“No. It is like a raging fire inside that can be controlled, but remains alive until it burns itself out.” He put a finger beneath her chin and lifted it until their eyes were level. “This dark side can be frightening to see. I do not know how it will manifest itself. I cannot believe I would ever harm you, but if it emerges, it will fuel my need for sex and the taste of blood. My need for sex with you. My need for your blood.”
Angela captured his gaze. “I trust you,” she said, the love in her voice slicing through the fear he knew was still there. “I trust you with my life, Jonah.”
SHE DID TRUST JONAH. But as he carried her to her room, she had to fight the knot of fear deep in her belly. Her relationship with him was still very new. And while they had already made love, she knew the experience tonight would be different. Because Jonah was different.
The moment he knelt over her on the bed, the darkness within him was as palpable as a heartbeat. Already, his incredible eyes had begun to change from blue and gray to the orange-red she had seen yesterday. Her pulse rate picked up as the fear she had managed to suppress rose up again within her.
Jonah began unbuttoning her blouse and the touch of his fingertips on her breast was like a torch to her skin. He hadn’t kissed her yet and already she was burning with desire. He slid his hand under her back and with his other hand stripped her of her blouse. She started to unhook her slacks, but he pushed her hand aside.
“No,” he growled.
Letting her arms relax on the bed, she gave herself up to the sensuous touch of his hands on her stomach as he worked the slacks, along with her scant lace panties, down her hips. Every time their flesh touched, she shivered from the thrill of it. When she lay there wearing nothing but her bra, he slipped his hands under her back and fumbled with the hooks on the lacy garment. Seconds later, she heard the fabric rip and he tossed the torn garment to the floor.
She had kept her eyes lowered while he undressed her so she could focus on the feel of his hands on her body, but now she opened her eyes and looked at him. She stifled a gasp. The whites of his eyes were now entirely obliterated by two blazing, fiery globes. His skin was flushed and the engorged veins at his forehead pulsed so hard she could almost feel the beat in her own body. Her gaze traveled to his mouth where his incisors lay like two sharp blades on his lower lip.
All of Jonah’s vampire features were amplified, and, as she watched, his face contorted, his jaws expanded, and the fangs seemed to shoot from his gums in one angry eruption.
It took every ounce of willpower she had, and then some, not to scream as his face came down to hers and his fingers, with their extra-long talons, turned her head and exposed the same side of her neck he had pierced the night before. When she felt his tongue move over the still-tender flesh and then the point of his fang pierce her skin, she knew that despite her love for him, she had to do everything in her power to stop his aggression. But could she?
Suddenly, a terrible, nonhuman sound tore through the silence. Jonah had released a horrific scream. He thrashed above her from side to side, his head thrown back until the large veins in his neck looked ready to burst.
She trembled. She had never witnessed anything like this before. She reached up and touched Jonah’s shoulder in an awkward attempt to soothe him, but he roughly brushed her hand aside, leaped from the bed, and threw himself against the wall with such force, the framed art fell to the floor and the windows shook.
Her breath trapped in her lungs, she rolled to her side, hugged her knees to her chest, and closed her eyes against the heart-wrenching sight of Jonah in obvious agony.
What was happening to him?
Chapter Eleven
JONAH STRUCK the wall in Angela’s bedroom over and over again with his fists, his nails cutting into his palms. The Need was clawing at his insides with an intensity he had not experienced before. He needed to have both sex and blood to rid himself of his anger, but he couldn’t risk either with Angela. He had tasted a drop of her blood just moments before, and now he was paying the price.
He doubled over as the pain intensified. He was on the brink of madness, but he still had enough sanity left to realize he had to do something to ease the pain inside him. Something that would protect Angela. He stole a look behind him. She was on the bed curled up in a ball, probably fearing for her life.
A sudden spasm twisted his insides. The agony would not ease until he either satisfied or conquered The Need. The former was out of the question. He could think of only one way that might slay the beast within him. But to carry it off, he would need Angela’s help.
He straightened up and let himself fall back against the wall for support.
“Angela.” He barely got her name out before another spasm gripped him.
She lifted her head and looked at him. He read both fear and pity in her eyes.
“Yes?”
“I . . . need . . . your . . . help.”
She moved to the side of the bed. “How?” The fear was still in her eyes, but there was more. There was also love. Yes, even in the midst of his hellacious pain, he recognized her love for him.
Before he could answer, another painful contraction twisted every nerve and muscle in his body. The pain was like a catalyst setting his blood on fire. He waited for the contraction to ease. “I need you to . . .”
Before he could finish the sentence he doubled over in pain, twisted around, and threw himself against the wall again. His long, claw-like nails dug into the painted surface. He hung there until the pain eased and when it did, he turned back to Angela.
“I need you to open . . .” But the words disappeared as another spasm took his breath away.
ANGELA CAREFULLY watched Jonah and ordered herself to calm down. “What do you want me to do?” Her voice was shaky and sounded strange to her ears. She wished she could cast all fear aside, but it just wasn’t possible yet.
Jonah struck the wall again several times. She could see the large, swollen veins on his neck expand every time he made contact with the hard surface.
“The lock on my door . . .” Jonah took several deep breaths. “You need the numbers.”
At first, she couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. Then a visual formed. He must have a combination lock of some kind on his door that required a set of numbers . . . a passcode. She got off the bed and timidly approached him. “What are they?”
Jonah managed to give her the four numbers in between ragged breaths. “At the end of the hall . . . to the right . . . a door.”
He was obviously directing her to his quarters. She had never been to that area of the house, but it couldn’t be hard to find.
She started to leave the room but hesitated. How was she going to get him in there? Jonah pushed away from the wall and answered her unasked question. “I’ll follow.”
She snatched a robe from the back of the chair, quickly slipped it on, then hurried toward the door, glancing over her shoulder every few steps. Was she afraid for him or herself?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jonah growled as if he’d read her mind. And she knew he had. They shared that ability.
“Yes, we do.” he said, stopping to take a deep, shuddering breath. “But I don’t have enough energy now to keep the connection active.”
She opened the door and started down the hall, Jonah behind her. She could hear his labored breathing, interrupted every few steps by a thump against the wall. She chanced a quick look behind her. He was bouncing from one wall to the other like a drunken man.
Moments later, she turned right and came face to face with a steel door. Above the doorknob was a rectangular box with a keypad. She blew out a pent-up breath and abruptly halted her steps. The thumping sounds behind her had stopped. She spun around. Jonah was hunched over against the wall, his arms crossed at his waist, his face contorted. Her heart contracted.
He was in such pain.
“Hurry.”
With still shaky hands, she reached up to the keypad and punched in the numbers. One-eight-eight-zero. The lock clicked. She grasped the doorknob, turned it, and tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge.
“Push hard,” Jonah gasped behind her.
She turned the knob again and pushed on the door with her shoulder. When she met resistance, she pushed even harder and the door opened a couple of inches.
Jonah’s hand shot out over her shoulder and threw the door open wide. She stepped aside and Jonah all but fell into the room, stumbling and weaving from side to side, trying to make his way across the room to a small alcove. It was then she saw the coffin. Her hand flew to her chest to quiet her pounding heart. What should she do now? Should she stay with Jonah, or leave?
The decision was made for her when the heavy steel door snapped shut behind her.
JONAH FELL INTO the coffin. Over the past decades, he had used the copper-lined casket more times than he could count to heal his physical wounds. But this would be the first time he had sought healing for wounds that were invisible to the eye. He petitioned all the gods and goddesses of the universe for help in this unusual circumstance.
Your petition has been heard, but I must warn you that the healing process will not be easy.
Lilith had answered him. She would help.
Prepare yourself to be healed.
He could feel warmth already moving through his body. Then, just as he was beginning to relax, his body thrashed against the narrow confines of the coffin. And then, everything went dark.
ANGELA’S INITIAL reaction after she stepped into the room had been to turn and run. And then the door closed behind her and panic set in. But before she could give in to that emotion, Jonah convulsed.
Now, as she watched him across the room, she alternated between revulsion and fear. Fear for herself. And fear for Jonah.
She stood frozen to the spot while his body tossed violently from one side of the coffin to the other as his vampire features slowly began to disappear. Even from this distance, she could see the eerie glow of his eyes fading, the sharp talons at the end of his fingers receding, and the fangs retracting back into his gums. For a second, her stomach turned and she fought the urge to retch.
Every few seconds, while his body went through the torturous changes, he would let out a bloodcurdling scream. She managed to keep her own screams in check only by pressing her hands against her mouth.
It seemed she stood there for an eternity, unable to move, unable to think, unable to feel anything but horror and revulsion.
And then Jonah’s shaking stopped and so did her breath. Heart thundering, she waited. For what? For Jonah to move, to give some sign of life? Or . . .? She refused to let her thoughts go in that direction. He had to be okay. He had to be. Without even realizing it, she closed her eyes and offered up a silent prayer.
Put away your fear. He is alive.
Thinking that someone had entered the room, she spun around, ready to defend herself. But she was alone.
He is alive.
She released the air trapped in her lungs and relief spread through her body. Lilith. It was the goddess assuring her that Jonah was alive.
She slowly walked across the room to where Jonah lay. She approached the coffin cautiously, not wanting to startle him. She needn’t have worried. He appeared asleep, resting comfortably, his face a mask of contentment. All signs of the vampire were gone.
How long would he be like this? She didn’t want to leave him. Actually, she wasn’t sure she could leave him, given the way that door slammed behind her. But if he didn’t wake up soon, she’d find out.
A few hours later, she went to the door, prepared for some resistance, but the door opened easily.
She was about to step out of the room when Jonah called out to her.
“ANGELA.”
At the sound of his voice, Angela turned and smiled broadly, letting the door close behind her.
She didn’t move toward him, but he couldn’t blame her. He could only imagine what she had witnessed while his body was being healed. Gripping the side of the coffin, he sat up slowly, unsure how his body would react. Since this was a first for him, he had no history to rely on. He felt a second of lightheadedness, then the fogginess in his brain cleared and he felt his life force return.
“Do you need any help?”
He had to suppress a smile at the uncertainty in her voice. She was clearly still in a state of mild shock.
He threw one leg over the side of the coffin. “No, my darling. I’m fine. But how are you?” He stood and stretched, more to give her time to adjust to seeing him once again as the Jonah she knew and not because he needed the time to get his bearings. He held out his arms. He might as well find out now if what she had witnessed had affected her reaction to him.
To his relief, she ran to him kissing him and sobbing as though her heart had been broken. And, he supposed, in a way it had been. He held her close, passing his hands lightly across her back to soothe her.
She tightened her arms around him. “I was so frightened, so afraid you. . . . I didn’t know if you . . .”
“If I’d ever wake up again?”
She nodded against his chest.
“I’m afraid it will take much more than that to get rid of me.” He set her away from him and looked down into her eyes. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”
She nodded again. “Yes.” She closed her eyes. “You had convulsions.”
He drew her back into the fold of his arms. “I’m sorry you had to witness that but it was the lesser of two evils. In order to keep you safe, I had to battle The Need within myself.”
“I understand.”
He doubted that, but for now, it was the best he could hope for. A wave of dizziness swept over him. When it passed, he put some distance between them.
“I’m in need of rest at the moment. We can either go back to your bedroom or you can stay here and share my bed. Or,” he quickly added, “you can go back to your room alone and I’ll join you later. It’s up to you.”
“I want to stay with you.”
He turned in the direction of his bed. “Then come.”
ANGELA FOLLOWED Jonah’s glance and for the first time since she’d entered his quarters, she noticed the bed. It was against the wall behind her, centered between an antique dresser and an equally old desk. The bed, too, was ancient. And huge. It reminded her of the kind of bed you’d see in movies set in another century. The thought gave her pause. This man, with whom she’d fallen in love, was himself from another century.
Jonah took her hand and started walking in the direction of the sleeping area. “It shouldn’t take me long to regain my full strength, and then we can go back to your room if you wish.”
He stopped when they reached the bed. Looking down at her, he grinned. “Which side would you prefer?”
She smiled, glad to see humor in his eyes. “It’s your bed, you choose.”
He sat on the edge of the mattress and wrapped his arms around her waist, falling back and taking her with him. “I choose this side . . . for both of us.”
She landed on top of him and forgot all about his weakened condition. All she could think about was how good his hard body felt beneath hers and how much she wanted him. She was immediately overcome with guilt. He needed to fully recuperate from his terrible ordeal before she started thinking about sex.
No need to feel guilty, my love.
I suppose it’s no longer a struggle for you to communicate with me silently.
The only struggle I’m having right now is keeping myself from ravaging you.
She didn’t mind that feeling at all. In fact, it thrilled her.
Naughty girl.
She laughed
. She kept forgetting that, even when she wasn’t intentionally communicating with him, he could read her thoughts.
Especially when those thoughts are intense.
She ran a finger across his lips. “How do you feel?”
He cupped one of her breasts. “I feel fine. But you feel better.”
She shook her head in dismay. “Who’s the naughty one now?”
He gave her breast a firm, but gentle squeeze. “I plead guilty.”
She lowered her head to his shoulder and nuzzled his neck with her nose. It was so good to have him back. Even though they had already been intimate, there was still so much about him she didn’t know. She planted a kiss on the curve between his shoulder and his neck and he shivered. She liked that. She ran her thumbnail down the center of his chest.
“Don’t stop there.”
She dragged her nail to his waist.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “You’re toying with me now, you vixen.”
“I’m just taking my time. You’ve been through an ordeal and for all I know, you could still be in a weakened state. I wouldn’t want to set your recovery back.”
He rolled her over and spread his body over hers. “Does this look like a man in a weakened state?”
She was enjoying this banter immensely. He was more lighthearted since his healing than he’d ever been before. She nipped his nose with her teeth. “It’ll take more than that to convince me.”
Jonah’s body tensed. “Is that a challenge?”
“Do you want it to be?”
She felt him harden between her legs and she noticed a subtle change in the colors of his eyes. She locked her fingers behind his neck to keep his gaze steady. “I want you,” she whispered.
“Those words are an aphrodisiac to me,” he said, his voice husky. “And you’ve stirred The Need in me again.”
“Do you think you . . . that we should . . . ?”
“Are you afraid I might lose control?”
Jonah’s voice held a note of concern, and for a brief moment, she felt ashamed that she had doubted him.
The Vampire Jonah Page 12