Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I

by Naylor, Joleene

  Jorick cut her off with a gesture. “Enough of this, Kateesha! I did not come to discuss my life choices with you. I think that she should be moved. We’ll no longer have Oren's inside information. Elsa won’t risk telling him anything now. She may have had a soft spot for Michael, but in the end she’s loyal to Claudius.” He leveled his gaze with her and squeezed Katelina's hand reassuringly.

  “Yes,” Kateesha murmured. “Had she chosen to turn him herself then perhaps she’d have more loyalty, but we must do the best with what we have now.” Amusement shimmered in her eyes. “It’s ironic though, is it not? Had Claudius not forced her to make Michael her fledgling she’d have never helped us at all.”

  “Yes,” Jorick agreed. “But she’s made it clear she’s done. Michael is dead now and though she swore not to betray Oren’s involvement she won’t give him any more information. I’d have suspected that she later changed her mind and betrayed us except that the Executioners came too quickly. Oren met with her the night before their arrival and as of that time she had not betrayed him.”

  Kateesha nodded. “She has always been truthful with us, for the most part. I assume she didn’t say who told Claudius?”

  “No,” Jorick answered. “She obviously didn’t know about it or I believe she’d have mentioned it.”

  “If Claudius knows of your involvement and Oren’s, then I wonder who else’s he knows about?”

  “Are you suddenly afraid of him?”

  Kateesha laughed. “Hardly. You misunderstand, my brother. I only wonder whose names he gave to The Guild.”

  The dark skinned Goddess fell silent and began pacing again while Katelina took some time to clear her head and tried to make sense of all she’d just heard. Her mind whirled, trying to figure out who Kateesha even was and how she and Jorick knew one another.

  Kateesha spoke suddenly, “No, I think it’s fine where it is.” She stopped pacing and stood with her hands clasped behind her back. “There’s no way anyone can know its location – not yet.”

  Jorick’s dark brows drew together impatiently. “What’s to stop me from moving it myself?”

  “If you were to do that, it would make things look very, very bad for you, Jorick.” She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Someone betrayed Oren to Claudius, after all. If you were to do that he might think it was you. And since he lost his wife in the deal, I don’t doubt he’d be happy to help with a little eye-for-an-eye retribution, if you take my meaning.” As if to be absolutely sure her point was made she let her eyes linger on Katelina.

  “Mmmmmmm,” Jorick murmured. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “That's a shame, but if you prefer imperfect flesh for your pleasure, who am I to question you?” She came closer and stopped near enough to touch him. “If you change your mind, you always know where to find me.”

  “Of course, but my mind hasn’t changed in all these slow centuries, and I don't think it will anytime soon.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and dragged Katelina after him, leaving Kateesha behind. Her answer came regardless, in the form of cold laughter that echoed all around them as they retreated through the darkness.

  After the strange silence in the warehouse, the car seemed too loud. Jorick's anger was palpable; the air seemed to pulse with it. Katelina didn’t know what to say to make it better. She stuttered a question, “Oren wouldn’t really…” but couldn’t bring herself to finish it. Would Oren really kill her because his wife had been killed? As if it was all Jorick’s fault.

  “No,” Jorick said the word with force. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  She nodded but found no more words for fear of enraging him more. She wasn’t afraid that he’d hurt her, or even be mean to her. In truth she wasn't sure what she was afraid of, but she didn’t want to make him any angrier.

  They pulled into the motel and, after parking the car, walked around behind the building to their windowless room. Once they were inside, Jorick shut the door tightly and clicked all of the locks into place. He absently ran his fingers through his long, dark hair before he threw himself on the bed where he crossed his arms beneath his head and stared at the ceiling.

  Katelina stood uncomfortably near the foot of the bed, unsure what to say. There were questions she wanted answers to, but she wasn’t sure how to ask them.

  He sighed heavily and his eyes moved from the stained ceiling above his head to her anxious face. He studied her pale features and pulled one arm loose to pat the bed beside him. “Come here.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then mentally gave herself a shove and walked towards him slowly. “Yes?” She swallowed, and reminded herself quickly of her earlier resolve not to fall into those eyes again.

  “Here,” he whispered the word so that it seem almost like a caress and patted the bed again.

  She forced a ball of nervous air down her throat and climbed slowly onto the bed until she was sitting next to him. Her hands suddenly absorbed her interest as she tried to force all thoughts from her mind, especially the ones about how close he was to her.

  He gently cupped her face and turned it towards him. “You don’t need to be afraid,” he said gently. “My anger isn’t with you.”

  His raven hair fanned out on the pillow, thick and shimmery like some exotic silk. His dark eyes were trained on her, his smooth skin as flawless as marble. She nodded, like a child confronted with their first glamorous idol; lost and star gazing at something more beautiful than she could ever hope to be.

  He raised himself up on one elbow. “Even if it were, I wouldn’t hurt you.” His face was suddenly very close to hers so that his breath brushed her skin.

  She managed a nod in return and tried desperately not to notice him; not to notice the feel of his hands or the warmth of his breath or the nearness of his well-muscled body. But her attempts at ignoring him failed and she found herself staring into the dark pools of his eyes, lost in endless lakes of onyx. He leaned closer, though she was unaware of it until she felt his lips against hers, soft like warm rose petals. What little resolve she had vaporized, and she leaned towards him. She slid her arms around the base of his neck and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss as a low moan slipped from her throat.

  He gently caressed the back of her neck and made goose bumps race along her spine. His other hand slid gently down her arm and her flesh responded as though her shirt didn’t separate his touch from her. He seemed to flow against her – his hands caressing her, his lips tasting her, his body a warm blanket pressing her down into the bed, where she went willingly. She snaked her arms around his back and slid her hands under his shirt to find his smooth skin hot to her touch.

  Her heart hammered in her chest and the memory of her dreams came back to her; fresh and hot like the moment she found herself enveloped in. A tiny part of her mind was telling her to stop. It tried to remind her of the horrible things she’d seen and the dark secrets she’d already learned and yearned to hide from, but somehow its persistent buzz was nothing more than the sound of a fly in her ear.

  His lips left hers and slid down in a soft, moist trail across her face to her neck. He stopped to taste the hollow beneath her jaw and she moaned. Her body rose to meet his. She pressed herself against his warmth and felt his strength pressing back.

  She slid her hands and down the length of his back, then over his torso and delighted in the moan that escaped his lips.

  He leaned up, and pulled at her shirt until she had no choice but to let him slide it over her head. He dropped it to the floor. Her eyes followed it and the nagging voice in her head grew loud and clear as she studied the shirt puddled against the ugly carpet. Don’t you know what he is? What do you think you’re doing?

  The voice was silenced when his hands moved across her bare stomach. She met his dark eyes as he cupped her breasts. A soft smile played on his lips as he gently kneaded them. His intense gaze made her blush, so she closed her eyes and let herself drift away, enjoying
his touch. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this, or at least it seemed so long.

  The thoughts disappeared as he brushed his lips across her tender skin. She gasped and held his head in place, her fingers twining in the long dark silk of his hair as he teased her. She arched her back to press herself deeper into the recesses of his mouth, taken over by the burning need to feel him.

  She untwined her hands and tugged at his shirt. She needed to feel his naked flesh against her; to touch him. He stopped, and leaned back again to quickly peel the clothing off and toss it to the floor where it landed in a tangle with hers.

  He quickly returned to her open arms. She pulled him tightly to her. His hot, muscular chest pressed against her. A shudder of delight ran through her as his mouth sought her naked shoulders and traced a trail of kisses along them.

  He soon peeled away all her clothes so she lay beneath him completely naked. His hands seemed to be everywhere at the same time, liquid pleasure drowning out her thoughts until there was nothing but her longing for him, her ache to have him, to feel him surrounding her until there was nothing left in the world but him. No nightmares, no fear, no death. Just him, and her and waves of pleasure.

  She forced him back, and tugged at his pants. He helped her and leaned back on his knees to discard the last of his raiment. Her eyes raked his naked body and she found herself staring at a pale expanse of male perfection that made her chest ache.

  He didn’t give her long to contemplate his well sculpted form before he was back, his lips on her skin, his body gently pressing between her thighs. She opened herself to him willingly. Her knees gripped his waist and her hands found his broad shoulders. She gasped and tightened her hold on him as he slid into position. The tiny part of her brain that had been buzzing earlier gave a single shout, trying to get her attention, to tell her that it was almost too late, but it was drowned out as he entered her, possessing her and filling her.

  She moved beneath him, her body rocking in time to his, her eyes half closed. Waves of pleasure radiated through her. She gripped him tightly and could feel his muscles moving beneath his skin as he thrust again and again. He lay flat against her, his lips suckled her neck and his tongue licked her smooth skin. She moaned and tilted her head back, letting him have more. Then the pain came for just an instant; almost like a pin prick. As it faded, it was replaced by something she’d never felt before. It was as though he were everywhere at once, both inside and out, surrounding her in rapture until she could only make tiny whimpering sounds. Images flashed behind her closed eyelids, too fast to comprehend or understand and feeling after feeling rolled over her, all wrapped beneath a thick blanket of ecstasy. She started to think that her brain might not be able to handle it, that she would die from the pure pleasure.

  She could never say how long it lasted. It might have been a moment or an hour, but in a sudden heated rush it was over, and she lay panting, her mind wrapped in a fog of endorphins.

  He released her but he stayed where he was, his head bowed. Finally, he slid off, and dropped next to her in the bed. Wordlessly, he gathered her up in his arms and pulled her to him. He buried his face in her hair. The long blonde strands mingled with his raven tresses as he nuzzled her neck, and murmured things too quiet for her to really hear. He gently brushed her hair away from her face and traced the contour of her cheek with his fingertips, his breath still heavy and ragged.

  She turned her head toward him, seeking his face, but found only his dark hair. He held her so tightly that she could feel his heart pounding in her chest. It left her unable to distinguish which beats of the intertwined rhythm belonged to her. She swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to calm her erratic breaths. The quiet buzzing in her mind was muttering the word regret, but it didn’t register. Did she regret what had just happened? Would she regret it tomorrow?

  He loosened his hold on her and pulled back to study her, a soft smile on his perfect lips. As she gazed into his black eyes she decided that nothing mattered but the warmth reflected in their depths and that regret was something to think about in the morning.

  **********

  Chapter Seventeen

  Katelina woke. She blinked in the dimness, her eyes drawn to the open bathroom door. Light flooded out of it and gave shape and depth to the small motel room.

  Jorick was still next to her on his back, his arm under her head. His dark lashes lay on his pale cheeks and his raven hair pooled against the crisp white pillowcase. He was covered from the waist down in the ugly bedspread and the bathroom light gleamed on the smooth expanse of his chest.

  She looked away from him to the water stained ceiling. She closed her eyes tightly to blot out the world and asked herself the requisite “what have I done?” morning – after question, only she truthfully felt no regret. It was simply a game she played out of habit, a society imposed guilt complex that failed to actually make her feel guilty. No, she knew what she’d done and she wasn’t even slightly sorry, only vaguely excited at the warm memories.

  She rolled towards him and tentatively brushed his naked flesh with her fingertips. His skin was cold to the touch, like it had been in the bathtub, and she pulled her hand away quickly as if it burned. Implications rose in her head, but she forced them away and slid out of the bed. She paused to gather up her clothes and her sack before she hurried to the bathroom, the parcels held like a shield against the chilly air.

  She remained tense until the door was shut, and only then did she drop the clothes to the floor. Her flight might seem stupid, but she’d never been comfortable with anyone seeing her naked. Most of her ex–boyfriends had laughed at her over her modesty, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  She turned the shower on and, as the steam began to billow, she glanced in the mirror. Her eyes caught something above her collar bone and she leaned closer to examine it. Sure enough, in the curve of her neck where Jorick had marked her was a fresh set of neat bite marks, exactly over the top of the old ones.

  Her hand went to it unconsciously and she wondered if that was the point of the mark. Was it proof that you‘d shared their most intimate embrace? Is that why you belonged to them; their human “property”? Was that why Oren had found it distasteful? She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea. And she wondered, if he’d bitten her, had he also taken blood from her? She recalled the overwhelming sensations: the images, the feelings, the waves of intoxicating pleasure that had been like no other. Was that what had caused it? Was it like something from a low budget, R rated movie where vampire bites were so orgasmic that girls would strip naked for no reason? But, she argued with herself, Jesslynn had bitten her, as had that vampire in the cellar, and there was no pleasure, just pain.

  She dismissed her query and climbed into the shower. She let the hot water run over her and wash away her fears and doubts. She reminded herself that Jorick had never done anything to hurt her. His only fault had been the omission of a few facts, and though that angered her it hadn’t really put her in danger. Well, not completely. Then again, memories of the vampire manor made her question her theory.

  Katelina finished her shower and dressed quickly. With relish, she retrieved her hair brush from the bag and ran the bristles through her wet, tangled hair. Things were almost normal. Almost.

  The door opened and she looked up quickly to see Jorick. He leaned casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and gazed at her lazily from half closed eyes. When he offered no explanation she asked, “Yes?”

  “Nothing.” He smiled broadly so that his fangs glimmered in the bright light. “Just looking at you.” He continued to gaze in silence until her raised brows prompted him to laugh. “All right, all right. I'm going to go get you some food, but I have a meeting, so it’ll take a little longer than usual.”

  She kept her voice casual. “A meeting with who?”

  “It doesn't matter,” he answered airily. Then, his face hardened. “I’m not taking you with me today.”

>   She snapped her head around to face him and began her argument, “But – ”

  “No,” he cut her off and shook his head firmly. “Not today. I want you to stay here,” he paused before specifying, “ – in this room. Do you understand?”

  An unreasonable rage flared up in her and an unfamiliar voice inside her head hissed: He’s going to meet Kateesha alone to take her up on her offer, because now that he’s had you he’s disappointed.

  “Oh, I understand perfectly,” she snapped. The fury nearly blinded her, but she kept it in check as he kissed her deeply then left, calling back for her to lock the door.

  Her hands shook with rage as she exited the bathroom and did as he requested. She dropped on the foot of the unmade bed and turned on the TV. Brightly colored images flashed past but she couldn’t comprehend or concentrate on them. The hissing tones in her head were growing louder, drowning out the too–happy voices on the television. They told her again that Jorick was going to see her. He’d pretended not to want her yesterday because Katelina had been there, but today he’d be alone with her. He’s left the key to the other room on the dresser.

  Shocked, she looked up as this last thought bellowed through her mind, completely unbidden and unlooked for. Her eyes snapped to the dresser and sure enough, the key lay there. Its yellow plastic tag bore the room number 622.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she had the key in her hand. “No,” she told herself and started to put it back. This wasn’t a good idea. What if Arowenia wasn’t restrained? How could she possibly hope to defeat a vampiress? She was no match for their strength. Besides, why would she want to go there? Jorick was meeting someone; he wasn’t in Arowenia’s room.

  But the voice had an answer for her: maybe that was where he’s really gone, maybe Arowenia is his lover. The words shocked her, but she mulled them over. Perhaps Arowenia had run away with Jorick. After all, Oren had spoken of some secret motive behind everything. Maybe Jorick was in that room right now, making love to Arowenia and laughing at the stupid human.