Vampire's Thirst (The Awakening Series)

by Cynthia Garner

  He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. Even though his face looked sad, his posture spoke to his intractability. “Sorry. I’d lose too many people trying to get you out of this mess. I’m afraid you’re on your own, my very good friend.”

  As he turned away, she watched him in numb disbelief. Her lover, the father of her baby, was going to let her die, and the members of his vampire enclave weren’t going to defy him. She was merely human, after all.

  “I’m pregnant!” she screamed, her voice shrill and brittle. Her belly tightened. Her skin grew clammy and cold even as her mouth went as dry as a desert. “You have to help me.”

  He paused and turned around. “Damn you,” he snarled with hands curled into fists. “How dare you risk my unborn child this way?”

  She flinched at the rage in his tone. “I was trying to do the right thing.” She jerked away from another zombie and gagged at the smell of decomposition permeating the air around her.

  “Then call upon the Unseen,” came his unsympathetic reply. “Save yourself. There’s nothing I can do.”

  Then they were gone. Poof. Vanished between one blink and the next, leaving Kimber alone, surrounded by the walking dead.

  She tried to tap into the Unseen within her and sobbed when all she found was emptiness. Despair rose inside her. Where was it? “It’s here,” she mewled. “I know it’s here. It has to be here.” All these months she’d been wanting to get rid of the Unseen squatting inside her, and now that she apparently had, she needed it.

  Clutching hands bore her to the ground. The moonlight began to strobe, zombie faces appearing and disappearing with the blinking light. Teeth gnashed, eager to feed on her but never coming quite close enough to do so. This had to be a dream. If it were real life, she would’ve already felt them tearing at her flesh. But why couldn’t she wake up?

  A small burst of heat spread outward from her womb, filling her with warmth and the feeling of serenity, and just enough confidence to burst through the nightmare holding her in its dark grip.

  * * *

  Kimber shot upright with a gasp. The sense of well-being slowly faded, as did the very real warmth coming from deep inside her womb. Wonderingly, she placed her palms flat against her belly. Had her baby helped her? Brought her to enough alertness that she’d been able to wake from that too-real nightmare?

  “Thank you, little guy,” she whispered, and rubbed circles on her abdomen. A little flutter of awareness streaked through her mind, making her gasp. Did her baby have a sort of mental telepathy? If so, was it because of Kimber’s necromancer abilities or Duncan’s vampiric tendencies? Or a combination of the two? While a vampire fathering a baby was rare, it wasn’t impossible. It just took regular feeding and lots and lots of sex. So, for her and Duncan, it had been actually rather easy for her to get pregnant. She snorted a laugh and tried to ignore how close to hysteria she felt.

  Her heart pitter-pattered a crazy rhythm. Could the baby’s ability be because of the Unseen within her?

  Oh, dear God. If her baby was tapped into the Unseen, what would happen to him? She couldn’t quite understand it, but somehow she knew it was a boy. Could she protect him if she managed to drive the Unseen back to itself?

  Did she actually now need the Unseen to be part of her? Was that what her dream was trying to tell her? But what would that mean long-term? And how would she tell Duncan?

  Crap. How was she going to tell Duncan she was pregnant? She knew he’d never react the way he had in the dream, never in a million years. He might not be willing to risk his people to save her and their baby, but he’d sure risk himself.

  She got up and went into the bathroom for some water. As she brought the glass to her mouth, her hand shook and she ended up sloshing water up her nostrils. She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, then drank down the rest of the water. Feeling calmer, she settled back into bed and let herself drift into sleep once again.

  A while later she felt the mattress dip. Lips pressed against the curve of her neck. Duncan must be finished for the day, which meant the sun was up. Feeling nowhere near rested, she opened her eyes, blinking sleepily.

  “Hey.” He kissed her lips and stroked the hair at her temple. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “It’s all right,” she murmured, her voice raspy with sleep. Still shaken by the dream and the thoughts that still hadn’t settled, she turned more fully into his embrace. “I had a bad dream, and I feel better now that you’re here.”

  “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’ll bring you up to speed after we’ve both gotten some rest.”

  Feeling more alert by the second, she decided she wanted to hear about their basic plans, at the very least. “Just give me the highlights.”

  “Xavier’s really intelligent and a competent civil engineer. He has some good ideas for the construction of the corridor.” He slanted his mouth over hers, getting her hot and bothered, then drew back with a grin. “Also, Atticus said he was going to talk to Natalie.” His expression sobered. “I think he’s going to release her from their agreement, now that Aodhán is back.”

  Kimber frowned. “But his agreement with Nat doesn’t involve sex, so why should it matter?”

  “Hmm. And how would you feel if I decided to feed from someone else, even if we weren’t having sex?” He laughed at the little growl she let out and hugged her.

  She wrapped her arms around his bare back to return the hug. At least he was touching her. And her libido perked up as she realized he was naked, which was his usual state when he went to bed. Maybe she could get him to do more than hug her now that she seemed to have caught a second wind.

  “You know there’s still a sexual element to feeding even if sex itself isn’t involved.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.” She blinked, her eyes getting almost too heavy to keep open. So much for her second wind. “Atticus feeding from Natalie now that Aodhán is back is bad.” She started to say more but was caught by a wide yawn.

  Duncan pressed his mouth to her temple. “All right, that’s enough for now. Let’s get some sleep.”

  Kimber turned onto her side and snuggled against him, her rear settling against his groin. His body perked up in interest, and she wiggled again until his hand clamped down on her hip. “Stop,” he groaned. “We can get up to speed on this, too, after we’ve rested.”

  She grinned and closed her eyes. It was enough that he wanted her. After that dream, she needed all the assurance she could get.

  * * *

  Duncan stared down at the love of his life and felt the ache in his chest ease. Kimber was so fiercely independent and one of the strongest people, emotionally, he knew. He wasn’t sure how much of that was from what she used to do for a living and how much of it came from being on her own. She had no family, not since her parents had been killed by vampires. It made him feel a bit primitive to think she needed him…for anything, but especially to make her feel more secure.

  He’d made it his mission to protect her all those months ago, and he would never regret it, nor would he give her up. She was his to love, to protect.

  And he was hers, even if it meant letting her use him for the zombie cure. If it came to that, he had little hope he would survive. But if he could make the world a safer place for Kimber, his death would be a small price to pay.

  Chapter Eight

  Natalie held up one hand, cutting Big Tom’s tirade off mid-rant. “If you would just let me finish a sentence?” She waited until he clamped his lips together and gave a red-faced nod. His color wasn’t due to embarrassment, she knew. He was royally pissed off. At least he wasn’t swinging his fists. Yet.

  “Until we can set up some sort of enclosed corridor, no one leaves the compound except scouting and raiding parties,” she finished. “So the answer isn’t an outright no. It’s a wait. Please.”

  “Yeah. I’ll believe it when I see it.” He mumbled a few curses and turned away, a half-dozen men following be
hind and grousing under their breath.

  “You know, Natalie, Tom doesn’t speak for all of us,” a man standing behind her said. “Most of us appreciate what we have here.”

  Before she could respond, Tom and his minions came barreling across the room. “You appreciate being a captive?” Tom shouted, getting in the guy’s face. “You’re nothing but a pansy-ass.”

  Natalie tried to move between the men, speaking in the most placating tone of voice she could. “Now, Tom—”

  The big man shot her a glare. “You stay out of this, missy. Vampire lover,” he snarled as he shoved her aside. His big fist shot out and slammed into the other man’s face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

  Then it was a free-for-all, and the only thing Natalie could do was try to stay out of everyone’s way as the vampire guards waded in to break things up. When they got Tom settled into a chair, their sharp fangs and glares kept him in place. She went over to him. “Whatever else you may think, Duncan hasn’t set rules in place arbitrarily. They’re for our safety. All of us, human and vampire alike.”

  He snorted, then winced, gingerly touching his bleeding nose. “We’re not allowed to go anywhere without an escort. How is that fair?”

  “And other than Duncan, Atticus, and the guards assigned to this area, no other vampires are allowed down here. Tell me how that’s not fair.”

  She got nowhere with the hardheaded jerk, finally throwing up her hands in defeat and leaving. As she made her way to her room, Natalie heaved a sigh of relief. Twenty minutes later, she finished writing her report and set the legal tablet aside on the coffee table. Even after all these months it still felt weird to handwrite something that before the Outbreak would have been done on a computer. Her report detailed this latest run-in with Big Tom. She’d wanted to get her thoughts down on paper before she forgot some of the more subtle nuances of the altercation. In her opinion, it hadn’t been serious enough to bother Duncan with right away, so she’d decided to wait until this evening to update him on the situation.

  She was half tempted to advise him to kick Big Tom and his cronies out, but then what? They’d be nothing more than zombie bait. They’d never last out there. More and more she tried to put herself in their shoes and knew if she were stuck downstairs without getting to see the sun or sky, she’d probably start going a little stir-crazy, too.

  Maybe that’s why she’d been more conciliatory than she had at their last meeting, because Big Tom, while he’d been his normal belligerent, obnoxious self as he’d spouted off about making deals with a bunch of devils, hadn’t tried to hit her this time. She had a feeling if he had, Atticus wouldn’t have let it go a second time. He’d been coldly furious when he’d learned that Big Tom had hit her a couple of weeks ago, going even stiffer with rage as the bruise on her face had shown in black and deep purple with shades of blue. Now it was a mottled green and yellow that she could mostly cover up with foundation.

  Nevertheless, Atticus usually took a close look at her cheek whenever they got together for her weekly donation of blood to him. She closed her fingers around her forearm, thinking of the carnal pain caused by his bite and the suction of his mouth as he fed, the way he made the pain fade into sensual pleasure so great she almost had an orgasm every time.

  A knock came at her door. She rose to her feet and padded barefoot to the door. A quick peek through the peephole brought Atticus into view. Speak of the devil. Or one of them, anyway.

  She opened the door. He stood there, feet braced slightly apart. Big, broad, and sexy. In a moment when she’d felt so alone, so abandoned, she’d thought about deepening their relationship, but that idea had evaporated like rainwater in the desert as soon as Aodhán had come back. “I thought you’d be in bed already.” She stood back to let Atticus into her apartment. “Can I get you anything?” she asked. Coffee, tea, me? She bit back a giggle and wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. It was only Atticus, after all. But there was a look in those silver eyes of his that told her she might not like what he’d come to say.

  After he took her chin in his fingers and tilted her head to get a better look at the fading bruises on her face, he gave a satisfied nod and released her. “Let’s sit down,” he said, and motioned toward the sofa in the small living room.

  She took a seat and waited for him to speak. When he sat beside her and stared at his hands, clasped between his spread knees, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “What’s going on?” She stared at him, her pulse picking up speed. She’d never seen this self-possessed man seem so hesitant before.

  He looked up, and she gasped at the misery written in the lines of his face. He shifted to face her and took her hands in his. With his thumbs sweeping gently across her knuckles, he murmured, “I know how you feel about Aodhán.” When she opened her mouth, he tightened his fingers and gave her that look that meant Shut up and let me talk. “I’ve always known, but I took advantage of his absence and persuaded you into our agreement.”

  “You didn’t take advantage of me, Atticus,” she assured him. “I wanted to help you.”

  He nodded. “You have a kind, generous heart, Natalie.” His thumbs started stroking her knuckles again. “And it belongs to Aodhán. So I release you from our agreement.”

  For once everything this taciturn vampire felt was clear to see in his eyes, on his drawn face. He looked sad. Heartbroken.

  Dear. God. He was in love with her. How had she missed that?

  “Atticus…”

  He squeezed her hands gently, released them, and got to his feet. When she stood, he cupped her face in his big hands, dropping his mouth to hers in a brief kiss. “Be with Aodhán without guilt, Natalie,” he said, his voice raspy and quiet. “My life is the richer for your friendship, which we will always have. But if he makes you unhappy,” he added in a tone as hard as steel, “he will answer to me.” He stepped back.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his wrist, knowing she held him in place only because he allowed it. “You haven’t fed all week.” She shoved out her arm, soft side up. “Please.”

  His lips firmed. “I don’t like pity feeds any more than I like pity fucks.”

  She frowned. “I wasn’t…that wasn’t what I…,” she huffed. “I’m worried about you, you big lug. It’ll probably take a couple of days for you to make an arrangement with another donor, and you need to feed sooner rather than later.” When he didn’t move, she dropped her arm to her side. “Fine. Just don’t come whining to me when the hunger really gets bad.”

  He scooped up her arm and held it gently in his hands. Silver eyes gleaming, he licked his lips. “I admit my control will not be what it should be if I don’t feed soon.” He stared into her face. “I won’t make this pleasurable for you, Natalie. It would be too much like cheating. I can dull the pain of my bite somewhat, but you will still feel it.”

  She swallowed. While he’d been so gentle with her, it had been easy to forget he was an apex predator and she was weak, puny prey. She trusted him, though, not to hurt her beyond the pain of the bite. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. “Go ahead.”

  Natalie heard his deep chuckle, then felt the cool brush of his fangs against her arm before they pierced her skin. Her eyes shot open, and she couldn’t hold back a squall of pain. She sucked in a breath and panted. God. If this was him blunting the pain, she’d hate to know what a full-on bite without any vampire glamour felt like. After a few seconds, his mouth lifted and his tongue stroked over her skin, sealing the wound. In an hour there wouldn’t be any sign at all that he’d fed from her.

  That made her inexplicably sad.

  His hand came up to her face, his thumb swiping away a tear she’d been unaware of shedding. She saw the same misery she felt reflected in his eyes.

  “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said on a sob.

  Atticus drew her into his arms, pressing her head against his chest. “It is a natural reaction to the end of a blood-consort rel
ationship,” he said. “This sadness you feel will pass. Don’t fight it. Just breathe and have faith that all will unfold as it should.”

  She pulled away and swiped her hands across her cheeks. “I’ll find you a match as soon as possible.”

  “I have no doubt you will.” He touched the tips of his fingers to her cheek, then turned away. He paused at the open door. “Thank you, Natalie.” Then he was gone, the door closing behind him.

  She slumped back onto the sofa. Still the tears crept down her face. She couldn’t shut them off. Through watery vision, she watched the round wounds on her inner forearm close. Close to an hour after Atticus had left, there were only two red spots where his fangs had thrust through her skin. She lightly rubbed at them and wondered if she was crazy for wishing they’d scarred so that she’d have a visual reminder of her time with him.

  Someone knocked, and her first thought was that Atticus had come back to tell her he’d changed his mind, that he wanted to stay with her. That he wanted to have more. Because at least Atticus was a sure thing. She knew she could count on him to be there for her. He wanted her, and not just because her blood tasted good. And while she might not have the same feelings for him as she did for Aodhán, at least she wouldn’t be alone when she died. With Aodhán, she just wasn’t sure how long he’d stay. He was, after all, not of this realm and had obligations elsewhere. But Atticus, on the other hand…She raced to the door and threw it open.

  Aodhán stood here, his handsome mouth curved in a smile. “Hello, mo chroí.”

  Wordlessly she waved him inside. She didn’t understand the disappointment she felt that he wasn’t her Roman vampire. She loved Aodhán and she was happy to see him, but at the same time she had this deep longing for Atticus.

  She was so confused.

  Aodhán pulled her into a loose embrace. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  How could she tell the man she loved that she was pining for another?