The shocking double penetration snapped her head back. She howled, feeling Morgan hammering into her cunt as Garret plunged that wicked finger in and out of her backside. The double penetration made Morgan’s thick shaft feel even bigger.
Her third climax of the night surged out of nowhere, a dizzying firestorm that was, if anything, brighter than what she’d experienced a few moments before.
Beth twisted, impaled on Morgan’s cock, scarcely noticing when his cousin suddenly released her.
Until, staring blindly into Morgan’s handsome face, she saw Garret move in behind him.
Jerking his cousin’s head back by the hair, he plunged his fangs in Morgan’s muscular throat. Morgan shouted, stiffening. His thick cock bucked inside her and began to pulse as he came.
Garret lifted his head, revealing the bite in his cousin’s strong neck. Blood welled from the double punctures. “Drink from him,” he ordered, his green eyes locking on her face.
Beth hesitated, shocked.
Morgan tangled his fingers in her hair, dragging her face down against the wound. His blood touched her lips, burning and intoxicating, like some alien whiskey. Gingerly, she licked at it, aware that he had stopped thrusting as he held her, his big body shaking. “More!”
With a soft moan, Beth closed her mouth over the wound and began to drink. Morgan jolted against her and started fucking her again -- grinding his cock hard and deep inside her.
Drinking, blazing, she came, barely aware when he stiffened against her with a shout.
* * *
They lay together in a sweaty, tangled pile, limp as dishrags. For the first time in months, Morgan felt almost at peace.
Making love with Beth hadn’t been like their unions with Elena, when the three of them had shared one mind -- each feeling everything the others felt. Every kiss, every caress, every slow silken thrust.
But it had come damn close.
For a moment there when she taken his blood, he thought he could feel her in his mind. There was something bright and almost innocent about her spirit. Elena, as much as he loved her, had been a vampire for a very long time, far too much of it as Ramirez’s thrall. There was plenty of goodness in her, but very little innocence. Her exposure to her master’s evil had left a permanent shadow on her soul.
On the other hand, contact with Beth’s mind felt cleansing, soothing pain he wasn’t even conscious of most of the time.
A breathy little sound drew him from his reverie. He glanced over and found Beth sleeping, her pretty face relaxed and open. She inhaled again in a tiny kitten snore.
He realized he was smiling at her in besotted pleasure. It had been so long since he’d felt anything but guilt and anger, the emotion felt… strange.
What am I doing? The thought shot through his sweet lassitude like a bullet into a balloon. I don’t have the right to feel this way. Not after…
A male fist suddenly punched him in the arm, jolting him out of his spiral into guilt. “Cut it out,” Garret growled. “I’d like to spend five minutes not mind-melded with a suicidal vampire. Just… enjoy it. Or at least shut the fuck up so I can.”
Before he could decide whether to get pissed off, Beth muttered something and rolled over, slinging one slim arm across his chest. She felt deliciously warm as her soft breasts settled against his chest.
With a sigh, Morgan closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep again.
Chapter Six
“Beth.” The voice was soft, feminine, flavored with a trace of Castile. It drew her from the depths of sleep and into the dream.
Opening her eyes, she saw a woman standing beside the bed. The stranger’s eyes were a dark, rich brown, but her skin was as pale as cream. Her face was a delicate oval under a mane of dark, curling hair, with a long, elegant nose and a lushly sensuous mouth. She wore a black gown that looked like something from the Elizabethan age, its bodice and skirts heavily worked with silver embroidery. Its square neckline framed full breasts, while her waist was as narrow as a boy’s.
“You are beautiful,” the stranger said in that musical accent. Her mouth did not move. Moonlight from the French doors poured through her translucent body, giving her a faint glow.
“I was thinking the same about you,” Beth said. “You’re Elena, aren’t you?”
“I was.” The dark eyes were very sad.
“Is this a dream, or are you a ghost?”
Elena tilted her head to the side. “I did not think you skeptical moderns believed in ghosts.”
“My brother-in-law’s sister became a ghost,” Beth told her, sitting up to slip from beneath the covers. “I never met her, but I heard the stories. She fought for years to save Cade from Ridgemont.”
“As I’m trying to save mis angeles.” The ghost moved around the bed, looking down at the sleeping vampires. Sadness darkened those remarkable eyes. She extended a delicate hand toward Garret’s face, but her insubstantial fingers slid into his skin. She winced and turned away. “Even in your dream, I cannot touch them.”
“So I am dreaming?” Glancing at the bed, Beth started. Her body still lay there, stretched out next to the men, sprawled and abandoned in sleep. “I guess so.” Val was right -- visions do seem incredibly real.
The ghost drifted to the other side of the bed to gaze into Morgan’s handsome face, so uncharacteristically unguarded in sleep. “I could not touch your thoughts otherwise. Your Kith mental shields are too strong when you’re awake. But asleep, your barriers drop, especially as the vampire virus begins to take hold.”
Beth frowned. “I wonder why the men can’t see you? Abigail could appear to Val and Cade -- even Ridgemont and his flunky Hirsch.” She hesitated, contemplating the stories she’d heard about the thirteen-year-old girl who’d died as the Civil War ended. “Of course, Abigail was also dead for a couple of decades before even Cade could see her. They assumed it was because he didn’t become a vampire until he was almost forty, but maybe it took her that long to grow strong enough to make him see her. Or maybe she just needed to learn how to communicate with living people.” She shrugged. “Either way.”
The ghost looked intrigued. “But in time, she could speak to him?”
“She could even throw things. Apparently, she had some kind of telekinesis.”
Elena gazed down at the men, longing naked on her face. “To share my thoughts with them again… Especially Morgan.” She sighed. “He fought so hard to save me, but Ramirez injured me too badly. Even with Morgan amplifying my power, Joaquin was too strong for us.”
“Why was Ramirez so obsessed with you, anyway?”
Elena crouched beside the bed to look into Garret’s sleeping face, longing in her gaze. “He was my sire. He abducted me from the convent where I was a novice nun. He raped me, made me a vampire, and enslaved me. It took me more than a century to break his hold, and even then, he swore to get me back.”
“You were Ramirez’s slave for a hundred years? And you’d been a nun? Oh, God, that must have been…”
“Horrific.” The ghost looked up. “He would have killed me for daring to break free. So I took a ship to the New World, hoping if I ran far enough, I would be safe.” Her expression lightened, and she turned a smile on the two men sprawled together in masculine abandon. “But my ship was attacked and boarded by English privateers. I, of course, immediately approached the captain, planning to compel him to release us. When my efforts failed, I realized both he and his first mate were Kith.”
The light dawned. “So you seduced them instead and made them your vampire bodyguards.”
Elena drew a ghostly hand down Morgan’s long, hard muscled body. “I never expected to fall in love with them both. They stayed with me for centuries, long after they could have broken my control. Not that I ever really exerted any.”
“And Ramirez kept hunting you all that time? I’ve heard of obsessive, but…”
“Only for the first century or so. Eventually he gave up and left us in peace.” She sighed and rose to her
ghostly feet. “At least until I encountered him in Europe sixteen months ago. It so happened mis angeles were attending to our businesses elsewhere, and he saw he had a clear path to abduct me. So he did.”
Beth looked away from the pain on her face. If it hadn’t been for Morgan and Garret, she’d have shared Elena’s fate.
A sudden thought made her frown. Did the ghost resent her? After all, Beth shared a bed with her lovers now. “I’m sorry. Sorry about Ramirez and…” She gestured helplessly at her own sleeping, sated body. “This. If it matters, I’m only a means to an end. They don’t really care about me.”
Elena’s lips twitched as though she fought a smile. “I would not be so sure about that. And in truth, I do not begrudge you any love you find with them. I want them to know happiness again. My time in this life is over. I must go to God. But I cannot leave until I know they’re safe.” She turned toward Beth, intent and earnest. “You can save them. From Ramirez. From themselves. If Morgan doesn’t take care, he’s going to destroy them both. Garret will kill himself trying to save him.”
Beth spread her hands. “But I don’t see how I’m --”
Sudden alarm flashed across the ghost’s face, and she held a finger to her lips. “Shhh!”
She turned toward the wall, tensing. “Something is…” Her eyes widened in horror. “Beth! He’s coming!”
“What? Who?”
Then she felt it too. A wave of evil rushed toward them, malevolent and powerful. Beth whirled with a strangled scream of terror to try to wake the men.
Before she could take another step, Ramirez exploded out of the wall like a demon out of hell, his face twisted and savage. She tried to spin away, but he was already on her, sinking his fingers into her as if her skull was made of wet clay.
As Beth screamed in agony, he dragged her around to face him. “Oh, no you don’t, my little slut. I have plans for you!” His eyes blazed red as a demon’s in the darkened room, and his fangs shone white, a good three inches longer than they should have been.
A nightmare. This has to be a nightmare! “Get off me!” Beth grabbed his wrist in both hands and tried to drag his fingers from her skull.
They only sank deeper, digging in like a tiger’s claws as he bared those horrific fangs. “Did you really think you could escape me?”
“Leave her alone!” Elena cried, flinging herself at his back to pound at him. Her ghostly fists passed right through him. Ramirez didn’t even seem aware of her, all his attention focused on his struggling captive.
The ghost floated upward, meeting Beth’s frantic eyes over his shoulder. “It is no good -- I cannot touch him! You must fight him off, or he’ll possess you as he did me!”
“I’m trying -- it’s not doing any good!”
“Who are you talking to, puta?” Ramirez growled as she struggled to tear herself free. He dug his claws in deeper and dragged her inexorably closer to his gaping fangs. “Not that it matters. It’s too late anyway.”
She shrieked as he sank them into her face. Something deep within her ripped like silk.
Beth woke trying to scream.
She was back in bed next to the men. Ramirez was gone. A dream, she thought, relief flooding through her. It was only a dream.
Needing comfort, she tried to roll over and snuggle into Morgan’s side, but her body wouldn’t obey. Instead, she rose from the bed like a robot. Beth frowned, confused, and tried to sit down again, but her body kept moving, heading for the armchair where Morgan had left his sword. What the hell is going on?
“Me.” The accented mental voice was all too familiar. “You’re mine now, little bitch.”
“Ramirez!” She tried to scream it, but she couldn’t move her lips.
“Did you really think Elena’s dogs could keep me away?” Beth could feel his sneer. “I sank my link in you so deeply it was easy to take your mind, particularly in sleep. Now…”
Ice sliding through her veins, she could only watch through her own eyes as her body reached for Morgan’s sword. “No!” She fought to turn away, to shout a warning, but she was firmly under the master vampire’s control.
“Oh, yes. Why do you think I left you there for them to find? I knew they wouldn’t be able to resist you, that you’d spread your thighs for them to save your own life. And once they slept…”
Her hands closed over the hilt of Morgan’s great sword. It felt cold and heavy as she lifted it. Moonlight glinted off the menacing length of its blade as she carried it back to the bed. “You can’t just kill them!”
“Oh, but I can.”
Maybe an appeal to his ego… “What kind of honor is there in murdering sleeping men?”
“These dogs stole my woman from me. They deserve nothing better.” He planted her feet wide apart and began lifting the sword over their heads. His voice rang in her mind, smug with satisfaction. “I wonder if I can take both their heads with a single stroke? Let’s find out.”
“No!” Desperately, Beth tried to reach the men with her mind. “Morgan! Garret! It’s Ramirez! For God’s sake, wake up!” They didn’t even stir. The ghost, maybe the ghost… “Elena! Do something!”
Ramirez sneered in her mind. “Elena is dead, you stupid cow.”
Pop! The bulb in the bedside lamp exploded, showering a tiny rain of glass on the night table.
“What?” Ramirez’s head snapped up in surprise as every lightbulb in the room exploded in a volley.
On the bed, Morgan jerked awake, his black eyes opening, then flaring wide as he saw her standing over him with the sword. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Ramirez swore and lifted the blade, preparing to bring it down and behead both men.
* * *
Morgan threw himself off the bed and grabbed for Beth’s hands before she could decapitate Garret.
Impossibly, she wrenched him airborne and flipped him toward the wall as if he weighed no more than a poker chip. He slammed hard against the wall, Sheetrock cracking around his body as the whole house shook with the impact. Garret woke with a yelled curse.
Morgan hit floor in a crouch as she lunged at him, sword lifted as she spat vile Castilian obscenities. Garret rolled out of bed and grabbed her, jerking her around to face him. “Beth, what the…”
“Cabrón!” She jabbed the sword at his chest, forcing him to leap away.
“It’s Ramirez!” Morgan snarled as he closed on her. “He’s possessed her.” Which he shouldn’t have been able to do with the kind of link he supposedly had -- unless she’d been suckering them all along.
“Sí, she’s mine.” Beth wheeled toward him, blade lifted. Morgan backed warily away, knowing Ramirez’s possession gave her superhuman strength. “She was always my lover. She only pretended to hate me so you fools would take her into your bed.”
Dammit, he’d believed her.
“He’s lying,” Garret said in their link as he slipped behind the girl, getting into position. “He wants to goad us into killing her.”
Knowing he needed to keep Ramirez’s attention focused on himself, Morgan bounced mockingly on the balls of his feet, just out of range of Beth’s blade. With an inhuman snarl, she lunged.
Garret swept out a foot, hooked her ankles and sent her sprawling. Morgan snatched her sword hand as she fell. Twisting ruthlessly, he grabbed the sword and jerked it away. She hit the ground on her hands and knees and snarled up at him. “Maricón! Me cago en tu puta madre!”
The foul words in Ramirez’s hated accent sent fury steaming through him. With a snarl, Morgan lifted the sword. Ramirez laughed and vanished from her chocolate gaze as he tensed to bring it down.
Then it was Beth looking up at him, horror widening dark eyes. She snapped into a ball and flung up her hands to protect her head. “Nooo!”
“Morgan, Ramirez is gone!” Garret snapped. “Back off!”
He hesitated a split second, his gaze locked on her as she huddled pitifully. His instinct was to spare her, but he no longer trusted his instincts. “What if she i
s working with him?”
“No!” she gasped, lifting her head. “He was lying! I didn’t!” The terror on her face stabbed pain into his chest. Just hours ago, he’d watched pleasure fill those glorious eyes as he rode her.
With a disgusted mutter, Morgan threw the sword aside. Spinning on his heels, he stalked to the balcony doors, banged them open, and barged through, cursing himself, Ramirez and Beth equally.
Ramirez had ruined everything yet again.
Chapter Seven
Beth looked up at Garret, eyes wide in her pale face. “He almost killed me! Even after Ramirez left, he almost killed me.”
Garret sighed. “Morgan couldn’t have hurt you even if you had been working with that bastard. He’s not capable of killing a woman in cold blood. Why do you think I didn’t jump him?”
If anything, she looked even more spooked, as if she was wondering about his trustworthiness too.
Shit, I’m going to have to start all over with both of them. Sighing, Garret reached down, intending to help her up. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Beth frowned at his hand warily before accepting it and letting him pull her to her feet.
She was shaking. With a sigh, he led her to the bed before her knees gave altogether. “Nobody’s going to hurt you, poppet,” he told her as she sat down. “Just tell the story.”
Still, she hesitated, studying his face before she finally began.
It was soon obvious why she’d been so reluctant. Garret was staring at her in doubt and astonishment before her story was half done.
“You dreamed about Elena?” Morgan asked from the doorway.
Beth met his stare with a trace of defiance. “Actually, I think it was her ghost. And it was more than just a dream. She was here. Maybe she still is.”
“No, you were dreaming -- Elena’s no ghost.” The words were flat and emotionless, but Garret could feel Morgan’s pain. “She went to heaven.” His clipped tone left no room for argument.
But Beth had more guts than Garret had given her credit for. “Look at the lamps, Morgan. Hell, look at every lightbulb in the room.”
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