Women of the Dark Streets

by Radclyffe

  She placed her hand over mine and leaned forward to kiss me gently, tentatively. I kissed her back and pulled her to me, needing to feel her bare skin against mine again.

  She moved my hand to her breast as her tongue slid into my mouth. The skin was so soft and smooth, the nipple so hard. I pinched it and tugged on it, and she pressed her hips to mine again.

  I helped her step out of her shorts and continued to kiss her, even as she sat back down. I broke the kiss to see her fingers between her legs. The sight furthered my arousal as I watched her fingers slide past her engorged clit and inside her wet cunt. She moved them in and out and I thought I’d go crazy if I didn’t taste her.

  She must have read my mind as she drew her coated fingers over her nipples before tracing my lips with them. I opened my mouth and sucked on them, her juices the elixir of the gods.

  “Do you feel stronger?” she asked.

  “I do, but hunger is not the only need I wish to feed.” I dropped to my knees and licked her clit. I placed her legs over my shoulders as I buried my tongue inside her. I greedily sucked her lips and licked her satin walls. She tasted divine, as I knew she would. I pulled her hood back and took her swollen clit in my mouth. I pulled it between my teeth and flicked the tip with my tongue. Her hands on the back of my head pressed me into her. Her hips thrust as she rode my face.

  I probed her pussy with three fingers. She groaned in pleasure when I added another. I moved my hand in and out of her, forcing it deeper with each plunge. Her breathing became ragged, and I felt her body freeze as her cunt closed around my fingers, convulsing over and over.

  When she finally relieved the death grip she had on my head, I let go of her clit and kissed her mouth, sharing her flavor with her. She kissed all over my face, cleaning every drop of come.

  Amanda stood and unbuttoned my cargo shorts, easily slipping them off me. Her fingers were immediately on my clit, and I grabbed her by the wrist.

  “My sensitivity is heightened right after I feed. I must warn you it won’t take much.”

  She smiled a devilish grin and moved her fingers against me anew. The world was already going black as everything faded save the feelings in my nerve center. I fell to my knees, unable to maintain my balance. Rocking against her fingers, the world exploded from within me, and I saw bursts of colors behind my eyelids as what felt like molten lava shot through my veins.

  “You’re easy.” She laughed.

  “That was only round one, sunshine. I’ll make you work for it now.”

  I stood and took her by the hand, leading her to my coffin.

  We climbed in and picked up where we left off until we were satiated. We fell asleep in each other’s arms just as the sun came up over Jackson Square.

  Bloodstone

  Sheri Lewis Wohl

  May 1, 1687

  New Haven, CT

  Death wasn’t the end. She knew it to be true even as she dug, the sound of the shovel hitting the earth loud in the quiet night. The earth, already soft from Sarah’s burial the day before, made her work easier. The smell of dirt and decay wafted up through the air as she worked and a breeze picked up, ruffling the leaves of the nearby trees. She continued to dig, careful not to disturb Sarah’s final resting place. When the hole was at last large enough, she laid the shovel aside.

  With effort, she dragged his body to the edge of the hole and rolled him in. The shroud she’d made from fine linen, her stitches precise and equal, hid his familiar face. Lifting her skirts, she crawled into the hole to make certain he was positioned as comfortably as possible. His wait could be as little as a few months or as long as several centuries. She simply didn’t know how long he’d have to lie beneath the cold soil.

  Once satisfied, she reached up, took the dagger, and laid it across his body. Her fingers stroked the firm leather of the sheath. If only they’d found the missing stones, none of this would have been necessary. But they’d failed to find them. and now he was dead. Or rather, somewhere between life and death.

  While he waited here, the stones would be located. When they were, they’d be restored to the dagger and power would once more be his.

  She crawled out of the hole and silently shoveled dirt over his body, patting it down to obscure any trace of disturbance. When the sun rose in the morning, she’d be gone. She stepped back and held the lantern up. No one would ever know the grave of Sarah Trowbridge held anything except her body. She smiled, blew out the flame, and walked into the darkness.

  Present Day

  New Haven, CT

  Chapter One

  Adriana James hiked up the strap of her messenger bag and groaned. The weight made her shoulder ache. The trip had taken way too long and was none too comfortable. That she was finally here wasn’t a relief.

  Not for the first time, she wondered how in the world she’d allowed herself to be talked into this. There was a good reason she’d moved away from here, and “never coming back” had been her mantra since she’d caught a one-way flight out seventeen years ago.

  Bright and beautiful this morning when she’d left Spokane, now at a little past ten in New Haven the night was deep and dark. The tiny airport was all but deserted save for her and the handful of other passengers who’d made the short connecting flight from Boston. Within minutes, she was the last one standing, so speak. Standing in the deserted parking lot, that is. She’d just about given up hope when a taxi came around the corner.

  She gave the man directions and was grateful when he turned out to be uninterested in small talk. Tired and depressed, the last thing she wanted to do was chitchat. She also didn’t bother to call home. Not yet anyway. She didn’t want her conversation with Riah to be anything except private. The driver might not be chatty, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have big ears.

  New Haven was quiet this time of night. Just like she remembered it. She shut her eyes and tried to relax for the half hour it took to get from the airport to the house.

  The house was dark, the lawn overgrown, and the gate squeaked when she pushed it open. Shifting the bag on her shoulder again and hauling her rolling suitcase up the three steps to the porch, she dug the key out of her pocket. Unlike the gate, the front door swung open without a sound.

  The air inside was stale and musty, as if no one had been here in years. In a way it was true. Other than her mother, no one probably had been in this house since she left nearly two decades ago. Friends and neighbors had drifted away years before she’d left. She’d tried to stay and then even for her, it became impossible.

  Now she was back, and as she stood in the entryway, a chill ran up her spine. She didn’t care what Riah said, coming here was fucked up and all she really wanted to do was grab her stuff and catch the first flight back to the West Coast. That was her home, not this place where misery had made its mark.

  But she was here and she might as well make the best of it. If everything went well, she’d have all the loose ends tied up within a couple days and she could go home. It wouldn’t be a minute too soon.

  Leaving her suitcase where she dropped it, Adriana went to the living room and turned on a lamp. Warm light spilled over the room. Chills raced up her arms. Everything seemed to be exactly as it had been when she’d walked out the front door all those years ago. Even down to the glass sitting on an end table. She’d been drinking iced tea that night.

  “What the fuck, Mama? What the fuck,” she whispered.

  Unexpectedly, tears welled up in her eyes. It surprised her as much as the time capsule state of the room. Bitterness had sustained her estrangement with her mother for so long she didn’t think she had anything left. Apparently, she was wrong.

  “She loved you.”

  Adriana screamed and whirled to find herself face-to-face with a woman she didn’t know but who looked like her mother. She was a little taller than Adriana’s five feet one, with dark skin and blue eyes. The same blue eyes of her mother.

  “Who are you?” Her heart was still wildly beating and s
he wished Riah was here with her. Where was her favorite vampire when she needed her?

  “My name is Vespera and I’m your aunt.”

  “Bullshit.” Her mother was an only child, as was her father. Their entire family consisted of the three of them. Now it consisted of only Adriana. “You need to leave before I call the police.”

  “Please,” the woman said calmly. “It’s important I talk to you. Your life is in danger.”

  Adriana rolled her eyes. If this chick only knew. She’d gone up against vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of preternatural creatures. Even without Riah, her vampire lover extraordinaire, she was pretty capable of taking care of herself. “I hardly think so.”

  “Give me ten minutes and if you still don’t believe me, I’ll go.”

  “Ten minutes?” She really wasn’t liking any of this but she’d also prefer to forgo police involvement if possible.

  Vespera nodded. “Ten minutes.”

  “Okay, you’re on the clock.”

  Chapter Two

  From the shadows, Elizabeth peered in the window of the old home. For almost two decades she’d been waiting for this night, and now that it was finally here, her heart raced. The ground vibrated with the surge of energy her presence brought.

  She frowned as she thought about the old woman. She’d been cagey, powerful, and no matter what Elizabeth tried, unbreakable. Her sole victory: destroying Michael despite Sabira’s protection. Unfortunately, just not before he’d managed to hide the stone.

  It had taken years to realize the key to finding the last stone lay with the daughter. By the time she did, the daughter had dropped out of sight, never to return…until now. The death of Sabira brought her back along with a bonus Elizabeth hadn’t expected, the elusive Vespera.

  How she hated the sisters. Sabira and Vespera had been nothing but trouble. She particularly hated Sabira, the patient one. She’d been everything Elizabeth wasn’t. Petite with flawless dark skin, silky black hair, and eyes the color of a cloudless blue sky. Men were fascinated with her exotic beauty while women admired her. Only her daughter seemed to be able to stay away.

  Vespera, like her twin sister, was lovely, yet she didn’t have the same magnetic personality Sabira had possessed. Vespera had never married while Sabira had enjoyed fifteen years with the handsome wizard, Michael. Fifteen years too long in Elizabeth’s book. Sabira’s spells of protection had been hard to break and when she did, she’d only been able to reach Michael. His death was a mild satisfaction, for she’d failed to touch Sabira and her child, and she’d also failed to find the bloodstone.

  For seventeen years she’d waited for another chance at that stone. She wouldn’t fail again.

  Too bad she couldn’t hear the conversation now. She wanted to know what the two women talked about. For tonight, she’d have to content herself with the reality that they were here. Tomorrow, while they attended to the details of death, she’d take back the stone.

  Now she could only do one thing. Calling the darkness, Elizabeth began to chant, power flowing out like the ocean tide until it wafted across the yard and over the house.

  Chapter Three

  “Wait.” Vespera held her hand up. Her face grew troubled.

  “Hey.” Adriana shrugged. “It’s your ten minutes.”

  Seriously, what was up with this woman? If she wasn’t so tired, she’d kick her ass out. It probably was because she was exhausted that she’d even allowed herself to be drawn in. Well, that and because she was curious. She wanted to know why Vespera claimed to be her mother’s sister. Okay, so maybe she looked like Mom, but still, wouldn’t she know if her mother had a sister? As much as it pained her to admit it, perhaps not.

  Her parents hadn’t exactly been verbose when it came to talking about their families or their pasts. Their conversations were always firmly grounded in the here and now. Looking back wasn’t something she ever remembered either of them doing. The absence of family tales had been such a normal part of her upbringing that she’d never thought it odd…until now.

  “She’s here,” Vespera said.

  She? “I’m tired, and your cloak-and-dagger crap is getting on my nerves.” Might as well be honest. Weird as her parents might have been, she was too exhausted to give a damn right now.

  “Please, allow me a moment.”

  “No. I’m tired and I’m done with this shit.”

  Vespera didn’t appear to hear Adriana. Her blue eyes were narrowed and her breathing quickened. “Goddess protect us,” she began, her arms outstretched. “By the power of the moon, I call on you to guard this house, this woman, the stone.”

  The floorboards shuddered beneath Adriana’s feet; the whole house seeming to shiver. Something she couldn’t quite describe wafted over her skin, bringing the hair up on the back of her neck.

  “What the hell…” Blackness began to tinge the edges of her vision.

  Adriana came to on the sofa, her eyes blinking from the assault of bright lamplight. Vespera had pulled a chair next to her and held a cool, damp cloth to her forehead.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “What the fuck just happened?” She still felt the quiver of something very odd in the air, as if the house was filled with a strange presence.

  “I cast a protection spell on the house so that she can’t get in.”

  She again. “Who can’t get in? Who would even want to? I don’t think I know many people in New Haven anymore.”

  “She’s not a friend.”

  Wearying didn’t even begin to describe this woman. “Can you just spit it out?”

  Vespera’s blue eyes seemed to grow sad. “I’m sorry. This is all very confusing for you, I know. It is well past time for the truth. So, let me tell you a story about a man, a woman, and a bloodstone.”

  Chapter Four

  The bloody bitch! How dare she cast a spell over the house? Like that would even stop her? They hadn’t faced each other for many years, but even Vespera had to remember who the better warrior was. Elizabeth was a Keeper, and from all accounts, one of the most powerful. Few had ever measured up to her, and none would ever have to again.

  The Keepers had waited over three hundred years to get this close, and she was the one who would finally set him free. Then and only then would they return to Tigeran. With the victory, the throne would be theirs and she would sit at his side.

  But first, she needed to stop Vespera. Though Vespera’s presence was unexpected, it did not mean she was unprepared. On the contrary, in this uninteresting world where people scuttled about like insects, she’d had years to hone her skills. True, Vespera was a powerful Sorceress, but she was stronger. A little time was all she needed to break through the protection spell to retrieve the stone.

  Elizabeth turned and faded into the shadows, making her way to the green. Like the Keepers before her, she took a key from her pocket to let herself into Center Church. The building, indeed the land itself, had changed over the years. What once had been the open land was now hidden from view beneath the latest incarnation of the church. In the crypt, headstones rose from between the brick cobbled floor in a macabre landscape.

  For the Keepers, the evolution proved advantageous. It served to keep him safe century after century. Even with the steady stream of visitors who came to view the old cemetery beneath the floors of the church, he was protected as he lay concealed within the oldest known grave.

  She dropped to her knees and carefully removed the bricks from around the headstone of Sarah Trowbridge. Once she had the earth exposed, she started to dig with the small shovel she’d taken from a storage closet at the back of the church.

  She dug for a full half hour before she reached it. Beneath the soil, still sheathed in tooled leather, the dagger looked as beautiful as the day it had been buried. Its magic remained strong even after all the years. She wrapped her fingers around the hilt and pulled it from the sheath. The metal of the blade gleamed and it vibrated gently in her palm. The feeling of holding it in h
er hand was indescribable. So many others before her had wished for this honor, and yet it had fallen to her.

  Rightly so.

  She was the chosen one. She’d known it since the day of her induction into the Order of the Keepers. Even then she’d realized how special she was. Her destiny was intertwined with his and the power that would belong to them soon.

  The only flaw was the empty depression on the hilt of the dagger. Five stones gave the weapon its true power. He had been poised to rule both worlds when the intact dagger had been used to part the veil between the worlds on that long ago Beltane night. What happened next was the tragedy the Keepers had been trying to right for centuries. Four of the five stones had been restored to the dagger. Only one remained, and now she was about to seize it.

  Chapter Five

  “So spit it out already. I’ve had a long day and what I’d really like to do is have a drink and go to sleep.”

  Vespera nodded. “Did you ever know what your mother’s name means?”

  Great, a history lesson. That’s exactly what she needed tonight. “Yeah, patience or something like that. Dad told me when I was a kid.”

  “The patient one.”

  “Whatever, get to the point.”

  “Your parents really were the perfect match, you know. He was the strongest warrior in Tigeran, and Sabira was both brilliant and patient. They brought out the best in each other.”

  Patient…her mother? She wondered if they were talking about the same person. The one she remembered had been sullen and angry. She’d thought for years that her mother’s scorn was because she blamed Adriana for the death of her father. At least that’s what she’d thought until tonight. Walking into the house had been a huge surprise.

  “My mother was volatile.”

  Vespera shook her head. “No, she wasn’t, but she wanted you to think that.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, not at all. She acted the way she did to protect you.”