Darkness Embraced

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Darkness Embraced Page 8

by Pennington, Winter


  I almost tried denying it, but Cuinn shook his head and said, I know ye, and I knew without a doubt that he spoke truth. It wouldn’t get me anywhere arguing with him.

  Instead, I questioned further. Why do you wish to speak with her?

  Ah, it’ll be easier and she won’t think you’ve completely lost your wits.

  “Epiphany,” Renata was still on my bed searching my face. “What is it?”

  I opened my mouth to explain, when Cuinn got impatient with me. Ye don’t have to explain everything ye do!

  I moved toward her, spreading my legs and straddling her body between my thighs. I had a moment to see the startled look in her glorious gaze before I pressed my lips to hers.

  Renata put a palm against the back of my head and the kiss turned into something deeper, more unbidden. Her hands cradled my hips and as her tongue expertly explored my mouth. I wrapped my legs around her body, my arms lacing about her neck.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  Renata pulled away from the kiss, whispering my name.

  What I saw was not my bedroom.

  We sat in a clearing. I, in Renata’s lap, her arms wrapped loosely about my waist. Moonlight cast an enchanting glow on the wooded area that surrounded us. The trunks of the trees were dressed in skirts of rich green moss. Beneath the fallen trunk of a tree, the ground sank into a den, and from that den came Cuinn. Moonlight hit his orange coat, catching the fiery highlights. There were streaks of coal-like shadows at the corners of his snout. His ash tipped ears swiveled as he dipped his head, kneeling in a fox’s version of a bow.

  I had never seen anything so magical.

  His eyes like sunlit molasses met mine and a crooked smirk curved oddly over his animal face.

  Greetings, Epiphany. He sank lower. Greetings, Queen of the Rosso Lussuria.

  Renata gave Cuinn a very long look. “So this is the spirito animale that lies hidden in the sword?”

  The words were simple enough to comprehend, but it was strange to hear her speak her native tongue.

  Aye, he said. Do ye see now that she is not mad?

  He stepped forward and his ears flattened against his skull. He was treading cautiously.

  “I did not fear she was touched by madness.” Renata’s fingers traced circles against my lower back and I shuddered.

  Ah well, Cuinn said, now ye know for certain she is not.

  Renata dipped her head in acknowledgement.

  Cuinn asked, What do ye know about my kind?

  I didn’t know who he was talking to, but Renata answered.

  “Very little,” she said. “I know that there were once swords of great power, and within them, within every fiber of their making, they were infused with a spirit.” She tilted her head. “Celts, was it not?”

  Aye, he said, It was, druids namely. He set back on his haunches. I must admit I am curious to know how I fell into the hands of a vampire.

  “I’ve no aid to give there, volpe. I only know that it has been with the Rosso Lussuria since before I was Queen.”

  “Why wouldn’t you know how you got here?” I asked him.

  I have been sleeping for a very long time.

  “Well, why didn’t you wake up?”

  He shook his head. That is not the nature of a spirit sword, he said. We awaken when one worthy wields our blades.

  “You’re starting to make all of this sound so very sword-in-the-stone-esque,” I said.

  The comment made his face burst into a delightful little fox grin. Aye, with every myth there’s a grain of truth.

  “You’re not going to start spouting some, ‘you are the chosen one,’ lines, are you?”

  Renata laughed. “You have been spending too much time in the library.”

  Cuinn shook his head. Nay, but you were in the right place at the right time.

  “Or you were,” I said.

  Aye.

  “I had wondered,” Renata mused, “how Epiphany had beaten Gaspare.”

  Cuinn’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t a human gesture, but it was a gesture of defense nonetheless. Are ye accusing her of cheating?

  “I could,” Renata said blankly.

  The fox slowly began to smile, and then he let out a bark of laughter. My ears seemed to hear the barking, but my mind heard a boy’s laughter, not quite a man’s, but it was the closest thing my mind could make sense of. I realized, though I had been thinking of Cuinn as male, he had an amazingly androgynous voice.

  “Why do you laugh, volpe? It could very well happen if any of the Elders figure this out. Epiphany could be accused of cheating.”

  Cuinn clicked his jaw shut, but he was still smiling. Nay, he said and stood on all fours again, coming closer. I felt the line of his furred body sliding against my back, over Renata’s hand. ‘T was not cheating if it was her power that called me. If I remember your laws correctly.

  “How would you know our laws unless you once belonged to a vampire?” Renata asked. I too, wondered.

  Nay. I did not.

  “How do you know then?”

  ’Cause I know you are not believing what you’re saying.

  “Clever and intuitive,” she said dryly.

  Aye, not so easily fooled, am I.

  “Epiphany,” she said and I looked at her. “A word of advice. He may have saved your life, but he is a fox.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  We’re notorious tricksters. That’s what she’s trying to tell you. I am bound to you and through that binding I cannot, unfortunately, lie. If ye knew anything about spirit swords ye’d know that.

  Renata appeared thoughtful enough that I asked, “Is this true?”

  She shrugged.

  Cuinn began walking back toward his den.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  Now that I’ve helped to clear everything up with your Queen. He yawned. I’m going back to sleep.

  I opened my eyes to find we were still in my room. I was still straddling Renata, but she had fallen back in the bed. My stomach sank. She looked up at me from where she laid, hair spilling out like dark waters. She touched my cheek.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Cuinn give a little yip of laughter.

  Chapter Nine

  I couldn’t tell whether Cuinn was sleeping or whether he was merely giving us the illusion of privacy. I got to my knees and Renata’s fingers laced around my wrist, stopping me.

  “Epifania,” she said it softly, almost tenderly.

  I struggled, caught between uncertainty and desire.

  “It has been years since you’ve said my name that way.”

  She propped herself up on elbows, bringing our bodies dangerously close.

  “What way?” she breathed the words.

  “Like it’s something sweet on your tongue.” I turned away, willing myself not to look at her.

  She touched my cheek much as she had earlier.

  “It was always more than your name that was sweet upon my tongue.”

  An unseen vice gripped my chest. I tried to pull my hand away, and Renata’s grip tightened at my wrist. As if we were doing a graceful dance, she followed me as I sat up, trying to get out of the bed. I moved back once, twice. My right knee caught the edge and I lost my balance. Renata caught me before I toppled over the edge. She pulled me in against her body, close enough I could feel the swell of her breasts against mine.

  The smile I had seen in so many memories curved in soft amusement. Her eyes danced with unexpected passion and curiosity. I remembered that look. How could I forget? It was a blessing that I did not dream. I feared that if I had dreamt in the past two hundred years, they would’ve been filled with that knowing smile, that spark of unrestrained passion and amusement.

  “Renata, not again, not this game.”

  She held my face in her hands gently, touching my cheeks with tentative fingers, as if I would break, as if she could feel some fragility etched in my bones.

  “Yes,” she said, trai
ling her nails lightly down my skin, using the opening of my blouse to mark a path on it. Her hands traveled lower, until I felt her fingers working deftly at the buttons.

  I swallowed past the burning stitch in my throat.

  “Epiphany,” she said, her fingers stilled on the last button. “Look at me.”

  I did, feeling her free the last button. Her hands moved to my shoulders as she brushed the silk aside. So light, so gentle, so very careful. I’d tried to force myself to forget Renata was capable of such tenderness.

  The silk fell in a caress of fabric halfway down my arms. The air was warm on my skin. She trailed the tips of her fingers over my collarbones and her nails dug in lightly, carving an invisible path over the tops of my breasts. I shut my eyes.

  “Do you want me to stop?” It was the last thing I expected to hear from her. But lightly, hesitantly, I shook my head.

  Had I been stronger of will, I might’ve said yes. But somewhere inside of me was a moth that craved the burn of her flame, that didn’t want her to stop.

  I moved toward her, letting the silken shirt fall to the bed.

  “No.” It was the barest of whispers.

  “Lay back.”

  I did, waiting.

  Renata slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of my pants. She drew the material down my legs, watching, as if some part of her savored the sight of the dark fabric sliding away to reveal my pale skin underneath.

  Once, she had told me she took pleasure in such a thing. Whether the look in her eyes now was a truth or lie, I did not care.

  I simply wanted that look.

  Her fingers hesitated at my ankles. “You will not accuse me of rape?” Amusement lilted her tone.

  My words came out strangled. “You broke my heart once. How much worse can it hurt than the first time?”

  Renata laughed, but it wasn’t a happy one. It was a laugh filled with sorrow, of things that had been lost.

  “Oh, Epiphany.” The look she gave me was the closest to sympathy I’d ever seen from her. “I never meant to break your heart.”

  Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. “But you did.” I almost choked on the words. “I craved death’s sweet kiss when you cast me out.”

  The look she gave me was compassionate and sad. “You are already dead, my sweet.”

  I shook my head as a tear broke free. The cool dampness of it tickled down my cheek. “You know what I mean. I wanted to die for good, Renata. I lay in bed for hours. I thought of you and wished you had never spared me my fate.” I gave a bitter laugh, choking on it. “You broke me in a way, even to this day, I do not understand.”

  Renata placed a finger over my lips. “I did what I did out of care for you. Do you not see that?”

  “I remember too much,” I spoke around her finger. “I feel too much, too much of the emptiness you left behind.”

  “Then feel me,” she said climbing my body and sliding her thigh between my legs. “Feel this.”

  She pushed the hair out of my face, fingers shadowing the path my tears had taken. Her palm cupped my cheek and I turned my face, brushing my lips across her skin.

  With trembling fingers I drew her head down to me, whispering her name.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  “Make love to me,” I said, my words trembling only slightly less than my hands. “Fix what you broke inside of me.”

  Her long lashes fluttered like raven wings. “I will try.”

  I sank my hands into her hair, twining the darkened tresses around my arms like silken shackles. She kissed me, a gentle brush of her lips. I used the grip I had in her hair to raise off the bed. I kissed her, opening my mouth and exploring the hot cavern of her with my tongue. Renata kissed me back, using her body to pin mine to the mattress below us.

  She broke the kiss, catching my wrists in her hands. Her fingers cinched tightly and I unclenched my fists. Slowly, she drew my hands out of her hair.

  “I thought this was supposed to be healing?” She guided my arms behind my back and jerked me against her. Her lips slid over my brow.

  I shuddered. “Is it not?”

  She drew away with a devious glint in her eyes. “It will not be if you taunt me into losing control.”

  I wiggled and her grip on my wrists tightened, encouraging my blood to pump faster.

  “Please,” I said.

  “Please what?”

  “Please,” I pleaded.

  She laughed, slipping her hand between my legs. Her fingers splayed and parted me.

  “Please?” Her voice dripped with honey as she touched me. “Please this?”

  “Yes.” I moaned as she slid her fingers inside me.

  I had forced myself to forget how good it felt, forced myself to forget how her fingers worked me, how my body reacted to her touch, how she read it, how expertly she played me. She began drawing her fingers out, pleasantly coaxing a whimper of protest from my mouth. She withdrew, and at the absence of her touch, I nearly wept. The fear that she was going to pull away made my throat tight.

  Instead, she touched my thigh.

  “Spread your legs.”

  The look in her eyes was enough.

  I opened to her as she moved down my body. Her mouth sought me and she kissed me lightly, brushing her lips across the flesh between my legs. A shiver of pleasure curled my toes. Her lips parted, catching on my skin as she raised her eyes to gaze up the line of my body. I clutched the sheets.

  “Harder.”

  She obliged, sucking me into her mouth until I could feel the dents of her fangs digging into my skin. Her fingers found me, and I moaned, hips rising and falling against her mouth and hand. The pleasure tightened my body, and at its resistance, her pace quickened. The thrust of her fingers became something hard and fierce, a sharp blow dealt to the core of my being. Her tongue circled my clit and she sucked harder, faster, until she brought me to climax writhing and crying her name.

  I fell back against the pillows. Renata moved, bringing my attention to her. A look of sorrow and regret etched her features. Somewhere in the beautiful contours of her face was passion and lust, but there too was love.

  Renata loved me. No matter what she said, in that moment, I knew it. That knowledge crept over my skin and burrowed into my heart.

  *

  I woke gasping the first ragged breath of life. As always, it took a few moments to gain my bearings. I didn’t move until the pain subsided, and then slowly, ever so slowly began to sit up in the bed.

  An arm flung out across my chest.

  “Not yet,” she said in a purring voice that held the edge of amusement and command.

  I sensed Cuinn’s ears perk, but did not sense him stir further.

  “He’s awake,” I whispered.

  Her lips spread in a lazy smile, as if she had just woken from a very pleasant dream. “I care, because?”

  “I haven’t fed.”

  She grinned, nestling her leg between mine underneath the silken sheet. “I have.”

  I blinked. “How?”

  She traced my brow with a lazy finger. “I have always risen earlier than you. Do you not remember?”

  Once I thought about it, I did. “Yes.” I lowered my gaze to the pulse beating against the side of her neck.

  She laughed, her hand moving to the back of my head. “Come here.”

  I thought she was pulling me toward her for a kiss, but she didn’t. She offered her neck to me, drawing me close enough that I was able to bury my face in the bend of it. The smell of her skin was sweetly alluring, but the smell of warm blood pumping beneath it was far more intriguing in that moment.

  I kissed the skin over that tiny drum and felt a shudder go through her.

  “You’re offering blood?” I said.

  “Suffice it to say, you did very well last night.”

  I licked my lips as a fierce pang of hunger hit, writhing in my gut.

  “No catch?” I panted, uncertain if I was going to be able to pull myself awa
y even if there was one.

  “None,” she said, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.

  I caught her skin between my teeth and bit down, feeling my fangs pierce her skin. She cried out, but not in pain. The borrowed blood in her body hit my tongue like fire and ice, at once hot and cold, burning and melting in my mouth like molten chocolate. I locked my mouth around her skin, swallowing quick enough that none of the blood went to waste. Her heart beat, pushing the blood into my mouth. My body grew languid with life and warmth. She whispered my name and I knew what she wanted. Her arms encircled my body, lifting me while I fed at her neck. I wrapped my legs around her waist, feeling her breasts brush mine. Her nipples hardened against my skin, causing an echo reaction within my own body. I moaned over her pulse.

  It was one thing Renata and I had always had in common. We liked blood. We liked blood a lot, especially in the bedroom. Sex and blood mingled well for us. Then again, being what we were, how not?

  I snaked my arm between our bodies, found the little tuft of hair between her thighs, and touched her with the tips of my fingers.

  “Piph,” she murmured, grabbing a fistful of my hair and holding me prisoner against her body.

  I parted her lips and found her clit, slick and swollen with desire.

  She jerked my head back and I had to open my mouth wide so I wouldn’t tear her skin. I swallowed quickly, trying not to lose the mouthful of blood, and only managing to swallow half of it. Blood spilled down my bottom lip.

  Renata caught my face in her hands, holding me still, licking the blood from my chin like a cat. She licked my bottom lip, sucking, grazing me with her teeth and then kissed me, this time deeper, taking in the taste of blood and desire. I kissed her back, tongue matching the rhythm my fingers had taken between her legs.

  I broke the kiss, climbing down her body. I kissed her shoulder, her collarbone. I caught her nipple between my teeth lightly, drawing her breast into my mouth and sucking. She moaned, her grip tightening in my hair, pulling hard enough I winced in pleasure and pain.

  Renata’s hand twined in my hair to the point where it bordered on nothing but pain. She fell back on the bed, pulling me down with her before her body went rigid and she cried out.

 

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