Deathless Love (15 page)

Not Dom. He didn't expect to be served, though something about him made everyone—vampire and mortal alike—want to please him. And he always showed his gratitude, which just made them want to give him more.

“No problem.” Fox went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, looking through his extensive tea collection. He may be British born, but living in Tucson, he'd developed a knowledge of the uses of many herbal teas and had even developed a fondness for the taste. He picked out two herbals that were good for calming the belly and called out, “Chamomile or mint?”

Dom threw up again and groaned. “You pick.”

He picked mint and tossed a tea bag into a mug and dripped a glob of honey on top of it. When the kettle whistled he poured the steaming water on top of the tea bag and honey glob and stirred.

Dom came into the kitchen and threw himself into a chair. Fox placed the steaming mug in front of him. “Thank you,” Dom said, giving him a faint smile.

He sat down across from Dom. “So. She's coming for you, right?”

“Is that what you see, Fox?”

He shrugged. “I don't see things like you. But I just feel certain that it's true.”

Dom's shoulders sagged and he stared into his tea.

He took a deep breath. He already knew this wasn't going to go over easily. “Dom, I think we need to find a way to help them.”

Dom shook his head. “What can we do? We're in Tucson. Until things take form here, we do nothing.”

“But Dom. Vampires are scared. They don't understand what's going on or how to protect themselves. Couldn't you come up with some kind of strategy that they could employ? Either to protect themselves or to turn the changed ones back?”

“Your faith in my abilities is way too high, Fox. I don't have a clue how to protect against this, nor how to reverse it.” He shook his head. “And it's not our problem.”

“Jesus, Dom! We have to take care of our own or there will be no good vampires left! Don't you remember that Niemoller poem that used to run in Dear Abby about no one speaking up when the Nazis came for each different group so at the end there was no one to speak up for them?”

Dom looked at him like he was crazy.

“Well, anyway, we need to band together now! To stop that bitch Roxanna—to save the vampires who have been twice turned! We have to do something,” he implored.

Dom buried his head in his hands. “Fox…,” he said heavily.

* * *

He dreamed about Roxanna. He was having sex with her standing up, her long slender legs wrapped around his waist, her back pressed against the wall of the kitchen at No Return—obviously it was the redux of the sex he'd had with Kate there.

He was ready to climax and he struck her vein. She struck his at the same time, drawing deeply. When he realized she wasn't going to stop, he drew her blood with renewed vigor, not about to stop until she did. Her fingernails were digging deeply into his arms and he could feel her writhing like a snake against him. There came the realization that she was not ever going to stop drinking and that made him wonder if she'd be his creature, then or if he would be hers? Did the oldest blood win? She had the combined blood of at least ten vamps older than him. He felt a burning all over, a feeling he'd entirely forgotten from his first turning. He forced himself awake then with a grunt, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

He got up and peed and splashed his face with cold water, then headed upstairs for a cup of coffee. Kate would be gone already, she was giving piano lessons all day. He opened the door at the top of the stairs and was instantly scorched with a blinding light. It seared his eyes and smote his flesh, causing him to yell out loud. He slammed the door closed again, feeling the heat of burnt skin, unable to see anything. His eyes were burning, his heart was pounding.

Roxanna.

He stumbled blindly downstairs and into the bathroom to splash cold water on his eyes. It soothed them a bit. He closed the toilet lid and sat on it, calming his breath. It could be an accident. He didn't think Kate would make that mistake, but it was possible. He still could only see a blinding light with his visual field, so he felt his way into the bedroom to locate his phone. The trouble was, he couldn't see the display. In this day and age of cell phones and stored numbers, the only number he knew by heart was Stella's. He ran his fingers over the phone. Unfortunately, it was a touch screen, which meant there were no buttons he could sense with his fingertips. He'd have to try to go by memory. He turned it on and started touching around the bottom of the screen. It took a long time, but eventually he stumbled on the voice dial feature.

“Please speak the name or number you wish to call.”

Thank god.
“Kate,” he said urgently.

She didn't answer. He left a terse message. “Kate. There's sunlight in the living room. I need to know if you left something open. Call me right away. We're trapped in our rooms until it's fixed. But listen carefully—DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT come here if you didn't leave something open yourself. Call me.”

He hung up and suddenly felt a stab of fear.
Stella and Fox.
They could be in imminent danger. He needed to warn them before they woke up and walked out of their rooms. He tried again to locate the voice dialer.
Damn.
He should have called Stella first to warn her. She could have called Kate for him. Now he was wasting precious time while she or Fox might wake up and get burnt to a crisp anytime. He finally stumbled on the voice dialer function again and practically shouted Stella's name, his hands trembling.

“
Dom?” She said groggily.

“
Don't leave your room. There's sunlight in the living room. I just got burnt.”

“
How bad?”

“
Indirect light. First and second degree. Biggest problem is that I can't see. Call Fox to warn him then call me back.”

Thirty seconds later he heard Stella gasp and Fox curse. They had materialized into his room. Why hadn't he thought of that?

“Y
ou okay?” Fox's voice was deepened with sleep, but clearly worried.

“
Yeah. Blinded. Temporarily, I hope.” He heard Stella walk to the bathroom and run the faucet. When she returned, she pressed a cold washcloth gently over his eyes.

“
What's going on?” Fox asked.

“
I don't know yet. I left a message with Kate but she's teaching all day so her phone's off.”

Stella blew out her breath. “We could call Marta. Then erase it from her after she shuts the blinds or door or whatever it is.”

Marta was their house cleaner who came in twice a week to clean and do laundry for the three of them. They paid her well to come in the evenings, rather than the daytime, and he'd planted the hypnotic suggestion that she never touch the blinds. “No,” he said sharply. “First of all, I don't think she can fix the blinds when I've got her programmed not to touch them. Second of all, I don't want her in danger if it was not Kate who opened them.”

“
Okay, let's be rational here,” Fox said. Roxanna wants your blood. You're of no use to her burnt to a crisp.”

“
We don't know that for sure,” Stella said.

“Fox, you keep trying Kate. I'm having a helluva time using my phone when I can't see. Keep me posted. I'm going to take a cool shower.”

“Okay, I'll keep you posted,” Fox said. “If you need anything, just materialize to my room. Are you able to transport that way?”

“I don't know. I was so shaken up I didn't even think to try.”

His two friends dematerialized and he stood up. His body was still trembling from the shock of the burns. It was mostly his face and arms that had been affected, but his eyes were causing him real pain. He could feel tears running out of the outer and inner edges and since vampires cry blood, that was going to be messy.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that Fox must be right. It had been Kate. He'd jumped to the conclusion it was Roxanna because of his conversation the night before with Fox and the dream he had woken to.

But
Jesus
. How could she? He'd thought he'd made it perfectly clear how dangerous it was to let light in the house. Well, if Kate had wondered what a real punishment spanking was like, she was going to find out. He felt his way to the closet and picked out a wide, flexible leather belt. He tossed it on the bed. Then he went to the bathroom and stood under a cool shower, trying to calm the burns on his skin. He air dried, because the thought of rubbing a towel over his blistered skin was too painful. He wet the washcloth again with cool water and lay down on the bed naked with the washcloth over his eyes. Nothing to do now but wait. His belly rumbled.

It was three hours before Fox called him. “It was Kate. She's on her way.”

He grunted in response and hung up. By the time he got dressed, he heard Kate calling his name with a note of panic in her voice. “Dom? Dom, I'm here!” He heard the back door bang open and then shut. He was waiting at the top of the stairs when she knocked there. “Dom? It's safe!”

He opened the door and he felt her jump back in surprise.

“Oh Dom,” she gasped. He was sure that the sight of him was not pretty. He was too irritated to speak to her yet. He walked past her to the kitchen and started feeling his way to the refrigerator. “You can't see,” she spoke in an anguished whisper. “Please, Dom—let me. You're hungry?”

He took a step back from the fridge to allow her in.

“What sounds good? A sandwich?”

“Yeah. Make three. Fox and Stella will be hungry too.”

“Your—your eyes,” she whispered.

“It's temporary. Like snow blindness,” he said tersely. He sure hoped it was temporary, anyway. “I need to go let Stella and Fox know that it's safe.”

He left her to it and felt his way down the corridor to the stair door to Stella's wing. He knocked on the door and she opened it right away. Like him, she'd been waiting and ready for the word that it was safe to come out.

“All clear. Will you tell Fox? And maybe run interference for me with him while Kate and I
discuss
this?”

“You bet.”

He didn't have to explain anything to Stella. She was a no-questions-asked type anyway, but he also knew that she understood the dynamic he had going with Kate.

Back in the kitchen Kate said in a tiny voice, “Here you go, Dom.” She put a hand very lightly on his arm to guide him to a chair where the sandwich was waiting for him. “What else can I do?”

“Are you finished with your lessons for the day?”

“Yes. I canceled the last one when I finally got the message. I'm so sorry, my phone was—

“Go wait for me in the bedroom,” he interrupted.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Kate's knees were jelly. She tripped down the stairs and into Dom's bedroom with her heart pounding in her throat.
Oh God
. There was a belt on the bed. She was sure it was purposeful. This was it.

Her first real punishment spanking. She didn't count the time he spanked her to tears over snapping at him, because he hadn't really been angry then and he had done it to relieve her stress. This time he was angry—she could tell. She paced around the room, tears choking her. Her face burned with the pressure of them. She sat on the bed and started to cry.

The door opened and Dom filled the doorway, holding a wooden spoon. She stood up and ran to him, clutching his arm so he could find her in space. “Dom, I'm so sorry. I was in a hurry and I just totally forgot that I'd opened the shutters.” Her tears started up fresh again.

To her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She sobbed into his chest. When she had calmed down a bit, he drew her away and looked in her direction, although his blind eyes missed focusing on her eyes. They were a horrible sight—bloody mucous was oozing out of the inner and outer corners of his eyes and the whites were completely bloodshot. His skin was as red as a lobster, like a redhead who'd spent all day at the beach without sunscreen. Some places had weeping blisters.

“Kate, there's no excuse for your irresponsibility. I thought I made it clear how serious it was to leave the shutters closed.”

“You did,” she choked. “You absolutely did. I know and I feel so bad,” her voice broke again and she drew in several hiccupping breaths.

Dom just waited.

“Are you going to spank me?” she asked in a whisper.

“What do you think I should do?” he asked quietly.

Ah.
This was the consent piece, again. He wasn't going to hurt her without her permission. Of course she didn't want to be spanked. Especially not with his belt. But she'd caused him to be badly hurt and she felt absolutely horrible about it. And spanking was the solution on the table. She leaned her forehead against his chest and nodded. She couldn't bring herself to say the words—to actually ask him to spank her. He understood.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded.

He went to the bed, reaching his legs in front of him tentatively, until one of them hit the edge of it. He sat down, turning his face in her direction.

Knowing he was blind somehow made stripping off her clothes a little easier, but not that much. There was something about baring herself to be punished that made her feel so very small and vulnerable.

“Can I just pee first?” she asked in voice that sounded too squeaky.

He nodded without comment. He still looked so stern and remote. Her thighs trembled as she peed and her breath was coming in quick little gasps. She returned and stood in front of him, her belly doing flip flops. He still held the wooden spoon in one hand. He felt for her hips and then pushed her across his knee, with her head resting on the bed.

There was no waiting in anticipation this time. It wasn't a game. He started immediately spanking hard with the spoon, taking her breath away with the thud of it. She gasped and squirmed. He threw his free leg over to scissor hers so that she was firmly pinned across his knee. It was worse than any spanking he'd given her, and this was just the warm up. As the burn increased, she struggled harder to escape the punishing smacks of the wooden spoon. It seemed he was applying it all over her already burning bottom—smarting every inch until she imagined it was as red as his burnt skin.