Cursed

by Rebecca Trynes

  She nodded in response and then had a thought. “If he’s not here, how’d you get in?”

  He said nothing and his blank expression didn’t change in the slightest.

  Okay, be mysterious why don’t you.

  “Did he give you his key?” she asked, looking into those familiar grey eyes and marvelling at the similarities.

  The hunk didn’t reply.

  He definitely had to be related to Jacob. The similarities were just too striking. He looked a year or two older than her best friend, so he had to be a long lost older brother, or maybe they were twins separated at birth? She was going to kill Jacob for not telling her about this!

  “How far behind is he?”

  Tall, Dark & Dangerous lifted his right shoulder in a careless shrug, and said, “Five minutes.”

  She laughed shortly and shook her head. “Not a man of many words, are you?”

  He continued to look at her, not moving at all, no expression crossing his face, his eyes the only thing that changed position as they tracked her as she took a few steps towards him. Okay, so he wasn’t a great conversationalist, she could accept that. There were many other things she could think of to do with a mouth like his.

  Man, that full bottom lip was a thing of beauty.

  If it hadn’t been for the obvious resemblance to her best friend, she probably would have shown a lot more caution towards him than she did. She probably would have put more effort into finding out why he was there, how he had gotten in, and why he wasn’t saying very much. If she had had any idea what was about to happen, she certainly wouldn’t have stuck her hand out for him to shake.

  Or maybe she would have?

  “Sienna. Hi. You are?”

  He looked down at her hand for a moment and then back up into her eyes.

  “I’m Jacob’s best friend,” she said, still holding her hand out, eager to feel his touch. “How long have you known him?”

  Nothing. This was getting just a bit ridiculous. Yes, the guy was sexy as hell, but it was like talking to a cardboard cut-out. If it hadn’t been for the watchful intelligence in his eyes, she would have thought him slow.

  She was just about to give up and drop her hand, when quicker than she could have ever imagined, his cool palm slapped onto her wrist and his long fingers wrapped around it firmly, holding it there.

  He has really nice hands, she noted as she looked down at the grip. Strong. Manly. Veiny. An image of those hands cupping her breasts had a shot of lust raising her core temperature a notch or two.

  Looking up into his eyes, she waited for him to make the next move.

  Instead of pulling her into his embrace like she fantasised that he would, his nostrils flared and he drew in a deep breath, his eyelids sliding closed over the light grey of his eyes like he’d caught the scent of something delicious. A small sigh escaped his lips and he shuddered.

  When his lids lifted a moment later, his eyes weren’t nearly as blankly emotionless as they had been a moment ago. Now they were full of something akin to eager lust. She would have been happy that they were on the same page if it hadn’t been for the fact that they were also now as black as night, the light grey of his irises almost completely taken over by the pupil. She was reminded of a cat she’d once owned, and how its pupils had expanded when it was about to go in for the kill. The mental reference was not lost on her.

  “You don’t smell like a pre-trans,” the Goth God said with a slight rasp. “In fact, you don’t smell like anything I’ve ever come across before.”

  Okay, not what she’d expected him to say. What the hell was a pre-trans?

  Man, his eyes were really black now and his expression really intense. It was starting to freak her out. But at the same time, really turning you on, a little voice in the corner of her mind said gleefully.

  It was true. Even though her heart was thudding in her chest from fear and adrenaline was rushing through her body as every little potential outcome of this situation flashed through her mind, there was still a part of her that was raging with lust over him.

  You sick puppy, she thought to herself as she took a step back. He followed along with her, his fingers digging into her wrist.

  “Your pulse is racing,” he said, his upper lip pulling back slightly as if in readiness for something, revealing some wickedly long incisors.

  Oh, no way. They hadn’t just been there a moment ago, had they? She thought she would have noticed something like that.

  Was he really a vampire or were they fake? She’d read about fake fangs before—how you could build them with a spring mechanism that you could trigger with your tongue—but why would anyone want fake vampire fangs? Sure, as a gimmick to wow your vampire-loving friends, but for everyday use? Maybe he just liked to scare gullible young women with them, or maybe he was some kind of serial killer who liked to rip out the throats of his victims in some tribute to vampires?

  But what about his pupils? How did someone make their pupils expand like that? Sure, drugs could do it, but she’d seen it happen and there hadn’t been a pill or injection in sight. He had seemed pretty damn quick in grabbing her wrist. Vampires had super-speed, didn’t they?

  But why would he attack her? Wasn’t he here because of Jacob? Was this going to be a crime of opportunity?

  All of these thoughts raced through her head as she continued to back away, with him following right along. Maybe if she just led him around the apartment by her wrist for the next few minutes, Jacob would return?

  And do what? How was he going to save her from a frickin’ vampire?

  “Are those real?” she asked, glancing at his fangs and then back up into his black eyes.

  He scraped the tip of his tongue along the point of a tooth and let the blood well on his tongue in answer. She swallowed hard. Even if they weren’t, they were sharp and that was real enough for her.

  “Are you going to bite me?” she asked, stalling for time, her eyes still on the red liquid seeping out of his tongue.

  I wonder what it tastes like.

  “Yes.”

  “And drink my blood?”

  “Yes.”

  Can you reciprocate afterwards?

  “Do you do that often?” she asked, instead.

  “Yes,” he replied, somewhat apologetically she thought, backing her into a wall.

  Dammit, she should have known that was there. This was her apartment, after all. She pressed herself into the cool plasterboard and realised, as he caged her there, that he actually wasn’t much taller than her 5’8”. He’d seemed taller, but maybe it was just his presence that made him seem that way. Still, she had no illusions that she could have pushed him away. He was solid muscle.

  And didn’t she know it. She had to curl her hands into fists as it was, just to keep her fingers from reaching out and touching the mounds of muscle on his chest. His body, mixed with the smell of leather and clean male, was an intoxicating mixture that had her good sense deserting her completely.

  TD&D was nose to nose with her now, his black eyes boring into hers. He breathed deeply and she felt the rush of air as it was pulled into his lungs.

  “Why do you smell so good?” he asked her, his voice and expression suddenly furious.

  “Ah, it’s my perfume?”

  He chuckled, not without malice, but even so, the sound rolled over and around her, heightening both her fear and her desire. She wanted him to kiss her, to press his body against hers, to put his hands on her breasts, to use those teeth in her skin.

  Funny, she’d never thought of herself as a masochist before; surely it would hurt to be bitten in the neck.

  “You’re shaking,” he said, his voice a mere whisper.

  She was. And breathing heavily too. Was it fear or desire? She couldn’t tell anymore. “Will it hurt?”

  “Only for a minute.”

  She held her breath as he moved, his cool cheek brushing against her flushed skin as he headed for her neck. She gasped when she felt the smooth warmth
of his tongue slide wetly over her jugular and shivered with pleasure. Curling her hands tighter, she pressed them hard against the wall and braced herself.

  * * *

  Greyvian was lost in a world where the need for blood and sex were twisted together so tightly the two were, for all intents and purposes, one and the same. At the moment, he was keeping them separated by sheer force of will. Otherwise, his hands would have been all over the woman who was shaking like a leaf and breathing raggedly. With the figure-hugging grey dress that she was wearing, he could well imagine the shape of her body, the softness of her skin, the firm swell of her breasts, the pliant mounds of her ass. His fingers twitched with the need to feel the silky waves of her dark brown hair, but he kept them plastered to the wall as if his arms were the only force supporting the structure. To go down that road would surely lead to disaster for the both of them. More so for her.

  But it wasn’t her attractiveness or her tight body that was at the root of the cause for his normally unshakeable calm deserting him. He’d met a lot of beautiful women in his time and not one of them had ever been more than an itch he needed to scratch. No, it wasn’t her appearance that had him going from cool as a cucumber and about as emotional to a moment away from losing it.

  It was the way she smelled.

  He couldn’t believe how intoxicating her scent was. He’d been catching faint traces of it around the apartment since he’d arrived, but it was nothing compared to the source. He hadn’t meant to go predatory on her, but one hint of the full-strength sweet chocolaty aroma she gave off had brought the beast inside of him roaring to life.

  Staring into her vibrant blue eyes, he realised that she didn’t seem particularly terrified. Alert, yes; aroused, definitely. It was almost as if she wanted him to bite her.

  Silly girl.

  Inhaling again, he breathed her into his lungs, his teeth aching with the need to pierce her flesh and release the crimson flow of liquid that teased him so. He knew it would be as sweet as she smelled, and vampires were nothing if not sweet toothed. But the tasting of her wouldn’t be enough. He would drain her dry and then she would be no more.

  “Why do you smell so good?” he asked, angry now that she had awakened his desire and caused him to lose control.

  “Ah, it’s my perfume,” she offered with a half-smile.

  An evil chuckle escaped his throat, surprising and angering him further.

  Damn her! If she hadn’t smelled so utterly intoxicating there wouldn’t have been a problem. Yes, he hadn’t fed in over a week and it was getting time that he needed to find someone, but he should have been a long way from reacting this uncontrollably.

  “You’re shaking,” he breathed, trying to delay the inevitable and wondering if she’d finally regained her senses enough to be afraid for her life.

  “Will it hurt?” she asked, bracing herself for the possibility.

  Maybe he should kill her. Just sink his fangs into her neck, drain her dry, and then sink back into the emotionless oblivion he had been living in for the past century.

  “Only for a minute,” he assured, giving in and committing himself to the tragedy.

  Running his tongue over the smooth flesh of her neck, he tasted just a hint of the sweetness he could smell in her veins. The woman shuddered but didn’t protest. He had to commend her for her bravery—or maybe he should be cursing her for her stupidity. She should be screaming and running for the door. But maybe it was better that she didn’t. The beast inside him loved a chase, and he didn’t want her to die terrified.

  The fact that he didn’t hear the door open was testimony to how far gone he was.

  “Heyyyy, Sienna. Are we interrupting?” an amused voice questioned.

  His head snapped towards the trio who had entered the apartment; a distant part of him recognised two of them as Knox and Lucas, but the beast within saw only a threat to its meal. As a deep growl erupted from his throat, he pressed into the female, protecting her with his body.

  Recognising the danger, Knox held his hands out to his companions and said in a gentle voice, “Easy, boys. Jacob, if that female means anything to you, I’d be really careful what you say and do right now.”

  “Another vampire?” the stranger asked, sounding somewhat resigned.

  “Yes.” In a much lower voice, so low Greyvian assumed Knox believed he couldn’t hear, the male cautioned, “But he’s dangerous to humans if you catch my drift.”

  Irritated by the comment, he struggled to reign in his lust and bring coherent thought back into his brain, but as the three eased further into the apartment, the closer they came, the harder it was. The beast inside was fighting him tooth and nail, and it was nigh impossible to make any headspace when his mind was full of aggression.

  “Back off,” he hissed, pressing the length of his body even closer to the female. He shuddered as his erection ground into her soft belly and had a strong urge to strip her naked and fuck her up against the wall, no matter who was watching.

  “Buddy, you’d better back the fuck off, you hear me?” The stranger—Jacob, if his fried brain remembered correctly—took another step closer. “If you hurt her, I will personally kick your ass.”

  Greyvian growled and huddled his body around the female protectively. Who was this male who thought he had any hope of keeping him from what was his?

  “Good job, Jacob. Way to listen,” Knox said dryly, sighing.

  Greyvian’s eyes finally focused enough on the stranger to realise that he could have been looking into a mirror on one of those days when he’d gone too long without feeding and the beast within had taken over and done a number on a victim—the blood on Jacob’s shirt perfectly adding to that picture. On any other occasion, he might have looked at the male with little emotion, but he wasn’t feeling himself just now, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Any lust he had been feeling prior to that moment withered and died in light of the shock, and his field of vision returned to normal; his eyes no doubt flashing from black to light grey once more.

  “What is your mother’s name?” he asked, his voice betraying his shock.

  The pre-trans was looking at him as if he’d only now realised that the two of them could have passed as twins and took a long moment to answer. When he did, he sounded a little faint himself. “Mary Fletcher. Why?”

  A face flashed in his mind’s eye: a brunette with large blue eyes and a shy smile; one of the more memorable itches that he’d scratched along the way, but still largely forgettable. Given that he was here because of the male, he figured it must have been just over twenty-five years ago now.

  “Where are my manners?” Knox interrupted, a sly smile on his face. “Greyvian Kobussen, meet Jacob Greyson.”

  “Are you supposed to be my long lost twin brother?” Jacob asked, not looking too thrilled with the concept.

  With his lust forgotten for the moment, Greyvian carefully composed himself and finally eased away from Sienna without looking at her, not wanting to tempt fate. Straightening to his full height, which was surprisingly shorter than Jacob’s possible six feet, he turned towards the male.

  “No,” he said, his tone of voice back to neutral, “I’m your father.”

  3

  When Jacob had finally relented and told Knox his address, the last thing he had imagined was coming home to find a Queen of the Damned, leather-clad male seconds away from mauling his best friend. Although, perhaps mauling wasn’t the right word. Penetrating? Yeah, that might be better suited to the situation. It would work for the erection that was slowly fading inside the guy’s leather pants, as well as the inch-long fangs that had been on display only a moment ago.

  At first, he hadn’t realised the guy could have passed for his Goth twin, but then the male’s expression had gone blank, his eyes had changed from black to grey, and it had been like looking at the photo on his driver’s licence where they told you not to smile and you had to look all serious and boring.

  But his father? He couldn’t
believe that.

  “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “You can’t be more than thirty.”

  Knox chuckled in amusement. “Vampire, remember? We don’t show our age.”

  Jacob made a face. “Oh, right.”

  Wondering how his life could have turned upside down in a matter of minutes, his eyes drifted over to Sienna. She looked a bit like a wilted flower. Her shoulders were hunched and her back was pressed against the wall like it was the only thing holding her up. She didn’t look hurt in any way, just severely disappointed and a bit forlorn as she stared at the profile of the guy who’d almost eaten her for lunch. She didn’t even seem to notice that there was anyone else in the room.

  What the hell? Was she seriously attracted to the guy? How was that possible? He could have been Jacob’s evil twin, and she’d never felt anything but platonic for him. He had a sudden vision of the hard-on the guy had been sporting only moments ago and remembered the way Sienna had seemed completely on board with whatever the guy had been about to do.

  Chemistry, he supposed, was everything.

  Maybe if he’d come at her with a raging hard-on, things would have been different between them. But then, he’d have to have been capable of feeling that kind of desire for her in the first place and he just couldn’t seem to drum up that kind of passion for someone he thought of as a sister—at least, being an orphan, how he imagined someone with a sister would feel about their sister.

  Still, walking in on your best friend looking to get down with someone who could be your twin was a bit of a blow to the ego. Especially when said twin actually turned out to be your father.

  Was it really possible? Could this guy—Greyvian Kobussen—really be his father? (What the hell kind of name was that anyway? Russian?) If only his mother were still alive. Surely she’d be able to confirm or deny it. If she didn’t completely freak out first that her ex-lover was a vampire. Or had she known at the time? Had she told the guy she was pregnant? Or had it just been a one-night stand? Had she even known his name? Although, judging by the surname she’d given him, Greyson, he supposed she had.