by Jessica Sims
He hissed again, his hand pumping his cock furiously. The other wrist remained glued to his mouth, and he gave a low, sexy growl.
“Then,” I murmured, leaning in so he could feel my warm breath on his skin, “I thought maybe I’d take you in my mouth. Let your length skim my tongue until the head of your cock is pushing deep into my throat, so deep I can barely handle you—”
His entire body trembling, Rand gave a wrenching groan, and his hand shook. I watched as his cock seemed to flex, but nothing came out. I looked up at my vampire lover. Blood wetted his lips, and his wrist was still embedded with teeth. His eyes were closed, and a moment later, he sagged against the wall.
“Lindsey,” he panted, his mouth red with stolen blood. He licked his lips, then dragged his tongue over his wrist. “Never have I come so hard.”
I beamed up at him, feeling proud of doing my part. I would have preferred touching him as he came instead of just dirty talk. For now, though, I’d take what I could get. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
He pushed himself off the wall and moved toward me. I took an involuntary step backward, startled, but he only pressed a kiss to my mouth, a kiss with no fang. I relaxed and leaned into the kiss, enjoying his touch. My pulse still pounded between my legs and I wanted him to touch me again, but I’d wait for him to call the shots.
“Come back to bed with me,” he murmured against my mouth. “We shall rest momentarily, and then I intend on making you scream my name again.”
I smiled up at him. “Deal.”
Nineteen
Much later that night, after many bone-quaking orgasms for me, and two more wrist-drinking orgasms for Rand, we lay tangled in bed together. I was sweaty from the intense workout, and Rand’s skin was warm and flushed from my blood. I was drowsy, but not ready to go to sleep just yet. Instead, my mind was full of worries.
I traced a scar on his abdomen. “What’s this from?”
“Jerusalem.”
“And this one?” I touched a half-circle shape under one rib.
“A torture weapon was used on me when I was a hostage.”
“Are any of your scars from anything good, Rand?”
He chuckled, and his hand covered my tickling fingers. “War is never good, Lindsey, and my scars are because I am a warrior.”
“I see.” I dragged my hand out from under his and brushed my hand over his chest again. “At least it gave you good stamina, I suppose?”
“Verily,” he said, his fingers pushing a sweaty strand of hair off my face. “Perhaps you should go to war yourself if you intend to keep to my pace, fair Lindsey.”
I gave a small, tired chuckle. It was no secret between us that he’d tired me out. “Your pillow talk needs some work, buddy. This is the time where you’re supposed to confess feelings to a girl to keep her on the hook.” Another laugh escaped me, but it felt strained. Why was I leading the conversation down this path? I knew where it would go—nowhere. Yet I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to know if Rand was starting to feel as . . . tied to me as I was to him.
“Lindsey.” His voice was gentle. “If I were not what I am, I would cherish you eternally.”
Sudden tears pricked my eyes. I tried to laugh them away. “If you weren’t a vampire? Which is kind of funny, because if you were human, there’d be no ‘eternally.’ I’d settle for a good seventy more years or so, you know.”
“I cannot change what I am.”
“I wouldn’t change you,” I argued. Sure, he had his quirks, but I adored the man. But I was worried. Not just about my heart but about the upcoming confrontation as well. My fingers played with his long ones. “He’ll know you’re going to come after him, won’t he?” I asked. “The Dragon?”
“He will.”
“He’ll know because Guy is dead,” I guessed. “He’ll feel that?”
“The Dragon is the original upyri,” Rand told me. “I do not know if his immortality works the same as mine, but I imagine yes, he will know that Guy is dead and will guess that I will come after him. Even now, I feel his presence like a brand in the back of my mind.” He shook his head against the pillow, his dark hair spilling on the pillowcase. “I would give anything to be free of him. You do not know what it is like to serve a man like him. The Dragon is not like me. Think of the powers I have . . . his have even more intensity. He can convince with a mere word. He can charm with a thought. And he is bloodthirsty like none other. If he finds me, I am done. I must find him first. Everything depends on it.”
I shivered against Rand. “He’ll try to kill you.”
“I know. It has to be done.”
I clung to his hand, miserable. “I don’t want to lose you after I’ve just found you.”
He pulled me against him and pressed a kiss to my head. “I don’t want to lose you, either. But know that I am not truly free unless he is gone.”
And I knew what that meant. Guy had hinted that if the Dragon was destroyed, Rand would be, too. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. “Rand . . . Guy told me . . .”
“I know.”
“You know?”
He nodded, gazing up at the ceiling. “Likely he tried to convince you that if I should pursue the Dragon, it would be my death.”
“Is he right?”
He shrugged.
“That’s not an answer, Rand.” I poked his ribs.
“How can I possibly say? I have never killed the Dragon.”
“Yes, but you’ve killed other vampires.”
“Ah, but he is the first of his kind. Who is to say it is the same type of magic?”
“Who’s to say that it’s not?” I argued. “Rand, this could kill you!”
“And if it does?” He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it.“I do not belong in this time, Lindsey. Better that I take the Dragon’s vengeance upon myself than wish it upon another man, a good man with a family and children. He has lost a vassal in Guy and is losing me. He will seek to make more unless I stop him. So . . . stop him I must. I am expendable. I have no one.”
“You have me,” I said softly, my heart aching.
He brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression soft. “So I do.”
* * *
We stayed in Guy’s chalet for two more days, regaining our strength for the upcoming confrontation with the Dragon. I tried not to think about that, but it was constantly on my mind as we relaxed in the cabin.
There were things to do, of course. Guy had books and old chessboards and everything you could think of to entertain a jaded vampire. The rooms were cozy, and we were alone. We made love at least three times a day, each time better than the last. Rand drank from me every few hours, not enough to truly sate his hunger but just enough to not leave me exhausted. He said it was fine, but I worried.
I always worried.
I worried about Gemma, too, but the texts started rolling in the next night. She was back in Venice. The apartment was a clusterfuck. She’d found a few small things she could save. Were we okay? Did I fuck Rand?
Of course Gemma wanted to know. I kept my responses short, but the truth was, Gemma was a great distraction from the moody vampire at my side. Not that I didn’t appreciate Rand in all his different moods, but when he went outside to practice with his sword during the night? I worried.
Rand had taken out Guy and all the other vampires without breaking a sweat. Did he really have to practice his swordfighting skills? Was the Dragon that fearsome?
Was poor Rand totally screwed?
I kept these worries to myself and packed bags for us out of Guy’s things. I found extra clothing in Guy’s guest rooms, but it made me a little nervous to think that he’d been expecting visitors. Or worse, that we’d find a bunch of dead people buried out behind the house. I reprepped my vampire kit, too. I was out of garlic, so I’d need to get some in town when we went back.
Eventually, when we could stall no longer, I’ called and arranged for a rental car to come pick us up.
There was
no putting off going after the Dragon. On day three of our chalet idyll, I ate a hearty breakfast of four eggs and four slices of bacon. Rand drank from my throat, which turned into a quick round of nookie. We showered, dressed, grabbed our bags, and headed out.
We crossed through to the nearest city, then opted to take a train over the Alps instead of driving. We snuggled in the train car, got a hotel before dawn, and continued our trek across Europe, heading eastward.
By the time the train disembarked on the second day and we made our way to our newest hotel, I realized two things: one, that my card was nearly maxed to the limit, and two, that Rand wasn’t as healthy as he pretended to be.
“Rand?” I asked, pulling his cool hand into mine as we entered the hotel room. “Are you all right?”
“I will be,” he said with a thin smile for me. “Shall we take to the bed?” He gave me a sultry look. “I’ve missed the taste of you on my tongue.”
I went to the hotel window and double-checked the curtains, then threw a blanket over them just to be on the safe side. “We don’t have to have sex,” I said, moving back toward him. I smoothed a lock of hair from his brow. He looked exhausted, strained. “You can just drink from me. I enjoy that as much as the sex.”
He shook his head and pressed his forehead to my stomach. “I already drink too much from you. I should find someone else. You must stay here in this room.”
I stiffened. “You are not going to drink from someone else while I’m here.” The very thought of it made me sick.
“Lindsey,” Rand murmured, getting to his feet. He tried to pull me into his embrace, but I slapped his hands away. With a sigh, he gave me an entreating look. “I am a vampire, sweet. You cannot possibly feed me as much as you think you can. You will need your strength.”
“I have strength,” I protested. “I’ve been eating like a fiend at every stop. I’ve put on five pounds with all the protein I’ve been downing. I take vitamins every day. I feel fine.” I didn’t understand this. It hurt. “You said you would drink from me.”
“And I have, love. Sips here and there. You think I wish to sip from another?” He cupped my cheeks in his cool hands. “I want none but you. But I need to get my strength up if we are approaching the Dragon’s territory. And you will need your strength, too.”
“Will I really?” I bit out. “Does it matter if I’m strong?” Tears flooded my eyes. “Because you seem to think you’re going to die either way. You think this is a death mission, and you still insist on it.” I dashed at my cheeks, hating that I was crying. “So tell me why it matters if you drink from me or not.”
“Because it is a death sentence for me does not mean it has to be one for you,” he said softly, kissing my brow, my cheek, my nose. He was so tender, so loving. It destroyed me that he was determined to confront the Dragon. “Because it matters to me that you live.”
“We can be careful,” I told him. “I know we can. And I want to be the only one for you right now, in the time we have left,” I went on, clinging to his embrace. “I want to be the one you go to. If you drink from someone else, it’s a betrayal to me.”
“Ah, Lindsey,” he murmured, but when I put my arms around him, he sank his fangs into my neck.
“Yes, Rand,” I murmured, my entire body aching with delight as he licked and sucked at my throat. It didn’t even matter that I felt woozy from the loss of blood afterward. I clung to Rand as he played with my hair and neither of us spoke. The future was rushing up far too soon for either one of us.
I thought I could handle this.
I thought I’d be okay with falling for Rand. That I’d appreciate the time we had together. That whatever I had with him was a gift and when it was done, I’d go on my way, sadder but wiser and full of memories. I was used to people not staying in my life, with the exception of Gemma. But as we approached the Dragon’s home, I became more and more unhappy.
Why did Rand have to die? Why now? Couldn’t we retreat to the far side of the world, like, say, Nebraska, and hide out from the Dragon there? Nebraska was a long way from Europe. After a few years, wouldn’t the Dragon give up?
But Rand refused to hear any of it.
The Dragon must die, because he owed it to Frederic and William, and even Guy.
And what about Lindsey? I wanted to ask, but it seemed selfish to compare my feelings—only weeks old—to the brotherhood of men he’d fought with for two hundred years.
I’d simply have to adjust and steel myself for the worst. And it hurt more than I could possibly imagine.
Twenty
So where are we again?” I asked, stifling a yawn rising in my throat. If Rand saw me yawn, it’d worry him that he was taking too much blood, and that was the last thing I wanted. I lifted my menu and pretended to study it.
“In my time, this was called Wallachia, and this city Corona. It was fortified with walls. Great walls.” Rand looked lost in thought, as if seeing the past instead of the bustling modern city around us. I was pretty sure it was called Brasov, but Corona sounded prettier.
“Mmm,” I said, smiling at the waitress as she put a coffee in front of me. “And you think we’ll find the Dragon here?”
Rand tapped his brow. “I feel him close by. He is very near.”
I shivered. “Like . . . in this room near?”
He shook his head, his expression distracted, as if turned inward. “A few leagues from here but not close enough to worry yet. Before, he was like a small, dark stain in my mind. Now that we are closer, it feels as if my entire head threatens to be swallowed by his again.”
“Again?” I asked. That didn’t sound good.
Rand gave me a tiny, humorless smile. “It is not an easy life, that of upyri. Why do you think Guy hid away in the hills? Why do you think he did not live under his master’s thumb? It is because it is not living at all. There were many dark times that my mind was not my own. That every thought that filtered through my head was his, and my limbs moved under his commands and not my own. I do not relish the thought of those times.”
I swallowed hard, shocked. To think that Rand had been utterly controlled by someone else made me sick. I tried to imagine myself in his place, awake but unable to control my own actions. Now I started to understand why he didn’t want the guy to live. “Is it safe for you to be here?”
He shrugged. “There is no safe in my world, Lindsey. Were we not attacked in Rome? Was Gemma not accosted despite being cities away from us? Better to confront the bear in his lair than to live a life of endless fear.”
I wasn’t sure I agreed with that. I made some sort of noncommittal response and sipped my coffee. Rand’s fatalistic view of things hurt. It hurt to think that I might wake up one day and he could be gone.
I ached to think that Rand was choosing revenge against the Dragon over a life with me. Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked them away. It seemed like I was constantly getting weepy lately. Maybe that was a side effect of all the vitamins I was chugging to feed Rand. Maybe it was the blood loss.
Maybe it was the cute messages Gemma kept sending to my phone, like LINDSEY + RAND = <3 <3 <3 4 EVA! I knew she was sending them to make me smile and to let me know she was okay, but every time my phone buzzed, my heart ached a little more.
Things weren’t okay. I didn’t know how to stop any of this, but helping my lover as he headed straight for death? Definitely not anywhere on my “okay” scale. But I wanted to be supportive, so I kept my hurt to myself and sipped my coffee and ate my Romanian breakfast of sausage and eggs, and some weird mush called mamaliga.
We paid the tab at the counter, and as we did, I noticed a stand of postcards. I idly turned the wheel as the girl swiped my nearly maxed credit card. Pictures of local castles, local graveyards, historical photos—
Rand grabbed one from the side. “It cannot be.”
I smiled faintly. This was the first thing Rand had shown interest in—well, outside of me—in a few days. I nodded to the girl, indicating she should add it to our
tab. “It’s a postcard,” I told Rand. “Photos are printed up on paper. Um, haven’t you seen them?” He shrugged and so I went on. “They’re uh, pictures. Paintings sort of. The image is captured in a lens and stamped on paper. Please tell me you know what paper is, because I’m running out of descriptive words here.”
He simply stared at the card, tracing his fingers on it.
It was kind of cute, really. I took my credit card back from the cashier, looped an arm around Rand’s waist, and dragged him toward the restaurant exit. “Okay, paper. Let me think. I guess I could google a definition, but it’s a bunch of pressed fibers, right?”
“How is this possible?” Rand murmured. His finger stabbed at the surface of the card. “It is like he is here.”
“Like who is here?” I asked, getting out my car keys. Rand would probably want to continue traveling, but I wasn’t sure that we shouldn’t go back to the hotel. His mention of the stain on his mind bothered me, and I wondered if we needed to prepare more. I’d bought more chopped garlic and still carried the stakes in my boots, but my holy water holster was packed in my bag, and . . .
“The Dragon.”
That snapped me out of my thoughts. “The Dragon? Where?”
“Here,” Rand said, and shook the card. “His face is here.”
For the first time, I looked at the postcard he’d picked up. I took it from his hand and stared. There was a picture of a man on the postcard, a reprint of an old portrait. The man had a long, angular face bisected by an extra-long mustache. He had long, sweeping black curls and wore a weird jeweled hat. His clothes were red and old-fashioned, his brows heavy, his eyes prominent, nose long and pointed. Not a sexy dude. I flipped over the back of the card.
Vlad III, Draculea. Voivode of Wallachia. Also known as Vlad Tepes.
I shrieked.
“Lindsey?” Rand looked surprised at my outburst.
I shook the card at him. “Vlad Tepes? Vlad the Impaler? Dracula? We’re chasing fucking Dracula?”
He looked surprised and took the postcard back from my trembling fingers. “Do you know of him?”