Tall, Dark & Fangsome

by Michelle Rowen

  I pushed up enough to see that I was in my bed fully dressed, except that my shoes and coat had been removed. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

  “We tried. You were dead to the world, and I mean that literally. You don’t breathe and you have no heartbeat. You’re lucky we didn’t embalm you.”

  I let myself collapse back onto my pillow. “Maybe you should have. It would solve a lot of problems.”

  His expression turned wary. “Now that the chain is gone, are you still feeling… normalish?”

  “Normal is a very relative term.” I swung my legs out of bed. I felt weak and shaky, but there was no immediate need to attach myself to George’s jugular like a brunette leech. “Where’s Thierry?”

  “He was by your side all afternoon.”

  “He was?” The thought gave my room-temperature body a little inner glow.

  George nodded. “Obviously he wasn’t aware of the morning-breath situation. Mint?” He presented me with a couple of Tic Tacs.

  I took them. I could take a hint. “Thanks.”

  “Right now he’s on the phone with Barry about Amy being missing.” His brow furrowed. “Did she mention anything to you about leaving our favorite little maître d’ for another man?”

  I swallowed. “Gideon has her.”

  He paled. “Any man other than that would have been okay with me.”

  “He’s going to use her to make sure I sire him tonight.”

  His jaw tightened. “That bastard.”

  “George, please give Sarah and me a moment alone.” Thierry was at the doorway looking in.

  He turned. “Gideon has Amy.”

  Thierry nodded gravely. “I heard you.”

  George looked frantic. “This is horrible. I feel completely useless just waiting around to see what’s going to happen. There has to be something I can do to help.”

  “I could use some coffee,” I said.

  He nodded. “Excellent idea. I’ll make coffee.”

  He turned and left us alone.

  “Amy’s not the only person Gideon has right now,” I said evenly. “He’s also got Veronique.”

  Thierry’s eyes widened a fraction. “He’s kidnapped her as well?”

  I shook my head. “She’s with him more in the mattress-testing capacity. She doesn’t seem to see that there’s anything wrong with that. He’s a powerful man and she’s a survivor. End of story.”

  I couldn’t read his expression, but it darkened significantly. “I’m very disappointed to hear that. I would have expected more from her.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m well aware of her selfishness, after all, I’ve known her for a very long time. But this? To learn that she’d rather aid a man like Gideon, whose family has been nothing but death-bringers to vampires for centuries…” He exhaled. “I am disappointed.”

  “She also gave me some of her blood. Gideon thought that drinking from a third master vampire like Veronique would make me an even more powerful sire for him.”

  “I fear he may be right about that.”

  I rose from the bed and moved toward him, but not too close. I was still very awkward after everything that had happened. The whole situation positively sucked. “Sucked” actually wasn’t a strong enough word.

  Really sucked.

  “Veronique’s blood was powerful enough to give me control. At least for a little while. I’m still thirsty… it’s like I’m always thirsty now, but I can control it at the moment. I don’t know how long this is going to last.” I turned away from him when my throat thickened up. “I’m so sorry.”

  He touched my back and the warmth sank into my cold skin. “What are you sorry about?”

  “For everything. Things haven’t gotten easier. They’ve gotten worse. And worse. And it’s all my fault. You probably wish you’d never met me.”

  “If I had never met you I would have ended my existence three months ago.”

  Oh, yeah. I forgot about that for a little while. I had a quick flashback to a tall bridge and a man in a long dark coat who felt he had lived too long. He’d wanted to find peace that night. Instead he found me.

  Maybe he should have jumped when he had the chance.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again.

  “Please, stop apologizing.” He pulled me against him and hugged me tight to his chest. “You are right about many things. It hasn’t gotten any easier for us. But I don’t wish I’d never met you. I cherish the moment you entered my life.”

  I shook my head and couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “Then you’re even crazier than I thought you were.”

  “Perhaps I am.” He held my face in his hands and leaned over to kiss me chastely on the lips. “Now you must stop this so we can decide what must be done.”

  “It’s simple. I’m going to sire Gideon at midnight so he’ll let Amy go.”

  Thierry was quiet for a long moment. “That can’t happen.”

  “What?”

  “Last night you proved to me that your blood was strong enough to heal even the deadly injury that I sustained. What kind of a vampire will it turn Gideon into now that you’re even stronger? And what level of power will you transfer to him? It’s too much to risk.”

  I licked my dry lips. “He gave me the impression he was looking at life a little differently. That he might change.”

  “And now what do you believe?”

  “I believe he broke my chain and burned my grimoire. I hate him.”

  “And yet you still want to help him tonight.” He glowered at me. “How curious.”

  “This has nothing to do with having the hots for his body. He has Amy.”

  A dark eyebrow raised.

  “He has Amy,” I said, more firmly.

  His face tightened and his eyes narrowed. “How do you know he’ll free Amy once you do as he says?”

  “I’m not seeing any other choices here.” My bottom lip trembled and his hard expression softened significantly.

  “I apologize for my frustration.” He exhaled. “I normally can find my way through unpleasant situations, and this—with Gideon, with your curse—it has me at a disadvantage.”

  “I know.” I hugged him and he brushed his lips against mine again. I swallowed and looked up at his tense expression. “What time is it right now?”

  “It’s seven o’clock.”

  If I currently had a heartbeat it would speed up at that. Ditto breathing. “We have five hours until the ritual’s supposed to start.”

  “There’s something else you need to know,” he said softly and wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “Please tell me I won the lottery. I could use some good news right now.”

  He shook his head. “It’s… it’s the Ring. They’ve contacted me.”

  “The pow-wow at Barry’s house the other morning?”

  “They called me today personally. It’s about your curse. They know about it. They already knew about your reputation of being the Slayer of Slayers—”

  “False reputation,” I corrected.

  “Of course it’s false. But it’s lasting, and speculation is growing. They already considered you a potentially dangerous member of vampire society, but now, with the curse—” He looked at me then, a searching gaze over my face. “They’ve ordered your elimination.”

  My mouth went dry. “But you convinced them that I’m not evil and everything’s okay now?”

  “They wouldn’t listen. They feel I’m too close to the situation to give an objective opinion.” He looked away from me and at my full-length shard mirror that hung on the wall. The mirror able to reflect vampires showed both of us from head to toe.

  I felt ill. “So what happens now?

  “If we can’t find a way to break your curse—” His normally steady voice betrayed a hard edge of stress. “You’ll change. I’ve seen it. Your eyes—in the alley when you attacked the fledgling. It wasn’t you anymore.”

  My jaw tightened. “You’re right.”

&n
bsp; “Without the gold chain as protection that darkness will now begin to soak through to your true self.”

  A chill went down my arms. “I can already feel it getting stronger.”

  His eyes were filled with barely controlled anguish. “If you become like that permanently I know what I’ll have to do.”

  “It’s obvious,” I said, surprised by how calm I sounded. “You’ll have to kill me.”

  He shook his head. “No, there’s another answer. I can take you somewhere. Somewhere that isn’t populated. I can keep you safe and away from others.”

  “Locked up in some castle like a hunchbacked monster?”

  “It won’t be like that.”

  The more Thierry spoke, the more distraught I saw he was becoming over the problem that is Sarah Dearly, the more I knew the answer to this situation—the only answer there was.

  It was simple, really. Crystal clear.

  “Listen to me, Thierry.” I placed my hands against his cheeks and made him look at me instead of at the floor. “I need you to make me a promise. If I become total Dark Sarah all the time and there’s the threat of my hurting anyone, I want you to stake me.”

  “Sarah—”

  I shook my head. “If I can’t live a long, healthy, happy, immortal life with you, then I don’t want to live at all. And I don’t want to be hunted down like a rabid dog by the Ring’s assassins. When I go completely nightwalker, I’m not me. The real me will have already died. You have to kill me.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

  “Thierry,” I said it more sharply than I’d ever said his name before. “I’m serious. I know this sucks. I’m not exactly asking for flowers and jewelry here. Or a temporary loan of cash, which actually I could really use at the moment.” I tried to smile, but it was a lost cause. “I know you’ll do it quickly. It won’t hurt.”

  He didn’t say anything for a very long time. “We’ll find another way.”

  “Stop being so damn stubborn and just promise me this. Please.”

  “Damn it, Sarah.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “If you won’t do it, I can always ask Barry. I know he won’t have a problem with this request.”

  His silver eyes glistened as he looked at me long and hard. “If this is really what you want—”

  “It is.”

  “Then I promise. But only if there’s no other possible solution.”

  He crushed me against him so hard it took my breath away. That is, it would have, if I still needed to breathe. His body warmed me up a little and I sank against him, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him softly.

  I’d just totally asked my boyfriend to stake me. And he’d said yes.

  I had no idea why I felt good about that.

  But I knew it was the right thing to do. Out of every decision I’d made recently—both the good ones and the questionable ones—I knew this was right.

  Dying wasn’t my first choice. Or my second, either. Hell no. Part of me fought forward, wanting to beg him to forget everything I’d just said, but I pushed that cowardly part of myself back down where it belonged.

  I didn’t want to live if I was a nightwalker. She was a different person entirely—a mean, nasty, black poison that ran just below the surface of my skin. A monster lying in wait, ready for the chance to take over my life.

  She had to die.

  I’d fight like hell to find another solution to this monumental problem, of course, but a girl always has to have a Plan B just in case.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” Thierry murmured into my hair. “I’ve only just found you.”

  I was wrapped in his arms and his warm scent embraced me as well. He always smelled so good. Behind it I could smell him, the warmth of his skin. I could even smell the distress he felt at the moment. I slid my hands through his dark hair and propped myself up on my tiptoes so I could look him right in his eyes. Then I kissed him, gentle at first, but it grew and grew until his mouth opened to mine and I swept my tongue against his, tangling and sliding together, and it only made me want more.

  I silently thanked George for the well-timed breath mints.

  Anxiety moved away from me like heavy clouds parting to show the sunshine and I drank him in, his taste, his scent, the feel of his body against me. Strong arms, a firm chest, his heart pounding against my silent one. I took that heartbeat and concentrated on it, tasting it as I tasted him, and it filled me with a deep aching need.

  “I want you, Thierry,” I whispered.

  “This is not the time,” he said, but his body didn’t seem to agree. He wanted me, too. Hard to hide something like that.

  I smiled inwardly and shut off any more protests with another kiss he didn’t resist at all. His hands dropped down to the small of my back as he pulled me tighter against him.

  However, he did jump a little when I bit his tongue and tasted his blood. The world around me—it really didn’t exist anymore as far as I was concerned—had faded and fogged and grown warmer with every moment that passed. I sucked on his tongue and he let out a deep groan of desire from the back of his throat.

  I bit my own tongue so he could taste my blood as well, and as he did, his breathing increased.

  He’d been able to stop last night when he’d drunk some of my blood. He’d been practicing his restraint, but this was still a dangerous scenario I was in. Playing with fire.

  Big no-no.

  If that was so, then what in the hell did I think was I doing?

  Ah, but that’s the problem. I wasn’t doing it anymore. My nightwalker had been so sneaky I hadn’t even felt her creep up behind my subconscious to take me over. She welcomed Thierry’s addiction, she nourished it, she wanted to feed it, groom it, and pet it. She liked pushing him over the edge. She found him much more interesting when he was out of control.

  I worked my cool hands up the front of his black shirt to touch his hot skin, feeling his fast heartbeat against my flattened palms. I slid my hands down his abdomen.

  “Please,” he groaned, and I wasn’t sure if it was a “please stop” or a “please don’t stop.”

  Probably a mixture of the two.

  Nice.

  “Do you want me?” I asked in a low, throaty voice that sounded very unlike the real me.

  “Yes,” he hissed.

  He pulled back just enough to show that his eyes had turned to black. Just like mine were—as a quick glance at my shard confirmed. I pulled the hair off the side of my neck, baring it to him. He lowered his mouth to me and slid his tongue up the length of my throat. I shivered at the wet warmth left behind and it made things low in my body wake up.

  “What are you doing to me?” he said. “I can’t control this. Don’t make me do this to you.”

  I wasn’t making him. It wasn’t as if I had any mind control over other vampires as a nightwalker, like what Amy called my “thrall” over weak-minded humans.

  Amy.

  I pushed the distant thought of a friend in need away, concentrating only on the feel of Thierry’s mouth as he tasted me—his fangs grazing my neck but not quite piercing the skin. He was fighting for control. The memory of almost draining me that night not so long ago was probably still very vivid for him.

  At the moment all I wanted was to make him bite me again. Why did I have to be alone? I could still be with Thierry. If he embraced his monster while I embraced mine…

  Then nothing else mattered.

  My nightwalker thrilled to that idea, but there was a small piece of me that disagreed—the weak and dying part of Sarah Dearly who wanted to stop this before it was too late.

  “Thierry—” There was something in my tone now, something more than desire or lust. It was a thread of panic. It made him pull away from me to look into my dark, dark eyes. Intelligence came back to his glazed expression.

  My hands still roamed very freely over his beautiful body. My mouth still sought his lips for another kiss. Or, forget his lips, I nuzzled instead against his thro
at, tasting the skin there, trying to find the best place to sink into. But I forced myself to clench my teeth, trying to grab hold of the control that danced away just out of my reach.

  “You need to slap me,” I told him after a moment. “Veronique was able to stop me from biting her when she slapped me.”

  He swallowed hard. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t or you won’t?”

  “I won’t hit you,” he said firmly.

  “Don’t say I didn’t offer.” I sank my sharp fangs into his throat and his blood spilled into my mouth—so unbelievably delicious and addictive and just plain yummy. I drank him in, literally, and felt my untapped power increase even further, like a glowing light at my core getting brighter and brighter—a sun that wouldn’t hurt me, that would only make me stronger.

  Thierry pushed at me. Even though I knew he didn’t have a problem with my bite, as evidenced a few times before in our relationship, he was now trying to stop me.

  “Slap me,” I begged him again. “Before it’s too late.”

  Then I felt someone’s hands on my back and I was pulled off Thierry where I had him pinned to the bed. My eyes widened at that realization. When did we get to the bed? I turned with a hiss at the unexpected interruption.

  Janie Parker stood behind me. “Hey there. How’s it going?”

  Then she hauled back and backhanded me so hard my ears rang.

  Chapter 18

  Did you say something about slapping you?” Janie whacked the other side of my face even harder. “I’m only trying to help.”

  Half of me wanted to lunge at her and tear her throat out—well, we’d never really been bosom buddies—but the pain from the slap helped me gain a little control back. I skulked over to the far side of the room and glared at her from the shadows.

  Quinn was behind her with an expression that was part worry, part disgust. Harsh judgment from a former vampire hunter who once upon a time had the hots for me. Just super duper.

  Thierry held a hand to his injured neck for a moment until it healed as if by magic. His expression was unreadable. “Thank you for intervening.”

  Janie shook her head. “When a woman gives you explicit permission to slap her around, you should take her up on it.”