He felt pulled to dominate her. He kissed her with bruising force and she fisted her fingers in his hair until his scalp stung. He pressed her lower body deeper into the bed and yanked her arms above her head, forcing them away from his hair. She opened her eyes and he saw that they were completely dilated. Her irises were so pale they were almost the color of diamonds. The contrasting black slits now splitting them apart only added to their beauty.
She nipped at his lips with her sharp, little fangs and he tasted blood. Pulling back, he watched her, giving them each a momentary reprieve to gain control of themselves. They were each breathing heavily. With every breath her breasts pressed into his hard chest. He could feel her nipples protruding beneath the fabric of her dress. Her face was flushed and her lips swollen.
“You are so beautiful, Larissa.” She simply looked at him through cat eyes. Slowly, he leaned down and licked the fullness of her lower lip. A low purr began to hum from deep within her throat. “This,” he said, licking the pulse that fluttered just below her ear, “is not the reaction of a cold female.” He pressed himself more firmly into the cradle of her hips. “You are afraid, bellissima, but I assure you, you are not cold. Integrity is admitting truth in all matters. Have the integrity to admit that you are a warm-blooded female with a healthy appetite for your mate.”
“I want no mate.”
“Liar.” He rotated his hip again and her lashes lowered, leaving only half-lidded slits looking back at him.
“You are old and delusional. You do not know what you are talking about.”
He chuckled. “I may be old, but I am not dead.” He licked at her throat and she submitted a bit more, rolling her head to the side so that he could better sample her flesh. “It will be different between us, Larissa. It will be how it should have always been for you. The way God intended it, beautiful. There will be no pain when I take you as my mate, only plesseer, pleasure. You will see.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I will show you.” He nuzzled his nose to hers. “All you have to do”—a lick across her open mouth—“is ask me.”
He pushed himself up off of the bed. He hid a smile at the sound of protest she let slip. He fought the agony raging inside his pants, begging for relief, and walked to the door. Larissa remained on the bed, arms suspended above her head, nipples forming twin peaks under her dress, legs sprawled, and hair wild. She was stunning. Allowing himself one last look, he turned to leave. Just before he walked out of the room, he reminded her one last time, “All you need to do is ask.”
Chapter 15
As night fell and the temperature continued to drop, Cain hunched his shoulders and moved farther into the forest. He had purchased some items in town today in order to set up a fake camp in order to lure whatever was lurking in the woods out of hiding. He lit a fire, but its heat did nothing to warm him as he was several yards away in the shadows. He had set up camp and littered the area with mortal items, from food packages to women’s perfume. He had even gone as far as visiting a thrift store to purchase some items of female clothing in hopes that some mortal scent still existed in the fibers.
He had been waiting silently for hours and was convinced he would be there the following night because nothing had happened yet. When there was suddenly a snap of a branch in the distance, he rethought his plans. He turned toward the sound and listened. He heard the slight crunch of leaves and then a rush of fast movement circling the faux camp. His body heated with anticipation and his limbs loosened in preparation for whatever was out there.
Although he had never met his Uncle Isaiah, he had been told he looked exactly like his grandfather. The forest grew eerily quiet, a sign that a predator was near. Cain scanned the nearby shadows for any unnatural movement. To his left another branch snapped. He was certain he was not alone.
A low growl sounded and carried to his ears. He smiled and growled back at the intruder. Without pause the growl grew in volume and intensity as something rushed past him and to his right. He had found his prey.
Cain dropped a little lower and prepared to battle whatever was lurking in these woods to the death. He had no doubt his opponent was out for his blood as well. The creature seemed to be enjoying the game of cat and mouse, only it remained undetermined who was the cat and who was the mouse.
He remained alert, as if in the center of what they had determined the arena, and allowed the other male to have his fun. The beast hissed and continued to circle Cain too fast for him to ever truly lay eyes on, but the scent was there now. Vampyre.
A creak sounded from high above in the canopy of dried branches and withering autumn leaves. Cain turned toward the sound. There, about a hundred feet up, was his prey. The animal stood upon a fat, winding branch of a sycamore while grasping another limb in his hands. His legs were spread and his posture was that of a wild animal more than that of a man. Branches rustled and he watched as it leapt from one tree to another. Its comfort with the elements was evident in the way it moved with such confident agility.
Growing tired of the production, Cain sighed and casually shouted in a bored voice, “If this is how you expect to intimidate me, I must tell you, I am highly disappointed. I expected a male capable of such slaughter would at least have the gall to show himself. Ferleicht I was wrong.” There was a swift jostle above and then a body dropped directly in front of him and sprung to its feet. “Perhaps not,” he commented as he took in his opponent.
Only it was no male. The creature was female. Her eyes were so dark they appeared completely black. Cain could not tell where her irises ended and her pupils began. Her flesh was filthy without a stitch of clothing and her hair was long and matted with dried clumps of mud and debris. Cain fought the urge to step away from the repulsive odor pouring off the female.
“Who are you?” he whispered as if asking himself.
“Who are you?” the female echoed back, mimicking the inflections of his own voice, only her voice was nothing like any other female he had ever met. She spoke as if she had swallowed handfuls of glass and chased them with some razor blades. It was unnatural, the way her voice scraped past her lips.
“How did you come here?”
“How did you come here?” she mimicked again, this time showing him a glimpse of her rotted teeth.
“Are you the one killing all the women?”
“Are you the one killing all the women?”
Cain rolled his eyes. A looker and smart. “Do you speak English?”
“Do you speak English?” She spoke slowly as if it were the first time she had ever wrapped her lips around such words. Her voice rasped in such a vile way it made it difficult to listen to. Then Cain noticed something on the female’s hip. A tattoo.
Vampyres could not get tattoos. Well, they could, but they would only fade and heal. This female however had one on her hip. He squinted, trying to read the scrolling print under the layer of filth that coated her skin. Ricky.
He looked at her. “You are a transition.”
“You are a transition.”
He sighed. “Really? Is this how it’s going to be?”
“Really? Is this how it’s going to be?”
Great. He had stumbled across a deranged parakeet. “Who is your sire?”
“Who is your sire?”
Cain pinched the bridge of his nose. This could go on forever. Perhaps he should bring the girl back to his farm and hand her over to the council. Of course that could just upset them. They hadn’t seemed too concerned over the presence of a rogue. Why would he assume anything had changed? He had taken this mission upon himself. For the protection of those in the woods and those of their own kind, this thing needed to be destroyed.
Cain knew he would never be called. He couldn’t. Annalise was his mate and he had given her to his brother. Perhaps this was his purpose in this life, to protect those who needed protection from rogue creatures of his own kind. While it was fun to play with the idea of being some kind of trumped-up hunter, the idea of destroying this female did not
suit him. Females were gentle, soft creatures, meant to be loved and caressed.
“Look, if we could just talk, perhaps you could come out of this situation alive.”
“Alive.”
Dear God, this was going to continue forever. “How did you come here?” He shouted as if she had a hearing problem rather than a processing one.
“How did you come here! How did you come here! How did you come here!” She began to cackle. She lowered to her haunches, exposing herself to him, and rocking back and forth. It was the first time Cain ever recalled turning away from a peep at a woman’s parts.
“Dear Lord, woman, cover yourself,” he said, turning away and she suddenly became silent as if she understood his words. He turned back to her and frowned. “Oh, come on. Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend—”
Before he could finish his apology, she hissed and lunged at him, her claws scraping over his chest, slicing right through his clothing and bloodying his flesh.
He threw her from him and they faced off as they each caught their breath. He looked down at the damage she had done to his body and shook his head in irritation. Looking back at her, he growled, “Game on, bitch.”
* * * *
Annalise entered the house and called for Abilene. She was supposed to meet her at the barn so that they could take a buggy to town, but her mother-in-law had not shown up. “Mom?” she called as she walked through the kitchen. “Abilene? Gracie? Jonas?”
The house was quiet. She moved up the stairs, but paused as she heard a sound coming from Adam’s old room. She stilled and recognized the sound as crying, Abilene’s crying to be exact. She quickly moved to the door and stepped inside the room.
“Abilene.” She was curled up on her side, lying on Adam’s bed. Annalise almost stumbled as the other woman’s hunger beat at her. “Jesus, Abilene, you’re starving. When’s the last time you fed?”
Her mother-in-law made no attempt to answer her, only lay there staring at the wall through teary eyes, shaking. Gracie had mentioned she did not think her mother was feeding properly. Usually Abilene fed from Jonas, but since they had approached him about his calling, Jonas had been avoiding them all. They had reached a stalemate. Jonas had refused to follow his calling and Abilene refused to feed from anyone but her husband while he remained here on the farm. Annalise feared she was trying to beat her husband to the grave.
Taking matters into her own hands, Annalise sat behind Abilene on the bed. Reaching over, she pulled her mother’s head onto her lap. She bit her own wrist and held it out to her. Abilene’s fangs reflexively shot out at the scent of warm blood. “Drink, Mother.”
Abilene shook her head. “The baby—”
“The baby needs a grandmother. Now drink.”
Slowly Abilene took Annalise’s wrist into her mouth and began to feed. Annalise simply waited, using her other hand to smooth back her mother-in-law’s hair. It wasn’t long before her color began to return and her eyes regained some signs of life.
“No more of this, Abilene. You cannot allow this to happen again. We need you here with us.”
Abilene licked her wrist closed and nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Here, sit up. Let’s talk.”
Annalise pulled her legs under her knees and waited as Abilene sat up across from her. “I didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand. I just couldn’t bring myself to drink any more distilled blood. I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen again. You should not have allowed me to feed from you. It is against our laws, Anna. Your blood is for your mate and your children.”
Annalise waved a hand at her words. “I don’t care about those laws and my mate would have done the same thing.”
“Still, I am sorry.”
“Abilene, you know we would do anything for you. We love you—” Suddenly, as searing pain blazed across Annalise’s chest, she hissed and grabbed at her apron.
“Anna, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
Annalise tried to scream, but she could not speak over the pain. Her gown suddenly felt moist. She lifted her palm and began to panic at the sight of blood seeping from her chest, through her gown. “Get Adam,” she wheezed and Abilene fled from the room as fast as her legs would carry her.
* * * *
Cain sprung at the little she-witch, claws bared, fangs out, and flayed her flesh wide. She hissed and rolled to the ground in an attempt to escape him. They tumbled through the dry leaves covering the rocky ground and Cain flinched as he felt teeth bite into his flesh. Uncaring whether or not she was a female any longer, he backhanded the creature and it took a chunk of his shoulder with her when her head snapped back.
He hissed and jumped to his feet. The female stayed low, her position like a crab as she crawled along the ground. It became very clear to Cain, perhaps more that he originally grasped, that he would need to kill this female. He wanted to obtain any information from her before it came to that.
“Who is your sire? And do not repeat me!”
She began to laugh, her dry cackle echoing off the trees. “You not strong ’nough fer him.”
So she did speak. “That’s not what I asked.” They continued to circle one another. Cain’s chest was already beginning to heal, yet his shoulder still bled and burned.
“He bigger than yooooou,” she sung in that horrible voice.
“Hate to inform you, but size isn’t everything.”
She found that amusing. “There too many of us. Hun’reds.”
Cain froze. “There are more?”
“We his mates.”
Cain thought about what she was actually saying. Could it be possible? “You are all women,” he whispered as he suddenly began to comprehend what this could mean.
“Maaaaatessss,” she hissed, dropping her head between her shoulders and swaying her body in what Cain could only assume she intended to be a seductive display of mating. There was something so off with this female. She was a bit touched in the head, Cain concluded.
“What is his name?”
“What is his name?”
Dear God, not this again. “Answer me!”
Her mouth opened wide like that of a python just as it constricts before it attacks. She drew her shoulders back and her dirty claws spread wide. Cain knew whatever was coming would not be good.
* * * *
“Get more clean rags!” Adam shouted as he held Anna’s trembling body and tossed away yet another sopping red towel. “Anna, stay with me. I need you to stay with me.”
Her skin was damp and cool to his touch. Gracie kept a hand splayed over Anna’s abdomen, keeping a steady link with the baby.
“Sleep, Adam, I need to sleep.”
She began to slouch and he shouted, “No! Anna, you stay awake, do you hear me?”
The wound on her chest was beginning to heal. His mother returned with a stack of clean towels. He took one and pressed it into his mate’s chest.
“Has the blood stopped?” his mother asked from the door.
Before Adam could answer, Annalise’s scream filled the air. Right before his eyes, he watched as the flesh on her shoulder suddenly disappeared, as if it were being burned away, leaving nothing but a jagged gouge in its place. “For God’s sake, go get the healer!” he screamed and his mother ran out of the room.
* * * *
Cain grunted and pressed himself off the ground. He could taste bits of dirt on his tongue, mixing with his own blood. The female was incredibly strong for her size. Cain’s legs were beginning to tremble. He felt the burn of claw marks running over his back and arched to pull his frayed shirt off of the sticky blood running down his spine. This had gone on long enough.
Turning, he came up short when his opponent was not there. He looked around him and above. When he did not see her, he stilled and listened. He was not prepared when she suddenly dropped from fifty or so feet above onto his back. Her claws dug into his scalp as she reached around his neck and scraped the flesh of his throat.
* * * *
Galvanized into action, the man quickly came to Adam’s aid. He took up holding the bloodied towel over Anna’s shoulder so that Adam could tend to her back.
“Please, Adam,” she rasped, her eyes now closed. “Please, let me sleep.”
“No, ainsicht, you need to stay awake.”
“Perhaps it would be better if she slept. Less traumatic for the baby,” the healer suggested.
Adam looked at Gracie and she shrugged. Before he could make a decision, Anna shrieked. Her hands went to her skull as if she was trying to rip some invisible thing off her back and to his horror her throat began to run red with her blood. She fainted midscream.
“Let her sleep,” the healer suggested anxiously again, and Adam swallowed back his own tears and nodded.
* * * *
Cain pulled back his arm, prepared to strike her again when he suddenly felt something pull from deep within his mind. His balance faltered and the female disappeared once more.
“Tell me who your maker is!” he bellowed into the darkness, his own fangs dripping with blood and saliva. He had had enough. His muscles bunched as his breath sawed in and out of his lungs.
He heard her laughing from the canopy above and prepared to leap up and drag her down when there was again that strange pulling sensation in his mind. He grabbed his head and tried to shake whatever the sensation was away. When he looked back toward the trees, he was suddenly dizzy and extremely weak. What was happening to him? His vision winked in and out as he tried to regain his focus. He listened to the female cackling at him from the shadows above, but her voice sounded more distant.
Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 17