Duet in Blood (25 page)

“Mmm…” He pushed himself from the wall and stood in front of me, his bewitching

eyes holding mine with a look that made my knees weak and my cock hard. I wondered how many men and women over the years had seen that same look just before he drank from them. I shivered at the thought, and yet the thought of being afraid of him never entered my mind. I could never be afraid of him.

“Joseph,” I whispered, putting my hand to his cheek. “Do you know you could do

anything at all to me right now? How could anyone resist you when you look at them this way?”

Gently, he took my hand in his and kissed my palm. “You think that I am the beguiling one,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “If you only knew what the sight of you does to me.” His lips touched my neck, and I moved into his embrace.

“Drink from me,” I murmured, untying his robe and slipping it from his shoulders.

“No, my love.”

“Please.” I tightened my arms about him. “I don’t want to wake in the middle of the night and find you gone. Not tonight.” I arched my neck against his lips. “Drink, Joseph…”

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He let out a long sigh, his breath warm on my skin. His tongue lapped at my throat, and my whole body came alive with anticipation. I felt two needle-like pricks over my jugular, then as his fangs sank into my flesh and my blood flowed into his mouth, I heard his muffled groan of ecstasy. I clung to him as he sucked from me, the feel of his lips and tongue drawing my blood filling me with a raw, primitive need—a yearning for this to be all he would ever desire. That he would feed only from me and never from anyone else.

“I love you, Joseph,” I whispered hoarsely. The intensity of the moment increased as he crushed me to himself, and for the first time, I could feel the full power of his incredible strength that could so easily break every bone in my body. I knew he would never deliberately hurt me, so I didn’t struggle, just murmured of my love and longing for him.

“Micah, Micah…”

His lips nuzzled at my neck, closing the wound, then his mouth was on mine, thrilling me with a hard kiss. The taste of my blood on his tongue sent my senses reeling. His mouth moved down my body as he sank to his knees, taking my raging erection into his mouth, his tongue moving over my hard flesh so slowly and sensually I felt I might come apart at the seams. I stroked and caressed his face as he looked up at me, his silver grey eyes shining with lust.

“Joseph…Oh my God, Joseph…so good…”

He continued to suck slowly, his tongue rolling over my cock head, the tip probing at the slit, making my hips jerk and shudder. I grasped his hair in order to keep my balance as he licked his way along the length of my erection ‘til he reached my balls and took each one in his mouth, sucking at them gently at first then with a hunger that drove a long wrenching cry from my throat.

He released me long enough to coat his fingers with his saliva, then his hands parted my butt cheeks, and he slipped one finger then two inside me, finding the part of me that made my body buck and spasm under his touch and lose control just as he took me in his mouth again.

“I’m coming,” I gasped, and he pulled me in even deeper as my orgasm ripped through me, bringing a scream of ecstasy from deep inside me. His arms tightened around me as my body shook and shuddered, and my semen flooded his mouth. He held me there until he had taken every last drop from me, then as I collapsed against him, he drew me into his arms, DUET IN BLOOD

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taking my mouth with his again, his tongue swirling over mine, letting me taste myself in his kiss.

We stayed just like that, locked together, clinging to one another, our kiss going on and on, neither one of us willing to break the spell we were under. I was his, pure and simply put. No one could ever replace him in my life.

“Micah…” His lips touching my ear made me writhe with ecstasy. He sat back, gazing at me with serious eyes.

“Earlier, in the time when you gifted me your blood, your thoughts were sweet and caring, but my love, I cannot drink from you alone. Do you understand why?”

I nodded. “I guess I got kinda carried away there,” I said, feeling vaguely foolish. He touched my lips with his fingertips then traced the outline of my jaw. “I just want to give you all of myself,” I continued, taking his hand in mine. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Nor I for you. You have made my heart captive, and I am yours alone.”

I fell into his arms again, my eyes welling with tears of happiness. “Do we have to go out tonight?” I whispered. “There is so much more I want to tell you.”

He kissed me and smiled. “We are expected in an hour, and Ron will be disappointed if you’re not there after he has flown all the way from LA.”

“He’s here? That’s great. Oh well, I suppose…”

Joseph laughed and stood, pulling me to my feet. He held me close. “Shall I call a cab, or would you like to fly there in my arms?”

Wow…what a choice!

“I haven’t flown with you yet—apart from that wonderful time in the bathroom but maybe a cab over there. You can point out all the places of interest on the way…then maybe fly me home?”

The cab ride to Montmartre was, in a word, thrilling. The city was a place of wonders.

Joseph told the cab driver to take the long way round, and so I saw Paris by night—a truly wonderful sight—so many lights lining the boulevards, silhouetting the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower against a starlit sky. I gazed in wonder out of the taxi window, my nose DUET IN BLOOD

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pressed to the glass as Joseph acted his part of the best tour guide in France. Let’s face it…not too many men had been there longer than him.

When we arrived at Marcus’ villa, I was amazed at how close we had all become in such a short space of time. Marcus, Jean-Claude and Roger greeted me with the warmth normally reserved for best friends. I suppose what we had all been through together in the past few days made it seem as though we had known each other for much longer, and it made our bond much stronger. Ron was there, beaming a welcome through tired eyes.

“Jet lag,” he explained as he hugged me hello. “I came the old fashioned way.”

Like his home in Hollywood, Marcus’ villa in Paris was elegant yet comfortable.

“It was an old hotel until about one hundred years ago or so,” he explained to me as he led me into the living room.

“Then an enterprising young architect, and a great deal of my money converted it into what you see today.”

Uh huh. When would I ever get used to this casual mention of a hundred years or so?

“It’s beautiful,” I told him, accepting the glass of red wine I had requested. I’d given up on the beer—it just didn’t taste the same anymore.

“Happy Birthday, Micah.” Marcus smiled as I blinked in surprise.

“How did…? Oh, of course—why do I ask these things?”

They all crowded around to give me hugs. Never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined getting birthday hugs from a group of vampires.

Roger grinned at me. “Did I ever tell you how this big guy kidnapped me from my

birthday party?”

“Marcus told me…I think.”

“Yes, I did.” He chuckled, remembering. “The night you railed at me for not telling you the whole truth of Joseph’s disappearance.”

Roger’s eyes widened. “You yelled at him? Way to go, Micah.”

“Uh…well…I didn’t realise he was trying to help me. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be…” Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “You showed great courage that night,

Micah. Remember I also told you that I thought Joseph had chosen well. What has happened since then only confirms that opinion.”

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I was blushing like mad and glad to hide my face in Joseph’s chest when he put his arms around me.

A little later, Ron drew me over to a corner and looked at me with concern. “You okay with all of this?” he asked.

“Getting there,” I said. “I guess Jean-Claude told you what happened.”

He nodded. “I thought it was hairy enough at your bookstore, but what you’ve been through since…”

“What we’ve all been through,” I said. “Joseph almost died—that was the worst part of it. I just don’t know what I’d have done if he hadn’t pulled through. I know you’ll understand when I say that I’m just totally in love with him.”

“And he’s in love with you,” he said, hugging me. “I can see it every time he looks at you.” He chuckled. “Don’t look now, but his eyes are on you even as we speak.”

I grinned at him. “Isn’t it amazing, Ron? Sometimes I wonder just what the heck he sees in me. Micah Fitzgerald, nothing special bookseller…”

“Hey, I used to ask myself the same thing,” Ron agreed. “Just what was it Jean-Claude found so attractive in me? I’d look in the mirror and see just me staring back at me, yet I could tell he saw beyond my Average Joe looks. Something inside I guess…I’m still not sure though what it is.”

“It’s love.” We both turned, startled to find Roger smiling at us. “Sorry, my extra sensory hearing picked up on what you guys were talking about—and I know what you mean. I used to wonder what Marcus saw in me. I mean, look at him…” We all duly looked across the room to where Marcus, Joseph and Jean-Claude were standing in deep

conversation. “He could have had anyone he wanted.”

I sighed. “He’s gorgeous, but they all three are. And what’s amazing is they’re not full of attitude like most hot men are.”

“Tell me,” Ron said, chuckling. “Remember when we’d go out to the bars together and they were like, ‘Don’t even bother talking to me, troll’.”

“I don’t remember that,” I teased.

“Oh right…you were too busy fightin’ them all off.”

“Now, that’s what I remember,” I said, laughing my silly head off.

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Later, we all went for a stroll through Montmartre and to the Lapin Agile, a bar I’d never heard of but was probably one of the most famous nightspots in Paris.

“This is where the renowned artists and poets of the day met,” Joseph explained as we sat at a wooden table near the door. “Many a lively discourse and criticism was bandied about.”

“Did you come here then?” I asked, the question not sounding quite as bizarre to me as it may have once.

Joseph took my hand in his. “On occasion,” he said, his eyes on mine. “Are you still uncomfortable with that knowledge, Micah?”

I shook my head. “No…there’s a certain romantic quality about it. I can almost visualise you sitting here a hundred years ago, looking fantastic in a black frockcoat and top hat.”

He laughed and kissed my hand. “Not my style, really. I’ve always been a casual

dresser.”

“Jean-Claude says he remembers this place from when he was a kid,” Ron said. “Did you know he’s a really great artist, Micah?”

“Ron,” Jean-Claude murmured. “‘Really great’ is a matter of opinion.”

“Well, it’s my opinion anyway,” Ron said proudly.

The live music being played by a small group of musicians and singers was

atmospheric to say the least. I didn’t recognise any of the tunes, but they seemed to cast their own magical spell around me, helping me forget Joseph’s brush with death and the revelation that four of the men I now sat beside, drinking wine and passing a pleasant hour or so, were actually vampires, creatures of the night…the undead. Undead…hardly a term I’d use for men as strong and as vibrant—and as damned sexy—as these guys!

I gave my head a slight shake as if to clear my mind of the wonder of it all. I’d given up wondering when I would wake up and find all of this had been some incredible dream. In fact, every now and then I was seized with a kind of panic when I imagined that somehow I would wake up and find Joseph gone, and myself standing behind the counter at Barnett’s Bookstore.

Joseph, still holding my hand, gave me a gentle smile. “It really is very hard for you to comprehend all of this, isn’t it, my love?”

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“Sometimes…” I gazed into his beautiful silver-grey eyes. “But then I look at you, and I know it’s all I will ever want.”

“Oh boy…” Roger groaned. “Here we go again. Find a room, you guys.”

“Roger…” Marcus gave him a reproving look. “I seem to remember a time when you

said such sweet things to me.”

“Yeah, like this afternoon when you woke up and were—”

“Roger!”

“What?” Good-natured laughter rippled around the table as Roger acted the innocent.

He winked at me and grinned. “Hey, a toast to Micah and Joseph,” he said, raising his glass to us.

“Yes, indeed…” Marcus smiled at us. “Long life and happiness.”

“Well,” Roger mumbled. “ Long life, for sure.”

“Roger…”

“So,” I asked, as Marcus ordered us another bottle of wine, “can we be certain that Angelo is really out of the way this time around?”

Joseph nodded. “Angelo was no longer of any use to Darius and his followers.”

“And the fact he tried to defy them sealed his fate,” Marcus added. “The Dark Forces are merciless to those who betray them. Angelo is most certainly dead.”

“What a pity,” Roger sneered, rolling his eyes.

“The pity is that he chose to follow the evil ones,” Joseph said sadly. “Their power over him became so absolute that even if he had wished to turn from them, he could not.”

“Evil can have its allure for some,” Jean-Claude remarked. “In our lifetimes, we have all met those mortals and immortals who choose badly.”

“Yet many can resist even the most tempting of offers,” Marcus said.

“You are speaking of Bernard,” Joseph murmured. He smiled at me and took my hand.

“Bernard was the one who told Marcus of my captivity and helped rescue me from the wizard’s stronghold.”

“And later,” Marcus continued, “was given the opportunity to join Darius and his Dark Forces. However, despite the fact that he would have been elevated to a high rank within the circle of the Grand Council that governs the Dark Forces, he refused. He later told me that Darius had threatened to kill him should their paths ever cross again.”