“I’m sorry that I don’t have much to report, but it was all I could to do the stay alive and come back to you,” she sighed and untied the sash. The robe opened, but didn’t reveal her nakedness completely. In a weak voice she said, “My captors were cruel, Sire, so very cruel. They kept me like an animal in cage!”
“There was nothing left in that building you were held in,” he said as he looked down on her upturned face. “Do you remember anything at all?” Sasha shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on him. He could practically taste her lust in the air.
Tristan stepped up to the bed then sat down next to her. Her cold hand squeezed his as she composed herself. Then he noticed it—her strong and steady pulse. Her heart had the usual weak beat of a vampire who wasn’t afraid or tormented at all. There was just her desire as it built up slowly.
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead as he stood again. At the door, her turned back to her. “I’ll send someone healthy and beautiful for you to feed on when you wake. You need more rest.”
Sasha rose slowly and approached Tristan with a fire in her eyes. As she approached, the robe slipped from her shoulders then to the floor. Her only clothing—lacy panties. Her breasts, bared to him, were full and round with pert and pink nipples.
“Someone healthy and beautiful is already here,” she purred as she picked up his hand and placed it over one firm breast. “I missed you, Sire.”
Her slightly cracked lips pecked at his clean cheek. Supple and warm to the touch, Tristan gently squeezed the breast in his hand. A warm sensation tickled his ear as she nibbled at his neck. Then her hands pushed his jacket away. She dropped it on top of the robe at their feet.
Once her arms wrapped around his neck, he wrapped her in his embrace. She began to unbutton his shirt then unzip his slacks. Before her abduction, Sasha was curvy and exciting—strong. And, if he closed his eyes, she wasn’t the fragile little victim wrapped around him now.
Shockingly cold, her hand slipped inside his slacks and gently coaxed him, just as he’d taught her to do. She pulled him forward. On the bed, she ended up on top. As she rubbed against him she moaned, “Touch me, please, Sire.”
Tristan wrapped her wet hair in his hand and she squealed as he pulled her head away. He stared into her eyes and saw a smoldering lust. Longing, desperation, a need for his approval appeared there. But something else bothered him. As the low buzz reached his ears, he tried to ignore it. He licked at her mouth, squeezed her butt to stoke the fire deep inside him—anything to shut out that sound.
“Did you really miss me, Sasha?” he asked as she moved against his growing erection. When he flipped them over, Sasha wrapped her legs around his waist as he ripped away the frilly fabric of her panties. Then the air filled with her excitement as Tristan entered her in a smooth motion.
“Yes,” she moaned and purred as he began to push her into the soft mattress. “I missed you so much I wanted to die!”
A gasp escaped her mouth as he plunged deep again. The vein in her neck appeared as if he’d asked for it; his incisors dropped to a fine point. He hissed when she drew a long nail down his neck and licked away the blood. Before the wound closed, she did it again. With a wicked grin, her fangs sank deep into his skin. Her pull was strong and she fed greedily from him as her body began to shake and prepare for her climax.
Stained with his blood, Sasha kissed him roughly, then he pulled her mouth from his, raised his head and sank his teeth in her soft neck. She screamed and laughed as he drank. The sex satisfied his perpetual hunger for it. Her blood, when it mixed with his, helped him enter her mind.
Tristan blew past the unimportant things he found there. What he was after should have existed in her present mind, but he found very little there. The buzzing grew more annoying.
He barely heard her moans of pleasure and pleading for more. He was concentrated on her thoughts. Fragments of the fight with Alex Stone came and went. Images of how Sasha was beaten to a pulp by the woman. Then blackness, total and complete. As he fed on her rage, his emerged—rage at being kept like a comatose pet, and his fear of never seeing the world again. He felt her sharp nails sink into his thighs as he pumped harder and harder.
The buzzing amplified in his brain. It felt close. Close enough to touch, he thought.
“Now,” she pleaded and writhed underneath him. “Please, Sire!”
His rhythm quickened as he let go of her mind and came in one last deep, hard thrust. Sasha screamed his name through her release. He pressed his ear close to her neck and the buzzing sound almost shattered his eardrum. She tried to keep him in her embrace, but he was up and straightening his clothes before her eyes completely opened.
He stepped up to the door and banged hard. It opened and a young woman handed him a long knife. It had some weight to it as he adjusted his grip on the jewel encrusted handle. The young woman stepped back and he could hear Sasha rise from the bed.
“You’re lying,” he whispered at the young woman in front of him, but his words were for Sasha. “They turned you against me.”
When he felt her close behind him, he turned. The knife slid easily into her body, and he could smell her flesh as it began to burn from the inside. Made from pure silver—except the handle, of course—it tapped her heart. Because he had taken more than enough of her blood, she would not be able to withstand the poison of the silver. Had she been in better shape when they released her, it would have taken longer—much longer.
“Sire,” Sasha moaned as she looked down at the blade in her chest.
Tristan stepped back as her skin sizzled and cracked. Blue veins turned black by the poison. She began turning to ash from the center of her chest first. The knife hung there for a few more seconds. Her tears turned to tiny puffs of smoke as they dried on her hot skin. “They will pay for this; I promise you.” Then the knife dropped on top of the ashes as she crumbled at his feet. A little device sat in the pile of her remains; its red light blinked wildly. He crushed it under his heel then turned to the young woman.
“Is he ready?” Tristan whispered. She nodded. “We have about ten minutes before they get here. I’ll be right out.”
“Yes, Sire,” she replied then followed him out of the room.
Chapter 20
“Are you just going to sit here all night brooding?” Esmeralda frowned at Alex.
“I’m not brooding,” she replied, taking another shot of really good vodka. “I’m plotting. My brooding face looks like this.” Alex pushed her lower lip way out then slumped back in the fluffy oversized chair she and Esmeralda occupied together.
“Please don’t ever do that again,” Esmeralda laughed before she kissed Alex’s cheek.
Alex grinned as the party of all parties raged on around them. Esmeralda’s Solstice parties were always loud, sexy, and all night long. Only Alex didn’t have all night. She and her team had an early call with Jason.
“Alex,” Esmeralda pulled her face around, “you can’t do anything about it now. Enjoy the fun, please.” She gave Alex her best smile as she stood. Her slender mocha hand hovered at eye level. “Come on. I wanna dance!”
She let Esmeralda pull her to her feet and out into the center of the shiny, happy people of the “invite only” celebration. They mixed in with the bodies on the dance floor and danced to a thumping beat. Under purple lights and fake smoke, Alex tried to put the day’s shit out of her head. She felt Esmeralda’s back against hers then a strong set of muscular arms wrapped around her.
Morgan Warren was a creature of habit. He always wore the same colored tie to every meeting. His cologne was always some exotic mix of essential oils that he refused to tell anyone—not even Esmeralda, and she was his wife. It intoxicated and soothed her and as the music slowed, Alex swayed in time with him.
“As irresistible as ever, I see,” he whispered in her ear.
“Don’t tease me,” she replied. �
��Your wife’s right over there. She might turn me into a toad or something. I bet you’d be able to resist me then.” He chuckled and the vibration tickled her spine.
“Never.”
The song surrounded them as Morgan guided her side to side. Then he spun her around and dipped her over one strong arm. When she was upright again, he kissed her hand softly then winked at a smiling Esmeralda to their right who squeezed against Sebastian, who blushed bright red.
Morgan’s big, brown bedroom eyes closed when a lone saxophone began to wail. He rotated his hips which caused Alex to do the same. The arm around her waist pulled her even closer and his hand held hers in a warm grip. On her toes, Alex let Morgan lead her away from the crowd and into a darkened corner of the dance floor. As they continued to dance, he looked into her eyes.
“You haven’t given me a proper greeting,” he hummed. “Is that because of him?” He gave a quick nod then angled them so she could see who he was talking about.
Jason, with Nikki on his arm, walked in as if they were just announced husband and wife. Alex leaned closer to Morgan. His full lips displayed a slight grin as she brushed hers over his smooth brown cheek. He chuckled again.
“Sorry,” she sighed.
“That’s more like it,” he smiled at her. “Did you know?”
At first she frowned then shook her head at him. “No. I just thought it was a casual arrangement. I was wrong. So I’m done.”
“Is he?”
She cut her eyes to see him strolling toward them. Morgan kissed her cheek then extended his long arm out to shake Jason’s hand. A guy hug was exchanged as Nikki stepped up to Alex and held her slim left hand up to her.
“It’s beautiful,” Alex stated. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Nikki beamed at the rock on her finger. All the lights bounced off it like it was the sun. The stone was perfect; Alex could see that much. What else would a woman as beautiful as Nikki be given except perfection? “He just surprised me at dinner. It was very romantic.”
Alex just nodded with a glance over Nikki’s shoulder at Esmeralda, whose pink tongue shot out as she pretended to stick her finger down her own throat. The group around her laughed. Alex shook her head and looked away.
“I need a drink,” she stated absently. “Can I get you anything?” A shocked look passed over Nikki’s face.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied.
She stepped between Jason and Morgan, took Jason’s hand and placed a small kiss on his cheek. “Congratulations.” He squeezed her hand and tried to keep her next to him.
Alex excused herself and joined Esmeralda and the rest of her team at the bar.
Nikki swallowed her evilness as Alex walked away. She had expected anger or smugness. Instead, she was . . . nice! Why wasn’t she mad or even jealous? Nikki embraced a smiling Morgan as he congratulated her as well. He smells wonderful, she thought as his scent took her mind away from Alex’s lack of emotion.
“So when’s the big day?” Morgan asked as he held her close. She didn’t mind and neither did Jason from the looks of it. He was stealing glances at Alex and her friends at the bar. Their laughter cut through all the other noise in the nightclub for some reason. At least that’s how it felt to Nikki.
“We haven’t set a date yet,” he replied as he turned back to Morgan, whose arm Nikki still clung to. “These meetings are priority, I’m afraid.”
Morgan gave a nod to him then looked down at Nikki.
“I’m sure you’ve already picked out your gown.”
“Of course I have,” she giggled. “And his tux.”
“Well, all he has to do is show up then,” Morgan hummed. “That’s easy.”
“Let’s hope so,” she said and took a drink from a pretty waitress who then nodded toward the bar. Alex and all the others raised a glass to them. Jason looked ready to run, but Nikki knew he would find a way to get close to Alex tonight and try to explain.
What did it matter? She was now officially about to be his wife. Once that happened, she would have no need to hang onto the “place holders,” as she called them, because Jason would be hers alone.
The power was in the union. With the right mate, anything was possible. Jason had just proven that with the decision to move forward with their wedding plans. Nikki knew that once it was official, she would be that much closer to her own seat at the table. The Lower Chamber was just the beginning for both she and Jason. They were poised to be the first couple to shatter the glass ceiling in the “pure” parade.
No one ever expected her to have aspirations of her own—not even Jason. Although she loved him, she would not allow anyone to relegate her to the station of silent trophy wife. As Jason and Morgan went on and on about some sporting event, Nikki contemplated her own bright future. She straightened her posture and put on a bright smile. If nothing else, she knew not to show anyone the chinks in her armor.
Jason would come back around soon. Now that Alex was out of the picture, he would desire her again. She had admitted defeat just then, hadn’t she? Alex upset the delicate balance Nikki had set for their lives. In that moment, Nikki decided to do whatever she had to in order to get that balance back. If that meant Alex Stone’s destruction, so be it.
Alex had to escape the noise for just a few minutes. In the dim corner of the hotel lobby, she found a little bit of peace. Inside the bar, every thought and desire pounded on her skull. To shut them out, she’d have to get as drunk as everyone else was or retreat and regroup. She chose the latter.
Outside the big lobby window, snow had begun to fall. It tumbled down in a weird pattern as she let the movement soothe her and disconnect her from the force of the party a few feet away. One deep breath and the voices disappeared. Another breath and so did the music and smells. One more and the only voice inside her head was her own.
Her team would be no good to her tonight; that was for sure. It didn’t matter. She could go over the videos by herself. Let them enjoy the party.
She lowered her body down into the fluffy chair behind her and closed her eyes. At first, all she could see was the snow, then it faded to black. The lobby was filled with the smell of pine and fresh snow. Someone had just walked in from outside.
Without even looking, she could hear the heavy footfalls as they approached the front desk. In her hiding place, their whispers barely reached her. They may not have been whispering, but as long as she controlled her power, it sounded that way to her.
The desk clerk pecked the keys at the computer roughly. The new guest, male, asked for two rooms with king-size beds and a fireplace. The clerk stated they were the last rooms in the entire hotel and how lucky he was to get them. With the convention, as he called it, and the snow, he may have had to drive to the next town had he not stopped at that very moment. They shared a laugh, then silence.
Before she noticed that nothing had been said in at least a minute, she opened her eyes, and there he was in front of her. He stared down at her with a strange expression on his bearded face. The twinkle in his blue eyes was familiar. His heavy jacket was still dusted with snow. The boots, brown and worn, were slightly damp. Their waterproofing held strong.
“You look tired,” he said as he removed his gloves, stuffed them in his pocket, then scratched at his beard.
“You look like a stranger,” Alex replied as she straightened her posture. “My mama always told me not to talk to strangers.”
He grinned and the hairs on his face twitched.
“And here I thought I was unforgettable.”
When he laughed, Alex’s brain clicked to a picture of the man she knew without the beard and the years that had creased around those blue eyes. She stood. He stepped back into the light.
“Becker?”
“In the flesh!”
K.C. Becker had put on a few pounds of muscle and added a beard to the mix. As
she stepped into his arms, the scratchy face-warmer rubbed against her cheek. As he laughed, he rocked them back and forth.
“What the hell?” she laughed in his ear.
He released her and held her at arm’s length as he looked her over. With a shake of his head and a big smile this time, he studied her closely.
“What the hell right back at you,” he said. “You grew up.”
Alex invited him to join her with a nod toward the empty chairs. Once he shrugged off his jacket, they sat down and stared at each other for a few seconds. He kept the black watch cap on his head.
“What are you doing here?” Alex finally broke the silence. “I thought you were dead.”
Becker laughed and scratched at the beard again. “Well, don’t sound so disappointed, Dagger.”
“Sorry,” she sighed. “You look good.”
He nodded as if he didn’t want the compliment. Becker never really was much for compliments as she remembered it. “I’m on assignment—new team.”
“Really? The doctor never said anything about a second team,” Alex stated, suddenly uncomfortable. He smelled different.
“I’m not with Strategic anymore,” he replied. “I got kicked out when I couldn’t tolerate the supplement.”
That’s why he smelled different. He wasn’t on the pills. But from everything she’d been told, without them, their bodies would break down and eventually kill them. Becker looked fine—perfect, in fact.
“Don’t look at me that way,” he said. “Don’t believe everything the old man tells you. I’ve been off the supplement for about three years now. I’m good. I mean, not bench pressing small cars or healing overnight good, but I’m human again.”
She watched him look at his rough hands with a sense of satisfaction and peace. Underneath the sweater she could see muscle definition. Not like before, lean and cut, but regular muscle tone for a man his age. He was human again.
Without thinking, Alex took his wrists in her hands. He let her squeeze his forearms, biceps, triceps, then his shoulders. His heartbeat was normal, his breathing steady. But his scent was very different and that bugged her. When she placed her hands on either side of his hairy cheeks, his eyes closed.
By Blood Sworn Page 20