Crimson, Volume 1

by Sax Alexander

  “You’re less funny than you believe yourself to be, my protégée,” she said, not letting him leave her sight.

  “Apparently, I have wit beyond compare, as you see fit to push yourself in my presence, wanted or not,” he replied, taking the stairs two at a time down to the ground floor. It wouldn’t be long until he could no longer walk in the full sun, even early dawn, if he didn’t find a werewolf soon. Going outside burned him, the morning light the least problematic.

  Cassandra would hound him. She hoped to trap him back into the fold with his need. She didn’t know where he’d found his werewolf blood all these years, but she’d retaliated ages ago by ordering her coven’s guards to kill all of the renegade weres on sight, making it harder for him to find the powerful sustenance. She wanted him back. What he didn’t understand was why.

  The longer he stayed away from her coven, the more convinced he became that there was something nefarious in her wish to have him in the fold. Otherwise, why would this ruthless leader keep him alive in his disobedience when she had summarily ordered all others killed? He looked behind him.

  “What you have is an inflated ego which needs brought back down,” she said, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. Damn it. He hadn’t felt or seen her move past him, and yet, there she was, standing between him and the door. That would teach him to look back.

  “I’m quite sure you’re the queen destroyer of egos,” he snarled. Yanking his arm back, he struggled to keep his calm. He had to find a way to sit and put his top hat, gloves, and shoes on so he wouldn’t be hurt by the early sunlight. And he needed to go soon. The midday sun would be brutal on his skin. He’d be ashes within moments.

  He strode into the morning room, put on his overcoat, and sat on one of the plush, fabric-covered chairs there. He hated turning his back to her, but he had to hide the fear that her fast movements had induced, as well as the bloodlust her touch inspired. If they shared blood again, he would be bound to her, as addicted as any mortal on opium.

  He put on his boots as if he had all the time in the world, then stood up. Slowly, he drew on his gloves, wondering why she’d stayed silent. He looked up and surprised a look on her face, one he couldn’t readily decipher, before she schooled her features back into her normal haughty demeanor.

  When she met his gaze, she said, “Now that you are properly dressed, shall we go for a stroll? I feel like a walk on the promenade,” she said in sugary tones, taking a dig at his severely limited daylight time.

  “Oh, let us do that together, Cassandra. Your company is ever a source of joy and cheer for me,” he said, looking down at his hands and pushing his gloves on until they were exactly right. He realized he hadn’t buttoned up and smiled sardonically up at his former lover.

  “Oh, but we mustn’t. I look a fright. I must go home to my manservant and allow him to put me to rights. Another time, perhaps. Don’t call on me, I shall find you. No, really. Don’t call on me. You’re not invited.”

  With that, he took a chance that the retraction of invite might buy him a few minutes, and appeared outside a milliner’s shoppe, into the small alcove. He immediately fell over in a tangle of purple skirts and lace. Feminine gasps of outrage and surprise filled his ears until he finally got untangled.

  They ended up face-to-face.

  “Where, sir, did you come from?” the pert blonde asked, her hat askew. “And why do you feel the need to push me down?” She tried to straighten her hat, then realized her skirts lay in a chaotic fashion and rapidly stood up. Her parcels were strewn all about her, some tied in pretty ribbons, some hard, some lumpy.

  He began gathering them up for her, his mouth dry. Her cleavage, which he’d seen as she’d stood up, had brought forth an honest sexual reaction. Not forced, or brought on by bloodlust, but by pure sexual fantasy. When he had her last parcel picked up, he stood and handed them to her.

  “I’m sorry, miss.” He hesitated, wanting her to supply him with a name.

  “Miss Ernestine Primrose,” she replied and held out her gloved hand, after transferring a large packet, the only one that hadn’t fallen, to her other hand.

  He took her fingers in his and brought her hand up for a kiss. After giving it the customary greeting, he turned her hand over, and just above her short glove, kissed her skin over her life vein.

  She shivered, and her heart beat faster, its rhythm pounding against his ears like a melodic song. He met her eyes. They were a dark blue, the perfect foil to her blonde hair and fair, but slightly sun-kissed skin.

  “Please, allow me to walk you home. It is the least I can do after such a blunder. I’m afraid I wasn’t watching where I was going and completely fell into you.” She had no idea how lucky they both were. Her being in his exact landing spot probably masked his scent from Cassandra.

  All of a sudden, he grinned. Miss Ernestine Primrose had just found herself a suitor.

  Chapter Three

  Ernestine could barely breathe as the man, Daryn, walked her home. Or should she say vampire? Her insides clenched in much the way she wanted to clench her fists. Was it just her bad luck to run into a vampire so closely after killing one?

  The anger which always smoldered close to the surface since losing her great-grandmother threatened to choke her. That this one walked in the daylight meant he used a werewolf. Used it so he could appear normal. Human. What a cold joke on the human race to have ones such as he appear so manly.

  And his looks insulted her even more. Vampires weren’t supposed to be so handsome that her nipples puckered and she felt a moistness foreign to her in her bloomers. She’d read about a woman’s reaction to men. That she found him attractive angered her so. She’d already consigned herself to living a lonely life of being a vampire slayer. Not only to avenge her great-grandmother, but also to keep humans protected from the monsters.

  She waited for him to ask her what she was doing out so early, when so many members of the ton stayed out until nearly dawn, then didn’t get up until late morning. Or, like so many men folk of her acquaintance, ask her where her chaperone was. She tried to form a lie on her lips that he wouldn’t smell. A plausible one.

  Nothing came to mind. All she could think about was the bloody stake wrapped in her stableboy breeches, wrapped in oilcloth, wrapped in paper that was in her largest parcel. If he smelled it, would he kill her? She didn’t know how far they’d walked before she realized they hadn’t spoken. What would she have said if it had been another male, human, who’d found her out this morning?

  “It’s a lovely day for a walk. I find the crisp morning air invigorating, don’t you?” She nearly pinched herself as she heard the challenge in her last two words. He turned his head to her and gave her such an intent look that her steps faltered and she started to trip.

  His strong hands kept her from falling, but her largest package fell to the ground. She froze in horror. He couldn’t be allowed to touch it. As she bent over to reach it and she purposely let fall some of her other packages he’d already picked up before. They held her stockings she hadn’t wanted to put back on and other items. It was all she could think of to keep him from getting the one that would put her in danger if he found out exactly what was in it.

  Quickly, she grabbed the incriminating package and tried not to squeeze it, afraid the blood scent would get to him.

  He handed her the other packages and gave her another intent look. “I like the morning air fine, Miss Primrose. I prefer the nights, where, if I’m lucky, I can find a ball or two that will let me take a beautiful young lady into my arms for a waltz.”

  She sucked in another breath as his gaze mesmerized her. His dark eyes caught her attention because they were sad. Sadness like she’d never seen in anyone. Sadness she’d felt when her great-grandma had been murdered. Something in her snapped and a tear fell out.

  He reached his gloved hand up and brushed away her tear. “Were you hurt, m’lady?”

  “No,” she replied, annoyed with herself for her weakness
. No matter. She couldn’t bring herself to aim her hatred and anger directly at him personally.

  “That is fortunate. You see, though we are of but short acquaintance, I find myself protective of your feminine beauty. I would do great damage to any who should hurt you,” he said softly.

  A chill, which had nothing to do with the brisk morning air, moved down her spine. “That is very gallant of you, sir. But, I assure you, I’m well able to take care of myself.”

  “What, pray tell, is a woman of your stature doing out un-chaperoned? I fear our ideas of taking care of yourself may differ, Miss Primrose. For one,” he said, then laid a finger on her lips when she thought to protest. “As of this moment, your safety is of more concern to me than any societal niceties. Do not leave the house without accompaniment again. I shall call on you tonight, if it pleases you.”

  It thrilled her right down to her toes. “I have plans tonight,” she said, fighting the wayward responses of her body.

  “Then I shall go with you,” he replied.

  “But my aunt had planned on going,” she protested, and started walking again. Truthfully, her house was but a block away from their present position.

  “Then I shall protect your aunt as well.”

  “You are ever the gallant. I see I have no choice. Seven, then. You can ride in our carriage, as I fear it would upset my dear aunt too much if she had to ride in a strange man’s carriage.”

  “Your terms are agreeable.” They walked a little further, Ernestine conscious of his touch, burning her, damning her, even through his gloves. He was a vampire, she a slayer. What had she done?

  Chapter Four

  The week had been a painful one for Daryn. Between courting Ernestine, finding a werewolf—or at least a descendant—trying to keep the sun off his skin in the meantime, and staying out of places Cassandra’s people were likely to look for him, he’d hardly rested.

  And, since he’d found Ernestine, he no longer stayed the night and had his succor from human females. He couldn’t find the will to bring himself to do it without the bloodlust. So he fed off animal’s blood.

  He’d found a lead and now wanted werewolf blood more than ever to allow more time to follow up. However, one of the watchers, otherwise known as equalizers, had seen him and sent him a message, an invitation. Wary, Daryn had decided he had no choice but to go to the indicated home the next evening. The equalizers were there to keep the werewolves and the vampires in check, never having one stronger than the other. A balance in nature. He didn’t know the details of how they were chosen, but all vampires were taught to beware of and respect them.

  He knocked on the door of the address scribed on the heavyweight calling card. This equalizer had done well for him or herself. He’d never understood the process of the equalizers or personally known one. But once, he’d seen an equalizer kill both a werewolf and a vampire at once. He had been young then, in human and vampire years, and the impressions of the fight were still seared in his brain. No, he wouldn’t rebel against requests from one.

  The large ornate oak door opened, and a butler dressed in livery stood there, as imperious as if he were a butler for the Queen of England. “Yes?”

  The equalizer should know better than to have a servant who opened the door with a yes, an invitation. Daryn got angry. If this was all the superior protection this person had, then how could Daryn be assured of safety and anonymity while there?

  He flew past the butler, literally, following the sound of the heartbeats. In most ways, vampire hearing was a lot like humans—except for blood. They could hear it, smell it, even taste it if the smell was strong enough. In a brief instant, Daryn had made it to the sitting room where a male and female sat, partaking of crumpets and tea. Such an English thing to do, Daryn thought with derision. It looked to him as if they had become too complacent.

  He would fix that.

  He grabbed the girl and had her standing before him near the open window, his embrace like a lover’s. Only he held her tight against him, giving no quarter. The bloodlust rose in him, which also caused his cock to rise. In his mind, he could see this woman writhing under him, giving him the lifeblood while he roughly fucked her. For him, the gift of his vampire sire, that the bloodlust brought up sexual desires with violent overtones, was a curse.

  She didn’t struggle against him. Instead, she leaned her head back and tilted to the side. With her hair elaborately done, most of it in a curly pile at the crown of her head, her neck lay open before him, pulsing. Her excited arousal permeated the air. He lowered his head to take a bite, keeping the gaze of the man all the while.

  It would be a fitting punishment to bite the woman under the equalizer’s protection, and get his much-needed blood feeding. He brought his fully elongated incisors to her neck. She moaned as if he’d just touched her mound. The man’s breathing came quicker as well. What in the name of the armada?

  Roughly, even though his cock screamed for release and the bloodlust roared for fulfillment, Daryn shoved her into the other man’s arms.

  “What do you mean by having your butler answer the door with ‘yes’ and not so much as a stake in his hand?” Daryn hissed at the couple. The woman now sat with her arm draped over the man’s shoulders, a look of delighted glee on her face.

  “He’ll do,” she said breathily.

  “Yes, I can see you approve,” the man teased. “I, however, also happen to approve. He can resist temptation, even hungry. That is impressive in one so young.”

  “I assure you, I’m not so young,” Daryn replied, angry at their laughter. Did they not see the danger they were in?

  “And I assure you, Arik Daryn Alfred Lancaster,” the man said and they stood up, the woman stepping to the side. He was impressive, topping Daryn’s own six feet. “I’m well-aware of your precise age as well as all your sires. I’m William Forthright.”

  Daryn checked his initial response. William knew all of his names. He’d dropped the Norse Arik three centuries earlier.

  “What is your purpose in calling me here?” He tamped down the anger.

  “We wanted to warn you. Cassandra is up to something which involves you. We think it has something to do with who your sire is.”

  “My sire has been dead these long centuries, both human and vampire.”

  “I’m not so sure about your maker. But it matters not, really. You have started to exhibit some of Hanover’s traits. His more powerful ones. She won’t want to lose that power base from her coven. However, her patience, little that she has, is wearing thin. War has come between the covens, and she wants you at her side.”

  “You are her emissary? Sent to bring me back?” He’d heard rumors of the impending war.

  “No. Cassandra has walked over the line many times, but we’ve been unable to prove it to the other covens. The only things she does openly are those the other covens wouldn’t care about. Whatever you do, don’t go back to her. No matter the cost.”

  “I have no intentions of going back to her.”

  “Good. Then we’re clear. Titiana, chère,” William said and pulled the woman to him. “We mustn’t tease hungry vampires. Come here and feed our guest properly.”

  Daryn felt a rise in his cock and the saliva form in his mouth. Titiana went over to his host and started kissing him passionately. William grabbed her dress and pulled it off her chest, the buttons popping, then tore the fabric bunched at the waist, and the rest of her dress fell off, including her underthings.

  Daryn’s bloodlust pounded against his temples, and against his will he moved closer to the couple caught in the embrace. The man turned Titiana around and pulled her back against him.

  “She’s beautiful, n’est pas?” William’s hands parted the curls at her apex and fondled her clit. She moaned and her hips moved against his hands.

  Daryn’s breath rasped, and the pounding in his temples moved to his ears, her rapid heartbeat all he could hear.

  William let go of Titiana, and Daryn took his first c
lear breath since holding her against his body. But that relief was short-lived. William had only let go to divest himself of his own clothing and now stood naked behind her.

  “Come, she gives freely,” William said. “You need blood.”

  Daryn moved in closer, breathing on her neck. His lusts rode him hard, but despite William’s hands playing with Titiana’s rosy nipples, he couldn’t partake. Not like this.

  William shrugged as if to say, “Your loss.” and put his mouth to her neck. The sound of his sucking her neck pierced into Daryn’s self-control. He wanted, needed, blood, but he held himself apart.

  William pushed Titiana down to her knees. She landed on her crumpled dress and immediately bent forward so she lay open, her body slightly slanted so Daryn could see her pussy. William eased into position, going slow to torture Daryn. At least, that’s how it appeared to his fevered mind.

  William’s thick cock slowly disappeared into Titiana’s blonde curls, until he could only see them joined. But as William came back out, his dick glistened with her juices, Daryn swallowed. Again cursing his need for sex with his blood, he involuntarily stepped forward. William pulled all the way out, his tip poised at her center, and he met Daryn’s gaze.

  “I know you, vampire. You are cursed with the sex lust. It accompanies your bloodlust. I’m an equalizer. You can’t hide your needs from me.” He thrust hard into Titiana, and she groaned loudly. He started pounding her, never taking his eyes off Daryn.

  “You can take her blood while I fuck her. She wants you.” She turned and looked at Daryn, licking her lips, and again, tilted her head. This time, Daryn knew it for an invitation.

  “She is beautiful, c’est vrai,” he responded. “Regretfully, I cannot partake of her sensual bounty. If you would allow me some blood so I will not have to hunt tonight after the ball, I would consider it a favor. But blood without sex for me. I’ve made promises.”