They watched her walk away from the villa down an uneven street. Marcus wanted to go with her, help with her new life, but knew it was unwise. He hoped Maya didn’t know Anne still lived. Watching her disappear around the corner was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“She is lovely, Marcus. A perfect match.”
“Yes. I felt that the instant our eyes met.”
“But I wonder, will it be enough?” Laurel was always the practical one.
“It has to be,” he answered, and put his arm around his sister. “It just has to be.”
“Then there is hope for me yet, brother.”
“Always. There’s always hope. I’d almost given up, but now there’s a bright future.”
“I must pack. You are sure I shouldn’t stay behind for a few more days?”
“No, Laurel. It’s too dangerous. Best only one of us is exposed to it. I don’t want you anywhere around when the summons comes from the Golden Vampire Council. And they will summon me.”
Bright pink bougainvillea covered the villa. He did think the flowers bloomed brighter this morning. As soon as Laurel was distracted with her packing and left the house, he would find Anne again.
Chapter 3
When Anne had awoken in the hospital that morning, it hadn’t taken long for her to learn she was now able to hear through walls and smell things from far away. The cacophony of conversations rolling around in her head made her dizzy.
Her flesh felt firm and smooth, as if stretched over cool marble. Colors were intensified. She could even smell the droplets of water holding fast to the walls of the clinic’s stainless steel sink. Even the wind had a woodsy taste.
The nurse had said things would change, and she would need protein. She was absolutely starved for a burger. All meat. No bun.
She made her way back to her hotel, stopping at a kebab vendor on the way and devouring four skewers of hot lamb. With each step she took, her muscles seemed to expand and harden. The smell of jasmine and lemon blossoms created a heady elixir. She let her hair down to fall over her face and neck, enjoying the sensual caress.
And she was horny as hell.
By the time she made it to the hotel room, she felt like showering again. She stripped and stepped inside the marble alcove, luxuriating in the feel of her own hands caressing her skin as she squeezed her breasts and pretended a dark lover was suckling them. She placed her fingers between her legs and stroked herself, causing spasms to twist her body inside out. As if some dark lover pressed himself against her back, she felt addicted to his scent, the smell of his need of her. Looking behind her, all she saw was steam. Anne wanted him.
Who was this dark fantasy man?Where did this image come from?
The new clothes the nurse at the clinic had given her even smelled like him.
Anne had made up her mind not to get involved with any man until she could heal, but now, in her newly aroused state, she was in need of a man as she never had been. She was steeped in dangerous and wicked thoughts of tasting and mating. Not sex, but mating, needing it like an animal in heat. She felt stronger than any man she met on the street, but ached for the man that would tame her, breed with her. A dark instinct was gaining dominance over her emotions.
I am in season.
Marcus should have left her alone, but he couldn’t. He was drawn to her body just as if there were tethers connecting them, tethers he would gladly wear. Chains even. He didn’t care.
But that was a foolish thought.
Having done his duty by seeing her safe return to her hotel, he could have just walked off into the misty streets like any number of gentlemen coming home from a rendezvous. But he couldn’t help himself, and instead stood under the blooming pear tree outside her hotel room. He needed to feed in her arousal, bask in her desire. Her scent worked like a homing beacon, a searchlight over the dark and dusty waters of the last three hundred years. He wrapped himself around the lamppost to keep from tracing a path to her. He had to be careful. She was not fully available, though he knew she belonged to him. And though it burned a hole in his soul, he stood strong and drank of this bitter cup.
He heard water. Anne was showering. He saw opportunity.
He traced to her bathroom, and, without showing his form, invisibly watched her naked body for the first time. He then wondered how long he’d be able to contain himself but couldn’t bring himself to leave.
She bent over, extending her hand to feel the warmth of the water, and then adjusted the brown fluffy curls of her hair with a clip. He would buy her a diamond-encrusted one, he thought. He would be the only one allowed to lace his fingers through her hair and remove that clip and have her locks fall down over his chest as she released herself to him in every way possible.
Her white body glowed like alabaster, evidence of her recent turning. She had strong legs with ample thighs and a bottom plump enough to fondle, to knead into submission. The juncture between her legs was bare, something he hadn’t seen in a hundred years, since that woman in France. The lips of her peach dripped with hunger. He could tell they were swollen, needing release. They needed to be suckled.
He watched her raise one leg up over the tiled lip of the shower and disappear into the steamy warmth. She began rubbing her porcelain skin with the lavender-citrus shower gel provided by the hotel. He found himself in front of her as she backed into the showerhead, water cascading down her neck and shoulders. She smoothed the luxurious gel over her slick breasts. And then she reached between her legs and washed her sex.
If you were mine now, you would lie in my arms, covered with my scent. It would bring you pleasure and you would never want it to wash off. Anne, I can give you this . . .
As if she heard him, she smiled, rinsed off, and turned several times, giving him a full view of all of her. He could have taken her twice or three times in the shower. They’d stand there, locked in ecstasy, until the water ran out. Or until they had to feed. And they could do that too, but that would be for the bedroom on the satin sheets he’d picked for that occasion.
His cock was turning to concrete.
She brought a hand to her core and inserted two fingers there. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as she pleasured herself. He knelt before her, his face just an inch from her sex, his lips opening as his tongue extended and he invisibly swiped a lick from the slit her fingers had invaded. She shuddered and then moaned. She was feeling something.
Remove your hands. Let me do it. As if she heard him, she floated her hands to her sides, fingers splayed, and widened her knees to accept his gift.
It took his breath away. Can she sense me? Does she know I am here?
It was impossible. But he knew little about the fating process. Perhaps she did sense him after all. He’d had thousands of sexual partners, and the only time this happened was when he was glamouring a human female, trying to help her adjust to his strong sexual needs and size. But he wasn’t using his glamour now on Anne, and yet she’d opened herself to him completely.
He inhaled, taking in the scent of her juices, then let his tongue slip aside her pink lips and tasted her bud.
She jumped.
He extended his tongue behind the knob and slid the length inside her labia to the dark passage, where one day he would plant his seed, where he would send his son to be born. He blessed her with a kiss and a prayer, charming her body to accept the gifts he would bring her. The thick cream she gave him tasted like honey and lemons. In that instant, he almost felt like he could live off it.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Oh, my God, yes.”
You are mine, Anne. Soon. You will be mine.
His own erection was causing him pain. His thick cock was thrusting against his wet breeches, begging to be released. Marcus knew it would have to wait, but how much longer? His member stiffly disobeyed, and he knew it would be strong enough to rip the fabric of his pants. If the head of his penis came in contact with her opening, there would be nothing he could do but plunge in. And then he wo
uld have sacrificed both of them for his own desire.
Abruptly, he pulled away from the shower, turned his back to her, and exited to the hallway, then stood and waited for her. He stared at the closed bathroom door between them like it was a twelve-foot stone fence.
Done with her shower, she walked naked from the bathroom, unconscious of how she delighted him. He was jealous of the thirsty pink towel she tamped all over her skin. He could hear the hairs of her forearms press back as she rubbed and damp dried herself. In the mirror over the dresser, she examined her pert nipples, pinching herself and feeling the weight of each bosom in her palms.
And then she climbed onto the bed. Marcus could still taste her peach, which was now displayed before him as she crawled to a mound of pillows at the headboard. He had to adjust his pants as his erection was near erupting, demanding fulfillment.
Marcus watched her ass rise up and then lower slowly down, as if she was dreaming of riding his shaft and sliding down the length of him, feeling every inch penetrate slowly. She settled on the bed sheets, and, mercifully, fell asleep. Had she not, he might have had violated her, violated their eternity together.
He traced back outside and stood, looking up to the window but still feeling her pink lips on his tongue.
Dangerous. He wondered if he could speed up the process, have her come to him early, but still make it a natural selection. He would have to be careful. Eternity was at stake.
Chapter 4
Anne could not believe the changes going on in her body. She could hear things streets away. The conversations blended over each other and confused her. She heard the breath of little birds and the scratch of insects climbing up tree limbs.
But the biggest problem for her was her insatiable appetite for raw meat. Her first purchase, cold calf liver, she ate so quickly she left bloody stains down the front of her shirt and scared passersby. She quickly bought a T-shirt at a local vendor and made it home to the motel room before the stains could bleed through.
The obsession to feed also kept her awake. She couldn’t sleep, and when she did, dreams haunted her and made her waken, her body tingling as if remembering the touch of a lover.
She knew she was not human.
But a vampire?
No. She decided the answer was no.
Have I contracted some blood disease?
Perhaps the clinic wasn’t what it was supposed to be. Perhaps the drug the nurse had given her didn’t work properly and was too weak against the raging disease taking over her body. She decided she would get fully sated, give in to the desire to feed, and then go in search of the clinic and see if she could get some answers.
She heard the heartbeat of every person she passed on the street. Even children. She found herself attracted to men her own age. Her eyes involuntarily flirted with them, made them stop, check her out.
And she found she liked it.
She felt powerful. Unafraid. Unsure what was to come, but stronger than she had ever been in her life, and capable of defending herself against anyone.
She gave up her quest to find the clinic, winding around the narrow streets and seeing building after building that looked familiar, then rounding a bend and finding herself lost again. She looked for the little church, but couldn’t locate it.
Resigned to follow her itinerary, she began her trip along the Riviera, traveling the narrow highway and switchbacks, overlooking the blue water of the Mediterranean speckled with boats. She stopped to buy meat every few hours. The more she ate, the clearer her vision became and the easier it was for her to tune out conversations so she could understand what was being said around her.
One morning she woke up next to a man in a strange apartment. One look at his fully clothed body and she knew they had not had sex. But his neck lay at a strange angle, and two dark puncture wounds invaded the flesh above his jugular. She knew.
I have killed. I have become a . . . a . . . vampire.
She was filled with disgust. But as she looked at her face in the bathroom mirror, her skin had taken on a glow unlike one she’d ever seen. Her hair was shiny. Her lips were dark red, her breasts felt full.
She felt satisfied. The urge to feed had lessened. But the urge to mate remained.
Marcus was summoned three days later. He had been discretely watching Anne as she made her way along the Riviera, and wasn’t of a mind to leave her side yet. He could smell her attraction for other men and it pained him a little.
At first, he was concerned when she did not feed. He watched as she gulped down several ounces of raw liver at the boucherie in Nice in front of a horrified tourist crowd. Anne took no notice of this, which was how he knew she was unsatisfied. She counted sailboats at the harbor, counted pigeons in the church squares. She busied herself with visiting every chapel and church that called to her with bells, like she was summoned. And in a way she was. She was searching.
Is she searching for me?
He was greatly relieved when she finally did take her first feeding just before leaving France. And then the next night she did it again, although she seemed to enjoy feeding from younger, attractive men.
But after her feedings, the nights belonged to him. He waited until sleep overtook her, and then he traced next to her body and pleasured her with fingers and lips and his tongue. He used glam to keep her in an aroused sleep while he satisfied her sexual urges without sex. Marcus paid no mind to the fact that his sexual urges were going unfulfilled; he needed to make sure she was spent. He did not want her doing something she would regret, now that she fed. Now that she was so close to strange men every day.
Marcus felt he could travel now, go back to Italy to face the Council. They had not been forthcoming with their reasons for his summons, but he knew it was not good. And their timing was horrible.
Maya was seated in the large chair before the Praetor’s desk. A vacant chair next to her was where Marcus had been instructed to sit. Maya’s face was beautiful, as always. She maintained a smug smile and cool demeanor. Obviously, she had spoken to the Praetor and had worked something out with him beforehand. This didn’t bode well for Marcus.
Praetor Artemis was not in a jovial mood. He was a few years older than Marcus in terms of appearance but was in reality easily three hundred years older. He had strikingly good looks and an impressive countenance, which felled the ladies right and left. He had been wise to steer clear of Maya, but on force of personality, they were a match. He also had never taken a fated female, enjoying every available unattached female, and it was rumored he’d slept with some of the council wives as well. Not that anyone would tell.
“Marcus, Maya has brought something to my attention. Naturally, affairs of the heart are private matters between two people.” He attempted a smile. “I try not to get involved in things I am not a direct party to.”
“I see.” Marcus hoped his eyes showed Maya he was completely cold to her. He masked even his anger.
“The boy is now almost six years old,” Praetor Artemis continued, directing his attention to Marcus, “yet you have not publically taken responsibility for him. He has known you, but as a friend of his mother’s. He perhaps has some inkling of who you really are.”
Maya’s face was radiant. Marcus noted how someone else’s bad news seemed to be good for her. His bad news. She gave him a devoted, sufficiently demure smile. His stomach churned. He wanted to sink his fingers into her neck and rip her throat out.
“It is time the boy got to know his father. It is time you acknowledged the fate between you two.”
“I will not. I am not ready.”
“Yes, Maya has told me just a week ago you met with Jacobi and had made arrangements for the ceremony at the Chapel. Why was this not acted upon?”
“Praetor, I do not wish to cause you or the boy or Maya any pain.”
This seemed to distress Praetor Artemis. His eyebrows drew down in a frown. “Well then, what is the problem?”
“Maya has told me we are fated, yet I don’t fee
l it.”
“But she bled for you, bore you a child.”
“I admit to having fondness for Maya and the boy.” He lied about his feelings for her, but the boy was sweet and did look just like him. “But I have not felt the fate as she does.”
“The bleeding is never wrong.”
“I have no explanation for it. But I have found my fated female, and I believe Maya has hidden this fact from you.”
Her eyes went red with anger. She stood abruptly. “What the hell is this? How dare you say this to me?”
“Maya, sit. I must hear him out.” The Praetor was upset as well. “We will get to the bottom of it immediately.” He motioned for Marcus to continue.
“I was preparing to meet or address the fate put upon me, one I did not feel. But, as you have said, much time has gone by and the boy is growing up. I had resigned myself to accepting the responsibility of claiming him into my household, and take Maya as well—”
“You act as if you are taking in a charity case,” Maya yelled. “I bore your son! Your son! No one ever forced you to bed me. You bed me several times a day for years. It must not have been too unpleasant. You are a dog, but you will pay for your cowardice.”
“It isn’t cowardice. I don’t feel you and I are fated. I enjoyed our time together, but never thought we were fated lovers. And I never took from you or made the oath.”
“Is this true, Maya?” the Praetor asked.
“I told him when I bled. I told him I was pregnant with his child. We were exclusive unto each other, or, at least that’s what he told me. I thought in time he would bring the oath and take from me. I thought he was a man of honor. Apparently, I was wrong. But my son is paying the price. Our son, Marcus! How can you be so cruel?”
Marcus did feel for the boy. He could have been a father to him, but now there was Anne. “Maybe there is something wrong with me, but I believe I am fated to another. Maya knows this. She tried to kill her.”
Honeymoon Bite (Golden Vampires of Tuscany) Page 3