by Erin Hayes
"Damn straight he brought you to me," she said. "Do you think you'd be in this state if he'd brought you to a hospital?" All compassion left her tone; she had a haggard look to her that put me in mind of mania.
"He brought me to you because he's afraid of being discovered."
"Do you really think he's lived this long, that they have all lived this long, simply because they fear humanity?"
"Fear of discovery, you mean." I couldn't stop myself from correcting her.
She snorted. "You have no idea."
"Then enlighten me. He recruited me. He hired me to lure specialty dishes to the tables of his clients instead of them doing their own hunting."
"A service you failed to provide."
"Whose side are you on, Ana?" I wasn't being demanding or facetious. I just couldn't imagine a human being so willing to send another to their deaths.
"I might ask you the same." She placed expert fingers on my wrist with clinical precision. "You did agree to the job."
I did. And I was sick over it. If I'd been as full of piss and vinegar as my usual self, I might have told them all to pound sand. I hadn't though. I'd acted like a cornered kitten and taken any way out presented. Besides the decision being a very shitty and selfish act, it had also put me in the worse predicament of having Ismé commandeer my body. The vagrant in the cot next to me changed things, though. A full top up of plasma and blood changed things. I watched Ana mull over my pulse results.
"I had no choice."
"We all have a choice." The way she said it, I believed she had her own regrets.
"Well, Magnus might have prettied it up some, but the bottom line is he used me." I wasn't sure why I caught on the sentence, why it clogged up my throat, but I struggled on. "He used me so his precious club wouldn't get exposure, to protect his kind so they could glut themselves without so much as having to do their own hunting."
She blew air out from between pursed lips. "They don't need recruiters to hunt. They hunt every blessed night. There's a difference between ground chuck and prime rib."
"Or cheap spritzers and chianti," I said. "More evidence that I wouldn't even be in this state if Magnus and his kind had just left me alone."
"Be that as it may, it's the life you're living." She was being damned cavalier about it all.
"But look at him." I tilted my chin toward the vagrant who had gone gray as he lay on the cot. "He's dying."
Ana casually unhooked him. "No," she said. "He's dead." She pulled the sheet up over his face, and even being saved from looking at it, I still knew what lay beneath the mound of sheet.
"Unhook me too," I said. "If Magnus and his stupid club are so hot to use me to get to a priestess so some salivating vampire can get his fix, then let me get this ludicrous job started and be done with it. I could use the money." I was being spiteful.
"He fired you," she said. "Remember? You're free of him." But she moved to release me from the tubes and IVs. She wasn't gentle about pulling out the stent either, and the pain burned straight up my arm.
"I can't get this tape off," I complained, and only just caught her stiffening up as I was climbing from the bed. I stretched my wrist to her, hoping she'd help, but she pursed her lips, turning away from me as she busied herself with the nearby tray of instruments. "Really?" I said. "Just because I don't like being the cause of some poor sop's death, you won't help me."
"She's helped you enough, it seems. You should be more appreciative."
The voice startled me.
"Magnus," I said, feeling like a naughty child.
Ana gathered the tubes and bags and laid them in the tray next to the vagrant's bed.
"It's alright," she said to him. "I didn't do it for her." The way she said it, I would have given anything to steal a look at her neck.
Magnus's face softened as he regarded her. "I'm sorry I was curt before."
She smiled, showing a set of very square, perfect teeth. "There wasn't time for manners," she said and pushed at the foot of the cot. Its casters spun noisily, finding direction, then ka-chunked its way from the room ahead of her. She pulled the door closed behind her.
I braced for impact.
"I want to be paid," I said, putting a hand on the dresser to steady myself.
He nodded, pushing back his hair. "You deserve it."
"I want to leave."
"Of course." He nodded at my waist. "Would you like to get dressed first?"
I felt my entire body flush with embarrassment. I'd forgotten I was nude. I swallowed and with a tremendous amount of effort refused to let my hands move to conceal any part of skin from his gaze. I could feel where my fingers had begun a frantic tapping against my thigh. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets. For each casual movement, I knew my jaw grew tighter.
"He needs to be buried."
"You thought I would throw him in a dumpster?" His cobalt eyes started a lazy roam over my body, landing on my pebbled nipples.
My fingers curled into my palms.
"How the hell should I know what you do with your leftovers?"
No more than a cocked blond brow. I found myself running my tongue over the backs of my teeth.
"I mean," I said. "You could have some Nazi crematorium in this place for all the world knows."
He shuffled his right foot sideways.
"Do you?" I demanded.
"Do I what?"
"Burn your trash?"
He was beside me before I had a chance to inhale. My back dug in to the edge of the dresser as he strained against me, his hand on my throat, fingers tiptoeing around to land on my racing pulse. I let out a soft yelp as one touched the bruising left by Gio.
"Would you feel better if I tore your throat out?"
I met his gaze.
"Yes," I said without hesitation.
It took a moment for that to register, it seemed. And then he relaxed; his hand fell away, buried in his pocket again. His eyes shifted to the wall behind me and I finally felt as though I could breathe.
"He has been begging me for weeks to put him out of his misery. At least he died on his own terms, not because of overdose or starvation."
"Still, he died."
"Everyone dies."
"Not you. Not Gio." I wanted to say not Ismé, but I couldn't get any more words out. It was taking everything I had just to stand there naked without flinching under the weight of his presence.
He squinted down at me. "What is it you want? You want me to make you? Is that it?"
"Hell no."
He scanned me from head to heel this time without any sense of sensuality, and I felt as though my feet had sent out tendrils of shoots, planting me there. I had to lean against the dresser to keep from swaying. He leaned ever so subtly forward so that his breath swept across my shoulder. I could feel my hair move.
"What are you waiting for?" he said.
"What am I--?"
"Waiting for?" he said. "You said you wanted to leave."
I tilted my chin at him stubbornly. "I'm waiting for you to get me something to cover up my naked ass."
His mouth twitched.
"And you said I'd be paid."
"I can see what drove Gio so mad," he said, pulling the drawer open and yanking out a charcoal colored T-shirt. It landed across my shoulder when he threw it, then he yanked open another drawer, extracting a pair of faded jeans. I already had the T-shirt pulled down around my hips when the denim skidded to the floor and wrapped around my ankles. I wasted no time pushing my feet into the legs and pulling the jeans on. They were baggy, and kept falling down to the widest part of the hips. Even so, my heart finally slowed down just knowing I was covered.
I looked up at him, thinking to stick my palm out and demand my pay, but the expression on his face struck me dumb. Despite being fully clothed, I felt more naked than I had just moments earlier.
"Jesus," he said, and I realized he had a full erection, one he wasn't bothering to conceal at all.
My chest felt like on
e of those kiddie corn poppers. I suffered a flashback from two days earlier when I was last there in his room, offering him my blood-covered arm after the massacre. Even as I knew my heart was racing, his eyes flicked to my neck.
"You said you wanted me." He took a step toward me. "You left the message with Anastasia."
I started to tell him that message had been left by Ismé, not me, because she wanted a vampire to turn her. She had no intention of living with me in my body. She wanted it all to herself. The words wouldn't come. He looked so strangely earnest.
"Do you?" he said. "Want me?"
I couldn't bring myself to answer.
"Do you know what I want?"
I swallowed. "Me. My blood?"
"Yes. To both. Gio had it all wrong. You don't taste of chianti. You taste of juniper berries and ginger. Hot. Spicy." His canines showed through his lips, and I swore I could see them throb. "You taste of home."
I laughed, a tittering, ridiculous sound that made him advance on me.
"You're afraid."
"Damn straight," I said, thinking we'd had the conversation before.
"You shouldn't be. I'm not Gio."
"No, you're a blood thirsty Viking plunderer."
"I was. Once. It was glorious, the taking." He closed his eyes, savouring whatever memories raced through his mind. Long moments passed before his blue-eyed gaze met mine again.
"But I won't take you, Jade," he said. "Not unless you want it."
"Does Ana want it?"
"Ana?"
"Yes. Do you sustain her the way Gio did me? Is that what I have to look forward to? Years of draining until I grow old and haggard."
He smirked. "Ana and I do not share ourselves that way."
"But she's your thrall."
"It's not what I plan for you, Jade. It's not what I have in mind."
"Really?"
"Do you think it was coincidence that I happened upon you and Gio the first night? Do you think it's lucky happenstance that I managed to save you? I followed you upstairs. I saw you with Sam and I knew he had recruited you for Gio.
"That was all... at first. I just saw you and thought it would be such a terrible waste. But when I realized how enamored he was of you, I knew you'd never be free, that he would torture you until he was finished with you. That seemed far worse than you just being drained and left for dead."
His voice gained a mesmerizing hum, and I wondered if he was trying to enthrall me. It was only when his voice broke that I realized he was struggling with his nature.
"It's why I wanted a priestess," he said. "I figured she could at least resurrect the one person that could tear him away from you. He's the original, Jade. Created by the gods. It's why the silver is so potent a weapon against him.
"I wanted you free of him. That was all. At first. Now it's more. Tell me it is for you too. Tell me I'm not imagining the connection. You felt it. I know you did. I was able to sustain you when I shouldn't have been able to."
"How do I know it won't be like Gio?"
"You don't. You'll just have to trust me."
I eyed him. "I've trusted before, and it ended badly."
He looked at me with a peculiar glint in his eye. "Was this man you placed such trust in willing to kill for you?"
I had no answer for that. It was so beyond my scope that I couldn't process what he was saying. I mean, what man would say such a thing? And yet... he wasn't a man. I thought of how vulnerable I'd been to Gio, how powerless.
He stepped closer, towering over me as I tried to work out my desire and my fear. He was so close, I couldn't think.
"Tell me you want me, Jade. I know you want to fuck me; I've known it for some time, but I need to hear it. Tell me you want to fuck me."
"If I say it does it mean you'll take my blood too?"
"No. Not if you don't want me too. I won't lie; I want to taste you. I want your blood raging through me, but I won't steal it from you."
I hesitated. I did want him. I'd always wanted him. From the moment I'd imagined him plundering his way from ship to shore in some ancient village, I'd wanted to feel his cock inside me. Filling me, taking every inch of me. But my experience with Gio had made me wary. I couldn't surrender that much of myself ever again. My ex had drained me of my self-esteem, Gio had drained me of my life's blood and my will. Ismé had taken control of my body. And this man – this vampire – would take my soul, I was certain of it. Once I gave my body, I'd not be able to separate the two from him. I knew it was about more than lust, but I couldn't be sure how much more.
I purposefully willed my hands to stay glued to my sides. I knew if I so much as moved, I would literally throw myself at him. His hand snaked next to mine, laying against it, palm to palm. A surge of electricity leapt up my arm. My knees went weak from desire.
"You think you will be the one at greatest risk, Jade, but you're wrong." His voice sounded from low in his throat, making it come out all dusty and hoarse. "I haven't felt true happiness for centuries. I've been afraid to even remember it. What do you think happens to an immortal who falls in love with a human?"
"The human dies."
He chuckled. "That would be easy, my mambo. If they could die and we could grieve and a century later fall in love again--because we will if we let it. We do have an eternity, after all."
"So what, then?"
He stroked the inside of my wrist with his fingers. "We watch you age, and so to halt it, we sustain you as Gio did. It takes a lot of energy to continue the process. A lifetime for you doubles, even triples, if we perform it enough. We don't die, but we waste, and so would require more blood. It's far easier to either make a human or kill one."
I felt guilty all of a sudden, not because of the possibility that Gio had been wasting and seeking blood from someone after he'd left me, but for the people Magnus would undoubtedly have to seek out when we joined. Because I was going to fuck him. By now, I considered it part of my payment.
Chapter Fifteen
LUST FILLED HAZE
He must've seen something on my face, each thought as it passed, because he lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a wet kiss to each finger before turning it over and placing his lips on my wrist.
It was a test. I willed myself to stay still. He peered down at me, his cobalt eyes hooded with desire.
"You aren't leaving. Do I dare think you trust me after that? Knowing how badly I'll need blood?"
I could only jangle my head up and down. The lust was already closing up my throat. He smiled lazily, making my heart stutter.
"Then say it, Jade. Tell me you want to fuck me."
In answer, I moved into his arms, pulling my hand from his and laying it against the bulge in his pants. I slipped lower, feeling the swell of his sack, squeezing and lifting.
He groaned. "Say it. Don't make me go back on my word, Jade."
I knelt in front of him, fully intending to unzip and handle him, to take him in my mouth so I could feel the satin of his cock against the raspiness of my tongue. With him in my mouth, I'd need no excuse for my inability to speak. I wouldn't have to verbalize my surrender.
I felt his attempt to resist, but his body betrayed his need; it strained for me. I clutched his buttocks as his pants pooled at his ankles, and I pulled him closer. As I'd known, his cock was thick and straight, the veins bulging and begging for my touch. I licked each line, drawing my tongue from root to tip, savouring the taste of fluid that leaked out and stood glistening on the head.
He tensed as his breath came heavier, his ass cheeks clenching beneath my palms. I imagined he knew I was preparing to slip down over the shaft and wasn't sure he could control himself.
"Tell me, Jade. Sweet Lucifer, say it before I can't hold back."
He had both hands on the back of my head, ready to handle-bar himself into my mouth. I had the sense that he wanted to pump in and out, drive to my throat and release himself against my tonsils. Just imagining it, made the juices soak the jeans I had yanked up in suc
h haste moments before. Just those few words he wanted and I could have him, fuck him, rock with him into oblivion, but still I couldn't admit it.
"I won't bleed you; I promised, didn't I?" He rasped, his fingers spidering toward my ear. There was such tension in his hips that I knew it was only by extreme effort he kept from plunging down into my throat.
"Say it, Jade, or by God, I'll make you say it."
By now he was gripping me by the hair. As I slipped over his cock and let it fill into my cheeks and clog my throat, I realized what I was after, why I wouldn't surrender. It was power I wanted. The return of myself, my control, my own literal sense of self-possession.
The shaft bit against the back of my throat and tears stung the corners of my eyes as I willed my muscles to relax. I could barely hear him begging anymore. While he held back, I pumped faster and faster, not caring that spittle was streaming from my lips, my eyes burning from the exertion. If I gagged as I took him deeper into the back of my throat, I wasn't aware of it.
I only grew aware when his hands fisted my hair and he peeled me away from his cock. He looked down at me, his face twisted with unclaimed lust.
"Sweet fuck, Jade, if you want my soul, take it. Take the fucking thing, just say the words so I can bury myself inside you."
I was panting with my own need. My mouth felt bruised and sore, my cheeks as though I'd been filling balloons.
"Yes," I said, looking up at him, drinking in every inch of his frame, his fangs, his unshaven jaw. "I do want to fuck you. I want it all; your cock, your body, your soul."
I surprised myself with this, but I knew it was true. I couldn't give my surrender without having his.
"Finally," he said. With a growl, he stripped me of the jeans, taking the time to kneel so he could run his cheek along my thigh, lifting one leg onto his shoulder and probing between my cleft with his tongue. I felt his shudder beneath my thigh, felt his breath as he whispered to me. "It's yours," he said. "All of it."
He pulled my legs around his waist then stood with me wrapped around him so tightly I felt part of him. I felt his cock between the cleft of ass, his hand seeking the shaft and pressing it in closer so it fit snug and rode up my back. It was slick with my spit and as he forced it to pump between my cheeks, I let go a low moan.