Blood Submission (Deathless Night Series Book 5)

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Blood Submission (Deathless Night Series Book 5) Page 23

by L. E. Wilson


  She’d woken up with a sense of panic, shooting straight up in the bed. The first thing she noticed was that the sun was up, and she quickly scanned the room, looking for Dante. But he wasn’t there.

  However, the female vampire and two others were waiting for her, sitting on the floor against the wall. “It’s okay,” the strange dark-haired woman had said. “You’re safe.”

  “Where’s Dante?” Something was wrong. Laney could sense it. He’d seemed okay before she’d passed out. “Is he okay? Where is he?”

  She smiled. “He’s fine.”

  “I’ll go find him,” the vampire assured her, rubbing the dog’s ears on the way out. She didn’t appear worried.

  Still, Laney couldn’t relax. “Why am I here? In the apartment,” she clarified when the other two looked at each other and then back at her in confusion. “Why is my stuff here?”

  “Dante brought you here and brought your stuff up for you,” the same woman answered.

  “Why?” That sense of panic increased.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “But I’m glad he did. We were worried about you.”

  The other woman nodded and smiled in agreement. She had long mahogany hair and an “I love girls in wellies” T-shirt on. It was too big on her. “Can we get you anything? Are you hungry?”

  Laney shook her head. Her stomach was in knots.

  The first one got up off the floor and came to sit on the side of the bed. “You’re Laney, right?”

  Laney nodded, looking around the room nervously. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn’t the women, she felt nothing negative coming from them, only warmth.

  “Laney, I’m Keira. Keira Moss. I’m a witch. As are you.” She smiled when that got Laney’s attention. “And this is Grace Moss.” The woman on the floor, Grace, gave a little wave.

  Wait. “Moss? Your last name is Moss?”

  Keira smiled. “Yeah. We’re family.”

  Laney looked at her again, closer this time. She couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance. “How is that possible?”

  Making herself comfortable, Keira tucked her legs to the side and leaned over onto one hand. “From what I was told growing up and from the guys here, the Moss witches all belonged to the local coven in this area until it was overthrown by the new High Priest. A few of the families scattered, taking their children—us—with them. Fate and a little help from yours truly here has brought us all back together. Here and now.”

  Laney rubbed her forehead. It was gritty from the seawater. As a matter of fact, her entire body felt salty. “I don’t understand—”

  “We were scattered all over the world,” Grace spoke up from her spot on the carpet. “Four of us have found our way back to each other. Keira and Emma are sisters. Ryan and I are cousins.”

  Laney tried hard to stay focused and keep up. “There’s more of you?”

  “Five. Including you,” Keira said.

  “Where are the rest? Your parents?”

  “They’re gone,” Keira said sadly. “All taken by ‘accidents’.”

  “Doesn’t seem very accidental to me,” Grace muttered.

  “And there’s that,” Keira agreed. “But we can get more into the family history later. So, what happened out there? Luukas said when they found you that Dante was beaten to a bloody pulp and you were trying to protect him. He also said there were dead vampire bodies littering the ground, curiously empty of their demons.”

  “I don’t really know—I think I killed them,” she said in a small voice. Glancing at them each in turn, she confessed, “I don’t really feel very bad about it.”

  Keira sat up and touched her leg through the comforter. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Laney tried to put what she’d experienced into words. “Um. I heard them threatening Dante, and everything just got really sharp and clear. I wasn’t scared, or angry, or anything. And it was like the air turned purple, and I could see their…spirit? Aura? I don’t know. Then I just imagined it being squeezed from their bodies.” She hung her head and plucked at a loose thread. “It’s not the first time this has happened.”

  “Laney, those things that took you? They were vampires that were created by Luukas, but they’d left this colony to serve another vampire.” Her voice dropped. “A real bitch.”

  “They were also possessed,” Grace said.

  “Possessed?” Laney asked.

  Keira nodded. “That bitch I just mentioned, she found an ancient altar hidden deep underground. There were demons chained to it, well, their spirits were anyway. At least, until she figured out a way to free them. And she did that by finding bodies for them to live in. Vampires created by a powerful Master Vampire work the best and last the longest.”

  Laney recalled the stench of rot and the decomposing bodies. “They didn’t seem to be taking very good care of themselves.”

  “I think the bodies are dying, because Leeha—the aforementioned bitch—is dead now. And since she was technically their creator because she re-animated them after the possessions with her own blood, they won’t survive long in those bodies.”

  Vampires, demons, witches…if Laney hadn’t seen the stuff she’d seen with her own eyes, she’d think these two were crazy. But she had seen it. Still, she was confused. “What happened to the original owners of the bodies?”

  The two women looked at each other. “We’re not sure, “ Keira admitted.

  “Um, one thing you should know,” Grace said. “My mate, Aiden. British, dimpled chin, sexy grey eyes…he has one of those things inside of him.” Her face grew cautiously hopeful. “Maybe you could get it out?”

  Laney stared at her.

  “Grace, I think we should wait,” Keira said quietly. “We don’t know enough about Laney’s magic. None of the vampires survived her exorcism.”

  Grace refused to be deterred. “Can you do it, Laney? Can you get that fucking demon out and leave my Aiden in there?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “You said this has happened before,” she coaxed. “What happened? Were they humans or vampires or…?”

  “They were humans,” she told her.

  “And?”

  “They died,” she whispered.

  A heavy silence descended upon the room.

  “Well, shit.” Grace covered her face with her hands.

  “Grace, it’ll be okay,” Keira got up from the bed and went over to soothe her. “When you’re cleaned up and fed, we’ll talk more about this,” she said to Laney. “See what we can figure out.”

  Laney didn’t respond.

  Eventually, they’d gone to let Luukas know she was awake, and with nothing else to do, Laney had taken a quick shower and put Dante’s shirt back on over her last clean pair of jeans. Now she sat staring at the book on the nightstand with one hand clenched in the comforter and one hand over her stomach, trying to hold in the butterflies.

  She wanted to see Dante.

  The front door opened and closed, and Laney jumped up off the bed and ran out to the other room in her socks. It wasn’t her male, but the female vampire. “Where is he?”

  She smiled and opened her mouth. Then she snapped it shut and the smile fell from her face. “He’s not coming.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Oh, sorry.” She strode forward on long, graceful legs and held out her hand. It was pale and delicate, but her grip was strong when Laney took it in her own. “I’m Shea.”

  “Hi, Shea. I’m Laney.” She gave her a small smile. “Do you know where he is?”

  “Sure do,” Shea said. “But I think you should wait for him to come up here.”

  Laney laughed. It sounded bitter to even her own ears. “Yeah, no. Dante has no plans to come here. Take me to him. Please,” she added. “I need to see him.”

  Shea eyed her up and down. She must have passed the inspection. “He’s underground. I’ll get you in there.”

  “Thank you!” Acting on impulse, Laney h

ugged her.

  Shea stiffened for moment, then her arms came around her and she hugged her back. “Go get your shoes,” she told her.

  Chapter 29

  Her scent came to him first.

  Dante lifted his head and his burning eyes shot over to the empty tunnel.

  She’s here.

  Standing up, he triggered the secret latch underneath the bench he’d been sitting on and raised the seat. In a flash, he was in front of the human male, still waiting for his turn near the smashed bricks in the wall. “Time to go, asshole.” Lowering his head until he was eye to eye with the shorter man, he said, “Go back to the homeless camp and find your dead friend. You won’t remember me, or what happened to him. It must have been an animal.”

  “An animal,” he repeated obediently.

  Dante could hear Laney in the other room now. “Yes, a bear. Now get the fuck out of here.” He pointed toward the bench. “Follow the tunnel to the other end. Don’t speak to anyone until you get back to your friend.”

  The guy started shuffling toward the escape hatch, and when he didn’t move fast enough, Dante came up behind him with a snarl. Grasping him by the collar and the back of his pants, he hitched him over the side and dropped him through the opening.

  “Dante?”

  Her voice washed over him, soothing his raw nerves. He didn’t respond right away, watching to make sure the human male got up and walked away, and then he slammed the bench closed and secured the latch. Steeling himself, he turned to face her, and felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

  Laney stood before him in one of his plain black T-shirts and jeans, holding a candle. The shirt fell nearly to her knees and hung off one bare shoulder. He could see the outline of her bare breasts, the nipples jutting against the soft material. Her hair was partially damp and tumbled around her face and down her back in disarray. She was still too pale, too thin, her tawny eyes worried and too large in her delicate face.

  She was fucking exquisite.

  It took him a moment before he found his voice. “What are you doing here, little mouse?”

  “I came to find you,” she simply said. “Who was that?” She glanced around. “And what happened in here?” He could see her coming to conclusions—the correct conclusions. Her voice lowered to a near whisper. “No. Dante, did you hurt him?”

  Dante narrowed his eyes at her, unused to being questioned, nor having someone to answer to. But he felt compelled to do exactly that. He tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. “No. I—” The words wouldn’t come. He’d wanted to hurt the human. Craved the release it would have brought him. And he still might have done it if she hadn’t shown up.

  She studied him, her perceptive eyes roaming from his face to his clenched fists and back again. Somehow, he managed to remain still, even though he wanted to hide, afraid as always that she would see right through to his black soul.

  “Why did you leave me upstairs?”

  He ground his jaw, though her directness shouldn’t surprise him by now. His heart palpitated in his chest. “Because that’s where you should be.” His voice was gruff. He tried to swallow again.

  She took a step toward him. “I should be with you, Dante.”

  “No, little mouse.” He gave a snort of disgust. “You should not be with me.” His voice became strained. “You should have finished the job you started last night, the job the demons started out there on the docks. You would be free now.” A razor sharp pain lanced his insides at what he was about to say, yet he heard the words come out of his mouth as if in a dream. “I should still free you.”

  “Dante—”

  He interrupted whatever she had been about to say. It was too late now for her. “And yet, I can’t let you go. Not without forfeiting my own damned life. And I’m entirely too fucking selfish to do that.” He paused. “Letting you live upstairs is the best I can do. I will only bother you to feed when I have to. The others will make sure you have everything you need and will keep you safe.” His instincts screamed in denial. No one could keep her safer than he could.

  But we both know that’s nothing but a fucking lie, don’t we?

  She was silent after his little speech. He longed to know what she was thinking, but couldn’t bring himself to reach out to her thoughts, half-hopeful and half-terrified at what he might find there.

  Finally, she spoke. “But that’s not what I want. I want to be where you are.”

  That tiny tendril of hope threatened again. In an act of sheer desperation to save himself before it was too late, he changed the subject. “Why are you wearing my shirt?” The question may have come out a bit harsher than he had intended.

  Full of defiance as always, she lifted her chin. Her gaze was steady as she stared daggers across the room at him. Witnessing the way she stood up to him, his chest swelled with pride.

  “Because mine are filthy. And because I wanted to. It smells like you.”

  His blood warmed at her answer. “Laney—” He stopped, not quite sure what it was he had been about to say. A plea, or perhaps a warning. Talking had never been his forte. Especially when he had so many emotions eating away at his insides.

  She came closer, so close he could reach out and touch her face. And that’s exactly what he did, his fingertips skimming lightly over her cheekbone. Setting the candle down, she took his large hand in both of her small ones and held it to her chest, over her heart. “I want to be with you, wherever that is.”

  Her simple words struck him harder than any elaborate speech would have, all of the raging thoughts and emotions screaming inside of him settling into a low hum. He ran his free hand over his shaved head. He wanted to believe that she meant what she said, but perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. The other witches lived with their mates. “I can’t live upstairs, little mouse. It’s—”

  “Not safe,” she finished for him. “I know.”

  “I’m not—”

  “A good person…or vampire…or whatever. I know.”

  Pulling his hand from hers, he paced away. He didn’t understand. He hadn’t been kind to her. As a matter of fact, he’d treated her little better than any other human he’d run across. “Laney, I’m no good for you.”

  “I know. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the way I feel.”

  In the face of her unwavering perseverance, Dante began to do something that he hadn’t done in a long, long time. He let that tiny thread of hope spin into a rope. Tentatively, he reached out and touched her thoughts with his, but immediately pulled back again, still frightened that he’d find out it was all a lie.

  Her features softened, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Go ahead,” she told him.

  He stared at that mouth, transfixed by the curve of her lips. This tiny female that was more threatening to him than a group of hell’s demons. Swallowing hard, Dante reached out again. What he discovered made his heart stall out in his chest, then begin to pound sporadically. There was a touch of fear, yes, but there was also hope, longing, passion, and the beginnings of an honest love. He didn’t know if that love was a natural occurrence or brought on by the blood bond, and honestly, he didn’t fucking care. “Little mouse…Laney.” Unable to stop himself, he hauled her up into his arms and took her mouth with his. It wasn’t a tender kiss. It was a kiss of hunger, of disbelief, of euphoria and possession. Her soft body molded perfectly to the hard planes of his chest.

  He broke it off, working his way along her cheekbone to her ear. “Don’t be frightened of me. I would never hurt you.”

  “I’m only frightened of what I feel for you,” she whispered.

  His hand tightened in her hair. “You are MINE, little mouse.” With a hiss of longing, he flashed his fangs and kissed her again.

  Her arms wrapped tight around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, her moans of surrender blending with his. He kissed her until their hearts beat in rapid unison and their every breath depended on each other. He kissed her u
ntil his body trembled with wanting her. With a low growl, he made his way over her jaw and down to her throat, barely stopping himself before he plunged his fangs through her tender skin.

  She tilted her head away, exposing her throat to him. Dante groaned with the need to consume her in every possible way, but somehow he refrained. She was too pale. He had taken too much blood earlier in order to heal. However, he couldn’t resist running one fang along her pulsing artery before dropping a kiss there.

  “Dante, please,” she begged.

  “No, Laney.” Kissing his way back up to her mouth, he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You’re too pale.” Glancing around, he scowled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You don’t belong in here. In this room.” Still holding her, he strode over to the tunnel and set her down to go first. “Go. I’m right behind you.” He nearly regretted his decision as the sight of her deliciously plump ass in front of him nearly drove him to take her there in the dark, and he couldn’t resist touching her as they made their way into the other room.

  When they arrived moments later, he was surprised to see the candles had all been lit. Her backpack was there, along with her book. She had laid it on top of his, the green and red cover a bright contrast against the black. A few bottles of water and some juice were lined up along the wall, and there was a paper bag. He could smell the food inside. On the bed was the thick comforter from upstairs. And pillows.

  “Do you think you can figure out a way to keep rodents away? I swear I’ve heard them on occasion. And some hot running water would be nice, too. To bathe? But I guess that can be done upstairs.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I hope it’s okay that I brought a few things down here.”

  Dante had no words. The fact that she was willing to stay down here with him at all was hard for him to believe. He stood there like a fucking idiot, at a complete loss, his body raging with desire.

  “I can take everything back upstairs,” she said when the silence stretched on.

 
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