Blood Redemption

by Tessa Dawn

  Saber turned on the charm and smiled, not too brazenly, but just enough.

  She had a generous, overexposed chest and a long, graceful neck, which meant easy access for him, a quick, clean bite. And she was definitely willing. Oh, was she ever willing.

  He began to make his way across the bar.

  It was time to stalk his prey.

  Vanya pulled the quaint brass arm on the vintage slot machine for the umpteenth time, waiting to see what images would pop up on the pay line, another mismatched set of pine cones, wolves, and gold nuggets or a winning combination?

  They had been at it for hours—Vanya, Ciopori, and Kristina Silivasi—making their way through the Dark Moon Casino, trying their hand at craps, poker, and the slots. It had started out as a sisters’ night out, Ciopori’s sympathetic idea to spend more time with Vanya, to try and keep her mind off her troubles; but it had ended up as a threesome when they ran into Kristina Riley-Silivasi at the casino door. Not only did the rambunctious redhead live nearby, on the top floor of the Dark Moon Lodge, but she used to be a cocktail waitress for the casino before Marquis had mistakenly claimed her as his destiny; and she swore she knew every hot spot on the floor, exactly what to play to strike it rich.

  Judging by the losing line-up that appeared on the screen, Vanya was no longer convinced that Kristina knew anything at all, let alone what she had promised. She was just about to give the arm another crank when the screen turned gray, the woodland images disappeared, and a milky scene of a smoke-filled bar appeared in place of the icons. What in the world? Was her vision playing tricks on her?

  She leaned in closer to view the image more carefully. There was an old saloon feel to the tavern; the floors were covered in wide plank oak, most of the slats littered with the remnants of shelled peanuts; and some ghastly rendition of “Back in the Saddle Again” was playing in the background, as lonely, inebriated humans milled about, drinking, dancing, and talking.

  And Saber was standing right in the midst of the scene, talking to a tall, scrawny brunette by a bar. Vanya gasped, and then she narrowed her focus. The female was dressed like a lady of the night, her garish lime-green top appearing more like a string-bikini than a cropped vest, and if her miniskirt grew any more…mini…she would be sharing her secrets with the world. And Saber? The male was leaning into her like a jungle cat about to climb a tree, smiling that wicked, way-too-sexy grin and whispering something in her ear!

  Vanya drew back in disbelief.

  Her mouth fell open and her body grew tense.

  And then she leaned in once more to take a closer look. The picture was coming into much clearer focus now, and she could see every movement, every nuance and impropriety, in great detail.

  Saber was…laughing now.

  Laughing!

  As if the dragon possessed anything resembling a sense of humor in his wicked repertoire.

  Vanya set down her own cocktail, a small tasteful glass of Kahlua and cream, and practically pressed her nose to the screen. Saber brushed his hand against the woman’s bare hip, tightened his fingers at the small of her back, and whispered something else in her ear.

  What had he said?

  Vanya didn’t know, but by the look of mounting interest on the female’s face, it had traveled right down her spine and anchored in her solicitous toes. No doubt, the vampire was using coercion, but to what end?

  To seduce her?

  Vanya could hardly believe her eyes; and then she all at once connected the dots: Saber was there to feed. And he had chosen this awful, awful woman as his prey. Were there no acceptable alternatives around? Perhaps a much larger human male; a couch potato; or a construction worker? Surely, the blood of a male would be more satisfying…more nutritious.

  She sat back, not knowing what to do. How could he! she thought.

  Just then, Ciopori rounded Vanya’s chair, placed an elegant hand on the back of her stool, and leaned over to view the screen. “Are you having fun, sister?” she asked, clearly oblivious to the scene Vanya was viewing.

  “Don’t you see it?” Vanya asked.

  “See what?” Ciopori stared more intently at the screen and shrugged. “I see that you are not very lucky at slots.” She patted her on the back. “Keep at it. You have to win something eventually.”

  Vanya panted, almost unable to breathe. Saber was leaning further into the female now, his broad muscular chest brushing ever so slightly against the woman’s flagrantly overexposed chest; and he was dipping to her neck to…kiss her. Not to bite her, but to kiss her.

  Vanya bounded from the stool, stunned. And angry. Why in the world was kissing necessary—in order to feed? She hardly thought so. As she continued to watch in morbid fascination, and more than just a little horror, Saber reached for the human’s hand, pulled her up from the seat, and began to lead her out of the bar.

  Well, this was just…unacceptable.

  Vulgar.

  Hardly fitting of a male who had a six-week infant with another female, less than fifteen miles away.

  “What is it?” Ciopori said, clearly picking up on the fact that Vanya was troubled.

  “Where is Kristina?” Vanya said brusquely.

  Ciopori frowned. “I don’t know. She was standing by the roulette wheel, last I saw her. I think—”

  “What’s up, V?” Kristina said cheerfully, strolling casually up to the chair. “Looking for me?” Her bright blue eyes were alight with mischief.

  “Indeed,” Vanya responded testily. “Do you have your Corvette nearby?”

  Kristina looked mildly surprised. “Uh…yeah, I mean it’s in my garage. I don’t keep it in the parking lot; but yeah, I have it. Why?”

  “Are you too afraid of Saber to go anywhere near him?”

  Kristina blanched, her pale skin growing even paler. She was clearly remembering the horrific ordeal Saber had put her through not all that long ago. “Not sure,” she answered honestly. “What do you mean by near him?”

  “Would you take me to him?” Vanya asked directly.

  Ciopori spoke up sharply then. “What in the world is going on, Vanya? Whatever are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about taking a little drive to Silverton Creek, to the Black Bear Tavern.”

  “The Black Bear what?”

  “The Black Bear Tavern,” Vanya repeated, her blood beginning to boil.

  Kristina drove like the wild, newly made vampire she was, while Ciopori sat in the backseat, staring out the window with unconcealed dread on her face; and Vanya stirred restlessly in the passenger seat, trying uselessly to get hold of her emotions.

  Why was she doing this?

  Was she insane?

  Absolutely certifiable?

  What difference did it make to her if Saber kissed the woman, bit the woman, and danced her into the sunset?

  She shook her head, tossing her long blond locks behind her shoulder in an effort to clear her mind. Nothing made sense anymore. None of it. She had no idea what she was doing, why she was doing it, or what she possibly hoped to get out of it, other than to grab a tiger by the tail. She only knew that every living, breathing cell in her body was rebelling violently against what she had seen on that screen, and she could no more deny the impulse, or to try and stop it, than she could ignore Lucien when he cried at night, or Nikolai when he reached for her arms.

  The seconds seemed like minutes. The minutes seemed like hours. The miles seemed eternal as Kristina expertly steered the Corvette through one s-turn after another, heading up the steep pass toward the quaint mountain town. Would they never get there? And what if they were too late?

  Gods be merciful—too late for what?

  Vanya wrung her hands together and forced herself to stare out the window the rest of the way. She was physically relieved when they finally pulled into the gravel drive, and the large iron sign, a black bear standing on his haunches, holding a mug of beer, finally came into view. The pink Corvette had barely come to a stop when Vanya yanked on the pass
enger door-handle, threw open the door, and marched defiantly toward the entrance of the bar. She stopped then, trying to sense him, Saber and the human female. Yes, they were still inside the club, but no longer across the room, no longer by the bar. They were very close to the front door. Whatever for?

  Refusing to hesitate, lest she lose her courage—or regain her senses—Vanya smoothed her skirt, glanced briefly at her own white boots, and strolled through the door.

  Saber saw her immediately.

  He stood up from the tall, circular table, where he was now sharing a drink with the human, and took a surprised step to the side, his eyes locked in fierce challenge with Vanya’s.

  “Princess?” he said, his voice revealing his astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

  Vanya could hardly get her tongue to work. “I could ask you the same thing, Dragon.” She turned to glare at the human female. “And this? What is this about?”

  “This?” the woman said sharply. “Who are you calling this?”

  Vanya rolled her elegant eyes and snorted. “Don’t you have a pole to go dance around or something?”

  The female jumped up from her perch at the table and squared her shoulders to Saber. “Sweetheart, is this your wife or something?”

  Sweetheart? Vanya practically seethed. This woman didn’t know a scorpion from a puppy. What a fool!

  Saber caught sight of Vanya’s expression and gawked. He was momentarily speechless. Finally, he sought a telepathic connection and in a deep, psychic tone said: Princess, I have to feed. And you are interrupting.

  Vanya spun around on him like Wyatt Earp at the OK Corral. Feed? Feed! Oh, is that what you call it? She took a measured step forward and waved her hand through the air in a reckless fashion, indicating the human female. You feed with your fangs, Vampire, not with your hands…or your mouth…or your lips! And you certainly don’t need to dress like a gunslinger to do it. She practically scowled then. She knew she looked unbalanced, but she just didn’t care. Yet here you are, dressed like some dark, dangerous drifter—she huffed with indignation—looking for all intents and purposes like…like…sex on a stick, trying to sink your fangs into some two-bit street walker.

  Saber cocked his head to the side slowly, inadvertently. His severe coal-black eyes grew even darker with understanding, and his cruel mouth turned up in a smile. Sex on a stick? he repeated, his tongue darting out to moisten his bottom lip. I see.

  “You see?” Vanya retorted, forgetting to speak telepathically. “What do you see?” Before he could answer, she fumed: “No, you don’t see, Dragon. You don’t see anything!” She turned to glare at the brunette once more—dearest lords, she had finally gone completely off the deep end. “It’s a wonder you can see anything with those obnoxious breasts in your face. And just how much silicone did you have to buy to inflate those balloons, anyway?” she added, glaring at the human.

  Now that was petty and beneath her dignity, but oh well—it was too late to take it back.

  Saber looked positively thunderstruck.

  “Bitch,” the human snarled, raising her hand to waggle her finger in Vanya’s face. “Unless you have some claim on this man, I suggest you get the hell out of my face.”

  Vanya recoiled. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” the woman said.

  Vanya cleared her throat. “This…this male…you are so smitten by has a six-week-old child: Did he tell you that?”

  “What!” Saber exclaimed, clearly unable to hold his tongue any longer. “A child you refuse to let me see!”

  “That is hardly the point!” Vanya retorted.

  “So what,” the human said brazenly. And then she took a calculated step forward and looked Vanya up and down with contempt. Although she tried to appear haughty and self-assured, she faltered the moment she took a good hard look at Vanya, and it was obvious by the wilted expression in her eyes that she was intimidated by what she saw. After all, there was beauty, and then there was beauty. And this human female could not hold a candle to a celestial princess on her best day…or Vanya’s worst.

  “So what?” Vanya repeated.

  “So, I don’t care what he has at home,” the female retorted, recovering beautifully. She looked Saber slowly up and down and smiled licentiously. “What I’m after isn’t sleeping in a crib.” She stared blatantly at Saber’s groin and practically purred. “And unless this grown-ass man has changed his mind about giving it to me, you need to just go home to the little brat and deal with it. Maybe he’ll be home later.” She smirked and stuck out her chin. “Maybe he won’t.”

  Kristina Silivasi snaked up to Vanya’s side and gasped. Apparently, she had just entered the bar and caught the tail end of the conversation. She looked at Saber with more than a little trepidation in her eyes and tried to gain control over her fear. And then she turned back to the human female and obviously remembered what she had just heard. “Oh, hell no,” she said, tossing her generous s-curls behind her back and reaching up to remove an earring. “No this tramp didn’t. You want me to slap the sense God didn’t give her into that feeble mind, Vanya?”

  The woman rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion. She reached up to run a long, painted nail down the front of Saber’s chest, switched her hips seductively from side to side, and leaned into him in an exaggerated fashion. “Are we still going out to your truck, sweetie, or what?”

  “Your truck?” Vanya parroted sarcastically. “What truck? So we are practicing grand theft auto now?”

  Saber pushed the human female aside and stared at Vanya with molten savagery. As his eyes flashed dangerously crimson, he snarled in warning. “I rented a Ford F350 a month ago, something to drive while I figure out what I’m going to do next, not that I owe you an explanation.” His eyes roamed from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head as he took her full measure. “You don’t know anything about my life, Vanya, what I have or don’t have, and that was your choice—no, your demand. And for a dark, soulless bastard, you might not have noticed, but I have honored that demand every second of every day. I have honored you. And Lucien!” He lowered his voice to a haunting, silky purr. “And not because it’s been easy. So, I’ll ask you one more time: What are you doing here?”

  Vanya felt like Saber’s words had been delivered with a dagger, and maybe it was because there was so much truth in them. They swirled around her head like bats in a cave, failing to find a purchase, and the confusion only made her more agitated. She reached out to touch Kristina’s arm, sensing that the volatile redhead was only one heartbeat away from assaulting the human female—and wouldn’t that just provoke Napolean into locking them all up as nut cases? “Kristina,” she said coolly. “Do you attend Jocelyn and Nathaniel’s self-defense course?”

  Kristina wrinkled her brow. “Yeah, of course; I have to. Why?”

  “Then you carry the required dagger?” She looked down at Kristina’s bright pink handbag and waited for an answer.

  “Uh…yeah?” Kristina said. “V, where do you think you’re going with this?”

  “Give it to me.”

  Kristina looked at Saber and shivered. “Uh, not a good idea, Princess.”

  “Give it to me.”

  All at once, the human female turned pale and took a judicious step back, raising both hands in the air. “Whoa, honey…hey, I didn’t realize it was that serious. He’s yours, okay?”

  Kristina reached into her purse and withdrew the dagger cautiously, passing it as inconspicuously as possible to Vanya, while watching Saber’s every move like a hawk—she clearly expected the vampire to spring at any moment and rip all of their throats out. Turning to regard the human female, she whispered a clear command, laced with blatant compulsion: “Sit down, and shut up.”

  The woman instantly obeyed.

  Vanya accepted the dagger, held it close to her heart, and spun on her heel, marching angrily out the front door. As bitter tears of confusion streamed down her face, she headed directly for the large, shiny F350, par
ked near the front of the lot, and proceeded to promptly puncture all four tires, one at a time, like a full-fledged lunatic.

  Who cared at this juncture?

  Who cared about any of it anymore?

  Saber followed her outdoors and watched as she took her considerable angst out on his truck. But to his credit, he did not interfere or try to stop her. In fact, he didn’t say a word. And truth be told, he looked like the cat had stolen his tongue, long ago in the tavern: He couldn’t have formed a sentence if he had wanted to.

  “There,” Vanya said, handing the blade back to Kristina, who had also followed them outside. “It would appear as if your…mobile hotel…is no longer viable, Dragon.” She tossed her long, flowing hair behind her shoulder, feeling like an utter fool. “So if you want to go back inside and get your prey, then I suppose you’ll have to get better acquainted somewhere else.”

  Now that was just nonsensical.

  Perhaps even borderline…feeble-minded.

  What difference did it make if his tires were flat?

  No matter.

  Turning once again on her heel, Vanya marched back to the pink Corvette. “Come on, Kristina. We’re going home.”

  Kristina practically ran to catch up, and then she quickly drew ahead, all the while fumbling frantically for her keys. “Holy shit,” she whispered.

  Once at the car, Vanya yanked wildly at the passenger door, quickly ducked inside, and sank morbidly into the pale leather seat. She felt as if she were going to be sick. As Kristina groped wildly, trying to get her keys in the ignition, Vanya turned to regard Ciopori, who was sitting, like she had just seen a ghost, in the backseat: Her golden eyes were enormous with shock; her arms were folded tightly around her body; and her mouth was gaping open in disbelief.

  After a pregnant moment, Ciopori finally swallowed her shock and cleared her throat. “Sister.” The regal female spoke quietly, deliberately. “You do know that I love you, correct?”

  Vanya wiped a burning tear from her eye and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  “Then you know that what I’m about to tell you truly comes from the heart, don’t you?”