A Forever Mate: Vampire Assassin League #18

by Jackie Ivie

  CHAPTER SIX

  Opening the door wasn’t stupid. It was full-fledged insanity.

  At least with a barrier between them, she hadn’t been assaulted by the immense power of his presence. Or whatever he wielded. Goosebumps lifted all along her arms and belly, while her breath came in little spurts as if somebody had a corset-thing clamped too tightly on her ribcage. And she’d known he was heavy-weight wrestler big, but at this distance he really looked immense! He had one arm propped across the top of the doorjamb. The other hand held a sword that was almost her height, and he was bending his head forward and down in order to peer at her from beneath his forearm.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Her knees wobbled. Good thing she had a hand on a cool marble countertop. He had a voice to match his killer looks. And a slightly foreign enunciation that made her heart skip a beat. This sort of reaction was entirely alien. Somebody else should be standing here, receiving Sebastian Cole’s full attention. Maybe one of the willowy girls from the art group. That might be an acceptable occurrence. Maybe a supermodel. Or maybe even an actress with movie-star looks. Not her. Jill Jones was full nerd. She wasn’t a sex siren. She didn’t have a to-die-for figure. She didn’t wear make-up or fuss with her hair. Heck. She rarely remembered to pluck her eyebrows. She sure wasn’t used to receiving this much male attention. And never from this much male. Most of her coherent thought process went right out her ears as he just stood there, gazing down at her, with fathomless dark eyes.

  “Um. What... do you want?” Crap. Her voice trembled.

  “To talk.”

  “That’s all?”

  “I told you. Nothing more... unless you wish it.”

  Oh shit.

  Why did he have to add that? Something was seriously wrong with her. Her throat closed off with what felt like a golf-ball sized obstruction. That made swallowing difficult, and worse. All-of-a-sudden, she needed to swallow. A lot. And something about his expression looked like he was very aware of those facts.

  “May I enter?” he asked.

  Jill swallowed again. It was more of a gulp. He was giving the decision to her? Balls. Again. She didn’t know how, but it felt like in the silence they were communicating. Something indefinable seemed to emanate from him, coming in waves that matched her pulse beats.

  “Yes,” she finally answered.

  He stepped in with a grace that defied his size, and stood upright. Somehow he made the aura of space about them, including the twenty foot ceilings, seem normal-sized. She’d already discovered the palatial dimensions of this bathroom. Actually, she needed to correct that. It wasn’t a bathroom. It was a suite of rooms masquerading as a bathroom. Multi-level marble countertops rimmed the area. Some too high for anything except storage or display, some low enough to sit on. Polished chrome seemed to gleam from the edge of every surface, while etched glass took the place of walls. There were even separate compartments for the sinks, the loo and bidet, a shower stall that fit at least four, and an enormous sunken tub somewhere in the back corner area.

  And Sebastian Cole made it all look small.

  Jill looked up at him. She shut her blurred eye so she could see him in almost-clarity. That’s what happened when she put the stronger prescription contact in this eye. Things were just a little off-kilter. Slightly blurred from having too much power in the lens. And even that didn’t hamper the view.

  Wow.

  This was the best dream she’d ever had. Things like this just did not happen to her. She couldn’t even find a descriptor for the mass of man facing her. He was immensely muscled. Perfectly chiseled. He was handsome enough to stop traffic. And he was here with her? In the sculpted flesh?

  Unbelievable.

  In hindsight, maybe she should have joined the other girls when they’d first arrived in Paris. They’d internet searched all night for ‘man-candy’ sites that looked more like erotic sites featuring male nudes. She’d found her bunk, stuck plugs in her ears, and ignored them. She’d felt the same measure of disgust when they’d made a beeline to the hermaphrodite statue in order to see a rendering of a reclining nude with a breasts and a penis. They hadn’t been the only gawkers. Jill had taken a look and moved on. She’d been slightly sickened at the comments and giggles. In hindsight, however, if she had joined in on their searches, she might have some comparison for what she was facing right now.

  Sebastian stood there watching her, a slight quirk to his lips as if he knew her exact trail of thought. He didn’t even appear to be breathing. If he was, it was shallowly. He was just there. Waiting. She swallowed again.

  “You’re very big,” she commented.

  “True.”

  “You’re also very cut. Ripped.”

  “Uh...”

  “And you are really handsome.”

  Two dark-toned spots appeared on his cheekbones. They couldn’t be a flush, could they? Men blushed?

  “You are very direct,” he replied.

  That was funny. He said it as if everyone she met hadn’t already informed her of that fact, and yet, she was still unaware.

  “Well. You are the one who wanted in here to talk. Yes?”

  He sucked in on both cheeks, narrowing his face. The look he gave her started her body quaking. Jill had never experienced that, either. Was there really such a thing as instant lust? And if so, was this what it felt like? Or maybe this was the love-at-first-sight stuff that so many poets wrote about. Was such a thing possible?

  “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she asked.

  His eyebrows rose. He looked down as if verifying, and then swung the sword to plant it before him at his waist level, with both hands splayed atop the hilt. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was blushing even more.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “I... um... was working. I never wear attire when I have an assignment. Clothing might encumber me.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Things could get messy.”

  “Okay. That is an interesting answer. Are you a male revue guy?”

  “A what?”

  “A stripper. You know... an exotic dancer.”

  His eyes narrowed to slits. That look was ominous. And a tad exciting. Her nipples even hardened to an itching reminder of their presence against her bra.

  “Are you trying to insult me?” he asked.

  Jill shook her head. Swallowed again. Damn throat.

  “Uh, not really. I am simply trying to find out who you are and why we’re here. That’s the normal sequence of events when talking with someone. I think. So. I’m going to guess by your reaction that you are not a male stripper. Which means... you could be a high-class gigolo, but I can’t imagine how that would be so messy you can’t wear clothing on your upper body. Then again, I know next to nothing about high-class society. I think I’ll just rule that out. If you were doing that, you probably wouldn’t have been running about the catacombs. Yes? Oh. Don’t answer. I’ll just figure it out myself. Perhaps you’re a fighter of some kind. No. That can’t be. There’s not a mark on you. Then again, you could be a fighter, and a damn good one. Looks like your opponent didn’t get in one blow.”

  “I told you. My name is Sebastian Cole. And I am here because we are mates.”

  “Oh. Right. You did say that. Let’s start with the name, okay? Why don’t you look or sound English?’

  “What?”

  “Cole is a distinctly English surname. Yet, here you are. Not remotely English. Don’t bother asking how I know. You speak at least three languages and you don’t have a hint of British accent. In fact, you have a really sexy, foreign voice. I don’t have enough experience with Europeans, though. I can’t place it. One thing I do know, however. It isn’t English.”

  Damn it. There went the direct delivery again. The flush moved over his shoulders and into his pecs, staining his tan to a nice rosy hue. Wow. Looked like he went shirtless fairly often... for whatever reason. She wasn’
t complaining. She actually wanted to applaud. He’d be an absolute joy to sculpt. Plus, her remark had pulled him out of his predatory-looking pose, too. Double bonus.

  “I chose Cole as a surname... in... the eighteenth century, I believe. I was known as Der Machtige, but that raised many brows as the decades passed.”

  “Right. What does that mean, please? The Der part.”

  “The Mighty.”

  “You were Sebastian, The Mighty?”

  “See. It raises your brows, too. So... I chose Cole. Short. Easy. And I’d just passed a coal mine. When I was asked, I supplied the name Cole. It was necessary. For inheritance purposes.”

  “Oh. Right. Like that makes sense.”

  “You’ve never heard of an inheritance?”

  “Of course I have. I received quite a healthy one when my parents disappeared under the collapsed roof in the food court one afternoon. One moment we’re eating hamburgers... and the next, a mass of gray-shaded rubble is in their place while somebody won’t quit screaming. It took some time before I realized the screamer was me. You speak of an inheritance? Well. Let me tell you. I had a really nice one, until my guardians supposedly used it to have me evaluated and diagnosed, as if I didn’t already know I have social and emotional issues. That’s what happens when you are home-schooled and then released into the public school system after your parents die. By-the-way, thank you so much for reminding me of all that. Really. Thanks.”

  He didn’t answer. He just looked down at her as if pondering what she said and finding it lacked verisimilitude. Figures. She clicked her tongue, shook her head, and looked down at his entwined hands atop the sword.

  She felt a tear run down her cheek and swiped at it. “Oh, Jill. Jill. What are you doing? This is ancient history. And bad timing. I mean look at this guy. This is severely bad timing.”

  “You are talking to yourself again.”

  Jill looked back up at him. “Oh, yeah? Well. I always do. That’s what happens when your mother was a professor of library science, and your father was a mathematical physics genius. I talk to myself because nobody else understands me.”

  “They don’t?”

  “Of course not. And it’s not an issue. Nobody’s ever there, anyway.”

  He moved a fraction of an inch, his eyes soft. Almost concerned. “I’m here.”

  Jill choked. It was more a snorting sound. “True. But you are a figment of my imagination, so you don’t count.”

  He pulled in a deep breath and held it. The heavy sigh that followed lifted some of her bangs with the force of it. And what was really strange, she seemed to have made the same sigh. Without conscious thought or need. She’d matched him physically? It wasn’t likely. Was it even possible?

  “Do I not look real? Surely I sound it?”

  “Actually, you sound borderline psychotic. But you do look pretty substantial. You’re probably very heavy. No wonder you didn’t have any trouble carrying my weight. What do you tip the scales at, anyway? Two-fifty?”

  This time he didn’t sigh. It sounded more like a grunt from deep in his throat. “This is not working.”

  “No lie.”

  “Jill. Please listen to me. I am not imaginary. I am very real. And you keep missing the rest of my words. I am here because I am your mate.”

  “Oh. I heard that part. I’m just avoiding it. I mean... um. This word you toss around. Mating. That puts a negative, animalistic-sounding connotation to something that should be incredibly beautiful, very personal, and extremely intimate. I mean, if that’s your pick-up line, you probably need to work on it.”

  He stepped closer still, while his hands tightened on the sword hilt. His knuckles whitened, and cords stood out in both arms. Wow. The guy was more than ripped. He was body-builder perfection. He also had an intensity that seemed to heighten the temperature. She was trembling. She should probably feel terrified. She didn’t. She felt like every cell was getting an electrical charge.

  “Mating isn’t something negotiable. It isn’t something you can fight. I’m finding it difficult to keep from you, despite any dislike of the situation.”

  “Am I coming across... that I dislike you?”

  “Not after you spoke of sculpting me. Naked.”

  “Oh! Oh. I cry foul. You’re using eavesdropping against me? That is a complete and total cheat.”

  “Sebastian Cole never cheats.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you call it, then?”

  It was her move stepping closer this time. He was exuding something that felt like flypaper must to a fly. Flame to a moth. Something forceful. Passionate. Magnetic. He was also tensing throughout his frame, causing every nuance of his muscularity to get defined, begging a touch. A caress. She barely caught the move to do exactly that.

  “You speak aloud. I listened. That is not cheating.”

  “Well, it’s completely unfair. Nobody should have their fantasies stuck out in the bright light and examined. Even me. With those frickin’ doctors. Oh, this is bad, Jill. Really bad.”

  “Why is it bad? I know you wish to see me naked. It’s completely right. And true.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was told that mating is an amazing experience. It restarts everything. Breathing. The heart beating. The senses. The passions.”

  “Oh, you were told that, were you? By whom? An astrologer?”

  “You disparage me?”

  “That’s a big word,” she replied. “Do you know what it means?”

  “And you malign me?”

  “Another... big word. Wow.”

  Her voice was breathless, and at a much lower tone than she intended. Good heavens. She was actually able to verbalize sexual turn-on?

  “I cannot believe this! I did not ask for a mate! I did not want one. I did not need one. I did not pine for one. You don’t understand.”

  “Wow. That’s... everything a girl wants to hear. You didn’t want it? Then why the hell are you here?”

  “Because I am your mate.”

  Holy shit. The guy had a voice that could curl steel I-beams. Lights exploded, sending the entire bathroom suite into a sparsely lit shadow-land. Glass walls rumbled and cracked. She knew that’s what the noise meant because she watched a fissure in the glass divider beside Sebastian. The crack followed the lily design some artisan had etched into it from upper corner to bottom edge.

  “It is so. I am your mate. And despite everything... I cannot stop wanting you!”

  He moved his sword hand. Jill’s eyes dropped to what he was showing her. Her mouth followed suit. She’d never seen an erect phallus, and his was still hidden behind leather trousers. Sebastian wasn’t just physically immense. He was extremely well-equipped. She had all those egotistical art models to thank for knowing that much. Her gasp was almost drowned out by the thump of beats filling both ears.

  “Oh. Sebastian. Wow.”

  Jill looked up at him, eyes so wide they hurt, and then back to his abdomen area. She didn’t dare look lower. She watched her own hand reach out next, stopping a centimeter from touching. And then she watched it shake.

  “You may not wish to touch me, Jill.”

  “Why... not?”

  “The consequences... are vast.”

  His skin looked like it was rippling over and over with little bumps, almost reaching where her fingertips hovered.

  “So?”

  “I may not be able... to control this.”

  Oh... sweet. That sounded infinitely intriguing. Totally fascinating. And unbelievably exciting. Her heart sounded like it was at a full gallop in her ears, while she watched her hand tremble a fraction of space from the ropes and valleys of his belly.

  “Sebastian?” She whispered it.

  “Be certain,” he replied.

  And she touched him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Two of her fingers reached his abdomen, stunning him. Her touch was a physical force to contend with, an electrical surge that was impossible to defy. His eyes watered as a mu
scle-straining charge slammed through him, arching him backward as he withstood it. Fought it. Shuddered with experiencing it.

  Resistance was futile.

  And he knew it.

  His head went back, his mouth wide, allowing room for his canines to grow until they reached puncturing sharpness. The sword fell, rattling on the tile before it stilled. He slammed a hand to the counter beside him. It cracked. The other hand grabbed for the etched glass bracket on his other side. The wood broke. The glass shattered.

  Merde!

  This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. He’d accepted that he’d physically mate with her, but it wasn’t to have this much power. And little meaning. Isabelle was his heart. Her face was the one he should be seeing. Her breath the air caressing his skin. She had his love. She did. She always would...

  Why did none of that mean a damn thing?

  Jill’s fingertips had become her entire palm, pressing to his belly. Her other hand joined in. She slid along his flesh, shooting glass-like shards through his skin with each increasing moment. No. No! It wasn’t supposed to feel like this! It wasn’t to be this rapturous! This amazing. This—

  Sebastian yelled in reaction, the sound pulled from the depths of his being. More glass broke, shattering into little pieces that made tinkling noises as they hit the floor. Nothing could have prepared him for this. It was beyond anything he’d experienced, in his mortal life, or in the centuries since.

  And he wanted more.

  Much more.

  He gasped for breath and looked down, taking in every detail of his mate’s beauty. She had perfect, translucent skin. A dusting of dark eyelashes. Incredibly deep, amber-shaded eyes. She had them wide. Surprised. Her pupils enlarged as he watched. A strange look overtook her features. As if she were troubled, yet still intrigued. How was this possible? She was truly adorable. His heart hurt him with the force of each thump.

  “You... have fangs,” she told him.

  He smiled. “Yes. I do.”

  He was beyond thinking. On the edge of control. Someone should have warned him of the power of the mating. The physical need. The amazing desire. This was his mate! Decreed by the fates! And joining with her was becoming as necessary as blood. Desire was fueling it. Emotion was the catalyst. Sebastian had his hands about her shoulders before he knew his intent and could rescind the motion. He lifted her. Brought her to his chest and then just held her for long moments, their bodies vibrating to an exchange of energy that sparked into being, and kept growing. Larger. Hotter. More dominant. His entire being experienced a series of lightning-charges far worse than heat. They were infused with passion. And angered, primal need.