Kissing her gently, he grabbed the straps of her gown and ripped it open, exposing her flesh. Without waiting for her reaction, he quickly latched on to a firm, peaked nipple and sucked it deeply into his mouth.
Sabrina grabbed his head and held him to her. Instead of being outraged over having her gown ruined, she felt a thrill of excitement run through her. Wetness drifted along her pussy’s soft folds. With a little effort, she managed to get her leg parted enough to settle his body against her crotch. The extra weight made her clit throb with need.
He moved to the other breast, sucking it hard enough to puncture her flesh with his fangs. He moaned as he lapped at the blood. Slipping his hands under her ribs, he lifted her enough to press his mouth harder to her, forcing his fangs a little deeper.
She felt his cock stiffen under his sleep pants and rub her swelling clit. The sensitive nub of flesh begged for the attention he showed her breasts. The anticipation made her wetness turn to a flood of slippery juices, perfuming the air with her desire.
Brandon must have caught the scent. He made a more guttural, primal noise deep in his throat. Letting go of her body, he repositioned himself between her thighs and ran his tongue along her slit.
Sabrina felt like a bolt of lightning shot through her body, electrifying her core. Heat and need radiated from her pussy and overpowered her senses. Fingers penetrated her cunt and pumped in and out of her body as his lips worked against her clit. The pleasure rode her higher and higher until a wave of passion crashed into her as her orgasm raced through her. She allowed it to wash over her. Her cunt quivered and gripped his fingers. Her slick nectar flooded her pussy, coating his hand.
Brandon quickly shifted from working her clit to licking and sucking her fluids from her skin. He whispered Latin words into her flesh between laps. Parting her lips, he darted his tongue into her pussy and drank down the little puddle welled up inside her.
Sabrina loved letting him enjoy her juices, but she wanted more. Reaching down, she gently nudged his head up to look him in the eyes. “Please,” she begged.
That single word was all the prompting Brandon needed. He pushed down his pants and exposed his engorged cock. He dropped forward over her, catching himself before he fell on her. Pressing his thick rod against her, he let her slippery nectar act as a lubricant and teased her clit with the tip of his dick.
She felt another wave of passion build, sending signals directly from her clit to her core. If he kept this up, she might come again. If he stopped, she might just explode for real. She did not have to wait long for him to decide what to do.
He pulled back and allowed the head of his cock to trace the slit down to her opening. He glanced up at her as if waiting for permission. She whispered another pained “Please” and he drove his cock home, filling her to the brim. Slowly easing back out, he thrust into her quickly.
She cried out as his pace allowed her pleasure but denied her another orgasm. “Please, please,” she begged, hoping he would steady his pace and allow her to come.
“Please what?” Brandon asked. “Please stop? Please what?”
She cried out again as he drove his cock back into her, reaching the limits of her body. “Please, don’t stop,” she managed to say, but the other things she wanted to tell him refused to leave her mouth.
He pulled out slowly once more.
No longer able to take the buildup, she planted her feet on the bed and rolled him on to his back. She looked down on him through strands of curly, blue-black hair. Her weight pressed his cock further into her pussy, giving her a deep-seated sense of satisfaction. She found her rhythm and slid up and down the full length of his dick.
Brandon squeezed her hips, encouraging her to go faster. “That’s right, sweetheart. God, I love being inside you,” he said.
Her long mass of curls bounced and swung around her, brushing her breasts as she moved. The combination of feeling his cock buried in her and the caressing of her nipples sent her over the edge once more. Her pussy gripped his hard shaft and quaked with pure ecstasy as she came. She rode the pleasure to the very end. She felt light-headed, as if she were about to fade away and travel to another place. Only Brandon’s fingers digging into her skin kept her grounded.
He lifted her up slightly as she sagged forward. He pounded his hips into her, thrusting his cock into her sticky pools. A moment later, his cock throbbed with need and spilled his creamy seed into her. He pulled her in close and held her for a few moments as his orgasm sent shivers along his body.
Sabrina swept a pile of hair out of her way and kissed his cheek. She gave a chuckle and smiled. “Good evening,” she said.
He smiled back. “Good evening to you, too,” he said back.
The orb on Sabrina’s nightstand gave a loud chime.
“Well,” she said, “his timing could have been worse. Could have been better, too.” She sighed and looked around for her robe. Pulling it up from the bottom of the bed, she slipped her arms into the sleeves and wrapped it around her, not bothering to tie it closed. She slid off Brandon’s body, making sure to block his view of the orb. This was more for Charon’s sake than Brandon’s. She pulled the silk square of fabric off the crystal ball and saw Charon’s eyes staring back at her.
“Hi. What can I do for you this evening?” Sabrina greeted the Ferryman.
He just glared at her.
Chapter 16
“Is it true?” Charon asked, disdain dripping from his voice. He glanced away as if the sight of her upset him. Charon’s jaw flexed in the same way Brandon’s did when he tried very hard to control his temper.
“I’m going to need a little more to go on than that. Is what true?” Sabrina inquired. She wondered what could have possibly upset Charon enough to call her in such a foul mood.
He glanced back at her but seemed to choose a point behind her to stare at, instead of looking directly at her. “I was told you are Mars’s new student. How can you deny me companionship and then go running off after the first celestial to cross your path? Was I not magical enough?” His breathing rasped in and out. Clearly, his temper was getting the better of him.
“I think you’ve been misinformed. He came to me in my dream durning the day and I turned him down flat. Well, I guess you could call telling him no and then setting him on fire a rejection. I am not now, nor will I ever be, his student,” Sabrina said with complete confidence. She felt Brandon stiffen in the bed beside her.
Charon relaxed, but only slightly. The anger bled from his eyes and he took on a more contrite expression. “I see. If what you say is true, then I apologize for my rash behavior. I know what he expects of his students and was unhappy you had agreed so willingly. You truly are the only friend I have. Will you accept my apology?”
“Of course. Will you try to give me the benefit of the doubt in the future and not believe the first rumor you hear?” Sabrina asked. While not thrilled with the ferryman’s constant attention, she understood what it felt like live in isolation from the world around her. Growing up in a community as an outcast and second-class citizen did not garner her many friends. Until she met Brandon, she only ever had Aunt Eleanor and Clay.
“Yes, Sabrina Rivers Thorpe, I will try,” Charon said as the crystal orb went dark.
Sabrina tossed the square of fabric back over the clear, round gem. She shook her head and sighed. Picking up the discarded gladius, she held it up to look at the writing on the hilt.
“When were you going to tell me about your visitor?” Brandon asked with an acidic edge.
Sabrina sat up and looked down at him. “I haven’t had a chance to yet. We were just a tad busy, until Charon called. Just when was I supposed to toss that nugget of information into the mix? Between your orgasm or mine?” She felt suddenly hostile, more so than usual when he riled her. She glanced down at the blade to see it glowing slightly. She dropped it. The pale, golden glow vanished. “I don’t think I should hold that and discuss this with you. It seems to have a bad influence.”
Brandon picked it up. The blade flared to life, this time with a reddish glow. “I see what you mean. Think this thing holds some magic that feeds on negativity?”
“Or maybe it enhances the negative thoughts and actions of the people around it,” she replied. Thinking carefully, she wondered what other traits the gladius might possess. “It makes sense for the god of war to want to incite those sorts of feelings. Hate, ill-will, avarice. They all lead to fights and eventually war.”
“Delilah said Mars can trace his former toys. She thinks he might have followed the gladius here hoping to find Eleanor, but found you instead. Whatever his intentions were, finding you seems to have changed his plans.” Brandon leaned down and gently laid the short sword at the foot of the bed. The tension between them dissipated somewhat. He scooted back and took up his favorite position, leaning against the headboard with his arms behind his head. His well-muscled, naked body stretched down the length of hers. “Now, tell me about that dream,” he said with more ease.
Sabrina gave him every detail she could remember. “I always hated when my aunt would drill me in chemistry. I guess I owe her an apology, if I ever see her again. Who would have thought magnesium was part of the magical make-up?”
Thoughts played around Brandon’s eyes, although his face remained calm and expressionless. He breathed deeply and let it out slowly. “I’m not going to lie. The thought of him coming to you in your sleep bothers me. What if he tried to force himself on you? You’re my wife. I’m supposed to defend and protect you. How am I supposed to do that in your sleep? You can rescue me, but I can’t do the same for you,” he said, frustration filling his voice.
“Do you trust me?” Sabrina asked softly. Holding her breath, she hoped for the correct answer, the one that would make all his fears unnecessary.
He gave her a hard glare, as if insulted she should have to ask, and then relented with a nod. “Yes. I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust,” he answered.
She smiled. “In that case, I have a shop to get ready for its grand opening,” she said lightly. “One day at a time and one crisis at a time.” She leapt gracefully out of bed and bounded to her closet. Dropping her robe along the way, she quickly dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and a baby-pink athletic bra covered by a black V-neck tank top. Her favorite sneakers finished the ensemble. Raking her fingers through her hair, she pulled the mass of curls into to a ponytail holder with a few simple twists.
“Not Nemesis first? I’d think she would be more of a crisis than the shop,” Brandon said, reaching to grab his pajama pants.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten her,” Sabrina added. “I’m not leaving the house without extra insurance.” She scooped up the quiver of arrows and the shrunken bow and slung them across her back. She grabbed the gladius’s sheath and strapped it to her waist. Picking up the short sword carefully, she slid it into the leather holster until she heard the slight click of the metal hilt touching the metal cap on the sheath.
“How do you propose to get into town, looking like that, without drawing attention to yourself?” Brandon asked. His puzzled expression took on an air of amusement.
Sabrina thought about how Eleanor always had a weapon at hand. How? Did she call them from home to her? That didn’t seem practical. Then the answer hit her. Eleanor always wore them. She never summoned them from another place. She just made them visible or called them from her from her side.
Sabrina closed her eyes and thought about making the weapons invisible. Like Aunt Eleanor. Do it like Aunt Eleanor. She opened her eyes to see Brandon staring at her, his mouth slightly agape.
She checked herself in the dresser mirror. Everything looked normal. All the weapons still hung where she wore them before the effort to make them disappear. She felt like a fraudulent novice.
“Where did they go?” Brandon asked. He slid on his pants as he got out of bed. He ran his hands over her body. “I can’t find them. Can you get them back? I can’t let you leave the house alone without knowing you can call them.” He frantically searched the room.
Realization dawned on her. She looked directly at her body and saw nothing. Only the mirror told her the truth. “It worked!” She clapped and bounced in place. The weapons jingled with her and landed heavy against her body.
Brandon stopped searching and stared at her. “It worked?”
“Yep! I can see them in the mirror. I can feel their weight and know they’re on me, but you can’t! I can’t believe I did it,” she said, astounded. She pulled the gladius from its sheath. The short sword seemed to appear in her hand. The weapon disappeared again when she re-sheathed it. “Amazing!”
Brandon sighed with relief. He flashed a fang-filled smile. “That’s my girl!” He hurried to the closet and grabbed a white polo shirt and a pair of dark-blue jeans. His casual deck shoes finished his outfit.
The smell of warm blood hit Sabrina like a ton of bricks. Her mouth watered and her fangs ached to sink into a waiting neck. Since the night in their Atlanta penthouse she killed the hitmen after Hadrian, she craved the high she knew came from a kill. The rush reminded her what she truly was, what she chose to be. A vampire.
She knew the look on Brandon’s face. He, too, seemed to struggle to keep himself in check. The blood called to him every bit as much as it did her, maybe even more. Her father speculated part of her self-control so soon after being turned came from her magic. Centuries before blood banks and donation bags, he and Hadrian fed straight from the source. While she understood why they no longer did, she sympathized with their need.
“Let’s get down there before he drains the place dry,” Brandon said with an unspoken “again.”
In the kitchen, Hadrian hummed softly to himself as he sat three ceramic coffee mugs on the table. He gave Sabrina a wink when he offered to fill her cup. “You know. If you’re going to wear weapons at the table, Mea Dulcis, you should make an effort to not look like you’re wearing weapons at the table. You will give the game away. Sit back and relax. Try to forget they poke you in the ribs,” he said light-heartedly. He uncapped the blood bag and filled her cup nearly to the brim.
“How did you know?” Sabrina asked. If Brandon’s reaction was any indication, Hadrian should have been unable to see all the hardware.
He gave her an all-knowing smile and sat down in his seat. He passed the open bag to Brandon and picked up his mug, sipping it while still smiling. “Do you know what you call an unarmored Roman emperor, Mea Dulcis?” He asked the question in a way that made it seem rhetorical.
“No, what?” she said, playing along. She did not know his real answer but knew he was really using the question as a prompt for a lesson.
“A dead emperor,” he replied. “The trick is to look unarmed, at ease, and relaxed. Let the enemy think you have nothing to hide. His underestimation of you is the key to his downfall, should he be foolish enough to attack. However, you must be a convincing actor or the ruse will never work.” He drained his mug and smiled widely at her. Streaks of thick, red blood made his teeth and fangs stand out like bloody outlines. “Always be more lethal than those around you. When you become complacent, someone will always be waiting in the wings to take advantage.”
Brandon cleared his throat. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said with a hint of agitation breaking through his calm exterior. “For now, I think we should follow the old rule of business as usual and giving the appearance we aren’t worried.”
“Too right you are, my boy. Business as usual it is. Well, if you two will excuse me, I have some private business to attend to tonight. It will most likely be dawn before I get back, but don’t worry if I’m not back. I may have to spend the day in Atlanta,” Hadrian said, placing both palms flat on the table and pushing himself up to his full height. He muttered something about lawyers being a pain in the ass, and Cybil.
“Atlanta? Do you need me to go with you?” Brandon asked, looking as if he very much hoped Hadrian would turn down his offer. He glance
d at Sabrina only briefly.
“No, my boy, I don’t think so. That nasty bit of business with the two missing officials is under wraps. I just need to clean up a few more details, and it will be almost completely gone. No creditable sources will have any evidence to say anything other than what we want them to say,” he said, reassuring Brandon. “Besides, you need to teach Sabrina the rules.”
“Rules?” Sabrina questioned.
“The rules for fighting. You know. Things like not stabbing your opponent in the back or killing without authority when your life is not in danger or always giving your opponent the chance to defend themselves in the arena. Anything other than an honorable fight could mean open season on vampires by the remaining celestial beings, and we don’t want that. It would be very bad for everyone involved,” Hadrian said in a very fatherly manner.
He leaned over and kissed Sabrina on the forehead. “Take care,” he whispered and left, snatching his car keys off the counter by the back door as he left.
Something about watching her father leave brought a lump to her throat. She wanted to go running out the door after him, to plead with him to stay, but she knew he never would. No one, not even Sabrina, had that much sway with the former emperor and ruler of the vampire world.
The phone rang seconds later, causing Sabrina to gasp and jump with surprise. She let Brandon pick up the cordless phone from the countertop behind him. Her attention stayed focused on the trail of dust Hadrian kicked up as he drove down the long drive. Brandon’s sharp tone snapped her attention back to the phone.
“When?” Pause. “Are you sure the whole place is gone?” Pause. “What does the fire chief say?” Pause. “We’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything. If it’s the work of something supernatural, the firemen aren’t likely to trigger anything. You might,” he said and slammed the phone down hard enough to break the handset.
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