Heart of a Warrior

by Theodora Lane

  Men. Fiona sighed.

  How was she supposed to know he’d planned some big rescue? He was probably used to being the hero. Guys like him were…were there many men like Nic? Not that she’d seen in this city or anywhere else she’d ever been.

  Holding the jersey to her face, she inhaled. It smelled like him: musky, clean, male. She could use a bath, but she was too tired. She reconsidered just sleeping naked and then shrugged on the shirt anyway.

  She pulled back the quilt and slipped between the coolness of the sheets. It felt good to lie down and relax. Her muscles felt like they’d been on tight lockdown for days, not hours. Fiona snuggled deeper, pulled the quilt up to her chin, and let herself drift. Despite her worries about being too wound up to sleep, as soon as she closed her eyes, she went out.

  •

  Nic headed down the hall to the living room and fell onto the couch, pulled off his boots, and dropped them next to his feet. His hand rubbed the bulge in his jeans, and he moaned.

  “I’m going to see her naked body every time I close my eyes.”

  “What’s so bad about that?”

  “I won’t be able to sleep.”

  “Just do that thing you do, Nic. You always sleep like a log afterward.”

  “Shut up, Cho.”

  “I wish I had hands.”

  Nic ran his hand through his hair in a frustrated swipe.

  “I just have to stay away from her. Think like a professional.”

  “Not like a man who hasn’t had a woman in…how long did you say?”

  “I didn’t, and that’s beside the point.”

  “She’s right down the hall. Go to her. After all, she was almost killed tonight.”

  “I’m the last thing she needs. Besides, she’s a virgin.”

  “There has to be a first time.”

  “She’s waiting for someone special.”

  “You’re special, Nic.”

  “Shut up, Cho.”

  “Is your body going to vibrate all night?”

  Nic groaned, stood, and tossed a magazine from the coffee table toward the tree. Half-hearted at best, the attempt landed short. Cho skittered back to the safety of the trunk. He flicked his tongue out as Nic stalked out of the room, down the hall, and into his bedroom. The door shut behind him.

  Even I can see she’s the one.

  Chapter Three

  “Hey!” Ivan called to the young man standing on the sidewalk holding the pizza box. "We’re over here, two houses down."

  He came up to the guy, his fingers wrapped around the handle of the sap in his pocket.

  “My last run of the night, and the dispatcher gets the damn address wrong. Stupid dispatch bitch. She never gets the addresses right. This time, I'm going to complain to the manager when I get back and get her fired for sure."

  "Sorry, but it's not her fault. My son gave her the wrong address." Ivan smiled, and the man shrugged.

  Following Ivan down the block, the delivery guy climbed the steps and entered the front door as Ivan held it open.

  “I’ll just get my wallet. How much is the total?”

  “Seventeen eighty-three,” the guy answered.

  Ivan gripped the sap in his pocket. The driver was about eighteen, not bad-looking, but sort of on the small side. He’d be easy to take.

  The guy stepped farther into the hall, and Ivan took the pizza from him. It was a shame to throw it out — they always smelled so good. Remembering the last time he had tried to eat food, the temptation to taste it slipped away. He hated throwing up.

  Ivan put the pizza on the foyer table. When the kid turned, Ivan hit him with the sap, and the guy crumpled to the floor. After scooping him up, he carried him to the basement door under the stairs and down to Annie.

  “He’s not dead, is he?” Her hands twisted the hem of her shirt.

  Ivan laid him down on the couch.

  “No, just knocked out. I thought it would be easier for you this way.” He gave her a smile.

  “Thanks, Ivan.” She stood there peering down at the man. “No killing, please.”

  “No killing. Are you ready?”

  “Can you go first?”

  “Sure, baby. Watch an old pro.” Sitting down next to the man, he turned the guy’s head to the side and exposed his neck. “Now, find the right place.” He bent over and used his tongue to find the pulse. “Extend your teeth and bite.” He opened his mouth, teeth ready, and then bit down. The man made no sound.

  Waves of desire, hunger, and excitement washed over Ivan in the initial rush of blood down his throat. He quieted his mind and listened for the heartbeat. The young man’s pulse was strong and steady, each beat pushing his blood into Ivan’s mouth. Careful not to take too much, he was aware of just how hungry he was and that he’d have to feed soon.

  •

  Annie smelled the blood. The scent filled her nostrils and went straight to her brain. Her vision tightened on the young man as he lay there with Ivan draped over him. She whimpered.

  Metallic. Hot. She wasn’t sure how she could smell hot, but she did. As she passed her tongue over her lips in anticipation, the sharp points of her teeth raked it. She couldn’t remember willing them to lengthen; it had just happened. Like blinking or breathing. Taking a deep breath, she controlled the urge to join Ivan at the man’s neck. Forcing her hands together to keep them still, she stayed rooted to the spot.

  Ivan sat up and licked his blood stained lips. “There, it’s easy.” Standing, he took Annie in his arms, his eyes forcing her to look at him instead of the unconscious man. “I’m going to warn you, Annie. This is a powerful sensation. You’ve been starved for months. You may lose control. Whatever happens, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  “Okay.” She nodded and took his place on the couch. She looked closely at the man’s neck. The marks Ivan made were fading, but she could still see where he had bitten to use as a guide. A growing need filled her.

  Annie opened her mouth and found the pulse with her tongue as she quivered in anticipation. She closed her eyes and bit down hard. Hot blood, so much hotter than Draco or Ivan’s, pumped hard into her mouth, flowed over her tongue and down her throat. Much more delicious. More sensual. She tingled with pleasure, and then as the blood flowed, it superheated, igniting an inferno inside her. As her nipples peaked, she never realized it would feel so incredibly sexual.

  Her hunger overwhelmed her. Starvation had taken its toll on her and swept her away like a leaf in the wind, helpless to fight the urge. It was a monster, exploding from deep inside her, clawing its way out. She grabbed his shoulders with her hands, clamped down firmer, and fed. Beyond the fury screaming like the wind in her ears, like the sound of waves crashing against the shore, his heartbeat echoed like a drum, driving her on to finish it, to drain every drop of the sweet, life-giving elixir from his body.

  She should stop, but didn’t want to stop. As the bloodlust raged inside her, she lost the battle and surrendered, not caring if she ever stopped or if he died; only wanting to quench the thirst that burned in her.

  The orgasm washed over her as she emptied the man.

  •

  “Goddamn it.” Ivan pulled her away from the man’s throat. He’d let her go too far, hoping she could control herself. With a whimper, Annie released the man and slipped off the couch onto her knees.

  Ivan knelt down and pulled her to him. Panting, she turned to look at her victim, his blood still on her lips.

  “What did I do?” she wailed. “Is he dead?”

  Ivan touched the man’s throat. A pulse beat feebly.

  “No, he’s not dead, just unconscious,” Ivan whispered into her hair.

  “I couldn’t stop, Ivan. I swear! I couldn’t!” She clutched his shirt. “It felt so good. I was so hungry. Jesus, I don’t want to be this way! I hate being like this!” She pushed away from Ivan, lurched to her feet, and ran to the sleeping alcove. She threw herself onto the bed, sobbing.

  Ivan looked at the young man a
nd sighed. He walked over to her.

  “Look, he’ll just be out for a while, sleep it off, and wake up tired. No real harm done, Annie.”

  She nodded, her face buried in the pillows.

  He felt helpless, unable to make it better for her. He didn’t even know where to start. Of course, Annie would never take the easy way. Draco had truly been a fool if he’d thought he could break her by starving her or keeping her naked. Right now, she struggled to find her way, but deep down, Ivan knew she was tough enough to survive.

  He wasn’t quite sure he understood what she was going through. Couldn’t even remember if he’d felt the same way some four hundred and fifty years ago. To tell the truth, he never thought about it, especially when he fed and satisfied his own bloodlust.

  He returned to the couch, easily slung the man over his shoulder, and headed up the stairs.

  — • —

  “Baby.” After returning from putting the delivery guy back in his car, Ivan sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Annie’s hair. “It’ll get easier. You’ll learn control. You’ll be a vampire on your own terms in time.”

  She turned to face him, tears streaked down her now-reddened cheeks, her eyes puffy from crying. The look of guilt, embarrassment, and failure dimmed her once-bright eyes.

  Damn, it made his chest hurt. If anyone had failed, it had been him. He’d promised to help her keep control, and he hadn’t. Silently, he swore he’d never let her down again.

  “You understand how I feel, don’t you?” She begged him.

  He understood she hated what she’d become and therefore hated what he was—a vampire. A killer. A monster. Damned. Abandoned by God.

  He had no illusions about what he’d become and had accepted it long ago. Seeing the truth of it in her eyes felt like a blade driven into his chest, only there was no merciful death. He would live on, knowing in her eyes he was hideous, an aberration, an undead creature, not a man.

  And worse, Annie would become just like him some day. She might hold out five years or fifty, but eventually her soul would succumb to the corruption of the bloodlust. The longer she lived as a vampire, the further she’d grow from her humanity, until there was nothing left of it.

  Ivan didn’t want to live to see that day. He wanted her as she was right now, young, determined, uncorrupted. If she stayed with him too long, his corruption and decayed soul would spill over onto hers, tainting her with his stench.

  I won’t let that happen.

  “Sure, I understand,” he lied, and stretched out next to her on the bed. She lay apart from him, facing away, curled in a small ball around her belly.

  His gut felt her rejection, fire-hot, burning.

  "Promise me, Ivan. Promise you won't kill anyone again. You don't need to kill to feed."

  Ivan closed his eyes. She didn't know what she asked of him. He didn't know if he could keep that promise. To be something he wasn't.

  "I need to know you understand. That you'll help me with this. I can't kill, can't bear the thought of it or of you killing. Promise me."

  Fuck. Choices. He hated making them. Annie's way or the way he'd been for hundreds of years?

  She started to drift off. Aware it was almost morning, the pull of the end of the night slowed his breathing and the beating of his heart. At dawn, they’d fall into a dreamless, suspended sleep, barely breathing, barely alive. Completely vulnerable.

  "I promise."

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  “Never.”

  Her breathing slowed. He held on to consciousness as he watched the last rise and fall of her shoulders.

  Ivan leaned over her, touched her cheek with his lips, and inhaled her scent. He pulled her to him, cradled her in his arms, closed his eyes, and slipped away.

  — • —

  Fiona felt a light pressure on her stomach. She opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed into the room and smacked her in the face.

  God, did last night really happen?

  She felt the pressure again as it moved up her belly. She looked down.

  I guess it did.

  A small, dull green face with shiny black eyes stared back at her, head cocked slightly to the side as if contemplating some question. Nic’s lizard registered in her sleep-fogged brain. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

  “Hello there. What’s your name?” She didn’t expect an answer.

  “I’m Cho.”

  She blinked. Her mouth dropped open. After a long moment, she narrowed her eyes and spoke.

  “You were the voice I was hearing.”

  “Got it in one. Beautiful and smart.”

  “You can talk?” Disbelief tinged her voice.

  “Do you see my lips move?”

  “Nooo.” She sounded unsure.

  “You hear my thoughts.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “So, you can hear mine?”

  “Right again.”

  She tried to think her questions.

  “Like now? Do you hear me now?”

  “Yep.”

  “Cool. Can Nic hear you too?”

  “Of course.”

  “Does he know you can talk to me?”

  “Yeah, sort of. He knows you can hear me sometimes.”

  “Bet he’s not happy about it.” She snorted.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, if I had a lizard that talked only to me, I’d be upset if some stranger came along and started talking to it too.”

  “I’m not an ‘it.’”

  The lizard came closer and nestled between her breasts.

  “You’re male, then.”

  “That’s right. All male. Hey, I have this spot I need to have scratched.”

  “I’ll just bet you do. You’re right, all male.” Fiona rolled her eyes and chuckled.

  “Where is it?”

  “My tummy.”

  “Okay. Roll over and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Cho’s tongue flicked out and touched her chin, stuck to it for a split second, and then disappeared back into his mouth. He turned over, exposing his white underbelly to her.

  “You’re just a charmer, aren’t you?”

  She reached out a fingertip and stroked him from the underside of his jaw to the base of his tail.

  She felt a psychic shudder go through the lizard.

  “Hey, is this some sort of lizard sex thing?”

  “Absolutely. Do it again, baby. Make me yours.”

  She stroked him again. His toes curled, and his long body writhed with saurian pleasure.

  “I think I’d better stop. Nic might not like this. Does he touch you this way?”

  “Hell no, I don’t go in for that. All male, remember?”

  “Right. You need to get laid, Cho.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “By a female lizard, not me.”

  He rolled back onto his feet and flicked her with his tongue again. It tickled her.

  “You taste good.”

  “Shut up, Cho.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes, laughed, and sat up in bed. Cho skittered off to slink under the door and back to his tree. She walked into the bath, turned on the shower, and stripped off the T-shirt. Taking a shower had never felt so good, but slipping back into her old clothes took the clean feeling away.

  Her tummy rumbling, she headed to the kitchen.

  •

  Nic sat at the counter eating a bowl of cereal.

  “Wheaties?” She picked up the box and laughed.

  “Breakfast of champions.” He winked at her. Damn, she looked good. All wet from the shower, still glowing from the hot water. He could smell her clean soap scent and the shampoo from where he sat. His mind flashed to what he’d like to do to her in the shower.

  “Sounds good.” She hunted for a bowl and spoon, and then fixed the cereal.

  “Listen,” she began. “Thanks for all the hospitality, but I want to go home now. So, are you taking me, or do I have to call a cab?” she said b
etween bites.

  “I’ll take you. But I don’t think you should stay there tonight, Fiona.” He poured a large glass of milk and downed half of it.

  She shrugged. “I need some fresh clothes.”

  “We’re safe during the day, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “And I have to call work and let them know I’m taking some time off. That sort of stuff.” She put a spoonful of cereal into her mouth and chewed.

  “Fine. Let’s go.” He stood and chugged down the rest of the milk in his glass. Rinsing out his bowl, he placed his dishes in the dishwasher. Fiona gobbled down the last of her cereal and put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher too.

  Nic walked to the tree and looked at the lizard.

  “Stay here, Cho, we won’t be gone long.”

  “All right. ’Bye, Fiona.”

  “’Bye, Cho.”

  Nic turned slowly to Fiona. She wore a lopsided smirk on her face. Her hand rested on her cocked hip, just daring him to say something.

  “That’s just great.” Nic snatched up his keys, threw open the front door, and headed to the Jag, Fiona right behind him.

  — • —

  They pulled into her driveway behind her car.

  “Thank God!” Fiona exclaimed as she opened the door and ran to the car. Unbelievably, her purse lay on the ground where she’d dropped it.

  Nic whistled in appreciation. “Must be a really good neighborhood.”

  “It is. My grandmother used to live here. When she died, I inherited the house.” She paused at the front door with her keys in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the front door and let Nic in.

  Looking around, Nic said, “I like it.”

  Minimal furniture, but well-done and comfortable, with neutral colors on the walls and grass mats under foot, she’d worked hard to make it nice, so of course it pleased her when he complimented the room, like she’d feel if anyone said something nice about it.

  “Have a seat. I’ll be out in a minute.” She headed to her bedroom. Nic followed. When she opened the door and stepped inside, Nic stood behind her.

  “I thought I said have a seat. Not follow me to my bedroom.” She eyed him and then walked to her closet.