by CJ Ellisson
The muscles beneath her touch remained tight, bunched as if he were ready to spring into action.
“Tsk tsk, vampire. I believe the lady has a mind of her own.”
Her vamp growled low, the vibrations thrumming through her and she stroked his stomach, soothing her savage, blood sucking beast. “Wren?”
“Hmm?” She snuggled closer to him, relishing the first moment of peace she’d had in weeks. Just as soon as she was done feeling better, she’d yell at him for making her sick. Soon. –ish.
“You won’t be seeing the pixie again. Understood?”
That got her attention.
“Pixie?” Fear thrummed in her veins. Pixies were evil. The devil even.
Wren peeked around Griffin and looked at Hyde again. This time, she really saw the odd color of his hair. A little too red and bright. And those eyes…they seemed to glow, even though all of the lights were on in her office. Then, beneath her gaze, his skin lightened and shone, shapes and symbols swirling over the surface. Pale, fluttering wings came into focus behind him.
And, O-M-f-ing-G, his evil teeth were like pointy white razors.
With a whimper, she hid behind Griffin once again. He’d made those other pixies go poof, he could go all poof-er-ino on this asshole, too.
“Wren?”
“Isn’t he supposed to be all small and squishable?” What. The. Fuck.
“Wren, we’ll talk about that later.” His voice had deepened.
Okay then. She nodded, cheek rubbing against his coat. “Totally. Whatever you say. Scout’s honor, even.”
A soft pop fluttered through the room, the sound quickly followed by iridescent dust blowing over them and Wren was quick to brush the stuff off, rubbing her hands over her body. Pixies equaled bad and she didn’t imagine the dust was any better.
Griffin whirled on her then. His large, cool hands wrapped around her upper arms, and she swung her attention to him, staring into his ice-like eyes. “Mine.”
Wren raised an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause I remember waking up alone after our suck-and-fuck fest. In my own bed, even.”
The vampire yanked her close, arms wrapping around her body as his mouth descended. Just as she remembered, those soft lips brushed her mouth, talented tongue darting forward and lapping at her.
Pushover that she was, Wren opened for him, let him in to taste and she sought out his flavors in return. She moaned and slumped against his body, reveling in his closeness.
Griffin cupped the back of her head and held her still as he plundered her mouth.
With his closeness, his touch, arousal grew. Need that had been missing for weeks flared to life and consumed her. Her pussy dampened, an ache building between her thighs and her clit throbbed, desperate for his touch.
She moaned against his lips, groaning when one of his fangs scraped her sensitive flesh and the coppery tang of blood slithered over her tongue. Unfortunately, she didn’t get a bit of it in return. Yeah, it was jacked up that she got hot at the thought of lapping his blood.
“Ahem.”
Wren pushed inexplicably closer, wanting to climb him like Mount Everest and plant her flag to claim him. Her nipples hardened at the thought of Griffin belonging to her. Maybe she’d get lucky and she wouldn’t be able to kick her addiction…
“Ahem.” Lynn paused. “Cough, cough? Wren?”
Eventually, the vampire eased his aggressive hold, pulling his mouth from hers and she followed him, straining to maintain their connection.
Okay. Tory’s addiction idea was spot-fucking-on.
Griffin returned to press a rough kiss to her lips and then put distance between them. “Your friend is speaking to you, little bird.”
She opened a single eye, and then the other. “Huh?”
“Your friend needs you.” A smirk played at his lips and she glared at him.
Poking her head out, she glared at Lynn. “What?”
Her vamp stroked her back, hand sliding higher to knead the tense muscles of her neck. She sighed, eyes drifting closed once again.
Really. This was too freaky for words. But if it meant sexy-times with Griffin and a reprieve from feeling shit-tastic, she’d take it.
“Sorry. What’d you need?”
Her assistant’s eyes widened as she looked from Wren to Griffin and back again. “Uh, just wondering if you were okay. This guy is freakishly scary and where’s Mister Pinxton and…”
“The pix—he won’t be back. We weren’t a good fit.”
Griffin leaned toward her, lips brushing her ear. “We need to leave here, little bird.” The vampire’s erection twitched against her stomach and her thoughts joined him on the let’s-get -horizontal train.
“Anyway. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off. It’s Friday. Enjoy your weekend and I’ll see you Monday.”
“You sure?”
Griffin’s hand retraced its path, continuing down her body and cupping her ass, squeezing her plump flesh and sending a bolt of arousal through her, stoking the fire of need.
“Yeah. Totally.”
The minute they were alone once again, Wren reached up and yanked Griffin down to her, plastering her lips against his in a fierce, bruising kiss. Before he could take control, she released. “We need privacy. You’ve got some serious shit to explain and then you’re going to fuck me. The sequence is negotiable.”
Chapter Four
Griffin drew Wren into his home, closing the door behind them with a soft click as she wandered deeper into his space. He tried to see the place through her eyes, gaze passing over the antiques he’d acquired through his life. History played out before him: paintings, tables and sculptures showing his accumulated centuries.
Wren moved through the living room, fingers trailing over the Georgian side table and on to his decidedly modern couch. He could appreciate the originals, but there was nothing more comfortable than a plush leather sofa.
She dropped her purse onto the seat and then her steps took her to the other side of the open space, body inches from the floor to ceiling windows that revealed the city below. His condo provided him with a safe haven from the Broken that lurked in the night. After every relocation, he employed the local witches to safeguard his home. Nothing Other would breach his space and interrupt their coming confrontation.
And he had a feeling it would involve roaring…on both their sides.
Griffin tossed his keys and wallet onto the table, then hung his jacket in the closet before approaching Wren. His Fire. There and in the flesh. He hadn’t believed Brom’s words at first, arguing that a vampire’s other half was merely a legend, a forgotten memory and simply the Broken’s excuse to pervert humans.
But he stood before the very proof of their existence.
He stopped mere inches from his other half, inhaled her delicate scent and noted that she carried pieces of his essence within her flavors.
A single hand, seeming out of his control, reached up and stroked the gentle slope of her neck. He traced the delicate lines of her veins to her shoulder and on to her wrist before twining his fingers with hers.
“Little bird?”
Wren shifted her focus from the city below, gazing at him with her green eyes. “Your view is beautiful.”
Her voice was soft, delicate and timid. Hints of fear wafted over him and he cringed at her emotions.
“Thank you. Come, sit with me. As you said, I have things to explain.”
Her dread spiked, yet he could tell the exact moment that her body made the decision to follow him. Even now, her cells called to him and he ached to answer.
Griffin nestled onto the comfortable couch, tugging her down until he cuddled her in his lap.
“Griffin, I’m too—”
“Perfect in my arms? Yes, you are. Because I know you weren’t going to say anything bad about yourself, were you?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Jerk.”
He had to admire her spunk. “Your jerk.”
This time she rolled he
r eyes. “I’m not your anything. I’m addicted to you for some freakish reason, but that’s it. Was it the sex? It must have been the sex. Because you’ve got that perfected. How old are you? It must be because you’re ancient. Are you, like, a jillion?”
Griffin didn’t know any other way to shut her up, so he kissed her, laving her lips until she opened to him, and ventured into her waiting mouth. He scraped a fang over her invading tongue and suckled the muscle, drawing droplets of her blood into his mouth. This was perfection, ambrosia, the ultimate sustenance and exactly what he’d been missing during their separation.
Wren wiggled in his lap, ass cradling and teasing his cock as it hardened within his slacks. He ached for her, his body desperate to be sated by the nymph in his arms. He deepened their connection, delving into her more and more, lapping and collecting her flavors with every breath.
His Fire moaned into him and he returned the sound. His fangs fully descended, aching to sink into her flesh and drink her blood, only to replace it with his own and bind her to him for eternity. The little nips he’d delivered, tiny sips, weren’t enough. Not when she hadn’t returned the favor.
But, damn Carac, he had been ordered to give her the choice.
Banking his passion, he eased their kiss, pulled back from their connection until their lips barely touched.
“I’m only three hundred seventy-two, actually.”
Face flushed, lips plump and reddened, his Fire stared at him with unfocused eyes. “Huh? Wha—”
“Three hundred seventy-two. Including pre and post transition years.”
“Oh.” Wren cleared her throat. “What about this addiction thingy?”
Griffin sighed. He should have brought Brom along. Hell, even Simond would have been helpful. Liam and Carac would have scared his little bird, but they could have gotten him through this as well.
“Long ago—”
“In a land far away?” He glared at her and she ducked her head. “Sorry. Continue.”
“Long ago, humans and vampires had…close relationships.”
“Beyond the whole ‘you’re lunch’ thing?”
“Wren…” He’d get through this, damn it. He was pretty sure he had a tie or two that would work as gags.
“Again with the sorry. But you’re taking forever to get to the point.” She wiggled and sat up straight. “Here, I’ll help.” She dropped her voice low, probably in a parody of him. “My name is Griffin and you’re jonesing for me because…” She looked at him expectantly.
Griffin tightened his lips for a moment, shoving his fangs back into his gums. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to spank her or fuck her. Or both.
“I want you to remember that I tried to ease you into this.” He took a deep breath. “You’re craving me because you’re my Fire.”
“Like, Come on baby, light my fire…? That’s very sixties of you. Ohmygawsh! Were you part of The Doors? I love them. I wasn’t around then, but I got into them in high school and they’re pretty awesome. Even if Jim Morrison is dead. Oh! You’re Jim Morrison!”
The gag was looking better and better.
“No, I wasn’t part of The Doors, nor am I Jim Morrison. And a vampire’s Fire is essentially their other half. You warm me in a life of ice. The beating of your heart matches my own. Your every breath enriches me with life.” He twined his fingers with hers. “You are the other half of my soul, Wren.”
He heard her heart rate increase, blood thundering through her veins as fear soaked the air. The grip on his hand grew as she squeezed tighter and tighter until her knuckles were white against her already pale skin.
His little bird forced out a laugh. “Vamps have souls? Huh. Imagine that.” She tugged against his hold. “Well, I’ll just be going now and…”
“Calm, Wren. I know this is hard to believe. If you just keep quiet for a moment and let me explain further. You’ll see that—”
“Quiet? Quiet!” She struggled against him in earnest them, daggers practically shooting from her eyes. “I’ll give you quiet, asshole, blood sucking, undead fucking—”
“We’re not undead.” He gave her a bland expression, trying very hard not to laugh at her insults.
His little bird glared at him. Again.
“Yes, vampires have souls. We are not undead. We’ve simply contracted a virus from another that mutated our DNA and we now require blood to live. That is all.”
“That is all,” she snarked.
“And you are my Fire, my perfect match and the one destined to live at my side for eternity.”
“I hate to tell ya, but eternity is like, another sixty years. If I’m lucky.”
Griffin opened his mouth to finish his explanation, but a bodiless cackle surrounded them, bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout the room. Magical dust swirled in the air and he went into action. He thrust Wren from his lap, stood and grabbed her hand then strode toward the front entrance.
Stupid.
He’d gotten cocky, too dependent on the witch’s protections, and now he’d risked his Fire’s life. The dust whirled in tighter circles, spinning and coalescing into a single form between them and the weapons in his coat.
The magic in the air could only come from one being and he didn’t look forward to challenging a fucking pixie with only Wren at his back.
“Oh, darling, I think sixty years is a stretch. Perhaps five minutes. Ten if you struggle.” The pixie king, Hyde Pinxton, stood before them in all his glory.
Flowing robes in place, crystal crown upon his head and translucent wings at his back, the male produced an imposing figure. And Griffin couldn’t discount the sword clutched in his hand.
Hyde leaned to the side and Griffin felt Wren stiffen against his back. “And I do hope you struggle.”
Rage infused him, worry, fear and anger warring for dominance until the world was awash in blood red. Between one breath and the next, Griffin’s fangs burst from his gums and he hissed at Hyde, aching for the pixie’s blood, but knowing draining the man would mean certain death for him and, ultimately, Wren.
He ripped free of Wren’s hold and stalked the king, his measured steps met by the other man’s. One forward, another back, they performed a deadly dance as they circled each other in his home.
Griffin’s nails transformed to claws, the better to gut him with.
The pixie twirled and spun his sword, a dramatic flair to their coming battle.
He watched the other man, eyes absorbing every shift of muscle.
“I don’t know why you try, vampire. She’s just another human to be slaughtered. She’s not even pretty.” Griffin knew the pixie was goading him. That didn’t stop the rage rising. “Just a plump snack for my court.”
Griffin roared, the idea that his Fire would become food for the disgusting creatures forcing him beyond coherent thought.
One word whispered through his mind…
Kill.
He went on the offensive, racing to the pixie, closing the distance and striking at the male. A clean arc of his hand scraped through cloth and skin, the pixie’s blood flowing in Griffin’s wake.
Hyde swung his glowing sword, trails of dust following the curve as he aimed for Griffin’s head. He ducked and struck again. He’d aimed for the king’s stomach, but a quick shift left him with striking the man’s hip instead.
It didn’t matter. Blood was blood.
The king thrust his blade and Griffin spun, not quite avoiding the sharply honed blade. The sting of the wound was nothing compared to the next sound to reach his ears.
Wren’s riotous, fear-tinged scream rose above the din of his battle and he diverted his attention to his Fire. A towering pixie fought with his little bird, the male grasping at her as she fought with teeth and nails. She struck and dodged, crying out when the unknown man managed to land a blow.
Fury overcame him, the battle with the king forgotten, as he raced to Wren’s side. He didn’t think, didn’t pause to ponder his next move. Griffin wrapped his arms aroun
d the pixie bit deep, sunk his fangs into the attacker’s neck and then wrenched his mouth from the flesh. Taking the pixie’s throat with him.
He spat the offending flesh upon the ground, gagging when some of the tainted blood slithered down his throat.
Now he just needed to dispatch the king and then the Protectors could…
Griffin whirled, placing Wren at his back as he searched for Hyde, only to find the man exactly where he’d been left.
“Ah, I suppose this will work just as well. I wanted you out of commission, Protector. I’d thought the death of your sweet Fire would be the answer, but your death…that will simply please the others even more. Say hello to your Sovereign with your last breath if you would be so kind.”
With that request, the pixie king whirled from the room in the same manner he’d arrived, leaving Griffin and Wren alone.
Standing there, adrenaline leaving his body as the pixie’s poison surged through him, his thoughts centered on his Fire.
“Wren? Are you injured?” He ran his hands over her exposed skin, searching for any wounds.
“Wha… Griffin?”
“There’s not much time.” His heart was already stuttering, muscle losing time as his blood thickened in his veins. Sweat broke out on his brow and his chest heaved with every breath.
Healing his Fire after she’d been bitten by pixies had been simple enough. The poison diluted in her blood stream just enough to make it tolerable for him. But direct ingestion…it was a death sentence.
Tears burned his eyes at the thought of never again seeing Wren’s sweet face, tasting her berry-tinged lips or holding her in his arms.
“Griffin?”
He gripped her arms, using her to keep himself standing. “They know who you are, Wren. It’s not safe.” He swallowed past the bile rising in his throat, fighting to stay conscious. “Get my phone and put your thumb to the screen. It’s going to deny you access, but say Letholdus.” His Fire, the only reason he had to live, and he’d never see her again. But the Protectors would guard her for him. “Repeat it, Wren.”