Eternal Demon: Mark of the Vampire

by Wright, Laura

  “In there,” Hellen said, gesturing to a stretch of land behind him. “What you sensed and heard hides within. Excess magical energy courtesy of my father.” She grinned wider. “Ready for some fun, demon?”

  He turned to look, and she watched him take in her pride and joy.

  “This is the Rain Fields,” she said. “The clouds that hang just feet off the ground give hot rain and also give rogue demons a place to hide.” She expected curiosity in his expression, perhaps even excitement, but found him looking strained. “What?”

  He shook his head.

  “Erion, what’s wrong?” His face had gone very pale.

  “It’s not possible,” he said, his gaze fixed on her beautiful hunting grounds. “But I swear I’ve been here before.”

  • • •

  The power that surged through Cruen was a welcome friend. It had been so long since he’d felt this strong in mind and in body; he mourned the time he’d lost.

  Unfortunately, it would have to be a short memorial.

  “It is all you will get until my daughter is with child.”

  Cruen inhaled deeply, then settled his keen gaze on his benefactor. “No. I don’t think so.”

  Abbadon rose to his full height, his skin a deep and angry red, his eyes piercing. “You dare to speak to me this way?”

  They stood outside under the white-tented succulent garden behind Cruen’s compound. It was Cruen’s feeding ground as well as his place of meditation. He would not have his servants or anyone in his employ seeing him take blood from the Demon King. They would not fear him as they should. Nor would they respect him. Granted, the former was more important to him, but one needed both to rule properly.

  Cruen also rose to his full height, nearly ten feet, and when they were eye to eye, he said in a calm yet grave voice, “You want a secure foothold here, I will give it to you. But I have wants, needs—a future I will see. I won’t break our bargain, but I won’t go into it unprepared.”

  “You want my power?”

  “Yes.”

  “And yet you insult me.”

  “I won’t bow down to you, Abbadon. I respect you,” he added for good measure. “We have an agreement. You continue giving me your blood, and I will give your daughter a balas.”

  “A demon.”

  “Call it what you will,” Cruen said, returning to his natural height and going to sit at the table near his small stream.

  Following his example, Abbadon retreated to a more forgiving size and joined him at the table. “Unfortunately, Cruen, that is not quite enough for me.”

  “Your daughter’s demon swell is not enough? The child with the perfect magical DNA for you to extract? The DNA that will allow you to remain on Earth indefinitely?” Cruen sniffed. “That is quite a pretty package, unlike your daughter. Truthfully speaking, Abbadon, I don’t know many who would agree to take your female. Or have you not looked upon her face as of late?”

  The Demon King lifted his chin. “She may not have beauty—”

  “She is hideous.”

  “She is a demon,” Abbadon snarled.

  “To any vampire, she is ugly, undesirable. I don’t say this to be cruel; it is a fact I have accepted. But understand, no one of my rank would take her on. So when you ask me for more—”

  “No vampire would take her?” Abbadon repeated, his white eyes glistening with mirth.

  “If you feel you must explore that assessment, have at it.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary. Your former son has already tasted her.” He grinned wickedly. “And found her most pleasing.”

  Cruen stilled. “My son?”

  “The mutore.”

  He sat up in his chair, grew a foot taller in his sudden apprehension. “Erion? How would you know such a thing? Where is he?”

  The tension was not lost on Abbadon. His grin widened. “I have him contained in Hell.”

  “You must release him,” Cruen said with too much passion. He knew it wasn’t wise to show his care, his concern, for the male. Abbadon would use it.

  “After taking what didn’t belong to him, he must be punished.”

  “The punishment was the boy. I gave you the boy.”

  “I claimed the boy,” Abbadon said. “You were too weak to fight.”

  Cruen’s jaw tightened. He cared nothing for the balas, but Erion was something special to him. He wanted the male home. He had affection for him and wanted to use him and his blood in the new tests he was conducting on an improved Breeding Male gene. But he saw the look on Abbadon’s face. His power, his demands with the Demon King only stretched so far. His number-one priority must and should always be himself and getting the blood he needed to sustain his power.

  He sat back in his chair and eyed the Devil before him. “How do you plan to punish him?”

  “That is the little extra I seek from you, Cruen.” His eyes locked with Cruen and held. “He is going to be a witness to your mating ceremony with Hellen.”

  Is that all? “Fine.”

  “Your entire mating. Not just the words and the promise of a long life together, but the sexual union. It will be a special and rare treat for him and for my community to witness the conception of my demon child.”

  As this information took root, Cruen’s mouth twisted into a savage expression. “I will not participate.”

  “If you wish to have my blood and my power, you will.” He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and breathed in his triumph. “You will take my daughter before the crowd. And after she has birthed the first child of Hell, if you wish to toss her to your mongrel son, I will not fight you. But until then, this game will be played my way.”

  • • •

  Erion’s first rogue kill gave him a total hard-on.

  Who would have thought it? After an entire life spent serving and protecting Cruen and his interests, never feeling right or real in his own skin, never understanding where he belonged or to whom. As he ran beside Hellen, hunting, his demon fully unleashed and partnering with hers, he was complete.

  Maybe that was what he’d felt when he’d looked at the Rain Fields. A connection for his demon side. Whatever it was, he wanted more. A grin touched his lips as he spotted a flash of blue light. Maybe he would bring his son here, let the boy’s demon side come out and play. A battle between father and son—

  The idea made his insides pulse with dread. What was he thinking? The Underworld was no vacation spot, no matter how much it called to Erion in this moment. Once he got Ladd out of here, they were never coming back.

  “There!” Hellen called to him. “Behind you.”

  Erion rotated, nocking the arrow and drawing back his bow. In less than three seconds, he caught the flash of light between two clouds and released the arrow.

  The blue flash cracked under the attack, and Erion growled with victory.

  “You!” Hellen called, running toward him, her grin wide. “You were born to do this.”

  Her words, how she looked at him with both awe and curiosity, made his gut clench. Yes, it felt as if he belonged in here, hunting, killing. And as the demon female’s eyes warmed with appreciation, it also felt as though he belonged at her side.

  They took off again through the clouds, hunting low, instincts high. In perfect unison. When she dropped to one knee, he turned and covered her back. When she took out rogue after rogue, he grinned and admired her and congratulated her, and wanted her like he’d never wanted anyone.

  He sprinted out in front, and just as he did, the clouds broke around them and hot rain coated their legs from the knees down.

  “Erion, to your left!”

  He spun, his bow already stretched, and launched an arrow at the blue fire that shot into the air. Another rogue followed, but Hellen was quick to take it out. After the cracks rent the air, they both turned to e
ach other, breathing heavily and grinned.

  “Having fun?” she said.

  Erion stared at her. She was magnificent, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. She was in her full demon state, a proud, capable, sexy warrior, and he wanted her mouth under his, her body under his.

  “Oh, shit.” Her eyes went wide at something behind his ear, and she bolted toward him, her arrow nocked, her bow drawing back.

  Erion didn’t have a second to turn and address what was behind him. She yelled, “Get down,” and sent the arrow flying as she leaped into the air.

  She landed on top of him with a jarring crash. Instantly protective, Erion grabbed her around the waist and flipped her onto her back. His head came up, his fangs came out, and he growled at whatever might be lingering. Then he saw it, the arrow she’d sent. It was for only a second—the tip piercing blue light. Then the arrow dropped and the crackle of dead rogue rent the air.

  “I got him, baby. No worries.”

  Erion looked down at her, tucked beneath his body. She was grinning wickedly up at him, and he broke out laughing.

  “We make a good team. Don’t you think?” she said.

  He placed his arms on either side of her head and lifted himself just enough so she wasn’t bearing his weight. “As long as you’re around to save my ass, we do.”

  She pulled her arms free and grabbed his ass. “Oh yeah. Infinitely worth saving.”

  Erion groaned, his cock swelling, his fingers digging into the ground. “You feel so damn good, demon girl.”

  Her back against the wet earth, her front snug against him, he leaned down and took what his body, his mind, and his mouth all desired.

  It was the worst mistake of his life.

  She didn’t feel good—she felt electric.

  She didn’t taste good—she tasted like the sweetest blood.

  She didn’t belong to Cruen . . .

  Shit. He changed the angle of his kiss and consumed her again.

  . . . She belonged to him.

  14

  Accepting the heat that refused to be tamped down or drugged into submission, Hellen moved seductively beneath Erion. She’d never moved that way beneath a male in her life, never known the feeling of long limbs and delicious weight pressing her deeper into the earth as a hungry mouth devoured her. She’d never known the feel of a male’s hard cock against her belly or the erotic heat he gave off through his skin. It was completely intoxicating and addictive, and she never wanted him to release her.

  As if hearing her thoughts, Erion lifted his head a few inches, concern lighting his diamond gaze. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No.” She wriggled deeper under him, moaning as the scent of his skin, his sweat, rushed into her nostrils. “No, you feel so good.” She reached up and stroked his face with her fingertips. His skin was rough, especially around the mouth. The feel of it made her own skin tighten.

  He turned his head, just enough so he could kiss the palm of her hand. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m really not.”

  “My eyes do not deceive me, demon girl, nor does my heart—and on this they agree most ardently.” Leaning down, he kissed both of her cheeks, then hovered a mere breath away from her mouth. “We may reside in Hell at the moment, but your beauty is heavenly.”

  No one had ever spoken to her like this. Looked at her the way he did—both hungry and awed. It was so clear in his eyes that he saw her the way no one else did—or ever had, and it made her all the more impatient to touch him and be taken by him.

  With a happy grin, she sank her fingers into his hair and tugged him toward her, wanting his lips against hers again. Chuckling, Erion obliged her, fisting his hands in her shirt and taking her mouth in a series of hard, demanding kisses as he slowly circled his hips against her. Heat surged into every cell of Hellen’s body, and she responded with a soft growl and a nip to his lower lip. This male didn’t ask for what he wanted; he took it. Her mouth, her mind . . . her. And she loved it. She’d never believed that there was a being in existence who might be so right for her. Maybe if she had . . .

  She growled again. Do not go there, female, she warned herself. You’ve chosen your path and it’s the right one. This . . . this amazing moment in time will have to serve as a delicious, coveted memory.

  For them both.

  She whispered his name, and when his lips parted to take hers again, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Ahhhh, he tasted good, of spice and heat. Erion growled in response, his hands gripping her flesh through the material of her shirt as he kissed her so deeply, she cried out.

  In one smooth movement, he sat up, taking her with him.

  “Wrap your legs around me, Hellen,” he demanded, his voice silky, erotic. “I want to feel you tight against me, want the heat of your pussy crying out for my cock.”

  His words inflamed Hellen, and she was quick to straddle him, her sex clenching as he cupped her ass and eased her closer. For one moment, they stilled, staring at each other. It was as if the demons within them required a silent conversation, perhaps even an agreement. The heat off their skin, the heat that raged inside them both, cried out to be released. But was that wise? Hellen licked her dry lips, her breasts tingling beneath her tank, her belly tightening, the hard bud of her clitoris swelling. She wanted him to touch her so badly, make her moan, make her come, make her scream, yet once he did it would be the end of their moment in time—the end of everything good, everything true.

  It would be the end of them.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Hellen saw a flash. A quick blue flash. But Erion had seen it first. He pressed her even tighter against himself, grabbed his bow from the ground behind her, and before she could manage her next breath, he’d pulled back the arrow and let it fly. Hellen barely heard the crack of the dead rogue over Erion’s fierce and highly irritated roar.

  She stared down at him, watched with fascination as the feral lionlike features of his demon side surged to the surface and overtook the smooth skin of his vampire.

  A hot thrill passed through Hellen, and her nipples and sex hummed with need.

  “Cease your play!” he called out in the most terrifying voice she’d ever heard. “The next rogue to interfere will not die without long-lasting torment!”

  The Rain Fields fell shockingly quiet. Hellen too. She’d yelled at those little bastards a hundred times, twice when she’d been bleeding, and they’d actually laughed at her before attacking her again.

  When Erion’s hard, hot gaze returned to her, Hellen shook her head at him and grinned. “Impressive.”

  He growled at her.

  The sound ripped through any shred of clearheaded self-possession that remained within her, leaving only her true demon self. She answered him with a growl of her own, an invitation . . . no, a demand. In that moment, she wanted Erion and his demon more than she wanted her next breath.

  Erion’s body went rigid beneath hers, and she saw him start to shift, saw him working to return to his vampire form.

  “No,” she rasped, deeply and painfully impassioned, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Stay in your demon form.”

  Jaw tight, he shook his head. “I don’t wish to scare you, repulse you.”

  “Repulse me!” The tension within her eased slightly, and she laughed. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I thought I might come just from your growl alone.”

  Erion’s eyes darkened with lust, and his lion’s mouth tipped up at the corners. “Oh, I like that. But you won’t come from my growl, demon girl. Not today.” He hooked his fingers beneath her tank and lifted it over her head. “Today you’ll come from my purr.”

  Her exposed skin tingled in the soft air of the Rain Fields, and she grinned. Excitement filled her. Anticipation ran wild through her veins, getting lost between her thighs. His hands were on her sh
oulders and moving down, the rough pads licking at her collarbone. Hellen swallowed, her back arching slightly, knowing where he was going and wishing he’d get there before she died from want.

  His gaze followed the movement of his hands, his fingers, his nails as they lightly grazed the skin above her breasts. Saliva pooled in Hellen’s mouth, and a moan escaped her lips. He didn’t remove her bra but eased the cups down just beneath her breasts, leaving them plump and high and very much exposed.

  Erion stared, his lips parted, eyes glazed.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried. Was that lust in his expression or repugnance? Did she look different from vampire females?

  Then he reached out and grazed one tight lavender nipple with his thumb. “Oh, demon girl,” he whispered, his voice harsh with lust. “I think I will die from wanting you.”

  Relief filled her, and she smiled at his honesty, his desire for her. “Take what you want, then,” she said breathlessly. “Anything you want.”

  One black eyebrow lifted seductively, dangerously. “That was not a request for permission.”

  Without waiting for her to respond, he dipped his head and slashed his tongue over one beaded nipple.

  Hellen cried out softly, her fingers gripping his shoulders, her legs wrapping around him tighter.

  “It was a warning.”

  He grasped both breasts in his hands and took one into his mouth, suckling it deeply. Hellen gasped for air and arched her back further. He kept drawing on her, deep pulls until she moaned and bucked her hips. His tongue, his mouth, was on fire—or maybe she was. She’d never felt such a sensation. It was as if everything he did to her breast directly affected her sex. She was swollen and aching and soaking wet, her clit screaming to be touched.

  Erion moved to her other breast, this time flicking the already stiff peak with his tongue so quickly she couldn’t keep up. The feeling was so amazing, so frantic—every thread inside her body alert and humming with life.

  This is it, she thought incredibly as she rocked her pussy against him, ground herself, her clit, against his stiff cock. She was filled with life.