Crave

by Karen E. Taylor

  “I’m sure Victor will take care of that.”

  “No problem,” Victor’s voice called out from the cockpit. “We’re cleared for landing. Anyway, there’s more time than that, you forgot to set your watch back. Here we are.”

  The plane touched down, and when it finally slowed to a stop, a familiar figure emerged from the cockpit and walked up to us. Mitch’s face twisted into a jealous grimace, but I found to my surprise that I was happy to see him. “Hello, Ron,” I said warmly. “Victor never mentioned that you were here.” Ron had acted once as a spy for the Cadre, reporting on my activities, but he had also been a good friend to me during a time when I felt I had no other.

  Ron smiled. “Well, someone had to fly the plane and Victor needed to talk to you.” He gave Mitch a quick, furtive glance, then put his arms around me briefly and kissed my cheek, dropping back a respectful distance after he had finished. “Welcome back, Deirdre, it’s nice to see you.”

  “Thank you, Ron.”

  Ron held out his hand to Mitch. “Hello, Greer,” he said brusquely. “Forgive me if I skip the kiss.”

  Mitch shook his hand warily. “Fine by me.”

  “Now, let me unload your luggage and we’ll be on our way. There’s a limo waiting.”

  Mitch draped his arm around my shoulder and we walked to the door of the plane. Victor stood waiting for us, and opened the hatch. A set of stairs had been wheeled over and we exited into a clear, starlit night. When we got to the tarmac, Mitch put his head up, took a long whiff of the air and smiled. “It’s nice to be home,” he said, with a note of contentment in his voice that I hadn’t heard in months. “I missed this dirty old city.”

  “I have prepared a room for you in the Cadre headquarters.” Victor turned around from the front seat of the limousine. “You need not stay there for the duration of your mission, but I thought it would be easiest until you had a chance to make your own arrangements. From what I understand, Mitch, your son has moved into your apartment.”

  Mitch nodded. “Yeah, he called and told me. How did you know?”

  Victor shrugged. “Very little escapes my notice when it concerns the security of the Cadre. Not knowing how much he knows about us, it seemed a good idea to keep an eye on him, now and then. He knows of your transformation, doesn’t he?”

  “No.” Mitch’s face darkened slightly. “Actually, I haven’t broken the news to him yet.”

  “Ah, well,” Victor said, “you’ll have plenty of time for that later on.”

  Mitch gave a noncommittal nod and looked out the window. I held his arm and rubbed my head against his shoulder. The upcoming confrontation between Mitch and his son had me worried. Chris had a difficult enough time coming to terms with what I was. I suspected that learning what his father had become would result in his permanent alienation from the two of us. Mitch reached over and stroked my thigh gently. “It’ll be okay,” he said, his voice a reassuring whisper. “He’ll get used to the idea, sooner or later.”

  Before too long, the limousine pulled up to the back entrance of the Imperial, the restaurant that Victor owned. Below, were the offices and the living quarters of the Cadre. We took the elevator down and entered into the meeting hall where the organization had stood in judgment of me, for the murder of Max Hunter. The room was dark now, we moved through it quickly and proceeded down a dimly lit hallway. Victor stopped in front of one of the closed doors, removed a key from his pocket and handed it to Mitch. While Mitch unlocked the door, Victor explained, “This was Max’s room. I hope you don’t mind, it was the only vacant one currently available. His personal effects have been removed, of course, and put in storage for your use at a later date. But we have tried to ensure your every comfort during your stay here.”

  We started into the room and Victor continued, looking somehow embarrassed. “I hope you understand that you both are considered honored guests of the Cadre, so no payment for any of this is necessary. However, should you choose at some point to make this one of your permanent residences, and I sincerely hope that you will, arrangements will be made at that time.”

  “Thank you, Victor,” I started, “but . . .”

  “No, no, you don’t need to decide anything now. You are most welcome here and your entrance into our community would be for the common good of us all. But we will not press you on the issue; you are free to stay or go. Make yourselves at home, please. And, if I don’t see you before dawn, have a pleasant day’s sleep.”

  He left us and I looked around the room that had been Max’s. It was pleasant enough, but dark and sparsely furnished. The furniture was mostly antique, the bed an enormous four poster covered in a red brocade spread. But what caught my eye first was the heavy brass stand, holding a familiar artifact. Victor had indeed tried to see to my every comfort, for he had procured the coffin that Max had bought for me. Mitch was standing over it, shaking his head. Then he looked at me and laughed. “Don’t I get one, too?”

  “You can have that one, my love. You know I’ll never use it.” I smiled at him. Now that we were alone, I felt at ease again, as if my moments of fear and doubt had never occurred, as if his presence in my life was all I ever needed. The qualities of strength and integrity that I had admired in him had only intensified after his transformation. Victor was right; I had done well.

  “But I want my own,” his eyes danced mischievously, “I wouldn’t want to break from the mysterious image of the vampire. We need to keep up with the others, you know, follow the crowd.”

  “You are so far above the others, Mitch, I do not think you need to worry.” I walked over to him and put my arms around him.

  He hugged me tightly to him. “Still, I wonder that Victor didn’t take care of it, along with everything else.”

  “He didn’t know about you, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. But it sure is nice to know he’s not as omniscient as he thinks.” He moved away from me, and sat down on the bed, testing the mattress. “I guess I was supposed to sleep in this big bed, all by myself, while you slept in your box.” He stretched out on the surface, sighed, then lifted his head. “Well, aren’t you going to get into that thing?”

  “I’m not tired.” I stared at him for a while and a slow smile grew on my lips. I unbuttoned my coat and tossed it on a chair next to me. Crossing to the bed, I straddled Mitch’s hips with my legs and kissed him on the nose. “Besides,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper, “I want to try out the bed first.”

  His eyes shone with a familiar intensity. “Right here?” he asked, “with the entire Cadre surrounding us?”

  “The Cadre be damned.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Mrs. Greer.” He pulled me down on top of him and rolled us both over. His cool mouth brushed mine, then traveled to my neck, taking small playful nips. I shivered at the sensation and he laughed in delight. “I wonder,” Mitch whispered against my neck and I could feel his sharpened teeth graze the skin, “how it would feel to drink from you while you drank from me as we made love?” He paused briefly and his breath was warm, enticing. “Shall we find out?”

  I did not need to say anything; he could surely feel the response building in my body as I arched my back and pressed up against him. My gums tingled with the growth of my canines and although I had just fed, an overwhelming hunger washed over me. I had only one thought before the instincts took full grasp of me: I need never again struggle to hold back my passion. My hunger and appetite could no longer threaten the life of this man.

  That he was technically not a man now, but a different creature, a vampire, did not enter my mind. He was Mitch and I loved him. He eased himself from me slightly and his hands traveled down my body, touching and undressing me until I finally lay naked underneath him. The texture of his bulky sweater and the hard coarseness of the jeans he still wore pressed against my bare skin nearly driving me crazy with my need. I reached up and roughly grabbed fistfuls of his sweater, impatiently pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor. I ran my nails up
his back and he stared down at me, not moving, his eyes so blue and intense that I felt bathed in their light. Then their expression changed so suddenly and he jumped up from me so abruptly that I felt I had been dropped off a steep cliff.

  “Cover yourself,” he growled, “there’s someone outside the door.”

  Chapter 4

  Mitch did not bother to put his sweater back on; he bounded across the room and flung the door open with an incoherent snarl.

  “Well, hello, you must be Mitchell Greer.” I instantly recognized the voice, high-pitched, but with a slight lisp and a reverberating huskiness that almost caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise. Wrapping the red brocade spread around me, I slid off the bed and went to stand next to Mitch.

  “Vivienne,” I said, my tone wary and cautious, “it is good to see you again.”

  Her eyes raked over me, mocking, yet caressing and she pulled me to her briefly and kissed my cheek. “But of course, when I hear my sister has returned, I wanted to give her a welcome.”

  I introduced them. “Mitch, this is Vivienne. I don’t believe you met her last time we were here.”

  “Sister?” Mitch questioned, not taking his eyes from her. “Deirdre is an only child.”

  Vivienne threw her head back and laughed her light metallic laugh. “I know that’s how she would wish it, but sisters we are nevertheless. And,” her eyes focused on Mitch’s bare torso, “I couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet my new brother-in-law. But I have interrupted a ménage à deux, haven’t I? I was so anxious to see you both, that I hadn’t thought you might be otherwise involved. Please forgive me.”

  Vivienne headed for the door, then turned with her hand on the knob. “One other thing, mon chers, the days are long here and the corridors are completely safe from sunlight, so after your, ah, sleep, you may wander around as much as you like. And should you wish to join me for a glass of wine, I’d be happy to have you both. Good day.” Opening the door, she walked out with a slow, sensuous stride. I reached over, closed and locked the door, then looked at Mitch.

  “You can stop drooling now, Mitch.” I was only half joking. Vivienne was equipped with more magnetism than should be permissible and even I, who knew her for what she was and could never trust her, felt the effect of the utter sensuality she exuded. Mitch hadn’t any previous experience with another female of our kind and I feared his response to her.

  His face lit up with a boyish smile as his eyes searched mine. “Why, Mrs. Greer,” he drawled, enjoying the moment immensely, “I do believe you’re jealous.”

  “Now, why would I be . . . ?” I started, then returned his grin with a smile of my own. “Yes, you’re right. I am jealous.”

  “Good.” His smile faded with that one word.

  “Good?”

  “Yeah, it almost makes up for all the other men in your life.”

  “Mitch, my love, there’s never been anyone else since we met. You know that.”

  He frowned. “Except of course for all the men you had in England while I was institutionalized.”

  “Mitch, that’s just plain cruel. I was not talking of food; I was talking of love. Surely you know the difference by now.”

  “I try, Deirdre.”

  I reached out and touched his cheek gently. “Yes, you do. And you are getting better. Now, speaking of love . . .” Dropping the spread I had wrapped around me, I grabbed the waistband of his jeans and pulled him to me.

  “And food.” His voice was warm and husky against my hair.

  “And food,” I agreed. “I believe you made quite an interesting proposition before we were interrupted.”

  “So I did,” Mitch said and pulled me down to the floor with him. Rolling on top of me, he hesitated. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “As if you could.”

  Mitch’s eyes lit with passion. He eased his jeans off and lay on top of me for a while, not moving. Then he began to nuzzle the side of my neck, gently at first with just his lips and tongue. His mouth traveled to my breasts, teasing each nipple with his front teeth, but not using his sharpening canines, not yet. I gasped when he reached between my legs, probing and stroking until I felt ready to melt. Time seemed suspended as he continued his ministrations, touching, licking, nipping.

  Finally, not wanting to wait for him any longer, I reached down, guiding him inside me. And as he plunged deep within me, his mouth came down on my neck, his bite punctured my skin and I screamed, past caring about where I was and who might hear. He continued thrusting into me and I felt the blood rushing through my veins to answer his kiss. My own teeth sharpened and found his neck, pulling his blood into my mouth, savoring the rich and salty taste that was his alone.

  The only sound in the room was our muffled sucking and the slapping of our sweaty bodies together. We continued for a long time, an eternity it seemed, making love and drinking from each other, constantly stoking our passion, continually renewing our strength. Then he withdrew his mouth from my neck and I did the same. He kissed me. The taste of my blood on his tongue was intriguing, enticing and I shuddered over and over as our bodies reached their endless climaxes.

  When it was over, he rolled from me with a sigh. “You know,” he said, finally, his voice low and breathless, “that has got to be against the law.”

  My laugh was shaky. “Yes, but we are, after all, consenting adults.”

  “Even so.”

  I snuggled into his side and he rested his hand lightly against my hip.

  “I hope we didn’t disturb the rest of the Cadre.” He sounded smug and unconcerned.

  “Like hell you do. You wouldn’t have wanted Vivienne to miss out on what a great catch you are.”

  “Deirdre,” he slapped me playfully on the thigh, “I like you like this.”

  “Like what? All sweaty and sticky?”

  “No, jealous. It makes me feel wanted.”

  I gave him a little push, got up from the floor and stared down at him. “You should never have any doubt about that. But for now, I need a shower. Would you like to join me?”

  “Hot water?”

  I remembered the one shower we had taken while he was still human. The temperature of the water had been extremely uncomfortable for him. But it was not so now. I smiled at him, “Boiling, of course.”

  “Great.”

  We slept undisturbed until early the following evening. Mitch woke first and by the time I opened my eyes, he was already completely dressed, sitting on the side of the bed. “Good morning,” he said and kissed the end of my nose. “Did you sleep well?”

  I stretched slightly and yawned. “Yes, actually, I did.” I gave a little smug smile. “The plane trip really tired me out.”

  “Only the plane trip, huh? Well, if that’s what it takes to get you a good day’s sleep, I guess we’ll have to fly every night.”

  “Fine by me.”

  He reached toward me, then over me, and picked up the phone from the bedside stand. I gave him a questioning look.

  “I’m calling Chris,” he said, his expression changing to worry, “I thought he’d want to know we were in town.”

  “That’s a good idea, tell him I said hello.” I got up from bed, went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me, allowing him as much privacy as was possible. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and hair, and inserted a pair of contact lenses. When I came back out, Mitch was unpacking his suitcase, hanging up what little he had brought with him in an ornate carved armoire. He stopped and looked over at me.

  “Chris wasn’t home. I left a message and this number. Do you think that’ll be okay?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows? But I’m sure if it’s not, someone will let us know.” I went to my own case, opened it, and pulling out some underwear, my black leather jeans and an ivory tunic sweater, began to get dressed.

  “Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the entire setup here was wired, phones and all, with Victor being so extremely security conscious.”


  “That may be true, but you can’t really blame him. He takes his responsibility for the Cadre very seriously.” I glanced over at him while I zipped up my pants. “The same way you would, if the job were yours. The two of you are very similar.”

  Mitch threw his head back and laughed. “That’ll be the day—Mitchell Greer, the grand-exalted Pooh-Bah of the Cadre.”

  “You never know, my love. Another couple of centuries and the position might be open.”

  “I doubt it,” Mitch said, “Victor’s just too damned pompous to die.”

  I shivered at his words. “Please don’t talk about it. I just barely survived the death of Max with my sanity intact. God knows what would happen if Victor . . .” Suddenly, I wanted to weep. I sat down on the edge of the bed, curled my legs underneath me and put my hands over my face. I felt him move to me and stand by my side. Gently, he laid his hand on my shoulder.

  “What’s wrong, Deirdre?”

  Shaking my head slightly, I moved my hands down my face and clasped them together under my chin, as if in prayer. Then I looked down at them, flexed my fingers and dropped them in my lap. “I don’t know, Mitch. Maybe it’s just the atmosphere here—it’s so confining, so old. Maybe it’s being called back here and being coerced into killing another vampire. Damn it all, I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to see Larry Martin ever again, and when I do, I have no real desire to kill him.” I jumped up from the bed and paced around the room, searching for something, I didn’t know what. “I need a window, I need to see outside. I’d go crazy if I had to live here for long.”

  He stood, staring at me for a while. “Well, maybe you can’t kill him, but I can.”

  “I don’t want him dead.” The desperation in my voice filled the room.

  “How can you say that, Deirdre? I guess that after all he’s done, you’d just like to invite him over for a drink. How could you have any sympathy for him at all? You should hate him. Have you forgotten what he did to Gwen, what he tried to do to you, what he did to me?” Anger crept into his voice, overlaying the concern for me and the confusion caused by my statement.