Eternal Hunger

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Eternal Hunger Page 9

by Cameron Dean


  “So.” He ran his palms down the front of his pants, as if suddenly realizing they were sweaty. “You said you needed my help?”

  “I do, yes,” I replied. “But there are a couple of conditions.”

  “Parameters,” Chet said at once. “Let’s call them that. I’m good with parameters.”

  “Parameters it is, then,” I said.

  Chet smiled and his Adam’s apple stilled. “Okay,” he said. “Bring ’em on.”

  Though he had worked at the Sher longer than I had, the first time I met Chet was over the winter, when he helped foil a particularly nasty vampire plot involving an attack on a United States senator. He saved my life, in fact. In the process, I had learned that Chet also has a personal grudge against vampires. They had taken his best friend before his very eyes. His hatred of them ran just as deep as mine; he was the perfect person for the favor I was about to ask.

  “The parameters are really pretty basic,” I said. “I need you to keep absolutely everything about today’s visit, including the fact that I asked you to come here at all, to yourself. In particular, you are not to tell Bibi.”

  Behind his Coke-bottle glasses, Chet’s eyes grew wide. Since the events of the winter, he and Bibi and I had formed a loose triumvirate of sorts. He knew that Bibi and I were close, knew how unusual it would be for me to keep anything from her. As quickly as they had grown wide, his eyes narrowed in comprehension.

  “This has to do with vampires, doesn’t it?”

  “It does.” I nodded. “I should also warn you that what I’m about to ask could be dangerous for you, though I’m not quite sure how.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Candace,” he said. “I can take care of myself. What do you need me to do?”

  “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

  “Holy shit,” Chet said moments later, his voice truly awed. We were standing in the doorway of my hidden office. He had approached the room cautiously. But I could see he understood its purpose at once.

  “You really do it, don’t you?” he said, and I could hear a tremor of excitement threading through his voice. “What happened New Year’s wasn’t a onetime deal. You really fight them.”

  More quickly now, he moved to the first of a series of cabinets with wide, shallow drawers. Their original purpose was to house architectural drawings. I had made some modifications. Chet slid the top one open, took in its contents. Silver stakes in an array of thicknesses and sizes. He picked one up, as if to test its weight in his hand, then turned toward me.

  “You fight back,” he corrected himself. “You take them out.”

  “Not all of them,” I said. “Just the ones who feed on human blood. And before you get all starry-eyed, there haven’t been all that many of those.”

  Chet closed his eyes, as if suddenly dizzy, then opened them again. “What can I do to help?”

  “I want you to help me keep what’s in this room safe,” I said. “I may not be able to come back here for a while. I’m thinking you should take the laptop and discs, the reference library, and any of the weapons you want.”

  Chet’s head swiveled, his eyes fixed on my face. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  I shook my head. “No. But there are some personal matters I have to take care of that will take up a lot of time, keep me away from home. I don’t want to run the risk of losing everything I’ve got here, Chet.”

  Whether Ash had been its impetus or not, I had worked hard for what this room contained, and what it represented. Power, knowledge. And I was not about to let it go to waste.

  “Okay,” Chet said slowly, his eyes still on my face. “I can understand that.”

  “Nobody else knows about what’s here, Chet,” I went on. “No one else even knows this room exists. Not Bibi, not Al. No one. That’s the way it has to stay. If you take this on, you’re on your own.”

  “Are you asking for my help or trying to scare me off?”

  “Both.”

  “The answer is still yes,” Chet said.

  “I’m really glad to hear it. I owe you one.”

  “I should pull my car into the garage,” Chet said. “That way, we can load up without any prying eyes.”

  “That’s a great idea,” I said.

  He tucked a silver stake into the pocket protector he always wore in his front shirt pocket.

  “I’ll go get the car.”

  Half an hour later, we were done. My reference books, laptop computer, and backup discs, along with the items from my weapons collection Chet had decided he didn’t want to be without, had all been safely loaded into the trunk of his car. The books he would keep at his own apartment. After copying the discs, he would store the originals in a safe-deposit box. While I sealed off my office and locked up the house, Chet pulled back out onto the street, leaving the engine running as he got out of the car.

  “You take care, Candace,” he said as I unlocked my own driver’s side door.

  “I will,” I said. I opened the door, then turned back to face him. It was almost noon now. The sun bright as a new penny in the cloudless Vegas sky. Beneath the palm of my hand, the metal of the doorjamb felt hot enough to burn.

  “Thanks for everything, Chet. I really mean that.”

  “Hey,” he said, reaching out suddenly. “It’s all right. I mean, that’s what friends are for.”

  “Thanks just the same,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I turned to climb into the car. Without warning, my stomach lurched. The pavement swooped upward. Hot-white spots danced before my eyes. If I hadn’t been clutching the top of the door, chances are good I would have fallen.

  “Whoa,” Chet said, reaching out to steady me. “Are you all right? Jesus, Candace. Your skin is like ice.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Forgot to eat breakfast, that’s all. It’s just low blood sugar. Nothing to worry about.”

  Clenching my stomach muscles against the nausea sweeping through me, I climbed into my car.

  “You sure you’re okay to drive?” Chet insisted. “I could drop you wherever you need to go. You could come back for your car when you’re feeling better.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, summoning a smile. “Don’t worry.”

  “But I’m really good at that,” he protested.

  “I can see that,” I said. “Now stop. Go home. And thanks again. I really, really mean that.”

  Before he could get another word in, I put the key in the ignition, turned it, and brought the car to life. Chet stepped back as I put the car in gear and drove off. Just before I turned the corner, I glanced back in the rearview mirror. He was still standing in the street outside my house. Hands on hips, a puzzled, slightly worried expression on his face.

  I turned the corner, and he was lost to sight.

  Eight

  By the time I reached Ash’s house, my hands were shaking. My stomach was tied in knots. Even with my sunglasses on, the glare of the sun seemed to cut across my vision like a sword. I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. Before I had the car door halfway open, Ash was there, striding quickly toward me down the front walk. He caught my hand in his, slowly but firmly drawing me out of the car, then ushered me into the house. The second I felt its cool darkness envelop me, I began to feel better.

  Ash pulled me into his arms. “I was worried about you,” he murmured. “Where have you been? Why did you go out? You know it’s not good for you, Candace.”

  “You went out,” I managed. “Last night.”

  His arms tightened for a moment. I thought I could feel him consciously relax them.

  “Is that what this is? Tit for tat?”

  I gave a sigh. “Of course not. You have things to take care of. So do I. Now, I’ve done it. Now, I’m home.”

  He stepped back, slid a hand down my arm to hold mine, tugged me farther into the house.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  He reached to tilt my face toward him. “You should feed, Candace,”
he said quietly.

  “No,” I said at once, jerking my head back, out of his grasp. “Do you hear me, Ash? No. It’s taking a toll on you—don’t think I can’t tell. And I’m tired of being run by this. I want, I need, to take back some control.”

  “That’s not the way, Candace,” Ash said simply. “No vampire can entirely control the need for blood. It’s like human beings and oxygen. It’s what we need to survive.”

  “Well, I don’t need it right now.”

  I moved away then, with no clear sense of where I wanted to go. My body felt thick and sluggish, achy. My eyes were dry, my eyelids moving across them like sandpaper. I traveled no more than half a dozen steps before I swayed on my feet. I heard Ash move then, felt him lift me into his arms. I gripped him, tightly.

  “We’re not going to have a repeat performance of yesterday,” I said. “I’m not going to behave like an animal. Not again.”

  “Be quiet, Candace,” Ash said, but there was no heat in his voice. Swiftly, he began to move through the house. With a dim sense of surprise, I realized just how large it was, and how little of it I had taken the time to explore. All my time had been spent with Ash, in the bedroom we shared or out in the world I was learning how to inhabit. Now, room after room seemed to unfold around me like some intricate Chinese puzzle box.

  Ash reached a door, came to a stop. Since his arms were full of me, I leaned down to turn the knob. The door swung silently back, and I felt a current of soft, moist air flow across my face. In front of us, a flight of stairs plunged down. Ash took them, moving on sure feet in the semidarkness. The moisture in the air increased as we went lower. It smelled green, like growing things. I thought I heard the splash of water. I wasn’t sure if it was my exhausted senses or the lack of light, but it felt like a long way down.

  “Where are we going?” I inquired.

  “Someplace I think you’ll like.”

  We reached the bottom of the stairs. Ash set me on my feet, holding me close, then reached to one side. Slowly, as if he was twisting a dimmer switch, the room around us came to life. Before us was a deep pool, so large I couldn’t see its outer edges. They extended into the soft, moist darkness. But the corners I could see were lush with plants. Vines hung down from the ceiling. I thought I recognized the thick, broad leaves of banana trees. A vivid splash of color that could only be some kind of orchid. It’s a tropical paradise, I thought. Transported to the Las Vegas desert, then hidden underground like buried treasure.

  “The previous owner came from Hawaii,” Ash explained quietly. “This is the reason I bought this particular house. I think you’ll find this place will soothe you, Candace. It always does me.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t thank me yet,” Ash replied gravely. “It’s way too soon for that.”

  For the first time in what felt like days, I smiled. Ash was right. This place did make me feel better, even if I wasn’t quite sure why. Perhaps it was the moisture in the air, which seemed to give a strange, nurturing quality to the darkness, but I could feel my body’s discomfort begin to ease. The presence of water somehow drawing out the teeth of my terrible need.

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked.

  Ash leaned down, kissed me gently. “Let’s find out.”

  Hand in hand, we moved toward the water. But when I would have knelt to remove my shoes, I suddenly found that Ash was already kneeling before me. Easing my feet from my well-worn boots. He was already barefoot, I noticed.

  With the same deliberation, he curled his fingers beneath the edge of my T-shirt then drew it up and off. I felt a different stir of need now, both more and less complicated than my need for blood.

  His fingers traced my bra straps to the clasp in front, and I arched back as his quick hands freed my breasts to cup them. He bent his head, tongue dancing across one nipple as he pulled my breast deep inside his mouth. I felt both harden in a swift, hard jolt of want.

  “Ash,” I gasped out.

  I reached for his head, to urge his mouth to mine. He rolled his head within my grasp, as if to shake it loose, then turned his attention to my other breast. One arm circled my back like a band, holding me to him, holding me up.

  “Slowly, Candace,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”

  I let my head fall back as Ash’s mouth continued its explorations. He was moving languidly now, openmouthed across my flesh. Teeth scraping ever so slightly, his tongue swirling in great, slow strokes. I felt his hand move to the fastenings of my jeans, ease them open to slide the denim down. His mouth followed the path of his hands. Abruptly dizzy, I braced myself on his shoulders as he lifted first one leg, then the other, to draw the jeans away. His hands kneading my ass, gently, insistently. His mouth dancing across my belly, then moving inexorably down. The only thing between us was a thin triangle of silk. The second I felt Ash press his mouth against it, I cried out.

  He hooked a single finger into the waistband of the silk, then tugged it down. It skimmed down the length of my legs with a whisper. Ash’s mouth returned to the juncture of my thighs. As if in slow motion, I lifted one leg to step out of the panties. Ash caught my leg behind the knee, nestling it against his shoulder, broadening my stance even as he steadied me. I felt his tongue flick out. Dancing across my clit, then settling in to stroke. Moaning now, I threw my head back, taut breasts thrusting up. I ran my hands across them, feeling the hard roll of my own nipples beneath my flat palms, and heard Ash make a sound of approval, low in his throat.

  He released my leg, and I swayed on my feet. Quickly, Ash stood, then lifted me up into his arms. I put my own around his neck, leaned down, and ran my tongue along the length of his jaw, nipped with my teeth against his mouth. I felt it curve a fraction of a second before it opened to my insistent probing. Ash’s tongue met mine in a long, slow glide. The taste was tangy, ever so slightly exotic.

  That is my taste, I thought.

  He began to walk then, taking us both closer to the pool. When we reached it, he set me down. I felt warm water lap around my ankles, smooth and thick, like satin. I felt with my foot to make sure of the bottom, then stepped farther into the water, saw Ash’s flicker of surprise.

  Thought I’d just rip that shirt right off you, didn’t you? I thought, and smiled. Though, in all fairness, I did have something of a track record in that department. I continued moving backward. The water was at the top of my knees now. I let it reach the tops of my thighs before I spoke.

  “Since you’re so very good with clothes,” I said. “I think you should be the one to handle your own. You said you preferred not to rush? That’s all right. You can take your time.” I saw a flash of understanding, of appreciation, leap into his face. “Feel free to start whenever, and wherever, you’d like,” I went on. “I’m sure I can find some way to amuse myself in the meantime.”

  I ran my hands down the sides of my body till they plunged into the water. Then, leaving one beneath the surface, I slicked the other back up the front. I cupped one breast, thrusting the nipple toward him, as if in silent promise of reward. His eyes never leaving mine, Ash’s fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt cuffs. He loosed them, then slid the shirt’s front buttons from their buttonholes. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Beneath the shirt, his skin was bare. The finely wrought muscles of his pale chest glowed like alabaster in the dim light.

  I released my breast to slide my hand up my neck, exposing it as I lifted up my hair. I eased myself into the water until it reached my chin, then stood up suddenly, bringing the hand in the water up to join the other at the back of my head. Water sluiced down. At the sudden change in temperature, I felt my breasts tighten even more. Ash’s fingers were moving quickly now. Flicking open the button on his pants then easing down the zipper of his fly. With a sudden, almost brutal gesture, he pushed both his pants and underwear down, then stepped out of them. His cock leaped out, jutting proudly from his body, thick and long.

  “I
thought you wanted to go slow,” I said.

  “I changed my mind.”

  Ash made a sudden lunge, but I was ready for him. It was the obvious move, after all. Pushing backward out of range with a great whoosh of water, laughing as I heard him plunge in after me. I felt his fingers tangle with my toes. I kicked, sending water into his face, then stroked away. But Ash was quick. I felt one hand close around my ankle as, with a great yank, he pulled me toward him. I had time for one shout of laughter before the water closed over my head.

  I let the momentum of Ash’s gesture pull me through the water, down along the length of his body. I reached out to grasp his ass with both hands, gripped it tightly to stop my movement, then ran my tongue up along the length of his cock. His body gave a jerk.

  I grinned then, reveling in my own power. There were other aspects of our relationship where Ash was clearly the stronger. It had been that way from the very first moment we met. But when our bodies met in passion, we were equally matched in the strength of our desire. I made a second sweep up the length of his cock, scraping gently with my teeth this time, then took it into my mouth. I felt his body jerk again, his fingers reach to tangle in my hair as it spread out around my head beneath the water.

  I felt a great jolt of unexpected joy, of laughter, surge inside my chest. If I were human, I’d be giving serious consideration to a breath of air right about now. Instead, I was entirely free to devote my attentions to my lover.

  Ash’s hands were more insistent now, urging my head upward. After making very sure he knew what he’d be missing, I released my hold, slithered upward along his body, bursting through to the surface in a spray of water. I had time enough to shake the hair back from my face before Ash’s mouth found mine. Tongue jutting in to claim possession. His hands swept up my body, molding mine to his. I felt them reach my ass. He squeezed urgently then lifted me up. I spread my legs, wrapping them around his waist, pressing my crotch against his cock but refusing to take him inside. It seemed I wasn’t quite ready to give up the sensation of being the one in control.

 

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