by Rachel Lee
She didn’t want to sit up, to leave the comforting pillow of his lap, but the need to look around for reassurance took charge. She pushed up until she sat and scanned the room. Everything looked the same. So she closed her eyes and reached out with her other senses.
“It passed Jude’s wards.” The thought scared her.
“Mostly likely because we disturbed them with our comings and goings. If you want, I’ll get out the chrism he left here and restore them. We’ll have to before the ceremony regardless.”
“But you’d have to leave the circle to do that.”
“Yes.”
Her heart squeezed and her chest tightened as she remembered what that thing had tried to do to her on the street earlier. “No. I don’t want you to take that chance. Tell me if I’m wrong, but if you cross that circle, the elemental can get at you.”
“I’m not worried about that. I am worried if I break the circle the elemental might be able to get at you.”
“This is a fine kettle of fish,” she said acidly. “We’re trapped in a circle of salt.”
“Not indefinitely. If the elemental doesn’t withdraw as daylight approaches, I’ll get Jude over here to do some more warding of his own. He’s already outside the circle, so he won’t expose you.”
She leaned forward, sensing that thing just beyond the circle. “Why the hell is it trying so hard now? It must know I can’t do a thing about it.”
“You’d have to ask the bokor, and since we still haven’t found him—or her—that question will have to wait. For whatever reason, you personally became a target. And now the bokor knows you’ve been pushing the elemental back. Whatever his goal, he seems determined to deal with you.”
“I feel like I keep running around the same maypole, never getting any real answers.”
He half smiled. “I agree. It’s becoming a very familiar maypole. If Jude doesn’t find the bokor tonight, we’ll certainly find him once we enhance our powers.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Because when I’m in that state I’ve always been able to follow the flow of an energy to its source.”
“Really? And you didn’t bother to mention this sooner? Like days ago?”
He eyed her skeptically. “And what would you have said days ago if I had suggested this ceremony? I think I’d have been lucky to escape with my head still on my shoulders.”
She frowned, knowing he was right. “And you can’t just have your ceremony with someone else?”
“It does me little good if I meld my power with the powerless. You have power, Caro. You know that now. We’ll build on it for both of us. We’ll both become much stronger.”
“I admit I don’t really get how this works.”
“I’m not exactly an expert on the how or why. I just know it works. Just as you know you’re alive and you breathe, I know how to enhance my powers. And yours. I’ve told you before, there are mysteries. Not everything has a specific answer.
“I like answers,” she admitted.
“I have none. Mysteries all.”
“I guess human life is a mystery, too, when you come right down to it.”
“All the chemicals and atoms don’t add up to the mind or soul,” he agreed.
She cocked a brow at him. “Do you think you still have a soul?”
“My old tradition held that I do. Who knows what others would think these days. I shall assume I do until proven otherwise.”
At that she grinned. “I can agree with that.” Then on impulse, she swung around until she straddled his lap, facing him. She liked the look of astonishment on his face. “You told me to be a free spirit.”
A laugh escaped him, dying as she wiggled until his manhood was nestled against the most sensitive part of her womanhood. She felt him hardening against her and savored the sensation.
“So,” she asked, being deliberately provocative, “just how limited are we because of this upcoming rite?”
“Perhaps not as limited as you might think, Schatz.” His voice almost sounded like a huge cat purring. “You’re feeling better.”
“Maybe I’m ready for the ceremony.” Even as she said it, the butterflies resumed flapping in her stomach. It was amazing how nervous about it she was while still wanting it so much.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Your heat patterns aren’t fully recovered.”
“You see my aura?”
“Only your body heat. It’s not quite the same. I can still detect some coldness in you. But maybe we can do something about that.”
She did like the sound of that.
His mouth sought hers hungrily. He knew her mouth now, knew just how to slip his tongue around hers to draw an eager shiver from her. He learned fast, she thought dimly. Very fast.
And he used what he had learned. His tongue mated with hers, finding delicate nerve endings and taunting them in a parody of union, causing her body to rock against him in time with the rhythm he set. The ache he always awakened in her with such ease blossomed to full force almost instantly.
Then he slipped his cool hands up under her sweater, finding the bare skin of her midriff and stroking it lightly, teasingly, hinting at more delights to come, but withholding them. This time when she put her arms around his shoulders, trying to bring him closer, he didn’t react like a scalded cat. Instead he deepened his kiss, depriving her of breath, encouraging her to madness.
He must have moved with lightning speed, because she felt her breasts spill free of the confinement of her bra. She dragged her head back to gasp for air, then he claimed her mouth again.
He cupped the weight of her breasts, almost as if testing, then began to brush his thumbs over her nipples. Back and forth, in time with his plundering tongue until she felt as if a fiery arc ran from her mouth to her nipples.
She pressed her hips harder against him, needing stronger touches down there, and a jolt went through her as he arched upward, answering her search for one long, exquisite moment.
His mouth left hers and trailed to the shell of her ear, his cool breath whispering against her cheek and then into her ear until new spasms ripped through her. He ran his tongue around the outside of her ear, teasing, then tucked it inside, setting off new sparks.
Her head fell backward so that her breasts arched into his hands. His thumbs continued to play lightly over her aching nipples, building her needs with every touch.
Then, a jolt so strong that she cried out ran through her as he caught her nipples and pinched them, at first gently, then harder.
She became a slave to desire, right then. Pain and pleasure melded so exquisitely they left her helpless. He was teaching her new things about herself and she was loving it.
The hard clenching throb that gripped her between her legs drove her nearly insane. She became raw need. She dampened until she could feel her own wetness, and it just made her hungrier.
And still he tormented her, driving her ever higher up the steep slope of passion, never giving her all that her body demanded. She felt strung like a bow, drawn and ready to release the arrow, but he kept her there, in a torture so divine she never wanted it to end.
Then cool air whispered over her skin, and the next thing she knew, his mouth had clamped to her breast, sucking strongly. A deep groan escaped her, and she released his shoulders, feeling with her hands for any part of him so that she could return at least some of what he was giving her.
But he caught her wrists and stilled her exploration while he continued to lick and suck first one breast and then the other. She felt her breasts grow heavy, her labia engorging until the merest touch, the merest whisper of sensation grew acute.
Just at the instant when she felt she could take no more of this exquisite torture, he released her wrists, seized her hips with his hands and drew her hard against his staff.
That was all it took. A cry left her lips, winging toward the moon as she reached the crest in an orgasm so intense it hurt.
Then slowly, her body still thro
bbing, she collapsed against him and felt his arms wrap around her, holding her close.
* * *
A long time later, she found enough voice and breath to murmur, “That was incredible.”
“It was,” he agreed.
“But you. I didn’t do anything for you.”
“You did, Schatz. I drank from you. Your experience was fully mine.”
Lingering weakness wouldn’t allow her to raise her head to look at him. “Really?”
“Really. It’s one of a vampire’s blessings.”
“Awesome.”
“It is,” he agreed, sounding a little amused. But not entirely amused. There was tension in that tone somewhere, and she’d learned him well enough to hear it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“We didn’t ruin the ceremony, did we?”
“I wouldn’t have done anything that might do that.”
She believed him and contentedly let her head remain on his shoulder. Well, she believed him about not ruining the ceremony. But she was also good at reading voices, especially when they were concealing something.
Her brain cells felt as if they had scattered to the four corners of the universe, so she waited a few minutes, collecting them, trying to clear the hazy fog of completion out of her overly contented mind.
“Something’s bothering you,” she said. “I could hear it in your voice.”
“Frankly, mein Schatz, I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Not really. The intensity was...breathtaking.”
“It certainly was.” Then a thought struck her. “You’re worried about claiming me.”
“After that, I’d be a fool not to.”
“Should I move? Go away?”
“No,” he said forcefully. “No.”
So she remained, straddling his hips, her head on his shoulder.
“Your warmth feels so good to me,” he murmured. “It’s such a gift you can’t imagine it.”
“Then enjoy it. It must be awful not to feel warm.”
“It’s not awful. I don’t really notice it. It’s not like I lack something. It’s just so pleasurable when I can feel it.”
She tried to imagine but failed. Then her thoughts wandered in a different direction. “Why did you have to become a vampire?”
“I didn’t have to,” he corrected gently. “I was asked to.”
“But why?”
“Near immortality and some impressive powers. Every religion wants to impress its followers, and having a priest who never aged, outlived all the others and could perform some amazing physical feats was useful.”
“But just one?”
“There were several of us at different locations.”
“Are the others still around?”
“I’m one of the last, unless there’s something I don’t know. Sometimes my kind weary of existence. And we do age, albeit slowly. There is, I believe, one older than I, far older, but if she still exists she keeps entirely to herself. Some suspect she may have given rise to the legends of Lilith, but I really don’t know.”
“It would be fascinating to find out.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. With my kind, one must be leery of intruding on territories. We’re terribly territorial.”
“Then how do you and Jude get along?”
“Some of us manage. For a while. There are presently four vampires in this city. Jude knows us all, but how many have you met? Even when we feel friendship, we don’t form tight-knit groups.” He paused. “I know the others, of course. But it’s not like we hang out together, unless there’s a good reason.”
She liked how he sometimes sounded so formal when he spoke, while at other times he spoke slang with ease. “Are there other vampires where you live? Cologne?”
“Only me.”
“That has to be lonely.”
“I’ve never really noticed. It’s just the way it is.”
She wondered if she would be able to stand that, then wondered why she was even asking herself. Maybe something changed when you became a vampire, but since that wasn’t on her current list of options there was really no point in thinking about it.
This vampire, the one whose lap she straddled, did seem to be enjoying companionship, though. Enough pondering, she decided. As he said, there were mysteries, not the least of them the way she responded to him.
She closed her eyes and just decided to savor the moment. Tomorrow night would come soon enough.
Chapter 12
The next night brought some news that shook them all up. There had been another inexplicable death.
Just as Jude was getting ready to join Damien and Caro so that he could ward her apartment once again, Chloe stopped them.
“Another guy associated with Pritchett is dead,” she said. “Apparently he was part of the board of directors for the Pritchett business. It’s all over the news tonight, but not because of the connection.”
“Was killed?” Jude asked.
“Let me call Pat,” Caro said. “Maybe she knows something.”
“Terri might be on the scene, too,” Jude remarked. “You call Pat. If you don’t get anything, I’ll call Terri.”
Pat answered her phone on the first ring. “Matthews, Robbery-Homicide.”
“Pat, it’s Caro. We just heard one of Pritchett’s business associates is dead.”
Pat fell silent a moment. “It’s true,” she said finally. “But there’s not a mark on the body. The M.E. is going to have to figure out this one. He was walking into a restaurant with his wife when he collapsed on the street. It could be anything. Absolutely no evidence of foul play, so the case will probably be closed if the M.E. doesn’t find something suspicious. Are you doing all right? The captain is starting to make noises about bringing you back.”
“I’m doing fine and I’m not ready to come back. You tell me, Pat. Do you think this is all unrelated?”
“Coincidence is always possible, but my hackles are saying otherwise. And you didn’t just hear me say that.”
“It won’t pass my lips.”
“Then I’m going to tell you another thing that won’t pass your lips. We found a bookstore owner dead yesterday. And guess whose business card was on her desk.”
Caro froze. “Jenny Besom is dead?” She saw Damien stiffen.
“Apparent heart attack. But pardon me if I find the presence of Messenger’s card there too coincidental. You tell him he may get a visit, although probably not. Cause looks natural. And I’m not going to ask another thing. I need to stay clear of this crazy shit. You know that. Keep your nose clean.”
When she disconnected, Caro relayed the information. Jude immediately pulled out his own phone to call Terri. He hung up not two minutes later. “Too early to tell about the guy, but Besom appears to be an ordinary heart attack.”
Caro, however, had gone into investigator mode. She looked at Chloe. “Did the board say anything yesterday or today about continuing with the demolitions, with Pritchett’s plans?”
“Let me look.” Chloe bent to her computer, tapping rapidly.
Caro looked at Damien. “You said Jenny Besom was being prevented from telling you something.”
He nodded.
“Well, she must have known something, then. We’re running out of time, Damien. I was afraid of this.”
“I know you were, but yesterday you were too weak.”
“Too weak for what?” Chloe asked without looking up. No one answered her.
“I don’t care how awful these men’s plans may seem to some,” Caro said firmly. “It’s wrong to murder. And Jenny Besom didn’t have a damn thing to do with Pritchett’s plans. So she had to have been killed because she knew something.”
“I agree with you,” Damien answered. “This bokor is too dangerous. If he means to go after everyone in any way involved with Pritchett’s business, as well as anyone who figures out what he’s doing, he’ll have a lot of blood on his hands. But mostly, Schatz, I
’m concerned that he’s after you. You don’t even have anything to do with this.”
“He must think I do. I was there when Pritchett was murdered.” She turned things around in her head, considering. “He’s changed his method, this bokor. His first murders, of Pritchett and his immediate family, were gruesome beyond belief. It was intended to scare everyone associated with the project. But apparently people haven’t become scared off, so he’s murdering in a more stealthy fashion, trying to make it look natural. And that means he doesn’t intend to stop.”
She remembered only too clearly what had happened on the street yesterday and was fairly certain the newest death had been caused in just the same way. She could barely repress a shudder when she remembered that feeling of cold crawling into her very bones and her inability to draw a breath no matter how hard she tried.
She looked at Jude. “Tell Terri to look for evidence that his breathing was interrupted somehow. Besom’s, too. That’s what was happening to me.”
Jude nodded and pulled out his phone.
She looked at Damien. “Not that this is going to help us solve this or stop it. We need to get to work.”
“I know, Schatz. But this is a time for supreme patience. Everything in it’s time and proper place. Then we go hunting in earnest.”
“We’ve been hunting all along and where has it gotten us? We’re no closer to the bokor.”
“I agree traditional methods haven’t worked. That’s why we’re going to use older methods. No power can be used without leaving traces. None. It rends the fabric between the normal and the paranormal. It leaves a trail. It may not be easy to follow, but I should be in a better position to follow it later. I used to be very good at that.”
“Really?” She lifted an eyebrow, trying to imagine it. “One of your duties?”
“There are always those who seek to pervert power. They have to be dealt with, just like this bokor.”
“What happens when we find him?”
“We’ll have to fight him power for power. Unless you just want to shoot him, which I doubt. It wouldn’t get rid of the elemental he’s loosed, though. It would just leave it directionless.”