Don't Talk Back To Your Vampire

by Michele Bardsley

Save her! Save her NOW!

  Lorcan’s roar made the whole room vibrate. “Lor?” I whispered.

  I’m here, Eva. Don’t go. Please don’t go.

  “Eva?” The beautiful voice drew me away from the chaos. I blinked and the people and the voices faded into nothing. I was in my room—no, my prison—with Lorcan.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong, love. It’s just you and me.” He patted my clasped hands. His eyes glowed as bright as twinkling green stars. Oops. Wrong color. Silver. Lor’s eyes were silver.

  “I killed you,” he said. “Then I gave you the taint. You should seek your revenge. You should kill me. An eye for an eye . . . a child for a child.”

  “Child for a . . . what are you talking about? What child?” I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. I would never hurt you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I keep forgetting that you’re not bloodthirsty or vengeful. That presents quite the problem.”

  I felt dizzy, as if everything around me was falling away. My mind clouded, thickened with confusion. When it cleared again, I couldn’t remember what had been said. What were we talking about? I love you, Eva. Excitement glimmered. Lorcan declared his love for me. Soothed by this memory, I smiled.

  “Free me, Eva. Free me from the blackness of my soul.”

  “What? How?” My smile dimmed. “Forgive yourself, Lor. Didn’t we already talk about this?”

  “I can’t forgive myself. I want to die. I want peace.”

  “No.” Panic raced through me. What was he asking me to do? No, it wasn’t fair. I was dying. I wouldn’t leave Lorcan to the same fate.

  “I love you. I love you so much.” He sighed, his gaze sad. “If you love me, you’ll do as I ask. I want to die. I want to be free.”

  A ribbon of understanding twirled. Oh, of course. That made sense. Lorcan wanted peace. I loved him enough to give him closure.

  “I’ll do as you ask,” I said. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “Now sleep. When you wake up, we’ll be together and you’ll help me.”

  “Yes, Lorcan.”

  The prince kneeled by his dying soul mate and wiped the sweat from her brow. She was beautiful, even though her skin was as pale as the winter moon. Her eyes opened. As soon as she caught sight of his face, she smiled. “It’s you,” she said. “I knew you would come.”

  Overjoyed, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, it is I. Your prince.”

  She chuckled, though the sound turned into a cough. “My prince of death. My angel of mercy. I am ready to go.”

  The prince’s heart filled with dread. “No, my love. I am your soul mate. Worry not. I can give you life.”

  “I had a life,” she said kindly. “It was a very good one. I was happy and blessed with friends and family.”

  “I’ve searched a thousand years for you.” Desperation clawed at him. “And now that you are finally in my arms, I must let you go?”

  “I am honored that you thought me worthy of such a sacrifice. Have your years been wasted, prince?”

  “No. Never.”

  “I’m glad.” She coughed and coughed. He wiped her mouth, terrified to see blood smeared on the cloth.

  “I can save you.”

  “From what?” she asked, smiling. “I don’t fear death.”

  For the first time in a long time the prince felt fear. He had the power to save his beloved—he need only force his blood into her and she would live forever. But that was his desire, not hers.

  Love was not selfish.

  Love was sacrifice.

  —From The Prince and the Maiden,

  an unpublished work by

  Lorcan O’Halloran

  “Eva?”

  I awoke slowly. The room was dimly lit and felt cold. None of the electronics were on—no TV or CD player or reading lamps. It seemed weird, but it was almost as though I could feel the residual vibes of other people. But no one was in here now. No one but Lorcan.

  I looked at him, at the man who loved me, and smiled. “Hello, there.” My words sounded like a sexy purr. His gaze flashed with surprise, but I knew that he wanted me. And I wanted him.

  He leaned forward and put his forehead against mine. “How do you feel?”

  “Perfect now that you’re here.”

  His lips brushed mine, then he scooted back. “We almost lost you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” I curled my finger in a beckoning signal. “C’mere.”

  Frowning, he lay next to me, propping his chin on his hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t quite seem like . . . you.”

  “I agreed to your request,” I said. “Remember?”

  “Request?”

  “I will give you peace, Lorcan, just like you wanted. But first . . .” I kissed him. He fell onto the bed and I climbed on top of him, sliding along his muscled form. “You are so yummy.”

  “Eva, I don’t think we should—”

  I put my finger against his lips. “We won’t bind. There’s no need, is there? We’ll give each other pleasure. I wouldn’t feel right about keeping my promise if I didn’t give you this at least.”

  I sat up, scooting so that the vee of my thighs cradled his hardening cock. I whipped off my nightgown.

  “A stóirín,” he murmured, his gaze feasting on my nakedness. “We must not do this.”

  “You want to,” I said simply as I unbuttoned his shirt. The material parted. I bent down and kissed the revealed flesh. I felt extremely giddy.

  Something’s wrong. She’s not like this. But . . . I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

  I heard Lorcan’s concerned thoughts and hesitated. What was I doing? Why was I lying on top of Lorcan? How had we ended up like this?

  I want you, came the reassurance. I want you and need you. I love you. Bring me peace, Eva. You promised. I cannot live without you. I cannot live. Remember?

  My purpose was renewed instantly. Of course! How could I have forgotten something so important? Lorcan needed me. He needed my love, yes, but more importantly, he needed me to end his suffering.

  My worship of his body continued and like the beautiful Irish god he was, he accepted my homage. I kissed every inch of skin, flicking my tongue across his nipples. I teased them to hardness and bit lightly.

  He groaned, and his hands dove into my hair and dragged me forward. His kiss was passionate . . . hot . . . consuming. I let him take my mouth again and again. I let the fires build and burn. Then I wrenched away and grasped at his pants. The zipper stuck in my trembling hands.

  “Let me help,” he said. The offending clothing sparkled away. Eager now, I gripped his hard length, stroking it with one hand, while with the other I cupped his balls and squeezed gently.

  “I wish I could feel you inside me,” I said as I crawled down and nestled between his legs. “But I’ll settle for this . . .”

  I licked his cock from base to tip. The musky scent of his maleness and the soft-hard feel of him against my lips delighted me. I stroked down until my mouth ghosted across his balls. I kissed them reverently. Then I pulled each one into the warm cave of my mouth, flicking and sucking lightly.

  I released him from that sensual torture and attacked his cock again. I licked him, flattening my tongue against him as I sought his crown. When I reached the top, I sucked on the mushroomed head, flicking the sensitive ridge.

  Once again, his hands dove into my hair and braced against my skull. He adjusted position, straining to get more deeply into my mouth. I accommodated him. I took every inch, slowly, teasing him as much as I could. I took him all, felt him brush the back of my throat.

  Lust roared through me. It had been so long since I’d felt this way. I poured all my desire into this one act. I went down on him again and again, until he was thrusting and moaning. I maintained a thin edge of control—I had to, didn’t I? Yes. I had to give him this last wonderful thing before I—

 
; “Stop, love.”

  He rolled me onto my back and covered me, his cock nestled against my wet heat. His silver eyes were glazed with desire.

  “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you,” he confessed.

  “I feel the same about you,” I said.

  Smiling that wonderful smile, he dipped to taste my collarbone.

  He didn’t stop there.

  Every touch made me shiver, made me want.

  Lorcan stretched my arms above my head. My back arched slightly, pushing my aching breasts into his chest. My whole body was aflame. I wanted to extend this exquisite torture nearly as much as I wanted to feel the bright and shining end of it.

  He kissed me, his tongue slipping into my mouth to mimic the mating ritual we couldn’t complete. I felt his cock jerk against my clit and I gasped.

  Lorcan released my wrists so that he could cup my breasts. He pinched my nipples into hardness and I moaned as little shocks of need electrified me. When his mouth surrounded my nipple and his tongue flicked the peak, pleasure jolted through me, spearing me at the core. He laved my nipple, suckling it hard while his hand tormented the other breast. Then he switched mouth and hand and I almost died . . . again.

  We were frenzied now, touching and kissing and groaning. I felt so savage, so edged with urgency that I could barely stand the overload of sensations. I wanted to scream.

  Lorcan seemed to sense that I was more than ready. He pushed his cock between the slick folds of my labia and began to move.

  Joy pierced me, trembling, aching tendrils that wrapped around me tighter and tighter.

  “Lorcan,” I whispered as my fingernails raked down his back. “Oh, Lorcan.”

  The orgasm swelled, waves of rapture threatening . . . then wham! I sailed over the threshold into bliss.

  From far away, I heard Lorcan groan as he increased his pace. I couldn’t believe it when my body revved for round two so quickly. The rocking of our bodies singed me to the core. The slap of flesh, the glazed look of lust in Lorcan’s eyes, and his thick, pumping cock brought me to the brink again.

  “Eva!”

  His cock pulsed against my clit and the second orgasm bloomed as I felt the warmth of his come spray onto my belly.

  He collapsed at my side, panting and sweating. He looked as though he’d been in battle rather than in bed. The thought made me giggle.

  Whispering in Gaelic, he passed his hand over my spattered flesh and the area tingled. I looked down and found myself clean.

  “I had no idea getting rid of the wet spot was another perk of being a vampire.”

  He grinned.

  I flattened him to the bed and lay on top of him, enjoying the feel of being pressed against him. I rose up just enough to look him in the eye. “I’m ready to give you what you want. I promised.”

  His gaze shadowed. “What are you talking about, Eva? What promise?”

  “The promise of peace.”

  “Oh, Eva . . .” I heard sorrow in his voice.

  “Don’t be sad.” I licked his neck. The carotid artery . . . perfect. My fangs extended.

  “Love, we need to talk. You should—”

  Quick and deep. Hold on and no matter what I say, don’t let go. Drain me. Kill me. End my suffering.

  I lay my full weight on him, bracing my hands on either side of the bed.

  Love overwhelmed me, guided me, and urged me onward.

  If you love Lorcan, you will do this. Do it now.

  I bit him.

  Chapter 22

  Blood gushed into my mouth. There was so much, it flowed between our bodies and onto the bed. It tasted wonderful. Powerful.

  Lorcan yelled and cursed, struggling beneath me. I held on and I drank as much as I could, but most of it spattered on us. It smelled like rust, like death.

  Close. So close.

  I heard Lorcan muttering in Gaelic. Prayers. He was going to pass to the Other Side. Just like I would. We’d be together in heaven. We’d be forever happy.

  Then my body lifted upward. I hurtled toward the ceiling but shuddered to a stop before slamming into it. Below me, the luscious, naked Lorcan was covered in blood. Without me to keep it open, the vicious wound on his neck began to heal.

  “No!” I cried, flailing toward him. “No! I must end your pain!”

  He rolled off the bed. With a few muttered words he was clean and dry and clothed. He stared at me as if I were a monster. As if I had betrayed him.

  “Did you want revenge so much that you would seduce me and try to kill me? I believed you, Eva. I believed your words of forgiveness and of second chances. Did you think your final act on this earth would be to murder your murderer?”

  “Why would I think that?” I asked, confused. I was trying to figure out why Lorcan was contradicting himself. If he wanted to die, then why didn’t he let me finish the job? “You said if I loved you, I would end your suffering. You begged me to do it.”

  Realization dawned in his gaze. The fury sparkling in his silver eyes turned to horror. And I recognized pity, too. I had seen that emotion in a lot of eyes over the years. Everyone pitied me. They thought a young single mother without an education working as a waitress deserved pity. But I had been happy. My life had been good. Why pity me?

  Slowly, I was lowered to the floor. Lorcan shot sparkles of gold at me. When I looked down, I too was clean, dry, and clothed. I was bound by a winding rope of gold light. Amazed, I stared at it. Why was Lorcan binding me? What was wrong?

  “The taint has done this to you,” he said. “I let my guilt and anger goad me into a reprehensible conclusion. We almost lost you last night. And tonight I had only hoped to speak with you, and I couldn’t believe it when you . . . Oh, God. What have I done?”

  When I awoke, my head hurt.

  Ouch. I thought vampires couldn’t get headaches.

  The bed on which I slept was narrow and spongy-soft. After a few seconds, the throbbing in my skull relented and I sat up.

  I wasn’t in my fancy bedroom anymore.

  I was in the prison. The real prison.

  Terror assailed me. Why had they put me in here?

  Scurrying off the bed, I paced the cell. I couldn’t remember anything. Images were vague . . . fluttering away like fickle butterflies. I had gone to sleep the same as every night. And I had woken up here. I walked to the plastic barrier and pressed my palms against it. “Hello?”

  No one answered.

  I returned to the bed and sat down. I was wearing a pair of white silk pajamas. Lorcan’s gold rose sparkled from its spot below my collarbone. My throat knotted. How could Jessica and Patrick lock me in here? How could Lorcan allow it?

  Horror slowly infiltrated my fearful confusion.

  I couldn’t remember.

  I vaguely recalled Lorcan coming into my room, but everything after that was a blank. I sure as hell didn’t remember getting hauled into this place.

  Had I done something terrible? Had the taint driven me mad? Then screwed with my memory? Or had someone else gotten inside my head?

  These thoughts were beyond terrifying.

  I sat on the cot and assessed the situation. I wasn’t tired or confused or frustrated. Suddenly, I realized I felt healthy and normal. But maybe that was the taint lying to me.

  “Patient LeRoy, Evangeline L.,” said an electronic voice. “Prepare for feeding.”

  I looked around the too-white room. It was big, square, boring, and sparse. Then I heard a whirring sound. A panel near the bed slid up and a small shelf popped out. On it was a plastic tube. I looked through the tiny square. I couldn’t see anything; it was as if the tube was part of the wall. I picked it up. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Your donor is prepared. Insert the tube into your mouth, Patient LeRoy.”

  Temporarily resigned to my situation, I put the tube into my mouth. Blood shot through it. Human blood. Had they determined that donors weren’t carriers of the taint? I thought about Bert. Where was he?

&nb
sp; After a few moments, the blood stopped flowing. I put the tube onto the shelf. It retracted and the square door shut. I bet dollars to donuts I’d consumed a pint exactly.

  “Hey!” I yelled. “Get someone in here. I want to know what’s going on!”

  Nobody responded. Frustration nipped at me.

  “Where’s my daughter? What have you done with Tamara?”

  “Please remain calm, Patient LeRoy,” said the electronic voice.

  “Shut up,” I muttered.

  “Patient LeRoy is uncontrollable. Initiating measures to subdue.”

  “What?” I heard a hissing noise. I couldn’t see the gas, but I could smell it. The air changed temperature as it filled the cell. “Stop!”

  You would think that a vampire who didn’t require breath wouldn’t be affected by a gas, but with Dr. Stan Michaels on the job, chances were good that he’d figured out a way to do it. Drowsy, my vision blurring, I stumbled to the bed.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. This was a bad dream. A nightmare. Lorcan, I sent out, where are you?

  When I awoke from my forced nap, I thought immediately of Lorcan. Are you there? Tell me if Tamara is all right.

  She is well.

  Relief rolled through me. At least he could hear me. My heart clenched as I thought about my daughter. Did she know I was here?

  She thinks you are undergoing treatments.

  What did I do to deserve imprisonment? Did I hurt anybody? He didn’t respond. Anxiety crawled into my gut. I stared out the clear plastic wall. The cell across from me was empty and the hallway was dimly lit. Seconds ticked by without a response.

  Lorcan?

  You don’t remember?

  I went to sleep in my bedroom and I woke up here. If something happened—oh, God. What did I do?

  Nothing. You didn’t hurt anybody. You were confused and a little . . . violent. We put you in the cell for your protection. I’m sorry, Eva, but I must go.

  Wait! Where is everybody? I’m alone! Help me, Lorcan.

  I am.

  He left my mind and I knew instantly that no matter how many times I tried to connect with him, he wouldn’t answer.

  Scrabbling noises echoed down the hallway.