More Than Blood

by Amanda Vyne

  The tingling in her gums began again, and she ran her tongue over her lengthening canines experimentally. Before meeting Gabe she never knew she had fangs, or functioning ones, at least. Now all she had to do was think of him and they extended. His flesh would be warm and salty against her mouth, the beat of his heart pulsing strongly beneath her tongue. What would it feel like to let the thick essence of him slide down her throat, to pull him deep into her body?

  Kel nearly groaned as that throb between her legs intensified. Anytime she thought of blooding him she always imagined his big, smooth body moving over her, his breathy groans sounding against her ear as he pounded into her and she drank deeply from him.

  Oh God. Was she masochistic? Why was she doing this to herself?

  “When this meeting is over, we can stop for food. I feel your hunger again.”

  You don’t know the half of it.

  Kel smiled tightly, and her laugh sounded forced as she darted a panicked look over her shoulder at him. “You know me, always hungry.”

  She turned the last corner and hit the doors with the heel of her hand a bit harder than she initially intended, but that was okay. She needed that little sting and the sharp sound of the door slamming against the wall from the force of her hand. It focused her as she stepped into the main office that housed all the agents on a central floor. Even though it was late, there were still a couple agents hard at work at their desks.

  And her boss standing across the room, one dark brow cocked.

  Okay, that was a good motivator to get her to focus.

  “Agent Sheridan. It’s nice of you to finally check in. I trust you have progress to show for your absence.”

  “Yes, sir, I do,” Kel called back to him. Anger curled up in her from her connection to Gabe, and she quickly snapped up her arm to stop Gabe from walking around her to confront her boss. She knew he was irritated by the tone of voice her boss had used with her, but he couldn’t know that Kye Forestor didn’t have any other tones to use. That was it. Take it or leave it. “Back off, Tarzan; Jane’s got this one.”

  Gabe held back, though she could feel the amount of control it took. Comfortable that he wouldn’t pull that blade he was caressing with one hand, she strode across the floor.

  Another agent leaned his chair back into her path with a wicked smile. Before his mouth could even form around the words she knew were coming, she slapped the back of the chair with an open palm, sending it toppling all the way over. He hit the ground, feet in the air.

  “Shut up, Kling,” she snapped dryly as she continued on. She hadn’t seen most of the guys she worked with since that damn stakeout in the alley where she’d been discovered by the cleanup crew wrapped around Gabe. Had that only been two days ago? That old adage must be true, she thought with no little sarcasm, time did fly when you were having fun.

  “Evening, sir,” Kel greeted her boss. Kye Forestor was more than her boss. He’d picked her up out of the gutter, where every redeeming quality in her had been dying a slow, painful death, and gave her self-respect again. He’d taught her that physical strength wasn’t always the answer and instilled a sense of honor and integrity in her when the words were fading memories. He gave her a purpose. Hell, yeah, he was more than a boss to her. He was one of the few men she respected. “We just came from the lab.”

  Forestor’s pale eyes slid from Kel’s face to pin Gabe, his expression hard, the sharp angles of his face harsh.

  “So I heard. Luckily all we lost were doors,” Forestor said, his cold eyes still fixed on Gabe, who tensed up next to her. Kye could possibly be the most dangerous man she’d ever met, and she knew he was absolutely the strongest. His family was believed to be the oldest and strongest line of Guardians. They had once been the personal guard of the Matriarch, the most powerful and revered female of the Elementals. “Marshal Ferrar.”

  Gabe met Kye’s stare with a nod, saying nothing. He obviously didn’t like the threat that radiated from every orifice of her boss. His hands were caressing the handles of his blades again. That was one battle she did not want to see. Especially right now, maybe not ever.

  Kel stepped in front of Gabe. “We’d like to fill you in on what we have so far.”

  Forestor’s pale eyes flickered in surprise as they darted between Kel and Gabe, going over his bloodied shirt. His nostrils flared and his dark brows lowered before he gave a curt nod. “Meeting room one.”

  With a sigh, Kel followed him up the five stairs to the raised level open to the desks below that housed all the upper level managers and meeting rooms. Forestor opened a door and smoothly walked across the room to gaze out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. The lights had heat sensors and immediately came on as they entered.

  Kel pulled out a chair at the table and sat down, rolling her eyes when she realized that Gabe was going to continue to stand behind her. Hover over her was more like. Forestor turned around, cocking one of his dark brows when he noted the marshal’s position. If she didn’t already know that Kye didn’t have a sense of humor she might have thought he was amused.

  “Bring me up to speed.”

  “I believe we’re looking at a serial killer. The four previous disappearances occurred close to Marshal Ferrar’s House and no bodies were recovered. The fifth girl showed up in our city, the body bloodless and carelessly discarded without any attempt at ceremony.”

  “How do we know any of them are linked?” Forestor challenged.

  “We don’t, sir. But each of the girls has similar characteristics. All of them were of a specific age, most likely in the beginnings of their change. They were all half Sanguen and half Guardian, dark hair and dark eyes.” Kel ticked them off on her fingers. “The fifth girl that we found in McLaren Park had been recently handled by Jimmy Centrone, and I traced her back to a Triumvirate home down in Visitacion Valley.”

  Kel paused when her boss’s eyes snapped alertly to hers. There was a question there. Forestor didn’t know what she experienced in the Triumvirate home but his assumptions were probably pretty close. He had seen her shortly after she’d run away.

  Gabe’s large body shifted restlessly behind her chair.

  Kel carefully managed her small spike of anger, remembering that her blood had given Gabe a nice big picture window into her emotions. Even as she was controlling them she could feel his presence there, settling light and careful in her mind. Against her will, she was more comforted than irritated by the intrusion. She didn’t feel so…alone.

  “The Fire Elemental in charge there had sold her to Centrone. Marshal Ferrar’s partner, Karl Pryor, met with Centrone two nights ago to proctor a blood deal. Centrone had brought a sample which I managed to recover from the scene. Dr. Mahoney analyzed the blood. It belonged to the girl we found in the park. We believe our perp is a full-blood male Sanguen who may be taking the girls to blood them for their Guardian blood.” Kel cleared her throat. “We – ah – have reason to believe the half Guardian blood of the victims may give the user Guardian-like strengths.”

  “Blooding children is punishable by death and their blood has no nutritional value,” Gabe added with disgust. It was obvious that aspect of the case was what appalled him the most.

  “But,” Kel added, “The doc believes that if the girls are going through their change that may indicate a similar maturity in their blood.”

  “That is not a very efficient means to choose victims,” Gabe argued. “We don’t have any reason to believe that’s the factor that attracts him.”

  One corner of Forestor’s mouth lifted in a sneer but his pale eyes remained unchanged, clear and cold. “Then why children?”

  “We don’t know yet. Also, Marshal Ferrar was attacked early this morning, just before sunrise. They were under orders to kill him. Aside from my instincts saying the two are linked we do not have any evidence linking his attack with the missing girls.”

  “Could it possibly be personal, Marshal?”

  “Possibly,” Gabe began. “I b
elieve the man Karl Pryor was working for is a member of the Ferrar House. He may be aware of why I am here.”

  “And he wants to eliminate you before you get any closer to finding him,” Forestor finished.

  “Which means,” Kel said with satisfaction, “that we must be close or at least moving in the right direction. I think we should go after Centrone tonight. That weasel knows something and I want to know what it is.”

  “You need food and rest tonight. We can search for your blood dealer in the morning.”

  Kel jerked around in her chair to pin him with a hard look. “I thought we discussed this. I can decide what’s best for me.”

  “As you decided when you were dying from blood loss?” Gabe shot back.

  “And we both know why that went so smoothly,” Kel snapped.

  “If” – Kye Forestor interrupted before their argument accelerated – “the attack on Marshal Ferrar is, in fact, linked to your case he will need you, his partner, at full strength to cover his back if you are going to go after Centrone. Blood loss is very serious, Sheridan. In order to be of any use to this case and your partner, you need protein and sleep.”

  Kel stiffened but managed to jerk a nod loose. “Sir.”

  Treading to the door with his smooth, predatory stride, Forestor stopped and turned around. “Try to get me an update before the end of the day tomorrow. Have Dr. Mahoney put some pressure on forensics for any evidence on the girl’s body. If your guy bled the girl, there should be something indicating who he is.”

  LATER THAT EVENING Gabe sat on Kel’s overstuffed couch, bare-chested and wearing a pair of light cotton drawstring pants for modesty’s sake. Kel’s modesty. When she’d seen him, she’d retreated into her bedroom as fast as her shapely little legs could carry her and slammed the door behind her. She hadn’t shown her face since.

  Coward.

  He could feel her hunger for him and knew it would only be a matter of time before she couldn’t resist the drive to take his blood. The thought of her hot little mouth on his skin, those tiny pointed teeth sinking into his flesh, made him so hard he had to shift his position on the sofa to lessen the pressure. Stifling a groan he forced his canines to retract.

  Kel was beyond frustrating. She acknowledged her desire for him at the same time she rejected it. She wanted him, had demanded his touch, and her body had received him so sweetly. Even now the memory of just how sweet she had felt, so hot and wet and perfect, made him groan. The smell of her heat, her desire for him, had been thick and heavy in his head, rousing the beast and deafening his sanity. Her pussy had been so slick and warm under his hand as her tight muscles had rippled and squeezed his fingers. Damn, he’d wanted nothing more to be inside her again, but he wanted their sex to be progress, not intermission. It had to be her choice, but it was damn hard. He was damn hard. And it wasn’t getting any better. Especially surrounded by her scent in her small apartment.

  At least he’d won that battle. They’d argued all the way through dinner where she’d wolfed down a thick, bloody steak the size of his head. He suspected she’d ordered the thing to punish him, but he had to admit the smell hadn’t been completely nauseating. Her blood was changing him in more ways than one. He’d eaten as much as she had, but despite how much he ate he hadn’t felt satisfied. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and he already hungered to bleed her again.

  Her Guardian blood must be increasing his metabolism. Sanguen were vegetarians, but no matter the size of his vegan meal he still felt hungry. How soon could he take her blood without endangering her life with too much blood loss? He’d have to put the question to that redheaded doctor who made him feel like a lab rat. She made him uneasy but she seemed to know much about Kel’s health. A topic whose importance outweighed any edginess she elicited in him.

  It was an odd bond they shared, nothing like he’d been raised to expect. Most bonded pairs were arranged by the House elders, not that spontaneous bonding couldn’t happen. A female couldn’t conceive unless she took the blood of her mate. It was a symbiotic relationship. Love very rarely entered into the equation, at least not at first.

  His parents had not loved each other from the beginning. The elders and his great-grandfather, the doyen at the time, had carefully chosen a mate for his father. They had been meticulous in ensuring a healthy mate with a clean lineage. There was a blood disorder afflicting many newborn Sanguen with alarming regularity over the last two hundred years. They knew it was genetic, but doctors had been unable to isolate its origin or how to treat it. Since his uncle had been born with the inherited blood disorder, they had been careful to be sure his mother’s family did not show any sign of the corrupted gene.

  His parents shared a great affection now but he’d never witnessed in them the intense sexual energy that arced between him and Kel. Perhaps since their bonding had been driven by their combined chemistry their actual bond was more intense, more natural. The strength of his need to possess and protect her was a force he’d never battled before. He wanted to challenge every male that looked at her or spoke to her. There was a frightening instinct to kill any man that touched her.

  Their bond was nothing like the staid, balanced relationship his parents shared. Or that his grandparents shared. Or that any other bonded Sanguen pair he knew shared. Of course, as far as he knew, none of the females were crossbreeds.

  With a sigh he glanced down at the contents of the file he’d spread out over her coffee table with waning interest and tried not to listen to the sound of her moving restlessly in her bed one thin wall away. Were her nightclothes just as provocative as what she wore outside her apartment? He had yet to see her in anything that completely covered her sweet little navel. It was always peeking out at him when she moved, offering a sexy distraction from the case he should be focusing on. Even now he couldn’t make himself focus on the file laid out before him and she wasn’t even in sight. Maybe it was what he couldn’t see that made it worse.

  His imagination had her sprawled out on her bed, the sheets tangled around her dainty little ankles and feet, wearing one of those little tank tops and a sheer slip of silk. Her tank would be gathered up near the full swell of flesh just under her breasts. All that exposed flesh flushed with warm blood from sleep.

  Their lovemaking had been so frantic and driven up to that point, and he wanted more than a quick fuck in the parking garage. He want to take his time, to explore her delicious little body at his leisure, swirl his tongue around that sweet little navel that constantly teased him from the top of her low-hung jeans, pull the peaks of her firm breasts tightly into his mouth and feel her body tense and writhe beneath him. God, just the thought of spreading those slick, swollen folds to taste the pink flesh between her thighs made his cock jerk with interest. She would melt on his tongue.

  Fuck! He wanted to own her with his body; to burn his touch into every inch of her flesh so deeply that each time her nipples peaked it was only the heat of his mouth she could think of. When that sweet little pussy throbbed for release it was only his cock that could satisfy it.

  Groaning, Gabe dropped back against the cushions on the couch and threw an arm over his eyes, letting himself sink into the luxury of the fantasy. He throbbed, the weight of his erection hard and heavy against his flat stomach.

  His new, sensitive hearing picked up every sound from the other room. She made a little whimper as she tossed restlessly again. Was she dreaming of him? Her body just as heavy and frustrated as his was? Did her body throb, as empty and hungry for him as he was for her?

  There was another little whimper that made his erection jerk in response. Lowering his arm, he listened intently as another whimper filled the silence. With a frown he sat up, his arousal temporarily forgotten as the whimpers began to sound more and more like she was in distress.

  A nightmare?

  “Nnnnoooooooooooooo!”

  Gabe vaulted over the back of the couch at the shrill cry and threw open her bedroom door. She was thrashing violently on
the bed, still emitting little sounds of anguish. Coming to her bed, he laid a hand on her arm.

  “Kel, baby, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

  When she only moved with more urgency he pulled her body onto his lap, rubbed a hand over her back; her tremors seemed to course right through her and into him.

  “Come on, baby, wake up for me,” he murmured, brushing her hair back from her flushed face, the delicate diamond in her nose flashing in the dark. He could clearly see the dark chocolate depths of her eyes as she gazed up at him. Her body was warm and pliant in his arms as he watched first terror and then confusion clear from those dark liquid depths. His fantasy pajamas were not far off the mark. She was wearing a little blue tank with thin straps and a pair of cotton panties. From the smooth feel of her ass nestled against him he would guess they were thong panties.

  She said nothing as she continued to stare up at him. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips and he felt himself stir again beneath her hips. The sarcastic quip he’d expected about his being in her bed never came. Instead she reached up to slip her fingers into his hair, her fist closing around the thick strands that came nearly to his shoulders. Those dark liquid eyes shimmered with something intense as she drew his mouth down to hers.

  He felt her fangs scrape against his bottom lip, and his body shook with anticipation. It was time.

  Chapter Eleven

  The heavy heat and spice that was Gabe surrounded her as the nightmare faded back into the darkness where it belonged. Despite the terror of moments before, she couldn’t process anything beyond his presence in her room, on her bed right at that moment. She was overwhelmed by him. His body was so warm against her side, his thighs hard beneath her bare bottom, the grip of his long fingers pressing into her hip sending little currents of awareness through her own body.

  Even in the darkness of her room she could make out every detail of his face, the many shades of blond in his soft beard, the tiny creases in his even softer lips. Once again she craved the contrast between the two, the taste of his gasp on her tongue. She speared her hand into his incredibly silky hair she pulled his face down to hers. With the first brush of his mouth to hers her canines slid smoothly out and she couldn’t resist the teasing caress of them against his lip.