What could Jemmy want from me when I have just returned?
It was unusual for the council to summon the day after a return and the leader’s voice sent chills through him. Could he know about Nira?
Cozul, come to me.
He remained still, willing his mind to stop racing.
Have I been careless? Had Nelo said something to Jemmy?
He could not reconcile what Jemmy would want but he did not have time to consider his options. He threw the dark purple duvet from his naked form and located his robe, formulating a plan as he moved.
I will claim she escaped after feigning her death, he thought, a borderline panic increasing his heartrate. He urged himself to be calm as he left his room, heading directly for Nira’s room. He needed to tell her he was leaving.
He knocked on her door.
“Nira,” he called but she did not answer.
Cozul, you will come to me.
The hybrid could feel the anger in Jemmy’s words. He did not have a moment to spare.
“Nira,” he called again, opening the bedroom door. She was not in her bed and Cozul turned toward the stairs.
“Nira!” he yelled and before his foot hit the last step, she appeared in the foyer, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Shh!” she hissed, pressing her fingers to her lips, her face as wan as his.
“Wha -?” Her face took on distressed proportions and suddenly Cozul understood why she wore the frantic look.
Cozul, open the door, I am outside.
Time seemed to speed up and stand still at the same time. Nira stood terror-stricken as Jemmy knocked on the door once more, loud and demanding. Without speaking, Cozul grabbed Nira and opened the door to the basement. He gestured with his head for her to move and she obliged, disappearing into the black abyss without question. He quickly closed and latched the door before smoothing out his robe.
Yanking open the front entrance, he glared at Jemmy to mask his true sentiments.
“What could not wait until a decent hour of the night?” Cozul snapped at the elder. Jemmy scowled, pushing his way past him and allowing himself into the house.
“Why are you constantly in a robe when I see you?” Jemmy asked with distain.
“Why are you constantly waking me?” Cozul snapped back.
“I have been summoning you,” he told Cozul. The younger vampire shrugged indifferently.
“I have been slumbering. Did you forget I have been in the South?” Cozul asked with irritation.
Jemmy whipped his head around, his translucent eyes filled with skepticism.
“Yes,” Jemmy drawled. “About that…”
“Jemmy, please be quick about it. I have another trip to make in two lunar days. If you knew anything about this practice, you would know I need every spare ounce of energy I can muster.”
“So you can bring us another dead mortal?” Jemmy retorted.
Cozul smiled thinly, his temper beginning to flare.
“You say that as if I have a track record of bringing you dead donors,” Cozul bit back. “As I recall, it was not my succession to go this time and yet you seemed happy enough to overlook Atieno and send me again.”
“Well do not begrudge Atieno. He has gone South now also. Thanks to your inability to provide us with a suitable supply, we are down to one, depleted donor.”
Cozul hoped that Atieno would return before he was to make his next venture to the South. The last thing he needed was to be seen by a member of his own clan with the donor who supposedly died in transit. But that was concern for another time. He turned to Jemmy, his bright blue eyes glassy with annoyance.
“How many mortals has Atieno brought back dead?” Cozul challenged. “It was eight at last count, was it not?”
Jemmy clenched his jaw but suddenly his eyes shifted as he looked about the tiny foyer where they stood.
“Who else is here?” he demanded, looking at Cozul suspiciously.
“No one,” Cozul replied, furtively glancing at the basement door.
Jemmy shook his head and moved further into the house, sniffing the air like a hungry wolf.
“I smell mortal,” he told Cozul and the hybrid forced a laugh.
“This is what happens when you start making accusations too early in the day. You are tired, Jemmy. Early evening is hardly a time to make house calls.”
“No,” Jemmy insisted, his nose twitching. “I smell mortal blood in this house.”
Cozul sighed.
“At risk of sounding like a broken record, Jemmy, I have just returned from the South. It is no small wonder that I smell of mortal.”
Jemmy tried to move further into the house but Cozul blocked him.
“Jemmy, you are trying my patience now,” he growled with ferocity he did not feel. “You may not like me but I am still the best option you have for these excursions. If you have come here to ridicule me for losing one donor in a hundred years, I fear you are much pettier than I first thought.”
Jemmy paused and glowered at Cozul.
“You are insolent and ungrateful,” he told Cozul. “One day, your insubordination will be your undoing.”
Cozul grinned disarmingly and shrugged.
“It has worked for me this long,” he taunted but Jemmy’s eyes became slits.
“You will be home in seventy-two hours with a viable donor or you will be tried for unlawful practices. I know you are doing something unsavory, Cozul. You best hope I do not discover its origins because Amaia will not save you then.”
“Duly noted,” Cozul shot back, opening the door for the leader of the council to exit. Jemmy slid toward the door.
“Seventy-two hours, Cozul,” he repeated. “And know I am watching you.”
Cozul slammed the door in Jemmy’s smug face and leaned against the frame. His heart raced maniacally.
What did you do? You know they are always watching. You will be worse than dead if they ever catch you. It is too late to surrender Nira now without explaining how she came to be here alive. You will go forth with the plan but you must exercise extreme caution. For your sake…and for Nira’s.
Chapter Eleven
The door to the basement opened and Nira cautiously crept up the stairwell, listening for the other voice but she heard nothing.
“Cozul?” she whispered, terror filling her as she climbed. To her relief, he appeared, blocking the slight light on the main floor, illuminating his frame like a dangerous halo.
“Come upstairs. He has gone.”
Nira took the last two steps and hurried toward him, her pulse thudding.
“Who was that?” she asked, glancing worriedly about.
What if he is still here? She wondered. She had barely been able to make out their words through the thick walls of the basement but she could hear the tones and she recognized the tension in the conversation.
“A friend,” Cozul replied lightly but Nira could hear the stress in his tone.
“That did not sound very friendly,” she replied, approaching him. She reached up to touch his face.
“What happened?” she urged. “Does he know about me? That I’m here? That I’m alive?”
Cozul shook his head.
“No, Nira that had nothing to do with you.” He regarded her for a moment. “You did not sleep this afternoon like I told you. I can see the exhaustion in your face.”
“I tried but it took me a while to doze off and when I finally did, your ‘friend’ came knocking.”
Cozul nodded understandingly.
“You should go rest now,” he told her. She tried to argue but she suddenly realized she was leaden with fatigue. Her muscles were aching for some reason she could not fathom but she reasoned that between the travel, climate adjustments and emotional upheaval she had endured in the past forty-eight hours, she had earned a decent night’s sleep.
It may be the last one I ever get. I don’t imagine that donors sleep much during their harvesting.
“Alright, Cozul,” she agreed
, taking her hand back from his wan face. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
He nodded absently.
“Of course. Sleep well.”
Nira turned toward the stairwell, her hand resting on the bannister. On a whim, she turned back to stare at Cozul wistfully.
He seems distraught, she thought. I hope he is okay.
She realized how bizarre it was that she worried about the welfare of the being who was going to destroy her, but she could not fight the growing attraction she had toward to her immortal captor.
Something had woken her but she couldn’t be certain what it was. Perhaps it was a sound or the fact that she was not in her own bed or even her own hemisphere. Regardless, a sixth sense startled Nira from what was otherwise a dreamless sleep. She trained her ears for sounds but she heard nothing but the waves of the cove lapping at the beach, mere feet from her window. Nira lay, unmoving for a few moments, trying to gauge what was happening but all she could feel was a deep, satisfying darkness attempting to lure her back to slumber. She did not succumb to its appealing call and rose instead, peering into the hall. Two candles lit the hall, both sitting upon silver candle holders on the floor in the dimmest shadows of the corridor. For the first time, Nira realized there was no electric lighting in the house.
How modern-goth, she thought grimly, her bare feet stealing away on the cold marble tile. The house itself was an eclectic mix of yesterday and today with modern electronic gadgets, but crushed velvet lounge chaises and candlelit chandeliers. It was an anomaly, something she would never see in the South but as she glided down the few short steps toward the front of the house, she imagined that most of the immortals lived in the same fashion.
At the base of the stairs, she paused and immediately, her ears honed into the sound of seductive jazz music playing from the study. Nira’s blood began to course through her veins at record speed and for a moment, she was afraid she was going to faint. Slowly, she padded toward the closed door of the library, swallowing the lump in her throat. Without bothering to knock, she turned the lever handles and entered. Cozul was sprawled on the hearth of the fireplace atop a bearskin rug. He still wore his silk kimono and he stared blankly into the flames, a glass filled with alcohol in his hand. On the desk was a computer, gently piping out a mesmeric ballad which filled her ears and her heart with sorrow.
“Where did you find this?” Nira demanded, her voice catching in her throat. She approached him, her luminous eyes filled with tears of nostalgia. Cozul’s head jerked up and he watched her with red rimmed eyes.
Her first thought was that he had been crying but as she drew closer, she could smell the liquor in almost palpable waves flowing from him.
He gave her a lopsided smile and patted the spot next to him on the rug.
“You can find anything on the internet,” he told her as she kneeled beside him. “Including recordings of your favorite singers belting out melodies.”
Nira listened as her own voice sang of love and loss and she wondered who had put her music online.
“Would you like a drink?” Cozul offered cordially but Nira shook her head. It was clear he was agonizing over something painful and she did not know exactly how to alleviate his stress. Impulsively, she reached out and grasped his shoulders with both hands and began to squeeze. Her palms kneaded into the taut muscles of his back.
“What are you doing?” he asked but he did not pull away.
“You’re under stress,” she remarked. “The best way to ease stress is with a massage; or so I think in my non-professional opinion.”
“What makes you think I am under stress?” Cozul demanded, his back tensing under her hands. Nira smiled to herself but kept the amusement from her voice.
“For starters, you’re drunk,” she told him and he began to shake his head in denial but Nira did not allow for him to speak. “And secondly, if I were going against my tribe to harbor a blood donor in order to transport her back to the South and up north again, I would probably feel a great deal of stress also.”
Cozul relaxed against her and remained silent as another one of Nira’s songs flowed through the speakers of the laptop. Nira’s hands continued to skilfully work at the muscles in his neck and scapula, his robe falling to his waist as she massaged. She longed to press her lips against the rippling muscles of his back and suddenly, as if driven by an unseen force, her lips found their way to the spot between his neck and his shoulder. She allowed herself light kisses, expecting that he would reject her advances but to her joy, he did not flinch. More boldly, she allowed for her hands to snake around his chest and rest above his pectoral muscles, her mouth tracing hot lines with her lips against the fair skin of his back. Abruptly, he seized her neck with one powerful arm, bringing her head around so their faces were less than inches apart.
“You do not know what you have started,” he whispered at her. “If we do this, we can never go back.”
“I don’t want to go back,” she breathed back. “I want you to finish what I started.” His lips crushed onto her, stealing her breath and knocking the wind from her body. In a fluid motion, he had flipped her over, catching her easily as she landed on her back. He sat with an palm propping his head, his fingertips tracing over the simple slip she wore. As his mouth continued to explore hers, his fingers traced lines over the contours of her body, examining every crevice of her full figure thoroughly. When he finally released her throbbing lips, he continued to follow the path started by his roaming fingers, his teeth guiding the delicate silk of her slip over her shoulders and around her bosom. When his mouth found her erect nipples, she moaned slightly, the moisture between her thighs becoming a puddle of anticipation. The slip made its way down her trembling legs onto the floor where Cozul positioned himself between her knees. He stared down at her yearning expression and licked his lips, his own eyes filled with desire. He entered her smoothly, filling her solidly with his hardness. Nira gasped in shocked pleasure as he seemed to meld into every part of her. Her fingers gripped his firm buttocks and he began to slowly gain a rhythm to her writhing body beneath him. Their breaths seemed to become one as they found their lust mounting. Nira could feel her calves tensing, her climax growing near.
“Oh, please don’t stop,” she begged but her voice was not much more than a gasp as Cozul began a harder, more frenzied pounding of her, his own capstone as nigh as hers. They began to shake in unison, juices flowing hot and freely from Nira as Cozul exploded into streams of molten lava, each one more powerful than the next. Their release did not seem to ever want to end, the nectar of their passion seemingly bottomless.
After what seemed like hours, Cozul finally collapsed upon her heaving body, a sweating mass of arms and legs.
Nira slowly became aware of herself once more, the fog which had overcome her lifting away. She thought she would feel regret or remorse but she felt nothing but gratitude. She could not remember the last time anyone had made her feel so alive.
Have I ever felt so alive? She asked herself but she was certain the answer was no. She looked at Cozul, her fingers entwining with his onyx colored hair.
Oh, the irony of feeling alive at the hands of the man who is going to end your life.
Chapter Twelve
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nira asked nervously, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She seemed unable to stop smiling and Cozul regarded her pensively, something tickling at the corner of his mind.
He had only woken an hour earlier to an empty bottle of Kamaline, naked on the floor of the study. Nira had come in at some point and covered him with a blanket.
“Why did you not wake me?” he asked, dropping his head into his folded arms. His head was a foggy, incoherent haze and he realized he was still drunk from his night of drinking.
Nira shrugged, a small smile on her lips.
“You are the one who warned me about needing sleep. I figured you would definitely need to sleep longer today.”
It was black outside, not
a hint of the suns rays anywhere to be seen. He had slept a good two hours longer than he would usually. He had stumbled from the study and found Nira in the kitchen, humming happily to herself.
“Did you get any sleep?” he asked, rising unsteadily to his feet. He needed to drink but he was reluctant to pull blood in front of her.
That is ridiculous, he chided himself. She knows who you are. You do not need to hide it from her. She doesn’t care. She still stares at you with those big, beautiful eyes without judgement.
The thought filled him with bittersweet emotion. He had found someone who genuinely cared for him, despite his shortcomings and he was turning her over to the clan.
You must not think about that now, he thought. You must concentrate on how we are going to pay retribution to the snake who attacked her.
Cozul stumbled toward the fridge and opened it for his pitcher. He glanced at Nira who was eyeing him and paused.
“You must drink, Cozul,” she reassured him. “Do not hesitate on my account.”
Shame flooded through him and he withdrew the pitcher of donor blood quickly, filling a clay mug. He drank thirstily, his mind beginning to clear immediately, the effects of the alcohol overridden by the sanguine liquid in his mug.
He set down the cup and turned to Nira who placed a plate in front of him.
“What is this?” he asked in surprise.
“We call it supper in the South but I guess you would call it breakfast here,” she jested and he smiled thinly. He could not rid himself of the fact that he needed to recall something, something important.
He looked at her again, his chest tightening with emotion. Cozul cleared his throat.
“Thank you,” he told her, taking a bite of the sandwich. “We have much to discuss before we leave tomorrow. Are you prepared to talk about it?”
Nira’s eyes shadowed and Cozul watched as her body visibly stiffened.
“Yes,” she answered but he could tell she did not wish to speak of Delano.
“You say you want retribution but you have not discussed how you wish to pursue that.”
Nira closed her eyes for a moment and Cozul wondered if she was reliving the night of the attack. When she opened them again, her whites were rimmed with red.
A Secret Baby for the Vampire Page 8