Curse of Dracula

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

  “Why?” She gasped as he pressed himself against her core. She felt his desire against her. “Why now?”

  Slowly, he ground himself into her, letting out a low snarl in his throat as he did. “Seeing you there, in that place? Demanding the ghoul leave the room—comforting that pathetic wretch—with the strength to watch the horror and walk away without even a flinch…I do not know as I have ever wanted a woman more in my thousands of years than I do in this moment. You did not even shed a tear.”

  “Crying would have belittled him.” She managed to get out the words, although it was challenging. He had begun to rut against her through their clothing, teasing them both with what he wanted to do. “It would have cheapened his loss to add my pain to his.”

  “Wise girl…beautiful girl.” He hovered his lips over her cheek. His hand had finished unlacing the front of her dress and had now spread the panels wide to seek out her bare skin. She hadn’t worn a corset since the lace-up dress provided her enough support.

  Now she did not know if she was relieved or regretful that there was nothing in the way of his hand as it cupped her breast and began to squeeze and stroke the tender flesh. She gasped and bit her lip as he focused on the sensitive bud that had already begun to grow pert from his attentions. He took it between his fingers and pinched.

  She gasped and arched up into his hand, shocked at what the stinging sensation did to her. It seemed to run like lightning through her, waking everything that had been dormant. It pooled traitorously in her core. A place already under attack from the rest of him. She was under siege. Surrounded by the superior army, she did not know how long she could pretend to hold out before her walls caved to his desire.

  He lowered his head to capture her other nipple in his mouth, and she whimpered as he bit down on it. Not hard enough to break the skin, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that she writhed beneath him. Her body was seeking more of the beautiful, terrible friction with his.

  Damn her to the pits of Hell—she wanted this.

  But it all had to end.

  The cruelty had to stop. No matter how much she loved him. But if she had to tear him to pieces—an act that she knew would kill her as well, either from exertion or grief—she would do it in his arms.

  He had told her to kill him or obey him. That was not what he was asking her. It never had been. It had only been a farce, and now she could see what he was really asking her for, deep beneath the surface. She had turned her gaze from the truth of it for that she was selfish. But now she could see it plain.

  Love me enough to destroy me.

  And she loved him more than she knew how to express. She would follow him into the abyss. She would take them there together.

  Tears stung her eyes, and she bit back a sob.

  Lifting his head, he sought her lips. It was a tender kiss, filled with the answering echo of the love that beat in him. When he broke the embrace, he kissed away her tears. She knew he could hear her thoughts. She knew he understood what was to happen this night. There was no need to speak the words.

  He hovered over her for a moment, his hot breath washing against her. She gazed into those crimson eyes and saw her eternity. She saw his joy. When she pulled his soul from his chest, a part of him would dwell within her for the rest of her life. She hoped the enormity of the act would kill her.

  She wanted to live with him. And if she could not…then she would die with him.

  Lifting her head, she kissed him, hard and passionate. She needed to feel him. All of him. She needed him to take her—to show her all that he could give her. She wanted one more time in his arms that might comfort them both. She wanted the world to be simple once more. She wanted to be his victim. Not the other way around.

  He growled against her and lifted his head to find her ear. He tongued it slowly, nipping at the lobe, making her gasp and squirm again beneath him. “Mind your thoughts, Maxine.” His other hand released her breast to wander down her body, opening the rest of the dress, before beginning to unlace her undergarments. “You wish me to take you? Do you want to feel what it is to be my prey?”

  She nodded weakly.

  “Then…far be it from me to deny such a wish.”

  25

  Eddie nudged open the door of the church and looked inside. It had once been a beautiful gothic structure, he was sure. But now it was…wrong. The statues of grinning demons and lascivious creatures ravaging screaming mortals didn’t help.

  He had reached the public library, but this place had called to him. Something about it drew him inside. Something told him…she was here.

  Stepping into the large sanctuary, he quickly scanned the perimeter of the room. He was alone. Alone…except for one person, standing at the end of the center aisle. She stood at the altar, her back to the grotesque and perverted statue that hung over her head.

  Eddie’s steps hitched and froze. As did his heart. As did everything else.

  “Bella…?” He had to ask. Because for a moment, he wasn’t sure. The girl he had known had always been beautiful—but now she was radiant. Now she was like one of those paintings in a gallery. She was perfect. Her blonde hair hung down around her shoulders, free from its usual ties, and did little to help her sheer white lace dress in hiding the naked flesh underneath.

  His body stiffened and tightened instinctually. He shook his head. Succubus. It’s a trick.

  It isn’t a trick. I got like this looking at her on a Tuesday morning over breakfast.

  He sighed. “It’s true, isn’t it? What you’ve become?”

  “It is, Eddie. I’m sorry.” She smiled sadly, looking honestly regretful. “I’m sorry I never felt the same for you as you did about me.”

  “Is that why you…why you did this?” He gestured at her and had to turn sideways to keep from looking at her. To keep from feeling the pull that made him want to test all the legends he had ever heard about lust demons.

  “It wasn’t about you. It was about me for once.”

  He cringed. There was such an accusation in her words that it felt like he had been stabbed. He scratched at his chest, as if he might find an actual dagger buried there. “That’s fair. That’s fair. I deserve that. I was wrong to think I…I’m sorry if I ever acted entitled. I never meant to. I just thought that—since we were friends—that—”

  “I know…and I broke my heart that I didn’t feel the same.”

  “Do you love him? Or her? This…this thing that made you?”

  “His name is Mordecai. And yes.” She paused. “I love him. I love him very much. And he is going to be the father of my child.”

  “What?” Eddie couldn’t help but turn to her then, and he watched as she spread a hand over her stomach, petting it, although it was still flat and showed no signs of life. “You…you what?”

  “It’s how we’re made, boy.” A voice came from behind him. Eddie whirled and reflexively lifted his gun to point it at the man—demon—who had appeared. Blond hair that seemed human enough draped over one of his eyes in a sloppy, rakish trim, but the horns twisting up from within it and the purple-gray cast of his skin suggested otherwise. He was leaning against the wall casually, as if he were utterly unthreatened, a long tail swishing beside him. Silver glittered at the end of it—as it did from his lip and his ears. “To become one of us, you create one of us. I was born of a succubus and a man who was born a mortal.” He shrugged a shoulder. Purple eyes drifted from Eddie’s face down to his gun and back. “Are you going to shoot me?”

  “Really considering it, yeah.”

  “Why?” The demon Mordecai tilted his head a little. “Because you’re jealous? Or because I’m evil?”

  “Why can’t it be both?”

  Mordecai laughed, showing his sharp upper and lower canines. He pushed away from the wall and stretched. “He’s a funny one, angel. You never told me he was witty.”

  Eddie glanced over to Bella and felt his heart lodge his throat as she took a step down the aisle, white sheer l
ace dress flowing behind her and…white wings blooming from her back. They shimmered into existence, and he realized the illusion was to hide them, not to have them. The feathers were tipped in the fairest sky blue, like her eyes, and she was…so beautiful.

  “You want her,” Mordecai whispered. Eddie jolted, not having realized the demon had come so close. Mordecai wrapped a clawed hand around his gun and slowly lowered it. “You could have her. You’ll die. But you could bury yourself in that wet heat you’ve dreamed about for so long. Kiss her, love her, take her. Feed her life with your own and die happy.”

  Eddie moaned low in his throat. He was so tempted. His eyes traced back to Bella, his manhood throbbing in need. Calling out. Yes! Yes, it’s worth it. You’re going to die anyway. Better to die like this, with her, inside her.

  Mordecai’s lips were close to his ear, hot breath washing over his skin. It sent a thrill through him that was perverse, wicked and…wonderful. The image of kissing the incubus flashed through his mind, and he wondered what the ring on his lower lip would feel like. “You could have us both if you wanted. You won’t live through it—but you’ll die inside her. Just like Alfonzo would have if the Master had not stopped her.”

  “No!” Eddie reeled back, staggering away from the embrace of the incubus. He nearly dropped his gun. He clenched it tightly with both hands but didn’t raise it. “No. Stop it. Stop. I don’t—I don’t want this.”

  “Your stiff sinew says otherwise.” Mordecai pointed at the bulge Eddie knew he was sporting. “It’s not a big one, but I’m still tempted all the same. Bella wouldn’t let me have a single lick of the other one. She covets her kills already.” He grinned.

  “You…He didn’t. Alfonzo didn’t…”

  “He did.” Bella was there now, standing a few feet away, angelic wings a mockery of what he knew she really was. Or perhaps, just perhaps, all that he knew of what demons and angels were meant to be was all a lie. Maybe there was no line between them after all. “Alfonzo fucked me, Eddie. He did it because he’s always wanted to. We can’t make people do anything they don’t already want. He saved me, then put himself inside of me, and gave life to our child. He would have happily died in me, but the Master had other plans for him.”

  “You killed Elizabeth.” Mordecai growled. “I liked her. She was fun. I don’t like it when my toys are taken away.” The demon stepped toward him threateningly, but Bella put a hand on his arm, and Eddie watched as the incubus instantly caved, the tension melting from his posture as he turned to his…to Bella.

  The way they looked as they embraced—demon and angel—brought tears to Eddie’s eyes. Tears of anger. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be! It was wrong! What they were saying—it was wrong. Eddie pulled his other revolver from his holster and raised them both, one pointed at each. “I should kill you both. I should kill you!” He hated how his voice cracked. How it sounded so overwrought and broken. He knew he was crying, and he didn’t care.

  Mordecai moved to stand in front of Bella, shielding her with his body. Blazing purple eyes met his. And Eddie saw only desperation. Sadness.

  And love.

  Demons couldn’t love.

  Couldn’t they?

  “Kill us both, then, if you think you can. There is no ‘saving’ her. No ‘cure’ or psalm or prayer that can reverse what has been done. You will have to destroy all three of us, if you seek to kill the one.” Mordecai’s voice lowered and he bared his teeth. “I will protect my family to the death.”

  That word struck him to his soul. Family.

  He was meant to be her family. Not this creature. But that wasn’t how life turned out. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But it didn’t matter what was right or wrong. It only came down to one thing—love. And she didn’t love him. She loved the incubus.

  Eddie released the hammers of his revolvers and slowly lowered them. “Bella?”

  The young woman with the angel wings peeked out from behind her lover. Her husband. Her maker. Her mate. Whatever he was. Blue eyes met his, wavering and tearful. She was silent.

  “I love you, Bella,” Eddie choked out. “And—and I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

  He turned from them both, not caring if the demon ripped his head off in the process. He holstered his guns and walked toward the exit of the church.

  “Goodbye, Eddie. I’ll always remember you.”

  Sometimes that was all a man could ask. He pulled up the collar of his coat.

  Shouldering his heartbreak, he knew he would cry and drink for years over what he had lost. Assuming he lived for years, of course. Which wasn’t by any means a guarantee. But right now? Right now, he knew exactly who to blame for all this mess. Exactly who he was going to make suffer.

  Right now, he had a Vampire King to kill.

  Or he’d die trying.

  Eddie was fine either way.

  “You wish me to take you? Do you want to feel what it is to be my prey?”

  She nodded weakly.

  “Then…far be it from me to deny such a wish.”

  The cold marble against Maxine’s back was a stark contrast to the heat coming from the creature over her. She wound her fingers into his clothing and found no words to argue.

  Her choice had been made. But she wanted to feel the warlord once more. She wanted to be the lamb in the field, and have the wolf sink his fangs into her flesh. She wanted to surrender to the man and monster she loved.

  When the world disappeared around her, she shut her eyes and embraced it. When the world upended suddenly after that, she wasn’t certain for a moment what had happened, until she was lying on a soft, silk-covered surface.

  He knelt over her. She watched as he stripped her of the remainder of her clothing until she was naked before him. He shed his own clothing and draped himself over her. An arm on either side of her, caging her in, all she could see was him.

  Leaning down, he kissed her—he conquered her. It was bruising and possessive, violent and needy. He would be the creature she had come to love. She did not wish him to be gentle. She needed to feel that beautiful ache that he could bring to her.

  When he broke the kiss, she tilted her head away. Not in rejection—but to bare her throat to him. “Please,” she whispered, her hands resting on his sides.

  With that wonderfully low, inhuman growl, he lowered himself and trailed his tongue up the tendon of her neck, sensual and hot. She gasped as he wasted no time in digging his teeth into her tender flesh.

  She could make no other noise as pleasure crashed over her like a wave. Not only pleasure—but him. All consuming, all encompassing, she let it overtake her. She would die like this in his arms, and he would soon die in hers.

  And she could think of no better way to embrace the void.

  Oh, Maxine…She might feel like the conquered. But she could not fathom how he was the one broken and subjugated. He would worship her for as long as he was allowed before she broke him beneath her will.

  He would bring her to every height he knew how to reach. As he sank his fangs into her throat, she moaned and pressed her naked breasts against his chest. He hooked her knee over his arm and took her, sheathing himself in her volcanic depths, gentle and careful. He knew he was too much to take all at once without her body adjusting to him first.

  Her pleasure peaked instantly, and she writhed in abandon beneath him. The power of their embrace that spanned blood and body would threaten her consciousness, but he would keep her on the edge until he was done with her.

  Then together, they would die. He was overjoyed. His wonderful empath had surprised him once more. She could no more accept his cruelty than she could deny her love for him. And so she had chosen not to kill him or to obey him—but to do both.

  Beautiful, wonderful, brilliant thing. He wondered if God had finally forgiven him and sent him an angel of mercy. He could think of no other explanation.

  He worked his body inside hers to the shared tempo of their hearts. He was in no rush to sho
w her what he could truly do to her. She would beg him for more and weep for mercy when all was said and done, and only then would he let their lives end.

  With each thump of her heart, he pressed himself deep into her, filling her to her limits and maybe a bit beyond. The ache did not seem to bother her. It seemed to do anything but. How she arched when he let his weight settle against her. The gasping cries that left her lips were a symphony.

  When her empathic gift washed over them, he welcomed it with open arms. He invited her to twist with his own mind, to tangle together in all ways. He sensed her love for him, and he answered it proudly with his own.

  And now, even their souls were one.

  He did not think she had lied to him, but to feel her love now, burning away beside his own dark flame, he rejoiced. He would have wept in joy if he were not already quite occupied. He drank slowly from her, feeling her lifeblood seep into him, chasing away the cold.

  You are mine, Maxine Parker. You are mine…and I am yours.

  When she peaked again around him and beneath him, crying out and grasping him like a raft in the tumbling sea, he nearly joined her. Their ecstasy was echoing back and forth between them like the fire of a lighthouse prism. It took all his restraint to keep himself under control. She challenged him in ways he could not have ever predicted.

  And he adored every second of it.

  And seconds was all they had left, after all.

  He might as well make them count.

  Oh, how Maxine’s body sang for him. Every nerve on fire, it was like bliss. Her mind was already tangled with his, their emotions blurring into one, their pleasure shared between them, echoing and reflecting, indistinguishable. Never once had she believed anything could feel like this.

  She should have been in agony with how he was loving her like the inhuman creature that he was. Perhaps she should have been a weeping thing, begging for mercy as he unleashed himself on her. It might have been his pleasure, his ecstasy, that drove such things out of her mind. Or perhaps it was her own bliss that was the source of her enjoyment.