He punched the button for his floor and they rode up to just below the penthouse level where the vampire owner lived with his FBI Agent wife and their child.
Once they were inside his apartment, he led Rhiannon to a couch and sat her down. She immediately wrapped her arms around herself and hunkered down into a fetal-like position. She rocked back and forth in barely controlled movements as she attempted to regain her composure.
He walked over to a wet bar built into one side of the room and poured her a generous amount of bourbon, Ryder’s favorite. He’d grown accustomed to keeping it on hand for whenever the other vampire visited to talk about the changes in his undead life now that Ryder had a wife and child, a rare occurrence among the undead.
Only like himself, Ryder wasn’t just a vampire any more, but none of them were certain just what he was.
Returning to Rhiannon, he took a spot on the coffee table in front of her, his legs bracketing her body as he tenderly urged one hand away from the death grip she had on herself and said, “Drink.”
She resisted at first, but he pressed onward, placing the glass in her hand and wrapping his hand around hers to keep it there.
“A small sip will make you feel better so I can see how badly you’re hurt,” he said, although he suspected that the injury on her arm was nothing compared to the psychic wound from her first kill.
She finally did as he asked and took a tiny sip. Certainly not enough to either take the chill from her body or loosen the hold of the shock to her system.
“Another sip,” he urged and this time she took a more generous portion, but grimaced at the taste.
At his questioning look, she said, “I rarely drink.”
“Noted. Take off your jacket so I can get a look at your arm,” he said and popped off the table to get the first aid kit he kept in the bathroom.
When he returned, she had tossed aside the heavy leather jacket and sat there in the black T-shirt, nursing the glass and taking another small sip.
With the jacket gone, he realized the fabric of the T-shirt was tight to her body, a wise choice since it would prevent an attacker from grabbing hold of the cotton. But that also made the garment incredibly revealing as it molded itself to her generous breasts and flat midsection.
The burn of need kindled in his center, but he forced it back as he once again took a spot on the table and reached out for her arm. He inspected the four angry lines raked across her forearm. Luckily they weren’t that deep and he went to work on disinfecting the cuts, covering and wrapping them with gauze.
“Thank you,” she said as he finished, her voice a trifle steadier than before. She motioned to his side with the hand holding the glass. “What about you?”
He glanced down toward his ribs and the gouges where the vampire’s claws had bitten deep. “I’ll be fine,” he said since the healing powers of the vampire would likely close up the wounds in no time. Not to mention that he had no desire to reveal his damaged body.
“Let me see,” Rhiannon said and brushed aside his jacket to reveal the angry slashes in his side. “That looks bad. We need to take care of it.”
“Rhi, it’s fine,” he said, but she would hear none of it.
He had cared for her and she was starting to feel a little steadier. Steady enough to assist a fellow Slayer.
“Take off your jacket and shirt,” she said, command evident in her voice.
“Bossy much?” His tone was lighthearted, but as her gaze connected with his, the stormy blue of his eyes and the hints of red in his aura communicated his unease.
“Please, Ben. It’ll be fine,” she said, wanting to dispel whatever was making him uncomfortable.
He delayed for a long minute and then efficiently removed his leather jacket and set it aside, folding it carefully. Grabbing the hem of the skin-tight shirt he wore, he pulled it up and over his head. Tossed it to the floor since it was ruined.
She had thought him beautiful before, but nothing could have prepared her for her first look at his masculine perfection. Not even the crisscross of newer scars across his lean midsection or other fainter white lines from old injuries could detract from that perfection. If anything, the damage branded him a warrior. One who had won his share of battles.
She wanted to touch, oh how she wanted to touch, but she tamped down that desire and instead reached for a gauze pad so she could cleanse the fresh wounds at his side. As she dabbed disinfectant on the angry slices, he flinched.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay,” he replied and she smoothed on antiseptic ointment, noting that there were already signs of healing thanks to his vampire powers.
After she had covered the injury with a gauze pad and taped it in place, she laid her hands on her thighs to keep from touching him again.
“Thank you,” he said and placed his big hand over hers. The gesture was one of gratitude, and yet all she could think about was the rough callouses on his palm and the strength in that hand. The gentleness of it and how that hand would feel against her body.
“I should go,” she said and shot to her feet, but he rose also and their bodies crashed into each other in the narrow space between the table and the couch.
Off balance, she laid her hand on his chest for stability.
A mistake. A big mistake, she thought at the sight of her hand against that broad powerful chest.
She glanced up and her gaze collided with his. The amazing ice blue of his eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy sky.
His gaze skipped across her face, desire alive in the darkening blue, confirming that he wanted as much as she did.
He placed a hand at her waist, his grasp sure, but gentle. If she wanted to, she could break away from that hold, but God help her, she didn’t want to. Even knowing what he was and just how impossible a situation this was, she didn’t want to.
“Ben,” she said, her voice husky with need. She cupped the strong swell of his pectoral muscle and swept her thumb across his hard masculine nipple.
His rough groan vibrated through her and heat rushed to her center with that sound.
She skimmed his body with the back of her other hand, moving upward to rest it on the strong line of his shoulder.
He urged her closer, bringing their lower bodies into contact. It was impossible to ignore the long hard ridge of his erection pressing against her belly. Impossible to hold back the wave of need that swamped her.
She brushed her lips along the straight line of his jaw and whispered, “I know this is crazy, but I want you.”
God help me, but I want her, too, Benjamin thought, but as she leaned in and kissed him, his body shook as passion roused the vampire.
The demon flared to life and heat sizzled across his nerve endings.
Pain hammered his skull as his fangs shot free and his vampire senses filled with her scent and the pounding of her pulse just inches away, screaming for him to sink his teeth in and feed.
In all the months since he’d been turned, he’d never fed on a human, alive or dead. He’d satisfied his cravings for blood from blood bank bags and at a downtown vampire bar aptly named The Blood Bank, where willing humans were paid to donate blood.
But now here she was, so warm and alive. Her desire so strong, the animal in him could smell its musky scent. Feel the heat of it in her body.
A low growl escaped him and she slowly drew back to see his face.
He didn’t know what he’d expected to see on hers as she took in the sight of his fangs and his glowing neon bright gaze.
Revulsion.
Fear, possibly.
He hadn’t thought passion still, but there it was along with puzzlement.
“I want you, too, but I don’t think I can control the beast inside me. It wants a taste way too badly,” he confessed and struggled to fight the vampire waiting to be unleashed, taking several long breaths as he shut the demon back in its cage.
A slow dip of her head acknowledged his statement and his struggl
e.
“I should leave,” she said and stepped to the side for clear passage away from him, but he grabbed hold of her hand.
“You should stay. As hard as the first kill hits you, it can be even harder later.”
“Is that what happened to you after your first?” she asked and cradled his jaw.
He nodded and for emphasis, used his hands to explain how he had felt. How he still felt after a kill.
“It creeps out of your gut when you least expect it and grabs hold of your throat, choking you with fear and disgust. Making you willing to do anything to be free of the burden you bear and the stain of it on your soul.”
Her gaze locked with his, she swept her thumb across his lips in an action as potent as a kiss and nodded.
“I’ll stay.”
Chapter 5
Relief brightened the blue of his eyes to aquamarine and the coiled tension that had been in his body just moments earlier unwound, softening the hardness of his body and letting the first hint of a fangless smile spring free.
“I’ll order up some dinner. Do you have a craving for anything?” he asked and motioned for her to take a spot on the couch.
She sat, looked up at him, and said, “Whatever is easiest.”
“Four cheese pizza?”
She thought about his choice and it occurred to her that something sauce-less would also be garlic-less. “Sounds good.”
As he walked away toward the kitchen, he slipped a cell phone out of his pocket and worked on placing the order.
Now that the shock of the earlier encounter with the vampire was receding, not to mention her ill-fated attraction to Benjamin, she allowed herself the luxury of examining his home.
The furnishings were clean and contemporary. Everything was tidy and organized.
When Benjamin had first been training her, before he’d been killed and turned, she’d gotten the impression that he was someone always in control of everything around him. Apparently becoming a vampire hadn’t changed that about him. For that matter, he was still the tough, but gentle man who had first been instructing her in the ways of the Slayers.
Which made her wonder just what happened when someone was turned.
Why it was that some embraced the darkest elements of their soul while some others seemed to be able to hold onto their humanity. Not that the Slayers would acknowledge that, especially stubborn ones like Evangeline.
Across the room from her in the galley kitchen, Ben set places at a breakfast bar and opened a bottle of wine. He poured two glasses and returned to the couch. Handed her a glass.
“Thanks.” Gesturing to the room, she said, “Nice digs.”
Benjamin glanced around the space and acknowledged her compliment with a nonchalant shrug. But as much as he tried to avoid it, his mind drifted back to the downtown penthouse condo he’d had before his death. It had been nearly four times the size and filled with designer furniture and artwork courtesy of his own wise investments and the monies earned as a Slayer.
Now his home and belongings were gone, sold upon his death as Slayer laws dictated and while the Slayer Council had returned a portion of his savings to him, it was nothing compared to what he’d once possessed.
“My friend Ryder was kind enough to let me stay here until I got back on my feet and once I repaid him, I decided to stay,” he said, still finding it weird to call a vampire a friend and to find yet more compassion from them.
Rhiannon considered him over the rim of her glass. After she took a sip, she said, “Ryder Latimer? The vampire elder?”
He shrugged. “He’s not really an elder, but with his power, money, and connections, he’s earned a spot with them.”
“And he’s your friend? A vampire?” she pressed, but unlike Evangeline or any of the other Slayers, he discerned that she wasn’t condemning him, but trying to understand the why of it.
“When the Council basically ignored me, Ryder and his friends were there to help. When they needed my assistance, I was there to return the favor,” he said and took a swig of his wine.
Although it was a fine vintage, it was almost flavorless to his vampire taste buds. He had been told that with time, he might be able to savor the flavors again, much like with food.
The buzz of the intercom interrupted his musings and he walked toward the door and hit the speaker button. “Please send him up, Jason,” he said after the doorman confirmed their food had arrived.
Pizza arrived just minutes later and he carried the box over to the kitchen area and placed it on the counter.
Rhiannon grabbed the plates from the breakfast bar and handed him one. He took it, but gallantly offered her the first choice.
As the loud rumble of her stomach attested, she was hungry enough not to argue with him and dug into the pizza. She snagged two big slices and then settled down on one of the stools on the other side of the breakfast bar.
He placed a piece on his plate and joined her. Silence ensued as she scarfed down the first slice with a few quick bites.
“This is good,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye as she drank some more wine and picked up the second slice.
“I’m glad you like it.” He ate his food and drank his wine way more slowly, the activity more about trying to maintain some connection to his humanity rather than hunger. Human food provided little sustenance and if anything, in the first few weeks after he’d been turned, anything other than blood had made him feel ill.
That Rhiannon noticed something was off was confirmed by her question. “Don’t like pizza?”
It was as awkward to discuss his eating habits as it would be to have a conversation about impotency, not that he was. But if he was going to be tutoring her, it was best to get out in the open all the things that were different about him now.
“I like it, but it may not like me. Human food is iffy at times. Plus it really doesn’t provide nourishment anymore.”
Rhiannon glanced at him and considered what he hadn’t said: Only blood provided sustenance now. That made her question how often he fed and from who. It made her worry that she would have to one day consider sanctioning him if he couldn’t control himself during a feeding.
Benjamin hadn’t been one of their best Slayers for no reason. It was obvious he had picked up on her discomfort when he said, “Worried you’ll have to stake me one day?”
She dropped her half-eaten slice on her plate, her appetite suddenly gone. “You know Evangeline would relish any excuse to have you terminated,” she said and lowered her gaze, unable to meet his probing look.
He shrugged. “No surprise there. She didn’t like me much when I was human.”
He paused and dipped his head to examine her. Tucked his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin to gently urge her face upward.
“Don’t worry about me, Rhi. I handled far worse things when I was human.”
His gaze was filled with pain so strong and alive, it stirred her heart to ease it. She cradled his jaw and her eyes shimmered with tears as she said, “It’s not easy to lose people we love.”
He covered her hand with his, turned his head, and dropped a kiss there. “I know you’ve suffered loss, too.”
She nodded. “I never knew my mom. She died in childbirth. I lost my aunt when I was six and sometimes. . .” She hesitated, struggling to find the words to explain, but he understood without her saying them.
“Sometimes I can’t remember what they looked like. My mom and dad. My sisters. They’ve been gone so long. Losing them the first time was really hard, but losing them a little piece at a time as their memories fade. . . .”
Losing them like that was harder, she thought, feeling much the same way. She could only remember vague bits and pieces about her aunt. Her broad smile and the way her laugh started in her belly and erupted without restraint, full and animated. The smell of her, sugar and vanilla since she worked at a bakery during the day and would often bring home a treat for her. The love given so freely and without condition. Som
ething she’d sorely missed as she went from one foster home to another.
“I miss her,” she said with a sniffle, her heart heavy with the loss. Tired from the constant battle that had been her life.
“It’ll be okay, Rhi. Everything will be okay,” he said, picking up on her melancholy.
She nodded just to end the conversation, because if anything, everything had gotten harder because she’d let him into her heart. Not a wise move considering that at some point, they might become enemies.
He pointed to the food on her plate. “Eat up. You need your strength for tomorrow’s lessons.”
She picked up the slice and forced down the remainder of the barely warm piece. Drank more of the wine and didn’t protest when he placed another slice on her plate and poured the last of the bottle into her glass.
The combination of food and wine soon had her feeling full and sated. The combination of battling the vampire and then her emotions added tiredness to the mix. Although it was early, she wanted nothing more than to sink into bed and sleep the night away.
“Would you mind if I went to bed?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No problem. Let me help you get settled,” he said and held out his hand.
She slipped her hand into his and found comfort in how he twined his fingers with hers and gave a reassuring squeeze.
Inside his bedroom, he went to a chest of drawers and took out a T-shirt for her to use as pajamas. It would swim on her thanks to his much larger size, but she didn’t dare sleep naked around him. Too much temptation.
In the bathroom, he provided a new toothbrush and a fresh towel before they went back out to where the immense king-sized bed filled a good portion of the bedroom.
She tried not to think about what it would be like to share that bed with him tonight. Whether she could hold back from the need that had set them on fire earlier that night.
With a shy half glance, she said, “I promise not to hog the blankets.”
“I’ll be sleeping out on the couch,” he said and she shot her head up in shock, surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash with the abrupt movement.
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 132