Twice Tempted

by Jeaniene Frost

  “You’re different now, too,” I said in wonder.

  His mouth curled; half mocking, half amused.

  “You’re a vampire. You see details humans are blind to, sense powers they don’t understand, and feel emotions more strongly than they can even imagine.”

  Then he grasped my hair, using it to pull my head back before lowering his mouth.

  “Now feel this,” he muttered.

  The rough caress of his stubble and sensual suppleness of his lips paled next to emotions blasting across my subconscious. Lust tore through me like a flash fire, almost dropping me to my knees. It burned my nerve endings as thoroughly as the hunger had, but not with pain. Instead, I was overwhelmed with a need to dominate by pleasure until rapturous screams rang in my ears, and to do it right now.

  My mouth opened, tongue tangling with his while I grasped his shirt. It fell apart in my hands as easily as wet paper, and then his heat made me gasp when he yanked me to him. He’d always been warm, but now he felt like flame encased in flesh. He ripped off my dress, bra, and panties just as ruthlessly as I’d destroyed his shirt before flinging me onto the nearby mattress.

  I moaned when his body covered mine, shocked at how different this also was. Every brush of his skin heightened sensations that had me arching against him with primal demand. Each caress seemed to penetrate into hidden parts of me that were starved for his touch. Everything before faded to a colorless memory like the psychic glimpses I caught of the past. It was as though this was the first time we were making love, and when he pushed my thighs apart and his mouth descended between them, a flare of ecstasy made me scream.

  I don’t know how long I writhed against him, pleasure rending me asunder with every searing flick of his tongue. When he rose up and tore the front of his pants open, I was still shuddering from orgasm, but seeing that thick length of flesh swelled need in me all over again. I slid down, pulling him on top of me. Then my head fell back from the force of his kiss as his mouth claimed mine.

  His taste was sharper, saltier, and so explicitly carnal it made me ache where I was wet. His body was an inferno, and anticipation cut my emotions in a visceral swath when he reached down between us. I broke our kiss and bit his shoulder without thinking, shocked at how natural it felt. Pleasure rippled through me as I sank my fangs deeper. Whether it was mine or his, I didn’t know, and when he yanked my hips up to meet his thrust, I didn’t care.

  I stopped biting him to scream when his scorching flesh pushed inside me. Had it felt like this before? No, it couldn’t. I wouldn’t have been able to stand the exquisite clenching of my inner muscles when he ground against my clitoris after he could go no deeper. Or the bliss when his mouth closed over my throat and he bit down where my pulse would have been. Then he thrust forward, my throat still captured in his fangs, and the sense of being utterly dominated and yet never more powerful ripped away my inhibitions.

  I tore his mouth away, barely noticing the sting from his fangs as my skin tore. Then I wrapped my arms around him and bit him in the same spot. Pleasure overloaded my nerve endings from the connection to his feelings, driving me to a frenzy. He moved faster, deeper, his grip turning bruising, and I gloried in it, sinking my fangs into his neck to match every hard thrust. My nails ripped across his back, drawing a slickness that wasn’t sweat. Ecstasy grew along with an inner ache that demanded more without caring if it was too much. He was too hot, too big, too rough—and I’d die if he stopped.

  I tore my mouth away from his neck, gasping, “I love you so much,” right before another orgasm left me shaking from its intensity. Through half-slitted eyes I saw Vlad’s head was thrown back, streaks of crimson marring the sleek line of his throat. Then his head lowered and he stared at me while his searing hands stroked my face.

  “And I love you, my wife.”

  I didn’t have a chance to respond. He slid down, his mouth descending between my legs with passionate ferocity. I arched against him with a moan that was half rapture, half frustration. This felt incredible, but I wanted him inside me again—

  All thought cleared my mind when his fangs replaced his tongue, piercing my clitoris instead of licking it. White-hot pleasure blasted through me, making electricity shoot from my right hand. Smoke curled from the hole it drilled into the bed, but all I could do was clutch the sheets as he began to suck with long, deep pulls.

  His name left my throat in a strangled sob. Another strong suction had me shouting it, and then I couldn’t think enough to do that. All I could do was clutch him while wordless cries tore from me, and when he flipped me over after a final, mind-shattering suction, I couldn’t even move.

  He pulled my hips up, a deep thrust drawing another choked cry from me. My flesh throbbed and tingled, tightening around him convulsively as he withdrew. He lifted me, drawing me into his lap. Another arch of his hips cleaved him into me again. I gripped his thighs as I rocked back against him, feeling his burning lips on my neck when he drew my hair aside to kiss me there. Then there was nothing except the fierce rhythm that brought me to climax the instant before he reached his, and the shudders that shook us within and without.

  Chapter 37

  When Vlad let me go, I fell back against the mattress, not panting only because I didn’t need to breathe. I’d never smoked before, but if this cell had a cigarette, I would’ve lit up in salutary commemoration.

  Then my stomach clenched. My satiation vanished, replaced by hunger so intense that I began to shake.

  Vlad jerked me up, pushing me against the wall with one hand while the other punched numbers on a keypad I hadn’t noticed before. A drawer slid out of the stone surface, and one glance at what it contained made my mind go blank with need.

  The next few minutes were a whirling carousel of pain and relief. When my sanity returned, I was still against the wall, sucking at the remains of a plastic bag while Vlad watched.

  He held out his hand and I forced myself to relinquish the bag even though it had some luscious crimson streaks remaining. Still, I would not act like an animal a moment longer than necessary. He took it and the other cellophane remains at my feet, depositing them in the same slot the bags had come from.

  “How did you know?” I managed to ask calmly.

  A shrug. “It’s the same with all new vampires. Sex, anger, and violence will trigger your hunger. Until you can control it, you need to learn to anticipate it.”

  I glanced down. Blood splashed my front from how madly I’d torn at the plasma bags, making me look like an actress from a pornographic horror movie. I had several more days of mindless feeding frenzies ahead, but some things couldn’t wait for me to master my new hunger.

  I went over to the bed and wrapped the sheet around me. What I had to say was too serious to talk about while naked.

  “So you figured out Shrapnel was the traitor,” I began.

  A snort cut me off. “I didn’t think you cut him into pieces because he accidentally drove you off a cliff.”

  I held his gaze. “He was the only traitor in your house, but he wasn’t the only accomplice.”

  Vlad’s gaze turned bright green. “Explain.”

  “Sandra was passing messages—”

  I didn’t get to say anything else before Vlad whirled, pressing a part of the wall that looked no different from the rest, yet a door suddenly appeared.

  “Waters,” he barked into the open space. “Secure Sandra immediately.”

  Don’t, I mentally yelled. It’s not her fault!

  He didn’t reply. Right, he couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore. I’d put that and spectacular sex in the plus column of being a vampire.

  “She didn’t know,” I said out loud. “Shrapnel mesmerized her into doing it. I saw it when I touched her.”

  He turned, his expression no less foreboding, but he did add, “Secure her gently, Waters,” before closing it by pressing another indistinguishable panel.

  “What else did you see?”

  I couldn’t tell if his displ
easure curling into my emotions was due to Shrapnel’s actions or mine.

  “First promise me you’re not going hurt Sandra.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. With his muscular build and the blood spattered on him from my rabid feedings, he couldn’t have looked more menacing, but I refused to back down.

  “Promise me,” I repeated.

  “I do have other ways to find out,” he said silkily.

  I let out a grim snort. “Why do you think I went behind your back? I’m well aware of your ‘ways’ for getting information. That’s why I wasn’t going to subject my friend to them if she’d done nothing wrong.”

  His mouth tightened while echoes of his anger slashed my emotions, yet that wasn’t all. As poignant as a bittersweet memory, regret floated into my subconscious. Losing my mortality was my fault, but I realized Vlad blamed himself, too.

  Then he pressed the wall and that hidden door appeared again.

  “Well, go on,” he said with a sweep of his hand.

  I looked at the open entry suspiciously. “Aren’t I supposed to be in lockdown because I’m a bloodthirsty menace right now?”

  “Yes, but you’re coming with me to see for yourself that Sandra won’t be harmed, as long as she didn’t knowingly betray me. Unless, of course”—a sharklike grin—“you end up ripping her throat out yourself.”

  I hadn’t expected to return to the dungeon so soon, yet after showering, getting dressed, going into another feeding frenzy, showering and redressing again, here I was. When we entered the first chamber of the dungeon, the stench made me recoil. It smelled like someone had mixed together kerosene, rotten fruit, stale blood, urine, and dog shit, then blown it up. How had I not noticed this before? I wasn’t even breathing, but the rancid odor found its way into my nose anyway.

  “This place stinks.”

  “Did the guards forget to spray Febreze?” Vlad asked in mock indignation. Then he gave me a jaded look. “It’s a dungeon, Leila. They’re supposed to smell.”

  Mission accomplished. The stench might have actually killed my new appetite. If Hell could fart, it would smell like this.

  “Leila!”

  I turned toward Sandra’s voice. She wasn’t restrained to the large stone monolith, to my relief. Instead, she was huddled on the floor, her expression so stricken it was clear she thought she’d never leave this place. As soon as she saw me, she lunged toward me.

  “Please, tell them there has been a mistake!”

  One of the guards appeared out of nowhere, catching her before she reached me. Good thing, too. She’d also showered and changed clothes since the accident, but I could smell dried blood from her scratches, scabs, and the stitched wound in her head even above the horrid stink. Fangs pressed against my gums.

  You just ate, I reminded myself, and Sandra is NOT dessert.

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “Vlad just needs to peel back your memories on a few things.”

  We were doing that here because he wanted Shrapnel to witness the exposure of his betrayal and there was only one place he was staying. Despite the challenge to my control, I wasn’t leaving until Vlad was finished probing Sandra’s mind. I was the only ally she had, and the dungeon was terrifying enough without having a friend at your side. Vlad might taunt me about ripping out Sandra’s throat, but he’d never let me do it.

  Besides, I also wanted to hear more about the brunette vampire Shrapnel had been getting it on with. Like why she’d been so determined to kill me, for starters.

  Of course, being down here meant coming face-to-face with Vlad’s dark side, and he wasted no time in letting it out.

  “Take him down,” he said, pointing at Shrapnel.

  Three vampires again appeared like ninjas, but as they removed the many manacles binding Shrapnel to the stone wall, their movements no longer appeared blurringly fast. Before the last silver chain fell, Vlad picked up a lengthy wooden pole and rammed it the long way through Shrapnel’s midsection.

  Sandra gasped. I tried not to notice how her heart rate sped up as if trying to catch my attention. Surreptitiously, I squeezed the plasma bag I’d tucked into my jacket. If I felt a hunger stab, I’d rip into that instead, giving the guards more time to protect Sandra. How was that for anticipating?

  Vlad carried Shrapnel over to one of the holes in the stone, dropping the end of the pole in as casually as putting a flower in a vase. Through it all, Shrapnel let out several harsh grunts, but that was it. His fortitude was impressive, but the stronger he was, the more he’d endure while Vlad sought to discover who he’d betrayed him to and why. Shrapnel had tried to kill me twice, yet I still couldn’t help but pity him.

  A sniffle directed my attention back to Sandra. Her head hung low, long reddish-gold hair shielding her expression.

  “I did something awful, didn’t I?” she whispered. “I don’t remember it, but when you touched me in the car, I felt it.”

  I wanted to pat her consolingly but her pulse was already starting to sound like a dinner bell, so I didn’t trust myself to get any closer.

  “Vlad’s not angry at you,” I said in my most reassuring voice. “In fact, you’re going to help us find the other person who forced you to betray him, and then we’re going to stop her.”

  Vlad’s brow arched.

  “Her?”

  “Her,” I repeated, glancing up at Shrapnel. “And apparently, she’s a spell caster.”

  Chapter 38

  Shrapnel stared at me and his obsidian gaze became sprinkled with green.

  “You lied to me. You don’t know who she is.”

  He sounded more surprised than angry, not that he’d have any reason to point fingers on the subject of dishonesty.

  “We don’t know yet, but we’re about to,” I replied coolly.

  With Shrapnel now getting a bird’s-eye view, Vlad strode over to Sandra.

  “If you were aware of none of your actions because they altered your memory, I will hold you blameless.”

  Conditional words of comfort, but they worked. Sandra knelt on one knee and bowed her head.

  “You took me from the streets after my parents abandoned me. Gave me a home, an education, and the promise of a better future. I would never knowingly betray you.”

  Vlad’s mouth curled sardonically as he cast a look up at Shrapnel. “Then you would be more faithful than two of my closest friends turned out to be.”

  At those words, a stinging mixture of anger and pain threaded into my emotions. I winced, reminded that Shrapnel’s actions were more than a vampire going against his sire. A knife in the back hurt so much worse when it came from a friend.

  Sandra rose and brushed her hair aside. “Lasă-mă să-ți dovedesc, prinţul meu!”

  Vlad grasped her neck and lowered his mouth. As he bit her, something rose in me I didn’t expect. Not hunger, though the fresh scent of blood made my own fangs spring out. Not concern for Sandra losing more blood since she was already in rough shape. Instead, I had an overwhelming urge to rip her out of Vlad’s arms and then lash her with a sizzling electrical whip until nothing remained but ragged pieces.

  I was jealous. How absurd. He was a vampire, she was a human who’d had her mind altered, and the best way to get around that was to take her blood before mesmerizing her. I knew that, but it didn’t stop the surge of emotions that made sparks fall from my hand.

  His mouth on her. Her head falling back in a way that didn’t denote pain. The line of his throat as he swallowed . . .

  A bolt torpedoed into the rock floor beneath my hand. Turning into a vampire hadn’t dulled my inner electricity a bit. At once, I covered the crack with my foot, as if that would stop anyone from noticing.

  Vlad lifted his head, his gaze going unerringly to the spot before he looked at me. I expected an eye roll for my display of irrational jealousy, but instead, he looked thoughtful.

  Then he released Sandra, dabbing the puncture wounds in her neck with his thumb after he pierced it with a fang. I tried to r
ein in my emotions—and the currents that kept my hand sparking—while mentally singing Sting’s “Every Breath You Take.” Life-and-death stakes going on, Leila. Get your priorities straight.

  “He came into her room to mesmerize her,” I said, in case that detail helped.

  Vlad’s eyes turned green as he stared at Sandra like she was the only person in the room.

  “Shrapnel came into your room,” he repeated, his voice resonant. “He wanted you to pass along a message. What was it?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Yes you do.”

  The air crackled, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end. An invisible wave seemed to roll off Vlad, filling the room with enough energy to make my skin crawl. What was he doing?

  “You can see him in your room,” Vlad continued in that same vibrating tone. “Hear his voice even now. What is he saying?”

  “He says”—her face tightened as if straining to hear a far-off whisper—“tell her that her powers are back. She almost died using them, but Vlad revived her and now he won’t leave her side. I will attempt tainting her food if she wakes up.”

  I swung an accusing look Shrapnel’s way. While I was in a coma, he was planning to poison me?

  Rage brushed my emotions but Vlad said nothing and he didn’t glance away from Sandra.

  “That wasn’t his only message. What else?”

  In the monotone I’d come to associate with people under a vampire’s influence, Sandra recounted Shrapnel telling his accomplice all the details of my abilities, my location at the carnival, and my location at the hotel with Maximus. He even stated that Maximus would need to be neutralized by extreme measures. The liquid silver bullets flashed across my mind. It didn’t get much more extreme than that.

  When Vlad ordered Sandra to repeat the woman’s messages, they started off as benign inquiries about me that seemed more curious than threatening. That changed after the carnival bombing. Once her real intentions were exposed, it wasn’t a surprise that subsequent messages consisted of variations of Kill Leila. Kill her now. While my anger grew, most of this we already knew, and I didn’t need to feel Vlad’s emotions to know he was frustrated by that, too.