Blood Rush: Book Two of the Demimonde

by Ash Krafton

  "Where'd you go?" I asked.

  He shrugged. "I took your stuff down to the wash. Wasn't sure what soap you wanted so I just used the all-purpose stuff."

  I blinked. I figured I'd end up grabbing a corner and dragging them down, step by step. Getting them over the rail to drop them into the foyer had been strenuous enough.

  "It's just that—whatever was on them, I could smell them all the way down to my room." He looked apologetic. "I have territory issues. That smell was telling me to get out and I just didn't think. Please don't be mad."

  I could just about hug him. "Oh—I didn't mean for you—you did me a huge favor."

  He gave me a dirty look. "If you think this favor is enough to get rid of me, Red, you got another thing coming."

  "What's with that, anyway? You keep calling me Red. Hello, brunette with highlights!"

  "Yeah." He shrugged, attempting that cocky smooth act once more. "But when you're the Big Bad Wolf, every chick looks like Little Red Riding Hood."

  I launched a fitted sheet at him but he ducked the missile with a short laugh. The second time he wasn't so lucky. "You're goofy, you know that?"

  "Another famous dog, by the way. Where you going?"

  I headed for the door. "Got work to do. Shy will be home soon, so try not to set her off. Later."

  "See ya, Soph." I laughed in the hall as his falsetto voice sang: "Whose bed, Grandma? It's Red's bed. Say what?"

  Goofy. Perfect name for him if ever I thought of one. At least he was good for a laugh. Gawrsh.

  I practiced barriers until well after eleven, waiting for Shiloh to come home. By then I couldn't wait any longer. Shiloh hadn't returned any of my texts so I had no idea where she was, who she was with, when she'd come home. I called Rodrian, crossing my fingers and chewing my lip, praying he would answer the phone himself. Thankfully, he did.

  "Do you have Shiloh?" I asked. "I haven't seen her since this morning."

  "What? No. Hang on—"

  I heard the phone click. He must have been trying to get her on another line because after a moment he picked up. "She's not answering. I'm on my way. She knows she's supposed to let you know where she is. That's it. I'm taking her keys."

  He ranted several minutes longer before hanging up. Good. I wasn't overreacting, then.

  He continued his tirade upon arrival. I waited in the den while he called everyone short of the National Guard. He even called Brianda.

  Rode had to pull the phone away from his ear when Brianda yelled. Shy would be grounded for the rest of her life and, considering how long a life she had ahead of her, she was screwed.

  Eventually he settled down and joined me in the den. I had a feeling he was more worried than angry so maybe a little Sophia time would help him rest. Rodrian held a legal pad in his right hand, evaluating notes from his meeting and sounding ominously quiet about it. I huddled next to him, curled up in the hollow formed under his left arm where it rested along the top of the couch. The den was cozy and comfortable when the fireplace burned.

  Cradling my glass of wine, I stared absently at the fire, listening to it pop and sear its way through the heavy log he'd thrown on earlier. It had been so long since I'd been this close to anyone. I'd missed it.

  I'd missed him.

  Rodrian hadn't seemed the same since the night we argued on the way back from Eirene's. He had been acting different, more cautious around me. Maybe stomping around and yelling about Shiloh earlier had helped tenderize him because he didn't seem so guarded now.

  I'd grown fond of Rodrian when Marek and I were together. He and Shiloh had become family to me. His presence and his mental touch were familiar, a comforting reminder of happier times.

  I'd spent the last year completely alone and utterly abandoned but had been determined to survive. I didn't want to admit my deepest feelings. I didn't want anyone near me. I didn't want anyone to get close enough to touch. I feared only pain would follow.

  I'd been wrong. Now, at least, I had a little of my former happiness back again. Rodrian's presence seemed to banish a bit of the hollowness I felt living here. We'd experienced too much together in the past to be mere friends now. It was that bond that permitted our closeness now, this intimate friendship.

  I brushed against Rodrian's power. Uncertainty, wavering confidence. Time to squash those feelings before they ruined the whole night.

  "So, who answered the phone the other day?" I hadn't recognized the woman's voice. Usually whenever I called his place he let the machine screen it or, if one of the Brute Squad was there, they'd answer. It was ultra-rare that a woman ever answered, even though Rodrian was practically a chick farmer.

  "Hmm?" He dropped the file as if I'd startled him by speaking. "Oh. Mindy. That was Mindy."

  The name wasn't familiar. "DV?"

  "No. She's...a friend."

  I'd heard the slight hesitation. "Girlfriend?"

  "Not really. We see each other occasionally. Lunch. That sort of thing."

  "Oh." I laughed and nudged him with my elbow. "Why didn't you just say so? She's a blood date."

  He shrugged and hid behind his file again. "I don't like to bring it up."

  "It's not like I don't know."

  "No, but..." He rested the file on the arm of the couch. "Marek said he'd never discussed it with you. I wasn't going to, either."

  "True," I said softly. "He didn't. Maybe he would have, if there had been time."

  "Doesn't it scare you? I mean, after all that happened. I thought it'd be a bad subject around you."

  "It happened. It was a long time ago. It's hazy." Teensy white lie. No use in giving him something else to worry about. And anyways, I figured if I said it often enough, it'd eventually become the truth.

  "It was Marek," he insisted.

  "Yeah. It was." The sharpness of my voice was almost unintentional. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I didn't want to ruin the night, either. "It wasn't Marek's fault. It wasn't mine. And I'm good as new, now."

  Only a small bit of sarcasm in that last part.

  Rodrian slid his arm down from the top of the couch, hugging me closer. He pressed his cheek to the top of my head and inhaled deeply. "Yeah, pretty much."

  The gesture made me remember something Dahlia had said when I'd been recovering from The Crap That Almost Killed Me. She'd said that before I lost most of my blood, I'd smelled nice—and explained my blood had a pleasant scent to it, like smoked apples. Squirming in my seat, I looked up at him. "Do I smell nice again?"

  A faint smile crossed his lips. "Yes."

  "What's it like?"

  "Sophie..." He sat straighter and dislodged me from my nest. "I really don't think this is a good conversation for us to be having."

  "Why? Did I say something wrong?"

  "No. But I can't do this. I can't sit and talk about something like this, not with you. Not when I'm trying so hard to be what you need me to be."

  "And that is?"

  "Anything but vampire."

  I frowned. "You're not vampire, Rode."

  "No, but I am DV. I'm covered in your scent but you're forbidden fruit. How can I talk about it? It just makes it harder."

  "I'm sorry." Sighing, I pushed up to my feet. I hadn't meant to do it, but I had ruined the night anyway. Kill Joy Sophie, that's me. "I didn't know. I'll go."

  "Don't." He stopped me with a touch on my arm. "Don't go. It's the absolute last thing I want."

  His eyes simmered as he searched my face. Suddenly I was afraid to know the first thing he wanted. I wanted to know, despite the faint alarm I felt.

  "I've never asked you to be someone that you're not." I looked him squarely in the eye, hoping he'd get every shade of meaning in my words.

  He stood and picked up his folder, busying his hands with it. "I know. But I don't want to hurt you."

  "Do you hurt Mindy?"

  "What?" Rodrian blinked, seeming startled by the question, and backed away. He dropped the notes he'd been perusing onto the bar
. "No."

  "What does she smell like?"

  He shrugged, still avoiding direct eye-contact. "Warmth. Spice. It's vague. Depends on what she's eaten recently."

  "And me?"

  Rodrian sighed, a small defeated sound, and crossed back over to where I stood. He wore an expression that I was sure I wore whenever he nagged me with one of his bossy compulsions. Don't make me do this, the expression said. I wouldn't do this if I had a choice.

  Eyes half-closed, he leaned and breathed me in, his long bangs sliding across my cheek and his lips brushing my ear.

  "You make me think of the fall," he murmured. "Crisp. Harvest. Bounty. You wrap me in Autumn. Bright sun, cool wind. Apples. I don't understand the imagery, but that's where your scent takes me. You're full of promise and generosity. It makes my head spin, my heart ache, and my mouth water."

  Rodrian pulled away slightly and circled behind me where I couldn't see him. I held my breath, afraid to move.

  "It's not just blood, Sophie. I'd swear your soul runs through your veins. It must be the Sophia that does it. I know I should feel awed and humbled."

  Emotion tightened his voice, as if it had become painful to speak. "But I'm not. It just makes me desperate to think of ever not being able to be near you."

  I turned to him. His eyes spilled amber light as he confronted me, the glow brightening as he looked down into my face with a haughty you-wanted-to-know look. "This is what your blood does to me. I am DV. I can't hide the truth."

  He seemed to be daring me to cry, to pull away, to run.

  I wouldn't fold that easily. I'd let Marek pull away because he didn't want to hurt me. I'd let him go because I didn't want to face what he'd become. Well, I wasn't that person anymore. I was the Sophia. I was plain old Sophie. I had to be all of me so I wouldn't lose any of them ever again. "You...don't hurt Mindy?"

  "No, I don't." He blinked a few times and looked away. "She enjoys how I make her feel. I have...ways to distract her from the pain."

  "Would you hurt me?"

  "Oh, Sophie." His voice was little more than a groan. "Please, stop. You're killing me."

  "Rode, I want to know."

  He fell back onto the couch, sprawled out with exasperation as if it weighed him down. "What do you want? Believe me when I tell you you're wrong. It's not good for you."

  "I haven't asked for anything but information."

  "How strong do you think I am? Marek couldn't resist you. Why do you insist on testing me?"

  "I'm not testing. I...I just have this feeling that..." Words evaded me, and I wrung my fingers together like a wistful child. "Shit. I don't know. I don't feel wanted any-more. Everyone needs me these days. But who wants me? If you didn't need me, would you even have me around?"

  "Soph..." He looked up at me. "How can you doubt yourself?"

  "I used to feel the exact opposite. I'd been engaged, once. I could have been married with children by now, but no. He only wanted me. He didn't need me. I couldn't be satisfied with something so shallow as love or desire." I paced to burn off some of the angst that was beginning to take over. "Now, it's need, need, need. I'm so damned useful. I have a big world to save now. But it'd be nice, you know, to be wanted. Even if only for a little blood."

  Rodrian wore a sympathetic expression but his voice was firm. "Sophie, I'm the last one you should be doing this with."

  Rodrian was the only guy I trusted. There was no one else. "Why?"

  "The question is who."

  "He's gone. Marek is gone." I spat the words. Couldn't he get it through his head? "I am not going to live my life waiting for him to come back."

  "He is my brother."

  "And I'm your sister, right." It sounded meaner than I'd intended but I couldn't take it back. "I get it."

  I stalked toward the fireplace and hunkered down on the ottoman, hugging my knees to my chest. The velvet of the cushion, warm from being so close to the blaze, mimicked my hot frustration. There was nobody else I could talk to about this and yet he insisted on keeping this distance between us. Maybe I acted petty but I'd gotten tired of begging for information.

  "Sophie..."

  I didn't look at him, focusing instead on the wavering flames. "No, Rode, I'm sorry. I went too far. We have a lot to worry about. I don't want to lose you now over something like this."

  His breath suddenly stirred against the back on my neck. I never heard him get off the couch.

  "Honey, you will never lose me. And..." He trailed his fingers through my hair, pushing it forward over my shoulder. His breath poured hotly onto my skin, matching the heat of the fire. "You're not my sister."

  I shivered. It was the way he'd said it. "What am I?"

  "More. Everything. I don't know."

  "Would you hurt me?"

  "Never." He whispered, his voice reverberating with his power as it rubbed against me. Light touches, teasing, tentative. Testing me.

  "Would it hurt you?"

  "Oh, no." His mouth brushed the hairs on the back of my neck and he inhaled, drinking me in again, before wrapping me in sensation.

  It began as a trickle, a warm thread of amber glow that dripped down through me. A tiny corner of my mind insisted this was wrong—morally wrong—but it was surprisingly easy to ignore. Subtle pleasure melted my insides, softening me and awakening me, making me gasp.

  Rodrian chuckled, a soft and deep melody. "Just imagine what it's like for me."

  "Don't have to imagine it." I twisted to face him. He'd been kneeling behind me and now sat back on his heels, looking up at me as if I had been dancing. I used his shoulder to boost myself to my feet and tugged on his arm, pulling him up to his feet. "I'm empathic, remember? I can feel you."

  I raised my hand, stroking his face, the silk of his clean-shaven jaw. He brushed his fingers up my arm and pressed his hand over mine. So easy to stand this close to him, so comfortable. I could feel his hunger. "Taste me."

  He closed his eyes and made a low desperate sound. "I can't hold onto my control when you do this."

  "Taste me," I insisted. "I need to know."

  Holding my hand still, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my open palm. When his eyes opened they glowed like bronze coals. A sharp look, one meant to urge me to change my mind.

  His tongue slid along the delicate skin of my palm, a tickle that struck chords lower and deeper. Teeth scraped against the fleshy pad below my thumb.

  Rodrian bit down, his gaze a wild fire, a desperate light that sought fuel and fury and threatened to consume itself.

  No pain. The pressure of his mouth, of his hand holding mine, but no pain.

  His eyes fell closed, mouth working as he drew my blood into his mouth. Heat and pleasure washed over me. Heat and pleasure dripped from the velvet of his lips, the silk of his tongue. Heat and pleasure poured into me, drenching me like slow, thick lava.

  I watched him swallow and forgot to breathe. I closed my eyes, feeling my center of gravity roll out from under me. I grabbed his shirt to keep from swaying when something in my head dipped lower, as if dropping. Vertigo.

  His tongue swept across my skin quickly before he pulled his mouth away.

  "Sophie!" He slid his free arm around my waist to support me. "Are you all right?"

  "Rode." My voice was husky and I swallowed hard, recovering from the brief yet intense experience. My balance had returned but the memory of the internal swooning swirl still shook me. I released my clutch on his collar. "You've been holding out on me, buddy."

  He licked his lips slowly and pulled my hand to his chest and pressed it flat over his heart. It thumped madly. Rodrian chuckled, mouth curling with a small but decidedly proud leer. "Have I?"

  "Hoo, yeah." I blew out a tight breath, feeling my pulse slow, return to normal. And—was that afterglow?

  Rodrian laughed and pulled me closer, snuggling me against his chest. "You've been holding back, too. I always knew you were something special, but...wow. That was hot."

  "Hot, huh?" I
grinned into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see my face. It shouldn't have meant that much to hear him say something like that.

  A muffled thump sounded from the foyer as the front door slammed. The clatter and the racket that drifted in under the doors announced Shiloh's arrival. Brianda's voice, too, as she continued a lecture in true Thurzo style.

  I pulled back, suddenly self-conscious. The tiny voice of protest suddenly seemed loud enough to listen to again. "Kids are home, dear."

  "Yeah." He laughed softly. "Um, Soph..."

  "Sophie?" Shiloh's voice echoed in the foyer, growing louder as she approached the den. "You in here?"

  "Yeah, Shy." I shook my head at him apologetically. Whatever he wanted to say would have to wait.

  "She can't hear you, Soph."

  "Why not?" Before I could press further, the door clicked open. "We're in here, Shy."

  "Who's we? Oh. Hey, Dad. Thanks for treating me like a lost cat. Did you really have to send her looking for me?" She jerked a thumb at her sister, who now stood silently in the doorway, arms crossed, blocking any attempt of Shiloh's escape. "Why not send patrol cars with flashing lights and ninjas dropping out of the sky? It'd be a lot more subtle and maybe I'd still have friends by the time your goons haul me off."

  "Maybe next time don't disappear like that. Sophie called when you didn't show up or answer your phone. Do you have any idea how worried she was? Hand over your keys." Rodrian went into full-out Mad Dad Mode and bossed a blue streak at her. He gave Shiloh a leveling look which took the buoyancy out of her expression. "You broke curfew again."

  "But..."

  "But nothing. Be glad I don't restrict you to the grounds. Now, get. I'll see you both tomorrow. I've got more work to do."

  Shiloh left mumbling but I caught every other word as she headed up the stairs to her room. They weren't happy words.

  Brianda followed her out, making sure she made it upstairs. I heard the clacks of her boot heels on the tiles of the foyer. I'd only taken a quick admiring glance at her boots when she'd come in; they were made of brown, worn leather with spat-like wraps and antiqued buckles. Kind of bad-ass military style, which matched her canvas pants and leather blazer.