by Karen Payton
Rebekah could not be sure how it happened, but his nimble cold fingers moved over her skin, her clothing barely twitched as it was tugged away, and a bed of soft grass was suddenly cooling her naked back.
Connor gazed down into her pink face. His aroused body lay between her thighs, their bodies unclothed this time. He closed his eyes, and savored the satin of her skin warming the velvet of his. When he opened them again, the mercurial currents of molten silver in his gaze mesmerized her and his lips curved into a smile of faked innocence. “What?”
“You’re a fast worker,” she breathed, holding onto her frown for three seconds as his fingers teased her flushed breast. He tugged the hard bud of her nipple and a dart of pleasure moved her hips into him.
“Not too fast, I’m waiting for you to catch up,” he chuckled hoarsely and, with a playful nudge, brushed his hard stomach enticingly over hers, tormenting the fiery heat between her thighs.
“Oh, I think I’m right there with you,” she said as she welcomed him in, captivated as he ascended inside her, driving the breath from her lungs in an aching sigh.
“I love you,” he whispered. His amusement melted and his body sought the enchanting warmth of hers. His tight abdomen smoldered with the effort of not crushing her fragile frame. He fought to contain the acid-burn of hunger tearing at his throat, begging for her blood to wash it down again.
“I love you, too,” Rebekah whispered, with a mischievous glint in her eye as she dragged her nails purposefully down over his back, as hard as she could.
His steely gaze sharpened, framing coal-black pupils with intense silver rims. “God, Rebekah,” he muttered, and she knew she had him, and nothing would ever take him from her.
He dipped his face to the swell of her breast, his lips playing over her nipple with painful care. He smiled as a blush of heat devoured the cool draft of his breath.
The fire inside her raged. She tightened around him, stirring an unbearable molten tide over the velvet steel of his swollen desire. He trailed kisses to her mouth, his body rejoicing in her shuddering climax, and he savored her galloping heartbeat riding roughshod over his.
He couldn’t stay, the demon of that final taboo still living inside his head, but he held her cradled to his chest until she floated back to him. His cool fingers traveled the length of her spine and molded her body to his. Every time her sigh warmed the granite of his flesh, it took longer for the chill to return, as though she was breathing life into him, in his mind at least.
He whispered into her hair, “You infuriate, and scare the shit out of me, at every turn.” As she chuckled, he groaned, “Please, Rebekah, take pity on me.”
Chapter 22
When Connor and Rebekah arrived back at the battlefield, Julian had already uncovered the burrows, and the humans were climbing out, grubby, agitated, and shell-shocked. The fight had taken only an instant, but the waiting seemed endless to a human brain. Having their sense of sight stolen, the sense of hearing deadened by tight-packed earth, and their nasal linings clogged by dirt while they fought for oxygen in the gradually rarefying atmosphere, stretched every minute into ten.
Rebekah clung to Connor’s carefully relaxed grip. Even in the dim moonlight, her eyes were drawn to the commanding presence of Julian; his golden tones contrasting dramatically with the blue-black shadowed hue of Connor’s appearance.
At ease in the middle of the subdued mayhem, Julian watched their approach.
Rebekah glanced up at Connor’s tight jaw, trying to measure his response. Does he trust him?
Julian met her gaze as though he could read her thoughts, his assessment laser-sharp. He raised a speculative brow, and her cheeks stung with embarrassment.
Turning to Connor, his expression a blend of amusement and apology, he said, “Doctor Connor. Good to see you, again.”
“Principal,” Connor said with a smile.
“And, you must be Rebekah…” A half-smile curved his lips. “So, we meet at last.”
Rebekah tried to feel grateful, but the hard expression Julian’s features wore before was still fresh in her mind. The warmth of his current appraisal filled her with confusion.
Feeling her fingers gripping his, Connor drew Rebekah in closer to his side. “You’ve got some ground to make up, Julian.” Connor slapped his friend on the shoulder with a force which would have broken human bones. “You’ve caused a bigger stir than we intended.”
Julian smiled widely. Cocking his head and faking puppy dog eyes, he said, “I won’t bite, I promise.”
Rebekah chuckled, releasing the last remnants of nervousness inside. I can remember Connor saying exactly those words, and Connor obviously trusts him.
As Connor and Julian talked in hushed tones, too fast for Rebekah to follow, she absorbed the fact that, for tonight, at least, the danger had passed.
Rebekah scanned the shadowy figures moving through the woods. Uncle Harry and Greg were making an attempt to cover over the burrows again, until Connor caught their eye and gestured they should leave it to him and Julian. Harry raised a weary hand and moved away, carving an exhausted meandering path over the rough terrain. Greg dusted off his hands and started rounding up the stragglers who had sunk to the ground in a huddled mass.
Rebekah searched the grimy faces and was relieved to see Thomas being helped along by Oscar, with an anguished Leizle moving alongside.
Her green eyes had dark smudges underneath and her chestnut-brown hair was tangled and threaded with twigs and leaves. Rebekah waved to attract Leizle’s attention, smiling widely when surprise wiped all expression from her face, and then it filled with joy.
Struggling forward on cramped legs, Leizle threw her arms around Rebekah. “Thank the Lord. We were so worried.”
When Connor and Julian suddenly stopped talking, Leizle’s hug stiffened. She darted a nervous glance at Connor as she quickly withdrew, moving away with a half wave and a smile. She was still skittish around Connor, but more so now with another vampire present.
Catching Connor’s eye, Rebekah jerked her head in Leizle’s direction and gave him a ‘see you later’ wave, before running after the younger girl and linking arms while they followed the others back over the meadow.
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In the aftermath of the battle, Connor and Julian settled at the tree line, looking out over the fields. Connor sat on his haunches, finely balanced on the balls of his feet, and Julian rested one knee on the ground. They had nowhere to be until dusk closed its gray fist over the sun and dragged it out of view.
The humans were safely inside the eco-town, and the hazy glow of dawn heralded a day of sunshine.
In the heavy shade of the trees, Connor thought of Rebekah and sighed. To lay with her in the sunshine would be heaven. Instead, I draw her into my chilled world, and give nothing back. If he could walk away, he would, but he knew he was not that noble.
After a long silence, during which Connor decided Rebekah would not thank him for a noble sacrifice, either, he took in Julian’s clean-cut profile and grinned. “You had me going there for a while. It was a close call. You know I nearly lost it?” Connor raised a quizzical eyebrow when Julian remained silent, preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Julian finally found focus and replied, “I’m sorry about that. I guess the dead leg thing pricked my pride. I thought there was time to have a little fun.” A wry grin folded his cheeks. “A fall came before my pride in this case. Although, faced with you, and her, arriving at the same time, my fun options went out of the window.”
Connor replayed the uncomfortable moment. “It could have played out very differently. You took a risk.”
“I thought you had him, number six.” Julian tried to look apologetic, but excitement glittered in the green depths of his eyes. “I had some fast thinking to do, and your Rebekah certainly made life interesting.” His sardonic grin tugged wider.
“I’d forgotten you two had not met. She’s feisty, no shrinking violet that’s for sure.”
�
�Even though I’d never seen her before, the look on your face was enough.” Julian shot a glance at Connor. “‘Risk her life at your peril’, came through loud and clear. I needed to come up with something, and I knew you’d pull it together.”
Sarcasm dripped as Connor said, “Well, that’s all right then, as long as one of us had a plan.”
Julian’s chuckle was spiced with relief. “You’d better believe it.”
Each indulged his own thoughts and silence descended again. Connor felt as though he was on a rollercoaster ride. I have trouble knowing which way is up these days. But, like an adrenalin junkie, he loved it, and judging by the frozen smile folding creases into Julian’s face, he loved it, too.
Connor pushed his hair back from his eyes. “We’ve bought a little time, but I think moving them out to a new location is still the only way to go. It won’t take long for Serge to round up more recruits, and come at them again.”
“I’ll keep tabs on him in council, and you keep your ear to the ground in the hospital.” Julian’s eyes narrowed and he grinned as a kestrel dropped from the sky like a feather-clad stone and came up empty-handed.
A good omen maybe? Connor liked to think so.
“You’re right, he’ll not give up now,” Julian said thoughtfully. “While you were missing with Rebekah.” He raised a suggestive eyebrow. “I visited the farmhouse and made sure our tracks were covered. But it’s only a matter of time.”
“So, it’s business as usual? Pull a double shift at the hospital and keep the enemy close, hmm?” He cast a speculative glance at Julian. “I’ll talk to Rebekah, and get the plans for the move underway. Can I count on you?”
“As cover, certainly. As for the rest, I’m yet to be convinced they are worth the risk.” Julian’s look was apologetic. “I know you disagree, and I understanding why you are drawn to Rebekah, but the others are....” He broke off as Connor’s attention was snatched away.
Connor sprang to his feet, and looking out over the meadow, he braced as if the wind had picked up and threatened his balance.
Curious, Julian followed the direction of his gaze and saw the figure of Rebekah. Sunlight on her blond hair, her chin raised and a hand shading her eyes, as she walked in their direction. Catching sight of Connor, she smiled and lengthened her stride.
Connor stepped as close to the shadow’s edge as he dared and waited, Julian forgotten. Laughter transformed his face when she threw herself at him at a full run, and he caught her easily.
Ah, thought Julian, I’d better make myself scarce, and he rose to his feet, too. He took another look at Rebekah, and suddenly, from nowhere, a pair of smudged-green eyes, almost a mirror of his own, appeared in his mind. Chestnut hair and a snub nose in a pale drawn face completed the vision and his fist clenched at his side.
Hunting in the woods was looking good; he was suddenly ravenous.
Chapter 23
Unwittingly observed by the keen eye of a lone vampire, Councilor Serge mounted the stone steps of his Georgian terraced house in London’s Eaton Place. He pushed on the large brass doorknob, stepped inside and closed the door.
The vampire smiled. He admired Serge’s choice of architecture. The 18th century brickwork was in good repair, as was the cream paintwork of the majestic pillars supporting the portico above the door. A house built to last, then, fitting to a vampire’s lifespan. Smiling at the thought, he took off down the street. After taking two left turns, he vaulted the six-foot high fence into the garden, and landed soundlessly on the soft grass at the rear of the house.
Settling in the thick shadow of an elm tree, he stared through the ground floor window and watched Councilor Serge taking a seat behind his desk. Serge’s pallid complexion glowed in the beams of moonlight which penetrated the dirty panes of glass. Shadows clustered in the deep crevasses in his aged skin and dressed his face in a hideous mask.
The dark intruder reveled in the councilor’s attitude of defeat. He had haunted the corridors of the council building maintaining an unremarkable presence. New hive members were not allowed inside the courtroom, and resentment burned inside his gut. I’m expected to wait three more years, ridiculous rules.
He was never one for following rules. After all, breaking them had landed him in London in the first place. Here, he had them all fooled, but, his anger at being shut out in the cold burned brighter, and he was in danger of falling into his old ways. I had fun killing that guy out in the woods. He enjoyed stalking the group of men through the trees, but the injured guy they left buried beneath the earth under a tree was a lure too fragrant to resist. His flesh was indigestible, but the taste of terror made it taste sweet. We all have our vises. Pretending to be a feral was not a huge step for him. His sadistic tendencies lurked barely below the surface.
He timed this visit to the councilor’s home with care. He smiled with malice, recognizing the impotent anger vibrating through Serge. Time has ticked by, and he still has no news of his guardsmen. How frustrating. By keeping company with Serge’s guardsmen, the dark vampire knew more than anyone should. The councilor has a great deal to learn about stealth, and how to launch an attack. The vampire knew the coordinated grid search of the surrounding countryside hinged on a personal vendetta with Doctor Connor.
The only thing he did not know before it happened, was when the guardsmen planned to move out. That part, Serge managed to conceal. But the guardsmen had been gone for five hours now, and it seemed unlikely they would return. My time to strike.
His youthful air invited underestimation, and he played to that strength. Examining both vampires in this arena of conflict, he found his preferred benefactor to be a closed book. Doctor Connor spent most of his time inside the hospital, and with so many exits to cover, finding out anything useful about him proved difficult. Tracking the doctor’s movements has been impossible.
Councilor Serge’s routine, however, was laughably predictable. And so, the ambitious young vampire often followed him home, and knew exactly what to say to get the councilor’s attention.
Reversing his circumnavigation of the house, he boldly arrived on the front step and knocked confidently on the glossy black door.
Serge’s face appeared. The arrival of a visitor gave him hope, and his breathing crackled in his dry chest with anticipation. Staring up into an unfamiliar face, his optimism melted into a sour grimace.
No, I’m not a returning guardsman, so sorry to disappoint you. The vampire suppressed a grin at Serge’s crestfallen expression.
Clearly, taken aback at the sudden appearance of a dark stranger, Serge’s bony fingers gripped the edge of the door. His thin shoulders blocked the entrance as he said, “Can I help you?”
Wavy black hair fell forward, veiling his amusement as the vampire inclined his head in mock deference. “Councilor Serge, I’m here to offer my services, if I may.”
“How so?” Frowning, Serge pursed his dry lips.
“I’m new to London. But I am very good at listening, and I believe you have a problem I can help you with.”
Serge looked around the stranger’s shoulder and surveyed the street, and when the vampire brazenly stepped closer, Serge fell back into the murky hallway, pulling open the front door as though he had no will of his own.
“May I come in?” His guest’s smile was encouraging.
Following Serge along the passageway, and watching his jacket flap against his thin body, the vampire cocked his head. My Lord, he’s older than I thought, weak, desperate, perfect.
The study bore evidence of Serge living here his entire life, throughout his mortal and immortal years. Bleached squares on the walls marked the place where mirrors once hung. It seemed he wanted no reminders of the miserable reality becoming a vampire proved to be for him.
Serge’s steps stirred dust from the carpet into a cloud of silt, and his obvious frustration trembled inside his aged frame.
The vampire hung on to an open boyish expression despite the mildewed atmosphere in the room coating his thr
oat. He resisted the urge to cough and shatter the moment. The smell of human sweat puzzled him, until he realized it emanated from Serge’s ancient jacket.
His nose wrinkled at the thought. Serge still wears his human clothes? Disgusting. Although, he draped his features in eager confidence when Serge finally turned to face him.
“Who are you?”
“What’s in a name?” The young vampire smiled. “People call me the General.”
“You don’t look like a military man.” Serge’s skin crackled when he frowned.
“I’m not, but I excel at getting things done.”
“And, what makes you think I need your help with anything?” asked Serge, indignation rattling in his throat as he puffed out his chest.
The vampire’s narrowed eyes were needle-sharp in the gloom. He already had what he came for. He had taken the measure of the man. Smug satisfaction was almost his undoing when, for a second, the mask slipped and calculation hardened his features.
“I’ll make a deal with you, councilor. If the information I uncover gives you an upper hand in your feud with Doctor Connor, you will champion my entrance into the courtroom, and then the council.” He assessed Serge’s sun-deprived face. “What do you say?”
“I think you presume too much.” Serge’s affront came too late to cover the nervous glance he sliced across the room.
“The stakes are high, for both of us,” the vampire murmured quietly.
Seconds ticked by in which Serge pretended disinterest, and his visitor’s attention wandered around the room, allowing him to gather more information to add to his arsenal.
Serge’s desk was cluttered with the legal books he used to help his feeble mind make sense of being a vampire. ‘Vampire Law and Council Etiquette’ was a well-thumbed edition. It caused amusement when the youth paused to think that there were rules he was supposed to abide by. I’ll never make a good vampire.
Drifting across the room, waiting patiently for Serge to bite, he ran his fingers through fibrous cobwebs which clung to the expensive furniture. Underneath the dust lurked opulence. The high ceiling was dripping in gold leaf, and the elaborate cornices were intricate in design.