Dark Slayer (50 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

BOOK: Dark Slayer
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Electricity seemed to arc over their skin, sparks of arousal as she gasped for breath. He was switching back and forth, a man possessed, teeth and tongue and hot mouth driving her senseless. There was nothing in her world but Razvan, his hard body, his male scent of sin and sex filling the air around her, burning in her lungs in place of air.

He lifted his head, small flames burning through the piercing blue of his eyes. “Take my blood, Ivory.
Now
. Right now.”

He lifted her with hard hands, fitting her on his lap, facing him, straddling him, so that she felt the hard length of him, aggressive and hot, against her wet, slick opening. His harsh gasps just drew her further under his spell. She felt mesmerized when he was like this, so desperate for the taste and touch of her. His hands never stopped moving over her skin, claiming every inch of her for his own. She loved the thrill of being his.

She lifted her head to lick over his chest and up to his throat. His stomach rippled. Bunched. His shaft, that terrible, wonderful steel spike, throbbed and pulsed against her thigh, waiting for an opportunity. She licked her lips. Tasted him. His essence. Let him feel what that did to her, deep in her mind—in her body.

Her tongue swirled over his pulse as she nuzzled his warm throat. She loved the masculine feel of him, the heat of him. Her teeth nipped and she moved her body restlessly along his, a tempting enticement, so deep, so primal, she shook with her need. She lifted her face for his kiss, wanting—no—needing his mouth. That glorious mouth that could send her body skittering on the brink of a great precipice, too close to the edge, to that yawning abyss, or send her over, plunging her into a maelstrom of pleasure beyond anything she’d ever dreamt.

Her mouth melted into his. Fused. Welded. So hot. A scorching heat that filled her entire body, turning her fine, white porcelain skin to faint color. She looked up at his face, carved with hard edges, a man’s face, his eyes heavy-lidded, possessive. She kissed him again, drinking him in, letting the rush hit her hard before kissing her way to the corners of his mouth. Licking. Tasting him. Biting with small nips to his chin and back to his lip. Tugging. Teasing. Wanting.

“You might kill us both,” he warned.

She moved her body in a sensuous slide over the hot brand of his very hard erection, rubbing back and forth, trying to draw him inside of her.

His body jerked and he groaned. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back so he could stare into her eyes. “Take my blood now, Ivory.” His voice had gone deep. Harsh. Hungrier. More sensual.

Her heart jumped. Nearly exploded. Her throat constricted. Her tongue already could taste him, that sweet, seductive, erotic taste of him. She felt her saliva form. Her teeth lengthened. She kissed his stubborn jaw, trailed more kisses to the side of his neck where his pulse was warm, alive and inviting. Her teeth grazed his skin.

Razvan sucked in his breath. “
Kućak
—stars, Ivory.” Sweat gleamed on his body. “I do not know if I will make it through this.”

He turned his head and guided her head to his shoulder, to exactly the vein from which he wanted her to take his blood. His eyes drifted closed as he lifted her hips, positioned himself and dropped her over him so she sheathed him completely.

Her craving grew until she couldn’t think of anything but the scent and taste of him. His heartbeat matched hers. Adrenaline rushed through her like a fireball. Her teeth sank deep and he groaned and slammed his body home into hers. He didn’t move, simply filled her, pushing his way through tight, scorching folds to seat himself completely within her.

She drew the first sweet drops of hot blood into her mouth, let it explode over her tongue, her body absorbing the essence of him. His hands caught her head, held her against his shoulder, and he bent his head to her soft, warm neck. His tongue licked along her vein.

Her body exploded around his. Pulsed. Rippled with life. Her heart jumped. Every muscle in her body tightened, squeezing down on him like a velvet vise. He gasped. Licked again. Allowed his teeth to graze her neck. Her response was another orgasm, this one harder than the first.

She gasped, tried to lift her head, but he held the back of it in his palm, all that glorious blue-black hair, and forced her to drink. His teeth pierced her neck, sank deep. She groaned, the sound vibrating through his body and surrounding his erection, stroking him, milking him, bathing him in rich, hot cream.

He drank from her while he drove her to another orgasm. And another. Each time his erection grew thicker. Hotter. Longer. He took his fill while she took hers, her climaxes rocking both of them. When they were both sated, they closed the pinpricks and looked at one another.

Razvan moved first, leaning down to capture her mouth with his, his blood pounding in his veins and his groin so full and hard and aching, he knew one more movement, one slight spasm of her body around his, and he would forget who he was. The moment his lips touched hers, it happened. She clenched the muscles of that exquisite feminine sheath and he groaned, broke the kiss and caught her hips in his hands.

He began moving, driving into her like a piston, his body slamming deep into hers, pulling her down onto his lap as he drove upward. Her breasts bounced against him, the friction sending darting arrows shooting to his groin. Her long hair, brushing his thighs, aroused him even more, so that he used the enormous strength in his legs to drive into her.

Her mouth opened. Her eyes widened. He felt the first ripple, strong—like a quake—ripping through her from breasts to sheath so she clamped down on him, dragging his seed from him. Jet after jet of hot seed poured out until he was drained and empty, her delicious screams echoing around him.

It was Ivory who floated them back to the relative safety of the rejuvenating soil. They lay locked together, arms, legs, his body deep in hers, staring into each other’s eyes. Her smile was slow. Satisfied. A little shocked.

“You never cease to surprise me, Razvan.”

He licked a small droplet of crimson blood from where it had run down unnoticed from neck to breast in their passion. She shuddered in reaction, producing another fresh wave of liquid cream, hot and unbearably sensual as she clamped down again, draining the last remaining drops his body could possibly produce.

“As long as I please you,
fél ku kuuluaak sívam belső
—beloved.”

Reluctantly he loosened his hold on her and allowed her legs to drop from where she had them wrapped around his hips. The movement sent another shuddering pulse through both of them. She rolled over off him and lay with her arms spread out, her body still gasping for air.

“I think you might have killed me. At least my lungs are gone. And I am still having tiny, little, very amazing orgasms. How do you do that?”

He turned his head to give her a cocky grin. “It happens to be my job to keep you satisfied, and I take that task very seriously.”

Her fingers found his. She closed her eyes and just savored him. Being with him. “I want you to know something, Razvan. It is very hard for me to say the things in my heart. It makes me feel silly to say them aloud but you have to know this.”

She opened her eyes, locked her gaze with his and put one hand over her heart. “If things go wrong, and we both know there is every chance they will, this has been the best time of my life. I do not regret one moment with you. You made me feel alive again. You reminded me why I hold my brothers’ memories in my soul. And you gave me such a gift of your heart. I want you to know that gift is treasured. I love you without measure.”

The admission meant all the more because he knew it was truly difficult for her to express intense emotions.

“I love you, too.” That didn’t quite make it, as far as he was concerned. He sent the emotion to her. Intense. All-consuming. Swamped her with it. Drowned her in it. Let her see into his heart and mind and very soul.

“You move me like no other could,” she said and swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She sighed. “We have to feed well. Ourselves and the pack. This is our best chance to destroy the high mage. He will be weakened by what we did last eve.”

“You are certain you want to take on this task.”

She smiled and this time her smile was serene, matching his. “I have not changed my mind, nor would I let you go without me, as you are thinking. You need me if we are going to succeed, just as I need you. We have a better chance together than apart.”

“We cannot lose this night, then,
fél ku kuuluaak sívam belső
—beloved,” Razvan said. “Let us choose our weapons and call the pack. If he escapes us it will be a long while before we—or anyone else—has this opportunity again.”

“He will not escape us,” Ivory said, and there was steel in her voice.

20

F
lakes of snow drifted down as they streamed across the sky away from their home and toward the mountains where Razvan knew Xavier had taken up residence. They had found a small group of human hunters tracking deer through the forest miles from the village nearest to the Carpathian territory and fed well. With the pack sated and everyone at full strength, they immediately began the journey to the glacier mountain where Xavier had gone when his labyrinth of caves had been destroyed months earlier, allowing Razvan to escape.

They traveled through the sky, careful to leave no tracks, but stayed low so they could examine the ground carefully. Once out of the trees near an icy stream, a splash of color caught Ivory’s eyes. The wolves reacted with unease. Ivory and Razvan hovered just above the ground, resuming their physical forms in order to study the tracks.

“There is a blood trail here,” Ivory pointed out unnecessarily. “You can see where the carcass of a deer has been dragged from the shelter of the trees through the snow and toward the mountains. It is not wolves who killed the deer, nor human hunters.” She pointed to the spike marks in the snow. “Bats.”

She stood for a long time just studying it. Razvan said nothing, enjoying watching the huntress in her puzzle out the trail. It was highly unusual for Xavier’s mutated bats to feed any distance from the caves, but this had definitely been a bat attack. The evidence of the creatures walking on their wings was clear in the snow.

“They ambushed the deer here,” she said. She pointed overhead. “Some dropped from above, some came from below, and they obviously surrounded it. The poor thing had no chance.”

He didn’t point out that she hunted with various wolf packs, aiding them in getting through the winter.

Ivory glanced up sharply, her gaze narrowing. “It is not the same thing. They take the blood to their master for evil purposes.”

“That is true,” he agreed. “Why do you read my mind when it just annoys you?”

“It only annoys me when you get that secret little smirk on your face. The male one.” Because he melted her insides with it, and that just wasn’t acceptable. Like he thought she was cute or something.
Cute
. What an irritating word. She shot him a look, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. There it was again, that little male smirk that made her want to jump his body right there in the snow and ice, with danger surrounding them. “You are distracting me.”

His white teeth flashed. “I am simply paying close attention to the expert so that I might learn.”

“You are deliberately distracting me and I—” She broke off, her eyes widening.

The smile faded from Razvan’s face as he followed her gaze to an overhead tree limb. It looked fine to an untrained eye. The snow clung to the needles and weighed down the branches. He caught the flash of alarm in her mind.

“What is it?”

“Up there. High in the very top branches.” Her voice was very low, barely a thread of sound. “The snow is disturbed.”

It took a moment to see what she was talking about. In four small places, as if a bird had landed lightly on the thin branch, the snow had flaked off, revealing a smudge of bark.

“The bats?”

“No, they scratch lines in the snow but the bark does not show through. Hunters followed the bats.” A note of fear crept into her voice. “They do not know who dwells in this place and what they face. We weakened Xavier with our ritual. We turned his hatred back on himself. If he manages to find a hunter . . .” She trailed off.

His stomach lurched at the idea of Xavier getting his hands on Carpathian hunters. Not only would the hunter suffer, but Xavier would be extremely powerful with a Carpathian’s blood.

“Are you certain?”

In answer, Ivory shifted, streamed as vapor up to the treetop. She hovered in the air while she examined the branch and dropped back to earth beside him, careful not to disturb the snow. “Definitely Carpathian. There is no scent. Nothing else, just those two small telltale marks.”

Razvan rubbed his hand over his jaw. “We have to follow them all the way in, Ivory, if they followed the bats. You know we will have no choice. We will not be able to leave them to Xavier. If we are very lucky, they will be very strong, experienced hunters.”

“Xavier will not be alone,” Ivory added.

“No, he will not. And he has many abominations to guard him, not the least of which is the undead,” Razvan said.

She reached out to him, her fingers connecting with his. “We go then.”

“All the way,” Razvan agreed.

Ivory and Razvan moved with stealth, careful of disturbing even a single snowflake as they approached the outer rolling hills leading to the mountain where Xavier had begun to build his latest fortress. He needed the deep ice caves and network of caverns beneath the earth where he could conduct his evil experiments and wreak havoc on the Carpathian people. He had chosen an optimal location near the edge of the glacier, so he could use nature to carry his mutated extremophiles into the waterways leading throughout the mountainous range where the Carpathians dwelled.

If the hunters came this way, at least they left no other sign
, Ivory said, using their telepathic connection, unwilling to risk sound carrying in the night.

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