Blood Struck (11 page)

Reading my body like Braille, his hand drifted to the cleft between my legs. Eager, I spread wide for him and his fingers teased the sensitive bud there. Despite the multiple on-command orgasms, I still wanted more. My appetite for him ravaged me like wildfire.

Switching breasts, he did the same on the other side. The orgasms shuddered through me, wringing the moisture out of my body. Sweat broke out on my upper lip and my skin became hot and damp. A seeping wetness pooled at my center and his fingers dipped in and out of it, stoking the heat to a fever pitch. With his hand where it was, my pleasure stretched out for impossibly long plateaus.

He watched my face as he fed. My focus was in and out, like flickering lights in a thunderstorm, but I saw the way his mouth kneaded my breast and how his throat moved as he swallowed my blood.

After he’d fed from both breasts, he left the bed to remove his clothes, revealing a sculpted physique that would have made Michelangelo swoon. Then he parted my legs and his hard length pressed against my wet entrance. My hips thrust up, wanting all of him already.

That made him smile and go all the slower, teasing me. I whimpered and reached for him, trying to pull him in, but he danced away from my grasp. He claimed me inch by tortuous inch, a pace that left my core desperate to be filled. When he finally sank all the way inside me, I groaned with satisfaction.

“How many times do you want to come?” he asked.

“It’s up to you.” With a finger, I caught a drop of blood from my breast and pressed it against his lips, giving myself to him completely. He sucked my finger into his mouth, fangs scraping over my knuckle.

Releasing my finger, he said, “Come.”

I arched, gasping as the wave rushed me, pebbling my nipples as it went. Before I’d returned to earth, while I was still swept away, he had me come again. Then again.

It seemed as if my body’s capacity for pleasure was endless. There was no sense of fatigue or any fading of my response. I came for him every time like it was the first orgasm. The heaviness in my limbs, though, and the way they shook when I tried to move belied my fatigue, but I didn’t really feel it. I was too caught up in Kristos’ eyes, his touch and the way he filled me to the point of bursting.

Kristos leaned down and bit my neck when he reached his own climax. Before his fangs slid through my skin as if I was made of water, he paused to whisper, “Come for me, Myra.”

I screamed, my hands digging into his shoulders. The orgasm bucked through me fierce as a wild horse, threatening to trample me into oblivion.

When he finished, he rolled to my side. I remained frozen in place, trembling as aftershocks zapped my system. My mind fought to maintain awareness. All I wanted to do was sink into the soft darkness of sleep, but one simple sound put me on hyper alert.

Someone was knocking on the door. Not our bedroom door, which would not have alarmed me at all as it would have been one of Kristos’ men. No, the knocking came from the front door.

Not only did no one know where we were, they shouldn’t be in the building let alone on our floor without being buzzed in. An adrenaline surge burned away all my lethargy and I bolted out of bed, every muscle taut, my ears straining.

Kristos responded in kind and we both stood in tense silence willing the knock to have been a fluke. It wasn’t. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Whoever was out there knew the apartment was occupied.

This was bullets-are-probably-about-to-fly bad.

Kristos frowned. “Get dressed and stay here until I give the all clear.” He pulled on his pants and snagged his gun from the bedside table.

I didn’t know anything about guns other than his was sleek and black and that I wished I had one. For once, I’d like to be the one doing the shooting. I hated feeling so defenseless.

He left, shutting our bedroom door after him. I got dressed and then cracked the door open which gave me a clear view of the apartment’s entrance. Kristos was peering through the peephole.

I heard a muffled voice speaking from the other side of the door. I was too far away to make out what was said, but Kristos seemed to understand it just fine. Holding the gun behind him and out of sight, he opened the front door.

A tall man with swarthy dark features stepped into the apartment. I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. It was the man from the coffee shop. Shit. I’d been spotted.

The man’s eyes, black as night, scanned the apartment and found me within seconds. He gave a feral smile and beckoned me forward. “Ah, there you are my tesoro. Come out where we can talk, eh?”

His voice carried in the apartment, a baritone with an accent so thick it almost sounded like he was choking on English. I looked to Kristos for guidance and he nodded, his expression one of resignation. Whoever this man was, he was no stranger and no immediate threat given that Kristos hadn’t shot him on sight. I stepped out into the living room, careful to keep my gaze averted. I wasn’t sure yet if this stranger could do to me what Kristos did with his eyes and I didn’t want to find out either.

“You’re up early, Arlo,” Kristos said, his voice carefully neutral.

Arlo waved a languid hand. “I can meet the sun when the situation requires.” He gave me an arch look which I saw in my peripheral vision. “Even go out for coffee and play the human.”

I frowned, angry at myself. I’d been such an idiot to think coffee was worth this risk. It wasn’t.

“How did you find us?” Kristos crossed the room to stand next to me. Instinctively I edged closer to him, almost bumping him with my shoulder. He gave me a warning look and stepped to the side. Stupidly, I realized I’d been blocking his gun hand.

Arlo shrugged. “The council has spies everywhere, but I have more spies than the council.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Council?”

“Ah yes, tesoro. Has Kristos not told you? The council is our governing body. They are quite interested in your progeny here. As am I.” His studied me while I stared fixedly at the carpet. “She’s lovely. Looks like her father.”

“You know my father?” I couldn’t keep the eagerness from my voice. I’d wondered about him all my life and even more so now that who he was had put a blood price on my head.

“He is my maker, tesoro.” Arlo gave a little bow. “We are blood you and I. Brother and sister, albeit in an untraditional way.”

“What are you doing here?” Kristos growled more than spoke.

“The council is interested to know if your progeny will take after her father.  However, I see she has not been turned yet.” I risked a quick glance at Arlo and found him looking at me, speculation shining in his eyes. His gaze was a palpable force and full of power. I quickly focused back on the carpet. I would have to be careful not to be sucked in against my will.

“We’re working on it.” Kristos’ tone was terse.

“You should know some in the council would prefer her as a human. They want to try and breed her.”

My mouth dropped open at that and a sense of horror made my stomach fall. “What?” I couldn’t keep from a shrieking a bit.

Arlo sighed as if finding my alarm tiresome. “You are half vampire yet still mortal. It may be that you can birth others like you. You are a tesoro, a treasure.”

“Why would they want more like me?” Kristos and I exchanged glances. Mine reflected my surprise, his was full of guarded suspicion.

“To make a better vampire, what else?” Arlo smirked. “But the council does not know all your father’s secrets, tesoro. Or else they would not make such a plan.”

I crossed my arms to hide the fact that my hands were shaking. Our conversation had delved into the realm of crazy conspiracy theories...about me. The whole thing freaked me out. “Tell me about my father.” I forgot myself and looked up at him again, but he wasn’t looking at my face.

His eyes were transfixed on my neck. From the heat burning my cheeks, I knew that my heightened emotions had blossomed in a blush from my chest up to my face. It was one of the things that Kristos found most attractive about me. Apparently, Arlo felt the same way.

“You’re quite beautiful,” he murmured. He raised his hand, extending a finger as if to touch me. I was well out of reach, but cringed anyway.

“Tell me,” I said, repeating my question. “Tell me why you’re here. Tell me about my father.” What I really meant was ‘make this go away.’

Arlo strode over to one of the leather armchairs in the small living room. “Very well.” Sitting down, he assumed an upright, almost prim posture. He gestured to the chair across from him inviting us to join him, but neither Kristos nor I moved. “I was the first vampire your father made. I was there when his first child was born.”

“I have a brother or a sister?” I put a hand over my mouth in shock.

Arlo shook his head. “No, tesoro. I killed it. It was unfit for life.” He moved his hands as if twisting a neck. “I killed the others too.”

I stared at his hands, a chill running up my spine. For some reason the stitches in my palm began to itch like crazy, as if responding to his words. I curled my fingers into a fist and dug my nails into the wound, fighting the urge to scratch at it frantically.

“Your father has the reputation of bringing forth life, but what is born is twisted beyond recognition, beyond hope of survival. Your father charged me with doing what must be done.” He clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at them. “For centuries I cleaned up after your father. He always thought the next baby would be different, but they weren’t.” He raised his head, his dark gaze falling on me. “Not until you.”

Feeling the need to sit down then, I sank into a chair across from Arlo.

“It’s evolution,” said Kristos, more to himself than anyone else. He moved to stand next to me.

Arlo raised a shoulder in a half shrug. “Of a kind perhaps. Vampires have always displayed a diverse range of abilities, just like humans.”

Kristos looked at me with wonder. “Myra, you could be something new. The first of a new species. Neither human nor vampire, yet both at the same time.”

I held myself tighter and hid my face from both of them. I didn’t know who or what I was anymore and that scared me. “Where is my father?”

The dark man gave a sad shrug. “I don’t know. I think he might have met the last death. No one’s seen him since before you were born.”

I whirled around to look at Kristos. “Do you know where my father is?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry, love.”

Bowing my head, I asked, “Why are you here then, Arlo? To kill me?”  I peeked at him wanting to see his response.

The dark man shook his head. “You are not twisted and malformed like the others, with stumps for limbs. There is no need to kill you, but every need to protect you. I think Kristos will agree with that. I am only sorry I did not know about you before or I would have been there for you.”

“What do we do now?” I asked Kristos.

He sighed. “You have to decide. If you change, you lose all your human potential.”

I raised my eyebrows, confused. “I thought the deal was I had to become a vampire.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought so too, but now, maybe not. There’s never been someone like you, I’m not sure what the right move is.” He was trying not to show emotion, but I caught a glimpse of happiness as he spoke. For some reason, Kristos liked the idea of me being human. Probably so he could keep feeding from me.

“Arlo?” I barely knew the man, didn’t know if I trusted him, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. He was the only connection to my father I had. Plus he wasn’t fucking or sucking me and was less likely to have a bias. At least I hoped so.

He waved a hand. “You are invaluable either way. It is up to you, tesoro.”

“One thing I do know is we can’t stay here anymore. We’re going to have to move,” Kristos gestured to Arlo. “He found us no problem and you brought an entire brigade down the street with your debit card.”

“Where will we go?”

He shook his head. “I’m not telling. You have a knack for exposing our location.”

I scowled at him, but he didn’t budge. Then the doors to the other bedrooms in the apartment opened all at the same time. Vampires were nothing if not punctual about rising the second the sun set.

They quickly observed that things were not normal and filed into the living room on high alert. Two flanked us on either side while one stood guard at the door and the remaining three fanned out behind us.

Kristos turned to give the two men directly behind him quiet directions and they bowed their heads in unison before going into our bedroom. Probably packing us up in anticipation of the next move.

“I’ll go with you,” Arlo said.

Kristos shook his head. “No. There’s too many of us as it is.”

“But I can help you.”

“If you want to help, lay some fake trails around the city. Keep the council busy chasing its tail. Don’t let them find her.”

Arlo pursed his lips, hands gripping his gloves tightly. He relaxed after a moment and said, “Very well, but I ask one favor in return.”

“What?”

“A taste of her blood.”

Kristos’ face contorted with anger, but his voice remained tight with control. “No.”

Arlo turned his hands palm up in a placating gesture. “I want to be sure she’s Devon’s. You have to understand as long as I’ve lived, there has never been a child like Myra.”

“You think I’m lying?” I asked, outraged. I was so angry I forgot not to look at him and lifted my head, eyes narrowed in an angry glare. “His name was on my birth certificate.”

He nodded. “I’m not saying you’re lying, I’m saying I am afraid to believe in you. I thought you were impossible.” He held out a hand. “Just one drop and we’ll know for sure. You’ll have all my resources behind you, helping to keep you safe.”

I looked at Kristos who shook his head. He didn’t want me to do it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it, but I also wanted to know. There was an outside chance the man on my birth certificate just happened to share the wrong name. The odds were slim, but it could happen. The thought had occurred to me and left me wondering if I was who everyone thought I was.

Maybe this was all a huge mistake.