by Ann Lory
She hoped the bastard was suffering the same torture she was.
Chapter Five
Alyssa pretended to ignore Damian as he slipped into a long leather coat, angry that he had foiled her latest attempt to escape. It was winter in Florida, and though the days were relatively warm, the nights carried a chill.
He’d taken her to the grocery store the night after her failed shopping spree escape. That’s what he liked to call it, and she knew it was just to irritate her. On the other hand, it had been rather funny to see a six-foot-seven leather-clad vampire in a grocery store. It had taken all her self-control not to laugh at how uncomfortable he’d looked, especially when she’d refused to push the cart, forcing him to do so.
At least she had food now. They’d even gotten her several books and magazines. When they’d returned to his home, he’d also allowed her to raid his rather expansive DVD collection and experience the movies in surround sound, and so she’d been spending her nights trying to ignore him, dreading each sunrise.
During the day, he kept her locked with him in his sleeping chamber. Fortunately, she had already been acclimated to sleeping during the day and being up all night trying to locate any signs of the vampires she’d been tracking. Unfortunately, he still wasn’t exhibiting the deep day sleep the others had always succumbed to. Mid-afternoon a few days ago, she’d actually made it to the steps of his chamber when he’d dragged her kicking and screaming back to the bed. Only then had he informed her that the door leading to the main floors was locked by his will alone, so she’d not been able to try that stunt again.
Blindly flipping the page of one of the magazines now, Alyssa remained on the living room sofa, but continued to follow Damian’s movements until he finally approached her. She lifted her head, keeping her face expressionless. “Yes.” She made the word as impatient and irritable sounding as possible.
“I’m going out for a while. You can continue your futile attempts to run if you wish, but I’ll find you. Do what you must. I’ve nothing so important planned that would keep me from finding you, plus I’m feeling up to a chase. By all means flee, so that I may follow.” He flashed a wicked grin at her.
He turned on his heels, and she found herself itching to flip him off. Not for his attitude per se, but because she knew he spoke the truth. She might escape, but he’d track her down. In addition, it was still too long before the sun came up, so even if she managed to leave, she wouldn’t be able stay free till daylight when she might be able to put some serious distance between them. On the other hand, she hadn’t seen much evidence that he was much impaired by daylight. Plus, they were a ways out of town, in a sparsely populated area so she’d be going a distance on foot before she could get to some kind of transportation. Certainly, she couldn’t ride his Harley on her own, and he always took care to ensure his car keys were with him. The closest house to them was at least a mile up the road, and there was very little traffic on the private road. He and his privacy were really interfering with fool-proof escape plans.
Once she heard the door click closed, Alyssa sprang up from the couch and moved to the small window by the front entrance. She watched as he took off running, then contorted and shifted into a dark hawk, soaring up into the night sky.
Intrigued and awestruck, Alyssa opened the door and began to follow him as he flew up the road. She poured on the speed as he climbed higher against the sky, but she ran and kept her eyes trained on him, only glancing down at her path from time to time. Where was he going?
She followed him for a long time; used to running and used to pushing her body to its limits, her breathing remained steady though quick. At last, he began to descend ahead of her, into a small wooded area. As she decelerated to a trot and tried to find where he’d landed beyond the trees which obscured her vision, she heard a slight noise to her right. Changing direction, she walked slowly through the trees, avoiding fallen branches and inconvenient roots. She came to a clearing…and held back a sharp intake of breath.
Damian held a woman in his arms. The sight shocked her and angered her at the same time.
What?! What was this she was feeling? Jealousy? Appalled, she immediately rejected the idea.
She watched, listened as he said something against the woman’s ear, too low for her to hear. The woman’s head fell back, and Alyssa’s eyes widened as Damian, elongated fangs flashing briefly, lowered his head to the woman’s neck and bit into her flesh.
Alyssa watched, transfixed and horrified; she didn’t know what to do. Should she save the woman? Would he kill his victim? Alyssa?
Alyssa had no weapon; she clenched her hands into tight fists. She wanted to be wrong about Damian; over the past few days, she’d reluctantly concluded he wasn’t the monster that D’Angel and the others were. After all, he hadn’t truly hurt her thus far.
After what seemed an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, Damian lifted his head and licked his tongue over what Alyssa knew would be tiny pinpricks, although she couldn’t see them from where she stood. Once again, he said something to the woman, who smiled at him, then sauntered away.
Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief, but before her exhalation was complete, Damian was suddenly in front of her. She stumbled backward, but Damian caught her. She stared up into the shadow of his face, her heart pounding, her body becoming strangely excited at his proximity.
He pushed her against a nearby tree, his body covering hers even as his mouth took hers in a savage kiss. There was nothing delicate or gentle about it, assaulting her senses on so many different levels she couldn’t even fathom them all. His hands were everywhere ‑‑ up her back, over her arms, down her rib cage, cupping her breasts. God help her, she couldn’t fight him. He consumed her completely, and she found she wanted, no needed, more.
His mouth left hers, and she turned her head, gasping for breath as his lips burned fire down the side of her neck. She arched against him, then felt shame as he nipped at her flesh. She cringed. What was she doing? She couldn’t do this.
But his hand moved to the juncture of her legs, and all her thoughts, her guilt, fell away. She moaned low in her throat as heat pooled in her stomach, spread to the core of her womanhood.
Her pants’ buttons and zipper gave under his determined hands; she bucked against him as his fingers finally touched her swollen, naked flesh. She clung tightly to him as he explored her ‑‑ not tentatively, but with all the aggression of a man who knew what he was doing and went after what he wanted. His mouth teased hers, and her cry of pleasure was lost in him when a long digit slipped inside her.
Her legs would have buckled had he and the tree not been supporting her. She knew she’d otherwise have melted into a puddle onto the ground, flushed and writhing with need.
His lips trailed to her ear and his free hand slipped to the fastenings of her blouse, then pushed the material from her shoulders. The material fell loose to her elbows. The moist heat of his mouth found her nipple through the lace of her bra.
She stared up at the clear sky through the tree branches, her mind a mass of chaos. She wanted to shove him away, and yet she wanted to hold him close, too. Somehow what they were doing felt so right, so wonderful.
Her hands delved into the dark locks of his hair as his tongue continued to twirl and tease her, as his finger, joined by another, worked deep within her, till her body was ready to shatter.
She couldn’t hold back the cry that ripped from her lips when her body shuddered violently against his. His fingers and lips finally stilled, and he removed his fingers from her. He continued to brace her for a moment. She was grateful; then reality came crashing down. She had to fight to keep her shoulders straight instead of hunched in shame.
When she forced her hands against his chest, Damian stepped back.
“I can’t do this with you.” Her words sounded weak even to her own ears. He leaned close, and she inhaled his masculine scent, trying not to succumb to what she really wanted.
“Then the next ti
me I tell you to stay at the house, stay there. You ask for trouble when you follow me.” He walked away, leaving her alone. She sank to the ground, pulling her shirt closed.
What had she done? What was wrong with her? She wanted a monster, someone who was cruel and uncaring. She’d practically given herself to a vampire, to the enemy. Willingly. She looked toward the clearing, remembering the woman. He’d not killed her, but he had fed from her. Which was worse?
Sorrow beat at her with furious fists, battering her heart and soul till she thought she might curl up into a ball and die. Instead, she shakily buttoned her blouse and fastened her pants, then tried to stand, but her legs gave out. She grasped at the tree with desperate fingers, barely aware of the pain as splinters dug into her skin.
She had to get away. These feelings he brought out in her were overwhelming. But they weren’t for him. They couldn’t be for him. She wouldn’t allow it.
Alyssa stayed there for a long, long time, praying to God ‑‑ and to her mom, dad, and brother for forgiveness.
Damian stood at the edge of the trees listening intently. He’d been careless where she was concerned. He cursed himself, looked up at the sky and wished for the sun to appear.
He wanted her, damn it, desired her like he’d never had another woman, mortal or immortal. Yet, although he knew she’d hate him now more than ever for what they’d done, it had felt so good to touch her.
He rubbed his fingers together for a moment, staring at them and savoring the memory of her velvet heat, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her nipple as he’d sucked through her bra to the tiny pebble beneath. He could still smell her musky scent.
Damian clenched his fists. He’d also seen the bruises on her flesh where he’d grabbed her and shaken her a couple of days ago. He should’ve been gentler with her, but gentle wasn’t his style and hadn’t been for longer than he cared to recall.
He began to pace along the tree line. She’d never trust him to protect her if he kept losing control of himself.
He stopped, staring toward Alyssa as he heard her moving. Though he knew he shouldn’t, Damian entered her mind, a quiet shadow.
She was adjusting her clothes and praying fervently. She pleaded to her parents, her brother, begging them to forgive her. She asked God’s forgiveness, fearful that her soul was black and beyond salvation now ‑‑ because she desired Damian, wanted him.
He left her mind, unable bear her guilt and his own. He rubbed his hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. He should let her go. Let her take her chances with D’Angel. But he knew Alyssa would be killed; the thought sent a sharp pain through his chest. His own soul was long beyond redemption, but he knew he would face the very worst of hell because he couldn’t release her. Not while D’Angel was alive ‑‑ and probably not even if ‑‑ when ‑‑ his maker was destroyed.
* * * * *
Two weeks later Alyssa sat in the living room, glaring once more at Damian. It seemed to be her usual expression of late. To her constant relief and disappointment, he’d not touched her again since that night in the woods. Had kept his distance almost as if he was afraid to touch her, but that was ridiculous. After all, she was still required to share the bed with him each sunrise.
It annoyed her that he remained so distrustful, but then she hadn’t exactly proven herself trustworthy. She’d tried again to escape several times, but he always seemed to be one step ahead of her.
She continued to scowl at him, but he seemed unaware of the daggers boring into his back as he gazed out into the night. He was like a dark shadow against the glossy curtains, seeming to blend in with the night itself.
The thought caused her to shudder; as she did, his gaze turned to meet hers. Would she ever quit being breathless when he looked at her with those black eyes? It was unnerving the way he made her feel, the way her body constantly betrayed her.
He motioned toward the book resting face down on her stomach. “Has it lost your interest?”
Sitting up straight on the couch, she cleared her throat. “No, it’s very good. I just wanted to rest my eyes a moment.”
A slight smile curved his lips, his dark gaze roving slowly over her face. She put the book beside her on the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m tired of reading.” She knew she shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t say more, but she was starved for some kind of conversation as the silent treatment she was punishing him with was becoming unbearable even for her ‑‑ though it hadn’t seemed to faze him in the least. “How old are you?”
He turned completely from the windows but did not move away. “Why?”
“I was just curious.”
He gave her an amused smile. “Interested in my past? Why, Alyssa, I didn’t realize you cared.”
She sighed with exasperation, started to rise from her seat. “I don’t. I was just trying to make conversation, but forget it.”
“I am over eight hundred years old.”
She sank back down on the sofa, speechless. He moved toward her gracefully and sat on the opposite side, around the curve of the couch. His long legs stretched in front of him, crossing at the ankles.
“I assume you are Italian from your name.”
He nodded slightly, studying her. “You would assume correctly.”
Alyssa was thoughtful. “What was your family like? Surely they were a lot nicer than you seem to be.”
His laughter was rich and deep. A warm feeling settled over her as the sound wound around her heart. She found she wanted to hear more of it.
He angled his body toward her more, his dark eyes taking on a far-off look. “My father was a nobleman, stern, and he expected much from me. My mother was very proud of her status and took her role in society very seriously, but she also did everything possible to ensure my father was happy. She made sure I was the epitome of a nobleman’s son, that I dressed, walked, spoke, ate, and danced properly. I loved and respected my parents for what they went through in order to assure our family’s future.”
“Did you have siblings?” She watched as his face became a stone mask, but there was a flicker of deep pain and regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” She found herself apologizing, wanting to somehow take that pain away.
He shook his head, his raven-black hair falling to frame his face. “No, my sister died twelve years before I became vampire. She was younger than I.”
As Alyssa watched him, she wondered if the siblings had been close. Wondered how he had become vampire. But he said no more. Silence shrouded the room, dark suddenly, like his mood.
She stared into the cold hearth of the fireplace and tried to imagine what he must’ve been like when he was human. If he had wanted to be turned, or if it had been forced on him. She shuddered at the last thought.
Flames suddenly burst to life in the fireplace. She looked at Damian; there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes. “How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “One of my many talents.”
“What else can you do?”
He stared into the fire, his eyes following the sway of each flash of light. “I don’t know where to begin.”
This was a side of vampires Alyssa would never have thought to witness. He had seemed so remote, frozen somehow despite his ruthlessness, but it amazed her how he was beginning to grow on her. His general attitude didn’t seem to rub her as badly as it had when they’d first met. Was he trying to be kinder to her? Regardless, she needed to keep her guard up, not betray her family. She was going to keep her vow to find her way back to the one responsible for their deaths and kill D’Angel. What should have been so simple had turned complex in ways she’d never have imagined.
She had buried her parents, but the missing body of her brother Justin had felt like a knife twisted in her heart. She’d wondered if Justin had finally been laid to rest, or if the monsters had left his body to rot someplace. Alyssa had then dedicated herself to learning how to defend herself and to attack. Years of training to improve herself and harden her heart.
/> She’d learned a lot of her skills from an Englishman who had been dedicated to training and fighting against vampires. He had told her there was an entire league who knew of the existence of the undead and planned to terminate them, one by one, if necessary. He had further told her that the hunters were located in England, but they’d been branching out. He never told her names, locations, or anything else about himself, or the league, only that he’d lost loved ones to the vampires as well. When he’d deemed her ready to strike out on her own, they’d gone their separate ways. He hadn’t even accompanied her on her first kill.
She’d mainly searched at night at popular clubs for her prey, knowing that was where many of the monsters would hunt. The large, anonymous crowds would make it easy for the creatures, after all. And so she’d kept particular watch for anyone with black, black eyes and pale skin. Tailed them to make sure they were vampires. Found out where the monsters lived. And if they came out during the day, she checked whether they cast a reflection in the little mirror she carried in her backpack.
The first such one she’d followed had killed a young woman. Alyssa had hated herself for being too late to help her, but Alyssa had remained determined and found him the next day. He’d been in another club, searching for a new victim. She knew now that he’d been young and weak. She’d let him lead her out of the club, and as he’d leaned in to nuzzle her neck, not even attempting to enthrall her as Damian had his victim, she’d swept up with her wooden stake and buried it in his heart. He’d screamed ‑‑ and so had she. But she’d forced herself to watch as he exploded into dust and ash, watched as she’d destroyed him. Then she had cried long and hard after it was done.
Since then, she’d wandered from city to city in the hopes of finding the one who had led the group that had attacked her family and taking down a few of them. Alyssa knew Damian had not been among D’Angel’s minions when they’d butchered her family. Why? And why did he continue to protect a vicious killer?