It was enough to make my knees weak. I’d only been bitten once before, by Kent when he made me, when I didn’t know what to expect. It had felt good, sure, but there’d been a lot of fear mixed in, too. But this – it was intense pleasure mingling delightfully with the ache, tumbling over each other until I couldn’t tell if it hurt or felt heavenly. I didn’t know pain could be so . . . exciting.
She let my hand go, licking red drops from her lips and smiling up at me. I traced my fingers across that smile.
“I’d like to go,” she said, before my fingers had entirely left her mouth. “Somewhere we can be alone?”
I shivered. “All right.”
I backed her up to the elevator, pressing myself against her when she hit the doors. With one hand I smacked the button while I reached for her mouth. She opened it against mine, hungry, sliding her hands around to dig her nails into my back and pull me closer. They bit into my skin like little brands, hot and sharp. I let out another gasp against her mouth.
She chuckled. The doors slid open and she stepped backwards into the elevator, away from me. I followed her, my bitten hand throbbing, my mouth watering. The doors slid shut, sealing us in. She lifted my hand to her mouth again, put her lips to the wound there and gently sucked. My head spun with the sensations that caused. Before I could reach out to kiss her, the elevator stopped and let us out on the ground floor. I let the kiss go to follow her off the elevator. Seattle was a friendly enough town, but a vampire kissing a mortal girl until her mouth bled might cause a few double-takes.
“I thought we could go for drinks down the block,” I said, my voice dazed.
She laughed, a delighted, teasing laugh, and led me to the front doors.
“Would you like to go someplace with a little more privacy?” She squeezed my hand, which throbbed in response.
“Hell yes,” I said.
“Your place or mine?”
I hesitated. “I don’t think . . . I mean, my place isn’t . . . they might be watching.”
“Josephine should be busy for the rest of the night,” she said. “If you don’t feel safe at your place, we can go to mine.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” She grinned back up at me, then pulled me to the line of cabs outside Sebastian’s apartment building. She picked one and opened the door for me. She scooted right up beside me, her thigh pressed tight-close to mine. I had to gulp to keep my watering mouth under control.
“2112 Raintree,” she told the driver, and he pulled away from the curb.
PRACTICE
Josephine had stayed. Emily and Ian had already gone, together, against Sebastian’s advice. Ian did not understand the situation she had put herself in, but he had fulfilled his responsibility by warning her. He doubted Ian would harm the girl tonight, or even soon. But he had seen it too often. The bloodlust required tight control.
He spun with his heavy practice sword, listening to it slice the air. This inactivity grated on him. These women had covered their tracks far too well. He should have had them by now, should have ended it.
A knock on his door stopped him short.
“Yes?”
Josephine came in, slowly. Her eyes swept the darkened room once and locked on him. “I came to see if you’re all right,” she murmured, shutting the door behind herself.
He sheathed his sword, watching her. She stood still, watching him back as intently. As uneasily?
His stomach fluttered and he nearly forgot to answer her question. Such an odd emotion she caused in him. Not caution, not fear, but one of those from long ago that he had worked so hard to push away. He could almost name it . . . but not quite.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I mean, are you all right?”
“I am healthy,” he replied, not sure if that was the correct response. He thought it was something like that. Hadn’t he said –
A soft laugh, a hand smoothing the furrow of his brow.
“You’re healthy, aright, but why the frown?” a woman’s voice, familiar, murmured close in his ear.
He blinked. The practice room came back into focus, making his stomach lurch. Where had that come from? It felt like he’d lost his balance for a moment, as though a blindfold had dropped over his eyes at the same moment an earthquake began to rumble. But nothing had touched him, no one had come near . . . He looked to Josephine, who wore a frown herself now.
“Now I am worried,” she said. “What was that?”
Sebastian turned away, fist tight on the pommel of his sword. The disorientation faded, leaving him balanced, sure of his physical self, and very much in the here-and-now.
“Ghosts,” he said softly.
“Ah,” Josephine said, in such a way that he found himself turning back to her. Her face was distant.
He straightened. “Can I help you? You’ve stayed for a reason.”
Her own distant expression cleared, and she smiled as though she hadn’t been thinking of anything. “Of course. I’m concerned about the girls. Are you certain it was safe to let them go?”
“No. But the only other option is to force them to stay here, and I do not believe either would tolerate such a restriction.”
Josephine nodded softly, then looked over her shoulder as though she might see them through the walls. “I’m just worried. About all of it. Especially about Emily.”
“Ian will not hurt her,” Sebastian told her. “She is fed and in her right mind for now.”
The sigh that escaped her told him a great deal more than her words. He heard frustration in it, and longing. The danger concerned her less than Ian and Emily leaving to be alone together.
“I have to confess, I’m a little jealous,” she said, forcing a light tone. Sebastian cocked an eyebrow. He had figured that Josephine kept both Evan and Emily as lovers. He had seen such arrangements many times before and had grown to accept and expect them, even if he found them distasteful. He had thought to mention his suspicions to Ian, but relationships between humans and vampires could be complex. If Josephine did not want Emily to pursue Ian, she would have to say so herself.
Josephine looked down. “Ever since she met Ian, she’s been interested in her. Especially tonight – she wanted to know what Ian likes, what she does, how old she is, if I think she likes her, just on and on.” She gave a soft laugh and came a few steps closer, looking at him now. “I’m feeling a little left behind.” Her dark green eyes met his, her expression intent, trying to convey something to him . . . not threat, that much he could read immediately, but his mind had honed in on her words more than her body language.
On and on . . .
Josephine took another step closer, still asking him to read into what she said. “I guess I should let it go. Ian is an attractive girl, after all. And it’s not like Emily’s never taken other lovers before.” She laughed again. “I guess I stayed behind to talk with you, so I wouldn’t feel so left out.” Her voice lowered an octave.
More subtext. Sebastian ignored it, chasing the formless idea in his head. “Has Emily asked questions like that any other night? About Ian?”
Josephine paused. Her voice notched back up to her normal speaking tone. “Well, she’s been interested in her since they met . . . not exactly questions, no. Not until tonight.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. The twins. The woman whose car had been stolen.
“What is it?” Josephine asked, alarmed.
“I must go,” Sebastian said, and left the practice room.
IAN
The house that Josephine and Emily shared was in an older neighborhood, lovely old houses well-spaced with nice lawns and gardens surrounding them. The cab took us to a large two-story brick house with a double garage and a beautiful chimney curliqueing up the side.
Emily paid, then turned to me as the cab left the driveway. “Well, this is it,” she said. “Would you like to come inside for a drink?” She grinned at me.
I took her hand and t
ugged her closer. “What are we having?”
Her arms went around my waist. “Why don’t you come in and see if anything strikes your fancy?”
“Sounds good.” I bent to kiss her again, but she stepped back, holding my hand and leading me toward the house. I trailed her, hoping to get that kiss. And then some.
She unlocked the big wooden front door and pushed it open, leading me past an entryway into a beautiful but comfortable parlor. I got the impression of cozy antique couches, huge bookshelves, a thick carpet under my feet, before Emily pressed herself close to me. She closed one hand over mine. It stung when she touched it, reminding me of the feel of her teeth on my skin. Getting bitten never would have turned me on before the change. I had not been that kind of girl. As a dead girl, I discovered to my surprise that the pain was irresistible.
Emily’s fingers wove between mine, making my hand sting wonderfully. “It’s not actually mine, but it does have the advantage of privacy,” she said in a low voice.
I felt that smile growing over my face again. Nobody had come on to me like this for a long time. Well, not true, I had plenty of people come on to me like this all the time – at clubs, bars, places I hung out to feed. People who didn’t know me, didn’t know what I was, or thought I was living a lifestyle. That had been fine at first, when vampirism was still so new and I had a broken heart to work on. Not anymore.
“Yeah?” I asked, putting my arms around her.
She reached up and kissed me. I opened my mouth to her and felt her slip her tongue inside, searching out my fangs. She pressed her tongue against one, leaving the rich sweet flavor of blood lingering in my mouth. No one had ever tried foreplay with my fangs before. I had no idea how good it would feel. I sighed in delight. She chuckled.
“Haven’t been kissed like that before, have you?” she said, a little cocky.
“Hm-mm,” I rolled the taste of her blood on my tongue. It was so sweet, more than usual. I wondered what she’d eaten to make the taste so different.
“I suppose you haven’t been bitten before, either.” She ran her fingers along my wounded hand. It stung fantastically.
“Just Kent, when he changed me.”
She took my hand in hers, raising it to her mouth again. She kissed softly at the bite, nibbling at it until I whimpered, then bit me again, hard, right between my thumb and first finger.
I gasped. Her teeth felt like knives through my skin, but overlying the hurt was head-spinning pleasure, mixing with the pain until I didn’t know which was which, only that I wanted more.
She pulled me down to the floor, her hands looking for the hem of my shirt. Her fingers slipped up inside my shirt, brushing along my abdomen . . . her hands didn’t feel right. Cool. Too cool. I frowned, still kissing her.
“You’re cold,” I murmured.
“Warm me up,” she answered, and dug her nails into my back.
I didn’t need to narrow my eyes to get my pupils to dilate. I reached for her neck with my teeth, enough to scrape them along her skin, not to break it.
She found the soft inside of my elbow and bit again, finding more blood. I couldn’t resist anymore. I closed my fangs over her collar bone and pressed until I felt them slide in, letting her own blood come to me . . . and paused. I couldn’t feel her heart forcing the blood to me. It should have pulsed up to my tongue, but when I broke her skin, nothing. A little bit of blood welled to the surface where I bit and stopped.
I sat back a bit. Cold. Sweet blood. No pulse. “Did Josephine change you?”
“Not quite.” She smiled, showing her small, pointed fangs.
My mind slowed, focusing on that detail. Watching her wicked little smile and realizing I was in deep, deep trouble.
Jerk away, I thought, but before I could, she rolled and flipped me onto my back. One quick move with my legs trapped between hers. What air I did have in my lungs burst out as she landed on top of me. She grinned down at me.
“Emily?” I coughed desperately.
“No, dear Ian.” Her smile drooped a bit. “Unfortunately, I had to do away with poor Emily. She could, after all, have ruined everything. I mean, with all the blood I took from her I thought it unlikely she’d be moving anytime soon, but one can’t take chances.”
Do away with? She’s dead? Then who is this? Who is this?
Kent’s killer. She couldn’t be anyone else. But she was Emily!
Before the thought had finished I started fighting. I bucked and threw my weight against her, screamed and kicked. She just stayed on me, chuckling. I stopped, panting, watching her and trying to think, dammit, think!
“Oh, dear. I did want to fuck you first.” She traced one finger along my cheek. I tried to pull my face away, but she had me pinned too well. “It’s been so long for me. But I suppose, since you insist on being so damn observant, I’ll have to make do with what I can get.” With a sensuality that made me want to vomit, she slid one hand into my hip pocket and pulled out my cell phone. My stomach dropped as she tossed it to one side. She cocked her head at me, a half-smile on her pouty lips. It looked so much like Emily. Exactly like her.
“You know,” she said, “the funniest part is Sebastian. He thinks I’m how many people? Two at least? Maybe more?” She winked. “Surprise! Just little old me. Funny he’s never run across this trick before . . . although Kent was even funnier. He should have known better.”
And then her face came at me so fast it blurred. Razors stabbed into my throat under my chin. I heard something crunch and gagged. I hadn’t expected her to bite me, or to bite that hard, and that made it hurt worse. I tried to scream and choked instead.
Blood gushed through the rip in my neck, her mouth clamped on it. I felt her throat ripple as she swallowed. No pleasure this time, only pain.
I gasped air to scream – felt blood drip into my lungs. I couldn’t get enough air to even cough. My fingernails dug into her scalp, trying to pull her off. My Women’s Self-Defense class scrambled back into my head, my other hand reached for something, anything, and smacked into a table leg. I grabbed it and pulled, knocking the small table askew, dropping a collection of things to the floor. She growled and shook her head, ripping at my damaged throat. I paused as agony ripped through me. Kept searching. My hand landed on a paperweight. Heavy. Stone or metal. I made a fist around it and brought my hand back against her head with all the force I could find.
Her fangs left trails of fire across my throat as her head bounced away. In a flash, her mouth clamped back down on my neck. I bashed her again, hating the way my arm recoiled when I hit, desperate for her to let go. Her head bounced to the side, and I hit her again before she could recover. I rolled out from under her before she could regain her balance. Got into a crouch and watched her, ready to make a run for it.
The strange woman who looked like Emily recovered fast, got into a crouch almost before I did. And laughed. Opened her mouth so I could see red on her pink tongue. My blood smeared across her face. I wanted to run, but the door was behind her and all I could do was crouch there and hope she wouldn’t hurt me more.
But she was going to kill me.
She lunged at me, on all fours like an animal. I sprinted for the door, sure I’d be too slow.
It was locked. She had locked it. I hadn’t seen her touch anything, but the door didn’t budge just the same. She hit me from behind while I yanked on the knob. Slammed my stomach to the door, pressing me flat. It felt like being squashed by a truck. My lungs deflated in my chest.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she purred. “You liked me before.” She dragged cold fingers up the back of my neck into my hair. It felt like slime dripping onto me.
I threw my head back, aiming for her face. The back of my head slammed to a stop harder than I’d thought it would. I heard a distant crunch, saw red behind my eyelids. She yelped and jerked back, just enough that I fumbled the lock open on the door. She had me pinned again before I could fling it open. I heard a snarl and felt her hand on the back of
my head.
Shit.
She shoved. Spotlights exploded in front of me. I heard another crunch like the first, but closer, louder. First the lights, then the pain. The breath I choked in felt ragged in my nose. Broken. I writhed and gasped like a fish on land, trying to make some kind of noise, getting only that wet rattle.
Razors stabbed into the back of my neck! The nauseating sound in my chest filled my ears. She sucked and my blood gushed away from me. Hunger roared in my stomach, my face throbbed pain, my neck pulsed fire. She kept drinking.
I had my knees locked. That was why we were still standing up. I let them fold – for a second, they didn’t. Then I fell, all at once, like I had no legs at all. I heard and felt skin tear away from my neck: rip. I hit the floor trembling. The jolt made more lights explode across my vision. I kept my legs under me, and with all I had left, I jumped.
My head stopped short again, like I’d slammed straight into a wall. I tried to scream and couldn’t. More flashing pain lights blinded me. Someone screeched. Not me – I couldn’t breathe.
Her weight fell off me – I didn’t care how that happened, just so relieved to get her off. I grabbed the door, threw it open and ran. I stumbled down the brickwork steps, then gave in to gravity and jumped them. Fireworks went off behind my eyes when I hit the ground.
My boots caught the pavement and I ran. Every step sent a red jolt through my face. Found the curb by tripping over it. Didn’t notice I’d tripped until the pavement rushed my face. I screeched when I hit, a horrible gurgle that didn’t even sound human. Pain flashed, blinding me, then faded. I hauled myself up and ran, down one street, into an alley, through someone’s yard, across another street.
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