Eternal 3: Eternal Surrender
Page 1
ETERNAL 3:
ETERNAL SURRENDER
Ann Lory
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Eternal 3: Eternal Surrender
Ann Lory
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © September 2007 by Ann Lory
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 978-1-59632-478-7
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Olivia Wong
Cover Artist: Croco Designs
Dedication
To Kristen, aka Kmass, my favorite blond bombshell, or whatever your hair color is now. I miss you!
Chapter One
She’d love nothing more than to run across the room and plunge a stake through D’Angel’s heart.
Alyssa fought against tears as she watched the group that surrounded the large table in the upper level of the Miami nightclub. They were engaged in an orgy of sin as they played with every lust and desire.
And D’Angel sat in the center of it all; every man appeared to be there at her whim, whether he was vampire or human. She couldn’t be positive who was who, of course, though the pale skin and dark eyes of some of them told her a lot. After all, it was Miami. Most young people had tans, and those who didn’t, she could probably safely assume weren’t human.
Alyssa sucked in a breath of rage as she studied her enemy. D’Angel’s dark hair fell in long spirals down her back, a contrast to her milky-white skin. Her face was gorgeous; the cheekbones were high, her nose long and straight, and her lips full and bright red. In addition, the female vampire’s form was tall and willowy, with the exception of the large breasts that almost spilled out of the tight-fitting black top she wore.
Alyssa wiped furiously at her eyes and leaned heavily against a wall, staring hard at the scene. Clenching her fists, she squeezed her eyelids shut and willed her breathing to return to normal, to keep her agony at bay. Finally catching up to D’Angel after all this time made her heart twist painfully in her chest. Alyssa wanted to cause the vampire bitch every ounce of pain that she had inflicted on Alyssa and her family.
D’Angel laughed, and Alyssa’s eyelids popped open. The vampire was holding a glass of wine to a man’s lips, her blood-red nails trailing down his throat as she bent over him and her tongue replaced her wandering fingers. The man fell back against his seat, pulling her with him. She was clearly toying with him, batting her luxurious eyelashes as she came down and captured his lips.
Music pounded loudly, the strobe lights blinking and twirling as clubbers crushed together on the dance floor. Women flocked to the men that surrounded D’Angel. They pranced around the group, swaying seductively, bold in their desire.
Then Alyssa’s stomach churned; she recognized two of the men. The creatures had been there the horrific night that had been the beginning of her new life. One of the men laughed now as he drew an eager woman onto his lap. He wasted no time, raising a hand and cupping the blonde’s breast, the other hand traveling downward, eagerly delving between her spread thighs.
Alyssa watched, disgusted. If only this woman and the others knew the truth of the men they played with, they’d run screaming. Instead, the women were under the vampires’ thrall. There’d be no escape; the females would be lucky if the creatures only sated their physical lust.
Suddenly, Alyssa noticed a newcomer, someone she’d never seen before. He was walking up the stairs, his long body grace in motion. He was tall, extremely tall, towering over everyone around him. Her eyes widened as he approached the table where D’Angel held court; she did not look pleased by his presence and sneered as the man began speaking.
Alyssa moved forward out of the shadows, intrigued by the stranger and D’Angel’s reaction to him. Who was he? Was he a vampire, too? Was he an additional enemy who needed to be taken into account or could he be a possible ally to her? Alyssa wondered.
The newcomer reached over and plucked the entranced blonde off the male vampire’s lap and whispered something in her ear. She hurried away, and the vampire who had been deprived of his treat rose…and was shoved back down by the tall man.
* * * * *
“Idiot.” Vincente began to get to his feet, grasping Damian’s arm. He was clearly more than ready to fight his former childhood friend. Damian used his greater height to his advantage and pushed Vincente back into his seat.
D’Angel snapped her fingers, interrupting them. “What are you doing here, Damian? You were supposed to find my little nuisance.” She turned her attention back to the young man at her side, her hand moving inside his shirt.
Damian stared at her impassively. “I did. I know exactly where she is.”
“Then why aren’t you taking care of her?” She purred and nipped at the man’s throat.
Damian growled, gripped the table, then flung it over the crowd of dancers. It shattered against a wall as people screamed, ducked for cover, and scrambled down the stairs. The synth-pop music that continued to blare from the speakers seemed somehow incongruous against the backdrop of panic and chaos. “Don’t play your games with me, D’Angel.”
She laughed, then stood up and sauntered over to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I’d never play games with you, my sweet.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why are you being so difficult, my love?”
He jerked her arms from his neck and shoved her away. “Stop it.”
She reseated herself and crossed her arms, pouting. “Well, what are you doing here?”
“I told you; I know exactly where she is.” He paused. “She’s here. You know I wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
D’Angel jerked upright. Damian watched Roberto, Vincente, and Diego, along with the rest of her pathetic followers, surround her like a shield. “Take D’Angel and go. This shouldn’t take too long.” The group hurried D’Angel downstairs and out the side exit to the alley. He shook his head and turned away.
Damian scanned the remainders of the crowd and immediately found her. He watched as his quarry jumped from the top of the landing to a table below and made a run for the side door.
He beat her there.
He heard her gasp, saw her eyes widen, and reacted straight away, grabbing her by the hair and shoving her outside. She tripped and stumbled into the alley when he released her; catching herself, she instantly spun to face him. He let the door fall shut behind him and watched as she stepped back, her every movement cautious. She reached behind her, probably slipping a hand into her backpack to pull a weapon. He had to admire her courage, and, as he had begrudgingly for many long nights, her beauty.
She wa
s a petite thing, didn’t even reach his shoulders, and not at all what he had expected when he’d first been sent to take care of the problem she’d become. Long, silken black tresses were pulled back in a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back, baring ivory skin over elegantly cut cheekbones and a slender nose, slightly upturned at the tip. His gaze settled on her lips, which were lush and the color of ripe, pink rose petals. He almost groaned aloud as her tongue darted out over them. But it was her eyes that captivated him. They were green like the brightest emeralds, mesmerizing with their shimmering brilliance.
Damian stepped out of the shadows, noticed as her small frame shifted to a defensive stance, a silver stake flashing into her hand in the blink of an eye. He grinned, the closest thing to a smile in more years than he could remember, and swung his long coat wide as he removed it. The leather fell to the ground away from him. “Welcome, little one. I have been waiting for you.”
Her eyes didn’t fully meet his; he felt a twinge of admiration that she was aware he would’ve brought her under his power. Unfortunately for her, it was likely that she didn’t know simply avoiding his gaze wouldn’t stop him ‑‑ with his voice alone, he could have her do anything.
She spoke then, demanding. “Who are you?”
He bowed regally, mocking the situation they were in. “How rude of me. I am Damian Cristo Salvatorio. It is a pleasure to meet you, Alyssa Quinlan.” She blinked. “Yes, I know who you are, little one.”
The menacing way he said those last words sent shivers down her spine. Alyssa knew from the way he’d handled the vampires in the club and shattered a table with a mere toss that he was very powerful. In fact, his entire presence spoke of dominance; he seemed the embodiment of strength, confidence…masculinity.
Although she stood several feet away from him, she noted the stranger’s fitted black T-shirt, which revealed sinewy muscle, and his snug leather pants that emphasized a lean waist and long, brawny legs. His frame towered in front of her so that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. His raven-black hair touched the tops of his shoulders; strands were pushed behind his ears, but a single dark lock lay along his striking face. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His nose was long and straight as an arrow, centered between high, smooth cheekbones, and he had a wide slash for a mouth…which was curled now in a vicious grin, baring gleaming white fangs for her view. For a second, she looked into his eyes; pitch-black orbs, cold as death, stared back at her and attempted to seize her mind, to pull her into their swirling depths. She immediately averted her gaze.
Summoning her best malicious smile, Alyssa readied her body to strike. “Why, the pleasure is all mine.” Before her words ended, she flipped into the air, kicking and spinning at the same time ‑‑ and connected across his shoulder with a wicked slash of the stake. She landed before him in a crouch. The smell of burned flesh filled the air.
In a flash, she struck out with her weapon again, intent on ending his life, but he brought his hands up. Without touching her, he somehow sent her body hurtling through the air. She screamed as the breath was knocked from her body when she crashed against a Dumpster and fell hard to the ground. The stake slipped from her fingers and rolled away from her down the slight incline in the pavement. Groaning at the impacts from Dumpster and ground, Alyssa looked up to see the vampire approach her and rose warily to her feet.
Her eyes narrowed at the trickle of wet blood staining his black shirt; she snarled at him, pleased at the sight of the bubbling, searing wound she’d scored. “You bleed just as humans do. Vampire.” She couldn’t help but taunt him, feeling a victorious satisfaction, although her hands were now bare.
Touching his fingers to the wound, he looked at her, his eyes beginning to glow. She moved sideways along the wall while he smiled and brought his fingers to his lips, licking the dark liquid from their tips. She sneered in disgust.
“I imagine yours tastes much sweeter.” His voice was a seductive murmur, sending chills down her spine.
Enraged, Alyssa lunged toward him. Her fist shot into his jaw, whipping his head to the side. She lashed out her foot and hit his chest, slamming his body into the wall behind him. Before she could follow up on her surprising success and tear him to pieces, his hand snaked out, grabbed her wrist, twisted her body around, and yanked her to him. Her back was now pressed against his chest; his arms wrapped around her, binding her to him.
She fought his hold with everything she had, but he laughed. At that, Alyssa stopped struggling, held her head high. If this was to be it, she wouldn’t go down like a coward. Refused to. She’d make her family proud!
Lowering his head toward her, Damian whispered against her ear. “You’ve killed too many of D’Angel’s offspring; thus, you’ve ended your own life.” He held her tightly against him for a moment before continuing. “Did you not know when you began this murderous spree, you would die?” He kissed her earlobe, pulled it into his mouth with a slight suction; she trembled as waves of warmth rushed through her at the rasp of his breath, the deep baritone of his voice, and yet, chills also raced up her spine at his softly spoken words. “How is it you found out about vampirekind? Watch too much Buffy and Angel?” His mouth moved below, and pure fire sizzled along her flesh as his tongue caressed its way to her rapidly beating pulse.
Alyssa was mortified that her body was reacting this way, betraying her every instinct. Her mind screamed at him to stop, but her body seemed to melt against his hard, sinewy length.
“Your death does not bring me joy, but I must do it just the same.”
Her eyes closed and she gave a small cry; her body jerked in his embrace as his fangs pierced her flesh. White heat seared her; then, shockingly, she surrendered to him, despite the warnings clamoring in the back of her head.
She moaned as pleasure swept her away, drowning her in waves of foreign sensations. His lips were unexpectedly gentle as they caressed and suckled at her flesh. Alyssa wanted him to take her, to give her what seemed just out of reach. The needy intensity grew in the pit of her stomach, and her breasts tingled as though they might burst into flames at any moment. Instead, the ache traveled south, settled between her legs, throbbing, begging for release.
It felt as if she’d been waiting her whole life for his touch.
He’d watched as she lifted her head, looking straight ahead with all the courage of a warrior, evidently accepting her fate, but her pounding heart had betrayed her. Its rhythm had beat frantically in his head. The hum of her blood whispered of the sweetness the fluid would provide ‑‑ and had sent waves of its scent to him even as he became aware that she fit him perfectly in all the right places. Her curves were lush despite her slender frame, the flesh soft and supple. He’d had to suppress a groan at the feel of her and remind himself why he was there.
Alyssa had threatened and challenged D’Angel, and although he himself despised his maker, he protected her. Had always protected her in the hopes of…saving her. Damian had loved D’Angel once, and he still carried with him those same dreams of redeeming her. Though he might be a fool, this little one surely should’ve known she could never defeat one as powerful as D’Angel ‑‑ or one as powerful as Damian.
Damian drank, filling himself with her essence. She was more delicious than anything he had tasted in over eight centuries of dark existence. His body warmed with her life. Then, with a sudden rush, her memories flooded his mind. Her happiness as a child, her insecurities as a teenager…the disaster that had altered her life forever. Her family gone, slain by the ones he now fought alongside…
Her father, mother, and brother all lay in a pool of their own blood. She cried out in denial as she stared into the eyes of monsters, holding against her breast the family Bible, a silver cross on its cover. They laughed at her, at her defiance, mocked her. But they didn’t approach her. Then she was shoved to the floor from behind and the Bible slid out of reach.
D’Angel jeered. “Silly child. You watch too many movies and television. As if a
cross and your God could stop us.”
Her hands smeared into the blood of her loved ones. She rose up on her knees, staring in horror at her hands. Tears fell and the sobs came in great waves. The one leading the pack of killers, one whom she’d thought a friend, sneered down at her with glowing eyes. Alyssa closed her own for only a moment, wishing everything was just a terrible nightmare.
When she opened them again, a now-beaming D’Angel remained patiently before her.
“Take her brother. He’ll make an excellent wall ornament in my home.”
Alyssa screamed, leaped to her feet, and rushed forward as one of the creatures lifted Justin’s lifeless form, but D’Angel grabbed her wrist in a viselike grip Alyssa couldn’t break. She was forced to stand there, her free arm outstretched as far as she could reach toward Justin, staring with impotent hatred as her brother’s body was carried out.
D’Angel spun Alyssa to face her once more and leaned close, forcing her attention. “Thank you again for inviting me into your home and into your lives. For introducing me to your lovely,” she licked her lips and Alyssa flinched, “and delicious family.”
Rage twisted and speared deep inside Alyssa. She raised her fist. “Mark my words, D’Angel, I will destroy you for what you’ve done!”
Malicious laughter filled the room, and D’Angel’s pale and petite features were abruptly mere centimeters from her own. Alyssa gagged at the sight and smell of flesh and blood on the vampire’s breath. D’Angel’s smile was cruel.
“I’d like to see you try.” She flung Alyssa to the floor, turned on her heel dismissively, black hair flowing behind her, and stepped on Alyssa’s father as she exited. The others followed, leaving Alyssa alone with the aftermath of their destruction and her crushed dreams ‑‑ and setting her on the course that had eventually led her here, tonight, to the alley behind the club with Damian.