My Vampire: A Vampire Fae Urban Fantasy Romance (My Supernatural Boyfriend Book 1)

by E E Everly

  “I didn’t drink even though the sedative affected me as nothing I’ve ever had before. I was shaky for most of the morning, but I’m fine now.”

  “Until the sun blared down on you.”

  His perfect lips kiss my cheek. “I’m alive, that’s all that matters.”

  According to Korbinian, Killian doesn’t have long to live.

  Does Killian remember the death sentence pronounced on him? Does he believe Korbinian’s words?

  I’m not sure I do. Killian’s still healing, so conception hasn’t happened.

  If conception is even possible.

  That confounded word! Conception! This is insane! I can’t become pregnant just like that.

  I smile at Killian’s optimism. My action is forced. I shift in his arms. “Ouch.” I brace my thigh as it stabs with pain. “You left me bleeding and bruised.”

  “You weren’t in danger of dying. I made sure of it.”

  “You didn’t seal my wounds.”

  Killian grins. “I didn’t trust myself. The smell was hard enough to deny. I was initially grateful for the sun pushing me away from you. Until you wouldn’t wake up and I was nearly toast.”

  Rain distorts the view of my vampire. I swipe at my face. “What’s the point of having a vampire boyfriend if he can’t heal my boo-boos?”

  “I’m your boyfriend, am I?”

  I wrap my arm around his neck and pull his lips toward mine. I groan into his mouth when more pain than pleasure hits me.

  Killian pulls back from our kiss, concern warping his brow. “I have to get you out of this hole.”

  I pry at the bandage on my leg after Killian helps me sit upright. “Seal this up and have a drink, why don’t you? I can’t hold this cloud cover forever.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t see any other way out. You have to do a vamp jump, boosted with my storm sprite blood.”

  “I don’t need to drink your blood,” Killian says. “You will fly out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving you here to fry should the clouds part.”

  “It won’t be long until the sun is past its apex and more shadows form. I’ll be okay. I need you to get to Natalia and Dumitru. Trust only them.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good point. Where’s the coven?” I ask.

  Killian doesn’t want to answer. His face is ashen and weary, drawn tight. Someone betrayed us by leaving us for dead. I never trusted Anya, but she needs me to power the amulet, and I’m sure she wants Killian safe. All bets are on Seth as the betrayer.

  “I’m sure Anya will come,” I say for Killian’s benefit. Just because I love him and don’t want him to think the worst of this sister if she did in fact have something to do with our delayed rescue. “They could be fighting Korbinian and can’t get to us.”

  “That’s my sanguine Sasha.” Killian brings my face toward his mouth. We share a delicious kiss as the rain runs rivers down our faces, blending the boundaries between heaven-sent drops and sorrowful tears.

  I pull away with a whimper. A shakiness has descended into my extremities. My trembling hands push Killian toward my leg. “You need to drink from me now.”

  So many lines crease his forehead. “I hate that your blood gives me strength.”

  My palm caresses his cheek. Killian doesn’t flinch away. He doesn’t turn into my touch either.

  “Always working to deny what must be.” I pull the bandage free. Blood oozes up from a seven-inch-long laceration that had nearly clotted.

  Killian bites his lip.

  “Come on. Don’t let me scar.”

  He squeezes his eyes shut.

  “I trust you.”

  Killian braces his hands on both sides of my thigh, sliding them into the tear in my jeans, and pushes the wound together.

  I grunt. “Oww! Hurry!” With my outcry, the fat raindrops become a downpour. Within seconds the ground is a sodden, muddy mess.

  His lips touch my gory thigh. I cry out as my discomfort intensifies.

  Killian’s tongue flicks into my wound.

  I can’t help it; I yelp and kick my leg, trying to shake off the stinging.

  Don’t think about his tongue slipping between your ripped flesh. Don’t think about how thirsty he is for your blood. My skin itches, signifying the healing is working. As skin draws together, my pain subsides. His saliva that seals and restores the skin also contains an analgesic.

  I am ever so thankful.

  Killian’s fingernails dig into my skin as he fights with his control. As he reaches the last inch of my gash, he sucks, drinking my blood into himself.

  I let him have what I hope is enough for him to perform a vamp jump. “Killian.”

  He glances up, with black eyes, before he licks the final wound’s length closed. I think he’s done when, without warning, Killian rips my jeans farther, extending the tear up my thigh. An eerie desire on his face, mixed with possession, doesn’t change as his long tongue scavenges for traces of blood left on my leg. His hands creep dangerously up my thigh beneath the jeans, followed by his lips, which kiss me after every hungry lick. Shivers rise up my neck where my hair clings to it from the chilling rain.

  I can’t tell if his hunger has been overrun by desire. I don’t think there’s a discernible line for vampires.

  Whether it’s hunger or desire doesn’t matter. We have to escape. My wound may be closed, but my energy flags. I lace my fingers through his wet hair, and I yank his head up. His fangs slide past his lips. His eyes lock with mine and round with revulsion.

  He looks away.

  I still find it amusing whenever a crimson blush passes my vampire’s cheeks. I turn his face toward me. “When will you learn that your intrinsic nature doesn’t faze me?” Okay, maybe a little.

  “Sasha, you don’t… you can’t imagine what goes on in my head when I taste your blood.”

  “It’s fine. I understand. I accept you for who you are.”

  Killian nods and swallows. Does he still have my taste in his mouth?

  “If that’s not enough for a jump,” I say, “you can bite me.”

  Killian scooches away. “Absolutely not.” He pushes on the points of his fangs, as if to force them back into his gums. He sighs back against the wall as his vamp out subsides.

  “Fix my head wound?” I push the bandage out of my eyes. I can’t see two feet. Water streams down the wall and pools an inch or so deep. “We’ll drown if I can’t get a handle on this storm.”

  “I don’t have enough control left to drink any more blood… but”—he stands and sloshes over—“one taste was enough.” He scoops me up.

  As he squats, I curl into his hard, bare chest, tucking my face into his neck. He smells like a storm. I can’t help myself; I lick the rain on his skin.

  Startled, Killian teeters forward, tripping in the muck, but he doesn’t drop me as he regains his balance. “Geez, Sasha!”

  “Sorry.”

  “I can’t focus when you’re trying to seduce me.”

  “But you taste so good.”

  Killian tips his face to the sky. “Oh my heavens, I had to fall in love with a storm sprite.”

  I snicker.

  “Let’s try this again.” He bends at the knee. “And no neck licking.”

  Before I can make myself comfortable in his arms, he launches skyward.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Above ground, our circumstances haven’t improved much. We’re stuck in the rain, exhausted and injured. The meadow around the pit spreads out for a quarter mile, but it’s littered with clusters of trees, waist-high grass, and rocks to provide the enemy with cover.

  I don’t like it one bit.

  We have to escape. We have to find protection before I faint and Killian is toasted.

  I focus my strength on holding the clouds. The rain takes its cues from my determination and sheets down around us.

  Killian clutches me to himself when my head rolls back. He took only enough blood to jump out of the hole whe
n he sealed my wound, but the multiple head blows I’ve received are quickly draining me.

  “We have to leave.” Killian adjusts me so my head finds his shoulder.

  I touch his cheek. “We can’t. Not yet.”

  “Neither of us, as spent as we are, will win this war against a gang of demons.”

  I’m not thinking of the war. I only want to win the battle. If Korbinian told the truth about Killian’s death sentence, I can’t let my vampire die. “I don’t care about the stupid demons, but I do know how I can save you.”

  I can’t read Killian’s expression in the storm’s dim light. He moves toward a clump of trees. “You don’t need to save me.”

  “So you heard.” I grip Killian’s neck and snuggle my head against it. “You’ll die, all because of me.”

  “Not because of you.” Killian shifts my weight. “I made the choice to tell you I love you. I wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with me. It’s no one’s fault.”

  “You believe Korbinian,” I say softly. “You believe our child will steal your powers.”

  “The logic makes sense. That’s how Astra stole Korbinian’s. You’re the proof.”

  “We actually haven’t seen any proof.” I grimace as my head pounds. “I have no recollection of these powers, but if what Korbinian says is true, that you will eventually die, I know how to fix it.”

  “You are done with this fight. You’re too weak. Don’t worry about what’ll happen to me. We have time to figure that out later.” He sets me in the damp grass under a towering tree. We aren’t being pounded as much by the rain with the partial cover.

  As he crouches, I grab his face, forcing him to listen. “Killian, it’s simple. We get the amulet. When our child is born, I restore your powers by transferring them from him, or her, back to you. You only have to stay alive for nine months.”

  “That’s assuming I’m not falling apart by then.”

  “You won’t die. Korbinian says it will take years.”

  “Korbinian could be lying about the time frame. Besides, you couldn’t possibly become pregnant after one time.”

  I purse my lips together as my face contorts. “I really don’t know anything about getting pregnant. According to the books I’ve read in human anatomy class, conception usually happens as soon as thirty minutes up to five days after sex, but that’s midmonth of a human’s cycle. Storm sprites don’t have the same cycles, and magic is a factor. And uh…”

  “What?” Killian looks earnest, as if my hesitation is concealing something vital.

  My concern is important but I’m sure not in the way he’s thinking. Plus, I hate to ask, but I’ve been wondering, so I blurt, “Do you have viable sperm?”

  Killian’s back straightens. “Sasha! Of course I do. The blood I drink restores my body every whit, including my sperm.”

  Yeesh, I just took a metaphorical whack at his manhood. “All right, then.” Viable sperm it is. “I guess since conception is possible, we’ll have to just wait to find out.”

  “We should plan for the worst case scenario. If you do conceive, that probably leaves me a few hours, give or take. Then I become a powerless undead human.” Killian frowns. “That doesn’t sound great given the mess we’re in. I can’t protect you if I’m powerless.”

  Killian’s absolutely right. He won’t be able to protect me, but I’m not leaving without the amulet. “You might have less time. How fast are vampire sperm?”

  Killian scoffs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe this. I finally let myself love you, telling myself to hell with the complications, the blood lust, the cross-species compatibility, day versus night—”

  “I love you, Killian. I won’t let you crumble to dust.”

  A spiteful voice speaks from ten feet away. “Now that is a tempting idea.”

  Killian jumps to his feet. Seth stands with approximately fifty vampire cronies in the downpour. He looks vile with his chin-length hair slicked against his prominent cheekbones.

  “Where have you been?” Killian hisses. “We nearly died.”

  “Relax, the troops are here.” Seth glides closer. “Sasha, I thank you for the cloud cover, but we could do without this downpour.”

  Almost as if answering the voice I loathe, my head falls slack against the tree, and with the motion, the rain tapers to a mist. I sense the wind in the atmosphere edging at my clouds. I cannot hold them for long.

  Killian rasps, “Don’t step any closer.”

  “Oh, come now, Killian.” Seth snaps his fingers. One of his lackeys shoves a pint-sized carton into Seth’s waiting hand. “I have exactly what your little storm sprite needs, and at this rate”—he glances heavenward to the shifting clouds—“I’d say it would save us all.”

  Knowing Seth holds a carton of sweet ambrosia, I whimper. Killian squats and turns my face to his so I can see into his eyes. He tries to comfort me with a look, but worry is the only emotion behind his usually mesmerizing irises.

  “Take the carton,” Seth says. “You know I don’t intend to kill her.”

  “You want her as a pet to sample at your pleasure, even at the risk of defying Anya,” Killian snarls. “One taste of Sasha and you’ll lose control. You’ll end up killing her.”

  Seth leans in. “She’s killing us even as we speak.”

  A cloud breaks open, and light webs the trees behind us. Several vamps shriek and slink away. The thought occurs that if I had control, I could torch the vampires on the perimeter. But if the demons show, we’ll need vamp strength.

  Seth waves the ice cream carton. I reach for it, desperate for the relief my ambrosia will give. Killian studies my eyes, as if judging how much strength I have left and whether he should forgo Seth’s charity.

  “Please, Killian,” I say into his ear. “I need it.” My fingers curl around his jaw, and I press my head to his cheek. “The clouds will part. I can’t hold them.”

  Without a word, his jaw rigid, Killian swipes the carton from Seth’s hands. He tips the soupy, partially melted mass toward my lips. I gulp the sweet ambrosia. A vigor courses through my veins. I’m still slurping as I send my magic upward, halting the wind and regrouping the clouds.

  Killian relinquishes the carton into my control. “I’ll keep you safe,” he whispers. I’m nodding and guzzling as Killian slips my head bandage back so he can kiss my forehead. I’m lost in euphoria. Somewhere my brain tells me not to go. Get the amulet. Don’t let Killian take you. My brain also screams that I am in serious peril of becoming a slave to Seth’s whims or a drink for his pleasure. Danger. He’s too dangerous. Get as far away from him as possible.

  Bliss is thoroughly laced through me. The world could be dying, and I wouldn’t care.

  I lower the ice cream carton from my lips and hold my arms up to Killian. Snap back to reason.

  Several vamps blur toward my vampire and seize him under the arms. I startle as Killian throws himself backward and scuffles with them.

  “Don’t touch her, Seth!” Killian is momentarily free, but five more attackers descend and pin him. He arches upward a few times, but the small amount of storm sprite magic in his system is no match for multiple vampires.

  The carton drops from my hands when Seth yanks on my hair. I’m forced to look at him and his beady vamp eyes as he kneels to my level. “So lovely.” He runs his nose along my jawline. “So breathtakingly tantalizing. Allow me the pleasure of tasting your gifts. One sip should not affect the cloud cover I should think.”

  “Don’t do it.” Killian tries to buck, but his effort is pointless. “You won’t be able to stop!”

  Seth bears his fangs. His breath is a sickening sweetness that makes me gag. The points of his teeth graze my neck—

  A clear, commanding voice halts Seth. “The storm sprite is not to be harmed!”

  He draws back, and I exhale. Anya rips Seth to his feet, with her vamp strength. “I won’t pretend I don’t know why you defy me.” She throws him down. Seth scowls up at her, but Anya pays
him no mind as she crouches next to me. “Do you have enough strength to hold this?” Meaning the storm. “Korbinian comes now. We don’t have any other options but to face him here.”

  I nod.

  “Good.”

  Anya stands. “Release my brother. Get into position.” Half of the vampires wink from sight, no doubt concealing themselves in the underbrush. She yanks Killian up and pats him on the chest. “All right, then?”

  Killian narrows his eyes. “Peachy.”

  “Where’s your shirt? You look like hell.”

  Killian nods toward me. “On her.”

  Anya narrows her eyes at me before pointing to three vampires. “You’re her personal protection. If she dies or even faints, you die.”

  They mumble an affirmative and gather around me and the tree I’m under.

  I scoop up the carton and slurp down the remaining ice cream soup. I’m going to need it.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Tactical jeeps roll into the meadow. The demons swagger from the vehicles, heavily armed with assault rifles. Many of them have swords strapped to their backs. An alternate weapon? When fighting vampires, I guess demons have to have all the bases covered. I recall Killian’s ice-sword wound and cringe. Natalia will be busy if they start cutting into vampires. Whatever weapons they choose doesn’t matter; we’re facing an army. These humans are well built—not a scrawny guy in the bunch. Who knows, they could be specially trained.

  My observations raise the question—how does Korbinian, an aging and powerless demon, control them all?

  Korbinian stops within ten feet of Anya. How can he be so bold? I suppose the only thing stopping Anya from slicing him open is the promise she made to save my father.

  “I see you’ve recovered from our last scrape.” Korbinian’s hands rest calmly at his side.

  Last scrape? Anya’s encountered Korbinian before? I have about fifty red flags waving, instead of the few from before.

  Anya isn’t fazed by Korbinian’s comment. “Give me the amulet, Korbinian.” She’s flanked by several of her vampires, all dressed in foreboding black. Killian joins them.