by Casey Lane
Lisa
My heart races a thousand miles a minute. I can’t frickin’ believe Asa. Smoke was actually rolling off him like an ant burned by the sun and a magnifying glass. And he was bleeding! The urge to puke pushes against my throat but I swallow it and take a deep breath. First the reap, then Asa.
“Hal!” Sanji yanks against my hold but I’m amped on adrenaline. I grab her by the fur ruff of her coat and jerk her toward me. “Listen vamp, if you don’t get in that fucking elevator when my porter arrives I’m going to make sure he sucks your soul into one of the darkest circles of Hell.” Her brown eyes round at my threat. “So you can either cooperate with me or spend an eternity in tortured damnation.” I didn’t know if I could or would do that, but knowing Hal, he’d love nothing more than to drop her off in some vile location. I give her another shake. “Do you understand?”
She nods just as the elevator door slides open. Without waiting, I toss the ghost at Hal. It’s the first time I seen him flustered. He jumps back before Sanji collides with him. She stumbles and falls to her knees inside the elevator. I should feel guilty about her rough treatment, but the bitch tried to possess me and all I can think of is getting back to help Asa.
Hal opens his mouth to speak but I hurl the coin at him before he forms a single word. He catches it and curls his long fingers around the gold. “There’s your damn gold! Now take her where she’s supposed to go.”
I don’t wait for his compliance. At this point I don’t give a crap what he does with her. But he’s got his gold and he’d better take her somewhere. I sprint into the ski lodge and skid to a stop. Asa is nowhere to be seen.
“Asa?” I’m frantic. Was the sun too much for him? Did he turn to ash? I have no idea the nuances of sun and vamps. I only know what I’ve seen in movies. “Asa!”
A groan emanates from the other side of an overstuffed sofa. I rush forward and round the piece of furniture. He’s lying on the floor curled in a ball. The sight of him almost makes me vomit. Dropping to my knees I reach to touch him but stop, not wanting to cause him more pain.
“Oh my God.” I inch forward. “What were you thinking?”
His face contorts in pain. “Saving you.”
I want to cry but that won’t help the situation. “Idiot.” I inhale, trying to calm down and think clearly. “What do you need me to do?”
“Call Eric to bring me bagged blood,” he huffs out.
“Eric? Who’s that? How do I call him?”
“Phone…pocket…”
I reach, reluctant to touch his bloody clothing, but see no other way to help him. I feel a lump in his front right pocket and try to carefully pry out his cell phone.
After a tense minute I’ve got it—complete with cracked glass and a dark screen. “Your fall must have broken it. Is there a phone here?” I look around and spot one on a side table. I race over and pick up the handset. Dead. Not connected.
Asa moans in pain on the floor.
“What else can I do?” Panic taints my voice as I struggle to remain calm.
His words come out on a gasp of air. “Go to the inn and get me the blood.”
“The inn?” I crouch lower and cock my head so our eyes meet. “I can’t find my way through the tunnels.”
“Outside.” His eyes slide shut.
“And chance being possessed by some psycho spirit? Then we’ll both die.” I touch my finger under his chin, one of the few places that isn’t blistered and bleeding. “Asa, you need blood to heal. You need to bite me.”
That comment gets his eyes open again. “No.”
“You need it and I just happen to have some.” I shove my wrist at him because that’s what I’ve seen on all the TV shows. My neck would be good too, but that’s too awkward in his position. “Bite me.”
Despite his intense pain he rolls to his back and away from me. “No.” His breathing is labored and I’m really starting to freak out. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I scoot forward and tower over him. “If you don’t bite me I’m going to cut my wrist and shove it down your throat.”
He turns his head away. I curse under my breath. Stubborn vamp. I should let him die and then reap his ass. Sitting back, I search the ski lodge for something sharp. Cutting myself is not my first choice. Waxing my upper lip takes all my will power. This will probably make me pass out. I just wish he’d bite me and do the dirty work for me.
Seeing he’s not going to, I stand and start searching for a knife. The bar area looks promising so I make a bee line across the open lobby. I tug open the drawers and find a paring knife and an ice pick. The paring knife has a smooth edge and a deadly sharp tip. The ice pick looks a little dull to do much damage unless I drive it into my vein, which I already know I will not be doing because I’m a big wuss. Picking up the knife, I toss the pick into the drawer and slam it.
I jog back to Asa and kneel. “I’m going to cut myself and you’re going to drink.”
He shakes his head and then turns to look at the opposite wall.
So much for his cooperation. Force-feeding a vampire is not on my to-do list today. I brace my wrist on my knee and lay the knife against my skin. You can do this. I exhale and before I talk myself out of it, I drag the blade across my wrist.
It doesn’t hurt at first, but a few seconds later the pain hits me. “Sweet Mutha!”
Asa’s head snaps in my direction and a muffled curse whispers from him. The blood stream is small at first, barely pooling, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut myself again. I push against my wrist. Finally I get a decent flow. Lifting my arm above Asa’s mouth I let the blood dribble onto his lips. “Drink it.”
He tries to fight me at first but I see his pupils dilate until his whole iris is black. As if instinctively, his tongue flicks out and licks. “No,” he manages. “I’ll hurt you.”
“Uh, this already frickin’ hurts, so a little more pain won’t matter.”
“You don’t understand.” His gaze captures mine and I see real anguish there. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt. I don’t want to—damage you.”
Okay, that doesn’t sound good. Still, I can’t let him die when there’s something I can do about it. “I know you’re trying to protect me, Asa.” I soften my tone. “You’ve been doing it since I got here. Please—let me help you now. It’s my turn to save you for a change.”
More of my blood dribbles into his mouth. He licks and swallows. I can tell he wants more. Slowly I lower my wrist to him. His fangs extend beyond his lip. The sight should be unnerving but a little thrill of desire races through me. If he wasn’t blistered and bleeding I’d be all over him.
Just when I think he’s going to comply, he shoves my arm out of the way. “You don’t get it, Lisa. You have kids. They need you.” He coughs and his body tenses. “I won’t do it.”
I won’t lie, his words concern me—a lot. When he says damage me, what are we talking? Never want to talk to him again or worse, like drooling in a corner of a padded cell? I don’t ask, not wanting to know the answer. One thing I know is that I can’t sit by and watch him die.
“Did you know I’m one of the few angels of death that can reap a supernatural?” That gets his attention. He turns back to me. I nod. “That’s why I was sent, but I can’t do it alone. So why don’t you have a little faith that I know what I’m doing and bite me.” I cock an eyebrow at him. “Either that, or I’m going to stake you with this paring knife. Your choice.”
Chapter Ten
Asa
The tangy, enticing scent of Lisa’s blood fills the air. Combined with the gut-wrenching agony encompassing by body, I’m not sure how long I will be able to hold back from biting her. At her insistence, the fresh wound on her wrist drips a slow stream into my mouth. The rich taste instantly erases a large portion of the burning pain.
The magic of life-giving blood will never cease to amaze me.
“Aren’t you supposed to drink or something? If you wait for me to bleed into your mouth we could
be here all day. Won’t the cut clot on its own soon?”
The hunger gnawing in my gut leaps forward, goading the monster inside me to latch onto her offered flesh and drink my fill. I withstand the urge by a bare thread of sanity.
I swallow the small mouthful and shake my head once. “No, I don’t want to hurt you.” I open my mouth again to catch the next slow trickle.
“For crying out loud you just burned your skin off for me! Drink dammit, I can deal with the pain.”
She doesn’t understand. She has no idea what she’s asking of me. If she truly did she’d never volunteer.
I close my eyes to avoid looking at the caring expression on her face. If I bite her she’ll never look at me with such concern ever again.
“Dammit, you’re stubborn! Do I need to slice an artery to get you to drop the noble hero routine?” Lisa thrusts her open wound onto my lips. “Drink or I will cut myself again.” Her voice holds a hint of hysteria. “I’ll do it. Then you’ll be sorry if I bleed out all over this pretty floor.”
Hearing the truth in her words, I give in, unwilling to watch her with the knife again. Regret twisting my face, I close my lips over her wound. I draw deep, pulling her succulent blood across my tongue. My body tenses, waiting for the first cry of pain to rip from her lips.
Nothing.
Tentatively, I suck again, cracking one eye open to see if she’s in agony. Lisa’s face remains concerned, her gaze locking on mine.
“See? Now was that so bad? I don’t understand all the fuss you made. It doesn’t hurt at all. It’s kind of gross. But other than that it’s okay.”
Could she be immune to whatever it is that hurts other humans? Or could she be different enough as a reaper that my bite doesn’t hurt her? That’s what happened when I had sex with Joanna and bit her—no pain, just pleasure.
Joy surges through me. The fates have finally given me a chance not to hurt someone I’ve come to care about.
I push my desire for this incredible woman into our joining. I twist the normal discomfort she’s feeling into pleasure, like I did with Joanna. Granted, we were naked and having hot monkey sex at the time, but I’m hoping the same principle of intent works here.
“Oh…” Lisa whispers as she relaxes next to me, settling back from her kneeling position to sit on her ankles. “That’s not bad at all.” One hand rests on her lap, my own clothes too much of a bloody mess for her to touch. “Despite you looking grosser than the prom scene in Carrie, I’m feeling strangely attracted to you right now.” Her smile turns soft, while her eyes blaze with heat.
Hope flares to life in my heart. Could I make something work with her or did I fuck up too badly already with pushing her away in her room? Would she want anything to do with a vampire beyond a few lusty kisses?
Very quickly my body responds to the fresh blood. Yes, fresh is definitely better than bagged. Both are equally nutritious to a vampire, but the personal connection with feeding from someone is so emotionally intense… I’d almost forgotten.
Forgetting was easier than remembering the exact moment their desire turned to hatred and fear.
I want to slip into her mind, to share all the poignant richness she has experienced with her family and their love, but I resist. That type of sharing is best done with the donor’s awareness—and Lisa hasn’t signed the donor forms Vivian enforces at the inn. Without asking, I’d feel like I was violating her.
Gently my fangs pierce her skin near the wound, holding her wrist in place while I take what she’s freely offering. I tense, wondering if this will be when her pain starts. After a deep pull and no change from her, I relax, realizing my worst fears are unwarranted. She’ll be okay. I won’t scar her for life like the others.
The damaged flesh of my sun-exposed skin re-knits, and the last of the excruciating pain vanishes. Next, my own blood is reabsorbed through the healed skin, like a sponge. All that’s left is the mess on my clothes and whatever congealed or started to dry before I drank from Lisa.
I pour my sexual cravings into the slice on her wrist, wishing I had enough time to bring her pleasure with my bite for what’s she’s done for me.
“Hey now,” her voice sounds stronger. “You’re looking much better. No more exposed muscles and blistered, peeling flesh. And I’m not sure how, but the worst of the exposed blood is gone.” She snuggles her wrist more firmly against my mouth. “This donating bit isn’t so bad.” Her cheeks flush and she looks ready to purr. “In fact. I think I’m digging it.”
With reluctance, I pull away from her skin, aware I’ve had enough to heal completely. I don’t like stopping, but the thrill of not hurting her has sent such a spark of desire through me I know it’s best if I distance myself for the moment. No one wants a guy covered in bloody clothes to make a pass at them. Well, maybe someone would, but I doubt Lisa is that type.
My tongue laps at her ragged flesh, the enzymes in vampire salvia close her self-inflicted injury and my small bite wound. A tremor washes over her during my ministrations. Heat floods my face as I think about spreading her out on a bed and triggering those tiny tremors all night long.
Slowly I sit up, cradling her wrist in both hands, unwilling to break the magical connection we’ve shared. The sickening sound of wet fabric peeling from the floor does the job of killing the moment just fine.
The clouded, lust-filled look in the reaper’s eyes fades. But if I’m not mistaken there’s a hint of interest still lingering in their blue depths. Just maybe… maybe if I play my cards right I’ll be lucky enough to have her share my bed. After we reap the rest of the ghosts, of course.
“Thank you,” I say, wishing I could take her in my arms and hug her for the incredible gift she’s given me—not just with her healing blood, but in allowing me to drink from someone without having them despise my very existence. “You have no idea what that meant to me.”
She snorts and looks away, perhaps embarrassed by my intense scrutiny. “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t get a bonus if the client helping me died.”
My heart plummets. Is that all I am to her? Just a client? Time to change her thinking. I’m not above crude fraternity tactics. I’ll make her see me as a man, not a vampire.
I stand, feigning nonchalance, and look over my ruined clothes and the broken phone lying where Lisa discarded it.
“I’m sure your boss would have understood. After all, they didn’t exactly prep you for this job.” I glance away, like my next actions are totally normal. “Not that I’d want to be dead for good. Not yet anyway.” I grab the soiled hem of my t-shirt in both hands and yank it over my head. “Too many things in life worth living for—even in this altered ‘undead’ state.” I flash her a little fang when my head reappears. Using the inside of the tee, I wipe my face and arms of any remaining residue.
Lisa takes a sharp inhale of breath. “What… uh, what are you doing?”
I lean down and unlace my black boots, toeing them off while I glance up at her. “Getting rid of my bloody clothes.”
Her face turns beet red. “Oh, yeah. That makes perfect sense.”
Noting my socks are free of stain, I straighten, hands going to my waistband. Slowly I open my jeans, watching her every reaction. She audible swallows and her hand goes to her throat.
“You don’t mind, do you?” I ask, mischievous smile in place. Not that she’d notice. She’s staring too intently at my hands.
“Mind?” she squeaks. “No. Not at all.” She waves a hand at me. “You go on with whatever you need to do. I’ll uh…” She looks around wildly and hoists herself up from the floor. “I’ll shut the door so we can leave.”
She falters in her step when the metal of my zipper rasps in its descent. I know she’s dying to turn around. Hell, if the situation was reversed I’m sure I’d be blatantly ogling her, mother of three or not.
By the time she finishes with the door and closes the window shutter I’ve got my boots on and have balled my soiled clothes into a nearby trashcan. I venture behind th
e bar for bottled water and towels, hoping to clean up whatever remaining glop might be on my head and neck.
I crack open a water and lean over the tiny bar sink, wishing the ski lodge had showers like the gym. Cool water cascades over my head and trails into the metal sink. Perfect time to ask for help. She’ll be able to approach me on her own and stare her fill without censure.
“Hey, can you give me hand?”
Lisa clears her throat. “Uh… Sure. What do you need?”
“Come see if I got all the gore off.”
“Okay.” Relief sounds in her voice. “I can handle that.”
Lisa joins me behind the bar. I’m wearing the black boxer briefs my aunt gave me and in my spare time I work out like crazy—what the hell else is there to do in the Army or the long winters of Alaska? Sure, I might look silly walking through the tunnels in underwear and boots, but if it gets her checking me out and possibly thinking about having sex with me, then I don’t care. I’m not above a little blatant flaunting.
“You have a little on your back,” she says.
I thrust a bar towel toward her and the bottle of water. “Here. Can you get it for me?”
She moves closer, the heat of her body nearing my hip. Water trickles onto my back, to be followed by Lisa’s tentative wiping. “So… what do we do now? We’ve still got quite a few ghosts to reap, right?”
“But no more coins.” Her hands halt in their rubbing and I want to beg her to keep touching me. “We’ll need to call Vivian from the hotel and see if she has more stashed somewhere. Is there any on my neck or head?”
She leans in, pressing her breasts into my side. “Nope. You look fiiinne. I mean good!” she corrects, jumping back from me like I’ve burned her. “You look clean. No more blood.”
I smile into the sink, well aware of the effect she’s having on me and thrilled I’m able to ruffle her calm in return. Nothing like a brush with death to make you want to embrace everything living has to offer.
And in this case… that would be one super cute and very flustered reaper.