by M. L. Guida
“Do you need to rest?”
He stiffened. His back was killing him, but he’d crawl if he had to. “No. Do you?”
“Maybe for a minute.” Violet put the torch in an empty iron sconce. She leaned against the wall. Closing her eyes, she slid down onto the ground. “I guess I do need to rest.”
Her face was pale, her breath labored. How could he be so selfish? If he hadn’t been so beaten, he’d lift her into his arms.
He sat next to her. Her chest slowly rose. The poor lass. “I told you I was too heavy,” he mumbled under his breath. He fully expected her to argue, but she was quiet. She was asleep.
She slowly fell toward him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and cushioned her against his frame. She fit snuggly next to him. It had been so long since he’d held a woman so close without being pawed. Whores would be all over him, smelling of cheap perfume. He caressed her arm and relaxed. This was comfortable, very comfortable.
The flames flickered and cast shadows on the wall. He couldn’t see what was down the long tunnel. He strained to hear if anyone followed them. But all he could hear was Violet’s slow breathing. He could get used to this.
Violet woke suddenly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doze.”
“You needed to rest.” He smiled. “I’m heavier than you thought.”
“We should get going.”
“So soon? I like dis.”
Her cheeks turned as red as her hair. “Oh.”
Ignoring the agony in his back, he pulled on his strength and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. It slid neatly into his palm.
“Thank you.” She fixed her hair.
“Don’t. I like it dis way.”
“I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re beautiful. Strong.”
His heart thundering faster and faster, he tilted his head to capture her lips. What was he doing? They were from two different worlds, forbidden worlds. He waited for her to pull away in horror.
But she surprised him and parted her lips. He slanted his mouth over hers, more forcefully then he intended. He half expected her to slap him, but she held onto his arms. He ran his tongue across the velvety smoothness. She muffled a soft cry, and he dipped his tongue deeper. He wanted to possess her, to brand her.
This wasn’t the time or place, but he didn’t care. He’d never wanted to kiss a woman like he did Violet. She leaned her body against his. He carefully wrapped his arm around her waist, hoping not to hurt her, letting her know how her touch, the scent of her hair and skin, sent desire pulsing through him.
Yet none of those things drove him to the edge of ravishing her as the honey warmth of her mouth did. He had not anticipated anything half as arousing or seductive as the sound of her tiny, strangled moans, each time he swirled his tongue. He had not expected himself to nearly explode like an inexperience virgin as he kissed her smooth and silky neck. He imagined other more intimate female places, hot and wet, begging to be worshiped. Were her feminine curls as red as her hair?
Saint’s blood, what was wrong with him? His heart beat faster and faster as raw desire ruled him. He’d never been so tempted to break the capt’n’s law and take a woman. But the way Violet returned his kiss and clung to him—would it be against her will?
He moved his hand down her back and held her tight.
She stiffened and arched her back, crying out in pain.
Damn he was a selfish bastard! He immediately released her. “I’m sorry.” He tried to make his hard voice sound normal and hide the passion brewing inside him.
Her face had turned gray. “It will pass.”
He winced at her rumpled hair.
She panted and swayed.
“Come here, tempting flower.” He clasped her hand and pulled her toward him. “Let me help you.”
He took the torch and held Violet close, careful not to give into his lust and hurt her again. Blood pumped through him, desire drumming between his temples. Devil’s blood, this was killing him. They made their way down the long tunnel. The air turned mustier, damper. Were they getting closer to the ocean?
A rat darted out in front of him. He hissed. The torch shook erratically. His heart skipped two beats, and he curled his toes.
Violet looked up, her lips curled into a teasing smile. “Afraid of rats?”
Once when he’d disobeyed Jacques D’Aubigne, the bastard had staked him to the ground and doused him with goat’s blood. Rats had crawled all over him and bit him. He was damn lucky he’d hadn’t caught a disease or lost an eye. “I don’t like rats. Why? You do?”
She rested her head against his chest. “I’d prefer the rats than some of the company I’ve endured while living at the Sorcière de Mer.”
“I bet.” Trying to ignore the weariness beating down him, he asked, “How long have you been here?”
“Two years. Two years too long.” She sighed. “You’re not the only one who has spent time down here.”
Amadi stared down at her head. What had Celeste done to the sweet rose? The horrors in the dungeon had been legendary. “I’m sorry.”
“You keep apologizing.” She stopped. “You don’t look like you’re used to apologizing.”
“No, I am not. Being a slave strips away a man’s dignity.” Anger surged through him. The horrors of men tortured, families torn apart, screams of women and children poured into his mind, images he wanted to bury. Bitterness burned in his heart. “No man deserves to be treated like anything less dan a man.”
Chapter Eight
Amadi held Violet close as they walked down the damp tunnel. His throat was parched, and he licked his lips. Tonight was the full moon and sunset wasn’t far away. Soon, he’d be hungry, hungry for blood. “Are we almost there?”
Violet shook her head. “No. ’Tis another hour.”
Not good. Not good at all. He forced himself to move, but each step was becoming harder and harder. His strength was leaving him—his legs dragged, his arms hung loose, his head drooped—and worse, he could feel the sun setting. Even in the tunnel hidden from the sun, the blood lust consumed him. His incisors lengthened, and the demanding hunger commanded him. Soon, he’d turn into a vampire. “How…much…further?”
“We have at least another two miles to go.” She sighed. “I think we need to move faster. I feel better now.” She stepped away.
Coldness flooded his side where her warm body had nestled close. He wanted to pull her gently back, but he didn’t trust himself.
She clasped his hand and squeezed. “We’re not making very good time. We’ve got to quicken our pace.”
“’Tis sundown,” he whispered. “Violet, you must flee.”
“What? You’re not—” The torch brightened her pale skin, but instead of her teasing smile and bright, brown eyes, a look of horror plastered across her face. “Your eyes—”
Her voice trailed off into a dead whisper. She yanked her hand out of his and put it to her throat.
He didn’t have time to be gentle with her. She was in danger, danger from him. “I’m a vampire.” He said “vampire” too loud and immediately regretted it.
She stepped back and covered her mouth. Her eyes darted back in forth with fright. “Are you going to kill me? Is that why you want me to run?”
He winced. “I’m starving and need blood. But da capt’n taught us how to consume blood without killing our hosts. I don’t kill when I feed.”
’Twas partly true. He hadn’t killed anyone for a long time. But that was because there was usually more than one host to feed on. The capt’n would dock in a heavily populated port since the curse was never satisfied with one feeding. He needed at least three or four hosts to please the hunger. But there was only Violet.
She edged further away, leaving him in the dark. “That’s not true…there are rumors of the Fiery Damsel.”
“They’re fiends. Our sworn enemy. Push away your fear and look at me, Violet. Am I tellin’ da truth?”
She stopped moving and glan
ced over her shoulder as if deciding whether to run down the tunnel and abandon him. He held his breath, waiting to see if she’d run or face her fear. She was a strong woman and had survived on a contemptible plantation. He watched her struggle—brows knotting, eyes intense—trying to control her fear. She squared her shoulders and stared. He broke out in a cold sweat as she studied him, wanting her to look into his soul to know he wasn’t a monster.
Her eyes lost the darting edge, and her lips softened. “You’re not lying. You don’t kill your victims. How can this be?”
“We only change into vampires during the full moon. Capt’n taught us to stop feeding before da host’s heart slows.”
She came into the light. Her color had returned, and her cheeks were rosy. “He’s a vampire, too?” Her voice had lost the fearful edge, but her eyes screamed “liar.”
“Aye, he is.” Amadi met her accusatory stare. “He granted me my freedom and treats me as an equal. Something I will never forget.”
“How do you feel about him?”
“I’d die for him.”
“’Tis not very often I see such loyalty.”
“Do you have family?”
“No, both my parents are dead. I’ve no one.”
Her loneliness tugged at him. “I’m sorry.”
She hugged her body tight. “But the Fiery Damsel—”
“Da capt’n and his crew wanted more power and went back to da demon Zuto’s island to drink from da cursed lake until they no longer had to wait for da full moon to transform.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We came upon an uncharted island. We were dying from thirst, and da tallest man I’d ever seen led us to a crystal lake. Da water was so clear and fresh, sweeter than any water I’d ever had. ’Twas only later we discovered da lake was cursed. ’Twasn’t a man at all.”
“He was a demon? How come you couldn’t tell?” There was something in her voice, something doubtful.
All she needed was to have a white wig and a black robe and she’d make an excellent solicitor, ready to put him in Newgate. “He didn’t have horns, if dat’s what you mean. He told us dat we’d change into vampires durin’ da full moon. If we wanted to break da curse, we had to bring a captain and his daughter to him. Or be cursed forever.”
“Did you?”
“No. Capt’n fell in love with da woman, and we put up with her father. Before he was a pompous ass, but he’s less of a sniveller now.”
“You don’t like him?”
“He left three men infected with smallpox on an uncharted island and nearly wiping out da Native population without da slightest hint of remorse. He did not consider them to be equals and didn’t care if they died.”
“The same way you were treated as a slave.”
He lowered his voice. “And you.”
“True. What happens if you don’t feed?”
He sighed. No use lying. She’d know. “I will not be able to eat or drink until I consume human blood. I’ll become a walkin’ corpse.”
“Without blood, you won’t be able to walk the rest of the way, will you?”
Amadi leaned against the wall. His throat was parched, and he couldn’t swallow. ’Twas like having sand stuffed down his gullet. “No, I won’t. Da hunger is growing stronger, and I’m afraid I’ll be so starved, I’ll be a danger.”
“Despite the capt’n’s teachings?”
“Aye.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“When you bite someone, are they in pain?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Because they will find us both if you can’t walk.”
“Violet—”
“I’m the only one here, and you need blood. I don’t want Celeste to find me. I’ve been waiting for a chance to escape, to find someone strong enough to resist her.”
“Is dat what I am to you? A means to escape?” He couldn’t keep the hurt out of his voice. He was tired. Damn tired. And so damn thirsty. He could smell the blood pumping through her veins—warm, tantalizing—and fought hard to maintain control.
She put her bag down on the floor and stuck the flickering torch into a nearby hook. “You don’t play fair. If I lie, then you’d know.”
“I wouldn’t—”
When she sauntered up to him and put her hands on his chest and leaned her body against him, he stopped mid-sentence. His heart thundered, and he was one step away from satisfying the hunger pulsing through him. And the lust, Lord, the lust was killing him.
“You’re more than an escape, Amadi. Much more.”
Her husky voice melted his hard shell. He was actually trembling. Amadi—the most feared member of the Soaring Phoenix—was intimidated by this slip of a girl. “Violet, I can’t hold on much longer.”
“You promise you won’t hurt me?”
Her trusting voice tore at his honor. “Aye, why would you ask such a thing?”
She flicked hair back, exposing her slender neck. “I want you to feed on me.”
“I can’t.”
She stepped close and put her hands on his bare chest. She flashed him a mischievous smile then kissed and licked his skin.
Her warm tongue sent desire flooding through him. “Why did you do that?” He barely got the words out, he was breathing so hard; his body was painfully thick with need. He couldn’t take his eyes off the blood pumping through her veins.
“Because I wanted to taste a warrior.” She pressed more slow, gentle kisses.
He ran his fingers through her silky hair. “Ah, Violet. You’re temptin’ me.”
“I want to do more than tempt you.” She slightly tilted her head. “Now, become the warrior I know you are. Take what you need.”
He wanted to sink his fangs into her sweet flesh. Would she taste like honey or salt? He hated himself for not being a protector and gave into his desire. “Not like this,” he said. With his resolve failing, he lowered her to the ground. “Are you sure?”
Fear flickered in her face for a minute, but grim determination and what looked like passion flared in her brown eyes. “Yes.” Her voice was low, and he could feel her trembling.
“It will only hurt for a minute,” he said. “I can make you forget.”
“I don’t want to forget.”
Her desire jumbled his insides. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why?”
“Because I want to remember everything about you. If we get separated, these memories will help me survive.”
He tensed, knowing what could happen to his little nurse. “I won’t leave you. I promise you.”
She laced her fingers in his braids. “Kiss me first.”
“With pleasure, my lady.”
Ignoring the hunger crawling up his throat, Amadi lowered his head and slowly captured her mouth. He massaged her breast then squeezed her nipple, eliciting a feminine whimper. When his tongue played with hers, he indulged in her sweet taste of vanilla. ’Twas like eating a fresh-baked scone. She kissed him hard as if she were afraid, this would be their last kiss. He took command and gave her what she wanted. A kiss of a warrior—hard, demanding, devouring.
She ran her fingers gently down his back, sending tremors of passion through him. The curse roared to be satisfied. He left her hungry mouth and flicked his tongue over her neck, lapping up her satin skin. Her blood called to him, but he dominated the hunger with his will, compelling it to wait as he kissed her neck, discovering what brought her the tiniest pleasure. His incisors teased her pulse, scraping back and forth, nibbling, caressing, but then his thirst intensified, and he could no longer deny it.
He pulled away and hesitated in kissing her. Her hair was a tumble of lustrous waves reflecting the torchlight—softer, thicker, more plush than he expected. Her dress pulled tight and her bosoms peaked. If her bodice moved, he swore her budded nipples would escape. He’d never seen a white woman’s naked breast, and he fought the urge to not yank her bodice down to satisfy his lust.
The thought of slipping those proud peaks into his mouth and suckling them until Violet uttered soft whimpers of pleasure brought a flash of sweat across his brow.
“I shouldn’t be doin’ dis. Slaves have been burned alive for ravishin’ white women.”
She pressed herself against him. “You’re not a slave.” She kissed his chest, and she peered up at him. There was a recklessness in her eyes, daring him to sample what she was offering—a softer glint of shyness, of hesitancy, of vulnerability that slowly ripped away his resolve. “You’re a man. And I’m a woman who wants you desperately.”
‘Damn it! We need to stop. ’Tis not right.” His voice shook, but it wasn’t just his voice. His whole body had turned into a quivering codfish. But then so had hers.
“I’m not afraid.”
“Are you sure?” He battled to not indulge, to keep his honor, but each time she moved, his resolve weakened. “You’d best get da hell out of here…and you don’t have much time. Da blood lust is getting stronger.”
***
Violet held onto Amadi’s thick shoulders. He kissed her; his tongue was hot velvet. When she rolled her tongue, she glided over his sharp incisors and tensed.
“I promise not to hurt you,” he said. He stared down at her with half-hooded eyes that were filled with hunger. She wasn’t sure the hunger lusted for blood or for something else.
Strength blanketed her, and in his arms, her fear and loneliness disappeared. “’Tis been so long since I’ve felt protected.”
“Never doubt I will keep you safe.”
She smiled. “No one has ever wanted to keep me safe. Until now.”
He caressed her cheek before he kissed her again. “Trust-me” flickered in his eyes. Even if ’twas an illusion. He was a warrior, and he wanted freedom, but that didn’t mean it included her.
But for now, he was real, and his masculine scent of the salty sea clung to her. ’Twas as if he was kissing her on the Soaring Phoenix. A seduction, an intimacy she’d craved since she’d been trapped in this miserable place. In her entire life, she’d never responded so sexually to a man.