by Marie Hall
He chuckled. “You punched him?”
“Yes. Rather stupid of me to punch a drunk, but I was drunk myself. The man went off, called me all sorts of stupid, flipped over a chair. His breath reeked of liquor.”
“And the girl?”
She sighed. “Still in danger. But now I had the bartender threatening to throw me and the father out, and no one was listening. So I ran to the back. All the while the father was screaming at me that I was crazy, that he had no children. A few of the patrons must have followed, because someone filmed the entire episode on their phone. I found the girl, who was already set upon by attackers. I went nuts, screaming and raving like a lunatic. I was piss drunk and remember little of what I said until I saw it on the news that night. ‘Drunk woman recues child from gang rape,’ or some such crap. I knew the moment I saw my face on that screen I was in trouble.”
He frowned. “In a city the size of San Francisco, how did the vampires learn you were a seer?”
“Because of what I was screaming, I suppose.” She shrugged. “It’s all still very fuzzy. I didn’t even finish watching the show. The cops were looking for me, HPA was ringing constantly trying to figure out what in the hell I’d done, and I knew it was only a matter of time before all the dots were connected. I’d had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that night, but I had only forty dollars to my name. I’d spent the rest of what I’d had on that ferry. I was stuck and could no longer stay at the bed-and-breakfast. So I snuck into a neighbor’s home in the middle of the night, intending to only get a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. I knew if I made it to sunrise I’d make it out of there. But obviously, the vampires found me. And that is my story.”
Leaning back so that he could look her in the face again, he brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes, rubbing her cheek with his knuckles. “That was a very stupid thing to do,” he gently chided, and she winced.
“I know. And yet”—she searched his gaze to see if maybe somewhere deep down he understood why she hadn’t had a choice—“I’d do it again. I could not imagine a worse fate for a child. I’d maybe handle it differently. I wish I could read my own future. That would make my life so much easier.” She laughed, but it lacked humor. Scratching the back of her head, she studied him. “So now you know my secrets. I’ve got to know, why did you let George bite me? Why couldn’t I have remained a vampire? These cravings I get”—she swallowed hard—“they drive me close to mad.”
The pads of his fingers brushed along the scars lining her cheeks. “When I found you, you were less than a second from death. Lise came to me.”
“The Ancient One?” What would Lise want with her?
“Yes. I didn’t understand it then, but having been with you these past few days I understand why she ordered George to bite you. What do you know of vampires?”
She chuckled. “Firsthand knowledge or what I learned postdeath?”
His lips quirked. “Both.”
“That they’re sexually depraved monsters who obsess about blood.” She wiggled her body into his, because just talking about it made her breasts tingle, her thighs tremble, and her center feel heavy and wet. She was so ready it was almost embarrassing.
Snorting, Frenzy said, “All that is true. It is also true that when they bite you and turn you, you become slave to their whims and fancy. They own you.”
She frowned. It was true. Vampires were sired creatures who formed strong, dysfunctional family units. “I haven’t felt—”
Slowly he nodded, as if waiting for her to fit the pieces together, and it was stupid that she hadn’t already. She knew much more than the average human about the others; in hindsight it was obvious. “Shifters do not sire. His bite interfered with that.”
“Contrary to popular belief vampires rarely turn a mortal, and when they do it’s because they desire something. In your case it was your abilities. They would never have killed you—mutilated you, yes, but not true death—because they wanted what you had and I think were smart enough to realize that without you to interpret the visions, the eyes were useless. Had George not bitten you, you would have been slave to your sire’s whims.”
Mila shook her head.
“Lise didn’t stick around long enough to explain herself to me, but I theorize that George’s bite killed off the bits of the vampire’s poison that would have made you loyal to them. You are your own person.”
“But George cannot regenerate. I’ve seen him. He looks worse than a zombie.” She touched the scars on her cheeks, wondering if maybe that was why these ghastly things still remained.
He chuckled, stepping into her. “I shoved you up against a tree when I pounded into you earlier. Shifters can regenerate. The reason why George can’t is because he lacks pack magic. A lone wolf, while still strong, is also weak in the sense that he doesn’t gain the added strength and healing abilities a packed shifter would. But his bite is still a true shifter bite. You seem to have gotten the best genes of both. Stronger than either one of them.”
“But my scars.” She cupped them in her hands.
He gently pushed them away. “I saw you. You were battered and bruised, with bites all over your body. It was a horrific sight.”
Shuddering, she said, “Sure seems like they planned to kill me.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’d incited them to a fury. They were angry. If they’d wanted to kill you, they would never have toyed with you as they did. They were trying to teach you a lesson.” He feathered his fingers along the tops of her eyes. “You healed. The scars, they came from a spelled blade. There is no regeneration from something like that, not unless you go to the witch who created the spell in the first place and ask them to reverse it.”
The odds of ever finding the witch who’d spelled the blade seemed slim to none. At least Frenzy didn’t seem fazed by her deformity.
“Do we really have to go to faerie, Frenzy?” she asked softly, afraid to say it too loud, afraid of who was out there, of what they might hear.
“I wish I could think of another way. The thought of going to faerie doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s the only lead I’ve found. If not there, where do you think?”
She sighed. “Gods, I don’t know. I wish I did.”
He hugged her tight, rubbing her shoulder blades in his strong warm hands. “Let us sleep on it tonight, see if we can come up with something else in the morning.”
“Yeah.” But in her heart she knew there wasn’t anything else. If there had been, they would have thought of it already. Going to faerie was suicide. But so was staying put in any one place for too long. She was screwed either way.
Chapter 11
They walked toward the bed, Frenzy leading her. Today had been long and strange and he wasn’t ready to call it a night, doubted she was either, but they needed to rest, to at least try and sort out what to do tomorrow.
“I’m not tired,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “My teeth are hurting.” She grimaced and rubbed at her gums with her fingertips.
Sitting her down, he walked back to the kitchen sink and grabbed a bowl from one of the pantry shelves. Filling it quickly with water, he poured some salt in it and stirred it with a wooden spoon. “It’s normal. Vampires like to bite.”
She licked her canines. “But I don’t even have fangs.”
Moving her hands, he dipped his finger in the water and then lifted it to her mouth. She wrinkled her nose, jerking her head away.
“Please tell me you’re not trying to stick your finger in my mouth.”
Realizing that was what he’d just been about to do, he sat the bowl down on her lap and shook his head. “A moment of insanity. Dip your finger in the water and rub it along the gums that hurt. It’ll help ease some of the throbbing.”
Sniffing the water, her brows screwed into a question mark. “It’s only salt water.”
Sitting down on the other end of the bed, he rubbed his brow. “Salt has many curative properties, especially for an immortal.
Just try it.”
Looking unsure, she did as he instructed and dipped her finger in then rubbed, sighing a moment later as the tension drained from her shoulder blades.
“My gods, that’s amazing.”
Frenzy got up to walk toward the kitchen table, pulling out one of the chairs.
“What are you doing?” she asked, staring at him with those haunting amber eyes he’d come to love and hate. Hate because they did not belong to Adrianna, love…because they did not belong to Adrianna.
He was such a walking contradiction.
“I’m going to take a nap, and you should too.”
Her brows dipped as she set the bowl on the floor. “I thought vampires slept during the day, grim reapers not at all.”
Growling under his breath, he rolled his eyes. “True enough, but I’ve developed a fondness for it. And you’re not just a vampire, you’re a shifter too, so you can and should try to rest.”
Scooting back on the bed until her back pressed against the wall, she crossed her arms, appearing almost delicate in the candlelight. “Do you dream?” she asked, clearly intending to ignore his last statement.
He shrugged, taking a seat as he rubbed his hand back and forth along the wood grain. “Not really, no. I just quiet my mind.”
“Sounds sort of like dreaming.”
“I guess.” He brushed some imaginary crumbs off the table.
Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Finally she broke it by saying, “Frenzy?”
Turning his gaze aside from the window, he nodded. “Hmm?”
“You don’t have to sleep at the table.” She patted the empty side of the bed.
Things were suddenly so different between them. Before today he would have sworn she hated him, and he definitely hadn’t felt much favor toward her.
“Are you sure?”
Biting her lower lip, she nodded. The moment he sat next to her, things got awkward again. She covered her bottom foot with her top one and scooted a little off to the side.
“You know we’ve already slept together.” He lifted a brow at her.
Blowing out a raspberry, she chuckled. “Yeah, we have.” Immediately the tension in her body fled. Turning to look at him, she nodded. “Look, I’m sorry for acting an arse with you from the get-go. It’s hard for me to let others in, to let my guard down. It doesn’t come easily. I’m trying, though.”
Feeling an odd need to reassure her, he draped his arm across her shoulder, dragging her into him. Again a spark, like a bolt of electricity, traveled through him at the point of contact. He’d felt it earlier, in the glen, when they’d torn at each other to get closer.
Being with her, it felt electric, dangerous. Her breathing inched up a notch as she turned to stare at him.
“Your eyes are such a perfect shade of liquid amber.” His voice was rough and unsure. He wasn’t sure why he’d said it, but looking at her, staring into eyes that’d haunted his dreams for years…it felt right.
And maybe it was because of those eyes that he was letting his own guard down. Letting this woman wiggle her way in where none had before.
Breasts rising and falling with her heavy breaths, she swallowed.
“I dreamt about you for years,” she whispered, then grabbed his hand and brought it up to cup her cheek. “I can’t see my future. Never have, and yet I’ve always seen the mysterious man in red. Who are you, Frenzy? What are you going to do to me?”
The point where his body touched hers flared to life. “I’m going to save you.”
Her look was incredulous, but she didn’t speak on it. What more was there to say? He knew the odds were slim, so did she, but for one night at least, they could pretend.
Words were pointless and sleep elusive. Gripping the back of her neck, he watched her, waiting for a flicker of disapproval as he dragged her lips to within inches of his own. Their shared breaths mingled and he inhaled greedily, taking her unique scent of fresh earth and frosty winds deep into his lungs.
“I’ve never smelled anything quite like you,” he murmured.
Her lips twitched. “Good or bad?”
“Different.” Not giving either one of them a chance to think about anything else, he took her lips.
She still tasted of wine, sweet and spicy, delicious. Running his tongue along her lower lip, teasing her to open up for him, he smirked when she trembled, latching her daggerlike nails into his shoulders.
It’d never been so raw or wild with Adrianna. She’d been human, unable to handle anything other than soft, tender strokes. Mila crawled onto his lap, still devouring his mouth with her own as her hands frantically tore at his T-shirt. It took some skillful maneuvering on his part to lift his arms and still remain kissing her. She laughed, a deep and throaty burr of sound that brushed his skin with pinpricks of excitement.
They pulled apart only long enough to lift their shirts over their heads. Pushing hair out of her eyes, she grabbed on to his zipper next and quickly pulled it down. The sound vibrated like thunder through the room, made his pulse stir and quicken.
Her hands were on his face, dragging him back to her as she pressed her full, naked breasts into his chest. He hissed when her nipples rubbed against his, making him bow with the pleasure. Bending her over, he held on to her back as he tenderly laid her down on the bed.
They were both panting for breath as they stared deep into each other’s eyes.
“I can’t get enough,” she moaned in reluctant admission. “I tasted you out there; it should be enough. It should.”
“And yet it’s not,” he finished her sentence, shushing her with a growl as he once again reclaimed her lips, taking her tongue into his mouth, sucking gently on it over and over.
The frantic beat of her pulse mixed with the way her nails kept gouging into him, it made him mad with desire. Made his vision almost hazy, because all he could see, all he wanted, was her.
“Take the shorts off,” he ordered, undoing her zipper.
Grabbing on to the tops of her jean shorts, she shimmied her way out of them, pulling them down her long, lean legs. The satiny feel of naked thigh rubbing against his waist pulled a groan from his lips.
“You’re so bonny,” he breathed, using her Irish word for “beauty.”
Her eyes widened at that term of endearment and then she snorted. “I’m already gonna sleep with you, death; no need to flatter me.”
Shaking his head, fighting his own smile, he paused, enjoying the feel of her legs wrapped around his middle, the scent of her desire tickling his nose. “It’s not flattery, O’Fallen, it’s a simple fact.”
Blinking, as if not sure how to take the compliment, she jerked her chin in the direction of his legs. “Not fair that you’re still wearing your clothes and I’m pretty much naked.”
“Did you know I could do this?” Arching a brow, he pulled on his own inherent magic, willing his clothes, and the scant remains of her own, off their bodies. They were now completely nude and what he hadn’t been able to do back at the tree, he did now. Tracing the contours of her body, not only with his eyes, but his hand. Trailing his finger across the tight rosebud of her nipple, moving to the other one, before gently drawing a line down the center of her flat stomach.
Her thighs clenched, hard. If he’d not been immortal himself, the strength of it would have likely bruised muscle. She sighed, arching into him like a cat in heat.
“Bloody hell,” she moaned.
Replacing his finger with his mouth, he sucked on her nipple, pulling and rolling it between his teeth. “Good?” he asked as she tugged on the ends of his long hair.
“Different,” she said, tossing his words of earlier back at him. He snorted. “So very, very different.”
In this case he took “different” to be code for “amazing.” Or at least that’s what he’d tell himself. With one final flick of his tongue over her breast, he moved down her body.
“Oh my gods,” she breathed, “where are you going?”
Mila had awakened a hunger in him, one he hadn’t felt in far too long. It could be a side effect of her vampiric hormones run rampant, the way her body signaled to his constantly that she was on a painful stage of arousal, bringing forth his own desire to meet her needs, but it was more too. Her eyes, so beautiful, so perfect. Not because they looked identical to Adrianna’s either, not entirely. Talking with her today, sharing her body, he hadn’t been this close to another soul in so long, hadn’t allowed anyone too deep into his life. He hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been until she showed up, until Lise had given him no choice but to keep her, to guard her life with his own.
“What?” She smiled a lazy, graceful smile.
His mouth watered as her scent, the essence of woman, filled his head with a longing so profound it twisted his insides into knots. “I want to taste you. I want all of you, tonight.”
He left it unsaid that tonight could be it for them; they both knew it. Heading into faerie tomorrow, it could very well be the suicide mission she feared.
Nibbling on her bottom lip, blond hair splayed out around her head like a golden halo, she nodded. “I’ve never had anyone do that before,” she admitted shyly.
Kissing along the soft flesh of her inner thigh, he worked his way down to her hot center.
“Frenzy?” His name was a question, but he didn’t think she was really looking for a response, more excitement and the fear of the unknown trembling on her tongue.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, trailing just along the juncture of where her thigh and her center met.
She hissed, curling her fingers into his scalp, digging in hard enough to make him groan in response. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he flicked his tongue over her bright peach nub.