by Bronwyn Lee
She hadn't had sex with any more of them either. The soft kiss she'd given Stephen was a promise for more, but now he wouldn't even look at her.
She shrugged off his cold shoulder and set to work on her mountain of paperwork. It filled most of the day. Once she got it done, she started trying to contact some of her informants to see if they'd heard anything about Givanni.
Most of her contacts were unreachable, and others point blank refused to talk to her, making her wonder if they were under pressure from someone. Her preoccupation with Stephen's attitude, and her desire for him, distracted her, making it difficult to work.
Her behavior disgusted her. Pining over someone who treated her badly when she'd done nothing wrong infuriated her, and she resolved to put it out of her mind.
She looked at the time. Great, it's knock-off time. She stalked off. Tonight, she thought with a sniff. Tonight I am going to find a sexy guy or two. I'm not just going to take blood, but I'm going to fuck them and get Stephen out of my system.
She glared over her shoulder to see Stephen grimly following her as she stomped to her bike and slid onto it. She started the engine and, although she could clearly hear Stephen calling her name, she revved it louder, ignoring him, and took off into the late afternoon sunshine.
She stopped at the local Irish pub near the station. It was a fun place with great people, but she didn't come here to pick up, as she was known in the area as a cop. She didn't care about that this afternoon as she slid onto a seat and started eyeing the males. She found one that appealed and made eye contact with him, sending him an inviting smile. Unable to resist, he started to make his way over to her. He will do nicely. Good looking and well built; he'll do the trick.
Just as he reached her, a hand clamped on her shoulder. She jumped in surprise as she wrenched round to find Stephen glaring down at her.
"What is this?” he growled. “Do you make a habit of picking up men?"
"What if I do?” She shot to her feet as indignation coursed through her. How dare he? She poked him in the chest. “There's nothing between us, and if I want to pick up strangers, that's none of your business. The guys I pick up are more than willing to give me what I want."
She turned to see her intended victim sidling away. She sighed. Part of her wished he would stay, but now that Stephen was here, she didn't really want him anyway.
Stephen spun her back to face him, about to say something, but she beat him to it. “You don't have the right to touch me, nor do you have the right to control what I do or who I see."
"Oh no?” He hauled her close, his gaze locking on her mouth. “I have the right. You respond to me; your eyes tell me you want me, and if I were to kiss you..."
He dipped his head and crushed his lips to hers. She didn't deny him. She couldn't refuse him. She wanted him too much to stop him, so she opened her mouth and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer.
He growled and gathered her in, molding her to fit against the lean contours of his muscled body. Electricity snapped through her, filling her blood with heat that could no longer be resisted. She rubbed herself against him.
"Come with me to my place,” she whispered against his mouth.
He grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the pub. She didn't care about the spectators they'd gathered. She pointed him to her bike, and he sat behind her as she maneuvered the beast through the traffic. His hand burned a spot on her leg. His other hand moved ceaselessly from cupping her breast to gently tweaking the nipple, trailing down her waist, across to the junction at her thighs, and back again.
His rigid penis pressed into her back, and her hunger for him increased. The ache in her mound became unbearable, and she grew wetter with his teasing, and the vibrating of the bike heightened her excitement. She wanted to throw her head back and cry out.
They parked underneath her complex and dismounted. When they'd removed their helmets, she took a step and then found herself jammed against the wall as he kissed her.
His mouth ground onto hers so hard she could feel his teeth. She thrust her tongue out and licked his mouth. He responded by opening up, and she tasted him. She gripped his head, holding him tight to her, and he pushed his thigh between her legs. He moaned as she rubbed herself against his leg, trying to ease the throb in her pussy. She slipped her hands up under his shirt, scratching him lightly, making him suck his in his breath. He squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples; they puckered and hardened with the attention.
She nipped his bottom lip and sucked on his tongue, tasting him, only stopping when they heard another vehicle entering the garage.
"Where's the elevator?” Stephen asked between pants of breath.
She pointed him in the right direction, and he dragged her along. The elevator was waiting, and they dove straight in. Stephen pressed the button when she told him which floor.
They stood apart from each other, her chest heaving as she tried to draw breath. She refused to look at him, knowing that if she did, they'd end up fucking in the elevator. When the doors opened, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to her apartment.
She closed the door behind them, and he wrapped his hands around her waist, dragging her up against his body. They fought with each other's jeans, tearing open buttons and zippers, shoving them down, unable to get them out of the way fast enough.
She gave up trying to free herself. She couldn't wait any longer. Wresting away from him, she turned to press her face against the door, presenting him with her buttocks. She reached behind her and grabbed his thick, long cock. He throbbed hot and hard in her cool hand, and then he pressed the tip against her moist pussy, searing her. She let him go so she could reach up and play with her hardened, sensitive nipples.
She moaned and thrust back onto him, taking him deep. She wondered if she'd leave scratches in the wood door as she curled her hand and used it for leverage. And then she lost all thought as sensation took over.
Her hips ached from where he held her as he thrust into her, and she pushed back against him. She could feel each ridge of his cock as it drew out of her and plunged back in. His balls slapped against her clit, and she growled her excitement.
She jerked as his hand reached round and dabbled with her engorged clit, and she tried to push back even harder on him, to drive him in farther. She shuddered, her muscles tightened, and she came with a guttural moan as her world splintered and ecstasy crashed over her.
Still pumping into her, Stephen shouted, and she glanced over her shoulder. His head was thrown back, the veins in his neck standing out.
She wanted to taste the blood coursing hot through him. But not this time. Next time, she promised herself.
And then he sagged against her and kissed the nape of her neck.
After long moments of him panting in her ear, he withdrew, and she turned to look at him. He seemed worried, as if he'd done something wrong. She let a slow, contented smile spread over her face and then slid her hand between her legs to dip her fingers in the wetness escaping from her. She brought her fingers to her mouth and slowly licked each one. He appeared unable take his eyes off of her, and she repeated the seductive motions.
With a husky laugh, she said, “That was great.” She lowered her lashes and tipped her head slightly. “Care for a second round?
His eyes darkened, and he shuffled toward her, but a knock on the door had them hauling up their jeans, laughing in embarrassment as they did so. She pulled open the door, and her laughter ceased. She stepped back in shock as a barrel of a gun pointed at her.
Dan Givanni, with two of his goons, stepped through the door. One quickly aimed his gun at Stephen, the other trained on her chest.
"If you make one move, he gets it,” Givanni said.
She nodded and held her hands out to the side, trying to indicate she wasn't a threat. Her mind raced as she searched for a way out. She wasn't afraid for herself, but she knew Givanni would kill Stephen without a thought.
Givanni crooked his finger at h
er. “Come here."
She stepped forward, and Stephen blurted, “No. Leave her alone."
Givanni smirked. “She has you well and truly mesmerized, doesn't she? Hard to resist those eyes when they look directly into yours."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Stephen glance at her, but she kept her concentration on Givanni, wanting him to look at her. He was canny, though, and wouldn't meet her eyes. Obviously his goons were under instructions, as they refused to look directly at her either.
Frustration ate at her, and she moved herself in front of Stephen. This did not go unnoticed, however, by the men with the guns.
"Step aside. We can still get a shot at him; you aren't that good."
With reluctance, she did as instructed.
"Did you really think you could stop me? I own half this city and the people in it. You may be a—"
Kayla lunged at Givanni. She didn't want that vile man telling Stephen what she was; she wanted to do it herself, when the time was right. She didn't know when the right time would be, but it wasn't now. Not by Givanni.
Givanni didn't even flinch as he fired his weapon. Heat seared through her shoulder. It throbbed, and she could smell her blood as it oozed out of the wound. The second shot missed her, but Stephen went down with a moan and heavy thud.
She surged toward him as he clutched his stomach. Their eyes met, and anger filled her. The change rose within her. She saw movement out the corner of her eye. An instant later, a flash of pain along the back of her head had her seeing stars. Then she slid into oblivion.
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Chapter Seven
When Kayla came around, she didn't feel groggy, but she lay still, trying to work out where she was. She couldn't smell or hear anything or anyone, except Stephen. He was near. She carefully opened her eyes and looked around. It was dull, and there were shadows everywhere. Beneath her hand the ground felt cold, hard, and gritty.
She sat up. Her shoulder throbbed, and her head pounded, causing her to feel dizzy. She checked her shoulder and realized the bullet remained in her flesh. She winced when she touched it and knew she would have to remove it soon. Not only did it hurt, it would slow her healing process and drain her strength. She pressed on the back of her skull and felt bone move. When she lowered her hand, it came away wet with blood. Had she been human, she wouldn't have survived the blow.
She moved to Stephen and found him unconscious. With gentle care, she checked him and found a bullet wound in his stomach that still seeped. He needed help soon or he'd die.
She heard voices outside and stilled to listen. They were talking about when they would start interrogating her. Dan Givanni had a sadistic nature and liked to play, so she knew it would not be pleasant. She was more afraid he might try and use Stephen against her. She couldn't allow that to happen. Not when her heart was involved. Sagging against him, she realized she cared for him, maybe even loved him, and she wasn't about to let him die because of her. She wanted to explore these feelings more fully, and she needed him alive to do that.
Everything seemed to be against her. It was daylight outside, and her powers were reduced. She was injured, unable to heal properly, and hadn't fed last night, so her strength wasn't at its peak.
She straightened up, knowing what she had to do. Even as she wished she didn't have to, she put one finger into the wound on her shoulder and felt around till she found the bullet. Then, gritting her teeth, she pushed her thumb into the wound, widening it as she pulled on the bullet. It stuck for a second and then, with a wet sound, it popped out. She slumped to one side, nursing her arm as she lay gasping for a moment, wishing she couldn't feel pain. Life would be so much easier.
She rested for a while but found her wounds weren't healing as fast as she wished. They would slow her down. She needed to feed to give her the best chance of success to escape. Hesitating, she feared feeding off Stephen would cause him further problems.
She looked at his pale features and noted his labored breathing. His stomach wound wouldn't be fatal with treatment. The bullet missed anything vital, but she knew if she fed from him when he was already weak it could lead to complications. She didn't want him to have to turn him because she made an error.
She had no choice, though. They had to get out of here. Leaning closer to him, she whispered in his ear that it would be all right. He didn't reply, but he moved his head slightly toward her in response. She stroked his damp hair from his face and lightly kissed his brow.
Moving down his body, she lifted his shirt and placed her mouth over the bullet wound in his stomach and sucked gently. His blood made her senses spin. It tasted better then anything she'd ever consumed. The coppery taste in the back of her throat, and the warmth as it hit her stomach, made her drink deeper than she meant to.
Is this what Damien had felt when he started drinking her blood? Did having deep feelings for the person make it better? She knew when he'd drunk from her she'd felt warmth suffuse her body and power over him. Her orgasms had been stronger, and she'd felt alive. He'd stopped hunting, as she freely gave him what he needed. She had loved it; she'd loved the bond between them.
Stephen moaned weakly and moved restlessly. She released him, slightly ashamed he'd not offered her his blood. He didn't know what she was, and she wouldn't take any more of it. Feeling better, her wounds healing, she brushed a light kiss over his lips.
Looking around more thoroughly, she spotted a window, caked with grime, set high on the wall behind piles of junk. She floated up to the window and moved the objects, which she saw were car parts. They were in a warehouse of car parts and other machinery. Glancing out the window confirmed her suspicion that they were at a wrecking yard. With a little force, she opened the window and made her way outside. Further observation led to the conclusion that no guards were nearby at the moment.
Kayla decided on an escape route that would give them the best cover. She wouldn't be able to fly with him in the light, and keeping to the piles of cars and their shadows would not only help avoid detection, it would also help her keep some strength.
She lowered herself to where Stephen was, hoisted him over her shoulder, and made her way back up to the window. As she slipped out into the light, Stephen became heavier as her strength waned in the brightness. Still watching for guards, she moved down the roof and jumped the last few yards.
She hit the ground harder then she anticipated, and Stephen thudded to the ground when she lost grip her on him. He didn't make a noise, and Kayla worried that he'd lost too much blood. His breathing was shallow, and his complexion had taken on a waxy cast.
She tried to set aside her fears as she sat in the shadow of the building and listened for any sound.
Don't panic. If I panic I won't be able to think clearly. I'll be no good to either of us. Right. Let's go.
She heaved him up onto her shoulder again and made for the relative protection of the stacks of cars.
She almost made it to the gate when there was a shout. Peering behind her, she saw a man running toward her with a weapon pointed at them.
Only one? That's good. Silently apologizing to Stephen, she dumped him on the ground and pushed him close to a pile of flattened cars.
Kayla stood stock still, waiting for the armed man to come closer. She noted he was young, but there was a hardness about him which belied his youth. She stepped toward him, and he pointed his weapon at her chest.
"Don't move, bitch,” he said with a sneer. “The boss acts like you're a vampire. Ain't no vampire can go out in light. Everyone knows that."
Stephen moaned, and Kayla wanted to throttle him. The thug jerked his weapon in Stephen's, direction, his light blue eyes cold and calculating.
"The boss said he wanted to deal with you. Pity for him you tried to escape. Now I can finish him.” Waving the gun at Stephen, he said, “And have fun with you. You have a nice ass, and I want some."
He cocked his gun but, before he could pull the trigger, the raging beast ins
ide her attacked. How dare he threaten Stephen.
Her elongated teeth jutted from her jaws, and her eyes turned into slits. Her hands shaped into talons, and she towered over her adversary. Her skin paled to gray, and membranous wings flared out from her shoulder blades.
The man stumbled back. He tripped and hit the ground, trying to scuttle away, trying to escape. His eyes widened in horror and fear. His mouth opened as to scream, but nothing came out.
She advanced on him, grabbed him, and easily lifted him to her face. He shuddered away from her, clawing at her hand around his neck. She leaned into him and licked his cheek with her forked tongue, tasting the fear pouring out of him, savouring it. The smell of urine was pungent as he wet himself, exciting her bloodlust even more.
When she spoke to him, her voice was as distorted as her body. “Your boss doesn't know anything about our kind.” She bit him. The blood spurted from his jugular, and she clamped on harder, drinking it in, relishing the taste. It had been so long since she had feasted like this, draining the life out of a victim. It only took a matter of minutes, and then she ripped his throat out, almost severing his head from his body so he wouldn't be reanimated even by accident.
She hid his body in another stack of cars and, once she'd changed back to her normal appearance, she knew she would have to deal with the guilt of what she had done. But not now. There was blood spatter on her, but she was sure it could pass for Stephen's because of the way she'd carried him.
She felt a steady gaze on her and found Stephen watching her with confusion in his eyes. Carefully approaching him, she realized he didn't seem to recognize her, didn't seem to be aware of what had just occurred. He was rambling on, muttering and incoherent. Kayla managed to get them out without any further incident and made her way to a neighboring mechanic where she called an ambulance.