For the first time in her unimpressive existence.
“Erion!” His name ripped from her throat as she climaxed. A sudden shock of lightning that hit her quick and hard. She moaned over and over into the warm, wet air of the Fields as her muscles, her womb, her pussy, rode the waves of release.
“Oh, my demon girl,” Erion whispered against her wet nipple. “You come so pretty, so hard. Every inch of you shakes. And the scent of your cream.” He groaned. “You know I have to see it again.”
Hellen lifted her chin, her glazed expression making him chuckle. “That’s right, beautiful. We’re just getting started.”
Gentle rain began to fall, the sweet ash scent mixing with the scent of her climax, of the wet heat between her thighs. Erion caught it, his nostrils flaring.
“How hot are you down here?” he whispered, his eyes lusty, hungry as his hand caressed her belly. “Will your cunt burn my hand, Hellen?”
She couldn’t speak. It was as if her orgasm had stolen her voice. All that remained within her were moans and sighs and a refusal to think about anything outside of the Rain Fields. Erion slipped a hand beneath the waistband of her pants. She wasn’t wearing underwear, and he groaned as he discovered her bare flesh for himself.
“I’ve thought about being here again,” he uttered hoarsely. “Dreamed about it. I love it here. I could spend hours here and be a very happy beast.”
Though she had just climaxed, Hellen felt the familiar rush of heat build within her once again, but she also felt the evidence of the act between her thighs. It was slick and plentiful, and she wondered if that would put him off or please him. Suddenly shy, she pulled her sex away from his touch.
Erion reacted instantly, his hand coming around to cup her ass, hold her in place. “What’s wrong?”
She whimpered. “I’m so hot, so . . .”
“Wet?” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
His hand moved down, his fingers slipping inside her pussy. He groaned. “It’s how you will always be when I touch you.”
She swallowed. “It’s too much.”
“No.” He eased out of her with a growl. “It will never be enough.” He brought his hand up for her to see, his fingers shiny with her arousal. Grinning, he slipped them inside his mouth and suckled.
Heat surged into Hellen’s sex as she watched him.
He groaned. “I love your cream, demon girl.”
It’s too much, she thought as she melted against him. He was too much. Her clit throbbed and her muscles clenched with the need to come again. As the rain fell around them, she felt his hand slip once again inside her jeans, and she closed her eyes.
He entered her with one finger, and she gasped at the sensation. Deliciously impaled, taken, possessed. She wanted more. She squeezed her ass, pressing herself closer to his hand. She heard a soft chuckle as he eased another finger inside her.
“Don’t close your eyes, Hellen,” he whispered, stroking her slowly, almost gently as his thumb worked her clit. “I need to see you, know you’re seeing me when you come.”
Her lids fluttered open, and as she pulled air into her lungs, as Erion’s slick caresses became deep thrusts, she held his gaze. Within her, her demon snorted and growled and wanted to rise and connect with the male it desired so furiously. Denying it was impossible. With a helpless, wanton cry, Hellen released her demon as she pumped furiously against Erion’s thick, ruthless fingers.
“Beautiful,” he whispered as the light rain intensified.
Blood roaring in her ears, racing through her veins, Hellen cried out, shattering, splintering, her demon utterly unleashed. Erion continued to stroke her, deep and hungry, his eyes locked with hers as wave upon wave of climax drenched his fingers.
His jaw tight, his eyes flaring with the hunger of a male who wanted to claim what belonged to him, Erion eased his fingers from her slick channel. Hellen wasted no time. With shaky, desperate fingers, she started working her jeans down her hips. Close to feral, Erion growled and attacked, coiling over her like a snake ready to strike. One of his hands shot out to grip the descending waistband of her jeans, and Hellen grinned, thinking he might rip them off her. Every inch of her was trembling, wondering, anticipating. She couldn’t wait. She licked her lips as she reached for his zipper.
“Hellen.”
The tone of his voice had her stopping, had her looking up into his face, which was a mask of both sexual pain and terror.
Confused, she tried to touch him, get to his skin, but he inched back. “Erion,” she whimpered. “I need you, and you need me.”
“Shit.” He stared down at her, shifting between demon and vampire. “I can’t.”
It was as if she’d swallowed another vial of draft. A wave of cool insecurity and confusion moved through her. “You don’t want to be inside me? You don’t want me to touch you?”
He remained poised above her, breathing heavily. “I want it more than anything.”
She sighed with relief. “Then let me. You made me feel incredible, Erion. The way you touched me, stroked me, my body was yours. I want to make you feel good.”
When she reached for him again, he grabbed her wrist and snarled. “Goddamn it, Hellen! Didn’t you hear me? I want it more than anything. Anything.”
“Oh, Erion,” she breathed.
His eyes were wild and raw. “If I touch you, I won’t stop until I’ve taken you fully!” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “And if I take you, he’ll kill my son.”
The words stole not only the desire between them, but the fantasy they’d built over the past few hours. What he’d said was so simple, so awful.
And so true.
Her selfish desire, her burgeoning love, would get Ladd killed. She looked up at him and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Erion.”
“Not as sorry as I am.”
Before her eyes, the lionlike demon receded and it was vampire Erion poised above her. They stared at each other, just breathing in and out, one coming down from climax, the other reining in his anger and desire as the rain ceased and the lemon yellow daylight emerged.
• • •
Nicholas paced in the kitchen of the SoHo house, his gaze moving from one mutore male to the next. “Did you know Erion had purchased a home?”
“No,” Helo said simply. “Where is it?”
“He didn’t ask you to keep this from me?” Nicholas continued. “From us?”
Lycos sneered. “Who is ‘us,’ Brother? The Romans?”
Nicholas was amped up and worried about his mate, who seemed slightly despondent when he’d parted ways with her in France. He was anxious to get back, hold her close, fight by her side—fight for Ladd. He just had to get as much information as possible from these pavens first.
He stalked over to the wolf vampire and knocked over his cup of blood.
“Hey!”
“I don’t have time to play games with you, Lycos,” he snarled. “Kate is on her way to meet with the male who might know where Erion has disappeared to—where he’s taken this female we seek. Where Ladd might be at this very fucking minute!” He leaned down and got in the wolf paven’s face. “I need to know what you know.”
Lycos’s lip twitched, and he growled softly. “He never told us a goddamn thing.”
Nicholas backed up, sighed. He could never tell truth from fiction with Lycos; the paven was just a hard-core dick. Had Erion really been that secretive about his new digs?
“You’ve been to his home?” Phane asked, rounding the kitchen counter, his mismatched eyes concerned.
Now this mutore was different, Nicholas mused. The hawklike paven was fierce, guarded, but he always seemed to be pretty forthcoming.
Nicholas nodded. “But it’s not a home. It’s a castle.”
Lycos snorted. “No shit? You two really are twins.”
“If he has disappeared, we will find him,” Phane said, glancing at Helo. “We may be able to scent him.”
Helo nodded, then turned to Nicholas. “What about Luca?”
“Already on his way.”
“And Alexander and the Brit? Do you want to wait for them?”
Nicholas shook his head. He’d tried several times to contact Alex, but he hadn’t replied. “I don’t know where they are or when they’re coming back, but I don’t have time to search for anyone else.”
Helo nodded.
“We will leave word with your servant, Evans,” Phane said. “Let’s go, Ly.”
“If they get back in time from wherever the hell they are, maybe they can join us in this fight.” With the beasts behind him, Nicholas headed for the door. “If not, we can handle this just fine on our own.”
• • •
Why didn’t Hell have water?
Cold water.
The kind that froze the shit out of your skin and made icicles hang from your dick?
Erion stalked up the hill away from the Rain Fields, his anger and frustration both sexual and situational. He wanted Hellen desperately, wanted her beneath him right now, her legs wrapped around his waist, her sexy green eyes locked with his as he pounded into her.
He wanted to hear her come again.
Twice wasn’t enough. Not for him or his demon beast.
“Where are you going?”
His nostrils flared at her voice, coming at his back. He could detect the faint strains of lingering desire, and they made him want to round on her and kiss them away.
Instead he shouted over his shoulder, “Back to the dungeon.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he heard her sigh. He knew that sound. Liked it too. It was really hot when he eased a finger inside her and slowly worked her body toward climax.
Fuck.
He broke into a run, his beast roaring to life as he hauled ass toward the archway. As soon as he crossed over the barrier, he slowed. Dropping into a fighting stance, he scoped out every crack and crevice in the tunnel.
“You don’t know the way, Erion.” She was right behind him.
He stilled, growled. “Then take me there, woman.”
“Don’t start that again.”
“Take me there and tie me up and let me attempt to forget how you smell, how you feel, how you taste.” He turned to face her. Her eyes—her goddamn eyes—shimmered with lust and he reached for her, pulled her up in his arms. “And how, to save my balas, I must watch you give all those rare and treasured gifts to the most vile creature on earth.”
She stared up at him, desire in her eyes but sadness too. She was no longer her full demon self, and that made Erion mourn. For a moment, they just clung to each other, waiting for an answer to an impossible situation. But nothing came. Finally, Hellen broke from him and took his hand, led him down the tunnel.
They were quiet as they walked, even when they had to duck into another passageway to escape the detection of one of Hellen’s father’s henchmen. Holding her against him, Erion had forced himself to remain calm. His protective instincts flared when she was near, and ripping apart one of the males who worked for Abbadon might be just the thing to cool his ire.
Or at least satiate his bloodlust.
It was several minutes later when they finally reached the door to the Underworld’s dungeon. But Hellen went to stand before it, blocking the way.
“Have you some final parting words to offer, demon girl?” he said bitterly.
“Don’t believe I want this.”
His gut tightened. “I won’t if you don’t go through with it.”
“If it’s not me with Cruen, it will be one of my sisters.” She shook her head, her eyes razor sharp in their resoluteness. “I won’t let that happen.”
“I cannot watch you be the sacrificial lamb!” he roared.
“Then don’t.”
“What? Close my eyes? I can still hear, still scent.” His jaw went tight. “I have no choice.”
Her face fell. “I know. Neither do I. We love and protect our own, even at the cost of our own happiness.”
He dragged a hand through his hair, paced back and forth in front of the door. “Your father wants what from this union?”
“His foothold on Earth.” She added softly, “An heir he believes will have the power to remain in either world for any length of time.”
He stopped. “Then let me offer for you. I am vampire. I will give you one.”
She blanched, went white as snow. Something crossed her gaze, a sweet, pure unhappiness that had him cursing.
His voice dropped to a prayer. “Say yes.”
She shook her head. “Not possible, Erion.”
The softness within him fled, and he once again became a vampire beast with his hands tied. “Because I am mutore, right?” he spat out bitterly. “It must be that pure asshole’s balas for Daddy to be happy.”
“Partly,” she said miserably.
Erion froze, his eyes narrowed. “And the other part?”
She said something, mumbled something.
He reached out, put a finger under her chin, and lifted. He wanted to see her eyes, her mouth. It wasn’t a pleasing sight. The former looked grave; the latter trembled. “What did you say?”
Her jaw trembled beneath his fingers. “I can never have a child.”
Erion moved quickly, gathering her in his arms, and taking her inside his dungeon. He slammed the door with his boot and set her down to face him. “I don’t understand. You said your father wants you to have a child with Cruen, that it will be his chance at a true and lasting foothold on Earth.”
Her eyes lost every bit of their brightness. “Cruen will mate with me, thinking I will have a child, but by the time he realizes it’s not going to happen, it’ll be too late.” She turned away and walked past him to the wall where the shackles hung. “I will never allow my father’s genes to spread further. The dark magic I inherited from him is so strong, Erion. It is a curse, truly. I’m going to make sure it dies with me. Once Cruen mates with me, he cannot have my sisters. And when I turn up barren, my father will believe this union a failure, the vampire side not strong enough to merge with the demon side.”
She turned and found his gaze, gave him a shrug. “He will not embarrass himself or lower himself by trying again with one of his other children.”
Erion couldn’t believe what she was saying, how she had planned everything. In fact, he wasn’t entirely certain she had. “How can you be sure you can’t have a balas?”
A soft smile touched her mouth. “My mother was an incredible female, honest and strong. She brought me up to be the same way. She knew what I was facing with my father, my future, and when it was decided that I would mate with Cruen, I begged her to help me.” Instead of looking sheepish or sad, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in a blatant show of pride. “She was a great proponent of magic, very gifted, and able to keep her talent a secret from my father. She fixed me, used a very strong potion to kill off my ability to have children.”
“Oh, Hellen . . .”
Her eyes flared. “Don’t pity me.”
“That’s not what I feel.”
“I’m grateful, Erion. You have no idea what is inside me, what should never be unleashed or passed on.”
For several seconds, Erion just looked at her. He couldn’t speak, could hardly put everything she’d just told him together in his mind. Finally, he turned away, went to the wall, placed his wrists in the shackles, then gave the stone his back. “Your father will return soon. Make sure I am the same prisoner he left.”
Silently, Hellen did as he asked, locking both sets of restraints, containing him once again.
When she stood before him, gazed into his eyes, she sighed. “Erion, please don�
�t,” she warned. “Your eyes, your demon hovering beneath, it’s the worst form of torture.”
Utter rage burned inside him, and helplessness gripped his dead soul. He could fight chains and demons, but how did he fight Hellen’s conscience? Her selfless ambition? The very thing he understood so well—the very thing that made her his demon girl?
And yet she was his to protect.
“You know I cannot allow him to touch you.”
Her eyes went hard, her tone too. “There is no choice here.”
“Of course there’s a choice. There’s always a fucking choice.” He laughed bitterly. “After this, after everything we’ve shared, my demon beast will not sit idly by while another male mounts you. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I’m restrained, I will kill myself getting to you.”
Her eyes went wide, fearful. “Please, Erion. You would do anything for your balas, your family. Just as I will do anything for my sisters.” She grabbed his face with her hands and kissed him, hard and desperate and no doubt for the last time. Then she turned away just as brutally and headed for the door. But when her hand hit the wood, she paused and glanced back. Her demon flashed, but she shook it away, held it back just long enough to say, “Tomorrow eve I will mate with that bastard, and you will take your son and get the hell out of Hell.”
15
“You seek a female?”
Alexander nodded, his gaze shifting momentarily to the veana on his right. Celestine appeared uncomfortable. For many reasons he imagined, one of which was associating with the Eyes. She didn’t trust the street clan who bought and sold information in the vampire world. Hell, Alexander didn’t either, but when you’ve exhausted all other avenues and they are the only ones left, you put aside your mistrust.
At least until they attempted to overcharge you.
“Is this female you seek Impure?” Whistler asked, leaning across the chipped chess table in Washington Square Park. A favored spot for the Eye the Romans frequently used when seeking information.
“She would be Pureblood,” Alexander told him quietly, knowing his words—even the mention of the female being alive—were no doubt a knife in Cellie’s unbeating heart. “But if she exists, she might not be sure where she belongs.”
Eternal Demon: Mark of the Vampire Page 18