Blood Emerald

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Blood Emerald Page 5

by Amber Anthony


  This was their connection, their chemistry. Her womanly curves invited his hard, muscled body to mesh in a carnal dance. His inquisitive sexuality invited her overwhelming presence and strength.

  There was the insistent brush of her mouth, followed quickly by their sensual and ravenous kisses. They unfolded, lying alongside each other, trading kisses. Tsura trailed her cool tongue along the curve of his neck, continuing down his perfect torso to the line of his throbbing cock. She was ravenous to taste his uniquely masculine essence and consume his mortal warmth.

  Pinning Tsura proved too easy for him; it felt as if she had truly surrendered to his sex. Lying there, she moaned as Rick’s fingers mischievously plotted the richness of her wet inner lips. Every word she panted emboldened him to taste her honeyed cunt. And he did, with relish. He praised the pearl of her womanhood, his lips commanding her body. His hands clutched her writhing hips as her legs encircled his head. Her thighs began to tremble and her entire body stiffened in ecstasy as her feral cry crescendoed to her Creator.

  Triumph coursed through every vessel, nerve, and fiber of Rick’s body. He knelt between her trembling thighs, amazed at his own cock. His flesh had grown exceedingly hard and thick, throbbing its need to go balls deep into her wet silk. Tsura’s cool hand gripped his sturdy girth, endangering his control.

  “Fill me, your Grace, fill me to the hilt, now.”

  How could a woman, so soft and supple, be so compelling? And what else could he do? Rick was desperate to comply. Before the moment of their fusing, he dipped his lips to hers, engaging her in delighted tongue play. Then, as passion demanded, he thrust his hard, thick cock into her.

  Sweat poured in rivulets down his muscular chest as he committed every sensation to a blessed memory. With each thrust, fire burgeoned along his spine, driving down determinedly, as if euphoria could actually erupt from his sac. His cry announced his sacred relief.

  * * * *

  He was lost in his orgasm, and Tsura flipped him on his back without losing his spitting cock from her fist of a pussy. Dominance radiated from her as she sat astride her prey. She caught his wrists in her hands and forced them outward with incredible strength. Her throaty moan caused him to tremble.

  She felt herself change. Her lips opened to reveal unmistakably long ivory canines. Her brown eyes silvered-over as they bore into Rick’s. She pounced, sinking deep, squarely over his carotid, delivering a slaying bite. Then, all was silence.

  * * * *

  That night, Rick was fascinated by the physical transformation of two complete strangers into the intimacy of lovers. In that night’s union, he ran the gamut of emotions from awe to confusion. He ached for Tsura from the very beginning, and his heart unexpectedly clamored for more.

  Emotionally exhausted and physically spent to the point of quivering, Rick felt out of his body. He recalled their sex play and her penultimate bite. Hazily, he watched Tsura furtively pick up her clothing and hastily dress. Before her hand caught the doorknob, Rick asked weakly, “Tell me, Tsura, did you ache to taste the sunset in my blood?”

  Tsura wiped his blood from her lips and touched an emerging tear. With a bittersweet smile, she sighed. “No. No, I longed to taste your spirit.” Then she stiffened her spine and leaned against the tall mahogany door. “Giani will spend the rest of the night with you. You will grow hungry and he will feed you. Initially you will be weak. Obey his directions, lest you hurt him.”

  Rick drew an assessing hand across his throat and winced at the blood on his fingers.

  “You have been born to a new world. I will return after sunset to begin your baptism.” Tsura turned and opened the door to slip out, as her mortal familiar slipped in.

  Giani stepped into a shaft of moonlight, his shadow falling across the bed, making Rick wonder if he was a giant. The gentle bear of a man padded to the pitcher and bowl in the corner of the room. He wrung out a cool cloth, and then crossed to the bed cautiously.

  “Your Grace, be at peace. I have ushered many mortals through this transformation.” Giani held out his peasant’s hands. “These are large but gentle hands.”

  Resigned to his conversion, Rick allowed Giani to bathe him. Feeling weightless in his bed, the transformed Duke surrendered to the night.

  * * * *

  Los Angeles, Present Day

  What began as a whisper in Rick’s ear stirred him to awareness. From the day he was turned until the mid-eighteenth century when she was slain by a vampire hunter, Rick craved Tsura like a drug. As he showered and prepped for the day, he wondered for the umpteenth time if his attraction to domination in the present day was a remnant of their torrid passion. One night of watching her bathe turned him on forever. For a solitary vampire, that was a very long time.

  Rick filled his nights with amusement where others found passion. As a Dom, he traded human thrills for food, even as his spirit withered. The further he journeyed from his time with Tsura, the fiercer his sexual dominance became. Ultimately, he reached his tipping point. It was time to surrender or fight.

  “Everybody I love dies,” he brooded to his reflection in the mirror.

  That’s life. People die, his reflection hurled back.

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Yeah, cuz you’re everyone’s hero, right? Because now you’re gonna use your domination powers for good?

  “Well, at least I can be Cupcake’s hero.”

  Rick’s reflection was mute.

  He dropped his fangs. “No smartass retort?” Rick left the bathroom counter and flipped off the light, while over his shoulder, he shot back, “I didn’t think so.”

  Chapter 4

  Slayer wasn’t a bad dog, really, Anna thought as she unloaded a huge bag of dry dog food from her car. He was neurotic from being alone. Dogs were social animals. They belonged in a pack, and if Sterling was going to leave him without human affection, he should at least have a companion dog. She hoped Rick wasn’t afraid of dogs. If you didn’t know Slayer’s behavior was neurotic, you could read it as aggression.

  She looked around the neighborhood. It was dusk. The sun, though not totally set, had gone down behind the hills, and the resulting twilight should be ideal for Rick.

  * * * *

  When he pulled up, Rick found Anna burdened by a bag of dog food nearly as big as she was. He hoped that asswipe, Sterling, hadn’t dumped the cost of the dog food on her. Obviously, this was not a toy poodle they were feeding.

  “Hello, Sir.” She smiled broadly in greeting, trying to juggle the enormous bag.

  Rick jogged to her and threw the bag over his shoulder. “Hi. You can stop ‘Sir’ing me. We’re not at the club.”

  “Oh, okay.” He waited a beat as she took that in. “So, you’re not a Dom all the time?”

  “Twenty-four/seven would be a heavy time commitment, don’t you think? Most Doms don’t adhere to that kind of protocol away from the club. Now, sexually, that’s maybe a different thing, but socially, it’s tedious.” Rick flashed a boyish grin and then playfully elbowed her. “It would make people look at us funny. They’d think I was your commanding officer or something.”

  “Yes, Sir…” she began and was cut off by his slanted glance. “I mean, yes, that would be kinda odd.”

  “This is the house, huh?” He looked it over. “Doesn’t seem too sinister.” He gestured her forward. “After you.”

  “Now, before we go in, I want to warn you about Slayer. He’s pretty big—a Rottweiler—and he’s kinda neurotic. Not mean, but some people are scared by him.”

  “So, you like dogs.”

  “Yeah, I do. I like all animals.”

  “You need to know, vamps have no trouble with aggressive animals. They’re more afraid of us.”

  “Oh.”

  Anna opened the bolt lock and turned off the alarm. The house was obsessively immaculate in its gothic clutter. Not a thing looked like they were in sunny Los Angeles. Rick half expected to see a skeleton fly out at them on a zip line.


  As he wended his way behind Anna into the kitchen area, he could see a broad expanse of concrete leading to a neglected pool, and, in the back corner, an eight foot by eight-foot cage of chain link fencing, enclosed on all sides and over the top. What the hell was he housing, Rick wondered, a mountain lion? A massive doghouse dominated it, with a doggie water fountain, but no doggie toys evident. Inside the doghouse lay a forlorn-looking black and tan behemoth.

  The dog barked and shook ecstatically from head to toe when he saw Anna. However, when Rick walked out behind her carrying the bag of food, the dog tucked his stubby tail under and cowered in the corner, howling his distress.

  “Oh, my god!” Anna exclaimed. “He’s so upset! Oh, I’ve never seen him do this before…”

  Rick preceded her to the gate and unlocked it. “Don’t worry. It’s because he smells me. He’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t know, Rick, maybe you shouldn’t go in, you know what they say about wounded animals.”

  Rick flashed a confident grin. “He’s not wounded, he’s intimidated. Don’t worry, Cupcake, you just fix his food and water. Let me get to know him. What’s his name?”

  “Uh…Slayer,” she mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

  “Slayer?” He laughed. “Well, that’s stupid.”

  “I know, right?”

  He handed her the bag of food and strolled over to the cringing dog.

  “Hey, big guy.” Slayer let out a pitiful howl that had other dogs in the neighborhood barking in sympathy. “Now that’s a little extreme, isn’t it? Come ’ere, lad, let’s get acquainted.” He reached out his hand and the dog drew back as far as physically possible. “I know,” Rick soothed, even as he picked up the enormous beast as if he were a puppy and carried him to the middle of the enclosure.

  “You think he’s getting any better?” Anna asked, concern edging her voice.

  “He will. Be patient.” Rick encouraged in that same soothing tone. He laid the dog down on his back and held him with a firm grip on his throat. The dog whimpered pathetically. “Now, that’s as bad as it gets, fella.” Rick reassured. “See there?” He moved his hand down and gently rubbed the dog’s massive chest; soon he was using both hands to rub his belly, and the dog panted and kicked his back leg in delight. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere, aren’t we, boy?”

  “Look! He likes you!”

  “Sure, we just had to get to know each other, that’s all. This poor dog needs some play and exercise.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well let’s take him to the front and let him run to chase a ball or something.”

  “I don’t know…” Anna hedged. “What if he runs away?”

  “I wouldn’t blame him.” Rick scratched the dog behind his ear while the giant leaned against him as if he was a puppy. “Look.” Rick pointed to him. “He’s leaning.”

  “That’s a Rottie trait,” they said together.

  “You like Rotties too?”

  “I love them.” Rick’s smile was relaxed. “I had one when I was a lad.”

  “You must miss him.”

  “It was a long time ago. Anyway, don’t worry about him running off. He won’t leave me.” He walked to the gate totally unconcerned, and he was right—the dog shadowed his side all the way.

  * * * *

  Out on the lawn, Rick broke a sturdy piece off the branch of an orange tree and threw it, sending Slayer soaring over two hundred and fifty yards to retrieve it. Anna’s heart warmed watching them.

  If a dog could immediately warm to Rick as Slayer had done, that must mean there was goodness in the man. Right? Surely if Slayer could trust him, she could. Something in the way he loved the dog told her that, despite his cynical exterior, Rick Hiatt might be able to love a woman as well. Don’t do this, her heart warned. Do not crush on another vampire.

  Jerking her thoughts away from the perilous prospect of loving a member of the undead, Anna cheered on man and dog as back and forth they went, throwing, wrestling for the stick, and generally having a wonderful time. Finally, the athletic dog flopped down at Rick’s feet and whined, his tongue lolling.

  * * * *

  Rick laughed. “Time for dinner?” he invited, and the dog sat up and cocked his head in expectation. “Oh, man,” Rick shook his head. “This dog is too great. I’m not sending him back to that…that…cage. That’s not a life.”

  “I agree.” Anna crouched down to rub Slayer’s cheeks while he happily licked her face. “It’s too bad…”

  “It doesn’t have to be. This dog is about to be stolen.”

  “Rick!” Anna was shocked, and she looked around for witnesses.

  “What? He’ll never know you were in on it. I’ll make it look like someone broke into the backyard and took him. Of course, I’ll have to change his name…”

  Anna giggled. Rick was in the right mood to love that sound. “No more ‘Slayer’?”

  “How about…Player?” Rick decided. “Yeah, Player suits you fine, right, boy? C’mon, let’s go back in and you can eat while we’re looking around.” The dog followed them docilely back inside, obviously overjoyed to be in Rick’s presence.

  “Down to business,” Rick urged while the dog scarfed up his dinner. “Where’s this ‘vampire room’?”

  * * * *

  Anna led the way through a California dream home perfect for Rock Hudson and Doris Day. Incongruously, the walls were painted hideous black, dark purple, and indigo. Heavy velvet drapes of the same hues hung in every airy window, and hallways were narrowed by shadow boxes of gothic relics. Rick surveyed it all with a critical eye. “I take it back; it’s a good thing he houses Player outside. This whole damn house looks like Gothorama. I’d be afraid they’d use him as an animal sacrifice.”

  “Here we are.” Anna indicated a doorway, and Rick took an instantaneous trip back in time. With the echo of each footstep, Rick returned to his mortal years.

  Everywhere he looked, there was imitation Tudor décor. The walls were covered in vivid scarlet moiré vinyl wallpaper, a sad replica of the opulence Rick had been born to. In a castle, rich crimson velvet wall hangings were fitting, but in the smallish room, the effect was claustrophobic. The hideous wallpaper competed with reproduction sixteenth century portraits in baroque frames.

  “It’s a little over the top,” Anna noted needlessly as she looked around. “Seemed more malevolent when he was in here telling his gruesome stories.”

  “It’s a little something, alright. Looks like his designer was going for early demon hunter.”

  Ceramic saltcellars, along with a hag stone and a grouping of witch balls, were displayed along the wall.

  Anna studied them with interest, and flipped on the overhead light in the dim room to get a better look. “What do these do?”

  “They were used for warding off witches and other evil spirits.”

  “How?” she asked incredulously, and Rick laughed.

  “I didn’t say they were successful.”

  The obligatory strings of garlic hung on every wall beside framed prayers of protection on scraps of parchment. One tall, heavily carved bookcase contained antique advice for vampire hunters, written mostly in German or Latin along with old English. Rick’s eye caught diaries—old, beaten, leather-bound books stuffed with personal notes. They were shoved tightly into the highest shelf. Rick sublimated his fear about what those diaries contained. Information about vampire hunting in L.A.?

  “These must have been dear,” Rick mused, running his finger along the spines of the antique tomes. “How could Sterling afford them? Is he independently wealthy?”

  “Not that I know of. I think he works as a stocker at Macy’s.”

  “Hum. Maybe they were inherited?” He moved along the room. “Now, this is amazing. A gold chess set on a marble board. I might have played on one of these as a boy.” He walked to the small, heavy wooden table where it sat, a chair on either side.

  “Oh? Was your family wealthy?” Rick looked up expecting to see guile in Ann
a’s question, but there was simple curiosity in her eyes, nothing more.

  “We did alright.”

  * * * *

  Anna walked to his side and caught herself inhaling the scent of the room with all its antiquities, then catching the scent of the man. First she caught the starch of his crisp white shirt, then the citrus high notes of cologne that finished with a beloved fragrance—clean riding tack. Unbidden thoughts of her first riding instructor, all lean and dark and tall, crowded in as she stood beside the formidable vampire. Her heart’s loyalties warred within her. Hadn’t she wasted her tween years vying for her instructor’s praise and approval? Now she was aflutter and feeling thirteen again. She hastily crossed her arms over her sundress to hide erect nipples. Pull it together!

  * * * *

  “I’ve never seen things like this.” Anna waved her hand at the curiosities. “How do you know what they are?”

  Rick thought for a second she might be putting him on, and slanted a glance down at her. Clear green eyes met his in return. “Cupcake, how old do you think I am?”

  Anna wet her lips nervously during a long pause. “I hate these age-guessing games,” she demurred. “I’m never any good at it.”

  “Give it a shot.” He almost enjoyed putting her on the spot.

  “Oh…thirty?” She hesitated at his shocked expression, followed by a crooked smile. “See, I told you I’m no good at it…twenty-eight?”

 

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