by Karen Payton
“It feels like I’ve been here before and it’s always cold.” She briskly rubbed her upper arms. “I just can’t remember it clearly.” She groaned again.
The wound closed a little as Connor laughed gently, and the scent of her frustration warmed his dead heart. Frustration, now that, I can deal with. “It is me that is always cold, and this is where we have been... together.”
Rebekah stared into space for a moment, and her skittering heartbeat gave him hope.
Connor stepped forward until diffused light illuminated his composed features. His body pretended relaxation as he resisted the urge to rush to her side.
“Hey,” he called again. “Do you trust me? Can I try something?”
She looked up, and he measured her start of surprise because he was a lot closer now, but she would not have seen him move. He locked onto her face, willing her to remember and to let him in.
Her voice was husky as she said, “Yes, you can try something.”
“Rebekah, close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes, and returned to hugging her knees tightly. She rested her chin on them, and, before her lashes had settled, his chilled breath fanned her cheek.
When his lips touched the corner of her mouth, he felt the rush of blood as her heart lurched, and he knew he was winning. The delicate scent he craved warmed from uncertainty to excitement. He moved to kiss the other corner.
“Hi, honey,” he whispered.
“I do remember this.” Her voice was heavy and thick, and as she sighed, his cool tongue tasted her.
More confident now, his fingers glided into her hair, and his lips tugged persuasively at hers, until she probed into his mouth and kissed him back.
Connor suffered the burn of her hot tongue. Her creamy scent stung his raw throat, and he loved it. He pushed himself deeper into revival sleep, gentling his touch, tightening the reins of control, and measuring every movement.
Settling beside her, he tentatively rolled her back onto the grass, and looked down into her flushed face. The moist cantering of her excited heart delighted him.
“Not feeling scared?” he asked, but he knew the answer. He knew her body better than she did.
“You smell like citrus.” The words tumbled out as she stared into his face. A blush stained her cheeks, and her lashes quickly veiled the worried spark captured by the dim light. Embarrassment is good.
He reached out and tilted her chin so she could not hide from him, and chuckled. “You smell like a cocktail of all the human scents I hunger for, like a drug that melts my brain and rips me apart every time I look at you.”
“Oh,” she said. The stunned expression in her brown eyes sharpened with curiosity as her palms framed his face.
He stayed still while her hands rediscovered the rough velvet of his cheekbones, his jaw and the contours of his mouth, and then she gripped his hair. “Connor,” she whispered.
“Ah, you do remember.” He growled with gentle satisfaction.
Resting on one elbow, he lay his palm on her hot cheek and persisted, “And Douglas? Do you feel that you are his?” He suppressed the disgust rearing inside him. “Or mine?”
“Yours,” she whispered. “Connor, love me.”
With a harsh sigh, he did what he had ached to do since he first saw her standing in the cavern. He moved down her body and, starting at the hem, he tore away the white dress.
Distaste curled his lip as, stroking the fabric aside, Connor revealed the triangle of scanty white lace panties.
Rebekah’s cheeks burned and her hands moved to shield her body.
Regret flooded his gaze at her mortified expression. Stroking his hand down over her quivering belly, he nudged her hands aside and rested his hand at her groin. “No. Honey, you are beautiful, it was just the thought of him dressing you in this.”
His throat worked to swallow as he twisted his fingers into the thin lace fabric and tore it away. Kissing her tummy, the flush of her excitement burned his lips and he smiled. “Better,” he murmured.
Continuing up her trembling body, he trailed his fingertips up between her breasts.
Goosebumps sprinkled over her skin, and a shuddering sigh moved through her.
“Can I touch you?” he asked in whispered reverence.
She nodded, and he dipped his head, his lips plucking at each tight pink bud of her flushed breasts until she buried her hands in his hair. He drew one sweet tip into his mouth at last, and his fingers teased in a seductive rhythm until she pushed her other breast into his hand.
“Connor...” she sighed.
His tongue ran up her throat and he claimed her mouth in a soft kiss, resting his solid bulk carefully over her. Bracing his weight in a protective frame, he still gave her free will as her flushed skin infused him with the radiating warmth of her longing.
Every muscle in his body froze and he lost himself in her heat.
“Let me in, Rebekah,” he said gently, pleading for her final surrender. “Please.”
She explored the contours of his hard shoulders, following down the planes of his back, until finally, she reveled in the tight muscles of his buttocks.
A grumble rattled in his throat as she parted her thighs and his aroused body stroked down into her slick heat.
On a quiet groan, he sank inside her, driving her breath in his wake. She wrapped her limbs around him, and he moved, a sensual rhythm stirring the lava flow of need inside her. His chest ached in a spasm of ecstasy as her scent filtered into his lungs.
Connor fought the one-hundred-year weight of the demons enticing him to tear holes in her flesh. He drowned in her growing excitement. He wanted to feel the furnace building inside her until his stone cold tissue glowed red, in his mind at least, before he left her. His own release burned like coal embers in his lap, tugging his velvet sheath tight, but he wanted to stay a little longer.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
Rebekah gasped as he sank his teeth into the swell of her breast. Her flesh yielded. His jaws closed, massaging firmly until the craving inside him gentled its grip to an entrancing caress. Finally, taking a long hard draught of blood drenched in the rapture rushing through her, he lifted his head and reluctantly eased his body away before he lost control.
She gripped his biceps in frustration, and he murmured against her throat, “I’ve got you, honey, it’s okay.”
His fingertips found the sweet spot inside her. His hand on her hip stopped her escaping his persuasive touch as he drove her over the edge. He drowned in her whimpering cries when a climax rippled through her and a tide of spasms gripped his fingers.
Tenderness overwhelmed him. He held her trembling body against his and lost himself in the glittering shower of sparks which lit up her senses. Cradling her gently, molding her to his hard muscular frame, he arrived at the moment where he felt whole again. He enfolded her in his arms and kept her safe.
A long time later, he stroked his tongue along the bite wound marking her breast. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured. Grinning sheepishly, he breathed through the soothing kiss he pressed to her flesh. “Vampires have needs too.”
“Connor, why can’t you stay, until the end?” she whispered, her tone heavy with regret.
He sighed. He knew she would ask. But not now, not when I’ve only just got her back. “I’m sorry honey, I won’t take the risk. I don’t know what would happen, but one thing I do know is that I can father a child, in theory.”
Rebekah looked at him in surprise. “Vampires, really?”
“Yes. Really.” Laughter rumbled inside his chest. “I know you think of us as the walking dead, but, it is more accurate to say we are suspended in time. Blood hydrates us, and that applies to all our fluids.” Connor lowered his chin to give her a hungry glance. “Believe me, if I could stay…”
He didn’t tell her of his personal fear, that his icy chill could damage her soft, warm tissue. None of us know.
Rebekah’s smile warmed her brown gaze. �
��All I know is this feels right. It is everything I should have felt standing next to Douglas-” Sudden realization hit home and she whispered, “Oh God. Connor, I’m married. What am I going to do?”
He rose up onto his elbow. “He won’t touch you,” he said softly. “I can’t change what happened, but Rebekah-” Connor held her gaze. “You were drugged. You’ve not given him your body or your heart, and I’ll tear his throat out if he tries anything.” He shrugged. “You’re not married in any way that counts.”
His cool finger followed the curve of her cheek, and then trailed over the bite that marked her as his. “In every way that matters, you are mine.” Connor looked up through thick lashes. “I could always remove him,” he murmured, dressing it up with a playful growl which was a little too convincing.
“No.” Rebekah quickly shook her head. “I hate him, but I won’t have that on my conscience.” A frown tugged her brows hard together. “He’s not going to ruin this, us, and by not even being here. So, no. He stays, and I deal with it.”
“You are far too good for me. I was thinking Douglas for breakfast, maybe Harry for dinner, and you, as dessert.” Relief filled him as Rebekah thumped his chest and chuckled. Can a vampire swell with happiness I wonder? Connor began to think so.
Chapter 17
Connor and Rebekah could not stay in the dappled shade of their haven, suspended between worlds, forever. Finally, the day faded and afternoon lost the battle with the cold of an early dusk, and the time came to redefine their own reality.
As they walked across the grass, approaching the eco-town hand-in-hand, Connor glanced up at the clusters of dark gray clouds, and mused, “You know, there are barely seven hours of daylight to bother us on a winter’s day in England, it’s a vampire’s dream location.” As he took in Rebekah’s distracting, gentle smile, he added, “My dream location.”
Reluctant moments later, they slipped behind the heavy sackcloth curtain. The chilled atmosphere of the eco-town tunnels was warm to Connor. The naked flames lighting the way sprinkled hot spots over his skin while they walked in silence. The pace of human-slow is a challenge I hope to meet often. The torch light warmed his smile with an amber glow. After all, there are only so many times a guy can whisk a girl off her feet.
Even without Rebekah’s grip tightening on his hand, Connor sensed her apprehension. Her delicate features wore a pinched expression.
So beautiful, was all he could think.
He projected a soothing aura. Nothing scared him. His war-torn past existence meant he met adversity head on. Douglas is weak, so, of course, I will win. The only question is, how long will I allow him to pollute Rebekah’s life?
He squeezed her hand carefully, but still she winced. “Sorry,” he said. “Deep breaths, Rebekah, you’re distracting me.”
They entered the meeting cavern together. When Connor appeared, he estimated that it took two seconds for the twelve human heartbeats to accelerate from a stroll to a stampede. They clattered through his chest like runaway horses and made him salivate. Grave sleep, my next priority. He acknowledged the craving which lodged in his gullet like a hot stone. He wanted to begin with the fastest heartbeat, flood it with venom and savor the dying tempo until the blood thickened to syrup and coated his mouth. Yep, I definitely need grave sleep.
“Where’s Douglas?” asked Connor, his tone vibrating through the cavern. He searched the fear-frozen faces and finally settled on Uncle Harry.
“I won’t bite, I promise.” A far from reassuring wolfish grin spread across his face.
“Behave,” Rebekah mumbled, but his amusing quip had relaxed the cramped feeling in her stomach.
Connor caught her eye. “Better,” he mouthed.
He had achieved his aim, portraying this confrontation as pure theater in which everyone has a part to play. But, I have the final say in what gets cut from the script, and in my version, Dracula comes out on top. With a fleeting fake frown, he curled his lip in a sneer, expressing the satire inside his head. “Rebekah, I’m a vampire, there is no contest.”
Rebekah’s own lip twitched, in spite of herself. However, the others in the cavern failed to get the joke. Their racing heart rates scratched harder at Connor’s throat.
Let’s get this done. “Douglas?” Upon hearing shoe leather scuffing the packed earth floor of the tunnel beyond, Connor said, “Ah, Douglas, you made it.”
Making his entrance, Douglas sought out Rebekah, studiously dismissing all others.
Connor suppressed a leer. Ignoring sharks when you’re in at the deep end is never a good idea.
“I’m sorry, Rebekah.” Douglas looked into her face, his own reddened and regretful.
Bravo. Connor could smell Douglas’ deception as if it were grease paint. Fear had an odor, and so did his oily malice. “I see you’ve decided to be reasonable,” said Connor.
When Douglas finally glanced Connor’s way, resentment and defiance flickered in his expression before the apologetic countenance slotted firmly back into place.
Connor’s gray stare probed, and Douglas shuffled beneath its weight. Incredible. He still thinks he can win.
“Just so we are clear, Douglas. Rebekah is home.” Connor did his own piece of acting, smiling at Douglas. “But my claim still holds, and if you wish to continue living… here, you will honor it.” Connor lifted Rebekah’s hand and placed a deliberate kiss on the back of her fingers, still holding Douglas’ gaze intently.
The pause after ‘living’ sprouted sweat over Douglas’ skin, and his hands folded into fists, unnoticed by all except Connor, who missed nothing. Still defiant, unbelievable.
“I shall visit, of course, and Rebekah will remain unharmed. Oh, and Douglas...” He paused to bore his meaning like a pile-driver deep into Douglas’ brain. “You don’t want to see me angry.” Connor’s tightened lips bared teeth which dripped with venom until he collected it with his tongue.
Douglas swallowed loudly, and hunger purred in Connor’s throat. Tempting though it is to end this, I need grave sleep. If I taste his blood now, I will not stop at one.
The hush in the cavern was eerie, except to Connor who was tuned in to the thundering pulse rates gnawing at his concentration. Human emotion is such an exciting array of scents and flavors. It was ironic that vampires preferred their blood petrified. Historically, humans took care to humanely slaughter cattle because the adrenalin released if they were panicked ruined the delicate flavor of the meat. Odd then that humans, once turned, like the blood to be pumped with adrenalin. Delicate is not something we yearn for as vampires.
Connor focused on Douglas, who, although his alarm had risen to a satisfying level, still stank of determination. “I trust we understand one another, hmm?” Connor waited, and knew that whatever his reply, Douglas was still on the hunt.
“I guess I have no choice since our marriage was unconsummated.” Douglas left the thought hanging and Connor’s hackles rose.
“That’s settled then.”
Connor would have taken her away with him at once, but he judged he had about five minutes to find containment before his brain hit the survival button and shut down coherent thought. Connor himself was the biggest danger right now.
Drawing Rebekah with him into the tunnel outside the meeting cavern, Connor said softly, “I have to go. I need to rehydrate, to sleep. I’ll be in the vampire cave. Warn Harry that no one must go there until I return.” The words needed no further explanation. “And Rebekah, stay away from Douglas. I’m sorry, honey, but he has not given up.” Connor settled his hands onto Rebekah’s shoulders and gained her full attention. “Unless you have changed your mind? I can take him with me now. I would make it quick.”
A grumble rattled in his throat as shaking her head, she said, “I can’t, you can’t.”
“I know.” He released her, and with a sudden gust of air, she was left alone with his disgruntled words still hanging on the breeze.
<><><>
Connor found his way down into the bo
wels of the eco-town and easily located the roughly hewn passageway leading to the entrance to the vampire cave. He took a moment to marvel again at what passed for the human concept of a trap.
This time, Connor pushed the lever, which moved with just a nudge of his hand. It activated the spring mechanism, propelling the boulder into lightning fast action to the human eye, and he went inside. Stepping over the rails which guided the huge rock, he waited for it to lumber, like a great gray elephant, into vampire view. Connor almost laughed aloud. As he had told Rebekah, twenty vampires, at least, could have escaped before the boulder settled into place.
As a trap, it was ridiculous, but it would serve Connor’s purpose. He would vary the depth of his sleep. In shallow grave sleep refreshment would take longer, but going deeper would release the sleepwalker and no boulder would not contain him.
He automatically laid out on the ground, the social vampire code as ingrained as any human habit. The white-hot blast of bloodlust raged through his tissue and the tight shrunken canvas of his skin carved a macabre smile into his features. His ribcage flexed as his body hunted for the blood in his stomach, the way human lungs hunt for oxygen when holding a breath beyond the limit that the body enjoys. Waves rolling onto a beach of splintered glass dashed pinpricks of pain over his skin.
Connor knew he had neglected his grave sleep control center for far too long. How old am I? I fall in love, and half my brain cells appear to have died, or, at least, be so preoccupied with Rebekah that they are going to be the death of the rest of me.
Connor’s grin reflected sheer pleasure. The feeling of joy swelling inside took him back to his twenty-first human year, when holding a girl’s hand without her chaperone seeing it, rampaged blood through his body to places which were definitely new and exciting. And back to when easing the fit of his pants around his flooded groin had made him feel like a man.
Thankfully, he had his draft of Rebekah’s blood to draw upon, and a little of that would go a long way. With no airway to protect, ingested blood coated his lungs and stomach, which was a short hop away from every muscle and sinew in need of sustenance. But, more importantly, a step away from the express route up the carotid artery into his brain.