by Michele Hauf
“I see.” He’d experience the same orgasmic swoon.
She looked toward the door.
“We can call him back and have him present, if you wish.”
“No, that would be too weird. I want it this way. I just…”
“Need to relax and get comfortable with the place, surely. Why don’t you step out on the terrace for a while. The view is gorgeous, and I have a heater out there so you can enjoy the view. Take your time and get your bearings. Come back when you’re ready for this.”
“Thanks, Ivan. I think I will.”
* * *
Severo rented a gallery suite at the Chambers, a luxury hotel down the street from Ivan’s penthouse, but he had to take care of something back home first. He made the hour-long drive to the northern suburb where Bella used to live and parked under a willow tree. He strolled along the boulevard, taking in the nightlife.
His cell phone rang. It was Bella.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. So you going to hang out for a day or two? Listen to some Skynyrd?”
“I have something to take care of tonight, but then I’ll be sitting around thinking of you. Are you okay? Why the call? Is it Ivan? I left too quickly, didn’t I? I should have lingered, but it felt awkward.”
“Ivan’s letting me get my bearings. And don’t worry about it. We’re both doing things we never in a million years thought we’d do. I just needed to hear your voice.” She paused, then added, “It’s never going to be the same, is it?”
“Bella, don’t cry. Please, sweet, be strong. You can do this. And when it’s done, you’ll come home to me and everything will be fine.”
He heard a heavy gasp, as if she fought to catch her breath. “You’re lying.”
He sighed. A quick and reassuring rebuttal wasn’t so easy for him.
“Goodbye, Severo,” she said and hung up.
He clicked off the phone and stopped in the dark shadow that crept out from an alleyway. He didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t want to be the man who needed to lie because he couldn’t overcome this one small issue.
It could be good between the two of them.
He hoped.
* * *
The night was cold, and the wine lushly warm. Bella inhaled the crisp October air. It was supposed to snow tonight. She hoped she wouldn’t miss the first flakes.
Resolute, she turned to face a future that she would likely manage on her own. She didn’t want to do it alone, but she was a big girl.
Ivan sat in the living room, on a white sofa, an empty goblet on the coffee table. Soft jazz music played in the background. His bare feet tapped, his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed.
She approached cautiously but knew he was aware of her entrance. “What is it with all you immortals and the white furniture?” she said. “Do you have a great cleaner, or what? I mean…blood spots, anyone?”
Ivan smirked and nodded toward the black leather chaise opposite the sofa. “I don’t usually hunt on my sofa. But believe me, the wife has tried to get me to change the furniture here dozens of times.”
“Smart girl. We women look at furniture and wonder how it can be kept clean, not how aesthetic it is. So, will you tell me about your wife?”
Well-worn and riddled with scratches, the leather chaise was soft and Bella found it more welcoming than her and Severo’s chair had been lately.
“Dez is a witch who is twelve hundred years older than me,” Ivan offered. “She swept me off my feet a few years ago and succeeded in releasing me from a pact with the devil Himself.”
“Wow. Sounds like an incredible woman.”
“Amazing. But I suspect you may rank alongside her. Severo speaks highly of you.”
“I think I’m the first relationship he’s had since Aby.”
“I don’t know about her, but if the werewolf is willing to allow his mate to transform into a vampire, then you know you’ve got yourself a keeper.”
“Willing or simply has no other option? I’m not much for madness. Oh.” Bella doubled over, clutching her ribs. Stronger than it had been previously, the ache eroded her insides.
“It’s the blood hunger. It will only increase. You’ve done well so far.”
“It’s not in my gut. It’s right here.” She tapped her chest, just below her diaphragm. “Will it always be like this?”
“Not so strong. It’ll become instinctual.”
Instinctual sounded animal. Animal sounded like her lover. Oh, Severo, don’t stop loving me.
“Let’s do this, please. Before I change my mind,” she said.
Ivan stood and knelt before her, touching her knees comfortingly. His wide hands, traced with thick veins, were beautiful. “You can change your mind.”
“Have you seen someone who went mad?”
“I have.”
“Not pretty?”
“Not particularly.” He clasped one of her hands. “This life, Bella, is wondrous. You should not fear it. The idea of drinking blood may repulse you now, but trust that it will quickly become second nature. You will be gifted with immortality, so you may live with your mate as long as he lives.”
“But he has only a few centuries left.”
“And don’t you want to spend that time with him?”
“I do. If he’ll have me.”
“Give him a chance to adjust. Severo has been wounded.”
She nodded. Vampires had stolen his family. That was a wound she doubted anyone—even mortal—could get over. “Do you have enemies? What about werewolves?”
“I grew up during the height of the war between the vampires and witches. My mother actually killed my father once. But he rose from the ashes as a phoenix and then managed to fall in love with her.”
“That sounds weird, yet wickedly romantic.”
“I imagine it was. So no, I’ve never been prejudiced or hated any particular species or breed. I have the blood of both witches and vampires in my veins. And you will have that gift, as well. You will be a rarity among vampires, Bella. Very strong.”
“I like the idea of being strong. And I don’t ever want to call another species my enemy, either. Hell, a species? You can’t imagine how my life has changed these past few months.”
“I can’t, actually.” He smiled. “I was born this way, so humanity is a curiosity to me.”
“But you’re humane.”
“We all are, so long as we don’t succumb to the darkness that threatens us with every sip of blood we take. We vampires are called the Dark, but it’s only a label. It’s nothing we have to embrace. Witches are the Light. Though I have my doubts about that one at those times when my wife is angry with me.”
His smile shied from his lips as he looked aside.
“So what do we do?”
“You need to drink my blood.” He tugged his sweater off and held up his wrist. But Bella didn’t notice his wrist, because the hard pecs and washboard abs distracted her.
“I thought you said we didn’t have to get naked?”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t want to ruin the sweater. I can put it back on.”
“No. It’s fine. Just show me what to do.”
“I’ll bite into my wrist and then you drink. Simple as that. But don’t pause, because I heal quickly.”
“H-how much?”
“You’ll know. Ready?”
“Wait.” She gripped his wrist, holding it over her lap.
This is your last chance to run away from it all, Bella, she told herself. You can end it. Not have to face drinking blood for a freaking eternity.
No.
She wanted to live. With Severo. And she’d be damned if she was going to allow him to use the longtooth defense to weaken their love. She was in it for the long haul. The werewolf was going to have to accept her.
“I’m ready.”
Crimson blood bubbled on Ivan’s wrist like candy beads. It didn’t smell awful; in fact, it smelled delicious. Bella didn’t pause. She took his arm a
nd pressed her lips over his bloodied flesh.
The vampire moaned, but not out of pain. It stirred Bella from her intent sucking. God, this tasted good. It filled the aching hunger that had been clawing at her for days.
“More,” she murmured.
He’d told her the swoon would affect the victim, but it took hold of her, as well. Bella dropped Ivan’s wrist. Thrusting her head back, she smiled and drew up her knees as she twisted on the leather chaise.
She was sated.
“Rest,” Ivan whispered near her ear. He put a blanket over her. “Your teeth should come in quickly. We’ll take the next step then.”
Bella closed her eyes to dreams of Severo taking her in the pool, his strong arms holding her against the cement wall, his hips bumping hers as he thrust deeply into her.
She slept, or maybe it was a reverie of sorts. Either way, Bella came to clarity with a prick at her lip. She touched her mouth. The spot of liquid wasn’t saliva.
“Oh, hell.”
From around the corner Ivan popped his head. “Ah, your fangs have descended. How do you feel?”
Like she had a bad toothache. “Not sure.”
“Come look in the mirror,” he suggested. “It’ll help you to acclimate.”
Bella followed Ivan down the hallway. The bathroom was another all-white, blinding splendor of modern-day privilege.
He hung back at the door as she approached the mirror. Dark circles had formed beneath her eyes. Her skin looked faded, in need of a tan. What a wreck, she thought. But there, glinting in her mouth, were sharp fangs.
“How am I going to do this?” she said with an open mouth, not wanting to bite herself.
“You can will them down when you need them. Most often when the hunger strikes, they will descend automatically. You might cut yourself a time or two until you become accustomed to them. They’re pretty.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Pretty? You think?”
She bent toward the mirror and touched the fangs. They were small, about twice as long as a normal tooth. And pinpoint sharp.
Severo would not like this.
And yet he sported fangs that were much the same in his werewolf form.
Bella sighed and leaned against the counter to face Ivan. “I’m losing him, you know. You and he both say he can accept me, but he’s fooling himself.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Belladonna. Sure, Severo’s hatred for the vampire goes back many decades. But it is a focused hatred, which he has allowed to expand for reasons that have no tie to the original hate. There is no reason he cannot love you exactly as he has.”
“You talk a good game, Ivan. Your wife is a lucky lady.”
“I’m the lucky one. So how do you feel?”
“The same. Still have that strange ache below my lungs.”
“You need to drink more. Then the change will be complete, and you can learn to stalk a human victim.”
“Peachy. So I’m no longer human?”
“You, Belladonna, are now a vampire.”
He pronounced it with such grandeur, as if bestowing an honor.
Oh hell, what would Seth think of her now? Or her mother? Probably she could keep this secret from her mother. They were distant at best.
“So let’s get on with it,” Bella said. “Shall I do the other wrist?”
He rubbed his neck and raised his brows.
“Ah. The neck. Suppose I need to learn the routine, eh?”
He nodded. “It would be best. You know the difference between the carotid and the jugular?”
“Nope.”
“Then let’s get you up to pace, because I don’t want you biting into any arteries.”
* * *
“On the bed?” Bella gripped her throat.
The fangs already felt natural. And after a quick lesson on discerning veins from arteries, she was ready for this. But Ivan stood before his king-size bed, covered with rich emerald damask, as if it was the most natural thing to expect her to climb on with him.
“Do you prefer the chaise?” The narrow chaise longue in front of the window was covered with pillows. “The bed’s going to be more comfortable.”
She climbed on the bed, needing a lift from Ivan because it was so high.
Not wanting to wait awkwardly for the right moment or signal, she pushed him against the pillows and dove toward his neck.
Canines to skin. The act felt natural. Her sharp teeth easily penetrated his flesh. Blood pooled in her mouth.
Ivan didn’t flinch, and she thought to ask him if it was all right, but then put that worry aside. Of course it was all right.
Then again, nothing would ever again be right.
Dashing her tongue over the bite mark, she licked up his slowly flowing blood. She would need to suck to make it come out easily. The first bite was more delicious than the one in the living room.
The more blood she drew from him, the headier the taste. Bella lifted his shoulder and head to bring him closer to her.
He made a noise of satisfaction. His hand palmed her back—not stroking, nothing overt—but she took it as a sign to continue. Closing her eyes, she drank until she thought she could drink no more.
And when Ivan let out a moan and tilted his head, his body shuddered against hers. The swoon. An orgasm.
What he must feel, knowing his wife was off in another country while a stranger was literally getting him off. Bella realized Ivan had sacrificed much to help Severo and her.
Drawing away from her, he pushed up to sitting position. “Did you lick the wound?”
“Yes. But I don’t need to for you, do I?”
“No, but you should get used to it. How did that feel?”
“Great. You, uh…”
“It felt awesome.” He slid off the bed and offered her a hand. “Let’s go talk semantics.”
Good. He was keeping this businesslike. And while she’d much prefer to loll in bed and slip into a heady reverie now that her soul had been fed with blood, she followed him out to the living room.
* * *
He stood in the entry to a mansion east of the city. Elvira’s limo had driven here an hour earlier. Severo had hung back under an elm tree, watching as a crew of vampires followed her inside. Four of them. He recognized one who had chased Bella that fateful night of their first encounter. He hadn’t seen his face, but the longtooth’s foul scent lived in his brain.
He snarled. His teeth descended as the wolf fought for release. There was no need to completely release the werewolf. He didn’t need that strength. But he’d go halfway. Enough to ensure swift and final death.
The foyer was empty, and the front door had been left unlocked. Careless vampires. Loud rock music blared from somewhere beyond the doors at the end of the vast foyer. One vampiress and four slobbering minions? He could imagine what sort of debauched play went on in there.
Something stirred in his periphery. As soon as the vampire sighted the werewolf standing in the entry—stripped to the waist and half shifted, with long, muscular arms and taloned claws—he charged Severo.
Severo swiped the air. His talons cut through the flesh and bone at the neck, removing the vampire’s skull in one leathery tear. Severo tossed the head. The vampire ashed, all except the head.
The music stopped, and two male vampires sped toward him. He made quick work of them, not moving from his position.
Letting out a howl that had been birthed deep in his chest, Severo stomped forward, scenting the final longtooth. This one cowered behind a marble column. Severo grabbed him by the head and swung him across the floor. The vampire slid through two piles of bloody ash and landed at the front door with a crack of bone.
Severo pounced, landing with his forepaws upon the vampire’s chest. He beat down once, forcefully with fisted talons, penetrating the vampire’s rib cage and slicing through pulsing heart muscle. He ripped out the beating organ and tossed it behind him.
The vampire gnashed his fangs before Sever
o ripped off his head and threw it to the wall, not a foot from another staring head.
Huffing and heaving, Severo stretched tall, shedding the werewolf and resuming were form. Since he’d only half shifted, he still wore his leather pants. He shook off the blood from his hands.
The scent of another vampire made him bring his head upright, his ears pricking.
Stilettos crossed the marble floor, one heel slightly worn and creating a louder tone upon landing. Severo swung to face her, arms arced out at his sides. He breathed with triumph. A bittersweet win.
Elvira regarded her fallen comrades with a bored sigh. The still-pulsing heart elicited a small sneer from the vampiress. “Does this mean we’re even?”
Severo snorted and punched his fist loudly into his opposite palm. “As even as the two of us will ever be.”
“I can accept that.”
As could he. He had no intention of harming the one individual who had been responsible for his remaining unmarked while in captivity. But he would never forgive Evie her indiscretions toward Bella.
“My bags are packed.” She pouted. She couldn’t shift her dark-shadowed eyes away from the heart, not five feet to her left. “I think Berlin will be lovely for a time.”
“Good riddance.” Severo turned and marched out.
Chapter 21
“I don’t need to kill? Whew.”
Ivan drove a black BMW around the city. Bella sat on the passenger side. Though it was midnight, she hunted a human victim because the blood hunger had not relented.
“Vampires don’t need the kill. A small sip often or a larger drink less often. You choose,” he explained. “But to kill takes the nightmares of your victims into your soul. You will relive those nightmares in what we call the danse macabre. It’s not pretty. And those vampires who kill indiscriminately usually go mad from the nightmares.”
“There seems to be a lot of madness associated with vampirism. So do we have a connection now? I took your blood, so do I know things about you?”
He cast her a smile. “Do you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“And you won’t. I am considered your blood father, but our only connection is that my blood runs through your veins now. There is a theory that vampires exchange pieces of their soul when the transformation is made. I’m not so sure about that, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”