The Bite of Silence

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The Bite of Silence Page 5

by Mary Hughes


  Concentrating, I heard voices approaching. Boys, from the snickers.

  Feet trundled up the hallway. “What’re we going to do to the old weirdo this time? Hey, I know. Let’s show him our fangs.”

  “Nothing’ll top the look on his face that first time we delivered his stupid boxes. You have to invite us in over the threshold, bleh. I nearly peed my pants laughing.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “The loon. I thought he’d have apoplexy when he realized he’d met real vampires and nobody’d believe him.”

  “Although he tastes pretty good. For a nut job.”

  Grim-faced, Nikos caught my eye and nodded. Vampires, just a little creepy and not very subtle. This explained how Aylmer found out.

  Faster than I could follow, Nikos was at the door, throwing it open. He collared the two vampires, young men by the thin, hungry look of them, and dragged them in, slamming the door shut with a kick.

  “Hey man, what do you think-”

  “Stop it, you can’t-”

  Nikos shut them up by shaking them hard. He eyed their uniforms, the eMailnXpress logos matching the boxes. “Foot soldiers,” he spat. “Who runs you?”

  “Our boss?” one of them squeaked. “You can’t tell Klaus. He’d kill us!”

  Nikos and I exchanged a glance. He tossed the young vampires sprawling to the floor. “Fine. But if I ever hear of you ‘tasting’ again-” His death glare finished the sentence more eloquently than words.

  The boys scrambled to their feet, threw open the door and dashed out.

  Nikos watched them escape. “Idiots.”

  “Kids. But if you really think Aylmer ’s okay, maybe we should put finding him on hold and get to Times Square. We know whatever Klaus has planned will happen there.”

  “Not yet. We need better intelligence.”

  Ever the general. “Well, freight bills won’t tell us anything.” The kids had dropped a couple boxes when Nikos yanked them inside, and I went to pick them up. “And since Aylmer isn’t here, who else can we ask? I can’t think he confided in anyone besides me. He didn’t have any friends.”

  Nikos followed me to the door. “Maybe a neighbor.”

  “Don’t think so.” We stared at the closed 7A across the hallway. “Although his neighbor must have heard Harold and Kumar too. I wonder what he thought of it.” I picked up a box, brought it inside.

  Nikos brought in the other and shut the door behind him. “A knot has two ends. Tell me about Bujný a Zvuk Magie.”

  “Besides their being headquartered in Eastern Europe, I don’t know that much. My job was to get Aylmer -or somebody-clearance to be their representative here. Or maybe it was as a subcontractor. We communicated in a mix of Czech, German and English and I wasn’t always sure of the nuances. It was very frustrating.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “Bujný a Zvuk Magie means Light and Sound Magic.”

  “I wish I’d had you then. You speak a bunch of different languages, don’t you? Well, in a couple thousand years, you’d have to. You’d have cut that red tape like sharp shears.” I slumped down on a pile of boxes. “I feel totally useless. Why couldn’t Nixie be here instead? She’d have done a much better job.”

  “You feel inadequate? Why?” He frowned. “You’re smart, capable and sexy as hell. Why don’t you know that?”

  “But it’s sound. Nixie’s the musician. Or tactical, then my brother Colin would help. Or-”

  “No. Your disturbance-it’s more. Personal.” He knelt before me, looked deep into my eyes. “Your family?”

  How did he figure that out? I jerked one shoulder. “Maybe. My mom, dad, sister and brother became internationally important people. I didn’t even find a job in my field.” The only time I got close to using my art degree was arranging table decorations for the mayor’s cheeseball-and-blood-sausage shindigs. “But it’s no big. I cope.”

  “Your mother and father belittle you? Your brother or sister?”

  “No.” I looked away. “Mom and dad didn’t live to see what a flop I am. And my sibs are nothing but supportive.” It came out more bitterly than I meant.

  “Twyla.” Nikos cupped my face in both hands, made me look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with your potential.”

  How nice if that were true. Maybe it even was. Of course then I was squandering that potential, an even bigger issue. I started to tug away but his iron hands stopped me. He said, “But sometimes living up to that potential needs the right circumstances. Being ready is just as good. Just as important. When the crisis comes, you’ll see.”

  “But I don’t know that, do I? I don’t know how I’ll act in a crisis, if I’ll be up to it. I can guess, but you yourself said that’s not knowing.”

  Nikos released me, saying simply, “I have faith.”

  I jumped to my feet, started pacing. “Take this crisis. What good am I? A compulsion device that works by sound waves. I don’t even have the potential to solve that puzzle. I couldn’t tell a whole note from an octave. What the hell is an octave anyway?”

  “It’s from ‘say’ to ‘see’ in the first line of ‘The Star Spangled Banner’.”

  I ran the song in my head. Felt the notes with my throat. “Ouch. That’s a leap.”

  “Yes.”

  “But see what I mean? Here’s a crisis and circumstances or fate or whatever has put one of the least appropriate people for the job in the hot seat. What if ‘circumstances’ never come together for me? What if I’m just a dud?”

  “Twyla, love. We need to go back to my hotel.”

  I stopped pacing. “Pity sex?”

  He smiled. “No. I must retrieve my patrol blade. And I think you’ll help me figure this out, but only when your thoughts aren’t blocked.”

  Wow, over a dozen words, a veritable novel for the reserved Nikos. “Blocked by what?”

  “By a belief that everyone has more to contribute than you.” He guided me out. “A mistaken belief.”

  I checked the shadows of the building for Klaus but saw nothing. As we slid into the limo, I said, “A Spartan general, out unarmed? You must feel naked.”

  “I have my public blade.”

  “Whatever that means.”

  In his hotel room, seeing the xiphos and kopis laid side by side on his dresser, I was smacked in the face with exactly what that meant. Twelve extra inches of cold steel. I swallowed. “Guess you’re serious.”

  Nikos pressed a button on the shorter one, the xiphos. The double-edged leaf-like blade retracted almost magically. He picked up the longer one, started to rub the edges with a stone. His muscles worked steadily as he honed the wickedly curved blade. “The only way to stop Klaus is to cut off his head.” He paused. “Twyla. You have the heart of a warrior. But I don’t want you to watch that.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not into overachievement.”

  He just shook his head and slid the kopis sword into its sheath in a quick, practiced motion. Setting it next to the switchblade xiphos, he turned the full force of his attention on me. “Come to bed.”

  “I thought you said no pity sex.”

  “More an exercise in confidence building.”

  “Oh, that. The mayor has us do yearly team-building exercises. I’d rather have-what are you doing?”

  He glided toward the closet, shimmering into mist as he moved. His clothes dropped to the floor. He re-formed while still moving, misting out of his clothes as easily as a man shrugs off a robe. Casually, naturally, as if he did this every night.

  Hmm. Maybe he did.

  And what was revealed-frickin’ yum. Forget Michelangelo’s sculptures. No mere artist could capture the stunning glide of lithe muscle under skin, the contrast of jet hair against ochre flesh, the gleam of intent in sable bedroom eyes as he grabbed some ties out of the closet and flowed to the bed.

  I trotted after him like a puppy.

  Nikos snapped the hold-back loops off the canopy. The curtains fell over the bed like sultry saffron promises. With a fi
nal scorching look, he disappeared in a billow of yellow.

  But I hesitated. What did he have in mind with the ties? He was, after all, a Spartan general who was a tad dominant.

  On the other hand-naked male. I climbed in after him.

  He had tied his feet and one hand to the posts and was knotting the last wrist down with his teeth.

  “What…?” I gazed at him in some alarm. His big body was spread-eagled on the silk of the comforter, and he was fully erect. Seeing him extended in all three dimensions like that, little ol’ me on my hands and knees next to him to measure against, took me way beyond guessing how big he was and smacked me in the face with enormous knowing.

  “Come Twyla. Life has given you mixed messages. You are a siren, a beauty. A strong, powerful woman. Make love to me.”

  “Make love…to you? Aren’t you supposed to be the dominant one?”

  “I am.” He purred. “But tonight you are the dominatrix. Love me, my mistress. Give me what I need with your strong, lush body. Your beautiful mind. Your indomitable spirit. Kiss me.”

  “I’m not sure-”

  “You will be.” His eyes held mine, promising satin and sin.

  I fell into those dark bedroom eyes. My arms buckled. My lips met his.

  His mouth pursed, cushioning my landing. Talk about lush. I kissed first his upper lip, then the lower. Okay, maybe I could start small. Siren, probably not. But explorer I could do, my limited field his warm mouth.

  I sucked gently at his lower lip, teased it with my tongue. He gave a satisfied sigh. His face was serene, confident. His eyes were closed, his lashes perfect onyx half-moons against his burnt sienna cheeks.

  Encouraged, I kissed the corners of his mouth. He purred. I expanded my field, kissing along the line of his carved jaw. I kissed his face piece by piece until I knew the texture of every hair and the sleek feel of every plane. I took my time, moving slowly from face to neck to strong collarbones to muscular chest. The longer I took, the darker the purr, until it was a growl.

  He arched his hips. “Love me, my mistress. Do not tease me.”

  “Tease?” I bit his nipple. His body reared off the bed. His erection grew even fatter. “I’m tasting, not teasing.” And even if I weren’t teasing, I was supposedly in charge. Which meant I could do whatever I liked to him.

  Whatever I liked. I tried the idea in my mind, found it frightening, forbidden-and oh so exciting. I licked away the sting of my bite. He groaned.

  I continued my slow journey of exploration, kissing and licking his gorgeous chest. To prove I wasn’t teasing, though, I snaked a hand around the root of his erection. Stroked up about an inch, lightly. He let out a frustrated puff of air. So I stroked down. He twitched. I set up a soft rhythm, stroking that bottom inch so lightly, over and over. Okay, maybe I was teasing, just a bit. And I loved it.

  From the deep restless groan he emitted, he enjoyed it too.

  My mouth left his chest, continued its downward journey. I think he wanted me to skip right to the hot and juicy part but the wavy ripples of his belly fascinated me. The smooth skin was the same bronze-with-undertones-of-blue as his chest. A feathering of glossy hair shadowed the center, begging to be licked. I played my tongue over warm male muscle, delighted in his taut jerks of reaction. The combination of silky smooth and crisply rough textures was fascinating. And he tasted good too. Right. He tasted oh so right.

  His erection filled until it tipped over onto his belly. The glans hit just short of his navel. My tongue ran up over the mountain ridge of it. The tip dripped glistening liqueur that tasted much more strongly of salt and male. I breathed on it. The root, still in my hand, jerked. I licked the tip lightly. His whole body jerked.

  “Twyla-” His voice sounded strangled.

  I glanced at him. His head was thrown back, exposing his strong throat. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed hard. His whole torso, neck to chest to belly, was clenched tight. “Love me. I need you now.”

  He was aroused. And I was the woman arousing him. No, more. I was driving him insane.

  It was a rush. I felt powerful, sexy. I felt-hot. I opened my mouth over his cock and drove it straight down my throat.

  He roared. His arms and legs jerked so strongly I heard the creak of bent posts. The curtains sagged around us but I barely noticed. With his erection down my throat I swallowed.

  His hips came off the bed. His pained bellow nearly deafened me. His cock erupted in spasms so strong I had to back off or drown. Semen spurted onto his belly. He didn’t seem to notice, his expression hitting nine-point-oh on the Twyla scale.

  Well damn. Maybe I was some sexy bitch.

  Finally his eruptions subsided. When his eyes opened a lifetime later they were rolling. “O Theos mou. You are an angel. A tigress. More, my mistress.”

  In my hand, his cock filled and lengthened until it was bigger than before. “But you-that’s impossible. Unnatural.”

  A small smile curved his lips. “Preternatural, perhaps. More?” His bedroom eyes trailed stardust down my body to the juncture of my thighs, leaving no doubt what he’d like more to be.

  Oh, yeah. Me, too. I swabbed off his stomach with one of the bed’s multitudes of pillows, enjoying the way his abs bunched and flattened.

  Then I tossed aside the pillow and stripped out of my clothes.

  In response his monster cock rose straight from his body, a tall and proud skyscraper. I put palms to pecs and straddled him, gingerly-at that size it was like mounting a really tall bike. His erection nudged my thigh as I mounted. I pinched his nipple. “Stop that.” Who was in charge here?

  He just smiled.

  I guided him to my vulva and locked the head in place. Returning both palms to his chest, I looked him in the eye.

  He was still smiling. With a sudden, sharp jerk, he thrust three inches inside me.

  I had to struggle against spasms of delicious response. “I said stop that.” Hooking my insteps over his thighs, I bore down with my entire weight. Probably not enough to really stop him if he chose to go all dominant on me-not even the ties could keep his monstrous strength completely subdued. Nor did I want them to. I just wanted to channel that power, and that only for now.

  He was still smiling. So I said, “Behave well, or I’m getting off.” The smile disappeared and he subsided obediently.

  I took my time sinking onto his pole, because it tortured him and because my own arousal climbed with every inch. By the time I got halfway down I was shivering and he was purring. Each inch by slow inch went in with slick fullness. By the time I felt his head nudge my cervix, I was trembling. He was growling.

  “Make yourself come.” Nikos’s hot eyes flicked down to where even I could see my clitoris, rising hard and crimson from my curls. “Do it.”

  My breath caught. “Ask nicely, and maybe I will.” I honestly didn’t think he’d ask. I didn’t think he was capable of it.

  So it really undid me when he purred, “Please, mistress. Masturbate while you sit on my cock.” His voice was deep and rough and got under my skin like psychic needles of lust. Automatically my hand went to my nub. His responding purr was so loud it rattled my bones.

  “Hey. None of that vampire coercion of yours.” I stopped my hand inches from my clit and started to get off him.

  He groaned. “Please, Twyla. Your channel is so hot I am burning. Your pearl is so swollen and red it cries to me. Ride me, mistress. Your breasts are beautiful as they bounce. Ride me while you pinch your nipples and stroke your precious pearl. Come for me, Twyla. Please.”

  I slid back onto him and, self-conscious, stroked my clit. His erection jacked up one size. I stroked again and he groaned. I started pumping my hips as I stroked again and a sound escaped his throat that in a lesser man would have been a whimper.

  That unlocked whatever reservations I felt. If I could make Nikos whimper, it was good-and I was doing it. I put one hand to my nipple and the other to my sex and stroked myself to fever pitch.

  N
ikos watched with hot eyes, his fangs growing long, his cock swelling even fatter inside me. His chest pumped up and his hands were almost white from pulling against the ties. Not to escape. No, to keep himself from moving, not wanting to distract me, his total focus on my every act.

  I could move, and I did with abandon. Seeing my arousal stoke his, I pinched my nipple and fondled my pussy and stroked myself eagerly on his fat cock. I got so turned on I forgot myself and grabbed handfuls of male chest and started to ride him hard.

  I pumped myself on him until I was panting, he was panting, and our bones were rattling. Under my hands his chest flushed with sex rash. His nipples were tight as pins.

  “Twyla…love…can’t stop. I’m coming.” He threw his head back, jaw clenched, obviously in extremes. “You’re making me come.”

  “Then come, damn it.” I clutched my pussy muscles screamingly tight and slammed myself into his body like a jackhammer.

  Roaring even louder than before, he arched back, a muscular rearing stallion, driving himself so far into me my throat hurt. I exploded just as he did, in hard waves of pleasure that nearly ripped me apart.

  Nikos cried out. “Theos-your tight sheath is milking me. I come…more…again.” He writhed under me as if dying. His face was clenched as if in agony. His hips bucked.

  I held on through it all, destroyed by my own orgasm.

  When it was over I slumped limp onto Nikos’s slick body. His heart beat hard in my ear, slowly returning to normal. I wished I could.

  Before, he was intriguing-and safe. I’d poke at him, he’d ignore me.

  Now that I’d gotten his fierce attention, though…Nikos was a conqueror, plain and simple. Hot water to the wool sweater of my ego. It was already shrunk enough.

  A deep voice rumbled against my skull. “You will like living at the apartment with me.” A big hand started rubbing my back.

  My eyes slid open. Scraps of tie decorated the bent bedposts. Nikos could have freed himself at any time. Control was an illusion. There was a lesson in that somewhere. “What apartment?”

  “Emersons’.”

  “I already like…living-I’m not moving in with you!” I sat up, pushing against the only solid surface-which happened to be his huge chest. It only proved my point. He was the kind of male who’d roll right over a woman. If I had inadequacy issues before, he’d make me feel like a bug under the Statue of Liberty. “We slept together once. A couple times. Whatever! It doesn’t mean we’re going to live together.”

 

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