by Zena Wynn
Reyna forced herself to sit back in her chair and relax, even though she felt like a cat with her paw caught in a trap. Good thing she’d finished eating. Her normally healthy appetite was gone. “If I do this, you guys will leave me alone? No more pressuring me to ‘get a life,’ as you put it?”
Caitlyn, Delaney, and Lexy’s eyes all met in silent communication. They turned to Jacey and she nodded. “Yes,” they said, almost in unison.
Lexy held out her hand to Reyna.
Reyna made no move to shake it. “What? You’re not going to spit on it to seal the deal?”
“Eww!” Caitlyn said.
“That’s disgusting,” Jacey agreed.
“Not to mention juvenile,” Lexy added.
“And this isn’t?” Reyna asked.
“Reyna, honey, don’t be mad.” Jacey glanced at the other women. “You don’t have to go if you really hate the idea. It’s just that we worry about you. Other than work and us, you never have anything to talk about.”
“No other friends,” Lexy said.
“No boyfriends,” Caitlyn added.
“You don’t even mention family,” Delaney finished solemnly.
“You seem so…isolated,” Jacey said sadly.
Reyna looked at her friends, all staring at her with varying degrees of concern on their faces. This is what living a double life led to, she realized. They had good intentions, even if she didn’t like their methods. “You’re right. I’ll go and try to have fun.”
They all heaved sighs of relief.
“Come over to my place about nine and we’ll help you get ready,” Jacey instructed.
To Reyna’s dismay, Jacey had proved to be as good as her word. Hours later she’d found herself strutting to the head of the line in her borrowed outfit, ignoring the insults and curses hurled at her, praying all the while she’d be turned away at the door. Head held high, she’d marched right up to the tall, brawny, scary-looking Roman Centurion guarding the entrance and held out the coin Jacey had promised would get her inside, no questions asked.
The security guard had given her the once over, blatantly checking out all the skin Reyna displayed. His gaze had lingered a bit longer on her pulse points than she was comfortable with, but used to dealing with predators Reyna knew not to show her unease. Finally he took the coin from her and examined it.
It was Roman in nature, with a picture of Caesar on the front. It shone with the patina of old gold, and Reyna briefly wondered if the coin was real and valuable. If so, how had Jacey acquired it? It must have passed muster for the Centurion handed it back to her and the guards standing at the door let her pass.
Fun, Reyna thought as she cradled her drink to her chest, staring into it as if it held the answers to all the secrets of the universe. Sure, she was having fun…not. This place was so not her scene. There were too many people, too many bodies packed together like sardines in a can. Yes, the place was huge but she preferred wide-open spaces with room to run and be free. Like home, she thought with a sigh.
Still trying to avoid eye contact with everyone, she gave herself a pep talk. Come on, just a little longer and you’ll be home free.
Already she could fell the hot, satiny water of her Jacuzzi tub caressing her naked body. She’d light some candles, put on some soothing music, lay her head back on the bath pillow, and soak away her cares. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself holding up her leg, admiring its slim shapeliness as the suds slid down her slender body. Anything to get her mind off where she was.
Another peak at the watch showed twelve minutes remaining. Time to start making her way to the door.
Tariq Bastien left his penthouse lair by way of the private elevator coded to his voice command. “Third floor.”
“Yes, master,” the computerized voice said as the doors swooshed closed behind him.
His staff, comprised of members of his Clutch and the few humans he trusted, were more than capable of handling things and keeping everyone in line, but he preferred the hands on approach to business so he made a personal appearance in the club each night. His customers had come to expect it.
The music was loud and pumping. The place packed. As normal, business was booming. He knew the drinks, music, and atmosphere were only part of the appeal. The main lure was the Vampyr themselves. Humans loved them, loved the idea of rubbing elbows with his kind.
In the five years since their official unveiling, they were still just as much of a mystery as when they’d come out, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d remain one. As a result, he kept a close eye on the more…unruly of his kind.
They’d done a hell of a public relations’ job, making themselves seem the same as humans with the exception of a few special…enhancements, the result of their transition to earth. Sort of like Superman, with fangs. It took a while but the majority of the populace now believed they were exactly what they portrayed themselves to be instead of the powerful predators they really were.
It had helped when humans discovered a lot of the myths about them—myths they themselves perpetrated—were false. Unlike their fictional counterparts, sunlight didn’t kill them. Weaken their powers? Yes. And unlike the movies, they didn’t fall into a deathlike sleep as soon as the sun rose, but they were nocturnal, as were most of earth’s predators.
As he walked the three levels of the club he nodded to security, dressed as Roman Gladiators, whose job it was to ensure no mishaps occurred. Vampyrs didn’t solely depend on blood to survive. In fact, in large quantities Earthlings’ blood was highly addictive, providing the same buzz as opiates or narcotics in their purist form to humans.
The last thing he wanted was for some vampyr who couldn’t control himself to bleed out a human. Not on his watch, and not after all they’d done to convince humans the image of them as bloodthirsty killers was just a fable and unsubstantial as mist. For the most part it was true, except for when one of his kind first arrived on planet.
The gravity on Vampalien was much denser than Earth. After space travel in zero and artificial gravity, their blood volume was low when they first left the spaceship. For the first three days they’d drain dry any being foolhardy enough to come within clutching distance until their blood pressure gradient equalized. Unfortunately, it was during this time a lot of Vampyrs develop an unquenchable thirst for human blood, much like a cancer patient addicted to morphine.
Tariq stopped and stood at his favorite lookout spot, which allowed him an eagle’s view of the entire club. Things were quiet tonight. All the little Vampyrs were playing nice, abiding by Vampalien rules. He was about to turn and go back to his office when it hit him.
Emotions slammed into him. He filtered them through his senses: a human female, impatient, frustrated, and underneath it all, afraid. Then, almost before he’d finished processing, an overwhelming sense of relief. He hunted the source. Whoever she was, she was broadcasting loudly.
For him to receive it meant only one thing—his Heart’s Blood was near.
His cock hardened at the thought. A bloodmate, for him. But which one was she? As usual, a high percentage of tonight’s clientele were female. He scanned the crowd, lowered his shields until he locked onto the direction from where the emotions emanated.
There, near the bar on the second level.
A beautiful woman in a black, figure-hugging off the shoulder dress suddenly stood, pushed away from the counter, and strode determinedly toward the exit. It was her. Tariq couldn’t let her get away.
Reyna twisted and turned as she pushed her way to the exit. She kept her gaze averted to avoid accidentally making eye contact with anyone. She was congratulating herself on her success when she plowed into a massive, rock hard body.
“Excuse me,” she muttered, scowling as she tried to maneuver her way around him. Where’d he come from? The path had been clear a second ago.
A large hand clamped possessively on her elbow, halting her. “Y
ou want to dance with me.”
Reyna shivered as the deep voice went through her, causing her nipples to peak. Damn, a vampyr. Had to be. Despite the loud music, she heard him as clearly as if he’d spoken directly into her ear, except he’d never bent down and placed his mouth to it. Since her head was level with his chest, it had to be a display of vamp powers. She shook off the hint of compulsion embedded in his command.
“Actually, I don’t. I was just leaving.” Reyna yanked her arm free and as she did, the lighted dial of her watch swung into view. She still had seven minutes. She wouldn’t put it past Delaney and Caitlyn to be waiting outside to see if she’d stuck to the terms of their agreement.
“I insist.” He grabbed her forearm and began towing her towards the lighted dance floor.
High-handed bastard, she thought, glancing over her shoulder to see the exit grow further and further away.
As if by magic, the crowd parted before him, creating an open path to the dance floor. Reyna sighed. One dance wouldn’t kill her. Then she was out of here, no matter what.
He pulled her close as they danced. “Tell me your name.”
Reyna ignored the command, looking everywhere but at him. A not so subtle glance at her watch indicated she could leave in another two minutes. She counted down the time in her head.
“Look at me.”
She snorted. Like that was going to happen.
Finally, it was time. She abruptly pulled away. “Thanks for the dance,” she tossed over her shoulder as she turned to walk away. She’d taken two steps when the club went totally dark and the music ceased. Reyna was forced to stop. Even she couldn’t see in this pitch black. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.
A single drumbeat broke the silence.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
Another drum joined in counterpoint.
Tap. Thump. Tap. Thump. Tap. Thump.
The beat started low, then slowly swelled. It was hypnotic and pulsing. Reminiscent of the jungle beats of the deepest, darkest parts of Africa. It dug under her skin and into her bones.
Blue lights lit the floors, casting everyone in white in glowing blue. The rest were dark shadows. Her dance partner stepped close behind her, wrapped an arm around her waist and swayed her to the driving rhythm.
Reyna’s instincts screamed at her to get away, but thinking was suddenly hard. Her mind grew sluggish. All she could do was feel. Feel the beat. Feel the hard aroused body plastered to her back. The muscular band he called an arm bound her to him, enveloping her center.
Her vagina grew moist as visions of naked, sweaty bodies engaged in orgasmic activity streamed through her head. Chill bumps spread up and down her arm and the hairs stood up in response. What’s happening to me?
The male wrapped both arms around her. One slid low to chain her belly, close to her mound. The other rose to rest below her breasts. Then he began to chant in rhythm with the beat. The foreign sounding words did something to her and for a moment, fear caused her to surface from the enchantment holding her enthralled.
Run, Reyna. Fight.
As though someone flipped a switch, her brief struggle ended before it could begin as sensible, careful Reyna faded and the part of herself she’d fought against and tried to deny all of her life rose to the surface and took her place.
“You and I are one. Blood of my blood. Flesh of my flesh. You are the very heart that beats in my breast. From this time forth, no more twain but one. My body I give to thee. Your body I receive from thee to treasure, to pleasure, to hold secure. My life for yours, for all eternity.”
Tariq chanted the ritual words, binding this woman to him. He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know how she felt about Vampyrs or being united with one. None of it mattered. By law she was now his. His to keep. His to protect. Most of all, his to bond with and he kept what belonged to him.
He felt his fangs lengthen and the glands behind his ears began to harden and swell as the venom made its presence known. Once injected, it would mark her as his and prepare her ovum to accept his seed. It would also act as a locator. With it in her system, he could find her anywhere on earth.
Most importantly, it was a powerful aphrodisiac. When it hit her bloodstream, she would be helpless against the lust that consumed her, consumed both of them. While the venom didn’t discriminate, the pheromones he released would ensure her desire was only for him. A potent double-whammy for the toxin affected him as well.
He tightened his arm until it resembled a steel band. With his left hand he gathered her hair and twisted it like a rope, using it like a handle to pull her head to the side, exposing her neck. Slowly he licked her pulse point, wanting to savor the moment. It wasn’t every day a male found his Heart’s Blood.
She moaned and the sound went straight to his groin. He hovered over her, inhaling the sweet scent of her life’s essence. The bitter tasting fluid dripping into his mouth pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He forgot the club and its inhabitants. His mind, his very life force was focused on this long awaited claiming. Unable to wait any longer, he struck like a snake.
Her body jerked and she screamed. Tariq knew the venom entered like ice and then burnt like fire, for he too was feeling its effects as it coursed through his system. It seemed to streak like lightning straight to his groin and radiate outward. He only had seconds until it hit his brain and he lost all cognitive abilities.
Gathering her close, he teleported them to his quarters.
The minute he released her, she turned on him like a tigress, her clawlike nails extended. She tore at his clothing, all the while making these mewling sounds that drove him past the dark side of crazy. He froze for a nano-second as his brain seized, then every rational cell in his head shut down and the beast within him burst free.
Two slashes and her dress was in tatters. His cock burst free as she ripped loose the opening of his jeans and tried to climb his body. Tariq roared in approval as he slammed her back against the wall. He had to be in her now.
After that, things were a blur. He remembered rutting like a wild animal, biting, clawing—not all of it him—and blood before passing out.
Chapter Two
Reyna woke to the sensation that something was very wrong. The surface she was on didn’t feel like her bed and she was lying at the wrong angle. There was a heavy weight across her legs and chest, pinning her to what she belated realized was a carpeted floor.
The smell of blood was overpowering, and her body ached like she’d been in a fight. The area between her legs was tender and sore, and she had a headache that must have come straight from the gates of hell. Where was she and what the hell happened to her last night?
She searched her memory. Images began to flash through her mind like a movie on fast forward. With each scene a feeling off dread grew in the pit of her stomach until Reyna thought it would consume her.
Dear God, what have I done? I have to get out of here.
She cautiously opened her eyes, hoping the vampyr holding her so possessively—she had no doubt it was the same behemoth from last night—was as sound asleep as his heavy breathing indicated. When nothing happened, she eased out of his grasp. She was almost free when he mumbled something, tightened his hold, and shifted closer.
Once more pressed against his rock hard chest, she cursed silently to herself. Like an animal in a trap, she suddenly understood the need to gnaw off a body part just to get loose. Forcing herself to calm down and concentrate, she waited until he settled and his breathing was once more measured and easy before giving it another try.
Not once did she look at her captor. She didn’t know his name, nor would she be able to point him out of a police lineup. Hadn’t, in fact, seen his face at all. Reyna had known all she needed to when she discovered he was a stinking vamp.
The tips of his fingers slid down her back as she slipped away. Rolling to her knees, she took a deep breath to center herself. She had to get this right the first time. What she was
about to do was forbidden but desperate times called for desperate measures. It didn’t help that at any moment she expected the vamp to wake and lunge for her.
No, couldn’t think of that now. She had to focus.
Concentrating intently, she built the image of her bathroom in her mind. Time seemed to dwindle to nanoseconds but still she persevered. When the bathroom was so real to her she could almost smell its floral scent, she gathered her energy and dematerialized.
As soon as the world stopped spinning, Reyna opened her eyes. She was home. It was the longest distance she’d ever jumped. Now that she was safe, the first order of business was to get clean. She had to wash the stench of vampyr off her skin, and maybe in the process, out of her mind.
She took a deep shuddery breath and crawled into the shower, too tired to stand. Blanking her mind to the ramifications of the previous night’s actions, she grimly focused on the steps needed to take a shower.
Turn on the spray. Make it as hot as she could handle, then make it hotter. Douse hair with shampoo. Lather. Rinse. Lather again. Scrub body till raw.
All that and she could still smell him on her. Feel his touch. She crumpled into a ball of misery and cried while the rapidly cooling water beat down upon her. After long minutes, she managed to pull herself together. She couldn’t change the past. Now her priority was damage control.
A chill rocked her and she reached up and turned off the shower. Wearily rising to her feet, she wrung out her long hair. She wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body and went to stand before the mirror.
Her café latté complexion was even lighter than normal with an underlying pallor. She leaned her head to the side and studied her neck. The black and blue marks surrounding the multiple teeth pricks were fading to a purplish red. Before the day was over, it would be totally healed. The sooner the better. In the meantime, she would wear something to cover it.