Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)

by Carrie Ann Ryan

Of course her Maker, Sargon, sat next to her in the VIP booth in all his otherworldly glory—the man was beyond gifted in the looks and charm departments—but he was glamoured to conceal himself from the mortals. If Sargon lowered his shields, they’d soon be mobbed by men and women desperate for his attention. He had a lovely set of full, soft lips that just begged a woman to explore their smooth surface with her tongue and long black hair that hung down to his shoulders. Women’s panties went up in flames at the sight of him. Yes, he was that good looking, and his charisma rolled from him in a wave of command and seduction. Distracted for a moment by his handsome face, she turned to study him openly, her heart skipping a beat when he turned his attention to her and smiled, the flash of his long, tiger fangs making her blood heat.

  “My bella ragazza,” he said with a purr. “Feeling restless?”

  Irritated that he could read her emotions as easily as a book, she shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  He sighed and reached out, running a bronze-toned finger down her arm and her whole body humed for him. “You’ve been living in war for so long you’ve forgotten how to enjoy peace. I fear that you’ve cut yourself off for to the point where you’ll spend an eternity with your heart encased in ice. You’ve forgotten how to allow yourself to love.”

  “Love,” she scoffed, an unexpected pang of longing threatening to cut her soul. “Love is an illusion.”

  “I love you,” he said in his deep tone that rang through her soul like church bells.

  She knew he loved her, and she loved him, but vampire relationships were complicated, and her connection to Sargon was about as tangled as it could get. Maybe if he’d been the first vampire she’d met she would have allowed herself to fall in love with him, but by the time Sargon found her, she’d been brutalized, a feral animal bent upon destroying her enemy in as bloody a manner as possible. Her rage had been of epic proportions, strong enough to get her through hell. By the time Sargon had found her, she’d managed to civilize herself enough to slip among the humans undetected, but when she was alone with her victim, she allowed her bloodlust free rein.

  Then Sargon saved her, stole her soul from her first Maker, and trained her to be an even more lethal weapon against her enemies. Even six hundred years later she could recall the first time she saw him, an avenging angel from Hell striding toward her with an expression so hungry, so lustful, the mere memory of his touch sent shivers through her. She’d been drenched in blood, but that only served to arouse him further. The memory of their first bloody kiss sent a full-body shiver racing through her.

  Uncomfortable with all the emotions bombarding her, she shrugged. “You have to love me. You’re my Maker.”

  Sargon smiled then shook his head. “Ah, my darling girl, how wrong you are. Have you given any more thought to becoming a Maker yourself?”

  The idea upset her so much that she hissed at Sargon. “Never.”

  A look of determination mixed with irritation twisted his full lips. “Most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. How many times do I have to tell you that your transition from mortal to vampire was abnormal, a tainted perversion of a true bonding between Maker and fledgling? Your soul is crying out with need, and you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge it. Please, at least consider it. I will help you.”

  Her muscles tensed as she glared at him and repeated, “Never.”

  Throwing his hands into the air, he stood and stretched out, drawing her gaze to his thick muscles. In his mortal life Sargon had been a warrior king, a man who’d led armies and conquered empires. He was ruthless, bloodthirsty, and she trusted him more than anyone in the entire world. She knew he was thinking only of her happiness while urging her to make a fledgling. Sargon felt that having a mate to care for would heal her heart, but she couldn’t.

  Bending down, Sargon brushed his lips over hers, the sweep of his tongue making her tingle.

  “If you ever decide to make a fledgling, I will help you. Together we will create a strong, amazing vampire who will only know pleasure from our touch, our kiss. It will be the most amazing experience for him. Give me the chance to help heal your heart, Lisabetta. You are precious to me, and I promise I won’t fail you.” He paused and studied her with such an intense gaze that she was spellbound. “Have you considered that a man may be out there right now, desperate for you, waiting for you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  She nipped his lower lip, sipping at the blood there as arousal spun through her. Sex with Sargon was amazing, addictive even, so she only allowed herself small doses of the pleasure he could offer her in bed. Their blood bond made emotions and sensations fantastically intense between them, and in a normal Maker-fledgling relationship they would live as husband and wife instead of lovers when she wasn’t busy running from her feelings for her Maker. If she was being totally honest with herself, she had to admit that Sargon wanted that for them, to be a true family, but would never push her. Despite all the years and her best efforts, she still feared Sargon on some level, and that fear kept her from committing to him.

  For the millionth time she said, “My poor Maker. You got stuck with one screwed-up fledgling. I wish I could be what you want.”

  His dark gaze softened, and he rubbed his nose against hers in an affectionate gesture that made her smile. “Foolish girl, you’re exactly what I want. Now, find some unsuspecting mortal and get laid before I take the choice from you and fuck you right here, right now.”

  Her pussy clenched, and she growled softly as he pulled away. Damn, he knew exactly what to say to arouse her. “Piss off.”

  Laughing, Sargon lifted his hands and stared across the room before returning his attention to her. “Have fun, darling.”

  With her clit pounding to the beat of her heart, she ran her tongue over her teeth and concentrated on retracting her fangs. The more aroused she became, the quicker she burned through her supply of blood and the hungrier she became. Determined to draw some prey, she leaned back in her booth and allowed her aura to put off “fuck me vibes” while scanning the club for her next donor.

  She was alone, she was beautiful, and yet…no one approached her. It was almost as if she had some kind of force field around her keeping them away, yet the only magic she could detect was her own powers, her werewolf bodyguard, and of course Sargon’s, but he was so powerful that it was like standing next to the sun and trying to see the light from a candle. His presence saturated the air around her and she wondered for a moment if he was the one keeping the mortals at bay, but that wouldn’t make any sense. Sargon was always going on and on how she needed to indulge herself in the pleasures of the world more so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to isolate her from her potential blood donors.

  A quick glance over to her right showed that Mason, her werewolf bodyguard for the night and chief of her Maker’s security force, was still standing up against the far wall. He was a handsome enough man with red hair that curled slightly, giving him a roughish look, but werewolf blood tasted even worse than drunk-human blood so she’d have to be starving before she touched him, and that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t hovering, so to the mortals around her she should appear like a beautiful young woman clearly lacking company, but despite all the interested looks thrown her way, she couldn’t find anyone she actually wanted to come near her.

  It made her suddenly aware of how very lonely she was. She’d been immersed among vampires for so long that she’d forgotten how damn vulnerable she’d been when she was human. Old feelings, ancient betrayals tried to surface in her thoughts, and she strained to keep them back. Across the room her bodyguard tensed, ready to come to her side if she needed him, but she raised her hand slightly, letting Mason know she was fine. Just a bit of the past trying to plunder the present.

  Shit, when had she become so fucking miserable? She wanted to kick her own ass for being so emo. Fucking hell. What she needed was a nice, strong human male to fall in love with her for one night. A man who wasn’t playing games, someone with experience and
that certain something that made her blood sing. She needed to feel as though she belonged to someone, but there wasn’t anyone among the crowd that made her look twice. The feeling of needing, craving…something intensified until she hugged herself, wishing Sargon was still here so he could hold her.

  As that last thought made her want to tear up, she met the gaze of a man in his early forties sitting in another area of the VIP section. He had close-cropped dark hair with thick shocks of silver streaking through it. A black cowboy hat sat on the table before him, and she had a sudden, vivid mental image of riding him wearing just his hat. He was sexy, so damn sexy it made her teeth ache to taste him. His tanned face had faint lines, and she could see the solid, muscular build of his broad chest and shoulders beneath his plaid shirt. Something about him radiated power and control, but it wasn’t in the way of immortals. No, this man was one hundred percent human and utterly delicious. All thoughts of anyone’s gaze except for the powerful man before her vanished as pure primal need filled her.

  She wanted him.

  Now.

  He caught her staring, and his eyes widened for a moment before he smiled. She glanced around his seating area and deduced that he was alone in his section, just like she was. Did he want to sit away from humanity because he wanted the privacy, or was it for other, darker reasons? Was that mysterious man here to search for a victim of his own? Too impatient to reason out her best plan of attack, she stood and smoothed her dress over her curves, feeling his gaze following her hands like a caress. Being immortal had its advantages, like never having to worry about a sagging body part. The cowboy’s firm lips curved into an appreciative smile, and she shivered as energy surged through her.

  Oh yeah, she was taking him home with her tonight. Maybe she’d even invite Sargon to join them if the desire moved her. One of her favorite things was to watch Sargon work his sensual magic on another man, and her Maker enjoyed indulging her kink. A very, very clear mental image of Sargon kissing the mystery man across the room from her flitted through her mind with the strength of a memory. As she tried to grasp onto that picture, it slipped through her fingers, leaving her even more aroused than before.

  Slinking over to him, she paused before the handsome stranger and smiled down at him, letting a bit of glamour enter her gaze. He’d forget what she looked like tomorrow, but for tonight, she’d let him see the real her. His jaw dropped farther as her skin took on a shimmer like amber and her pale blue eyes sparkled with bits of silver. Being seen for who she really was, letting this mysterious man observe the effects of her vampire blood, was a drug like no other. She could pretend for a moment that she was something beautiful, something special. On the inside she was as dark as could be, but it was nice to feel like she had a bit of light inside of her somewhere.

  Memories of what she’d had to do to make it this far sent a shudder through her, and the cowboy drew her down to his side without a word. He gripped her chin in his hand and drew her gaze to his. “I’ve got you, baby girl. Relax. I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want. Now, how much have you had to drink? Do we need to start getting some water and Tylenol in you?”

  “What the fuck?” She jerked her chin away. “You think I’m drunk?”

  He shrugged, and she actually growled at him before she caught his little smirk. She knew just how to wipe that smug smile off his face. Sliding her fingers through his hair, she tried to stifle a moan at how silky it was. He did moan, and the sound was low, delicious, and made her sex wet as she gripped his thick hair in her hand and tilted his face to hers. He had lovely, deep brown eyes that she could easily see herself getting lost in. The oddest feeling of relief filled her as she stared into his eyes, like she’d missed him.

  “Smell my breath. Do I smell like alcohol?”

  Vampires actually smelled quite nice to humans and there was a tranquilizer in her kiss that would mellow his ass right out. But for some reason she didn’t want to kiss him yet. She wanted to hear what this asshole had to say. Was she drunk…what a dick! Goodness, why was it always the hot guys that were the biggest jerks?

  Then his lips brushed hers, and her world exploded with sensation and color. The instant burn heating her blood had her groaning aloud, and she grasped his face between her hands, suddenly ravenous for him. Eager for a better taste of his tempting flavor, she licked at the seam of his mouth. He froze, his heart surging, and the rush of testosterone that poured off of him made her squirm. Yes, this is what she wanted. A man in his prime, a man who was strong enough to stand up to her. She loved his honesty and found the touch of apprehension in his gaze to be a bit funny. She was his forbidden fruit, and she was going to tempt him like he wouldn’t believe.

  Licking his lips lightly, she loosened her hold on his face and moved closer until her erect nipples scraped against his chest.

  His voice held a definite teasing tone as he said, “Little girl, what are you doing?”

  Anger snapped through her, and she jerked back so he could see her. His breath stopped as she smiled, revealing just the barest hint of fang before she stopped. For some reason men loved that hint of danger, but her cowboy appeared unimpressed. Amused even. What the hell?

  Disconcerted by his easy acceptance of her fangs, she reached up and cupped his chin. “My name is Lisabetta.”

  “Lisabetta,” he murmured in a deep, delicious voice. “You, Lisabetta, are nothing but trouble wrapped up in the most beautiful package.”

  A startled laugh escaped her, and he grinned, drawn into her, feeling her emotions. That lovely connection between souls began to form, and she smiled up at him. There was something so familiar about him. Comforting. Arousing. In a way her reaction to him reminded her of the way she was instinctively drawn to Sargon. Though they were very different physically, there was a core of power to each man that was timeless. The arrogance of being used to being in charge, used to ruling, filled them both.

  Trying to maintain control of the situation and her runaway hormones, she said, “And your name is?”

  “Tyler.” He nodded at her with a small smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “I like you, Tyler.” She gave him a considering look then smiled. “I would love to spend the evening with you, but first, you need to know who and what I am. Stupid, I know, because I’ll just erase your memory, but I try to be honest whenever possible. Makes life easier.”

  The look he gave her wasn’t the shocked expression she was used to. Instead, he looked…eager. “What is it?”

  “Tyler, right now I’m nude except for my heels. Go ahead, take a peek.”

  His eyes widened, and his gaze darted down. Sucking in a deep breath, he licked his lips. “Nice little bit of magic you have there. If you look like that nude, I can’t wait to rub my lips against that soft pussy hair of yours. Bet you taste like incense and honey, your arousal thick on my tongue like syrup.”

  Her pulse rate picked up, and she bit her lower lip, almost breaking the skin and drawing his gaze to her mouth. It vaguely disturbed her that, for once, she didn’t have the upper hand with a human, but she also really liked how bold he was. And his mouth. A very vivid mental image of biting down on his firm lower lip and tasting him set fire to her body. Her clit began to throb, and she shifted just the slightest bit. Another vampire would have felt her arousal, but she hoped this human didn’t notice her need.

  Trying to regain the upper hand again, she looked at him through her long lashes and said, “I’m glamouring you, Tyler. I’m making you see something that isn’t there. That’s my particular gift. I know, kind of odd for a vampire, but at least I got something cool. My friend Molly received the gift of talking to insects. Talk about random, right?”

  “Vampire, huh?” He reached out and traced his thumb over her lips while he cupped her chin. “All I see is a stunningly beautiful woman with eyes like the night sky.”

  “Fangs,” she whispered against his thumb, wanting to suck it into her mouth.

  His lips quirked. “Fa
ngs?”

  She flashed hers and wanted to growl when he didn’t look the least bit startled. He wasn’t reacting at all like a normal human would and a tingle of suspicion race down her spine. Leaning closer, she took a subtle inhalation of his scent and found only his and hers. In fact, in a puzzling way, he smelled delicious. Like his blood was the perfect mixture made just to tempt her taste buds. “I want you to come home with me, Tyler. I want to touch you, pleasure you, make you orgasm until you pass out, but only for one night, and you will not remember it. If that is too much, I understand.”

  To her shock tears filled her eyes, and he made a little hushing noise. “No, baby, no tears. You’re too beautiful for such sorrow. Let’s just take it one moment at a time. Give yourself permission to enjoy me.”

  He leaned forward and gently kissed her tears away, his warm lips pressing to her skin. She moaned softly at the caress of his mouth and rubbed her face against him like a cat seeking a petting. The soft brush of his shirt over her skin was torture, and her body ached to have him inside of her. He’d feel so good, so strong and filling. Something to ground herself to, some connection to help her survive the darkness. She needed his light but would settle for his body.

  “I don’t want to talk about the past, only the now. And in the now I want you.”

  “Tell you what, Lisabetta. Why don’t you come to my place? I swear I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, but I’d like to talk to you in a more intimate setting.”

  “You couldn’t do anything to me that I don’t want.” She winked at him and loved his grin. “That is fine, but I will have to leave before sunrise. Not that I’ll burst into a puff of dust, but sunburns fucking hurt.”

  He laughed, and she ran her tongue over her teeth. The flash of his white smile against his tanned face made her heart beat faster, and she wondered at her unusually strong reaction to this man. Something about him was familiar, but she didn’t think she’d ever met him before. This feeling of knowing someone even when they’d never met wasn’t that unusual—in over six hundred years she’d encountered lots of people—but this odd feeling that she could trust him was.