Blood Struck (15 page)

We stared at each other in silence, tension bristling between us, until with a sigh I nodded. I didn’t want to fight about it either not when I couldn’t even make the decision to become a vampire for myself.

Kristos smiled at me, half in apology, half in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Did a package arrive today?”

I shook my head.”Not that I know of.”

Kristos went to the front door and opened it to reveal a brown box on the welcome mat.

Its appearance irritated me. “So you can give out our location but I can’t call my mom? What’s that about?” I crossed my arms and glared at him, suddenly angry with him again.

“Experience. I know what I’m doing.” Kristos said, his voice flat. He took the box into the kitchen and opened it using his super fang strength to rip through the packaging tape.

I wanted to argue with him further, but what he pulled from the box rendered me speechless. It was a gleaming silver dagger about as long as my forearm with a very sharp point on the end. “What is that?”

“The weapon I promised you.” He handed me the dagger, hilt first, and rummaged in the box until he found a sheath and a silver flask.

I waved the dagger in the air finding it lighter than I expected. The blade was not flat, but slightly rounded as if it there was something inside. Finding a small button on top of the hilt, I pushed it and gasped when a series of small holes appeared at the end of the blade, just behind the tip. “What the hell?” I gaped at the holes, confused. “You gave me a hollow knife?” I glared at him.

Kristos found my reaction amusing and smiled. Holding up the flask he said, “It’s hollow to hold this.”

My eyes narrowed. “This being?”

“Holy water. It’s like acid to vampires. It won’t kill us, but it will render us harmless for a time.”  He pointed to his eye. “I suggest stabbing your victim through here and melting their brain with the holy water. Even the undead need a central nervous system and if you destroy that, they won’t be able to move until it regenerates.”

I made a face. “That’s disgusting.”

“But effective.” He handed me the sheath. “This will fit around your calf under your clothes or around your thigh over your pants.”

I took the sheath and strapped it around my thigh. Putting the dagger inside, I walked around the living room to test it out.  “How do I carry the flask?” The sheath would only hold the knife.

Kristos hooked a finger in the belt loop of my waistband and pulled me close. One hand went down to cup my ass, while the other tucked the flask down my jeans at the small of my back.  Then he took the dagger and showed me how to unscrew the top. “You fill it in here.” He handed me the two pieces. “You put it back together. It’s your weapon, you should know how to use it.”

I pulled the flask out and filled the dagger as Kristos watched. Once it was reassembled I returned the dagger to its sheath and tucked the flask back against my tailbone.

“If you’re careful, you should be able to get three vampires without refilling. Don’t hold the button down too long or you’ll waste the holy water.”

“You seem to know a lot about killing vampires, Kristos.” To me he was a lover, not a fighter. His colder, more mercenary side always caught me by surprise. It was easier for me to remember the sex and forget the rest.

He shrugged. “We have fought our wars. Vampires can be predatory not just with humans but between themselves.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said dryly.

“Before guns we had weapons like this dagger. Slayers designed it sometime around the Spanish Inquisition and we copied them.”

“You ever use a wooden stake?”

He grimaced. “No. It’s like trying to pierce stone with a toothpick. The stake is overrated by slayers. It takes them years to perfect their aim and build the strength to penetrate the ribcage through to the heart. There are better ways to go about it.”

I shivered. “Such as beheading.” God, I wished I could get Arlo’s death out of my head, but it haunted me like my own personal ghost.

He nodded. “Yes and there are better weapons than a stake.”

“Like a bow and arrow?” I asked.

That made him wince. “Yes. Although I would prefer it if you didn’t go around announcing that. We like the slayers’ antiquated doctrine just the way it is, for everyone’s sakes. If they abandon their traditionalism and modernize their approach to killing vampires, it will be war.”

“I think you should turn me,” I said, changing the subject.

He looked at me with a surprised expression. “What brought this on?”

“I’m not strong enough, Kristos.” I had a weapon now, true, but I still felt exposed and outgunned. Our earlier conversation had given me some food for thought as well. I had been dragging my feet, unsure of what I wanted, but I knew that needed to change.

Kristos wrapped me in his arms. “But I am strong enough for both of us, love. You don’t have to decide now.”

“I feel like I’m running out of time.” I leaned my forehead against his chest, taking comfort in his steady strength.

“After tonight we’ll have all the time in the world.” He kissed the top of my head. “There’s no need to rush anything.”

“Promise?” I asked in small voice. Were there really dates with Kristos in my future that didn’t involve heavy artillery?

“Promise.” He inhaled. “You smell wonderful. Like butter and raspberries.” His grip tightened around me, pushing me into him and allowing me to feel the bulge between his legs.

“I had a lot of toast,” I murmured into his pecs. “With a lot of butter and jam. There was nothing else to eat.” With a pang I recalled the bag of bakery goodies that had been left behind at the previous apartment. They were probably nothing more than charred ash now.

His hands moved down to cup my ass cheeks, grinding my pelvis into his. In response, I pressed my lips against his chest, tasting him. How was it that I wanted him again so soon? He was like an aphrodisiac that ran hot in my blood.

Kristos raised my chin and kissed me as his hands roamed my body.

“Do we have time for this?” I whispered against his mouth.

“A few moments.” He flashed a smile and I felt his lips curve on mine. “Enough to take you to my satisfaction.”

Before I knew it, my jeans were unbuttoned and pulled off along with the flask. My shirt followed and then another pair of panties were sacrificed to passion. He sat me on the kitchen counter and his finger found the sweet spot between my legs as he nuzzled the nape of my neck.

I threw my head back and spread my legs wider to give him ample room. “At this rate I’m going to run out of underwear.”

“Good,” he said sounding satisfied. “I like you with fewer clothes.”

“Me too, but only when we’re alone. Out there,” I waved my hand at the large bay window that faced the street, “I like to wear a clean pair of underwear.”

“You and your panty problems never cease to amaze me.”  His other hand was under my shirt, shoving my bra out of the way and plucking at my nipples in turn, feeding the ache in my belly. “If I had my way, you would be naked all the time for me.”

“No clothes at all?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

“I might bind you in chains of gold. A little clamp here,” he pinched the nub at my core for emphasis, “And another two up here.” Kristos ran his hands across my breasts. “Just to keep your senses on high alert. Then I would tie you up while I slept so you would have nothing else to do but think about me.”

My eyes widened. To my surprise, his words were titillating as opposed to repellant. I shook my head remembering how afraid I’d been of the torture chamber in his apartment. Now I kind of liked the idea of being helpless and left to writhe for him as passion did a slow burn through my erogenous zones. It sounded hot and maybe now I trusted Kristos enough to do something like that. Maybe we could experiment after this current mess had been settled.

“How would the clamps feel?” I asked, curious. “Would they hurt?”

“Enough to keep you on the edge.” To illustrate he gave a nipple a firm pinch, digging into the flesh with his nail.

My breathing hitched and I felt a flood of wetness between my legs.

He caught the reaction and did the same to the other nipple with a wicked smile. “You were a delectable virgin, Myra, but I like your new sense of adventure even more.” With that, he kneeled down and brought his face to the nexus of my core. I had to scoot off the counter so he could reach me, using my hands on the counter’s edge to support myself.

Kristos licked and stroked me until I trembled. When he thrust his tongue deep inside my wet passage, my knees started to buckle and he had to hold me up, pinning me against the counter by my hips. Then he returned to the sensitive nub and worked it over until I keened with the pleasure. The orgasm swelled hot and wet inside me and then burst as he lashed my core with rapid flicks back and forth. I moaned and all strength fled my body until the only thing keeping me upright was Kristos’ hands at my hips.

“How do you do this to me?” I asked. “I can never get enough of you. You’re like a drug.”

“It’s the blood bond,” he said rising to his feet and steadying me with his hands.

I leaned into him, still weak from my climax. “The second you touch me, I want you. Every time.”

“And I you.” He kissed me, sharing the salty flavor of my desire.

“You feel like that too?”

“Oh yes, Myra. I want you too. Any way and every way.” He lifted my shirt over head and dropped it to the floor while I shrugged out of my bra. Then he turned me until I faced the counter, and with gentle insistence bent me over it. “I want you always, even after we’ve just made love. It’s unlike any other binding I’ve experienced.” He nudged my feet apart and pressed on the small of my back  into an expectant arch.

I heard him unzip his pants and then his hard length pressed between my legs. He slowly sank himself into my slick wetness with a guttural groan. I sighed in satisfaction. With Kristos inside me, I felt complete.

At first he set a slow, teasing pace that had me pushing back trying to take more of him faster. He ignored me and forced me to accept his pace, one that reduced me to begging.

“Faster, Kristos. Please.”

“Not yet, love. I want to savor you.”

I wiggled my hips in frustration and his hands grabbed an ass cheek each, giving me a firm squeeze until I stilled. The pleasure rose in shallow eddies as he pumped in and out of me, lacking the stimulation to crest. It felt good, oh so good, but it wasn’t enough. I mewled in frustration.

Kristos ran his hand along my back pushing me down so that my ass rose up even higher for him. My chest had slipped off the counter by then and I hung onto the edge with my hands, head bent down toward the floor. It reminded me of a yoga pose except that had been awkward and this felt so good I wanted it to hurry up and never stop at the same time.

When he stopped and pulled out, I almost cried, but he quickly helped me upright and set me on the counter. With one quick thrust he was inside me again and sucking my nipples, one after the other. His tongue on my breasts was impatient and merciless. He didn’t feed from me, but his teeth scraped my sensitive skin anyway and I gasped at the sensation.

“You like it rough, don’t you, Myra?” he asked with a knowing smile. To prove his point he took my nipple in his mouth, whipped it into a frenzy with his tongue and then bit down none-too-gently.

I yelped and put a hand to his head, threading my fingers through his hair and holding him in place so he wouldn’t stop. The most delicious sensations throbbed in my body. The sweet pleasure of his cock inside me and the tortured bliss of his mouth and teeth on my breasts.

Yes, I liked it rough.

I bucked against him as I spun out of control. He started to slam into me with punishing strokes and I exploded with a scream. He came with me. Kristos wasn’t one to make much noise during sex, but the way he clenched his jaw when he climaxed gave it away. That and he stopped moving inside me.

We shuddered into one another as the aftershocks of our shared pleasure rolled through us and then Kristos slowly moved away, breaking contact. I missed the feel of him against my skin immediately. I wanted to say, ‘let’s do that againb’ but instead I went to my luggage, found another pair of underwear, and got dressed.

Not wanting to wear the dagger where people could see it, I strapped the sheath around my calf and slipped the dagger inside. My tight designer jeans had just enough give in them to cover the whole thing, although you could see the shape of it through the cloth. I hoped the dark indigo blue would camouflage it enough to prevent questions. What I couldn’t figure out was how I would draw the dagger without wrestling with my jeans for five minutes. Having a weapon was progress, but not being able to access it quickly made it moot.

Kristos, ever observant, silently came over with a kitchen knife. Squatting down he hacked a slit just above the sheath and wide enough for my hand to pass through. I winced as he did it, thinking of Jacques, the stylist who’d chosen my clothes back when all I had to worry about was having sex with a vampire.

Kristos returned the knife to its drawer. “Check and see if you can draw like that.”

I pulled the knife out and then put it back in. “Seems fine. Although Jacques will kill me if he finds out.” The stylist would have a fit. He didn’t care if I lived or died, it was all about the clothes with him and I’d just committed an act of fashion blasphemy. He would never forgive me.

“Jacques is the least of your worries, love,” Kristos murmured. He went into the bedroom and emerged a second later wearing a crisp white dress shirt, the black leather duffel bag he used as luggage slung over his shoulder. “Ready to go, love?”

I grabbed the little rolling suitcase one of Kristos’ men had bought for me when we first went into hiding. “I guess. I wish you would tell me the plan.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” came his enigmatic response.

Chapter Thirteen

We left the Brownstone, the air cold enough with impending winter to make my breath fog. Kristos led the way down a few blocks and then over a few more. His rapid gait made it so I had to hustle to keep up with him.