Blood Unleashed (Blood Stone)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Nial glanced at her. “You were the one that freed Rick.”

  She gave a graceful nod. “Only the very old remember the litany anymore, and most of them would prefer to forget it. It is old – older than even we remember and no one speaks Arkkadian anymore, so the words must be remembered as sounds to be repeated. It takes strength to dominate another, to absorb their will via the litany. It is a strength few have anymore. Only the old have it now.”

  Marcus looked at Rick. “How old are you?” he demanded.

  Nial frowned. “That’s not something you’re supposed to ask,” he murmured.

  “Fuck that,” Marcus said hotly. “He just...what was it? He absorbed her will. Why didn’t she do it?” and he looked at Kurshid.

  “Rick wanted to do it, because he loves this woman,” Kurshid replied calmly. “Love provides an extra strength I do not have. It is a shield.” She smiled at Marcus. “Do not worry. He did not take your woman’s will. The litany is used to cast out the meden. Only if he completed the ritual and made her drink his blood, would she become his zelpha.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Marcus muttered.

  Ilaria sighed and turned onto her side.

  “She’s coming out of it, whatever it was,” Kate murmured.

  Nial got to his feet. “Let’s break for an hour. No one leaves the house. We’re on siege status until I say otherwise. Everyone be back here at nine-thirty. Garrett, Bastian, come with me.”

  The clumps of people broke up and drifted away, leaving Marcus sitting on the floor, with Ilaria next to him, and Rick, sprawled by her head.

  Ilaria’s hand slipped into his. He looked down at her. She smiled at him. “Hello,” she said gravely.

  Marcus let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Rick lifted his head, blew out his breath and closed his eyes.

  Ilaria sat up. “I feel wonderful,” she declared.

  Marcus pushed the loose sleeve of her robe up her arm. “Look,” he told her.

  She lifted her arm so she could see the flesh he had revealed. The brand that had been there was now just a scar, white, flat and faded.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ilaria felt like she was jumping out of her skin with the clean, clear energy coursing through her. She nearly skipped around Marcus and Rick as they got to their feet.

  The two men looked at each other. It was a silent communication.

  “There’s a room upstairs that I used for my shower,” Marcus said.

  Rick nodded.

  Marcus picked up her hand. His was warm and big and so very dear. Ilaria looked at Rick, guilt touching her, but he was already walking away. Marcus followed him, drawing her up the curving stairs once more. At the top, the landing circled right around the open space, and corridors led off from it.

  “That one,” Marcus said, nodding toward the closest one. “The door on the right.”

  The door on the right was actually a double door. It was the bedroom suite Ilaria had used for her own shower. Rick opened the doors and strode into the room. As he walked, he tugged his sweater up the length of his torso and pulled it over his head. “I’m taking a shower,” he declared and stepped into the ensuite and shut the door.

  Marcus drew Ilaria over to bed, and she dragged her gaze away from the bathroom door. He sat on the bed and patted the covers. “Do you want to talk about what happened, Ilaria?”

  She shivered.

  “You remember it all, don’t you?” Marcus asked. “Rick didn’t supress your memories the way Kurshid did his?”

  “I remember,” she said, her voice low. An image popped into her mind without her trying to recall it, of being strapped against ladder by Heru’s servants, while he cut her open with his nails. He cut and muttered his ugly language, while his translator spoke of her doom.

  “You are a prize. Perfection itself. You are the perfectly shaped and engineered tool. Your skills are above the worth of any normal woman. But like a woman, you are flawed and your flaw makes your worthless. You let feelings guide your decisions. These feelings you have for humans and pathetic human-loving vampires have ruined your value.”

  She had fought off the blood fever as long as she could, knowing that any writhing or contortions would set off the bomb.

  “He told me you were dead,” she whispered. “He said you both died in the explosion at the gun range. He showed me bodies.”

  “You didn’t know we were coming to the apartment for you?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know how I was going to get out of it. Then the blood fever made me stop thinking. The only idea I could hold onto was the need to be still.”

  “We saw your body, too. What we thought was your body. Heru must have used some of the League humans.” Marcus shook his head. “He used them. He killed them, just to make us think you were dead.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out her bronze band. “He left this behind, too.”

  Ilaria looked at it. “That is how he convinced you,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Marcus held the band out to her, but she pushed her hand back toward him. “You take it. I don’t need it anymore.”

  Marcus laid it on the bed between them, his fingers stroking the edges. “And now what, Ilaria?”

  She pulled her gown more closely around her. “I don’t understand.” But she did. She had been grappling with this since she had realized that all of them had survived the bomb.

  “What he means to ask,” Rick said from the ensuite doorway, “is ‘what do you want’?” He stepped around the end of the bed and Ilaria caught her breath, for he was naked. His skin was slightly damp, still. He pulled himself onto the bed, sitting just behind Marcus and a little to one side and looked at her. “You’re free now, Ilaria. You’re free to choose your own name and your own destiny.”

  How could she choose? Pain tore at her.

  “Before you choose,” Marcus told her, “you should know that we both love you.”

  She gripped her hands together. “You want me to choose between you.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Choosing neither of you would be less painful.”

  “There is a third option,” Marcus said.

  Ilaria grew still. Hope made her heart thud. Just once. She looked from Rick to Marcus and back to Rick.

  “Yes,” Rick said, confirming her guess. “Both of us, Ilaria.”

  “Both of you...together,” she said slowly.

  Rick smoothed the cover with one hand. “Remember how I said I do not ever give my trust?”

  She nodded. At the time, she had been sure of her strategies and the skills she had used to bring dozens of men and women into submission, where they would do anything she asked of them. But Rick had not submitted. She had.

  “I trust Marcus,” Rick said. “I trust him with my life.”

  Her heart lurched. Even Marcus turned to look at him. He wore a small smile. “Took you long enough, Ricky.”

  Rick rolled his eyes. “Must you use that stupid dimunitive? It’s degrading.”

  Ilaria stared at them. Astonishment was warring with a swiftly building delight.

  Rick tugged at the bottom of Marcus’ teeshirt. “You’re wearing far too many clothes,” he decided. He glanced at her. “Help me,” he suggested.

  She hesitated and realized she was waiting for instructions. For guidance that would never come again. It was up to her to decide. All this time she had been sitting on the bed, wondering what choice would be the best one. Which would win approval? But the only person who had to approve was her.

  She brought her hand to her face. Abruptly the world shifted, and she saw ahead of her an entire life filled with such decisions. How would she ever know which was the right one to make?

  Rick reached over and picked up her hand, plucking it away from her face. “Relax,” he told her. “Remember I said it would be overwhelming? But all you have to do is make one decision at a time. If you want, Marcus and I will always be there to help guide you.”

  He
r breath was coming faster. “Always?”

  “As long as I’m breathing,” Marcus told her. “Ricky, there, will probably outlast all of us.”

  “So, what do you want, Ilaria?” Rick asked her once more. “What do you want for right now?”

  “I think...” Heat was building in her belly, curling and roiling. Making her heart stutter and hurry along. “I think I want you. Both of you.” She held up her hand as they both began to smile. “However, I think you must kiss me first.”

  “Sold,” Marcus growled and pulled her closer to him. He slid his hand under her hair. “I love you,” he murmured and kissed her. His lips were hot and tasted uniquely like Marcus. She would know it was him kissing her even if she had been led to him blind-folded. His tongue swept into her mouth, leaving her lips tingling.

  Ilaria let her heart lose to beat on its own and it immediately began to throb, sending the warming blood through her body. Her pussy pulsed and her nipples grew hard.

  She realized that Rick was behind her when her gown loosened and slid from her shoulders. Marcus was still kissing her, but she gasped into his mouth as Rick’s hand slid up from her waist to cup her breasts. His fingers closed over the nipples and squeezed and stroked them.

  She arched back, her hips thrusting forward, and then she was being drawn back, back, further back to lie on the bed. Her gown was discarded. Rick leaned over her. His cock was erect and throbbing, brushing against her hip. “My turn,” he declared and kissed her.

  Rick’s kisses were different. They were sensual, leaving her feeling drugged and in a torpor. Marcus’ were electrifying.

  Then Rick gasped, his lips against her mouth. He looked up.

  Marcus was behind him, his hand reaching over Rick’s lean hip. He had Rick’s cock in his hand and was stroking it.

  Ilaria felt like she was a burning sheet of flames. Hot, sweet, aching need wooshed through her as she watched Marcus’ hand slowly stroke up and down Rick’s shaft, and Rick’s tortured breathing and the ripple of his jaw as he reacted. His eyes were almost completely shut.

  “Madre maria,” she breathed and caught at her chest as her heart slammed against it.

  She had watched men together before. She had seen men and woman, men and men, and women together. There was not a single sexual act she had not participated in, or delivered upon another, always at the behest of her meden. The images from those times stirred in her memory but did not rise up to linger, for watching Rick and Marcus together was more intoxicating than all of those moments put together.

  She moaned. She most desparately needed to be fucked. She ached with it and squirmed on the bed, looking for relief.

  Rick caught at Marcus’ shoulder. “Enough, or I’ll be useless for both of you. Ilaria needs attention.”

  Marcus moved around Rick, who caught his hand around Marcus’ neck and brought him close. They kissed.

  Ilaria drew in a shaking breath. Nothing had prepared her for this level of excitement. She could feel her climax gathering, and no one had laid a hand on her yet.

  Rick let Marcus go, and turned back to her. He kissed her and she could taste Marcus on his lips. She moaned into his mouth, then gasped as Marcus spread her thighs wide. That was all the warning she received. His mouth closed over her mons, and his tongue thrust against her clit, making her clutch at the cover, her breath halting.

  Rick smiled. “He is good with his mouth,” he murmured.

  It brought wickedly erotic images to her mind, of Rick and Marcus together. Marcus’ lips around Rick’s cock, while Rick’s hips flexed in pleasure...

  “I cannot stand this!” she cried. “Please, please, fuck me. Quickly.”

  In answer, Rick bent his head over her and took her nipple into his mouth. At the same time, Marcus slid two or three or perhaps even more of his fingers into her pussy, deep inside, like the thrust of a cock.

  His tongue was still prodding and stroking her clit and her pleasure leapt upwards, making her breath catch and hitch, catch...and then she came.

  The power of the climax squeezed through her, making her arch and grip the bedcover in her hands. It ebbed and pulsed through her for what seemed like minutes on end.

  Rick’s hand – it was his for the fingers were long and cool – slid under her hips as they stayed lifted. Then his cock nudged her pussy. Marcus had withdrawn.

  Rick slammed into her with the power and drive that she longed for. He slid home to the hilt and Ilaria let her body fall back onto the bed, moaning at the deep pleasure of having him inside her.

  Then he rolled over, bringing her with him and she gasped as she found herself lying on his chest, his cock still buried in her. She looked down at him as she propped herself on her knees. “Perfect,” she murmured.

  “It’s about to get better,” he assured her.

  Marcus slid his fingers up from her bent knees, up behind her thighs, to her ass. He squeezed her cheeks. “This has to be one of the best views in the world,” he said. His voice was thick with arousal. His fingers stroked the entrance to her pussy, where Rick’s cock was stretching it open. Her pussy clamped in reaction, making Rick hiss in delight.

  Marcus slid his fingers up to her ass and she realized he was spreading her natural lubricant. There was plenty of it. Each movement Rick made, the little thrusts and shifts while he waited for Marcus, made slick sounds.

  Marcus pressed his fingers inside her and Ilaria thrust her hips back, encouraging him. She was eager for him to take her. Trembling with it.

  Rick gripped her hips. “Be still for a moment,” he murmured.

  Marcus’ thick cock pushed up against her ass, seeking entry. She made herself relax, letting him in. He pushed in until the muscle stopped him and Ilaria breathed slowly, willing herself to let go. It was difficult, because she was so aroused every muscle wanted to tense up in reaction.

  He thrust deeper. “So tight,” he murmured, as his fist pressed against the covers by Rick’s shoulder, holding him up.

  Ilaria held her breath as they began to thrust together, savouring the pleasure. It wouldn’t last long. Her climax was leaping and roaring, building from the base of her belly. She had never felt so full. So...claimed. There was nothing she could do to stop her climax from bursting upon her and showering her with fizzy, body tautening pleasure.

  She threw her head back and screamed.

  As the last of the massive climax fizzed and faded, she felt Marcus groan, his cock jerking in her. His hot seed spilled onto her flesh, and Rick gripped her hair, his hips thrusting, as he came in two powerful thrusts.

  * * * * *

  Ilaria lay between them, her body satiated and her mind drifting. She never needed to worry again about someone invading her mind, stealing her feelings and changing the course of her future.

  Her back was against Marcus’ chest, while her thigh was resting over Rick’s. She was stroking Rick’s chest while Marcus toyed with her breast. His fingers would sweep across the nipple, teasing it with light, fluttering touches. Her thigh was pressed up against Rick’s testicles and she could feel them throbbing. Marcus’ cock was semi-hard against her ass. He was not finished yet, either.

  “I was born in 812, in England, when the Saxons ruled the land,” Rick said, watching her hair twirl and twist through his fingers.

  “You are Saxon?” Ilaria asked.

  “I was. I don’t think of myself that way anymore. I am just me.” He let her hair drop. “I was turned by a vampire that was passing through the village. She took a liking to me, and wanted me for her plaything, so she hunted and turned me. My father was the earl of the village and I would have inherited his title, but it was not to be.”

  He paused and she could see that his gaze was inward, searching through memories. “I learned to move about the country, staying only a little time at each village or town, so people would not get to know me or draw any suspicions about my real identity as a vampire. My maker taught me well. Then, a little less than two hundred years later, the No
rmans swept through England, claiming it their own. What had been my father’s title and his lands were all claimed by the Normans. I watched England die almost overnight and become a feudal fiefdom, while those Saxons who survived became serfs....servants of their new overlords.”

  He turned his mouth down. “Because of my coloring, I found it easy to pose as a Norman and so life went on. I travelled. I bought castles and lands. I hired knights. When the pope called for all hands to save the blessed city, I joined the first crusade to Jerusalem.”

  “Jesus wept,” Marcus breathed. “You just skipped through five hundred years of history. Are you as old as Nial? Everyone keeps deferring to him like he’s older than God.”

  Rick gave him a small smile. “I don’t know. He has not told me and it is not something you can simply ask. I do not think I am older and I most certainly defer to him, because for me, my life as I knew it was only seven hundred years long despite being born in the ninth century. When I reached Jerusalem, you see, I was captured by the Fatamids. Then they tried to execute me and found I could not die. I was taken back to their castle in what is now Iran, and I became an Assassin.”

  “Pæga the Assassin,” Marcus murmured. “Winter called you that once. I didn’t realize it was a literal title.”

  “They taught him everything they knew about murder and warfare,” Ilaria said, for she knew this part. “He became their most prized member, for he could take on the impossible assignments, the ones where a normal assassin would not survive.”

  “What happened?” Marcus asked. “How did you become inscribed?”

  Rick drew in a deep breath. “I remember it now, although for a long time, I have not remembered anything from the day I was given the mission to kill a man in Acre. I found the man, but when I tried to kill him, I found he was vampire, like me. He was old...much older than I was. He knew the litany and the ritual for enslavement and he forced me to drink his blood.” Rick turned his head into Ilaria’s shoulder. “The things I did at his bidding....!”

  She stroked his hair, for she could feel him trembling. “Kurshid broke the inscription,” she said. “Five hundred years later,” she added, for he had told her he had been free of the inscription for just over two hundred years. Five hundred years of slavery! She had lived through not even a century of slavery and it had driven her nearly mad. She kissed him. “You survived,” she assured him. “And I am so very glad you did.”