Even with the light, it was dark in their bedroom, the raven-black drapes sealed tight to protect from the sun. She sat on the edge of their four-poster bed and rubbed her hand across the white and black floral comforter, suddenly determined not to rest until they hashed this out. Until he understood he’d done nothing wrong. Nothing against her will.
Their beliefs on this topic might be as opposite as the colors on their duvet, Eve realized, tracing over the black fabric vines with her finger. But every night they came together beneath it. Made love between those starkly contrasting sheets. Became one.
They could meet eye to eye on this. Ruan would have to understand there was no one to blame. It was the natural progression of their relationship. Eventually, he’d feed from her.
End of story.
She met his eyes, careful to hide the mark on her leg with the towel. He didn’t need the reminder of what happened any more than she needed him to feel guilty for it. “You have to know that you didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t want. I’ve asked you to bite me before—”
“And I’ve always refused,” he interrupted, a heated pitch in his voice. “I’ve always been able to restrain myself. I can’t bear to cause you pain, Eve. You’re innocent. Perfect. You shouldn’t have to suffer because I can’t control my primal urges.”
“First off, I’m not perfect. Not by a long shot. I’ve got enough baggage to screw me up for a lifetime, believe me. Sometimes, when I think of my family and where I came from, I feel like I have more to get over than anyone else.”
“Now you do,” he said under his breath, glaring at the bite mark hidden beneath the towel. “Because of me.”
She ignored his comment. She knew he wasn’t trying to get her to stroke his ego. He was fuming inside, struggling to keep his anger cool. He needed her more than she’d initially realized. “Second, they’re instincts, not urges, Ruan. You can’t blame yourself for your vampire genetics. Should I think what happened was my fault because I’m human and my blood is too pure for you to resist? Would that be fair?”
He pondered the thought. “No, I wouldn’t want you to carry that burden. But I’m not the one who got hurt. You are. By my mouth. The same one that professes to love you.” He sat beside her, the sheer size of him dwarfing the king-size mattress. “But I’m done talking about this. I know what I have to do next time and you need rest. You have work tomorrow.”
“I don’t want you to sweep what happened under the rug unless you understand something.” She needed to get through to him. She could feel him pulling away, burying his feelings beneath a tough exterior. Her heart raced at the thought of losing him, and what they shared. She grabbed his hand and clutched it against her chest. “I never thought love could feel like this.”
His eyes shot to hers. “Jesus, your heart is beating out of your chest. Maybe you should lie down.”
She smiled at his feeble attempt to smother her with his body and their sheets. “Sometimes I don’t know if my heart can bear the love I have for you. If I die tomorrow it won’t be from some bite mark on my leg. It will be because I loved you too deeply.” She paused when Ruan shivered and stared into space. Almost like he’d heard those words before and was trying to place them, though there was no reason he would have. “I know you feel the same . . .”
“I do, but that doesn’t make what I did right.”
“Everything that happened tonight was perfect. I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I liked it.”
“Don’t say that.” He shook his head disbelievingly, stood, and paced to the cherrywood dresser. He pulled out a pair of boxers and shoved his legs into them. “I won’t let it happen again. Do you see your thigh? Do you know how long that will take to heal? Do you think I want to be the one responsible for that? When I look at you . . . knowing you’ll see that mark every day . . . what you must think of me . . .” He wasn’t making sense anymore.
Eve stood and caught Ruan around his broad shoulders before he could dress further. “Look in my eyes . . . hear what I’m about to say to you. I thoroughly enjoyed myself from the moment you kissed me. That includes the moment you took the vein on my thigh.” He looked away, his square jaw pulsing. She caught his chin with her finger and brought his gaze back to center. “Don’t be sorry for a thing. I love you more and more each day I’m with you. If you can understand that this is all I’ve ever wanted, we can forget about all of it and move on. Can you do that?”
His hands slid around her waist, giving her the touch she craved while doubt shadowed his eyes. He’d never understand; she could see that now. He was putting a wall between them, one that could seriously harm their relationship . . . if she let him build it. Why couldn’t he just see that the differences between their races didn’t bother her? He didn’t choose to be a vampire any more than she chose to be a human. Why did he insist on punishing himself for habits that were in his nature? And why was that punishment pushing her away when all she wanted to do was be closer to him?
“I don’t deserve you.” His eyes trailed across her jaw and settled on her neck. Hunger rounded his pupils to giant black orbs. Jesus, how long had it been since he’d fed longer than the sip he’d taken from her? “If you knew what was good for you, you’d forget you ever met me.”
Without letting his words settle, she lifted up on tiptoe and kissed him. “If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t be with someone who refuses to back down from a challenge. I won’t let you put distance between us.” She unhooked the towel from her chest and let it fall. His gaze followed it all the way down to the hardwood floor. A low growl rode an exhale out of his chest. “Come to bed. Let me help you remember why we belong together.”
Chapter Four
“Never allow your vampiric strength to weaken your moral character.”
San Francisco Haven Rule #2
RUAN WASN’T SURE what time he’d dozed off. The last thing he remembered, Eve was coiled beside him, making little whimpers in her sleep, her back pressed against his chest, her head lying in the crook of his arm. She was nude. He was uncomfortable, having gone another interlude with her without releasing his own tension.
He couldn’t sleep. Not tonight anyway. There was too much to do. Daylight was a few hours away and he could get all the sleep he needed then. No matter how he’d tried, he couldn’t pull himself out of their bed.
So he’d stayed. Stared at the ceiling. Thought about Eve and what happened in the warehouse.
It never used to be like this. When they’d first gotten together four weeks ago—had it only been four weeks?—the sex was scorching hot, the bloodlust manageable. He could screw her every minute of every hour all night long and easily control the urge to pierce her vein.
The more time passed—the longer he was with her, the more comfortable things got between them, or the more his love for her deepened—the more he wanted, needed, to drink from her.
It was all he could think about anymore.
How could he have let himself get that carried away tonight? He’d bitten the hell out of her thigh, for Christ’s sake. Like he was a ravenous animal, incapable of controlling his basic needs. Usually he was the calm one. The level-headed bastard who could give her pleasure while showing restraint on his end. Keep his fangs where they belonged, tucked behind his gums.
But now, everything was a bloody mess. Literally.
He’d been so close to the edge when that first taste of her sweet nectar passed his lips. So close to pulling all of her blood into him, without a second thought about her pain . . . or her pleasure. Something inside him burned for her the moment they’d made contact. That burn escalated when those first draws of blood slid down his throat. Only when her blood hit his stomach, warming him from the inside out, did the fire in him die down. Somehow her blood soothed him on a level he’d never known. It was more than nutritional. More than desire.
It was e
verything he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever needed. Logic played no part in his blood-thirsty greed.
And it had hurt her.
It pained Ruan to look her in the eyes when they got back to the apartment. Shame spread through his body like a virus, infecting his every thought. He could’ve finished that Alvambra bottle of AB before training. That might’ve warded off the hunger pains. He could’ve sent Eve home, where she really would’ve been safe. Safe and away from him.
But no. He’d gone and crossed an unforgivable line. He’d caused her pain. Soiled her legs with her own blood. Punctured that perfect skin with his damn canines.
Riddled with regret, Ruan’s stomach soured at the thought of—oh God—Eve’s blood passing through his system. He was about to explode out of his skin. He chastised himself for the hundredth time for ever thinking he could love a mundane, lay with one every night—without the urge to feed from her.
He was such a bastard. A selfish, blood-thirsty bastard. Even still, with all the remorse swirling in his head, he knew there was no way in hell he could stay away from her.
Lying in bed, wide-awake but unable to tear himself out of Eve’s embrace, he’d crossed off a mental checklist. He needed to secure another shipment of Alvambra, blood bottled locally for San Francisco vamps, with a quickness. Maybe he was going through another growth spurt, God help him. Maybe his caloric intake was increasing. He supposed that could be the reason for the enhanced bloodlust.
Whatever the reason, he had to get a grip on it fast.
Staying away from Eve would hurt him more than he’d care to admit to himself. But if it came down to it, and he couldn’t squelch the fire burning in his gut for her blood, he’d hurt himself before hurting her.
Somewhere between searching his memory for the date of his last feeding and thoughts of Eve and the succulence of blood rushing beneath her skin, Ruan succumbed to sleep.
When the nightmare started, everything was dark. Black as the blackest night. Heavy breathing and the hard pounding of a heart—probably his own—drowned out all sound. Anxiety and unease chilled his bones, sending pinpricks of anticipation buzzing across his skin.
Like the sudden and absolute strike of a lightning bolt, he was sucked into the nightmare full-force. It was like tunnel vision. A wormhole taking him to another time. A vortex from which there was no escape and no free will. Ruan helplessly surrendered to the nightmare and what it would reveal to him this time around.
Without sight or bearing, a dull ache in his chest had him clamping a fist against his rib cage. Within seconds that numbing pain became a stabbing force threatening to bring him to his knees. Hissing in pain, Ruan massaged small circles against his chest . . . and realized his hands were soaking wet.
He dragged his hands up to eye level and stumbled backward. Blood blanketed his fingers, reached toward his shoulders and around the left side of his chest. Near his heart. His breathing snagged at the sight. His heart drummed erratically in his chest. Against the words screaming in his head, he glanced down his body to the floor at his feet.
Something was wrong. He’d done something terribly wrong!
There, lying crookedly on the cold concrete was Eve. She wore nothing but a thin chemise gown, the straps hanging far off her shoulders to reveal the plumpness of her bare breasts. Her hair was a tangled mess of blood and mud. Her expression was blank. And she was pale. Far too pale.
Ruan dropped to his knees, ghosting his hands over her lifeless body. She was dead. It didn’t take the two-finger test against her jugular for him to figure it out. He could feel it with every part of his being. The pain in his chest made sense now. His heart was in pieces. Was it her blood that covered him?
Distracted by the disjointed thoughts swarming in his head, Ruan followed a red smudge from her knee to her thigh, and lightly tugged her nightgown up. Staring him in the face was the same scarlet mark he’d ravaged her with in the warehouse. His gaze skidded up her body with renewed clarity. The same mangled marks covered both sides of her neck, the open palms of her hands, and the soft curves of her waist.
She’d been attacked. Taken advantage of, drained, and left for dead.
Reflexively, he put a hand to his mouth. And came away with globs of blood from his lips.
Oh God. The metallic taste of blood still tingled on his tongue. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sweet taste of Eve coating his throat, as the realization hit him. He did this to her. He filled her up with his sex. Drained her dry with his mouth.
To his horror, there wasn’t a lick of remorse in his body for what he’d done. She was his. To do with what he wanted. And he wanted more.
Beyond his control, he bent over her and planted a wet, bloody kiss on her mouth. When her lips remained pout and firm from death’s last breath, Ruan greedily bit into the flesh of her bottom lip and tugged it into his mouth.
He shot out of bed with a holler.
“Are you all right?” Eve asked, startled. She sat upright, clutching the sheet to her breasts.
“I’m fine.” I can still taste the alluring tang of your blood on my lips. “Go back to sleep.”
“You’re sweating.” She fanned the sheet. “Geez, you’re burning up.”
Yanking back the covers, Ruan slid out of bed. He had to get some space. Somewhere he couldn’t be tempted by the nearness of Eve and the delicious memory of the nightmare.
By the time he got to the bathroom to splash his face with cool water, the nightmare was evaporating as quickly as it came. Details became blurred. Was he covered in blood? Was she? Where had they been? Within seconds, the only thing Ruan knew for certain was that he’d bit Eve . . . killed her, maybe . . . and he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself.
Before he could grasp hold of the snippets of nightmare, Eve appeared in the doorway, sleepy-eyed and wild-haired, her white satin chemise showing enough skin to make Ruan squirm, even now. She leaned against the jamb, arms folded, sizing him up and down. “You had another one, didn’t you? Another nightmare?”
The water felt refreshing as he splashed it onto his face and down his neck. His fangs retreated to their proper place. His pulse slowed. Just what he needed. “Yeah, but it was nothing. Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”
He’d thought about telling Eve about his nightmares a thousand times over. But what would come of it? She’d either get spooked and think him a monster or push closer, insisting it didn’t mean a thing. If Ruan was honest with himself, he knew both options were unacceptable. Even though he hated his nightmares and what they insinuated about his true nature, he didn’t want the love of his life viewing him that way. And he really didn’t need Eve patronizing him, smothering him with talk about how his instincts are “natural”. No, there was nothing natural about his dreams. Why couldn’t they just live normal lives, with normal beliefs about the world and normal cravings?
“Do you remember anything this time?” Eve walked behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and kissed his back. “Was it the same as the others?”
He shook his head and glanced at the mirror behind heavily-lidded eyes. He didn’t know what he expected to see in the reflection. A demon, maybe? That’s how he felt. Instead, he saw Eve, peeking out from behind his back, a tired droop to her gaze.
God, he wished he could remember every last bit of the nightmare. Maybe then he could figure out what the hell was going on—what the recurring dreams meant—and stop feeling this way every time he woke up. “It was the same. At least I think it was the same.”
He lied. It wasn’t the same and he knew it. Every other time he’d woken up feeling guilty and burdened, like he’d done something seriously wrong. He’d always known Eve was in trouble. And he’d told her so, time and time again. The feeling that he’d hurt her was always strong, even hours after waking.
But this nightmare was horribly different. He could still taste her. That had never happ
ened before. It was almost like the nightmare had carried over, beyond the realm of sleep. He wondered if it had anything to do with losing control earlier. He cupped water from the faucet into his hands and drank greedily. He needed to cleanse his mouth and wash out the taste of her blood.
“I’m safe, Ruan,” Eve whispered, knowing how many times he’d shot out of bed screaming her name. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not in any kind of danger. Dylan and Slade would tell us if there was another rebellion . . . if any rogue vamps were after me for my blood. They would’ve sent word. The last email you got said that—”
“I know. It said she’d successfully duplicated your blood. I know you’re not in danger like you were before, but that doesn’t mean there’s not still a threat.” Especially from me.
Eve kissed him lightly. A feather-soft flutter across the span of his back. “Call her. I’m sure Dylan’s at ReVamp at this hour. Find out for yourself. You’ll see. Your nightmares are just that—nightmares. You’re worried for nothing.”
He sighed heavily, trying to let her words sink in. Eve had the purest blood of any mundane on record. Blood that’d make the most chaste vampire moan with hunger. But they’d run from their haven. Sought refuge together, far from the prying eyes of any khiss. Dylan had spent tireless hours at ReVamp, duplicating Eve’s blood to protect her. Ruan had vowed to keep Eve safe from harm. Turns out he needed to be wary of himself most of all. Didn’t see that one coming.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” He didn’t sound convincing.
“I’m serious, Ruan. I think it’ll help if you talk to her. Maybe the nightmares would go away completely.”
He turned and kissed her on the forehead. He’d had a nightmare every night since he’d first made love to Eve. It wasn’t about to change because of a simple talk with his former flame. And he’d had enough chit-chat to last him a lifetime. “I think your students are going to have one useless professor in the morning if you don’t get some sleep.”
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