His head was aching as if it had had a run in with the grill of a Mack truck. A concussion would explain a lot—the creatures hovering over his body for instance.
Certain he’d rattled his brain in the fall, he tried to play it cool. He didn’t want to scream hysterically in front of what were probably normal, human looking paramedics and end up going to the wrong kind of hospital.
“I was…there was this storm and…” He slowly raised himself on his elbows and looked around. “It must have taken me farther than I thought. There aren’t any woods like this on my property.”
“His eyes are the blue of the Krentyn Sea. His hair is pale as the butter flower. And, Fenna, look. He’s golden, but not all over like the King and his men. Parts of this one are pale. Like fresh cream.” Kansas felt his eyebrows touch his hairline as the fine, reddish fur covering the young man in front of him rose and trembled, standing on edge like an agitated cat.
Kansas ran a hand through his hair, searching for the wound he was sure he would find. Nope. Not even a bump. Maybe he was still unconscious. This could be a dream, right? He was lying in the woods listening to a dainty bird-woman and a large, muscular male cat with humanoid features discuss his physical attributes as if he couldn’t hear them.
Yes. Definitely a dream.
The female above him twittered. “You and your cream, Lenard. I can see you’ve already made up your mind to like this one.”
She caught Kansas’s gaze and inclined her head to a level below her companion’s waist. Kansas swallowed hard. He wasn’t altogether sure Lenard liking him was a good thing. Although he had to admit the engorged shaft rising aggressively from between the male’s thick thighs was impressive.
That clinched it. He’d been alone far too long. He even felt his own cock stirring in response.
That’s when he realized he was naked.
“Shit! What the hell?” He jumped to his feet, covering his partial arousal with his hands. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled, stubbing his toe. “Ow! This doesn’t make any sense. It has to be a dream. But why can’t I wake up?”
The beautiful angles of the female’s face softened. “Be at ease, sea-eyed one. You say a storm brought you here?”
Her head tilted thoughtfully at his nod. “I haven’t heard of anything like that since I was a flightless babe at my greatmother’s knee. But it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re no Crow Warrior. You definitely aren’t from around here.”
“Crow Warrior?”
She sent a telling look to Lenard. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it but to take you to the king. Lenard will like that, won’t you, Lenard? A chance to pay your respects to our king?”
“Yes, Fenna.” Lenard’s voice shook at the prospect. If his cock, jerking and growing even larger before their eyes, was anything to go by, he apparently really liked his king. Kansas forced his gaze back to the female.
“I can’t go anywhere with you. First of all, I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating. Secondly, well, I have nothing to wear. And hallucination or not, I’m not moving from this spot as long as I’m naked.” He didn’t mention that the two creatures before him were naked as well, though they at least had some covering in the form of feathers and fur.
Feathers and fur. Another possibility struck him. Maybe there’d been no storm at all. Maybe he’d finally gone round the bend, the way his uncle had sworn he would when Kansas had left the world he’d known all his life for the solitude of the family farm all those years ago.
Five years alone, with only the bi-monthly trips into town to remind him that other people were still wandering the world. Still going about their lives without him. But he hadn’t wanted to know. Maybe his determination to hide from reality had finally driven him insane.
“We can fix that, sea eyes. But first, do you have a name? A people you belong to? I am called Fenna. I belong to the Glider Clan. This is Lenard. As you can see, he is a Felix.”
Lenard blushed at the mention of his name. The youthful excitement in his slanted ebony eyes did something to Kansas. Long forgotten memories he immediately and violently pushed down. What had Fenna asked him again?
“Kansas. My name is Kansas Frayne. I don’t belong to any clan. I mean, well, I’m just a regular guy from Iowa if that’s what you’re asking.” She continued to watch him, a blank expression on her face. “I’m human.”
He watched the two share a look at the word “human” and his stomach dropped. He had a feeling he wasn’t in Iowa anymore.
A deadly crash changes the fate of one lonely vampire.
One and Only
© 2008 Bianca D’Arc
A Brotherhood of the Blood Story
Vampire enforcer Atticus Maxwell stands at the edge of his own oblivion…until the faint heartbeat of a desperately wounded mortal woman calls him back. The terrible crash that almost took both their lives has brought him a charming, intriguing woman who just might give him a reason to live again.
Lissa was headed for a conference at a resort in a last-ditch attempt to find a job. Instead, on a rain-slick mountain road that almost killed her, she finds the love of her life. A love with the most eligible, reclusive vineyard owner in Napa Valley—one that isn’t quite human.
No barrier—not even breaking the news to Lissa’s friends—seems too great to hold back their blossoming love. Until they learn the accident that brought them together wasn’t an accident at all, but a murder attempt by an unknown enemy.
Atticus saved Lissa once. Can he keep her that way in the face of a renewed threat?
Enjoy the following excerpt for One and Only:
When Lissa Adams woke, darkness engulfed her. Straining to see in the absence of light, her breath accelerated as she panicked. Her apprehension only grew when she realized another person lay beside her. A soft dripping sound echoed through what she supposed was some kind of underground chamber or cave. That’s what it sounded like—and smelled like. She felt rough rock and scattered grains of sandy dirt beneath her palms.
She knew the mountains were dotted with such places, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Or why she was so groggy.
She tried to sit up, but the effort it required nearly blacked her out again. The being beside her stirred at her movement, and she felt more than saw the person rise to lean over her.
“Where are we?”
“I moved us to shelter.”
Rich and warm, his voice bathed her senses in a dark and dangerous way.
Sexy, she thought. She’d heard that voice before.
It was accompanied by flashing eyes and chiseled features. A man’s face flickered through her mind. She’d been fascinated by him and instantly captivated. She remembered thinking he was quite possibly the most striking man she’d ever seen.
“You stepped on my foot.”
He chuckled at her innocent observation, setting her insides aflame.
“Indeed. But that was more than twenty-four hours ago.”
He stroked a gentle finger down her cheek and she shivered, not in fear, but in surprising arousal. If just the brush of his finger could elicit this response, she wondered what he could do if he really tried.
That thought stopped her cold. Men like this one didn’t usually go for women like her. Better to focus on the peculiar situation she found herself in than daydream about her rescuer.
“What happened? I remember the bus swerving…”
“Ah, yes. Just before we rolled down the side of the mountain. You hit your head very hard, I’m afraid. That’s probably why you’re still a bit fuzzy.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
He paused only slightly. “Dead.”
Her breath caught in shock as her mind raced. “How did we…?”
“Relax, sweetheart.” He moved closer. “I pulled you from the wreckage and found shelter, but I was badly damaged in the accident as well. I’m sorry for it, but I need your essence to speed my healing.”
“My what?” Hot breath bathed her ear as he settled closer to her side. His strong arms enveloped her shoulders as his mouth stroked over the line of her jaw and lower.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you, but I need your blood, and I’m too weak to cloud your mind. You’ll have to trust me.” His words whispered against her shivering skin. He dragged sharp teeth back and forth over her jugular as if savoring the moment before the feast.
She barely had time to take in his words before he struck. A piercing pain registered only for a flash, followed by the greatest bliss she had ever experienced. Intensely sexual, it engulfed her in a way she’d never known. He sucked at her neck, licking at the essence of her, swallowing like a thirsty man in the desert. Yet reverence and gentleness communicated through his tender handling of her bruised and battered body.
Oddly, she didn’t object. She knew she should be afraid, but an intense arousal overwhelmed her. She didn’t have the strength to voice even the faintest protest.
He drank for what seemed a long time, his hands moving over her body, molding her breasts and stroking her skin. Only then did she realize she was naked. She gasped as his long fingers stroked down between her legs, angling inward, invading her most intimate places as his mouth caressed the tender skin of her throat.
He knew his way around a woman’s body. Those skilled fingers knew just where to stroke, just where to pinch to drive her excitement to the highest possible point. She teetered on the precipice as his fingers slid in the arousal he drew from her body. His mouth sucked at her neck, his breath feathering through her hair, his pleasing masculine scent teasing her senses. And the feel of him. He was hot and heavy against her, hard as only a man could be and muscular in a way she hadn’t expected.
One hand cupped her breast, teasing her nipple as his fingers finally pierced the imaginary boundary, sliding inside her, where few men had ever been. But this man—though she’d known him only a few minutes, really—was like no other man she’d ever encountered. He fired her senses like no other, sending slick, hot arousal to her core. Even the thought that he was some sort of dark creature out of legend couldn’t stop the most intense sexual experience of her life.
That one tantalizing finger pumped into her, stretching her. He added a second digit as she whimpered in need. She hadn’t had sex in a long time. She was tight, but her body remembered pleasure, and this man—this vampire!—proved himself a master at manipulating her responses. He owned her pleasure.
Two long fingers stroked within, his thumb teased higher, rubbing in perfect counterpoint. She came with a wrenching jerk of hips that threatened to dislodge him, but his great strength kept her easily in his clutches. He continued the stimulation, extending her orgasm for long, intense moments while his upper body covered hers, his lips feeding hungrily from the small incisions he’d made in her neck. The pleasure washed over her in the most intense waves she’d ever known and right then she didn’t care if he was a vampire, werewolf or Indian chief. All she knew was his mastery. And she already knew she wanted more.
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Educating Jane Porter: A Jane Porter Story Page 7