by Kannan Feng
“Did you see a woman come by here?” Daniel demanded. “Short, with golden hair. She was wearing a cloak and a green dress underneath it.”
“Oh come on, you don’t need her when you have us,” one of the women teased, and Daniel growled at her, ready to go on until the other girl called him back.
“Maybe we did. What’s it worth to you?”
Genevieve watched with dismay as Daniel turned, and she made herself stay silent as he flipped the waiting woman a coin. She was tensed to leap when the woman replied.
“She ran down that way.” The woman pointed. “She ran to the left, and she was saying something about finding an inn.”
Daniel nodded shortly and ran on.
When she could no longer hear his footsteps, Genevieve dropped down to the alley again.
“Thank you,” she whispered, embracing them both, and the taller woman shook her head.
“He looks angry with you,” she observed. “Are you sure you’ll be safe, bella?”
Genevieve grinned, her close miss making her reckless.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
* * * * *
The storm blew in from the ocean, striking the city like a fist. Merchants closed their doors, and the only people in the streets were madmen and foreigners. Business was poor, but still, women stood along the avenues, braving the weather for men who might give them coin.
In her green linen gown, Genevieve hoped she passed for one more of the city’s many whores. She was no prostitute, but the men who sought them had money and dry houses.
A hunted animal needs a place to go to ground, she thought to herself, even as she smiled at the men passing by.
It had also been too long since she had last fed, and she knew that the longer she went without, the slower and the stupider she would grow. It would be too perfect a victory for Daniel to find her racked with hunger and unable to run, and so she scanned the avenues.
The man who approached her was dressed in the flamboyant outfit of a private guard, and the pikestaff that he carried and his glare would keep most people at bay. He spared no glance at the women beside her, and he addressed Genevieve coolly.
“Donna, my mistress has business for you.”
“Mistress?” Genevieve blinked. “And what will she pay for my business then?”
“She is a rich woman, you would be well paid for your time.”
Genevieve bit her lip, but it only reminded her of how hungry she was. A perfumed lady, clad in silk and with skin just as soft…
She nodded her assent and followed the man through the streets. For a moment, she had no thought of Daniel and only of the pleasure of feeding and hot blood in her mouth.
The man led her through the wet streets, and finally they came to an inn set far back from the canals. It was a fine place, or at least, it had once been so, and neither the innkeeper nor the sullen girl wiping the table spared them a second look as the man led her up the stairs.
He rapped on the door once, and nodded that she should enter.
The room was lit with a dozen candles, and the bed that dominated the center of the floor was draped with rich velvet. It was a place where men met their favorite lovers, and the woman who lounged in the center of the bed was as lovely as an angel.
“You honor me,” she began, stepping closer to the figure, and like a snake sensing an earthquake moments before it broke the ground, she knew there was something wrong. The woman, propped up on the pillows, was deep in an unnatural slumber and just as Genevieve turned to escape, iron arms locked around her body, pinning her as neatly as a bird.
“No,” Daniel rumbled in her ear. “You honor me.”
She would have moaned in a panic at her capture but his hard hand drifted up to her jaw, stroking the side of her face and tracing a finger along her full lower lip. Almost involuntarily she licked her lips to taste his skin.
“Sharp,” he muttered, grazing a finger against her sharpened canines. “You’ve gone too long without feeding.”
She wished that she had some witty retort for him, some kind of stinging reply that would have made him throw her on the bed and kiss her until she saw stars, but instead she could only whimper plaintively. He was right, and even now she ached with hunger, for him and for red, living blood.
“Darling Genevieve,” he purred. “You would never want for anything if you stayed at my side.”
He loosened her hair, causing it to fall down in waves around her face, and he wound it twice around his fist. It was better than a leash and he forced her closer to the bed where the woman slept.
When they drew closer, she saw that the woman was raven-haired with an oval face that was unlined and pale. There was an elegance to her beauty, but her plain clothing told Genevieve that this was no lady. Her bodice drew her breasts up taut and they were scattered with freckles, dark and sweet on the woman’s olive skin.
“Oh, beautiful,” she murmured, and at her words, the woman’s eyes drifted open. She was startled but unafraid, and when Daniel reached out with his free hand to stroke her face, Genevieve felt a stab of jealousy. Daniel’s rich, low laugh told her that he knew her thoughts, and he shook his head.
“Sweet Marielle simply wishes to be of service, darling,” he whispered, “and you did look so very cold and hungry standing in that alley…”
Marielle gave a little sigh at Daniel’s words and turned her face away. It was no rejection, for it bared her neck to Genevieve. Genevieve was briefly maddened with hunger, then Daniel was forcing her forward, toward the vein at the base of the girl’s throat.
Genevieve moaned helplessly, then her fangs were buried in Marielle’s flesh, seeking the hot blood that she could smell even before she pierced the skin. The girl wailed, resting her hands on Genevieve’s shoulders, but instead of pushing her away, she drew her closer. Behind her, Daniel’s breath came faster and his cock stiffened against her.
Long before she thought she would be satisfied, Daniel tugged her hair sharply, pulling her away. Genevieve made a sound that was akin to a protest, but then she saw that Daniel was right to do it. Marielle lolled against the pillow, paler but with a sweet, dreamy smile on her face. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a drowsy girl ready for bed. Even the wounds that Genevieve made had closed themselves, leaving only a yellowing bruise behind. More and the girl would sleep for a month, but now she only rested quietly, tired and languorous.
“Marielle,” Daniel said clearly. “There is a room next door. Go there and sleep well. In the morning, you will rise well-rested and go home. Do you understand?”
“Of course, sir,” she said softly.
Daniel’s trick with humans, one that Genevieve had never mastered, was the ability to control people for short times, and Marielle would do precisely what he said in a sweet fog. Later, she would be sure that it was all her own idea, and have only hazy memories of the woman who drank so greedily at her throat.
They both watched as Marielle drifted out of the room like a sleepwalker, and Daniel turned Genevieve’s face to his.
“Greedy darling,” he whispered. “You spilled.”
He flicked out his tongue to catch the drop of blood on her lip. His kiss was like coming home, and Genevieve wondered if she could ever leave him again.
They had known each other for more than two hundred years. In the rhythm of chase and be captured, run and be pursued, nothing had ever broken the deep and fierce love they had for each other, and for a moment, Genevieve was overwhelmed by the fact that she didn’t want to hunt him again after this night was over.
“I want…” Genevieve started, and she yelped when Daniel pushed her to the bed. He loomed over her like a wolf over its prey and she felt a delicious trill of fear run up her spine.
“You’ve kept me waiting too long, love,” he growled. There was a hint of the beast in his voice and he ran a possessive hand down her clothed body. She closed her eyes to savor his touch and she felt his hands at the neck of her low bodice.
<
br /> She started to protest but then he was splitting the garment down the middle, baring the glaring white satin of her corset. He palmed the sharp nip of her waist, feeling the steel bones that shaped her flesh.
“I would tear that as well,” he said, “if I did not like the look of it so much.”
She pulled herself up out of the ruin of her once-fine dress and Daniel ran his hands over her corseted waist, admiring the swell of her hips below and her plump breasts above. He leaned down to run his lips over her breasts and she sighed before a sharp nip made her moan.
It wasn’t hard enough to draw blood, but it was close and he kissed a line over her soft breasts to her throat, where the stolen blood thundered like a river.
“Beautiful,” he groaned, and she could tell that he was as hungry as she had been.
“You’re starving,” she said, and it came out huskier than she intended. It sounded like a taunt, and he frowned at her darkly, giving her another punishing nip with his teeth.
“You should be more afraid of me,” he said, sliding one leg between hers. The legs of her scandalously narrow drawers were connected by nothing more than a cord at the waistband, and her humid flesh pressed against his trousered leg with nothing between them.
She purred but then she looked directly up into his eyes.
“I shall never be afraid of you,” she said tenderly. “In your arms, I am in the safest I ever am in all the world.”
Her sweet confession caught him off guard, and a smile quirked his lips.
“Sweet words and longing looks aren’t going to get you out of this, beloved,” he said, and before she could ask him what he meant, his mouth crashed down on hers, his tongue spearing between her lips.
There was nothing sweet about it, it was only hunger barely restrained. After a moment, she grasped his shoulders and pulled him even closer. Her body craved his and she pushed up against him, nearly moaning in her want.
Yet again, though, he pulled back, and as she watched, he stripped off his belt with an unmistakable air of menace.
“You’ve kept yourself away from me too long,” he repeated. “Don’t think you’ll be getting off so lightly.”
He doubled the belt between his hands and ran it along the line of her jaw.
“Are you going to beat me?” she asked, and there was as much anticipation in her voice as there was fear. The leather looked gorgeous in his hands, its supple length sliding through his lean fingers, and she could imagine the bright slash of pain as it cut into her most tender flesh.
Instead of answering her, he lashed her wrists to the bars of the headboard, pulling the leather tight with a jerk that made her gasp.
She strained against it and thought perhaps she could break free if she wished. Then she looked up at Daniel, who was shucking off his shirt, and wondered why in the world she would ever want to.
“You’ve dreamed of me helpless under your hands,” she whispered, arching her body up so that her breasts rose up out of her corset. It made him pause as he stripped, taking in her creamy flesh and the way that the restraints held her so taut and ready for him.
“Helpless?” he said. “I would never think you such.”
She started to reply, but then he was gloriously, splendidly naked in front of her. Daniel was as perfect as a god risen up out of the dark night to claim her, and when he ran a possessive hand up the curve of her silk-covered calf, she could only hope that he found her acceptable.
“So beautiful,” he mused, quietly looking over her body, “but still far too clothed.”
He rummaged in his discarded clothes for a moment, and there was a beautiful little dagger in his hand, silver and studded with tiny red gems that seemed to wink at Genevieve in the darkness. It was as wickedly sharp as his teeth and Genevieve made a small sound when the tip of it touched her bare ankle
“You’re entirely too dressed, my darling,” he murmured, and there was a new huskiness to his voice when he slid the blade over her tender skin.
She gasped at the freezing cold point of cold moved beneath her drawers, drawing the hem up before slicing through the fabric and baring her even further.
He kissed the curve of her calf before treating her other leg to the same. His kisses raised lines of fire on her skin, something only heightened by the touch of the dagger’s point and its frigid sharpness. She tugged frantically at her bonds, desperate to touch him, and he pulled back slightly, a smile on his face.
“So impatient,” he teased. “Restrain yourself, Genevieve.”
“How could I when you use your mouth on me so?” she demanded.
The words were only half out of her throat, then there was a whistle of air as Daniel cut her drawers from her with sudden, savage speed. He had been a fencer in life and in death he had lost none of his speed or accuracy. If he had been less precise, she would have had cuts down the lengths of her thighs, but instead her drawers lay around her in shreds and her bare legs were as pristine as new-fallen snow. Another few strokes of his flashing blade made short work of the laces of her corset and she was naked before him, bare and vulnerable, her breath catching in her throat at his strength and his speed.
Her heart beat fast in her chest and he bent his head to her thighs, kissing and licking up their length until his mouth was unbearably close to her nest of damp golden curls.
“Bastard,” she moaned when his mouth stopped short of its goal. “Oh bastard!”
He grinned at her fevered words and pulled back again, watching her with avid eyes.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he asked quietly, and she blinked at him.
“What…what could you possibly be thinking of?” she gasped. “You can see me like this, you can smell me, and you are still doubting it?”
He shook his head, and for a brief moment, though she was the one tied down, she thought he looked oddly vulnerable and naked. Instead of lapping at her slit, he worked his way back up her body, nibbling and biting with a tenderness that felt oddly new.
She knew that he had kissed her like this before, softly, listening for her quiet sighs, but there was something strange about it as well. They had been playing the part of hunter and hunted for so long that this was as much new territory as it was a homecoming, and from the slight frown on Daniel’s face, he sensed it too.
“What are you playing at, Daniel?” she asked quietly, and he nuzzled the crook of her neck.
“Sometimes I don’t even know,” he admitted, and he lapped at the soft skin there sweetly enough to make her whimper.
He plucked her nipple between two fingers, drawing it hard and sharp before laying his mouth over the peak. She remembered how sharply she had bitten him in the same place back in Paris, but he seemed uninterested in paying her back. Experimentally, he flickered his tongue at the tip, and when his reward was a thrust of her hips and cooing sound of pleasure, he did it again.
Daniel moved from one nipple to the other, and then Genevieve gasped when his fingers caressed the side of one breast. She was sensitive there, almost ticklish, and she was quite certain that he had never touched her exactly like that before. Even a gentle tickle of his fingernails made her squirm, and when he bent down to lap at the silky skin, Genevieve actually squeaked.
“How have I known you so long and not known this about you?” he mused, and Genevieve only whimpered, needing more.
Genevieve felt some of the urgency drop away from him, and he made an exploration of her body with his hands and his tongue. He dragged his rough palms down her sides and then down her thighs. He fit his hand to the curve of her thighs, and he gently stroked the soles of her feet, making her toes curl with pleasure.
With a fascinated expression his face, Daniel massaged the soles of her feet, digging his thumbs into her hard heels and the tender arch, pulling each toe one by one. This brought groans of pleasure from her, and he chuckled.
“What in the world are you doing, Daniel?” she asked, breathing hard.
“We’ve be
en playing this game for so long,” he said softly. “Sometimes, I think we have forgotten things that we should not have forgotten.”
Daniel crawled on top of her, stretching his length out on top of her body but supporting his weight on his forearms. They were nose to nose, and he leaned down to kiss her.
She lay quiet underneath him for a moment, returning his kiss almost chastely, and then, with a catlike quickness, she bit his lower lip hard enough to make him draw back with a curse.
“Never think that I am harmless,” she said, laughing, and he grinned.
“Vicious little cat!”
He paid her back by knotting his hand in her hair and pulling her head to one side. This time when he brought his mouth to her throat, he did it with a bite, one that stopped just short of breaking skin. She cursed him roundly, but she would have killed him if he had stopped. He did it again, drawing hard on the skin. When he pulled back, it was already purpling, and he smiled savagely.
“You really don’t know when to keep your mouth quiet, do you love?”
She started to reply, and instead, he pressed two fingers into her mouth, watching with fascination as she first bit them gently and then started to suck.
She ran her red tongue over and around his fingers, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Go on, put it in my mouth and see how you like it.”
He raised one dark eyebrow at her taunting words. For her to put her mouth on his cock would have been an act of dominance on her part, to take the most vulnerable part of him with the most dangerous part on her own body. The idea of dominating him thrilled her, and she waited to hear what he would say.
“I would like it all too well, I’m sure,” he said, and pressed his fingers back in as leaned down to bite at her nipple again.
He lay square between her legs now, and she could smell her own arousal. It soaked into their skins, powerful and musky, and against her, his cock throbbed. He wanted her, he craved her, and she did not understand why he was being so slow.