by Wendy Stone
"No. N-O. Which one of those letters are you having problems with?"
He turned away, searching through the bag he carried and pulling out a sheet of paper as well as taking that time to let the sting of her words wash away. His professionalism restored, he handed her the sheet. “Then I need you to sign here. This just says that you refused medical treatment. Just remember, if you get dizzy or nauseous, you will want to get to either your doctor or an emergency room. Concussions are nothing to fool with, Miss Taylor."
"Fine,” Terry said, taking the page with a shaky hand. Her signature looked nothing like her usual crisp and concise writing. She crossed her t's and handed it back, rising off the couch. Turning back to the cop, she crossed her arms in front of her, one side of her tank drooping from the broken strap, exposing the rounded top curve of her breast.
"Are you done with me yet?"
"We'll need you to come down and file a statement,” Jennings said.
"Great, I'll be there in the morning. Now if you'd finish getting this filth out of my home...” Her voice shook, belaying the tough look in her eyes and the strength of her stance. She was holding on by a thread. Seeing her best friend change into a panther was hard enough, but then getting attacked by the same men who had tried to rape Marissa and getting beaten up by the cat bitch from hell was just more than she wanted to take.
She stood firm, watching as the cops dragged the men from her apartment. Some of them were blubbering, talking about the strange cats or the silver animal that no one could identify. Three of the men were sullen, one glaring at her as he was walked past, his eyes meeting hers, the threat in them obvious.
"Don't worry, they'll be going away for a very long time,” Jennings said softly. With your statement and the witnesses, I don't think we'll have a problem getting them convicted. We have a very good ADA. Antoinette Alexandros is a bulldog when it comes to these cases."
"Alexandros?” Terry asked, her eyes skipping over Jennings and finding Lucinda's who smiled and nodded slightly. “I bet she is."
* * * *
"Can you still feel his essence in you?"
It was the first thing that Nashe had said since he'd flown out of the parking lot of Terry's apartment building, taking the turn on two tires amidst her shriek of protest.
"I-I don't know,” she said honestly, holding onto Lukah's body, his head resting in her lap, his legs curled up against the back of the seat to fit him in the small backseat of the Mustang. “How do I tell?"
Nashe glanced at her in his rear view mirror. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Think of Lukah, of your love for him and everything it means to you. Then exhale, very slowly. You should find that spark then if he is still with you. If this is to work, Marissa, you must find that spark."
Marissa nodded, closing her eyes, clearing her mind of everything even as the squeal of brakes sounded in her ears. She refused to look, trusting this strange man with her life as well as that of his cousin's. Taking a deep breath, she held it, pictures of Lukah flashing through her mind, a warmth of love filling her body even as the sorrow and the fear were pushed out. She remembered so much, so many little things that she'd never even thought of before.
The touch of his hand as he'd helped her off the chair, his gentleness as he'd held her, his care and the laughter in his eyes, the passion and the way he'd swept her into it, bringing her pleasure like no other; all were Lukah. Slowly letting out the breath she'd taken, she suddenly felt that spark, that tiny essence of Lukah that still lived inside of her.
"I've got it,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
She heard Nashe's sigh of relief and smiled. But as she did, that spark seemed to grow dimmer as if receding away from her. “No!” she cried. “It's going away."
"You have to hang onto it, Marissa. Use your love for him to hold it inside of you. If you let go of that essence, Lukah will be truly dead.” Nashe's words were uttered in a harsh tone of fear that sent a surge of terror through her.
"Okay, okay,” she muttered and took another deep breath, opening her eyes to look down into Lukah's still face. “I love you,” she whispered, keeping the spark in her mind's eye. “But if you want us to be together, you have to fight to stay with me no matter where you are now. So do it, Lukah. Fight to stay with me, fight for us. Please.” She stroked his face with gentle hands, letting the heat of her love flow over her and him. In her mind the spark pulsed, dimming once then glowing brighter, its light growing stronger.
"Now,” Nashe said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small jack knife. He unfolded the blade while driving with his knee, holding the blade out to her from the front seat. “You've got to cut your wrist and hold it to his mouth. Your blood must drip into his mouth, do you understand?"
She didn't dare breath too hard for fear of the spark of his essence disappearing, but the squeamish side of her nature wanted to protest this idea vehemently. Instead, she reached for the knife. Taking it and holding the blade to her wrist, she slashed. The cut filled quickly with blood, welling over the edges of her flesh and running off in small rivulets. She held it to his mouth, pushing down on his chin with the hand that still held the knife. “I'm doing it,” she whispered.
"Good,” Nashe said. “Really good."
A sudden and unexpected heat slid over her body, a feeling of lust, of love, of need surrounding her in a way she'd never felt before. Her body quivered like the string of a bow as it releases an arrow, goose flesh moving over her skin. She felt on fire, the now familiar tingle of the beginning of the change tickling at the base of her spine.
"Nashe,” she called out helplessly, frightened by all she was feeling.
"It's all right, Marissa. It's great, no, a damn sight better than great. This is fan-fucking-tastic. Don't stop."
Her head fell back, the spark of his essence growing and flooding inside of her, building until she could barely breathe. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she missed seeing Lukah's hands clench and then open. But she couldn't miss when he reached up, grabbing her hand and holding her wrist to his mouth.
"Lukah?” she moaned, looking down at him.
He dropped her hand after licking off the small amount of blood left on her skin. His hand lifted, curling his fingers around the nape of her neck, drawing her down. “Marissa,” he moaned only seconds before her lips covered his.
He tasted wild. Beyond the coppery flavor of blood there was a hint of savagery that made her even hungrier. She dug her hand into his hair, feeling it flow over her skin, caressing it as if the strands were alive and needed to touch her as much as he did.
His hands were on her body, caressing her, grasping, pulling her closer. The tie of her robe pulled open, the sides pulled apart by his hands and she could feel him touching her intimately. His hands were hot, scorching against her breasts. He squeezed gently and she gasped, her back arching into him.
He tore his mouth from hers, his breathing harsh, his eyes glowing amber as he looked down at her. “Is this what you want?” he whispered roughly.
"To have you alive? Yes,” she muttered, her fingers stroking over his face and into his hair, drawing his mouth back to her.
"No,” he hissed, pulling away. “No, to be mated to me, Rissa. Do you want to be my mate until the end of our days?"
She searched his eyes, seeing in the beautiful golden gaze all that she could hope for in a man. He loved her. She could see the care, the gentleness and the joy he felt at being with her. His touch upon her skin was pure bliss. Marissa closed her eyes for a moment, looking into her future. When she opened them, she smiled. “Yes,” she said simply.
His answering grin was all encompassing and he pulled her up and into his arms.
"It's about time,” Nashe growled from the front seat. “Now, I'll take you two home so you can finish the ritual, and go and check on your friend Terry. Then I'm going home to bed.” He smiled into the rearview mirror before his eyes went back to the road.
* * * *
&n
bsp; Lukah pulled her robe gently closed as Nashe pulled into the driveway. They climbed out of the car, Lukah glancing at the lights that were still on in the house.
"Now you two, go right in to bed,” Nashe said, grinning at his cousin.
Lukah smiled. “Thank you, cousin,” he said quietly, reaching in and shaking Nashe's hand. “You saved me."
"Marissa saved you,” Nashe said. “Not me."
"She wouldn't have been able to without you. Now shut up and accept my thanks."
"Tell you what, cousin. You sell me Abstract and we'll consider it even.” Nashe looked up at his favorite cousin, not willing to let him see the hope in his eyes. He'd been thinking about this forever, owning the restaurant, making it his in ways that Lukah would never understand. Not just his food, his kitchen, but the whole thing, his. The thought had an excitement leaping in his veins that was almost sexual.
"I'll give it to you,” Lukah said, waving his hand. “You deserve it."
"No! I don't want it as a gift, Luc. I want to buy it, earn it. You can understand that?"
"Yes,” Luc said, remembering when he arrived on the shores of America and felt the same thing. “We'll discuss the details tomorrow ... late tomorrow,” he added, turning and holding out his hand to his mate. “I have a ceremony to finish."
Nashe glanced over at Marissa, seeing the happiness on the fair face of the red-haired siren. “You deserve each other,” he said quietly, gave Marissa a wink. He put his Mustang in reverse and pulled away.
"Is he always like that?” Marissa asked Lukah, snuggling against his hard body.
"Yes, but he has a reason. Life hasn't been easy on him. In some ways, it's downright sucked.” He shook his head, as if to rid himself of thoughts that weren't of her. “Are you ready to finish this?” he asked softly, tilting her face up to his.
Marissa grimaced. “I don't know if I can drink blood,” she said honestly. I want to be a part of you, to have you part of me, but..."
He bent, finding her lips with his, slowly deepening the kiss until she stood pressed intimately against him, her body frantically trying to wrap around him. Her moans sounded husky in his ears, the scent of her musk gathered in his nostrils. He growled at the taste of her and how it exploded into his senses, making him crave more and still more. He'd never be completely satiated by her. He'd always want more, like a junkie after his next fix.
That thought didn't scare him. It turned him on even more. His cock felt like a rigid steel bar in his jeans, pressing against the zipper in a way that was almost painful. His hands slid down her back, sneaking under the short edge of the robe to cup her rounded ass, squeezing and pulling her into him closer, even as she lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist.
"I want you too much,” he rasped, tearing his lips from hers. He couldn't move his hands, his fingers caressing, touching, wanting to lift her up and tear open his jeans, filling her with him in one quick, hard thrust. “I want to take you right here."
"Yes,” she moaned, her lips against his throat, her tongue playing with the dark throbbing of his pulse. She scraped her teeth, now turned to fangs, over that tanned skin, lapping at it and tasting his flesh.
Lukah spun, pulling her off her feet, slamming her into the wall of the garage as he pressed against her. The feel of her teeth, so close to his jugular, was exquisite torture. His hands fumbled with the tie of her robe, finally yanking it off her, opening the fabric to expose her to the soft light of the moon shining down upon them.
She was satin and shadows, teasing glimpses of light and soft red curls. Her body was hot, her curves filling his palms like no other had before. She was his, his mate, his life, his ... everything. Pulling away, he turned her slowly, seeing the trust and love in her eyes. The robe dropped to the ground at his feet, leaving the long tempting line of her back and the soft curves of her shoulders exposed to his eyes.
"You are so beautiful, my love.” He traced his fingers over her shoulders, following her spine until he reached the top of her perfectly heart shaped bottom. The shiver she gave, followed by a moan of need had his cock jerking, the tip leaking copious drops of liquid lubrication. “Are you ready?” he asked, his fingers slipping between her thighs to find the answer for himself.
She was hot, wet, his finger slipping into her and feeling her muscles clasping him. “Oh God, yes,” he growled. “Put your hands on the wall."
Marissa stared over her shoulder at him, her gray and purple eyes shimmering mysteriously in the light of the moon. “Like this?” she whispered, letting her fingers splay over the wall in front of her.
"Oh yes,” Lukah moaned, leaning forward for another long taste and taking of her lips. He felt the intense heat of lust hit him as the taste of her burst over him. It made him hungry for her; so hungry he couldn't stop from ripping open the front of his jeans, freeing his aching cock. “I'm going to take you now,” he snarled, “and you're going to love it."
Her answer was in the way she thrust out her hips, wiggling as if she couldn't wait for his possession. He slapped her bottom lightly, seeing the quick grin that came to her face. Her expression changed as he slid into her, his cock enveloped in her heat, the thick wetness surrounding him, leaving him groaning, unable to move in fear of losing control.
He held his breath, the sensation of bonding and the sharing of his essence leaving him teetering on the edge of coming. Pulling out slowly, he heard Marissa's moans, knew her need, for he could feel it as his own.
"Don't leave me,” she begged as he pulled all but the very tip of his cock from her quivering pussy.
"I couldn't,” he gasped, holding her hips still with his hands as he pushed back inside, feeling her delicate opening stretch around his girth, holding him. He reached up with one hand, pulling her hair off to the side, exposing the delicate nape of her neck to his sight and tongue. “You're ready,” he said, for it was a statement of fact. He could feel it inside of her.
His hips thrust, sawing into her as he bent over her back, running his tongue over his lips and then his teeth, feeling the fangs that grew to an amazing sharpness. His hands moved, one going to the soft fur of her sex, slipping between to play against the hard bud of her clit. The other rose, smoothing over her flat stomach, sliding up the curve of her breast to pull and twist her pebble-hard nipples.
He thrust into her hard, taking the nape of her neck between his strong, white teeth, letting his fangs pierce her soft flesh, the taste of her essence filling his mouth.
Marissa reached down, surprising him, grabbing the hand that played over her creamy breasts and bringing it to her lips. She suckled on his fingers, taking one deep into her mouth, her tongue sliding over the sensitive pad before releasing it. His palm was given a kiss, then a nip to the heel of his palm. He held his breath when he felt her lap at the pulse that thundered in his wrist, then the sudden, sharp pain of her teeth piercing his flesh.
She was doing it, drinking of him the way he had of her, completing the ritual that would bond them together for life. The excitement of it was almost too much and he thrust into her convulsively, now desperately craving the release that would round off the event. His groan mixed with her moan, her hips moving against him, fucking him back in the most elemental of ways.
Lukah felt her tighten around him, felt the first flutter of her pleasure. It grew like a wave, surrounding his cock with wet spasms. He pulled his teeth from her neck, letting his head fall back as he ground his teeth in delight, wanting to ride out her pleasure, wanting her to feel more.
Her tongue lapped over the holes she'd made with her teeth, closing them with the special magic of the clan. Then she pulled her mouth off of him, her hands going to the wall to hold her up as a climax like nothing else she'd ever felt held her in thrall.
He heard her scream in pleasure through a haze of his own long-denied need. She tightened around him even more, holding him in a wet grip, the muscles in her pussy milking at his cock. With an oath, he gave up the struggle, following her into
a bliss that was painful in its intensity. Spray after spray of his hot come filled her, the heat sending out more shivers of orgasm through her system. He growled his pleasure, joy seeping into him as he could feel her emotions, hear her thoughts. The bonding was complete.
He held her to him, her back to his chest, her hair tickling his nose as he caught his breath. She trembled and he knew it wasn't from the cool night air, but from the release.
I wish to show you something, he projected to her.
"I can hear you,” she said, startled. Then she closed her eyes, squinting. CAN YOU HEAR ME?!
He chuckled, rubbing his chin in her hair. “You don't have to think so loudly, little one. We are connected now. You will always know how I feel, just as I will you."
"It's going to be hard to keep secrets from you at Christmas, isn't it?” she asked with a feigned sigh.
Lukah laughed. “Some things are sacred. Christmas is one of them. You'll learn. I'll be more than happy to teach you.” Now, come with me. He pulled out of her with a soft plop, shrugging out of the rest of his clothes as she watched. Holding out his hand, he turned toward the side of the house, taking two steps and then the third as a panther.
Marissa hurried after him, finding the change so easy. They streaked through the yard and into the thick trees, playing a game of tag amidst their branches.
* * * *
Nashe pulled into Terry's apartment building. The cop cars were gone as was Lucinda's Miata. “Fuck,” he hissed. He'd hoped to be able to call Lucinda and have her tell him how Terry was doing. Now he'd have to go up on his own.
That little human was dangerous. She didn't fear him and she should. He had found out early that if he instilled a healthy dose of fear into the woman he took, they wouldn't want a long and lasting relationship. They'd tire of his bad boy image and be content with an affair.
Terry didn't seem much like the affair type. He went up the walkway, disgruntled by his thoughts, reaching out and yanking on the door without thinking. It pulled open in his hands, the frame splintering and bent. “Shit! Fuck! Damn!” he growled, rolling his eyes at his own idiocy.