Claimed by the Immortal (The Claiming) (16 page)

Wondering didn’t change it, however, nor did thinking about it answer the question. Probably a combination of both, he decided.

He was having trouble keeping his focus, though. Having Caro so tightly wound around him was delightful, and although the wind spared him her mesmerizing scents, he picked up a faint whiff every time they stopped. Her blood, her delicious blood, surely the finest of champagnes. Her desire, waves that always seemed to be there, sometimes ebbing but never gone.

The Hunger in him, also never gone, tried to rise and dictate his actions. It wanted him to lay her down on one of those icy building roofs and take her thoroughly and completely, entering her and drinking from her at the same time.

The woman was going to drive him mad.

For centuries he hadn’t really thought about it. Certainly not when he’d lived in Persia and tempting delicacies had come to him willingly, making offerings of themselves. He’d made a kind of peace with the changing times and had learned to find his quarry in ways that harmed no one.

But he’d never really thought about the deep grip of the Hunger on him. How it affected him. How it could cloud his thinking. How it could dominate him.

Mainly because there’d never been a reason before. Now there was, and that reason was Caro. Simply Caro. He thought he’d tested the dimensions of his Hunger before, but he was learning he hadn’t even come close.

Those dimensions were dangerous. Not just because of the possibility of claiming. After all these centuries he had begun to believe that he was immune to that problem, although Caro made him wonder.

No, the danger resided in distraction and inattention. He had to focus on the threat, not on his Hunger for Caro. He didn’t need his instincts clamoring for satisfaction when it might cost her her life. He’d never forgive himself if something went wrong because he failed to control the constant, hammering, throbbing, demanding need he felt for her.

But the Hunger wasn’t entirely amenable to control. He could no more entirely quash it than he could prevent the sleep of death. It was as essential to his existence as food was to any being, and it would not be denied for long.

He could drink gallons of that rotgut Jude purchased from a blood bank, and it would only briefly ease his nature’s demands. Caro roused those demands to heights he couldn’t remember ever having experienced except as a newborn. He wanted her. He wanted her in every way a vampire desired prey, in every way a vampire desired a lover.

Cut it out,
he ordered himself as he leaped to a new rooftop. This was not the time. He had Caro’s life to consider.

Wrong time or not, however, with her wrapped around him it was impossible to fully suppress his yearning. So close and yet so far.

It was almost a relief to reach their destination so he could put her down, put even a few inches between them. He was careful to stand upwind so he wouldn’t get a noseful of her enticing scents. Oh, he could still smell her, but at least it wasn’t hitting him full-force in the face.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he watched her rub her cheeks.

“No, I’m not okay,” she said querulously. “How many more places do we have to visit to hear exactly the same thing, which is nothing?”

He wondered what had made her so irritable. Then he smelled it, sweet and enticing, and knew the ride had been as much torment for her as for him.

He couldn’t quite hide a satisfied smile. Ungenerous perhaps, but there was something good about knowing he wasn’t alone in his torment. Perhaps he could do something about that, for her anyway. Later.

For now he stepped to the side so that her alluring scents didn’t reach him as strongly.

An image flashed across his mind’s eye, an image of her naked and writhing beneath him, begging him to take her and drink.

He sighed.

“I’m going to do this differently,” he told her. “You reach out with your senses and see what you can detect. I’ll do the same. Talking to people seems to be getting us nowhere.”

“I’ll second that. Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”

He watched her close her eyes and almost smiled again as he saw her stiffen with effort. “Just relax,” he said. “Sometimes trying too hard just blocks it all.”

She obeyed him, relaxing herself in stages until she looked more comfortable.

As soon as he was sure she wasn’t trying to force herself, he stretched out his own hand. No one on the street would see it, but he was still surprised that Caro had been able to. The hum of power, so long unused, felt wonderful. His fingertips tingled and sparkled with energy, and little blue streamers of electricity arced between them.

Let it build,
he told himself.
Just let it build.
It had been so long, and he had missed it so much.

It grew until he felt it humming up his arm, then into his entire body. He felt alive with the power and wondered why he had abandoned it so long ago. Times had changed, forcing him to be far more discreet and cautious than in his temple days, but maybe he had sacrificed too much to caution. Way too much.

He watched his hand begin to glow blue with the power, a glow that was probably starting to surround him from head to foot. So much power, but it had to be directed.

He thought of the threat, reached out to sense it hovering nearby. When he found it, he extended his power outward toward its source or summoner.

As soon as he touched on it, it snapped back, but as it instantly dissipated, he caught a general direction. It wasn’t as good as an address, but at least he knew which parts of the city he didn’t need to check out.

Unless, of course, the bokor moved.

He let the power seep away, then waited for Caro’s reactions. When she opened her eyes, they seemed darker than usual. “I felt it,” she said. “But then it snapped away. You?”

“Me, too.”

She turned slowly and pointed to the west. “That direction.”

“That’s what I got, too.”

“Then let’s go.”

He reached out to grip her arm. “Wait.”

“Wait?” Her irritation was unmistakable. “Wait for what? I’m tired of this thing stalking me. I’m tired of never feeling alone even when I’m in an empty room. I’m tired of wondering if it will somehow slip by you or other witnesses and do the deed anyway. And I’m worried that it might go after someone else, too. Like Pritchett’s brother-in-law. That thing is murderous and it has to be stopped.”

“I absolutely agree.”

“Then what are you dragging your heels for?”

“Are you ready to face a bokor?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been looking for?”

He shook his head slightly. “We’ve been looking for information. I’m not ready for a confrontation with a bokor and neither are you.”

“But you made that thing snap back.”

“For now. The bokor will know it. Now he has a measure of my power and yours. That doesn’t work to our advantage unless we prepare.”

“Why not?” She sounded impatient. “If we wait, we give him more time to prepare, too. Maybe come up with a stronger force or more of them.”

“That’s possible. Possible but unlikely.”

“You’d better explain.”

“Let’s go back to your place. Your lips are turning blue. Then we’ll talk.”

She grumbled a bit, but she allowed him to carry her home. Such sweet torture.

Once inside her apartment, he waited for her to wash up and change and get herself a hot drink. Then he made another protective circle around them so they could sit in her living room and talk.

“So explain to me how we gained any advantage by not going after the guy right now.”

He liked the feisty set of her jaw, and the way her gray eyes snapped at him. He tried to remember the last time any woman had ever stood up to him this way, and he couldn’t. Times had changed indeed, but even so Caro was a force to be reckoned with.

“He’ll know his elemental was detected and deflected, but that’s all he knows. That could have happened in a number of ways. By not following, we leave him to think it may have been purely accidental.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“We still have to prepare. Caro, there are simply some battles you can’t wade into without adequate preparation, and magic is one of them.”

“What kind of preparation?”

He put his hand over his mouth. He didn’t want her to see the smile twitch his lips as he anticipated her explosion. Because she was going to erupt.

Then he wondered why he was even considering mentioning it. She would definitely erupt, with some justification because his proposal was going to seem so out of line to her, and then where would they be? Worse off than right now.

“Damien? Just get on with it. What kind of preparation?”

He picked his words with care, feeling as if he were tiptoeing between rays of sunlight, which for him were the equivalent of mines. “In my tradition...”

“In your tradition what?”

“In my tradition we practiced certain rituals to enhance the power of the mage. Rituals of great focus, power and intensity.”

“And they were?”

“Sex.”

Her mouth hung open. She shook her head a little. The expected eruption didn’t happen. Instead she almost squeaked, “Sex? A ritual?”

“Very much so. Can you think of anything that embodies the life force any better?”

Her mouth closed, then opened again. “Life force. But you’re
dead!
”

“Not exactly,” he reminded her. “Undead, not dead. I straddle two worlds, which makes me more powerful. But I can still focus the life force. And so can you.”

“Sex,” she repeated. Then the eruption came, clearly because she didn’t like the
way
he was proposing this. A seduction was one thing, but a ritual? It must sound like an excuse to her. “What is this? Some new kind of pass to get into my pants? Are you that desperate?”

“I’m desperate all right,” he admitted frankly, “but not enough to lie to you. What I’m telling you is true. Lots of people believe in the strengthening powers of sex, that it unleashes the hidden powers in all of us, however temporarily. If you know what you’re doing, the powers aren’t temporary.”

“And I suppose you know what you’re doing,” she said acidly.

“Of course. I was a temple priest.”

Again her mouth opened and closed. While this was nowhere near as bad as he’d anticipated, he expected more. This wasn’t her culture’s way of looking at sex. In fact, there was hardly a group on the planet more prudish than her culture, although there were probably some.
The Brits,
he thought with a flicker of humor. All that Calvinism and Puritanism had found a great home here.

“Sex,” he said when she offered nothing more, “is a joyous celebration of life. Properly practiced, it’s purely good.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m a police officer. I’ve seen it used in a very different way too often.”

“I’m sure you have. There are always abusers of gifts. People who use them as weapons. Like the bokor we seek.”

She sighed. “Point taken. So what do you expect me to do? Get naked with you on the floor?”

He bridled a moment, then reminded himself this concept was utterly alien to her. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you, but to explain a ritual. The occasion requires considerably more ceremony and thought than that. It requires a certain amount of devotion.”

“Devotion sounds good,” she admitted. “Let me think about it.”

He could only wonder at her thoughts because she didn’t share them. Not that he had expected instant capitulation. While he could see, smell and nearly taste her desire for him, she probably wanted something a little more romantic, or a little more spontaneous.

He suspected the whole of idea of making love as a ritual was what was setting her back on her heels. It did sound a bit clinical if you weren’t used to the idea.

Her gaze tracked back to him and it was now suspicious. “Did you just make this up?”

“Absolutely not.”

She shook her head a little. “I don’t know about this. It sounds so cold.”

“It’s anything but.” Yet he could understand her feelings. Most women preferred to be wooed.

“What exactly would be involved?”

“I’d make love to you and try to bring us both to the highest pitch of completion possible.”

He saw her eyes darken, smelled the scents of her desire. His own arose in response, and he knew he was halfway there.

“What else?” she asked.

Now came the part he was sure was going to upset her. But there was no way around it.

“I’m a vampire,” he reminded her. “My predatory instincts must not be wakened.”

“So...I’d have to hold still?” She looked as if that didn’t exactly please her.

“More than that,” he admitted frankly. “I’d have to tie you up.”

Chapter 10

T
ie her up?
The words caused a windstorm of reactions in her, ranging from anger at the mere thought of being constrained to an amazingly powerful shiver of longing.

She closed her eyes, knowing she couldn’t conceal her scents from Damien but hoping she could keep her eyes and expressions from giving away more.

“I could tie you up,” she pointed out tensely.

“You could. But there are two problems.”

“And those are?”

“You don’t know the ritual, and if I become predatory, there are few bonds that could hold me.”

“Lovely.” Sarcasm dripped from the word.

But she wondered what her real resistance was. She couldn’t deny the way her body had clenched at the thought of being tied up and loved by him. Never had she suspected she might have a hankering to be bound like some kind of sexual conquest. Undeniably, however, the urge was there. At least with Damien.

Now that the image had been planted, she couldn’t escape it. Instead, her mind wandered around the notion of being both helpless and exposed while he loved her in whatever way he chose. Another pulse of desire tightened her core, making her ache so hard.

She knew where he could take her even fully clothed. She had been longing for more ever since. What was she afraid of?

Being helpless? Of course. She hated being helpless. Even as her libido responded powerfully, some part of her resisted. Why?

Because she suddenly felt incredibly and uncharacteristically shy. The notion of helplessness and being fully exposed made her feel like an inexperienced schoolgirl who had never before been touched, who had never before been naked with a man in even the smallest way.

“You have to take charge?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“And I’m supposed to just let you tie me up and use me in whatever way you choose?”

“I would be a tender lover,
Schatz.
The point of this is pleasure, not humiliation or bad feelings. That would subvert the ritual.”

Her eyes snapped open. “I’d feel a whole lot better about this if I thought you gave a damn about me.”

He appeared astonished, which gave her a small measure of satisfaction. “I don’t call anyone else
Schatz.
”

“What’s that mean, anyway?”

“Treasure.”

Oh, man, he knew exactly how to slip past her defenses.
Treasure?
That word hit her right in the heart like a warm dart. She bit her lip. “I need to think about this, Damien. It’s not like we ever really made love before. You’re asking a lot.”

“I know. But I could, right this instant, come to you and love you in all the ways I want, ways that you want, too.”

“As long as I don’t move.”

He nodded. “It’s not that I fear hurting you. I fear forgetting myself and drinking from you at the same time.”

“So I’m still just a food group?”

“You’re far more than that or I wouldn’t even suggest this. Would it make you feel better if I come to you first as an ordinary lover?”

Would it?
She didn’t know anymore. How could she when she’d had such an unexpectedly strong response to the idea of being bound by him? “Will it affect the power of the ritual?”

“It might,” he said slowly, almost reluctantly. “These rituals are usually performed by two people who have never been together before.”

“And that enhances the power for both of us? Or just for one of us?”

He shook his head a little. “
Schatz,
I can’t be certain. My experience in this was always with women who had no powers. You have powers yourself. Why should they not be enhanced for you as they will be for me?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it.” Her voice had grown tart again, tasting almost sour on her own tongue. “I’ve got to think about this, Damien. I feel like I just got sideswiped. And I need to know more.”

“I understand. Perhaps you should do some research on this. But I offer you one warning.”

“What’s that?”

“Your culture tries to make things like this sound bad. Don’t take their word for it. I know from experience just how empowering this would be.”

“In other words, just take
your
word for it.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Yes. I wish you would.”

“Do we need anything for this ritual?”

“I need to find a few things, yes. The bonds must not hurt you. I need to dress you in such a way that you feel comfortable with every step.”

“You need to dress me? Why?”

“Because trying to do this with you in your usual garb would be impossible. A robe. I need a robe for you. And for me. And silken bonds.”

“I have no idea where to find those.” Although in truth she did. Being a cop had taken her to some interesting places. She just wasn’t sure she wanted to shop in them. “I still need to think about this.”

“Of course. I can go out and gather the items we need while you do research at Jude’s if you like. Or we can gather them whenever you are ready. It’s up to you.”

Up to her.
That was the damnable part. As much as her body was shrieking yes to the whole idea, her brain was turning traitor and wishing it had no decision to make at all.

Utterly unlike her, she told herself scornfully. Then she wondered if she had ever really known herself. Because here she was, wanting to be tied up by a vampire.

Oh, that really made sense, didn’t it.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes and wished away the edgy nervousness that had filled her ever since he’d brought this up. It was what she had been wanting since she’d met him, wasn’t it? To find out what it would be like to make love with him?

And the little experiences they’d had together had already shown her that he could take her places she had never imagined existed. So why was she being difficult? Why was she fighting what she had wanted?

Simply because he called it a
ritual?

What was wrong with that? she asked herself. She’d had a few boyfriends in her time, and sooner or later the sex had become almost ritualistic anyway. The same things, the same way, every time. Once, she’d tried to change that and had lost a boyfriend, who felt she was insulting his skills as a lover.

“What steps are involved?” she asked, hearing a thickening in her own voice, undoubtedly another response to the fires he had stirred in her. She wished she thought he couldn’t hear it, but what the hell. Every time she got wet for him, he knew it. Heck, every time she felt the least arousal he smelled it. She had no secrets. He probably knew exactly how strong her response had been to the idea of having him tie her up. At least so far he had respected her wishes even when they were in conflict with the hormonal flags she must be wearing.

Life used to be so much easier. Having secrets could be a good thing, but it had been stripped from her by a vampire’s knowing nose. Damn it.

“I prepare the space,” he said quietly. “Candles, incense, no distractions. We must be totally focused on one another.”

She couldn’t imagine that that would be a problem.

“We take a ritual bath. It should be together, but we can do it separately if you like. We must cleanse ourselves.”

“Okay.” She envisioned them standing naked in her shower together. No way could the tub hold them both at once.

“Once we are clean of all the lingering detritus of the world, we go to the chamber. There I will make love to you with every bit of skill and power and caring I possess, transporting us to ecstasy, to a place that can be reached no other way. Our gifts will join as our bodies join. And afterward, I shall hold you until the sun makes me go.”

That didn’t sound too bad, she thought. In fact it sounded rather delightful. “Is there a time length or anything?”

He smiled faintly. “If it doesn’t take several hours, then I haven’t loved you properly. Each gift must be cherished, every instant enjoyed.”

Oh, wow.
From past experience, she would have thought an hour tops. How could he spend so long loving her?

She realized then that she very much wanted to find out.

“Okay,” she said.

“Tomorrow night,” he answered. “I need to get some things. Let me take you to Jude’s so you’ll be safe while I go out.”

She looked around her small apartment, sensing that just beyond the circle he had created that thing was hovering again. “It can’t hear us?”

“The elemental? Not within this circle. And the wards Jude put here should keep it under control.”

“I can back out at any time?”

“If you wish. Of course you can. You may be bound, but this must not involve force of any kind.”

Maybe she could live with that. If she had to agree to everything...

The thought was interrupted by an unexpected surge of wildness in her, as if she were ready to jump off a cliff to see if she could fly. Cautious, ordinary, sensible Caro vanished as another part of her nature emerged. As a cop she often took risks, but they were part of the job, and she always tried to manage them as carefully as she could.

This was a different kind of risk, and she thirsted for it. Like the thoughts she had once talked herself out of about trying a fire walk at one of those self-improvement seminars. She sensed, though she could not be sure, that on the other side of this would lie freedom. Freedom from what, she didn’t know. She just felt a sudden certainty that she would be tossing aside shackles she hadn’t realized she wore.

“Let’s go,” she said. She still had another day to change her mind, after all.

* * *

It was a day that proved excruciatingly long. Damien had returned with large parcels in the early hours, then had excused himself to go sleep.

Caro wondered what was in those parcels, but they were in the inner office with him, and she simply did not want to open the door and risk any possibility that he might inadvertently receive some exposure to light. She didn’t entirely trust that blackout curtain.

She tried sleeping on the cot in the room just off the front office, then tried again on the couch. The night ahead loomed before her, alternately filling her with anxiety and eagerness for the passion he had promised.

She was a mess. She
had
to sleep, to be ready for the night’s mysteries, for they would certainly be mysteries, beginning with the fact that she had never really made love to Damien, and ending with the fact that she honestly had no idea what to expect.

This approach to sex struck her as artificial, yet she had indeed checked online and discovered just how old and widespread was the belief that sex could unleash powers, sometimes just naturally, but often as part of organized ritual.

God, she felt like a virgin on her wedding day, with absolutely no idea of what was to come. Knowing the basics wasn’t enough. Damien had thrown a lot of other things into the hopper with his talk of rituals, bindings, increasing power...a whole bunch of mysteries and things to get edgy about.

Things she had never done before, things she had never considered before, all of them looming. It was no help to remind herself that he’d said she could back out at any time.

Chloe was busy at the computer, and busy being her watchdog. That felt silly, too. She’d pushed the thing away herself, hadn’t she? So maybe she had little to fear from it.

Regardless, she was going stir-crazy, locked up like this under constant watch, and sleep was so elusive she wanted to scream. She needed to be in top form for tonight, whatever it held.

And she
did
want tonight, she finally admitted to herself. She’d been wanting it one way or another almost from the instant she had set eyes on Damien. She couldn’t remember the last time simply looking at a man had aroused her, and she couldn’t be anywhere near Damien without her thoughts turning to the sexual.

So tonight she would find out if it was as good as her body wanted it to be. The more she thought about it, the more she even liked the idea of being bound, of giving up all responsibility. There was something enchanting in that notion, the notion of just experiencing without having to do a damn thing except enjoy it.

Heat pooled between her thighs. She had never had a purely selfless lover, one who would take his own pleasure from hers. Not that she had ever expected one. Sex should be a shared giving and taking. But suddenly she was being offered something she had never imagined: a lover who would expect nothing from her but her own pleasure.

Wow.

A smile came to her face, just a small one, and her internal struggle settled down. This was an experience she simply could not pass up. No way.

With that, drowsiness claimed her, carrying her away into dreams of a candlelit room where a vampire hovered over her, learning her most intimate secrets with his hands and then his mouth.

* * *

Unfortunately, she didn’t stay asleep. Maybe an hour before darkfall, she woke suddenly. Not even a lingering bit of drowsiness slowed her down. She sat up, hearing running water, and realized Chloe had gone to take a shower.

She wondered if everyone knew what was going to happen tonight and therefore expected some big deal, or if Chloe had just thought Caro was safe within the shield of wards and could take a moment to freshen up.

Either way, Caro seized the opportunity. She had to get out for a walk. She wasn’t used to all this confinement. She was used to being out and about most of the time, whether in a patrol car or just strolling the streets and window-shopping. Inactivity didn’t suit her at all.

Grabbing her jacket and zipping it up tight, she left a note saying she was going for dinner. Then she headed out for the late afternoon streets. As soon as she stepped out of the office, the feeling of being watched returned, but she reminded herself that there were plenty of people out and about on the street, and it still wasn’t dark.

The icy air nipped her cheeks. The remnants of the last snowfall had ceased to sparkle, having melted a bit and picked up the city’s grime, but there were still places where the lowering sun struck and turned it golden in stark contrast to the bluer shadows.

It was a beautiful late afternoon, with twilight just around the corner and calm, still air. It was so rare among the buildings to have no breeze at all that she noticed the quietude of the air.