“It matters not to me that you have decided to treat the city like a melted wax model and rearranged it to your dark designs.” She took a step back, unable to handle his nearness. It was as unsettling as it was alluring. “It is not for the buildings I mourn, Count Dracula. What of those who lie dead in the street?”
“Those lives shall remain spent. Humans will spawn and replenish their numbers like weeds, as is their nature.”
“I do not know how to forgive you for them. Or your callous dismissal of their meaningless part in this world.”
She drew back, but his hand caught her wrist before she could retreat any farther. He pulled her gently back toward him. He lifted her hands and removed her gloves. Carefully, he pressed her palm to his cheek. Crimson eyes closed, and he leaned into her touch. The hardness in his expression softened. “I know, Maxine.”
There was sadness in his voice. Regret. She sensed it, along with the rest of his emotions. Beneath the hunger she always felt from him, there were others flickering in the darkness. Determination and resolve. Curiosity. Grief. Then there was something strange. Something truly unexpected.
Hope.
Crimson eyes met hers, although he did not release her hand. “Yes. For the first time…in thousands of years…I have hope. And it is you who have brought it to me.”
She could do little more than whisper. “Then let me fulfill what it is you wish for. But I cannot do it while you hold this city hostage.”
“We have discussed why I will not negotiate with you for this city. We will leave, but not until my revenge on the hunters is complete. And not before you can look at me without sadness in your eyes once more.” His other hand slipped to the back of her neck, and he pulled her another step closer to him. A moment later, he kissed her forehead. He held it for a moment before stepping away and gesturing to the table, already decorated with trays of food. “Join me. Please. I do not wish you to suffer.” He paused at her incredulous look. “This has never been about torment. Not yours and not the innocents who have died, at any rate. Only the hunters should pay for their actions.”
He pulled out her seat, and she obediently took her place as he pushed it back in. She waited for him to pour them each a glass of wine and take his own chair. He gestured that she should help herself.
And so, she did. There was no need to deprive herself for the sake of her wavering morals. No one would win in that regard.
He waited until she had taken a bite out of a savory pastry before he sat back in his chair and began to speak. “You spent the day in the presence of one”—he corrected himself—“two of my dearest friends. What do you make of them?”
“They were kind. Wise. They did not deserve the fates that befell them. But I saw what they had drying on the walls around them. They have succumbed to the cruelty that was paid them and have decided to add to it.”
“Indeed. As you might find with all who serve me. My army of the damned. Shockingly few of them are vicious purely by nature. Even then, perhaps insanity could be blamed.” He shut his eyes, and a weight appeared to settle over him. Something deep and intrinsic he must carry at all hours bared itself in his features. He looked…tired. Weary.
“Then stop this. You have me, do you not? End this rampage and let us leave. Take us to the wilderness as you offered to the hunters.”
“Do you not understand the inevitability of what I am? Of what I mean to this world? The lives I have taken here in this city are nothing compared to those I leave in my wake.”
“I may have been naïve before, but no longer. But I ask you, then, what would you have me do? Look upon the river of blood you have made of the Charles and inure myself to the suffering of those you have killed to fill it? Would you have me forsake my compassion for them, my desire to see them spared? What part of my soul would you have me kill to do as you ask? Would that I could, Vlad Dracula, I would do so. I would give you a shattered piece of me to keep you company if I could rip myself asunder in such a way.”
He flinched at her words. “That is not what I desire.” He sighed. “Forgive me. You are defined by your compassion. To rid yourself of it would be to diminish that which I have come to adore. I have asked you to love me in full. To deny you the same rights is beyond even my capacity for callousness.”
“Then what would you have me do?”
“Do you love me, Maxine? Even still? And do remember our accord. We shall speak no lies to each other.”
She pushed up from the table and paced away, needing space. She put her head in her hands. “You believe that if I am to know you and choose to love you, you may find…what, exactly? Redemption? Purpose? The chance to stave off the inevitable emptiness that—”
Maxine let out a startled noise. Not because of his sudden movement—she was quite accustomed to the abrupt comings and goings of the creatures around her. It wasn’t even the noise she made that had cut off her words. The source of her interruption and her wide-eyed surprise were one and the same.
He was kissing her.
From nowhere, he had appeared and stolen her lips with his, tipping her head back to ease his approach. It took her a moment before the shock wore off and she placed her hands to his chest. She went to push him away but was reluctant to do so and stopped.
He has killed thousands in the span of only a few days. He is a monster. He will continue to destroy the world around you simply to prove a point.
But the loneliness that was eating at his soul, burning away beneath her hands, kept her in his embrace. Not only that it existed, but she could sense how much she eased that pain. Her hesitation was long enough that he draped an arm around her, pulling her tightly to him, never breaking the kiss. He knocked the legs out of her resolve in a single moment.
When he finally broke away from her, she was breathless. Her eyes had shut, and she kept them like that for a long moment before looking up at him. There was a mild, tender look on his hard features. Hardly the gloating she had expected.
“I never figured myself a weak individual,” she murmured. “Yet here I am.”
He crooked an eyebrow down at her. “Weak, how?”
“I should despise you. I should rail against all that you have done. I should condemn you for the murders you have committed. I should seek to destroy you, as the others wish me to. But…”
“But?”
She shook her head and gently pushed out of his arms. He let her go and did not do anything to stop her as she walked away from him to move back to the table. She was in need of wine. Picking up the glass, she finished the third of it that remained in one go and poured herself another from the bottle that sat on the table. She heard him chuckle, and she smiled despite herself.
“Perhaps it is my gift. My empathic disease.” She sighed and took a sip from the glass. “I can hear what echoes in your soul, and I am drawn to it. When I am near you, I cannot escape.”
“I know.”
“Stop this madness, Vlad. Stop the death and destruction.”
“No. Not until the hunters have been punished.”
She shut her eyes and hung her head. Then she had an idea. “If the mass death is not what you seek to accomplish, then let the living leave the city. Call a temporary cease of aggression. Give them a day to evacuate. Many foolish souls will stay, enough for you to adequately make your point and to feed your hungry creatures.”
“Clever.” The word was spoken close to her, and she turned to look up at him. He appeared at her side, and his hand was tracing through her hair. “Very clever indeed.” He grinned. “So quickly you learn.”
“If you wish me to judge you fairly, then…be fair.” She turned to face him, placing her glass down on the table. “Give me something to weigh on the scales across from the tragedy you are clearly able to wreak upon the world around you.”
“Am I not enough?” His voice was a playful purr as he leaned down to kiss her again.
She pulled away so she could speak, teasing him. “That remains to be seen.”
/>
He grazed his lips her cheek then wandered to her ear. “Very well. You shall have your ceasefire, clever negotiator.”
“Your friend reminded me with whom I was dealing—a warlord.”
“Hmm…dangerous words. There is little more that I have come to desire than the joy of conquest.” His breath was tepid, but warmer than it had been but moments before. She ran her hand to his neck, finding his pulse thumping beneath her touch.
There were only three things that brought a vampire’s heart to tempo. Lust for flesh, for violence, or for blood. She would hope he was not in the mood for the second of those, but the other two were likely equally matched. Her heart lodged in her throat.
She should deny him. She should push him away. She should refuse his touch. If she did, she knew he would back away. He was many things, but he was not a brute. He would not pin her down and force her. He sought to make her want him. That was his prize upon the battlefield, and he was an ancient and practiced captain.
“In the morning, the sun will rise for one day and one day only. The living will be told to leave this place. If they remain, they are fair quarry. I shall give you this, my darling Maxine Parker. But what shall you give me in return?”
Heat rushed to her face so fast that she wondered if she had burst into flame. “I…”
“Do you not desire me?” He slipped his hand to the back of hers and pressed her touch firmer into his warming skin. “Is this such a loathsome price to pay?”
She did want him. Oh, she very much did. “That is not the issue. You have laid siege to the city of Boston. You have killed thousands. Whether or not I desire you is of no importance.”
He pulled his head away from her so she could see his victorious grin. “Oh, but it is.” He stepped into her, forcing her to take one backward. She bumped into the backrest of a chair, and she was caged by the enormity of his frame and the wood object. “It is of great importance.”
“I—” She struggled to keep her voice a normal pitch. She swore at herself for how childish she was. How weak, how careless. She should be crying at his feet. Instead, she was nearly swooning each time he touched her. He was terrifying. He was exciting. The combination should not be as attractive as it was. “Am I always going to be losing debates with you?”
“Now you are cross with me.”
“No, I would simply like to prepare myself for the future, should I live that long.”
He laughed again, a real and mirthful sound. He stroked his hand over her hair. “If I have my way, you will live long enough to lose many such debates with me.” He crooked a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. His lips ghosted over hers once more. “I can be gentle. Do you fear that I will hurt you?”
Her response came out as little more than a breath. “No. But I am afraid.”
“I will not take from you that which you do not wish to give. You desire my body. You asked me not to let you die a virgin, did you not? Let me fulfill that wish.”
“You say it as if you do not stand to benefit as well,” she murmured, feeling her resolve weakening. He was everywhere around her. His touch, his emotions, his power, they wrapped around her like a cocoon. There was no escaping him.
And that made her want him even more.
“Hardly. I must confess something to you. Something I think you may already know.” He took her hand and placed it over his heart, and she felt the beating tempo. His gaze was smoldering, lidded, watching her with an intense hunger and passion. “I have loved many a soul in my long years. But never have I known anything like this. I need you, Maxine…”
17
His words echoed in her mind. She knew he meant that he needed her more than in just a physical sense. She knew he meant it far deeper than that. She had brought him hope—the first he had known in thousands of years.
Oh, how she loved him.
He kissed her. Slow and passionate, it drove all doubts from her mind. He teased her lips, urging her to reply in kind. She was helpless to fight what rose in her like a tide. Her hands were tangled in his vest, and she chased his lips with her own. He slipped his hand to cradle the back of her neck, holding her as he deepened his embrace. Soon it became more demanding—harsh and bruising. With a flick of his tongue against her lower lip, she parted for the invader and let him take her mouth the way she knew he wished to take the rest of her.
She was the spoils of war this night.
And she wanted to be.
Beneath it all was the current inside him, pulling her deeper. When she let her tension ease from her shoulders, surrendering to her own need, he let out a hungry growl in his throat.
Without warning, she was lifted into his arms. He carried her with an arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder. She squeaked at the sudden movement and threw her arms around his neck to hold on.
The world folded away on itself, and suddenly they were somewhere else. It was a dizzying transition, and now she knew why he had picked her up. If he hadn’t, she would have fallen to the ground.
It was dimly lit, but warm. She did not know where they were, precisely, but she knew the nature of the room well enough to set butterflies loose in her stomach. The enormous silk-covered bed was enough of a hint. A fire in a hearth by one wall chased away the cold and cast amber light dancing across the floor.
Fear gripped her once more, and she locked up in his arms. He chuckled at her reaction and gently placed her on her feet. Taking her hand, he led her to the edge of the bed, and he sat on it. He pulled her to stand between his knees. It was one of the first times she was taller than he was.
The gesture was purposeful. He was trying to be as unintimidating as he was capable of making himself. It mostly worked.
He leaned in and kissed her stomach over the black dress she wore. “Beautiful child…don’t be afraid.” He kissed her a second time, a few inches higher than the last, moving his way north up her body. “If you change your mind, say it.”
“I…I don’t know as I explicitly agreed to anything.”
He placed a kiss to the swell of her breast. Although it was still through her clothes, her body lit up from the simple gesture.
“You needn’t say a word.” He began to untie the laces of her dress in the back. “It is all right. I will not hurt you. There may be a brief sting, but that is all.”
“It’s not that.” Not entirely. “My gift…” Her hands went to his shoulders. She needed to hold on to something. She sensed the strength in him, and it soothed her somewhat, even if he was the source of her nervousness. “I do not know what will happen.”
“I am not concerned.”
“I might destroy you without intending to.”
“I do not know of a means by which I would rather die.” Slowly, painstakingly, he finished unlacing her dress. Hands, once cold but now warm with his beating heart, drifted carefully up her body. He took his time, each moment drawn out, each gesture with enough warning that she might be able to protest.
Instead, it left her trembling in anticipation of what he might do next.
He slid her dress down her arms and to the floor around her feet. He leaned in to kiss at her collarbone, his breath hot. She watched him, rapt, unable to look away. Unable not to feel as though every touch of his fingers and his lips sent lightning coursing through her.
His tongue ran a slow line over the exposed skin, and she moaned quietly, furtively, ashamed by it. He glanced up at her, seeing her chewing her lip shyly.
“Do not feel shame for this. Not now…not ever.”
She shivered. Goosebumps coursed over her body as her silk slip joined her dress on the floor. He leaned in and feathered kisses over her bare skin. In no rush, taking his time, he untied her undergarments. They pooled around her ankles, leaving her fully naked before him.
“So beautiful,” he purred. He ran his hands up and along her body, coursing over her.
She was trembling. She was utterly lost in his grasp. She clung to his shoulders as he captur
ed one of her nipples in his mouth, already pert from his attentions, and whimpered as he tongued the sensitive flesh. Suddenly, he bit down hard enough to sting, but not nearly enough to break the skin.
She cried out at the feel of it. Sharp, but not unpleasantly so. Far from it. It sent heat pooling in her, and she gasped at the sensation it left. When he parted from her, he rolled his tongue along the soft flesh once more.
“I will be gentle with you tonight. But that will be…worth exploring.” His voice was dark, husky, and thick with obvious desire. He wandered his lips to the other side, lest it feel neglected. His hands never stopped exploring her, caressing her, palming her. He wandered his hands down to her rear, and taking a globe in each hand, squeezed.
She squeaked, feeling his sharp nails dig into her skin. She slapped his shoulder. He laughed quietly. Looking up at her, he grinned wickedly. “What?”
She glared back at him. “I thought you said you would be gentle.”
“This is me being gentle.” He grazed her skin sinfully with his teeth. She shuddered, her anger shattering in the wake of his gesture. “Do not be afraid to touch me if you wish.”
“I…I don’t know what to do.” Shame hit her again. Not because she was standing nude before the Vampire King—that was well enough a problem on its own. No, she felt shame redoubled since she did not know how to bring him pleasure.
“Trust your instincts. Do only what you desire.”
She let her hands roam over his shoulders first, feeling the strength beneath the fabric. She then did what she had been wanting to do since she had seen him. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, combing through the silken tendrils, brushing her fingernails along his scalp.
He hummed in appreciation and tilted his head back, his eyes shutting slowly as she repeated the gesture. His hands did not stop roaming her body, but now they pulled her closer. “Yes. Touch me, my little empath.”
She ran her hands under the edge of his coat, and she silently urged him to take it off. He obeyed, shrugging out of it, then his vest, tie, and his shirt. She watched and followed his hands with her own as he worked to bare his chest to her. When it was done, she let out a breath.
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