My pulse throbbed in my ears. But more disturbingly, I could hear his, as if I had a stethoscope against his chest. “Nathan, what did you do?”
He looked me straight in the eye, and heat flashed through my body.
“I revived you the only way I knew how. I gave you my blood.”
“What does that mean?”
“At first, nothing. I was desperate, Carrie. I thought my blood might speed your healing, that’s all. Then, when I’d touch you to change your bandages, I started to see things, your memories. That’s how I knew.” He took a deep breath. “When you first became a vampire, you ingested some of Cyrus’s blood. Your heart must have stopped at some point—”
“After one of my surgeries.”
“That’s when you became a vampire. When I gave you my blood, your heart—” He looked away and cleared his throat. “You were already gone, but that didn’t seem to make a difference. The process repeated, as if you’d never been a vampire in the first place. I think I’m your sire now.”
My mouth went dry, and for the first time in my life, I was rendered speechless. But not for lack of trying. I had plenty to say, but too many thoughts whirled through my head. One was relief that Cyrus’s blood no longer pumped through my veins. But that wasn’t much of a comfort when, a second later, I remembered I knew just as little about Nathan as ever. And even he didn’t have a very high opinion of himself.
Of course, I knew it wasn’t in Nathan’s character to play the manipulative games Cyrus seemed to live for. But there had been attraction between us since the night we’d met.
That time seemed far away, and Nathan had almost become a complete stranger. He’d been guarded then, but I’d been able to glimpse the real Nathan at times.
But now he was my sire.
“I don’t understand.” My throat felt as if I’d just crossed a desert without a single drop of water. “Cyrus flatlined in the E.R. How did he survive without being re-sired?”
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger and closed his eyes. “Depending on our age and power, we can be dead for several hours while we heal, as long as our heart stays intact.” He stumbled over the words, then cleared his throat. “If you were as old as he is, you’d have been able to survive on your own without a problem.”
“So that’s it, then?” I took a deep breath, my chest tight and achy. “You’re my sire?” My tears were so sudden I didn’t have time to hold them back.
Unfortunately, Nathan, not having been privy to the inner dialogue preceding them, misinterpreted my hysterical sobs. He swore and stood, and before I could stop him, he charged out of the room.
I threw back the covers and followed him, grateful for the length of the T-shirt. The hardwood floor of the hallway was cold, so I tried to tiptoe across. After two weeks of barely moving them, my legs had a hard time keeping up. I tripped over my own feet and crashed into the wall.
Nathan was at my side in two seconds, his face filled with anger and annoyance. “I told you to stay in bed!”
He scooped me up, cradling me roughly against his chest. He dropped me onto the bed a little less gently than I’d expect someone to treat a person who’d been practically dissected, then headed for the door again.
“Wait a goddamned minute!” I didn’t sound as stern as I’d intended, partly because my face was buried in the pillow. I pushed up on my elbows to glare at him. “You’re not going to do this, Nathan. You’re just not!”
He met my furious expression with one of his own. “Do what?”
“Walk out!” I struggled to climb to my knees without exposing too much of myself. “You can’t just go, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m your sire, and hey, lucky you, I’m all dark and moody and too wrapped up in my own stuff to worry about your feelings!’ It’s not fair!”
“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. I’m real sorry if it hurts your feelings, but I don’t want to stand here and listen to you work through your issues.” He took a step toward the door.
“You don’t even know what my issues are!” Regardless of the fact I knew he’d just put me right back, I got out of bed and followed him.
“Oh, I think I can guess,” he said as he stormed into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator.
“Can you?” I watched him for a moment as he tried to remove the cap from a beer bottle. After he made several unsuccessful attempts to twist it off, I angrily snatched the bottle from him. “Well you’re one up on me, then. Because I have absolutely no idea what your problem is.”
I searched the silverware drawer. “Where the hell is your bottle opener?”
“Right here,” he said, transforming his face. He yanked the bottle from me and punctured the bottle top with one of his fangs, wrenching it off and spitting the metal into the sink as his features returned to normal.
“I can’t believe I’m tied to you on a cellular level now.”
The comment only served to irk him more. “I’m sorry I’m not more cultured. I’ll watch PBS. And cut people open for fun. Will that be better? Will you be less embarrassed to be my fledgling then?”
I probably could have cleared up the misunderstanding right then, but his whole attitude bothered me. I called him something very uncomplimentary and stomped into the bedroom. I started pulling out clothes and flinging them onto the bed.
Nathan followed me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting dressed. I’m going out.”
“The hell you are!” His hand closed over my arm, and I yanked it away.
“Excuse me, I’m not your prisoner. You can’t bully me into staying.” I was so mad that my whole body shook. I found it very difficult to keep my human face on.
“Fine. Go out there and get yourself killed. This time, I’m not going to stick my neck out to help you.” His Adam’s apple twitched as he swallowed. The look in his eyes was so intense that it burned mine.
My heart pounding, I took a step backward. At the same time, he moved forward. The backs of my knees hit the bed, but he kept advancing. I slapped my hands against his chest to push him back, and he grabbed my wrists.
The surge of emotions that shot through the blood tie was astounding. There was no anger. Only incredible fear. Fear that I would leave, fear that I’d get killed, or worse, go back to Cyrus.
Even scarier was the naked desire that flared between Nathan and myself.
I knew I could fight it. At least, for a little while. I’d resisted Cyrus long enough. But I’d wanted Nathan before we’d shared blood, and my raging hormones wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Neither would his, apparently. He jerked me forward, covering my mouth in a smothering kiss.
Though it wasn’t tender, his kiss didn’t set me on edge the way Cyrus’s had. I didn’t have to brace myself for a slap, or flinch from Nathan’s touch.
He heard my thought, and annoyed hurt vibrated through the tie. His hands left my wrists and his arms wrapped around my waist, crushing me against him as his tongue slipped over my lower lip.
Trust me. His thought whispered through my head. But he didn’t trust himself. I felt him attempt to block off his emotions, to feel nothing for me beyond physical desire. I sensed confusion in him when it proved impossible.
Then it hit me. I’m his first fledgling.
He couldn’t help his urge to protect me, or his need to be close to me. That loss of control was what scared him most.
As if to prove he was still strong, still in control, he cupped my buttocks and pulled my hips forward against the bulge of his erection.
The giggling teenage girl part of me noted my new sire came with a serious upgrade.
Nathan heard the thought. I felt his lips curve into a smile against mine.
This is how it’s supposed to be. Our blood tie wasn’t evil. It wasn’t a burden or something I had to guard myself against. The blood tie is a powerful bond, and it had been corrupted and abused by my previous sire.
I had been corrupted and abused b
y him. Nathan’s blood in my veins and his hands on my skin eased the pain I’d felt since Cyrus had been my sire.
Nathan needed this, too, if only for the distraction. All of his thoughts were tainted by a sense of urgency. What could he focus on in the moment to keep the unfortunate realities of his past from intruding on the present? It made my head spin. I couldn’t imagine living like that every second of every day of my life.
I gripped Nathan’s shoulders as we tumbled into the same bed for different reasons. He avoided, I confronted.
“It’s been a really long time since I’ve done this,” he mumbled apologetically against my neck as his hands skimmed below my T-shirt.
His fingers raised gooseflesh on my thighs. I shivered. “You’re doing fine.”
Every inch of his body was as hard as it looked. There wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on him, and when he pulled his shirt over his head I didn’t know where I wanted to touch first. My hands wandered restlessly over his smooth chest, his solid arms, the ridges of his abdomen.
Lying between my legs, he pushed my T-shirt up, baring my thighs, my stomach, my breasts. I pulled the shirt off and he rested his head against the curve of my stomach. When he kissed me there, I clamped my knees around his waist, my breath hitching.
With every gentle brush of his fingers, every stroke of his tongue against my flesh, he lost himself a little more in the act. His gratitude overwhelmed me.
Nathan sucked my nipple into his mouth, and I could only concentrate on his flicking tongue and the scrape of his stubble against my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair and closed my eyes. Nathan crawled up my body, pressing kisses to my neck. “It’s the most incredible thing,” he whispered. “I can hear what you’re thinking. Where you want me to touch you. Was it like that with—”
The instant he said it, my body went cold.
He cursed. “That was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.”
I wanted badly to cover myself. I was too exposed, too vulnerable. “It certainly wasn’t smart.”
“I only—” He shook his head. “You know you’re my first fledgling. This is an entirely new experience for me. I’m not used to being the one who needs information. I’m usually the answer guy.”
“I don’t know anything about being a sire, Nathan. I have no idea how it works. It’s something you’re just going to have to find out on your own.”
He rose onto his knees and it looked as though he was going to get up from the bed. His denied need throbbed painfully through my own aching body, and I reached for him. I’d never been the initiator in sexual situations. Most of the time, I’d just gone through the motions, wanting to please for the sake of approval. Now I just wanted to make him feel something other than fear or anguish. And I really wanted him.
“What are you—”
I shushed him as I reached for the gleaming button of his fly. He took a sharp breath as the button popped free. I pulled the zipper down and slipped my hand inside his pants.
Despite the interruption, he was still hard. His erection jerked as my fingers closed around its substantial girth, and his shudder passed through me. I stroked him, my head reeling from the peripheral sensations that affected me through the blood tie.
He stood beside the bed to step out of his jeans, and I slithered across the mattress to grip the tight muscles of his thighs. He groaned when I rubbed my cheek against his hip, my soft breath teasing his straining cock. I gave in to his silent urging through the tie, opening my mouth to draw him in.
He tasted salty, but not unpleasant. I swirled my tongue around the swollen head as I sucked more of him in. As his excitement built, so did mine. When he grasped my hair and gently pulled me back, I knew he’d nearly reached the end.
Laying me back, Nathan relied on the blood tie to learn how I liked to be touched. He’d rush to fulfill my requests with eager hands and lips. He reveled in my responses. Not the way Cyrus had. Nathan didn’t view my desire as a way to manipulate or control me.
This realization removed the last of my inhibitions. If I lost control with Nathan, I wouldn’t lose a part of myself. I was so relieved by this that I came as he slid two fingers inside me. From the look on his face, he was as surprised as I was.
“Apparently I’m not as rusty at this as I thought.” He sank between my legs, bracing his weight on his arms.
The movement of muscle beneath his skin fascinated me. “Watch it. I’ve got what I wanted. I could just decide I’m done with you and then where will you be?”
“Jerking off, like I’ve been for the past twenty years. But you’re not going anywhere.”
I slapped his shoulder lightly for his crude remark, and he reached between us and guided himself into the slick entrance of my body.
My lungs constricted as I stretched to accommodate him. I gasped, wrapping my arms around him. “Oh, my—oh.”
He slipped his hands beneath my back and lifted me onto his lap. I held on to his shoulders as every long inch of him slid into me.
Leaning close to my ear, he practically purred, “Told you you weren’t going anywhere.” I buried my face in his shoulder as he flexed his hips. He felt solid and real, and his skin smelled faintly of soap.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the night you came into the shop.” His voice was fueled by ragged breaths, and his words sent a shock through me.
It was nice to be wanted. Not for power or control, but wanted as a woman.
I pushed my hips down as he surged up and I bit down hard on my lip to stifle a moan. I tasted the blood my bite produced. Nathan leaned back, his eyes dark. He unconsciously licked his lip.
My heart pounded, echoing the throb of his erection that was buried deep inside me. Nathan’s eyes never left the smear of blood on my mouth.
“Go ahead,” I whispered. “I want you to.”
He hesitated only a moment. Then he caught my lip between his teeth and licked the blood away.
When I’d ingested Cyrus’s blood, I’d seen a vision of Nathan’s past death. I could only imagine what Nathan saw when he tasted mine.
Whatever it was, it tore a fierce growl from his throat. He pushed me back on the bed and stretched my arms high above my head, pinning me.
Pain. In my blood, he’d seen pain.
The tenderness in his eyes overwhelmed me. “Why didn’t you tell me what he did to you?”
I shut my eyes. “Why would you want to know?”
His lips brushed mine. There was nothing in the gesture but kindness, the love of a sire. His frustration and rage shook me to the core. “I could have made it better. I don’t know how, but I could have.”
I swallowed against tears. “You could make me forget.”
With a sad smile, he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He moved within me, slowly. Over and over, he withdrew almost completely, then slid back in, gaining a bit of speed each time. Soon, he pumped against me so furiously, an explosion of breath escaped from me with each thrust. I clenched the sheets in my fists and rocked in time to his movement.
The familiar spiraling feeling, the sense of swiftly losing control, gripped me. I needed only a little push to make it over the edge. Hearing my silent desperation, he slipped his hand between us and rubbed my swollen clitoris. The stimulation was exactly what I sought. I arched up from the bed.
It was his name I cried when I came, his face I saw when I opened my eyes. The relief was so intense that I almost sobbed.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned against my hair. He abandoned the rhythm, plunging into me with more urgency than before.
“Come,” I urged, clutching at his sweat-slicked back. He thrust almost too hard against me as he reached the end.
“Thank you,” he whispered over and over when he could speak again. He kissed my lips, my forehead, anywhere he was able to reach.
When he laid beside me, I rolled awkwardly off of the bed, wrapping the sheet around my bare body.
Nathan frowned.
“Where are you going?”
I suddenly felt cold, and oddly lonely. “The bathroom. To clean up.”
When I got to the door, he spoke. “It was good we got that out of our systems. It was probably inevitable.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. Hadn’t it meant anything to him? It didn’t have to be serious, but he had to feel something more than just relief that it was over.
Exhaling in frustration, he leaned up on his elbow. “You know it did, Carrie.”
His answer to my unspoken question should have comforted me, but it didn’t.
I shuffled to the bathroom and snapped on the light. As I stared at my suddenly tired face in the mirror, a tear slid down my cheek.
No, I don’t know. And I don’t know you, either, Nathan. I turned away from my reflection, slightly disgusted with myself.
I didn’t know him any better than I ever had.
Twenty-Two
I Left My Heart in San Francisco
Though I dreaded the fallout from our encounter, the nights that followed were too busy to be very awkward.
During my recovery, Nathan had been feeding me his blood. With nothing to replace what he’d given, he’d seriously drained himself. Combined with the marathon insomnia and the energy he’d expended with me, he could barely get out of bed the next evening.
Luckily, I was able to contact his emergency donor. A perky suburban woman, she graciously dropped off neatly labeled and dated bags of blood. The first night, he was so weak I had to hold his head up so he could drink, but he improved quickly after that.
Ziggy’s room was nearly packed up. Nathan had obviously been splitting his time between caring for me and repressing more memories. The only indication that the kid had ever lived in the apartment at all was the small collection of framed pictures on the bookcase in the living room. I rummaged through the boxes and brought out a few other items, tucking them away in places I knew Nathan would find them later. I wasn’t about to let him forget Ziggy.
Little by little, I began to learn about Nathan’s past. Not that he helped with the process. Occasionally, things would come to me in a flash of intuition from the blood he’d shared with me. That’s how I learned the photograph hidden in the closet was indeed his wedding portrait, and the woman in it was Marianne. She’d been seventeen when they’d wed, and it had been a quickly arranged affair, owing to the bundle of joy that had already been on its way. But she’d lost the baby, and subsequent others, the first sign of the tumors ravaging her organs. The feelings of guilt and desperation that blanketed those memories was too thick to see past at times.
Blood Ties Book One: The Turning Page 28