door with his heel, and grabbing her in one fast flash. Two steps, and they were on the bed. Two seconds, and she was naked.
“Your brother’s safe.” Now she could focus on the heat between them. He could focus on her. He needed her blood. His fangs were burning, the hunger for her blood seeming to tear him apart.
His fingers slid over her throat. Her pulse raced beneath his touch. Throbbed. The blood so close.
“Go ahead,” she whispered.
But he was caught by her eyes. She’d stared at him with fear the first time they’d met. He’d hurt her then. He never wanted to hurt her again. So as much as he wanted to bury his fangs into her and drink and drink . . . he wanted her pleasure more.
His fingers slowly slid down her body. Sabine stiffened. “Ryder?”
“Shh . . . I missed you.” A confession from deep within. When was the last time that he’d missed anything or anyone?
He couldn’t remember. Only her. She made him feel, yearn, as no one else did. As no one else could. Taking her blood that first time—it had been as if he’d awakened with those precious drops. Life wasn’t cold and dark any longer.
The world was on fire around him, and she made him long for those flames.
He bent his head. His fingers trailed over her breast, teasing the nipple. Take, take.
But he kept his touch light. His fingers stroked her. He licked her flesh. Loved the way her nipple tightened as she arched beneath him. He sucked her breast, her fucking perfect breasts. Small but round, with delicious pink nipples.
His hand eased over the curve of her stomach. Down between her legs. She was so soft and warm and wet.
He licked his way to her other breast. She was shaking beneath him now, little trembles of arousal, and her nails were digging into his back. He liked her claws.
Her legs parted more, giving him better access to the flesh he craved.
He pushed his index finger inside her. Sabine’s delicate inner muscles clenched down on him. Holding on so tight.
His muscles were locked. Every instinct he had was screaming for him to bite, to thrust, to claim her.
He fought those instincts. She needed pleasure. Not pain. Only pleasure.
His finger slid out of her. Pressed back inside. His thumb pushed against her clit. Ryder found a rhythm that he knew she’d like, one not too fast, one sure-as-hell not too slow. Again and again, his hand caressed her warm sex.
Her hips moved against him. “More, Ryder, more!”
If she wanted more . . .
He lifted his head. Stared down at her.
“Ryder?”
He realized he was probably looking at her like he wanted to devour her.
I do.
He pulled his hand from her sex. She shook her head. “I wasn’t—”
His hands curved around her thighs. He spread her legs, holding her so that he could have the total access that he wanted.
Then he put his mouth on her. Her blood was sweet. But this, hell, nothing was this good.
He heard her choked scream. Felt the ripple of her release as he tasted her. He didn’t stop. He licked. Kissed. Stroked with his mouth and tongue. And he could taste her pleasure.
Only pleasure.
Her breath was panting when he rose. Her eyes blind with pleasure. He positioned his cock at the entrance of her body. Slid deep into her with one powerful surge. Her sex still rippled with aftershocks of pleasure, and those little shivers of her inner muscles worked up and down the length of his cock.
Her arms wrapped around him. Sabine pulled him close. Held him tight.
Her head turned to the left, baring her neck. “Bite me,” she whispered.
He wasn’t strong enough to resist that invitation.
His fangs pierced her throat. Blood—her blood!—trickled onto his tongue.
Ryder’s control shattered. His thrusts weren’t easy. Not gentle. His hips pistoned against her as he thrust harder, deeper. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders even as her legs rose to lock around his hips.
She whispered, “Harder.”
And he didn’t know if she meant the bite or—
Ryder drove into her. Faster. Deeper. Her blood filled him, sending a surge of power through every cell of his body. Drinking her blood was like getting plugged into a power outlet. Straight energy.
Straight fucking magic.
She stiffened beneath him, and her sex clenched around his cock. Yes. He pulled back, wanting to see the pleasure on her face once more.
And when his head lifted, he saw that her lips were parted, her eyes squeezed shut, and—and small fangs were peeking out from behind her lips.
His cock swelled even more. “Bite me,” he ordered. He wanted her to have his blood. Wanted anything that would strengthen the ties between them.
Was it fair to her? Hell, no. But he wasn’t interested in fair. He was taking the one thing in this world that mattered to him.
“Bite me, Sabine,” he snarled.
But she was lost to the pleasure. He could see it. And his own climax was so close. He caught the back of her head. Tilted her so that her mouth was right over his throat. She just needed to feel the pulse of his blood. Her vampire instincts would do the rest.
“You’re hungry, love,” he rasped. Her teeth scraped lightly over his flesh. “Let me give you what you need.”
He pushed into her. So slick. So tight. He drove down again, making sure to push his cock over her clit before he sank balls-deep in her sex.
She gasped and her teeth bit into him.
Yes.
Pleasure erupted. No other word. Like a volcano, burning, blasting away everything else. Her mouth moved lightly on his neck. Lips. Tongue. Those teeth sinking into him . . .
His cock jerked as he emptied into her core. The orgasm was the strongest one he’d ever had. And it went on and on and on, sending hard pulses of sensation—too intense to just be called pleasure—through him.
He held her tight. Held her as close as he could get. When her mouth finally pulled from his neck, when Sabine eased back to look up at him with dazed eyes, he knew he’d found the one person he’d been looking for all those long centuries.
Ryder also knew that he’d destroy anyone or anything that ever tried to take her from him.
Mine.
He didn’t know if Wyatt had done something with his experiments to force the intense connection that he felt with her. Maybe the mad scientist had linked them somehow.
Ryder didn’t care about how he’d come to be linked to her.
He pushed into Sabine. Saw her pupils widen.
He only
cared that he had her. Beneath him. With him.
He had such plans for her. This was just the start for them.
He forced himself to release her because Ryder knew he held her too tight. His hands flattened on either side of her body, sinking into the mattress, and he pushed up so that he wouldn’t crush her.
Her gaze met his. She stared up at him with shock. “What did I . . . ?”
He didn’t speak. Just waited for the truth to sink in.
When a tear slid down her cheek, he felt like she’d just cut out his heart.
Been there, done that before. But this time, it hurt more than when his brother had shoved that heavy sword into his heart.
“Sabine.”
Her lips pressed together. Pleasure still had his body replete, but tension, fear—because of his worry for her—sent a chill through him. “It’s your nature.” If sex hadn’t made her bloodlust come out, nothing would have. “When you fuck . . .”
She flinched beneath him.
“You feed,” he finished quietly.
Her hands pushed against his chest. “You need to know that your after-sex pillow talk sucks.”
He blinked. “Uh . . .” He hadn’t exactly had to worry about pillow talk. He didn’t usually make conversation with the women he screwed.
She’s not a woman I screwed. She’s . . . Sabine.
“Let me go,” she whispered, blinking quickly. “I can’t—”
Footsteps were pounding up the staircase. He heard them, coming too fast, and rolled away from her.
She scrambled for her clothes, looking rumpled and sexy, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave her.
But a threat was coming.
He yanked on his jeans. Rushed for the door even as the wooden frame shook beneath the blow of a powerful fist.
Ryder yanked open the door. Grayson stared back at him. “Problem,” the other vampire snapped. His gaze cut to Ryder’s right. The floor creaked beneath Sabine’s footsteps. “Her brother didn’t show up at St. Mary’s Hospital.”
“Wh-what?” Sabine asked, pushing past Ryder. She was mussed, flushed, and smelled of sex.
Grayson’s nostrils widened. He licked his lips, and his gaze drifted over her.
Locking his back teeth, Ryder stepped forward and shoved his only friend back. “Where’s her brother?”