Department 57: Rubies of Fire

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Department 57: Rubies of Fire Page 13

by Lynne Connolly


  “Oh yes! Take me every way you can!”

  He shoved her forward, so she flung out her hands to steady her fall and found the hard surface of the trunk at the bottom of her bed.

  The trunk was low, forcing her ass up and into him even more. The sounds of their lovemaking, wet flesh slapping against wet flesh, drove her higher, and the tingle inside began as his fingers resumed pinching and stroking her clit. His balls smacked against her upper thighs, each contact making her moan. All she could do was push back. The trunk gave her leverage, and she bent her legs a little to increase the angle.

  God, he was so deep, deeper than any man had ever been before. The unavoidable peak came closer, and she concentrated on it, went deep, felt him with her.

  “Roz, you are so fucking sexy. You should see this!”

  He leaned back a little, and a vivid picture entered her mind, straight from his.

  Their joining, as she’d never seen it before. His cock hammering into her, each stroke deeper, harder, penetrating her more each time, driving her up until—

  “Ahhhh!”

  He pierced her climax, sharp and sparkling, by leaning forward and sinking his fangs into the side of her neck.

  He gave and took at the same time, bathing her in his hot essence, drawing her blood into his body, making them one, pulsing hotly, neck and pussy, until she screamed, though whether for more or for him to stop she wasn’t sure.

  When he collapsed on her, she felt his tongue gently bathing the marks he’d just made in her neck. His tongue trembled. Then he slid his arms around her and drew her to her feet. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmured.

  He lifted her and carried her to bed, as tender as he’d been violent a moment before, tucking her up before sliding in next to her and curling her body into his. She sighed against his shoulder, replete.

  She had almost drifted off to sleep when he turned her head to face him. What she saw in his eyes tensed her anew. “I love you, Roz,” he said. When she would have replied, he pressed his finger briefly against her lips. “It doesn’t need an answer. It is what it is. That’s all.”

  She smiled under his finger and kissed it. “The feeling is entirely mutual. I love you, Andreas Constant.”

  His slight smile as he lowered his head to take her in a gentle, sharing kiss was one she would never forget.

  Andreas’s mind was definitely on other things as he packed to go to London later that evening. As fast as he could, because he needed, wanted to tell Roz, to hear her tell him she’d be there for him, that half a world was no distance for a vampire, that she would come with him.

  If she came with him, he’d know she’d banished the specter of her husband, and the war that had caused her so much anguish. Please, let her offer.

  He wouldn’t count on it, and he wouldn’t ask her. But he couldn’t bear the thought of spending significant time away from her. He could flash to her, but the time difference would mean he got little or no sleep, and he wouldn’t be able to do his job that way.

  When the knock came, he stopped briefly enough to scan whoever was outside before he tore open the door and dragged her inside. “What the hell are you doing here? You shouldn’t be in this neighborhood alone, Ellie. God knows what might have happened to you!”

  The child grinned. “I needed to feed. Besides, I lived in this area before. When I still thought vampires turned into bats and slept in coffins, and wondered what was wrong with me.”

  “Sure.” Not for the first time Andreas wondered at the resilience of this girl, who had lived on her own for at least twelve months as a newly mature vampire, a girl who’d done all he had, but at an earlier age and a more vulnerable sex. “Here?”

  “Yes. Just another skanky kid. Nobody noticed me much, and if they did, I snacked off them.”

  “You were lucky you didn’t kill anyone.”

  She shrugged. “Something told me not to kill, or I’d be the one to suffer. I was right, wasn’t I?” She wrinkled her nose and looked around. “Eugh, it stinks in here! You don’t live here?”

  “No. I’m looking for a new apartment. This is temporary. You know where my real home is, Ellie.”

  “Upstate.”

  “Right.” He’d taken Ellie there when he’d first bought the place, but she didn’t like it. The wide-open spaces creeped her out, she said. It wasn’t her idea of paradise. Ellie had a pleasant apartment in a respectable burb, one her salary from Cristos paid for, better than most students could usually hope for. “But I need somewhere in town. Somewhere small, somewhere close to the office.”

  “You could sell that house and buy something really nice in Manhattan.”

  “Something small and poky. I’m not rich, Ellie, any more than you are.” He turned away, checking he’d put all his personal belongings in his backpack. He’d left clean sheets on the bed and a few things in the corner where the stove was, the place the landlord optimistically called “the kitchen area.” He’d given his notice. No sense in staying. “You heard, then?”

  “Heard what?” She scuffed the toes of her sneakers on the bare wooden floor. “I ain’t been in the office today. Had lessons all day and some homework to finish afterward.”

  He sighed. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her. “I’m leaving on assignment.”

  “Where?”

  “London. Following a lead.”

  “No!”

  Her instinctive cry shocked him. “Hey, distance doesn’t mean that much to us. I haven’t practiced flashing that far, but I will. I need to come back a lot, so I can see you and—”

  “Roz?” Ellie’s mouth firmed into a hard line. “Well, you won’t have to worry about her much longer. I saw her.”

  “Where?” He wasn’t very concerned. Ellie wouldn’t have seen much more of Roz today than he had.

  “With Fabrice, earlier.”

  This caught him up short. He dropped the backpack, ignoring the dull thud as it hit the floor. “What are you talking about, Ellie?”

  Ellie stuck her hands in her jeans’ pockets, staring up at his face, eyes wide and sincere. “I needed to feed, and because of Jenna’s show, I left it till late. Hey, Jenna did good. She sold nearly everything she showed. The gallery wants more.”

  “Tell me about Roz.”

  Something in his tone must have warned her, because she took a step back. “Okay, okay, I was getting to that.” She swallowed. “Last night, just after sundown.”

  Just before they’d met at her apartment. And yet she hadn’t mentioned it to him, even before the vampires had arrived? Or this morning, when the meeting’s significance became obvious? It couldn’t be possible. “Go on.”

  Ellie took a deep breath. “She had her back to me, but I skimmed her mind and saw the sigil. It was Roz, all right. She was laughing with Fabrice, and there was a man with her, someone I don’t know, but I skimmed his mind too. He was a mortal. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, and I didn’t want to stay in anyone’s mind. I didn’t think anything much about it, to be honest. I was hungry, so I just went on and found someone to feed from.”

  “Where did you see them?”

  “Seventh Avenue.”

  What were they doing there? It could have been anything. Just because Roz had forgotten to tell him didn’t mean she knew anything. She could have bumped into Fabrice and stopped to chat. Perhaps she’d forgotten to mention it. Impossible. She knew, and yet she’d failed to mention it. Even if it was a chance encounter, she should have told them. But he hadn’t seen her yet. That must be it. She’d have told Cristos by now that she’d met up with Fabrice. Or maybe Ellie had mistaken the night she saw Roz. He’d ask Roz later.

  He grasped Ellie’s shoulder, noting her slight flinch. Even Ellie doubted him, just for a minute, so why shouldn’t he feel that nagging doubt about Roz? He’d talk to her, and she’d reassure him. “Clear your mind. Let me read you.”

  “Okay.”

  He saw it and felt the reality, the truth of what she told him. She�
�d seen Roz, or she thought she had. The details grew clearer. But maybe she’d been mistaken, seen someone else. The figure moved, and he saw Roz. Oh shit. But such a small thing—maybe Roz had forgotten.

  “Ellie, do me a favor?”

  She nodded but bit her bottom lip as she looked at him.

  “Don’t tell anybody what you just told me. At least until I’ve seen Roz and asked her about it. Chances are it means nothing, something she forgot to mention to me.”

  “At the very least it means she was one of the last people to see Fabrice before he was kidnapped. She should have told Cristos.”

  Roz could have spoken to Cristos by now; she’d had all day. Or Ellie could be mistaken about the night. He’d find out for sure later.

  Reluctantly, Ellie promised to hold off telling Cristos until Andreas had seen Roz. “But we’ll have to tell him soon. I only came to tell you first because—well, because you’re Andreas.”

  He nodded. “Because we’re friends, right? Good friends.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled at him, a terrifyingly vulnerable smile he wished he hadn’t seen. “Friends.”

  Roz would never sleep as well anywhere else. Dreamless, blissful lengths of time with no nightmares, no shadows.

  She awoke and touched him, instantly bringing herself to a sense of anticipation, but instead of accepting her unspoken invitation, he paused and nestled her next to him. “I have to ask you something.” She didn’t need to sense his removal from her to know it was nothing to do with their recent avowals of love. When he’d arrived at her apartment tonight, he’d fucked her with a relentlessness that had a desperation to it.

  “Go on.”

  “Did you see Fabrice just before he disappeared? In the street?”

  She frowned. “No.”

  “Not a quick, accidental meeting?”

  “No.” Had she forgotten something? No, she couldn’t remember anything.

  He stared at her for a long time, then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve probably been in this business too long.” But it did matter; she could tell by his slight withdrawal, his frown.

  But his next words took the first question out of her mind. “I have to go to London for a while.”

  “London, England?”

  “That’s the one.” He watched her face anxiously. “I can flash to see you.”

  “You’ll wear yourself out. Long-distance flashing is very tiring, even for you.” The news came as a shock. She needed to assimilate it, decide what to do. “How did this come about?”

  “The trail from the DIB turned in on itself and then went abroad. It’s only an assignment. I won’t be there forever.”

  “Is it dangerous?” She pulled him closer, not wanting to think of him in peril.

  “Not really, I don’t think it should be any more dangerous than what I’ve done here. Mainly investigation; so far I’ve not been asked to do anything more than that.”

  Then maybe she should go with him, but she couldn’t ask him. It would seem too needy, too much. He had to ask her.

  He didn’t. Either he wasn’t telling her everything, that the assignment was more dangerous than he’d thought, or he didn’t feel as involved as he claimed. Her happiness went down a notch.

  But she’d grown up a long time ago; she’d get over it. Still, the niggling suspicion remained. What was he hiding? “Do you have somewhere to live?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up in a gesture of resignation. “I’ll find somewhere. Hopefully I won’t be there long enough to put down roots.” He kissed her gently. “My heart won’t be there.” He sounded more melancholy than warm.

  So he didn’t expect to stay long, but she’d have liked him to ask her. “Maybe we can take turns flashing across. All you need is a webcam.”

  They used webcams to send live pictures. The Internet was full of seemingly pointless live webcam pictures, with coded details of the precise spot.

  That way, vampires escaped too many questions.

  A spark lit in Roz’s mind, an idea, a thought. “Do you think—”

  What she was going to say was lost in his next kiss, and her ideas flew away as he took her on another journey into passion.

  No, not this time. She had just enough thought left to swing him over and sit up, triumphant, straddling his hips. She stroked her finger down the length of his nose, letting her nail prick him at the very tip. “My turn,” she purred.

  He looked gorgeous like this, his eyes dark with passion, his mouth slightly open, lips curved. “My pleasure. Just call me your slave.”

  “All right, slave.” Chuckling, she bent forward to kiss him, but pulled back when he tried to curl his arm around the back of her head and drag her closer. “Hands behind your head.”

  Smiling, he lifted his arms and folded them, tucking his hands behind his neck. Then he raised a dark brow. “What now?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Then I’ll just wait here until you decide, and enjoy the view.” His gaze swept over her naked body.

  Instead of embarrassing her, it emboldened her to see him so obviously absorbed and turned on by the sight of her body. She cupped her hands under her breasts, lifted them a little, then hoisted them higher, pushing them at him. But when he would have surged up, she leaned back, taking them just out of his reach. He could have got to her, but he sank back, laughing. “I’m putty in your hands, sweetheart.”

  She snuggled back, feeling his erection nestle between the cleft in her buttocks. It felt good, stimulating her sensitive skin. “It doesn’t feel like putty to me.”

  She was in no mood to resist the temptation the feel of his skin next to hers always brought her. She began by stroking his body up and down, then tracing the muscles with the flat of her hand, pressing them when she covered his nipples, as hard as hers felt, taut and begging for attention.

  She gave it, bending to suck at one small nipple without warning, hearing his shout of delight, feeling his erection twitch behind her, moistening her ass as it moved. He liked it. His shout softened into a groan. She licked around the nipple and lifted, letting his cock rise before sinking and taking him into her body.

  A soft sigh was her reward, a sigh replete with delight, satisfaction. “Oh, darling, you can make me your slave anytime you want.”

  Looking into his eyes, she saw his soul there, and for that moment, she knew he meant every word he said. For now, he belonged to her.

  And she belonged to him.

  Her turn now. Her turn to drive him crazy with wanting her. As she moved, that part got stronger, until she felt him wanting, needing, to pleasure her.

  Before he could move, she pressed the palms of her hands to his chest, pushing down. “No. This is for you. You can please me by letting me please you. Let go, Andreas. Let go.”

  He stared up at her before smiling and relaxing against the pillows.

  “I mean it. Stop thinking about me. Share what I’m feeling.”

  She felt his mind caress hers, bathing it in warmth, and she laughed as she began to move again.

  They had no way of counting time. Minutes or hours could have passed, but her rhythm remained steady, up and down, working a regular beat, keeping her tension the same. She didn’t want a quick, explosive climax, although they had their place. She wanted to feel every surge, every time her libido took another step up.

  He understood; of course he did. Smiling, his eyes sparkling, he put his hands over hers and held himself rigid for her to do whatever she wanted to him.

  His growing excitement fed hers, and he took from her. Feeding and being fed, an endless circle toward a building peak.

  She felt her orgasm grow, warmth seeping through her, sparkling trails building, building, until the sudden explosion took her with it. Dimly she heard him crying her name, but she felt him in her, surrounding her, exploding with her.

  For the first time in this encounter, she closed her eyes.

  When she came to, she was leaning back against his upraised
legs, his cock still embedded inside her, though softer than before. He reached for her, hands open, palms uppermost, and without conscious thought, she put her hands in his. He tugged her down to lie against him, moving her so he tucked her to his side.

  “That was pretty special.” His voice rumbled through her body.

  “Yeah.”

  They slept.

  When they awoke, Roz had enough presence of mind to check the little digital alarm clock on her bedside table. Still only midnight. She glanced up to find him watching her, his eyes grave. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  He drew her up so he could kiss her. “I’ve been watching you sleep.”

  “Good?”

  “Yeah.” He gave her another gentle kiss. “Hungry? I attacked you before I could ask.”

  She chuckled. “Now he asks! No, I don’t need to feed as often as you do. I’m—”

  “I know. Older. But I fed earlier tonight. I didn’t want to come to you hungry. Not for blood, anyway. I can go between feeds for longer when I get older, I guess.”

  Vampires only needed a small amount, but like a diabetic needing insulin, regularly taken. Taking blood could be deeply personal, intensely sexual, but it didn’t have to happen that way. When a vampire took blood, he could enter the mind of the donor, and most vamps tried to give something back. Reassurance, some kind thought, a strengthening—not necessarily sexual.

  Or so Roz told herself. But the easiest way to repay the donor was to give a quick pseudo-orgasm straight into the mind, which, if she believed what some people said, was the most potent sexual organ in the whole body.

  She didn’t want him doing that. As a young vampire, Andreas needed to feed frequently, almost every night, but the thought of him wandering around administering orgasms to anyone but her made her see red. She wanted all his orgasms, everything he had to give her.

  Her possessiveness shocked her. She’d never felt like that about anyone before. Her late husband had been mortal, and she’d always known her love for him had to be finite, so she’d maintained a slight distance, preparing herself for his death, which had come too soon anyway. This time she’d fallen deeply in love with another vampire, one of her kind. Less problematic, she’d have thought before she met him.

 

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