by Dee Carney
His head dropped down next to hers so his breath tickled her skin as he spoke. “In the right circumstances, Lia, your senses are as heightened as my own.”
He knew her kind so well. She could detect the blood pulsing through his neck. Could almost hear it roaring through his veins.
“If I stood here long enough, if you were hungry enough,” he whispered, “this would tempt you to do something impulsive.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed. Since the other night, she fed meagerly. Just enough to get by. Something about knowing what she missed out on prevented her from enjoying vampire blood. His close proximity, the memories from before teased her mercilessly.
“Are you hungry, Lia?” He sniffed the hair tucked behind her ear. Traveled over the crown of her head, exposing his neck even more to her.
She wasn’t just hungry. She was ravenous.
“Jericho,” she said on a breath. He’d proven his point. She pressed her hands against his firm abdomen, ready to push him away.
He turned his head. “Do it,” he teased, his voice husky. “Do it, Lia.”
Her canines throbbed a tortuous beat. She could almost taste him, taste the salty skin that would yield beneath her before a burst of his sweet blood poured into her mouth. Just one taste. One little taste would ease the burning need for him. It didn’t have to happen again after this.
Just this one time…
All thoughts of pushing him away fled and she curled her hands into the waist of his pants. Jericho pulled her into his arms as she sank her teeth into his neck.
Chapter Five
Lia couldn’t tell which intoxicated her more. The rush of blood feeding her aching, hungry desire or the sizzling heat of eroticism flooding her mind.
Her body took over for her, rational thought evaporating like a mist. She pulled from him, the warm flow spreading sensuously over her tongue. The more she drank, the more she yearned for him.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt his arms tighten around her waist. Heard his gasping moan. Pressed against him, she felt the hardening evidence of his own passion against her stomach as she fed.
The longer she stood in his embrace, the more alive her body became. Between her thighs was slick with moisture, as needful and greedy as her bloodlust. A shudder knifed through her because Jericho shifted, the motion brushing him against her clit, already desperate for attention.
In her mind’s eye, his hands explored her body. Touched. Teased. Aroused.
There, he was inside of her, filling her. Completing her.
His scent clung to her skin as she gripped him tighter, pulled him closer. Their mouths caressed, their tongues battling. He drank down her cries, the awakening of raw emotions overwhelming and consuming.
She met him thrust for thrust, the crescendo she sought just outside of her reach. Then she was there. With him, she climbed to the pinnacle of pleasure, to topple over it seconds later.
Lia screamed as an orgasm raced through her veins, immobilizing her in his arms. His hot breath caressed her in short bursts as he came with her. His cock pulsed his seed against her womb, her pussy drinking in each torrent. Jericho trembled beneath her hands, the moisture of his sweat threatening to make her lose her grip. She clung harder, tighter because this was where she wanted to be. Needed to be. In his arms for as long as he would have her there.
“Lia,” he moaned. Although his cheek rested against hers, his voice sounded weak, distant.
Something about the way his heart pounded with an erratic beat next to hers dragged Lia back to the present. She opened her eyes to find they were both kneeling in the grass, the hedge of bushes the only thing holding them upright. Her mouth was still clamped to his neck, his blood still fueling her.
Oh gods.
Frantic, Lia pulled away from him, almost forgetting to lick the wound closed. His face was pale, his body swaying as if he would topple over should she let him go.
“Jericho!”
He seemed as if he didn’t have the strength to even open his eyes. Too much blood. In the midst of a haze, she’d taken way too much from him.
She looked up and down the path, looking for someone to help them. “Guards!” she screamed. “Guards!”
“Sh-shouldn’t have tempted you.” His mumbled words and feeble attempts to push away from her gave Lia a small measure of comfort. He had enough strength to talk and try to stand. With a smattering of the gods’ blessings, by tomorrow he should recover well enough.
“Hold on, Jericho,” she whispered against him.
The sound of feet pounding on the thick cushion of grass drew closer. Lia looked up to find three of her father’s guards running toward them. All three men had their blades in hand, their combined stares fixed on where Lia and Jericho kneeled on the ground.
More noises alerted her to additional guards coming from the opposite direction of the path. Ross, in fact, led this group. The determined look on his face darkened as he approached.
“Prima lux,” he panted, “are you injured?”
She shook her head. “He’s ill.”
Before she recognized what he was doing, Ross gripped her shoulders. He pulled her away from Jericho who managed to stay upright by some small miracle.
“But how are you?”
She shrugged loose from his grip. “I’m fine, Ross. Help him.”
Her eyes narrowed at the older vamp when a low growl sounded in his throat. He didn’t dare disobey her, but he didn’t look pleased by one iota.
Hands on hips, he looked down at Jericho whose ashen face alarmed her. With a bored tone, Ross said, “On your feet, guard.”
Lia could have screamed at him. This was so stinkin’ typical of vampires. She dropped next to Jericho, putting her arm around his waist. He tried to shove away from her as he fumbled in his efforts to stand, but determined, she pressed herself against his side.
She looked up at Ross. “If I have to repeat myself, captain, you will not like it.”
It must have been the light, but she could have sworn the look that crossed his face was venomous. Ross snapped his fingers and jerked his head to Jericho. Wordlessly, two of the men sheathed their weapons. With her assistance, they managed to prop him up, his legs unwilling to hold his weight.
Ross stepped up to Jericho, peering into his face. He sniffed him, his eyebrows knitting. His gaze drifted to Lia. He stared at her, and said, “Take him to his quarters. Whatever illness he has, we do not want it infecting the prima lux.”
The men started away, half-carrying, half-walking the werewolf between them.
She started behind them, but Ross stepped into her path. His voice raised, he said, “I will escort you to your quarters, prima lux.” He spoke softer then, just loud enough for her alone to hear. “You and I should talk.”
The subtle undertone of menace punctuated his statement. It should have been a request for them to talk. Not an order. No matter how long he’d been a part of their family’s protection, she wouldn’t tolerate any form of disrespect from him. Only his seniority saved him from facing her wrath as it rose to the surface.
When the other guards were out of earshot, Lia whirled on him. “How dare you?” she hissed.
Ross studied her face dispassionately. “That werewolf has been bitten recently.”
Blood drained from her face at his words. There was no way he should be able to tell. None. Her mind blanked on how to respond to him.
He stepped forward into her personal space. “I need not remind the prima lux of the consequences of feeding from the tainted.”
No. She knew better than most what would happen if they were found out. “You forget your place, guard. Your words sound almost threatening to my ears.”
He inclined his head, a wicked glint dancing in his eyes. “I did not mean to offend, prima lux.”
Lia gathered the remains of her courage, including every ounce of contempt she could muster. “Then see to it that you don’t!”
Ross half-bowed. He murmured
, “Prima lux.”
She strode away from him, certain tonight would not be the last time she heard of this.
* * * *
“I meant to ask, who’s the stiff standing guard? And what happened to the one I wanted to get stiff?”
Lia chuckled. “Syler, must you always be so exasperating?”
Some of the cherry wine sloshed over the rim of the glass he held as he shrugged in her direction. “What? He’s a hunky piece of meat even if he’s a were.”
Hunky piece of meat, indeed.
When Jericho didn’t wait for her outside of her bedroom this morning, she all but panicked. As casually as her trembling voice would allow, she inquired as to his health from the guard who replaced him. When he told her Jericho would resume his duties later on in the day, Lia could have collapsed with relief.
“He’ll be back on duty by this evening. He took ill last night.”
Syler’s purple painted lips matched the black and purple ensemble he’d fashioned himself in this morning. No matter what she wore, Lia always felt downright plain standing next to him.
He clapped his hands giddily. “So,” he said, cocking an eyebrow, “making any progress in that department?”
“I am not even going to entertain that question, Syler.”
“Then I won’t mention the blush on your face when I mentioned him.”
“I did not blush!”
His smile broadened. “Oh girl, if you weren’t blushing before, you are now.”
She almost pushed away from the table and stood, but what would be the point? He was like a hunter after its prey and would not be deterred. From the day they met, Syler did whatever he wanted, said whatever he pleased. Maybe a slight change in the topic might help.
“Since you’re always in the know, maybe you can answer something for me.”
“Juice? You know I love to dish!” He leaned forward conspiratorially after taking another sip of wine.
“This has to stay between just you and me.”
“You know you didn’t even have to mention that.”
Lia nodded. “I know, but you have to promise me.”
“Pinky swear!”
She took a deep breath. In for a penny. “Tell me. What do you know about the rule behind not feeding from weres?”
For the first time in ten years, Syler appeared at a loss. His mouth dropped open, but no words tumbled out for several minutes. “Well, uh.” He swallowed twice. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me the why.”
In the privacy of her rooms, she felt secure enough to pursue this line of questioning with him. If anyone would know about the forbidden rules of the community, it would be Syler. He single-handedly pushed the boundaries of each and every one of them.
“Lia, this is a dangerous conversation.”
Or maybe not.
Although he’d been in her receiving room more times than she could count, for the first time he looked uneasily at the walls surrounding them.
“You do realize I was just kidding, right? You know the part about getting it on with the were?” The deadpan look she gave him hastened him into speaking again. “Okayyy, it’s your ass. All I know is that it started some war or something way back when.”
“No!”
“Yes!” He slapped the table with his fingertips.
“You have to give me more details than that.”
Syler sank back into his chair. “Sorry. I don’t know more than that. Just tell me you’re not seriously taking what I said about that guard of yours to heart? Like I said, it started a war, as in people killing other people, war.”
“I don’t know if I believe a little romance can truly start a war. That’s the kind of stuff you read about.”
“Believe it or not. It’s what I know.”
Lia must have been lost in her thoughts for a little too long. His voice soft, Syler asked, “Is he worth it?”
Before she could answer, a knock on the door sounded. Lia flashed him a rueful smile. “Come in!” She turned to Syler. “Maybe they’re bringing us some of those little nut things you like so much.”
She heard the door swing open, and reached for her cup to refill it. Her attention shifted to him just long enough to spy Syler’s raised eyebrows when the gentle hush of noise stopped.
“No, I think this is for you,” he said.
After a glance at the person walking through the doorway, she put down the cup, and her breath caught in her chest. The force of her beating heart could probably be heard a dozen communities away. She didn’t know what to say, how to react, but from the moment Jericho walked into the room, she lost focus on everything else but him.
He still was an alarming shade of pale, but the man looked good. Sexy. Almost as if he hadn’t lost his natural color, but was meant to be this glowing shade of alabaster. The dark browns and blacks of his uniform made his skin stand out even more.
Gods. He really looked good.
His gray eyes turned smoky as he stared back at her. Neither exchanged a word. She could see the tension in his stance. The way he stood immobilized, unable to take another step. Lia sat similarly paralyzed in place.
His attention flitted to Syler for the briefest of seconds. Just long enough for a flash of disappointment to cloud his face.
Jericho ambled to her, his stride slow and seductive. It was an invitation or perhaps a plea, a notice to anyone who watched of his longing, his need. When he dropped to a knee before her, his very proximity seemed to steal the air from her lungs. He reached for her hand, raising it to his mouth.
“Prima lux, I am once again at your service,” he murmured. Then he lifted her hand to his lips.
Lia’s mouth went dry as he brushed a kiss across each knuckle of her hand. He hovered over each before the unending torment finally ceased. Her skin came alive beneath his touch, every nerve ending singing in chorus. Rapture, or something damned close to it, sparked alive. If she feared even the tiniest amount of the consequences of almost draining him dry yesterday, it evaporated in an instant.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers before rising to his feet. When he removed his hand, his fingers drifted across her palm in an intimate gesture which spoke of secrets. Desires.
Without saying another word, he turned and left. By the time the door clicked shut, Lia remembered to start breathing again. He’d only been in the room for a matter of seconds, but to her, it lasted an eternity.
She was smitten. No other word could describe it.
“Well, girl,” Syler said after clearing his throat. “If a man looked at me like that man just looked at you, I’d risk a war too.”
Chapter Six
Serve his time, then get out of there. His duty done. Never to haunt him or his family again. After that, he could go home and live out his days on a pension that would keep him just outside of poverty until he died of old age.
Falling hard for the prima lux had never been a part of that plan.
After she’d bitten him, he lay in bed nauseous, his stomach rolling, and all but gasping for air because his body desperately missed the oxygen-rich blood she’d pulled from him. Based on the horrified expression on her face, it was obvious she hadn’t meant to weaken him. The fact she could impressed him. It took a lot to bring werewolves to their knees.
During that moment in the gardens, it only seemed fair that he should send some temptation her way. Having to stay by her side for three-quarters of the day, watching her graceful movements, steadying his breath when she emerged in one of those outfits designed to tease, or sharing intimate yet chaste pastimes together made his pulse race. He could only watch with envy as vampire males approached her or conversed with her without a second thought. They didn’t have to maintain their distance, or bow subserviently or any myriad of actions that demeaned themselves in her eyes on an hourly basis. When she added insult to injury by calling his kind ‘impulsive’, he didn’t think. He just reacted.
So he had what she’d done coming. No denyin
g that. If anything, he owed her an apology. He would also make certain he offered no other temptations. They pushed their luck the first time she bit him. A second time dangled their lives in front of Fate who appeared displeased with them both. A third time and who knew what would happen?
The moment he stepped inside her suite and saw her sitting there, once again, the blood drained from his brain to head south. She had no idea the effect cleavage spilling over her bustier had on him physiologically. Nevermind the fact it made him swear under his breath. The moment she shifted and he saw just a whisper of a hint of her dusky areolae, his heart stopped beating. His mind stopped thinking. And instinct took over.
If her friend hadn’t been in the room, Jericho had the sinking feeling he would have emerged from there a few pints lighter of blood. Not that he would have minded.
Thank the gods she had an escort. Although, even that barely stopped him from showing his heart to her. Once upon a time, he would have considered himself too much of a loner to want to feel the touch of the same woman on a regular basis, but just caressing her hand for those few seconds pleased him to no end.
What was he thinking, really? This could only end badly no matter how they played it. For heaven’s sake, he’d not just fallen for any woman. It had to be a vampire. Destined to be the next Lugh.
Oh yeah. To make certain those two things weren’t obstacle enough, add in the fact she would be getting married in a few days.
Gods.
He stood outside her quarters now, waiting for her to emerge for the evening. Calloused hands scrubbed over his face as he wished for some sort of reprieve. The way things were going, he was going to be nursing a wounded heart for years to come. As long as he had something to do with it, he would make certain she wouldn’t experience that pain. Not because of him.
* * * *
“You’ve been very quiet.”
He glanced down at her. “Just lost in thought, prima lux.”
“Since when do you call—oh, I get it. You’re angry with me.”
Jericho shook his head, unwilling to say more. This was harder than he thought. He wanted to distance himself, wanted to make certain they maintained a professional relationship. Better late than never.