by J. E. Taylor
I watched as he gathered himself to take another step. I followed his advice and dropped my clothing in the pile, leaving only my bra and underwear in place. I stepped to his side and took hold of his arm.
He glanced at me, the question in his expression made me smile.
“You look like you need a hand,” I said.
We stepped out of the shower, careful to avoid the tacky blood on the floor and I led him to the bedroom. When he turned to his dresser, I bit back the gasp. His back was still traversed with oozing wounds.
“Do you have any bandages?” I asked with my gaze locked on the thin trails of blood running down to the waistband of his underwear where it soaked into the fabric creating a pattern I couldn’t tear my eyes from.
He paused with a t-shirt in his hand and cocked his head, like he was thinking through the catalog of items he had in this daytime sanctuary. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t even think I have Band-Aids,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Why, is it still that bad?”
I laughed, yanked from my thirsty stare by his question. “Whatever you put on, you’ll ruin.”
“Shit,” he said and dropped the shirt back in the drawer. He peeled off the wet underwear and switched it for a dry pair. Rummaging around the drawer, he finally found an old pair of cut off sweats, pulling them on before he turned toward me.
“Are you just going to stand and stare or are you going to get dressed?”
His curt attitude slapped me into action and I changed into one of the more comfortable lounging accessories I bought and turned. Damian stood with his hand gripping the top of the chair next to the dresser like it was the only thing holding him upright.
“Do you need my help?” I asked crossing to him and he sent a weak smile in my direction. I took that as a yes and wrapped my arm around him and he steered us toward the small kitchenette that I didn’t know existed.
“You haven’t seen the entire place yet,” he said and hobbled to the refrigerator. When he opened the door, I gasped at the content.
“What’d you do, raid a blood bank?”
He shrugged and took out two bags of O positive from the stash. “I only took the most common blood type and it’s just for emergencies.” He met my gaze and hobbled to the counter across the small expanse. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two large goblets that looked like they came from ancient times.
The moment he ripped open the bag, the sweet scent settled in my head and my thirst went from a whisper to a scream, I was at his side reaching before he was done pouring. He intercepted my wrist long enough to squeeze out the last drop and then he handed the cup to me. I didn’t wait for him, I drank in greedy gulps, the liquid fueling a new energy in my tired cells.
“Kind of like crack, isn’t it?” he asked, licking his lips. I saw the same renewed energy in his eyes that ran amok in my body. He dropped the empty packages in the garbage under the sink and took the glass from my hands, cleaning both of them and putting them in the drain before turning back to me.
My gaze traveled back to the refrigerator. I wanted more but he took a grip of my upper arm, pulling me away from the source of my craving. I let him, knowing he was right, but the base animal at my core let out a growling groan and he stopped.
“That’s all we need to recharge,” he said and I found his hard gaze. “Any more and you won’t be able to resist attacking a human.”
His words pierced through the hunger, dissolving it into a twitching itch at the base of my spine and I nodded, understanding his warning. I didn’t want to kill the innocent and he gave me a nod.
“Neither do I,” he whispered.
He was in my head again and I pulled out of his grip.
“I can’t help it, Naomi, and I don’t know how to shut it off.” He offered a shrug. “This is as new to me as being a vampire is to you.”
“You’ve never read other’s minds?”
Damian shook his head. “No. That’s been another unique development and it’s only you that I can read.”
I thought about the flood of information I received when he offered his blood to me yesterday and I nodded. I hadn’t experienced anything like that in my mortal life.
He reached out and took my hand, leading me back to the bedroom.
“What are you? A sex addict?” I said.
“No, I need some sleep,” he said. “And I don’t want you to get into trouble.” I didn’t resist when he pulled me close, his form wrapped around me, fitting around me in the perfect spoon, like we had done this a thousand times before. The natural ease of it sparked in my soul and I sighed. His lips trailed down my neck and the back of my shoulder. “Thank you for saving my life,” he whispered.
I let the silence settle until his soft snores caressed my neck, tickling and I smiled, closing my eyes and letting sleep take over.
Chapter Twenty - Damian
Fire ripped through my back again and my heart leapt into my throat at the sight of the white tiger launching over my head.
I sat up in the bed, my eyes adjusting to the darkness before my gaze landed on her warm form stretched out beside me, the soft rhythm of her breath told me she was still in the grips of slumber and I rubbed my face. She had saved my life today and I couldn’t comprehend what would have happened if they had caught her.
The thought produced a shudder and I stood, collecting our dirty garments and heading to the bathroom to clean up the mess.
I stood in the doorway staring at the blood soaked towel on the floor, and my heart ached. I could have killed her today and I have no idea what stopped me. All I remember is the visceral craving for more, and then the soft whisper of her voice triggered strength at the core of my soul commanding me to stop pulling the blood from her veins.
I turned away from the blood soaked floor and headed into the kitchen, pulling the garbage can from under the sink and the mop from the closet. The towel and my shredded shirt landed in the garbage with the empty blood containers. I tossed the clothing from the shower into the washing machine and turned the load on before I went back to mop up the tacky layer still covering the floor.
Naomi walked in with her nose wrinkled just as I started my third pass with the mop.
“Smells like bleach.”
“Yep,” I said, more convinced now that I should have died on the floor than when I started cleaning. The fact I was still alive and had enough strength to do this raked over my skin as brutally as that demon’s whip.
The shift in her mood hung on the air. “What the hell is your problem?”
I dropped the mop and crossed the room taking her by the upper arms and slammed her into the wall. “I could have killed you,” I snapped, the emotions swarming through me surfaced like a tornado flattening a Midwestern town.
“But you didn’t,” she answered in a small voice that paled behind her wide eyes.
I leaned in close, snarling; the storm taking hold and turning me into a thoughtless bastard intent on making her regret her decision to sacrifice herself for me. “You don’t understand how fucking dangerous that was!” I pointed to the sparkling floor that no longer held the evidence of my near demise.
Her eyes darted from mine to the spot and back.
“And what if they had gotten hold of you out there,” I pointed toward the ceiling. “I would have had to watch you die,” I said and my voice cracked. For the first time in at least a thousand years, my eyes misted and I let go, turning my back on her. “They would have made me watch you die,” I repeated and walked away from her trying to figure out why that thought nearly brought me to my knees.
She came to me, stepping into my line of sight and raising my chin until I met her gaze.
“I’m not going to apologize for saving you,” she said and the warmth in her eyes made my jaw clench and my eyes blink against the wavering view.
I reached up and took her face in my hands, the warm skin stirring the need deep in me and I kissed her. “Why did God deliver an angel to me?” I
asked when I pulled away.
She laughed and it brought a smile to my lips.
“I’m no angel,” she said. “I want vengeance just as much as you do.” She pulled out of my grip and turned me, so my back faced her. The trail of her fingers down my skin sent a spark to a region lower than my beltline. “Your back healed up nicely while we slept.”
“Changing the subject?” I turned back to her and her cheeks flushed.
“Kind of,” she said and spun, heading into the living room. She slumped in the couch and I glanced at the mop and bucket in the bathroom, deciding it could wait. When I took the seat across from her, she picked at the cuticle on her thumb.
“The demon whipping you was the same one from the other night,” she said.
“I gathered from your reaction.”
She looked up at me.
“I hope I’m never on the receiving end of your wrath.”
She cracked a small smile. “Just don’t cross me.”
I couldn’t fathom crossing her, quite the opposite. I’d gladly lay down my life for her and that certainty wasn’t driven by responsibility or Michael’s ultimatum. It was driven by something much deeper. I was just beginning to realize how much her strength and beauty reminded me of her distant grandmother.
“You remind me of Athena,” I blurted and then pressed my lips together, looking away from the surprised gaze she leveled at me.
“Mark sent me an email.”
That got my attention and I nearly gave myself whiplash turning my head back in her direction. Every level of emotion inside my core turned the black shade of anger. There was a man I’d willingly tear limb from limb just for fun and the closer I got to Naomi, the bigger that fury grew.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“I didn’t open it yet. I don’t want him to know I’m alive.” She shifted on the couch. “And I wasn’t sure if I opened the email, if it would lead them to us.”
I sent a smile her way. “I’ve already thought of that. I’ve got so many ghost URL’s that they’d never find the source. They’re more likely to attack my Paris home than anything in the states.”
“You understand technology?”
I laughed. “What else is there to do during the day?”
“So, what, you take online classes?”
“Yes. It keeps my mind sharp and I have to admit the computer revolution has been a blessing. Getting educated prior to online courses was a pain in the ass.” I stood and reached out. “Come on; let’s see what he has to say.”
She stood, allowing me to take her hand and lead her to the office where she took the seat and I stood behind her, leaning on the back of the black leather seat while she logged into her account.
“Should I open it?” She glanced up at me.
“Hang on.” I waved her from the seat and pulled up the virus program I wrote, scanning her email account for hidden code, deleting any Trojan horse I found. I typed a few more commands blocking any return receipts notifying the sender that she opened the email, and then gave her the seat. “No one will know you opened any of the messages now.”
Naomi moved the mouse over the message and hesitated, her hand pulling away from the controls like the message was going to deliver her news that she couldn’t stomach. She took a deep breath and I could feel her nervous energy.
“It will be okay,” I said and she gave me a glare.
“In what world is what he did okay?” she asked and I put my hands on her shoulders.
“He can’t hurt you anymore,” I said, but the doubt in her gaze left me cold.
The click of the mouse pulled my attention to the screen and we both stared at the message. It was an apology of sorts, one meant to cover his ass if her body was ever found and my fists clenched.
“He called my grandfather?” she whispered in the seat. “That bastard.”
My intuition prickled. “Is he…”
“No, he’s a tribal elder of the Mohegan Indian tribe.” She glanced at me. “That’s where my last name originates.”
I stared at the screen. “You think he’s sending you some sort of warning?”
Naomi shook her head. “No. He’s expecting that if I’m alive, I’ll run to my grandfather to make sure he’s okay. It’s a trap.”
Another email popped into her box and she opened it.
Mark’s words leapt off the screen producing a growl in my throat.
“Now he’s just fishing,” Naomi whispered and leaned back in the chair with her arms crossed. The glare she sent at the screen matching mine.
“He called you a slut,” I said.
She glanced up at me. “He’s doing it to get a response.”
“I’ll give him a fucking response.” The back of the chair creaked under my crushing grip. My gaze moved from the screen to her. A smile played on her lips as her gaze met mine. “What are you smiling at?”
“You getting all protective of my honor,” she teased.
I relaxed my grip on the chair and chuckled.
“So when are we going after the dickwad?”
My smile faded. “We have to give it a few weeks.” Disappointment transformed her lovely features. “We have to wait until he stops sending you emails. That’ll mean he believes you’re dead and his guard will drop. Besides, I’d be willing to bet Lucifer has one of his more diligent details tagging along with your boyfriend there, and if we strike while they’re around, today will seem like a walk in the park in comparison.” I let that settle between us.
Her gaze held mine and she nodded, glancing back at the screen. “The demons today…”
“I told the truth,” I said answering her before she finished the question and her head snapped around. “I said you were delicious.” I couldn’t help the grin that surfaced.
“So they thought I was dead?”
“Yes, they made that assumption,” I said, offering her a shrug. “Otherwise, they would have used me as bait to flush you out.”
The way her eyes widened made me want to kiss her fears away and I leaned down, planting a peck on her forehead.
“What if Lucifer finds out I’m alive?”
I stood and walked out of the office. The question brought forth a wealth of images, none of which I wanted to discuss with her. She followed and grabbed my shoulder, turning me toward her.
“What will he do?”
I laughed and looked at the ceiling. “Before he cut your heart out, he’d shatter what’s left of your innocence just to spite me.”
“Why?”
“Because, he’d assume the only reason you were alive was because I fell in love with you.”
Chapter Twenty-one - Naomi
His words created a warm ripple through my form. “Are you?”
“Am I what?” he asked, but the softness in the question told me much more than I anticipated.
I put my hands on my hip, cocking my head and raising an eyebrow.
He laughed, turning away.
“Damian?”
His shoulders tightened and he glanced to the side, not quite meeting my inquisitive stare.
“Talk to me.”
“I have to finish cleaning the bathroom,” he said and sauntered away.
My gaze landed on the mural and I crossed, studying the intricate detail. The familiarity of the setting chilled me and set me on fire at the same time. It was the snow-covered glen that I circled around to save his life, however the snow was much deeper than the dusting today and my posture in the picture was relaxed, almost playful while I tracked the hawk in the sky above.
I turned at the rustle behind me. Damian carried the empty bucket and mop toward the laundry area.
“You might want to check the stairway, too,” I said.
He stopped and scanned the dark tiles that led from the entry to the bathroom and swung the mop from its resting place on his shoulder. Watching him clean created a peculiar heat in me and he sent a sideways glance in my direction accompanied by a knowing smirk.
“This turns you on?” he asked without diverting his attention from his task.
“A little,” I answered. I hadn’t seen Mark lift a finger to clean anything up in all the years we were together and the sight of a man cleaning just warmed my soul. My eyes traveled over his form sparking a carnal hunger and I licked my lips.
Damian stopped and crossed his arms, leaning them on the mop, sending a grin my way. “Will you please get your mind out of the gutter so I can finish this?”
It was my turn to grin.
“Ah, fuck it,” he said, letting the mop drop to the floor and crossing the room in a flash, tackling me onto the couch.
I giggled as he settled over me and grinned, looking exactly like a normal impulsive twenty-five-year-old and for a moment, I lost the ability to breathe. His eyes sparkled with a light humor that I hadn’t seen from a man since high school.
“You are insatiable,” he said.
I let out a breathy laugh, my gaze locked with his. “What would happen if I let you shatter my innocence?” I asked with a coy teasing tone.
His reaction wasn’t what I expected.
Damian’s smile faded and the sparkle in his eyes turned into a burning flame. He pressed his lips to mine for the briefest instant and then pulled away.
“If you were to allow me the honor, any man, mortal or otherwise, who dared to lay a finger on you from that point forward, would be signing his own death warrant.”
“Oh, really?” I toyed with him. “And what about all those women who throw themselves at your feet?”
He laughed and chills traversed my skin.
“Baby, they don’t matter,” he said and leaned in to kiss me again.
I put my hand between his lips and mine, narrowing my eyes. “Does that mean you can play the field but I have to be all saintly?”
His eyebrows arched in surprise. “No, that means it would only be you. You’d be my playing field.” He let the silence fill the space and then added, “The only field I’d ever play on.” And with that, he grinned. “Does this mean you’re considering it?”