With the tip of my fangs, I pierced the corner of the blood bag. My mouth filled with the coppery contents. It was nothing compared to fresh, but it didn’t make me gag. I never thought I’d choose to drink the gift Ashley had provided from her deal with the blood bank, but these were desperate times.
After my shower, I dressed. There was one last thing I had to do before I could go. I called Charles. His phone rang, and rang, until it went to the message machine. I hung up. Where was he?
I looked to the edge of the curtain, and saw no light. It was time, and I couldn’t stand the wait, so I ran to her.
The city passed in a blur, streaks of color and light the only representation of physical objects. Once, it had been hard to navigate at this speed, though thrilling. After one hundred eighty-five years, speed, like everything else, had become mundane.
The only exception was her. I stared at the door marked 1803. Memories of her smile, of sunlight glistening on her wet skin, of the sweet taste of her, flooded my brain. It had all seemed so right. It had been only a dream.
I knocked, and a moment later she answered.
The door cracked open, then shut long enough for Violet to undo the chain. When she opened the door all the way, I couldn’t help but stare.
It wasn’t sunlight that shined on her red hair, but artificial light. There wasn’t enduring love in her eyes, but happiness in the little wrinkles that formed as she smiled. The one thing that remained the same from dream to reality, was how stunning Violet truly was.
I’d expected her to wear what she always did—t-shirt, jeans, and a jacket. That was not what I found. Her white shirt was cut lower than those I’d seen her wear before, revealing the curve of her round breasts. Her legs were bare, exposing strong, thick thighs, and smooth, fair skin. My cock stirred, and I willed myself to look only at her gorgeous smile.
“Hey,” she said. “Come in.”
I did as she asked.
Beside the bed was a cart, on top of that cart, a covered metal tray.
“I got you something,” Violet said, as she laced her fingers in mine. The feel of her was pleasant warmth, sunshine itself. She pulled me toward the bed and sat down. She patted the edge of the mattress by her side.
“Sit, sit,” she said.
I sat down beside her.
Violet pulled the cart in front of me, and lifted the tray lid.
“I hope you like chocolate,” she said.
I stared at the tiny cake, a smooth, round cylinder, decorated in tiny chocolate flowers. A single candle stood on top. Violet lit the blue wax with a lighter, and turned to me. She was expecting something. A reaction.
“Happy birthday,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said. “It’s not something I’ve celebrated in a long time.” How long, I didn’t even know. It wasn’t something I’d shared with my progeny, my blood brother, or even my sire. Birthdays had seemed a luxury of the living, until now. She made it important. And that meant the world to me.
“Make a wish.”
I watched a tiny bead of blue wax drip down the side of the candle. And I blew it out, making the only wish that I could think of. I wished for her.
“You can eat cake, right?” Violet asked.
“I can eat,” I replied.
“Good,” she said.
I left out the part that human food was devoid of taste to my palate. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. I didn’t want to steal her smile.
Violet handed me a fork, and I poked the pastry. It was soft, and melted to gentle pressure.
Violet did the same, and slipped a forkful between her full, pink lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back.
“Mmmm,” she said.
Her neck was exposed, and my gaze followed downward to the tops of her full breasts. My cock pressed hard against my fly.
“It’s so good,” she said. “I asked around to find out where they made the best cakes. Everyone said it was Giovanni’s down on Second. Damn were they right.”
“That good?” I asked.
“Try it.”
I scooped a forkful and put it in my mouth. It was soft and airy, with a flavor similar to potting soil. I tried to smile as I swallowed it down.
“That bad, huh?” she asked. Then she giggled, a wonderful sound.
“It’s—”
“Don’t lie,” she said. “You hate it. It’s all over your face. You don’t eat cake, do you?” Amusement filled her eyes, and her genuine smile. At least she wasn’t offended.
“Not usually,” I said.
“I should have ordered blood pudding,” she said.
“That wouldn’t have helped,” I said. “At least one of us can enjoy this.”
“You think I’m going to eat that whole thing myself?” Her brows shot up.
“You should eat however much you like,” I said. “And I do appreciate the gesture. More than I can express.”
Violet took another bite of cake. I watched the way her jaw moved, the way her blue eyes shined as she experienced pleasure. It was enough to see her like this, a gift in itself.
Chapter Twenty
Violet
He was so close I could touch him, and I wanted to.
Walter's back was straight, but his shoulders were at ease as he sat on the edge of the bed. With his coat off, I could see more of the definition of his arms, the width of his broad shoulders. I’d felt his strength when he’d carried me, but it was different seeing the shape of him without his coat.
I liked how formally he always dressed. It was as if every night was a special occasion. It suited his personality, and the way he talked. I wondered what he looked like beneath that charcoal shirt. Did he have scars from fighting like I did? I wanted to learn each and every one.
It felt so much more intimate sitting together like this than it had when we’d been in the crate. It had been easier to bare my soul in the dark. Could I do the same in the light? I wanted to.
“So, birthday boy,” I said, “tell me what it’s like to live for two hundred years? You must have seen so many amazing things.”
“I have experienced little compared to some,” he said. “In the length of a thousand lifetimes, one can still only see so far in the dark,” he said.
“You miss sunlight?” I asked. “I always thought the most interesting things happened at night.”
“Is that part of why you hunt?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I said. “I like adventure.”
“Is that what this is?”
His dark eyes flickered crimson, and he brushed my hand with his fingertips. His touch ignited my skin, an effect that quickly changed the feel of everything. The room was warmer, the air heavier.
Was that all? Was my draw to him only about the rush of excitement? Is that why I’d chosen the skirt tonight—the one I’d dreamed of wearing?
“It’s possible,” I said. “I’m not sure.” I slid closer, so my leg touched his. “But I’d like to find out.”
I put his hand on my thigh, and watched the swirl of red in his eyes turn to a fiery blaze. His fangs descended, and I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him like that. Fangs had never turned me on before, but Walter’s did. Everything about him excited me.
“Violet,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.
I smiled, and slid his hand up a little more, just under the hem of my skirt.
“It has been a long time,” Walter said. His accent was more noticeable when he got excited. I liked that.
Someone like him could make a woman want him if he chose, glamour her or win her over with a glimpse of who he was—handsome and powerful. There was no doubt in my mind that women would want him. I wanted him.
“Why?” I asked.
He squeezed my thigh, and I could hardly stand the wait. My body ached for him.
His mouth took mine, and I blinked in surprise. He lips were soft, yet insistent. I opened for him, and explored his fangs with my tongue. They were long, smooth, and ouch—sharp. A
tiny taste of copper mixed with the mint of his mouth. I pulled my tongue back, and he pushed his inside. As fast as he moved when he ran across the city, faster than I could track with my eyes, Walter flipped me down onto my back, and held his body over mine, supporting his weight with strong arms. It was as hot as it was disarming. Everything about this intimidated me as much as it excited me.
He pulled back and looked me over, devouring me with those fiery eyes.
“You taste sweet,” he said. “Better than I’d imagined.”
“You’ve been thinking about me,” I said.
“Yes.”
I reached up and undid the buttons on his shirt. The fabric was soft, but what I wanted was beneath. Each inch opened revealed more scars—scars and muscles. I touched a long, pink line that crossed his pecs. The skin felt the same as the rest—cool and firm. That meant the scar wasn’t new. He had seen many things in his life, many of which had left marks. He was so much like me, but he’d lived so much longer.
His eyes closed as I touched him, and I savored the thought—I had power over this powerful man.
I reached a little lower and unzipped his pants. His eyes flicked open once again, fierce and full of fire.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, “and I’ll stop.” His voice as full of restraint, and maybe his actions were, too.
“Don’t stop.”
Again he flipped me, this time upright, and onto his lap. My thighs straddled his, and I could feel his cock pressing up against me.
I lifted my blouse over my head, and Walter pulled me close. His chest was hard, as hard as his cock. This was unlike being with any man I’d ever been with. He didn’t perspire, and the only heat between us came from me.
He reached behind me and grabbed hold of my ass, and lifted. The length of his cock teased tender flesh through thin, satin fabric. I was wet. I was ready. I didn’t want just a taste. I wanted him.
I pulled my panties to the side and eased his tip into my opening. It was big, and the hottest part of him.
He pulled my breast free of my bra, and flicked his tongue over my nipple. I watched his fangs, nervous that they would cut. They didn’t. His tongue rolled over the gentle nub, and I sank lower, taking him in. I moaned with delight as I took more, and accepted his length. Each inch stretched me, and I came back up before taking more. He slid his thumb to my clit, and I knew I wouldn’t last long.
“Walter,” I cried, as tendrils of pleasure coiled inside.
Pressure built, and he met my eyes, shoved his tongue between my lips. It was so good.
I pulled back from his kiss, took his cock down to his base, faster, faster. The headboard slammed into the wall, banging. His eyes were fire, red as blood. His fangs peeked over his bottom lip. I had to know. What was it like?
“Bite me.”
As soon as I said it, I wondered if I should have. Vampire hunter begging to be bitten—it seemed wrong.
He grabbed my hips and moved me faster than I could move myself, and just as I thought I was going to tip over the edge, his fangs pierced my neck.
His bite was sharp, and warm, and a release. My muscles tightened, and I closed my eyes as waves of pleasure washed over me. His body tensed, and a deep, feral sound escaped him as he climaxed with me. I relaxed and let go. In that moment, I was his. All that there was in this world was Walter.
Chapter Twenty-One
Violet
Sex was always different with different guys, not that there had been that many—only three before tonight. They were spur of the moment impulses that had mostly led to disappointment. I’d been with one guy who thought that so long as he got off, our time together had been a success. There was another who was so concerned that I wouldn’t like what he did that it made me start to not like what he did. The best I’d had was the third. But none compared to Walter. And none had left me feeling like this.
I stared up at the ceiling, basking in the afterglow, too tired to move just yet. My thighs were numb in the best way possible, my strength drained. The longer we lay there in silence, the more nervous I became. I’d thought it would just be fun, but I felt different after, like it had meant more than that. What happened next?
Walter leaned on one elbow and stuck the tip of his finger between his lips. It was a slow and sensual motion, hot as hell. If he was suggesting that he was ready for another round, he’d have to accept that I was still out of commission.
I was going to tell him so, when he pulled his finger out, the tip red with blood. He’d cut himself.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He rubbed his finger over my neck, and smiled. “Better than okay.”
I touched the skin on my neck, where the fang marks were supposed to be, but there was nothing. “How did you—”
“It heals faster when I help,” he said, and showed me his finger once again. The cut from his fang was gone, just like the one on my neck.
“So your powers can be used for good,” I said. “Healing wounds.”
“I suppose.”
“Is that why you don’t kill humans, just bad vampires?” I asked. “Vampire hero for justice?”
His smile faded, and I immediately regretted what I had said. I’d meant it as a joke, though at the heart of it, I really did want to know what made him tick. I wanted to know everything about him there was to learn.
“I have killed,” he said.
All the of the red faded from his eyes, replaced by something, sadness maybe. Maybe it was a just a door he was shutting, a wall to place between us. Either way, it was my loss.
A ringing cut through the silence. Once. Twice.
Walter sat up, and found his phone in his discarded pants on the floor. Just like that it was over. The connection, or whatever it was that we’d had, was hidden again beneath this armor that he put up to protect himself. From me.
I could see it in his body language. He was stiff, and kept his back turned.
“Bennet,” he said. “What is it.”
I couldn’t hear the voice on the other side. Was Bennet another vampire? It seemed likely. Maybe he, too, was connected to the queen.
“Keep her calm,” Walter said. “This is no time for rash action. That’s what they want.”
Again he paused.
“Call Charles,” he said.
I traded my skirt for pair of jeans, and found my shirt on the floor.
“I understand,” Walter said. “I’ll be right there.”
Then he turned to me. I knew what he was planning, just by the look on his face.
“Where are we headed?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” he said. “I must do this alone.”
Before I could protest, before I could say another word, he was gone. I was sorry, too.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Walter
Beneath the gaze of countless stars, the Ulfhednar Estate looked exactly as it always had—majestic, timeless. There were no motorized vehicles sprawled across the lawn, no crowd gathered. It was as it was meant to be, but for the woman inside, and the other on the step.
Her hair was bleach-blond, her eyes heavy with makeup. Her skin was paper-white, in stark contrast with her black boots and dress. The resemblance was striking, more so than the girl from the university. This woman could have passed for Ashley King.
Bite marks covered her skin, fangs from at least ten different vampires. They’d bled her dry. It was a statement, a proclamation of united defiance, a threat of danger to come.
Even as I stood there, in the face of this escalation, my mind wandered back to my progeny, and back to Violet. Charles should have been here for this. He should have answered his phone. Something was wrong, and I only hoped it had nothing to do with Evans.
“Tell me surveillance caught something,” I said.
I turned to Bennet. My blood brother appeared more casual than usual. He wore jeans and t-shirt instead of his typical slacks and collared shirt. The wolf was changing him, something I only recently h
ad begun to understand.
“The cameras should have, but I haven’t reviewed the footage yet,” he said. “The guards said they saw an unmarked white van.”
He swiped his hand over his dark, cropped hair, then he pointed to the second body, six meters from the door, and charred beyond recognition.
“That one tried to approach. The van pulled up, dumped the girl.”
“And what exactly did that to him?” I asked. My best guess was flamethrower, though the ground around his crusted husk remained unsinged.
“Apparently, a bullet,” Bennet said.
“A bullet did that?” I asked. Either it was bad information, or there was something new out there, a weapon far worse than anything I’d ever seen. The prospect was both intriguing and concerning.
“It appears so,” he replied.
We looked down at the hole in the center of the dead vampire’s chest, a direct hit to the heart.
Maybe Violet would be familiar with the technology. She’d traveled more in recent years than I, and had acquired those special contacts she wore, which I had also never seen before. Thoughts of her saddened me, reminded me of how I’d left after she’d let me in. But it wasn’t safe for her here, and more than ever I needed her to be safe. There was no doubt, after two hundred years of waiting, I’d found my amor aeternus. Until Violet, I hadn’t thought that I needed one at all.
An electric sound thudded and thumped, a motor growing closer, louder. Bennet and I turned toward the gate, just in time to see Charles drive through and park. My progeny climbed out and waved, then approached.
Frustration fought with relief. I was glad to see him unharmed, if only long enough for me to kill him.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“Around,” he said. “Doing the usual stuff—watching for trouble and all of that. How about you? How’s it going? You look good, boss man.”
“I phoned,” I said, and raised a brow. “You were not following Petzly, your charge.”
Hunted: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Vampires of Scarlet Harbor Book 2) Page 9