Blood Rising

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Blood Rising Page 9

by Amber Anthony


  Mother fuck it! She’d seen and heard much more than he imagined during Veronique’s little romp last night. What now? Without ever intending to, he’d cut her to the quick. Was he really that toxic for her? And, what the hell would he do about it?

  “I know how this sounds, but it’s not what it seems,” he began, and realized that sounded ludicrous. “There’s a lot more to the story with that woman I’d like to tell you sometime. Just…not right now. Okay, Cat?”

  “None of my business,” she primly sniffed. She sorted through the contents of her purse as if he were irrelevant.

  “So, uh…we’ve talked a lot about me and my past. How about you? You know, where did you grow up? Where’s your family?”

  Cat gave him a sullen glance and then relented with a cynical smile. “I’m afraid I have one of those Amityville family stories. I don’t remember any of this, but when I was four, we were at a family reunion, and one of the sons went nuts and mowed down twenty-three members of my family, including my mom and dad. The only ones who survived were me—I was napping on a blanket in the backyard—and my great grandmother, who was with me, asleep in a rocker.”

  Matt stared at her in horror. “I…Jesus, Cat, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah, I have a long history of people around me getting shot. It ought to make my friends nervous.”

  Matt reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m not nervous.”

  She gave him a reproachful glance. “Yeah, well, you’re a vampire, so I don’t think you actually count.”

  He stared at her a beat, removed his hand and looked away, giving a single nod. “So, what happened after that? I mean, a great grandmother is elderly.”

  “Sure. Since she’d been born in the 1910s, that would make her somewhere around ninety if she’d lived. Old as dirt.”

  Whew! She is pissed! Matt smothered a laugh at her jibe. “Sure, sure.”

  “I lived with Gram until she died when I was seven. Then, because there was the money of the whole collective family in my name, the private guardian decided to send me to a convent boarding school rather than putting me into the foster system. That’s where I grew up. The Sacred Heart Boarding School for Girls was home for eleven long years.”

  “I went to a parochial school. Some of the nuns…” He broke off, unsure of how to put it diplomatically. “Like everywhere I guess, most were wonderful and some were bullies with rulers.”

  “Most of mine were bullies with rulers, especially Sister Mary Immaculate.”

  “Sorry to hear that. Where is the school?”

  “Up by San Francisco. After I graduated, I wanted to go somewhere warm and free, you know? So, I took what was left of my inheritance money, which wasn’t much, applied for a scholarship at UCLA, and here I am.”

  “Working on becoming the new Jessica Fletcher, huh?” He grinned. “Maybe with a little more drama and sex for the new generation?”

  She froze, iced-up on the spot. “I doubt it. I really don’t know much about that. I’m sure you’d be the expert.” He gave her an inquiring glance. “Dominants and submissives?” she reminded with a hiss at the end. “At least if your late-night guest was any indication.”

  He cleared his throat. How the fuck should he explain this? She must think he was a total pervert, especially after last night. He actually caught himself swallowing in gulps while she surreptitiously watched him from under her lashes.

  “You know, uh…” He trailed off nervously and cleared his throat again. “You know,” he started again with more determination. “Inexperience isn’t such a bad thing. It’s a good thing to wait for the right person to come along.”

  “Matt, I’m inexperienced, not fourteen. You don’t have to reassure me, but thanks for the sentiment.”

  Matt wondered if some of the Humanité lingered in his system. He could swear he was developing a tension headache. “So, here’s the police station.” He pointed needlessly. “Why don’t you jump out and get started on your statement? I’ll park the car, and then join you.”

  She gave him a long, pensive look. “Sure. The quicker the statements are finished, the quicker I’ll be off to Brooklyn, and you can resume your regular activities.”

  “Enough, Cat!” he ground out in what was unmistakably his Dom voice, and she stared at him, a little intimidated. “Despite what you think you know about me and my activities,” he drew a deep breath and gentled his voice, “I’m not looking to be rid of you so I can—what do you think—deflower virgins, engage in ritual sacrifices or something?”

  Cold steel flinted her eyes. “Right. We can’t have you deflowering virgins, now, can we?” Before he could respond, she unsnapped her seatbelt and then stepped out of the still-rolling car, making him stomp on the brakes. “I’ll see you inside.” She slammed the door with a resounding wham.

  Their day together didn’t improve after they signed their statements, identified the bank robbers’ mug shots and gave samples of their fingerprints. Matt had to admit, he was relieved her lunch would be served on the company jet. He couldn’t imagine trying to negotiate the mine field of a meal.

  * * * *

  Cat’s depression plummeted into a deeper hole as she sat in the small terminal, hearing them announce the available flights. She watched Matt through her lashes while pretending to read a magazine. He was unsettled, as if he was wrestling with something painful. He fidgeted, paced, checked with the scheduling desk, checked his cell phone, glanced at her, and then repeated the whole process.

  Her flight was called, and he stood. She followed suit, primly extending her hand to shake. “I want to thank you, Matt, for everything you’ve done for me.”

  He looked condemningly at her outstretched hand. “That’s how you thank me?” he asked quietly, hurt evident in his eyes.

  She softened immediately. “I…how else can I…”

  He reached out and pulled her against his hard-muscled body, enveloping her in a tight hug. He dropped his head and inhaled her scent, making her feel strangely cherished. Was he memorizing her fragrance, she wondered. She raised her head tentatively, leaning her neck back the long distance it took to look into his turbulent blue eyes. She read terrible longing in them, and her heart melted.

  “I think I…” she began. Love you her heart screamed. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She absolutely would not make herself that vulnerable.

  He stared at her intently. “What?”

  “I think I…I…owe you…a…a…lot.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” He wove his hands into her hair and drew her inexorably closer as his lips descended on hers.

  He kissed her deeply, and Cat wondered if it was as meaningful to him as it was to her. She parted her lips under his onslaught, and he plunged inside as if trying to possess her with one kiss, trying to let her know the depth of his feeling.

  For Cat, everything around them fell away—the activity in the terminal, the roar of the nearby planes, the loudspeaker announcements overhead—all of it banished by his touch. Every sensation focused on the unexpected delight of Matt’s lips on hers, tongue exploring her mouth, chest pressing into her suddenly hypersensitive breasts. An electric charge surged from point to point as their bodies met, knees grazed, hips crushed, and he enfolded her in a demanding, but gentle onslaught of passion. A soft moan escaped her as she strove to grasp the powerful emotions awakened by his touch.

  Her mind swam, awash in the feeling of need clenching low in her belly, while his tongue delved deeply and thoroughly into her hungry mouth. His hips circled and pressed against her in what she was sure was a deliciously sinful rhythm. She shivered. With a single embrace, he brought her to life. She clung to him.

  Gently, he ended the kiss and stepped back, his gaze locked on hers. “I owe you,” he whispered, and then walked out of her life.

  * * * *

  Matt glanced askance at the empty apartment across the hall, Cat’s refuge for one night. It silently mocked him in her absence. How was it
possible that his entire body cried out for more of her soft flesh against his? With clothing between them, how was it he felt her hungry ardor burning through to ignite his? She might be naïve, but she aroused him far more than any pro. His lips would hunger for her innocent taste until she was in his arms again, and he could do all those forbidden, carnal things he dreamed of, flesh to flesh. For the moment, he still had his vampire senses, but even when human, he’d never forget the heady aroma of her arousal as he heated her blood for the first time, or the thundering of her heart as she pressed desperately into him. It was going to be a long semester apart.

  The ring of the doorbell jerked him from his erotic reverie, and he opened the door to a long line of sailors, delivering box after box of Humanité. Veronique kept her promise, arriving as the last box was stacked in his spare room.

  He opened and examined every one, and once he was satisfied, signed the documents Veronique flourished. With the approval of the responders, she slipped out of Matt’s life as quietly as she arrived, leaving behind more hope than he had in almost a hundred years.

  The Humanité was stellar, perfect. His mausoleum became merely a lonely abode for spiders, an empty shrine to his immortality. For the first time in decades, Matt enjoyed all the pleasures of being human, and he took full advantage of it. He slipped into a warm comfortable bed at midnight, rather than sunrise. He ate delicious food and drank beverages which didn’t exist before he’d been turned. He went to the beach every single day and soaked up the warming, healing rays of the sun. He splurged on every human activity save one, not that he didn’t have plenty of offers, but none of them was as valuable to him as Cat, and he wouldn’t betray her. He’d endure until she could satisfy that particular human craving herself. Until then, he had a great fantasy life.

  * * * *

  Matt listened patiently for almost an hour as Dr. Noah Bernstein, the head biochemist at Consort Group International’s pharmaceuticals branch, lectured him on the finer points of vampire biochemistry. Bernstein had been Matt’s first stop after the formula arrived. Not only was he a brilliant biochemist, he was also the master sadist at the Gaoler. Matt knew him well, since he’d been forced to sit through more than one demonstration of Bernstein’s “expertise” with the subs. It always left him with the urge to strangle the bastard with his own whip, notwithstanding Matt understood the women who agreed to scene with Bernstein actually wanted his kind of brutality. Matt found the gawky, hawkish, bespectacled guy objectionable on just about every level, but if he could do something to enhance the Humanité or make it permanent, Matt would buy him his very own solid gold paddle.

  “Are you coming to my demonstration of the violet wand tomorrow night?” Bernstein asked conversationally as they waited for the spectrum analyzer to give them a readout of the formula. Fun with electricity? Matt didn’t think so.

  “No, sorry. I’ll be busy tomorrow night.”

  Bernstein looked him up and down. “You know, now that you’re mostly human, you can stop your obsessive concern about hurting subs and just relax into your role as a Dom. A lot of girls at the club would love to spend some quality time with you.”

  Matt’s smile was brief. “I’m overwhelmed with work right now.” He really wanted to tell the guy to fuck off, but realized he could be antagonizing the man who controlled his destiny, so he softened his words. “It’s a little different being human these days. Gets tiring. Maybe later.”

  “To tell you the truth, Brenner,” Bernstein condescended, using his Dom persona, “I always thought your preoccupation with sub safety was…hyper-vigilant…at best. Take it from me, they’re not that fragile.”

  Matt turned a cold gaze on the man and assumed a stance leaving no doubt Matt could and would kick his ass, vampire or not. “Since you’ve never been a vampire, and never had to resist breaking a puny human in half, I’m going to suggest you fuck off the subject. Are we clear?”

  “Uh…sure.” The big, bad sadist backed down without further questions.

  “Good.” Matt smiled tightly. “Now, you think this Humanité is something you can work with? Can you make it longer lasting or even permanent?”

  The machine’s buzzer sounded, and Bernstein studied the print out. “All the ingredients she used are pretty attainable. Everything, except this one.” He pointed to the readout. “Betulina barosma, commonly called buchu.”

  “What’s so special about it? You can get it, right?”

  Bernstein nodded. “With time. It’s heavily protected by the South African government, so Consort Group will have to use its contacts and probably grease several palms.”

  “If money’s an issue…” Matt began with the intention of offering his own.

  “Not really, it’s more an issue with conservationists. We’ll just have to convince them we’re after it for a good cause. Actually, what we should do is find a sample somewhere other than South Africa, and cultivate it away from prying eyes. We’ll research that possibility.”

  “And the duration? Can you make it last longer?”

  Bernstein nodded slowly. “I don’t see why not. We’ll investigate some enteric coatings, some stabilizers; we should at least get a formula that will last years instead of months. Permanent? I don’t know yet, but I’ll work on it.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. And, Noah,” Bernstein looked up from his computer, “your discretion, time and accuracy will be well rewarded. Anything else…” Matt left the threat unspoken, but his stare was direct, and he didn’t have to be a vampire to know Bernstein’s compulsive swallowing meant he got the message.

  Chapter 9

  “See you then,” Cat agreed and then clicked off the call.

  This time tomorrow, she might well be with Matt, by the end of the week at the latest. It all depended on how quickly the trial went to the jury. He sounded so wonderful just now on the phone, apologizing for not being able to meet her at the airport. If it hadn’t been for the District Attorney not wanting them to be seen together before they each testified, he would be there to greet her, no matter what was going on.

  She toyed with her carry-on bag, so nervous she scarcely knew how to contain herself. Maria’s trial, which started tomorrow, would be stressful, and she was certainly not looking forward to the drama, though she was determined to see Maria’s killer put away. No, the real test would be an honest to God renewal of her relationship with Matt. In a way, a whole new relationship. Now that he was, at least temporarily human, what would happen between the two of them?

  What would happen to her? Things had gone well for Cat in New York. She’d finished her semester at Columbia, and in a few weeks would graduate with honors. That was a nice feather in her cap, but that and five bucks would get her a tall latte and that’s it. She was working on a novel, one with an immortal hero, though not a vampire. Writing took time, and publishing took even longer. She needed a job. She was somewhat reassured by Rick’s invitation to check out any of the companies that struck her fancy in the Consort Group. Still, what if the job she wanted and the man she wanted were in two different parts of the world? And what if, after he really got to know her, the man didn’t want her, after all?

  Not seeing Matt for almost three months seemed like forever to Cat, though she had to admit she probably learned more about him through their daily phone calls where the possibility of sex was non-existent. If they’d been together physically, well, they wouldn’t have been talking. Sex was the elephant in the room. She had never really had a boyfriend, never had sex. And Matt, she supposed he knew everything there was to know about it. Could a relationship that unbalanced survive?

  There were no vampiric barriers between them now, and she was terrified somehow she would screw up a human relationship. What in the world did she know about making any kind of relationship last? What example of family life had she ever seen? How did a mostly inexperienced twenty-one-year-old woman forge a lasting relationship with a one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old ex-vampire?

  Her flight was ca
lled and Cat took a deep breath. She would be with him again soon. She’d thought it over carefully, and she wanted him, vampire or human. Matt Brenner was the man who filled her every fantasy, and she wanted him. She hoped, over time, he would still want her.

  * * * *

  Matt strode from the Gaoler to talk with Jonesy and make sure everything for Cat’s homecoming had been arranged.

  “Mr. Brenner’s office.” Jonesy handled a call and looked up at him as she cradled the phone. “Oh, hi, boss. What’s shakin’?”

  Matt grinned. Jonesy was a woman fascinated by life in the twenties, and she was determined to live there as much as the modern world allowed. Her decorating efforts resulted in his Sam Spade-era private offices.

  “Hey, kid. I just got off the phone with my girl. You got everything ready the way I ordered?”

  “Oh, yeah. The cleaning company came in, got everything spit…spot. Food’s in the fridge. Car’s washed and gassed up. A dozen red roses are in a big crystal vase in her kitchen. I sure hope she’s not allergic.”

  “You’re the best, Jonesy.”

  “And you’re a romantic, boss. I never would have guessed it. Wish I was the lucky girl!”

  “Yeah, well, she may be taking on more of a challenge than you think. I appreciate the thought.” He sighed. “I’m stuck with the suits until Rick can take over tomorrow. I get what a lucrative deal this is, but… You have everything arranged, right? It’s crucial.”

  “Sure thing, boss. Rick gets back from Tokyo tomorrow morning. He’ll be in the office at noon, then you’re off until whenever. I know you have that trial thing first.”

  “Yeah. Good to know he’s taking over. Cat wouldn’t hear of me leaving under the circumstances. Damn, I wanted to be there to pick her up at the airport.”

 

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