Bite

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  "Oh, I haven't even gotten started." Galahad's tongue stroked boldly between her lips. He tasted of enchanted smoke and whiskey, a thoroughly masculine combination that tempted her into deepening the kiss. Instead, he drew back to lick and nip at her mouth.

  She leaned into him blindly, craving the contact of his body, but all her hands touched was the cool, etched steel of his armor. Caroline moaned in disappointment and seriously considered zapping him naked just so she could rub up against him.

  It had taken Dominic an hour of serious foreplay to make her burn like this.

  Galahad tore his mouth free of hers and lifted his head, his blue eyes feral. "You sure we don't have time for more?"

  Caroline stared blindly up at his extravagantly handsome face as she clung to his breastplate. "Oh, we've got plenty of time."

  Fangs flashed in his smile. "Yeah?"

  "What, you expect me to say I'd rather go fight vampires than have jungle sex with you? What are you, nuts?"

  "Guess that answers that question." He stepped back and took her shoulders in his hands. Spinning her around, he pulled her back against his tall, armored body.

  She stiffened. "What...?"

  "I'm losing it." Galahad's breath puffed warm against her ear. "If we stay face-to-face, I'm not sure I can resist the temptation." He pressed a burning, open-mouthed kiss to the leaping pulse in her throat.

  Caroline caught her breath. "Is this going to hurt?"

  He licked the straining cord in the side of her neck. "Did it hurt the last time?"

  Nerves made her joke. "I'm not sure. About the time he bit me, I got lit up like a mosquito in a bug zapper by Merlin's Ugly Practical Joke."

  Galahad chuckled, the sound wickedly suggestive. "Ah--a virgin." Tauntingly, he raked the very tips of his fangs over her pulse.

  She shivered in an erotic blend of arousal and fear. "Galahad..."

  "It won't hurt," he interrupted, his hands suddenly sliding up under her T-shirt to claim her breasts. "Well...maybe it will, but you'll be too hot to care."

  His hands felt very warm as they squeezed her through the thin lace cups of her bra. Skillfully, he hooked his index fingers into the fabric and tugged just enough to pop her nipples free.

  Caroline looked down to watch as Galahad's clever hands found the tight little peaks. Plucked, rolled, stroked. She squirmed, unconsciously rubbing her backside over his armored groin. The steel codpiece jutted against her ass, taunting her with the question of what his cock looked like.

  "Sensitive little nipples you've got there," Galahad whispered in her ear. "Bet they'd be fun to suck." He rolled the hard nubs. "Mmm. Are they, Caroline?"

  "You're asking me?" Panting, she threw back her head and let it rest on his hard, armored shoulder. She was starkly aware of his height. You'd think he'd be short, given the times he'd come from, but he was a full head taller than she was. An image flashed through her mind--Galahad naked, all sculpted swordsman brawn. "Oh, God!"

  He inhaled sharply. "Ahhhh. Getting nicely wet now. I can smell it." Releasing one of her breasts, he reached down her torso, found the button of her shorts. Flicked it open. The zipper hissed.

  She tensed at the erotic anticipation curling through her in shivering waves.

  Galahad worked a hand down into her open fly and slipped into her delicate silk panties. As he found her sex, Caroline groaned helplessly. Two long fingers pumped their way between her tight folds, eased by the thick cream of her desire.

  "Oh, yeah. You're wet." He scissored her clit between two fingers, and she arched her back, gasping.

  "A little." Actually, a lot. She set her feet farther apart, knowing if he decided to push her down and take her, she'd welcome him. She was one deep breath from begging as it was.

  "Mmmmmm. This is the good part." Galahad paused to trace his tongue over one of the whorls of her ear. "The anticipation. I'm going to take you right to the edge. And then..." He lowered his head to lick her pulse. "...I'm going to bite." Strong fingers stroked right up into her core as his thumb strummed her clit.

  Caroline groaned. He'd discovered a delicate little bundle of nerves right over her pulse. He raked his fang tips across it as he played with her. She felt the orgasm building, teased to unbearable heights by those clever fingers. She arched against him as he pumped both fingers into her depths, squeezed her nipple with tender brutality.

  And bit into her straining throat as he flicked a skillful thumb over her clit.

  Her strangled gasp of pain spiraled into a cry of pleasure as her orgasm burst free. That first sweet wave was followed by a second, and then a third. Writhing mindlessly in Galahad's arms, she came in long dizzy pulses as he drank.

  HER blood burned hotter than the whiskey had, flooding his mouth with its raw, intoxicating taste. Galahad tightened his grip in instinctive greed, wishing he were naked so he could feel every silken inch of her long, supple body.

  He drank hungrily, drank until it should be time to start tapering off, drank until his cock ached. Caroline went right on pumping hard. It really had been way too long for her. She needed more drawn off, and he was delighted to comply.

  Almost as delighted as he would have been to thrust into the tight, creamy flesh he could feel gripping his fingers. He was hard as a pole arm behind his armor.

  But now was not the time, so all Galahad could do was work her with his fingers and drive her to another convulsing orgasm while he drank. Her nails raked the engraved steel of his armor as he fed.

  Finally, after long, delicious moments, the pressure eased off. Galahad lifted his head, cradling her, knowing she'd feel dizzy from the sudden decrease in that murderous blood pressure.

  "Thank you," he said in her ear. His voice sounded hoarse, and he cleared his throat.

  "Oohhhh." She hung in his arms, panting. "That was...incredible."

  Galahad grinned over her head. "My pleasure."

  "I..." She stopped to swallow. "I've never come like that just from being..."

  "Bitten?"

  "That, too." She straightened in his arms as if making a deliberate effort to pull herself together. "Is it always like that?"

  It had been pretty damn intense. More so than the last time he'd...Well, actually he couldn't remember the last time it had been that hot. "You needed it more than most." Yeah, that sounded good. He turned her carefully in his arms, made her meet his gaze. "How are you feeling now?"

  She blinked, her cheeks a little flushed, her eyes glazed. "Good, actually. Better. Which is funny, because I'd expected to feel weak after losing that much blood."

  "That's because you damn near waited too long. If you'd gone one more day without being milked, you'd have popped something that would have killed you." He laid a hand alongside her face to gather her floating attention. "Never do that again, Caroline. It's not something to fool around with. When you feel pain or weakness, don't just magic it away. Tell someone."

  "Yeah, sure." She swayed against him. "Ummm. A chair would be good."

  Galahad guided her over to one and tried to ignore the thoughts those long, bare legs inspired as she sat down. They had other fish to fry.

  Bloodsucking vampire shark, in fact.

  4

  GALAHAD spent the next half hour grilling her about the vision.

  So much for lazing in the afterglow.

  Not that she could blame him. They had a nest of vampires to kill. Focus, Caroline.

  But it was tough, and not just because the amazingly gorgeous man questioning her had just drunk her blood. She knew she must have climaxed harder at some point in her twenty-eight years, but damned if she could remember it.

  And that was aside from the fact he was sixteen hundred years old and a knight of the Round Table.

  What the hell was happening to her? This time last year she'd been trying to teach sentence construction to a bunch of bored high school juniors. Now she was supposed to help Sir Galahad clean out a nest of evil vampires and recover the Unholy Grail. What did she look li
ke, Sarah Michelle Gellar?

  Though she'd stack her eye candy against Buffy's any day.

  Apparently satisfied he had as much of the story as he was getting, Galahad leaned against the bar and started scribbling on a notepad she'd conjured for him. His handsome face drew into a scowl of concentration as he wrote in long, slashing strokes.

  He'd drank her blood. And she'd liked it.

  Caroline was still mentally reeling from that when he finally lifted his head, running a harried hand through that silken hair of his. "Obviously, we need to clean out that nest you saw. The thing is, I don't particularly like going into combat based on intelligence from a vision."

  "Yeah, I could see how that would be less than ideal." He looked all sexy and grim and determined. She, on the other hand, felt like a giant rag doll with all the stuffing sucked out. Focus, Caroline.

  "That's putting it mildly," he said, turning to pace, apparently unaware of her dazzled gaze. "Visions only reveal the big picture, and in combat, it's the details that bite you on the ass. I'm damned if I'm going to just gate into some magical underground installation without knowing how many bad guys are going to object."

  That particular mental image was enough to kill the last of her afterglow and start her stomach crocheting itself into sick knots. She rubbed it absently. "So how do you suggest we find out?"

  "For one thing, we don't do this in one big go. It's going to take a series of strikes, just in and out. Fast."

  Caroline nodded. It made sense. Not enough to keep her from wanting to throw up, but still.

  "First order of business is to find that Grail you saw and secure it for Morgana to study," he continued. "Then we gate home to plan our next move. In the meantime, I want you to try to do a magical scan and get me a bad-guy head count. Find out where they are and what they're doing. Think you can do that?"

  "I'll give it my best shot." Her palms were going damp. "Then what?"

  "Based on that intelligence, we'll make a series of strikes to whittle down their forces."

  Which was military speak for killing people. Oh, God. "Sounds good." An outright lie if ever she'd told one.

  In her entire life, Caroline had been in exactly two fights. The first has been when she was ten and Jenny Peterson said she was a stupid head. She didn't remember much about the resulting catfight beyond hair pulling and being told she hit like a girl. Originality had never been Jenny's strong suit.

  She'd gotten into the second one just a couple of years ago, when she'd tried to break up a pair of brawling seniors. Somebody shot an elbow into her face and she spent the next two weeks looking like Sylvester Stallone at the end of Rocky.

  Now she was supposed to battle killer magic-users who sacrificed people and drank blood from cups. This was beginning to feel like a bad reality show. Survivor: Vampire Vacation. Somebody vote her off the island. Please.

  But if they didn't do this, people were going to die.

  "Your eyes are the size of bread plates." Galahad put a hand on her shoulder that was almost fatherly. "Look, this first time out, I'll do the heavy lifting. I don't expect you to do much real fighting; you haven't had the training."

  Caroline licked her dry lips. "What if we're really outnumbered?"

  He shrugged. "Toss a couple of fireballs and try not to hit me. Then gate us out of there." Apparently reading her sick anxiety, he gave her a reassuring smile. "I've been at this since Rome fell, Caroline. I know what I'm doing. Now, armor up and let's go."

  "Armor. Okay." Tentatively, Caroline laid a hand on his breastplate, closed her eyes, and reached for the magic. It leaped for her as it always did, almost joyously, surging across her body in a tingling, foaming wave. She envisioned what she wanted, and the energy settled against her skin, grew solid and cool. When she opened her eyes again, she was wearing a gleaming suit of magical plate that was an exact duplicate of his.

  God, magic was fun. The rest of this sucked, but she did like conjuring.

  Galahad looked down at her chest and grinned. "You do realize those runes spell my name, right?"

  Feeling a flush spread across her cheekbones, Caroline looked down at the indecipherable designs scrawled across her breasts. She couldn't even read the symbols, much less write her own name in them. "Oh. Um..."

  He laughed as he moved to put on his helm and gauntlets. "Don't worry about it, Caroline. Just create a gate to the cup."

  GALAHAD watched Caroline square her shoulders. She'd gone pale as a ghost, yet she still seemed grimly determined to take out the nest. He had to admire that.

  Besides, she looked really cute wearing that scaled-down version of his armor, name and all.

  Gesturing, she drew the gate out of the air. It spiraled outward from a pinpoint spark to a glowing, man-shaped opening in the course of a blink. Not bad. The kid was green, but she had muscle.

  Galahad stepped closer to see what was on the other side. The view showed a fountain cut from rough, red stone sitting in the center of a round room built of the same crimson rock. A clawed hand thrust from the center of the fountain bowl, holding something gold.

  A cup.

  And from it spilled...

  "Is that blood?" Caroline demanded.

  "Probably just looks like it. Geirolf's lot would never let that much go to waste. You sense anybody there?"

  "Not right now. Which doesn't mean they won't gate in behind us."

  "We'll have to risk it." Having dealt with more than enough raw recruits, he decided to remind her of the plan. "So we'll make it quick. I'll snatch Geirolf's Grail while you get me a bad-guy head count. Then we duck back through the gate again and decide how to clean house."

  "Okay." Caroline's voice shook.

  He threw her a smile as he lowered his visor. "You're doing good, kid. You'll be fine."

  As he reached over to flip hers down, too, she gave him a sick smile. "Wonder if Custer said that before the Little Big Horn?"

  "No, actually, he said, 'Indians? What Indians?'"

  She snickered as the visor clicked down.

  Satisfied, Galahad drew his sword and stepped into the gate. Magic rippled over his skin in a hot, tingling wave as it transported him across the dimensions to Realspace Earth. In a blink he was through, stepping out onto the smooth stone floor.

  He moved aside to let Caroline through as he aimed a quick look around them, all his senses open. He didn't smell anything but damp stone and water. The room was silent except for the sullen patter of that disgusting fountain. "You feel anything?"

  Caroline's helmeted head tilted as she went still. He could feel the magic rise around her. "We're underground," she said. "Somewhere in...Virginia? Out in the sticks..." She stiffened, her voice rising in horror. "Oh, God! They killed four people to work the spell! They sacrificed them right over our heads. I can feel them."

  "It's okay, you're all right." Galahad touched her shoulder to bring her out of it. When her eyes met his through the slits in her visor, he told her, "These bastards can't draw on the energies of the Mageverse the way Majae can. They have to use death energy to work their spells."

  "And what a fine source of power you're going to be," a strange voice said. Galahad whirled an instant too late.

  BOOOOM!

  The blast of magic took him full in the chest, knocking him across the room to slam hard into a stone wall. If he hadn't been wearing enchanted armor, it would have flash-fried him. Caroline screamed his name.

  He hit the ground rolling and scrambled for the sword he'd dropped when the blast hit. The hiss and crackle of magic filled the air, shots volleying back and forth over his head. He grabbed his weapon and looked up to see Caroline exchanging fireballs with a tall, graying man in gaudy pseudo-priestly robes.

  "You back-shooting son of a bitch!" she snarled, summoning another shimmering ball of energy. Judging from the glow, it had enough kick to melt a hole in a tank. She lobbed it at him, but the priest blocked it with a shield spell. His return blast splashed off her armor in licking ton
gues of flame.

  She danced aside and hurled another ball at him like a major league pitcher with the bases loaded. He blocked it and started circling, looking for an opening.

  Galahad knew Caroline would eventually wear the bastard down, since Geirolf's vamps ran out of magic when they used up the life force they'd stolen. Majae, on the other hand, drew on the raw energy of the Mageverse itself.

  Unfortunately, she probably didn't have that much time. He was willing to bet the bastard's reinforcements were on the way.

  He had to wrap this up.

  Galahad leaped for the priest, bellowing a battle cry as he swung his sword with all his strength. The cultist spun, throwing up another one of those magical shields. The blade jolted in Galahad's hands as it hit the glowing barrier hard enough to rattle his back teeth. He ignored the sensation and started hacking, trying to batter down the shield before the priest could muster stronger defenses.

  A burst of heat blazed against his back. Hell, another one already. Galahad ducked, glancing around for his new foe.

  "Ooops!" Caroline called, a second fireball floating in her hand. "Sorry!"

  "Watch it!" he growled and returned his attention to his opponent.

  But the vampire had taken advantage of his instant's distraction to create a sword and armor. The priest now wore a suit of iridescent black mail, swinging the sword with skillful rotations of one wrist. Gierolf must have magically taught his worshipers how to use a blade; most moderns barely knew hilt from point.

  Galahad wasn't worried. No spell could match his sixteen hundred years as a swordsman.

  The only question was--how long before the rest of the cultists arrived?

  CAROLINE watched anxiously, looking for an opening. The two vampires were so fast, she was afraid to try another shot for fear of hitting Galahad again.

  Besides, he didn't seem to need the help. The knight moved in an oiled blur of gold, battering at his opponent with flashing strokes of his sword.

  There! They'd whirled apart.

  Magic rushed down her arm, tingling and stinging to coalesce in a white-hot ball. She hurled it at the priest with all the force she could muster. He screamed, the sound blending with an outraged female shriek.