Blood Betrayed

by Gabrielle Bisset

  This made no sense. Why portray him as an oversexed sire when the truth would be as offensive to many of their kind? That he chose to sleep with human women made him a traitor to the vampire race in more radical circles. Why not use what he really was against him? Few others in their world, outside of the Archons, disapproved of a sire's sexual behavior with his or her vampires, and to most, it was a perk earned by a sire for adding to the shrinking ranks.

  Emily continued on with her act and Solenne wrote down every salacious detail, but her mind was focused on how she could get home to talk to Saint and the rest of the Sons. Maybe they'd understand why the Archons had chosen to construct such an elaborate tale with someone she suspected had never even met Saint.

  By the time she'd finished, Saint had been branded a rapist many times over, a vampire who kept a corral of females at his beck and call to service his constant need for sex, and Emily had used half a pack of tissues drying tearless eyes.

  "Is there anything I can do? I feel so terrible you had to endure something like this," Solenne said as she leaned in to hug her.

  "No, but now you know why I want to help the Archons rid our world of such a monster."

  Marc returned just as Solenne broke the embrace and sat down behind his desk. "I hope you were able to take down everything, Lena. It's such a powerful story, isn't it?"

  Unlike earlier, his focus was squarely on her, and the power of his stare unnerved her. "Yes, it is, sir. Appalling is how I'd describe it."

  "Rochelle said you weren't feeling well earlier. If you're still feeling under the weather, just leave your notes with her on your way out and she'll take care of them. You and I will resume our work together the next time you're here."

  Solenne flinched at his reference to the work they would resume next time, but she tried to focus on being able to speak to Saint instead. "Thank you, sir. I do feel quite sick to my stomach."

  Turning to face Emily, she said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Emily. I admire your courage. Will I see you again?"

  "Thank you, Lena. I don't know, but once the world is rid of that monster, I hope Marc will allow me to come back for a visit."

  "I'm sure that would be delightful, wouldn't it, Lena?"

  "Yes, sir."

  The Archon's focus was once again on Emily, and Solenne felt increasingly uncomfortable, as if she were in the middle of the first moments of their foreplay. As she left, she sensed they didn't even notice she was gone.

  Solenne dropped off her notes with Rochelle and watched her pour over them as if they were gospel. Before she was forced to endure any more which might make her truly sick, she begged off and left as quickly as possible.

  Saint stood in the doorway of the sitting room eating a sandwich and watching something about Jack the Ripper on television. Solenne was surprised to see him fully dressed, including a shirt.

  "We need to talk, Saint."

  "Yeah, about before..."

  No, she definitely didn't want to talk about how he'd run from her after tasting her blood. "No, not about before. We need to talk about what's going on with the Archons and you. I'll get Vasilije and the others on the phone so we don't have to do this twice."

  As Solenne walked down the hallway toward her room, Saint yelled, "What's happened now? Change their minds?"

  Not exactly.

  Back in the sitting room, she dialed Vasilije's number. "Think the opposite."

  "They want to make me an Archon? Sorry, but I'm about four hundred vampires past that," Saint said with a chuckle.

  "Stop joking around."

  Vasilije's voice on the other end of the line interrupted their verbal sparring. "Solenne, what news do you have?"

  She looked at Saint's face and smiled. "Do you have any idea why they'd want to make anyone think Saint's a rapist?"

  Saint's eyebrows raised in astonishment. "What? Now I'm a fucking rapist? Who am I raping?"

  Vasilije tried to calm Saint down. "Relax, Saint. Solenne, what are you talking about? Saint's no rapist."

  "I know that, but I just sat through a meeting with the Archon and some woman who claims Saint's her sire and he was nothing short of a sex fiend with his female vampires, even forcing them to have sex against their wishes."

  The line went silent, but in the background Dante could be heard laughing. Finally, Vasilije asked, "Are you sure you're not mistaken, Solenne?"

  Saint's expression showed he was as confused as Vasilije was. "Solenne, who is this vampire of mine?"

  "Does the name Emily in New York City in 1951 ring any bells?"

  Saint shook his head. "No. I've never been to New York."

  "Vasilije, they spent a lot of time making Saint out to be the worst of our kind. Any idea why his preference for humans shouldn't be enough justification for the Archons to get rid of him?"

  "Solenne, I'm worried they know about you. And they know about us."

  Staring at the phone, Solenne was silent, understanding the importance of Vasilije's words. If the Archons knew who the current Sons of Navarus were, then they planned to pick them off one at a time. It wasn't a coincidence that both Vasilije and Saint had been targeted.

  "Are you saying you don't want me to go back to the Archon's?"

  "I can't tell you we don't need you to continue spying on him, Solenne. I just can't say I'm sure you're safe anymore," Vasilije said somberly.

  For all the horrible things she'd endured at the hands of Marc Verrater, she still believed she could be more helpful to the Sons and Saint if she continued spying on him. "I understand, but I can handle myself, Vasilije."

  "Okay, but if you sense you're in danger, you need to get out of there, pet. I don't want to see you get hurt."

  "Vasilije, if they know about us, then none of us are safe. I'm coming back tonight."

  Saint's eagerness to leave after she'd just said she would risk her safety for him and the Sons stabbed at Solenne, but she pushed down the hurt to focus on the problem at hand. "Vasilije, what do you need me to do now? I'm not scheduled to go back to Verrater's until tomorrow night."

  "Keep up what you've been doing and help Saint with his needs there. Saint, we can't risk the Archons finding you along with Ramiel and Thane. Stay where you are, but be careful."

  The scowl on Saint's face said more than any words, and Solenne again cringed at the pain of his unhappiness at being with her there.

  "I'll let you know if we find out anything here, and Solenne, call immediately if there's any news from the Archon. Saint, be safe."

  "Vasilije, wait. Has there been any word...anything from any of my vampires?"

  The line fell silent for a long pause. "None yet, Saint. But they'll come. Give it time."

  Saint hung his head and sighed. "Yeah."

  Solenne sat silently remembering the words she'd said just hours earlier to him as Saint sat down heavily in a chair across from her and hunched over, his head still hung. She shouldn't want to speak the words that would make him feel better, to apologize for saying what she truly believed in her heart was true, but she also knew she'd hurt him. After everything he'd done, she shouldn't care if he were happy or not.

  Watching him there like a man defeated pushed all those thoughts aside, though.

  "Saint, I agree with Vasilije. They'll come around. Your vampires just aren't used to you wanting them around."

  Slowly, he raised his head and she saw his dark eyes clouded with doubt. "Don't."

  He rose from the chair, walked past her, and returned to hand her a piece of paper with an address on it.

  "Her name is Janelle. Tell her Declan needs her. Give me a half hour, and don't hypnotize her."

  Solenne fought back the tears as his words echoed in her ears.

  Declan needs her.

  Chapter Eight

  Saint studied the intricate design on the ceiling above his bed. Someone had taken the time to painstakingly form the plaster into tiny swirls that gradually flowed into larger arcs. The whole effect only made him fee
l worse than before.

  "What a fucking waste of time," he muttered. "As if there was something wrong with plain old white paint."

  The idea that now he had Vasilije and Solenne pitying him made his stomach turn. Like he needed their pity? Even if none of his vampires came to him, he could handle himself against those motherfucking Archons. He didn't need anyone's help. He'd been practically alone for almost a century. This was no different.

  "Declan?"

  In the midst of his misery, he looked over toward the door to see Janelle. Like an angel from a fantasy come to ease his soul, she stood in a long white dress, her blond hair framing her beautiful face, and blue eyes full of concern met his.

  She was exactly what he needed to make him forget the reality of his world.

  He sat up and waved her in to sit next to him. "Come in. I'm glad you came."

  Janelle sat beside him and with a look of worry studied him. "That woman said you needed me. Is everything all right?"

  "Everything's fine. I just wanted to see you again."

  Without a word, she touched his cheek, stroking it tenderly with the pad of her thumb. Her skin was warm against his and each touch made him want more of her.

  "Declan, who's that woman? She's obviously not a sister, but I'm guessing she's like you? A vampire?"

  Closing his eyes, he let himself enjoy the sound of Janelle's soft voice, even if the words she spoke only served to keep his mood foul.

  "That's Solenne. She's a vampire. She was my brother's vampire."

  "What do you mean she was your brother's?" Janelle asked as she let her finger slide down his jaw.

  "My brother was her sire—he made her a vampire."

  Saint opened his eyes. Janelle sat staring at him, looking as if she were trying to understand what he'd said, "So she's sort of like a sister?"

  "Not exactly. At one time she would have been more like a sister-in-law, but now, no."

  "Why did she tell me you needed me?"

  "Because I do."

  Saint pulled her to him and kissed her hard. In some way, he wanted her to feel what was eating him up inside without having to tell her. He didn't want to have to speak the words because to say them would be like torture. Somehow, if she could know without him having to feel that pain, he could feel better.

  Janelle's kiss aroused him just as it had before, and in seconds his cock was rock hard. Her lips were so soft against his, like warm silk, and her tongue playfully sought out his, inching his desire up notch by notch as she sweetly feasted on his mouth.

  Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he leaned back to look at the woman who would once again give him the gift of those few precious seconds of happiness. Maybe she could be more. He enjoyed being near her, and she seemed to feel the same for him. Could she be what every one of his vampires never had been?

  For the first time in years, he believed he could be the kind of sire he never was before.

  Janelle opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Declan? What's wrong?"

  Shaking his head, he smiled and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Nothing's wrong. You make me feel happy."

  Grinning, she slid her hands over his chest and stomach to just above his pants. "Good. Is part of that happiness biting me?"

  "Definitely."

  Janelle began undressing him and roamed her hands over his skin, enflaming every place she touched. As she gazed at his body, she whispered, "I shouldn't be okay with that. I know. But there's something about you that makes me want to do..."

  She broke off her sentence to place a kiss near his collarbone and then looked up at him and whispered next to his skin, "...bad things."

  Her breath was warm and light as it drifted across his chest. With her lips, she delicately teased a trail over his pecs and abdomen, stopping where her hands had earlier. Ever so lightly, she skimmed her fingers under the waist of his pants, grazing the tip of his cock.

  Her touch. Her words. Saint closed his eyes and let the happy feeling wash over him. "Declan, let me make you happy."

  Janelle opened his pants, and Saint let his head loll back when she wrapped her hand around him. God, it felt so good! Slowly, she stroked him, her hand sending waves of pleasure through his cock and balls.

  Just when he was convinced he couldn't feel better, her mouth closed around his cock and her tongue slid over a spot just beneath the head, sending pleasure radiating throughout his body. Looking down, he held his breath at the sight of Janelle's perfect mouth and hand stroking his shaft.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure peering in through the cracked door. For a moment his eyes locked with blue-green eyes and he felt their pull on him. Eyes filled with an all-too-familiar anguish held him hostage, their pain squeezing his heart like a fist jammed in his chest.

  Janelle dragged her nails over the skin of his inner thighs, sending excitement racing to his balls again, and Saint closed his eyes in ecstasy. In the darkness, the woman just outside the door was there, her gaze fixed on him with a woman.

  A human woman.

  Damn her! Why should he care that his time with any woman pained her? What right did any vampire female have to pass judgment on him for anything?

  That he'd let that happen once before in his life was a mistake he swore he'd never make again. Ten years as an outcast, branded a criminal, had made him who he was. Ten years, every day a reminder that he was unwelcome in the world of those he loved. Every day his heart squeezed in a vice of solitude.

  Every day haunted by betrayal.

  Saint opened his eyes and shot his gaze toward the door, but there was no one. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

  He was a fool if he let Solenne's disapproval spoil his chance for happiness.

  "Janelle," he groaned as her mouth inched him closer and closer. "Come to me."

  Pulling her body tightly to his, he slid his hands over her beautiful ass and squeezed. "Give me what I need."

  Standing in front of him, she slowly slid her dress down her body until it pooled at her feet. There, in the moonlight, she looked like a goddess, her blond hair shimmering in the soft light of the evening, her body his to worship.

  Saint's eyes feasted on her beauty as his hands traced the seductive outline of her body. Full breasts, tender and soft to his touch, rose and fell under his attention. A tiny waist flared to a woman's hips. Janelle sighed as he caressed his touch over her soft skin.

  "Declan, take what you need."

  He pulled her onto his lap and felt her slick pussy glide over his cock. Excited, she moaned his name and wrapped her arms around him, clinging to his neck. "I want you inside me."

  Her words enflamed his desire as much as the feel of her body against his, and he rolled her onto her back to take her. God, he wanted this! To be inside her, her body, his body taking and giving until neither knew where one ended and the other began would make everything else disappear, at least for a few moments.

  Hovering over her, he let his gaze travel over her pale skin so similar to one of his kind. Beneath him, she arched her back to touch her body to his. So sweet, so willing.

  The thought of turning her burned in his brain as he slid his cock into her wet channel. Each thrust into her made the idea something he didn't want to dismiss with his usual excuses.

  Perhaps he'd found the woman who could make him forget his past.

  The feel of her hands holding him to her—needing him—filled him with joy. While he could turn her if he chose, a willing partner would mean far more to him.

  "Janelle," he whispered as he stilled inside her. "Stay with me."

  For a second she was silent. Had she understood his meaning?

  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she held him tightly inside her. "Declan, take me. Make me your vampire."

  The thrill of her words shot through his body, and his fangs slammed into his mouth. It had been years since he'd sired a vampire, but instinct surged in his veins, and the need he fought every night took hold of
his very being. Like a creature with a singular purpose, he sunk his teeth into her neck and drew her warm blood into his mouth.

  "Oh, Declan...this feels...don't stop," she whimpered as he took everything she was into himself. "Make me yours for every night."

  Every night. She would be his to take care of every night. He would do it. Finally, after all those years, he could be a proper sire.

  Don't do this, Declan.

  Saint's eyes flew open and with his mouth still on Janelle's neck, he darted his gaze left and right to find the one who'd said those words, but he saw no one.

  Only a minute more and she'd be ready. But the words echoed in his mind. Don't do this, Declan.

  Was he going mad? Had being cooped up in this house finally driven him insane?

  He knew whose voice haunted him. Her next words stopped him dead. You can't be what she needs. She'll grow to hate you like all the others. You know your fate. Accept it.

  Saint sat bolt upright, expecting to see Solenne standing next to his bed, but there was no one. With sadness, he looked down at the nearly-turned Janelle lying silently next to him, her eyes closed. All it would take was a few more tugs on her vein and she'd be one of his vampires. Someone to devote himself to, protect, and care for.

  Someone to end the life he'd led for so long.

  Her blond hair lay spread out behind her head like a halo of an angel. He softly traced her delicate features as he tried to convince himself Solenne's words were lies, but as blood fell from his lips onto Janelle's cheek, marring her beauty, he knew the truth.

  As he wiped the crimson drops from her skin, he knew he couldn't be the sire she needed. Bending down, he placed a small kiss on the lips that had brought him such happiness. "I'm sorry, Janelle."

  For a long time, he lay next to her, listening to the gentle beat of her heart grow stronger as the minutes passed. He'd missed the feel of a woman by his side in bed more than he wanted to admit. Thousands of empty days alone should have rid him of the memory, but they only served to sharpen it and the need for that feeling to return to him once again.