Born to Darkness Box Set

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Oh,” I whispered. I took another step back and felt something hard hit my hip. Casting a glance over my shoulder, I saw that I was trapped with the L-shaped kitchen counter at my back. I had literally backed myself into a corner.

  “Look,” he started, coming so close I could feel his heat radiating against my skin. He started to duck down, his face close to mine—too close. “What if I just—”

  “Please,” I whispered, my throat tight, and turned my head away. I pressed my cheek to my shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the counter until the edge of it bit into my fingers. “Please don’t.”

  “What the hell?” Victor sounded genuinely uncertain. He straightened up and took a step back, putting some much needed space between us.

  Immediately I felt like I could breathe again.

  “Thank you.” I forced myself to look up at him. “I just…it’s hard for me. You’re…so big.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was unexpectedly gentle. “Didn’t mean to uh, scare you.”

  “I’m not scared,” I said but the tremble in my voice gave away the lie. “Maybe this isn’t going to work. Maybe…maybe you should just go,” I mumbled.

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed impatiently.

  “I told you I don’t know when I’ll be back. The Moon is calling me—do you want blood or not?”

  “I do. I…I need it,” I heard myself confess. “But please…not from your neck.”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong with my fucking neck? I don’t offer it to just anybody, you know. If any other were saw me giving the sign of submission to a Goddamn vamp—”

  “It’s too much. Too close.” I put a hand to my chest where I could feel my heart thumping. “Please…if I could just drink from your wrist? Would that be okay?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Actually, that would probably be better. Not so hard to hide the marks later.” He gave me a quizzical glance. “Unless you can heal them up so nobody can tell you’ve been biting me?”

  I thought of the ugly scars that had marked Addison’s arms and wrists until Corbin had healed her. Scars that had been caused by my fangs. I shook my head regretfully.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m not very, uh, old or experienced as vampires go. I was only born to darkness six years ago.”

  “All right, well, I guess we all have to start somewhere.” He sighed. “Wrist it is, then.” He held out his left wrist and then changed his mind and offered me his right instead. “Left handed,” he explained when I looked at him questioningly.

  “I see.” I looked at the strong wrist and muscular forearm he was holding out to me. His hands were large and well formed, the fingertips tapered like those of an artist. He was surprisingly unhairy too—I hadn’t been around many weres and I’d always imagined they must be almost as hairy in human form as they were when they took their animal shapes. But Victor only had a light dusting of coarse black hair on the back of his arms. I wondered if he had a hairy chest and pushed the thought away. What was wrong with me? He was offering me blood and I was starving—I needed to feed, not admire his admittedly impressive physique.

  I focused my attention on the bracelet of blue veins that pulsed on the underside of his wrist and tried to concentrate on one in particular, calling it toward me.

  In the week and a half since rescuing me from Celeste, my new master Corbin had given me some tips on how to be a better, more effective vampire. Most of what he’d taught me was simple, including calling a vein to the surface as I was doing now. If only Celeste would have had the time and patience to teach me, maybe I would have made a better vampire. But my petite blonde ex-mistress had no patience with ignorance or incompetence of any kind so I had remained at the bottom of the food chain, uneducated and uninformed about my new existence until recently.

  To my relief, the vein began to swell until it presented a decent target for my aching fangs. Unfortunately, I still wasn’t good enough to give pleasure as I fed, like a master vampire could, but at least I could strive to hurt my donor as little as possible.

  Victor said nothing to the subtle display of my power. He simply stood there waiting, his arm at the right height for my mouth. When I gave him a quick glance, his eyes flashed bright gold and he gave me a barely perceptible nod as if to say, do it.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. The warm musk of his scent filled my nose and under that I could smell the hot copper of his blood. My empty stomach twisted and my throat was parched.

  I struck, my fangs piercing the big vein I’d called, slicing through his flesh and digging deep to get the nourishment I craved.

  Victor grunted and I could tell I’d hurt him. But he didn’t try to jerk away—he held rock solid as I fed from him, drawing the rich, delicious blood out in great, hot mouthfuls, gulping it down like a starving beggar, feasting for the first time.

  And God it was good…so incredibly good and different from anything I had ever tasted. I had never had were blood before—most vamps haven’t since we consider each other mortal enemies. To be honest, though, I hadn’t even had much human blood, aside from my friend Addison’s, which was sweet and tasted slightly of strawberries. That was nice but this was special…incredible.

  Victor’s blood reminded me of fine, rich, strong wine. Or maybe an expensive whiskey. It gushed down my throat, quenching my terrible thirst in the first soothing wave and setting a warm fire glowing in my belly. I could feel its effects immediately—my throat was no longer lined with barbed wire and my stomach wasn’t trying to gnaw a hole in my backbone. I felt refreshed…healed.

  Beside me, Victor shifted impatiently and I reminded myself that my miraculous meal had a name and a burning desire to get outside and answer the call of the wild. In fact, he was probably only about two minutes from turning into a huge, shaggy wolf with appetites of his own.

  I could have drunk from him all night, sipping that warm, rich blood, savoring it like the most expensive vintage—but that wasn’t an option. I took two more hasty mouthfuls and then drew back, retracting my fangs.

  Victor was watching me, an unreadable expression on his stern features.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, licking my lips to get the last traces of his miraculous blood. “Did I hurt you?”

  He shifted from foot to foot, frowning. “It was nothing. Not as bad as I thought. Except—”

  “Except?” I asked, humbly, trying to prompt him. “If you tell me I might be able to make it better for you, uh, next time.”

  “Better than that?” He looked at me incredulously and shifted again. The movement drew my eyes to his crotch. With a shock, I saw that he had an extremely impressive erection pressing hard against the front of his jeans. Had I caused that? And if so, how?

  “I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. His blood had had a calming effect on me but suddenly I felt nervous all over again. Was he going to come after me now? Was he going to try something?

  “No, I’m sorry,” he said roughly. “I don’t know why that, uh…damn. So fucking weird.” He shook his head, his eyes going hard. “I have to go,” he said abruptly.

  “Oh. Of course.” I slid away from him, trying to give him more room. “Um…have fun.”

  “Don’t expect me back for awhile.”

  “Oh…I—” But before I could finish, he was out the kitchen door and gone into the night.

  Chapter Two—Victor

  I loped a few yards to the edge of the clearing and then just stood there for a minute, trying to make sense of it all. I could feel the call of the Moon, could feel the brand on my skin, burning like a small sun nestled in my lower back, but I fought it for a little while longer. If I let the wolf come forward now, I would never understand what had just happened. The wolf has no words, it thinks in pictures not sentences and it runs purely on instinct. I desperately needed to think about the strange vampire girl I had somehow found myself bonded to and my animal form was the worst place to do that.

  “What the hell?” I muttered to myself, trying to shut out
the silvery voice of the moon and her endless siren song. “What the fuck is going on?”

  It was a fair question. I hadn’t been acting like myself tonight and it wasn’t just the Change coming on me that caused it. It was Taylor—somehow she was making me act weird.

  Driving in the truck with her, I had been doing my best to ignore her because of her scent. Most vamps smell pretty disgusting to me—like the snake cage at the zoo—all leathery and reptilian. And the older they get, the worse the stink is, at least to my sensitive were nose.

  But not Taylor—she had a warm, fresh, devastatingly feminine scent. Nothing like a vamp but not exactly human either. There was something strange and intensely attractive about that scent and it pissed me off. Pissed me off because I shouldn’t find anything attractive about her—she was a fucking fanger for God’s sake.

  I don’t hate vamps, not like most of my kind do, but I don’t go out of my way to spend time with them either. Corbin had been an exception—only because I had felt more comfortable dealing with him than the local pack when it came to taking a loan for my business. If I had known how he would make me pay it back, I would have run a fucking mile from that undead bastard.

  “Fuck,” I muttered as the moon called me, clouding my mind. What was wrong with me? First, I had actually offered her my neck—a sign of submission among weres. It was a sign I had never given to another living creature my whole life and I offered it to a vamp. Then, when she had refused my neck and taken blood from my wrist instead, I had gotten a fucking hard-on from it.

  I looked down at my jeans, which were still tented, the ridge of my shaft showing through the denim. My cock was so hard it ached and all from letting that little vamp sink her fangs into me—what the hell was that all about?

  It’s not fair, muttered a voice in my head. She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s got that scent too. How am I supposed to live with that for three months?

  By not laying a hand on her, that was how. She was a vamp and I was a were—we would keep our distance. And anyway, it wasn’t like Taylor wanted me anywhere near her.

  I remembered the proud, hurt, defiant look in her big blue eyes when she’d told me someone had broken every bone in her body and she’d still managed to heal. What kind of sick bastard would do something like that to someone as beautiful and delicate as her? Whoever it was, they had really done a number on her. I flashed on her reaction when I’d gotten too close while she was trying to feed from me. She’d flinched away and the fear in her face was so raw it made my gut ache.

  She must have been hurt—fucking horribly abused. I didn’t want to think how, exactly. I remembered Roderick, the ancient vamp Corbin had asked me to stand down right after Taylor and I were bonded. He’d wanted her back, badly enough to challenge the blood-bond between us—something unheard of in either vamp or were circles as far as I knew. What did he do to her? What did that sick fucker do?

  Just wondering that was enough to make a low growl rise in my throat. I knew Roderick was dead now—Corbin had killed him using some kind of dark witchcraft I didn’t understand and didn’t want anything to do with. But part of me wished he was still around so I could rip his throat out. If he had been the one to put the fear in Taylor’s eyes, he deserved to have his guts carved out and served to him for supper.

  Just listen to yourself, the little voice scoffed. Getting all fucking protective and possessive of a vamp. Get over it and let the Change take you…let it take you before it’s too late.

  I felt the brand on my lower back burning again and knew the voice was right. I couldn’t delay any longer. If I did, I risked bringing down the curse. It hadn’t happened to me in months, not since I’d moved to Tampa, but that was no guarantee of anything. It was one thing to get stuck in my animal form—that didn’t bother me except for missed work. Since I owned my own company, it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. But if I got trapped in my other form, the one the curse made me take…

  I shivered all over and began shedding my clothes. Far off to my left in the dense woods I could hear the long, liquid cry of another of my kind. The local pack sometimes ran on the land abutting mine—something I wished I would have known before buying. But so far, except for a few brief meetings on full moon nights and one or two overly friendly gestures by some of the single females of the pack, they left me alone and I left them alone. That was exactly the way I liked it—as a lone wolf, I had no interest in joining them.

  Not that they would have me if they knew about the curse.

  The brand burned again, aching, throbbing. It was invisible except on a full moon night or when the curse was about to become active. Then it glowed, outlined in a dull reddish light like someone had tattooed me with fire. In fact, that was sort of what had happened. It was glowing now as I stripped off my shirt. I was glad I had privacy as I undressed.

  At last I stood naked in the woods, feeling the moonlight caress my skin. People talk about the “man in the moon” but we weres know the moon is female—a great, round goddess riding the night sky, always calling to those that can hear her. Sometimes her call is soft, sometimes, like tonight when she’s full, it’s almost deafening.

  The call was strong this evening—riding me, urging me onward. Thinking past it was almost impossible. Still, I made a conscious decision to stay far from the house tonight. If I did get stuck in my animal form—which happened often—I wanted to have plenty of distance between myself and Taylor. She reminded me of a wounded creature—a bird with a broken wing. Easy prey for my wolf if I let myself get too close, especially when the animal inside me would see her as an enemy—something to be hurt and destroyed.

  Come, whispered the silver voice of the moon. Come…run…hunt…be free…

  Putting both the little vampire and the local pack out of my mind, I closed my eyes and answered the call. I felt my body shift and change, the joints bending in different, inhuman directions, my skin flowing with fur. My wolf was coming forward and I let him, reached for him and his mindless instinct eagerly with all that was in me.

  My senses were suddenly sharper, the moonlight was brighter, the woods were filled with smells and sounds. Small creatures scratched in the underbrush. Owls floated almost noiselessly from branch to branch. Far off in the distance I thought I heard a panther scream.

  Again there was a long, lonesome howl from deep in the trees. This time I threw back my head and answered it, a full throated howl coming from my muzzle. I might not want to run with the pack but a wolf always answers another.

  And then the wolf came forward completely and instinct took over, erasing all rational thought, doing away with any kind of human reason. I was a beast—a mindless beast—and happy to be one.

  I howled again and loped into the woods.

  Chapter Three—Taylor

  I listened to the mournful howling outside the window and shivered. God, was that Victor out there? It must be. I listened again, and this time, I thought I heard more than one wolf. They seemed to be calling and answering each other. Was there a whole pack out there? But I’d thought Victor was a lone wolf. What if Corbin had been wrong? What if they found out about me—about Victor being blood-bonded to a vampire—and wanted to kill me?

  It’s all right, I told myself uneasily. It’s going to be all right as long as you don’t advertise your presence. Well, that was easy enough. I planned to stay right here, in the house, and not step one foot outside. In the mean time, I decided to go around and lock all the windows and doors just to be safe. Victor had acted like he might be gone for days—I might as well take the opportunity to explore my temporary home.

  The cabin was as gorgeous on the inside as it was on the outside, though some parts were clearly still under construction. The kitchen was finished and the fridge was well stocked with lots of red meat and bacon and cheese—no surprise there, Victor was clearly a carnivore—but also a head of lettuce and some tomatoes. Hmm, so maybe he ate a salad from time to time? There was a six pack of Sam Adams a
nd a box with a slice of cold pizza in it, which I stared at with longing. I had always been kind of a foodie back before I was turned but vamps can’t eat. The most we can do is sip a little liquid from time to time and not too much of that.

  I closed the fridge with a sigh. Well, Victor had been gracious enough to give me his blood, maybe I could make him a meal when he got back. It had been a while since I had cooked anything but I used to grill a mean steak. And anyway, wasn’t I the little woman now? Shouldn’t I be meeting him at the door in a frilly apron with a dry martini saying, “How was your day, dear?”

  I couldn’t help laughing at the ridiculous mental image. I could almost see myself standing there, dressed in a naughty little apron and not much else while Victor walked through the door. Could almost see his eyes flash gold as he looked at me and hear the low growl in his voice as he took me in his arms and kissed me…kissed me tenderly but so urgently. As if he couldn’t wait to take me to bed. To…

  God, where did that come from! I shook my head, trying to get rid of the weird fantasy. I didn’t want the big were to kiss me, I told myself firmly. I didn’t want him anywhere near me. And yet, the mental image persisted. I couldn’t help imagining those big, warm hands caressing my skin, stroking up and down my sides, cupping my breasts.

  “Stop it!” I said out loud. What was wrong with me? Why was I imagining these things—feeling like this? But it wouldn’t stop. I licked my lips, still tasting the faint trace of his delicious blood. My breasts felt heavy and tender and my nipples were tight. The area between my legs was swollen and throbbing. What was going on?

  It was the same problem I’d had ever since our wedding. The strange feelings that wouldn’t leave me alone. I should be incapable of getting aroused. After what Roderick had done to me, I should never want to be within fifty feet of any man ever again.

  So why was I feeling like this? And why couldn’t I stop thinking of Victor? Remembering his smell, his taste…