Blood Vengeance

by Bronwyn Lee

  Concentrating on Dan Givanni so hard for the past few weeks hadn't left her time for much else. With him on the loose, she needed to be at her best if she expected to survive whatever he might try.

  She left the station as soon as she could and made her way to a club in the suburbs. There were over eight hundred places in the region, making it easy to move around and pick up without attracting attention.

  She wanted to find the right person. Someone strong. Disease didn't affect her, but she liked the blood of the healthy—it had a fuller flavor and didn't leave the person feeling ill after she took it. Someone virile. Someone like Stephen. She caught the thought and checked herself. He was off limits; she worked with him. He would taste extraordinary, though. She snorted in disgust at herself.

  Now that she'd decided to feed, her stomach churned with need, gnawing at her insides. She worried the hunger would become unpredictable if she ignored it any longer.

  The glass and chrome pub, located in an upmarket area, attracted the type of people she felt like tonight; young business people who looked after themselves.

  She scanned the crowd but couldn't decide. A well-dressed group of males caught her attention, so she wandered up to them. As she approached their table, they all looked up in interest.

  Kayla smiled. “I'm Kathy.” She leaned closer. “Would you and your friends like to come with me now?” Her blood sang in anticipation because she knew she would feed soon.

  They looked at her in disbelief. She smiled. “Come now, gentlemen. Don't tell me you've never been propositioned."

  "Of course not. We pick up women all the time.” This from an attractive blond. His mates all nodded their head in agreement.

  Her lip twitched. “Really? Well, it looks to me as if you can't handle a real woman. Pity, I was really hoping for some fun.” She pegged the blond for a man who wouldn't back down from a challenge. She was right.

  He leaned forward. “Oh, I'll give you some fun, but I won't share you with everyone. Dregs aren't that appealing."

  She sniffed, considering. She didn't want to have to mesmerize to get her way, but she knew she needed at least two to feed from. “If you bring a friend, you have a deal. I'm sure between two of you there will be no dregs."

  She grabbed his hand and placed his index finger in her mouth, licking it ever so slowly, then guided his hand down her neck and over her breasts. His breath became heavy, and his pupils became larger. She had him. Tipping her head to the side, she dragged a heated glance over each one. His dark-haired friend gasped and croaked. “Me. I'll go with you, too."

  The others laughed, clapped, and catcalled good naturedly as she smiled and blew them a kiss while the two escorted her out of the pub.

  "Where to?” the dark-haired one asked. His name was Jake, and the other was Bill. She didn't think they were real names, but she didn't care. Names weren't important; blood was.

  "Your place,” she said on a breath, her excitement mounting. She could smell their arousal, and hers increased further as they bundled into a car and took her to a townhouse.

  As she stepped in the door, she was pleasantly surprised to find it tastefully decorated. She looked over her shoulder, smiled, and started to strip. Amused, she watched as Jake and Bill scrabbled out of their clothes as they led her to a bedroom.

  She'd chosen well. Under their suits, they were slim but well toned. Her pussy moistened in anticipation.

  By the time she joined them next to the bed, both men were hard and erect. Their cocks twitched as she stroked them, as she ran her fingers over the silky skin on the shafts leading to the softer texture of the heads. She pushed Jake onto the bed and knelt over him, presenting her rump to Bill.

  Jake moaned as she placed her cold mouth on his cock then dragged her sharp teeth along his shaft. She loved the taste of cock, the salty pre-cum on the tip, and the way his hips bucked, driving him further into her mouth. She sucked him, and rolled her tongue over him as she did so. Then she moaned as she felt Bill's mouth on her slit, his fingers stroking her clit.

  She wiggled her arse in the air, pushing back onto him, and he thrust his fingers into her, his tongue lapping at her cunt. She wanted cock rammed into her hard so bad she thought she would burst. In her excitement, she nipped Jakes dick. The thin skin bled, and the taste sent her wild.

  She pulled her mouth off of Jake and reached behind her to try to grab Bill's dick. “Stick your cock in me now."

  As soon as he'd breached her entrance, she resumed sucking on Jake's cock. Her head jerked forward rhythmically as Bill pounded into her. The wet, slapping sound as he pulled his cock out and shoved in again spurred her on to suck even harder. The noisy sounds of sex, the throbbing rhythm of Bill's excitement, and the taste of Jake's musky pre-cum started to send her over the edge.

  Jake pulled his dick out of her mouth, and she whimpered at the loss. It wasn't for long, though. He changed position so he knelt in front of her, and she happily allowed him to shove back in. His cock stretched her mouth, and he grasped her head, forcing himself all the way to the back of her throat.

  They rammed from both ends, their rhythm speeding up. She grunted around his cock as the tingling in her spine started. She jerked as she orgasmed, and he held her head tight to his cock.

  He cried, “Oh fuck,” as her throat convulsed around him.

  She pulled away from him with regret. She loved the salty taste of semen, but tonight she had more urgent matters. She leaned up and into him, winding her arms around him, pulling him close, trapping his cock between their bodies and, as he started to come, bit his neck. Her pussy clenched, and she moaned as she reached her own peak again, but she didn't let go. Jake collapsed on the bed when he finished.

  Her second orgasm left her weak, but she straightened up and arched back as Bill continued to pump faster, gripping her hips. He growled as he started to come, and she managed to turn her head and bite his neck. The blood was so much sweeter as they orgasmed, as if the endorphins they released when they came sped through the blood and intoxicated her like a drug. Bill's dick softened as he relaxed, and she continued to feed from him.

  He flopped down on the bed next to Jake, and they both lay there looking at her sleepily as she licked their limp dicks, enjoying the flavor of their come, and her own juices on Bill. When she was done, she checked their necks, pleased to see they had almost healed. All that would be left would appear to be a big hickey on each. She dressed and, as she let herself out, noticed that they were both already asleep.

  Kayla was satiated but, as always after her feeding, a restless wildness filled her. When Damien was alive, they'd roamed together and made love, turned on from watching each other feed. But he'd been gone ten years, and she'd taken no other long-term mate since. No one, not her own kind or human, had interested her. Until today. Until Stephen.

  She wanted him, she acknowledged. He stirred her blood like no other, and she realized she finally felt ready to let go of Damien. She knew he would have wanted her to move on before this. She missed his wisdom; she missed everything about him.

  When she'd seen Givanni's henchmen thrust a stake through Damien's heart, she knew Givanni had to be removed. But she didn't kill him. That was not what Damien would have wanted her to do. So she'd joined the police force and worked her way up to detective. Nine years it had taken to get to a position where she could get him, and over time she'd watched him get stronger and more arrogant in his position. Taking him down would be difficult, and once he was in prison, others would take his place. But she would try and stop them, too. She had time to do so. Damien taught her that she had all the time in the world. He hadn't realized, though, that his time would be cut short.

  Damien had stepped up to stop a murder, and she'd hidden away. Always protective of her, not wanting her seen, treating her as if she were still only a young human, Damien had insisted she hide. She'd heard Givanni tell his henchman to kill her love.

  The killer turned his weapon on Damien and fired. Dam
ien laughed, but it was cut short. She'd watched in horror as his laughter turned to a scream of agony as another of the henchmen stabbed him with a stake.

  She heard Givanni mutter about vile vampires, and he knew how to deal with them. They watched and laughed as Damien writhed on the ground dying.

  She'd wept, almost losing control, but her survival instinct won out. There was also the fact she'd wanted to avenge Damien in a way that would honor his life.

  Sitting atop the Story Bridge, she looked out at the lights which decorated the night and reflected off the Brisbane River. The city traffic was light at this time of night, and she listened to water lapping against boats and the muffled sounds of music and shouts from people enjoying themselves. She saw a few vampires moving through the night, a few swooping close to the bridge, but she didn't acknowledge them. She didn't want company now.

  She sat deep in thought about Damien, Givanni, and Stephen until dawn broke, and then she made her way home to rest.

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  Chapter Five

  Stephen had settled into working at a new station easily and, after a week, found himself in a comfortable routine. Kayla was intriguing, funny, intelligent, and very attractive. His blood heated every time their eyes met, and he had a hard time concentrating on her words when she spoke because his attention would wander to her mouth. He found himself wondering what she would taste like and how that lush mouth would feel wrapped around his cock.

  Once the results had come in from the autopsy of Sharon Fields, they discovered their hunch about the husband was spot on. The weapon was deemed to be a narrow pole, and the bruising on the body indicated that the pole as segmented. When running through their databases, a pattern match appeared of a metal walking stick. The width was right, segments were evident, and metal trace confirmed it. Now all they needed was the weapon. Unfortunately, searches around the area of the nightclub and his residence had produced nothing, and they'd reached a dead end on trying to find the murder weapon. Until the weapon turned up, they couldn't do anything more.

  They'd questioned Harold again, and Stephen admired how Kayla tried leading him into letting something slip, but the man was too canny and refused to answer. When directly asked about his walking stick, he'd produced one, looking smug as he did so. Too smug.

  Now they were trying to brainstorm to come up with ideas on what to do next. They searched through the security camera footage of the area, but there was nothing useful on it. It only showed people entering and leaving the front of the building, but they thought that Harold would have met his wife at the back door or at the car, were he to have shown up at the club. There were no security cameras where they needed them to be.

  "Stephen?"

  "Yes?” He loved the way his name rolled off her tongue. He wanted to hear it when she was moaning it to him, when he was above her, playing with her pussy. He dragged his attention back to what she was saying while other parts of his body paid far too much attention to her sensual nature.

  "If you were lame and walking home from the nightclub, which way would you go to get to Dutton Park?"

  He thought for a moment. “Well, I'd want to avoid the hills as much as possible.” He paused and pictured the streets in his head. “I wouldn't throw out the walking stick till I got closer to home, as I tend to rely on it a fair bit, especially since I've walked into the city and back out again."

  Kayla nodded. “That's what I was thinking. Rubbish pickup for the area is tomorrow, so we had better get busy looking in bins."

  They decided to start a block from the suspect's house and work their way back, checking a few houses in from any corner they would come across.

  Stephen watched Kayla as she poked into bins and under bushes. She even shoved her arm into drains to see if she could feel anything. His admiration for her grew as he saw her determination. She didn't seem to be bothered by the dirt and smell, and she wasn't worried about things that may live in dark holes where even he was even reluctant to go. But most of all, he really enjoyed watching the way her jeans stretched over her rounded rump when she bent over.

  In his mind, he could see her naked, on her knees with her rump in front of him as she pleaded for him to fuck her. He kept turning away from her as his thoughts translated into hard-ons, and instead made use of the excuse he was checking out a bin or shrubbery.

  They were just about to give up when he opened the last bin. He saw a handle poking out. When he moved more rubbish, it revealed itself to be a walking stick. Carefully, he pulled it out and held it aloft in triumph. The laugh Kayla gave made him feel as if he had saved the world. He threw his arms around her and gripped her in a tight hug.

  The electricity crackled up his body where she came in contact with him and, as he looked at her, her pupils dilated.

  She pressed into him more firmly and looked at him as if she were making a decision. Then she leaned up and brushed her lips against his. The kiss was too short, but he also knew that no more could be given. They were on duty and standing in public, but something changed between them.

  He cleared his throat. “We really should get this back to the station."

  She nodded. “And possibly get some of this filth off of us."

  "Can I help you?” He was serious, but she laughed and playfully swatted him.

  At the station they handed the walking stick over to be processed into evidence, to see if it was the murder weapon—to see if the brown substance on the metal was blood and if it matched Sharon's DNA. Both knew it was, but they needed confirmation in order to make an arrest.

  The sergeant was thrilled with them but had no news in regard to Givanni. He was concerned that Kayla was in danger, but she didn't seem worried. Stephen wondered how she could be so blasé about this dangerous criminal who possibly had her in his sights.

  He wanted to stop her from walking around and hide her away, but he figured she wouldn't appreciate it. That didn't stop him from wanting to wrap her up and keep her safe.

  They parted ways, and Stephen decided to go to a pub before heading home. He had two days off and planned to unwind a little.

  I may have to visit Kayla and convince her to give me more than a kiss.

  He found a nice pub not too far from where he was staying, and slid into a corner booth away from the bustle.

  To his surprise, just moments after he'd taken his seat and ordered a drink, Kayla walked in. He started to call out to her to join him, but she didn't look his way. He thought she might be meeting someone, as she seemed to be searching the room. A lump of jealousy lodged in is belly at the thought it could be another man.

  She slid onto a stool at the bar, and he noticed that she'd changed into a pair of shorts. They rode up a little, exposing more of her thigh. He licked his lips as thoughts of being between those legs, tasting her sweetness spun in his mind.

  He couldn't keep his eyes off her, and he was intrigued see her watching a group of men hanging around the pool table. As he watched, one of them noticed her. The young guy stood transfixed for a moment as her gaze captured his.

  A rueful smile curved his lips. I know exactly how you feel, mate. It's those green eyes; they'll do you in every time. He lifted his drink in silent commiseration.

  He kept watching as the man spoke to his mates and then made his way to her table. Poor bastard doesn't stand a chance. She'll brush him off, and he won't know what hit him. He sipped his beer and settled in for the show.

  A shock went through his system when she smiled and leaned into the man. Her body language made her interest more than apparent as she trailed her hand down the man's arm.

  What the Hell? Stephen almost choked on his beer as she followed the guy out the door, her hand clasped in her companion's. His stomach churned as betrayal coursed through him, as if something precious about her had been destroyed by what he'd just witnessed. A wild anger at the unknown male for putting his hands on Kayla burned through him. How could she have let some stranger touch her?


  Most of his fury, however, was aimed at himself for not making a move sooner. He was the one who should be going home with her to enjoy the luxury of her body.

  He slammed his drink down and shoved himself out of the booth, heading to the door but, even as he reached it and looked out into the night, he knew she wouldn't be there.

  He slunk back to where he'd been sitting, glad he didn't have to work the following day. He knew he wouldn't be in any condition to work after he finished with the bar tonight, and he didn't want to see Kayla anytime soon, either. His hopes of having something with her had walked out the door tonight.

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  Chapter Six

  Forensics confirmed that the walking stick was the murder weapon. The blood was Sharon's, and fingerprints found on it matched the husband. Harold had been arrested and charged with the murder of his wife and, faced with the evidence, admitted to killing her and why. Sharon had told him she'd gotten a raise, and he didn't believe her. He thought she'd started prostituting to get the extra money. Harold had been certain of it, even though she had denied it.

  Stephen leaned in close, eyes narrowed. “Actually, idiot, she'd gotten a raise and promoted to manager"

  Harold slumped back in his seat and rubbed his face. They hauled him to his feet to take him to a cell, his limp seeming more pronounced as they led him away. Bail had been denied, and he sat in jail awaiting trial.

  She was jubilant that their hard work had paid off, but Stephen just gave a brief smile and turned to speak to another co-worker. Kayla wasn't sure what happened over the weekend, but Stephen had become aloof toward her. She didn't understand the change in his attitude, and it dampened some of the joy she experienced with the capture.

  She'd fed a couple of times over the last few days. Because she was in daylight a lot, she couldn't afford not to. She was at her weakest during the day, but regular fresh blood allowed her to carry on even if below her normal state. She would need to feed at least every other day to cope. The trouble was, every time she went to find a suitable person to feed from, Stephen's face would crop up in her mind, and she'd have trouble seducing her victim.