From the Dark

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From the Dark Page 11

by Michele Hauf


  She’d found something that interested her. Yes, right there. Michael groaned. Almighty demons, the woman was not meek. Her fingers cupped his crotch, exploring the shape of his hard-on through the suede pants.

  “You first,” she purred. “I think these pants are too tight, and mighty uncomfortable.”

  She’d already tugged the leather laces free, so Michael had only to shrug the pants from his hips, Jane slid to the floor before him. Knees parted to either side of his feet, she looked up at him. No angel had ever smiled so wickedly.

  First kiss of her lips to his attitude and the world literally rocked.

  Tossing back his head and pushing his fingers through Jane’s copper tousle, Michael closed his eyes to the sinful touch of this devil’s daughter.

  Sweet Jane of the garden flowers and bare feet. He knew this woman had lived more lifetimes than he could ever imagine. She had experienced the world, and had likely many lovers to perfect her prowess. Jane was no wilted flower who shied from her own passions.

  “Oh, baby.” He tensed his jaw and prepared for the release. “Yeess.”

  He could not wait, and he would not. Michael came with a twist of bittersweet darkness. She took his climax into her mouth—but he couldn’t lift her up to kiss her, to nuzzle into her hair and then slip a finger into her to coax her to orgasm.

  His fangs had come out to play. The monster had snuck up on him without warning. He hadn’t sensed the hunger.

  Now it was too late.

  He shoved her hard onto the couch. “Get out! I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Crouched on the couch, Jane wiped her mouth with a swipe of her hand. She wore him on her lips.

  Even as she scrambled over the back of the couch, Michael lunged and caught the hem of her skirt. Jane tumbled to the floor and hit the hardwood with a cry of pain.

  Grabbing his pants and slipping them back up around his hips, Michael shouted again for her to hurry, as Jane managed to pull herself up. She didn’t even look at him. Her pink skirts breezed out of the room. Bare feet scampered up the stairs.

  The vampire lunged around the couch, and as he passed through the door, his body jerked and convulsed. Catching his palms against the doorjamb, Michael coiled down and into himself. So strong, this urge. It clawed. It growled. The body had gotten satisfaction.

  Now it was time for the real hunger.

  “Why can’t I stop this?” He winced so hard his entire face grew hot and he felt sure a vein would burst and pour out the tainted blood that flowed through him. “I’ve got to fight it.”

  Go get her.

  Running the hallway, his feet took action before his brain could decide if it was right or wrong. It wasn’t right. He’d made Jane a promise he would not harm her.

  It does them no harm! The blood extraction brings them great pleasure. Give it to her!

  “Jane!”

  Chapter 14

  J ane felt sure no bolt lock the size of her littlest finger would keep anything out from her room tonight. Not a raging rock star. Not a furious monster.

  Eyeing the corner of the bed frame, she struggled with a flashing thought. The frame was wood, the post topped by a fist-sized whitewashed ball. She could twist off the leg and smash it in half. A stake.

  “No. Can’t do that to him,” she murmured. “What else?”

  Her entire fortune for a cross or splash of holy water right now. It wouldn’t serve any more than give him a nasty burn, and maybe quiet the raging beast for the night. Long enough to get him to the coffin, where the darkness would settle his soul and he’d succumb to sleep. And she’d been thinking the coffin ridiculous.

  While she knew her own blood might serve the ultimate weapon against a vampire, she had not once taken life, and didn’t intend to start anytime soon—or until the full moon arrived.

  Rushing into the bathroom, she pulled open the medicine cabinet. Out in the bedroom, the door rattled on the hinges. Michael growled. The beast wanted blood.

  The beast could break down the door if it wanted to, so some moral code deep within Michael held him at bay.

  All she had was a toothbrush, toothpaste, a plastic razor and…a bottle of aspirin. Two hundred and fifty count aspirin.

  “Should keep him busy for a while.”

  Gripping the bottle, she tore off the cover and pried away the tight silver seal. She’d have to be spare with them.

  Scratches and kicks punctuated the vampire’s angry hunger.

  There was no way Michael could rise above the innate need to feed. He’d slipped into a wicked routine of sex, blood and rock ’n’ roll. Had she been a fool to believe that anything could change him?

  The wood door creaked and a thick bolt flew through the air, missing Jane’s cheek by spare inches.

  And there he stood, chest bared and heaving, arms curved out at his sides. One of the fallen fighting his way up from hell. A man struggling to control his dark impulses.

  “Run, Jane,” he hissed. “Please.”

  “No.” She never ran away from a challenge. Besides, there was nowhere to run.

  “We had a deal. You run when I tell you to. Don’t make me regret my actions.”

  “Just breathe, Michael. Take deep breaths and try to calm yourself.”

  “Too late.” He licked his lower lip. “I can’t get the scent of your blood from my nose. You’re inside me, Jane.”

  He stepped into the room, his pace stiff, awkward. He tried to fight the monster, to hold it back. She felt it.

  “I’ve got…” She held up the plastic bottle. “Oh mon Dieu. I hope this works.”

  Scattering half the contents on the floor, she then stepped back and around to the other side of the bed, putting a barrier between she and Michael. He stepped over the mess, but paused on the other side and looked down at the tiny white pills.

  “What the hell?”

  “Aren’t they pretty?” Jane said as she climbed over the bed and made her way cautiously out of his peripheral vision. “You should count them.”

  “Count—are you freakin’—?” Arms curled and chest huffing, Michael snapped backwards to look over his shoulder. “Although…”

  Cocking his head, a curious beast, the man stared at the floor. No longer did he huff and growl. His entire body bent to study the aspirins.

  “There must be hundreds. Why did you spill them? Jane. Where are you going? We’re not finished. I’m coming after you. One, two, three…”

  Reaching the door, which hung from one bolt, Jane dropped another aspirin on the floor. Michael saw, but he spread his fingers over the pills before him, unwilling to leave his treasure.

  “That’s right, Michael. I’ve got more.” Backing down the hallway and toward the stairs, she dropped aspirins in a trail. Leading the creature to his lair. She prayed this would not backfire on her.

  Crouched intently, he appeared in the doorway, picking up the aspirins and whispering his tally as he followed her down the hall and the stairs.

  When she reached the bottom of the basement stairs, Jane dumped the last few aspirins into the open coffin and stepped into the shadows. Sliding along the wall as Michael descended into the darkness, she stretched out and slapped his clutched fist.

  Aspirins flew everywhere, landing on the cement floor and skittering into the shadows.

  “What did you do that for?” He lunged for her. Jane dodged but tripped, landing the on bottom step. Michael’s hot breath hissed at her ear. “I’ve got you now. You smell so…oh…damn you, but you’re mine.”

  “Take me then, vampire.” Smoke and tangible anger curdled her desire. But his closeness ever drew her into his exotic allure. He could have her…“Oh! Did you get that one?”

  “Huh?” He looked to the aspirin she pointed to. The vampire twisted a kink from his neck and bent to count. “One.” He spied the next pill and crept over to it. “Two.”

  Relieved to have escaped her own shortcomings, Jane scrambled up the stairs. “This is for your own good, Michael.
Please, stay down here. Try to sleep it off.”

  She slammed the door at the top of the stairs. It didn’t have a bolt, not even a simple push-button lock in the knob.

  Blowing strands of hair from her face, Jane settled against the wall. There was no sense in running. He either took her advice, and slept it off, or the monster would soon be knocking at her door. This was going to be a long night.

  The beast slept. In fact, Jane didn’t hear stirring below until well into afternoon the following day. Though angry at him for raging at her last night, she couldn’t make herself hate him for it.

  The train had gone off the tracks. When she had started to care about him? After their first kiss in the garden?

  No, it had been the morning after they’d first made love and she’d woken up amidst a bed of roses. And she’d looked for the burn on his face and had found none. Healed.

  So no, she would not fault him for slipping last night. The man was an addict. Addictions were not cured, they were managed. And they had slowly begun to manage the monster inside Michael.

  As Jane put the finishing touches to window number three, she heard the floorboards out in the hallway creak. Not turning to acknowledge him, because she wanted to keep a finger to the last seam so it sealed properly, Jane listened as Michael padded around behind her.

  Pacing? The scruff of his suede pants sounded ridiculously loud. Ever in motion. Alive with chaotic sensuality. Impossible to pick up on his breathing, so she couldn’t determine his mood. Yet her magic lifted, seeking to put up a barrier. Had it been her inner charm that ultimately kept the vampire at bay last night?

  The source. Come on, Jane, this man was dropped into your lap. You don’t need Ravin. What you need is to stop this idiot caring business.

  Closing her eyes tightly, Jane fought against the nasty little devil on her shoulder.

  He would have bitten you. Why shouldn’t you use him?

  Finally Michael walked around the opposite side of the plywood table and studied her work for a few moments. Not having the words to speak that would make her feel any different about last night, or him, she decided silence was best.

  He inhaled and leaned over the plywood. A fist pounded the wood, upsetting her glass pieces. Spreading out his hand, dozens of tiny white pills spilled across a cut portion of vibrant scarlet glass.

  His mouth moved into a quick curve. “What,” he said, “in all the world was this for?”

  Heartened by his smile, Jane released her breath. For a moment there she wouldn’t have been surprised to have him lunge for her and finish what he had tried to start last night.

  She shook her head, marveling at the power she had wielded in utilizing such an average item. Yes, aspirins.

  “The best way to defeat a vampire?” she said. “Give them something to count. Myth and lore tells how peasants used to bury prospective vampires with fishing nets. If the dead body revived to go out and seek blood, it couldn’t because it would have to count the knots in the net first. Didn’t you know that?”

  “During moments like last night, I don’t know much beyond the blood hunger. I want. I feed. So…give me something to count, and I’m defeated?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  He toggled an aspirin and chuckled, then he stepped back and let loose a burst of laughter. “Oh, Jane. You tamed the vicious vampire last night. You and your bottle of pills.”

  Suddenly Michael smacked his forehead with an open palm. “Jane, I’ve had an epiphany. I can’t believe it. All this time…” He ran his fingers back through his hair. “I’ve always been a counter. Isn’t that freaky?”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  “So,” she released hold on the seam, “you’re feeling less peckish today?”

  “Yes. I managed to get myself in order once down in the dark. Alone with my aspirins. So, like anything? A bunch of stones or a pile of guitar picks? Anything to count?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s so bizarre.”

  “Much safer than a stake, wouldn’t you say?”

  He jerked his attention across the table. A spot of something close to fear glittered in each eye. “You wouldn’t?”

  “I considered it.” He deserved to know how desperate she had been. It wasn’t every day a girl goes from nine on a sexual pleasure scale and is jerked down to a negative one within a snap.

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” She brushed remnants of copper tape from the window and stood back to look over her work.

  “That’s harsh, Jane. I would never harm you, I’ve told you that.”

  “And I believe you. But it wasn’t you who broke down my bedroom door last night, was it?”

  “If I said it was the darkness inside of me, it would be an excuse. I’ve got to lay claim to the monster. It’s as much a part of me as my breath.”

  “That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say since we’ve met.”

  No, she couldn’t walk away from the vampire. Nor would she consider him for the ritual. That wasn’t going to happen. There were some things in life not worth a sacrifice. Like this man’s trust.

  “I think we went a little too far last night. We should have taken things more slowly.”

  “Too far? Jane, I don’t know where you learned to make love like that, but there was no slowing down once you started.”

  “Exactly. Michael, I’m serious. I mean, we’ve got to slow the sex down.”

  “Slow is good.” He leaned across the plywood table and his hair brushed over her hand. “All night long, the two of us, wrapped in each other’s arms.”

  “Yes, well, that’s why I think it worked when we were in the shower. We were both tired, taking things slowly. And maybe your senses were distracted by the water. You couldn’t focus on the angry need inside you.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Probably. We’ve got to be reasonable about this. It’s either slow out of the gate or else take precautions.”

  “What does that mean? Can you get pregnant? Of course you can.” He swiped a palm over his mouth, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I can get pregnant. After all, my mother and father had me. But don’t worry, it’s not the right time of the month.”

  “The right time? Are you on birth control?”

  “No, but I know my cycle. But you should pick up some condoms next time you’re in town.”

  “Will do.”

  Moving a few pieces of emerald glass together, Jane formed what would be a leaf set into the lower quadrant of window number three. Michael collected the aspirins and tossed them into the box she kept under the table for scraps.

  “So,” she asked, “how do you feel today?”

  “Good.”

  “Better?”

  “You mean, stronger? More powerful? Yes, I think so. And we didn’t even complete the sex last night. It’s really working, Jane.”

  “Glad to know I can help.”

  “I’m not doing this just to gain power, Jane. If you think that…”

  “I don’t. I know it’s something else entirely.”

  “It is. Or is it? Is it your magic that draws me? Are you making me do this?”

  She dropped a piece of glass and it snapped in two. “How dare you even suggest that. Michael, I do not need to influence any man to have sex with me. Damn it!” She tossed the broken pieces in the box and stomped away from him toward the windows.

  Stupid man. So self-possessed.

  She stomped her foot again, feeling the need to plunge into her anger.

  Michael saw the window teeter, but even as he opened his mouth to warn Jane, he knew it would be too late. He rushed across the room as the eight-foot tall window silently tilted forward.

  Jane swung about, sighting the movement, and cringed.

  “No, run!” he hissed, but it was too late.

  The window fell. Exquisite myriad colors sailed through the air, heading toward t
he artist. He waited for Jane’s scream. But it did not come.

  Nor did the window crash and break into a million glittering splinters.

  Jane stood in a crouch, her hands put up to block the window. Glass fit together in colored sections of azure and crimson and emerald hovered but inches from her fingers. The entire window hung suspended, mid fall—unbroken.

  “Bloody hell. She’s…holding it back?”

  Michael wasn’t sure what to do. He could whisk her away from a sure and ugly death. He could grab the window and toss it aside. Which would prove a faster move?

  Before he could decide, the glass cracked and continued its fall to the floor.

  Jane still did not scream. She didn’t even move. And while she faced the falling glass, her mouth open in horror, not a single shard sliced her body.

  Ruby glass sparkled and crashed into the hardwood. Azure slivers, glinting along the deadly edges, scattered and sprayed everywhere. Every color broke away, and slid around Jane, to die a vivid death at her feet.

  And when it was all over, Michael grabbed Jane and whisked her out from the fallen shards. She clung to him, shaking. Fear scent loomed about her like a swarm of insects thick in her hair.

  Michael gripped her tightly, wanting to press her into him, if only to be safe. And yet, the aroma of her fear drew down his teeth. He stretched out his mouth, fighting back the involuntary need.

  “Michael?”

  His entire body rigid to fight the want, he hugged her tighter, granting comfort while fighting himself.

  There on the floor, in the exact outline of where Jane had stood, lay no glass.

  “It fell around you?”

  Jane turned within Michael’s tight hold to look over the disaster. She reached back, clutching at his suede pants, finding his hips and digging in her fingernails. He moaned.

  “Mon Dieu,” she murmured. “It’s really working.”

  A shiver of fear moved her body against his—no, no more fear. Michael no longer felt the acrid tinge of anxiety sweeping into his pores, instead, it had been replaced with that fruity cheery feeling he’d initially felt upon meeting this woman. Elation overtook Jane’s fear—and his teeth retracted.

 

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