by Unknown
He swallowed.
“Can you hold this?” she asked, as Jacques’s hand closed around it, his eyes dilated at her words.
“You’re a handful,” he stated, lustily.
The laughter came from her in a melodious burst, and it slid across both of their bodies.
Pressing her lips to his, Jolie ran her tongue over the fangs in his mouth. It made him wild, and he yanked on the chain, trapping her to his body.
Oh yes, mission accomplished.
Jolie couldn’t wait until later that night.
When he put his hand on her ass, and she wrapped one leg around his, Jacques nearly lost his mind. His mate was pretty close to naked under the skirt.
Then, he lost focus as she nicked her tongue on his extended fangs. The taste of her flooded his mouth, and his body responded accordingly.
He was hard.
Desperate.
And in need of his woman.
It was as if she knew how to enflame him further. Breaking away, she headed to the mirror to add her lipstick. It was hard not to leer, but as of late, all he wanted to do was run his hands and lips across Jolie’s body.
As her hips swayed, he watched the chain skirt flash the bits and pieces of flesh which he craved most.
When she spoke, he tried to focus.
“I hope you like this color, Jacques,” she said, rubbing it on her lips. When she turned, it looked like she had just pulled away from someone’s neck. “It’s called ‘Bloody Fantasy’.”
His laughter was that of a mad man.
“What’s yours, my love?” she asked.
Once more, she was tempting the monster which lived in him, and he needed to have her. As he walked to her, Jacques grabbed the chain hanging from her collar. He yanked her to his chest as control balanced precariously on a thinly drawn line.
Jolie gasped as he used the chain to direct her. In response, her heart began pounding.
He was about to begin his assault on her body when the doorbell rang. “The detective has horrible timing. We’ll finish this later, mon amour,” he promised, as he released her to answer the door.
When he opened it, there stood Flynn, and he was dressed in normal street clothes.
“Nice clothes, Vlad,” he said, laughing. “Is the doctor going as Mrs. Count Dracula?”
Jacques waited for him to see her, and when the man stopped dead in his tracks, that was enjoyment enough.
“Holy shit,” was all he managed before he dropped his car keys that he had been twirling around his finger.
“Precisely,” said Jacques.
“Wow! I’ve never seen anything like that,” he muttered before continuing, “Are you sure that you’re Doctor Harcourte? Or are you her evil twin who comes out to torment men?” he asked, pointing at Jolie’s outfit.
“I’m both.”
At the implication of her words, he lost the ability to think for a few seconds. When he got his voice back under control, he pointed at the chain dangling from the collar. “What’s with that?”
“It’s a slave collar. Need I explain more?” she asked, as she watched him swallow. As if to punctuate it all, she walked toward him, hips swaying and chain skirt flashing skin. Stopping in front of him, she handed it to him.
At the action, Jacques hissed and Brogan dropped like it was hot. “Damn it! Are you letting her out like this?” he asked, glancing over at Jacques.
“Unfortunately, I have to. If I say no, she would only find something worse to wear. I’ve made that mistake once before, and it ended badly. I had to take lives to prove a point.”
Flynn wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. “I don’t think there’s anything worse out there.”
“I doubt it too, but I don’t wish to challenge her ability to torture me.”
“You better keep an eye on her. That outfit is screaming trouble,” said Brogan. It also was screaming ‘take me and screw my brains out’, but he was trying desperately not to picture that in his head. “Well, did I do okay with mine?” he asked, spinning in a circle.
“Flynn, you’re only wearing black pants, a black shirt and black leather jacket,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’ve got something in my room that will goth it up. Be right back.”
Both men watched as she hopped up the steps, the tiny skirt swaying back and forth, entrancing the men who were watching it.
Brogan turned to notice Jacques staring at him. “Hey, I can’t help it. She’s stunning in a suit, but in that outfit, well she is every man’s wet dream,” he stated, putting out his hand. “Really, no offense.”
“None was taken. Bonded mates get incredibly possessive, despite that vampyres are very sexual. We think nothing of having more than one sex partner,” he said, shaking the man’s outstretched hand.
“Oh, really?” he asked, grinning manically as he rubbed his hands together.
“Until they mate. Then, the vampyre will kill anyone who touches their chosen.” It was Jacques’s turn to smile at the detective, even though he knew his statement wasn’t one hundred percent true. Many of his kind had a particular human they cared for, since they gave the female children.
Jacques suspected this man was such a case.
“I found it!” she called from the stairs.
Both men stared at her.
“Here,” she said, crossing to Brogan. She had a spiked collar in her hand and went to her toes to put it around his neck. Her breasts rubbed suggestively across his torso, and he tried hard to breathe normally.
Damn!
Her scent was wreaking havoc on his body. As she leaned into him, his hands went to her hips to hold her steady.
Once the collar was on, she held up a foil packet.
Brogan froze, not sure what to think.
Jolie began laughing. “Relax, Flynn. It’s a temporary tattoo and nothing more.”
He was able to breathe again.
Jolie tore it open with her teeth and smiled, knowing the picture that was going through his head. It didn't bother her in the least.
Flynn tried to ignore the thoughts racing through his mind. “How do I put this on?” he asked, taking it from her.
“Want my help?” she asked.
Jacques wanted to growl, but as of yet, the man was being respectful. If he was thinking about Jolie, he didn't give any outward signs.
That he appreciated, since he didn't want to ruin his clothes when he was forced to harm the man.
“Can you?” he asked.
Jolie led him to the nearest bathroom and hopped up on the counter.
Brogan refused to look down. If he did, he was screwed.
“Take off your jacket and shirt, Flynn. I don’t want to get it all wet while I do this.”
He prayed for a miracle, but he obeyed. If anyone told him that he would be getting shirtless in front of a vampyre, who he wanted desperately, he would have slapped the shit out of them.
Jolie watched his fingers hesitate. “I’ll help you,” she offered, moving his hands. Slowly, she finished with the buttons and waited for him to slip it off his body.
It was hard not to notice the detective was in excellent shape. She was accustomed to well-built men, since Jacques was pretty much perfect. Yet, a human in good shape was a treat. Gently, she ran her fingers down the light splattering of curls that punctuated his chest. Their kind was relatively free of hair, and it fascinated her.
No, it allured her. The warmth of flesh and quick kick of his heart made it hard to pull her hand away.
Yes, she had seen naked humans before, but this one was special. She instinctually knew it.
“Move closer, I swear I won’t bite,” she teased, trying to reach his neck.
Flynn was in hell. Oh, he wanted to move closer, but he was fixated on her lips and lower things. Taking a chance, he obeyed and found himself standing between her knees. Swallowing, he tried to control his body.
Jolie reached for a washcloth to wet it. As she peeled the back off the tattoo, her fingers adep
tly went to work.
Brogan was having a really hard time dealing with the scent of her. “You smell good,” he muttered, praying that he didn't do anything to embarrass himself or piss off the male vampyre outside the room.
Somehow, he figured the man was well aware of what was going on in there.
“Thank you, Flynn,” she said, holding the wet washcloth to his neck. “You feel tense.”
He started laughing. “That’s not what I’m feeling.”
Jolie grinned up at him. “Do I make you nervous?”
“Again, not the word that I was thinking.”
Pulling the washcloth away, Jolie inspected her handiwork. “I think it looks good. What do you think?” she asked.
Brogan leaned toward the mirror, acutely aware that her breath was on his neck. Little jolts of electricity shot down his body. Yeah, he knew he was treading dangerously, but he couldn’t help it. Something about Jolie was hypnotic.
Suddenly, he could feel something sliding low on his body, down his chest, and toward his belt buckle.
He grabbed her hand before it could move lower. Heaven help him, but it took all the willpower he had to do it.
Jolie looked up at him innocently with a towel in her hand. “I was only wiping the drops of water off your chest, before you put your shirt on, Flynn,” she replied, grinning wickedly.
He tried to breathe. At that moment, he needed space between them, or he was going to kiss her. “Sorry,” he muttered, picking his shirt off the floor.
“Need my help?” she asked, offering to button it for him.
His lower anatomy screamed yes, but this time his brain won out. “NO!”
Jolie hopped down off the counter and used her fingertips to turn his face. “I like the tattoo, Flynn. It’s sexy just like you.”
With that she walked out, leaving him to stand there gawking. “Holy shit! I’m screwed,” he mumbled, pulling on his shirt.
He wasn’t sure what he had gotten himself into, but her words kept playing over and over again in his mind.
Out in the foyer, Jacques waited for them. It took every ounce of his control not to spy on them. What he wanted to do was rage around the room like some out of control lunatic.
When she appeared, he reached for her mind.
“Are you finished tormenting the both of us?” he asked, sounding more irritated than usual with Jolie’s flirtatious nature.
“Mon amour, what is wrong?” she asked, crossing to him. “I was only having fun with the detective and preparing him for what the club will be like.”
“I know, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Jacques, I love you. You’re my mate, but we’ll have to be sexual tonight. We want to blend in and stay safe. Don’t forget how we felt leaving the club last time. It’ll be fine if we don’t get angry with each other, and you trust me.”
He got the meaning of her words. Jacques knew that he was being irrational. Their kind didn't cheat once they were bonded. There was nothing to worry about.
“Je t’aime,” he whispered, pulling her forward and into his frame to kiss her.
Brogan approached and could tell the male was stirred up. It was funny, because so was he. “Want me to drive?” he offered, interrupting their kiss.
“No thank you, Detective,” Jacques answered. “We should take the H2. It’s safer,” he added, looking at Jolie.
“Yes, my love. Let’s go, Detective.”
It occurred to Brogan that he trusted these two with his life. Trapped inside their vehicle, he could get hurt. Then, something else popped into his head as they moved into the kitchen.
“I thought you said that you didn’t live here alone?” he asked, Jolie.
“We don’t. There are about fifteen society members who live here with us,” she replied, looking over her shoulder at Brogan. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s too quiet. It’s like it’s intentionally silent. That’s always more unnerving,” he answered, scanning his surroundings.
The house was a small town, and he could swear that he felt himself being watched.
That freaked him out.
“You’re very astute, Detective. The family is staying away from you. They’re trying to keep out of your sight,” said Jacques nonchalantly.
“Why?”
“You’re a cop. We’ve been hunted for years, and the police have turned us over to the hunters more than once. If you don’t see their faces, then they believe that they’re safe.”
“Why aren’t you worried?” he asked, a little bit of cockiness touching his voice.
Jacques simply stared at the man. Without saying a word, he raised his hand, and all of a sudden Brogan couldn’t breathe. When he dropped to his knees, only then did Jacques lower his hand. “Because where you might be able to hurt one of them, Jolie and I could kill you before you would ever touch us.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” coughed Brogan, looking up at Jacques, and then Jolie from his knees.
“Ah, but it was. You need to remember what we are, and what we’re about to encounter in ‘The Sanguivore’. We’re predators, Detective. You need to be afraid at all times and not let your guard down, even with us. We may look and act friendly, but if it comes down to it, we’ll kill you to protect our own.”
Jacques continued walking with Jolie at his side. While she didn't say anything out loud, she did reach for his mind.
“He’s a good man, Jacques. That wasn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it was. I’m your guardian, and my first and foremost duty is to protect you. If it means killing the detective, then I’ll do it without thinking twice.”
“I would have done it another way.”
“I understand your discontent, Mistress, but as you said before, I was just preparing him for what was to come.” Jacques angrily closed off his mind.
He knew what was coming, and he didn't like it at all...
∞ Chapter Thirteen ∞
They walked into the garage in silence.
Jacques headed toward the black H2 and opened the door for Jolie. He put out his hand and helped her into the vehicle without saying a word. The same was true for the detective. All that he could muster was a brief nod to the man.
Yes, he was that damn mad.
Granted, he knew he had nothing to worry about, and honestly, he was angrier with himself. He had lost his temper, and that was a bad sign. Truth be told, he was beginning to feel guilty.
Jolie may have had a point.
As he maneuvered the H2 out of the garage, his tenseness must have been evident, because Jolie lovingly placed her hand on his thigh. When he looked down, it was palm up as she offered him a sign of forgiveness.
Like any smart mate, he took it.
“What’s our plan?” asked Brogan, opting to break the tension with talking about the job at hand.
“We’re going to go into the club, try to blend, and ask as many questions as we can,” said Jolie.
“How is that going to work?” asked Brogan.
“I can force them to tell us what they know,” said Jolie. “That’s why I’ll be asking the questions this evening. You and Jacques will be there to help me if things get out of control.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t really need us?” he asked.
“I don’t, but Jacques is my guardian and won’t let me go alone.”
“So, I’m supposed to stand there and smile real pretty? Like what, your boy toy?” he asked, sarcastically. Granted, that idea did have some merit, but not when it came to reality. “I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but I’m the only cop in this vehicle.”
“That’s great, Flynn, but you’re about to be out of your element. Half the people in that club will be donors, and the rest will be vampyres. Unfortunately for you, there’s no way for you to figure out which is which. If they want you to pull your gun and blow your brains out, you will.”
“That’s comforting,” he said. “This is just turning into a funfest
,” he added, turning his head to look out the window.
Jolie glanced over at Jacques, reaching for his mind. “I need to take his blood so that he can call us if he needs to.”
“I know.”
“Plus, my touch on him will keep the nasty vampyres away. He’ll smell like us.”
“Again, I know.”
“Would you like to take his blood instead?”
“He wouldn’t let me near his neck, for fear I would rip his throat out. Now, I wish I didn't just scare the hell out of him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“We can’t let him get hurt. Really, he’s a decent human, Jacques.”
“Yes, so you keep saying. Just do it now, so I don’t have to watch it. I’m too busy driving.”
“I love you, Jacques.”
He said nothing else.
Jolie turned toward the back of the H2 and spoke to the human, “Flynn, I may have a way to protect you once we’re in the club. It’ll also afford you the ability to speak to Jacques and myself in our minds. Would you be willing to do it?”
“It depends on what it is.” Since she was asking, he was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to like it either way.
“Will you let one of us take your blood? It’s how we can call or summon our human donors. It’ll give you the opportunity to reach us whenever, except when we are dead.”
“No way.”
“Detective, if there was another choice, we’d do it. Think of this as option B, and an insurance plan to keep you alive.”
“No, Jacques wants to kill me. I can tell by the way he keeps glaring at me in the mirror. If you come near me, he’ll definitely rip out my throat.”
She continued to push the issue. “Will you let me, please?”
“How much will you take?” he asked cautiously.
“No more than a pint,” she promised, never looking away from his eyes. “Think of it like donating.”
He glanced back out the window, giving it some thought. It would help him reach them if he needed too, plus the memory of the way it felt, when Jacques allowed him to feel the sensation, wasn’t altogether a bad thing. “Okay, but only a pint. I’m fond of my blood, and I’d like to keep as much of it as possible.”