by Tina Donahue
She shrugged off his contact and staggered away.
He followed. “How bad is your craving for blood? Is your stomach cramping?”
“No.”
“Please don’t lie.” He turned her around and gathered her close. “Your pain is mine. I want to help.”
A deep, anguished sob tore from her.
Shit. He feared her smaller size had made blood craving worse for her than he’d ever experienced. Similar to alcohol affecting a woman more than it did a man. The whiskey he’d drunk earlier had finally hit, giving him a killer headache. Not that his pain mattered. Nothing was more important than her. “It’s okay. I’ll make everything right, I swear. Here.” He eased back and shoved his inner wrist near her mouth. “Drink as much as you want. Drain me dry. I don’t mind.”
She lifted her face. Tears spilled from her eyes, making her irises even greener. So gorgeous they were unearthly. Her mouth trembled. “You’d do that for me?”
Her surprise stunned him and hurt deep. “Did you think I’d take off and leave you here to suffer?” He made a face. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.”
“I want to.” She threw her arms around him. “Thanks for offering to let me turn you.”
“No biggie.” He stroked her back. “It’s only blood.”
She snuggled closer. “That you don’t have.”
Right. He’d forgotten Dimitri’s warning about their talents having shifted while their inherent DNA, or whatever it was for paras, remained the same. Bastard. Roman caressed her. “How bad is your craving?”
“I can manage.”
Her voice shook. Another shiver tore through her. She was hurting bad. Desperate to help, he lifted his face and shouted, “We need blood. Now. Give up yours and I’ll pay you two hundred grand.” His entire stash, which he could always win back at the tables. Even if he couldn’t, it didn’t matter. It was only money, not her.
No one budged except for the stripper on stage who spun on the pole.
Cowards. Roman fumed. Deep down, he hadn’t tried this ploy for himself earlier, first because he hadn’t wanted to cave and drink anyone’s blood, and next, because he’d suspected his proposition would fail. Though not tonight, not for Wren. “Hey, I’m talking here! We don’t want every fucking drop. Just a couple mouthfuls.” Enough to tide her over until he could think of something else. “For the first two volunteers, I’ll throw in an extra fifty grand.” He could win as much and more in one night if he split his time between several casinos to avoid getting caught. “Seventy-five if you answer within the next second.”
Those patrons who had been looking at him turned away.
Wren dug her nails into his arm.
“Easy.” He smoothed her hair. “I’ll fix this. Give me a sec to wrestle a shifter to the floor. While I hold him down you can feed.”
“No.” She pressed her face to his shoulder, her lips on his skin. “I won’t let you harm anyone. I won’t do so either.”
“Babe, we gotta get something to fill you up before you hurt too bad.”
“Not that. We have to find a way to switch back to the way we were…if you don’t mind.”
Again, she surprised him. He gripped her arms and eased her away to see her face. “Admittedly, I wasn’t the best man or a saint when I was human, but I’m not a dog, okay? If anyone has to suffer here, I should. I dragged you into this mess. I didn’t listen when you told me not to fool with Dimitri.”
“You were so hot.” Tears wiggled down her cheeks and fell off her chin. “My hero.” She giggled hysterically.
“Try to relax, okay?” He pulled her back into him and patted her head. “I’ll fix this. Or maybe you can. There has to be another witch you can contact for a spell or potion to undo things. How about your mom or a relative?”
She slipped her arms around him. “Do your parents know you count cards?”
“What? No. They think I’m working on a secret government project. Very hush-hush. Trust me. They wouldn’t understand me gambling for a living.”
“Then they also don’t know about you being turned, huh?”
He’d be crazy to have told them. His mom’s heart would break. His dad would surely have a stroke given his already high blood pressure. Despite how clueless Roman had been in following her previous conversations, he caught the drift on this one. “You don’t want your mom to know what Dimitri did to you.”
“My aunts either. Or my cousins for that matter.” She rubbed her nose against his neck. “We’ve never been on the best terms. I haven’t wanted to be a witch for a long time and let them know every chance I got. I kept bitching at them for indulging in whatever they wanted while the world burned around them. I mean, a little charitable help on their part for those less fortunate wouldn’t have killed them, right? Once they stopped laughing at my outrageous suggestion, they told me to get lost and stay away. They’ve never gotten me, and I sure as hell don’t get them. I can’t contact them about this. Even if they could help, they wouldn’t, and they’d never let me forget what I’d gotten myself into.”
“It was my fault, not yours.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
There had to be some way to fix this. “What about the witch friends you mentioned? Surely they’d help.”
“They’re the same as me, not powerful enough to counteract Dimitri’s dark magic. However, there is someone who might be.”
“Great, call her.”
Wren eased back and gestured to her chains. “No phone. Do you have one?”
“Not on me. The only thing I’ve wanted to call are blood banks to check their hours if I got beyond desperate. I chose to avoid the urge by leaving my phone at home. Let’s go to your place. Soon as you get dressed.”
“I didn’t bring any clothes here.”
There was a surprise. “You wore your gold thingy, the fabric or whatever it’s called, on the street, in public?”
“No. I used magic to transport from my house to the club.”
Made sense.
She slumped. “I can’t do sorcery now.”
“Right. Maybe I can.”
“No.” She gripped his throat. “Don’t even think about it. There’s no telling what magic in your hands will result in.”
She’d dug her thumbnail into his jugular. If he’d still had blood, he would have sprouted a leak. “I can take baby steps, all right? Maybe conjure up something for you to wear so we can take my cycle.”
Before she could freak and stop him, he pictured women’s clothing, hoping visualization would bring the garments into existence.
The tees on a nearby owl shifter and demon vanished. They glanced down then glared at him.
He pressed his lips to Wren’s ear. “How do I make their stuff come back?”
“I don’t know. I can’t recall. We’ll have to leave with me like this.”
“Or not. Give me a sec.” He dug his remaining cash for tonight from his pocket and waved the wad above his head. “Whoever sells me his T-shirt gets two thousand bucks. No questions asked.”
Several tops flew toward him. He picked up the red one since it looked the girliest. “Who does this belong to?”
A demon stood. “You, as soon as I get my cash. Stiff me and you’ll regret it.”
Roman had no doubt. Dimitri had put the fear of paras into him. He delivered his funds to the demon and gave Wren the tee. “Let’s go.”
On the ride to her place, she clung to him, her fingers dug into his belly, squeezing him enough to hurt.
Strangely, the discomfort eased the pain in his head.
She gripped tighter. “Don’t drive so fast.”
He was barely hitting fifteen miles an hour due to her endless bitching for him to slow down. Sweat coated his face from the oppressive heat. “I won’t wipe out, I swear. Those days are over.”
“Thank God, but I don’t want a cop stopping us for any reason. I can’t use magic to make one go away, and you shouldn’t even consider it.”
“I’ll be good. But I do need to go faster so law enforcement doesn’t wonder why we’re crawling along in a forty mile an hour zone. Like we’re staking out places to rob.”
“Fine, but not one mile over. Three streets down, take a right. I’m the second house on the left.”
Once there, he stopped her before she opened the front door. “Let me.”
Her eyes twinkled in the faint light, from pleasure not tears. “Aren’t you gallant?”
“Sensible. Your strength has probably increased as mine had.” He told her what he’d done to his front door.
She stepped back and let him do the honors.
The same cinnamon-and-sugar fragrance on her sweet breath scented the house. He found and flipped the light switch. Colorful beads, funky lampshades boasting purple feathers, and a zebra-striped sofa decorated the cozy space. The items as unique as she was.
She tossed her heels then the red tee across the room and padded to the smartphone on the counter separating the living room from the kitchen. Numerous potted and hanging plants dressed up the space. Many resembled weed. Maybe several tokes would ease her craving better than booze had done for him.
“There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.” She gestured to the appliance. “Take what’s there. I’m not hungry.”
For food. She required blood.
Her hands trembled so much she could barely grip the phone. She kept sighing and shivering.
If Dimitri had been here, Roman would have torn him apart with his bare hands, no matter his current measly strength or the consequences. Seeing her suffer hit him deep. He cradled her to him, her plush ass caressing his stiffened rod. Around her, he couldn’t help being hard and ready for action. “We’ll make this better, you’ll see.”
She released her weight into him. “Then things will be worse for you.”
“I don’t mind. Make your call. But put it on speaker so I can hear, too, okay?”
“Of course.” She pulled up her address book and tapped a number.
“Is that the powerful witch you mentioned?”
“Yeah, Lael. I met her when I was in Blue Creek. She’s the best. If she can help us, she will.”
He didn’t like how Wren had qualified her statement with an “if.”
Ringing mingled with her heightened breathing, the sound repeating over and over.
On the tenth go around, Lael finally answered. “Wren?”
“Yeah. Hey. Sorry for calling this late.”
“What’s wrong? You sound awful.”
Wren sobbed.
He caressed her. “Hi, Lael. I’m Roman Young. I’m with Wren. I’m a vamp, and she—”
“Don’t you dare hurt her.”
“I’m not! I couldn’t even if I wanted to, which I don’t. She has my powers, and I have hers. We need your help. You can undo this, right?”
“Put Wren on. Wren, are you okay?”
She sniffed and wiped her nose then told Lael what had happened. “Please, you have to help us. I can’t even recall where I put my volumes on magic. Dimitri stole everything from me concerning my powers.”
“Did he give the info to Roman?”
For the first time since their switch, he felt ill. “No. I haven’t a clue where Wren’s stuff might be. As far as me conjuring and having the spell come out right, it’s not looking good. Why are you asking? Does this mean you can’t undo this?”
Lael breathed hard on the other end. “Dimitri’s a warlock. I’m powerful, but he has darkness on his side.”
Roman didn’t need defeatist talk. “Can’t you pool your power with other Blue Creek witches, like those young babes did on that old TV show? They were always gathering in front of their magic book and chanting the power of three. It worked for them. The same combined force from you and your friends might be enough to make things right for Wren and me.”
“You’re talking about a television series, not real life. I can’t promise anything. I’ll have to research this to see if what you want is possible.”
Wren pulled away from him and drooped against the counter.
He hated asking but had to know the truth. “How long will your research take?”
“I can’t say. Nothing like this has ever happened before as far as I know. If there isn’t a spell or potion for it, I’d have to come up with something entirely new and test it on you and Wren.”
“What about you and the other witches ganging up on Dimitri and forcing him to remove what he did to us?”
“We’d have to find him first then ambush him. Do you have any idea how hard that is to do with a warlock in his league?”
He was finding out. “Please hurry. Wren’s hurting.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay. Lael, don’t hang up. I need to speak to you.” She looked at Roman. “Alone.”
That didn’t sound good. “Why?”
“It’s personal.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.” He rubbed her arms. “You’re not thinking of doing anything to hurt yourself, are you? Let me find Dimitri. If I have to go to Hell to locate him, I swear I will.”
“Hush.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I don’t want you putting yourself at risk, and I’m not going to harm myself. I simply need to ask Lael something and don’t want you listening in. Please don’t.”
Reluctantly, he backed into the kitchen toward the fridge. “I’ll be in here. I won’t budge, I swear.”
“Thanks.” She snatched the phone and raced to the front door, as far away as she could get.
*****
In addition to being a crackerjack witch, Lael had another talent Wren needed—foresight. She saw into the future, particularly bad crap coming down. Her prophecies protected the Blue Creek pack.
Lael made a worried noise. “Are you still there, Wren?”
“Yeah.” She kept her voice low, her back turned to Roman. “The stuff you do to protect the pack, can you do the same for us?”
“Do you really want that?”
“You mean, knowing the future and whether it will ever be normal, as much as can be expected?” She slumped against the door. “Yeah.”
“Knowing could make things worse.”
“How?”
“You might give up and cave to Dimitri. Did he offer to become your blood slave?”
She grimaced. “I’d suck my own plasma first. If Rocco were alive, I’d take his no matter how vile it turned out to be.”
“Uh-huh. And what will you do if I tell you the truth about what’s coming?”
Words failed her. Lael’s question alone told Wren her and Roman’s futures weren’t looking good. “Let’s drop that request for now. Can you think of any way for us to beat this?”
“If I were you, I’d stick with him, first and foremost. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He is.” Wren grinned harder than a lovesick teen as she told Lael about the money he’d offered tonight’s crowd so they’d offer to help her. “He’s a real sweetie. I shouldn’t have bitched at him when he asked me to be his blood slave.”
“You had a right.”
“No, I didn’t.” She cupped her mouth to muffle her voice even more. “I thought he’d only been nice initially because he wanted to use me. He wasn’t. The second Dimitri split, Roman could have taken off and left me to suffer alone. He refused.”
“Hang on to him then.”
“I—” Tickling on her ass made her stop. She glanced behind herself. Her chains were suspended in air.
Roman wiggled his finger, using his newfound magic skills to lift more chains to expose her butt.
She gave him a look.
Busted, he lowered his hand. The chains dropped.
Lael spoke. “You what?”
“I intend to do as you just advised.”
“Good. I’ll work on a solution for you guys as quickly as I can.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.” She killed the call, tossed the phone on her velvet chair, and faced him.
He gestured in surr
ender. “I shouldn’t have done that. I could have practiced your magic on the feathers in here or the beads. Sadly, I didn’t think about them until—”
“On the sofa. Now.” She swung her arm to it.
He dropped onto the middle cushion. “I promise to stay here until you say otherwise.”
“Aren’t you a good boy?” She padded to his side and straddled him, her pussy against the bulge between his legs.
Lust darkened his eyes. “I’m not that good.”
They practically devoured each other, their kiss ruthless, deep, and prolonged.
He gripped her chains and tugged, breaking them to bare her fully.
She yanked on his fly. The fucker didn’t want to budge.
With her hair gripped in one hand, he pulled her head back and suckled her throat, making her toes curl and her insides quiver.
Sweet. But not enough. She demanded everything he had to give and unbuttoned his jeans.
He drew her nipple into his heated mouth, his vampire state not reducing his internal temperature in the least. Maybe her magic had also warmed him. If it had, she’d never insult her heritage again. Too many precious feelings raced through her, turning her brain to mush and dampening her pussy.
She struggled with his fly. It wouldn’t cooperate. She cursed the dumb thing.
Roman hauled her close and pushed off the sofa, easily lifting her. He reclaimed her mouth, kissed her fiercely, and clumped down the hall.
They’d reached her bathroom.
He turned on the light with his elbow, retreated, and advanced to the next open door.
She sucked his tongue deeper and ground her pussy against his groin. This time, she flicked on the light.
Once at the bed, he listed to the right, and they tumbled to the mattress. The frame groaned.
Grunting and growling, he pulled at her remaining chains while she conquered his fly then yanked his jeans and stretchy boxers past his hips.
His stiffened cock sprang out and brushed her thigh, the silky head leaving a pre-cum trail.
She tore her mouth free.
His shaft was legendary. By her guestimate, ten inches, thick and ruddy, prominent veins dashing down its impressive length. She had to taste his rod and balls. At this point, even blood wouldn’t have satisfied her more.