Immortal Promise: A STANDALONE Vampire Romance (Vampire Mates)

by Kim Loraine

  “How many witches are there in the world?”

  He shakes his head and sighs. “It’s ever-changing. I’m sure it would have been a vastly greater number if it hadn’t been for the witches being hunted down like dogs by puritans with pyromania.”

  “And you have a good relationship with them? This coven?”

  A slight shrug raises his shoulders. “Things haven’t been what I would call…good…in quite a long time, but I don’t think they’re sharpening their wooden stakes either.”

  “But I killed Thea’s son.”

  “Yes, that you did.”

  “Don’t you think they’ll be a little pissed if we go there and demand they break the curse?”

  He laughs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Contrasting gestures that betray his frustration. “Look, I could leave you here to figure this out. I don’t have to help you. But those witches have something I need, and if I can get in, I can take it.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re using this as an opportunity to steal something from them?”

  “Do you want to cure him or not? This is your only option. Thea will kill you with this curse.”

  I clench my teeth and glance at the door. I can hear Brandt screaming with rage, the bars of his cell rattling over and over. I can only imagine him crashing into the cage, trying to break out even though the silver burns him.

  “Fine. When do we leave?”

  Lucas glances out the window. “It’s nearly sunrise. We’ll have to go in at nightfall.”

  “But…what if she comes back?”

  His brows rise. “Do what you did to her son. Or, pray she’s finished with you and leaves you two to kill each other.”

  With that, Lucas Blackthorne strides up the stairs, humming to himself as though we don’t have a crazed vampire locked in a cell in the basement.

  I stay downstairs, unable to leave the sound of Brandt’s tortured cries. He calls my name, over and over. Someone should be there. Someone should comfort him. And when the light of the sun begins to filter in through the windows, I do the one thing I shouldn’t. I crack open the basement door and ease down the stairs.

  “Claire? What are you doing?” Brandt’s voice is normal. There’s no hint of maniacal need in the deep resonance. Did I imagine the whole thing? But the angry red burns on his hands and chest prove that’s not the case.

  I glance toward the stairs. “The sun is rising.”

  “You should be in one of the bedrooms.”

  “I want to be here. I need to see you.”

  He shakes his head. “I could kill you.”

  “You said I couldn’t drain you. I’m a vampire, you won’t kill me.”

  “You can’t drain me. I, on the other hand, am older and stronger. If I don’t stop, I’ll drink you dry.” A long, slow inhalation of breath comes from where he’s positioned himself in the back of the cell. “You smell like everything I need. It’s driving me mad.”

  His black irises follow me as I pace the floor in front of him. Dangerous lust manifests as something so strong it’s nearly its own being. I want him. God, I need him.

  “Brandt, what’s happening?” My body is aching with desire as his gaze rakes my form.

  “The curse is using our mating bond against us. It’s only natural for us to crave each other, but this is…it’s like an addiction. You shouldn’t have come down here.”

  I step closer to the bars. So does he. Our eyes never waver from each other. “I had to. You were all alone. Calling for me.”

  He licks his lips and groans when I’m an inch away from the silver. “Back away, Claire.”

  I shake my head. “I need your body close. I need your scent around me.” Deep inside I know this is the madness of Thea’s curse making me reckless. I’m the weapon of Brandt’s destruction, and losing him is the worst possible punishment she could’ve dealt.

  “Just, trust me. Please?” His voice is low and thick with want.

  I step back until I’m out of his reach. He visibly sags with relief then shrinks away until he’s against the wall. Even this much separation brings on an itch in my blood.

  “Take off your shirt.” The words catch me off guard.

  “What?”

  “I said… Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”

  His eyes burn through me, sending waves of longing through my belly and down, down, down, until my core is desperate to feel his touch. I grab the hem of my top and lift until the fabric is over my head and then falling to the floor. My breasts are bare and nipples tight with arousal.

  “Good.” He slides a palm down his chest until he reaches his waistband. “Now your pants.”

  I can’t help myself, I gasp in surprise. “Brandt, I—”

  “Pants, Claire. If I can’t make you come, I’ll at least see you do it.”

  Everything in me tightens at those words. “You too, then,” I demand.

  He grins, but starts unbuttoning his pants. “Always fighting.”

  With slow movements, I strip, enjoying his heated gaze on every bare inch of me. I’m overcome by a sudden wave of need for his touch and I take one involuntary step forward but he stops me with a sharp bark, “No.”

  “There’s a cot over there in the corner, do you see it?”

  I turn my head and catch sight of the small bed. It reminds me of camping when I was younger. Foldable, but functional. There’s even a pillow and blanket. Striding toward the bed, I fight the pull of his eyes and train my attention on my goal.

  “Lie down and close your eyes,” he orders.

  “I want to see you.”

  “You will, but first, do as I say.”

  Positioning myself on the cot, I lie back, closing my eyes and waiting.

  “Do you remember how my hands felt on your body?”

  “Yes,” I say, my voice breathy from his words alone.

  “Good. Now, take your hand and put it on your neck.”

  I do.

  “Imagine it’s me, feathering my touch over your soft as velvet skin. It’s torture for me not to rush this. I want to slide my hand down until I reach your slick pussy, but I know how much better it will be if you have to wait.”

  God, this is hot, and I haven’t even moved my fingers from my throat. I take in a shuddering breath and almost open my eyes, but my mate says, “No. Don’t break the spell.” He groans and after a moment, continues. “I run my fingers over your breasts and then trail them over your nipples, stopping to pinch each tight little bud.”

  I gasp as my fingers become his in my fantasy. The feel of him makes me writhe and scissor my legs. “Brandt,” I moan.

  “Then I move down, over your ribs and to your hips. Over the ridge of your hip bones and down until my palms rest on top of your tight little cunt.”

  I moan.

  “You want me to touch you, Claire? Do you want me to give you the heat and pleasure you crave?”

  “Yes.” The word is a strangled groan.

  “I brush my thumb over your clit and rub across your skin in gentle, slow circles until you’re nothing but a breathy, needy thing.”

  I do it. I play with myself, imagining it’s him and taking myself to the very edge.

  “Open your eyes,” he commands. “Want you to see what you do to me.”

  The first thing I see is him standing near the bars, cock straining in his hand as he strokes himself and watches me bring myself to orgasm.

  “God, Brandt. I need to come. Tell me I can.” I don’t care if I’m begging. I need nothing more than for him to finish this. If he weren’t locked in a cage, he’d be fucking me up against the wall, pulling my pleasure from me.

  “Yes. God, Claire, come with me.”

  Blinding pleasure takes me, making me whimper as my toes curl and waves of euphoria crash over me. He gives a harsh cry and his hips buck as he spills his climax across the dusty stone floor.

  Then everything is silent. The two of us stare at each other, not breathing, not moving. I have to fix this. I can’t go eternity w
ith my mate trapped behind silver bars.

  “I’m going to get rid of this curse,” I say, but then the heavy weight of the rising sun deadens my blood, and I fall into a deep sleep I couldn’t pull myself from if I tried.

  14

  Claire

  “Are you sure we can go in there?” I ask Lucas as we stand outside the doors to Our Lady of the Lake, a darkened monastery at the edge of a mountain lake somewhere in the Cascades. “I never knew this was here. But, I’m not really the outdoorsy type.”

  “We’re not going to burst into flames, if that’s what you mean,” Lucas practically snorts. “Honestly, the things that have been said about us in pop culture.”

  “So, why are we standing outside a convent? I doubt they’ll be able to help us find the witches.”

  He laughs and leads me through the open gate. “Oh, you sweet innocent darling. These are the witches.”

  We stand together waiting at the doors but I don’t know why.

  “Should we knock?” I ask, but he holds up a hand to stop me.

  “No. They know we’re here.”

  That sends a chill down my spine. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

  Then, all at once, each window floods with light and the doors open. Standing at the mouth of an old, gothic staircase is a beautiful woman with long, dark hair falling in rows of neatly kept dreadlocks all the way to her waist.

  “Lucas Blackthorne. What have we done to deserve your attention this time?” She doesn’t say it like his attention is a good thing. And she looks far from amused as she cocks her hip. The long emerald green robe she’s wearing falls open across her chest, revealing generous cleavage and absolutely no shame.

  “Amaya, I do so enjoy our little chats. As much as I’d love to get reacquainted, I’m here about a problem with one of your coven members.”

  “Thea.” She says the name with such certainty, I squirm.

  “She cursed me,” I blurt out.

  Amaya raises a brow and looks at me like I just spit on her. “Who are you? Lucas’s flavor of the night?” Then she steps closer to the door and stares me down. “Oh, no. You aren’t some unsuspecting thing. You’re a vampire, aren’t you, girl?”

  “I am.”

  “But he didn’t make you, did he? You’re not his.”

  Even the thought of him touching me the way Brandt does makes my stomach churn. “No.”

  “Amaya, darling—” Lucas begins, but she holds up a hand.

  “Don’t. You’re lucky I haven’t sent a ball of sunshine straight up your ass, Blackthorne.”

  “Please, she’s cursed me and my mate. I need…a way to break it.”

  “Mmm-hmm. And what did you do to get your butts cursed? Thea wouldn’t toss a curse at someone without reason.”

  “It was,” I swallow and try again when the words get stuck in my throat. “It was an accident. I killed her son.”

  She sucks in a sharp breath. “You’re the one. I didn’t think she’d actually go after you.”

  “Honestly, she was newly turned, on her own because her idiot mate let her leave. She didn’t know how to stop.” Lucas takes my side, and I’m thankful, because the anger in her eyes terrifies me.

  “Well, come in then, you two. It seems like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  Lucas and I step over the threshold as soon as she utters the invitation, but there’s a strange thickness in the air. It’s almost like I’m walking through sand. “What is that?” I ask under my breath.

  “That,” Amaya says, “Is the binding I set as soon as you walked through our door.”

  “We’re essentially powerless until we leave,” Lucas mutters. “She’s basically neutered me.”

  “Oh, would that I could, vampire. If your dick wasn’t part of the equation with you, I’m sure Natalie would never have left us.”

  “You can’t blame that on me completely. She made her choice.” There’s real hurt in Lucas’s voice, and I can’t stop myself from turning my head to stare at him.

  “Back to the reason you brought this girl here. Her mate.” She hits the t hard and takes my hand with her own, her fingers heavily decorated with rings. “Come with me and let me feel the depth of this curse.”

  “I’ll just…show myself to the kitchen, then,” Lucas says. “I’m assuming you still have wine?”

  She smirks. “We always have wine. No sampling my coven, Blackthorne. I promised Natalie I wouldn’t kill you. I never said anything about ripping your fangs out of your skull.”

  He chuckles and walks away, leaving me with this witch who is slightly scary. His polished shoes echo on the stone floor with every step.

  “You really took our strength?” I ask as she leads me in the opposite direction from Lucas.

  “Oh, yes. It won’t last outside of these walls, but it’s something.”

  “Are they all after you? The vampires?”

  She chuckles, then waves a hand and whispers in what sounds like the same language Thea used to curse us. I step back, but she holds my hand in a vise grip. “No, no, little vampire. You’re not going anywhere until we see just what Thea did. The Blackthorne vampires saved us once. We owe them.”

  “How did they save you?”

  A laugh rolls through her. “Oh, I’m not going to share all our secrets with you in one night.”

  We walk into a parlor furnished with chairs and couches of all styles and colors. It reminds me of an antique shop in my little hometown. Lots of different fabrics and patterns. But somehow, it all fits.

  “Now, sit and let me see what this curse is all about.”

  I settle on the chair nearest me and immediately regret my choice. Invisible chains wrap around my arms and legs, holding me in place.

  “What did you do?” My voice is tight with panic. “Lucas!”

  She tuts and smiles. “He can’t help you right now. And he won’t.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” I struggle against the hold of the spell she’s woven around me, but nothing is going to break it except her.

  “Come on now, sisters. She’s ready. I don’t have all night.” Amaya’s voice holds a hint of annoyance.

  Five women in robes similar to Amaya’s but all different shades file into the room and stand in front of me. Each of them beautiful in their own ways, the women are all ethnicities, all shapes, all sensual and mesmerizing.

  “Where is Thea?” one of them asks, her question filled with worry.

  “I think she’s hiding from what she did.” Amaya looks at me, and for the first time, I see a hint of pity in her eyes. “Hold out your hand, girl.”

  “My name is Claire.”

  “That’s nice. Hand.”

  I open my mouth to protest because of the spell keeping my limbs immobile, but when I try to offer my palm, there’s nothing stopping me. My arm is free. Amaya takes my hand while the other witches gather around me in a circle, all chanting softly in unison. Blinding pain splits my skull, and the same sickly green light from Thea’s curse fills my vision before it dissipates.

  “Dark magic,” Amaya says. “I can’t believe she went there. That’s…it’s forbidden.”

  “She’ll be excommunicated,” the woman on my left says.

  “She will. Avery already called. Word has spread that there’s a witch using dark magic. If even she has gotten word, it’s already too late.”

  Their expressions crumble into despair. Amaya continues, “There’s nothing we can do, and nothing we should do. Darkness is not something we can ever let into our coven again. It nearly ended us last time. We have to pull this curse from Claire and make it right. Restore balance.”

  “How do you…pull a curse?” I ask, hoping it’s easy, like pulling a thread.

  “Close your eyes. This won’t be pretty.”

  Even through my closed lids, I see light. The witches around me raise their voices in unison, chanting together, filling the air with a hum so loud it hurts my ears. My heart hammers, and the adrenaline is ma
king me desperate for freedom from this chair, from this curse, from all of it.

  It’s then the pain begins. At first it’s a nagging itch in my head, but that quickly turns into fire. I scream, thrashing about as much as I can, and my toes curl in effort to get me on my feet and away from this place. I whisper, “Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.” But they don’t stop. They push harder.

  “It isn’t working, Amaya,” one of the women says, her voice disembodied and muffled through the splitting agony in my brain.

  Then, nothing. The pain is gone, the chains are gone, and I open my eyes to six shocked faces.

  “You have witch blood. Your body is fighting us.”

  I cock a brow. “What?”

  “You heard me.” Amaya grips my wrist and slashes across it with a dagger. My skin sizzles and I wince, but don’t cry out. Dark blood wells to the surface as she holds her palm above the wound. From my open skin comes a purple mist, curling up to meet her fingers and twine around them. “Witch. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

  “Well, I did kill Thea’s son. Did that do it?”

  Her gaze holds mine with such annoyance, I wonder if she’s going to slap me. “No. His magic died with him. This is something you were born with.”

  “A vampire witch. That’s dangerous,” the witch directly behind Amaya whispers.

  “No. She’s an asset. A big one.” Amaya murmurs something, and the glow intensifies, mixed with the blue of her own magic. Then she brandishes the blade again and presses it gently to the slash in my wrist. The color moves up from the tip to the hilt, then disappears. When she moves her palm away from my arm, I’m surprised to see I’m still bleeding freely. “Tessa, get the first aid kit, will you?”

  “Why isn’t it healing?” I ask.

  “Well, enchanting a dagger takes a sacrifice. You’ll have a scar. Sorry about that.”

  “You…enchanted it?”

  “How else are we going to get this curse taken care of?” She turns the blade and offers it to me, hilt first. “You’ll know what you have to do. Your magic has been awakened. It’ll speak to you when it’s time to use this.”

  My hand shakes as I close my fingers around the leather wrapped hilt. It’s hot, thrumming, almost…alive.