by Ciana Stone
Constantine chuckled with them then sobered. “She bears information we need and will have. She is under my protection. When the time comes that I am confident of her loyalty, she will be welcomed into our midst as one of us.”
He did not wait for agreement. He would be obeyed. Pushing aside thoughts of enemies, plots and strategies, he hurried toward his bedchamber.
* * * * *
Resa’s sleep was troubled. She could feel Bram reaching out mentally for her, trying to find her. The part of her that had been a child at his feet, hanging on his every word and idolizing him, wanted to reach out to him. But the woman who’d been betrayed fought the child within, erecting a barrier of darkness, shielding herself from his questing mind.
She tossed and turned, coming out of sleep feeling angry and out of sorts. In the kind of mood that could only be dispelled by one of two things. Battle or sex.
As if in answer to her thought the door opened. Constantine stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Something in the way he moved, the tension in his body and hard glint in his eyes, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her nipples tighten.
He stalked over to the bed, stripping off his silk jacket and tossing it carelessly to the floor. “You should be sleeping.”
“I’m not sleepy,” she replied as casually as possible considering the tension pouring off him in waves and the hot need that burned inside her.
His brow furrowed and suddenly it dawned on her. He’d used his ability to make her sleep. “Oh I get it. I shouldn’t have been able to overcome your sleep suggestion? Sorry, I guess the Vamp—oops, D’Harahn powers aren’t one hundred percent effective on me.”
His jaw tightened at the taunt but he smiled coldly. “We have unfinished business, Dhampir.”
Annoyance flared at the scorn he placed in the word. “Careful, Vampyre. As your own people said, we’re more alike than not.”
“You enjoy inciting anger, don’t you, huntress?” He reached out and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her knees on the bed.
She paid no mind to the sheets sliding down her body, revealing her nudity. Her rage broke through the surface, fueling her with energy. “Hands off!” She grabbed his wrist, digging her fingertips into the vulnerable pressure points hard enough to break his grip, and rolling away to come to a standing position on the opposite side of the bed as he made another grab for her.
“As I told you, there’s a price for knowledge,” he said in a voice that was a heady mixture of seduction and danger.
“And as I recall, I saved your hide, so I’d say I’m paid in full,” she taunted. “So why don’t we get back to where you left off in your story before we were interrupted.”
He started around the bed toward her, his steps smooth and sure, like a great cat on the prowl, stalking its prey. “I think not. First you submit then you learn the truths you seek.”
Resa despised the burst of hunger his words precipitated inside her. Hated the way she longed to give in to him, submit to whatever he wanted from her. She did not submit. To anyone. No matter how much she might want it. It just wasn’t in her nature.
“Sorry, baby,” she crooned in a seductive tone, watching him move around the corner of the bed. “Submission isn’t my style.”
“You lie,” he said with a knowing smile. “You long for it, Resa. Even now your body burns for it. See how your nipples pucker with anticipation and your sex weeps?”
She snorted and dove across the bed as he suddenly lunged at her. “Like I said, submission isn’t my style.”
Constantine growled. Actually growled as she backed away from the bed. He leapt across it as easily as a child playing hopscotch, landing lightly on his feet in front of her. “Then perhaps it is time you were taught a new style.”
She laughed in his face, thrilling to the danger that shimmered around him. “You think you’re man enough? Then bring it on.”
One quick hiss was all the warning she received before he attacked, the back of his hand impacting the side of her face hard enough to send her reeling sideways.
She recovered faster than he anticipated, based on the surprised look in his eyes when she came at him, pivoting into a kick that caught him dead center of his chest.
It had less effect than she would have wanted, but it did force him to take a step back. He grinned and for a moment she felt a shimmer of fear. Suddenly his eye teeth were elongated, like the canines of a great wolf, and his eyes shone with an unearthly red hue as if awash with diluted blood.
“Nice try,” she panted out the words between blows. “But I can do that too.”
She grinned at him, knowing he’d see the same sharp teeth and red eyes he’d tried to intimidate her with. It was an ability she’d received more than one beating for displaying as a child. Bram had warned her that any resemblance to the Vampyres had to be suppressed or the Alliance might have cause to fear and mistrust her.
Constantine didn’t seem particularly surprised. He grinned and came at her. She laughed in the delight of battle, a wild sound that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with passion and hunger, kinetic energy that had to be released or destroy her.
Here was the beast she knew, one like all the others she’d tracked and battled. Now she was in her element. Furniture was knocked over and broken, window shattered and priceless objets d’art obliterated. Around the room they fought, their breath coming hard and fast, sweat making her body slick and his clothing cling to him.
Time went unnoticed. All that existed for her was the fight. She’d never met an opponent so strong or so skilled. Most of her attacks were outmaneuvered, her blows absorbed. But still she pressed, forcing him to defend against her unending assault.
On and on they battled until finally he slammed her against a wall, pinning her hands over her head, his legs securely between hers so that his erection ground against her wet sex through the damp fabric of his slacks.
“You can’t win,” he breathed in her face.
“Neither can you,” she gasped and wound her legs around him, beating at the backs of his knees with her heels to try to make him fall.
“I already have,” he whispered and lowered his mouth to hers, pressing that hard mass of maleness against her sex and shattering what little control was left to her.
With a groan deep in her throat she worked her hand between their bodies and into his pants to fist him.
Constantine continued his assault on her mouth but released her hands to unfasten his pants. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him bare and hot against her sex.
His chest pressed against her, pinning her more firmly to the wall. Resa knew what was coming and welcomed it. The fight had stirred her blood to damn near boiling point.
Constantine’s hand moved down to pry her hand away from his erection. Winding both hands with hers, he spread her arms out wide, holding them locked against the wall.
Resa’s legs tightened around his waist, her sex grinding against the length of that glorious hard shaft pressing against her.
His mouth closed on hers again in a kiss that was as savage as it was passionate.
“In me,” she moaned against his mouth. “Get in me.”
He freed one hand to guide himself to her wet opening. One hard push and he was fully seated inside her. Resa gasped at the size of him but even that moment of pain couldn’t stop her from rocking her pelvis against him.
Constantine growled and pounded against her, in and out, fast and hard, reclaiming his grip on her hand to keep her pinned against the wall. Resa burned for all he could give and that burn only got hotter and more intense. And with the increasing heat came more speed.
The groan that rumbled up from deep in his chest had her banging her head back against the wall, her hands tensing into claws that longed to rake the length of his back.
“Oh fuck,” she panted as the first wave began to crest. “Oh!”
His voice was like sandpaper, hot and raspy. “S
ay it. Say my name. Tell me how much you want me.”
“I—want—it!” As much as she longed to comply, she could not bring herself to cry his name. It was more surrender than she could muster. “Oh now. Now, now, now!”
A cry of protest was ripped from her when he suddenly stopped and his grip on her released. “Noooo!”
He gave her a smile sexy enough to spike her blood pressure and pinned her hard against the wall again. She tilted her pelvis against him, the rocking motion providing an erotic scrape of the thick hair at the base of his shaft against her clit.
She wound her arms around his neck, fisting his hair to pull him to her. The moment their lips met, he curled his spine, the motion tilting her higher against the wall so that his pelvis was firmly beneath her.
She moaned into his mouth as he rammed fully inside her. His muscular chest crushed against hers, plastering her against the wall in near breath-stopping pressure, signaling that he had her just where he wanted her. And that was fine with her.
Resa wrapped her legs more firmly around his waist and rode him, meeting his thrusts eagerly. Her breath came shallow and quick as he pumped inside her. Every nerve in her body was tingling and her sex was about to burst into flames at the heat building inside her. The angle of entry and his generously endowed manhood had her stretched to the limit.
There was no way for her to stem her groans or stop the vibration in her belly from radiating out to take control of her body.
“Oh god…oh god…don’t…stop.”
Her gasped plea seemed to have the same effect as a red flag to a bull because he pounded so hard that her body slapped the wall in a rapid rhythm.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes!” she screamed and reared her head back, pulling his head against her.
When she felt his mouth fasten on her neck, licking then sucking, she moaned, not caring what came next. Let him leave a hickey as dark as night for all she cared. Release was so close, orgasm pressing in ever nearer, making her oblivious to all but the sublime sensation.
Constantine growled, grabbed her ass in both hands, lifting and spreading her more, his stance widening to allow him to ram harder and faster inside her.
“Resa,” he whispered against her skin a moment before she felt a stab of pain in her neck. For a moment she wondered if he was going to leave a permanent bruise. Then the pain vanished, replaced with the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever known that spread through her body like a drug.
“Yes. Constantine, yes.” There was no more doubt, no question. She was his, being carried on a wave of pleasure, heedless to all else but the sensations he evoked. “More, more.”
Her gasps provoked him to push deeper and harder and she took it, welcomed it, exulted in it as it carried her ever closer to that precipice. And then she fell into that chasm where nothing else mattered, where everything else faded and exquisite pleasure reigned.
His body twitched and tightened. Sweat-slicked skin met in slaps, rapid and hard, her body slamming into the wall in a quick cadence. Breath came in harsh gasps. Resa’s fingers tightened into claws in his long hair as his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass.
A groan rumbled up from his chest as he climaxed. His mouth tightened on her neck, the pain intensifying into an unbelievable sensation of pleasure she’d never imagined.
She clung to him, sensing him with her in that endless vortex of pleasure. At length his tempo slowed, his strokes lengthening to take her slow and steady. Her sex clenched around him as the climax diminished. She drew in a long shuddering breath and another orgasm hit.
“Oh god…” Her hands moved to his shoulders, digging into the firm flesh. “Constant—”
His mouth drowned out the rest as he abandoned her neck and took her lips prisoner, searing her with a kiss that had her lips throbbing and burning in equal measure to the burn of her nether lips.
When at last the climax abated, he drew back, his eyes hooded and dark. She moved one hand up to trace the side of his face, feeling a swell of emotion when his eyes closed at her touch and he leaned into it, an expression of longing and tenderness on his face that had tears threatening her eyes.
Her thumb stroked down over his lips. And that’s when she noticed the stain. She lifted her hand to see better in the darkness. Her eyes widened and went from her hand to his eyes.
“Blood?” she whispered.
He did not respond and a heat rose in her that had nothing to do with lust. She grabbed his wrists and pried them from her as she unwound her legs and slid down the wall to a standing position. Her hand moved to her neck and withdrew.
She took one look, balled up her fist and slugged him in the jaw. “You fucking Vampyre! You bit me!”
Chapter Six
Journal Entry
As time passed, the societies on all three of our worlds reached a measure of stability. An uneasy treaty was formed between the three peoples. The Nurians controlled the flow of pyrithium, the Valians, the supply of oltuck and lirma, and the D’Harahn controlled all of the old knowledge—knowledge of machines and technology that was forgotten over time to the worlds of Nuria and Valia.
Being Pureblood, un-mutated V’Karian, the D’Harahn ruled the central government of the star system. Headed by the Emperor, the day-to-day governing was left much in the hands of the Tribunal, a body composed of twelve men. The Emperor and his heir claimed the first two chairs, followed by eight men of D’Harahn, the most powerful of the continent, each the ruler of a kinship or city, controlling some aspect of science or technology. Of the remaining two members, one came from Nuria and one from Valia, ambassadors with the power to speak for their people. This body was known as the J’Zhan. In time it became the most feared force in our star system. The Nurian and Valian people did not support the percentage of D’Harahn as opposed to Nurian and Valian, but could not voice too strident a complaint. For there was one other thing that the D’Harahn controlled—they controlled the most devastating weapons in our system.
For a time Shadallah was an opulent jewel. There the wealthy and powerful were pampered and indulged. They guarded their indulgences jealously. Only those Nurian and Valian who worked as slaves to the D’Harahn ever saw the grandeur of the great capital of Shadallah, the great coliseums and museums, the theaters and libraries and temples, gleaming like works of white marble art.
The Nurian people were the first to complain of the D’Harahn yoke. It was one of the most radical changes in the evolution of that race. From a passive, non-aggressive people, they evolved into a race of warriors. Those who ruled did so by fear and strength. They were the strongest, the most brutal. Nuria was ruled by a Praetor, who selected a Council from the most loyal and most lethal of the other families or regions. The Praetor recalled their ambassador from Shadallah, demanding that he voice strong demands in exchange for an uninterrupted flow of pyrithium. Nuria wanted what Shadallah had. The D’Harahn were withholding technology that would enable the Nurians to make great strides in conquering the harsh, arid climate of their continent.
The Valians were just as unhappy with the balance of power, but they were a non-aggressive people, preferring the bargaining table to the battlefield. They urged their ambassador to negotiate for the relaxation of export laws so that Valia could buy the necessary equipment, tools and technology from Shadallah. Valia was ruled by a Chieftain, the head of the oldest and largest kinship, with his son as second in power who presided over a cabinet of eleven elected representatives from all of Valia.
What neither the Nurian nor Valian people could have anticipated was how seduced by luxury their ambassadors would become. But the life of power and wealth was too seductive and the ambassadors switched loyalty from their own people to the J’Zhan.
Then, in the midst of the uproar over lack of representation came the realization—where were the children? How long had it been since a child was born on any of the worlds of V’Kar? For a time all energy was focused on the answer to that question. It was Azarth, Prime Minister of Science
and Medicine, who verified what all feared. Not only had all the remaining worlds of V’Kar been stricken with a form of radiation sickness that was systematically decreasing the population, but V’Kar had lost its ability to reproduce. In the time that had passed, three generations should have been born.
The D’Harahn set all their energy to discovering a way to correct the problem. If they could find a way to cure the sickness caused by the cosmic radiation and also find a way to reproduce, then eventually V’Kar would be inhabited by the Pureblood again. In time all Nurian and Valian would die off and the system could be set to right again.
And so all communication stopped. The mood was ripe for revolution.
Constantine lay the pen aside and closed the journal. Occupying himself with a recount of the history of his people was not freeing his mind from what troubled him. Resa.
Nothing could stop her from leaving when she discovered he’d bitten her. Nothing could convince her that he had not lied, that Vampyres were nothing more than a label invented by man to try to explain his kind.
He’d almost admitted the truth to her. That he’d lost control and committed an act that was as deadly to him as to her. When he bit her, tasted her essence, he released something of himself into her. It was an act of binding, a ritual of mating as old as V’Kar, and something that stemmed from the most primitive parts of his race.
That he’d committed such an act horrified him. She was a mutant, a half-breed that would never be accepted by the Royal Family. He could not take her as consort or wife for her blood was not pure. And yet, in his passion, in his need for her, he’d bound himself irrevocably to her.
Why then could he not sense her?
Constantine was unaccustomed to worry and certainly had never fretted over a woman. The fact that his people had been unable to locate her for the last three days and he could not sense her filled him with a sensation he’d never before experienced. Anxiety. He did not like it. Didn’t like the gnawing in his gut, or not being able to sleep or food lacking taste.