by Jessica Lee
Except for the low-level thump of the bass vibrating off the club’s walls, the rear lot appeared quiet. A lone black Mercedes sedan sat backed into the only available parking slot, its bumper sitting inches from the rear of the building. A run-down two-story dwelling filled the other side of the lot. The bottom floor seemed deserted. The few small windows facing the club from the second level were dressed with curtains and blinds, though no light shone from the inside.
Guerin reached beneath his coat and slid the dagger free from between the waistband of his jeans and lower back. He palmed the hilt of the blade, enjoying the warm, smooth feel of the metal against his skin. He stepped into the spill of white light illuminating the rear half of the Rose’s Thorn’s back lot—and stopped. The fine hairs at his nape lifted, sending a tingle down the center of his back. He straightened his spine, and his fingers tightened around his weapon. But his boots remained firmly planted. Guerin pulled in a lungful of air through his nostrils.
Human.
Interesting.
“I’m here,” Guerin announced. “So the next move’s yours.” He rotated on his heels, and froze.
Definitely not Ana.
The woman standing in front of him stole his ability to breathe.
Beautiful. The word formed on his lips, but no sound emerged. Long waves of midnight hair spilled over her shoulders and framed a delicate heart-shaped face. A face that caused his fingers to itch with a desire to caress. She tilted her head slightly, and full red lips lifted at the corners into a semblance of a smile. Except he couldn’t help but notice it failed to reach her eyes. His gaze locked with irises the color of pale-blue tropical waters. So familiar. Guerin’s pulse quickened. Son of a bitch.
Eve!
“Looking for me?” Two pearl-white fangs dropped from beneath her upper lip.
Guerin tensed, surged forward, and slammed into a wall of pain. A roar tore from his throat. His head was going to explode. He stumbled back, dropping the dagger from his hand. Lights swirled around him in a blur of dizzying color. Shit. Guerin grabbed his head and blinked rapidly, trying to bring the night back into focus.
What the hell was she doing to him?
His knees buckled. Down. Fuck. He was going down… The lights flickered.
Then faded to black.
Chapter Three
A groan vibrated at the back of Guerin’s throat. His shoulders throbbed and his wrists burned. Damn, his head felt as if it had been used in somebody’s perverse version of kickball. He would have laughed at the mental image if his brain didn’t hurt so fucking bad. Guerin dragged his eyelids open, and intense white light stabbed into his retinas. He jerked, slamming his lids shut. Shit.
“Excellent,” a female voice stated from behind him. “You’re finally awake.”
Keeping his eyes closed, Guerin tilted his head in her direction. “I haven’t had my coffee yet,” he said, his words hoarse, coming out of his parched throat. “So watch out. I might bite.”
Guerin shifted the millimeter his restraints allowed and hissed. Manacles laced with silver seared the flesh surrounding his wrists and ankles.
He parted his eyelids once more and surveyed his situation.
Though from the all-too-familiar stance, Guerin didn’t need his sight to know the deal. He’d been cuffed to a St. Andrew’s cross, both arms raised and spread wide. His parted legs formed a perfect upside-down vee, and were secured to the lower half of the contraption. Except instead of facing his kidnapper, his cheek and chest were pressed into the wood of the cross, gifting his captor a full view of his naked back. Cool air caressed his skin, and he realized his briefs were the only item left covering his ass.
“Enjoy your moment of humor, vampire.” His captor’s hand snagged the hair at his nape, wrenching his head back. The tug at his roots sent a sharp twinge down his spine. The combination of the cross and the pain brought his cock roaring to life. Fuck. This was definitely not the time. “For it will most certainly be short-lived if you don’t tell me who sent you looking for Eve.”
With her body next to his, the warm scent of vanilla spiked with cinnamon tantalized his senses. Mistress Fallon? The same fragrance had invaded his nostrils and teased his dick when he’d spoken with her at the Rose’s Thorn. Not a big surprise, considering she’d been the one to set him up, and he’d walked right into her trap.
The next obvious questions: where the hell was Eve, and how the fuck was he going to get his ass off this cross?
“Why don’t you go first?” Guerin yanked his head out of her hold and tried to snag a glance of his kidnapper over his shoulder. But the moment he caught a glimpse of long dark hair, she stepped out of sight. Dark hair? Fallon had been a redhead. Could it be…?
“Eve,” he continued. “I know it was you who hit me with some kind of pulse last night. So I take it you and Mistress Fallon are one and the same?”
The crack of leather echoed through the room a split second before the silver-studded tendrils of a flogger seared his back. Guerin hissed. Silver was the only explanation for the level of pain exploding across his shoulder blades. The residual burn radiated through his flesh as if a dozen cigar-smoking bastards had used him for an ashtray.
“I believe you’ve somehow gotten the wrong impression that this is a two-way question-and-answer session.” Another snap filled the air. Guerin sucked in a harsh breath, and his cock throbbed, straining against the material covering his pelvis, waiting for the next blow. But this time, only the lingering sizzle of the first strike licked at his nerve endings. “The only words I want exiting your mouth are the name and location of who you’re working for.”
“Or what?” Guerin growled.
Snap!
Another searing strike of the flogger landed across his back, followed by a lungful of sweet vanilla and cinnamon. Pain arced through his nerve endings, drawing his balls tight and boiling the cum inside. Guerin’s fangs burst from his gums, stabbing into his lower lip, and flooding his mouth with the metallic taste of his own blood. Son of a bitch.
His body was out of control, responding as if he’d never walked away from this. From the pain. Like an alcoholic who’d swallowed his first taste of liquor after years of sobriety, the need was back and raging in the forefront of his mind. Wanting nothing more than to beg her to strike him one more time—hell, a hundred more times.
Christ. He’d vowed never to allow himself to succumb to his darker desires. Especially with a female vampire. Not after Daniela. His sire and former Mistress had wielded his passion for pain and his submissive nature, when it came to sex, as a cruel weapon. She’d used and manipulated him until there was nothing left but mangled pieces of his heart—his trust—on the dungeon floor. He’d been nothing but a toy.
His submission a joke.
“Or pain will be the only thing you know until the moment you do. It’s not as if I don’t already know the answer. But I want to confirm my suspicions before I—”
“Kill me?” He swung his head around, searching for another glimpse of his captor. “Then you should be prepared for murder,” Guerin spit. “Because I will never submit and give you what you want to hear.”
“Oh really?” A blur of color danced before his eyes, and then she was there, in his face. Layers of sinfully dark hair fell over her shoulders and soft curls teased her cheeks. Eve’s vivid blue gaze snagged and held his. She leaned in. Close enough that the urge to reach out with his tongue and taste the luscious curves of her lips was nearly irresistible. “Is that a challenge, vampire? You don’t believe I can bring the walls down inside your mind?”
Guerin pulled in a deep, stabilizing breath through his nostrils. The scent of her arousal barreled into his brain, knocking out what little defenses he had left. In its wake, white-hot lust surged through his veins. Oh, shit! Guerin curled his fingers, digging his nails into his palms.
“Call it what you want, Eve,” he growled, surprised at his ability to form a coherent sentence. “But know this before you continu
e with your little plan: pain will never break me.” Guerin narrowed his gaze on her and licked the last drop of blood from the corner of his mouth.
One perfectly arched brow lifted, and she stepped back. “Now how could I resist a dare like that?” Eve stroked the tassels of the deep purple flogger in her hand—and disappeared.
Less than a heartbeat later, the leather tendrils sprawled across his back, punching the air from his lungs.
Over and over Eve worked the silver into his flesh. How long it went on, Guerin had no damn clue. He’d lost all sense of time. The smell of smoldering flesh and blood and the heady scent of arousal filled the air. His and hers. Guerin rolled his head over his shoulders. Yes! His brain—his cock—sipped on the endorphins racing into his bloodstream. He moaned. It was a high like no other.
“Tell me!” Her frustrated demand pierced his eardrums.
“Fuck you,” he managed to spout.
Her scream ricocheted off the stone walls right before his wrists and ankles were freed. His knees buckled under his weight, but Guerin rebounded and straightened. She grabbed his arms, spun him, and shoved his spine and the open wounds into the cross’s center support post. Guerin’s breath hitched. White dots danced in front of his eyes. He blinked, chasing them away, doing his best to focus on the female in front him.
“You bastard,” she spat, then reached out and clawed her way down his chest. Guerin’s head lolled onto the wood with a groan. Too drained of strength to do anything more, he wrapped his arms around her and hauled her against him. Her lower abdomen slammed against his throbbing erection. Fuck, yeah. He rocked into her warmth. Eve hissed. Then she was at his throat, sinking her fangs into his flesh. Hard tremors rippled through her body.
Guerin stiffened, and a roar erupted from his lungs. The climax he’d held at bay burst from his cock. Unable to stop, he pumped his hips against hers. Every brush along his sensitized flesh, every pull at his vein, released another jet of cum from the end of his shaft. God, how long had it been since he’d felt ecstasy on this level?
Never.
Eve pushed free from his throat and arms, eyes glazed. With a thumb and forefinger, she wiped away the smear of blood beneath her lip. Guerin staggered but grasped one arm of the cross to hold himself steady. The lingering effects of his flogging and the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced wreaked havoc on his ability to stand upright. And judging by Eve’s labored breaths, she’d been equally affected.
The hardened tips of her nipples tented the delicate blue silk of her blouse, sending his imagination into overdrive. Were they as dark and rosy as the color of her lips? Would they taste as sweet as she smelled? His mouth watered, and it was all Guerin could do to drag his gaze away. The moment their stares locked, Eve’s gaze flicked to his crotch and her nostrils flared.
“Was it good for you too, baby?” He couldn’t help the sarcastic tone in his voice that said I told you so.
“Asshole,” she whispered. Her eyelids drifted closed a second before what felt like the sharp end of a dagger’s blade sliced through his skull. He cried out and clutched the sides of his head. “She is her mother’s daughter.” Marguerite’s words looped in his brain.
“Eve! Stop…,” he groaned. His eyelids sagged, his ability to hold on to consciousness waning.
Then once more, darkness.
“More,” he moaned, his head spinning. “Please…Mistress.” He was so close to the precipice.
Daniela smiled, raking her gaze over his naked form while tugging the gloves from her fingertips. “Impressive. Pity I can’t honor your request, since I do enjoy hearing you beg. But I want to make sure this continues to work.” She fisted the end of his hard length, making sure her nails bit into the hypersensitive tissue.
“Yes!” Guerin’s spine arched, rattling the shackles holding him to the cross. The pain should have been enough to buckle any other male, make him beg for mercy. But he wasn’t like any other male.
For the last twenty-five years, Daniela had seen to that.
His Mistress knew what she was doing, and the quantity of pure silver embedded inside the cock ring was enough to brand him but not enough to castrate. She enjoyed his dick too much to risk its removal.
“You come, and this will be the last night you spend on my cross for a very long time.” Daniela scratched beneath the head of his shaft for emphasis. “Understand, pet?”
Guerin hissed, yanking hard on the reins to his orgasm. “Yes, Mistress.” Her threats were never empty, and she knew every one of his buttons. She should, since she’d been the one to unearth them from his psyche. And she played him like a finely tuned instrument. An erotic melody choreographed especially for her pleasure.
Daniela nodded, and with her remaining gloved hand reached over to a nearby table. “I think you’ll enjoy these,” she crooned. Guerin caught the shimmer of the object between her fingers right before she clamped it over his erect nipple. The combination of the hard pinch and the sting of silver arrowed straight to his balls, drawing them even more, shoving the ring tighter against his flesh. He bucked against his manacles, squeezing his eyes shut. Less than a breath later, Daniela repeated the process on the other side. The pressure gathering inside his cock was not going to be denied much longer.
“Mistress…please,” he groaned. “Give me release.”
“What do I get in return?”
Guerin lifted his eyelids, his gaze finding Daniela’s dark eyes, and his heart fisted in his chest. “Anything,” he whispered. “You know I love you. I would give you anything—do anything—to make you happy.”
A radiant smile bloomed on her face, exposing the tips of her fangs. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Daniela spun, her sheer black gown and blond locks fanning out around her like a dark angel. “Bring her in,” she called out.
The double doors to their suite opened wide, and two large vampires marched inside, dragging a sobbing girl between them.
“Here,” Daniela pointed to the polished wood floor. Her minions dropped the human female, who couldn’t be more than eighteen, onto her knees. With her hands bound behind her back, she tossed her matted brown hair out of her eyes and looked up. Eyes glazed with horror met his, and she screamed. Guerin could only imagine what his appearance was doing to her innocent mind: a bloodied nude male chained to a wooden cross.
“Shut her up!” Daniela’s vamps launched into action and gagged their prisoner. “Now.” She threaded her fingers through the blond tresses around her face and sauntered in Guerin’s direction. “What do you think of her, pet?”
“I think she’s frightened as hell,” he said, the blood roaring inside his head, jacked up on the scent of her panic and his own adrenaline. “Why not ease her mind instead of stifling her screams?”
Daniela tsked. “What would be the fun in that? I want you to drink in her fear when you kill her.”
Guerin’s eyelids jerked open. A dream. Shit. It had felt so real. As if he’d jumped 250 years back in time. Except it had been his reality, and the dream had actually been a flashback. A wave of nausea sent a rush of bile to the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, scanning his surroundings.
Overhead fluorescent lighting glinted off the thin silver bars of his cell. What the hell? How had his ass landed in a cage? He guessed his brain hadn’t quite checked back in on the happenings over the last few hours. A disturbance in the air moved over his damp skin and had gooseflesh lifting over his bare chest and limbs. He breathed deep, and the sweet molecules of vanilla mixed with cinnamon sparked Guerin’s neurons back to life. The memories of the last few days were unveiled inside his brain like a curtain parting on a stage.
Blood rushed to his groin, and Guerin slammed his eyes shut.
Eve had returned.
Chapter Four
Seth Keller strummed his nails over the thick wooden arm of his favorite chair in front of the fire. They were late. And the crumbling edge where he stood over the chasm called fury grew more fragile with each passing mome
nt.
“Master.” The soft voice of his male calyx, or human feeding servant, called from the arched doorway. Seth turned his gaze from the hearth. “They have arrived, sir.”
“Direct them below.” Seth returned to the flames, mesmerized by the flicker of alternating red, orange, and blue. He’d lived two centuries as a creature of the night, but he’d never grown tired of partaking in a well-stoked fire. The heat and glow reminded him of warm summer days when he used to walk beneath the sun’s rays. He sighed, leaned in, and lifted his hand, palm side out, toward the hearth, absorbing its radiance. “Ah, to feel the dawn’s light on my skin once more.”
He stood, adjusted his black Prada blazer, and shook off his momentary indulgence in nostalgia. His reflection glared back at him from the large gilded mirror hanging over the mantel. His green eyes shone in the firelight, a stark contrast to his pale complexion and even paler platinum-blond hair. He smoothed the straight, shoulder-length locks behind his ears. It was time to see if the female waiting in his basement knew more than she’d already revealed. If so, evolution was nearly in his grasp, and his fantasy would not be such a frivolous waste of time.
Irate murmurings echoed off the walls and trailed up the narrow flight of stairs that led to Seth’s underground chambers. One by one, he sauntered down the steps, allowing the creaking wood to announce his arrival. Conversations dwindled to silence, and all heads turned as he entered the softly lit cavernous space.
“Well now, Ana…” Seth lifted his arms and held them open in greeting. “Thank you for meeting with me tonight.”
“Did I have a choice?” Ana lowered the hood of her scarlet velvet cape.
Seth quirked his lips and added a chuckle. “One always has a choice, liebling.” He ambled over to the large overstuffed chair in front of the three vampires and eased onto the seat. “Albeit, some options are more desirable than others.” Seth’s gaze flickered between his two vampire minions, and he gave a slight nod.