by Karen Payton
Shit, he’s got her scent.
The vampire took off, his mouth gaping and his face folded into a silent snarl.
Connor accelerated, keeping the feral in his sights and tracking the black mass as it oozed in and out of the shadows.
Desperation cramped Connor’s chest. I need to buy her some time. With a grim smiled, he honed his senses and chose his own prey.
Veering left, he closed in on four roe deer in the dappled gloom of a copse. He shot forward, gripped the nearest animal around its ribcage and closed a fist around an antler, easing back on the pressure when it creaked in his palm. Holding tightly enough to restrain the animal, he launched himself back in the direction from which he came.
The deer thrashed, fighting against Connor’s unyielding embrace, and the heartbeat cantered loudly inside its chest. Will it distract him?
When Connor caught sight of the vampire still traveling through the woods, he released the agitated buck, letting it spring from his arms. As the deer catapulted forward, Connor gripped the animal’s hide in his fist, and with a sharp jerk, he tore a hole in the pelt.
The deer bellowed and blood splattered loudly onto the broad leaves of the undergrowth.
Will it work?
Connor circled away as the deer’s legs folded and flailed. The terrified buck tried to regain its feet, its brain shouting ‘run’.
The scent of gushing blood filled Connor’s mouth with saliva, and while he raced forward on a collision course with the feral, he prayed.
When the crazed vampire’s wide open mouth suddenly snapped shut and his head shot around, Connor froze. The blown black pupils glittered as he whipped about, tilting his head. The deer bellowed more quietly this time, and the feral set a course for the bleeding animal.
Connor followed on behind.
The vampire smashed into the animal at speed, the impact plowing its body through the undergrowth. He fell to his knees and gripped the deer’s skull, one clawed finger imploding the animal’s eyeball as it burrowed into the skull. His other hand punched through the shuddering body, shattering the sternum as he grappled inside the chest cavity. Pulling it out, he squeezed a fist around a lump of bleeding flesh and a river of blood ran down his arm.
Pushing the warm, bloodied organ into his mouth, the feral shoved his hand back inside the deer. His jaws worked until meat fell from his overfilled mouth, and his hands massaged the offal, trying to force it back in even though it flooded out again.
Connor spared barely a second to swallow his disgust before he drove forward at a full run into the feral’s side; more blood splattered out of the gaping mouth. The deviant creature’s clawed grip dragged the deer carcass with him for a few yards, until it fell away and hit the floor in a moist thump. Locking an arm around the feral’s neck, Connor barreled on through the woods, the vampire’s face bearing the brunt of collisions with the trees.
The woodland thinned and Connor looked for sunshine. A dappled yellow glow disappeared as soon as he stepped into it. Shit, autumn’s a bitch. The feral reached back and dug his nails into Connor’s neck, his blood-soaked fingers slipping over Connor’s granite skin.
Another golden coin of sunlight appeared on the ground, its slanting rays cutting through the air. Ducking his head and turning his face into the solid back of the vampire, Connor pushed forward into the bright funnel of light.
The feral pressed back into Connor’s braced body, scrabbling as his heels slipped on the packed mud. Connor locked every muscle tight and, feeling heat through the coat sleeve on the arm wrapped around the feral’s gargling throat, he held fast.
The sizzling of shriveling flesh crackled in the air and the vampire’s protests faded. Lumps of deer meat fell from his convulsing throat, sliding down his chest. When the smell of charring skin became overpowering, Connor uncoiled from his cowering position. Stepping back, he shoved the vampire forward. The feral hit the ground and rolled over. Smoke curled into the air, wreathing the scorched head in a billowing halo.
Connor watched with macabre curiosity as the shriveling eyelids peeled back and the fluid of ruptured eyeballs wept from the eye sockets. Lying in the repose of a sunbather, the vampire’s smoldering skull contained the heat until the brain itself combusted.
One less feral in the world to worry about. Connor took the scenic route back to Rebekah, satisfying himself that there were no other ferals in the woods.
Arriving back at the tree line, when Rebekah came into sight again, he ground his jaw in frustration. His joints ached as tension stretched every sinew, and he discovered that vampires can indeed have headaches. Recklessness was hard to contain, but he discarded thoughts of calling out her name. Human hearing was dull, and any vampires within a twenty-mile radius would hear him before she did. My day, so far, is not going great. I sure as hell don’t need any more complications. He was not taking any chances.
And then, thank the Lord, it looked like rain. The thunderclouds rolled in, and he watched thick shadows tumbling across the field towards where Rebekah walked, waiting until the wind picked up heralding a rain shower.
Rebekah didn’t care that she was drenched, even though the blond, feathered strands of her hair hung in mud-colored rat tails and dripped down her neck. She was tired and dusty, her throat was parched, and nothing mattered but the refreshing rain on her face.
A reverberating thud through her ribcage swept her sideways. The rushing scenery and a cold, hard embrace registered at the same time as fear, which felt like a rodent clawing at her insides.
Coming to an abrupt halt, she was bumped roughly back against a tree and she strangled a yelp of pain as the bark bit into her shoulder blades. In the dappled shade of the woods, she stared up into the eerily-white, smooth face of Connor, and panic upgraded to terror. His beautiful preternatural features wore an expression of blank composure, but the sparks glittering in his flint-hardened gaze mesmerized and scared her. The tendons in his neck twitched as he hung on to his temper by the most tenuous of threads.
Ignoring the bark grazing her skin, Rebekah froze. His frustration uncoiled in slow deliberate movements. Leaning in to form an arch around her, placing his hands on the tree trunk on either side of her head, his lips distorted with a sneer as he said, “What the frigging hell are you doing? Do you want to die? You don’t damn well know what’s out there.”
“I thought you’d gone,” she muttered. Her gaze skittered around the woods. “Are you alone?”
“Hell, Rebekah.” His tension eased when her nervous energy pulsed through him. “Of course I’m alone,” he said huskily. “What, did you think-?”
Pinned by his intent glare, Rebekah had no words, only fascination as the silver glimmer in his eyes darkened to lead. The frantic pulse in her neck drew his gaze, and he released the clawed grip of one hand. Absently brushing his fingertips over his thigh, he dusted them free of gouged lumps of tree bark. Entranced, he extended a cool index finger, tracing the contours of her clavicle and coming to rest in the V at the base of her throat. He strangled a groan as lust sharpened the planes of his face. Rebekah didn’t feel the disgust she always felt when she saw it on Douglas’ face. Her breath caught in her throat and pinpricks of heat scattered over her skin.
Connor’s eyes stroked over her rain-soaked skin, and his fingertip followed the droplets of water downward, dipping into her damp cleavage.
Rebekah pressed back into the tree, not wanting to break his concentration. Her pounding heart tried to break a few ribs, and anticipation hijacked fear as her mind mapped ahead to where she wanted his hands to go.
She sensed the moment when he reined himself in, and her aroused body shrieked with the agony of frustration. As he shifted his weight, easing the pressure of his fingertips and preparing to withdraw his hand, she covered it with her own.
“I want this,” she whispered. “Please, Connor. I want this... I want you.” Her voice broke. She pressed his hand firmly to her flesh, and time stood still as her pride hung its head, waiting
for the iodine sting of his rejection to stain her cheeks crimson.
Her eyes, dark pools of desperation framed with damp lashes, clouded with a kaleidoscope of all her imaginings. Hunger licked over her tingling skin and she held her breath, suspended between embarrassment, yearning, and paralyzing fear.
A breeze ruffled Connor’s hair and her fingers itched to brush it back from his stern brow. His rasping breathing through flared nostrils etched white lines around his mouth.
“Well, you can’t have this,” he breathed, although his hand didn’t move away, and his fingers stroked the swell of her breast. His eyes settled on her damp upper lip as he licked his own. “Maybe... a sip,” he murmured. Inching nearer, he finally closed the space. Pieces of tree bark cracked, crumbling beneath his fingers as he fought for restraint. He dipped into her warmth, snaking his tongue in to draw her heated flesh into his mouth, and molding himself carefully to it.
Her excitement buffeted his senses when Rebekah grabbed a handful of his hair in a tight fist, pulling him closer as pleasure surged inside her, and her galloping heartbeat thundered through him.
Connor groaned gently, his spiced citrus saliva coating her mouth as he deepened the kiss, and his questing fingers at last bared her breast. Another shower of sawdust rained down when he ground a fistful of tree bark to powder, and his lips hardened as he lost the struggle to hang on to his civilized veneer. “Oh God, I can’t do this,” he sighed sharply into her mouth, anguish shredding his tone, but he clung to her kiss for a moment longer.
He left quickly.
Rebekah shivered at the sudden vortex gusting over her damp body. The support of his solid bulk was snatched away, and her hands dropped to her sides.
Connor stood six yards away, torment biting into his features as he stared across the divide. “Believe me, if there was a way-” A snarl hung in the air as the thick undergrowth swallowed him whole, and the snapping of branches were an echo of his agitated retreat. He vanished.
Rebekah sank down onto the soft grass with a shuddering sigh.
Dusk fell while she went through every word Connor had uttered and every expression which had battled for control of his face. He won’t abandon me. I’ll wait until he comes back.
When he finally re-entered the glade as a silent apparition, early evening shadows dappled the wraithlike glow of his skin. He was bare to the waist, and the pink stain on his hand told her he had hunted.
Without speaking, he walked over and lowered himself gracefully onto the ground beside her. His hands molded to her waist as, in one fluid movement, he pulled her gently towards him. Lying back on the grass, he rolled her body over to cover his own until her knees framed his hips. His hands stroked up her body. He caressed her face and his kiss plunged sensually into her mouth.
Rebekah had no idea what had changed, but, like a match to a tinderbox, the spark of pleasure she felt at seeing him burst into flame when her lips met his. Her questions forgotten, she sensed a purpose in him, a determination that swelled her heart with an answering commitment.
“I don’t care how this turns out, just make love to me,” she whispered.
His sigh melting into a growl, he stroked his fingers into her hair, his other hand smoothing over her buttocks as his hips rocked into hers.
He settled a tantalizing kiss on the frantic pulse in her neck and an adrenalin rush forged a white-hot path through her. He savored the tingle on his cool lips when her cheeks flooded with delightful heat.
Connor’s cool caress was a shock of exhilaration on her flushed skin as he rolled her carefully onto her back, and murmured, “I’m not a fan of the missionary position, but this is new ground for me. I need to know I can leave if things get-” He left the thought hanging, looking down into her face.
He went to speak again, but she put a finger to his lips and smiled. “Shh... I know.”
His mouth twitched in faltering bravado as he said softly, “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”
His eyes searched hers, and finding the reassurances he yearned for, his pupils ate the gray away to glistening threads of silver, and he kissed her again.
Fierce concentration folded his brow as he drifted his fingers down over her skin, undoing the buttons of her shirt. He sighed when he pushed the fabric slowly aside, and beneath his hungry gaze her breasts strained against their confinement.
He tore away the silky fabric of her bra. Fascination painted tension across his features as the hard peaks flooded with heat, warming his questing fingertips. He tugged gently on the pink buds, sighing when she groaned, a feline stretch pushing the soft mounds into his hands.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, lowering his head and daring to flick his tongue over one hot tingling tip.
A shiver trembled through her as suddenly, he left.
Pushing back the clouds of excitement Rebekah moaned softly, “No...”
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. Resting between her knees, He was naked. Her eyes dragged down over the hard wall of his abdomen to where the ivory tone of his skin darkened in the shadow of his arousal twitching against his stomach.
“Tell me to stop,” he begged. He stroked his hand up the inside of her thigh, a snarl molding to his lips as his fingers teased over the pool of damp heat. Desire curled in her belly. He slipped his fingers inside her, his eyes burning with intensity as he groaned, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Love me.” She arched her back and took him in deeper. Somewhere inside, she feared this may be her only chance to feel like this.
A growl rumbled in his throat as, slowly uncoiling his shuddering body, his chest brushed her tingling nipples and he kissed her, his tongue echoing the sensual rhythm of his fingers stirring the lava flow of heat in her belly.
He hissed against her lips as her body clutched at his hand, aching frustration rippling through her.
“God, Rebekah,” he growled, his manhood pushing tentatively at the slick heat between her thighs. “Okay?”
She ran her hands over his solid shoulders. “Please. Now, please.”
He eased closer. Settling his stomach over hers, he filled her slowly, and moving in a tentative rhythm, he stole her breath as she clung to him. Little by little, he immersed himself in her heat until fire melted ice in a collision of senses.
Building intoxicating sensations deep inside, he traced his fingertips over the contours of her breasts. His tongue playing over her nipple, tugged desire through her center and set her senses alight. Hearing, seeing and feeling became a tangled glow of heat trickling along her clamoring nerve endings.
Connor’s touch was painfully deliberate, and each time his fingers laid a blush across her skin, his eyes followed the trail. A frown visited his features as he hung on to every sigh shuddering through her.
She was where she wanted to be, and every sinuous movement made her heart race harder as she surrendered to his will.
“Okay?” he breathed again. His gray eyes, glowing like molten steel in the dappled light, raked over her flushed cheeks and finally locked onto hers.
His features hardened as he fought to stay until her simmering rapture exploded in a starburst of unbearable pleasure, leaving her breathless. The tremors sweeping her, rippled through him too, tugging persuasively at him, begging him to join her and to flood her with his infatuation, but he eased reluctantly away. His fingertips dipped inside her, and he delighted in the heat which flared at his touch. Pressing his lips to her slender throat, and smothering a growl of satisfaction, his own release shuddered through him as her body clutching at his hand was enough to take him there with her.
She floated back to earth; heaven descended like a cotton-candy blanket, clouding her thoughts while her heartbeat steadied, and relaxation stole her will to move.
Connor closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the dull thud of her sated pulse. Holding her gently, he said, “I couldn’t stay away, I tried to. But I had to find a way I could be here, with you.”
Rebekah lifted h
er chin to look into his face. Anger and ferocity had been replaced by an expression she could not read. “How...?” She searched for words which would not make her blush.
“Let’s just say, I found a more creative way to enjoy revival sleep.” He laughed gently and said, “Although strictly speaking, it’s an awakening. A waking up of the gentle side, while the beast stays locked away.”
The relaxation of revival sleep resembled an out-of-body experience for Connor, where every movement felt like pushing his limbs through water. It allowed him time to fully experience the pleasures tingling through his body, and temper his responses.
The depressed senses dulled Connor’s lust for blood, at least, that had been his hope. Of course, he knew he couldn’t have all of her. The danger in that is too great. But he could be with her until his will crumbled. I never expected to hold back forever. I’m a vampire, not a saint.
Her energy field, the electrical activity inside her, was a symphony to him. She drenched him in sensations, delicious odors, and static sparks tingled over his skin, imprinting him with her essence. How could I not be overwhelmed by that?
Connor could remember the human sensation of burying himself inside soft, heated flesh, and of clinging to a woman’s body as his own became a bow of tension. He knew how it felt to let go when every nerve ending seared with desire, release boiling up inside him to infuse her with his love and need in the final expression of his spent body. The thudding heartbeats which slowly came down as two bodies melted into a tangle of damp skin and the pins and needles of trapped limbs.
He wanted that with Rebekah. But no, that was another life, another man.
But he had discovered the control of revival sleep. Even though scorching hunger abraded his throat and burned like lava inside his chest, he at least had a taste of the passion he dreamed of... but now.
Connor rested on his elbow, a serious expression of regret on his face as he gently fitted his fingers to the pattern of dusky pink prints, some already blossoming to lilac bruises, on Rebekah’s body.