“My intent makes a difference. You really believe that’s true?”
She smiled, attempting to radiate confidence and encouragement. “I do.”
He brushed her bottom lip with a gentle finger. “Then you’re a fool.” His voice was soft as he stroked a path along her cheek. His words were difficult to concentrate on with him so close, his cool fingers leaving tingles on her skin in their wake.
“Why?” she asked, voice husky.
“Because the bloodlust won’t allow for sacred intentions,” he said against her lips, before his mouth closed over hers, rough and demanding. She sank into him. Unbidden, her hand came up and slid into his shirt. She stroked his bare skin. He felt cool, toned, and smooth. When her fingertip brushed against his nipple, eliciting from him a silky moan, she forgot all about theories and intentions.
He encircled her with his arms. One palm caressed her back, while the other hand pulled at her twisted hair. The curls sprang free, and his fingers threaded through them. He leaned into her, and took possession of her mouth with a deep kiss. The soft tip of his tongue delved deep to stroke over hers.
Her breath quickened as he explored her body with his hands. He traced lightly up her neck and made little circles behind her ear before trailing down again. Tegonni’s skin tingled with the subtle sensation. He toyed with the buttons on her blouse before unfastening them.
He kissed a trail down her throat and sucked at the flesh where shoulder met neck. She jumped and groaned at the same time. Adrenaline flooded her heart as dampness flooded her panties. She thought he was going to bite and dug nails into his chest in apprehension and eagerness. He chuckled, a low sound that made her quiver.
He pulled away, lips lusciously wet. “Someone’s coming,” he said. Her brain had hardly registered the information when Fernando swept her up and carried her off to a side door.
When he set her down, his lips claimed hers again as he backed her into a room. Or rather, a closet as the space was very small. She heard the door click as he shut it, cutting off all but the dimmest of light. His eyes held a silvery incandescence with his amber shining behind. His power was upon him. Her breath caught. He was unsettling, but beautiful.
“Shall I stop?”
Even like this she didn’t fear him. She went with her desire. “No.”
“Tell me when you change your mind.” He seemed certain that she would.
His magic prickled deliciously along her skin. Then it sank into her and touched her soul. She flinched, and panic pushed against the pleasant tingle of his magic. The caress on her soul was unexpected and a bit disturbing. Hellspawn and human souls rarely made a happy combination. But this was Fernando. She resisted rising doubt. “Fernando?”
“I won’t hurt you.”
She was herself, her spirit intact. As his essence filled her, it drew energy from her and brightened. Yet she didn’t feel drained. She was the sun, and Fernando basked in her light. Her fear eased, though she realized the truth. “The human soul is what really sustains vampires.”
“Tell me to stop.” His tone was plaintive.
She wasn’t wrong about him. “I trust you. Don’t stop.”
He pushed her against the wall and ravished her neck, but with lips, not fangs. He sucked at her tender flesh, moving down as his hands pulled at one cup of her bra and exposed her breast. He bathed her nipple with his tongue, then sucked as much of the breast into his mouth as he could. A spark of pleasure shot through her, and Tegonni groaned.
The clack of shoes on tile sounded near the door. She startled and tried to control her heavy breathing. Fernando wasn’t helping. He pulled her leg over his hip. Pressing against her, he rubbed the bulge of his erection between her legs. Even with their slacks—and her wet panties—between them, her clit pulsed on contact. He continued to grind until pressure built low in her belly. She couldn’t hold back a soft moan.
The footsteps outside paused. “Hello?” Father Morgan.
Flushing with embarrassment, she smothered her gasps against Fernando’s chest. The cruel man had not stilled his hips at the sound of the father’s voice. After a moment, the priest moved away, and Tegonni exhaled, leaning her head back against the wall as she continued to quiver with aftershocks.
Dim light shined in a latticework pattern across Fernando’s smirking face, and she realized where they were.
One of the confessionals.
Holy crap!
Embarrassment claimed her as she came back to her senses. This wanton display posed only a small problem for her spiritual sensibilities. One of many things she’d gained from earth religions was a healthy view of sexuality. Also, the Lephiri, not in the habit of spying, and not having a human view of sin and punishment, wouldn’t be offended. They didn’t work that way. However, Father Morgan and his parishioners might feel differently.
She gave Fernando a frown. He had to see such behavior as being abominably sinful. She set her clothes to rights. “How could you do that in here?”
His poker face cracked a bit. Then she understood. This was part of his bid to show her what a horrible, sinful vampire he was.
She pushed against him, trying to get past. “This is ridiculous. You can’t escape being a good person any more than you can escape being a bloodborn vampire.” His chest was like a brick wall. “Move. We owe Father Morgan an apology.”
His hand, which had caressed moments before, turned into a fist, clutching her jaw. Dull fingernails dug into the meat of her cheeks as he snarled in her face. Light glinted off his bared fangs. “You are too trusting. I could drain you dry right now. You are helpless to stop me.”
Pulse leaping in her throat, Tegonni stared at him with what she hoped were calm eyes as she fought an inner battle with her panic. Every survival instinct told her she was about to die. Jaime was right. I never should have trusted him!
She still did, however. Despite the overwhelming evidence at the moment that she shouldn’t. “I don’t trust vampires. I trust you. I have faith in you, Fernando.”
He dropped his hand as his eyes went wide. Stumbling backward out of the confessional, he covered his face with his hands. Tegonni saw one lone tear fall before he hid the rest.
“What did I do?”
She approached him gingerly. “You lashed out. Like people often do when they are confused and in pain.”
He lifted his face. Anguish filled it. “That’s no excuse. I dishonored you and defiled the sanctuary.”
She frowned. Defiled was a strong word. Mildly soiled perhaps. Her cheeks heated again as she realized she wasn’t as sorry as maybe she should be. The naughtiness of making out in the confessional was seriously hot. She decided Fernando was unlikely to admit to that.
“I cannot make this offense up to you, senhorita. I dearly wish I was worthy of your faith.” He bowed, then disappeared in a blink, the heavy entrance door lumbering shut behind him.
“Dr. Ellis?” Father Morgan had appeared near the front of the sanctuary. “Was that Fernando? What’s going on?”
Tegonni didn’t know where to begin. Explaining the night’s events to the priest would not be fun. She sighed. “Father, I have a confession to make, but ah, not in the confessional, okay?”
Chapter Ten
Sitting at the table in the rectory’s small kitchen, Tegonni tapped her heel as she swirled the untouched tea in her cup. She didn’t dare meet Father Morgan’s eyes. He’d been silent during her tactful review of the evening.
Finally, he said, “Well, I understand why you didn’t want to go in the confessional.”
She winced.
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Tegonni, you and Fernando aren’t the first to tarnish the sanctum of a confessional. I have to worry more about teenagers, but I’ve caught a couple of adults.”
“I’m so sorry, Father.”
“Good, but I’m sure heaven is strong enough to recover.”
Humbled, she said, “Of course.” What, was the church going to crumble to the ground just
because she’d made out in it? Her world, though, was a different matter. She’d gotten the impression from Fernando’s last words to her that he didn’t intend to see her again.
“My concern is why Fernando, given his traditional religious beliefs, would do such a thing.”
“He’s trying to get me to give up on him. Prove what a horrible person he must be because he was born a vampire.” Her lower lip trembled. Somehow, she’d screwed up. All the progress she’d helped Fernando make over the past several weeks seemed to come undone tonight.
Father Morgan patted her hand. “I know the frustration. He can’t get past what he was born as, to see the man he is.” He looked thoughtful as he took a sip from his teacup. “I think his actions tonight were an attempt to find out what you really thought of him rather than to push you away.”
She furrowed her brow. “And I surprised him by actually having faith in him?”
“Very likely.”
She saw a shred of hope dangling in front of her and clung to it. “Maybe if I show him my faith is still unshaken, even after having time to process what happened tonight, he can take a step toward having faith in himself.”
“Perhaps. He is stubborn, but it’s worth a try. You don’t have much time, however.”
She was thinking aloud more than to the father as she continued. “He won’t put off taking communion for much longer. Especially after tonight.” She supported her head with her hands as it spun with thoughts. “And now the Lephiri have agreed to his special request.” She paused, then looked at Father Morgan. He’d sounded certain time was running out, not like he guessing. “What don’t I know?”
“I was informed about the request being granted…and told Fernando.”
A chill went through her.
“I received the guidance in prayer this afternoon to give Fernando the Eucharist, and that Heaven would bless him with Holy Fire. I told him tonight before you arrived. He was pleased and set the ceremony for Sunday evening.”
Tegonni’s chest felt so heavy, she could hardly breathe. “I have to stop it.” Her voice faded to a whisper as she said, “I can’t lose him.”
“Dr. Ellis, I fervently hope you find a way. However, please keep in mind he has suffered for years. Don’t ask him to continue. Even for the gift of your love.”
Startled by the truth, she stared at him, and then she nodded. “I won’t ask him to stay for me. But if my love is a good enough reason for him to choose to, I want to tell him.” Would it be? Even if he felt the same?
“Fair enough. I suggest you leave it for this evening. Give him time to calm down.” He held up a hand as Tegonni opened her mouth to protest. She didn’t want Fernando to stew in his self-depreciating juices. “I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll tell him you still have faith in him.”
“Thank you, Father.” She pushed away the full teacup and stood.
He gave a reassuring smile and walked her to the entrance of the rectory. “My prayers are with both of you. I believe Fernando shares your feelings.”
She turned and stared.
The priest chuckled and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Love is powerful medicine. Remember that.” He stepped back and wished her a good night as he closed the door.
* * * *
For two days her messages went unanswered by Fernando. She was a wreck. On Saturday evening she was both surprised and relieved to receive a call from him inviting her for dinner at his apartment. He avoided deep conversation on the phone, saying he preferred to wait until they were face-to-face. She played through numerous possible outcomes of her confrontation with Fernando. He’d reject her. He’d postpone the ceremony. He’d declare his love, calling himself a fool for wanting to die. He’d refuse to see her. Her emotions twisted like a roller coaster along with the various scenarios. Despair, hope, joy, defeat. High-strung, she walked through the lobby of his apartment building toward the front desk. At least I look good.
She’d been nervous enough that picking an outfit had been an act of self-torture. Admitting defeat, she’d called Nat over to do it for her. He’d wanted to take her shopping, but she refused to buy some designer clothes that would normally never grace the inside of her closet. The flyaway white miniskirt came from her seldom-worn collection of party clothes along with the copper high-heeled sandals.
The top she couldn’t remember ever seeing before, though Nat insisted he’d bought it for her last Christmas. She suspected he’d sneaked it into her wardrobe while she obsessed over her hair in the bathroom, but couldn’t be sure since her closet was a mess. A mosaic print of white, copper, and purple, the fabric clung to her waist and breasts while baring one arm and shoulder. The one asymmetric sleeve hung loose and short. She’d balked at his choice at first, but he was right. Looking great gave her a boost of confidence.
“Hi,” she said to the concierge. “I’m here to see Mr. Amaral.” She fought the urge to fidget as she waited for the woman to look through some papers.
“Dr. Tegonni Ellis?”
Tegonni smiled. “Yes.”
The cheerful woman exuded friendliness. “Such a pretty name. You can go down this hallway and take the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Amaral’s penthouse is to the right.”
After thanking her, Tegonni walked down the opulent hallway with its chandeliers and wall art, careful not to snag her heels in the plush carpeting. Feeling a bit self-conscious amidst all the luxury, she stepped into the occupied elevator. She stood next to a dark-haired young woman in a flowy dress, which barely covered her ass. Delicate and lacy, it no doubt cost half of Tegonni’s annual salary.
The girl studied her up and down. Her eyes sparkled when she zeroed in on Tegonni’s top. “Is that Versace? I’m sure I saw it on the runway in Milan last month.”
Tegonni glanced down at herself. “Ah, I don’t know. It was a gift.”
“Well, keep that friend around. They have excellent taste.” She breezed out on the twenty-fourth floor, and Tegonni stared after her. Well, that confirmed her suspicion about the true origins of Nat’s gift. She supposed she should be glad he’d picked an ensemble that made her blend, but this was not the kind of place she’d imagined Fernando choosing to live. Her nerves frazzled anew, she peeked out of the elevator on the fiftieth floor, wondering what other surprises he had in store.
This hall was wider than the one downstairs and just as elegantly decorated. In front of the elevator, a large mirror hung on the wall. Below it stood a polished wooden console table with fresh, colorful flowers arranged in a bouquet. She read the two discrete plaques fitted to the wall on either side. The left read Eben, and the right said Amaral. Here we go.
When she stepped out of the elevator and headed right, a man walked toward her from the end of the hallway. Short, but stocky, he had rich-amber skin darker than hers and narrow eyes that spoke of Asian ancestry. His suit appeared tailored, but nondescript.
He smiled, revealing fangs. “Dr. Ellis. A pleasure to see you again.” He looked vaguely familiar. Someone she’d seen lingering around Fernando at the hotel, but he hadn’t been introduced. Ah, his driver.
“Thank you.” She shook his offered hand.
“We haven’t officially met. I’m Phil Lawson, Fernando’s head of security.”
She nearly stumbled. Nat’s Phil? A demon hunter? “I thought you were just a driver for the hotel.”
With a chuckle, he shook his head. “I don’t work for the hotel, ma’am. I’m personal security. Council-assigned bodyguard.” Tegonni couldn’t respond. She definitely hadn’t been expecting any of this. Phil spread an arm toward a set of double doors and desk at the end of the hall. “Please, this way. Fernando is waiting for you.”
Preceding him down the hall, she half expected it to shrink and end at a three-foot door. She felt like Alice in Wonderland. His job as hotel manager was probably cushy, but this had to be beyond his means. And a bodyguard from the Council? She’d assumed he lived outside of Clan politics, in some nice modest condo somewhere. This p
lace, however, indicated he was very much involved. “And why the need for security?”
“He’s bloodborn. They are royalty among us. He can’t wander about unprotected. Chicago is wild land for us—no governorship—so rival clans are always a threat. But don’t worry. With the human guards and wards against magic, we’re pretty safe.”
She assimilated the information with a slow nod. She’d known bloodborns, due to low birthrates, were less numerous than vampires who used to be human. However, she hadn’t known they were a superior caste. It made sense, but would mean the Council would not take Fernando’s desire to die well.
Phil continued. “I suppose this is part of what he’s trying to escape.” He paused as they reached the door and looked at her with hopeful eyes. “He’s talked a lot about you, Dr. Ellis. I hope you can talk him out of his plans. He’s an admirable man, and we’d all miss him.”
She inclined her head. Mild dizziness hit her as realizations whirled. He’d told Phil. And others. People who cared about him. Vampires who cared. Never once in the whole time they’d been meeting had she ever bothered to ask if he had friends among the vampire community. People he’d miss and who’d be hurt if he died. He’d suffered more than she’d known. His integrity leading him to a decision that would pain people he cherished.
Looking at Phil, she saw a worried friend. Not evil hellspawn. He wasn’t different than Fernando. Was he an exception too? Or was what she was coming to believe true? That vampires, though cursed, were no more predisposed to wrongdoing than any human.
When Phil opened the doors, Tegonni ignored the stunning view of the city through the window in the entry hall. She was too focused on Fernando standing before it, hair stylishly tossed and looking dashing in cool summer linen fit to reveal the long, toned lines of his body. The shirt was thin enough to give the illusion of being sheer. She imagined she could make out the darker circles of his nipples, and her sex tightened in appreciation.
She took in his demeanor, hands in pockets and worry lines etching his face, and her heart stuttered. Did he fear her rejection? She could do nothing but follow her instincts. She ran to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace, wishing all his sorrows away.
Counselor of the Damned Page 10