Brandon looked up at the second-floor window. He noticed Sabrina did not close the curtains or the shade as she undressed. He lost sight of her when he stepped up on the covered porch.
“I’ve gone out of my way to protect Sabrina from my past lives, both human and vampire. I’ve never told her about my work, and she never asked. Maybe now’s the time to correct that oversight, just in case the information will help her protect herself better,” Brandon said, thinking aloud. He locked the front door while Hadrian checked the back.
The sheer lace curtains in the living room let in the predawn light. Sunrise threatened to breach the horizon at any moment. Time was up.
Hadrian shook his head. “Oscar Wilde was right about a woman wanting to be your last love, but Sabrina isn’t a woman,” he said.
Brandon stared at him as if the man had grown another head and turned green. “I can assure you. She’s a woman,” he said, a little defensively. Hadrian may have wanted to see her as his little girl, but the little girl grew up long ago.
“That’s not what I mean. She’s a demi-goddess and possibly a goddess in her own right. She’s no ordinary woman. To think she’ll react like a human would be to underestimate her. For your own sake, keep certain work-related details to yourself for the time being. Be honest about your past romances, but leave how we make money out of the conversation,” Hadrian advised.
“She made it a point to let me know she didn’t want to hear about my sorted affairs. I’ve never denied her information and never wanted to seem secretive. She was the one who said the past didn’t matter. She wanted our marriage to be a clean slate without the baggage. I’ve felt guilty about not confessing every detail, but she seemed to think she would be happier not knowing,” Brandon said. It seemed strange to think his father-in-law knew more about his past than his wife.
“Her mother was the same way. In love, I was a typical Roman emperor. I had no true affection for my wife and had many affairs with both men and women. Aradia never wanted to hear about it. She said we shouldn’t fret over things we can’t change, but nothing in my past was able to come back to haunt me after the first century of being undead. Think carefully and let’s get a full day’s sleep,” Hadrian said.
Brandon felt the first sting of sunlight on his face. Now the outside of him matched the inside. Guilt prickled at him from the core of his being.
They made their way upstairs. The dark hall shielded them from the sun, but both men seemed anxious. They paused long enough for Brandon to open the door.
Shafts of light poured into the room from the unprotected window. Sabrina lay sleeping in a shaft of light. The golden glow made her pale skin look rosy and alive. She nervously bit at her lower lip in her sleep. Somehow, the sun made her fangs seem more like normal teeth. Her long mass of blue-black curls piled on the pillow behind her gave her a dark halo in the light.
His gazed trailed down her body, outlined perfectly by the thin, lightweight silk sheet. Her breasts rose and fell with each slow, steady breath. The dip to her waist and curve of her hip ended with the long line of her legs. The sheet sank in slightly in a V-shape at her groin.
Brandon felt his cock get hard just seeing her like this. Her beautiful face with its Romanesque nose and delicate features belonged to him. He thought of how glorious those breasts felt in his mouth as he teased and toyed with her nipples. He wanted her, wanted to take her just as she was, but the sunlight prevented him from acting on his desires.
“The sun made her mother look just like that. My boy, I envy you. To love a goddess is one thing. To have a goddess love you back is no small feat, but to have a goddess who would alter the universe for you is a treasure too great to comprehend. Cherish these moments,” Hadrian said with a note of sadness and went to his room.
Brandon watched Sabrina for a moment longer before darting into the room and pulling the blinds and curtains. His skin blistered slightly, even though he moved as fast as possible. A human would never have seen him, but nothing outran sunlight.
He waited for the blisters to heal before attempting to remove his clothes. If anything stuck to a burned spot, it hurt twice as much to pull off the fused fabric. He knew better, and waited for his skin to repair itself before undresssing.
Sabrina barely seemed to notice when he got into bed beside her. Her eyes fluttered as though she were dreaming. Her upper lip retracted enough to make her fangs noticeable.
Brandon both envied and pitied his wife. He loved her dearly but wished he could stand out in the sun with her. Since learning her transformation to vampire did not completely change her, as it did him, he wanted her to live a full life. Instead, she kept to the dark hours and refused to accept a life different from his. He tried to give her expensive, exotic foods she’d never experienced growing up, but she rejected any nourishment except blood. If he knew what to offer her, he would have a feast of it in her honor, just to get her to eat real food.
If I could live in the sun like her, I would.
It had been centuries of darkness. Only when movies went to color did he see the brilliant blue of the daytime sky. Until then, he had forgotten what it was like to feel the warmth on his face and touch the hot ground under his bare feet.
Brandon drifted off to sleep for the day to the remembered sounds of hot sand shifting underfoot and the smell of wild animals waiting for their turn in the arena. Somewhere in his mind, the memory became a dream.
The crowds cheered with each blow of the short swords. Shields clanked and rattled as chains and weapons glanced off the metal skins. Horses screamed and hooves thundered.
Down below in the Coliseum’s staging area, men prayed to their gods. The dark corridors filled with the stench of blood, sweat, adrenaline, and testosterone. A lingering hint of death stayed trapped in the wooden support beams and the scraps of fabric soaked with body fluids thrown in pails. The smell of burning torches mixed with the sounds of prisoners screaming and animals brought him closer to his goddess.
Instead of reinforcing his fears, the heady concoction gave him focus. He never asked her to spare his life. He never begged for anything. His one request remained the same—to die well, so that the she may have the honor of his righteous death.
Time after time, he fought before the crowds. Time and time again, he walked away the victor. At this rate, his freedom could be won soon, or so the trainers told him. That hope stayed with him throughout every match.
Brandon wanted to live as a free man or die trying. His sins against Rome were nothing more than his desire to work where he pleased doing what he wanted, to earn a living, and raise a free family. Being born as a slave in the imperial household was the best most slaves could hope for, but he wanted more. The day he ran away ended his time as a slave. With Hadrian’s influence, he was given a choice when caught—go to the mines or go to the arena. The usual punishment was death. Suddenly, the offer held more appeal.
The mines meant grueling work with little food, less sleep, and no hope of escape. They also came with a two- to three-year life expectancy. At least being a gladiator offered the glimmer of hope and freedom. The food and women flowed freely. Once in a while, a noble woman paid handsomely for the company of a champion. None of this existed in the mines. He took his chances and took up the gladius.
One night, as he lay on his bed thinking over his life, Brandon glimpsed a wing tip brush by his cell window. He peeked out between the wooden slats enough to see the most beautiful creature land in the training court. He saw her rich robes and gold cords. Everything about her spoke of her power and influence. He watched her in awe.
She folded her wings behind her and walked around the equipment. She ran her hands along the wooden poles they assaulted and over the practice swords. She stroked the leather girdles they used to lessen the blows and protect the midsection from practice injuries. At one point, she picked up the overseer’s whip, allowing the length of braided leather to slip over her open palm.
An altar set up on one side
of the training area held a statue similar to her. The fine, masterfully crafted marble paled in comparison. Although she seemed pleased to see it, she picked up the single coin offering placed there by the school’s owner and frowned.
She looked, scanning the surrounding buildings, until she found the window with the most ornate curtains fluttering in the light breeze. Her frown disappeared, replaced with a furrowed brow. Opening her wings, she raised one hand, pointing to the window.
The sound of a breaking dish and cries of pain echoed through the courtyard. Men running down the halls and across the courtyard brought torches and lamps. None of them seemed to see the winged woman. The owner’s room lit up as if the sun rose there. Shouts for the physician did no good. The school’s owner died.
The winged woman flapped twice and rose into the air. She looked directly at Brandon and smiled.
“There is no escape. Maintaining balance is a requirement, as is tribute,” she whispered into his mind. She dropped the lonely coin back to the ground.
“Who are you?” Brandon asked. Hadrian put this woman on coins, but no one ever said her name, for fear of calling her attention to them.
“Nemesis,” she replied aloud and rose out of sight.
He needed to know more about this goddess, to understand her, to love her.
Brandon woke to a dark room and an empty bed. The curtains and blinds left the windows exposed. The night sky greeted him like an old friend.
On the other side of the meadow, a figure, pale and delicate, stood out against the black background of trees. It seemed to whisper in his mind, but the message sounded garbled. The words refused to make sense. It tried to come closer, but a sleek lioness growled and swatted at it from under the oak tree. The figure backed off and remained along the tree line. After a few minutes, the figure opened a pair of pure white wings and rose into the night sky.
Brandon felt a sharp pain in his gut. The burning made him relive the moment his human life ended. A gladius buried to the hilt pinned him to the arena floor. The audience cheered as he gritted his teeth, doing his best not to cry out in pain. If this was his mortal end, he wanted it said he died well. He wanted to look death in the eye and not flinch.
A sharp sting on his cheek deviated from the memory. Blow after blow landed on his face. By the fourth, Brandon realized he was still asleep and woke up completely.
Hadrian drew back his hand for another slap but dropped it when Brandon tried to sit up.
Sabrina stood by the door with both hands over her mouth. The worried look and the pink-tinged tears on her face told how afraid for him she was. She lowered her hands and swallowed hard.
“My boy, I believe it’s time you had that talk,” Hadrian said, glancing back at Sabrina and then looking back at Brandon.
Brandon just nodded. She needed to know, and he needed to tell her. But where to start? How could he protect her from things he could never change?
As Hadrian left, he laid a hand on Sabrina’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. “Don’t be too hard on him. Times were different then, and you weren’t even born. Vampires and goddesses are a lot alike. They both feel things deeply and without the hindrances of time. If I doubted he loved you for one second, I would kill him myself,” he said softly and left the room. The door latched behind him.
Brandon knew Hadrian was serious about killing him. When it came to being the son-in-law of the most important vampire in the world, the pros came with huge perks, but the cons were equally large. An unhappy or heartbroken daughter meant a very final death.
Sabrina stood there staring at him for a moment.
Did he talk in his sleep? What did he say? He felt confused. What happened to make her go get Hadrian?
“Sabrina, I don’t understand. Please, sweetheart, explain it to me,” Brandon said, hoping to figure out the problem. He felt helpless. Unless he knew what the specifics, he had no way of coming up with a solution to her problem.
“I saw her, too,” Sabrina said quietly. “In the meadow. She stood there bold as brass and told me you belonged to her. You cheated the death she arranged.” Another tear fell down her cheek.
“No, sweetheart, I don’t, and I didn’t. At one time, every gladiator belonged to her, but I died on the arena floor. She abandoned me. Hadrian saved me a week before faking his own death and kept me hidden. I was always one of his favorite slaves. He saved my life twice,” Brandon explained.
“She said you were her lover,” Sabrina said, hardly above a whisper.
“I thought you didn’t want to know,” Brandon whispered back.
“I thought I didn’t, but she said things I can’t unhear. I guess there are times when you need to know something, even if you don’t want to,” Sabrina said so quietly Brandon barely heard her.
“As a gladiator, I had many lovers. As a vampire, I had countless more, but I didn’t feel anything for them. They filled the time and my bed. That’s all. I love you. Without you, my life isn’t worth living. The past is behind me. You’re my future,” Brandon confessed. He meant every word of it.
“She said…” Sabrina’s voice trailed off weakly.
Brandon leapt off the bed and put both hands on the wall beside her head. He leaned in close enough to kiss her. “I don’t give a damn what she said. I choose you. I’ve followed you to hell and back. Literally. You’re the only woman I plan to love for the rest of forever,” he said and brushed her lips with his.
He expected her to hold still, to let him kiss her gently.
Instead, she kicked his feet out from under him and shoved him to the floor. A feral look filled her eyes. She parted her lips and ran her tongue along the top edge, ignoring the blood when she nicked the pink flesh on her fangs. She looked over to the window.
“Mine,” she said with a growl.
Chapter 5
Sabrina stared at the window. No one stared back, but she felt sure someone unseen waited outside. Her pendant gave off a low hum against her skin. The lioness within, that part of her that metaphysically represented her inner goddess, growled low and menacingly at the concealed force.
With Brandon under her, she let her lioness’s magic fill her, giving in to the big cat’s desire to stake her claim. She snarled at the window and raised her hand. With a flick of her wrist, she covered the window in dark shadows.
A hazy film radiated out from the window, layering every square inch of wall space. It crept across the ceiling and floor, making a protective barrier between the room and the outside world.
“Sabrina—”
Brandon started to say something, but she cut him off with a hard, forceful kiss. He gave in to her and wrapped his large, muscular arms around her. His tongue worked its way carefully between her fangs and delicately probed the inside of her mouth.
The lioness seemed satisfied at Sabrina claiming her prize. The queen of cats retreated, giving Sabrina more room.
Brandon gathered the loose cotton gown in his hands and wriggled it up as far as he could without Sabrina needing to move. As she lifted her body weight, he broke the kiss only long enough to whisk the fabric over her head.
Sabrina’s long, curly, blue-black hair surrounded them like a soft curtain. Her skin felt warm compared to his. She leaned in, pressing her bare breasts to his chest, and kissed him again.
His cock stiffened as his hands ran the length of her back. He stopped, gripping her ass with both hands. Lifting his hips, he applied pressure to her body.
Sabrina enjoyed the feel of him as she sat astride his hips. She shifted her body enough to line his rock-hard cock up with her damp slit. The stiff rod rubbed her clit just right, sending a ripple of pleasure through her body.
He belonged to her, and she wanted him, body and soul. The lioness wanted to mark him with her scent, to prove her territory included him. This man, who slept naked in her bed, had no other mistress, no other goddess, but her.
Her slippery juices flowed between her velvety folds, coating his thick shaft as she moved. H
er clit became a sensitive, swollen pearl. She felt her nipples rise into tight pebbles that needed to feel his wet tongue lap at them. She rose up enough to offer her nipples to him.
Brandon sucked on them in turn, allowing his fangs to graze her flesh but not break the skin. His cock pulsed against her body, practically begging for more. Letting go of her breasts, he turned his face away from her and exposed his neck. Most of the time, he discouraged feeding on one another during sex. That he offered meant he gave her his complete trust.
Sabrina positioned her body so the head of his cock aligned with her wet, willing cunt. As she lowered her body over his cock, she pressed her fangs into the side of his neck. His flesh parted for her just as she opened for his cock. Blood filled her mouth and his thick rod filled her pussy.
The sweet, tangy, hot, wet liquid satisfied her thirst. Mouthful after mouthful, she drank him down as she rode his cock. Her pussy quivered with anticipation. Her lust for blood and sex swirled inside her. One felt as provocative as the other. To feed and fuck, to claim his flesh and his affection brought triumph and pride.
In her mind, she projected her claim over Brandon, sending the ripple of thought outside of the protective shadows. “Mine. Mine and no other’s.”
She stopped feeding and rose up fully to her knees. Her weight drove him deeper into her body. Lifting her chin, she ran a hand into her hair and squeezed a fistful until it pulled hard against her scalp. The other hand found her clit. Using the pads of her fingers, she drew tight circles over and around the sensitive pearl.
Their eyes meet. She watched as he gave in to her.
Brandon’s brow furrowed. His jaw clenched. The throbbing cock buried in her pussy filled her with sticky cream. A guttural noise escaped his throat as he came.
The Jewel's Treasure Page 4