Blood Hunt

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Blood Hunt Page 27

by Butcher, Shannon K.


  With each thrust, he lost a little more sanity, a little more reason. All that mattered was the sound of her increasingly loud sighs and the hard, steady pace of their mating bodies.

  Hope kissed him, taking his breath away with her enthusiasm. Her lips were swollen and wet from his mouth. The growing scent of her arousal made his head spin. She was close. He could feel it in the way her body was winding up, tightening with the impending explosion.

  Logan wanted nothing more than to give her the pleasure of climax and to feel that climax flutter along his cock as he filled her with his seed. Nothing else was important now. Only Hope.

  He would give her anything she needed to see her fulfilled.

  Anything? he heard her voice whisper within his mind. And the image of his mouth working at her throat while his hips worked to drive her higher flashed in his mind’s eye, brilliant and clear and forbidden.

  He opened his mouth to tell her that he couldn’t, but her lips covered his, and her tongue thrust inside to flick across his fangs.

  She wanted it. The idea compelled her, consumed her.

  Hope guided his head to her neck. The slender length arched, giving him unhindered access. Beneath her delicate skin, her pulse pounded hard and fast. Steady and strong.

  She wasn’t too weak. He would have sensed it if she had been. He didn’t understand how that was possible considering how much he’d fed from her, but it was true all the same.

  “Do it,” she whispered, breathless with anticipation. “Bite me. Just a little.”

  There was no little about this. If he bit her, he’d lose control. He knew he would. He was nearly already at his limit just thinking about it.

  Her grip was strong. It forced his mouth against her skin. He couldn’t help but kiss her. She was so smooth and soft. She tasted so good.

  His fangs ached. His tongue felt swollen. There wasn’t enough oxygen to fill his lungs as his body thrust, keeping up the pace she liked best—one that had him fighting to stave off his own release for as long as possible. With each deep plunge, she quivered around him as if her body were trying to hold him inside.

  “Please,” she said. “I want to feel it all. Just once.”

  He could deny her nothing. Even if it was forbidden. Even if he knew he might never recover from the stain on his conscience.

  His fangs grazed her skin. She let out a soft gasp and shivered.

  He promised himself he’d be careful. He wouldn’t bite deep. Just enough to fulfill her fantasy.

  Logan took charge of her body, holding her tight so she couldn’t thwart his plans to stay in control. Her sudden bursts of strength were unpredictable, and one of those could put all of them in danger.

  It took only one spilled drop of blood to bring an entire nest of Synestryn down on them.

  But he wouldn’t spill any. He’d swallow it all down, staying sealed to her throat until every trace of scent was licked clean.

  Her hips bucked as she struggled to make him hurry. Her impatience shimmered in the air, but he wasn’t going to let it alter his course.

  Logan thrust deep, pinning her in place with his weight and his cock. He felt an answering quiver inside her and a hot rush of wetness as she neared climax.

  She was close. One little nip would send her over the edge.

  He stroked his fangs across her neck, sealed his lips against her skin, and bit down gently.

  The taste of her blood hit his tongue and filled his senses. His mind was connected to hers, and because of that, he felt her searing spike of pleasure caused by his bite.

  Logan had been foolish to think he could control himself in this. It was too much sensation to control. Too much desire. Too much pleasure.

  He bit deeper, needing to increase the flow of blood. A trickle would never do. He needed more. As much as he could get.

  Her body shuddered as an orgasm swept through her. It shook her to her core and milked his erection as if trying to hurry his release. A feminine cry of completion echoed inside the barn’s high walls. Heat poured from her until he was sure he’d see steam rise from her body if he opened his eyes.

  He didn’t. He was too busy drinking her in, letting the strength of her climax fill him as it raced through her blood. There was power in this moment, more than he’d ever thought possible. It was like drinking from one of the Athanasians, pure and perfect and laced with a reverent sort of magic.

  His cock throbbed inside her, demanding to be heard. Until now, he’d stayed still, pinning her in place. But that was no longer possible. He needed to move.

  Logan stroked in and out, using some of his newfound power to speed his movements. Hope’s climax had just eased, but he felt another building, her need swelling as the tempo of his thrusts and feeding sped.

  Her hands had held his head in place, but they now slipped away as her arms went limp. Weakness filled her, but he wasn’t done with her yet. He was going to wring one more searing burst of pleasure from her. Now.

  He drank deep, tugging on her throat as he fed. Each tug coincided with the movement of his hips until she was careening over the edge again, screaming out her orgasm.

  Logan lost control and let the climax have him. It crashed against him, choking the air from his body. His seed spurted deep, wringing another soft cry from Hope.

  Her pulse slowed, became weaker.

  As the last shivering wave of his orgasm passed, he realized just what he’d done. He’d nearly drained her dry.

  Panic ricocheted in his chest. He healed the puncture wounds closed and cleaned away every drop of blood before he dared lift his mouth. He felt her mind touch his, offering him reassurance, but guilt weighed down on him.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said as he lifted his head to look into her pale face.

  She gave him a sleepy smile. “Don’t be. It was . . . perfect.”

  She didn’t realize what he’d done. She was probably delirious.

  Logan briefly considered feeding her some of his blood to strengthen her, but the risk of doing so was too great. His seed was inside her. If she drank his blood, she could conceive.

  The idea of a child—his child—growing inside her was bittersweet. He would have loved the idea if he hadn’t known how it would end for the child. All Sanguinar children, even half-breeds, had been cursed with the thirst for blood. Creating more mouths to feed was not just irresponsible, it was unforgivable.

  So he did the only thing he could. He gathered up a burst of power and transferred it back into her, directing it to make new blood. Some fluids and some rest and she’d recover.

  “Mmm,” she sighed. “I like that. Not nearly as much as the other way, but that’s nice, too.”

  He was still joined to her. Still inside her, which made his betrayal seem even worse. “We need to get you inside where it’s warm.”

  “I’m warm here. With you.”

  Logan slid from her body and gathered up her clothes. He didn’t bother with her undergarments, simply pulled her jeans and shirt on to keep her warm while he dressed himself. He loathed every second it took, but if Nicholas knew what he’d just done, the consequences could be unpleasant.

  He eased her limp body up enough to slip the sleeves of the coat over her arms.

  “Will you stop? You’re harshing my buzz.”

  Logan blinked in incomprehension. “You’re delirious.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re just that good, baby.”

  He lifted her into his arms. She snuggled against his shoulder. “The real thing was so much better than my dreams.”

  “You mustn’t speak of it,” he warned her. “No one can know what we’ve done.”

  He could hear the frown in her voice. “Why not?”

  “Promise me, Hope. Promise me you will not tell anyone what I did to you.”

  “I believe I did some of that to you, too.”

  “Please. Promise me.”

  “Fine,” she said, exasperation filling her tone. “I promise.”

  H
e staggered under the weight of that promise for a step, knowing that not only had he violated her, he’d also forced her to help him cover it up.

  “Put me down,” she said.

  “That is not going to happen.”

  “I can walk.”

  “Tomorrow. Perhaps.”

  “You’re treating me like I’m dying. Will you just stop?”

  Logan did. They were halfway across the icy lawn between the barn and the house.

  “Put. Me. Down.”

  He did that, too, though he kept a careful hold on her arm in case she fainted.

  Hope got right into his face, her eyes blazing. “Look. We just had the most fantastic sex in history and you’re acting like we murdered a litter of kittens. We did nothing wrong.”

  “Yes, we did. You’re meant for another man.”

  “No, I’m not. I get that you have some really antiquated ideas, but that doesn’t mean I’m playing along with them. I’m not going to hook up with some guy—not until you and I have had time to see if what we have together works.”

  Logan closed his eyes to block out the sight of her beautiful face. She was confused. Weak. He’d caused those things by taking too much blood. No matter how much pleasure it had given her, he knew better. That was why his kind never mixed sex and blood. It was too easy to lose control.

  Another minute or two and he could have killed her.

  “What we have is duty. That is all I can allow myself.”

  “Fuck duty. You’ve been toting that burden around for too long. Let someone else have a turn.”

  “That’s not the way it works. All must help if we are to survive.”

  “Then let me help you.”

  He looked down at her, unable to keep his eyes averted any longer. The sight of her was precious, a treasure to be cherished for as long as it lasted. “I hope you will help us. But not like this. Not with me.”

  “Then how?”

  He owed her the truth. “Eric is like you. His blood is rich and powerful. My hope is that the two of you will be happy together and have many children.”

  “Children?”

  He nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. “We need the blood.”

  She stepped away from him. “You’re telling me that you want me to sleep with this Eric guy and let him knock me up? You’re telling me this while your semen is still inside me? That you want me to sleep with another man?”

  “Yes.” He took a step toward her.

  She held up her hands to ward him off. “You are out of your fucking mind. I’m not going to be some baby factory so that you and your buddies have a nice, hot meal whenever you want one.”

  “It’s not like that. We’re very careful in our efforts.”

  “Careful? Is that what you tell the women you’ve done this to? Sorry, Mom, we’re going to snack on your babies, but we’ll be careful.”

  “It’s not like that and you know it.”

  “What I know is that I offered you my blood. Repeatedly. That’s not enough for you?”

  “I wish it were.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “This is too messed up. I can’t believe anyone could be so cold as to manipulate the lives of innocents for their blood.”

  “We have no choice. We’re starving.”

  “Ever thought about asking people first, rather than trying to trick them into it the way you did with me?”

  “We only mate those people who will be happy together.”

  “Yeah, do you go into their minds and brainwash them to make it happen? Are they just drooling fuckpuppets meant to squeeze out kids once a year?”

  “Stop it, Hope. You’re twisting it into something it’s not. We go to great pains to make sure our subjects are happy.”

  “Subjects? Is that what I am to you? Some kind of lab rat?”

  Anger was gathering inside him, threatening a storm. “I wish you were. I never would have been drawn to you, never would have lain with you.”

  She let out a scoffing bite of laughter. “You’re even colder than I thought. Here I was, all moon-eyed, thinking I was falling in love with you. I had no idea of the man you really were.”

  “That’s because I’m not a man. You’d do well to remember that.”

  “That’s it. I’m out of here.” She stormed off, but her anger supported her only so far. Her knees gave out and she started to crumple to the ground.

  Logan caught her and pulled her against his body, hating the immediate reaction she caused. He’d had her only moments ago and yet he was already aching to slide inside her again. He could smell the scent of their bodies mingling, becoming something darker and more intoxicating. The muskiness of his seed was deep within her, and any Sanguinar or Slayer who met her would know in an instant that she was his.

  Not that she wanted to have anything to do with him. The way she was twisting the truth about made it seem ugly and sinister. Project Lullaby was nothing like that. It was necessary.

  He needed her to see that. To know it. She didn’t understand the kind of suffering they endured, because if she had, she wouldn’t have been so quick to judge him. They didn’t kill people. They worked themselves sick ensuring that their subjects were happy and healthy.

  The scales were even. And soon, she would know it, too.

  Chapter 24

  Logan’s hold on Hope tightened and he pressed his hand to her temple. She could feel his anger vibrating through his body, but that was just too bad. She didn’t have time for him or any of his tricks.

  She tried to pull away but his grip was too tight. She willed one of those surges of adrenaline-induced strength to fill her, but nothing came. A second later, all thoughts of struggling evaporated.

  A strong, solid presence filled her, and she recognized it easily. Logan.

  Normally, she felt a gentleness surround him, but not now. His presence was draped with purpose, like a man on a mission.

  “Feel,” he ordered.

  And she did. She was swept up in a wave of memories and sensations unlike anything she’d ever felt before. There was hunger. Mountains of it. So much that it ate away at her sanity, making her cry out in agony. Her belly churned and nothing could fill it but ancient, powerful blood.

  But there was none to be had. A hopeless desperation descended on her, driving strength from her limbs and the will to live from her soul. She was so hungry and yet there was no more food. There would never again be more food. She was going to die here, now, and it couldn’t come soon enough.

  Hope pleaded for death to take her, to end the relentless gnawing in her guts and the weakness that robbed her of the ability to do more than sit and stare, helpless and useless, while people around her died.

  She couldn’t go on like this. What was the point of living if all that life had to offer was hunger and weakness and death?

  And then she felt it, a faint stirring of hope, a dim light gleaming on the horizon of her suffering.

  Blood. Rich, powerful blood. She could make it, grow it. It would take time. Centuries, perhaps, but for the first time in memory, there was a chance.

  Hope reached for that chance, grabbing onto it with both hands. It slipped through her fingers, intangible and insubstantial. It flitted in her vision, teasing her as it darted around, never fully in sight.

  But she could have it. She could have that blood. All she had to do was one little thing: Create families.

  It didn’t sound so bad. Surely, she could find people who would love each other, people who belonged together, who would be happy together. The search would be hard, but the reward would be survival. She would hold each new life in her arms and cherish it for the blessing it was. It would never go hungry. It would never die of disease or sickness. She would be there, right by its side, seeing to its needs.

  She had plenty of money, so that was no issue. None of her children would live in poverty or squalor. She’d see to it that they got a good education and made a place for themselves in the world so that when the time came,
they, too, could help create a new and precious life.

  And while she knew she’d have to take their blood to survive, she’d be careful about it. She’d screen them for disease and heal any injuries she found. She’d imbue them with long lives so their cells would not age and die as a normal human’s would. She’d do everything in her power to see them happy.

  All she needed in return was the power to help them—the power only their blood could give her. It didn’t seem too high a price to ask. After all, if she didn’t do this, the dark things in the night would find them and eat them. If she wasn’t strong, she couldn’t keep them safe, and she desperately wanted to keep them safe.

  As the idea sank in, she turned it around, looking at it from all sides. It didn’t seem nearly so terrible as it had before. The faces of dozens of people filled her head—all of them had been touched by the Sanguinar. They’d been paired up; they’d been fed on. None of them seemed to show any signs of abuse or neglect. They were . . . happy with the arrangement.

  Who was she to say they weren’t?

  Hope felt Logan’s presence release her, and with a little pang of regret, she let him go. The images he’d shown her were still a part of her, as was the memory of that hunger. If he’d endured that kind of torture, it was no wonder he’d been desperate to find any means necessary to escape it.

  But what if all that mental hocus pocus was just a lie? What if he’d planted it to sway her opinion? “I want to talk to them,” she said.

  “Talk to whom?”

  “The people you’ve manipulated.”

  He flinched at her wording, but she didn’t back down. She couldn’t. If she let up even a little, she knew he’d find a way to break through her defenses.

  “The couple who was attacked the night we met. They were paired by me. Will that suffice?”

  She nodded, remembering how concerned the man had been for his wife. She’d had no idea they were some of Logan’s “subjects.”

 

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