When I turned him, I thought we’d beat the odds. I allowed myself to forget. I wanted to believe we’d make it. That somehow, we’d succeed where other bonded mates turned into vampire couples had failed. We’d make it work. We’d be together forever.
But we didn’t. In only six months, I couldn’t handle watching him quench his thirst with every pretty woman that crossed his path. It was like a knife twisting in my heart when he’d glamour another wench and suck and fuck his way to satiation.
Despite the ability to drink and walk away. An option he was too uninterested in to try. Even if he could have resisted the temptation, he chose not to.
Never again. We’ve parted ways and he’s living on his own. He is one turn I will gladly wipe from my mind. Marrying a pirate and granting him immortality was the biggest mistake I ever made. To lose my heart and walk away was the greatest pain I’ve suffered since Charles’s death, my second husband who sacrificed himself so I could live free of Mikov’s tyranny.
This latest entry clears up the origin of Dria’s lingering doubts about whether we could make it or not as a vampire couple. She’s told me repeatedly how two vampires can’t stay bonded to each other, that it never works. I often wondered if she knew from personal experience, or was it just something she’d been told over and over again.
Thankfully, there’s a sketch of him as well. I note the page, skipping back pages to note his given name was Samuel, and jump forward to the next search response.
Virginia was a beautiful young woman. But even if she’d been plain and drab, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Those stupid townsfolk had her strung up and ready to burn without even hearing her side of the story. They thought they had the right because she’s a witch. Their ignorant, hate-filled faces leered and jeered, practically cheering for her death.
Who does that? I know I broke the one and only rule Mikov said should never be broken. Never turn a witch. How bad could it really be? She’s not even twenty years old. There’s no way she’s some angry, powerful witch I have to worry about going crazy and seeking revenge on the townspeople who tried to kill her.
She’s still innocent enough to forgive. To move forward and live her new existence with goodness and discipline. I will not fail her.
I’ll watch her longer. I’ll keep her with me for a year or more if I have to. I won’t unleash a vampire-witch with uncontrollable blood lust on the population of New England. This is my first turn in the new country, and I will ensure my rule-breaking doesn’t lead to dire consequences.
Holy shit.
Dria created a vampire-witch, who may very well have become a manipulator at some point after she left. She may have unknowingly created the very thing the Atlantis vampires feared beyond anything else—a vampire with the ability to manipulate their fellow undead, but who was also a witch who could control the elements and nature.
My heart hammers in my chest. I’m not sure what to do or say. I write everything down that might help us find this powerful vampire, not looking forward to when I have to share what I’ve found with my beloved. She doesn’t remember. She’s not to blame.
She turned each of them, knowing exactly what she was doing. How is this one any different?
Because this one, this one could change the world.
Feeling energized, I glance at the time. It’s getting late. Eager to continue our mate bond ritual, I leave the office and return to our living room, seeking my wife. There’s a lot to share with her, but it can keep until she’s satisfied and happy.
Dria lies stretched out on our couch, a white terry cloth robe wrapped around her, staring at a candle burning on a side table. There’s a hint of shadow in my wife’s brilliant green eyes, making me worry she’s thinking too much. She’s done this before, through the years, where she spends a very long time in meditation to clear her mind. Whenever we face danger, she obsesses about what’s to come, and what she can do to plan for every scenario that comes to mind.
Since we’ve made our seethe larger, she has more people to care about. Which equates to more people to worry about, and ultimately more people to keep safe.
She may come across as an independent, strong-willed, demanding individual. But what she truly is, is far beyond what most of us can accept or even understand.
Dria is a protector, in the truest sense of the word. She is a defender of the weaker people in her sphere. She alone stands between those she loves and the darkness beyond, and if that darkness dwells inside her, then she is in essence guarding us from herself.
As her mate, lover, and husband, I am the one who must protect her. Even if that means protecting her from herself.
“Come with me, liebling. It’s time for rest.” I smile, adding warmth and desire to my expression. Because I know if my words can’t make it through to her, I’ll have to use every available attribute, including a physical seduction.
She’s nothing if not a predictable creature. Vampires are by nature, driven by their desires, their wants, their bodily needs. Even when they don’t want to admit it.
“Shall I carry you?” I raise my eyebrows.
A smile, slow to form, stretches across her face. “You sneaky devil, what do you have in mind?”
“Me? Nothing too drastic I assure you. But what I do know is you’re driving yourself too hard and you’ve not had a restorative sleep in days. You push too hard, Dria. If you’re not careful our greatest defense will become our greatest weakness.”
“I hate it when you’re right. And if I say no? Are you to drag me off to our room and put me to bed like a bad little girl?”
The tilt of her chin suggests she’s teasing me, pushing to see how far I’ll go before I act. “Do you really want to test me?”
Without another word, my wife gets up and saunters toward me.
“I can smell your desires, Rafe,” she says in passing. “You obviously have more in mind than me sleeping.”
“You’ve got me. But with your vampire super-smell it’s not really much of a challenge, is it?” My eyes linger on her tight butt covered by the robe as she walks through the kitchen, heading straight for our bedroom.
She doesn’t answer, nor does she say another word until we get into our room, where she shuts the door behind me and settles at the small sitting table. “Okay, spill it. What’s on your mind?”
I settle onto the club chair closest to her and reach out take her hand. “We’ve got a lot on us. Increasing our security measures, learning new skills, and basically prepping for a war where we have no idea how many challengers we’ll face.
“And then there’s the big elephant in the room that we haven’t talked about— Jon’s girlfriend?” Dria’s eyes light up. “I think I saw her today. After Justin and I finished, I drove up to check on preparations for the jet, and a woman passed in Jon’s truck—a woman I didn’t recognize.”
My wife’s hand stiffens in mine. “Really? Are you sure it wasn’t an employee’s relative or friend come to visit?”
“I thought that could be an option at first, but why would Jon lend his car to a visitor? We’ve sensed he’s involved with someone. You haven’t wanted to talk about it before, but we need to. What do you plan to do before we leave?”
“You know, I’ve been wondering the same thing. Do we wait until he says something to us? I mean, it’s not like we don’t know. Perhaps he’s waiting for a reason? Maybe to make sure she’s the one? Taking a mate certainly shouldn’t be rushed. What do you think we should do? Do we barge in and drill him for information? I’ve been following a wait-and-see attitude to let him have space, to figure out what he really wants. Without our interference.”
“That’s all fine and dandy in a perfect world, but we are in far from ideal conditions. We’re about to leave on a lengthy journey. One that promises to be dangerous for all involved. Do we wait and allow them to mate and then bring her with us? Is there some type of lengthy mating ritual or ceremony between Weres we don’t know about? I’m out of my element here.�
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“I am too. I know what you mean. And I’m not sure what the answer is or what to do.” She squeezes my hand as her eyelids lower, a seductive glint in her sparkling green depths. “But surely that can’t be the only reason why you were so adamant with wanting me to come rest.”
“You’re right, there is. We need to do the ritual again tonight.”
“We could wait. It doesn’t have to be every day.”
“Don’t give me problems about this. We talked it over last night. In addition to you being at your highest strength and getting the restorative sleep you need, we also need us to be the strongest that we can be before heading into battle.”
And with that I draw my hand back from my wife’s and slowly begin to unbutton my shirt. Dria’s eyes travel to the skin revealed, her gaze lingering on my fingers. I know she’s thinking about how those same fingers played over her body last night, before she once again escaped sleep to leave our bed and pace, determined to hash out a plan. But the responsibility should never be hers alone, it should always fall to us both.
“Turn your mind off for a night, Dria.”
Her gaze shifts up to meet mine. “Easier said than done.”
“We have no idea what we’re facing, right? How much planning can we do? We’ve got the new members of the seethe training, honing their fighting skills, sharpening the blade, so to speak. All of us need to be at the top of our game. Including you.”
I stand and lift Dria from the chair, depositing her curvy form on our bed. I climb in on my knees, stretching out alongside her. My hand slowly trails up my wife’s thigh, stroking the exposed skin revealed by her open robe. “Okay, I understand the training aspects of things. And I know I agreed last night, but why rush the bond now? Why go through seven days of intense blood exchange when we need to be getting airborne soon? I worry about the time commitment.”
I tamp down my feelings of exasperation, worry, and fear. Putting on a strong face, I lay out why I want to do this. “I believe it will matter. I’m not sure why. Maybe, to make us stronger? Maybe, to increase our bond for long-distance communication?” Shaking my head slightly, trying to dispel unfamiliar insecure feelings, I continue, “I may not be able to put it into words well, but something inside me says this is important, and no—this isn’t a ploy to mark you or anything.”
Dria’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, really? So visiting my old lovers and old turns hasn’t got you upset or worried?”
“Are you teasing me, or implying I have a reason to be worried?”
A smile spreads across my wife’s face. “I’m teasing you, silly. You’ve got to be the least jealous person I’ve ever met my life. Well, unless it comes to Jon.”
I shift a little on the bed, my unease giving me away. It’s not that I’m jealous of Jon, per se, as it’s more I want him more than I’m comfortable with.
Maybe my subconscious hope is to build the bond stronger between Dria and me to make sure he can’t get in? God, I hate to think that of myself. After sixty-five years of marriage, have I somehow become this needy man who doesn’t trust the relationship I have with my wife?
Shake off the stupid. This is not me. I know my wife. I know our life, and I know my place in both. And whether or not Jon is there next to us doesn’t make a difference. In fact, I think we’re stronger with him by our side.
Without warning, I pin Dria to the bed. A squeak of interest and amusement sounds from her. “Oh, aren’t you the feisty one tonight.”
I stifle a smile as I lean down to trail kisses along her neck, my tongue easing out to moisten her skin before each kiss. “I want to taste you, liebling. It’s been a long time.”
Her chuckle, seductive and warm, reaches my ear. “I can think of several things I’d like you to taste.”
As I continue to plant kisses, one hand creeps lower to the junction between her thighs, applying pressure, adding to her already hot core. “You want my mouth here, liebling?”
She moans and lifts her hips from the mattress, circling slowly in search of more pressure. Wetness escapes her moist folds, dampening my fingers and encouraging me to plunge inside. “You want this, don’t you?” I say as I curve my fingers inward. “You want something, don’t you?”
Dria’s hands flutter against my chest, grasping my shirt front and releasing. She abandons my clothing and opens the tie on her robe instead, parting the terrycloth fabric to bare her newly washed skin to me. Unwilling to hold back my own desires any longer, I succumb to what we both want, and plunge my fingers deep inside her inviting warmth.
A sigh escapes her as her inner muscles clench around the firm digits. Her back arches from the bed, her hardening nipples begging to be tasted, laved, and suckled. I continue my kisses down her neck to her bare breast, capturing her right nipple and drawing it deep into my mouth.
“When you start nice and slow, I know it’s going to be a spectacular evening.”
I reach for the knife I placed earlier on the bedside table, and nick the skin near the tip of her breast. As my mouth latches over the wound, I draw deeply and project into her mind, Say the words, my love.
“My life is your life…”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JON
I jolt awake as the last ripples of a massive orgasm seep into my underwear. Extreme satiation fills me, stretching inside to fill every limb. As the warm glow encases me, I feel confused.
What the hell just happened? How am I wearing underwear? Why is it dark all of a sudden? Where are Vivian and Rafe?
Holy crap. It was all a dream.
It felt real. I was there, in their bed. I felt everything.
I ease up the sheet and slide out of bed, unwilling to wake Candy as she slumbers beside me. A glance at the bedside clock reveals that even though it’s daylight outside, it’s still not morning yet.
Shaking my head, I try to regain a sense of real and unreal. God, what the hell was that? How could I get pulled into one of their dreams? Or was it my dream and I didn’t know it? I mean, I haven’t had detailed sexual dreams like that about both them in the past.
Wouldn’t I know if it was my dream? Jesus, this feels insane. I stand, feeling wide-awake and energized despite it being hours before dawn. There’s no getting back to sleep now.
One thing I know for sure, it’s too damn early with no coffee in me to be considering such bullshit. I pad softly to the bathroom, take a quick shower, and get dressed. When I return to the bedroom, Candy’s still sleep. Good. I think I need to be by myself a little while.
Might as well head up to the hanger and see if I can help Diego with prepping the helicopter. That way, we can get in the air and searching for them as soon as possible. With a course of action laid out for me, I move to the kitchen, make myself a cup of instant coffee, pour it into a travel cup, write a note for Candy, and leave.
Within minutes, I’m pulling my truck into our airport’s small parking lot. I enter the small domed hanger to find Diego hard at work.
“Hey, man,” I call out. “I came by to see if I can help.”
“Great,” he says, sliding out from under the bird. “You sure as hell can.” Diego stands and motions to the door. “Want to get started with inside? Clean out the cabin and refresh any supplies we might need.”
“Can-do.” I stride over to the metal shelves lining the walls and grab a garbage bag, Windex, and paper towels before returning to the copter. The work is tedious, but I don’t mind. Keeps my mind off the threesome I just dreamed about.
Of course, after a few minutes, my mind wanders right back to my weird sex dream. It was a dream, right? An awkward laugh escapes me. What the hell else could it have been? A projected illusion? Shaking off the thoughts, I redouble my efforts in making the windows sparkle.
The mindless work is exactly what I need. Although, now that I think about it, if it was more challenging my thoughts wouldn’t keep drifting back to the sex I had in my sleep.
This is freaky. The mind can play horrible tricks on you.
Is it because I’ve been considering committing to Candy that these buried desires come to the surface? Does it mean maybe I’m questioning my stability with her? If she was the right one for me would I dream about being with them?
Damn, this sure as hell isn’t helping. I need to do more complicated stuff than scrubbing and cleaning and stocking stuff.
“Okay, man.” I call out while returning the supplies to their place. “I’m done. What’s next? Can I fuel it up?”
“We don’t fuel up in here. We tow the copter out to where the fuel is.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” I say, shaking my head. “Sorry, guess I’m still waking up. What else can I do?”
“Um… let me see… I wasn’t expecting any help. I’ve been working since the orders came down to get the helicopter ready. But an extra set of hands is always good. Let me finish up under the hood and then we can tow the bird out. Why don’t you go get the truck with the hitch on it?”
“Sure,” I reply. Before I go to do as he asked, another thought occurs to me. “Diego, you worked on the plane before they left, right? Did you see anything funny?”
He leans back out from the engine compartment. “What do you mean by funny? The plane didn’t need any work, it was routine maintenance and systems check before they went up.” His face goes from relaxed and inquisitive to sharp and offended in the span of a few sentences. “Jon, are you suggesting maybe I missed something?”
“No, I wasn’t trying to suggest you did anything. More like wondering what could have happened to the plane and why it went down.”
Diego’s heated tone matches his expression. “Don’t you think I’ve been racking my brain with the same questions? Did I miss something, did I forget an item on the checklist? Not that I could when I got the damn clipboard right there when I’m going through the systems check. Honestly,” he shakes his head and scratches behind his ear. “I have no idea what the hell could’ve happened. I’m hoping when we get to the wreckage, we can take a looksee.”
Sharpen the Blade (The V V Inn Book 6) Page 14