Crimson Psyche

by Lynda Hilburn

  I smiled even wider and scooted over, giving him room to sit next to me. I smoothed my hand along his leather-clad leg, heading north. “That’s more like it. Less talking, more sex.”

  He stared at me. “Victoria and Nigel are correct: you are indeed behaving like a hormonal adolescent. I must find a way to counteract Hallow’s influence to keep you safe. This new personality you are exhibiting is mindless and dangerous, just like the one who contaminated you.”

  “What new personality?” My fingers reached the zipper of his pants. I’d just started making him much more comfortable when he grabbed my hand and lifted it away from his crotch. “No. We have important matters to discuss. Personal pleasure can wait. Tell me what you remember of the last twenty-four hours.”

  I stuck my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, but when I got no response from my undead judge and jury I said grumpily, “I don’t remember anything.” And then, having said that, I realized the last couple of days were rather fuzzy. I had the sense that I should remember something, and something important at that, but I just couldn’t bring whatever it was into focus. I could recall the clients I’d seen on Friday, but after that, everything was gone.

  Devereux shook my arm. “Kismet? Are you listening to me?”

  I started to tell him that I’d been trying to remember something that might be helpful, but different words came out of my mouth. “No. You’ve finally bored me into a coma.” I scrambled onto my knees and climbed on top of him, pushing him flat on the mattress. As I straddled his hips, my short skirt rode up even higher, collecting around my waist and displaying my lack of underwear. I peeled off my transparent shirt and threw it on the floor. “Personal pleasure can’t wait.”

  I untucked his T-shirt from his pants and shoved the fabric out of the way as I bent to lick his nipples. He wound his fingers into my hair and yanked my head up. “Where is your protective necklace? I instructed Luna to tell you to wear it. Did she fail to convey my message? She will be punished if that is the case.”

  He released my hair and I sat up. “You have the most annoying one-track mind. Yes, the she-fiend told me, but I guess I forgot, or maybe I decided I didn’t want to wear the damn thing. It is up to me, you know. Now, be a good little vampire and let me have my way with you.” I’d never heard him threaten Luna before. Maybe there was something going on that I didn’t know about. But if it meant Evil Vampira would be out of the picture, that definitely worked for me.

  Before he could start on the next lecture, I opened his fly, crawled to the foot of the bed and tugged forcefully on the leather until he lifted his ass enough for the pants to slide off freely. He made a squeaky, completely unmaster-vampire sound which I attributed to his surprise at my strength.

  I held his leather pants in the air, grinning at my success and appreciating the rigid erection stretching across his abdomen.

  He sat up, a wicked smile spreading his lips. “So, you wish to play rough, yes? In that case, I believe I can accommodate you.” Faster than my eyes could track, he grabbed my arms and dragged me up his body, and still holding on, he wrapped his legs tightly around my hips, effectively restraining me. It was my turn to make a noise, but mine was one of pleasure. I certainly liked being trapped this way.

  I wiggled against his thick erection. “Lay it on me, Fang Boy.”

  He growled and flipped us over. “As you wish,” he murmured as he landed on top of me, his platinum hair covering my face for a couple of seconds before he jerked his head from side to side, flipping the lustrous strands behind him. He’d obviously had a lot of practice with that move, because the hair cooperated. I wondered how many thousands of women he’d had sex with in his long, long life, and smiled as I considered the educational possibilities.

  It occurred to me that things might be more interesting if I put up a bit of a struggle, so I twisted my body until I was able to free an arm. A shocked expression flashed across his features before he narrowed his eyes, and reclaimed the escaped limb. He pulled both my arms tightly over my head and secured them in one of his large hands.

  “Feel free to fight and struggle, my little psychologist. I know it is the maniac’s influence causing this aggression in you, but I can assure you that I am not without experience in this arena. Be very careful what you ask for, my love, for you might receive it.”

  I stared up into twin pools of aqua quicksand and fluttered my eyelashes. “I’m counting on it,” I purred.

  Wicked-fast, he forced my legs apart. I could feel his erection lying heavy against me and I struggled to lift my hips high enough to put out the welcome mat, but he ignored my invitation. Instead, he grabbed my hair with his free hand and held my head in place, all the time watching me with his entrancing eyes. Then he raised his upper lip, exposing fully extended fangs.

  Little moans erupted from my mouth as my body trembled. He smiled and lowered his lips to mine, but instead of the full-on passionate kiss I’d expected, he caught my lip between his teeth and fangs and bit down gently. He groaned as the blood flowed, and the coppery liquid slid across my tongue, driving me wild with need. “Please,” I begged. I wanted him so badly, to touch me, to fill me.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he lifted his head, his mouth smeared with my blood, and licked his way down to my breast. He began sucking roughly on my nipple and that sensation was somehow directly connected to the hot, tingling area between my legs. “Oh, yeah — that’s what I want,” I groaned and he paused for a second, then sliced his fangs into the tender skin around my nipple and resumed sucking.

  I screamed — it was horribly exquisite — and struggled to break free, not because I wanted him to stop, but because I wanted to take matters into my own hands. But even with my newly enhanced strength, I couldn’t budge him. As he drew the blood from the fang holes on either side of my nipple, rushes of ecstasy shimmered through my body. I kept screaming until my throat was raw and my mouth so dry, all I could do was whimper.

  Finally, he lifted his head and locked eyes with mine. A circle of red surrounded the normal turquoise-blue-green of his irises and the colors swirled together. He licked his lips slowly, his tongue darting out to catch the crimson drops dotting his chin.

  Jesus. He was astounding, all that shining blond hair and dazzling eyes. Just seeing him with my blood on his face made me crazy. My breath came in rapid pants and I continued trying to twist out of his grip, still with no success. But at last he smiled, raised his hips to alter his angle and thrust deep inside me in one smooth motion. I was so wet, it was perfect. Still holding my wrists captive in one hand, he used his other to grab my hair again and this time while keeping my head immobile, he kissed me, as if he were feasting at my mouth, pulling the life-force from my body, all swollen lips and probing tongue.

  It was awesome.

  Devereux pounded himself into me with fierce determination, and now we were both making animal sounds as we pressed our lips even tighter together. My orgasm was building, and I matched his rhythm with my hips, the ferocity of his thrusts causing a mixture of pleasure and pain. He contracted inside me as he raised his mouth and spoke in the strange, lyrical language he sometimes used. The power of his release pushed me over the edge and I made strangled croaking noises, all my lacerated throat was capable of.

  His pale skin was flushed, maybe from all the blood he’d taken from me, and his heart beat fast and loud. An almost-goofy grin slid across his perfect face. “Would you like more?”

  Yes! But... maybe not right now.

  The area between my legs was tender and raw. I’d had sex with Devereux more times than I could count, but he had never been quite as large before. He’d said it was possible for a vampire to transform aspects of his physical appearance. Good to know it was true.

  “I think I’d better rest a while.” I grinned up at him. “You’ve made your point. You are indeed the Boink Master.”

  He released my wrists and fell on the bed next to me, lying on his back. I examined, then rubbed, the red skin o
n my arms where he’d held me, before shifting my gaze to the nipple he’d gnawed on. The skin around it was bruised and swollen and the tiny fang holes still oozed. There’d be a rainbow of colors by morning. I turned my head. “Geez, Blondie, you really did a number on my body. I think I like this side of you. I’ll bet you have lots of sexual tricks to show me.”

  He gave a lazy smile and balanced onto his side, facing me. He propped himself up with an elbow and rested his head against his palm. “I am always happy to find ever-more-creative ways to make love to you, but I wonder how wild you will wish our coupling to be after you are freed from the monster’s influence. I plan to do whatever I must to remove you from his power.”

  “You keep saying I’m under someone’s power. I think you’re losing your marbles. I’m no different than usual, maybe just in a better mood. Are you complaining?”

  “Of course not. I was happy with our sexual relationship before your personality changed, so you need not worry about my expectations.”

  I laughed. “Your expectations? Do you believe I’ll ever be one of your handmaidens?”

  He readjusted his position, lying on his back, his fingers laced behind his head. “No, but I am hoping you will respect the fact that I have been around much longer than you, and I usually know what is best for you.”

  “What?” I sprang up and glared at him. “Like some undead daddy? You think you know what’s best for me?”

  “Yes, I do.” He angled his head toward me. “I am very old and you will have to admit that I was right to protect your home and to order you to remain there until our appointment here at midnight. My actions kept you safe from Hallow’s madness. I wish to compliment you for your willingness to trust my judgment.”

  “So, you’re saying that you just tell me what to do and then trust that I’ll follow your instructions?”

  “Yes. I am very powerful. I offer protection. How could it be otherwise?”

  “And you think I want to be protected?”

  “Regardless of whether or not you wish to be protected, I intend to make it so.”

  I couldn’t remember a large chunk of my recent past, but something about Devereux’s assertion that he’d ordered me to remain at home and I’d followed his commands wasn’t quite right. He sounded so confident that he could take my actions for granted. I didn’t know why that struck me as amusing, but it did.

  He climbed on top of me and smiled, flicking his long hair out of the way. “Let us not argue. All will be well soon enough. Hallow will be taken care of, your personality will return to its normal charming self and we will continue to forge our future.” He kissed me sweetly.

  I enjoyed the kiss, prolonging it as long as possible. After he pulled away, I gazed up at him and smiled. “So, let me just make sure I’m clear on the game plan, Gorgeous. Because you’re the undead Methuselah and one of the most powerful bloodsuckers on the planet, you get to decide what I will and won’t do with my life? You’ll make my choices for me?”

  “I would not put it exactly that way,” Devereux said carefully, “but I will certainly give you the benefit of my expanded knowledge and experience. I will take very good care of you. You will never want for anything.”

  Except freedom.

  “Uh-huh. And what is the benefit to you for having me as your subjugated female? What’s the payoff for keeping your mate under your thumb?”

  He appeared genuinely surprised by the questions. “Subjugated? Under my thumb? How could you think such a thing? You will be revered and cherished. Your life will be enhanced. The benefit to me of having my mate by my side is too complex a topic to discuss in your unnatural state of mind.”

  “Hmm. I see. Too complex. Well, what about when my physical body ages, rots and dies? What’s the plan, then? Will you have me mummified and displayed in your penthouse? Maybe alongside my portrait?”

  “There is a ritual.” His expression became serious. “You will be able to share some of my gifts. But we will speak of this another time.”

  “Does it involve me drinking more of your blood? Are you talking about turning me into a bloodsucker?”

  “I have told you it is not easy to become a vampire. For optimum results it must be freely chosen. Now, no more talk of this tonight.” He rubbed his erection against me. “Are you too tender from our previous lovemaking, or shall we have an encore?”

  I grinned. “I’m ready if you are, Maestro, but this time I’m on top.” I straddled his hips, then impaled myself on him. I clenched my vaginal muscles, gripped him as tightly as I could and got a rhythm going. He planted his hands on my waist, holding me in place while he pumped his hips. He stared at me with those hypnotic turquoise eyes as his tongue played with the tips of his fangs.

  I gave him my best innocent smile. “Do you want more of my blood, my Dark Prince?”

  He hissed and pulled my upper body down to his. His soft, warm lips plundered mine, our tongues dancing, then he kissed his way to my neck and bit. We moaned in concert as our shared orgasm built between us and exploded.

  When the aftershocks quieted, I sat up and gazed down at him. “Drinking blood must be good. Why is it that you won’t let me sample yours?”

  He studied me for a few seconds. “Have you forgotten what you learned from the elders about drinking from me? The negative consequences? Even the fact that you do not remember such an important thing is evidence of your altered mind. You are currently incapable of making considered decisions, so I will take charge. I will not let you harm yourself. You have no need for vampire blood.”

  “He is lying.” A familiar deep voice floated through my mind. “Break the glass on the nearby table and cut him — drink, and see for yourself.”

  Really? Well, why not?

  I glanced at the bedside table and saw a small vase sitting there. Moving oddly fast, I grabbed it, tossed the lone flower and its water onto the floor and smashed the glass against the table edge. A large piece broke away, leaving a sharp corner, and without hesitation or thought I drew the jagged edge of the vase along Devereux’s stomach and watched the blood blossom from the cut. I caught a fleeting glimpse of his shocked face before I bent, licked the blood with my tongue, then sucked hard on the wound.

  Devereux grabbed a handful of hair and jerked my head up. Anger and fear fought for dominance in his face as he cried, “Stop! What have you done? My blood is poison for you — it could kill you!”

  Chapter 13

  Devereux jerked into a sitting position and knocked the splintered glass from my grip. I watched the piece of vase sail through the air. He released my hair, snarling, and recoiled as if he’d been clutching Medusa’s snakes.

  I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth, smearing his blood along my cheek.

  “I don’t know about it killing me, but it sure tastes like shit.” I stuck my tongue out. “How can you drink that crap all the time? Do me a favor and stake me right away if I start to turn into a vampire. I’d rather be dead.”

  Devereux’s scowl clued me in to the fact that he was no longer in a playful mood, but that was okay, because I’d started feeling weird. Suddenly, everything was too bright. My lips tingled, and my throat contracted, making it difficult to swallow. I could see Devereux’s mouth moving, but the sound dissolved into the abyss stretching between us before it could reach my ears. But even without the volume, it was easy to read his anger.

  I slid off him and tried to say, “I think I’ve had enough fun for one night. I’m going to go home—” but my numb lips weren’t cooperating. “Uh-oh.” My head flopped onto the bed. The room spun and my stomach was cartwheeling.

  ***

  I must have nodded off for a few minutes because the next thing I knew, I was loosely wrapped in the bedspread, lying in the center of a colorful pentagram etched into the marble-tile floor of Devereux’s room. Chanting bodies encircled me, their voices rumbling in a soft, monotonous drone. Lit candles cast soft light and deep shadows and a strong aroma wafted from incense burners
scattered around the space, reminding me of a Christmas Mass I had attended as a child.

  I recognized Luna, who was standing next to a Johnny Depp look-alike, but the rest of the participants were strangers. Scanning the expressions on their faces told me that whatever the purpose for their gathering, it wasn’t good.

  Devereux knelt next to me and looped something around my neck. I shifted my gaze down to see what it was. My protective necklace. He must have retrieved it from my house.

  “What’s going on?” Still slightly dizzy, I tried to sit up. “Why are you all standing around me?”

  Devereux pressed me down to the floor with his hand on my shoulder. “No, Kismet, do not move yet. My blood had a seriously debilitating effect on you — you have been unconscious. We have discovered the situation is much worse than I had feared. Drinking from me has somehow deepened Hallow’s influence over you, which is why he commanded you to do it. We have been attempting to remove some of the psychic tendrils he thrust into your aura, but he is more powerful than I ever imagined. I have called every master vampire, healer and wizard available to assist. They are still arriving and we will work through the night. I will not let him have you.”

  “Have me? What happened? Why do I feel so terrible? I drank your blood?” My voice sounded feeble.

  He frowned. “What is the last thing you remember?”

  I tried to concentrate through the fuzz in my head. “I was at home, getting ready to do some paperwork. I’d decided to spend a quiet evening there. How did I get to the Crypt?” I glanced down again. “Where are my clothes?”

  Devereux gazed at me with such tenderness that it frightened me. It was almost as if he pitied me, or was avoiding telling me an unpleasant fact I needed to know.