Bite

by Laurell K. Hamilton, Charlaine Harris, MaryJanice Davidson, Angela Knight, Vickie Taylor

  Oh, so that's how you want to play, he said through the link. We'll just see who loses it first.

  Oops. Tactical mistake.

  Too late. He reared off her and rolled over onto his back. His cock bounced, pointing cheerfully at his chin. I'm challenging you to sixty-nine. Whoever comes first… Well, doesn't exactly lose.

  I was thinking that.

  I know. Extending his arms over his head, he stretched, arching his back. The sight of that big body twisting against the sheets made her mouth water. "What are you waiting for? Mount up." He was thinking that a millennia and a half of kinky experience should allow him to blow her out of the water—so to speak.

  Pride stung, Caroline glowered at him. "We'll just see about that, Sir Fangsalot." She sat up, swung a leg over his chest so her behind was in his face, and settled down to eye his cock.

  Galahad simply grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to his mouth with such breathtaking strength she yelped. The cry became a gasp as he gave her a long, sampling lick.

  She felt the smug satisfaction in his mind. What are you waiting for? Get busy.

  Give me a minute. Caroline contemplated the length of his cock and swallowed. I'm trying to figure out my plan of attack.

  Ha!

  Hey, all you have to do is nibble. I've got to engulf this telephone pole.

  He liked the description enough to reward her with a long, wicked swirl of his tongue. Well, if it's too much for you, I'd be happy to tie you up and find somewhere else to put it.

  Pervert.

  Not so. He sipped deliciously on sensitive flesh. You're just a sheltered English teacher.

  Not anymore. To prove it, she took the thick shaft in one hand, angled it upward and swooped her mouth down over the head. Closing her lips, she began to suck.

  He liked that.

  So did she. In fact, she liked the startling sensation of wet heat so much that she stopped, just holding him in her mouth. That felt pretty good, too.

  He slid one long finger into her sex and closed his lips over her clit. Sucking hard, he sent a sweet firestorm blowing up her spine. His cock jerked in her mouth in reaction to the glorious echo.

  You know, he thought when the fierce sensation faded, I think I'm winning. Where'd I put that rope ?

  I wouldn't bring up the bondage idea to somebody who could chain you to this bed so fast your fangs would spin. Determined, she started suckling his velvety cock head again, trying to ignore the delicious sensations coming through the Truebond.

  He licked. She worked another inch of cock down her throat. He suckled, swirling his tongue around her clit. She caught his balls in her free hand and cupped him gently as she bobbed her head.

  A second finger joined the one in her cunt. He pumped slowly. She drew off him to lave the head of his erection while she stroked the shaft.

  And every single caress from either of them sent delicious waves through both, the pleasure doubling and trebling.

  The climax roared out of nowhere, so blinding and ferocious his bellow blended with her startled cry.

  When the hot wave passed, she lay collapsed over him, dazed, vaguely aware of the taste of him. Oh.

  Wow.

  She twisted her head around and grinned back at him. Did Sir Galahad, badass of the known universe, just say "wow"?

  A faint flush rose over his arrogant cheekbones. That was you.

  It was not! You lying vampire! She rolled off him and grabbed the pillow. Before she could hit him with it, he grabbed her and dragged her beneath him.

  Grinning, he settled down on top of her. "Oh, no, you don't. You lost. I'm claiming my prize."

  "Hey, you came first! Yours triggered mine!"

  "I don't think so." He lowered his head and kissed her slowly, thoroughly. She opened for him with a breathy little moan.

  When he broke the kiss, she threaded her arms around his neck. "You came first."

  "I did not." He reached down and drew her legs apart.

  "Did, too."

  "Actually, the whole point is moot, because I am the big, strong vampire and I'm going to bang you like a drum."

  "Well, I'm the witch and I say…" He thrust his cock deep. "Wow."

  Galahad grinned and rolled his hips. "I aim to please."

  "Ooohhhhh. You don't need much recovery time, do you?"

  "Nope." Another breathtaking thrust.

  The double sensation of her pleasure and his made her arch her head into the pillow. Hunger ripped over her, so sudden and hot the teasing mood died a quick death. She slung both legs over his working butt and grabbed his shoulders, sinking her nails deep.

  Fiercely they ground against one another, the unbearable delight whipping through their bodies with every thrust.

  Goaded, driven, they thrust and thrust and…

  Detonation.

  Hot, sweet waves poured over them, burning and delicious until they were left spent, curled together in a sweating heap.

  Long moments went by before Caroline was capable of speech. "Damn. Is it going to be like that every time?"

  "I hope not. I'll starve." He'd been so intent on taking her, he hadn't wanted to stop long enough to feed.

  She laughed. "You romantic, you."

  I love you.

  The thought, coming out of nowhere, made her blink. She blinked again when she realized he meant it.

  What was more, she loved him, too. Caroline sensed the wave of satisfaction from him at the thought.

  But that's just not possible, she protested. We've only known each other… the Truebond.

  Galahad rolled off her and pulled her onto his chest. I'd have fallen in love with you anyway. He grinned up at her, his smoky blue eyes wicked. "You're loveable."

  "But I'm just a schoolteacher, and you're you. I…" She broke off, realizing she didn't even believe that anymore. If she'd been ordinary…

  "You'd never have survived the Truebond with me. Hell, you wouldn't have come to get me to begin with. You'd have hidden in your little house and pretended you hadn't seen a damn thing." His expression grew grim. "And those bastard vampires would have handed Arthur, Morgana, and Lancelot their heads."

  "Oh," she said faintly. Then her voice strengthened. "I love you, Galahad."

  "I love you, Caroline." He drew her close, his eyes dark and deep as they met hers. "Marry me."

  "Yes. Oh, yes." Hungrily, she kissed him.

  NEITHER of them saw Soren fly past the barrier spell. Twisting his head around, he grinned at Morgana, who sat astride his neck. "I do good work."

  "We do good work." She turned to look through the barrier at the couple entwined in passion, then gave him a wicked smile. "Would you like to do a little more?"

  A hot light appeared in the dragon's eyes. "Oh, yes. But this time, you change form."

  Morgana sighed. "Very well. But you make such a lovely man." She twisted, let herself fall from his back, and transformed, great wings beating.

  He admired her sleek black scales. "You're not so bad yourself. Come here."

  She gave him a toothy dragon smile and soared away with a tempting flick of her tail. "Only if you can catch me."

  "Ah, I do love a woman who plays hard to get…" He flew off after her into the glowing Mageverse night.

  BLOOD LUST

  Vickie Taylor

  Prologue

  THE silver toe cap on the end of the black snakeskin cowboy boot gleamed under the harsh laboratory lights as it rushed toward Daniel Hart's face. He lurched away, but not before the sharp metal point laid open his cheek. His head snapped back. Blood arced above him, then splattered down on his lab coat like crimson rain as he rolled to a stop on the tile floor.

  Bruised and battered, his stomach throwing up into his throat the remnants of the pizza he'd eaten at his desk an hour ago, he shifted to lay flat on his face and planted his palms out beside his shoulders, inhaling the mingled scents of industrial cleaner and blood while he gathered the strength to lever himself up.

  Before
he could move, another kick flipped him backward. He grunted, and another blow spun him in midair, then another.

  His world became a blurry haze of stainless steel tables crashing to the floor, glass beakers shattering, instruments flying overhead in a whirlwind of violence and pain, and yet all he could think about was the work he'd dedicated the last three years of his life to. The delicate tests ruined. The data lost.

  Well, almost all he could think of. There was the other matter of a few broken ribs, lacerations, assorted contusions and possibly some internal bleeding to occupy a small portion of his mind, but it all seemed far away, as if it were happening to someone else.

  He rolled with another vicious kick, came to rest under the whiteboard filled with chemical equations on the far wall and curled his knees up to protect his abdomen. Something had torn inside him that time. His belly convulsed, his insides wringing like a dishrag. His breath rattled in his chest.

  "Why are you doing this?" he asked clumsily, his tongue thick, bloody. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  "What is wrong with me?" The hem of Garth LaGrange's black duster swished over his boots as they scuffed the floor just inches from Daniel's face. He threw his hands in the air and cackled maniacally. "What is wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me. For the first time in centuries, something is very, very right!"

  Centuries? He'd known Garth was a little weird since he'd met him six months ago, but since the man with the penchant for black clothing and late-night business meetings had been the only one who'd stepped up to fund Daniel's research, he'd been willing to overlook a few… eccentricities. Suddenly he wished he'd taken the time to check out his benefactor more carefully. Looked into a few of the more pertinent details of his life.

  Like the fact that he was whacked out of his mind.

  Pain speared through Daniel, a lightning bolt that struck from his navel to his spine. He clenched his fist around the leg of the table near his head and rode the wave. "Why are you doing this?" he asked again. "What do you want?"

  It galled him to lie helpless while Garth stomped through his lab like an angry child knocking over Tinker Toys, but at six foot eight, the guy had a good six inches on him, and who'd have guessed a man built like an underfed flagpole would have the strength of a bull ox? At one hundred and ninety pounds himself, Daniel was no featherweight, yet Garth had tossed him around the room—repeatedly—without breaking a sweat.

  "What do I want?" Garth squatted next to Daniel and grinned wickedly. "I want it all. I want the world at my feet."

  "You've lost it." Shaking his head, Daniel dragged himself sideways, along the wall. "You're nuts, man."

  Garth's face darkened. A scowl scrawled across his lips as he tracked Daniel's progress toward the door. Dropping his arms to his sides, he took a measured step toward Daniel, then another. "You're right. I'm crazy."

  He leaned over until his pasty face hovered at the end of Daniel's nose. His breath brought a new wave of bile up Daniel's throat. "After eighteen months of listening to your constant stream of mind-numbing, medico-scientific mumbo jumbo, I'M A RAVING FUCKING LUNATIC!"

  Daniel couldn't disagree with that, though he took issue with the cause. He tightened his arms over his ribs, expecting another blow, but Garth spun away with a flourish of his long coat.

  "Oh Daniel, you're so smart," he mocked the praise he'd showered over Daniel so freely in the past. "Oh Daniel, you're so dedicated."

  Halfway across the lab, he turned. "I cozied up to you. I coddled you. When what I really wanted to do was—"

  His face twisted in rage, he made a circle in the air with his hands, as if he were choking an invisible neck, and for the first time, Daniel noticed how long the man's thumbnails were. Thick and yellow, they curved out two inches beyond the ends of his digits, where they sharpened to pinpoints.

  Gross, but Daniel didn't have time to contemplate Garth's personal hygiene, because he finally figured out what he should have known all along. Garth had never believed in his research. Never been as excited as Daniel about the potential to help people, to further the greater good.

  The man had just been using him all along. "You want my blood."

  Garth teased the rim of his lips with his tongue. "You have no idea how badly."

  "You want the formula."

  "I want what it can give me. Power. Control. A certain…" He flicked his chin up jauntily. His pocked cheeks looked more hollow than ever, his complexion more sallow, yet there was a dull gleam in his sunken eyes that made Daniel's stomach pitch. "A certain notoriety with women."

  "It's not Viagra, man. It's blood. Synthetic blood."

  "It's freedom. It's lifer."

  "You can't have it."

  "I already do." He pulled a CD case out of the pocket of his coat, opened it carefully. Reverently. "By the way, this is now the only copy. I reformatted the hard drive on your PC and destroyed all the data backups."

  Daniel's heart kicked on its first spurt of true panic. Getting his ass kicked by a freak with weird fingernails was one thing. Losing the work he'd dedicated his life to, work with the potential to save thousands of lives, was a whole other level of torture.

  He could re-create the formula for the first non-organic human blood substitute, but it would take time. Reproducing the tests and documentation the drug manufacturers would insist on seeing before they committed their resources to the project would take even longer. Months and money he didn't have.

  He found the strength to push himself to a sitting position. "You need me. And my medico-scientific mumbo jumbo. You'll never get a major pharmaceutical company's backing without me. You won't get in the front door."

  "I have no intention of trying to get in the front, or any other, door."

  "Even you don't have enough money to push a product like this to market yourself. It would cost you millions just to get it past the FDA. Tens of millions."

  "The market I'm targeting doesn't require FDA approval."

  "What market is that, the black market? Africa? Latin America? Where the people are too poor to afford the luxury of asking where their medicines come from, or in too much pain to care?"

  Garth cackled again. "Such a humanitarian. But you overestimate my ambition. I was actually thinking of a consumer group much closer to home, and money is not an issue with them."

  Nothing Garth said made sense to Daniel, but then his brains had been pretty well scrambled this evening. All he knew was that the man who had claimed to support his work was trying to steal it, and that the same man was more concerned about his own profit than helping humanity with a medical breakthrough.

  Synthetic blood would save thousands of lives. Unlike the products most of the pharmaceutical companies had in development now, Daniel's brainchild didn't require any biological components at all. It could be mass produced on demand from simple chemicals, had an unlimited shelf life and none of the threat of blood-born pathogens such as hepatitis and HIV that accompanied the real thing. It had to reach the market—the legal market.

  Clutching a set of metal shelves, Daniel dragged himself to his feet. "Bastard. You can't do this. I won't let you do it."

  Garth smiled the way Daniel imagined a hunter would smile at Bambi. Right before he shot him. "Oh, do try to stop me. Please."

  Daniel put his head down and charged, only to find himself flung back by an unseen hand. His back slammed into the wall behind him with enough force to knock a man-sized hole in the Sheetrock before he slid to the floor.

  How had he done that? Garth hadn't touched him.

  Shaking his head to clear it, Daniel braced his back against the drywall and pushed himself to his feet for another run, only to find himself knocked flat on his face.

  Except there wasn't anyone behind him to knock him on his face. There wasn't anyone else in the room at all. Except Garth.

  Okay, now this was getting spooky.

  He raised his head to squint at his benefactor-cum-nemesis through burning, swollen eyes.


  "You're finished. You have nothing left," Garth spat down at him. "I've got the formula. I've got the lab. I've got your house."

  A groan tore its way out of Daniel's throat. The note he'd signed for the research funding. The collateral he'd put up, including the house that had been in his family for over a hundred years…

  "I've got your car. That pitiful little savings account you call your nest egg."

  Garth stretched his hand out toward the door to the lab, and what little breath Daniel had been able to draw into his aching chest caught in his throat.

  Another black-clad figure sashayed into the room. Her leather pants squeaked as she rolled her hips. Her D-cup breasts spilled out of her leather lace-up bustier.

  "Sue Ellen?" Daniel rolled to his knees, swayed sickly. Sue Ellen walked by as if she hadn't seen him. What was wrong with her? Why was she dressed like that?

  Garth smiled as she stepped into his waiting arms and rubbed herself against him like a feline. "I've even got your girl."

  "Sue Ellen, get away from him!"

  But she seemed to have no inclination to run. Instead, she flicked out a long thumbnail, scratching Garth's neck and scooping up a drop of blood. Then she brought the blood to her lips and licked it off with a dreamy look of enjoyment on her face.

  God, what had he done to her? What sort of spell had he put her under?

  Daniel watched, frozen in horror as Garth placed his hands around her neck, caressed the line of her jaw, then squeezed. Hard.

  She should have struggled. He had to be hurting her, but she didn't seem to care. She seemed to be enjoying the pain. Eyes glazed over with anticipation, she let her head fall back as if he were caressing her like a lover, not choking her.

  Daniel staggered to his feet. "What are you doing?"

  Garth drew his thumbs over the column of her throat, licked his lips, and then dug his pointed nails into her flesh.

  Daniel charged again, growling. Again the unseen hand stopped him, this time snatching him from behind and lifting him like a dog caught by the scruff of the neck. It pulled him up until he had to stretch to touch his toes to the floor, then beyond.